#she shows up for their events but never receives the same support in turn

[hollogramhallucination]

paparazzi shot of aishwarya rai at the yrf showing of ponniyin selvan: II (2023) dir. mani ratnam

[fayes-fics]

Second Son

Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x fem!reader

Summary: The second son is, for once, the first choice...

Warnings: none really... mild angst, family dynamics, love at first sight.

Word Count: 2.9k

Authors Note: Request fill for anon here, about Benedict being the second choice for everything.... until his love turns up. Thanks for this request; I hope this is angsty enough for you anon. Im not sure about it tbh. Sorry that it's taken more than three months to get to it on my WIP list. Unbetaed. Enjoy <3

Benedict Bridgerton was born into privilege and can have few complaints. Except perhaps that he is always second. The spare. The just-in-case option. Being a familial insurance policy lends one more freedom than the burden of being the titled first son, perhaps, but it also feels like your whole existence, in some respects, can seem like a contingency plan.

____

His stomach swoops with excitement as the arrow pierces the target dead on the bullseye. And on his first ever archery lesson, just after his twelfth birthday.

He turns around to see if anyone is there to witness his triumph, but it goes unmarked. All his young siblings gathered around Anthony, patting him on the back for his achievements in doing the same moments before. Being a good shot is an essential skill for the next Viscount indeed. The fact that he has been receiving instruction for months already and this is Benedict’s first lesson hurts a little.

But he doesn't bother to bring attention to his arguably more impressive feat. It seems pointless now. Wordlessly he shrugs and walks towards the target, plucking out his arrow and starting again. Perhaps next time, they will notice.

____

“Is that the new Viscount Bridgerton?” Benedict hears a young girl murmur as he sweeps into the first societal event of the season, the spring following his father's death. 

“Oh no, my dear, sadly not; I believe that is one of the brothers,” her mother replies, acting as if he has no sense of hearing, even trying to ignore it as he is, surveying the crowd.

“Such a shame,” the young girl huffs, “he is so very handsome.”

“Yes, dear, but sadly not titled. We can do better,” her mother chides, moving them along out of earshot.

He will never get over how cutthroat the Ton can be, a part of his tender seventeen-year-old heart sinking. Not that he had a potential interest in that girl, more the principle that he will somehow be rendered as an also-ran, at best a consolation prize, for the rest of his life.

What is most galling, perhaps, is that, when his mother needs their presence the most on a night like tonight, the new VIscount is nowhere to be seen. Has not even bothered to show his face, running off to some spurious gambling den and brothel, spending the night indulging himself rather than facing society. 

So here Benedict is, stepping up to play the dutiful son that his elder brother should be. Being the support their mother so desperately needs at her first event as a widow, her arm looped heavily through his, her whole bodyweight seeming to use him as her literal pillar of support. As he escorts her around the room, he is filled with admiration at her brave face. He can see the overwhelming sadness in her eyes every time the word dowager is invoked, and his heart cracks a little at the loneliness he can feel emanating from his mother’s very soul. 

“Tis a shame the Viscount did not deign the first event of the season worthy of his patronage,” she states pointedly as she sips champagne.

“I am sure he has very good reasons for his absence,” Benedict replies soothingly, covering for his errant brother, attempting to shield their mother from the truth of his philandering ways. Benedict knows it is Anthony’s way of dealing with the responsibility of the title of Viscount being thrust upon him so young. But sometimes, just sometimes, Benedict wishes he could escape his grief in such a manner, Anthony taking his turn attending a stuffy ball and playing guardian to a grieving woman. Their burdens may be different, but the wish to escape them is often not, Benedict realises.

____

She catches his eye at a garden party at Aubrey Hall. She is a pretty young lady, maybe eighteen to his twenty-three, with bright eyes and a sweet, happy face. She makes his palms slightly sweaty. He watches her from a distance, uncertain how to approach or what to say, feeling a little tongue-tied, even. 

Just then, Anthony materialises at his shoulder.

“Who is that pretty young thing?” Anthony asks, tracing Benedict’s line of sight.

“Miss Bradstreet,” he replies, watching as she turns to face the sun, closing her eyes, basking in its warmth. The light captures her cheekbones perfectly, and he itches to have his sketchbook and capture her likeness. He would very much like to get to know her better.

“Let's go provide a warm welcome,” Anthony smirks, clapping a hand on Benedict’s shoulder and practically dragging him across the lawn.

Benedict reluctantly follows, a flutter of excitement as her eyes land upon them as they approach. 

“Miss Bradstreet,” Anthony swaggers. “Viscount Bridgerton at your service; I am so very pleased to be your host today,” he bows.

Benedict's stomach plunges as he watches her practically melt into the lawn right there, virtually swooning at Anthony’s feet.

“Oh, and this is my brother, Benedict,” Anthony adds, almost as an afterthought. 

She flicks her head to the side briefly to politely acknowledge Benedict before returning to Anthony. All of her undivided adoring attention on him as he regales the story of his latest hunting triumphs upon her insistence. Benedict heaves a sigh and watches as yet another young lady he likes chooses his brother over him. He is almost used to it now, but it doesn't stop the sting every time.

____

Your world grinds to a halt as you see him. He is descending the stairs with what you assume is the rest of his family. He is very much in the middle of a tight circle, walking behind what appears to be his mother and perhaps older brother. Quite the most beautiful man you have ever seen, your heart pounding in your ears, your throat suddenly dry despite the lemonade in your hand. You assume they must be the hosts, seeing as they are the very last to enter the ballroom here at Bridgerton House, and there is no announcement of their name.

“Who is that?” you whisper, leaning towards your elder sister. She has been out among society for a year and knows the Ton better than you.

“That is the Bridgerton family, of course,” she replies. “Illustrious in the extreme. Our hosts for this evening. The Viscount there is the most eligible bachelor of every season… and every season, he has resisted a match. So I wouldn't bother if I were you,” she sniffs.

“Which is the Viscount?” you check, your eyes unable to leave the beautiful man with a cravat tied in the most unconventional fashion.

“The one with his arm looped with their mother, the dowager Viscountess, naturally,” your sister rolls her eyes as if patently obvious.

“And what of the others?” you inquire keenly, realising the man you admire cannot be the one your sister is referring to. “Do you know their names?”

“I do not,” she admits, “such things are not really important when one is looking for a titled husband,” she points out airily. 

You nod, knowing the responsibility your sister must carry as firstborn to find a suitable match that can provide for your widowed mother and, indeed, perhaps yourself and your younger sister should neither of you be able to find a husband. You don’t envy her position one little bit. 

You are, however, desperate to get closer to the most beautiful man you have ever seen. And so you spend your evening working towards them, in as polite of a fashion as you can, your stomach in knots of excitement to know him.

“Dowager Viscountess Bridgerton, it is an honour and a pleasure to meet you,” you curtsy, heart pounding as he now stands a few feet away, unable to look at him so close by.

“Hello, my dear and you are?” she asks politely.

“Miss y/n y/l/n, it is my very first season; I am so honoured to be here,” you explain. “I must provide the apologies of my mother, Mrs y/l/n, who could not attend tonight due to a cold, but she is so very thankful for the invitation.”

“Oh, of course,” the viscountess smiles. “I am so sorry to hear of her illness; please pass on my best regards… Anthony!” she turns to her side to grab the attention of a man. The viscount’s head whips around from where he is in discussion with another. “Come meet Miss y/l/n,” she needles pointedly. “Miss y/l/n, this is the Viscount Anthony Brdgerton, and he is so pleased not only to make your acquaintance but also for your presence here tonight,” she welcomes on his behalf, and you do not miss the subtle nudge in the ribs she gives him.

Then his regard is drawn to you. He is handsome certainly, and you appreciate his polite but absent-minded greeting. His attentions are obviously elsewhere, but then you cannot fault him as yours are the same. Your gaze strays over his shoulder to the man who first captures your attention. And your breath is stolen by how his hazy blue eyes stare intently at you.

____

Benedict is twenty-six years old when he is struck by lightning. Not literally. But that is the sensation that runs through his body when he first lays eyes on you—politely introducing yourself to his mother and thanking her for your invitation to this ball. 

He thought he knew what attraction was until this point. He thought he knew the depths to which one could fall in love in an instant. He was an utter fool. He looks at you, and at once, everything is so quiet and loud all at once. He is desperate to know you in a way he has never felt. To grab your hand, take you somewhere, and ask you a million questions to get to know your soul. He also wants to kiss you so much that his lips tingle. And inside, his lungs want to scream as his mother does the natural thing and introduces the beautiful, polite young lady to her most eligible son… Anthony. 

Then his heart jolts as your eyes stray from Anthony and meets his, your pupils dilating in a way that makes his lungs too small to inhale air. It is the first and only time a young woman has had Anthony’s full attention and has looked away from it. And to him, no less. The tidal flood of chemicals in his system makes it feel like he is vibrating in his very shoes.

____

You try your best to be polite and look at Anthony as he speaks, but your sight is drawn to this other man like a moth to a flame. From appearance, the second son, as you are the second daughter. A flare of understanding and sympathy in your chest as to how that is. You want to grab his hand and run away with him.

“My lord,” you find your voice and snap your eyes back to the Viscount, “would you do me the honour of introducing me to the rest of your wonderful family?” your ask, almost timid.

He looks temporarily taken aback, as if mystified why anyone in the Ton would care about the status of anyone beyond his mother and himself. You smile at him expectantly and do not miss, from the corner of your eye, how the beautiful man’s face is awash with surprise at your request.

“Oh, most certainly,” Anthony seems to snap out of his temporary stupor and turns to introduce his siblings in attendance. A tall, baby-faced young man stands to attention as Anthony moves from left to right. “This is Colin; he has just returned from his travels in Greece,” you nod and smile politely, knowing nothing of the subject. “And this is my sister, Eloise; it is her first season, and she is not in the slightest bit happy about that,” he adds dryly, and you can't help but giggle and feel a kinship with the spirited young lady who returns your wry smile. “My eldest sister, the Duchess of Hastings, who is visiting us,”

You curtsy and bow your head. “It is an honour, your Grace,” you add, and she smiles sweetly at you, her arm looped in her mother's.

“Obviously, you have met my mother,” he continues, and suddenly he is the last in the line. You feel your palms clench, sweaty in anticipation of learning his name “... and this is my brother, Benedict; he hopes to be an artist.”

You are finally brave enough to meet his eyes again. He is so achingly beautiful that the rest of his family, indeed the whole ballroom, melt away from your view—he is all you can see.

“Oh, I adore art,” you stutter, mesmerised, offering your hand to him, the first and only person in the family you do so to. Unseen by you, your gaze only on one man, Anthony’s mouth drops open in surprise.

Nothing can prepare you for when Benedict’s gloved hand gently touches yours, him bowing to kiss the back of your hand. You catch a woody citrus scent that makes your mouth water as he does so. And then you feel the warmth of his lips through your glove, and you are utterly undone.

“Miss y/l/n,” he rumbles quietly, the sound making your insides melt even more; it's deep and resonant and makes every inch of your body tingle.

“Please call me y/n,” you murmur, moving closer, knowing how scandalous that might be, but seemingly unable to stop yourself. He has a hypnotic hold over you that you don't want to fight.

“Only if you shall call me Benedict,” he breathes, and it takes Anthony clearing his throat to make you spring apart, suddenly remembering where you are.

____

His lips touch the silk of your glove, and he is gone. 

Already planning a future, his mind supplying images of you at his cottage out in the country, the lady of the house. Tending to the herb garden, reading happily curled up in front of the fire in the drawing room, fearlessly plucking a bow as you stand in front of joint archery targets gently teasing him for losing to a girl, and finally, the image that truly knocks the wind out of him, you naked under him, desperately moaning his name as you move together, entwined in ecstasy.

He hears your sharp inhale, and his heart skips at the idea you feel it too. That you are the first woman ever that sees him and not Anthony. Really sees him. Not as the second son. Not as a consolation prize. 

And when your body seems to sway towards him, he is already mentally asking his mother for a betrothal ring from her grandmother, which she said she is keeping just for him.

____

“Benedict,” his name feels wonderful in your mouth, like a gift from the heavens. “Please, may we take a turn around the gardens?” you implore, the boldest you have ever been in your whole life. 

“It would be my very greatest pleasure,” he responds.

And you know with absolute certainty you have met your husband, the father of your children, your very future. 

____

“It is not as if this is my show….” he sighs.

“You should not do that, darling,” you say affectionately, ruffling his hair as you move to fix his cravat; it definitely needs to be more jaunty, in your opinion.

“Do what?” he breathes, his wedding ring catching the light as he places his hands gently over yours and stills your motions.

“Think of yourself as second,” you argue, running your hand over his cheek. “This gallery opening may feature others' work too, but you are the star of the exhibit,” you reassure, tilting his forehead down so it rests upon yours.

There it is again. That look that always floors you. Even now, a year later. Like you are the most wondrous creature, and he can scarcely believe you are his.

“Never forget, you will always be first to me,” you utter fiercely, watching his eyes soften with devotion. “And not just me….” you guide his sizeable warm hand onto the swell of your belly, “to us. We love you so much, Benedict,” your tone is ardent, wanting him to believe he deserves this recognition, that he should believe in himself the way that you do.

“I love you, too,” he responds quietly, reverentially. “So very much. Both of you are my whole world,” his voice choked with emotion, and you throw your arms around him and squeeze hard, wanting to telegraph just how much he is the very centre of your universe.

An hour later, you clutch your hands over your chest as you watch him being brought onto the raised stage and introduced to the crowd as they applaud him and his work rapturously, awaiting to hear him talk of his art. As he does so, you stroke your belly unseen under your cloak, beaming with pride for your wonderful husband.

____

He sees your face in the crowd, and as ever, it calms him, especially at this landmark moment. So as he finishes the speech that he has rehearsed for days now, he decides to do something perhaps unconventional but something he seems unable to resist.

“Lastly, before I allow you back to your champagne,” he jests, finally at ease with the attention and recognition. “I want to thank my life’s inspiration, the very reason I stand before you today. My wonderful wife. Thank you, my love, for being the light of my life; for always making this second son your first choice. You will always, always be my first choice. I love you.” 

Benedict taglist: @makaylan @foreverlonginguniverse @iboopedyournose @colettebronte @aintnuthinbutahounddog @severewobblerlightdragon @margofiore @writergirl-2001 @heeyyyou @enichole445 @enchantedbytomandhenry @ambitionspassionscoffee @chaoticcalzoneranchsports @nikaprincessofkattegat @baebee35 @crowleysqueenofhell @bridgertontess @fiction-is-life @lilacbeesworld @angels17324 @broooookiecrisp @queen-of-the-misfit-toys @eleanor-bradstreet @divaanya @musicismyoxygen84 @benedictspaintbrush @miindfucked @sorryallonsy @lilithseve @cayt0123 @hottytoddyhistory @truly-dionysus @fictionalmenloversblog @zinzysstuff @malpalgalz @panhoeofmanyfandoms @kinokomoonshine @causeimissu @delehosies @mlovesbridgerton @m-rae23 @last-sheep

[hannieehaee]

HELLFIRE

18+ / mdi

summary: whenever he was at a crossroads, seokmin always knew he could turn to god. however, with the recent thoughts you've been putting in his head, he's not sure god will show him the answer this time around.

content: virgin!seokmin, catholic!seokmin, religious repression, old fashioned and exaggerated catholic beliefs, very brief mention of homophobia, very conservative beliefs, a lowkey cult-ish view of catolicism oops, seokmin is veryyy socially awkward and not used to socialization outside of religion, his parents are super overbearing, lots of family tensions, seokmin has an estranged brother (jeonghan), conflicting emotions about god, sexual repression, reader is an atheist, afab reader, smut, dry humping, oral (m and f receiving), handjob, penetrative sex, loss of virginity, etc.

wc: 13k

a/n: she's here!! i didnt write an outline for this and i kinda only focused on seokmin's pov for this which makes reader kinda look like she's trying to corrupt him for no reason lol but i promise its still fluffy and cute <3

masterlist | kofi/patreon

support me through a one time tip<3

Normalcy for Seokmin had always equated to the church. It was what he'd known since childhood and what he grew up surrounded by up until his current age.

His upbringing had been good by all accounts. Although he had an estranged brother who he didn't get to see too often, he had a father and a mother who cherished him like no one else. His financial means were also to be envied, as he was raised in a wealthy part of town and had always been surrounded by an upper class community – a heavily religious community.

This community was one that Seokmin always respected and cherished. Being brought up going from one private catholic school onto the next as he aged, Seokmin never knew anything other than the constant supervision of nuns and religious figures who would constantly guide him in the right direction (at least according to the bible). While others may think this lifestyle to be restricting, Seokmin knew it to be the proper path for a young man to follow. He never complained about the bi-weekly mass he had to attend with his parents, nor about the separation by gender that was mandated by his school. Seokmin knew all his prayers by heart and was sure of what his role in society must be. In short, Seokmin knew and did all things proper and by the letter.

As a young man (at the ripe age of 20), Seokmin finally found himself in a society that was not of catholic background. After transferring from a two year college in town (one centered around catholic studies, of course), Seokmin was now readying himself to move away from home in order to finalize his education in a fully co-ed institution for the following two years.

It wasn't like Seokmin had never interacted with people outside of the church (or with women in general). He was simply a bit on the shier side when it came to non-religious endeavors and usually only stuck by his religious community, which often abided by old-fashioned rules found in the bible. For instance, Seokmin had been so dedicated to the church that he would usually spend his free time volunteering at the church's food drive or performing with his church group at various family-friendly events around town. This meant that Seokmin's inner circle always consisted of people who had an almost identical ideology as that of his own.

Seokmin felt bad at admitting this (which was why he never vocalized these thoughts), but he could sometimes get a bit tired of the consistency of his life. It was a constant repetition of events surrounded by the same exact people time and time again. He never had any opportunity to be challenged or observe outside opinions, specially not with the constant supervision his community gave youth like him (something about wanting him to follow the right path unlike his older brother). Seokmin knew and trusted his beliefs, so he felt a bit infantilized whenever his own family would become overbearing while ensuring Seokmin didn't go off the rails like his brother had – his brother, who was still a quite a sore subject for him.

And now, Seokmin felt excitement. Knowing he would finally be able to explore the outside world and experience the last couple of years of his college life not under the watchful eye of his church. However, as a strong believer himself, Seokmin had still ensured he would have time to attend mass every week and maybe join a religious club on campus. Although he sometimes felt scrutinized by his family and community, Seokmin had never once faked his belief in God. I mean, it was all he had known thus far and all he felt he could really count on no matter what.

When the day to move into his dorms finally arrived, Seokmin had a difficult time hiding his excitement. His community had thrown him a goodbye party, allowing him to be the main focus of the night as one by one, every adult figure in his life bid their farewells accompanied by thinly veiled warnings to not fall into the bad habits sometimes found in non-religious communities. Seokmin was pure-minded at heart, so he took these warnings with a warm and heartfelt gratitude, knowing that despite his desire to expand his horizons, it was important he kept his beliefs safe.

Thanks to his parents, Seokmin had the fortune of being able to rent a room away from the dorms. His parents had insisted, claiming that dorm life could get quite rowdy and that a roommate who had not been pre-approved by them may give him a bad influence and lead him towards an unholy path. Seokmin, already slightly nervous about heading into the world on his own, agreed in order to give himself a safe space of solitude in case he needed it.

The apartment was pretty close to the dorms themselves, allowing Seokmin a calm commute in his bike every day for his classes. Thus far, he had been in the city for a week, still having a few days before school actually began. He had attended his church club already, meeting all the other members and scouting out who he may be able to befriend in the near future. Everyone seemed pretty much like the preppy rich kids he had grown up with all throughout his years of catholic school. There was a bit more of variety among the people in the club than back home, with the club allowing for co-ed inclusion of members (something which was quite common in church groups, though Seokmin had grown too accustomed by his non co-ed upbringing). They also seemed to come from different backgrounds, but ultimately Seokmin could tell that just like him, they were very likely brought up in a very coddled and comfortable way. This was how your presence in the club first stood out to him.

While everyone seemed very put together and happy to be there, you caught Seokmin's attention right away. Your visible discomfort was the first thing Seokmin noticed. Though you looked as nice and welcoming as anyone else, Seokmin could see that you seemed like a closed book. Your eyes did not light up the same as the rest of the members, nor did you actively participate in the icebreaker activities set up by the club. Seokmin also caught onto the fact that the other members already knew each other (likely from previous years at the college), while they treated you like a black sheep. And of course, Seokmin couldn't help but notice your appearance, which made it difficult for him to look away from you.

Of course, Seokmin had had female friends in the past. It's not like his church separated the pews by gender or anything like that. Seokmin was just slightly reserved. With his constant attendance at institutions that insisted upon gender separation at all times and very overbearing parents, Seokmin never really had the chance to form any type of relationship with any girl throughout his youth. He had teamed up with other female volunteers while working at charities and had even been in charge of showing new girls in the community around the church's premises. However, these were very isolated instances.

As of the past twenty years, Seokmin was yet to ever really think about women liberally. He was always taught that time for those things would come eventually, whatever that meant. It was something that had been repeated to him by both his parents, neighbors, the reverend, and even at some point by his brother (though his brother had said it in a sarcastic tone, which confused Seokmin even further).

And now here he was, sitting quietly across the room from you as he watched you in silence, barely paying attention to whichever new activity the group leaders were discussing for the first charity event they'd hold during the upcoming semester.

You were pretty. Seokmin could tell that much. His mind did not process anything other than your features for almost the entirety of the meeting, being far too occupied by analyzing every inch of your person as he unknowingly held his breath.

His eyes on you did not seem to catch your attention at any point, but they did catch the attention of a fellow member of the group who was sitting near him.

"You know her?", asked the nameless member.

"Oh, uh, what? No, I was just– "

"She's not really a member here, you know. Just kind of an honorary one, I guess."

"What do you mean?", he finally took his eyes off you due to his sudden interest in the conversation.

"Her parents pay for her tuition as long as she can prove she's an active member of the local catholic community. Apparently she just pretends for them, but her parents still somehow bought her way into the club", the guy lowered his voice to a whisper, "I heard she's an atheist, man. We just have to kinda ignore she's there."

Though Seokmin knew that his parents' immediate reaction to such gossip would be shock at the blatant disrespect you were showing towards your parents who clearly just wanted you to not stray away from the path of God, Seokmin was more annoyed at the guy who found it so easy to talk about you behind your back completely unprompted.

While Seokmin couldn't understand why someone would claim themselves atheist when it was so clear to him how life had been created, he still saw it wrong to judge someone for their beliefs. It was oftentimes that churchgoers back home would exhibit malicious intentions such as what he'd just witnessed from his fellow group member. You were clearly not bothering anyone and even looked pretty aware of the alienation the members were putting you through, so Seokmin couldn't help but feel sad for you.

He shyly shrugged off the guy who had made him privy to your information and went back to staring at you as you sat back and seemingly waited for the bi-weekly meeting to end.

Despite catching his curiosity that day, Seokmin did not end up having any contact with you, being way too shy to even hold eye contact with you as the meeting ended.

Days passed and Seokmin finally started school. He had to admit, he felt completely out of his league. Thanks to his parents, he was never properly socialized as a child. While most members of the church would have active social lives outside of their ministry (even going to public schools and participating in non-catholic leisure activities), Seokmin had always been confined into a box that only allowed him to interact with other heavily religious people. This was never a problem to Seokmin, who was happy to dedicate his life to the lord. Except now it was proving troublesome.

Since professors had a tendency to get liberal during discussions at times, he felt scandalized by many of the subjects spoken about during class. He also felt awkward interacting with other people his age, who would share very different beliefs from his own. Seokmin had even attempted to dabble into social media at some point now that he was not under his parent's' watchful eye, but even that had him feeling unseemly.

Overall, Seokmin felt embarrassed at how little life experience he had due to having dedicated his entire life thus far to serving both God and his parents. He was beginning to understand why his brother Jeonghan had left home as soon as he turned of age. He had always judged him for it, but his judgment was beginning to fade away.

Now that he no longer had his parents nor community around (much less his brother), the only comfort he could turn to was that of his nightly prayers.

His struggles continued for the following weeks, with Seokmin becoming a bit of an outcast in most social situations. He was quite outgoing in the church, but this was a completely different environment in which he felt ridiculous every time he tried to interact with people who had had far more social advantages and freedom than he did growing up.

Keeping a low profile had been easy to achieve for Seokmin. He decided after a few very awkward interactions that he would simply become an outcast and stick to himself, only ever interacting with his church club the few times a week they'd meet (though unfortunately never having the courage to interact with you). This seemed to work up until the second week of school, in which Seokmin's women's studies teacher informed the class they'd be doing a partner project for the entirety of the semester.

Seokmin had taken the class against his parents' wishes, feeding them with a white lie that it was part of the necessary curriculum in order to graduate. He argued to himself that this was a subject he would never be exposed to in his community, knowing his community to be slightly ... old-fashioned. This part of his life always made him embarrassed, – not really sharing many of the beliefs his community had tried to drill into him – so he wanted to atone for his lack of knowledge now that he was in a completely independent environment.

Teaming up with someone back home was always easy, as he was quite popular both in church and at school. Here, however, he had already given himself the reputation of awkward and overly dedicated to God – he had stated his devotion to God during the individual introductions they'd done on week 1, leading to low chuckles and uncomfortable looks from his classmates – which was something that the general population did not seem to like. He was avoided by his fellow women's studies classmates since then.

Sure, Seokmin did share a few old-fashioned catholic beliefs such as the necessity devotion to God and the importance of one's purity being kept until marriage, but he did not agree with any other bigoted beliefs shared by many catholic communities. He had genuinely taken this class with the hope to learn and expand his horizons, but most people in it had already decided that he must be a close-minded weirdo.

By some struck of luck, as Seokmin sat back, completely defeated while he watched other people stand up and enthusiastically find a partner, he suddenly heard someone clear their throat to call his attention.

It was you.

He hadn't realized you were taking this class too due to the high mass of students (about 100, give or take). And now he found himself looking up at you from his seat as you gave him what seemed to him like a confident grin.

"Hi, Seokmin," you sat next to him without so much as asking.

Your sitting position was troublesome for Seokmin, as he noticed the way in which your short skirt rid up as you crossed your legs and leaned towards him. You were wearing more revealing clothing today than any other time in which he'd seen you at the bi-weekly meetings. Your attire wasn't provocative by any means, it was just that you were always more covered up at the meetings. Seokmin assumed it might've been due to some scrutiny you may have faced by the members. This made him frown internally.

"Oh ... hi. Y-you know my name?", he sat up from his slouched position and faced his body towards yours, though he was too shy to meet your eyes for too long.

"Of course I do, Seokmin. We're in a church group together, remember?"

You carried a very confident and laid back air to you despite having only spoken to him for the first time just now. You also seemed much livelier than back at the confined room where his fellow church group members gathered. This was likely due to the lack of scrutiny you usually received completely unwarranted while at his church group's meetings.

"Ah, yeah, just, uh, didn't realize you noticed me."

"C'mon, Seokmin. You're the only person in there who doesn't look at me like I killed their dog. Of course I'd notice you."

He wasn't sure how to respond, but that at least answered the question as to whether or not you were aware of the gossip a few of the other members had let him in on.

"I'm sure that's not true ... I– "

"It's fine, really. Anyways, I just wanted to ask you if you'd like to partner up?", you suggested, completely unfazed by the mention of your judgmental group mates.

"O-oh. You want to? I mean, yeah! Of course," he couldn't help but feel relieved at the prospect of not having to meet with the professor after class to let her know he'd need her assistance finding a partner.

"Great. Here, put your number in my phone and I'll let you know when I can stop by your place so we can brainstorm," you handed him your phone as if nothing; as if you weren't suggesting going over alone to his apartment unsupervised.

He hesitated but gave you his number, flinching a bit when your hands accidentally touched.

"Thanks. I was thinking this Friday. Is that okay with you?"

"Oh, y-yeah. Sure," he mustered a toothy smile for you.

You giggled under your breath, "Okay, Seokmin. Looking forward to seeing you," there was a permanent smile in your eyes as you spoke to him, making him a bit giddy.

He bid his goodbyes back and finally let out a puff of air when you parted ways.

The rest of the class period was completely wasted to Seokmin. His mind was too giddy and preoccupied with thoughts of seeing you again, this time in a more intimate setting. The thought made him anxious, though he also felt some weird tingling he wasn't fully sure how to describe.

Did this mean you had noticed him too? Had he stood out to you in this huge hall? The thought made him shudder before regaining control of himself and starting to anxiously doodle on his notebook.

He snuck a glance over at the direction in which you left, now localizing your seat. You were talking to a few friends, which confused Seokmin greatly. This meant that you already had friends in this class, so why would you go out of your way to team up with him? Was his curiosity about you maybe mutual? This question would surely be all Seokmin thought about for the next two days until the two of you finally met up to discuss your project.

Seokmin saw you again the following day at second bi-weekly meeting of the week.

Once more, you sat back and said nothing, only bothering to sign your name on the attendance board at the start of the meeting and taking your usual seat away from everyone else.

Your attire was different from what you had been wearing in your women's studies class just a few hours ago. You had donned a long skirt and a long sleeve too instead of the tiny shorts he had seen you wearing previously. This change in attire made no difference to Seokmin, however, since he already knew what your bare legs looked like and could not prevent himself in picturing them as he stared.

Your presence had yet again proved to be incredibly distracting to Seokmin, who had already been thinking about you ever since you had suggested to meet at his place.

There was no one he could ask for advice about what to wear or what to do. His friends back home would frown at the thought of Seokmin even considering an unchaperoned gathering with a girl – especially an self-declared atheist who was simply pretending to be catholic for her parents.

His parents were also not a good option. Seokmin could just picture the gasp in surprise at the revelation that his women's studies class (one which his parents had called 'useless' and 'made up') had enticed him into bringing a girl home while no one else was around. He cringed at the mere thought of them attempting to intercept the situation by barging in and lecturing both you and him on proper relations between man and woman.

Seokmin knew he was overthinking all of this, but he had an internal conflict. On one side, he knew that this was just a regular meeting between classmates to discuss a project, but this was his first time alone with a girl (one he had a bit of a crush on, at that!) On the other side, Seokmin couldn't help but feel like he was breaking his parents' trust. They had explicitly forbid him from ever engaging in any type of relationship with any girl unless she was pre-approved by them (something which they'd already tried and failed at doing with Jeonghan). And on a secret third side of things, Seokmin felt like now that he was alone and untrained on what life was like in the real world, it'd be easy for him to fall susceptible to desire and betray God's word. He hadn't had any unbecoming feelings thus far, but his crush on you was enough for this fear to be instilled in him.

For now, Seokmin had the rest of his school day to worry about, so he pushed these thoughts aside and tried to draw his eyes away from your figure as he attempted to pay attention to whichever biblical lesson the group's assigned leader read from.

This was yet another biblical lesson Seokmin had heard time and time again. Despite his strong devotion to God, Seokmin always felt a little belittled at the constant repetition of teachings he had been hearing since childhood. Were his personal beliefs and devotion to God not enough? Why did he need other people to give him their own ideas of religion when he himself was an expert at all of God's teachings by now?

He related to your current situation in this aspect. Even if he felt comfortable in his religious stance, he had to join this club in order to prove to his parents that he was an active participant in the local religious community. He had to constantly deal with his parents' paranoia that he may stray away from God in the way his brother had. His constant assurance that his relationship with God was too strong for breaking was not enough for them; they simply couldn't help showing up in every corner of his life even as far away as he currently was.

Seokmin sighed at these thoughts and drew them away as much as he could. His mind was already preoccupied with thoughts of you coming over tomorrow evening.

That night he went home and prayed his anxieties away, turning to the only being he could possibly trust with his grievances.

"Hi", you smiled brightly at Seokmin, hands holding onto the handles of your backpack as you stood in front of his open apartment door.

"H-hey."

He stepped aside to let you in, wincing internally as he noticed the short length of the white dress you were wearing. He could tell by now that your personal style was more revealing than what you chose to wear at religious gatherings. He couldn't blame you, but he wished you'd cover up more for his poor sanity.

"Do you wanna do it here or did you wanna do it in your bedroom?", you broke him out of his train of thought.

"H-huh ? D-do what? Oh, oh! Yeah. I mean, here is fine. Unless you want to do it in my bedroom? I mean, do the work in my bed– yeah!"

He physically winced at his stupid thoughts; the dumb paranoia that this was more than a platonic study date had gotten to him despite having prayed to calm his nerves just minutes before your arrival.

Luckily for him, all you did was giggle under your breath and take a seat on his couch before taking off your backpack and settling your stuff on his table.

Dumbly, he stood there just watching you, catching sight of your dress riding up yet again in the same way it had two days ago in class.

You patted the space on the couch next to you, telling him to come sit, that you 'didn't bite.' The best response he could muster to that was an awkward chuckle and a follow-up on your instruction.

He made sure to leave ample space between the two of you, even making sure to avoid eye contact as he also pulled out a few notes of his own.

Without saying anything, you scoot closer to him, even turning to face him further, though still facing forward for the most part. Your knees were now bumping into his and your scent was near enough to invade his senses.

"Is this okay? Am I too close?", you asked when you noticed him stiffen.

"N-no. I'm sorry. I ... I'm being dumb. You're fine."

"Then how come you won't look this way?", you leaned even further towards him, making sure his eyes couldn't miss yours from his position.

He braved it and turned to face you, though his eyes were trained on your chin rather than your eyes. He now realized there was less distance between you than he thought.

"I'm sorry, I ..."

You interrupted him but grabbing his chin and gesturing him to look into your eyes.

"Do I make you nervous, Seokmin? You can look at me. You know that, right? It's not a sin to look into a girl's eyes", though your words sounded like mockery, your tone was as soft as your eyes.

He gulped and finally allowed himself to look at you. You were far too close now. Things had progressed too quickly, and in ways that Seokmin had thought were ridiculous to assume when he'd been going over the possibilities of your visit today. Yet here he was, eyes nervously staring into yours, trying their hardest to not lower to your lips or cleavage.

"You're exactly as I thought you would be," you started, hand moving from his chin to softly run your thumb on his cheek, "You're not like them. You're sweet ... But you're scared, aren't you?"

He didn't know where this was going, but your tone was soft and your words sweet so he nodded silently.

"It's okay to want things, Seokmin. Doesn't make you a bad person. You wanna please Him, though, don't you? Don't wanna disappoint Him?"

You were seeing right through him. It made him feel both understood but also like he was just as superficial as he thought the judgmental members of your church group to be.

"I just ..."

"It's okay, Seokmin. He'd want you to be happy. I ... I know it's meaningless hearing it from me, but He wouldn't want you to face this turmoil. You can give in. It's okay, I promise", your last words were said in the form of a whisper against his lips.

You were so close he could breathe you in, but his lips were unfortunately still not touching your own. This frustrated Seokmin, though it also relieved him. He felt way too heated to even engage in something as innocent as a kiss.

He knew that his first kiss would only lead to more. He had been so pent up all this years, shaming any desire away from his mind at every opportunity. He had never even pleasured himself, knowing it was frowned upon by God – at least that's the thought that was hammered into him since way too young an age.

He remembered the various conversations in which any thought of a relationship were verbally beaten out of him. He remembered the reaction of his parents when he had let it slip in kindergarten (his last year in a non-catholic institution) that he had a crush on the girl who'd been assigned as his new desk mate. He recalled the way his mom talked down on the four-year old girl, claiming her parents were not catholic and that she would be a bad influence on him. He remembered when his first phone was confiscated from him at fifteen when his father caught him watching the latest Twice music video at the time, claiming such things would lead him to impure thoughts. He remembered the last day he saw his brother two years ago right after a screaming match with his parents who had insulted and demeaned Jeonghan's partner, claiming he would burn in hell for his decisions against the lord's word.

With all these thoughts plaguing his mind, Seokmin let himself become numb to any spiritual consequences that would come from letting himself go. He found himself internally damning anything that wasn't your lips or the feeling of your hand on his cheek and sighed against you when you finally closed the gap.

Seokmin couldn't help himself in whining into your mouth when he felt your tongue tease his mouth open and begin intertwining with his own.

His arms were stiff against his sides and his lips far too shy and sloppy. It worried him that maybe he was not pleasing you in the way you did him, specially when you pulled away and spoke to him.

Your eyes were still on his lips and the distance between you remained small as you spoke up, "Follow my lead, okay Minnie? Let me show you .."

You kissed him again, this time slower and more sensual. It made his eyes roll back.

He took the hint and began moving his tongue in the same way yours did. He also shyly ran his hands up and down your back upon your wordless insistence that his arms wrap around your form. Following your instructions felt natural, though what you did next caught him completely off guard.

Your hands had snuck away from his cheek, with one now pulling at his hair (and making his eyes roll even further back in the process) and your other hand sneaking into his pants, touching him softly through his boxers.

He jumped back and accidentally disconnected your lips, gasping at the sudden intrusion.

"I ... I cant, I don't ..."

"It's okay if you don't want to, Minnie. I should've asked," you drew back a little, making Seokmin jump once again, but this time to make sure you stayed close.

"It's not that, I just ... I don't– "

"It's okay to want me. It's okay if you want this. We can stop if you want to, but ... you can want me ... You won't get in trouble, I promise."

Your lips were still close enough for him to reach, making him hesitantly grace them with his own. Thankfully you took the hint, giving him a wanton kiss that had him feeling dizzy.

He thoughtlessly kissed you back, whining any time you did something he particularly liked. You didn't attempt touching under his pants again, now simply sticking to running your hands up and down his clothed chest while his shyly caressed your back.

The kiss got heated pretty quickly, making him extremely light headed. He didn't know where this was going nor how he would feel afterwards, but he couldn't find it in himself to care.

His thoughts were interrupted when your lips left his own and trailed from his cheek to his ear, licking and nibbling at his lobe before whispering in it.

"Is this okay?"

"Y– yes. Please ..."

Your kisses against his neck had him throwing his head back. If he was mindless before, he was fully without a care now. Even if his community ever found out what he was up to during his first month away from home, he didn't care in this moment. His guilt may come later, but for now all he could do was enjoy your kiss.

"Can I play with you, Minnie?", you pulled away and gave him a sweet peck before asking.

"You ... It's wrong, I– He'll ..."

"He won't know, Minnie. It's okay. It'll feel so good."

You hesitantly snuck your hand under his trousers once more, slowly enough to allow him to deny you should he wish to. His sinful desire for you prevented him from moving, so you continued until your hand was wrapped around him.

"A– ah ... Y– you ... I've never ..." he sighed.

"Never touched yourself like this before?"

"'s not allowed, I ... I shouldn't ..."

"It's okay. I'm just taking care of you. Nothing wrong with taking care of your needs, right Minnie?"

He felt mocked by how ridiculous it sounded coming out of your mouth. But he still felt guilt. Guilt at every moan that left his mouth as you slowly rubbed up and down his length. Guilt at the way he wanted your lips back on his. Guilt at how difficult it was for him to drag his gaze away from your soft mounds peaking from your cleavage.

One thing was betraying everything his parents had always warned him about, but betraying God's word made him feel like he'd burn up until the day he faced his punishment.

Except he couldn't bring you to stop. He couldn't prevent himself in mindlessly nodding at you and asking you to please not stop.

Suddenly you grabbed his arm, directing it towards your chest. You must've noticed his heavy eyes eyeing your cleavage and realized what thoughts had been going through his perverted mind.

"Wanna touch them? It's okay, just ... just squeeze, yeah? That's it, fuck ... You're so pretty, Minnie," you sighed oh so prettily as soon as he followed your direction and experimentally squeezed at your clothed breasts.

He moaned and moaned at both your touch on him and his on yours. But he began to panic when he felt himself heating up more and more, feeling like he would soon reach a crescendo that he would never be able to fall back from.

"It's okay, Minnie. Let go. Let go for me, pretty. I'll take care of you," you must've sensed his panic and shut him up with your tongue in his mouth, swallowing his whines of pleasure as his end took over him.

He had never felt such pleasure before. Every touch you gave him was better than the last, making him wonder what other sinful acts with you would end up feeling like. He shuddered at the thought and went back to the blissful state his high was giving him.

You kept whispering soft praises to him, telling him that it was okay and that he could let go. He hadn't realized that he was crying until one of your hands softly wiped the tears from his cheeks and kissed softly at them. He felt more loved by your care than he ever had before. The seed of doubt was then planted into his head; why would such a loving an intimate act ever be seen as anything but holy?

He began to feel corrupted, but also conflicted on his thoughts on the matter. One thing he knew for sure, however; this would not be enough – he would seek you again and again.

After even more caring words from you, the two of you parted ways with no work done. You kissed him goodbye and told him you'd see him again soon. He responded shyly but you accepted it with yet another kiss and finally left his apartment.

That night Seokmin attempted to pray his conflicting thoughts away once more, but even then, Seokmin left mention of you out of his prayers, fearing that acknowledging your sudden and rapid effect on him would be the downfall of his purity and of the already strained relationship with his parents.

The following Monday, Seokmin saw you again at the first of the two bi-weekly meetings of your church group. As per usual, you sat alone on a corner while the rest of the club engaged in conversation with one another.

Seokmin chose to sit back once again, deciding to watch you from afar rather than participate in the conversation like he usually did, except this time you began to occasionally look back at him with a sweet smile. Your eye contact would cause him to look down with a blush, but after enough instances of catching your eye, he decided to shyly smile back at you. This proved to be fruitful, as you suddenly stood up and quietly walked your way over to him. Due to the conversation being led by the other group members, your new seat next to Seokmin went unnoticed, causing Seokmin's nerves to not flare up too much.

It was wordless but soft, the way in which you shared a seat with him and offered him yet another sweet smile. He felt giddy at having your attention in such a way. He was aware that he barely knew you, but having you become part of his life (in any way you may have wanted) made him feel a sense of pride he had never felt before.

The two of you spent the rest of the meeting giving each other shy smiles and playing tick tack toe on his notebook. When it was time to part ways, you finally spoke up and told Seokmin you needed to head back first, as your next class was far away. Seokmin wanted to offer to walk you, but was interrupted by another member of the group who called his attention – the same guy who had previously warned him about you. Due to the standoffish manner in which other group members behaved around you, you left awkwardly while Seokmin frowned and stayed back.

Slightly frustrated at not being able to bid you a proper goodbye (or walk with you as he had wished to offer), Seokmin's demeanor to his group mate was less polite than usual.

"What, are you two friends?", asked the member in a somewhat accusatory tone.

"I ... Yeah, maybe. Why?"

"I wouldn't advise that, Seokmin. She's a bad influence. I mean, you haven't been participating as much as when you first got here. It starts when you least expect it. Just don't want you to fall down a bad path."

"What bad path?"

"She was part of our faith at some point. Until she got corrupted, and now she just infiltrates our spaces like a nuance. She'll corrupt you in the same way if you're not careful. Take the advice, brother. Just don't get too close," and with that, he gave Seokmin a condescending nod and made his way out.

Since leaving home, Seokmin had forgotten how many churchgoers would cross boundaries without much care. How they would use the excuse of being 'sons and daughters' of God to be judgmental.

He saw no issue with your behavior. Maybe you had kissed Seokmin and maybe you had ... done other stuff to him. But you weren't a bad person for that. It wasn't like Seokmin stopped you (or even wanted to stop you). He wasn't sure why he felt so defensive over his groupmate's advice, but he couldn't help but be peeved off by this interaction for the rest of the day.

His mood stayed so sour towards his groupmate's harsh judgment of you that he had forgotten to do his nightly prayer before going to sleep, even forgetting to send a message with his blessings to his parents like he usually did.

The next morning he awoke to some overbearing messages from his parents inquiring why he had not messaged them the night prior. Seokmin was surprised at himself when his first reaction to their myriad of messages was to roll his eyes and lock his phone back up. He loved his parents, but his separation from them had quickly showed him how controlling they tended to be. But Seokmin realized it wasn't only them; it was the entirety of the puritanical and judgmental community he had grown up with.

Despite having only hung out with you once, you were already a breath of fresh air to Seokmin. You didn't judge him over his shy and socially awkward demeanor. He had a hunch that since you two belonged to the same church group and had likely had similar upbringings, you probably understood why he was the way that he was. Unlike everyone else he had met at this school so far (other than the other members of the church group), you weren't mean to him nor did you ever ignore him. You had seeked him out! The thought still gave him butterflies.

~

The two of you continued to casually hang out like this over the next week or so, though it usually tended to be only while on meetings with your church group or during your women's studies class.

Contrasting with your previous meeting, any time the two of you would hang out now mostly consisted of working on your project or getting to know each other. He had come to find out that you were here on a scholarship and that, as the nosy guy in your church group had stated, you were only attending the church group to appease your parents' belief that you should maintain some type of connection to God regardless of your beliefs in catholicism. You didn't get too much into it, but you also informed Seokmin that despite what the group members believed, you did not have a bad relationship with your parents due to your contrasting beliefs. This made Seokmin envious, pondering about how his parents would react should he ever find himself changing his faith.

Through the few times you saw each other in class, Seokmin grew to like you more and more. He knew now that he felt something for you that he had never before. He had a crush, for arguably one of the first times in his life. There were also more sinister feelings dwelling in his mind, however. Sometimes he would think back to that day alone in his apartment, when you took his innocence (though only partially). He wanted more, but he felt like he was simultaneously sinning and disrespecting you by even thinking about it. He still felt conflicted about last time, thinking himself a sinner and a bad son for disobeying both God and his parents, but he couldn't help himself in wanting more.

A few days later, Seokmin saw you yet again at your shared women's studies class.

Seokmin was completely unable to pay any attention to class today. Unfortunately for his sanity, you had recently begun to sit next to him every time the two of you shared this class. Seokmin had grown accustomed to sitting alone at the very back row of the auditorium in which your women's class was given. The first day he had sat next to a few people, but after mentioning his devotion to God during his personal introduction, he found people not only avoiding his eye and snickering at him but even going out of their way to sit away from him. You had been the sole exception, deciding to sit with him a few days after your meeting at his apartment, now smiling at him as you sat side by side.

Today, you have him more trouble than usual. You sent him flirtatious smiles during the entirety of class, even occasionally gracing your hand slowly on his leg. This had him shuddering and completely distracted, but he couldn't bring himself to stop you. You gave him a thrill he had never experienced before. While his mind before meeting you had always been dedicated to thinking of God and his duties as a member of the church, his mind was now fully occupied by you. As silly as it sounded, he had never felt the thrill of a crush before (specially not one that was reciprocated like this), and now he didn't know how to act.

"Hey, Minnie," you whispered to him as your professor lectured in the background.

"Y- yeah?"

"Wanna meet at my apartment after class today to study?", you now whispered right against his ear, finger drawing figures on his thigh.

"Oh, I– Of course," he coughed out.

You only giggled quietly in response and went back to paying attention to class (though still occasionally doodling cute hearts in Seokmin's notebook).

After class, the two of you walked together. Only a few minutes into your walk through campus, you slipped your hand into his. He was surprised by this, but allowed himself to squeeze yours back. His heart soared when you started swinging your intertwined hands back and forth.

Was this what romance felt like? The thought alone made Seokmin feel giddier than he had ever before. He relished in the simple act of holding your hand and felt pride any time you'd stop for a few seconds to say hi to some friends, never once letting go of his hand and even giving a quick introduction of his name.

You were quite literally heaven on Earth to Seokmin. He couldn't wait to get to know you even further.

~

Walking to your place took about half an hour, but it was worth it the moment the two of you stepped in and you immediately pushed Seokmin against the wall, stealing a kiss from him.

"Minnie ... Been thinking about you since last time ..." you kissed at his neck, pulling his collared neckline out of the way.

"Me too ..."

"Yeah? What'd you think about?", you paused to pull back and look at him, "You don't regret it, do you? Was I too much?", your tone was genuine, more genuine than he had ever heard anyone direct themselves to him.

"N-no, of course not. I've, uh, I wanted more ... Just .. was too shy to ask."

"Aw, Minnie. You don't have to be shy with me. We can do anything you're comfortable with," you shared a sweet smile with him before pulling him back in for a heated kiss.

This was only Seokmin's second instance in kissing you, – last time having been only over a week back – but he now found it easier to match your rhythm and play with your tongue in ways that had you humming against his lips. He wanted to give you pleasure in the way you'd given it to him. So far he felt like he'd been doing well with the kissing. You somehow walked him over to your bedroom without disconnecting your lips, making his heart speed up at the thought of what was coming up next.

He yelped against your lips when you pushed and straddled him on the bed, hands too shy to know where to touch. Fortunately, you didn't leave him hanging for long and positioned them on your waist for him.

"Minnie ... I don't wanna pressure you. So we're gonna do something similar to last time, yeah?"

He was of course in agreement, but ...

"I ... I wanna make you feel good too ... Please?", he almost winced at how pathetic he sounded. He also had absolutely no idea of how to please you. He had never even considered watching porn (being told he'd go to hell for even entertaining such thoughts), nor had he ever received any type of sexual education. As lame as it sounded, Seokmin was completely clueless as to what women did for pleasure. He had been clueless as to how male pleasure worked up until you had shown him.

"Do you want me to teach you how, Minnie?", you asked while unbuttoning his shirt.

"Please ..."

You kissed him again in response, wordlessly taking off both his and your clothes. When you finished, Seokmin couldn't help but feel exposed. However, the thought of his own nudity (sans his boxers) left his mind as soon as he realized you were also down to just your underwear.

With his mouth agape and his arms not knowing where to go, Seokmin simply sat under you and sweat bullets as he attempted not to stare anywhere below your chin.

Noticing his nervous demeanor, you giggled at him and put your hand on his cheek while the other remained on his shoulder.

"Oh, Minnie ... So pretty. Do you even know how pretty you are?", you ran your hands up and down his chest in a sweet manner, "And I'm the only one who gets to see it, hmm? All mine?",

"Y-your .... yes ... for you."

"Fuck. I'm gonna have so much fun with you. Gonna teach you everything."

Despite your words' effect on him, his main focus right now was your almost bare body and its proximity to him. He could feel the heat of your skin against his. His mind kept thinking about what you must look like beneath your underwear, with his eyes heavy and glued to your covered breasts.

"Want me to take off my bra, Minnie? You just have to ask. I'll go as far as you want to go," you pecked his lips yet again, still running your hands up and down his chest.

"Y-yeah. Wanna see you. Is that ... is that okay? Just wanna make you feel as- as good as you did me ..."

Your breath hitched, "Oh, angel ... So sweet and selfless. I'll show you. Fuck, I'll show you everything."

You separated yourself from him a bit in order to give him a full view. Then, in slow and sensual movements, you threw off your bra, proceeding to caress your own breasts as you gave Seokmin a sultry look.

Fuck.

What type of teachings were preventing him from seeing you in your barest of forms? You were nothing lesser than art itself. You were so warm and beautiful; so soft and perfect – both inside and out. Seokmin couldn't believe he had ever considered such things to be scandalous (which admittedly, he still kind of believed). At the same time, he was kind of glad he had never engaged in such acts before, because it allowed for you to be the first (and hopefully last) woman he would ever see in such an intimate setting.

Those thoughts aside, Seokmin was short-circuiting. He was so distracted he didn't even notice you removing your panties and settling back on his lap until you verbally called his attention again.

"Minnie? Wanna feel them? Hmm?", your hands were already on his, leading them directly to your soft mounds.

"F-fuck," he couldn't help but groan upon feeling the weight of them on his hands, "you're so beautiful ... Y-you're, oh fuck-"

Words could not express the unimaginable beauty he was witnessing, nor the arousal he felt at having you so bare and willing in front of him. He didn't know what to do or how he was supposed to react. He felt kind of bad at his wordless state, but he couldn't help being speechless at feeling such pleasure from merely seeing you.

"Like this, Minnie. Just- fuck ... yeah, like that ..." you instructed for his thumbs to play with your nipples, even making him pinch at them. Your sighs and the way you arched your back were enough for Seokmin to want to leave everything behind and dedicate his life to your pleasure.

"K- kiss them? Please, Minnie ..."

He took your order immediately, leaning down to kiss around your nipples, glasses fogging from the close proximity to your skin.

Your sighs intensified and your hand moved to angle his head so that his lips would land on your nipple. Taking the hint, he enveloped your pert nipple in between his lips and sucked, licking and nibbling at it as he saw fit. Eventually he lost himself a bit, allowing his hands to fondle your breasts desperately as he whined into your breast. Your whines for more made him lose his mind, leading to his mind fogging up even more.

This progressed for a while until you finally moved his head away from your tits and stole a wet kiss from his lips.

"You're so good, Minnie. So obedient ... Such a good boy for me," you breathed against his lips, wiping his foggy glasses before slipping them back on.

He physically keened at your praise, not at all used to being praised for such filthy behavior but still extremely pleased he was making you feel good.

"Now ... now I'm gonna show you how to make me feel good, yeah? Still wanna try that, angel?"

He nodded too enthusiastically, glasses coming out of place due to his enthusiasm.

"Okay, baby," you giggled, "Need you to kneel on the floor for me, okay? Right between my legs ..."

Oh. You wanted him to-

He had never explored his sexual desires in any way, so he was fully unaware where exactly this was going, but the thought of looking up at you while he made you feel good between your legs sounded like the holiest act known to human.

He followed your direction, groaning when he saw the hidden space between your legs glisten.

"Oh, God ..."

"Shh, don't use the lord's name in vain, Minnie", you were just teasing, but somehow the reminder of his lord made Seokmin feel a small pang of guilt at the thought of the sin he had been actively committing with you thus far. He decided to push it aside and continue on his path. Nothing mattered to him more right now than your utmost pleasure.

"Lick it?" you used your fingers to open up your folds, letting out even more honey for Seokmin to gawk at.

Wordlessly he got closer and closer, up until his tongue was able to flick at the length of your folds. He let out a breath he didn't know he was holding at the taste of your essence, becoming instantly obsessed with its warmth. What he was even more obsessed with, however, was the whine you let out at such a simple touch.

Was it possible for him – an inexperienced and sheltered boy – to make someone like you – a gorgeous and clearly knowledgeable girl – feel this good? He needed to test the theory so he kept licking to his heart's contentment, following the directions your hand gave him as you guided his head against you.

He licked shyly at first, only sucking every now and then as he did his best to act accordingly to the sounds you were making. It didn't help that his mind was plagued by your taste, smell, and the warmth between your legs – not to mention your mewls of pleasure.

"My clit, baby ... Your tongue, angle it here- oh ... fuck, right there, Minnie ..." you angled him so that he could flick his tongue at a tiny little pearl found between your legs.

With all the newfound knowledge he had on how to deliver your pleasure, Seokmin did the best he could to repeat the movements you seemed to really enjoy (at least based on how prettily you'd cry his name after). Despite his mind being completely clouded by the entirety of your person, Seokmin continued to moan and cry against your cunt as he silently begged for more of your cunt against his face.

"M-minnie! Oh ... Fuck. Such a g-good boy ... All mine, shit ... Your tongue, oh ... just like that, angel ... Y-your nose, Minnie, please! Your nose, just- oh! Fuck", you cried for him, at some point taking full control and just grinding against his face as his nose and tongue poked into your most sensitive spots.

Seokmin felt incredibly proud at your mindless state, knowing it was him who had achieved that. Nothing mattered more in that moment than your pleasure; pleasure which only Seokmin could give you.

"Gonna cum for you, angel. Lick it all for me? Be a good boy and take it for me, yeah? Shit!", you practically vibrated against him as your high took over you.

Seokmin kept his face between your legs as you came, doing his best to lick at every single drop of essence and moaning at the taste of you. He allowed you to use his face as you saw fit, reveling in the knowledge that he had given you such other-worldly pleasure.

He didn't know it was possible for him to feel such pleasure from just watching you, but now he understood. If anyone asked, this was what heaven was supposed to look like – a beautiful girl losing herself to Seokmin's touch as he himself tried not to lose his own mind.

Throughout the entirety of your orgasm, Seokmin couldn't control his hips as they ground against the bed with a complete lack of rhythm, simply humping animalistically at you taking over every single one of his senses.

After a few moments of aftershock, you suddenly pulled Seokmin up and attacked him with a filthy kiss; filthier than any you'd shared before.

Your kiss alone had Seokmin struggling to keep himself from cumming in his boxers. You had been testing his self-control from the moment you teased him in class earlier today and he just wasn't sure how much longer he could take until pleasure took over him once again.

"Want me to try it on you, Minnie?", you asked once you pulled away from the kiss.

"That? O-on me?"

"Mhmm. My mouth on you? Is that okay?", you pecked his lips again, seemingly unable to disconnect from him for too long (which Seokmin thoroughly related to).

"Yes", he deadpanned, still out of breath from being suffocated by your thighs and then your lips just moments ago.

You wasted no time in removing his boxers. Seokmin felt slightly shy at this, having never let anyone ever see him nude before. Even last time he had been with you, you had pleasured him through his clothes and not seen past his shirtless state thus far.

But you praised him as soon as he was fully nude, kissing up and down his thighs as you told him how beautiful he was, how pretty and deserving of praise you believed him to be. His whole body heat up at your soft words, with goosebumps forming at your soft kisses that led up closer and closer to where he was aching the most.

He gasped when you finally took a hold of his member, bringing your face close enough to give the weeping tip a kiss.

"O-oh ..." he threw his head back at the sweet yet filthy gesture.

You giggled under your breath and began kitten licking at his tip, sucking lightly every so often. He felt like he had finally arrived to heaven. All those stories about what awaited his good behavior while on earth must've been lies, because he found the greatest reward of all in the form of your mouth wrapped around him.

Getting braver by the second, you put almost the entirety of him in your mouth, doing things with your tongue and lips that his poor brain couldn't even process. He whined and cried at your movements, not able to understand how easily you could bring him to tears.

As he quickly neared his high, his mind turned into mush, not allowing him to register what was going on with his body. All he knew was that his cries got louder by the second, his cheeks now damp with the tears that wouldn't stop falling from his eyes. His hips were uncontrollable, having to be restrained by your hands as he chased for his high with the utmost desperation.

"P-please! I need ... Fuck, please ..." he begged for nothing in particular as his high completely took over.

He felt dirty and disrespectful as he did it, but he came inside your mouth, wincing at the way your moans vibrated while he was still in your mouth. He couldn't help himself; his thoughts had been completely overtaken by the pleasure.

His cries had not stopped as of yet, even rendering him emotional as the high of his orgasm wore down. Now was the moment of regret, knowing he had broken his unspoken oath of celibacy yet again.

This was something all people in his community swore to. It was rarely ever spoken about, but Seokmin knew that he was supposed to save himself for marriage – in every sense. Despite already having quite strong feelings towards you and the things you did to him, Seokmin still felt like he had somehow disrespected you by engaging in such acts with you. But more than anything, he felt like he had disappointed God.

So he cried. He cried into his hands despite how embarrassed he felt at doing such thing in front of you, specially after having shared such intimacy.

"Oh, Minnie ..." you coo'd at him, getting up to hold his large frame in your arms.

You allowed him to exhaust his cries as he quietly asked for forgiveness. He didn't have to explain himself, as you understood. You made your understanding evident by reassuring him that he had done nothing wrong, and that he was still such a good man.

He believed your words and thanked you, eventually calming down enough to stop crying and speak coherently.

"Do you ... do you think He'd be disappointed in me?", he knew it was a stupid question to ask considering your lack of religion. The two of you had never thoroughly discussed religion with one another, but he knew you at least understood where he was coming from.

You pouted at him, cooing at him as you responded, "Of course not, Minnie. He loves you. You're such a good boy; treat everyone so kindly even when they don't deserve it. Treat me so kindly ... No matter what anyone ever tells you, what we just did is no sin", you explained.

"B- but the bible-"

"Shhh. Your faith is your own. No one can take that away from you, Minnie. Even if I don't share those beliefs anymore, I know an amazing person when I see one. You've done nothing wrong, okay?", you caressed his cheek and pecked his lips to drive your point home.

He nodded as he tried not to tear up at your kindness.

Him even questioning his actions' consequences on his faith would've provided him with a scolding from his parents or a look in disapproval from his reverend. But in turn you gave him acceptance and love. There was no way in his mind to believe that being with you – feeling good with you – was anything other than the holiest act he could engage in.

"Do you regret it?", you interrupted his thoughts.

"N-no, of course not ... It's just ..."

"I'd never want to make you do something you don't wanna do. I ... I know we haven't known each other for long, but I like you, Seokmin. I don't want you to think I'm just trying to ... corrupt you."

"You're not!," in a change of pace, he grabbed onto your hands and looked directly into your eyes as he spoke, "Everything you've taught me, I've wanted it too. I ... I like you too."

You smiled at this, squeezing his hands affectionately, "Yeah? Does that mean you wanna keep hanging out?"

"Yeah, I'd love that."

~

Unfortunately, time for Seokmin to go home eventually came and he bid his goodbyes to you.

The two of you spent a few hours after your heart to heart actually working on your project and later watching a few episodes of a show you said you'd been watching on Hulu. It was a nice time for Seokmin to get to know you outside of school, and it only reinstated how much he liked you already.

It was about 10PM by the time he got home, which was usually around the time he went to sleep due to the early hours of his classes the following day. Almost as soon as he finished his nightly skincare and prepared himself to go to sleep, he suddenly got a call.

It was odd for him to get calls in general, but this time around he knew who it'd be before even checking his phone.

It was his parents.

Seokmin had seen this coming. He had gotten too into his head this past week; too into you. Not only had he neglected contacting his parents as frequently as they had agreed (re: every night in order to 'keep a close eye on him'), but he had also been neglecting his religious duties. He had not kept contact with any of his religious friends from back home nor had he even attended church as of late. And surprisingly ... Seokmin had not minded these recent developments. He felt freer than ever. For the first time in his life, he was not under constant surveillance, receiving judgment for any instance in which his parents believed him to step out of line in his religious lifestyle.

Back home, a single absence from bi-weekly mass would be met with passive aggressive disapproval. Any instance in which Seokmin expressed interest in anything outside of the church (such as non catholic music and dance – both of which his parents had immediately shut down), he felt as if he was breaking a law at the way in which his parents would scold him for ever even considering such 'perverted' hobbies.

Upon moving away, Seokmin had begun to realize that his upbringing hadn't been as perfect as he had thought it to be, that his parents didn't love him as unconditionally as he first thought. He thought back to his brother's estrangement from his family and felt regret at not standing up for him, knowing that his parents would turn on him just as fast as they did Jeonghan.

With a sigh, he picked up the call, mustering as much interest as he could. He made some excuse as to why he had been unable to keep in contact and promised to be better moving forward. He faked a smile in his voice and forced his way through a peaceful call (sans the few passive aggressive comments his parents threw his way) and called it a night.

For the first time in his life, he put religion and his parents aside to give himself a restful sleep, only looking forward to seeing you the next morning and going to sleep with the remembrance of what the two of you did fresh in his mind.

"Oh ... I- please ..."

"Just like that, Minnie, fuck ... Don't move, angel. Just let me do all the work, yeah?", you ground against him even faster, angling your hips so that his member would grace against your clothed folds.

It seemed like the dam had broken for you at the same time as it had for Seokmin, because you had jumped him the very next time he made his way through the threshold of your apartment.

The two of you kissed until exhausting yourselves, leading Seokmin to beg you to undress both you and him (with pleading eyes rather than verbally, as he was still too shy to beg for such things with words).

It was only one day after you had given Seokmin oral (a concept which you had introduced him to), which somehow made Seokmin even more desperate to have you. Even after his parents' call ruining his mood, you had managed to bring it back up immediately after when you messaged him late at night suggesting the two of you meet up today. After spending the entire day together, Seokmin walked you home yet again, only to be jumped by you (once again) upon entering your apartment.

One thing led to another and Seokmin found himself fully unclothed under you as you ground against him through the thin layer of your panties. Seokmin was completely weightless under you, becoming a shell of his old self as he desperately guided your hips to grind against him. He wasn't sure where this would lead, but he felt the usual conflict that always arose when the two of you were alone like this. Even through all your reassurance, Seokmin felt as if he was betraying an oath by engaging with his sexual desires for you. However, these thoughts were immediately pushed aside when you leaned back down to kiss him again.

The kiss was nasty, for lack of a better word. Seokmin didn't fully realize it, but his desperation for your touch would sometimes render him into a sloppy kisser, but you seemed to not mind it as you moaned and licked into his mouth any time his kisses got a bit messy. Your grinding got more and more intense by the second, throwing your head back at the way Seokmin senselessly canted his hips against your own.

"M-minnie ... Want more ... Is that okay? Just need to feel you so bad ... Please ..."

"M-more?"

"Do you want it too, Minnie? Wanna know what it feels like?"

"Show me? Wh- Oh ..."

"You want it too, don't you? Hmm? You're so hard against me, angel. Don't you wanna feel me?"

"I just ..."

Before he could formulate a response through the lust that was clouding his mind, you suddenly brought one of his hands between your bodies, going behind the forbidden threshold of your underwear. Anxious but also incredibly turned on, Seokmin fell limp and allowed you to do whatever you wanted. You grabbed his middle and pointer fingers, angling them so that they could seamlessly slip between your folds. Though Seokmin had already felt the wetness between your legs the day prior, he had not properly felt just how warm and tight you could be.

"Oh, it's so ... Fuck," he moaned when you began guiding his hand so his fingers could go in and out.

"Shit, Minnie ... So good ... Wanna feel it now, angel? Will you give it to me?", you slipped his fingers out after proving your point, now going back to caressing his cheek with your own hand.

"B-but ... It's a sin ..." he let out before even realizing. Even with your constant reassurance up to this point, Seokmin still felt ties to his faith that made him second-guess himself.

He knew that he had already gone past certain point with you, and that having sex with you wouldn't make much difference in his morality, but he still thought of all the teachings of celibacy and all the censorship his community had forced onto him. Was this the right choice? His body was screaming at him to let himself go and seek his high from you. His mind was telling him similar things, though there was also emphasis on the fact that doing this with you, of all people, would be the best choice he could ever make.

"Angel ... It's okay to want it. You don't have to be scared ... I'll take care of you. Just wanna be close to you, Minnie. Don't you want that too? Hmm? Just like you so much, angel," you kisses softly at his chest as you said this, breaking his resolve.

And you were right. He wanted this so badly. He wanted to be as close to you as possible, to give himself to you in the most intimate way he could.

"Y-yes. Want you so much ..." he was shy as he said it, but he meant it to the fullest extent.

You proceeded to sensually remove your underwear, sitting back down above Seokmin's dick as you made a show of grinding your nude pelvises against one another, making Seokmin cry out in desperation.

Any doubts he had left him as soon as you allowed his tip to slip in, throwing his head back as he finally felt your warmth envelop him. You let out a variety of expletives at the feelings, all while clawing at Seokmin's chest, something that had his back arching in unexpected pleasure.

"Oh, Minnie ... So full, f-fuck ..." you moaned out, taking on a slow yet deep pace that made Seokmin shut his eyes and scrunch his nose.

Seokmin couldn't describe the pleasure you were giving him. He was practically frozen in place, the only part of his body still conscious were his hands, which were likely bruising your hips from how hard he was digging his fingers onto them. He needed to keep himself grounded, but he truly felt like today was judgment day, and he had gone to heaven.

"Open your eyes, angel. Wanna see you," your hand reached over to his cheek, angling his head so he could look your way rather than keep his head in its thrown back state.

He opened his eyes to find you smiling down at him with the light hanging on your ceiling providing the best view of you possible. You looked like an angel gazing down at him, like you came down to give him the greatest ruin and drag him back up with you. You had corrupted him in the best way possible.

"Oh, Minnie ... So beautiful. My prettiest boy ... Does it feel good, angel?", he nodded and let out a whine at your soft inquiries, "Yeah? How's it feel when I do this?", you squeezed around him, now bouncing rather than grinding against him, making him close his eyes back up and cry out your name.

"I- Please! I need ...", his nails clawed at your hips and back, begging for something unknown to him. He needed more, but he wasn't sure of what.

"I know, pretty. Gonna give it to you, just- fuck ... Just need you to be good for me, yeah?," you hiccuped, leaning down to kiss him again.

He cried against your lips, eyes rolling back when your tongue began dancing with his own, your hands reaching down to toy with his nipples. You were giving him too many things at once, making the overstimulation take over his already hazy brain. He didn't care about any moral repercussions to what you were doing together. Every time you touched him further solidified how right being with you felt.

Only a few moments of your ministrations were enough for Seokmin to feel that familiar coil begin to tighten. He knew his end was near, causing him to grow restless as he planted his legs on the bed and humped against you. Despite his lack of proper technique and the sloppiness of his movements, you matched his own and wailed his name.

Your hands came down to bring his up and pin them above his head, grinding deeper and deeper against him as the two of you crazily chased your highs. The bed shook against the wall at the intensity of your actions, with nothing but nasty sounds of your muffled moans and your arousal filling up the silence. Eventually you disconnected your lips, eyeing the string of spit that connected you before burying your head in the crook of his neck.

"I- I like you so much," he groaned out, high-pitched and breathless.

"Like you so fucking m-much! You have no idea ..." you reciprocated his words as you clamped down around him and let yourself be taken by your high. Your high was more than enough to trigger his own, leaving him in a practically astral state for a few moments as his hands ran frantically up and down your body, squeezing and scratching every so often.

When your highs finally wore down, you laid yourself beside him, cuddling him near you so you could wrap your legs around him and bring him as close as possible. You faced each other as you caught your breaths, running your hands along the length of his back as his own rubbed at your hips. The moment was pure bliss.

"Do you regret it?"

"No. I could never regret anything we've done. I- I'm sorry if I made you feel that way," he looked away from your eyes.

You nudged him to look at you once more, "Don't apologize, Minnie. I understand. I'm happy I was your first. Maybe one day I'll teach you even more fun things," you flirted through a giggle.

"Oh, I- Hah, yeah", he was caught off guard by your flirting, but still laughed along.

Yeah, he wouldn't mind that.

Over the following weeks, Seokmin did a better job of keeping up with his parents. He kept a safe distance while still giving them the belief that he was still fully engaged in the religious spaces they had envisioned for him. However, he could not help but lie when it came to what occupied his day to day life – you. He didn't bring you up, which you agreed upon after a tearful conversation in which Seokmin detailed his upbringing, leading you to spend the night up with him as you comforted him. He was also yet to attend mass again, and he even occasionally skipped the bi-weekly meetings of his church group – though only when you skipped also. These were a few of the things he kept secret from his family – advice from his brother Jeonghan, who he had recently gotten in contact with again.

Seokmin's faith was still standing; his relationship with God was slightly injured by his internal conflict about your sexual relationship, though he was now sure that he felt no regrets at anything the two of you had engaged in. To him, being with you felt like the biggest reward he could have ever hoped for. Seokmin realized quickly that his issue really laid with the catholic community in which he had been brought up, rather than his relationship with God itself. He disagreed with the judgmental and overbearing way in which certain catholics circles ran, something which he distanced himself from upon meeting you.

You had even introduced him to a few of your friends, some which were even catholic like him. Your buddy Joshua was one of the chillest guys he had ever met, yet his faith was pretty intact. This made Seokmin feel less guilt, though his balance between what was right and wrong in the eyes of God was still a bit of a mess. Luckily he had you help him navigate his way through that.

Along with all these developments, Seokmin had also begun speaking to his brother Jeonghan again (behind his parents' backs, of course). It made him happy to know that despite his brother straying away from his community, he had ended up happy with his life, leading a steady relationship and being happy away from his parents' constant religious persecution.

And you ... You had become official in these past few weeks, making Seokmin constantly have to pinch himself to confirm whether or not he was imagining all this. He was still a very shy and awkward individual, usually opting to hang out alone with you in either of your apartments. He appreciated how patient you were with him, never judging him for being a bit different and even teaching him the pleasures he had been missing out on during his very restricted upbringing. You had become a piece of heaven on earth to Seokmin, corrupting him, but only in the best of ways.

a/n: i left so many things unresolved here oops but all i cared about was seokmin's character development and we got there in the end so! anyways hope u guys enjoyed!!

To read short 2k word continuation u can go join my monthly tier on kofi or patreon!

content:

wc: 587 (teaser); 2080 (full drabble)

sneak peak:

Seokmin was, yet again, at a crossroads. Though this time it wasn't anything too serious, or maybe it was.

By current time, it had now been four months since the two of you had begun dating. 'I love you's' were shared and multiple sleep overs were had. Your relationship had been everything anyone could hope for a first relationship, and Seokmin now felt way more at ease whenever the two of you did anything sexual.

Admittedly, Seokmin was still slightly awkward about it, still never allowing himself to start sexual interactions and simply following your lead. Which was the crux of his current predicament.

He was unsure if he had done something wrong, if he had maybe insulted you or maybe there was some other unknown reason behind, but it had been over a week since the two of you had slept together. Over the past four months, the two of you spent most of your nights together, taking on a very domestic routine within the first two months of your relationship. Though you obviously didn't get down to sexual activities every day, it was common for it to happen a few times a week (at the least).

It usually began with you cornering Seokmin against the wall after a tiring day of college, or sometimes it began during a movie night in which you couldn't keep your hands to yourself. Whatever it was, you were always giving Seokmin an opening to entertain his sexual desires with you whenever he pleased. Even though he was always too shy to ask, it was almost as if you were able to read his mind and always incite him when he needed it most.

His sexual desires for you had grown quite a lot, making Seokmin worry at times. Was it normal how badly he wanted you at all times? Was this a consequence of having never before received pleasure until meeting you? He felt like a degenerate sometimes, from how badly he wanted you. Which was the main reason as to why he grew antsy so quickly after not having sex with you for the past week or so.

In contrast to these past months, this past week and a half (nine days to be exact; not that Seokmin was keeping count or anything), you had not given Seokmin anything further than a sweet peck on the lips whenever the two of you fell asleep next to each other. You didn't act any differently past that, still showering him with love and spending as much time as you could with him.

It wasn't that Seokmin expected sex from you or anything, but ever since you had taught him how pleasurable it could be to have a romantic partner, he could not see himself ever going back to his old, puritan lifestyle. Seokmin had become, for lack of a better word, an addict. He couldn't help himself in desiring you every time he caught an inch of your bare legs or the soft skin of your breasts through your cleavage. He had deprived himself of sex for far too long and now he could no longer live without it.

He didn't want to seem desperate, or as if he only valued you for sex, but he needed to get to the bottom of this and find a way to get you to touch him again. He was far too shy to ever ask you directly, but he would work his hardest to entice you into letting him have you again

...

find the 18+ continuation on kofi or patreon!

support me through a one time tip<3

[missmimii]

𖤐 𝐇𝐀𝐔𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐃 - 𝐌 ~ 𝐒𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐎𝐋𝐎

୨ৎ － 𝐒𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬 - In which Matt convinces his girlfriend to film a video in a haunted house, the fearful events taking a turn for the better once he gives her the perfect distraction to keep her fright at bay.

✰-

୨ৎ — 𝐂𝐖. 18+, dom!matt, fem!reader, smut, f!oral receiving (Matt the munch forever), language, public(kinda?) dirty talk, light, light degradation, pet names, teasing, light fluff

𝐌𝐃𝐍𝐈!

♡︎－ 𝒩ℴ𝓉ℯ * This is probably the first time I’ve written detailed smut, so let me know how I did/how I can improve! Ily guys so much, and I appreciate the recent support. It’s surreal ❤︎︎

୨ৎ － 𝐰𝐜 - 𝟕.𝟒𝐤

Starting on the current day going forward, Y/n made a promise to herself to never agree to be in a video with Matt ever again. Granted- she should’ve known he was up to no good when he offered his affection as a payment, but it was Matt.

The same Matt whose bribe seemed oddly similar to the many occasions he’d want to cling onto the girls side, press his face in the crook of her neck as he whispered all of the sinful things he thought of the beautiful girl. So when he said he’d fuck her till she saw stars, purely just for her appearance in a video, she thought nothing of it.

Because he loved his girlfriend.

Y/n was used to being in the triplets content regularly, which was given, seeing as she was the triplet’s girlfriend. Other than the odd occasions where she’d take a beat to focus on her own life as well as her personal career.

Said videos usually consisted of the four doing small activities that they knew the girl enjoyed. Q&A’s, because as much as she denied the accusations (she was fond of saying silly little facts about herself). Or something as simple as vlogging themselves shopping at thrift stores, a side hobby of the girls, that may have been a slight problem.

Just something to show off his gratitude and love for his girlfriend, showed the people watching that the angel was in fact, a very important piece in the scrambled puzzle of his life.

And though he loved his brothers, he couldn’t deny that one of the main reasons her got up every day, and stayed consistent with filming content, was because of the girl. He wanted to make her proud of his work, his job being the third on his lists of his best accomplishments.

𝟏－Nick & Chris

𝟐－Y/n (and how he managed to bag such a perfect, beautiful girl)

𝟑－His career

But because their content was usual tame and collected, random vlogs, that always consisted of activities that never were considered strange, Y/n immediately agreed to make an appearance in there latest video. Matt, on the other hand, inwardly cringed to himself at her lack of hesitation.

Was he lying to her? Not exactly. But was he avoiding telling her the full truth? Abso-fucking-lutely.

Small tea lights surrounded the group, as well as the blue rope that was laid out on the unstable floorboards beneath. Y/n felt her heart skip a beat whenever she heard a creak, forgetting that it was the century old flooring.

I can’t believe he talked me into this.

Because the girl was away for work for days on end, weeks- even, she didn’t hear everything about what happened back in LA in her absence. Of course they’d FaceTime as much as possible, but he as always to damn distracted, watching her.

Matt would watch her plump lips speak at a perfect pace through the camera, biting on the edge of his thumb as he wondered how amazing they’d feel against his own lips. She’s so fucking beautiful. Miss’ her so much. I wonder how it’d feel to be inside her right in this very moment.

And in result of his overwhelming thoughts of her, the reoccurring subject during these late night calls would also be her. Matt always missed her. Missed her touch, her voice, her perfect nails that would lightly scratch against his back as she lulled him to sleep at night, his head gently placed between her plush breasts.

Apparently (according to the man himself) Matt found himself missing the girl so much, that as he babbled on and on about how much he needed her, wanted her, and could practically feeling his cock being squeezed by the walls of her pussy, he might’ve forgot to mention that Nick had set up a collab with the two ghost hunters.

Y/n stared down at the illuminated rope that was weaved around the large group, flashes of blue and red intermittently sparking along the rope. An EMF cord. She was quite literally, being surrounded by hundreds of entities.

Lord please help me.

The girl flinched a bit as she felt a hand being pressed on the small of her back, immediately thinking ghost. “Woah.” Matt chuckled, looking down at the distressed girl as she blew out a soft gasp. “You alright?” The triplet tilted his head, running his hand comfortingly down her back.

Y/n’s shoulders fell with relief, silently shaking her head while simultaneously reaching out for his hand. Matt’s eyebrows drew together with worry, but didn’t hesitate before taking in her smaller, trembling one into his large hand. “Say the word and the video is scrapped.” She immediately shook her head.

“No- you’ve been looking forward for this for a while now.” Matt felt his stomach swoop with guilt, watching his beautiful girl run a distressed hand through the tendrils of her hair. “And Nick.” He rose a brow at the mention of triplet. “He hasn’t shut up about the stupid- ETES test, for weeks.” She stressed out.

Matt softly chuckled, sliding the hand that rest on her back to gently grip her waist. “I don’t care what Nick wants. The kids spoiled.” Y/n rolled her eyes at the childish remark, but felt her lips tip upward at the corners. “I care that you’re okay, baby.” His other hand cupped her cheek, soothingly running the pad of his thumb over the scar nearing the corner of her eye.

Matt watched in adoration as the girls eyelashes fluttered against her pink cheeks, batting them unintentionally as she peered up at him with that expression he could never get enough of. “I’ll be okay. I’m just being a big baby.” Y/n grumbled the last part in a soft voice, not even wanting the words to leave her mouth.

His lips fell into a smirk as he hummed, the thumb that rest against her cheek sliding down the dewy skin of her jaw and seductively smoothing over the plumpness of her bottom lip. “That’s because you are one.” Y/n’s frown deepened, as well as a redness illuminating against her cheeks.

Matt grunted at the sight, watching a stain of pink smudge against his thumb while it slid from her lips. “Cut it out.” He murmured, running his tongue along his bottom lip as he leered down at the girl with a dark expression. Y/n lifted an eyebrow, maybe with a slight attitude. “The pout.” Matt added.

Oh. The girl couldn’t help herself, a grin beaming across her pink lips as she cocked her head up at him. “And why’s that?” Y/n inquired, the false innocence apparent to the triplet, being fully aware of her games.

Matt felt his tongue twinge the inside of his cheek as he looked down at the nymph, feeling himself aching below through carpenter jeans he wore regularly. “Why?” He repeated, giving the girl a final chance to correct whatever little attitude she was about to cop.

Y/n hummed, zero hesitation as she placed a hand on his chest and drug the sharp ends of her nails along the thin fabric of his graphic tee. “Mhm..” His breath got caught in his throat as she pulled her bottom lip into her mouth, before forcing them into a small pout. “Is it because you don’t like to see me sad?” Fuck it.

The girl immediately yelped as she was being tugged forward, the hand of his that once rested gently against her waist, now used as leverage to bring her closer. “Sad, huh?” Chills went up at her arms, Matt’s breath feathering against the shell of her ear as he brought her into the warmth of his body. “If you keep up that little look, you’ll see just how fuckin’ hard you being ‘sad’ gets me.” He gritted against her ear.

All the girl could do was stand there, mouth gaping as she took in his words. Swallowing the lump she felt in her throat, she flicked her gaze away. “Looking forward to it.” She mumbled, rolling her eyes.

The remark wasn’t intended for his ears, fully. A sick part in the girl wanted him to hear the snarky tone, but the other, sane half, knew it was possibly the worst time to rile the man up. And if there was one thing that Y/n knew for sure, it was that Matt wouldn’t respond positively.

And he didn’t.

She got exactly one step away from him before she felt a hand gripping her wrist, chills going up her arms at the contact. “Repeat that.” Y/n felt the racing of the triplets heart as he tugged her closer, the girls back brushing against his chest.

The girl opened and closed her mouth, scrambling for a reply, or rather a lie. “I-” She practically whined as he hummed against her neck, knowing that it was a warning. “You didn’t let me finish my sentence!” The girl rushed out, spinning around to face the boy.

He lifted a brow, urging her to continue as she fiddled with the hem of his T-shirt. “I said.. looking’ forward to doing the ETES test.” She rushed out, sending him a sheepish smile.

Matt looked at her for a solid seven seconds, before his lips broke out into a smile. He just couldn’t help it. She looked as angelic as always, the flyaway hairs framing her adorable expressionisms perfectly. Matt found himself amused by her bratty approach, and though his hand did itch to slap that beautiful ass of hers, he knew to tread lightly when she was sensitive in situations like now.

“Mhm.” He shook his head a bit, rolling his eyes as he forced the smile from his lips. “Careful, kid.” Y/n, being unable to help herself, reached up and pinched his one cheek with a soft giggle. “Saw that. You aren’t slick, buddy.” The girl teased on, still giggling at his past reaction to her brattiness.

Men were too easy.

“Stop flirting with each other and get the fuck over here, you two!”

Y/n’s shoulders dropped, the momentary distraction Matt had offered her now long vanished at the sound of the youngest triplets shout. A searing light blared into the couples eye as they turned back to the group. “Jesus, Chris.” Matt hissed, using his one hand to cover his own eyes, the reaching out to guard the girls. “Put the fucking flashlight down, dummy.”

Chris being Chris, pointed at his brother and laughed, simultaneously waving the light in front of his face. “Chris,” Another voice chimed in, the black light being snatched from his hand. Nick glared as he stood aside the younger triplet, using the handle end of the flashlight to poke his side. “Stop be a fucking child.” He hissed.

Chris yelped, jumping away from the contact. “Ouchh.” All three of them, Y/n Matt and Nick, watched as the childish male hunched over while holding his side. “I’m actually burning all of your shit, Nick.” He continued to overexaggerate his pain, before abruptly reaching out to slap the eldest twin.

Matt rolled his eyes, already seeing the fight that was to break out before it even began. Wrapping two arms around her from behind, he tugged Y/n back into his chest while taking a step back from the two. Y/n stumbled backward, lips parting as she fell into the warmth of his chest with a small umph.

Her arms were comfortingly trapped beneath the boy’s tattooed ones as he leaned his head down to her ear. “You staying’ at my house tonight?” He mumbled against her jaw, the bridge of his nose brushing along her cheek as he placed a soft peck just below her ear.

She giggled at the contact, shifting a bit in his hold. “I don’t think I could even fathom sleeping alone after this.” He hummed, placing another light kiss on the area.

“After what? This, or the ghosts?” Chills went up her arms as he whispered the words against her face, the warmth of his breath grazing the curve of her jaw sensually. “Would you be shifting in bed, chills like this,” He ran his thumb along her arm, making a whimper emit from her lips. “-all up every inch of your body, because of how much you needed me? Or will it be the nightmares?” He murmured.

Y/n was basically panting as he finally ended his sentence, a bead of sweat slowly sliding down the span of her back, just between her trapezius. “… maybe a little bit of both.” She whispered softly, the words hitting Matthew’s ears like a velvety melody.

As if there were a record player in the man’s head, the vinyl that was Y/n’s voice played on repeat in his mind, resulting in the desperate aching sensation he felt growing in his jeans. “Fuck.” Matt cursed himself, momentarily looking heavenward.

“Who’s ready for the test?”

All heads turn at the sound of a voice that may have been a touch too enthusiastic for the current events. The two friends, Sam and Colby standing side by side, both grinning ear to ear. Y/n shook her head incredulously. Who was I to judge their weird little hobbies.

Nicks hand flew up, making the girl giggle softly. “I’m so fucking ready.” Chris nodded in agreement, both boys having already decided they’d go first for the test. Matt was hesitant at the beginning, not because he was scared, but because he didn’t want to say anything that may have freaked the girl out.

His upmost priority was keeping her calm, and so far his attempts hadn’t failed. “What about you two?” Colby pointed his index fringe in between the couple, lifting a brow. Matt slowly looked down, seeing the girls face absolutely terrified.

She was quite literally froze with fear, gaping at the dark haired male with wide eyes. “Like-now?” Y/n stumbled with her words, hands wringing together anxiously.

Colby nodded nonchalantly. “After these two, yeah.” He mumbled, fumbling with the camera before flicking his gaze back to the girl. “Only if you feel comfortable with it.” The male added quickly, noticing the slight warning look Matt was throwing his way.

The girl averted her gaze downward, her breathing having picked up rapidly in pace. She couldn’t- she wouldn’t. Matt suddenly adjusted the gentle hold he had on her, nudging around so she faced him. “Hey,” She shook her head. “Look at me.” Matt reached out, tipping her chin upward.

Y/n blinked up at the blue eyed boy, fighting back the tears of frustration as she gazed up at him. “I really don’t want to.” He immediately nodded, using his thumb to effortlessly brush away the one lone tear that had fallen. “And you don’t have to, yeah?” She sniffed a bit, shutting her eyes for a brief pause.

She was that friend.

She felt like one of those kids who dipped their feet in the pool instead of swimming because they couldn’t. “… I’ll do it if you do it with me.” She blurted out, her hands balling into fists.

Matt’s eyes widened at his girlfriend’s sudden change in attitude. “You want to do it?” She nodded, making the triplets face churn with even more confusion. “You- you want to do the ETES test? Talk to ghosts-” The more he went on, the more frightened she became, but he couldn’t help it.

What the fuck had gotten into his girlfriend?

Y/n groaned and softly shoved his chest. “Stop talking about it!” She whispered hissed, making him immediately halt his ranting. Matt blew out a breath, scratching the back of his head as he looked down at the girl. “Okay.” He nodded.

Her eyebrows flew up. “Just ‘okay’? Not, ‘okay I’ll do it with you’ or oka-” She was cut off from her rambling as set of lips were placed against hers, immediately resulting in her emitting a soft. She felt her entire body drop as the weight fell from her shoulders, Matt’s perfectly soft lips moulding against hers passionately.

The triplet let his eyes lull shut as he pressed himself closer into the girls body, both hands cupping her flushed cheeks as he smiled into the kiss. “Yes,” The boy muttered into between kisses. “I’ll do it with you, baby.” He chuckled, placing soft pecks around her mouth and jaw.

The girls nose scrunched at the ticklish sensation, giggling as she pushed her hands against the triplet’s chests. “Matt!” She exclaimed in an undertone, still laughing as she attempted to shove him away. “Cut it out.” The male shook his head, lightly nipping at her cheek.

“Can’t help it.” His speech came out slurred with his lips pressed against the soft skin of her cheek. “You look so fucking good with in this jacket- and that fuckin’ top.” Matt practically whined against her jaw, thumbing over the opening of her cropped shirt.

Maybe ghosts weren’t too scary …

✰-

“Holy fuck, man.”

Chris practically trampled through the closest door, slamming the door on Nicks face as he tore the merlot fabric from his eyes. “Those ghosts almost talk more than Nick.” He snickered, wincing as Nick pinched his side. “Kidding.” He grumbled.

Y/n watched as the door creaked open, the dusty sofa sitting inside awaiting the couple. I can’t believe I was doing this. Matt held both pieces of red fabric, feeling himself even slightly uneasy as he looked in the meekly lit room.

Dread. The girl was dreading the second her bottom landed on the leather sofa, and she was just about prepared to do anything to prolong it. Y/n felt her palms dampen with sweat, her hand twitching at the urge to reach out and grip Matt’s sleeve.

He’s right beside me- I’ll be fine.

The triplet beat her to it though, seeing her overwhelmed state as she shrunk into her own body, prompting him to reach out and grab her trembling hand. Her head snapped in his direction, finding the males eyes already on hers. “Good?” He asked, raising a brow.

Butterflies pressed against her stomach as her dilated pupils gazed into his blue eyes, feeling the world around her spin at the look that illuminated from his eyes. How could one look hold so much … love?

She blinked twice, shaking herself from whatever trance she was in. “Yes- yeah.” The girl uttered, looking down at their intertwined hands as she fiddled with the ring woven around his index finger. “Are you?” She murmured.

The corners of Matt’s mouth turned up at the inquiry. “Yeah.. m’fine doll.” Seeing her meek nod, he softly chuckled. “Are you sure?”

Y/n nipped at her bottom lip, flicking her eyes back up to the triplet’s. “Mhm.” At her nod, Matt offered one of his own.

It was on the tip of her tongue, she just had to say the word and he’d happily lift the girl into his arms, and walk out of the dump of house. The content mine as well have been nothing to him if his girl wasn’t okay the entire time.

“Here,” The male mumbled, the girl freezing with confusion. “Turn around for me sweetheart.” Her lips formed an ‘O’, and she turned her back to him. Matt carefully brushed away the few strands of hair that framed her face, making sure that none of them got caught as he gently tied the red fabric over her eyes.

Y/n sucked in a breath, her vision going black as she dug her nails into the flesh of her palms. “Atta’ girl.” She heard him murmur by her ear, before her nose crinkled as he pressed a harsh kiss on the side of her head.

“Matt.” She hushed, chuckling as she dodged his wandering touch. The tips of his fingers thumbed against the fabric, double checking that she in fact, could not see.

Something sinister ignited in the triplet as soon as her ability of seeing was enabled, a smirk cursing his lips. Touch would be so … sensational. She’d never know where his hand would glide off to next. Feeling her breath get caught in her throat, Y/n froze as she felt Matt brush his hand against bare skin of her abdomen. “Matt?” She whispered softly.

…

The girl was met with silence, resulting in a wave of confusion rolling over her body. Along with a spark set off in her core as she felt that same hand began to toy with the button of her jean shorts. A breath was sucked in as headphones were placed atop her head, the muffled sound of her own heart becoming the only thing she could hear.

Boom boom boom

The muffled sound of people talking was drowned out as the girls heart beat through her ears, Matthew’s feathering touch grazing her lower stomach. The boy bit down on his bottom lip as he watched his own fingers just barley pop the button her shorts open, the heat igniting within his body killing him.

God I need her.

Anger consumed his mood as he managed to pry his touch from the girls soft skin, knowing that the group was waiting for him to get on with the damn test. Jaw clenching as he snuggly knotted the fabric over his eyes, now unable to see the unworldly woman right in front of him.

“You guys all set?” Sam exclaimed, his voice coming off far too enthusiastic. Matt nodded stiffly, as did the girl.

Matt guided his hand lower, gently wrapping his larger one around the girls. “Feel for the door, hm?” He breathed against her ear, keeping his body close to hers as they walk forward. Y/n sucked in a breath, feeling the obvious hardness that pressed into her backside. “Kay’.” She murmured.

The triplet felt his lips tip up, rubbing the pad of this thumb against her wrist as they continued to move close to the door. Both of their steps came to a halt as Y/n’s hand brushed the corner of the door, using her hand to shove it open so they could enter. “Good luck you two!” Colby yelled, chuckling as he said something to the camera afterwards.

Good luck indeed.

A cold chill ran up the girls back, blowing out a breath as kept the urge to wrap her arms around herself. “It’s so cold.” She mumbled, her own voice muffled to the triplets ears. The room was pitch black other than the few tea candles, not that either parties would know due to the bonding around their eyes.

Unexpectedly, the feeling of dread that she assumed would stem from hearing ghosts, wasn’t what had her shaking. It was the overwhelming presence of her boyfriend, she could practically feel him breathing down her neck from several steps away.

But how could he help it? Matt leaned back against the wall, heart pattering painfully as he reached down to palm the raging erection that was now prominent through his pants. Fuck- how was I supposed to focus on ghosts when I was this fucked up? His head tipped against the hard brick wall, tucking his bottom lip between his teeth as he resisted the urge to fist his cock.

The room was freezing, sending the hairs on his arms straight up as he fought his inner turmoil. Fuck it. Within seconds he was ripping the headset from his head, the thin fabric covering his eyes flowing to the floor immediately after.

Y/n stood in the same place as before, nipping at the skin around her thumb as she awaited .. anything. A whisper, a random breeze, words, anything that indicated something paranormal. Minutes after minutes went by, before she sucked in an abrupt breath.

The hairs on the back of her neck stood up as she felt a gust of air graze from behind her, before vanishing within mere seconds. It was as if a spider had crawled past her, the fight or flight instincts fully in activation. That was before a low voice was spoken through the speaker of the headphones, making her flinch.

Behind you.

Y/n froze in fear, shaking violently as she fought back tears. “Matt?” Her voice came out wobbly, cracking nearing the end of her sentence. Even if he had replied, she wouldn’t have been able to hear due to the headphones.

Matt watched as the girl froze, lips curving into a smirk as he stalked forward. His poor baby, he cooed to himself, finally using his one hand to girl the side of her waist from behind. “Shh..” He quieted the timid girl as she lurched forward, obviously not expecting the touch.

Y/n felt her shoulders tense, her blood running cold as a hand squeezed her waist. It was Matt- it had to be. The sane part of her knew it was him, but the other told her it was an entity. This fear only multiplied by ten as another hand reached out from behind her, slim fingers dragging across her trachea.

Matt bit down on his lip as he felt the girls body shake against his, his fingers fiddling with the locket around her neck. He couldn’t help but reminisce the memories of the night he’d gifted to her, the events feeling oddly recent. It was their two year anniversary, and also the week before her birthday.

He wanted the girl to feel special, for her to know that she was everything he could ever dream for. It was a small butterfly locket that embroidered her birthstone right in the middle, the jewel glimmering against her untainted skin during any given moment of the day.

He quickly came to realize his love the necklace that same night. As the girl straddled his lap in the seat of his car, the small charm dangling down against his neck as she tightened herself around his cock, riding him like her life depended on it.

She practically went limp in his lap, her chest falling against his as she breathlessly moaned next to his ear. He locked away the lewd sounds in the back of his brain, seeing as it was odd that she was overly expressive in bed. He always knew she felt good as her hands gripped the sheets, or went he felt his dick being practically suffocated by the walls of her pussy as she clamped around him.

Matt let the thoughts cloud his mind, the desperation of needing her becoming overwhelming. “Fuck.” He whispered to himself, the hand that brushed against her neck flattening against the surface, entrapping the sides of her neck in his strong hand.

Almost immediately after, a whimper came from the girls lips. “Matt?” Yes. He wanted to say it so fucking bad. Hold the girl to his chest as he assured her it was him who had gotten ahold of her. But something.. portentous came over him.

The triplet felt the girls pulse thrum in his hold, a sadistic feeling setting in his heart. Something told him to slam her against the side of the wall, to fill her up so good with his cock, proving that he was the only person capable of making her feel so good, her eyes rolling back into her skull as she realized it was him.

He blew out a breath, shakily removing the headphones from atop her head, tossing them off to the couch. “Baby..” Y/n’s shoulders fell with relief, breathing out a deep sigh as she recognized the voice to be her boyfriends. Though, at the exact moment of relief, her stomach tightened at the tone of voice she knew all too well.

The same husky octave his voice dropped to whenever he got himself worked up, slowly drifting off into a whiny one as he begged to be inside her. “Stop fucking with me, Matt.” The girl finally managed to hiss out, shifting in his hold.

He groaned as her ass dug into the tent in his jeans, still fighting against his hold. “Cut it out.” He snapped, squeezing the outside of her neck lightly, the gesture a clear warning. Y/n rolled her eyes, anger consuming her.

“You scared the hell out of me.” Matt chuckled a bit, hearing the whine in her voice as she spoke. “You know I’m not good with all of this, be gentle.” She murmured.

His heart swooped a bit as he hummed, placing a peck on the back of her head. “Gentle, hm?” The girl bobbed her head, still experiencing the aftershocks of the momentary fear she’d experienced. “I’ll be so fuckin’ gentle with you, doll.” He whispered against the shell of her ears, making her shiver.

Her hand instinctively reached around to unbind the tie around her eyes, the motion being halted as a larger one caught her hand. “Leave it.” Matt muttered, the girl slowly lowering her hand to her side as she hearted the warning in his tone.

What the fuck had gotten into him?

The hand that was on her waist slowly trailed down her side, sensually grazing her hip dip before his fingers began to toy with her shorts button. “These are adorable, baby.” Matt murmured as he looked down at his own movements, feeling lost in his own thoughts.

He’d been thinking it all night. The girl looked too fuckable. Even if it wasn’t purposeful, her every move had the triplet leaning on a wall as he begged his body to not react the ways it begged for. Sam had even stopped him at one point during the night, placing a hand in his shoulders as he gave his friend a look of concern.

“You alright man?” He’d inquiry.

Matt could only offer a dry nod as he leaned off of the wall, the muscles in his jaw clenching as he did his best to adjust his raging hard on without the rest of the group noticing.

Y/n’s breath hitched as the ends of two of the males fingers slowly dipped down the hem of her shorts, the material scraping against her thighs that were painfully clamped together, her body now reaching to much more sensitively with his touch. “Matt,” The girl whispered. “Your brothers are literally right outside.” She hissed.

He hummed, chuckling as he heard the girl whimper when she felt his fingers scrape along the lace of her undergarment. “Guess you’ll have to be quiet then, huh?” Much to her dismay, Matt’s hand withdrew itself from her small shorts.

A sense of relief filled her simultaneously, knowing that she wouldn’t have to force herself to stay silent if he really had decided to go further, but with that came the frustration end. Matt had been fucking with her all night, nothing short of grabbing her ass whenever she bent over to arranged the EMF cord, or whispering sinful things into her ear.

Shocked, a yelp escaped her mouth as she was suddenly being lifted from her feet, two hands snuggly wrapped around her lower waist from behind. “What-” She cut herself off, jaw going ajar as Matt spun her around, the two hands slipping down and cupping the undersides of her thighs. “What’re doing?!” She whispered.

The look of absolute horror on her face made Matt’s eyes twinkle with love, being completely immersed in her every expression. “Giving the ghosts a show.” He whispered, a smile creeping on his lips as he watched her pupils dilate.

She felt her back press against the cold stone wall, her oversized leather jacket scraping against the rock as he adjusted her body against the surface. The girls legs instinctively wrapped themselves around the males sides, her bottom landing on his thigh as he pressed knee against the wall as a makeshift seat.

“Like’ my pretty little trophy.” She felt the blindfold feather down from her eyes, gazing down at him with a heavy stare as he inhaled deeply, chest heaving. Both of his hands rested on her hips, molding around the area as he guided her lower half closer.

Y/n’s breath caught in her throat, fighting back the moan that threatened to bubble up as her core ignited with a burst of arousal, the hardness of his thigh pressing into her heat. “Fuck- Matt.” She gasped out, sending him a glare.

His blue eyes flicked up to hers, a smirk crossing his plump, a small pop sound registering in the girls ear as she looked down. Matt effortlessly undid the button of her shorts, following the action with tugging the denim down her smooth thighs. “Say the word.” Matt’s tongue twinge the inside of his cheek as he pulled the shorts down her thighs, stopping mid way to look up into her eyes.

He waited, and waited, just for her to tell him to stop. But he was met with silence. That was until two hands were gripping the neckline of the triplets shirt, pulling him closer into the warmth of her body. “Just- do something.” She finally managed out, a whine drawing out at the end of her plea.

Matthew immediately began to slip her bottoms off, chuckling huskily as he shook his head. “Such a little brat.” She leaned her weight on the surface of his muscular thigh, lifting her hips for easier access as Matt tugged the denim the rest of the way down, the shorts slipping down and hooking around her one ankle.

The male didn’t move with haste, taking his sweet time to lower himself to his knees, carefully lifting and placing the girls legs around his broad shoulders. Matt’s hands softly pry her thighs apart, littering small pecks to the inside of the dewy skin as he made his way through her two plush thighs.

One touch, one little graze of his lips against the lace of her faded pink underwear was all it took for her thighs to clamp around his head. With hooded eyes, he flicked his gaze up to the unknowing girl. “Baby,” Her head snapped down as she heard him tut, catching the look of his face. “Open your damn legs.” He muttered, hardening his gaze.

He didn’t have ask twice. “Atta’ girl.” He praised as her thighs parted, leaving the perfect amount of space for his head to slip between. Y/n assumed that the demand was finally going to result in her being touched. But much to her dismay, he continued to taunt her.

Whimpering as he nipped at her thigh, right next to where she needed him, she reached down and threaded a hand through his tousled hair. “Don’t give me that half assed shit.’ She whined, gritting her teeth a bit as the sexual frustration grew.

“Yes ma’am.” He joked, his fingertips teasing the hem lace of her underwear.

He leisurely slid the itchy material down her thighs, biting down on his bottom lip as he caught sight of her glistening core. “All for me. huh, baby?” Y/n nodded with a small hum, chest heaving as she peered down at him, Matt’s perfect lips pursing as he blew a cold stream of air onto the sensitive skin of her pussy.

“Matt.” His one hand that gripped the underside of her thigh lightly squeezed the area. “I know baby, I know.” He murmured. Within seconds the frustration she felt had passed, as Matt’s lips began moving against her lower ones. “Fuck.” She moaned breathily, her head falling back against the wall.

His tongue slipped between her slick folds, harshly lapping at her core as if he was savouring every inch of her. “So fuckin’ good.” He moaned softly against her.

Her eyes that had lulled shut with pleasure, slowly pulled open at the sound of Matt’s small whisper. “Huh?” She reached her hand down, running her fingers through his brunette hair before gently tugging his head up.

“What’d you say?” Y/n patted his cheek lightly, trying to snap him out of whatever hazy high he’d put himself in. As more wetness trickled down the insides of her thighs, Matt’s eyes had visibly blurred over, pupils dilated as he looked up at his girlfriend with need. “S’just so good.” The boy panted out.

Eyebrows knitting together, and lips parting as she went to reply. “Jesus!” It was replaced with a choked moan, her head thrown back in pleasure while Matt’s tongue reconnected with her heat, dragging a long stripe up her core. He felt her pulse against his tastebuds, locking the sounds she made every time he’d nudge her clit.

The triplet’s mind was utterly corrupted by the girl. Y/n this, Y/n that, god Y/n tasted so good, I wonder what Y/n would feel like- his thought process was entirely fucked. Leading to the current, the tip of his nose grazing her clit as he buried his face into her throbbing pussy. “Fuck.” He moaned with a slight slur, both hands down gripping each sides of her thighs.

Y/n’s eyes were squeezed shut, mouth ajar as she wondered what had gotten into her once tame and collected boyfriend. “Matt,” She’d whimper out every few seconds, the light melodic rhythm of her voice going completely deaf to the man’s ears, as he desperately lapped at her sopping heat.

It was only until he felt the girls thighs begin to clamp around his head that he was brought from his foggy mindset, hooded eyes dragging up to the breathless girl while removing his mouth from her pulsing core. “sweetheart,” he panted, running his ring clad hand down his jaw. “Don’t get me wrong, I fuckin’ love it,” He chuckled, making her roll her eyes with a small whimper.

“But I can’t really fuck you with my tongue, if you’re doing that.” She blew out a small sound of confusion, before spotting the pink area or skin behind his both ears, his diamond studs having pressed down against the skin whenever she’d clamp her thighs around his ears. “Can I?” He mumbled, lifting a brow.

She nodded pitifully, gripping his hair in her small hand ushering his face back to her drenched core. “Mhm.” Matt huffed out a sound of amusement, but like the gentleman he was, continued to guide the girl to her release. “Yess.” The hand in his hair gripped the tendrils harshly, pulling him closer into her as he swirled his tongue around the bundle of need.

He couldn’t help but glide his own hand downward, lightly palming over the obvious tent in his jeans. Matt neglected his aching cock for the extended period of time, ever since he saw her in that sexy little get up. Or when she’d accidentally brush her ass against his dick when she flailed backward into his body when frightened.

It wasn’t because he hadn’t felt the need to though. Not at all. In fact, he’d fought and resisted the temptation of slipping his hand into his jeans, fisting the aching hard on he sported just by the mere sight of Y/n. Or to grab the girl, nudge her into a random haunted room, and to slam his cock into her the second he tugged the denim shorts down her thighs.

Then there was her.

Matt was simply content with mind-fucking the girl, taunting and teasing her throughout the sinister night. Her every tantalizing move alluring him further, making his eyes gleam with a darkness that begged to be released with a quick fuck.

And because it was an escape, a distraction, she didn’t mind. “Gonna’ cum.” Y/n gasped out, feeling his lips pepper wet pecks all around her beating heat, groaning as he placed a final one directly over her dripping core.

The girls hips moved against his working lips as she felt the ball in her abdomen begin to unravel, eyes fluttering shut as her mouth opened in a silent moan. Matt’s eyes slid up to her as she came, lips quirking up as he watched her shatter in his hands.

Back arching as she pushed her dripping pussy closer to his lips as he lapped up her release, the familiar taste touching his tongue with an addictive undertone. He couldn’t get enough, fighting the urge of his eyes rolling back as his hands roamed every inch of her soft skin.

Y/n whimpered softly, watching the magnifying boy place two last kisses on the inside of either thigh’s. “sorry.” She whispered, making Matt’s eyebrows raise with surprise. “Sorry? Sorry for what, baby?” He laughed a bit, running the back of his hand across his damp lips.

Her cheeks burned with embarrassment, turning her head away. “I don’t even know- it’s just embarrassing.” Matt scoffed, dragging her underwear and shorts up her thighs while raising from his haunches.

“Nothing you could ever say or do, would be ‘embarrassing’.” He said firmly, pulling her shorts over her supple ass. “always’ my perfect girl.” He murmured, pressing his index and middle finger into her cheek, tilting her hed his way again.

The girl blushed, nipping at her bottom lip as she shifted foot to foot. “Do you want me to..” she trailed off, nodding toward the tent in his pants. Matt rolled his eyes, running the hand down her hair as he pulled her closer. “So bad it fuckin’ aches for you.” He grunted.

She immediately reached down to tug at the button, her hand being caught by a larger one. “hey,” Matt chuckled, making her flick her gaze up to his. “I thought-” She squealed, taken aback as his lips pressed onto hers.

The hand atop her soft hair drifted down to cup the side of her neck, Matthew’s thumb rubbing back and forth across her steadily beating pulse. “but,” He whispered. “I would much rather have this little mouth,” He muttered in between kisses. “on my cock after I’ve gotten you all warm. Bathed, fed, and in some comfortable clothes.” he chuckled, his other thumb running along the underside of her bottom lip.

There noses brushed each others even after they pulled away, Matt looking to be pondering as he looked off. “Hm..” She rose a brow, a grin spreading cross her raw lips. “Preferably something of mine.” He said, flicking his gaze back to hers.

Y/n’s eyebrows rose, tilting her head aside as he smiled up at her boyfriend. “Yours, huh?” She mused, her grin growing at his firm nod. “What about that white fresh love-” She yelped as a hand collided with the skin of her thigh, winching as he rubbed over the now pink skin.

“Always a brat.” He murmured, a smirk growing on his lips as he watched her thighs squeeze together at the action. Little masochist. “Maybe the bath and change of clothes can wait..” Her eyes lit up, opening her mouth to retort brattily.

Bang!

“Holy fuck!” Y/n cried, gripping onto her boyfriend’s arm as a ringing noise echoed through the void room. Matt went still, but managed to breathily laugh while patting the girls head. “Kid- you’re fine-” He attempted to assure, but flinched and cursed himself when he heard glass shatter. “Jesus.” He muttered, eyes wide as he snapped his head behind him.

The door flew open, the silhouette of four men standing in the door way. “I’m dead- I’m dying tonight-” she rambled, shaking her head rapidly as she gripped onto Matt’s muscular forearm. Matt laughed through the fright, faltering from his stance above her. “No you’re not, doll.” He chuckled.

“Ouch!”

Matt winced, pulling his forearm away from the girl. “You pinched me.” He sounded betrayed, cradling his tattooed arm to his chest as he looked down at his fearful girlfriend.

“It’s because I love you.” She whined, a small cry at the end of her sentence as she heard a door creak. “And I’m sorry I never got to go down-”

“Boo!”

The couple screamed, Y/n throwing herself into Matt’s arms. Sam and Colby stood side by side, the blonde grinning ear to ear as he held up the medium sized camera. He looked enthralled, whereas the two looked petrified. “How’d it go?!” Nick, who stood not behind joyed.

Y/n’s shoulders fell seeing the friend she knew and trusted, but ran a hand down her face as it fell back on the wall. “Oh my god.” Matt threw his brothers a glare, hands trembling ever so slightly. “You scared the shit out of me, guys.” Y/n laughed.

Sam and Colby brought the camera a little closer, the couple squinting from the light. “How was it? Hear anything ghostly.” Colby mused, laughing a bit.

Matt and Y/n looked at each other, eyes wide. “Uh..” The girl snapped her head in the direction of the friends, rushing to find some kind of excuse- or lie. “Glass!” She exclaimed, making the group of four all look toward each other in confusion.

Matt felt himself confused as well. “Ow!” Y/n sent him a warning glance, slapping his shoulder. “Oh fuck- yeah, that.” Matt looked back at Colby. “Glass.. broke?” He said, looking back at his girlfriend for reassurance. She nodded in alliance. “Yep. Loud.” Matt nodded along.

Suddenly the couples current position registered to each other, as well as their friends. “So..” Y/n mumbled, lips drawing into a line as she slid down the wall and out from her boyfriend’s body. “Yep, it was very spooky.” Patting his chest once, Matt looked down at his girlfriend with a toothy smile.

God she was cute.

Nick made an expression of realization, face scrunching up as he faux gagged. “Geez, guys.” He groaned, rolling his eyes as he saw the discarded headsets and blindfolds. “That was me.” Matt and Y/n looked at each other, before looking back at the eldest triplet.

“.. I tripped over a lantern, okay?!” He confessed, a blush spreading across his cheeks from both embarrassed and having been exposed to whatever rendezvous his brother and girlfriend were having. “And I heard screaming, that definitely wasn’t out of fear- longgg before I did that-” He attempted to deflect.

Chris immediately cut him off. “Nick-nick. Shut the fuck up.” He hissed, nudging his side.

“Okay!” Sam interrupted, cheeks slightly red as he looked around at the group. “We’ve been filming for over two hours, which is more than enough. Anyone wanna’ catch dinner?” He put his hands together, grinning sheepishly.

Me and Matt stayed silent, Chris’s and Nick’s hands flying up simultaneously. “Me.” They both say, voice overlapping each others.

“Great!” Sam exclaimed, sending a quick smile our way.

As the group dispersed the room, Matt slowly let his head fall against Y/n’s chest, letting out a small whine. “Holy shit.” His voice came out muffled, lips mushed against her goosebump-ridden chest.

She patted his head a few times. “I know. I know.” Oh god, did she know.

୨ৎ 𝒯𝒶𝑔𝓈 －

@tvdelrey @luverboychris

[befemininenow]

Very late Mother's Day post, but it's better late than never. This is more or less relating to the events that trans girls/women go through depending on the circumstance. No matter what they go through, they all have at least a supportive maternal figure they can rely to. On one of them, they are even a maternal figure themselves. I wrote a small story based on using these illustrations, each with their different scenario. All of them include a supporting mother. To those mothers who support their trans children, old or young, you are all amazing! To all of you, I hope your Mother’s Day was amazing. Hugs to all of you!

Captions are made by me. Pictures belong to Themirrorsotherside of DeviantArt. AI art created through DreamAI.

Based on the order of the pics:

Pic 1 shows a young Japanese trans girl trying out her grandmother’s old sailor fuku after she comes out to her. Being the only mother figure for the girl, grandma supports her journey and will do anything to see her now granddaughter smile.

Pic 2 shows a South Asian (probably Indian) trans girl wearing her mother’s old wedding dress and admiring their reflection. The mother may not understand at first, but she will do anything to make her child happy. Pic 3 shows the same girl (now an adult) years after her transition, ready to marry her groom. The mother is very proud of her trans daughter for becoming the woman she was meant to be.

Pic 4 is about a trans woman wanting to see her kids after her ex-wife divorced her and prohibited her from seeing her kids, despite being legally allowed to see them and paying support. On the other hand, her ex mother-in-law, who has been supportive of her transition and is against her daughter‘s bigoted views, hatches an idea. Pic 5 shows the ex mother-in-law on the right being excited of her daughter-in-law’s successful makeover. The plan is to disguise as her ex-wife’s lost “cousin” who is paying a visit to see her “aunt”. She does this as a way to challenge her daughter’s views and for her grandchildren, who have been eager to see their other parent for years, to reunite with them.

Pic 6 shows a young teen seeing a girl in their mirror after months of dealing with gender dysphoria. They’re afraid that their mother won’t accept them for being transgender. Pic 7 is the young teen, who has come out to her mother, admiring her reflection after her mother gives them a makeover. The young trans girl tears up after seeing their reflection match her inner identity, as well as receiving the maternal love and support she desired.

Pic 8 is about a trans mother and daughter being happy together. Despite them having troubled times due to a rocky transition, her daughter loves her parent and accepts her as her new mom due to her only mother figure abandoning them after she cheats on her then-husband.

Extra pic 9: Some grow up wishing to be like their role models while others may wish to be like their mother. Princess Ariel knows what it’s like to not be born human, so it’s no surprise she’s your role model. However, how would things turn out if she was your mother?

Extra pic 10: Turns out, both of you are similar. Ariel knows what it’s like to be born in the wrong body and has made it possible for you to live in the right one as well. Nothing is as beautiful as seeing you smile the brightest since forever.

[dragonrider9905]

Infectious Love

Summery: After a failed, almost confession of love, you and Hunter's relationship is skating on thin ice...that is, until someone falls through (or gets stabbed in the gut), so to speak.

Warnings: Angst, lots of it, but comfort too. Lots of emotions. Mentions of blood and sickness.

Hellooooooooo @imaginesfordifferentfandoms tis I, your Secret Santa in the @cloneficgiftexchange!!!!! I really, really, hope you like it. I worked really hard on it ;D So I hope it turned out the way I imagined it in my head ;D Enjoy this kinda longish drabble XD Hehehehe now you understand all the questions I asked. I hope you don't mind I went with Hunter. You seemed to not mind any of them; he's my favorite so I know I can get carried away :D and I wanted to make sure the story was nice! Also, I gave Hunter's scarf a destiny. A fate. A sense of purpose. We now know what happened to it. I have spoken.

Furthermore, I'd like to throw a huge shout out to some people who deserve it. Firstly, @ghostofskywalker. Thank you so much for organizing this event and all the other ones like it. They are always so much fun and I enjoy them immensely. It is safe to say the others who join feel the same way. Thank you for all the hard work you put into it all! Also, thank you to @photogirl894 for being an awesome beta reader and supportive friend. I don't know if I would have finished this fic on time if she hadn't helped me through all the rough spots by her encouraging words. Bestie, you read everything but the ending...I hope you like it <3

The decree is written, now, let the story unfold.

“As a father, you couldn’t ask for a better place to raise a child.”

You’d heard Shep say these words to Hunter your first day on Pabu, and you had to admit, it made your heart flutter a little bit. You’d fallen hard for Hunter a long time ago but duty always got in the way. At first, you hadn’t realized just how much you cared for him during the Clone War, serving as their medic, until Hunter received a shot in the chest. It was then that you realized, or rather were honest with yourself, that your friendship was always more than just a friendship. Almost losing him gave you a clarity and an honesty with yourself that you needed, but that didn’t make things easy. In fact, they made them harder.

Because now you knew how YOU felt, but you had NO IDEA how he felt. Every day, you’d face a new challenge, a new battle, overcome insurmountable odds against the Separatists on top secret missions and won. Every night, you’d have a heart to heart with Hunter, talking about things that made him laugh, made you laugh, things that made you cry, or things that upset him. 

But never unburying that heavy secret locked away in your heart. 

You considered yourself brave in many aspects but not when it came to problems with the heart. You could tell Hunter anything and everything, except how you felt about him. Instead, you’d find little things every day to show him you loved him. You’d fix his caf the way he liked it, you’d make sure the others were considerate of his sense, you listened to him when he wanted to rant, you showed him you trusted him. You were his shoulder to lean on, his unofficial right hand man. Technically, Crosshair filled those shoes but not always. You tried to be the head of reason when the boys fought and patched them up when they were done arguing. 

Then the Clone War ended with fateful Order 66. Your world turned upside down and even though circumstances were different, your situation was the same. 

That secret would have to be pried out of your cold dead hands. 

You’d been on the run, constantly in fear for your lives and that of the child in your care. You’d started to love her as your own daughter, and you could see Hunter did too. You’d seen Hunter with Cut and Suu’s children before, but somehow, this was different. He’d cared for her as a father would. And that made your heart melt more than you ever thought it could. 

Now, here on Pabu, having something that resembled peace and a chance at a life, was it time? Could you actually have the dream you despaired of. The dream which was a nightly comfort but in the morning seemed unreachable as something you thought you couldn’t hope for? 

Shep’s words teased you. Taunted you. Pried at you. 

Perhaps, perhaps it was time to open your heart? 

“So have you reconsidered staying?”

“For soldiers, putting down roots is an occupational hazard.” 

“Is that all you are? Soldiers?”

You’d seen the thoughtful look on Hunter’s face. It was the one he made when he was considering something. There was no contention, just thoughtful pondering. 

Somehow, some way, that moment spurred you and you worked up the courage. 

Hunter sat in the cockpit, swirling his knife. You approached and leaned against the door. You’d love to sit there and watch that for hours. You smiled a little to yourself, waiting for him to recognize your presence so as to not scare him into a mistake (not that he’d ever but…better be safe than sorry.) 

“Echo said he’s on his way. Will be here in a few rotations.” he said without looking up. “Omega will be glad to see him.”

“Yeah, she misses him, the poor kid.”

Sheaving his knife, he turned to you. 

“So, what can I help you with?”

“Oh, you know, just checking in on my Sargeant. You’ve been in here all day.” You placed some fruit native to Pabu in front of him. You never could remember the name, but you’d noticed he liked them. 

“Thanks,” he gave half a smile while you took the seat next to him. “What kind of trouble are Wrecker and Omega getting into?”

“Ohhhh probably best not to know right now. Just enjoy the few moments of peace while you can.”

He chuckled and cut into the fruit.

“Soooooo” your heart pounded. You were actually going to do it. You got this…just had to breathe and remain steady, it’d be ok. 

Hunter gave you a side eye, silently offering you a piece of the fruit. Kriff, he can tell. You tried to slow your heart best you could. 

“So.” He prompted you.

You laughed. “I heard Shep the other day. Something about settling down…ever think about it?”

He sighed. “More than you know. I honestly don’t know what to do about it. I’d like to but… It’s … complicated.”

“Ever think about marrying a pretty woman and having a family? Raising Omega somewhere safe where she’d be happy…”

He huffed a little. 

“Who’d I marry? Please don’t suggest the woman Wrecker’s friend was trying to set me up with.” 

At the words, the muscles in your face felt heavy and turned sour. The twinkle in your eye went out and the joy in your demeanor dissolved. 

An empty smile remained on your face. No indication to the outsider that anything had changed. But Hunter wasn’t an outsider. He knew you inside and out. 

Who’d I marry? You weren’t even a consideration. You weren’t on the list. Of course you wouldn’t be. It’d be foolish for you to think that. Why’d you hope in the first place? You should have known better. 

Swallowing hard, you bit back tears and forced a laugh. 

You had Hunter’s full attention now. He sat up straight and leaned forward a bit. 

He immediately sensed the change of demeanor. Your heart rate plummeted but beat hard. Your focus was gone, staring into nothing. Even if it was just for a millisecond, he’d have noticed it, but it lasted longer than that. 

Your hollow laugh filled the cabin.   

He knew he messed up.

Hunter moved to speak again but it was too late. You’d gotten up and moved toward the door. 

“Well um, I should go check on Omega and Wrecker and see what they’re up to before they do too much damage. Yeah, yeah…”

The next moment you were out of the cabin and down the ramp without a second look behind you. 

Kriff. He had to fix this. 

He almost went after you. He almost made it out the ship, but an incoming transmission stopped him. This could be the one he was waiting for. He looked longingly out to where he saw you hugging yourself, making your way slowly across the shipyard, and went back inside the ship. 

Kark it all. This’d better be important, Echo.

Tech was gone. Omega was taken. Crosshair a prisoner. Echo abandoned them, again. It was just you, Wrecker and Hunter now. A ship once filled to bursting with life and light, warm with the love and laughter shared between its walls, was now cold with an emptiness, a magnanimous devoid maw that the ship had never known before. 

Tech was dead. Crosshair was gone. Omega was taken. 

He was lost. 

Hunter might as well have added you to the list of lost as well, because even though you were physically on the ship, you weren’t with him. You were distant. Gone. In every way possible other than physical. You’d done your best to keep Wrecker and himself together. You’d been the same insurmountable strength you’d always been for them to lean on. You were being the strong one for them because you knew they couldn’t right now. He was angry, frustrated, focused and lost all in one but didn’t know where to direct that energy. As always, you came through. You acted the same as how you did throughout the entire Clone War, except not. The actions were all there, but there was a lost life to it. 

A lost love. 

And it was his fault. 

Though you were strong, you weren’t invincible. 

During the day you’d serve them. Got them food, made sure they rested, used every resource imaginable to find the little lost loved one. You tried to make them laugh and smile if you could or focus on the task at hand. Completing small missions to get by was his bane, because all Hunter wanted to do was find Omega, but you brought him back to the present, reeled in his reckless side when it got to be too much. You kept track of the inventory and how and when to push on. 

But every night he’d hear you silently cry yourself to sleep. 

You’d go and comfort Wrecker, then you’d offer the best gesture you could to him to encourage him, then you’d retire to your bed, broken down by the day. Tired, exhausted, empty. 

He saw it. And he caused it. 

And he hated himself for it. 

He’d lost you in a hasty, foolish sentence. One he’d said without much forethought. One he said because he was afraid if he’d said too much, or given any indication of the deeper feelings he had for you, you’d have rejected him and he’d lose you entirely. He thought he could be your friend. You deserved so much more. So much more than himself and what he could offer. He’d wanted to stay your friend so that way, even though he couldn’t have you, you’d be happy. He’d make sure that whoever he was, the man you’d marry would give you all the love he couldn’t. 

Turns out he was wrong.  

You did return his feelings and he broke you.

He should have gone after you, but he didn’t. He thought he’d have time. He thought he could do it when you’d return to the ship and he could sit down with you uninterrupted but he was wrong, so wrong. Echo arrived and in moments, though he didn’t know it, his life turned upside down. When the mission was declared, his focus turned to that. 

He should have talked to you. He should have let you know how he felt. 

But the manner of your hurt shifted. You were no longer hurt, but cold. 

Perhaps you didn’t want him to love you anymore. He didn’t know what to do. So much was wrong. So much that shouldn’t have been, was now his reality. 

In truth, you DID deserve more than him. Perhaps this was for the best. This hurt would pass and you’d meet the one you were supposed to be with. You could get over this fancy for him and live an actual life with someone else. 

The thought made his stomach churn and threatened to vomit, but perhaps, that’s what was meant to be. 

After all, sometimes to love someone you had to let them go. And Omega, she needed him right now, fully focused on nothing else but finding her. 

It was late in the night watch, Hunter sat alone staring at the broken pair of goggles and a plush toy that belonged to the child of the ship. His child, not by blood but by choice. 

Taken from him in a cruel twist of fate. 

He closed his eyes and leaned back in the chair. Hunter wasn’t normally one for crying but he felt close to it now. He didn’t know what to do, but he knew Omega took priority over himself. He HAD to find her. Bring her home. Oh Force, what was Hemlock doing to her?

He felt his head start to pound and his brow furrowed. 

It hurt so much to love. This was love, wasn’t it? After all, what would he know? All he knew of it was what was in the novels and holofilms…

Something cold touched his head and he jumped in surprise. Opening his eyes, he found you had taken a few steps back surprised, with a blanket and an ice pack in hand. 

It didn’t go unnoticed you’d had the scent of fresh tears on your hands. 

“I’m sorry, I thought you were in one of your uncomfortable sleep cycles.” You offered gently. “You looked like you had a headache so I brought you this.” You shook the ice pack. 

Hunter sat up and rubbed his head. “I…can’t sleep.”

He looked down. It was so hard to keep your gaze. His throat tightened and tears sprung against his will. All he could do was sigh, long and heavy. 

Hunter was silent, not knowing what to say. He tried opening his mouth a few times but closed it at every attempt, frustrated. 

You slowly drew near him, considerate as you always were. Giving him a chance to stop you if he wanted or needed, but he didn’t. You crouched down in front of him and took his hands. 

A shock of surprise sprung his head up immediately and sent a shiver through his body. His brain registered your hands were cold and instinctively he moved to warm them, covering them completely with his own. But his mind was fully focused on your face. 

Your eyes glittered with unshed tears and your mouth had a half, crooked smile. A ghost of the one you’d had before. But there was something in your gaze he’d missed, he’d longed for. 

It was ‘that’ look. 

You hadn't looked at him like that in a long time. 

There was a warmth and a love aflame. A gentleness that hadn’t been there these long past few weeks.  

If eyes were truly the window to the soul, he’d seen that the embers were dying, but not gone. 

You squeezed his hand. 

“We’ll find her. I promise.” 

There was such a conviction in your voice, determination. A rawness that almost freighted him. A testament to the power you had. The power of your will and spirit. The power of your determination. One of the reasons he loved you so much. One of the elements in your looks that he yearned to see again after missing it for so long. 

He squeezed your hands. 

“Thank you for everything.” He swallowed hard, voice now scratchy and sore. 

You nodded and stood, pulling your hands from his. You placed the pack on his forehead and placed the blanket on him in two swift motions and made to go. You were fast, but not too fast for him. You’d tried to retreat, but Hunter jumped and grabbed your arms, centering you to himself. 

A surprised look crossed your face and he saw you searching him, wondering. 

“We need to talk.”

You looked away, tears starting to gather again, a breath catching in your throat wanting to break free. 

Hunter cupped your face with his hand and slowly, softly turned your gaze back to him. 

“Please.”

You nodded, but then looked away again. 

“Ok, but not now.” Your voice was heavy and empty. That void look entered your eyes, extinguishing the flame that was there before. 

“No, you should get some sleep, you look exhausted. You’re always looking after us. Tonight, take care of yourself, yeah?” He rubbed his thumb against your cheek, whipping away a tear that escaped. “Tomorrow.”

You nodded. “Tomorrow.”  

Lifting the blanket you’d brought for him, Hunter placed it over your shoulders with a reassuring squeeze then turned back to his chair, cradling the ice pack to his forehead. 

Tomorrow came, but started off all wrong. Emergency lights flashed and sirens blared. The Marauder made an emergency landing on the treacherous mountainous planet below. The hyperdrive malfunctioned and threw you out of hyperspace. It was a tumultuous, uncontrolled landing but Hunter managed with minimal damage to the exterior of the ship. The haul was a little banged up, but other than that, the smoking hyperdrive was the focus of your concern.

There was no Tech to fix the ship now. You were on your own.

“Do you think you can fix it?” Hunter looked at you worriedly. You’d helped Tech plenty of times in the past. You considered yourself pretty capable with all the training you received from him. 

Taking a look around, you carefully considered. 

“I think so, but it’s going to take time. This superficial stuff I’m not too worried about. We’ll have to make port somewhere soon anyway for supplies. We’re low on everything.” You’d been looking at the inventory the last few days and the lists were concerning. “I think we have enough credits to get by until we can do a job and earn more.” You rubbed your forehead. “I’ve been running numbers on how to keep ourselves sustained without needing to distract ourselves from our mission with a whole bunch of side missions anymore. I think it’ll work but you’re going to have to trust me. But I digress. I’ll patch up the hyperdrive which seems to be the main problem. I’ve got a weird feeling about this place, I don’t want to be here too long. Weather might not hold out for extensive repairs either.”

“Alright, we’ll discuss this when I get back. I’ll scout the area and see what we’re dealing with.” Hunter turned to leave, then paused. Half looking back he spoke: “And, I do. Trust you, I mean.” 

With that he put his helmet on and shouted to Wrecker. 

“Keep her safe. I’ll be right back.”

It’d been an hour. And Hunter wasn’t back. 

Whipping the sweat from your forehead you heaved a big breath.

“I think that’ll do it Wreck. Where’s Hunt?” 

Wrecker looked nervous. “Not back yet.” 

You looked at your wrist chrono and raised your eyebrows in surprise. Highly unusual.

“Ok, I’ll go look for him. Protect the ship.” 

“We should stay together.” Wrecker added quickly, “I’ll come with you.”

“I would like that too but at this moment that’s a luxury we can’t afford. We have to split up.”

Wrecker groaned. “Bad things ALWAYS happen when we split up.”

You softened and patted his shoulder comfortingly. 

“I know, big guy, I know. But the less we argue, the sooner we get Hunt back.”

Wrecker paused and nodded. “Ok.” He sighed and took his place by the ramp of the ship. “And…..it’s good to hear you call Hunter, Hunt again…”he trailed off uncertainly, “but it’s kinda making me scared. You think he’s….?” 

Your heart clenched in realization. You didn’t think how your hurt would shed and affect others. “Oh Wrecker….” You started but he stopped you. 

“Aw Doc, I am just worried about ya. You two always meshed together, you know? So when you didn’t, and now get soft again…” He shook his head. “Get Hunter back, and everything will be ok, yeah?”

“Yeah, it will. I promise.” You started off your sentence quaking but with every word you found your conviction. It was time to go. 

“I hope you two can work things out. I always liked it that way, ya know?”

You smiled, “Yeah I do actually, and I did too.”

“Well, do you think that … whatever happened…you two can fix it?”

Your smile faltered a little bit but Wrecker didn’t see that. Really, only Hunter would have been the one to notice.

“I’ll do my best.”

With one last nod to Wrecker, you set out.

You weren’t exceptional at tracking but Hunter taught you a thing or two. 

It was time to bring Hunter home.

Hunter skirted the edge of the cliff carefully. His foot set a few loose rocks tumbling into the unknown. Knife unsheathed and corned against the endless void beneath him, he glared at his enemy. Hunter met these villains almost as soon as he left the ship. It didn’t take him long to realize their harmful intentions and led them away from the ship, hoping to buy you as much time as he could to fix the ship. He’d taken out ten of these bandits already, but this one was of a higher status, he could tell by the large hat he wore and more expensive weapons he possessed. He’d be more of a challenge but that would only make it more fun. 

Hunter growled and lifted his knife in the ready. Blood and sweat dripped from his face from the few scratches and scrapes he had. 

He was prepared for anything.

“Get away from him!” An agonized voice filled with terror screamed. 

Your voice. 

Hunter’s heart dropped to his stomach and for the first time since the crash, terror entered his veins. He was prepared for everything, except that.

Garnishing your blade, you swiped the air to show the mysterious stranger you were serious. “Leave him alone!”

Hunter’s throat closed up. You didn’t have your blaster, and while still decent with the blade, you weren’t ready for this yet. He hadn’t finished your training. 

“Meshla, no!” 

Hunter reached out, distracted only for a moment but a moment is all it took. In the second he tried to get in between you and the enemy, a kick to his stomach sent Hunter over the side

“Hunter!” You screamed after him in terror. 

What you didn’t see was the flip he made or how he grappled onto the rock. If only you had the enhanced senses he did, you might have heard his hard breathing, the uneven sob, and the continuous prayer that somehow you could live long enough for him to get to you. 

His heart pounded. He wanted to call for you but that’d only make things worse for you. He grunted as silently as he could. He had to get to you. 

He heard your angry grunts, the slices of knives through the air, missing their marks. He heard you yelling unintelligibly and savagely. The man’s gleeful laughter. 

Your painful cry.

No

Those were some of the longest seconds of his life. What happened? He tried to climb faster but the rock was so slippery.

Watching Hunter get shot. Finding him shot again in the same place all this time later by Cad Bane, and now seeing Hunter tumble over the edge was more than you could handle. Anger like you’d never felt it bubbling all over you, tingling your fingers and guiding your blade’s every movement with hardened focus.

No, you couldn’t lose him like this. You wouldn’t. The man was quick, practiced. But you’d had a good teacher. Now wasn’t the time to doubt. Sure, you wished your blaster had survived the raid on Ord Mantel but there was nothing you could do about that except replace it when you made port.

You tumbled, dived, parried. This demon wouldn’t win. He made a hit on your arm and you cried out. The evil, smug smile he had was enough to refocus you instantly. Jumping for him unexpectedly, you caught him by surprise. You pushed your entire body against his in a close roll.

And your blade found a home in his heart. 

Breathing hard, it took you a moment to realize…you’d won. You defeated him! Hunter would be so proud.

Hunter!

Diving for the cliff, you slid toward the edge. 

“Hunter? Hunter!”

Hunter looked up at you, face hidden behind his visor but all the emotions were spilling from his mouth. “Are you ok? Mesh’la, what the karking hells?”

“Grab my hand!” Ignoring him, you reached down. “I’ll pull you up.” 

Hunter clasped your hand but you let out a cry of agony. Collapsing in a heaping pile. You were shaking but your grip held firm.

“Mesh’la…” 

“Don’t you dare let go. Don’t you dare.” Your demand was dry and forceful, but fear spilled from every word. “Please.” Your plea was soft, broken.

“Alright.” He tightened his grip.

Tears streamed down your face as you panted, hulling him up. Hunter seemed so heavy. You’d done exercises like this before and it was a lot easier. Hunter seemed to notice your lack of strength too.

You pulled and heaved and scooted and rolled until you managed to get his body over the lump. Immediately, Hunter started his barrage on you in between heaving breaths of his own.

“What were you thinking? Don’t you know you could have gotten yourself killed?”

You got to your feet and brushed yourself off, head dizzy with emotion and adrenaline.

“Do you,” you panted, “have any idea what you did to me? Don’t start with me…”

“Oh honey, just wait until I get started—“ 

You turned to look at Hunter who also had gotten to his feet, the words registering, but sounding quite distant. Was he yelling? You weren't sure. Suddenly, your breath was knocked from your lungs and a sharp pain invaded your entire body. 

Falling to your knees, you clutched your side to find it wet and sticky, and warm. You didn't need to pull your hand away to look at it to know there was blood, yet that's what you did, and you were shocked nevertheless to find the red, sticky substance on your hands. Gasping with wide eyes, you missed Hunter’s cry of alarm.  

“You’re bleeding!”

Hunter ran over to you and caught you as you crumpled to the ground in pain. Gathering you to himself, he rested your body against his.

Tearing off his scarf from around his neck, Hunter pressed it to your wound.

“You’re losing so much blood.”

“Nah, I know exactly where it is. Here, there, and a little over there.”

“Not funny.”

“I thought it was.” you faintly chuckled. 

With a dark look, he cut the red fabric into strips and bound your abdomen tightly. 

“I’ll get you back to the ship as soon as I can, just hold on for me ok?” 

You nodded but your eyes now felt so heavy. You just wanted to sleep. 

Scooping you up, Hunter started at a full run. 

The bouncing hurt. Every pounding bounce sent fire mixed with ice through your body. Your head rolled back and your eyes shut.

“Hey, hey, cyare, look at me. Look at me! Don’t give up on me yet, please.” 

Hunter came in running. 

“Wrecker! Wrecker! Get the ship started, we’re leaving NOW!”

Wrecker didn’t miss a beat. He saw you dangling limpless in Hunter’s arms and dashed up the walkway. Wrecker tore through the room, doing the start up sequences as fast as he could then meeting Hunter in the gangway, he threw the med kit at him. 

Back in the cockpit, Wrecker took the controls. 

Placing you in his bed, Hunter slapped your face.

“I know you’re in there, wake up! Wake up! Don’t leave me now, I need you. I can’t do this without you. Omega is depending on you. You’re stronger than this, come on!”

Injecting you quickly with a stim and re-wrapping your wounds, Hunter frantically chaffed your wrists until your eyes fluttered open. 

“Hunter?” You were looking around, trying to sit up. 

“Hey, hey don’t get up.” He placed a hand on your forehead, then your pulse points. He felt you slowly but surely starting to equalize. “Just rest for a bit, ok? I’m going to stay right here if you need anything.” He pulled up a chair next to you. 

“I’m ok,” you smiled weakly, “I was so scared when I saw those tracks. I thought I’d lost you again. But you’re ok, and that’s all that matters to me.” You squeezed his hand, then let the darkness take you.

All was still and dark. The Marauder gently rocked in what would pass for the early hours of the morning, if there really could be a morning or night in space. 

All was still and quiet inside the Marauder. Wrecker was by the controls watching the ship’s course and motion beacons, Hunter was fast asleep, leaned over the bed and holding your hand. 

You on the other hand were restless. Buckets of sweat fell from your forehead. Dizzy and disoriented, even laying down, a nauseous feeling crept up your stomach into your throat. 

You wormed your hand out of Hunters, not wanting to wake him. It’d been too long since he’d gotten any sleep at all and at last the complete and utter exhaustion took him over. You pushed on the bed, attempting and failing to drag yourself up. 

You glanced at Hunter, considering only for a moment, then resurfaced your determination. No, you’d let him rest. You could do this. Grasping the blanket’s cocooning you, you attempted to untangle the heavy sheet entwining you. It was so heavy, suffocating. 

With a heaving breath, you pushed your feet off the bed and lunged your body forward.

You were standing. 

But as soon as you got up, you realized your mistake. The ship spun and the dull aches over your body were awakened. Your stomach’s pain blew its trumpet and your ears felt like balloons that were going to pop. You must have swallowed marbles because there was barely any room in your throat. 

Oh well, you could only push forward. 

Stumbling into the bathroom, you turned on the cold water. Perhaps that would help. 

The first thing Hunter noticed was his hand was cold and clammy. The lack of warmth left a devoid and empty feeling embedded with a nervous foreboding. 

Next came the darkness, which became a haze, and that haze turned into a bubble as he fought he was to consciousness. The bed in front of him was empty and Hunter could vaguely make out the things around him, noises indecipherable. He thought he heard trudging of feet scraping against the floor, the turning of a facet with the gush of water, then a loud crash, and thud with a BAM!

Instantly his body was alert. Dashing toward the source of the sound, he knew subconsciously what he’d find. Your body on the floor, sprawled out and drained. Your face was pale as death, eyes hollow. You didn’t look like this a few hours ago? 

“Mesh’la? mesh’la! what happened? Did you hit your head? Why are you up?” A thousand questions spilled from his mouth in worry. 

Worming his body behind yours, he gathered you up gently. You mumbled something that was lost even to his hearing. 

Concerned, Hunter removed his gloves, and placed them on your face. 

You leaned into his warmth, shivering, unable to get warm, yet your skin felt like fire to him. You were burning. Beads of sweat danced on your forehead as large as the tears that fell from your eyes.

“Why didn’t you wake me?” Cradling you now, he carefully wrapped himself around your body. This allowed you to curl in on yourself and tuck yourself in further to his chest.

“‘M sry.”

Kriff, you could barely speak. 

“Don’t be sorry. I got you now.”

“Hunter, I-I can’t hear you too well.”

A wall of realization hit him hard. Kark it, he knew what happened. 

The fever, the swelling, the loss of balance and your voice, not to mention your hearing? 

You had an infection. 

Fear invaded Hunter’s senses. He’d never been sick like this, having super immune genetics (one thing to thank the long necks for he supposed). But now, how could he help if he didn’t know what you were going through exactly? 

This wasn’t the first time you were sick like this. He remembered the story you told of your childhood, and how one winter, you fell through the ice which resulted in something like this. The incident left you vulnerable and weakened, and he worried about you. 

You were tough and fought it out. But what if you couldn’t fight this one off? Would your second brush with death be enough to claim you?

Tears swelled your eyes and poured onto your cheeks. Small sobs started to wrack your body as emotion overtook you.

“I…sorry…don’t burnden…’Mega, gotta find…” 

“Hey, hey, it’s ok, I got you, I got you. You’re not a burden. We’ll get you better then we’ll find her. Hey, I got you, it’s ok.” Hunter had no idea how he managed to sound so calm. He’d never seen you like this before and it terrified him. Your small sniffles and hiccups reminded him of a small child. Every nerve and essence of his being screamed at him to protect you. 

“I’ll get you some water, I’ll be back. You have to stay hydrated.”

“Stay, I’ll get it.”

Hunter looked up to find Wrecker looking down at the two of you with a sad look in his eyes. “You should be with her.” He disappeared then returned a few minutes later with a full flask of cold water. 

Hunter brought it to your lips, but you barely swallowed any before relinquishing your strength to an empty sleep, exhausted by the struggle. 

Silence bore down on the three of you as Hunter and Wrecker looked on while you slept an uncomfortable sleep.

“I knew we should have stuck together.” Wrecker said sadly at last, not looking at Hunter. “I told her I’d come with her…”

“It’s not your fault, Wreck.”

“Bad things happen when we split up, I told her that….”

“This is all my fault.” Hunter hung his head. “I—”

“That kind of talk isn’t going to help her, Hunt. Don’t even think that. She made up her own mind. She was scared for ya, Hunt. She even started calling you ‘Hunt’ again.”

Hunter looked up surprised, then back down towards you. You’d stopped that since that morning on Pabu. You’d been formal with him afterward. It was either Sargeant or Hunter. 

He shifted then lifted you in his arms, bringing you back to the bed. He set you down then ran his fingers through your damp hair, worry evident in his eyes. 

“We need to get her to a hospital, Wreck. I don’t know what to do…Without Tech…I’m really scared right now.”

Wrecker placed a large, comforting hand on Hunter’s shoulder. “Then we go. We’ll get her better, Hunt. Don’t worry. I think we have a few of those fake IDs left Tech made. We’ll make something work.”

Swallowing hard, Hunter nodded.

Instead of letting go, Wrecker’s grip tightened. In one swift motion, Hunter was enveloped in a hug. If he was being honest, he didn’t mind in the least. 

Hunter sat by you in silence as the ship flew through hyperspace toward the hospital, watching your fitful sleep. Your forehead was creased in pain and your mouth turned into a pout. One hand carefully stroked your sweat soaked hair, the other intertwined with yours.

The waiting was the worst part. Not being able to do anything to help or accept, fate could only take its course and he could only stand by and watch. The worst enemies were the ones he couldn’t protect you from and he hated that. He couldn’t fight the infection with his blade, or take away your pain by shooting the cause with a blaster bolt. 

He leaned his forehead against yours and swallowed a sigh. Was this agony what you'd felt when he'd been shot? He remembered what delicate care you took of him. You'd been more than thoughtful, and tried not to show your concerns but he saw them anyway; just as he could always see you. But there was something else there that at the time he hadn't realized. And now he hoped he hadn't realized it too late. 

“You asked me before if I’d settle down like Shep asked……………and in my dreams, yes. I always wanted to, even before he asked, with you. It was you, it was always and only you.”

Silence was your response. 

 “Please, don’t leave me now. I already lost the others, I can’t lose you too.”

The steady rhythm of your heart was promise enough for him right now, he had to hold onto hope. 

“We can take it slow. Take our time. We don’t have to rush into anything but please, please stay with me and I’ll be yours for the rest of our lives. That’s my promise to you. I–I love you. Always have, always will.”

Perhaps if he’d hadn’t been so tired, he would have noticed the slight squeeze of his hand you have him. 

Hunter walked into the hospital carrying you wearing civilian clothing hoping he looked more inconspicuous than he felt. He approached the nurse at the front desk. 

“Excuse me, my wife needs help. She had an accident…”

“Chain codes.” the nurse said flatly without looking up but holding out her hand. 

Hunter fished them out and gave them to her. 

“It’s urgent, she needs to see a doctor ri–”

“Just sit down over there and the nurse will be with you shortly.”

“But she needs a doctor NOW!”

The nurse glanced up annoyed. 

“Keep that up and she’ll have to wait a full rotation, buddy.”

Hunter glared but didn’t say a word. Normally he would have fought back harder but with your life on the line, he couldn’t find it in himself to do it. So he did as he was bid, and took a seat in the waiting area. 

You blinked your eyes open with a smile. 

“Hey Handsome.” 

You reached up for his face, and he took your hand in his and gave it a quick kiss. 

“Hey,” Hunter kept his voice low, giving you a quick smile before making a quick survey of the area, “to catch you up real quick, we’re married. You’re my wife and we took you here after an accident on our farm. You’re going to be ok, ok?” 

His eyes darted across your face, looking, searching, for any indication that his words would come true. Even here and now on the brink of being saved, he felt like you’d suddenly vanish and be taken from him. 

He didn’t know what he expected from you, a nod of recognition maybe? But he didn’t get that. Instead, you chuckled. 

“Married? Already? So much for wanting to take it slow, Hunter.” 

To his surprise, a laugh burst from his lips, a smile replacing the worry for a second. He shook his head. Even now, you were trying to look out for him, making him laugh while you were the one who needed help. 

“Always looking out for me, aren’t you?” His voice was warm and full. The deepness of his voice like chocolate on your sore ears, not that he’d know that of course. All he could hope for was that you could hear the depth of love and gratitude he had in such a few words. 

You smiled, “always have, always will, I promise you that.” 

Hunter heard the nurse approach and looked up, only to be faced with a jaw dropping phenomenon. 

“How can I help you today? Wait…Hunter?”

It was Nala, your old classmate.

“Nala?” Hunter repeated, stunned. “You work here?”

“Yes…” her eyes drifted down to you. 

An unsettled feeling came over Hunter. You hadn’t been in touch with anyone since Order 66. Whose side was Nala on?

He didn’t have to wonder long when her face went white and she dropped down on one knee to be at your level. 

“What do you need? Let me assess her and see what I can do.”

Nala came running up carrying various vials and all but shoved them in Hunter’s pockets. 

“Give her this as soon as possible. It’s safer for all of you if you just take it and administer it on your ship. I got word of Imperials coming here shortly. I’ve listed instructions on how to give it to her safely. You should go before someone recognizes you and hands you over. Goodbye, and good luck. Take good care of my friend. When she gets better, tell her to give me a call!”

With that, Nala turned and left, trying her hardest not to give an impression of concern. 

Back on the ship, Hunter did as instructed. After making sure you were carefully placed in bed and made as comfortable as possible, he enlisted Wrecker’s help as soon as they’d jumped to hyperspace. Hunter knew Wrecker wasn’t going to like it, but there wasn’t another way. 

You’ll want to give this one to her first. It’ll regulate her body so she can take the following medications. It’ll help her breathe easier and adjust to what’s coming…it won’t appear so right away so don’t worry. You’re going to need to give this to her in quick succession so don’t wait to see the effects.

Hunter injected the hypo into your arm. 

This one is the IV with the antibiotics. Get her hooked up quickly and make sure the bag is drained before you take it out. 

He rubbed your arm and inserted the needle.

This one, inject into her chest near her heart. This one will hurt the most. 

This one, he couldn’t do. 

“This…is going to hurt.”

“I know.” You stared at the ceiling, trying to catch your breath and collect your courage. “It’s ok.”

Of course you knew, you were a medic. He would have cringed at his own words, but he couldn’t help it. His own fear mocked him and he wasn’t ashamed of it. Pain was pain, and nothing could make him like it or want that for you. All he could do was prepare you in any way he could. 

Your breathing was labored, huffing your breaths, greedy for air, gluttonously swallowing in as much as your lungs would let you. 

“Tell me.” You looked into his eyes, trying to focus, “tell me about it? I can’t seem to remember anything from our big day. What happened? Who was there? How did it go….How did I look?” You huffed a little laugh at the last question, “nevermind, don’t answer that.” Your laugh caused a coughing fit to follow. 

Hunter gripped you firmer as your body racked, fear unmasked in his eyes. 

Shutting your own, you tried to center yourself. 

“Crosshair probably made trouble, didn't he. He and Wreck competed to see who could eat the most cake and got sick, right?” Your voice was nothing other than a whisper, but Hunter could still pick up the dream-like tilt in your voice. The little smile as if it was a real memory, breaking across your lips. 

“Of course, would you expect anything less?”

Another chuckle turned into a gasp of air. 

Hunter kept his gaze on you as he spoke, his hand on your cheek facing him so you wouldn’t have to see what was to come. Rubbing gentle circles in your cheek and wiping away tears, he tried to speak without a shake in his voice. He didn’t know if he succeeded, but ever after that, he’d remember the images burned in his mind both, of the story he was telling and the raw reality of your pain. 

“Tech filmed the entire thing; we’ll have to rewatch it; would you believe Echo had more champagne to drink than anyone? He was so happy the entire night. He was also the only one next to Wrecker to cry.”

You smiled through gritted teeth.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. You looked beautiful all dressed in white…” he stumbled over his words now as Wrecker garnished the needle, “your dress dazzled with little jewel thingies and you liked spinning in it because it reminded you of a waterfall or a butterfly’s wing. I couldn’t keep my eyes off you. And when you walked toward me, I was a mess, because I knew I was the luckiest man in the world, and I couldn’t ever have imagined you more beautiful.”

You swallowed hard. 

“Omega couldn’t stop smiling or singing; and when the music at the Pabu sunsets starts and the orange sun starts setting in the sky, it hit you just right and…”

You screamed as muffled of a scream as you could, but it rang in Hunter’s head so loud it bounced around until he felt like he was going to be sick.  

“Aaand, and, when the sun set, we resaid our vows under the stars, just you and me. Always, just you and me. I’ve got you, it’s ok.”

Your eyes rolled back and all went dark.

Breathing never felt so sweet. You smiled, feeling like you could laugh and cry at the same time. The pain was gone and you felt great! Energy was surging, and life felt beautiful again. Despite the illness, you remembered everything that happened with vivid accuracy. Though your eyes were closed, your mind was very awake and registered everything in perfect memory.

Not just the pain, but the sweet moments too. Hunter taking such good care of you, his poor fear and concern, the thoughts he confessed because he thought you couldn't hear.

You felt the urge to stretch but couldn't move. Opening your eyes and looking around, the sight made your heart melt. Hunter was curled up half beside and half behind you. His body was curled in around yours, holding you as if he feared when he woke, you wouldn't be there. 

Your heart was gripped by the softness of the gesture and you didn't want it to end.

You reached your hand up, running your fingers down his face and neck. The touch was enough to wake him. He stirred, then jolted with realization.

“You're awake!!!” Tears gathered in his eyes as he cupped your face with both his hands. “You're ok.” He smiled and swallowed so hard you could hear it. You embraced him, burying your face in his neck.

“I love you.” 

You froze. You didn't expect him to actually confess to you while you were awake. Hunter sensed your hesitancy and started to pull away, but before he could move an inch, you were grabbing him toward yourself again. 

“I love you, too. So much.”

“Can…we talk? I can't wait anymore.”

“Of course.”

Hunter turned shy. He found his hands extremely interesting as he fiddled with the blanket rim. His face turned red and he tripped over his words.

“I only said what I did because besides you….I wouldn't want to marry any other woman. Who would I even marry…if it wasn't you?”

He paused briefly before continuing.

“I always felt like you deserved way better than me…I can't offer you anything but myself and that's not much of a gift.��

“Hunter! No! You—” 

He gave you a sheepish look and cut you off.

“And I'm so sorry for everything that happened, for how I hurt you. I should have gone to you sooner, I should have…”

Now it was your turn to cut him off, but instead of with words, you captured his mouth with yours in a kiss 

You felt his shock, which made you smile, and soon he joined and returned your soft show of love, holding you even closer than before.

“You scared me.” Hunter said, kisses becoming needier. 

“You scared me first!” You countered, meeting his veracity. “More than once!”

When you both stopped for breath, you settled back in his embrace. 

“Hunter, you're all I could ever need or want. The gift of yourself is more precious than anything or anyone in the galaxy, and that's more than I deserve. All I've ever wanted was the war to end so we could have a family of our own, your brothers all be near us if they're not with us while we raise Omega and children of our own.”

Hunter's face darkened. 

“I wasn't strong enough to protect you or keep this family together. I lost Omega.”

“You didn't lose her, Hunter. She made a choice. She didn't want to lose you, and neither did I. You don't control the galaxy or have some responsibility for everything that happens. It's ok to breathe, Hunt, and let go. All we can do is move onward and face the galaxy together, just like we always do.”

Hunter nodded, the shadow slowly falling from his face, replaced with something gentler. 

“And that story I told before, about you in the white dress?”

“Yeah?” You blushed sheepishly, recalling with a bubbling laugh trapped inside your chest. 

“What do you say we make that real?” Leaning closer, he whispered in your ear, “I want to see you all in white, for real. I want to be yours, only yours, forever. I want to have a family, with you and only you. My brothers can all live close by and we can all be together. We can raise Omega the way she deserves to be raised…and I can love you, the way you deserve to be loved.”

“Yes! Oh yes! My sergeant, I am yours and only yours, now and forever!”

Filled with new determination, you smiled even wider, gripped his hand and got out of bed.

“Come on, now, love, let's go get our kid. Time to bring our family home. Time to start healing and growing.”

"The Empire be warned, we're coming."

Dividers by @stars-n-spice @ve-ti-ver and @djarrex

[emeritusemeritus]

Spellbound [Fred Weasley x Ravenclaw!Reader]

Title: Spellbound.

Pairing: Fred Weasley x Ravenclaw!Reader

Timeline: Non-specified, no mention of canonical events but I pictured OOTP as I was writing.

Summary: Sick of how his twin’s devastating crush on you is affecting his Quidditch abilities, George takes matters into his own hands and meddles.

Warnings: Use of a love potion, essentially dubious consent. Pining, crushes, probably minor swearing. Fred’s a love sick puppy. Questionable morality on George’s behalf. Not beta read.

Word count: 2.7k

This was inspired by a lovely Anon request I was sent, original post here. I hope this is what you were looking for, I enjoyed working on this so much! 💙

George Weasley was one half of the infamously disruptive Weasley twins; usually mentioned second and hardly able to be distinguished from his slightly older twin to those that didn't really know him. To those that did, his identifying qualities included being slightly quieter, more patient, more understanding and perhaps more moral... sometimes. Though it was never said aloud, he was the slightly better Quidditch player with a slightly better aim and was arguably more passionate about the game than his twin. He had more focus at least, which was never more obvious than during this season of Quidditch when Fred had been mightily distracted through most of the games, missing bludgers an amateur could have hit and earning more fouls in one season than he had in his entire time on the team. His reason? He had a crush. An almighty crush on you which made him distracted, inattentive, sometimes irritable and almost constantly mopey.

George was perceptive by nature and had picked up on his brother's infatuation not long after it began, noticing that Fred's attention was often pulled away as soon as you'd walk into the great hall or class. Didn't matter that they were in the middle of a conversation or a tactful sale, in you'd walk and out would go Fred's sanity. George couldn't deny that you were pretty, you'd turned his head a few times, not that he'd ever admit that to his brother, but the affect you had on Fred was almost laughable. He was certain he'd seen his brother drool once over you, the hearts in his love-stricken puppy eyes almost making George want to laugh and vomit at the same time.

When he wasn't pining for you in ways George could hardly fathom, Fred was often touchy and sulky at the unrequited nature of his crush. If he saw another bloke talking to you or making you laugh, he'd be insufferable for the rest of the day, shooting daggers at the culprit and threatening under his breath to set off a dung bomb in the unsuspecting lad's dorm.

To make matters worse, you'd started attending Quidditch games regularly when Ron made Keeper in support of your friend and also as support for Hermione so that she wouldn't have to sit alone with her two best friends on the pitch, despite being a Ravenclaw. Many people went to support their friends and as long as they weren’t competing against your house you figured it was fair game to support them. You'd also infrequently started attending practice sessions with Hermione, sitting in the stands or on the side lines where you would spend most of the time studying or drawing. It was a double edged sword for the team if you showed up or not; if you didn't, Fred would mope about and keep checking that you hadn't arrived late during the entire time on the pitch. If you did show, he'd spend the time trying to impress you with comical dives on his broom, outlandish tricks and almost everything exactly fulfilling his actual role to get your attention.

So George came up with a plan. One night when they were restocking the skiving snack boxes and checking on their slow-brewing potions, he'd come up with a plan that was admittedly a little immoral but should surely work. Tensions had risen between the twins after Fred had received another avoidable foul causing them to nearly lose the match and George had walked out of the changing rooms in a huff to start on the restocking, not wanting to hear Fred waxing poetic about how fit you looked in your jumper or how loudly you were cheering for him the few times during the match he'd actually played well.

George was sick of listening to it and it pushed him to a point when his plan seemed to be the only choice.

The next morning George had woken Fred early, dragging his half asleep twin out of bed to get to the Great Hall bright and early, the older of the two still dishevelled from sleep and rubbing his eyes, grumpy to boot.

"Don't see why you're dragging me down at this time, not like they'll run out of food," Fred complained grumpily as he tried to fall into step with George who seemed to be walking at a faster than normal pace down the staircases. About halfway down the staircases, Fred noticed that his jumper was back to front and had fixed it with a huff and a yawn, battling the wool over his wide shoulders.

"Told you, I'm starving," George replied vaguely with a shrug, a small smirk tugging at his lips as he turned away from Fred to conceal it.

They took a seat at the table and once again Fred complained as he saw hardly anyone up yet except for a few Ravenclaws huddled together on the other side, talking in hushed but excited whispers. Fred begrudgingly accepted a glass of pumpkin juice from George and simply looked at the few slices of toast in front of him, his stomach still asleep. So consumed by his tiredness he didn't even notice that George hadn't taken a bite of any food even after five minutes, despite his prior claims of being starving. Fred sat in a gloomy slump at the table, head in his hands and staring down at the table, if his eyes were open at all whereas George kept his eyes trained on the open door in a much more jovial mood.

"Morning," your voice rang out quietly but pleasantly. George had to physically place his hand over his mouth to conceal the laughter that was threatening to burst out of him watching Fred's reaction to your voice. It was like he'd been electrocuted or at least unknowingly stunned as his head shot up, elbow banging on the table as it slid off the edge of the wooden table as his head whipped up to look at your face.

"Sorry, didn't mean to scare you," you said with a timid smile and a little laugh before taking a seat beside George. You’d usually sit with the other Ravenclaws but as it was so quiet this morning you figured you would sit with the twins.

"You're up early," George says with a smile, offering you the jug of pumpkin juice, which you gladly accepted. Fred had said nothing but his pink cheeks were talking all by themselves, though you didn't seem to notice.

"Wanted to take a long walk around the grounds this morning," you reply after taking a sip of the juice that George had poured for you. "I've been trying to do more exercise lately... it's always so pretty in autumn so it's not as horrible getting up early."

"Why?" Fred says, finally speaking. He regrets it the instant your eyes fall upon him, realising that the word had tumbled out of his mouth before he could even think, his tone a little sharp and defensive, as if it was an unnatural thing to do. "I meant, about the exercise."

"Oh, well I guess it's good for my head," you explained, placing down your cup. "And the waist line, I feel like I put on a stone every term with how good the food is." George chuckles along, finally helping himself to the breakfast food in front of him but you notice that Fred hardly reacts.

"I know what you mean, if it wasn't for Quidditch I'd probably be the size of a troll."

Your laugh renders Fred even more speechless than he already was, so much so that he'd accepted his fate as forever mute at this point.

"Well thank Godric for Quidditch," you say with a smile. Fred doesn't miss the way your gaze suddenly flashes over him, most notably his arms as he lifts the cup to his lips, making him choke into his juice. It was the first time he'd ever noticed your gaze slip over him so obviously.

"Must be tough being a beater, those bludgers must be really heavy," you say, your gaze hardly moving from Fred's arms, up and across his shoulders before slipping down again. He couldn't believe you were looking at him like this, especially when your eyes travelled up to his face and you caught his eyes. You didn't look embarrassed or look away, simply gave him a playful smile before addressing his twin again as he replied to you. Fred was dreaming, he must be.

But the attention didn't stop. Fred didn't know what had changed that morning but he started noticing little things like how you'd catch his eye when you walked into a room, like you were seeking him out, or if he gazed over at you it was only time before you would look in his direction too. He no longer had to pretend that you were cheering the loudest for him at Quidditch matches because you actually were, and noticeably so. You still attended practice sessions infrequently but you no longer kept your head down and in your books, now you were actually watching the team practice, though it appeared you were really only concerned by one half of the beater duo.

George's plan had worked. Fred was in a good mood more consistently, played better during Quidditch as he was actually focused on the game and no longer trying to get your attention as he already had it. Sure he was still grouchy if another male approached you but he didn't feel quite as bad about it when you would seek him out mid conversation, as if you wished it to be him instead.

"I'm gonna ask her out," Fred says one night as they enter their dorm, throwing off his big jumper and leaving it on a pile on the floor beside his bed.

"Maybe you should wait until after this season mate, only two more matches to go if we carry on playing well," George says delicately, taking off his own jumper but instead choosing to fold it onto the chair beside his bed unlike his sloppy twin. He watches as Fred's face scrunches up in displeasure at his words but he doesn't immediately question them, taking time to think about it.

"Yeah maybe," Fred says eventually, reaching don under his bed to pull out the large tray of stock they had stashed, mainly the slicing snack box stuff.

The two of them restocked and replenished the stock they had on hand for a while, completely ignoring all homework before they slipped down to the common room later that night.

"Gonna check the potions," George whispers in Fred's ear before slipping off, leaving him with Lee in the common room.

If Fred noticed anything off about George when he gets back, he doesn’t mention it. But George can feel it, the sense of dread and guilt, exactly what he didn’t want to happen was coming to fruition. He realised then that he’d have to break it to Fred, admit what he’d done.

“You coming mate?” Fred asks, grabbing his quidditch stuff ready to head to the pitch but pauses when he sees George sat on his bed, not making an effort to move. He looks sad, distressed even.

“What’s up? You didn’t eat all those Bertie boys did you?”

“Fred,” George says quietly, eyes slowly rising up until he’s looking into the all too familiar eyes of his twin. “There’s something I need to tell you.”

For the first time in history, Fred and George Weasley weren’t speaking. It was their first proper fall out, first argument and the first time in history that they hadn’t been wandering the corridors of Hogwarts together, causing mayhem or mischief but no one knew why. The tension between the pair was awful for them and everyone around them. Then suddenly, they were back together again even though it was still tense and not at all like it was before, they found their way back to eachother.

“Y/n,” Fred says from behind you, pulling you away from your conversation as the Ravenclaw table, your friends looking on curiously as you turned with a smile to see Fred behind you looking a little nervous.

“Hi Freddie,” you say with a smile, having missed him.

“Can I borrow you?”

You nod, turning to your friends to say bye and got up from the table and followed him out of the Hall, thinking how strange he was acting. He leads you up the staircases with little explanation and manages to sneak you up into his dorm through the portrait hole, something you couldn’t believe he managed to do.

When you walked into his dorm, you saw George sitting on the bed you assumed to be his, the room a little untidy but not awful.

“George?” You say, worried about the sad look on his face. He gives you a little smile and a brief wave as Fred closes the door behind you.

“What’s a matter? What’s going off?” You say, looking between the two. Fred offers you a seat on the nearby bed you assume to be his and he sits beside you, both now looking nervously at George.

“George has something he wants to tell you,” Fred says, casting a rather harsh glare at his brother, tone sharp and resolute. George takes a deep breath, clearing his throat as he looks up at you.

“I,” he manages to get out, but shuts down the moment he opens his mouth, apparently losing all the words he needed.

“It’s okay Georgie,” you say gently, trying to give him confidence.

“No it’s not,” Fred retorts in a much harsher tone. Your head whips round to him and he softens as he looks at you.

“He’s been giving you love potion,” he says, nodding his head towards his guilt stricken twin. Your mouth falls open in disbelief, a frown pulling at your eyebrows as you try your hardest to think of how it was possible.

“But.”

“I didn’t really mean to,” George says weakly but quickly changes his wording when Fred’s glare increased threefold. “Okay I did but not with any malicious intent. He’s bloody obsessed with you and I couldn’t stand the pining anymore, it was insufferable. He wasn’t focusing when you were at Quidditch and I just wanted him to focus again so I thought if you gave him attention back then he’d have his head back in the game and it worked.”

“George!” You say completely outraged, in disbelief that he’d have actually done that. “Stop it right now! It’s not funny.”

He frowns at you briefly, just quick enough for you to see as he looks between you both.

“I haven’t given you any in over a week,” he says curiously, “I ran out last week.”

The room is silent after his reveal as you start to slowly realise that even if you had been given the love potion initially, being without it hadn’t actually changed your feelings of Fred.

“You’re obsessed with me?” You ask, turning to Fred who looks like he wants the ground to swallow him up.

“I wouldn’t have said obsessed… but yeah, I really fancy you,” he says, not quite meeting your eyes. It’s a split second decision that leads you to closing the gap between the two of you, legs touching as you scoot along his bed and slowly lean in to him, trying to gage his reaction. He doesn’t resist in the slightest and finally looks up into your eyes just long enough to realise what’s happening before your eyes close and your lips meet.

George slips out quietly with a pleased look on his face, knowing that everything would be alright in the end. He walks down to the little store room where they brew their potions and he smirks to himself when he sees the still very full cauldron of love potion simmering, the pearlescent pink glow radiating from it.

You’d believed him to easily, both you and Fred. And if he had to take the hit for a little while, it was worth it.

Taglist Requests

@ferntv

@aigowen

@that-lame-ghoul9000

@jules-with-stars

@sleepiemocha

@seppys-return-to-madness

@wtvbabes

@the-mrs-malik-styles

@cedslover

@nisapoosworld

@dashhhhkaaa

@ghostlytv

@nerdymesss

@costheticbabe

@cliffburtonscig

@lildrunkjkk

@levylovegood

@jewelsrules

@jphxnix

@asuperconfusedgirl

@staceys-moms-thighs

@nighttimewrites

@egghasnoleg

@mel119g

@angelrioter

@minatozsana

@quinny921

@blahhh819

@comicgollum20

@moonieseyelash

@marisimps

@xslashers

@70s-chic

@shadyunknowncreation

@rockabieesstuff

@moon-2424

@chx-la

@malenk

@jimmywoosimp

@soulessfictionaddict

@twistedlaces1909

@brookiecookiez0

@nightowlgirl

@fiathefirst

@rybrewer82-blog

@cryb4by-te4rs

@rainingsky37

@football1921

@in-the-middle-of-the-sadness

@rk-ceres

@kisses4fred

@apolloleprince

@slashersimpshadow

@slytherinambitious

@screamingoverfiction

@rhunew

@tomhockstetter7-111

@hagridshaircare

@ellouisa17

@fonderaura

@clemlament

@jennapancake

@murderisfunlol

@ohantonia

@storytime-20

@guavacookie23

@satansdarlin

@smartoneamia

@littlelillysjs

@victorylr

@nanamisfootrest

@nulixity

@03michi01

@hjpbiggestdrider

@wzardweasley

@katarinealbers

@catarinemirandax

@moon-shu

@bob1234567908

@tommysaxes

@hayleygray08

@skivingsnackbox

@slashersimpshadow

@smholbrook

@bbybunnyxxx

@thatonepersonwhocantwrite

@heyareyoulistening

@buskuitsssss

@now-that-we-dontalk

@xluanstuff

@lunacurlclaw

@jelloangela

@distortedfrog888

@justromaaa

@maeganme

@havenater1920

@weasleywheezer

@whotfskai

@zvummyummy

@rogertaylorsgrippers

@fandom-taylor

@justwannaread12

@foreverthemaraudersera

@sonnysshine

@superduckmilkshake

@tkyemfk

@megablonde22

@feralasteria

@s1xthirty

@thatoneuchiha

@agaypurpletoaster

@fudge13

@honeysucklepotter

@crazycat-ladys-blog

@yanqiiuver

@winisposts

[bullet-prooflove]

From Slowdancing in the park lot prompt list

22. I gave your name as my emergency phone call

I get this would be a huge step for Sean Archer & Roxie

I you're feeling it

Sending hugs

Tagging: @soultrysworld @Mysticcandymiracle @kmc1989 @emilyjr @toasted-stiletto 

You don’t you realise you have a problem, not until you have to resubmit your paperwork to renew your contract. Your pen lingers over the emergency contact box and that’s when you realise…

You don’t have one.

In the past you’ve put your parents details but the last time you’d ended up in hospital they hadn’t bothered to show up. You’d been able to hear Boden’s voice echoing down the corridor as he lost his temper with your mother’s excuse about the gala.

“Your daughter almost died today and you can’t be bothered to show up.” He had bellowed into the phone before she’d hung up on him. You could tell he was still enraged about the whole thing when he’d stepped into your room a few moments later to tell you weren’t coming as you breathed in the oxygen through the mask attached to your features.

“You are not alone.” He had told you fiercely as he held your hand in his. “You have 51 and we will not abandon you.”

You hadn’t been able to speak so you’d squeezed his hand in understanding. After that there had always been a member of 51 attending your appointments with you, supporting you through rehab. The one you do end up attending alone because of a call out is the time you run into Sean in the café at Med. You probably wouldn’t have met if it weren’t for that incident.

A few months later you receive a medal for your bravery in the field and it’s another event your parents don’t turn up to. Sean does though, he’s on his feet applauding with the rest of 51 because he’s proud of his girl, of the challenges she overcame to make it back to them all.

Your pen hovers again over the vacant box, It’s only been six months but you have never loved a man the way you love Sean, you’ve never met someone so genuine, so caring.

“Roxie, I’m gonna need that form.” Connie says, lingering at the other side of the table and you hastily scribble Sean’s details into the box before you hand it to her.

It’s later that night that you finally broach the topic with him. He’s sitting in his arm chair with your curled up in his lap, your head resting in the crook of his neck as he flicks through the tv to find that show you like, the one about lunatics who marry each other at first sight. He still can’t believe that’s a real thing, it’s highly entertaining and completely maddening at the same time.

“What’s up baby?” He whispers into your hairline, his fingers combing lightly through your hair. “You’ve been quiet all night.”

“I did something today. I should have asked but I didn’t…” You say trail off as he tilts his head towards you, his eyebrows etching into a frown. “I just realised I didn’t have anyone else and you show up when I need you, you always show up.”

“Roxie.” He says soothingly as his thumb traces over your cheekbone. “I’m sure whatever you did is fine.”

“I put you down as my emergency contact.” You say finally, meeting his gaze. “It means if something happens to me on the job, you’re the first person they’ll call.”

You register the surprise on his features and your eyes sting just a little because you realise you’ve fucked up.

“Roxie.” He says softly as he draws you even closer into the shelter of his body, cradling you close. “You know I’ll always show up for you. I’m happy to be your emergency contact.”

You can’t vocalise the sense of relief you feel when you hear those words, you know he sees it too as he tips your chin up, his lips ghosting over yours.

“You’re not alone anymore baby.” He promises you. “You’ve got me to take care of you now.”

Love Sean? Don’t miss any of his stories by joining the taglist here.

Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

[pessimisticpigeonsworld]

https://www.tumblr.com/rise-my-angel/740720343328686080/the-new-hotd-trailer-has-reminded-me-how-badly?source=share.

1. Jaehaera was not raped...

2. Rhaenyra was having a breakdown on Dragonstone after learning about Luke's death when she received Daemon's letter stating that he would avenge Luke (the letter doesn't even explain how he would avenge Luke). How is that her fault?

3. Aegon is also a rapist in the books, it's not an invention by the writers.

"Who are you?" [Helaena] demanded of the two. "Debt collectors," said Cheese. "An eye for an eye, a son for a son. We only want the one, t' square things. Won't hurt the rest o' you fine folks, not one lil' hair. Which one to you want t' lose Your Grace?" Cheese warned the queen to make a choice soon, before Blood grew bored and raped her little girl. Strange to say, the ratcatcher and the butcher were true to their word. They did no further harm to Queen Helaena and her surviving children. (Fire and Blood: The Dying of the Dragons - A Son for a Son)

You're right anon, Jaehaera was never raped, it was only threatened to hurry Helaena along. I don't understand why TG stans want to add to this event so badly, it's already horrific. It's actions like that which show how GRRM is once again choosing to have morally gray protagonists. TB is in the right about the Dance and who they're supporting, but that doesn't mean their heroes or even morally good in their actions.

It's interesting how op decided to complain that Aegon might be portrayed as incompetent. Aegon was incompetent in the book, so incompetent he was murdered by his own supporters. He's remembered as being one of the most useless kings of Westeros. Saying they're going to dumb him down to make Rhaenyra look better shows how op has never read the book, or even Aegon's wiki lmao.

Further proving my point is the stupidly blind argument of how Aegon "isn't a rapist in the book". The delusion of the TG stans is neverending.

I think the most incredible take in this post is how apparently, in the eyes of op, Criston isn't an incel in season one?? Did we watch the same show? Criston makes the immediate turn to hating Rhaenyra and literally killing people associated with her family after she rejects him. He makes hating her his entire personality for the whole ass show once she refuses to run away with him. He thinks he's entitled to Rhaenyra's entire life and body just because she slept with him once. He's the definition of an incel, go cry about it greenies.

B&C was done without Rhaenyra's knowledge or approval, as you said. Daemon acted on his own (he is a true gray character). She was separated from Daemon when he made his choice, so she had even less control over what he did. Added to that is how Rhaenyra was busy with other fronts of the war and negotiating, how can she be expected to micromanage her husband?

Now, while the original post was written I think before Condal started teasing the whole "people will want to switch sides", the reblog definitely wasn't. Condal has revealed that he plans to make the audience sympathize with the greens more this season. Which is why it makes no sense why the poster who reblogged believes they will make the greens appear worse. They're already making excuses for Aegon raping serving girls, trying to make Alicent be completely innocent of her team's actions, and making Aemond "accidentally" kill Luke.

The show is already so obviously TG, they even aged up Rhaenyra and aged down Alicent to control who the audience sympathizes with. TG stans are just bitter that even the intense white washing can't cover up how in the wrong TG is.

Alicent is totally at least partially to blame for B&C. In the book, she was the head of the green faction and constantly plotted to usurp Rhaenyra, thus causing the war. In both the show and the book, Alicent raised her children to view their nephews as subhuman. She instilled the hatred of them into Aemond long before the Driftmark incident. She's the one who constantly affirmed to them that Aegon is the rightful heir and Rhaenyra is a murderous whore. Alicent bears the blame for what happened to her family just as much as Aegon, Otto, and Aemond.

[brain-rot-central]

Good morning, I'm having mushy personal thoughts

I was throwing around the idea of a possible oneshot/other long fic with Mia the other day. Like Tav/Astarion as adventurers but the events of the game never happened. They're lifelong friends and A just happens to be a vampire with a shitty backstory as to how it happened. But he's like all well adjusted to it now and uses it to his advantage etc

And then Mia suggested something like "hey you don't have to make this BG3 related, it can be actual fiction. You write really well. You don't have to box yourself into just BG3"

And I went

"oh"

I guess it's my imposter syndrome acting up whenever someone says something like that but I'm still in the mindset of like "nah my writing isn't good enough to post on AO3" which is why the majority of my library is here on Tumblr. I don't feel like I belong there; AO3 is only for the really good people. Which I am not. At least to me. And I don't mean to be disrespectful of the grace and the support I've been given by this community; it's all entirely received and I feel it and I cherish it. It's just challenging to change that sort of mindset. But I'm trying.

I would probably never think to actually try writing professionally but tbh I'm at the point where thinking about doing my current career full-time until I'm like 70 makes me extremely depressed so idk I guess now would be a good time to try?

I had a thought the other day too after our discussion where I used to feel a certain kind of way in my 20s, like a whole mess of creative energy all vibrating at the same time and I would try my best to keep it locked in a box and contained and never let it slip out because why bother allowing your creative side to flourish? You didn't choose that path in life. Ignore it, it's not to your benefit. And I would get extremely sad about it and just sit there and go "idk why I'm so sad I should be happy"

And idk it made me really emotional thinking about it because that's what those feelings were. And I remember how creative I used to be in my teens and then over the course of my 20s I just shoved it further and further into a box and kept adding chain after chain over it, effectively trying to suffocate it because I didn't choose it as my career path so it has no use to me. Like literally just trying to kill off that part of me because it doesn't help with efficiency. Turning myself into a machine, essentially.

And now that I'm writing again it's like taking the chains off and allowing the box to pop open every once in a while and idk I feel really fulfilled. It's made me realize just how much of myself I've had to (or forced myself to) sacrifice over the last 10ish years and yeah. It's just nice to reconnect with this part of myself again.

I just wanna thank everyone again for their support. It means so fucking much to me.

Signed,

The girl who hides in the corner because she's told herself she can't hang with the cool kids.

Thanks for lending your hands and showing me otherwise.

[prismaticfaery]

Little Bunny - Part Two

John Price x Fem!Reader

Summary: Mental health struggles take over John’s life, and all Soap wants is for you to see him the way he sees you. An evening out causes a stir.

**TW: Mental health struggles, panic attacks, anxiety, swearing, sexual content (not graphic), angst, breastfeeding, alcohol use. Forgive me if I’ve missed any!

Rating: Mature

Over 10K words!

Part One

A/N: Wow this took a bit for me to release, I am so sorry for the wait! I was originally going to post “Little Bunny” as a stand alone but with so many of you enjoying it, I just had to make this a series! Thank you so much for all of your support! I hope you all enjoy! ❤️

Soft breaths fanned across your face, a heavy arm wrapped around your waist. It felt like home being in his arms, limbs wrapped around each other under the blankets. God he was so handsome, you thought, your sleep-heavy eyes could see the features of his face so clearly with the moon so bright in the sky. Soft snores escaped John’s mouth, his lips parted ever-so-slightly. The corners of your mouth turned up into a smile. Reaching your hand up to the soft auburn chops that John kept so neatly groomed, your hand lightly brushes against the hairs and the soft skin of his cheeks. 

Being the light sleeper he was, John’s eyes shot open, those bleary baby blue eyes staring right into you, “fucking hell, Pup, you scared the shit out of me,” his voice cracks.

“Sorry, I didn’t think I would wake you up,” you whisper, your hand still resting on his cheek. 

“You seem to forget who I am,” John’s arm reaches over to brush one of your baby hairs back that stuck straight out, displaced from sleep. 

“I could never forget who you are,” you chuckle, capturing his lips with your own. 

Placing a hand on your waist, he deepened the kiss, the familiar taste and smell of his cigars invading your senses, his body melting against yours. You could feel the temperature rising under the blankets as you wrap your arms around his neck, John taking the opportunity to roll onto you, his hips digging into your pelvis, grinding softly into you. With a trembling breath, you look into his eyes, pleading for him to keep going, his hand reaching between the both of you– 

Gasping awake, your tired eyes scan your surroundings, your sight landing on the little stuffed bunny that came in the post. You could hear the tiny body of your newborn stirring in her sleep, soft squeals and grunts letting you know that she was on the verge of tears. The hour was late– past midnight now, and you knew she would be rooting for her food as soon as she woke. Latching your hand onto the bassinet to move it closer to you, you sit up from your position in bed, watching as the baby’s mitten covered hand is brought to her mouth. Chuckling to yourself, you reach down and lift her from her bed, bringing her close to your chest. 

“Let’s get you fed, yeah?” You whisper, your nose brushing against the soft tufts of hair that jutted from her head. 

Three weeks. 

Three weeks since you received the knitted bunny in the mail, the familiar penmanship of John is a clear indication that the event in London was real– he in fact saw you with the child you both had part in making. Your mind was being pulled in every which way, your body heavy like lead. He only knew the baby’s nickname, not even her real name. John was unaware that the baby even shared his last name. Giving her his last name was your way of showing your love for him, that it would always be there. 

Your sleep heavy eyes watched as the baby ate from your breast, a heavy tear threatening in the corner as your body shivered from a sudden feeling of sadness, a shaky breath escaping your lips. You often dreamed of John, and it always ended the same way– with you under him, his calloused hands softly caressing the flesh of your waist, squeezing fervently as he pushed his hips into yours, relishing in any friction it caused. You were craving his touch and his very presence– it was suffocating. You just wanted him here, to meet his baby. You knew that if circumstances had been different, that he would be so obsessed with his daughter, and would be at your beck and call while you recovered from birth. 

Reaching out was not in the books for John, you knew that better than anyone, but while he was on leave, he could have easily asked to meet his daughter and then leave it at that. Just to meet her once. To speak about where to go from there, whether to co-parent, be together officially and raise her as a family, or to keep the no contact going. You felt like you were in limbo– not knowing what the hell to do to move forward. 

“I’m sorry, Bun,” you say almost silently, but just low enough for the baby to stir at your words. 

As the baby continued to eat, your attention went to your phone. Johnny had texted hours before and you had not answered him yet. He continued to check in on you, even though you never replied back, his texts went through just fine, but all that he got was a read receipt from you. Holding your cell phone in your hand, you began to type out a reply to him finally. You did miss him after all– especially his goofy personality. 

“Sorry I’m reaching out so late, but I just wanted to tell you that I’m still alive,” you send the text without a thought. 

Johnny had trouble sleeping most nights, and he depended on a midday nap to keep himself from falling asleep during debriefs or sniping practice– he often felt like a slacker but it was how he was for most of his life. His bare chest was rising and falling calmly as his head was turned to look out of his window, watching the night sky– the moon to be exact. He enjoyed the night time, as he was always able to get lost in his thoughts and think about his life. To imagine where he may be in life years down the road when he decides to retire from the military. He liked to imagine that he would finally settle down with a pretty girl, and have a few babies, living out in the country with a small farm. 

His mind often turned to thoughts of you, and how he would do anything to see you again. You looked so pretty as a new mother– your cheeks flushed and your features going soft compared to the hardened appearance you had while in the military. He had grown so fond of you over the years, but his heart nearly skipped a million beats when he finally got to see you again after months. God he wished he had the courage to tell you exactly how he felt, but he knew after all this time that the Captain was who had your attention. He could dream though, right?

Price had become withdrawn, focusing only on his work for the new recruits of the SAS and never coming out of his room or office. He had even stopped going out to the bar with the Task Force. Johnny knew that the baby you carried and birthed was Price’s, judging by Price’s reaction to hearing that the baby arrived. It deeply upset Johnny knowing that you gave birth without the baby’s father by your side– you deserved at least that, but the baby deserved more. That little baby girl deserved a father that was present, and John was acting like a fucking moron. 

Feeling his phone vibrate against his bare chest, Johnny’s thoughts were wiped away, his hand flipping his phone up and his heart nearly stopped when he saw that you had answered. It was about damn time that you did as well– he felt like he was talking to a damn brick wall for months. Scanning the words of your text, Soap’s eyes crinkle in the corners as his smile grows. Typing out a reply, he let out a huff of air, like a breathy chuckle. 

“‘Bout damn time, don’t disappear like that on me anymore,” his text read. 

“I promise,” you reply back almost instantly.

“You getting any sleep with that cute little girl?” Johnny types out, hesitating to hit send, but finally going for it. 

“Hardly,” you text back quickly, then seconds later, a “typing” bubble pops up, to which Johnny waits, “I think she’s going through a growth spurt right now, she’s been eating so much it seems.”

Johnny’s smile hasn’t faltered yet, his happiness was an understatement. Knowing that you’re finally texting him back, and being so casual– like how it used to be between the both of you, it was making his heart soar. If only you had felt the same way as he did, if only you loved him like he loved you. He would take care of you and the baby, treat her like his own flesh and blood because only God knew how badly he wanted that. 

For years, you both trained together. For years, you went on deployments together, and even went through selection together for the SAS. Spent many drunken evenings at the bar with your squad, and the Task Force, and it was only now that Johnny began to realize that when you left your seat at the bar to go to the bathroom, and Price followed behind you moments later, that it was to have a quick hookup, and that those happened quite frequently at the bars. It probably happened more often than he thought at base. There were times where you both had snuck to each other’s rooms late at night to play video games or card games, or to just lend a listening ear. It never led to anything romantic or otherwise sexual, as Johnny respected your boundaries and would provide friendship until you came to him and asked for something more. He had many instances where he wanted to ask you out on dates but had gotten too nervous when you made eye contact with him while he spoke– God you had such pretty eyes. 

The texting back and forth had continued for hours until Johnny assumed you had finally fallen asleep. You both had finally caught up on each other’s lives, and you seemed to be doing well for the most part, especially with being a brand new mother and still going through the hormonal roller coaster right after giving birth. Johnny hoped that you both would keep in contact, and hopefully he would have a leave soon so he could plan to meet up with you. Those few moments in the cafe weren’t enough– he needed to hold you longer, look at your beautiful and glowing face and have it etched in his brain forever. 

Early morning rolled around quickly, the nearly empty glass of scotch sat untouched for some time on the desk, papers strewn messily across the wooden surface. A half smoked cigar was placed inside an ashtray at the end of his desk though the smell of smoke still lingered inside the office. John sighs, twirling a pen between his fingers as he stared off at the white door across from his spot at his desk. He hadn’t left his office yet, as he had found it more comforting in this room, rather than sitting in the silence of his barracks room where he found himself suffocating and wanting to claw his way out of his skin. He saw your reddened cheeks stained with tears as you walked past him, ignoring his existence like he ignored yours and the baby’s. He wanted to run after you, and he should have, but he didn’t. That made him a coward in every shape and form. He should have met his new baby girl, and asked how you were doing. Fear ate away at him constantly with his job, but knowing that you and the baby seemed to be doing just fine, he didn’t want to jinx it. 

When John sent out the parcel that contained the knitted rabbit, he knew that he could potentially open a can of worms, but he needed you to know that he was thinking about the both of you. For all he knew though, you had thrown the rabbit away, refusing to allow the baby to keep something her absent father sent– you had every right to do so. You had tried to keep John around, to at least have him by your side to think of the options in bringing forth the life you both had created together. He should never have left you alone in that bathroom to fend for yourself, and in such a vulnerable moment. John knew you were scared, he could see it on your face with your dried tear trails and in your body language. You didn’t want to tell him then and there but you had to, and John was not a stupid man, he would have figured things out given some time. You had been sleeping more, your breasts becoming fuller– you’d even complained about them being tender one evening. You avoided breakfast the morning you had told John the news of the pregnancy and that wasn’t like you. 

“Captain, I need your help with this,” your voice came from behind, John’s body turning quickly to see who was asking him for help. 

It was you, your bright eyes peering into his as you held a pistol in your hand, “what’s the issue?” He asks, taking your firearm from you, pointing it down to the ground and keeping his finger away from the trigger.

“It’s jammed,” you say, crossing your arms to your chest, “would you mind helping me with it so I can get back to range practice?”

John scoffed, a mischievous smile forming on his mouth. He knew damn well you knew how to get the jams in your guns out, but here you were, handing over your pistol to him. Taking the magazine out, John kept the pistol pointed down and away from you and anyone else, keeping his fingers tightly on the slide lock, smacking the butt of the pistol once, then twice. The metal clink of the round gave confirmation that the jam was cleared. John held the round in his hand, examining the possibilities of why and how it got stuck in the chamber. 

“Make sure to check the rounds before loading them into the magazine– this one’s swollen,” John tossed the round to you, your hands cupped to catch it. 

“Yes sir,” you nod, batting your eyelashes at him. 

“Now, I think you knew this round was bad. Do you know how dangerous this could have been? Exploded shrapnel inches from your face?” Price’s arms crossed, his eyes boring down at your much shorter self. 

“Well, I–,” you tried to search for the excuse you were going to use but Price was backing you into the wall of the range, “I wasn’t going to shoot.”

“Yeah? What were you planning then?” Price placed his hands on the wall to box you in, his head tilted down. 

“I think you already know, Captain,” you look up, your eyes fluttering closed as his face moves closer to yours. 

“John, just John,” his lips capture yours greedily, your hands grabbing at his shirt to pull him closer to you. 

“I’ve seen the way you look at me,” you pull away, your breathing erratic. 

“You realize you do the same with those pretty eyes of yours?” John’s mouth curled into a devious smile. 

John couldn’t help but laugh at the memory of you and him. You were very obvious with your lust and obsession for him, but he was not a subtle man either. He knew what made your head turn to look at him, he knew what you enjoyed most about him. You loved his neatly groomed beard, and the way he would neaten it up with his sandalwood comb in the middle of meetings. Your mind flooded with thoughts of the beard burn he could be giving you between your legs. He loved watching you squirm in your seat while his eyes scanned over your entire body. 

Looking at the watch around his wrist, John’s body slumped in his seat. It was the fifth day in a row that he had stayed up until the sun was rising. His sleep schedule was horrendous and he was blaming it on the fact that he just couldn’t get you and the baby out of his head. His little baby, so tiny and sweet, stirring inside the sling wrapped around your body. The little wisps of hair smoothed down by the knitted bunny hat that sat atop her head. He wondered if she was good to you and let you sleep, or if she was a good eater like her daddy was. John’s brain swam with so many questions about his little girl. He wanted to hold her, and rock her, and give her so many kisses, watching her tiny nose scrunch at the feeling of his beard against her soft cheek. He was being selfish, he knew that very well, but maybe in a different time he would experience that. 

For now though, John needed to sleep, and he was thankful that he did not have to work. Slamming down the rest of his scotch, he huffed, grabbing the keys from the top of his desk to finally retreat to his room. He was sure that he’d struggle to fall asleep like he had been for months now, but his job depended on him to at least be somewhat rested and awake enough to make important decisions. 

Once reaching his room and locking the door, John began to pull his green t-shirt off of his body and strip out of his camo pants. He felt a wave of exhaustion wash over his body but he knew that even if he needed to sleep, he wouldn’t be able to. His body was in a constant fight or flight and his mind raced so much that it scared him to pieces. John feared for the safety of you and the baby every waking moment. Not even the burn of scotch or whiskey took his mind off of it. 

It was days later and in the early hours of the morning, the baby was still asleep in her bassinet and swaddled snugly inside a muslin blanket. Your phone had multiple notifications from Johnny, and you felt happy if only for a short moment since your journey as a single mother. You regretted not reaching out more often to friends, especially ones that you had known through your career in the military and had experienced life changing things with. You cared so much for Johnny and you knew that he cared for you more than a normal friend would. You were grateful for him, and knew that regardless of the time lost, it would be made up for quickly. You just didn’t know how to open up after John left you in such a state. You wanted to tell Johnny everything that happened– why you left the military so suddenly, why you hid a whole pregnancy and baby for so long, who the baby’s father was, and why he wasn’t present. You just didn’t want to have a spotlight on you and risk Johnny acting irrationally for your sake because you knew he would. Johnny had once punched a new SAS soldier in the face for catcalling you and from then on, you knew that his protective nature around and for you was out of love. 

Your mother’s footsteps up the stairs pulled you from your thoughts, and soon her head was poking through the crack of your door, “my love, do you need me to watch the baby while you get some work done?”

“That would be great, thank you,” you rub the sleep from your eyes, wrapping the blanket from your bed around you and shuffling over to your desk, turning the computer and monitor on to log into your job. 

Your mother had a smile on her face as she snuck over to the sleeping baby in the bassinet, picking her up gently so as to not disturb her sleep. Once your mother had left the room with the baby, you began to get lost in your work, deadlines for projects sneaking up on you quickly as the start of a new month would soon be upon you. Your boss begged you not to come back so soon after having the baby, but you felt like you needed to in order to keep yourself from going crazy and thinking too much. The baby had been here for six weeks, and even though the days went by so quickly, it still felt like an eternity. You couldn’t imagine sitting in the house rotting away without a single thing to do while you took maternity leave. 

Your mother had spoken to you about seeing a therapist, to at least speak about all of the negative feelings and emotions you often felt, and to turn them around into a more positive thing. You had been warned about the possibilities of postpartum anxiety and depression, and maybe you were experiencing it here and there, but you were sure that it wasn’t because of the lack of sleep or the hormones, you knew it was from the predicament you were thrust into. Being alone from the start of your pregnancy to now, you knew that this was the main cause. As well as thinking of the could-have-beens and should-have-beens. You may have told John you would do this alone, but you were expecting him to put up more of a fight. Especially since he had told you he had love for you in the past, but you also believe it may have been a heat-of-the-moment comment. One would think that when confessing love, the person would try to do anything to keep you around or to not leave you in a predicament that should have been worked through together. You had to become cold-hearted in the situation, knowing that you were ex-military– Special Forces at that and John was in a higher position in the Special Forces. He was a leader. So many things played part in the safety of the three of you, you knew this, and so did he. But why is it so difficult to understand? Why is it always eating away at you? Grief was not only relevant towards death, it was also relevant to the outcomes you wanted but couldn’t get. 

Throughout the day, your mother had brought you snacks and drinks, and reminded you to pump milk for the baby’s stash for the freezer. You had no clue how you would survive without her help in this, and you were so incredibly grateful for her support. When the baby wanted to eat, your mother was right at the door, asking if it was okay for her to feed from you rather than break into the stash that was needed for more important times, like when you needed to leave the house. 

Scrolling through the proposal you had drawn up with one hand, while the baby’s hand grasped at your lifted shirt while she ate, you heard your co-workers discussing random things amongst themselves. Tiny gulps came from the baby as she ate quickly, and you had to mute your microphone to not have her disturb the meeting going on through video call. Her eyes were wide open, staring right up at you. Smiling down at her and letting out a soft coo, she began to unlatch herself from you to give you her full attention. Six weeks old and absolutely obsessed with staring up at you, but she had yet to give you a gummy smile. 

“You’re the prettiest little thing,” you say softly to her, her eyes widening at the sound of your voice. 

Giving her the biggest smile you could muster, you pinch her soft and chunky cheek… and there it was: a smile. In all of it’s gummy glory– a smile. You laugh and squeal in excitement, your mom asking what was going on. 

“Mum, she smiled at me!” 

“She did not! I missed it!” Your mother yelled up the stairwell. 

“It’s about time, you little stink,” you squish the baby’s cheek between your pointer finger and thumb, the action earning you another cheeky smile. 

Dinner rolled around, your plate long abandoned on the dinner table, most of it eaten and the rest had gone cold. You had taken up a spot on the carpet, the baby having her tummy time on a floor gym. Her grunts were so amusing as she tried her best to keep her head up for as long as she could muster, her pretty eyes glued on you and each movement you made. 

Your mother was in her spot on the recliner, her legs crossed, and her fingers twirling and twisting yarn on her knitting needles, the television lowered enough to be a calming background noise. She had been working on a new cardigan for the baby, the yarn was yellow, like a sunflower in the summer. There was a small knitted bumblebee already made that she was going to add to the breast of the cardigan. Knitting had always been your mother’s hobby, and you were glad that she was able to keep up with it, especially now that there was a grandbaby to spoil. While away in the Royal Army, you had taken along a cream colored blanket she knitted you, and John had always wrapped himself in it whenever he snuck into your room for the evening. He always mentioned how neat the stitches were, his fingers brushing against the beautiful moss stitches. 

“Do you know how to knit like your mother?” John asks, his hands resting on his bare stomach.

“She did teach me, but I never finished any of the projects I started,” you hum, sitting on the edge of the bed while rubbing your elbows with lotion, your hair pushed back with a fuzzy cat ear headband, face glowing with moisturizer from your skincare routine. 

“You should make me something.”

“You really don’t want me to do that,” you side eye John, a shit-eating grin forming on his face. 

“Can’t be that bad, pup.”

“Oh, but I am.”

It must have been comfortable on the floor for you, as you seemed to have drifted off for a moment. Your mother had the baby resting on her chest as she continued her knitting project. You stare at your cell phone screen, realizing it had been well over a half an hour since you had fallen asleep. Sitting up, you put yourself in a criss-cross position, rubbing the sleep from your eyes. 

“Proper tired you must have been,” your mother laughs at your hunched position on the floor.

“I’m sorry, I don’t know why I fell asleep like that,” you mumble, tapping the screen on your phone, noticing that Johnny had called you– he must have had an emergency, “would you mind if I took a call real quick?”

Quickly accessing Johnny’s contact information in your phone’s contact list, you press the phone to your ear, listening to it ring twice before Johnny answers, “I didn’t think you’d call back,” a huff of air escapes his lips– a soft chuckle. 

“Is everything alright?” You ask, placing your thumbnail between your teeth. 

“All’s right– just wanted t’hear your voice,” the thick Scottish accent came through. 

“Well, if you enjoy very tired ‘I-just-woke-up-from-a-nap’ voices, you’ve called the right person,” you yawn.

“Shit, I’m sorry if I woke ya.”

“No, don’t apologize, I’m glad you called me. I was thinking about you earlier today,” you admit, your stomach twisting in nervous knots from the realization of your words– you shouldn’t have said it like that… should you?

“That makes two of us,” Johnny hesitates, almost as if he had to process what you said for a moment. 

There was a pregnant pause, your teeth now biting away at what little thumb nail you had left, “how has everyone been at base?” You finally break the silence. 

“Ghost is on deployment, and Gaz is taking a leave,” Johnny skirts around mentioning John, to which you’re thankful for– you didn’t need to hear about him and Johnny didn’t want to speak about him anyway if he were being completely transparent. 

“Are you planning on going to the ball coming up?” You ask, the silence heavy once again between the both of you. 

“That’s actually why I called– to ask you to come with me,” Johnny’s heart was racing faster than even he could comprehend, and he knew that the possibilities of you rejecting him were higher now that you had become a mother– chances of rejection were high before, but even more so now. 

“I don’t know, Suds, I have to pump milk every few hours and–.”

“You know I don’t care ‘bout that, I’ll even sit with you while you pump– feed you some of those fancy finger foods too,” Johnny laughed, a hand brushing through the mess that was his mohawk. 

Your smile grew and your cheeks began to heat up, Johnny’s laugh contagious and goofy. You missed the place that had become a home after so many years, being around the people that had become like your siblings when you had no siblings of your own back home. Maybe accompanying Johnny to the ball would allow you to reunite with those familiar faces and to catch up on lost time. You wouldn’t mind seeing Johnny in formal attire as well– he did clean up quite nicely. You could also make up for the time you cut Johnny off during your pregnancy. Thank goodness Johnny was so forgiving because he could have easily told you to never contact him again. 

“You promise to feed me?” 

“Of course,” Johnny replied back quickly, and without a doubt. 

The pub had been deafening, the voices of the patrons whooping and cheering as a football match commenced on the televisions. John usually indulged in the games, but lately he found no interest no matter how hard he tried to pay attention. Not even a glass of whiskey or scotch pulled him out of his disinterest. He felt like an old man, despite being in his late thirties, yet at the same time, other things had his mind occupied. He had tried drowning himself in work for the SAS, and even bringing women to his room after an evening of drinking but all of his thoughts led him right back to you. He was helplessly in love with you, and he was watching you slip further and further away with how much time continued to pass. His visits to your mother’s social media sent him into a spiral for hours. Looking at the gorgeous crystal blue eyes of his little girl– knowing that he was the one responsible for the exact shade and color caused tears to sting in his eyes. How you mustered to look into those precious blue gems every waking moment without thinking of the state John left you in was baffling. You were always good at hiding things and he saw nothing in your eyes– no sadness, no anger, just pure love and bliss while caring for that little baby. You had no mean bone in your body but if you had ever released your anger on him, that would be the day he would fear for his life.

The whiskey in his glass was hours old at this point, and the thought of knocking it back made his stomach turn sour. Scooting the glass across the bar to have the barkeep take it away, he turned his body around in the bar chair, staring up at the television for a moment to see the team he usually cheered for losing miserably, he thought about standing up and leaving, but his attention was soon turned to his phone vibrating in his jacket pocket. Digging into his pocket and looking at the preview of the notification on his screen, he chuckled. He had found a way to receive notifications from your mother’s social media without having to actually be her friend. John felt sneaky and wrong for it, but he loved when posts included you and the baby– it gave him a glimpse into the life you created away from him and the Army. 

The baby was in the kitchen sink inside of a flower cushion he could only assume was an infant bath. A washcloth was covering her plump belly as she was reclined back on the cushioned flower bath, her tiny hands balled into fists against her chest. What tugged his heart the most was the gorgeous gummy smile his little girl gave the camera all while having a pile of soap suds on her head. Tapping the photo, he pressed his thumb down on the screen to save the photo to the library dedicated to you and the baby. He had started saving every photo posted so that he could stare at both of you any time he wanted. His eyes scanned over the caption your mother had attached to the post. 

“Bun-Bun has been smiling so much lately,” John read the caption out loud. 

His heart then sank to the pits of his stomach when he realized it must have been a new milestone for Bunny– the smiling. She was six weeks old now so it made perfect sense. My God, was she the most beautiful little creature he’s ever seen, and did her smile make her even more gorgeous. Just like you– his Pup, but boy did you hate that nickname he gave you. He could be there with you, bathing her each night before bed, making sure her skin is moisturized with lotion, zipping her into a sleepsuit. He would watch as her little eyes fluttered closed as she rested in his arms after a warm bottle. 

Escaping to the bathroom in a rush, John locks himself inside a stall, his hands bracing against the stall door, his legs heavy and his chest tightening. Panic washed over him so intensely that it hurt his muscles, and his breathing became erratic. A whimper escapes his lips as he tries his best to hold himself up, an unbearable tightening in his throat makes it hard to swallow back the saliva that collected in his mouth. It wasn’t often he experienced a panic attack, but he surely was not a beginner in handling them. The panic and anxiety was destroying him more often lately, and it took him up to an hour to get a handle on himself– he definitely couldn’t drive in these states and he wouldn’t dare be seen in the public eye like this either. 

Sliding down to the cold tile floor, John places his head in his hands, his breathing still out of control and his chest full of bricks. Taking the beanie off of his head, he heaves a large breath in and out, repeating it multiple times until his lungs finally felt like they were receiving enough oxygen so he wouldn’t pass out on the dirty floor. But then the waterworks began, heavy and hot against his cheeks. He was never ashamed of crying, but he was ashamed that he let himself become so low that the crying was such a persistent thing. Therapy and medication was something he had done in the past, but it was due to seeing so much death and losing so many squadmates he cared about. If he saw a therapist and spoke to them about the shit he had done to you and that baby– just leaving you to fend for yourself in the throes of pregnancy, birth, and single parenthood, he knew he would be judged. 

“Can I turn your head?” Your voice plays in John’s head. 

John could almost feel the soft touches of your fingertips on his face, his neck going lax as you pushed his head to the side for a better view of his beard. He would have you touch his beard up in places he couldn’t quite see or maneuver well into. It was one of his favorite moments of intimacy with you, your breasts so close to his face that he could smell the sweet scent of your body wash and perfume. His hands settled on your hips or waist, brushing softly under the shirt you wore to get just a sliver of your skin– to feel how soft it was under his rough fingertips. 

Using a fine tooth comb, you gathered the coarse auburn hairs, examining the length over and over until you felt satisfied to move on. John took his beard care very seriously, and you didn’t want to ruin the progress he made on growing it out so thick and even. It made you nervous in the past to use the straight razor, but John insisted that you would be just fine and that it would cause less irritation for him to have it used on his skin rather than a regular razor– which is what you preferred to use overall. Once you were done, you would oil his beard and smooth it down with beard wax, the smell so incredibly dizzying that you would pull his beard with your fingers and smash your lips against his. John places his large hand on the back of your neck, and pulls you further into the kiss, teeth gnashing, your throat releasing the smallest of whimpers into his mouth. You tasted so divine– so addicting and he always wanted more. 

Often, those moments he remembered from the past would pull him back to Earth– to ground him during his panic and his anxiety. John’s breathing had steadied, but the adrenaline stayed, his hands shaking and his body trembling. The sticky tears that dried on his cheeks desperately needed to be washed away. He needed to get back to base– to sleep off the extreme exhaustion his body felt after experiencing his panic attack. 

Johnny could hear Price’s footfalls in the hallway– it didn’t help that he had to live across from the man and would hear him coming to his room at all hours of the evening and early morning. He knew the man had become a wreck– his attitude cold and overall he became so distanced from everyone. The Task Force had become like an old toy, discarded into a donation box after it had been played with. Price never let the Task Force go so long without an objective to look into and solve– it had been months. Johnny, Ghost, and Gaz decide to take private contracts elsewhere or help the SAS whenever they need it. Price needed to get his shit together. 

With the ball coming up soon, the younger male knew that Price would most likely not attend and he was hoping his hunch was correct as he didn’t want the two of you to cross paths. He wanted to save the both of you as much hurt as possible– especially you. Johnny knew you were hurting so badly and were trying your damned best not to show it through your texts. He wanted to take all of your hurt away– to carry it on his shoulders for you. With you agreeing to accompany him to the ball, his heart felt like it could burst into a million happy pieces and he was hopeful for his moment to finally scoop you up, with Bunny as a little bonus. 

Comfortably resting on his bed, Johnny’s arm draped across his midsection as he scrolled through his social media timeline– you often told him that he’d run into a wall one day with being on his phone so much, but he couldn’t help it. It was an addiction looking into other people’s lives and reading news articles. He especially loved watching your mother’s page for anything new to pop up about you or the baby. He hoped that one day, you would reactivate your social media and post daily like you used to in the past. 

A notification on his phone pulled him from his thoughts– you had texted him. Boy, did he feel spoiled with a phone call and texts all in the same week. 

“Looking at dresses, what do you think?” You ask, two screenshots attached to the text message. 

One emerald green dress, and one royal blue dress. Both were floor length, simply designed but still beautiful. The emerald green dress however, caught Johnny’s attention with its keyhole neckline, the slit would sit right between your breasts, and show a perfect diamond cutout of your glowing skin. 

“I think the green one would look gorgeous on you,” Johnny texts back, sending a thumbs up emoji right after. 

“T-minus two weeks and it’ll arrive five days before,” you send back quickly, a gasping emoji at the end of your text. 

Johnny laughs, searching for his .gif of the screaming groundhog to send back, “THE STRESS,” he replies after the .gif sends. 

You react to the message with a crying laughing emoji, and the man can’t help but giggle at how excited he was knowing that you were also excited. Was he hopelessly in love with you? Yes, absolutely. He could run laps around base a million times and have a smile on his face the whole time. Now he had to think about flowers, what fragrance he was going to use. Would you dance with him? Would you consent to a kiss when he brought you back home? His mind was racing with thoughts and possibilities. 

Staring at yourself in the full length mirror in your room, you smooth out the wrinkles of the dress you ordered online. It hugged every single one of your curves nicely but it was a little tight around your chest area with the baby not having eaten in a few hours. If you and Johnny stayed at the ball for more than a few hours, you would have to pump to relieve pressure and to keep possible leaks from happening. It ground your nerves knowing that breast pads would be too visible underneath the thin material of the dress, and so you had no protection if you had a random letdown of milk. Where would you even keep the breast pump and milk cooler– in Johnny’s car? Thank goodness it was still rather chilly out and you had ice packs. 

Your mother told you to stop fretting over everything but this was going to be your first night away for so long. Not leaving the baby for more than a few hours at a time in her eight weeks was filling you with anxiety. You trusted your mother obviously, but that baby was your whole life– you couldn’t stand the thought of leaving her for too long. Maybe a drink or two would settle your nerves. 

With your makeup done, your hair placed up in a sleek bun, and your skin moisturized, you placed your heels on your feet, tightening them around your ankles. Your mother was entertaining Johnny and the baby downstairs– you were actually surprised he arrived right on the dot as his punctuality was not the best. The Scottish accent never failed to make you smile– it got so thick with certain words as you listened to the conversations your mother and Johnny had in the living room. You made fun of Johnny once for not being able to say “barely”, his finger wagging at you to stop your silliness. Spritzing perfume on your neck and chest, you sigh, hoping the fragrance was okay for the evening. Being in the military, you only ever used light scents, so anything musky or stronger was not something you were used to. 

You begin to make your way downstairs, Johnny’s eyes lighting up as he watches you descend the stairs. He was holding the baby in his arms, her beautiful blue eyes not once leaving him– she was in awe with him as he was with the both of you. He looked so incredibly handsome in his formal suit, with his badges and medals decorating his jacket. Standing up from his spot on the sofa, he held the baby to his chest, cradling the back of her head with his hand as her chin rests on his shoulder. 

“You look stunning,” he finally says after staring for a minute. 

“Thanks Suds,” you hold your hands out to take the baby from him. 

“She seemed a wee peckish– was eatin’ her hand while I held her,” Johnny chuckled, his hand softly resting on the baby’s head as you held her to your chest. 

“Is it okay if I nurse her before we leave?” You ask, Johnny nodding his head as he motioned his hand for you to take his spot on the couch. 

Confused on how you were supposed to feed the baby while wearing the dress, you fumbled a bit before asking Johnny to unzip the back of the dress so you could shrug it down your shoulders. Rough hands begin to find the beginning of the zipper at your neck, sliding it down gently so it wouldn’t snag on the way down. As the baby ate, Johnny’s eyes never left yours, and it was making you nervous. You knew it was his way of being respectful as you fed the baby but you found yourself drowning in his ocean blue eyes, and you knew your cheeks were tinged red at this point. He was so attractive– and the smell radiating from him was enchanting. 

“I got ya flowers by the way,” Johnny breaks the silence finally, “your mum is putting them in a vase.”

“How lovely, thank you,” you flash a toothy smile, and it’s followed suit by a nervous clearing of your throat. 

It was around eight in the evening by the time you and Johnny had reached the venue for the ball, Johnny asking what your plans were for pumping during the car ride– the most you could handle without leaking capped around three hours. Johnny set an alarm for 10:30pm, not wanting you to go too long and being too uncomfortable. He was extremely prepared, the backseat of his Audi sedan had blankets and pillows for you to sit and pump. It was very thoughtful of him to do that, and you wished he didn’t spoil you so much, being that you two had been on missions and deployments in the worst possible conditions. 

Once you both had exited the car and Johnny handed the keys off to a valet, you entered the venue together, your arm linked with his. Light music played in the dance hall, couples mingling and drinking from champagne flutes and rocks glasses. A few familiar faces had come into your view, but the nerves began to take over. Johnny noticed this– your arm squeezing him a little too tightly. Resting his hand on yours, his thumb brushed lightly over the top of your hand. Breathing in deeply, you exhaled after a moment– an attempt to calm your nerves. You were going to be okay, but there was a deep lingering feeling that you had a spotlight on you, that everyone knew the reason you left the military in such a hurry. That you got knocked up with Captain Price’s baby. 

“Holy shit,” a familiar voice shouted across the room, “is that who I think it is?” Gaz came into view. 

“Oh Gaz,” you cried out, releasing yourself from Johnny’s arm to hug Gaz, the tall man embracing you tightly, your head resting against his chest. 

“We missed you,” Gaz whispered to you, one of his hands squeezing your shoulder. 

Tears began to well in your eyes, but you refused to let them fall and ruin your makeup,”I missed you all so much.”

Releasing you from his bear hug, Gaz looks you up and down, ”you look bloody amazing.”

“I second that,” Johnny smiles, wrapping an arm around your shoulders, your hand resting on the middle of his back. 

The happiness you felt in this moment was immeasurable, seeing the warm smiles of Gaz and Johnny. It was too bad Ghost was still on deployment. Gaz and Johnny often talked him into coming to the military events and he would sometimes show up out of the blue without saying he would actually attend. Social events weren’t really his forte, but he did try. 

A waiter lowered a tray of champagne glasses filled with prosecco, Johnny grabbing two glasses– one for you and one for him. Gaz had walked off to meet other people, leaving you and Johnny alone at the front of the venue. You hadn’t consumed a lick of alcohol in a while, only a half a glass in and you were feeling the warmth wash over your body. You had to be careful not to drink too much though with having to breastfeed. Any milk you pumped tonight would only be stored away for milk baths but you also had to think about feeding the baby straight from the breast as that’s what she preferred. 

Once you were done, Johnny took the empty glass and placed it on an unoccupied table, his hand enveloping around yours to pull you to the dance floor. Your body was buzzing pleasantly as he wrapped your arms around his shoulders, his hands holding onto your waist gingerly. He smelled so wonderful– like sandalwood and musk. The light jazz music that played was the perfect speed to just sway along to. Those lovely blue eyes never left yours, your chin tilted upwards while the smile you had on your face was making your cheeks hurt. 

“You’re beautiful,” he lowered his mouth to your ear, a giggle escaping your lips. 

John didn’t plan on going to the ball at first as he dreaded having to be social recently, but here he was, Gaz by his side with a glass of whiskey, and a glass of scotch clutched in his own hand. The young Sergeant had been buzzed for some time, often scurrying off to say “hello” to other ball-goers. If he had any more to drink, John may have to keep him on a short leash and maybe even bring him home before the night is over. It was rather funny though, as he became more goofy and light-hearted, which definitely brightened up the mood John was in. 

The older man takes a sip from his glass, the burn that coated his throat was smooth– unlike the whiskey Gaz had taken a liking to, which made John scrunch his nose and cough, prompting him to stick with the scotch for the evening. Gaz swayed in place to the music, a hand stuffed in his pocket, “you know, sir, I think you would be happy to hear that there’s a familiar face floating around the venue,” Gaz speaks up finally. 

“Oh?” John lifts the glass back up to his mouth to take another sip. 

“Yeah, she’s with Soap– looked real lovely in that green dress.”

“Is it that crazy ex of his?” John was surprised, knowing damn well that Soap was miserable as hell with that woman, “why the hell would he get back with her?”

“No, that’s not who I’m speaking of,” Gaz shakes his head, a goofy laugh erupting from his mouth, “oh, I see them!” He points his glass towards the dance floor. 

Then he saw you– his Pup. His beautiful and glowing Pup. The scotch he was trying to swallow stuck in his throat– like he had forgotten how to drink for a moment. You were pressed so snugly against Soap’s body that it made his body burn with jealousy. How did that fucker manage to finally grow the balls to ask you out after all of these years? You made it clear as day to John that you weren’t interested in the man, so why were you here with him, smiling up at him and red-cheeked like a little school girl with her crush?

Downing the rest of his scotch, he then stormed off to find the bar, leaving a bewildered Gaz behind. He was pissed, no– infuriated. If you were here with him, that meant he most likely picked you up at your house, and even saw the baby– no man would be stupid enough to meet his date at the venue. Jealousy ran hot through his veins as he slams the glass on the bar, the bartender looking up at him surprised. 

“You alright, sir?” 

“Just give me another scotch,” John’s eyebrows were knitted in anger as he plops himself down in an empty bar stool, his fingers combing through his hair. 

John stole looks of you, his eyes peering over his shoulder to see you dance with Soap for what seemed like forever, you two only stopping long enough between songs to take sips of your drinks and catch your breath. That lovely green gown you wore hugged every curve so snugly, it made his pants uncomfortably tight. Becoming a mother had done wonders to your body– your hardened muscles from being in the SAS had become more plush, your breasts more full and that keyhole in the front of your chest accentuated them even more. Jesus, he needed to get a grip. 

“Hey, could I get a bottle of water please?” That familiar Scottish accent filled John’s ears, the male leaning over the bar. 

It had gotten late, and Johnny had done enough research to know that a woman who was breastfeeding needed to keep hydrated, and you were also due for a pumping session soon before you experienced a leak. The barkeep handed a bottle of water to Johnny, the man turning around to go back over to your spot near the dancefloor. 

“Captain, I didn’t think you’d be here tonight,” Johnny’s surprise makes Price’s face visibly contort into a scowl and in that moment, Johnny knew that Price saw you– with him as his date nonetheless. 

Price thought about his words carefully, his body leaning back in the stool, “having fun tonight, Soap?” he asks, bringing the lip of his glass to his mouth to take a sip. 

“Hey Suds, I’m about to head to the car–,” you hurry over to Johnny’s spot at the bar, heels clicking against the tile floor, placing a hand on his arm when you finally reach him. 

Oh shit. 

You stared for way too long, those baby blue eyes burning holes into you, the prolonged eye contact freezing you in place– you were terrified as his angry gaze fixated on you. Your heart was racing faster than you could process, the liquor that warmed your belly and gave you a pleasant buzz was no longer coursing through you. You are completely sober now, all from fear and surprise. Johnny’s arm wrapped around your shoulder, attempting to remove you from the situation. But those fucking eyes– just like your little girl’s, were like Medusa’s gaze, turning you to stone. 

“Shit–,” was all Johnny could say as he noticed the front side of your dress become soaked through. 

Thoughts of your little girl and her beautiful blue eyes had caused you to have a let down right in front of the man who put that very baby inside you– the man you hadn’t said a word to in almost a year. Tugging you away and walking you towards the entrance of the venue, Johnny had placed his suit jacket over your shoulders to hide the very obvious wet stains on your dress. He felt horrible that you had to run into Price like that– completely unprepared, like a deer watching the headlights of a car inching closer and closer. 

In the car, you had completely broken down, your makeup running down your face, the pump attached to you and expressing milk. One arm covered your breasts while the other wiped furiously at the tears barrelling down your cheeks. Johnny was settled in the front seat, quiet as a mouse and regretting bringing you out. 

“It’s not your fault Johnny,” you managed to say between sobs. 

“It’s completely my fault, I should have known better than to bring you back into your old life.”

“You didn’t know–,” you hiccup, your stomach doing cartwheels– twisting uncomfortably with anxiety. 

“I know he’s the baby’s father,” Johnny finally says after a moment, “I put two and two together–”

“He left me to figure things out on my own, so I did– I did this all by myself because I wanted to. He was too scared of what may follow him if he was involved so here I am,” the words just flew out of your mouth– like word vomit. 

Johnny placed his hands over his face, a sigh escaping his lips. He didn’t know how to fix this, he didn’t know what to say to make you feel better. He felt like a moron– a moron who was head over heels with you, a woman who was still helplessly in love with her baby’s father. How could he compete with his Captain? The man who had become like his mentor over the years– who taught him how to snipe and suggested he specialize in demolitions. He was more than sure he would be kicked from the Task Force now– if it were still a thing at this very moment. 

Johnny could hear the quiet motor of the breast pump stop, and your frantic sobs and hiccups had died down. It broke his heart hearing you and seeing you in such a state as he hadn’t experienced you cry like this before. It was wrong of Price to give you such nasty looks, he didn’t even care that Price had given him those same looks, but he could have saved you from such an intense breakdown if he just kept it solely on Johnny. 

For a moment, Johnny thought he was losing his mind, but when your nails began digging into his chest from gripping his shirt so tightly, he realized that you were hugging him from the backseat, your elbow resting on his chest. Your hand let go of his white dress shirt, moving to grab his chin and angle his head far enough to the side where you could reach. You kissed his cheek, whispering: “thank you for taking me out tonight,” your sweet, warm breath fanning against the side of his face. 

“I’m glad you agreed to come out with my sorry self.”

“Give me some time, okay?” You ask him, his head nodding quickly in response. 

“I have all the time in the world,” Johnny smiles, his hand grasping your smaller one, the one that rested on his chin. 

John had gone home right after you and Johnny had pulled out of the parking lot, his eyes never leaving the black Audi he owned until it was completely out of his sight. His drive home was completely silent, fingers clutching his steering wheel so tightly that his knuckles turned white. He wanted to scream, to let go of the fury he felt in the pit of his belly. He shouldn’t have left Gaz behind but he just needed to leave before he did something he regretted. It wasn’t so much as John disapproving of you and Johnny, it was more so the fact that you had kept Johnny in the friend zone for so long because you had no interest in seeing him in a romantic way. But the chemistry between you both was undeniable– your eyes staring up into his eyes during those dances made him think of the times you would lovingly look into his own. Your pretty eyes were so easy to get lost in. 

He should never have looked at you like that– the utter fear that glazed over your eyes and body language was enough to shatter his heart into splinters. Regret was heavy on his brain as he never meant to make you feel those emotions, especially not enough to make you not realize your own let down reflex and your dress becoming soaked through.

[sebastiansallcw]

Hi! Could I request an Ominis fic where you’re his date for the Yule ball? Absolutely no pressure by the way <3

an: obviously this is my first request for ominis, let alone in general. i hope this is okay and you enjoy. please feel free to send more or any advice to make it more ~Ominis~. thank you for requesting as well <3 wc: 1006 warnings: just fluff and sweetness

When Ominis asked Y/N to accompany him to the Yule Ball, she was taken aback and thrilled at the same time. Despite sharing classes and partnering up in potions and divination, she never considered that Ominis saw her as more than just a fellow student.

As the date of the event approached, Sebastian's teasing of Ominis intensified. Ominis tried to suppress his feelings for Y/N, aware of the endless ribbing he would receive from Sebastian and Anne. However, his crush on Y/N seemed to blossom from nowhere. One day, Y/N walked into class smelling of peppermint and that was when Ominis started to think of her more often.

Anytime he smelt peppermint, he instantly thought of her and what she would be doing. Maybe she was in the library with her friends, or adventuring out into Hogsmeade (he did overhear her gushing about a scarf at Gladrags).

Or maybe it was when her hand brushed against his as they both reached for a glass jar. He recoiled quickly, almost regretting his brash decision. She felt warm against his cool skin. She quickly muttered an apology before continuing with her craft. He noticed how sweet she was to him and patient, especially in rare cases his wand misguided him. 

Y/N admired his soft movements, maybe not soft, but every flick of his wand was executed with care and precision, as if each movement held a critical significance. He was intentional in his actions, avoiding any missteps or sloppiness in his spellwork. He knew she was staring the majority of the time, but he enjoyed being admired by someone. 

Ominis found himself increasingly drawn to Y/N. He couldn't shake the thought of her sweet scent, her smile that lit up the room, and her intelligence that left him in awe. He found himself eagerly anticipating their classes together and the conversations they shared. Sebastian teased Ominis that his cloudy days were clearing up–he didn’t seem so pessimistic anymore, or at least the days where he’d partner beside Y/N. 

Ominis leaned against the stone wall, waiting patiently for Y/N to arrive at the agreed-upon meeting spot. Ominis wore a sleek black ensemble accented with rich emerald green. The sound of students entering the ball echoed around him, filled with excitement and nervous energy. He could hear couples giggling as they linked arms, and the hushed whispers of others discussing the appearance of their fellow students. 

Sebastian stood by his friend's side, offering his support as they waited for Y/N's arrival. Despite his confidence in Y/N's character, he couldn't shake the nagging fear that she might not show up. He had heard rumors of cruel pranks being played on students during the Yule Ball, and he didn't want Ominis to be left standing alone. 

And then, she was there. Sebastian nudged Ominis, "If you could see her right now..."

"Don't even think about it, Sallow," Ominis replied, but Sebastian was already turning him to face her. He watched as she descended the stairs, her dress flowing behind her like a river of silk. The scent of peppermint filled the air, reminding Ominis of the first day he began to see her as more than just a classmate.

Y/N's smile lit up her face as she saw Ominis, and she waved to Sebastian before he gave Ominis a pat on the shoulder and disappeared inside. "You're looking quite handsome," she complimented. "But your tie, it's a bit crooked. Do you mind?" she asked, reaching out to straighten it.

Ominis couldn't help but feel the warmth of her touch, sending shivers down his spine. He felt like he was on cloud nine as she adjusted his tie, and he couldn't help but feel the close proximity between them made his heart race.

"There we go," she said with a grin, and Ominis could only nod in agreement. "Are you ready to go inside?" she asked.

"More than ever," he replied, and they made their way inside, hand in hand. The beginning of the dance was a little awkward, with their hands barely brushing against each other, but it felt intentional to Ominis. As Y/N nervously tapped her foot, he found himself reaching out to comfort her, squeezing her thigh.

Her cheeks flushed at his touch, and Ominis felt a rush of excitement. As more students began to dance, he stood up and held out his hand, inviting her to dance with him. They stepped onto the floor, and Ominis was lost in the moment. He relished the feeling of her hand in his, the texture of her dress, and the occasional squeeze she gave while they danced together. 

“Those dancing classes really helped me. I’m glad I’m not stepping on your feet.” She confessed. 

"I knew it," Ominis said, grinning. "You have such an elegant way of moving and a refined touch in everything you do. I'm not surprised that the dancing classes have helped you ."

He then added, "And don't worry about stepping on my feet. I trust your moves and I'm having a great time with you."

Y/N smiled, feeling a flutter in her stomach at his words. "Thank you, I try my best. I couldn't imagine making a fool of myself on the dance floor." she replied.

Y/N felt her cheeks flush with pride, grateful for the compliment. She smiled back at Ominis, and the two continued to dance, lost in the rhythm of the music and each other's company.

As they twirled on the dance floor, surrounded by the merrymaking of their classmates, they both felt a sense of blissful peace. The world seemed to fade away, leaving just the two of them, lost in each other's touch. 

Ominis leaned in, close enough that Y/N could feel his breath on her cheek. "I'm so glad you agreed to come with me tonight," he whispered.

"I'm glad too," she replied, her voice barely above a whisper.

[mr-clow]

Kal’Hal notes on a human ship. Part 2:

Laffite woke up a few moments earlier than her alarm told her to. She rolled around the bed for a while, thinking about yesterday's events and stretching her torso. She felt the air going out between her ribs. Kal’Hals had evolved from an aquatic world, and they could breathe water or air, their gills having evolved into pseudo lungs, their hands with palmed fingers and a powerful tail connected where humans would have legs. Her big blue eyes with no white to sight, something that humans had and still looked weird to her, panned the room, and she saw a small package on the floor in front of the door. She unrolled her tail and with the full length of it she reached the box and put it on her bed…

I opened the box, inside the first I saw was a colourful paper with some kind of human animal that was saying get well soon. I looked kinda cute, but I didn’t get any reference if there was any and Mag had signed it. Below I found a card with a clip attached to a paper that explained that is a long term sensor to check the radiation received and that humans use it when they work in radioactive environments (They really work in radioactive places!) and also below there were some pills. The paper explained that it was something humans used in case they got poisoned, but I should check if Potassium Iodide was bad for my health, something even I didn’t know. Below all that I found a small device that I recognized, it was a radiation sensor. Maggie really tried and I was glad.

I had met humans before, even if a lot of other species treated them as wild dangerous creatures, Kal’Hal knew better. Both species had an early relationship and for more than a thousand human cycles they had been supporting each other. Humans could be extremely loyal given the same treatment, and that didn’t include their pack bond. I have never been included in a human pack, but some people said that there was no safer place in the universe than being included and surrounded by a human pack. I wondered if this box was only a form of respect, or if it was a sign that they had started to include me in their pack.

After that, I took the time to moisturise my skin and change my clothes, my world was way more humid than earth and I needed to keep myself healthy. After that I took the things from the box, read the instructions again and searched about those pills on my way to the mess hall.

When I reached the mess hall my face was showing quite the concern, those pills could shut down several of my organs, technically I had a blister of poison in my hand. Maggie waved a hand, she was having breakfast with Bill who was in charge of the engineering department, Rose and Raúl, both of them colleagues also from the same department. I waved back, took a tray and served myself some food. Most leaves from the human world, some processed seeds and various teas were fit for my consumption, so I chose peppermint tea and a light salad. Most humans wouldn’t eat this at this hour, but the cook knew my taste, so I gave him a nod and an imitation of a smile, he smiled back, and I went to sit with Maggie.

Maggie asked how I was, and I explained that I still felt uncomfortable, but I was willing to give it a try and thank her for all the things she got me. Bill explained that everyone room in the engineering department had helped and that they had asked in the Med bay for the pills. My face turned with worry and Raúl asked what happened. I took the time to explain that iodine was poisonous to a lot of species and turned back the pills. They apologised, and then the conversation turned to other things from work, and I felt relaxed. Maybe they were starting to include me in their pack.

I went back to help Maggie assemble the reactor we were working on the last day. The job hasn’t advanced too much, but I noticed some tools that weren’t here yesterday. “Maggie, why did you bring all this?” While I checked a welding equipment that I haven’t seen before. “Yesterday, after I left the box in your room, I came back here and checked all the boltholes and filled the ones that had more diameter than they should. You shouldn’t worry any more for this” Her face had a smile but with an expression I didn’t knew. “Thanks Maggie, I appreciate all this. Anyways the sensor you gave me didn’t go off even in here, so I’m starting to feel more secure” I took the sensor from my belt and showed it to her. “Ehhh Laff, I don’t want to scare you, but you checked that it was set to your standards? It is really sensitive, but you have to program it” I looked at her, then at the sensor, and it was true, the threshold was set to 1mSv, lower than a human needs it but higher than I was comfortable. I changed it and when I pressed OK the sensor went off automatically. I looked at her worried and she took my hand and led me outside. “How low did you set it, Laff?” She asked with a worried look on her face. “Not too low, only 0.01mSv” and she put the same smile from before, “Oh hon, that won't do. Why don’t you try 0.4mSv at least, remember what I said yesterday. Earth is slightly radioactive, humans are, and this ship also is human made. Nobody got hurt before with even more than that, so let's try that.” I nodded slowly, I didn’t like it, but I knew she was right and changed the alarm. It stopped, and I exhaled, she took my hand again, and slowly we went inside the room, it didn’t sound again.

All that day I was distracted, but Maggie chatted as usual, and she gave me some simpler tasks, so I could entertain myself. At the end of the shift I went out to the mess hall with Maggie and when we sat down I looked at her and Bill “Yesterday you told me that humans knew how much radiation makes you sick, it’s that true?” Bill and Maggie looked at me with a serious face. Bill took a breath to start speaking, but Maggie spoke first. “Look Laff, we are not proud of explaining this to you, but I consider you my friend and I think it is fair to explain you some of our history”

[witchybitchy222]

Azriel x Reader | Satisfaction Part 3

Alright y’all here it is! The third and final part to satisfaction! I hope you all like it! I know I asked in part 2 and some of you said smut from Az’s POV buttt it just didn’t flow well that way. I’m sorry! Send me any requests you have and as always, thanks for the support! 🫶🏻

WARNINGS: smut, oral both female and male receiving, rough sex, mentions of blood, 18+

——————————————————————————

It was already bright as you opened your eyes, the first rays of the early morning sun were breaking over the mountains and streaming in through your curtains. You sat up with a stretch, rubbing the sleep from your eyes and the events of the night before came rushing back to you.

You’d told Azriel, no not just Azriel, the entire inner circle, that you fantasized about him. And not just that, you were also about 90% sure you’d called him pretty before he left your room.

You threw yourself back on the pillows with a groan, swearing you were never drinking again. Embarrassed wasn’t a strong enough word for how you were feeling right now.

You picked yourself up and got dressed. You were brushing your teeth and desperately trying not to think about how you were going to have to face Azriel in less than an hour, when there was a knock at your door.

You froze in place, your anxious brain telling you it must be Azriel there to tell you to stay far, far away from him.

“Y/N! Open up!” Nesta’s voice flowed in, muffled through the wooden door.

You sighed, pulling the door open for your friend.

“Hey, Cass sent me to see if you were coming to training, or if you were too hungover.”

“Don’t act all friendly like I’ll just forget you made me spill a huge secret last night.” You accused, plopping down on your bed as Nesta followed you inside.

Your friend sighed and sat down next to you.

“Don’t be mad at me, there’s no way he doesn’t know you’re into him. I mean, neither of you are exactly subtle about it.”

“Neither of us?” You asked, eyebrows furrowing

“Oh don’t act like the two of you haven’t been dancing around the subject for ages now. Hells, I’ve only been here a few years and I see it.”

“Azriel isn’t interested in me Nes. And that’s okay. I just really hope I didn’t ruin our friendship over something so stupid.” Nesta put an arm around your shoulder.

“If you honestly think he doesn’t feel the same then I’m sorry. But you know Az! Even if he isn’t into you at all, he’d never make it weird. Azriel is nothing if not a kind male. He’d take you aside and let you know he isn’t interested but still wants to be friends. I mean, that’s what he did with Gwyn.” She shrugged.

Your head shot up, “Gwyn had a thing for Azriel??”

“Uh, yeah. Massive crush. But after some self- reflection she realized she was only interested in him because he was the first male to show her kindness after her attack.”

You sat in silence for a moment. Maybe Nesta was right. Azriel was kind. And what’s the worst that could happen? You’d already embarrassed yourself, it couldn’t get much more humiliating than this.

You took a deep breath, asked your friend to braid your hair, and put on your leathers.

You found Azriel first thing, nervously asking if you could talk to him before everyone got started. He gave you a short nod and followed you to the edge of the roof.

“So,” you sighed, wringing your hands. “I just wanted to say I’m sorry about how I acted last night… it was totally not okay to say all of that… stuff… and I’m sorry if I totally creeped you out.”

You made yourself stop fidgeting and bring your eyes to Azriel’s face.

His head was slightly tilted to one side, the only indication of confusion in his stoic demeanor. You mentally cringed at yourself for what felt like the millionth time today, wishing you’d just crawled back into bed this morning.

You started to stutter out another apology when Azriel’s mouth twisted into a smirk.

“Y/N, there’s no need to apologize. It was a game. You were drunk.” He shrugged, turning back toward the ring. “Oh” he started, looking at you over his shoulder, smirk still firmly in place “by the way, I don’t think you’re creepy in the slightest.” The shadowsinger shot you a wink before joining Cassian in stretching.

You were left momentarily stunned. Was Azriel… flirting with you? Holy shit…. It was so on.

You took a moment to collect yourself before leading your group of priestesses in their warm up stretches. You’d worn an oversized jacket to the training ring this morning, the early chill keeping it cool until the sun fully crested over the mountains. Feeling Azriel’s eyes on you from across the roof, you shed your jacket, stretching in the early morning sun, leaving you in your tight scoop neck tank top, the curve of your breasts exposed, and your Illyrian leather pants, daggers strapped to each thigh, material clinging to every curve. You looked over your shoulder at the shadowsinger and shot him a grin.

This game was fun. And you were good at it, your confidence soaring each time you felt Azriel’s eyes on you as you trained. You made sure to bend over more than necessary, giving him a view of your ass each time, winking when you caught him staring. For nearly 45 minutes you kept half your attention on your teaching and the other half on teasing Azriel.

As you wrapped up your defense lesson for the day, Cassian jogged across the ring, waving at you as he approached.

“Hey!” He called, “you still wanna do that self defense demonstration?”

You nodded, eyes sliding to Azriel, an idea forming. “For sure! Tell Az I need him to be my partner.”

“Alright” Cassian grinned as he situated the priestesses around the center ring.

You squared up with Azriel, a smirk on your face.

“Okay,” you clapped, turning to the crowd, “I know it can be intimidating when you’re attacked by a male twice your size” you gestured at the shadowsinger, “but just remember to calm your mind, sometimes being smaller is an advantage.”

You walked back to Azriel, placing your back against his now bare chest, making sure to wiggle your backside against him as he situated his arms around you. He leaned down and growled in your ear “your teasing isn’t funny, Y/N. You have no idea what you’re getting yourself into.” His voice was silky smooth, quiet breath sending shivers down your spine as you took in his words. It was hard to concentrate as you moved through the motions, and the demonstration passed in a daze.

You were grabbing a drink of water and calming your nerves as the priestesses filed out. “Up for a round?” Azriel asked, twirling truth teller in his hand as he smirked at you.

“You’re on, shadowsinger.” You winked, grabbing the daggers from your thighs.

He lunged for you immediately, striking with grace and precision, leaving you only seconds to dodge. You danced around each other, slashing and spinning in a deadly dance, evenly matched until you managed to catch him off guard. He knew you favored your right hand, so you led with it, making to swipe for his throat, while your left hand jabbed at his ribs, dagger hilt-first, landing a blow in precisely the right spot to knock the breath from his lungs. Quick as a cat, your leg shot out, sweeping him off his feet, but as tricky as you’d been, he was just as good, slashing out with truth teller and landing a shallow cut across your exposed chest before pinning you down underneath him.

You were both breathing hard as he stared down at you from above, your daggers still gripped in your hands as he pinned your wrists on either side of your head, his knees settling around your hips.

The look he was giving you was more intense than the fighting that had just taken place, so you were more than shocked when his lips met yours in barely a brush.

You gasped, staring up at him in shock before lifting your head and catching his lips again. He groaned as he leaned into you, kissing you harder. Your lips opened for him, letting him taste you. It was like your brain had short-circuited and all you could think of was him.

You started to lift your arms, wanting to reach up and pull him closer, but quickly realized your wrists were still pinned down. You whined in frustration and he pulled away, chuckling at you.

“I want to touch you.” You breathed, and he let out a groan “you’re gonna be the death of me.” Azriel’s eyes scanned your face before settling on the now healing cut across your chest. His eyebrows furrowed in confusion as if he’d just noticed his knife had actually made contact.

He brought his eyes back to yours before leaning down and kissing your jaw, down your neck to the scratch his blade had made before dragging his tongue across it, licking up the blood as his eyes bore into yours. You let out an unabashed moan as arousal began to pool in your core, imagining his tongue all over your body.

He released your wrists and you immediately dropped your daggers, hands flying to his hair to pull him back in for a kiss.

Shadows enveloped you and a moment later your back was hitting the soft surface of what must’ve been Azriel’s bed.

He sat back and looked at you, “is this okay?” He asked, and you grinned in response, locking your legs around his waist and pulling him against you again.

He laughed and went back to kissing your neck, his hands wandering up and down the curves of your sides. You threw your head back to give him better access as you drug your hands down his chest, feeling every inch of defined muscles.

Azriel’s hands slid under your top and you sat up, pulling it over your head and exposing your breasts to him.

He stared for a moment, rough hands lightly tracing your chest and torso. You grabbed his wrist, bringing his palm to your mouth and planting a kiss in the middle, hoping to erase any hesitation. He gave you a small smile before dipping his head down and attaching his mouth to your right breast, licking and sucking on your nipple. You moaned at the sensation, his hand squeezing your other breast before switching.

Azriel kissed down your body, stopping at your hip bones to lick and suck marks on the sensitive spots. He pulled down your pants, underwear leaving with them, and groaned at the sight of how wet you’d gotten.

His big hands gripped your thighs, slowly spreading them apart, kissing up each side and stopping just before your core. You wiggled your hips, trying to get him to move closer. He took one finger and drug it up through your folds, bringing it to his mouth and sucking off the juices with a moan. You could’ve come undone at the sight.

Azriel spread your legs wider and dove in. Attaching his mouth to your aching pussy, licking and sucking like a man starved. Your back arched off the bed, hands shooting to his hair to pull him impossibly closer, eyes rolling back in your head.

He slid a finger inside you, curling and pumping it inside, hitting just the right spot that had you grinding down on his face, wanting more. He quickly inserted a second finger, nipping at your clit and making you see stars. Soon you were coming, grinding onto his mouth as his fingers pumped you through until your legs stopped shaking and you collapsed on the bed, breathing hard.

Azriel slunk up your body, planting a hungry kiss on your lips. You kissed him back with fervor, wrapping your legs around his waist and using your thighs to flip him over.

You sat up on top of him, admiring how sinfully beautiful he looked, eyes lidded with lust, full lips swollen, and wings splayed behind him.

You slid off of him, hands working to remove his pants. He lifted his hips and his cock finally sprang free. You practically salivated at the sight. Feeling no shame in how wet you got just by looking at him. He was big, thick and long, and pulsing with arousal, precum resting at the tip.

Azriel made to sit up and you gently pushed him down, sliding your body down until your mouth was poised above his cock. “It’s my turn to taste you.” You stared into his eyes as you wrapped your mouth around him, taking him in all the way to the back of your throat, gagging on the length of him. He let out a delightful moan as the tip hit the back of your throat, your hand wrapping around what wouldn’t fit inside you.

You began to move, sucking and stroking in time, swirling your tongue around the tip before taking as much of him as you could back down your throat. His hands flew to your hair, tugging at it as his hips began to thrust up into your mouth.

Your eyes were watering when he gently pulled you off, breathing heavy as you wiped the spit and precum from your mouth, licking your lips to get a taste of him. “I want to cum inside you.” He looked into your eyes before switching your positions.

Azriel lined himself up with your dripping sex, slowly pushing in, both of you moaning at the feeling. Your pussy stretched to accommodate every inch of his thick cock, filling you to the brim.

Your eyes rolled back in your head as he bottomed out, the tip of him hitting you in just the right way. You thought you’d been completely blissed out until he started moving, slowly at first and then quicker with each thrust, pushing into you hard enough to make the bed rock. Your nails raked at his shoulders as you moaned uncontrollably.

Azriel leaned down, mouth attaching to the spot between your neck and shoulder, biting and sucking enough to bruise. You lifted one hand up, lightly running your fingers along the edge of his wing. His hips stuttered and he growled into your shoulder.

In an instant he was pulling out of you, you didn’t even have time to whine at the lost contact before he flipped you over and slammed into you from behind.

You let out a scream as he grabbed your braid, wrapping it around his hand and pulling your head back as he relentlessly fucked into you. His other hand came around to rub your clit and you were thrown into a mind-blowing orgasm. You were shaking and crying as Azriel continued to fuck you.

Your pussy clenched around him and he came undone quickly after you, pumping his cum inside you before pulling out and collapsing on the bed next to you.

You both laid there for moment, staring at each other in shock and catching your breath.

“Wow.” Azriel breathed, looking at you like you were the most incredible thing he’d ever seen. You could only nod in agreement.

“Y/N…” he reached out, letting his hand fall to the open space between you, eyebrows furrowing.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” You grabbed his hand, placing it on your cheek.

“Nothing could be wrong after that.” He laughed, “it’s just, I feel like I should let you know that as amazing as that was… I don’t want this to just be sex. I have… deeper feelings for you. And if you don’t feel the same that’s okay and I’ll respect your boundaries, but if sex is all this is to you I think we should stop here. It would be hard enough to keep myself away from you now, let alone if we do this again.”

You were stunned. Only this morning had you even let yourself think this male MIGHT be attracted to you, and here he was saying he had feelings for you? You felt like the luckiest female alive.

You smiled at him. “I have feelings for you too… I think we should see where this goes.” He grinned back and pulled you to his chest.

You lay there for a while, Azriel’s hand in your hair, the other wrapped around your waist as you listened to his heartbeat.

“So,” he began, the smirk evident in his voice, “did I cure your sexual frustration?”

You laughed, having completely forgotten about Ian and your crappy date. “I can honestly say I and 100% satisfied.”

——————————————————————————

Taglist: @chaoticpizzalawyerbiscuit @ruler-of-hades @cosmic-whispers @brekkershadowsinger @azriel-luvr @humanpersonlasttimeichecked @thesillyyogourt @a-little-disguised @hanasakr @morrie-rose @lahoete @orangecomfortfoods @safetypinxtales

@articulatecrow

[radiowallet]

Meant to Be - Epilogue

The Endearment

Pairing: Oberyn Martell x Fem!OC (nameless, third person), Oberyn Martell x Ellaria Sand, Ellaria Sand x Fem!OC (nameless, third person) Summary: Time marches on. WC: 1.5K Warnings: 18+ MDNI Canon-typical violence, grief, death, political intrigue, arranged marriage, soulmate shenanigans, drinking, the barest hints of pregnancy, female on female dynamics, oral sex (female receiving). Oberyn Martell comes with his own warning.

A/N: This is it! The last chapter! I'm surprisingly emotional for this one to end and I really can't explain it. Please look to the end for more notes. As always, a few things to keep in mind: This is an alternate universe that takes place after the main events of the show. Bran is still king of Westeros. Sansa is still queen of the north. Oberyn lives. Doran never had any children. Our Fem!OC is from Winterfell, but she is not a Stark and is a blank canvas physically.

To be alerted of new writing, please follow @radiowallet-writes and turn on notifications.

~~Please see dedications at the end~~

Masterlist II Series Masterlist

Part 5 <<<

Endearing and sweet

Mine and yours

I hold your kiss on my lips

And my heart in your hands

Time is not always enough to heal. Some wounds are too deep, muscle and bone and blood unable to grow again over the gaping pain of loss. A sister and brother taken too soon are always a lingering scab across Oberyn Martell’s heart, and on the worst of days those wounds break open, and the treacherous concept of time starts all over. 

But it does lend itself well to building something new. Sometimes something unexpected. 

Oberyn leans back in his chair, head tilting to rest along the high back, crossing his legs and casting an eye out of the wide window framing the great hall, noting the position of the sun. Morning is nearly over, and despite his requests from the meeting the day prior, this council meeting is decidedly not. He sighs, loudly, before reaching for his cup, chasing his annoyance with a heavy slurp of wine. 

“And with this year’s tax revenu—“

“I do believe,” he nearly shouts, trying and failing not to slam his cup down, “we went over these numbers just yesterday, is this not correct, Lord Daemon?”

The other man tries and fails to hide his fear, looking up from the scroll spread open in front of him and immediately shrinking back in his chair. “I think there may have been some o-overlap in our agendas, my lord.”

“This entire meeting has been nothing but overlap,” Oberyn continues, his demeanor shifting from bored to deadly in the blink of an eye.

“It felt prudent. His lordship will be gone for some time and we wanted to be prepared.”

Oberyn stands then, the legs of his chair scraping loudly across the floor, and he delights in the wave of discomfort that filters through his council. 

“Let us consider you all prepared. My wife is waiting for me.” 

He pays no mind to the raise of voices, the members of his council clearly convinced no good could come from his absence. Oberyn was nonplussed, ignoring their outcry as he made his way back to his quarters. She truly was waiting for him, and he was eager to be back at her side. 

The visit north he had promised had been put on hold after Doran’s passing, the task of assuming his duties as Lord of Sunspear much more insistent upon his time than he cared for. She had handled the news with the same grace and duty he had come to know and love, standing at his side through it all. He could see now why Sansa Stark valued her friendship along with her support, and it was just another way he counted himself grateful that all manners of fate and choice brought them together. 

Things were settled now, the transition from one brother to the next complete. The strength of Dorne held true, unbroken and unbent, the sandy shores living on in peace. Oberyn felt more secure in the standing of his homeland, and though he did not relish the drop in temperature, he was pleased that he was finally making good on this one promise. 

Trunks were packed and loaded into the carriage, all manner of cloaks and fur lined fabrics stored safely away for the trip. Oberyn’s wardrobe had been distinctly lacking in that regard, but she was quick to a solution, the palace dressmakers tasked with her very specific requests.  

He had snapped his teeth at the idea of it — heavy fabric and brass buttons, his coat cinched tight around his waist and up the column of his throat. But she somehow found a way to turn his eye, standing behind him as the finishing touches were made on a rich red cloak. He cut an imposing figure, the shade almost violent, the symbol of Sunspear stitched into the fabric. 

He could feel her smile burning with pride as she brushed her hands along the wide expanse of his shoulders, her artistic fingers sending shivers down his spine. 

“The color is a bit unorthodox for northern customs,” he had teased, even as he preened before the mirror, back straightening and chest puffing out. She took his tone in stride, lips pressing hot and wet just behind his ear, her hungry eyes glued to his in the looking glass. 

“We do not see many vipers in the North. Allow me to present mine as I see fit.”

Oberyn moves his feet a touch faster, the memory of that day spurring him on. They had dismissed the seamstress with barely a glance, too busy stripping one another bare, and laying down together across the ruby red fabric. Oberyn can still feel the press of her lips as she whispered all the ways she intended to keep him warm between the stone walls of Winterfell as he fucked into her tight heat. 

Their union had strengthened ten fold over the passing months, even as the responsibilities of leadership came to rest upon their shoulders. Her mark upon him had spread easily, complimenting him but never changing. Everywhere he looked he could see her imprint upon his life. Her own throne beside his, her paintings hung on the walls, her moans painting their sheets. 

And in kind, she carries his marks with the same glow of pride. Books of poetry littered her desk, plum wine stained her lips, little pieces of himself left behind in her heart. 

True to their promises all that time ago, he was free to seek out time and pleasure on his own, but he found he preferred it best when she or Ellaria joined him. He still remembers with a spiteful sense of glee how members of his council had mentioned seeing the Lord and Lady of Sunspear walk arm and arm into one of the more luxurious bathhouses. 

It seemed the fates knew a thing or two, gifting him a match with just as voracious an appetite. 

But more and more he found himself content to remain closer to home, his bed there as full as his heart. It’s overly sentimental and he rolls his eyes at it all on his own, but it does not stop his heart from picking up speed when he reaches the door of their chambers. 

The sight that greets him on the other side is not exactly that of a woman who had assured him she would be ready to leave upon his return. 

But he cannot find it in himself to be vexed. 

Not when what he sees is so stunning. 

His soul’s match is laying back amongst the plush dressings of their bed, her body bare and her legs spread wide. She’s twisting back and forth, eyes closed and lips parted, begging for more more more in a way that his own groan slipping out to join her own, the unforgiving leather of his britches suddenly too tight. 

Ellaria is a generous lover, quick to meet his wife’s request and Oberyn steps closer just as one of her elegant fingers slides up inside her fluttering entrance, her lips never breaking away from that beautiful bundle of nerves.

It had been a natural progression, the two of them finding their way to each other. It was as seamless as two people walking together, their arms locked, and fingers laced, until finally they moved together as one, sides pressed together and cheeks on shoulders, closer than close and a sight to be held. 

Oberyn feels a foolish man for ever thinking there was a choice to be made. 

He does not go unnoticed for long, her eyelashes fluttering open, feverish eyes finding him and he is quick to move to her side, cupping the curve of her cheek in his palm. 

“Am I to assume we will be leaving late?” 

She smiles for him, nuzzling into his touch, but all words are stolen by Ellaria’s own lips pulling away. 

“Do not be mad at her, my love. We were restless and she looked so beautiful in the bath. I could not help myself.” 

Oberyn hums in agreement, letting his fingers trail down the column of her neck, squeezing gently, just enough to feel the gasp as it leaves her. He holds her gaze as his touch moves further down, up and over the peak of her breast until his hand rests along the slight swell of her belly, just starting to show with the promise of new life. 

“You are right as alway, my paramour. Our little wolf can be so hard to resist.” 

“Will you join us?” Ellaria asks the question sweetly, each word coated in honey, her dark eyes watching from where she rests her cheek along her thigh, two fingers now moving slowly in and out of her cunt. “Or must we leave her so unsatisfied?”

He smirks down at the two of them, before making a show of untying his robe and letting it fall to the floor. He could play coy, and insist they leave at once, but he knows there would be little use in denying either of them anything. 

He lets the last of his clothing fall away before he slides into bed beside her, his hand drifting low enough to join Ellaria’s, her cries for more finally answered. 

“I suppose not,” he murmurs, before pressing his lips to hers, always eager for the taste of her kiss. 

A taste he thought he had only dreamed.

———

A/N: If you told me my bingo card for the end of 2022 had writing a Game of Thrones fanfic, I do not think I would believe you. But I am so proud of myself for stepping out of my comfort zone, for trying out tropes that I don't normally seek out, and for taking on a new writing style in the fanfic space. I feel like I learned a lot in this process and I think I grew as a writer. I have had so much fun and trust me, this is a world I could see myself revisiting if the right prompt or request tickled my fancy. 🖤

Dedications: I have said this many times before, but it remains true: stories like this do not happen in a vacuum. I am so very grateful for the community here that has supported me through this and all of my writing. To every reader out there, thank you! Endlessly! Your support means more to me than I will ever be able to coherently explain.

To my dearest @astroboots who didn't blink an eye when I started spouting nonsense about Oberyn and arranged marriages and soulmates, she simply replied "Write it." You never let me think I can't do anything I set my sights on, and I love you.

To @magpie-to-the-morning who supported all of my love for this cheeky prince and who I sent blocks of smut to completely unprompted. You took it all in stride and begged me for more and your enthusiasm made me feel higher than high! Thank you so much!

And to my wonderful wife and Ellaria Sand's biggest fan @jazzelsaur You read every chapter. You listened to GoT facts you never thought you would learn. You laughed with me and and encouraged me and helped push me to make this story better than I ever thought it could be. I love you and I would be lost without you.

[the-blind-assassin-12]

Quiet & Still

1200 words for 1200 followers #10

A/N: Hi friends! Welcome to the 12-A-Palooza! This event is my way of saying thank you for sticking with me. Your support and kindness toward me and my writing is out of this world and I’m grateful for every last one of you! This one is one of the first requests that I received for this event, and it went through quite a few iterations before I landed on this plot, but I'm happy with how it turned out. The song is about not being able to put feelings into writing - something I am all too familiar with - and also about how sometimes when you fall in love it's not this big, magic noticeable moment but a series of smaller ones that add up to a simple realization. And simple is perfect for Din because his life is complicated enough. This is a one-shot that is not connected to anything else I have written, and I hope you enjoy!

Warnings: a little bit of mild angst but this one is honestly very tame.

Requested by: Anonymous Song: My Love Character choice: Din Djarin. Thank you so much for sending this in, whoever you are! This one was a very fun challenge for me. Pairing such a dance bop with the tin can man was bold and I like your style. I hope you like what I've done with it!

Summary: As the singer in a Mos Eisley cantina you've seen your fair share of things and known your fair share of people. But you've never been in love. You wouldn't know it if it smacked you in the face. Would you?

“Any chance you’ve got anything new for tonight?” 

You wince in the mirror at Lerna’s question. It’s been weeks since you’ve had any new material, and the reminder, even if it comes in the form of a gently asked question, stirs your anxiety. Your hand falters on the way up to fix the embellishment on your headpiece, and you know it doesn't go unnoticed by Lerna’s sharp eyes. She sees everything. As a cantina owner, she has to. 

You clear your throat as you fix the green gem, laying it flat against your forehead. “Um… Not for tonight, no.” Letting out a breath you turn to face the woman. “But I’m working on some new songs and…” You trail off, unsure of how you intended to finish your sentence when you began it. 

How long can I tell her that I’m working on new music with nothing to show for it? 

Thankfully she doesn’t press you on it before leaving the dressing room. You want to tell Lerna that the regulars who’ve been complaining about hearing the same songs would have nothing to say soon. But the truth is that while you’d spent almost every night of the last month staring at the empty screen of your datapad, willing words to spin themselves into lyrics, none have come to you. Where the light of the moons used to comfort you as you wrote, now it seems only to highlight the fact that more time is passing and you’ve still written nothing. 

You feel your chest tighten as you make the realization. 

Not since Din left. 

You’re suddenly very aware of the way the gem on your headpiece feels against your skin - not like a gem at all, actually, but smooth and light. Like glass. 

You remember the way your eyes had widened when the roguish explorer who claimed to have visited the surface of Mandalore brandished the chunk of engraved metal encrusted in a layer of green crystal. “There are rumors that the planet’s been cursed. Or destroyed. Or poisoned,” the man explained to you one night at the bar after your set was through - as though you hadn’t heard those same rumors from a source that you considered to be much more direct. “But I’ve proven them all false by retrieving this!” He’d laughed, taking a swig of spotchka and sliding the piece in your direction. You remember running your fingers over the grooves of the etched inscription and recognizing the language as Mando’a. You remember the thought that flashed through your mind at that moment. 

It’s the same as the writing on Din’s tattoo. 

You’d run your fingertips over that inscription, too. 

It was a bad idea to sleep with patrons of the cantina. Despite the fact that Lerna ran a tight ship and did her best to keep it relatively free of scum, you never could be too careful when it came to getting close to the people who frequented the place. Smugglers, pirates, outlaws. Bounty Hunters. It was safer for you to keep your distance, to keep the stage between you and them even when you bumped elbows at the bar. But the Mandalorian had made you want to break that rule from the first night that you met him.

And though he had been slow to open up to you at first, it seemed that there was something about you that made his rules more flexible, too. 

Eventually the two of you had begun an unspoken relationship of sorts - one where nothing was promised but the prospect of a warm body to share a bed with for however long his business brought him to your planet. Nothing was promised, but things were still given. You’d told him of your dreams of leaving Tatooine. He’d shared his desire for redemption. Both of you had explained why those things could never happen. You without a ship nor means to afford passage off-world, and him without a way to access the only solution for atonement. 

But then you’d seen proof that perhaps his dream wasn’t out of reach. 

Though the half-drunken traveler had lost the chunk of fusion glass to a Jawa in a hand of sabacc almost immediately after showing it to you, you hadn’t hesitated in sending a holo to Din’s ship. “I have a lead on something you’ll definitely want to look into,” you’d told him. “Come back to Mos Eisley as soon as you can.” 

He’d arrived three days later, and when you told him what you’d seen you could almost feel the weight leave his shoulders at just the thought that what he sought might be possible. Three more days passed as he tracked the Jawa’s crawler so he could barter for the piece, and then he was back at your apartment, the jagged green glass laying on your table. 

“I don’t know how to thank you for this,” he’d said, the vocoder in his helmet doing little to disguise the genuine emotion in his naturally husky voice. “You’ve given me…” His helmet tilted so that the horizontal slit of his visor was trained on your eyes. “Hope.” 

Your response came as natural as breathing. “Thank me by coming back here when you’re done.” 

He’d said something to you then, something in his own tongue that you didn’t understand as he rested the curve of his helm against your forehead. When he left the next morning he’d taken the glass with him. But he’d chipped off a small piece of it to leave with you. 

As you bring your fingers up to brush them against the chip of green glass, it hits you, the reason for your creative drought: you’re worried that something has happened to him. That there was some truth to the rumors about Mandalore. That he’d been hurt. Or worse. You shudder at the thought. 

No. He’s… He’ll be alright. He’ll come back. 

But there’s something else, too. Something that hits you just as hard: that over time, through those stolen moments and shared nights, you’ve fallen in love with Din Djarin. And you’re not sure if you’ll ever get to tell him. You’re not sure what to do with that love if you can’t give it to him and you can’t pour it into your music. All you can do is wait. 

You’re pulled from your revelation when Lerna knocks on the door frame. “Showtime. You ready?”

You sigh and try your best to tuck your recent realizations back into the depths of your heart. Shuffling your features into something that you hoped was close to a smile, you nod. “Of course.” It’s a lie, but show business doesn’t always want the whole truth. 

“Good.” Lerna gives you a knowing look, her grin curving into a smirk. “Because someone just walked in asking when your set starts, and I think you’re gonna be happy to see him.” 

Lerna, like always, is right. 

The songs you sing that night aren’t new. They’re ones you’ve sung countless times. But as you gaze out into the crowd of patrons there’s only one person that you see. There’s only one person that you sing to, and it makes the old songs seem new.

.

.

Thank you for reading! If you’d like to be added to or removed from the tag list, please feel free to let me know. You can also fill out the form on my Masterlist! :)

tags: @something-tofightfor @gollyderek​ @pheedraws​ @beautifuldesastre​ @alraedesigns @valkblue @commanderlola @cannedsoupsucks @dihra-vesa @marauderskeeper @disgruntledspacedad @littlemisspascal @mishasminion360 @stevie75 @nyctophiliiiiaaa @practicalghost @tanzthompson @harriedandharassed @woodlandmouth @thescarletfang @trickstersp8 @princessxkenobi @imtryingmybeskar @wildmoonflower @mswarriorbabe80 @hp-hogwartsexpress @theredwritingwitch @silverstarsandsuns @competentpotato @pedro-pedrito-pascalito @jedi-in-crocs @hannahkatharinee @anoverwhelmingdin @chiyo13 @myloveistoolittle @spishsstuff @noisynightmarepoetry