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smileysuh · 11 months

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Big Bear & Bee

🌙 staring. Johnny x afab!Reader

🔮 preview. You swallow thickly, leaning back against Johnny while you gain your courage. You know he’s not the type to force anything on you, and something tells you that if you don’t make this first move, you might miss your chance. Turning in his arms, you look up into the bear hybrid's chocolate brown eyes. Then you’re kissing him, putting all the passion that’s been brewing into the meeting of your lips. You thread your fingers through his soft hair, eager to get close to him, closer than you’ve ever been before.

tw/cw. protected sex, multiple positions (girl on top/missionary), pussy eating, praise, dirty talk, bear hybrid x human, fingering, overstim, size kink, big dick!Johnny, pussy stretching, slow burn, mentions of baby/child fever, sex while she wears a dress, etc... I pet names: (hers) bee, princess, gorgeous. (his) John, Big Bear.

👹 rating.18+ explicit I wc. 15.9k

🍭 aus. hybrid, bear/uncle!Johnny, human/honey shop worker!y/n, etc…

☀️ mlist + an. huge thank you to @sehunniepot for helping me through writing this and being my beta reader- Nikki is truly one of my best friends, and if you haven't already checked out her writing, she's got John fics for days - her Olympian Johnny is one of my favorite fics ever 💕

As a bear hybrid, Johnny has been in many honey shops in his life. He’s frequented hole-in-the-wall mama and papa honey selling places. He’s visited corporate brand locations so big and full of different types of honey that they made his head spin. He’s even given a chance to side of the road, farm fresh honey sellers.

Even with all of this experience, there’s only one place that he’s truly come to love, and that’s Queen B’s Honey Company.

Nestled between an ice cream parlour and a fifties style salon on an old street on the side of town, near the farming district, Queen B’s has a certain charm that’s always scratched Johnny’s honey itch just right.

With soft cream coloured walls, and touches of old wood that line the space in shelves and fill the room with various display tables, the store is somewhere between scandi and revitalized farm aesthetic, a style that Johnny adores.

Housing a wide array of honey, in sticks, jars, canisters and tubs, the honey shop has everything a bear like John could ever need, and that’s not even including all the hand made pottery that sits on the top shelves. Plants are speckled here and there, adding a floral scent to the sweetness in the air that’s inherent to the Queen B establishment.

There’s art too, all somehow relating to honey, and everywhere you look, there’s a recurring theme of bees and bears.

It’s a tale as old as time - the bears and the bees - and one that has always immediately brought the hybrid an indescribable sense of peace.

Even with all of this, however, Johnny’s favourite part about the store has to be the kind workers that calmly bustle around, always quick to lend a hand or ask how his day is going. Specifically, you draw Johnny in like no amount of honey ever could, and he’s pleased to arrive at the store once a week to often find you working.

Johnny might be a big shot club owner and entrepreneur by night, but by day - especially in the comfort of Queen B’s - Johnny sees himself as more of a calm dude just trying to support a local business. Despite his attraction to you, he’d hate to put himself out there and make you uncomfortable - at your workplace no less - so in the months he’s been frequenting your establishment, your short interactions have only ever pertained to honey, and he can live with that.

The front bell chimes softly as Johnny enters Queen B’s, and Johnny meets your smile with a grin of his own. “Good morning!” you call out, a common greeting that still somehow makes his heart beat loudly in his chest.

“Hi,” he nods, breaking your gaze to inspect the front display, where all your store’s new products are laid out like candy in a candy shop for the honey-loving bear hybrid.

He tries to be nonchalant, but as the only person in the store, Johnny knows he’s captured your attention. There are days when he’s one of a handful, and you often take care of those who’ve come before him, only to head his way and ask if there’s anything you can help him find. Today, he has all your attention, and it takes effort for him not to watch you approach.

There’s something about the soft yellow apron that you always wear, or the yellow scrunchies and ribbons in your hair. Your white t-shirt and blue jean ensemble under your work apron is just as much a part of the beautiful colour scheme, and there’s no three colours in the world that Johnny likes together more than cream, honey, and denim blue, especially on you.

“We’ve got new honey sticks,” you tell him, as you come to join him by the front display. He loves how you know what he normally buys, that you remember him so well.

“I see that,” he nods, sneaking a glance up at you. “Are they any good?”

You nod. “Very good, at least, I think so.” You begin to tell him where the honey is sourced - from a local apiary - and the way that the honey sticks are naturally flavoured with the seasonal blackberries, raspberries and other such ingredients that grow in the surrounding area, all organic of course.

Johnny listens, although half of his mind is much more pleasantly occupied watching your lips. The way you speak has always enchanted the bear hybrid, and he’s more than happy to watch you work hard to give him all the information you can.

“Sounds good,” Johnny says when you’re done. “I might just have to get five of each.”

“I can prepare that for you if you’d like to continue looking around,” you smile. “We also restocked the blackberry honey jars from Overgrove Apiary. I know we were out last week and you got something else, so…well, I called our merchandiser over there and got a new batch just yesterday.”

You're a woman after his own heart…and maybe also his money, but Johnny can never tell if your interest in him is beyond that of a professional.

“Thanks, I really appreciate that,” Johnny tells you honestly, watching you begin to collect five of each honey stick into a simple brown paper bag for him.

“Don’t mention it,” you say softly. “Anything for a regular.”

He wonders again if that’s all he is to you, a regular, and Johnny finds himself putting his hands in the pockets of his dress pants, fiddling with the golden ring on his thumb. “It’s nice to be taken care of,” he says finally.

Your eyes meet, and you’re quick to look away, but the soft smile on your face is enough to make Johnny’s heart race again.

“Is there anything else I can help you with today? Or just the honey sticks and blackberry jar?”

“I think this is good for now,” he tells you, following when you immediately turn to head to the till.

It’s a nice silence as he watches you check everything through the system, and when you give him the total, he pulls out his soft, brown leather wallet from his back pocket. He always pays in cash, and despite the fact that he never asks for change, opting to give you a tip that goes into the tip jar, you still ask if he’d like the coins back.

It’s one of Johnny’s joys of the week to tell you, “keep the change,” as he reaches for his brown paper bag of goodies.

“Can I-” your voice draws his eyes, and he wonders what you might ask him. This is not part of your normal interactions, and he holds his breath waiting to see what might come of it. “Never mind, it’s probably a stupid question.”

“Good thing I like stupid questions,” he assures you, giving you the space to continue.

“I was just-” you take a deep breath. “I’ve looked into certain hybrids like yourself enjoying honey, and Winnie The Pooh always told me that bears like honey, but you can’t always rely on cartoons, can you?” Johnny chuckles at the idea. “As a regular, I was thinking maybe I could ask you about your personal experience with our products?”

“That’s a good question,” Johnny says, thinking about it for a moment. “You know my affinity for the blackberry honey - I’ve always had a sweet tooth - but in truth, all the honey sticks are for my niece. She’s the real addict in the family.”

“Really?” Your eyes have widened, and Johnny thinks it’s possible you’ve never been prettier than this moment. “I always- I mean, in the months you’ve been coming in, I just always assumed the honey sticks were for you-”

“Easy mistake,” he smiles.

“You’ve never come in with your niece,” you point out.

Johnny nods, looking around the perfect store. “Yeah. There’s a lot of expensive stuff in here, the pottery, the displays- I didn’t want to bring her in and be a bother so usually I pick stuff up before going to grab her from her school. It’s my day to babysit,” he explains, “and it’s nice to start it off with a little goodie bag.”

He goes to reach for the brown paper bag in question, but you’re quick to pull it away from him. “A goodie bag?” you repeat. “If I'd known this was a goodie bag, I would have put some tissue paper in here-” you’re already reaching under the till, taking out some cream coloured paper with golden spots and bees on it.

“It’s okay-”

“No,” you insist, “your niece is going to love this, trust me.” You press the fun tissue paper into the bag, and the soft crinkling sound makes Johnny smile. “Maybe a bow too?”

“She really doesn’t need a bow-”

“Most little girls like bows, Uncle Big Bear,” you tell him, reaching for the yellow ribbons next to the register. But then your hands freeze. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have just called you Uncle Big Bear-”

“That’s okay,” he assures you.

“It’s not,” you shake your head, averting your gaze, and Johnny corrects himself from earlier. He’d thought seeing you shocked made you cute, but seeing you flustered makes you even cuter. “That was really unprofessional-”

“Trust me, It’s okay,” he tells you again. “Look, if you really feel bad about it, you can call me Johnny. You can say ‘most little girls like bows, Johnny’ and that will be fine by me. How’s that sound?”

He loves the way your careful hands wrap a pretty bow around one of the bag handles even as you look up at him with shy eyes. “Most little girls like bows, Johnny,” you say, voice quiet.

“Then I’m thankful you’ve given me tissue paper and a bow,” he grins. “Thanks for all of this,” he picks up the finished bag of goodies.

“You’re welcome,” you nod, biting on your lip. “And Johnny?”

He loves the way his name sounds coming from you. “Yeah?”

“Please bring your niece in. We’re a hybrid and child-friendly store. I’m sure she’d love it here.”

Johnny takes a moment before nodding. “Okay,” he concedes, giving you one last once over before heading to the door.

When he picks up his niece from school, she’s ecstatic to receive a new and improved goodie bag, giggling over the cream and gold, bee and polka dot tissue paper. She immediately tears into one of the honey sticks.

While you’re often on Johnny’s mind after his Queen B visits, today, he can’t get you out of his brain.

You’re halfway through completing a transaction with an older customer when your favourite regular walks into your store. The sight of him makes you do a double take, because today, he’s not alone.

He’s brought his niece in, just like you’d asked him to.

At about waist-high next to the gentle giant bear hybrid, the little girl looks absolutely adorable. She’s in a yellow and white polka dot dress, with two sparkly scrunchies keeping her dark hair up in pigtails just behind her large fluffy ears. Her hand is clasped in Johnny’s, and her eyes are full of wonder as she steps into the space.

“Thank you for shopping with us,” you say to the lady you’re helping, quickly finishing up so your attention can return to Johnny.

His niece is tugging on his hand now, attempting to run up to the display case that’s stocked with all your new honey stick flavours.

“These ones!” the little girl insists. “These are the ones you got me last week!”

“I know, Winnie, I know,” Johnny smiles, joining the little cub in front of the table of treats. “Your favourite was the peach one, right?”

“Uh huh!” The little girl, Winnie, nods enthusiastically. “But I also liked raspberry, and strawberry, and apple, and cherry-”

“Slow down there, cub,” Johnny laughs, bending down to lift his niece up so she can see the display better. “We’ve got all the time in the world to make your choices, right?”

“Right,” Winnie confirms, nodding solemnly as she gazes down at all the honey sticks.

“I think we’ll be needing a basket,” Johnny notes. “Can we go grab a basket?”

“Yeah!” Her enthusiasm makes you smile, and you reach under your till to grab something to carry their honey in, approaching the two with a heart that’s currently melting in your chest.

“Welcome to Queen B’s,” you say, drawing both of the bear hybrid’s eyes. “I heard a basket might be in order?”

You hold it out for Johnny, and he gives you a grateful smile while accepting it. “Yeah, thank you,” he adjusts his niece on his hip. “Winnie, this is y/n, she showed me all these new honey sticks last week and wrapped your goodie bag up in a bow.”

“Oh thank you, thank you, thank you!” The little girl grins, flashing a toothy smile that shows her sharp canines are just starting to grow in.

“She loved the bow,” Johnny tells you. “Didn’t you, Winnie?”

“I loved it, see!” She thrusts out her hand, and you find the yellow ribbon wrapped around wrist.

“That’s very pretty, Winnie,” you smile, also noting her cute yellow nails. She’s a girl who has an obvious favourite colour, and it’s cute in comparison to the neutral blacks and browns Johnny often wears.

“Is it okay if she chooses her own honey sticks?” Johnny asks, holding his niece closer to the display stand.

“Of course!” You’re a little shocked by how polite Johnny is. Even after telling him you’re a kid-friendly store, he still double checks to make sure he’s not crossing any lines.

“Did you hear that, Winnie?” Johnny looks down at the cub in his arms. “You can choose which ones you want, but I promised your mom to only get twenty today. Do you think you can count to twenty for me while you grab your treats?”

“Of course I can!” Winnie insists, reaching out her little hand to circle a bunch of the peach flavored honey sticks. When she pulls the treats back to her chest, she begins counting, and Johnny joins in. The first five are easy, but she begins to falter a little at six and seven.

Johnny is as patient as ever, helping her through to ten before he stops her. “Is ten enough, cub? That’s half of twenty, you know.”

“Ten is enough,” Winnie sighs, dropping her chosen sticks into the basket before reaching to return those she won’t keep.

“What else?” Johnny asks, beginning to bob his niece up and down on his hip as she surveys the options.

“Two raspberry,” she concludes, and Johnny holds her closer to the tin of raspberry sticks. She plucks two out.

“What’s ten plus two?” Johnny questions.

“Uh…” Winnie looks up at her uncle and you watch him mouth the word twelve, which Winnie announces a moment later.

“Good job,” Johnny praises her. “Ten plus two is twelve. Okay, what’s next?”

“Two cherry.”

“What’s twelve plus two?”

“Uh…” again, Johnny mouths the answer, and Winnie declares “fourteen!” which earns her a few coos of admiration and another ‘good job’ that has you practically melting.

You suppose standing and watching the two is somewhat intrusive, so with a nod to Johnny, you step back, busying yourself on a nearby display case that needs some fixing.

You listen to the bear hybrids count all the way to twenty, and you hear Johnny congratulate Winnie again for counting so high.

You’d always gotten the vibe that Johnny is a softy, but seeing him in action is something else, and you find it harder and harder to stop the smile from appearing on your face at all his sweet actions.

Instead of approaching the till, Johnny asks Winnie if she wants to see some of the pottery on the walls, and the cub lets out an excited “Yes!”

“But remember,” Johnny says, voice turning serious as he puts his basket down and adjusts the girl in his arms, hands going onto her waist so he can lift her high enough to see the tall shelves, “keep your paws to yourself.”

“I promise,” Winnie giggles. “Uncle John! Look! This one’s a beehive!”

“It’s pretty, isn’t it?” Johnny nods.

“Very pretty,” Winnie confirms.

“Maybe I should get your mom one of these for her birthday,” Johnny says. “Do you think she’d like a honey jar?”

Winnie nods enthusiastically. “Yes, yes, yes!”

“Which one, cub? This one? Or…” he moves over a few feet, showing her another ceramic honey pot, “how about this?”

“They’re all so pretty,” Winnie admits.

“Well, how about you think about it, and when we come back next week, you can help me choose one. How’s that sound?”

He truly is a gentle giant, and you find yourself grabbing a few extra honey sticks from a display near the till in preparation for Johnny’s approach.

“Okay, cub,” he says as he carries his niece over, “I’m gonna have to set you down now so I can pay.”

“Okay,” Winnie nods, allowing herself to be placed back on the ground. She tucks in close to Johnny’s leg, looking around the store while Johnny sets the basket next to your till.

“How’s your day going?” Johnny asks, flashing you a smile as he reaches into his back pocket for his wallet.

“It’s going great,” you admit. “I was wondering if you’d actually come in today.”

“I told you last time, Monday’s the day I babysit.”

“And I told you to bring in your niece,” your eyes dip to the small bear hybrid still clinging to his leg, “I’m very glad you did.”

“Me too,” Johnny smiles. “How much do I owe you?”

You give him the price of his twenty honey sticks, moving them from the basket to a pretty goodie bag you’d prepared. Johnny hands you two bills, and as always, tells you to keep the change.

“Wait,” he says when he watches you put five extra honey sticks into the bag, “I didn’t buy those-”

“They’re on the house,” you assure him. “I understand that your sister made a twenty honey stick cap, but I figured, maybe Winnie will share some with you, so… here are extra ones. They’re a different brand, Overgrove Apiary, and they’re all blackberry, which I know is your favourite.”

“Wow,” Johnny accepts the goodie bag, immediately handing it off to Winnie, who reaches in to tear a honey stick out. “Thank you, I uh… I appreciate it.”

“Don’t mention it,” you assure him. “And by the way, the ice cream parlour next door has a new flavour out. It’s honeycomb.”

“Honeycomb!?” Winnie is midway through tearing open the stick in her hands, and she looks up at you with wide eyes.

“You’re trying to get me in trouble with her mother, aren’t you?” Johnny laughs.

“I’d never even think of doing such a thing,” you grin.

“Sure you wouldn’t,” Johnny looks you up and down, and you feel your skin heating under his gaze. “Have a good day, y/n.”

“You too, Johnny.”

You’ve been looking forward to Monday all weekend, and when Johnny walks in at 3:30 with Winnie on his shoulders, all the tension from your long day leaves your body.

“Hi, you two,” you greet them, coming from around the till to give them your full attention.

“Hi, y/n!” Winnie exclaims, waving enthusiastically at you.

“How’s your day going, cub?” you ask, looking up at the little girl clinging to Johnny’s head.

“It’s okay,” Winnie sighs.

“That doesn’t sound okay,” you note, reading her body language.

Your gaze dips to Johnny and he gives you a look. “Some kids were being mean to her in school today,” he confesses.

“What?” you look to Winnie again. “That doesn’t sound very nice.”

“It wasn’t,” she confirms with another loud sigh. “They were making fun of my ears.”

“But you have such wonderful ears,” you compliment her, frowning at the fact that the world is still full of people who are very much anti-hybrid.

“That’s what I told her,” Johnny nods.

“Uncle John wanted to know their names so he could go and gobble them up,” Winnie tells you, flashing a mischievous smile. “But I told him I could handle it. They might not like my ears, but they don’t know how to dress good either, so-” the cub shrugs, “how am I supposed to listen to girls who don’t know how to dress good?”

You find yourself laughing at her sass, nodding along. “That’s a very good point, Winnie. I have to admit, I liked your dress the first time you entered the shop, and I see you’re in an even prettier one today.”

“This one?!” Winnie looks down at the cream coloured poofy dress adorning her form. “Uncle John got it for me for my birthday.”

“Well, he also has an eye for fashion, doesn’t he?” You smile at Johnny, and he grins back at you.

“He does,” Winnie agrees. “Even though mommy says he should wear dress pants with a button up, I like his t-shirts.”

“I do too,” you nod. You’ve always liked Johnny’s style, the way he can wear a nice pair of dress pants with a casual shirt and sneakers.

“You guys are too nice to me,” Johnny insists, and you can see the hint of a blush in his pretty complexion.

“No such thing as too nice,” Winnie insists, “you taught me that, Uncle John.”

“I guess I did, didn’t I?” he sighs. “Anyways, you remember our mission today, right cub?”

“A honeypot for mommy,” the little girl on his shoulders nods.

“That’s right,” Johnny begins to move towards the shelves holding ceramics, and you shadow the pair.

“Is there anything that stood out to you the last time you were here, princess Winnie?” you ask.

The little girl kicks her feet with joy at the new title you’ve given her, and she nods. “The beehive.”

“The beehive,” Johnny repeats with a sigh, and his gaze shifts to you. “Our little Winnie is nothing if not predictable.”

You enjoy the sentiment, the use of the word ‘our’ as if you’re already a part of their little family. You certainly feel connected to the two bear hybrids, although you’ve only really been getting to know Johnny for a short time.

You hope you can get to know them better.

“Is this the beehive honey pot you want?” you ask, pointing at a lovely handmade ceramic on the top shelf.

“Uh huh, that’s the one,” Winnie nods, playing with Johnny’s ears as she holds onto his head. “Mommy’s going to love it.”

“I’m sure she will,” you agree. “Let me just get the step ladder so I can reach it-”

“No need,” Johnny assures you, stepping forward and reaching up to grab the honey pot. You marvel at how tall he is- “Here,” he holds it out for you, “would you mind taking that to the till while we grab our twenty honey sticks?”

“I don’t mind at all,” you smile, accepting the ceramic and holding it close to your chest.

Johnny helps Winnie off of his shoulders and the two head to the display case that holds your store’s best goodies. You walk over to the till, scanning the price tag of the honey pot and getting it prepared.

You wrap it in bubble wrap before placing it in a nice gift bag and adding tissue paper to obscure the pot. This is a present after all, and you take your time making it look nice.

You’re just finishing your task when Winnie and Johnny approach holding twenty honey sticks, and they wait patiently while you scan them too.

“Hey Winnie,” Johnny looks down at his niece, “How about you go take a look at that display case over there,” he suggests, “I’m sure there’s some stuff in it you haven’t seen before.”

Winnie looks confused for a moment, but then she shrugs, skipping off to look at the array of jarred honey in a display case a few meters away.

You cock a brow at Johnny while he pulls out his wallet.

“Listen,” he says, voice low as he pulls out cash, “I know this might be overstepping, and I’m sorry if that’s the case but… I’d really like to take you out some time.”

“Take me out?”

“On a date,” Johnny clarifies. “Again, shoot me down and there will be no hard feelings-”

“I’d love to,” you tell him.

“Really?” He breaks into a smile, and it makes your heart flutter with excitement.

“Really,” you confirm, reaching for a Queen B’s Honey business card. “Let me give you my number,” you say, grabbing a pen to write your digits on the back of the piece of paper.

When you hand it to Johnny, your fingers brush, and the contact makes your whole body light up with energy. You can tell from the way Johnny looks down at your number, skin flaring a slight pinkish colour, that he has no clue of the effect he has on you. “Thanks,” he mutters, voice cracking. “I’ll uh, give you a call later.”

“Wow, a call, not just a text,” you smile as you take Johnny’s cash, putting it into the register and counting out change.

“Let’s just say I’m old fashioned,” the bear grins sheepishly at you.

“I like it,” you confess. “It’s part of your charm.”

“I have charm?”

“Tons,” you nod.

“Good to know.” He licks his lips, looking down at you with those chocolate brown eyes that have always made you feel like melting into a puddle on the floor.

Winnie returns to grab her bag of honey sticks, and Johnny gently picks up the present for his sister. “Say goodbye to y/n, Winnie.”

“Goodbye, y/n. See you next week!”

“You better,” you grin. “I’ll be eager to find out how your mom likes her new honeypot.”

“She’ll love it,” Winnie says with the confidence that only a toddler truly possesses.

You adore her already.

“I’ll call you,” Johnny says again, giving you one last smile as you say goodbye and he turns to leave your store.

You watch him go, holding Winnie’s hand while the little girl skips along.

You kind of feel like skipping too.

Old fashioned Johnny is sweeter than the honey your store makes, and he calls you on Monday evening to see if you want to go to a fair on Thursday night. “You’re not scared of heights right? I can take you on the ferris wheel? They do fireworks at nine thirty for the kids but uh, I thought you might like watching them.”

He’s a gentleman, and you agree to all his ideas.

Waiting until Thursday is something like torture, but you somehow make it to the end of your shift and go home to get dolled up for Johnny. It will be the first time he sees you not in a work outfit, and you want to impress him.

You’d noted how proud he looked of Winnie’s dress when she’d mentioned he’d bought it for her, and you think Johnny might have a thing for cutesy looks, so you find your sweetest dress. It’s still modest, and when you look in the mirror, you realize you sort of look like one of those cute elementary school teachers you’ve seen in movies.

Finishing the outfit off with red lipstick, you think it’s a happy medium, after all, you will be at a fair with lots of children running around.

Johnny picks you up from your house, pulling up next to the curb in an old black muscle car convertible that takes your breath away as you approach.

“Wow,” you whisper, looking between him and the vehicle he’s leaning against.

“I should be saying that to you,” Johnny grins, straightening and holding out his hands. “You look amazing. Can you do a little spin for me?”

You allow him to grab your hand, and he helps you do a twirl that makes your dress dance.

“Perfect,” he tells you. “I’ve always liked your work outfit, but this dress is something else.”

“Really?” you beam up at him, allowing the bear hybrid to pull you to his chest.

“Would I lie to you?” he asks.

You stare into his eyes, and after a moment’s consideration, you shake your head. “No, you wouldn’t.”

You almost think Johnny’s about to kiss you, but then he swallows thickly and turns his head away, looking at the road. “Should we get going?”

“Yes, please.”

He drives a little wilder than the calm persona he exudes when he’s in your shop, and you find yourself giggling as he races down streets. It feels exhilarating to be in a convertible, the warm summer air rushing past.

Johnny grins at you when you laugh, pushing the car even harder to bring you more joy.

You’re already completely dazzled by the bear hybrid by the time you get to the fair, and the night just keeps getting better and better.

He holds your hand as you walk through the crowd, and he even wins you a massive teddy bear at one of the fair games. His baseball skills are no joke, and he easily knocks down all the bottles, triumphantly holding the teddy out to you as his prize.

“For me?” you ask in shock, accepting the toy.

“Of course, everyone needs a Big Bear in their life,” he tells you, and the glint in his smile makes you think you’ve already found yours.

The two of you go on a few rides, with you clinging to Johnny’s side during rough twists and turns. He keeps you and the teddy bear safe, laughing while you scream in delight. It feels like being a kid again. It’s something you’ve never really experienced, being at a fair on a date with a cute guy who seems to want to give you the world.

It’s nine twenty before you even know it, and Johnny leads you to the ferris wheel.

“We should get to the top by the time the fireworks start,” he tells you before pulling out his wallet and stepping close to the teenage boy working the ride. “I’ll pay you twenty bucks to give us an extra five minutes at the top.”

“I can do that,” the teenager nods, quickly pocketing the bill before helping you both onto the ferris wheel. “Here, I’ll take care of the bear for you,” he says, as there’s no way you both will fit on the ride with the massive stuffed animal. The seats are for two adults, and Johnny pulls out another five to give to the attendant before sitting next to you.

The bar is secured in place, locking you in next to the bear hybrid who smoothly puts his arm behind you, laying it across the back of the seats. “It’s a nice night,” he tells you.

“A perfect night,” you agree. “I’m so happy you asked me to do this with you.”

“I’m happy you came,” he smiles. “I wasn’t sure if asking you out while you were at work was a good idea, but, I guess after seeing you interact with Winnie, I just couldn’t pass up on the opportunity.”

“Your niece is wonderful,” you breathe.

“She’s a good cub,” Johnny nods.

“Seeing as we’re going to be on this ride for a while, do you mind if I ask you some questions about yourself? We’ve spent the whole night doing things, and I don’t actually know that much about you.”

“You can ask me anything.”

“Let's start with what you do for work?”

Johnny laughs. “Any guesses?”

“Well, I’m pretty sure you’re not a nine to five kind of guy-”

“I’m not,” he confirms.

“You dress so well, part of me wants to say you’re involved in fashion or something.”

“Good idea,” Johnny grins, “but unfortunately no, I’m not involved with any fashion work. I think my job is a hard one to guess, so I’ll just tell you. I run a club with a few close friends.”

“You run a club?” you blink at him.

“Don’t look so shocked, Bee,” Johnny smiles, and your heart does flip flops at the new pet name. “It’s a hybrid bar in midtown.”

“A hybrid bar,” you repeat.

“Humans are allowed in the front section, but we have a back that’s exclusive for hybrids. It’s a safe space for us, and I’m there a lot, especially during the weekends, keeping an eye on things,” he explains.

“Tell me about the friends you work with?”

“First, there’s Hyuck. He’s a pretty peculiar guy. Then there’s Renjun, and Yuta, he’s a wolf hybrid. But at this point, I’m friends with a lot of the workers too. We have this raven manager, Doyoung, and I love watching him run around like a stressed chicken with his head cut off-” Johnny smiles to himself. “You’ll have to come by sometime and meet them.”

“That would be nice,” you nod. “I mean, you’ve seen me at work so often, it would be interesting to see you in your own element.”

“Honestly, I’m not so sure the club is my element. It’s a good way to make money, and I don’t have to do much- it’s one of the perks of being a part owner. But if I had to choose between your store and the club, I think I’d rather be at the honey shop.”

“So you can watch me run around like a stressed chicken with my head cut off?” you tease.

“You always seem so put together,” Johnny tells you.

“That’s because you often show up when no one else is in the store. You should see what it’s like during a Saturday rush.”

The bear hybrid laughs. “Maybe I’ll have to pop by, then.”

You’re only halfway up the ferris wheel, and you’re a little surprised when a sudden loud pop marks the beginning of the fireworks. You tear your gaze from Johnny, focusing on the blue and green explosion that’s lighting up the dark sky.

“Wow, this view is amazing!” you exclaim.

“It is,” Johnny agrees, and you can see out of the corner of your eye that the charming man hasn’t stopped staring at you just yet. “I knew you’d like it here.”

He adjusts his arm behind you, finally resting his hand casually over your shoulder, and you immediately tuck yourself closer to the bear hybrid. His large body is so warm and comforting, and you enjoy the peaceful quiet that settles over you both as you watch the fireworks.

The ride moves, bringing you closer to the prime spot at the top of the ferris wheel. You can feel yourself getting giddier- you’ve never been on a date like this. Never experienced something this perfect.

“You’re cute,” Johnny says.

“I am?” You look at the bear hybrid next to you.

“Uh huh,” Johnny nods. “The way your eyes light up when you’re watching the fireworks- I’ve never seen anything prettier.”

“Stop, you’re such a charmer,” you blush, hiding your face against the crook of his neck.

“Just being honest,” he tells you, stroking your shoulder.

The ride begins to move again, and you pull away from Johnny to marvel at the view again.

From the top of the ferris wheel, you can see everything. The whole fairground is laid out below you, twinkling and brilliant. The fireworks are dazzling, filling the sky with colourful explosions.

You turn to Johnny and something comes over you. You want to say thank you, but the words themselves won’t suffice, so instead, you lean close, pressing your lips to his cheek. Johnny practically freezes, and when you pull away, you see a red lipstick stain on his skin.

Johnny turns his head to look at you, gaze darting down to your mouth-

Again, you’re hit with a surge of confidence, and this time, when you lean in, it’s not his cheek you’re aiming for.

Johnny’s lips are soft, gentle against your own, and then his hand comes up to cup your face. You don’t want to pull away. You can tell he doesn’t want you to either. His mouth parts, tongue gently teasing your bottom lip, and you let him deepen the kiss.

Your body is tingling with energy as you lean closer to him, grabbing at the front of his shirt. When your own tongue darts out to taste him, the bear hybrid lets out a groan, and you mirror it with a pleasured sound of your own.

A loud bang makes you jump a little in his embrace, and Johnny smiles against your lips, releasing your face so you can turn to admire the large firework that’s just been set off.

“John,” you breathe, “this is perfect.”

“It’s how I wanted our first kiss to be,” he muses. “As much as I wanted to kiss you when I picked you up, I knew waiting would have its rewards.”

So he wanted to kiss you as much as you wanted to kiss him, and the thought has your heart thumping loudly in your chest.

You can’t help but press your lips to his again, smiling into the kiss while Johnny tugs you closer. His free hand slips down to your thigh, and you moan at how good it feels.

It’s shocking how just kissing Johnny is already doing so much to your body- as if some primal instinct is taking over.

You’re not sure how long you remain lip locked, but when the ride jolts into motion again, you break the kiss, laughing a little as you bury your face against his neck.

The bear hybrid holds you tighter, and you remain in his embrace for the rest of the ride.

When you reach the ground again, Johnny holds out a hand and helps you out of your seat. The teenage ride attendant gives Johnny the bear stuffie, and he carries it for you as you walk through the fairgrounds towards his car.

You’re amazed with how comfortable you are with Johnny, and the ride home is filled with as many speed fueled giggles as your drive to the fairground had been.

When you reach your house, Johnny even walks you to the door.

You kiss him again, loving the way that his size dwarfs your own. You wrap your arms around the back of his neck, not wanting to let go. But all good nights must come to an end, and after a long makeout session, you finally pull away to catch your breath.

“When can I see you again?” Johnny asks.

“Monday?” you suggest.

“With Winnie?” The bear hybrid laughs. “Are you sure you’re not using me to get to my niece?”

You grin, enjoying his playful banter. “I was just thinking that you said you work most evenings on the weekend, and I work during the day, so our schedules are conflicting.”

“Right, yeah,” Johnny nods. “What are you doing Tuesday, after work?”

“You tell me.”

“Movies,” Johnny states. “I want to take you to the movies.”

“Is there anything good showing?”

“Probably,” he shrugs. “I figure anything will be good if you’re there with me.”

He’s such a sweet talker, and you give him a kiss, thanking him for the lovely evening. “I’ll see you Monday, John.”

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

“Why are you rushing, Uncle John?” Winnie asks as Johnny speeds down the street after picking her up from school.

“No reason,” he says, although it's partially a lie.

He’s excited to see you, even if it’s just for a short interaction while Winnie gets her honey fix. However, his niece is right, Johnny is going a little too fast, and it’s almost torture for him to slow down.

He all but hops out of the car when he parks in front of your shop, opening the back door for Winnie to exit the vehicle as well. They enter Queen B’s Honey with enthusiasm, although the cause of that enthusiasm is very different.

Winnie goes straight for the honey stick display, but Johnny’s much more focused on you. You’re restocking a few honey jars on a top shelf, wobbling a little on your stepping stool, and the bear hybrid is quick to rush to your aid.

“Hey there,” he breathes, steadying a hand on your waist. “Carefull, Bee.”

“Oh, hi, John,” you grin down at him.

“Hi, yourself,” he smiles, watching you put the last jar in its place.

You turn, resting your hands on his shoulders as you step down to the floor, and Johnny loves the way you’re so much shorter than he is. He could just eat you up-

“Hi, Winnie!” You wave at his niece over his shoulder.

“Hi!” she calls back, and when Johnny turns, he sees his little cub is already reaching to grab a few peach honey sticks from their jar. She’s occupied, and it gives Johnny the chance to talk to you one on one a little, something he’s very grateful for.

“How was your weekend?” he asks.

“Busy,” you laugh. “You?”

“Busy,” he grins. “Was thinking about you a lot.”

“You were, were you?” There’s a twinkle in your eye, and it all but bewitches the bear hybrid who still has a hand on your hip. “Did I really leave that good of an impression?”

“Like you wouldn’t believe,” he confesses. “Were you thinking about me too?”

“More than I care to say,” you nod.

“Are we still on for that movie tomorrow?”

“Of course, unless you’ve changed your mind-”

“Never.”

“Uncle John!” Winnie’s voice snaps Johnny out of his daze, and he tears his gaze from your lips to look at his niece.

“Yeah, cub?”

“I can’t reach the cherry honey!”

“Oh no,” Johnny says in an animated fashion, letting go of your waist to go help Winnie. “We can’t have that, can we?” He lifts his niece up, helping her grab a handful of honey sticks. “Woah there cub, how many of these have you got already?”

“Just a few,” she insists, adding her new goodies to a hand already holding a large number of peach sticks.

“Just a few,” Johnny chuckles. It’s obvious that Winnie has forgotten her candy cap. “Can you count to twenty for me?”

“Just twenty?” Winnie whines.

“You know we’ll both get in trouble with your mom if you have any more than that.”

Winnie sighs with exasperation, putting a few of the cherry sticks back in their jar.

“There we go,” Johnny grins. “Just peach and cherry today?”

“They’re my favourites,” Winnie insists.

It’s a shame that his little cub doesn’t take longer choosing honey, as it means there’s less time with you, but Johnny also supposes that he shouldn’t be monopolizing on goodie time. He’ll get to see you tomorrow, even though it pains him to head to the till and say goodbye to you so soon.

“Have a wonderful day, you two,” you grin.

“We will,” Johnny promises. His day is already fantastic now that he’s seen you, and he’ll carry the memory of helping you off that stool for many hours to come. “Don’t work too hard.”

“No promises,” you wink.

God, you’re perfect.

“Don’t be mad,” Johnny says, which is not a great start to a call thirty minutes before he’s supposed to pick you up for your date, “but when Winnie heard I was going to the theater with you, she insisted on coming because there’s this new Disney movie that’s showing, and her mom jumped at the idea to have her own date night-”

You listen to the bear hybrid ramble with a smile on your face, and when he finishes, he asks you if you’re okay with Winnie tagging along. “I’d love for her to join us,” you tell him. “You know I adore Winnie.”

Johnny lets out a loud sigh on the other end of the line. “Have I ever told you how perfect you are?”

“I don’t think so.”

“Well, you are. Very perfect. Thanks for understanding.”

Half an hour later Johnny’s at your door, but he’s not in the convertible muscle car. Instead, an SUV is waiting on the curb, and you see Winnie waving at you frantically through the window.

“You look amazing,” Johnny breathes, taking in your dress with a smile.

“You clean up well too, John,” you smile, enjoying the brown checkered pants and white shirt he’s wearing.

“I’m sorry about this-”

“Don’t be,” you assure him. “As I said on the phone, I’m happy for the little cub to join.”

“Yeah,” Johnny sighs. “This was supposed to be a date-”

“It can still be a date,” you tell him, and you truly mean it.

It’s obvious to you that Winnie is a big part of Johnny’s life, and if you’re going to be part of his world too, it only makes sense for you to embrace his family.

When you get into the car, Winnie is quick to say hello, and she’s practically bouncing in her seat in the back of the vehicle. “It is you!” she exclaims. “Uncle John told me you’d be coming, but I didn’t really believe him!”

“No?” you smile. “Why’s that, cub?”

“Because you’re a princess, and he’s just Uncle John!”

“Ouch,” Johnny laughs, slipping behind the wheel. “That hurts, Win.” He turns the key in the ignition, casting a glance at you. “Do we all have our seatbelts on?”

“Yes, John,” you smile, and your sentiment is echoed by Winnie in the back, “of course, Uuncle John!”

“Why?” he presses, looking over his shoulder at the child in the back seat.

“Because safety is the most important thing!” she all but yells, and you think this must be something of a ritual for the two of them. It’s sweet, and it makes you fall even harder for the bear hybrid.

“Can we turn on my music?” Winnie asks next.

“Of course, cub,” Johnny nods, reaching for the center console, fingers pausing over the play button. “That is, if Miss Bee doesn’t mind the Lion King soundtrack.”

“Not at all,” you assure him.

Music fills the car a moment later, as does Winnie’s high pitched singing voice. When it reaches the chorus of the song, even Johnny joins in, and you wonder how many times he’s listened to this sound track with his niece.

It’s a soft experience, and one you savor every second of as Johnny drives you to the theater.

Winnie insists on walking between you and Johnny when she exits the car, holding both of your hands and doing little jumps that force you and her uncle to lift her off the ground while she giggles.

Once inside, you wait in the concession line and Winnie tells you all about the movie you’re going to see. She’s a massive Disney fan, and you enjoy listening to her talk. You catch Johnny staring at you a few times, and he always flashes you a smile when you meet his eyes.

Johnny gets a large popcorn with extra butter, and when he hands it to Winnie, she notes, “This is as big as me!”

In the theater, Johnny’s adorable niece once again insists on sitting in the middle, and Johnny lets out a small sigh but doesn’t argue with his niece. When you take your seats, however, his arm immediately goes along the back of the chairs, and his fingers find the back of your neck, gently stroking your skin.

He smiles at you when you turn to look at him, giving you a small wink before he entertains Winnie with a discussion on what colour his tail would be if he was a mermaid. Winnie decides hers would be yellow, and when Johnny says his would be green, she insists his would be brown because he’s a brown bear hybrid.

“Does that make you a yellow bear?” Johnny questions teasingly.

“A honey bear,” Winnie corrects. “And Miss Bee would be pink.”

“Really?” Johnny’s brows raise. “And why’s that, cub?”

“Because she has a pretty pink soul,” the child smiles, looking up at you. “And also, your dress is pink, and I like it.”

“Thank you, Winnie, I like your dress too.”

Winnie kicks her feet happily and Johnny rubs his thumb along the back of your neck in small, warm circles.

The lights dim, the movie starts, and you find that you’re thoroughly enjoying yourself. It’s nice to have Johnny’s gentle touch, a constant reminder that - although you’re here with his niece - he’s still doing his best to be attentive to you.

The film flies by, and before you know it, the three of you are exiting the theater. Winnie is dragging her feet, obviously exhausted from a long day at school and an evening movie, so Johnny picks her up, holding her tight to his chest while she wraps her legs around his waist and all but passes out on his shoulder.

At the car, you help Johnny put Winnie into the back seat, and when he closes the door, he turns to you. “Thank you for all of this.”

“Stop thanking me,” you smile. “I enjoyed myself.”

“Me too.” His hands find your waist, and he tugs you closer- only for his phone to ring.

“Shit,” Johnny cusses, the first swear word you’ve heard from him. “One sec, it’s my sister.”

He answers the call, assuring Winnie’s mom that the movie went well and they’ll be home soon. When he hangs up, Johnny tugs you to his chest again, pressing a chaste kiss on your lips.

He seems reluctant to let you go, but he opens your car door for you all the same, shutting it gently behind you once you’re tucked inside.

The drive home is quiet, as Winnie has fully passed out in the back seat. Johnny’s hand is on your thigh, and you place your own on top of his, playing with his fingers.

When you reach your house, Johnny exits the car to walk you to your door, where he kisses you, cupping your face and taking your breath away.

“I want to see you again,” he says, still holding you close.

“I’d love that.”

“How about Thursday? The club usually isn’t that busy on Thursdays. You could come meet a few of my friends.”

“Okay,” you nod. “I think I’d like that.”

“Perfect,” Johnny leans in to kiss you again, and as much as you’d love to melt against him, you’re very aware that Winnie’s mom is waiting for her back home.

“Drive safe, please,” you say when you finally pull away.

“I always do.”

You laugh. “That’s debatable.”

“You just don’t trust my driving skills yet,” Johnny insists.

Before you can stop him, he gives you one final kiss goodbye, and when you watch him turn to walk back to his car, you find yourself wishing he didn’t have to leave.

On Thursday night, you face the dilemma of figuring out what to wear for your date with Johnny. The past two experiences had been fairly classic, with a fair adventure and a trip to the movies, both perfectly suitable locations to wear a cute dress. But tonight, you’re going to a club and you wonder how that should affect your clothing choice.

After much contemplation, and about ten different outfit try-ons, you decide to stick with your usual baby doll style. Johnny seems to like it when you dress cute for him, and you’re banking on the fact that the bear hybrid likes you for you, as opposed to the girls who frequent his club in all forms of scandalous attire.

You’re feeling a little anxious about visiting a hybrid bar, if you’re being honest with yourself. It’s not that you personally have anything against hybrids, you’re just used to only being around one or two at a time.

You suppose maybe this is how Johnny feels, being a hybrid in a human dominant world, and the thought makes you a little sad. He always gives off such an air of ease and calmness, as if he doesn’t have a bother in the world. You wonder what adversities he’s had to overcome to get to that mentality, or if he was simply born that way.

Before you know it, Johnny’s picking you up. The convertible muscle car is back, and you take a moment to appreciate him leaning against it on the curb.

He’s dressed up tonight, more so than usual. His dress pants are paired with a button up, and its black silky material is soft to the touch when he pulls you to his chest for a kiss. “You look perfect,” he tells you, pinching at your chin and looking you up and down. “My perfect little honey bee doll.”

“I’m happy you like my dress,” you grin, swaying your hips so the skirt picks up.

Johnny grabs your hand, giving you the space to help you twirl while he lets out a whistle of appreciation. “I always like your dresses,” he admits. “I like your jeans and white t-shirt work outfits, but, I mean…when you walked out on our first date in a dress, I couldn’t take my eyes off of you.”

“Good, I can’t take my eyes off of you either.”

You wrap your arms around the back of his neck, pulling him into one last kiss before he opens the car door for you and helps you inside.

The ride is a peaceful one. He asks about your day, tells you about his own, and before you know it, you’re pulling up in front of his club. “You ready to meet my friends, gorgeous?” he asks, reaching over to give your hand a squeeze of reassurance.

“As ready as I’ll ever be,” you smile, leaning forward to kiss his cheek before exiting the car.

When you enter the club, with Johnny’s hand securely on the small of your back, it feels like any other bar you’ve been to. The staff are mostly hybrids, but you notice a few humans dressed in black too.

“It’s nice in here,” you tell him, beaming up at the man who makes you so eager to please.

“If you like this, wait till you see the back room,” Johnny grins, leading you past the bar.

“Oh,” you swallow thickly. “Didn’t you mention that the back is hybrid exclusive? Are you sure we should be going back there?”

“You have a good memory,” the bear nods. “It’s hybrid exclusive, but I'm a part owner, so I figure I can do what I want. Besides, this front section doesn’t have a VIP seating area, and my friends prefer to be in places where people can’t overhear us.”

“Are you planning on giving me some trade secrets, John?” You cock a brow and the bear hybrid laughs.

“Something like that.”

You reach the back door, where a bunny hybrid looks you up and down, his large, floppy ears twitching before his gaze shifts to Johnny. “Yuta said you’d be coming in tonight.”

You notice a puppy hybrid of sorts standing a few feet to the side, and his beautiful face is unreadable, his eyes fixed on you.

“Of course he did,” Johnny smiles at the bunny. “There’s not much Yuta can keep from you, is there, Markie?”

The bunny hybrid’s cheeks flare a cute shade of pink and he lets out a cough. “He’s uh… he’s waiting for you in VIP. Hyuck’s there too.”

“Thanks for the heads up,” Johnny says, applying a small amount of pressure onto your lower back which prompts you to step past Mark and through the open doorway.

Johnny was right about the hybrid exclusive section being nicer than the front, and you hurry to take it all in with your eyes. As you scan the space, it’s hard not to notice a few looks you get from people within the room.

You’re not sure if it’s because you’re with Johnny, or because you’re a human, but when your eyes catch the gaze of a man behind the bar with large, black raven wings, you get the feeling that it might be the latter.

“Are you sure it’s okay for me to be here?” you ask, tucking closer to Johnny’s side.

“Definitely,” Johnny nods, leading you toward a set of stairs that leads to the VIP section. “Especially up here.” He takes your hand as you ascend, and you see a booth with two men sitting in it.

One has white hair to match his ashy wolf ears, and you think this must be the Yuta that Johnny has mentioned to you. The other man has his back to you, and you don’t see any obvious hybrid markings.

Johnny hadn’t mentioned much about this ‘Hyuck’ friend of his, other than him being peculiar, and you begin to wonder if Hyuck might be human like you. It would definitely make you feel more comfortable.

“Hey, guys,” Johnny greets his friends as you come to a stop in front of the table. “How’s it going?”

Both the men turn to look at you, and like the hybrids at the door, their gaze shifts down and then back up. The wolf is the first to stand, pulling out of the booth to shake your hand.

“I’m Yuta, and you must be the honey girl,” he flashes you a smile complete with sharp canines that glint in the light. “We’ve heard a lot about you.”

“You have?”

“Johnny has been talking about you for months,” Hyuck breathes, but he doesn’t stand. “It was good to hear he finally grew some balls-”

“Hyuck,” Johnny groans, a warning in his tone. “Be nice.”

“You love bears probably want to sit next to each other,” Yuta says, slipping into the booth next to his friend and giving you the other side of the bench.

“Thanks,” Johnny nods, allowing you to sit first before he moves next to you, his arm immediately taking its place behind your shoulders. “Have you two been here long?”

Hyuck shakes his head, playing with the glass of amber liquid in front of him, but it’s Yuta who speaks. “Not long,” he assures you both, obviously the more talkative of the two. “Hyuck was here before me though, something about fucking his girlfriend in the staff bathroom-”

Hyuck grins mischievously and you wonder if this is a common occurrence for him.

“Does your girlfriend work here?” you ask, hoping to get into Hyuck’s good graces.

“Yeah,” his gaze shifts to the dance floor below. “She’s the sexy little bunny running around in that cute black dress.”

“She’s very pretty,” you smile.

“It runs in her family,” Yuta comments.

You’re confused for a moment before Johnny is leaning in close to your ear, “the bunny at the door, Mark, is her brother.”

“Oh,” you blink as you look at the men in front of you. “So you’re dating siblings?”

“I wouldn’t call what Yuta does with Mark dating-” Hyuck grins, earning an elbow in the ribs from the wolf on his side.

Johnny lets out a chuckle. “They’re both being very bad club owners, if you ask me.”

To be fair, both Yuta and Hyuck seem like the types to date their workers, but you suppose you shouldn’t hold that against them. These are Johnny’s friends, and you’re not about to start judging them now.

“So, Hyuck,” you look at the man across from you. “I can’t help but notice you don’t have any uh… any hybrid marks? Let me know if I’m being too forward, but are you human, or?”

Hyuck scoffs. “Definitely not.”

“And before you ask,” Yuta buts in, “his hybrid type is classified information.” The wolf flashes you a wink, and you suppose you should drop the topic. However, you can’t help the pang of anxiety that clutches your heart when you realize you truly are the only human in this back room.

“Johnny,” you look at the bear sitting next to you. “Are you really sure I should be here?”

“It’s fine-” Johnny goes to assure you again, but you can tell from the darkening of Hyuck’s gaze that maybe he doesn’t agree.

Before you can say anything else, Hyuck’s bunny hybrid girlfriend shows up. She smiles at Johnny, asking if he wants the usual, but when her eyes move to you, and you see her nose do a small wiggle, you realize she’s clocking you as a human.

“And what can I get your friend?” the bunny asks, and you’re thankful that she’s still being polite to you, but you can’t shake the feeling in the pit of your stomach.

“Actually, I think maybe I need some air,” you admit, taking a deep breath.

You suddenly feel very claustrophobic, and it might have to do with being surrounded by predatory hybrids. You don’t know what Hyuck is, exactly, but you’re sure he’s something big, because he acts like he’s got the biggest cock in the room.

“Are you okay?” Johnny asks, standing up from the booth to give you the space to escape your seat.

“Yeah, I just need to go outside for a moment,” you shake your head, turning to apologize to his friends before moving past the bunny hybrid and walking back down the stairs.

You can hear Johnny following you, but you’re in something of a rush as you weave through hybrids staring you down on the dance floor. When you get to the door leading to the front section, Mark stops you with a hand on your forearm. “Are you okay?” he asks, looking genuinely concerned.

“I’m fine, thank you-”

Johnny appears behind you, taking control of the situation as he tells Mark, “She just needs some air.”

The bunny hybrid lets you go, and you scurry to the front door, finally making your escape onto the street where you feel like you can finally take a breath.

Johnny stands two feet away from you, watching you with an empathetic expression. He gives you time to take a few deep inhales before reaching for your hand and pulling you to his chest. “Do you want to talk about it?” he asks.

“I’m sorry, I know I’m probably overreacting-”

“You’re not,” he assures you, cupping your face and giving you a soft smile.

“I just… I feel like… everyone should have a safe space, you know? And I worry that, as a human, being in that back section was sort of like… invading the sanctity of your hybrid only zone. I’m really sorry, John, but I’m not sure if I can go back in there.”

“That’s okay,” he nods. “Maybe I was being…” he searches for the word, “presumptuous tonight. I wanted you to meet my friends, but I didn’t think too hard about how you might feel in that environment. I’m sorry I put you in this situation.”

“Don’t be sorry,” you shake your head. “I’m sorry-”

“Well we can’t both be sorry,” Johnny grins. “So maybe neither of us should be. Maybe tonight just didn’t work out, but that’s okay.”

“Really?” Relief floods your system as you look up into Johnny’s soft brown eyes.

“Really,” he leans down to press a soft kiss to your lips. “What do you say about going somewhere else?”

“Somewhere else?”

“How about my place?” he suggests. “I was planning on inviting you after this, but we could go there now if you want. No pressure though.”

You take a deep breath before you find yourself nodding. “I think I’d like that.”

“Good.” His thumb smooths by your cheek.

“Do you have to go back inside to say goodbye to your friends? I feel bad about making them come down here to meet me only to run away-”

“Trust me, those two would be here watching their bunnies even if we didn’t come out tonight. I’ll just send them a text and explain the situation. We can always meet them another night, at another bar.”

“And you’re sure they won’t hate me?”

“I don’t think anyone could ever hate you, Bee. You’re much too sweet for that kind of reaction.” Johnny smiles. “In fact, I bet Hyuck will be impressed.”

“Really? Why?”

“Because you care so much about the sanctity of the hybrid zone. Much more than I do.”

“You really think your friends will be alright?”

“Without a doubt.” He leans down to press another sweet kiss to your lips, but this one lingers. When he finally pulls away, you’re left wanting more, but he’s already reaching behind himself to open the door to his car for you. “Let’s go, gorgeous. My house is nicer than this place anyways.”

Johnny’s right about his house, it’s much nicer than the club. You guess you shouldn’t be shocked that he’s got a place just out of town, nestled amongst the trees of the forest. It’s a sleek place to live, and you admire the wood detailing of the upgraded cabin like exterior.

“This is a big house,” you muse, as you follow Johnny up the stone steps.

“Too big for me, I think,” he admits. “But it was one of the only places I could find with acreage in the forest, and I wanted a space that felt like home, you know? Winnie loves it here, some nights she sleeps over and we have a fire in the back with s’mores, other days I take her on some of the hiking trails- my land connects with the national forest, and we’ve got easy access to one of the better hiking paths in the park.”

Your heart melts a little. You know Johnny is a fabulous uncle, but you hadn’t realized the true extent of it.

“I love how close you are with Winnie,” you admit. “It can be rare to find a single guy who’s so doting on his younger family members.”

“Then I’m glad we found each other,” Johnny grins. “I’ve had ex’s in the past who would get mad about the time I spend with Winnie, but not you. I really did appreciate how well you took her date crashing that other night.”

“Like I said, it wasn’t a problem. I had a wonderful time.”

Johnny flashes you a grin as he lets you into his house, and you marvel at the interior being as lovely as the outside had been.

“Wow…it feels even bigger inside,” you note. “Will you give me a tour?”

“Of course,” Johnny tosses his keys down on an entryway table, grabbing your hand to begin showing you around.

The lower level has a state of the art kitchen with french doors that open to the outside deck, and Johnny tells you about the barbecues he hosts here. “We even had a family reunion out back two years ago,” he admits. “I’ve got extra rooms, so my grandparents stayed here, and a few of my aunts and uncles- it was a really good time.”

“That sounds like a wonderful reunion,” you smile, enjoying how deep his love for family truly runs.

There’s a large dining room, and a living room with glass windows giving views to the forest. In the corner there’s even a toy chest, and Johnny explains how he bought so many things for Winnie through the years that he just started keeping some at his own house for the time she’d be here with him.

You love that he’s not a man afraid to share his space with a six year old, even if the toy chest does stand out amongst the other furnishings.

The second level is where the bedrooms are, and Johnny lets you peek into Winnie’s room, where there are even more toys overflowing in baskets.

Two more guest bedrooms brings the grand total of sleeping locations to a whopping four, and you can’t help but ask the question that’s on your mind. “Do you think you’d ever want to raise a family here? You’ve got more than enough space for it.”

“Oh, definitely,” Johnny nods. “Some days, when I’m here alone, I think about how much nicer it would be to have a few of my own cubs running around…” he licks his lips, pausing to look at you. “I don’t think we’ve ever talked about whether or not you’d want to have kids.”

“But I’m sure you can guess my answer,” you smile.

Johnny nods, grinning. “I bet you’d love to be a mom, and you’d be good at it, too.”

“Thank you,” you feel heat rising in your skin. “I guess my affection for kids is hard to hide, huh?”

“It’s sweet,” he tells you, “just another one of those perfect attributes of yours.”

He pulls you in for a kiss, and you melt against him, enjoying the warmth of his body.

When Johnny moves away, you’re in something of a daze, and you blink up at him.

“Saved the best room for last,” he tells you, reaching down to take your hand and lead you down the hallway to the final door.

His room truly is the most impressive of them all, a master bedroom if you’ve ever seen one. With floor to ceiling windows along an entire wall, and a large space fitting a bed as well as a seating area, tv and fireplace, you think you could be very satisfied spending a lot of time here.

“Wow, John,” you let out a breath. “I can’t believe this is real, I can’t believe you actually live here-”

“So you like it?” he questions, pressing his body against your back and wrapping his arms around you, head on your shoulder. “My bear cave?”

“If this is a cave, I never want to go back to a real house,” you laugh.

“I might hold you to that,” Johnny says, voice low.

You take a deep breath, closing your eyes to enjoy the feeling of being in his embrace. And that’s when you feel something hard beginning to press against your bum.

You swallow thickly, leaning back against him while you gain your courage. You know Johnny’s not the type to force anything on you, and something tells you that if you don’t make this first move, you might miss your chance.

Turning in his arms, you look up into Johnny’s chocolate brown eyes. Then you’re kissing him, putting all the passion that’s been brewing into the meeting of your lips. You thread your fingers through his soft hair, eager to get close to him, closer than you’ve ever been before.

You can definitely feel the outline of his cock against your abdomen now, and his hands reach down to find your hips, anchoring you to the front of his body while his tongue glides against your own.

“John,” you moan when his lips move to your neck, “I need you.”

“Yeah?” His tongue grazes your sweet spot and you shiver in his embrace, closing your eyes and enjoying the feeling of him.

“More than I’ve ever needed anything,” you tell him, meaning it with all of your heart.

With a groan, Johnny reaches down, grabbing your ass and prompting you to jump so you can wrap your legs around his hips. In just a few steps, he can lower you to his bed, and you expect him to follow, to press you against the mattress with his large body-

But instead, he pulls away, looking down at you with dark eyes filled with lust. “You’re perfect,” he whispers, reaching down to play with the bottom of your dress. “I’ve been dreaming about how you’ll taste on my tongue.”

Your pussy throbs at the idea, and you gaze up at him with a body alight in anticipation. “Then… then you should taste me, John.”

The bear hybrid lets out another groan, and then he’s falling to his knees on the edge of the bed, large hands grabbing at your legs to pull you closer.

His lips find your calf, and then your knee. When his face is between your thighs, his pretty ears brush your skin and make you shiver.

“Ticklish?” he grins, continuing to pepper your thighs with soft kisses.

“Very,” you confirm, reaching down to pull the skirt of your dress higher, revealing your underwear to the man between your legs.

“Shit, Bee,” Johnny says, voice shaky as he looks at your core. “You’re soaked through your panties,” at first, his words make heat rise through your body, embarrassment- but then Johnny’s taking a deep breath, and he looks up at you when he comments, “It’s so hot.”

His hands grab at your hips, and in one motion, he’s pulled your pussy to his mouth, tongue pressing against the light pink fabric of your underwear.

It feels amazing, but it’s also such a tease- you can feel the wetness of his own tongue, but it’s just out of reach.

“Johnny, please,” you whimper, pushing your hips forward, wanting more-

His nose brushes by your clit and your legs shake on his shoulders, a gasp of pleasure leaving you as you throw your head back and close your eyes.

His fingers hook in your panties, and it’s a relief when he finally pulls them down your legs, discarding them over his shoulder before diving into your pussy. This time, there’s no fabric in his way, and his tongue licks at you directly, a sensation that drives you completely wild.

“John, it’s so good-” you groan, feeling the need to praise the man who pushes his tongue into your core.

He moans in response, and the vibration has your body tingling. You could get lost in something like this, and you can already feel your mind going practically blank. All that matters is the here and now, you and Johnny.

His nose brushes your clit again and a squeal of delight escapes you, your hands flying to grab at his soft hair and fuzzy ears. “John-”

He pulls his tongue out of your wet hole, licking a full stipe of your pussy before he begins to circle your clit, and you swear you’re in heaven.

You can feel tension building in the pit of your stomach, and you know you’re not going to last long like this. No one’s ever eaten you out before with such vigor, such a need to have you like putty in his hands, and you’re more than happy to comply. In fact, you don’t think you’ll be able to help yourself.

His lips suction around your clit and your legs shake on his shoulders, your grip tightening in his hair, which only makes him groan again. You gasp at the feeling, pushing your hips up, needing more contact-

“I’m close,” you whisper, pussy throbbing as he worships your most sensitive spots.

Suddenly, you feel something else, a finger slipping into your tight hole, and you let out another sound of pleasure. One digit becomes two, and they crook up expertly, reaching a spot that has you crying out.

“That’s it,” Johnny says, pulling just off your pussy, breath teasing your entrance. “I want you to cum, Bee. Want you to cum so bad-”

You let out a strangled gasp from the praise, and when his lips return to your clit, fingers pumping in and out of your pussy, you know you’re going to be a goner.

You pull on his hair, legs shaking as you teeter on the edge of ecstasy. When Johnny growls, the vibrations are enough to send you over, and your pussy clamps down on his fingers, whole body overcome with pleasure that brings a tear to your eye due to the intensity of it all.

He continues his motions, helping you through your high until you’re wiggling in his gasp. His free hand smooths against your abdomen, keeping you still while his tongue and fingers begin to slow.

When he pulls his mouth away, you can finally take a full breath, shuddering in the aftershocks of one of the most intense orgasms of your life.

“You’re just like you were in my dreams,” Johnny tells you, pulling his fingers from your core to suck on. He lets out a groan at your taste. “Sweeter than honey.”

You shouldn’t be in love with Johnny only after three dates, but with lines like this one, you know you most definitely are. In the after haze or your orgasm, you can’t even find it within yourself to care that he has you wrapped around his finger.

“Johnny,” you whisper his name, opening your eyes to look at the man who’s now standing by the edge of the mattress. “Need you now.”

“Let me just grab condoms,” he tells you, heading for the bedside table while tugging his shirt off.

Your pussy throbs just at the sight of him. He’s so big and built and bear-like, in the best possible way-

He undoes his pants, pulling out a condom package that he opens with his sharp teeth. Part of you thinks you should be getting naked too, especially when his briefs come down to join the pants on the floor, but as you watch him roll the rubber onto his large cock, you think maybe he’d enjoy it if the dress stays on… for just a little longer.

When Johnny turns to join you on the bed, you pat the space next to you. He quirks a brow, but follows through, falling flat onto his back. You take the opportunity to mount him, knees digging into the mattress on either side of his hips while you adjust your skirts, letting them fall over you both delicately.

“You can take this off of me in a minute,” you tell him, leaning down to press a kiss to his lips, “but you’ve always told me how much you like my dresses, so I thought-”

“You look amazing,” Johnny confirms, grabbing at your hips and urging you to grind down against his cock, which is caught between your bodies. “My cute princess.”

“My big bear,” you smile, lips moving to his neck while you continue to swivel your hips.

Johnny lets out a groan of appreciation and you kiss him again, tasting yourself on his tongue. You reach under your dress, wrapping your fingers around his cock and squeezing, which earns another moan from the man who makes such perfect sounds.

“How am I going to fit this inside of me?” you ask.

“You can go slow,” he assures you, already panting from your hand alone.

You pull away from his lips, sitting up straight and lifting yourself so you can adjust him beneath you. As you begin to lower yourself on his cock, you find yourself moaning desperately from just the head and the way it stretches you out so well.

You’ve taken some well endowed men before, and the tactic that always worked was small bounces, allowing your pussy to get used to the intrusion as you slowly work your way to fullness. However, Johnny’s bigger than anyone you’ve ever had.

“Relax,” he tells you, rubbing circles on your hips through your dress. “Take your time, princess.”

But you don’t want to take your time, you want him inside of you, completely. You want to feel him everywhere, and soon, you’re fully sinking down on his cock, eagerly bending over to press your lips to his again while you both moan at the feeling.

You begin to ride him, thighs straining with the effort, but the reward is worth the muscle ache, and you get lost in the feeling of his cock splitting you open. Johnny begins to meet your thrusts, abdominal muscles flexing with effort while his tongue invades your mouth and he eats up your sweet sounds.

“As much-” Johnny breaks your kiss, gasping. “As much as I like your dress, I want to see you.”

You straighten again, easily pulling the fabric from your body so all that’s left is your bra. You begin to reach behind yourself to undo the clasp, but Johnny beats you to it, sitting up and easily removing the last piece of clothing keeping you from him.

“Shit,” Johnny groans, cupping one of your breasts with his large hand while his lips find your other nipple. His teeth graze the sensitive bud and you cry out, tangling your fingers in his hair while your pussy clenches around his cock.

Johnny moans beneath you, pulling his mouth from your breasts. He looks up at you with a wildly desperate expression. “Can I take over?” he asks, breathless. “I don’t think I can hold back anymore.”

“Please.” No sooner is the word out of your mouth than his hand is securing around the small of your back and he’s rolling you both, pressing you down against the mattress as his large body dwarfs your own.

“If it’s too much, let me know,” Johnny tells you, swallowing thickly while gazing down at your form. “I can be rough sometimes, even if I don’t mean to be.”

“I’m sure I’ll be okay,” you smile, cupping his face. “I’ve never actually said this before but… Big Bear, break my back like a glowstick.”

Johnny laughs. “You got it, Bee.”

His lips find your neck, and you close your eyes, grabbing at his strong shoulders as his hips begin to move.

Now that he’s on top, he’s somehow fucking you even deeper than before, and each glide of his cock against your inner walls has your toes curling in pleasure.

He sucks on your sweet spot, making you gasp as his movements get rougher and rougher, the bed beginning to rock from the force of his thrusts.

“John,” you whimper, body alight from the feeling of him, “Don’t stop-”

He only grins, fucking you harder, one hand lifting your leg higher on his hip so his cock can hit a spot deep inside of you that has you gasping-

“Oh my god-”

“Close already, Bee?” Johnny chuckles.

“You just feel so good,” you tell him.

You’ve never experienced anything like this, and you’re not sure if it’s due to his big cock, his ability to use it, or the fact that you actually sort of love the guy you’re literally making love to.

“That makes two of us,” Johnny says, kissing you again and taking your breath away.

You try to focus on his lips, to slow the orgasm building in the pit of your stomach, but it’s hard to distract from the cock that's splitting you open like nothing ever has before.

“Shit,” your bear hybrid breaks the kiss, resting his forehead against the crook of your neck, “If you keep making sounds like that, I’m not going to last long-”

“Me neither,” you confess, although he already knew that. “John… you’ll cum with me, right?”

“How could I ever say no to you?” he groans, fingers flexing against your hips. “You’re already so tight, if you cum, I don’t think I’ll be able to help myself.”

You moan at his words, stroking your fingers across his strong back. “Please, I’m so close-”

The bear hybrid practically growls, and the sound goes straight to your core, making you throb around his cock.

“You feel so good, I’m going insane-” you continue your praise, as every time you speak, he somehow fucks you harder. You’re not quite sure where he’s getting his stamina from, but you’ll never be one to complain about it.

Johnny lets go of your hip, and then he’s pushing his hand between your bodies, fingers finding your clit.

A strangled moan escapes you at the contact, your eyes clenching shut as your body is suddenly teetering on the edge-

“Cum for me, Bee,” he pants against your throat, “I can’t hold it any longer.”

Your entire body tenses as pleasure erupts through you, muscles screaming at how good everything feels. Gasping sounds slip past your lips, and you hold onto Johnny’s shoulders tightly, mind completely blank as the most intense orgasm of your life overtakes you.

The bear hybrid lets out groans of his own, hips twitching as he fills the condom, fucking you through all the pleasure. When he kisses you, you’re already breathless, and his lips don’t help the situation. You’re completely overwhelmed by Johnny, and you’ve never loved anything more.

As you come down from your highs, his thrusts slow, and he stills on top of you, cock buried deep in your pussy while you both catch your breaths.

“Wow,” Johnny says, laughing a little to himself as his kisses move to your neck again. “That was even better than my dreams.”

“You’ve been dreaming about me a lot, haven’t you, Big Bear?” you grin, tracing nothings on his shoulders.

“More than I care to admit.” He swallows thickly. “And something tells me the dreams will only continue.”

“They better,” you smile up at him when he pulls away from your throat.

“You’re perfect, you know that?”

“You’re not so bad yourself.”

With one last kiss to your lips, Johnny rolls off of you and stands up. You can’t help but watch him as he heads to the ensuite bathroom. His body is the most perfect thing you’ve ever had the pleasure of witnessing and experiencing.

You take a few breaths while you wait for him to come back, trying to ground yourself.

After the bathroom, Johnny heads into his walk-in closet, coming out a moment later in a pair of black briefs. “I got you a shirt,” he says, holding it out for you. “As much as I love that dress, I think this might be more comfortable for you.”

“Thanks, Big Bear,” you grin, taking it and putting it on. The fabric swallows you up, and you smile at how good it feels to be wearing his clothes.

“I was thinking…” he sits on the bed next to you, hand smoothing up your thigh, “I’m pretty hungry after that workout. Can I make us something to eat?”

“I’d love that,” you say, sitting up.

“Good,” he takes your hand and pulls you to your feet before finding your panties on the floor. “Here, you might want these too.”

You laugh, accepting the underwear and bending over to slip them on.

“So what’s on the menu, chef?” you ask, following him out of the bedroom.

“Well, I know it’s not much, but I was thinking avocado toast.”

“Sounds perfect,” you grin, padding down the stairs after him to the main floor.

In the kitchen, you take a seat at the large island table, watching him as he heads to the fridge and pulls out a few ingredients.

You’re once again struck by how wonderful the silences can be with John. There’s no pressure to fill them with words, and you can simply relax while you watch your Big Bear hybrid work.

His muscles are particularly enthralling as he pulls out a knife and opens the avocado, setting half of it down before he begins to peel off the skin.

“Look at you go,” you smile, “opening that bad boy like a pro.”

Johnny flashes you a look and then lets out a laugh. “I used to absolutely brutalize avocados,” he confesses. “Yuta’s dad owns a sushi restaurant in Japan, so he knows how to do all this cooking stuff. The first time he saw me open one of these he nearly had an aneurysm.”

“Was it that bad?”

“I used to leave the peel on, slice it up, and then try to scoop it out with a spoon,” Johnny grins at the memory. “So yeah, pretty bad.”

You’d never have guessed Johnny would have had such humble beginnings with knife wielding, but you suppose everyone starts somewhere.

You enjoy watching his hands while he works, laying the peeled avocado flat while he slices it in perfect chunks. He’d put bread in the oven at the start, and as he finishes up with the avocado, he pulls the pan of toast out, the colour a nice golden brown.

“Do you make this sort of thing often?” you ask.

“Often enough,” Johnny nods. “Winnie likes her avocados almost as much as her honey.” He places the green slices on the bread, using a fork to press them down before he grabs salt and pepper.

“Can’t wait to try it,” you grin.

“There’s just one last ingredient though,” Johnny tells you, finding a jar of honey sitting on the counter. You watch as he drizzles the golden liquid on top of the avocado, and you can’t help but find the bear hybrid incredibly charming. “There we go,” he smiles, putting all the pieces onto a plate before coming around the table to join you on the bar stools.

“Cheers,” you say, holding up one slice for Johnny to gently touch with his own.

“To the bears, the bees, and the honey that connects them,” he muses.

“To us,” you agree, picking up on the metaphor.

You know that there’s technically nothing special about avocado toast, but it’s still one of the best things you’ve eaten in ages, and you find yourself groaning after the first bite.

“Is it really that good?” Johnny laughs, watching your expressions with a smile.

“Better than good,” you confirm. “If running a club doesn’t work out, you could always be a chef.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Johnny nods with a smile. “You haven’t even tried my barbecue yet.”

“Something tells me you know how to handle your meat.”

The bear laughs at your comment, and you realize too late the sexual connotation of your words.

“I didn’t mean-” you go to correct yourself, but you end up face palming instead, letting out a groan.

“You’re too cute,” Johnny assures you, resting a hand on your knee. “Hey, listen, if you want me to drive you home, I can, but… how would you feel about staying the night?”

“Really?” you blink at him.

He nods. “Really.”

“I think I’d love that,” you admit.

“Perfect, then it’s settled. Mi casa es su casa.”

You smile at the notion of his house being your house. “Since when did you speak Spanish?”

“There’s still a lot you don’t know about me.” His thumb rubs circles on your thigh.

“Well,” you reach down to cover his hand with your own, “I can’t wait to find out more.”

Johnny had closed the blinds last night, so when you wake up in a literal man cave, you kind of want to see the sun. However, Johnny looks so peaceful lying next to you, his plump lips just slightly parted, his fluffy ears twitching from whatever is happening in his dream land- and you think it would be a shame to wake him so abruptly to the light.

You take the time to appreciate him, wondering how you ever got so lucky to end up where you are now. You’d always had a crush on him, but you’d never expected it to be anything more.

You’re so happy that he’d felt the same way you had. If he’d never made a move and asked you out, well- you don’t want to think about that.

When you shift ever so slightly, Johnny’s eyes open, and he squints at you, letting out a groan. “Are you okay?” he asks, voice gruff from sleep.

“I’m perfect,” you tell him. “Are you waking up now?”

“It’s too early,” Johnny grunts, pulling you closer and burrowing his face in your neck.

“I guess I’m used to waking up at this time,” you note.

“Do you have to go? Is there work?”

“I’m thinking of calling in sick, that is… if you want me to spend the day with you.”

“Fuck, yes please.” His breath is hot against your throat.

“I’m just going to step out to make the call, and when I come back, do you mind if I open these blinds? I know this is your bear cave and all, but if you’re going to sleep a little longer, I’d love some light to read a book or something.”

Johnny only groans, but you take it as an affirmative as you untangle yourself from his grasp.

Five minutes later, the room is lit with sunshine and you’re slipping into bed next to him again. Your family has always been extra close with the owner of Queen B’s Honey, so calling in had been simple, and you’re excited about what your day with Johnny will bring.

You’ve found a book to read, some fiction off Johnny’s bookshelf, and when you get under the covers, Johnny is quick to cuddle up next to you again. “Can I put my head in your lap?” he asks, voice as groggy as ever.

“Of course, Big Bear,” you smile, adjusting to allow him to curl up next to you. He lets out a deep breath once he’s settled, and you smooth your hands through his hair, gently scratching at the base of his ear.

Johnny lets out a deep groan. “Feels good.”

He falls asleep just seconds later, and you continue stroking him while you read.

Time flies by, and you’re not sure how long you’ve been reading when Johnny finally wakes up again. He lets out a soft groan, cuddling closer to your side. “Good morning.”

“Hi, sleepy bear.”

“I had dreams about you,” he says softly.

“You did?”

“Uh huh,” his hand strokes by your thigh.

“What happened in your dream?” you press, gently scratching his fluffy ear.

Johnny lets out a laugh. “Maybe I shouldn’t talk about it.”

“Was it something bad?”

“Something good,” he confirms. “It involved a few cubs running around.”

Your heart thumps wildly in your chest. “Wow, John, I didn’t know you were really thinking that far ahead in the future for us.”

“I can’t help it,” he confesses, rolling onto his back to look up at you. “I know we’ve only had a few dates, but… well, I’ve been into you for months. It’s at a point where I don’t even really look at other girls, and I’m fine if you don’t want to be exclusive or anything-”

“Who said I don’t want to be exclusive?”

A lazy smile covers Johnny’s face, and he sits up, cupping your cheek in his warm hand. “You really want to give this a try?”

“I’d be stupid not to, don’t you think?”

“I mean… I’ve met girls who will only see me as a hybrid, as someone to mess around with for a little while before finding a human partner again. I wouldn’t blame you if you couldn’t see a future for us.”

“Oh, John,” you shake your head, “I’m not like those other girls.”

“I guess not,” he leans in, pressing his lips to yours.

You feel so blessed to be able to give this a shot with Johnny, a real shot. It’s all you’ve ever wanted, and as he pulls you into his arms, you have a feeling that everything is going to work out better than either of you could possibly imagine.

☀️ mlist + an. thank you for reading! If you've made it to the end and want something else to read, check out Hyuck's hybrid fic here, or more of Nikki's work on her masterlist here

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🔮 preview. “Give me a sec and I’ll pull off to a residential street,” he tells you, flicking his turn signal on. “It will take a minute or two longer to get home, but something tells me you won’t mind.” He’s literally the perfect man, and you’re working to get his zipper undone the moment you’re off the main road. Johnny lifts his hips, helping you tug his jeans down just enough to get at your prize.

cw/ tw. Exhibitionism, blowing Johnny while he drives, hand job, sex outside in the forest on a car, car sex, unprotected sex, breeding kink, dirty talk, praise, quickie, etc… I pet names: (hers) Bee, Princess. (his) Big Bear, John.

👹 rating. 18+ explicit I wc. 2k I teaser wc. 350

🌙 staring. Johnny x afab!reader

bonus

Going to a baseball game is one of your favourite family outings. Between you, Johnny, his sister, and his sister’s husband, the four adults can handle the four cubs that run around you like excitable little rascals at all times.

Hotdogs and popcorn are cheap, and Winnie, as the oldest of the group of kids, spends the whole game explaining what’s happening to your sons, who are much too young to care about baseball.

You and Johnny sit on either side of Winnie, each holding a wiggling three year old twin in your arms. Winnie’s mom and her dad are in the row just in front of you, their own two year old in their grasp.

“So now,” the nearly ten year old Winnie explains to the toddler in your arms, “the bases are fully loaded, and the game is almost over, so the guy with the big bum has to make this hit-”

Johnny murmurs the name of the player up to bat, but Winnie ignores him. She has names for each man on the pitch, and it just so happens that the man swinging has the biggest butt.

The crack of the ball against the bat alights the stadium in cheers as everyone at their bases begin to run, and Johnny stands, holding his toddler while he watches. His baseball cap is backward, but it’s still clear by the jersey he’s wearing that he’s a home pitch superfan. “Go, go, go!” he screams. “Run, butt guy, run!”

You love him, and your perfect family.

You stand too, as this last run of the game is important to your evening plans. If your home team wins, Johnny’s sister will take your twins for the night and give you and Johnny some alone time. However, if her away team wins, you and Johnny are on babysitting duty.

“Go, butt guy! Go!” Winnie cheers, and you find it almost comical how the little girl has no clue that she’s helping cheer on the odds of her sweet Uncle John getting laid.

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contentloadingandstuff · 7 months

Text

Lisa, Kujou Sara and Ningguang caring for a sick S/O

A/N: Just some short and silly headcanons since I'm a little ill. The characters were picked by The Wheel. Don't ask why ALF is on the cover.

Lisa

"Don't worry, sweetie. Mommy Lisa will take very good care of you~"

Enough said, Lisa is an expert at potion crafting. As soon as she notices you're sick, you'll have one of her most effective tinctures delivered to you in no time. It's bitter, but it will help - you'll be frolicking again in just a few days. If it helps, she'll be more than happy to spoon feed it to you!

Nothing helps the body quite like a rich broth. Add some chicken, boil with carrots and top it off with some fresh marjoram straight from the windowsill, and viola - just like that you have yourself a tasty revitalizing soup. Lisa doesn't like eating meat, but she knows how important proteins are for recovery.

Tending to you is a great opportunity to pamper the absolute life out of you. Tissues and medicine? Right on the spot. Feeling peckish? Here, let her feed you. Thirsty? The best tea will be brought directly to you. Sleepy? Lisa will tuck you in, or let you rest your head on her thighs if you want to. You will have everything you need and even more without having to move an inch.

Lying in bed is important - it lets your body sleep and regain strength. Still, boredom strikes sometimes. Lisa will provide you with a few books from her personal collection. If you're too tired to read yourself, she will do it out loud. Her narration skills are really something special, and will keep you entertained for hours on end, or until you doze off in her caring arms.

Kujou Sara

“The medic will be here shortly. Do you need tea or a cold compress?”

Although Sara isn’t well-known for her caring nature, she really does worry about you. Inazuma’s climate tends to be quite harsh, with all the frigid sea winds blowing through the islands day by day. Even a minor ailment can quickly turn into a long-term illness in these conditions, so she will convince you to stay home when the first symptoms appear.

If you work in the military, your leave will be signed by her without further issues. If you’re working in the civilian market, however, she won’t restrain from using her position to ensure your leave is approved by your boss. Because who in their right mind would argue with the Tengu General herself?

It has been some time since the conclusion of the Inazuman civil war, so most work regarding that period is far behind her. Sara’s general duties revolve mainly around paperwork - reading through inventory reports, approving funding requests and purchases as well as some officer training meetings every now and then. Thanks to that fact, she can work from home and keep an eye on you.

Sara isn’t the best of cooks, so most meals will be handled by your maids. This doesn’t mean she won’t contribute to your recovery. She will check up on you frequently, whether to see if you’re taking your medicine correctly, or just to keep you company.

Of course she will call a physician to examine you, and buy all the necessary medicine - she has an immense pile of money saved up due to her fairly modest lifestyle.

One thing though - she’s sleeping on the couch. Sara can’t afford to get ill herself, even if it means forcing you to recover in a cold bed. Don’t you worry, she will give you more than enough affection to make up for that shortage once you’re back in full health.

Ningguang

“Don’t worry, my dear. You will get better soon. Meanwhile, why don’t you try another cup of tea? I am sure it will help.”

Ningguang is a busy woman who has no time for sickness. But you? She’ll make sure you get the proper rest, else your weakened body will fall to another illness. There will be no work for you until you are fully recovered - just like Sara, Ningguang will not hesitate to pull a few strings to make sure you can rest without worry.

Baizhu will deliver only his best products, as money is hardly a concern for Ningguang. Every Mora used to help you get better is a Mora well-spent in her eyes.

Although not a doctor by any means, Ningguang will use some homemade remedies as well - especially white tea with two spoonfuls of honey. The warm sugary drink will surely bring back your strength in no time… or at least lift your spirits.

She will check up on you from time to time, yes, but will not take a day off. Liyue needs her, and there’s always money to be made.

Ningguang will make sure to keep her distance - even if it is just a cold, it could affect her as well and make her work that much more annoying. That means no cuddles until you’re healthy - but, with the best medicine money can buy, you’ll be in her arms in no time.

Thanks for reading!

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wardenparker · 10 months

Text

The Viper’s Bride - ch 5

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

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

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

Ch 1 ~ Ch 2 ~ Ch 3 ~ Ch 4

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

******

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

******

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

______

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utilitycaster · 7 months

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VERY glad that Evontra’vir said “the titans are dead” because like there are currently living beings that will suffer if Ludinus’s plan succeeds and they just don’t seem to matter compared to titans that died a millennia ago??? (After trying to wipe out mortals themselves)

Hey anon,

Agreed. The thing about the titans coming up is that it does, actually, make a lot of sense for the two characters who have been most vocal about it - Ashton and Laudna - to feel this way! But it doesn't come from a rational place; it comes from profound trauma and loss about which they can't be objective.

Taliesin talked about this on 4-Sided Dive: Ashton is grabbing on desperately to the one piece of information they know now about their missing childhood and is "leaning into it...probably before he should." We know this about them; Ashton's been emblazoning themself with the Hishari and Dunamancy symbols without having a single clue what they were. The titans are part of that. Did you notice how he keeps saying "things are changing" and didn't actually like...provide any meaningful information? Again to quote 4SD: "...there's not a lot of judgment happening about whether or not that's a good thing or not, and what it actually means." Like, I think that, based on Ashton's past position of "don't kill everyone for your goals, that is shitty" if they did stop, and process, and set aside that strong emotional factor that's in play (which is not something I'd expect them to be able to do easily!) They'd realize that the titans returning, were that possible, would be cataclysmic. But that's not what they're thinking about right now. I think Evontra'vir bluntly stating that the titans are dead was a needed splash of cold water on that line of thinking.

My thought re: Laudna is that it's slightly more metaphorical. Consider her backstory: a conquering force swept in and destroyed most of what had been there before. She is a relic both of that earlier time and of that conquering force, and the subjugation she experienced never truly stopped, even though Whitestone has moved on. Of course she'd see herself in the titans in the telling of stories about the titans! People like Percy get to return and revitalize and build a new family and grow old and happy and die, despite their trauma, and she's caught between life and death forever. Of course she'd relate to some half-buried thing that people call monstrous and ancient and displaced! But that doesn't actually help her do anything about her situation and it's not a philosophy that really is useful in understanding the larger geopolitical (and, frankly, cosmic) reality happening right now, because, yeah, if you let the titans back, people will die.

For both these characters - who have spoken to each other about being physically altered and left for dead, alone, in ways no one else can quite understand, I think there's something immensely seductive about the idea of something older than the gods, something defeated but could rise again, which both is relatable to their own situations and comes neatly packaged with a reason why it didn't save you when you called out. But it's still a fantasy. It's not real, it's not going to happen, and so it's important that Evontra'vir, who as Jirana said, does not mince words, called it out for what it is. The titans are dead. Something of their essences does remain for you to use to make a choice. You are going to have to do this using your own judgment; you are doing the saving; stop worrying about the dead and start thinking about what you will do to serve the living.

I think an emerging theme of this campaign - and arguably a secondary theme of the past campaigns, and really, the theme of D&D if you think about it, is that the person you developed into because of your trauma, and the coping mechanisms and behaviors and presentation you developed as a result may eventually cease to serve you once you find a support network and begin to be given more and more agency within the world; and indeed, if you cling to these things they will begin to hurt those around you, and eventually you as well. I think "The Titans are dead" is one way to very, very bluntly and effectively communicate that.

#answered #Anonymous #critical role spoilers #ashton greymoore #laudna #re the last paragraph i do find that this campaign the fandom voice in favor of NO WHAT IF I NEVER NEED TO CHANGE is louder #or perhaps i just had it better tuned out in c2 or perhaps the nein made a more inhospitable growth medium for that particular breed of mol #anyway. evontra'vir was right. titans are dead. nice dichotomy idiot. what lies outside it.#critical role

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ohraicodoll · 1 year

Text

Possession | Chapter 1

Chapters: 1/5 Fandom: The Sandman (Comics & TV 2022) Rating: Mature Relationships: Dream of the Endless | Morpheus/Original Female Character, Dream/Reader Characters: Dream of the Endless | Morpheus, Original Female Character, Matthew the Raven, Lucienne, Calliope, Mervyn Pumpkinhead Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI, Explicit Sexual Content, Past Abuse, Abusive Relationships, Possessive Behavior, Domestic Violence, Jealousy, Trauma Responses Tags: Complicated Relationships, General complicated feelings, Dream is an IDIOT, they both have baggage, Past Relationships, Angst, OFC: Dahlia,1st POV Summary: In which Morpheus has a temper, jealousy is a problem, and past relationships never stay in the past. 3rd in the Fragments Series | Read on AO3 Writing Masterlist Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 Previous in Series: Touch Starved Next in Series: Interwoven

CHAPTER 1: Being Clever Never Got Me Very Far

( General warnings for this chapter: sexual content, toxic relationships, mentions of abuse)

Balancing the waking world and the Dreaming remained a challenge and one that Lord Morpheus wasn’t making any easier. Despite his admonishments about the negative impacts of Dream Walking on my everyday life, he had effectively shoved that under the rug now that he had me to himself every night. It was hard to focus on keeping up mundane things like a job and bills and friendships when at night you could travel anywhere and see anything plus had an immortal being driving you nuts in the best possible way. The vibrant colors of the waking world, revitalized by meeting Dream, had started to gray again and I was having to force myself to keep to normal sleeping hours and not waste the day away. The laundry was piling up, dishes needed to be done, and I needed to do something with myself. As much as I wished he would, I rarely saw Morpheus outside of dreams as he was still working on rebuilding his realm and attending to his duties. Occasionally, he would meet me at the café he’d surprised me at so long ago, both when I thought he was going to kill me and after our first time together. I had to get over my awkwardness at being the only one to eat, but he drank coffee and would tell me about the lives of the people that walked passed. He knew their dreams just by looking at them and in turn, knew their lives. My mind wandered to Lucienne’s library, to my small book kept there and its blank pages. Maybe that was part of his fascination with me, that he didn’t know my life. Everything was nice. It wasn’t healthy to be around each other 24/7 afterall and he had a job to do, same as me. Just on vastly different scales. Besides, he had no obligation to see me. We were casual lovers, or fuck buddies as I had deemed us crudely once, something he took offense to but didn’t necessarily argue against. He craved affection even if he didn’t say so with words. My need to be around him was just the newness of it, that constant pull to be next to him and touch him. It was a mutually beneficial relationship that lacked any sort of commitment. Dream of the Endless had seen all there was, had existed longer than most of the stars. It was hard not to be enraptured by that. So I forced myself to be good with what I got. It would fade and I would be able to be more productive, balance things better. I had begun to write again or attempt to, with Lucienne’s encouragement that my work was good. I had a lot of mental and emotional blocks when it came to writing, ones I didn’t want to get into yet, and I was grateful to have support both in the waking world and the Dreaming. More effort was put into my job at the book publisher, taking on more responsibilities in the hope that when I did have something decent I could show them. I even let Anissa, my coworker, take me to after work drinks though I suspect it was mostly an attempt to get me to spill the details on Morpheus or to get me to date one of our coworkers. She had been the one to encourage having some “fun” after my breakup and I was very bad at hiding that I had, in fact, followed that advice. Just not in the way she suspected. Things were okay. They were fine. But it was only a matter of time before our own hang ups would begin to surface. My life, my history, was unknown to him and I was a bit grateful. I’m not sure how I would feel if he knew everything about me and I knew hardly anything from him. It also meant he couldn’t see all the baggage there. We both had it. He had said he had had past relationships, obviously from being eons old, had told me about Killala that first talk while comparing cheating exes. Had bonded over mutual pain and disrespect. But beyond that, the details of our lives remained blank to each other. Stories and nothing more. I should have noticed when I saw maintenance go in and out of my neighbor Janine’s apartment that she had moved out. She had downright started avoiding me at all costs after I caught her in my bed with my then boyfriend, Thomas. The same boyfriend whose dream I then went into and broke one of the rules, smashing everything to bits and causing Morpheus to find me for the first time. I guess I should have thanked her for the introduction if she wasn’t a miserable hag. I’d seen her dreams, seen the countless escapades she had all the while knowing they were attached and she didn’t care. If she had wanted Thomas, she could have him. But now, I was mostly relieved that she was finally gone and I could walk through the hallway of my complex with ease. Coming home after work, my neck ached from stress and I towed off my shoes at the door, dropping my bag to the ground in a heap. Taking on more responsibilities at work meant my brain was mush by the time I made the walk home and it was a lesson in focus to not just daydream the day away. I had the whole weekend ahead though which meant I didn’t have to set an alarm and could stay in the Dreaming however long I wanted. It sounded divine after the stressful week I had. I was finally getting the hang of Dream Walking after a few more actual lessons from Morpheus, though he still loved to distract me. I was even getting better at doing it without using doors, even if my aim wasn’t always accurate and I had to bounce around a few times. If the dreamlord wasn’t with me, I still liked to imagine them because it was easier on my brain. Tonight I was going to explore more of the Dreaming beyond just Morpheus’ chambers and he could come along or mope on his own. A knock sounded at the door just as I was about to change out of my work dress, causing me to pause. No one ever came to visit. The number of friends I had could be counted on one hand, I had no family, and no one I knew made unexpected social calls. Frowning, I padded quietly over to the door and stood on my toes to look through the peephole at whoever was knocking. Maybe maintenance got the wrong door or something. You gotta be fucking kidding me. Thomas stood there, brown hair disheveled and button up shirt wrinkled. Even through the tiny window, he looked pathetic and I was almost certain it was on purpose. He liked to be prim and proper, even outside of work, unless he wanted something. The man had hardly ever had anything bad happen to him so he liked to play at being a victim whenever he could. It was mind boggling now, two months later, that I had stayed with him for over a year. “Then why did you stay with him?” Morpheus’ words bounced back in my head. Because he wasn’t the worst. Because he was interested in me. Because I was dumb and lonely and he made the world colorful at least for a bit. But even looking back now, that color paled in comparison to anything I felt now. I had blocked him from everything after waking up from his dream, the image of the King of Dreams sitting in the corner of an imagined bar after I had smashed everything to bits still fresh. Thomas had tried to reach out, though not very hard, but I ignored him and even when he showed up to my workplace, reception had shooed him away. It wouldn’t have surprised me if his attention had then turned to Janine and now that she was gone, most likely kicking him to the curb, here he was. I chewed on my lip, debating what I should do. Knocks reverberated through the door again, louder this time and I winced. “Dahlia, please, I know you’re in there,” his muffled voice shouted through the wood. I groaned inwardly. Fuck, if Matthew had been keeping an eye on him or me still then he at least could had warned me Thomas was coming. He knocked again and I knew my neighbors were going to get curious if he kept it up. “Dahl, please. Just hear me out!” Thomas shouted, a pathetic edge to his voice. I wanted to slam my head into the door, bemoaning my luck. Bracing myself, I sighed and unlocked the door, opening it only partly and blocking the view into the apartment. “What?” I bit out with pressed lips and annoyance painting my face. The guy looked worse closer up, shirt a mess and eyes a little bloodshot. He also reeked of booze which sent my body on high alert instantly. Anxiety and fear, old and familiar, sank into my bones. “Please,” he repeated, taking a step towards the door, “Can I come inside so we can talk?” “No,” I crossed my arms and leaned against the door jam, teeth clenched. My patience with him was thin and after time apart, my backbone had strengthened again. I had put up with a lot, hadn’t screamed or raged in his face when I had caught him naked in my bed. He was lucky that all I did was smash his dream, which I’m sure he had no recollection of. “Dahl-” “I’m sorry, you don’t get to ask for anything from me,” the growl that left my throat cut him off, eyes slightly wide at the tone, “You can say what you want to say here or I can shut the door in your face and you can leave.” His throat bobbed as he swallowed. He had never dealt with this side of me. Most arguments between us I had let slide, not feeling up to putting in the effort and letting him get his way. It was always easier than to fight, a lesson I had learned a long time ago. But it had fueled his ego and he thought me to be small and docile. That part I was willing to claim was my fault, but now- now I had teeth and I wasn’t afraid to bare them. “I’m sorry,” Thomas started, “What I did was selfish and awful and I am an asshole.” “A few months late, but so far not arguing against that,” I commented, glaring. “I miss you, Dahl,” he pressed on and stepped even closer, only a foot away now, “Please, I want us to work-” “No you don’t,” I cut him off. The indignation was plain on my face as I sneered at him, “You made your choice, Thomas. There is no working it out. You fucked another person in my home and are barely putting in the effort to apologize now? You’re not sorry, you just want me to be your safety net because you thought I was a pushover.” That barely concealed anger was in his eyes and he shoved a hand through his shaggy hair, “That’s not true. I love you-” “Oh get the fuck out of here with that bullshit,” I scoffed, finally fed up with wasting my time and hearing the crap pouring out of his mouth, I moved to shut the door. But his foot shot out, blocking the way, and before I could process it he had pushed into the apartment and shut the door behind him. The movement had been fast, calculated, and I cursed myself for even opening the door and not just calling security to kick him out. Even though he smelled of alcohol, his motor functions were still sharp and I should have made sure my guard stayed up. I knew better. Now my heart was hammering and I stepped back, putting space between us as he blocked the door. My mind tried to run through a dozen different scenarios, strategies, paths to either get him out or get away. There was pepper spray in my bag, I could run for it or the bedroom and lock myself in, under the couch was a baseball bat I kept just in case. He was drunk and could never take no for an answer and I should have been more aware. Thomas raised his hands like he was calming a riled horse, placating but voice desperate, “I only want to talk, you won’t let me talk! Please, you need to hear me out.” “I don’t have to do anything, Thomas,” my voice was steady but firm, one foot sliding behind me so I could pivot for the bedroom if I needed to, “You are going to get the fuck out of my apartment. Now.” “Stop, Dahlia, I want you back!” Though he was pleading, his hands clenched and unclenched and annoyance vibrated through him at my continual refusal, “I’m not leaving until you listen.” His eyes were wild and I knew he was on that edge of being reasonable or doing something we both may regret. Men like him didn’t consider consequences because they had never experienced them and that made him dangerous. I felt the slight breeze first before the ripple of power swelled over my skin, blanketing it and wrapping me in its first embrace while blazing through the room in hot fury. I didn’t have to turn to look behind me to know Morpheus was standing there, anger coming off him in waves and presence darkening the doorway. My breath caught in my throat. I had only ever felt his actual anger once, in the nightmare where we finally confronted each other. It had been all encompassing, those black eyes piercing right into my soul and stars bright enough it could burn me away. I watched hesitantly as a bit of fear entered Thomas’ eyes at last and though I knew I shouldn’t, I felt satisfaction at seeing it there. The Dream King entered the room from the bedroom where he definitely had not been a few minutes ago and stepped quietly next to me, hand brushing mine and long black coat grazing my legs from his proximity. Too close to be casual, definitely not after leaving my bedroom, and a clear outward sign of who he was to me. Thomas tried to hold his ground and kept his chin raised but I could see the tension there as he looked back and forth between us and took him in. The brown haired man didn’t stack up, could never compare. Morpheus was a storm at my side, voice quiet but powerful, “You will leave, Thomas McNara. Now.” I resisted the urge to look up at him, could easily feel the building anger he was holding back the longer my ex didn’t do as he commanded. He was dangerous, a volcano ready to devastate, and it was all targeted at one person. But Thomas was never the smartest and was too dumb to know when to back down. Brown eyes swiveling back to me, he scoffed and scrunched up his face incredulously, “Are you serious, Dahl? This is who you got with-” The one step forward the dreamlord took was enough to cut him off, the air growing thin in the room as Dream advanced and snarled, “Keep silent. You have ignored every word she has spoken, disrespected her, and entered her home uninvited. You are pitiful.” Morpheus glared down at him, blue eyes dark as he looked down his nose at the human whose bravado was crumpling by the second. Energy crackled and in that moment, even in the waking world, he looked every bit the ancient, powerful being that he was. Thomas could see it then, that he had drawn the attention of something that was far greater than he could ever imagine and had its ire. “I have seen your dreams, Thomas McNara,” the Lord of Dreams hissed and took another step towards him, “You treat women as toys and want what you cannot have. I assure you, she is not yours to possess and never will be again. Leave now and count yourself lucky I am being merciful for her sake for I could do far, far worse . ” Thomas’ brown eyes almost flicked to mine but he kept himself from looking at me, face pale with fear and sweat sliding down his temple. One step, then two, and he backed away to the apartment door and left, fumbling along the way and tripping out the door into the hallway. The door shut with a loud bang that echoed through the space. The tension didn’t immediately leave now that we were alone. Dream was a bow string pulled too tight, threatening to unleash at any moment. I swallowed hard and reminded my brain that the rage was in my defense and not directed at me. I didn’t have anything to fear from him, but I had never dealt with this kind of anger easily. I blinked and it was someone else standing in his stead, fists clenched tight and eyes drilling holes into my skin as if he could skin me alive with just a look. I blinked again and the image melted away, leaving just the King of Dreams standing with his back to me with his coat so black it looked like the abyss. Taking a few deep breaths, I grounded myself and focused on what was happening now, trying to forget the brief flash of memory. With a few steps, Dream’s coat was within reach and I gently trailed my fingers down his shoulder and arm until cool skin met mine. He didn’t react at first, hands hanging at his side, but I slowly intertwined one hand with his and gave it a squeeze as I rested my cheek against his shoulder blades. In a breath, the tension slowly seeped from him and I hugged him fully from behind, able to breathe easier as his power pulled back into him and the air cleared. “Are you okay?” I asked into his coat, hand in his and the other wrapped tightly around his waist from behind. He was so thin, but lean muscles tensed along his back and under my cheek. He was always the one to wrap himself around me, so the change in stance was new and one I enjoyed. A dark chuckle left him and I could feel the reverberations through his back, “Am I not supposed to ask you that instead?” I hugged him tighter and felt comforted when his free hand caressed my arm gently and he sank into the touch, “I’m okay, I’m safe, nothing happened. I haven’t ever seen him that…crazed, but he was just drunk. Even if you didn’t show up, I could have gotten him out. But thank you for coming to defend my honor, your highness.” I made my tone as light as possible, joking in the hopes he would come down from his anger if he saw that I wasn’t freaking out. I could practically hear the thoughts churning in his mind, replaying the situation over and over again, but at last, he relaxed. Keeping my hand in his, he turned to face me and pressed a kiss to the back of my hand. I could see it now, the remnants of whatever Thomas had seen and feared. Though his eyes were still blue, the endless night sky peaked there, fathomless and encompassing and terrifying. His skin had paled to that marble tone he had in the Dreaming, lips pressed in a thin line. He looked like a god, glorious and terrible. My heart raced as I took him in and I found it hard to swallow, knowing that this otherworldly creature held interest in me, had come to make sure I was safe. “She is not yours to possess.” The words echoed through me as I stared at him, a complicated feeling bouncing around. He noticed brow furrowing and a hand coming to rest on my cheek, elegant pianist fingers brushing my bangs from my eyes, “I can recognize when something is troubling you. What is it?” I chewed on my bottom lip, trying to think. Our relationship was…strange. Seeing an anthropomorphic personification came with zero rules unlike every other relationship I’d been in. There was no talking about what we were, boundaries, commitments. Exclusivity. We’d simply gone along with it, letting attraction and desire lead us, but feelings were avoided. Feelings were going to remain avoided, but him coming and stepping in. That had been something. I realized it then that it wasn’t fully rage he had been feeling or that had caused him to bare his teeth at Thomas. It was possessiveness. “You said-” I swallowed, trying not to choke on the words, “you said I wasn’t his to have.” Those blue eyes of his had settled, becoming more human-like, but I could see the flash of want and apprehension there, “Was I wrong?” Despite my trepidation, heat pooled low in my belly at the tone, “I don’t know, you tell me.” He stepped closer, chest pressed against mine and hand trailing down from my cheek to lightly wrap around my neck. My heart beat loudly in my ears and my body was tingling, sensitive to each touch of his skin on mine and shooting lightning down my nerve endings. Possessiveness had always been a double edged sword for me. Too much was toxic, restricting, frightening. Had destroyed me one suspicious look at a time and caused so much pain. But on the other hand, I wanted to be Dream’s. Wanted to know that I had been deemed worthy enough of the Lord of Dreams’ attention and not only that, that he wanted me all to himself. His head lowered, nose skimming along mine and breath mingling there, “While you are your own person, little dreamer, and are free to do as you wish, I will warn you- I do not share.” The words were low and dark and trailed along my skin like the edge of a feather, making me swallow a moan. “I give you this choice now, Dahlia Morrowland, ” Morpheus continued, my name whispered along my lips as he tilted my chin up to meet his eyes under lowered lids, baring the long expanse of my neck, “If you wish to have other lovers, we can end this game now. You are welcome in the Dreaming, in my palace, and I will not fault you. I will not deny you my presence… but if you wish for us to continue, I am afraid I will not be able to help myself. You will be mine and mine alone.” I shivered at the dark promise, breath catching in a way I’m sure he knew. My skin felt tight and hot and all I could focus on was the simple loose wrap of his fingers on my neck like he was branding me. His words rattled through me, setting flame the parts of me I wished for him to touch. I managed to swallow and meet his gaze, the heady want there reflected in my own, “I’m not ending this. And just so you know, I don’t share either. You are mine, dreamlord, if you wish to be.” He smirked, the slightest tilt of his lips, at the declaration before tightening his grip on my neck and pulling me to him, lips crushing. It was his own answer, his own agreement. Yes, yes, he did wish for that. My hand left his and wrapped around his neck as I stood on my toes to reach him, tongue delving into his mouth and moaning into him. His own caressed mine, sucking and teasing while completely devouring me. Dream in the waking world was different than in the Dreaming. He was tangible, real, made of true flesh, tasting of honey and mint, and smelling of early morning rain. And for the first time, he was in my apartment. He was mine. Mine. And I was his and it felt like too much and not enough all at once. The Dream King trailed his hands to my thighs and in a quick move, lifted me, my legs instinctively wrapping around his waist as he carried my weight easily. The hard press of his arousal was against me and I gasped into his mouth as he pushed me against the wall, back jolting at the contact. He deepened the kiss, ravenous and impatient. It was a frenzy of teeth and lips, his mouth leaving mine to kiss his way down my neck as his lips sucked at the pulse there. His teeth bit gently and I moaned, heat shooting through me sharp and sudden. The skin would be dark and apparent tomorrow, I knew that, but something deep and primal was pleased at the mark. Let them see. My fingers ran through his hair, dark and soft, and lightly grazed my long nails along his scalp until he moaned against me to my satisfaction. I had learned that he loved the feel of nails scratching, the sharpness against his skin, and his head was extra sensitive. He rocked against me and I hissed at the feel of him against me, separated my layers of clothing. I unwrapped my legs from his waist and braced myself, hands going to his jeans to get them unbuttoned and off of him. His own hands went to the hem of my dress, squeezing my exposed thighs and finding my drenched underwear. I moaned loudly as he cupped my sex, savoring the arousal wetting the fabric there. Running fingers up and down the thin covering, I gasped and twitched at how sensitive I was already. I was trembling, fingers shaking as I finally got his pants free and pulled the zipper down. We were getting impatient, the real world limitations meaning he couldn’t just magic our clothes away. With a quick jerk, he ripped the panties off easily, dropping the scrap of fabric to the floor as I lowered his jeans and freed his pulsing erection from them. “Excuse you. I liked those,” I growled at him. My hand wrapped around his cock, pleased with the way he jerked into my hand and hissed out a moan under his breath. His skin was the texture of velvet, soft to the touch but hard in my hand, and I savored each delicious stroke and ragged breath that left Morpheus’ mouth. My mind could only focus on the feeling of him and the words mine, mine mine over again. “You can easily acquire more later, though wearing none around me would be preferred,” the dreamlord gritted out, fingers in my hair and clenching my thigh tightly as I moved my hand over him steadily. I smirked, watching his eyes close against my ministrations, thumb rubbing the tip of his erection and sliding the precum there over him, “You going to buy me some with your fake money?” My palm squeezed him and a moan slid from his mouth, raw and wanting. He turned his head and his lips met mine in a frantic rush, tongue warring and fighting for dominance. Impatient, Dream pulled my hand off of him and gripped my thigh, lifting it around his waist and sheathing into me in one fast thrust. There was no foreplay, no slow build. The move was quick and hard, an edge of pain tingeing it at the feeling of him, large and buried to his base suddenly filling me. I was tight around him, each glorious inch filling me completely. The pain faded quickly though it only served to amplify the pleasure, as he pressed me firmly against the wall and fucked me hard. The angle was delectable, hitting the perfect spot inside me every time, and I couldn’t stop the cries that poured from my lips as he pulled out almost fully then rammed back in. I could only hang on. He still wore his coat and shirt, both of us not even fully unclothed, and my nails dug into the fabric. Feeling the friction of his clothes against my sensitive skin heightened the pleasure while my own skirt was pushed up around my waist. He grunted with each desperate thrust, lips against my throat as he bit and sucked and tasted my skin. The brink of my orgasm was coming fast as I drowned in the rapture and ecstasy, body pulsing and clenching around him. He went harder, faster, pouring all his want and possessiveness into me. Each hard thrust branded my skin with the word mine , each kiss claiming, and each mark on my body a sign that I was with the King of Dreams and would be his alone. It should have scared me, having this type of attention from someone like him. It had scared me with lesser men. I had bucked and thrashed against the possessiveness before, had feared it, but with him I drank it down. Because even as he claimed me, he willingly let me claim him as well, offered himself up to me as equals. And so I wrapped my arms tight around him, rode the waves of my orgasm as it crashed into me and ripped his name from my mouth. Stars exploded behind my eyes, nebulas swarming, and I felt like I was floating in a storm I had no control of. He followed soon, giving a final hard thrust before releasing into me with a groan. His lips still lingered on my skin and sweat clung to both of us, the straps of my dress askew and his collar half upturned from my grabbing. We both looked completely and thoroughly fucked and at that thought, I couldn’t help but laugh. The reaction caused my body to clench around him and he grunted into my skin. Dream’s fingers soothed the skin of my thigh before helping me to lower it from his waist, both of us unable to keep from letting out a small groan as the movement shifted our sensitive bodies. It pleased me that I wasn’t the only one with a worn out body. His gaze met mine with a raised brow, skin now a warmer shade and eyes settled. I just grinned at him, wide and unrestrained, tongue between my teeth, “Hi.” With a quirk of his lips light-heartedly and something like affection gentling his face, he replied softly, “Hello.” I gave him a tender kiss, lips dragging against his and savoring their taste, before pulling back, “I guess we can cross off having sex for the first time in the waking world off the list. Along with wall sex. Very efficient work, your highness, good job.” Caught between amusement and confusion, furrowed his brow quizzically, “A list, little dreamer?” Giving a half-hearted shrug, I smiled up at him, “Less a list, more like ideas.” Morpheus’ eyes darkened and I could almost feel him hardening inside me. I knew then that I was doomed. Because there was nothing the Lord of Dreams liked more than a challenge and he was more than willing to make sure we thoroughly explored all those ideas of mine along with a few of his. The evening was spent in my apartment as he claimed me over and over again, worshiping every part of me and leaving no part of me unmarked. And I did the same in turn. I didn’t know what it meant fully as we didn’t discuss feelings or what being with each other meant, but I was okay with what I did know and what I was given. That would be something to think about later.

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