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#the terribly edited joints

acescavern · 8 months

Text

OPERATION RIZZ - NA JAEMIN

Navi - M.list

EDITED NOTE: I just want to thank you all so so much for the love you've shown this fic! to celebrate, check out the early release of End To Start!

Pairing: Na Jaemin x fem!reader (Ft. Yangyang, Haechan, Johnny, Jeno, and mentions of other nct members, nct dream are the friend group, the Jeno and his girlfriend mentioned are the same pairings from Quiet and Game over!)

Genre: Fluff, angst, humor, college au nct,

Synopsis: In an attempt to teach Donghyuck how to get a girlfriend, Jaemin helps him make a list only... that list seems awfully familiar.

wc: 7.8k ( my longest fic yet, I have perished.)

warnings: reference to the sexual activity that happened in Game Over between Jeno and his girlfriend, Mentions of smoking a joint at a frat party but no detailed usage and not by the two mc, Alcohol, Drunk reader, swearing, cringe pick up lines, reader, and Jaemin play the horror game 'the quarry' but no spoilers, timeline jumps a bit but I'm certain it's still understandable, mentions of harsh pranks being pulled by readers previous roommates, hints at previous roommates being bullies to the reader.

A/N: Hi, my lovelies. This fic was a wild ride, I'm telling you. I'm still not satisfied with the header but we move ig. This took me five-ish days I think, mainly cause I left it for at least three of those. I honestly hope you love this as much as I do. If I have missed any warnings please let me know! @sexygrass you asked me to tag you in the finished product! here you are,

Feel free to send me asks to talk about the fic, I love talking about fic characters.

Feedback and reblogs are appreciated!

It was a funny thing to watch Donghyuck fail miserably. It was even funnier to watch the brightly colored cocktail drip from the ends of his hair, soaking into his pristine white t-shirt. To Jaemin, it was the best entertainment in the world to watch his friend flirt terribly. There was a reason Jisung called him bitchless. Not to doom any potential girl Donghyuck could end up with, but the guy was just a walking beacon of cringe pickup lines.

Like tonight. Jaemin had watched from his spot perched on a barstool a few seats away as his friend confidently walked up to the bar. He’d internally winced as Donghyuck had added his own drink to the girl’s tab and he’d tried so hard to still his facial features when the said drink was promptly tipped over his head following the line he gave. “You owe me a drink, I dropped mine when I looked at you.”

It was safe to say that the man crashed, burned, and disintegrated. Jaemin couldn’t hold his laughter for long, barely able to set his drink down on the bar without spilling it before the howls of laughter racked through his body. He felt a hand slap down on his shoulder, the sounds of Yangyang’s own hysterical laughter hitting his ears.

“It’s not funny! Look at my shirt!” Donghyuck growled in annoyance, fingers plucking the wet material away from his skin. “I’m going to clean up...”

The man moved to brush past his two friends, Yangyang stilling his laughter long enough to reach out and grasp his sleeve. “I wouldn’t, Restrooms occupied.” He straightened from his hunched-over position, his voice strained from holding in further laughter. “Think Jeno’s trying to one-up over Jaehyun, dragged his girl in there and locked the door about twenty minutes or so ago.”

“For fuck sake!” He whined, foot kicking at a leg of Jaemin’s bar stool.

Jaemin stood, finally able to keep his laughter at bay. “What did you expect? He literally dragged us here in a fit of jealous rage.” He scoffed light-heartedly, slinging an arm over Donghyuck’s shoulder. “Come on, let’s just go home - Yang, you crashing at Hyuck’s too?” Jaemin craned his neck to catch his fellow 00’ liner’s answer.

Yangyang shrugged in acceptance of the offer, slinging his own arm over Hyuck’s other shoulder.

“So,” Hyuck began, pausing to slurp some of his McDonald’s strawberry milkshake through the disintegrating paper straw. “You’re telling me that my lines don’t work at all?”

Yangyang and Jaemin gave a pointed look to each other, almost as if trying to decide who should be the bearer of bad news. Jaemin gave a slight sigh, his mouth poised ready to talk but his brain still trying to come up with an answer.

“It’s just … You’ve got no rizz” He let the statement hang in the air, chewing into his cheek as Donghyuck blanched at the blunt statement.

“And you have?” He jeered in defense, chuckling in amusement.

“Dude, he’s the rizzler.” Yangyang piped in, the amused grin on his face broadening. “Jaemin’s got effortless rizz and he doesn’t even try.”

Jaemin was startled when his friend threw himself over his lap with a drawn-out dramatic cry. “Then help me!” He pleaded, loosely gripping Jaemin’s collar to shake him.

“Christ! Okay, Okay!” He gave in pretty quickly, shoving Donghyuck off of him with a little effort.

Jaemin shook his head at Hyuck’s antics, Yangyang laughing along with him. No words were spoken for a few moments until the latter made an announcement.

“Let Operation Rizz commence.”

Over the course of the next ten minutes, the two made Donghyuck write down his own step-by-step guide how to get a date.

Jaemin plucked the notepad from his friends' fingers, reading through them with a grimace of distaste.

"Step one is wink?" He read off in disbelief, nearly choking on air when he read step two. "Flirt with her best friend. Are you insane?"

He snatched the pen from Hyuck, ripping the list out of the book and scrunching it Into a ball.”We’ll rewrite it.”

"That's what the Buzzfeed article said to do!" That comment alone earned him a paper ball to the head.

"You need to practice and observe." Yangyang was right, it would be handy to have an actual female to be a 'test subject' as it were.

"But who? The only girls Hyuck know hate him and the only girl I kno–" Jaemin's words stopped dead as he caught onto what his friend was hinting at. "Absolutely not. ____, would never agree to this."

At least Jaemin hoped his roommate would be repulsed enough by the idea to call him crazy and move on.

The thing is, Jaemin had been a little selfish when it came to you. He had very rarely invited you to hang with any of his friends, not that he had to — you were purely roommates who had the same computer science class. That was how you met him. Jaemin had rocked up to class, late and unbothered. It was you who caught onto his small tales of anxiety when he struggled to catch up, wordlessly sliding your notes on the previous few slides onto his desk.

STEP ONE: BEFRIEND

After the lesson had ended and various students began to pile out of the door, you slowly started to pack up your things. A throat being cleared gained your attention, Jaemin looking at you sheepishly, a hand rubbing the back of his neck.

"Thanks for that." A smile of chagrin directed toward you. “I thought I could catch up but Mr. Kim just goes so fast.”

You chuckled, pinching your notes from the table to put them in your bag, zipping it up, and turning toward your classmate. “Next time, don’t be late.” Jaemin was drawn to the way your eyes crinkled at the corners when you granted him a grin. “It’s my turn to be late next class.”

True to your word, at 8:45 am the following Thursday, you snuck into the back of the class. You looked disheveled and half-dead to your fellow classmates. You didn’t want the unwanted attention that was sure to be drawn to you if you scrambled down to a vacant seat at the front, instead, you slipped into the closest empty seat on the back row.

You tried to make as minimal noise as possible when taking your things out of your backpack and you were so preoccupied with the action that you almost jumped when a few sheets of paper were slipped wordlessly onto your desk from the seat next to you.

The two of you fell into an unspoken routine this way. Jaemin would take notes for you to copy if you were late and vice versa, an unspoken rule being you took turns being late. For you, this wasn’t a problem. You were rarely late, something Jaemin noticed when he was hurriedly yanking on his jeans in an attempt to leave on time. He had secretly cursed you at that moment. Jaemin couldn’t be late, it wasn’t his turn and the rule was unspoken.

The next time you were late, you were very late. Jaemin had honestly thought you weren’t coming, his eyeline drifted to the door on multiple occasions. An odd feeling of disappointment settled in his chest. You had become the highlight of his day, Jaemin found himself looking forward to his computer science classes for once.

When you did finally turn up and slip into the seat next to him, he noticed you didn’t even make a move to remove your things from your backpack. You just stared straight ahead, hair drenched from the horrible weather outside and unshed tears pooling at your waterline.

One look at you and Jaemin’s teasing expression faded. He set his pen down, angling his body toward your seat. “Are you okay?” Jaemin almost slapped himself, it was obvious you weren’t.

You raised the damp sleeve of your sweater to wipe at your face, “Sorry I’m late, Jaemin.” Your voice was raw and croaky, he was sure you were going to get sick. “I slept in my car.”

The male blanched, eyebrows shooting to his hairline. Jaemin was sensitive enough to keep his voice low and careful, trying to coax the answers to his many questions from you. “Why, What happened?”

You sniffled quietly, fighting the urge to curl into yourself and hide. “My housemates locked me out again.�� Jaemin’s expression softened, his hand reaching over to tuck your wet hair behind your ear. “Then my car broke down on the way to campus.”

Jaemin had heard about how your housemates were. You’d ranted to him in many lessons about what they were like. The only reason you were all housed together was through the private landlord student accommodation scheme set up for students who didn’t want the dormitory life.

He knew full well that it was a popular-eat-nerd food chain out there and he was grateful his grandma paid his rent for him - Always grandma’s favorite boy. It only took a few more of those incidents for Jaemin to offer his precious games room. He proposed a very convincing argument.

“Look, It’s a steal!” He exclaimed, “No rent and we just split the rest of the utilities and grocery costs, your own room, closer to campus, and me!” Jaemin flashed you his pearly whites at his winning argument.

“I can’t just take up your space like that, Jaemin.” You sighed, as much of an amazing offer it was… You didn’t want it out of pity.

“We’ll probably barely see each other! We can split the chores and work something out.”

It was safe to say you ended up caving into the offer. Any college student would snatch up the deal of accommodation with no rental costs.

Jaemin sat open-mouthed as you bobbed your head in agreement with the idea. “Hm, Yang’s right. I’m the only girl you know that won’t get violent when Hyuck acts like a douche.” You sat back in your chair, swiping Jaemin’s iced coffee from the table and taking a sip through the straw.

“I’m sorry, what?” He spluttered, “Hyuck gets attached, clingy. What if he likes you?” Jaemin’s worries were irrelevant to everyone else but him.

Jaemin didn’t like the idea of Donghyuck catching feelings but he supposed he may be acting on possessive instinct. He shook his head, avoiding the look Yangyang was giving him. It was like the guy was trying to analyze his expressions and read his mind. He felt momentarily exposed.

“Speak of the devil and he shall appear,” You snickered, “Donghyuck, sit.”

Hyuck brushed off his barista apron, shoving his order pad into one of the large pockets in the front as he sat at the vacant chair at the table. You sat up from your slouched position in your chair, sliding Jaemin’s coffee back over to him - the cup being halfway empty by now.

“Show me what you got.” You tapped the table with your hand.

You, Jaemin, and Yangyang watched as Hyuck ran a hand through his hair, his left eye dropping into a wink that could only be described as cringe when he leaned forward toward you. “Are you a transformer?” He paused a moment, long enough to give an over-exaggerated lip bite, his flirty gaze running up and down your torso. “ ‘Cause you’re Optimus fin-” His confidence was harshly broken as you mocked the sound of a loud buzzer.

“Pickup lines don’t work anymore, Dude.” You crossed your arms over your chest. “That was- …. I don’t actually have words for how bad that truly was.” Donghyuck’s face fell.

“Technically, we’re skipping step one because you already kind of know ____. So, step one is ‘befriend’. If she was a stranger you’d have just failed miserably.” Jaemin said to his friend, lifting his coffee to inspect the cup of the missing liquid.

“Alright, What’s step two?” Hyuck shrugged, looking expectantly at his friends.

STEP TWO: GET TO KNOW

Back when you had first moved in with Jaemin, the two of you were more than awkward. It felt odd for each of you to see each other in your most vulnerable states. At home. In class things were different, that was a side of you that prepared to go out and face the day, a social mask slipping in place.

It took just one instance to get over the hurdle of timidness between you both. One Saturday, Jaemin had just gotten back with the groceries, the list crumpled in one of the bags he was hefting. You were leaning against the breakfast bar in the kitchen, a mug of coffee - specifically a Chocolate Mocha from a sachet - cupped in your hands.

Once all of the bags were strewn over the kitchen counter and the floor surrounding the fridge, you set your mug in the sink and began helping.

“Oh, no way!” You gasped, holding up the box of frozen desserts. “Two-ball-screwballs?” Jaemin looked up from shoving frozen food into the freezer drawers, a surprised smile on his face.

“Yeah! My mom used to get them for me every Friday after school.” He shut the drawer he was working on.

“I thought they were discontinued!” You gushed, tearing open the box and removing the cone-shaped cup. “I love these.”

Jaemin’s shoulders perked, his eyes brightening. “You’re kidding! My friends think they’re low tier.” He took the box from you, removing one of the plastic cones for himself and putting the rest into the freezer to save them from melting.

“Low tier? Your friends are low tier.” You scoffed jokingly, peeling off the top.

Jaemin rose to his feet, accepting the teaspoon you offered to him. “I’ll pay you ten to say that to Chenle’s face.” He chuckled, diving his spoon into the red cherry slush.

“What other gems are you hiding?” You questioned, spoon hanging from your mouth as you began to finish off the groceries with your free hand.

“Depends, do you like video games?” Jaemin lifted himself to perch on the breakfast bar.

“I like watching people play them,” You cast a glance back at your roommate. “I don’t have the hand-eye coordination for them.”

Jaemin hummed in thought, his gaze locked onto the dessert in his hand. “If I set up in the living room, do you wanna, maybe, watch me play?” He offered, discreetly peering up at you without lifting his head.

He watched you ponder over the idea a moment before nodding, “Sure.”

That night, you and Jaemin settled onto the couch with the controller firmly in his hand. You stared at the opening game screen ‘The Quarry’ glitching back at you. Jaemin had promised you that this wasn’t so much of a fast-paced game and more of a multiple choice.

“It’s a horror game-” He caught the look of unease on your face. “But it’s not that bad! It’s like a movie but you choose what happens and each option you choose alters the game path. It’s really cool!” The look on his face, as he describes one of his favorite games, will forever be your favorite expression on him.

His eyes light with excitement, and the controller drops to his lap as he uses elaborate hand gestures to explain the concept to you. There’s a feeling deep down that you want him to look like that whilst talking about you. But, that’s stupid, right? You’d only known him a few months at that point.

“Can you turn the subtitles on? I can’t hear a thing without them.” You nudged him with your elbow, prompting Jaemin to stare at you in amusement.

“If I wanted to read a book, I would.” He quipped, still navigating the settings to turn them on for you regardless.

You were only on the first chapter of the game and somehow you’d ended up scrunched up into Jaemin’s side, all awkwardness from before long gone. “No no! Don’t go down there, That’s just stupid!” You shouted, peeking up from his shoulder.

“____,” Jaemin laughed, “We have to, it’s the gameplay. We gotta follow Max into the cellar.” A hand left his controller to pat the top of your head.

You were both late for class the next day.

“Get to know them? How long will this take?” Donghyuck complained, a pout playing at his lips.

He wasn’t a patient man and quite honestly, this was taking longer than he had thought. You cast him a sharp look. “Hyuck, you said you wanted a girlfriend. A lot of work goes into the buildup.”

“Can’t you just date me and then I don’t have to get to know anyone?” He huffed, letting his forehead drop to the table.

His question earned him two abrupt shouts of “No!” Both Yangyang and you exchanged slightly shocked looks at how quickly Jaemin said it along with you.

“Ugh! Fine, so, I get to know them.” Donghyuck lifted his head. “Do I have to ask questions?”

A mumbled ‘He’s hopeless’ under your breath had you receiving two kicks under the table as Jaemin responded to the question. “Yeah, Ask about her hobbies, and family, know the basics, and find a niche to get into deeper conversation.”

“Noted. So, find things in common, then?” Hyuck voiced the question with slight uncertainty.

You grinned, tapping his arm to reward him. “Yeah, exactly!” You studied him a moment, face scrunched in thought. “Say… Hyuck, is there someone in specific you’ve got your eye on?” You questioned.

Hyuck laughed nervously, the three sets of eyes staring at him intently making him slightly nervous. See, Donghyuck always had an obvious tell when he was hiding something. First, eye contact became nonexistent. Then, he would over-blink, his friends joked that he’d take off if he blinked too fast. Lastly, the incoherent defense. Hyuck was doing all of those things.

“Do we need to teach you to lie as well?” Yangyang teased, jabbing his friend in the side.

“Speak for yourself, I don’t lie.” You spoke, pretending to inspect your nails until Jaemin’s snort of laughter cut across the table to you.

“Yeah, right. ____, who ate the last two-ball screwball?” He quipped, an eyebrow raised in challenge at you.

“Uhm, Luna.” It wasn’t Jaemin’s cat.

STEP THREE: GESTURES OF KINDNESS

It was rare for you to go out with your friends. It was rare for you to get drunk, too. You had declined an invitation to the neo-frat party for months, much to the disappointment of your friend. It was after four months of living with Jaemin that you found out he was going, only then did you finally accept the next invitation you received.

You’d spent all afternoon following your friends around the shopping plaza to find the right outfit. Your outfit was at your friends' house, you didn’t see the need to overdress for drinking in a stuffy frat house full of sweaty college kids.

The first glimpse of you Jaemin had caught that day was an hour into the party, the frat house in full swing. He’d been roped in to help set up, his friend Mark being a part of it and Hyuck being heavily involved. Jaemin had been looking for you all night and when he finally caught you, you were talking to Johnny.

Jaemin felt unsettled, though he had no choice who you spoke to. He kept glancing at you, hand gripping the solo cup tighter in his hand the more you laughed at Johnny’s jokes. You’d been drinking, that much was clear. Your cheeks a rosy red and your eyes slightly glazed with intoxication, Jaemin had caught onto how you swayed subtly on the spot, your hand gestures over-exaggerated, and your giggles that seemed to happen at everything Johnny said.

Jaemin’s gaze tore away from you when a hand waved in front of his face, his mind catching up with reality when he saw his best friend. “Jeno, sorry, didn’t hear you.”

Jeno gave his friend a knowing look, shaking his head. “You were staring, if you like her then tell her.” He shrugged, lifting his beer bottle to his lips to take a swig.

Jaemin frowned, his eyeline drawn to you once more as he shook his head. “It’s a bad idea, we live together.” As much as he hated to admit it, Jaemin wondered if inviting you to live with him was a mistake for this reason. “It’d be awkward if it didn’t work out, Jen.”

It’d taken Jaemin only one month of living with you to come to the conclusion that he was slowly becoming head over heels infatuated with you. He wasn’t entirely sure if it was love yet, but Jaemin knew you made him feel things that were an entirely new experience.

“If you’re so headstrong on it, make me a bet.” Jaemin’s attention was stolen away from you once more, his eyebrows scrunched in an expression that told Jeno that he wasn’t really listening at all. “If you end up dating by… let's say, the end of the academic year, then you have to get a tattoo.”

Jaemin gulped slightly, he wasn’t a fan of needles. But he was so sure he would be able to resist you. “Fine, if we don’t, you’ve got to get one. In a place of my choosing.” Jaemin mastered a grin, shaking Jeno’s hand to seal the deal.

When Jaemin turned back around, you or Johnny were nowhere to be seen. His mind’s implication of what it meant had his heart dropping into his stomach. He bitterly shook his head, downing the rest of the ‘special punch’ in his cup.

Jaemin went on with the party, utterly miserable at the thought of you holed up in one of the various upstairs bedrooms with Johnny. Of all people. You had to choose the biggest player out there. It was almost like Jaemin was walking around with his own cloud of self-loathing thundering over his head.

He’d thrown himself onto one of the lawn chairs that surrounded the outdoor pool, running a hand over his face. However, he soon froze when he spotted Johnny. The frat member was with Jaehyun and the frat leader, Taeyong. Jaemin noticed the absence of you immediately and it had him springing up from his seat with a slight stumble. Jaemin wasn’t drunk, he was just bordering the line between tipsy and lightly mellow.

Jaemin tapped urgently on Johnny’s shoulder, the older male turning to him with a doped-up smile. Johnny removed the joint from his mouth, offering it out to Jaemin with a hazed blink. “Where’s ____?” Was his immediate response.

Confusion clouded the elder's face for a moment before he laughed loudly. “Man, she’s wasted!” Jaemin gritted his teeth as a bout of smoke wafted in front of his face.

“Yeah, good to know.” He rushed out in exasperation. “Where?” Johnny’s smile dropped as he shrugged.

“Last I knew, she was asleep on the stairs.” Jaemin didn’t wait for any further explanation, bolting it back inside the house and to the sweeping staircase near the front door.

Sure enough, that’s where he found you. Your lips set into an adorable pout from where your head had hung in your slumber. Jaemin was certain that your neck would hurt in the morning if he didn’t take you home. Though, looking at you… Jaemin couldn’t fight the fond chuckle escaping him.

He knelt down at the bottom step, lifting his hand to gently sweep your hair back. His lips pursed as he took in the state of you, fingers tugging your t-shirt dress down your thighs from where it had risen in an attempt to shield your modesty. He squeezed your knee.

“____,” He called to you gently, a hand on your shoulder to lightly shake you awake. “____, c’mon. I’m taking you home.”

A groan left your closed lips, your body attempting to twist to the side as if you were casually rolling over in the comfort of your bed. Jaemin wouldn’t let you, firmly shaking your shoulder again. He sighed in relief when your eyes finally opened, squinting at the light.

“There she is.” He grinned, both hands moving to your cheeks to steady your lolling head.

Jaemin honestly couldn't help but grin in return for the drunk smile you gave him. It was like you were suddenly sprung with energy. “Jaemin!” You launched forward, both arms wrapping tight around his neck.

His hands had to settle on your back to stop you both from toppling over. Your roommate coaxed you to stand, brushing down the crumbs and dirt from your dress. Jaemin made you lean on the wall as he unzipped his hoodie and tied it around your waist.

“Okay, I need you to hold onto my neck… but not strangle me. You got that, ____?” He spoke slowly as if talking to a child because Jaemin had come to realize that’s exactly how drunk you were.

He left you on the second step, crouching down and patting his shoulder. It was embarrassing how many attempts it took to get you securely on Jaemin’s back but eventually, you succeeded in the climb.

The man carried you all the way across the campus and into the blocks of student housing like this. The whole way you were singing at the top of your lungs, Jaemin even joined in when you started singing Twice’s Fancy. He noted you got quieter at the end of your street and when your light snore hit his ear, he knew the reason why.

There was a struggle for him to unlock the front door with you still on Jaemin’s back. Trying not to let the three cats escape was an even bigger feat that Jaemin managed. He also managed to get you off his back, setting you down on your bed. Your shoelaces were already half undone in a loose tangle, Jaemin not having to work very hard to get your shoes and socks off your feet.

The brown-eyed man looked frantically around your room, spotting the cotton pads and micellar water on your desk. Gentle strokes of the cotton pad across your skin removed the smeared makeup on your face. Jaemin was amazed you didn’t wake up, especially when he got to your eyes.

His fingers lingered on your face, a sad smile gracing his lips. “I wish things were different, ____.” Jaemin shook his head with a sigh, dropping the used cotton pads into your trash can and setting them next to your bed.

With a glass of water and some Advil at your bedside, Jaemin gave into temptation and pressed a light, lingering kiss to the top of your head before tucking you in and parting from your bedroom.

“Acts of kindness?” Donghyuck echoed. “If I help her out at the library, does that count?”

“She works at the library?” Your mouth was covered by Donghyuck's palm.

“Don’t announce it to the whole coffee shop, ____!” He hissed, yanking his hand away and shaking it out when he felt something slimy brush across his palm. “Okay, ew.”

“Hm, that’d work, try something a little more meaningful though, Hyuck” Yangyang suggested as he stood, slinging his backpack over his shoulder. “I gotta go, botany class starts soon.”

The three of you echoed your goodbyes, turning back to the list on the table once your retreating friend was out of sight.

“So, your crush is one of the librarians?” Jaemin questioned, his face shriveling at his next thought. “Do not sit here and tell me that it’s Mrs. Choi...”

“Gross! No, she has warts on warts.” Hyuck shivered at the very thought of it. “She’s our age.”

Donghyuck could practically see the wheels turning in both of your brains as the two of you tried to work it out. He could also guess when yours and Jaemin’s thought waves seemed to of aligned. He found it slightly freaky how you seemed to have a full conversation with just a look.

“Oh, her.” You nodded your head in approval. “Good choice, Hyuck. She’s a friend of mine, really shy.” You hummed.

“You’re not gonna put in a good word for me, even if I ask… are you?” The man’s shoulders deflated as you shook your head.

“Alright then… What’s after the acts of kindness?”

STEP FOUR: COMPLIMENT TASTEFULLY

Jaemin remembers clearly the day he thought his heart jumped out of his throat and threw itself into the lake.

It was one of the rare occasions that he had invited you to hang out where his friends were - He wouldn’t admit but the only reason he did was that Jeno’s girlfriend was begging at his feet not to be the only girl. So, Jaemin invited you.

His eyes widened at the arctic sleeping bag you pulled from the trunk of your car. “Where did you get that?”

You gave a nonchalant shrug, “What do you think I used when I used to sleep in my car? Takeout wrappers?” His mouth snapped shut as you unzipped the door to your one-person tent, flinging the sleeping bag inside to deal with later. It was only when you had zipped your tent back up did you turn to him again. “Thanks for building the tent for me.” You beamed at him, your hand patting his shoulder in thanks.

“Thanks for driving all our stuff down here. I didn’t realize we had so much.” He glanced around at the half-set-up camp circle. “I should go and help Jisung-ie.”

The two of you went around separately, helping the group set things up, and come nightfall, the nine of you were crowded around the campfire. Jaemin wasn’t listening too much, the brunette was too preoccupied with the way your eyes shone in the moonlight and how the flame from the fire gave your skin a breath-taking glow. He nudged your side with his elbow subtly.

Jaemin was going to compliment you, he was going to tell you how beautiful you looked out there with nature but the words died on his tongue when you looked at him with your showstopping smile. All he could do was nudge the bag of marshmallows toward you.

There was a multitude of reasons why Jaemin couldn't tell you and reason number one was sat across from you both, staring at him with a pointed look across the dancing heat of the fire. Lee Jeno. Jaemin’s best friend nodded his head firmly in your direction, rolling his eyes when Jaemin just shook his head and broke eye contact.

The whole of the three days camping, Jaemin hadn’t had a minute alone with you. Not even on the drive back, with the other car full - Chenle had borrowed his mom’s six-seater - that left three people, including yourself, in your car. So, you, Jaemin, Renjun, and the luggage were in your little two-door car.

The both of you were relieved when you finally arrived home. As much as Renjun was the best company for a two-hour drive, all he did was complain about how little Donghyuck and Chenle helped pack away. It was nice to just have silence.

You had time for a shower and a nap and Jaemin had time to go through the plethora of photographs he took on the trip. He hadn’t realized he took so many, mostly of you. Jaemin stopped on one he took of you by the lake. You were posed beautifully, unaware of the camera pointed toward you. Your smile beaming, the way the sun encased you made you look almost ethereal. Your arm was lifted, eyes locked in fascination on a baby blue butterfly that landed on your index finger.

That was Jaemin’s favorite by far. He had no idea how long he had been staring at the image on his camera, nearly jumping out of his skin when your voice sounded close to his ear. You’d leaned over the back of the couch to take a look.

“Oh, I didn’t know you even took that.” You marveled.

“Hm, It’s one of my favorites.” He murmured quietly, glancing up to watch as you climbed over the back of the piece of furniture to sit next to him.

“The sun makes me look so cool!” You leaned further over, looking at the image in more detail.

Jaemin shook his head, handing the camera over to you. “Nah, You always look that pretty.” He’d said the sentence without thinking.

A light blush coated the apples of your cheeks. Jaemin hadn’t complimented you like this before, no matter how many times you’d longed to hear something like this from your roommate. Your heart was doing somersaults in your chest. You wondered for a moment if he meant it but when Jaemin didn’t comment any further on the matter you decided not to ask.

“Oh.” You had no idea what to say in response and Jaemin thought your newfound shyness at his compliment was well worth the slip-up.

From then on, Jaemin made sure to give you subtle compliments every so often. Taking personal satisfaction in the color of your cheeks and the shy smiles that would occur.

“And remember, Hyuck. No pickup lines.” Jaemin spoke slowly, hoping that it would get through his friend's head.

Donghyuck hummed in thought before eventually nodding in defeat. “No pickup lines. Not even one.”

Jaemin looked almost proud, giving his friend a light fist bump. “Go through the steps, I need to know you aren’t going to mess this up.”

Hyuck sighed, lifting the list to read out the steps so far. Both you and Jaemin sitting opposite him in anticipation. “Alright, Step one is befriending.” He thought a moment. “So, like, make a connection so we aren’t strangers?” He trailed off on a question, looking to your faces for confirmation.

If your grins were anything to go by, he was doing fine. “Step two is Get to Know.” He took a sip of his coffee, writing a few notes next to the bullet point. “Like, find out her hobbies, places she likes, TV shows, music, food, and maybe things about her family. That sort of thing.” He sounded confident enough with step two that you or Jaemin didn’t make a single comment.

Donghyuck cleared his throat, pausing on step three. “Gestures of kindness?” His confidence wavered. “Can’t we skip any steps?”

“No, No skipping, You got this, Hyuck. Think about it.” Jaemin was awed at the way you gently encouraged his friend. Jaemin and the rest of his friend group usually took the harsher approach, teasing him to no end.

“Alright,” Donghyuck looked visibly in thought for a moment. “Like offering her a ride home or… or staying behind to help her organize the shelves at the library?”

Jaemin hummed, nodding. “Yeah, if you can work out something more solid that would mean more to her then try that. Otherwise, I think that would work. Or bringing her lunch, If you know what she likes.”

“Got it,” Donghyuck scribbled down more notes. “Step four is Compliment Tastefully.” He looked back and forth between you two. “No pickup lines. But, natural?” He tilted his head at the question.

“Yep, Girls love to hear small compliments. About anything.” You offered, “How we’ve painted our nails? Our hair?” You listed off things for him to jot down on the paper, ending with; “Little and often.”

“Thanks, is that it?” Hyuck glanced down at his notepad again, a frown on his face. “None of this includes actually getting the title of boyfriend.”

“No, there are two more steps. The next thing is..”

STEP FIVE: INVITE OUT ( NOT A DATE )

Jaemin fought tooth and nail for these tickets. He had no idea how much they were going to cost nor how many people were biting to attend the event. He remembers when you scrolled through a TikTok of the exact same event but in Paris, beneath the Eiffel Tower.

The way your face lit up when you shoved the phone in his face, rambling about how cool it was. So, when Jaemin caught wind of there being an outdoor cinema on the hill hosted at your very own University campus over the break, he just had to get you there.

But, how would Jaemin get you there without you thinking that he went through so much trouble just to get you a ticket? He thought of telling you that he found them on the ground but that would be ridiculous. There was no way you’d believe that.

Jaemin thought about it the upcoming week of the event, until the day before. You’d entered the apartment, slamming the door behind you much harsher than Jaemin was used to. His head peeked up from over the back of the couch.

“____?” He was met with angry grumbling, and the thudding of your shoes being dropped onto the floor after taking them off. “You okay?”

“Why do people have to be the way that they are?” Your sudden question stunned him for a moment, Jaemin meekly shrugged.

“Good afternoon to you, as well.” He chuckled softly, rising from the couch and rounding the half wall to the kitchen. Already on autopilot to make you a drink.

“I tried to get tickets for Grease In The Park.” Jaemin froze with his hand mid-way in grabbing a glass from the shelf.

“Oh? Really? How did that go?” He cleared his throat to try and curb the nervous waver in his voice.

He glanced over into the living room, seeing you throw yourself onto the couch with a defeated frown on your face. “Someone said they were selling theirs, so I paid way more than I should have for them and they were fake!” You had every right to be pissed, you wasted money that you could be using for gas and next month's car insurance.

Jaemin visibly relaxed out of your eyeline, filling the glass with soda and walking back to set it on the coffee table in front of you. You peered up at his bright, toothy smile, your frown deepening when he laughed softly.

“I don’t see how this is funny, Jaemin.” You grumbled, your foot jutting out to hit the back of his knee. Jaemin only nudged your legs back to perch on the edge of the couch, fingers tugging open one of the drawers in the wooden coffee table.

He produced to you an envelope, raising an eyebrow as he waved it in front of you. “Just go with me.” He stated simply, “Jeno’s now going with his girlfriend. I got a spare ticket.”

He’d never seen you move so fast, snatching the envelope from his hands to peer inside. “Holy shit! You’re not joking? These are real?” You gasped, catching the holographic authenticity sticker on the tickets. “Jaemin, Oh my god!”

Jaemin let out a grunt as he was tackled by you, his back bracing his fall against the cushions. Jaemin stilled for only a moment until he relaxed, his arms winding around your back to gently pat along your spine. “Is that a yes?”

It was and the very next day you were flattening out a picnic blanket under a blossom tree on the hill. The perfect spot to get the best view. If anybody stood up, it wouldn't obstruct your view and it was perfect. You’d insisted that you and Jaemin pack a cooler of snacks and some sandwiches, and much to his surprise you’d packed a Two-ball Screwball each.

Jaemin honestly couldn’t recall the plot of the movie, you were amazed he had never seen Grease before. Even after watching it underneath the blossom tree in the greenery behind the University's main building, Jaemin couldn’t recite the storyline. All Jaemin could remember was watching you with stars in your eyes as you belted out the lyrics to nearly every song.

As the fading notes to You’re The One That I Want got quieter, you turned to him. Jaemin loved you like this, unapologetically you. Cheeks red from the excitement and singing, eyes wide and wondrous in the nature's air. And then you floored him, leaning over to press a meaningful kiss to his cheek.

His lips parted in surprise, his own giddy smile widening as you pulled back an inch to look at him. “Thanks, Jaemin.” You whispered between you. “This has been the best movie theatre experience ever.” and with that, you tugged the spare blanket around the both of you, naturally hugging into Jaemin’s side.

Jaemin complained before about the effort to get the tickets but in that moment he vowed that he would do it again ten times over just to relive this moment.

“You’ve got to make it sentimental. Somewhere she’s always wanted to go but don’t overdo it.” Jaemin pointed at Hyuck in a warning.

“Don’t overdo it? How much do you think this place pays me?” He snorted, gesturing to the coffee shop the three of them had been sitting in since Hyuck’s shift ended two hours ago.

“They’d probably pay you more if you did your job and stopped giving us free coffee.” You shrugged, poking at Donghyuck’s shoulder.

“I’m not even on shift right now!” Donghyuck protested, slapping his hand down on the table. “Do you really want me to start charging you for coffee?”

Jaemin’s lips tugged into a fond smile, letting his friends argue as he slid the paper and pen back toward himself to write the final two steps. He stared at it for a few moments, glancing up at you only once before nodding his head and flipping the paper face down.

Your playful stint with Donghyuck ended as Jaemin stood from his seat, slinging his backpack over his shoulder. “I’ve written the last two steps down.” He began, avoiding your eyes. “I got class in fifteen.”

Jaemin swiftly left you both sitting there, Hyuck already scrolling on his phone when you nudged him. “Aren’t you going to look at step six and seven?” You nudged the paper toward him.

“Eh, read ‘em to me.” Donghyuck shrugged, glancing up at you from his game.

You rolled your eyes, reaching over for the paper. You flipped it over, skimming over the last two steps. Your heart stilled, your body seizing in shock as your brain caught up.

“Oh my god, I’m an idiot.” You whispered, Donghyuck finally glancing over to you.

“I could have told you that, but why?” His head shoved into your eyeline to look at the paper.

‘STEP SIX: WAIT FOR HER TO NOTICE’

“So? Why are you an idiot?” He looked puzzled, eyeing your frozen form carefully.

“Look at this list,” You wave it almost frantically. “Jaemin has done every single one of these things for me.”

“Oh, Yeah. That’s cause he’s in love with you.” Your friend said casually, your head snapping in his direction.

“What?” You choked in disbelief, dropping the list to the table once more.

“I’m surprised you haven’t caught on yet,” Hyuck laughed, “Kinda tragic if you ask me, unrequited love and all.” He yelped when he received a smack to the forearm.

“It’s not unrequited!” It was almost comical how his eyes widened at your exclamation.

“Then go and find him, look at step seven.”

STEP SEVEN: CONFESS

You left the coffee shop in a clumsy mess, nearly headbutting the door on your way out. Honestly, you were beating yourself up over this. Just how long had you been tiptoeing around each other like this? How long had Jaemin been waiting for you to notice?

Of course, there were some intrusive thoughts shoved into the chaos of your mind. Like; What if you were overlooking this? What if Hyuck was lying? What if Jaemin had gotten bored of waiting for you and moved on already?

You skidded to a stop at your front door, suddenly remembering he wasn’t home. Jaemin was in class for at least two hours and you’d just run all the way back to the apartment to confess to him. However, with one whiff of your body, whilst taking your shoes off, you were glad he wasn’t home yet. It allowed you to shower, do your hair, and spritz some of your favorite perfume over yourself.

When Jaemin arrived home, he found you pacing the length of the living room. He wondered if you’d wear the carpet out at this rate. “Did Hyuck understand the last two points okay?” The question hung in the air as he straightened from removing his shoes.

Jaemin knew that this was make or break. You either caught on to his subliminal message or it went right over your head and he would have to revoke the entire list. Though, the look you gave him at that moment said you understood very well.

“How long?” Your voice was a mere whisper, fingers tangling amongst themselves as your feet came to a stop at the end of the couch.

Silence. Jaemin said nothing, his backpack falling from his shoulder to make a dull sound on the carpet. He rubbed the back of his neck nervously, Jaemin was having trouble reading your expression. He wasn’t sure if the tears that were overspilling your eyes were a good thing or not. His teeth bit into his cheek.

“Jaemin, how long?” You moved in closer, your voice was desperate.

“A… a while.” He mumbled. “Too long,” He shook his head, suddenly finding the stain on the carpet much more interesting than the tears that spelled the pain on your face.

You sniffled, closing the gap between you to gently cup his cheeks with your palms and lift his gaze back onto yours. Jaemin caved, leaning into your loving touch with eyes fluttering closed. Warm hands cupped over your own.

“Please,” You’d never heard such vulnerability in Jaemin’s voice. “Let me down gently, ____.”

Jaemin’s eyes opened slowly, already feeling the numbness of rejection seep into his bones. But, you just shook your head with a watery smile. It made him hurt more, his first thought wondering if you were intentionally going to make him suffer for this.

“Oh, Jaem, I don’t plan to let you down at all.” Your whispered words were like a wash of color in skies of grey.

Jaemin’s breath of relief relaxed his shoulders and he wasted no time in connecting your lips. His kiss was gentle, surprisingly so for how long he had been waiting for you. Your lips were soft and he could taste the remanence of the drink you’d had earlier. Your lips slotted over Jaemin’s like they were made to be there, like a missing puzzle piece. It felt right.

It was you who pulled away first, slowly opening your eyes to smile shyly at him. “I love you, Jaemin.”

“I love you, ____”

©acescavern, Please do not copy, repost, or translate my works. Reblogging is allowed.

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mockerycrow · 1 year

Note

Hihi, okay, I have a request!

Can I request how 141(mostly ghost & price but whoever you want) + König would react if their s/o has scoliosis? But it's a really, really bad day, and every subtle movement is nothing but pain? And could you possibly add their back seizes so bad they can't breath or move for like a few minutes? That happened to me earlier in a pizza joint 😣

I've cried so many times today from pain, and I can't stand up straight, and I'm leaning sideways leaning tower of fxckery over here

Please and thank you!

Ghost + Price Comfort GN!Reader With Scoliosis

cod masterlist

A/N: I only did these two, i hope that’s ok! also, warning—i do not have scoliosis, so i did some quick research for this. please let me know if it’s inaccurate and i will immediately edit this <3 i’m also sorry youre in so much pain!!! “birdie” is not a callsign, just a nickname to switch it up!

[WARNINGS: physical pain, military inaccuracies, hurt/comfort.]

-> John Price

Price is aware that you have scoliosis and he knows that it can be quite painful, but he hasn’t gotten the chance to witness how truly painful it could be for you. He’s seen you wince and sit down in unconventional locations in an attempt to alleviate the pain radiating in your back, your braces, everything.

Today is a day where he hasn’t seen you all day, besides in the morning to collect the paperwork that you needed to do by the end of the week. He found it odd when you collected it all at once as you usually space it out between days, but he didn’t stop to think about it.

He hasn’t even seen you leave to get anything to eat or drink and it’s 1100, and you got up at 0600. That’s when John decides to grab you a cup of your favorite drink from the common kitchen area and head to your office, as well as a cup of tea for himself.

John manages to get the door open with both hands full—somehow—and that’s when he finds you hunched over your paperwork, your thumbs digging into the inner corners of your eyelids, pressing until those large block splotches appear behind them. He pauses for a moment, noticing the way you didn’t even perk up at the door opening.

“Y’alright?” He asks in a slow tone, watching the way you jolt from your position. Your eyes open and they land on John and you look miserable, cold sweat dripping down your temple from pain. “Mhm, just.. a flare-up.” You wave your hand in air as if to dismiss your pain, causing him to walk over to your desk.

John places your cup down—thankfully in a blank spot that isn’t covered by paperwork—and he stares at you for a moment with a non-believing look. “Is there anything I can d-“ He’s cut off by a low, pained whimper from you; you shove your face into your hands, as if to hide from him.

Your breath hitches, like you can’t breathe, and John begins to panic. He puts his cup of tea down somewhere on the desk and puts a hand on your back, speaking lowly and gently. “Darling, I need you to talk to me before I drag you to medical..”

You take a deep breath, sending sharp pains shooting through your body. You manage to push out “muscle relaxers” and “NSAID”. John processes your words and his shifted to something serious, like he was on an actual mission. He goes around to behind the desk and finds the bottles in the upper right-hand side drawer.

John opens both bottles and grabs the correct amount of medicine, and he grabs your cup. “Open,” he murmurs, planning on feeding you the medicine. You take a quick breath and open your mouth and John swiftly feeds you some of your drink, pops the pills in your mouth, allows you to swallow and lets you drink some more.

“Good.” His voice is low and comforting, and he presses a kiss against your tear stained cheek, his thumb coming up to wipe your tears away. “When you’re ready, lovie, let’s move you to your couch. Heard hold and cold things may help, too.” He feels terrible as he watches you struggle to breathe, your muscles spasming terribly, sending excruciating pain through your muscles. John wishes he could take this pain from you.

-> Ghost

You’re moving supplies for the base, big crates full of food, MRE’s, medical supplies and more when you feel the familiar pain begin your back and radiating down your leg. You wince from a spark of pain settling into your joints of your leg. You, being stubborn, refuse to sit down at first; “work through the pain” is your motto most of the time.

And most of the time, that does not work at all. Johnny, who is unloading the crates with you along with two recruits, notices your pace slowing and you only slow when something is up. He watches you closely for a moment before he speaks up, walking next to you as you carry a crate to the loading area. “Y’know, bonnie, ya can take a break? We’ve got it.” He insists, watching the way you bend down slower than earlier to place the crate down.

“I’m fine.” You respond—if you don’t think about it, it’ll go away.. right? That was your second mistake, the first being offering to help when your back was already aching a bit earlier. Johnny sighs and grabs the next crate you pick up from you, causing your eyebrows to furrow. “Go rest, you need it.” Johnny says, pausing for a moment with a smirk. “Don’t make me get the L.T.”

You mimic his voice childishly “dOn’T mAkE mE gEt ThE L.T.” before picking up another crate, securing your fate. Johnny texts Ghost and within a few minutes, he walks into the loading area and you make eye contact, groaning half with annoyance, half from pain. “I’m fine.” You try to insist, but your tone is a bit weak, and you wince from the pain—a nerve in your spine is probably being pinched by this point.

You lift a crate and Ghost swiftly snatches it from your hands, and your jaw drops and you look up at him to argue, but his gaze is intense, silently telling you to listen. He protrudes authority with just his presence, much like his captain. Ghost has seen you have scoliosis related problems before, so he places the crate down on the ground and he grabs your hand. He doesn’t yank you along in fear of hurting you further, but he does guide you to your office.

“You need to start taking better care of yourself, birdie.” He eyes you as he has you sit down on the couch, walking over to your desk and opening the drawer he has memories your medications stay on. You grumble and attempt to adjust your position to feel more comfortable. “I do take good care of myself.”

“I said better, yeah?” Ghost pours the medications into has hand and walks over to you, dropping the medicine in your out-stretched palm. You want to be stubborn and snap back at him, but at that very moment, a sharp pain shoots through you and your muscles begin to spasm. You whimper and you blink, within a second, Ghost is sitting next to you, pulling you against him. “Shh, let it pass..” He mutters, his voice unnaturally soft, but still rough around the edges. “I’ll grab you some water soon, birdie. I’ll stay here as long as you need.”

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lovelykhaleesiii · 6 months

Note

Hi! i remember asking on your other account about chubby!titus and him kidnapping his favourite barista.

Perhaps you could write something about chubby!titus having a bad day and him coming home and getting spoilt by his barista.

(i’m sorry if this is bad writing, i really suck at explaining things)

Dog Days

PAIRING: Chubby!Titus x fem!Barista!Reader

WORDS: 2,476.

WARNINGS: mentions of kidnapping/hostage, reference to Stockholm syndrome, swearing, thigh riding, female receiving (fingering), oral male receiving (cock sucking), soft feedism, praise kink, some teasing.

A/N - thank you for sending this request in, love the idea and not at all bad writing! poor bby deserves the world. hope you enjoy this xx

credit for the amazing edit of Titus just as a slightly bigger boy - @bnb-atnite 🤍

It was never a struggle to know when Titus was in a “mood.” His entire attitude that would normally be affectionate and happy, would turn silent and distant, fury seething beneath the surface. Occasionally, his quick temper would make an appearance with a quick snap or slamming of his hands against a wooden surface, although never towards you.

He would rather hurt himself, than to ever lay a single finger on you.

How you met Titus, was one story… Almost a fairytale-esque scenario. Although, how Titus secured you in his life was a plot out of a nightmare. It had been 1 solid year now, or so you roughly estimated, since Titus had lured and kidnapped you. The first few months had been excruciating: the separation and absence from your family, friends and life, you had only heard of such terrible stories from news outlets, never for a single moment did you fathom it would happen to you. As the long, desolate days ached by, you had grown exhaustedly worrisome, succumbing to the icy truth that you would never be found, or that if there ever was a search, it had ultimately come to a shattering end. You were fearful of Titus, of what he could've been capable of, the haunting things that scorched your mind, dreadful scenarios of all the things he wanted to do to you... You were imprisoned to these dark thoughts every hour of the day, confined in a small corner, shackles tied firmly around each ankle and hand, its grip bruising your fragile joints, in some dingy, cold basement.

As the months dulled on, time became a blur. And yet, Titus remained prudent, showing no ounce of threat [besides the many, failed attempts of escaping on your behalf, did he accidentally knock you out once or twice]. He would however, show immediate remorse, promptly and gently tending to your wounds, profusely apologising beneath his timid breath: never touching nor forcing himself on you, unless he asked first.

He was different... Not at all like the monsters in those nightmarish stories.

If you were being brutally honest, he treated you with a kindness no man had ever shown to you: he was willing in his actions, nurturing you, feeding you, bathing you, comforting you. He wanted to help you, make you feel better, make you feel at home…

And so he did.

Eventually, you began to trust Titus. Your days felt vastly better knowing his sole presence was around: when you could vividly hear his heavy footsteps above the wooden floorboards first thing in the morning. The sight of him bursting down stairs with a tray full of breakfast goodness, and that sweet, sweet smile across his handsome face. He always made himself look presentable, the way he combed his luscious locks, clean shave although he kept a neat, subtle stubble, clean clothes.

As you began to open your odds up to him, he saw the difference in you, and reciprocated. And before you knew it, normalcy had found you once again.

“Baby what’s wrong? Why the glum face, baby boy?” You tenderly insisted, as you wiped clean the icing off your finger against your kitchen apron.

“W-Well I was craving those cinnamon donuts from the cafe, only to find out that they stopped making it s-since you left. A-And some girl by t-the counter touched my hand and gave me this smile. B-But I don’t want her, I only love you. A-And some jerk cut me off on the r-road, called me a fat prick and other things, just speeding off... I could’ve been in a serious accident. I just— Today is not my day.”

Slowly, as his mouth fell silent, Titus found himself waddling to the living room, as he defeatedly sat himself down on the couch, turning the television on. Following his heavy footsteps, you find him sullen, as he rubs his forehead, combing his fingers through his hair as though to soothe a throbbing headache.

“Now-Now, my love—” You calmly utter, as you closely seat yourself beside him: his growing figure evident of your now reciprocated affections. You had come to realise food was a way to Titus’ heart, he deeply relished in how you would cook for him, hand feeding him yourself. The domesticity was a cosy, reassuring feeling for him. With that, his handsome face remained handsome, though features had slightly expanded with the evident chub and softness, plump cheeks and blurred jawline. His tits had doubled in size, larger than yours, he loved how sensitive they felt against your touch and how his shirts now accentuated his perky chest. His portly, round gut hung greatly over his waistline: rolls of flesh and adipose swallowing his figure, his hips now widened and love handles tempting. Not to mention his ass had grown in mass, elevating him whenever he sat, and his thighs stocky and sturdy, now ever so comfortable to seat yourself upon. Your hand instinctively fell atop of his bloated gut, gently rubbing circles, feeling how plush and how empty it felt beneath your touch.

“—You know I was actually the one making those doughnuts… If you told me so that you reminisced them, I would’ve made them for you already! And I know you love me, silly! Look at everything you’ve given me, all that you do for me… And I’m glad you came back in one piece. I want you to be as careful as you can, okay?”

“B-But have I really become fat? Perhaps the reality is I am no longer decent enough for you, Y/N… I never was, even so that I had to snatch you up all to myself. Maybe I am greedy… As greedy as the hog that I have become.”

You were taken aback by a magnitude from Titus' harsh words. The reality is, who knows what would have happened if he had approached you like any normal person would, if he had rather asked you out on a date, and had taken the time to know each other on a rather mundane and more acceptable level. Regardless, you were here now, this was your reality.

"Titus-Baby, please don't ever think that. You know how much I have grown to love you, to cherish you. Do you still not trust me enough? That this is all some kind of rouse? Yes, perhaps that is it-" You softly chuckle, mildly poking at his belly as you tease your lover.

"You've outed me. My plan all along was to fatten you up, so that I may buy myself some time to escape. I mean how can you chase me with this big, ole belly in the way, hmm?

"Y/N-"

"I'm kidding, my love. As harsh as it was the first few months, I am okay now. I know I will be with you by my side. And besides, I rather do adore all of this-" Your hands firmly grip and tug at his fleshy rolls, squeezing the tub beneath your fingers, causing him to chuckle naturally.

"More of you for me to hold, to touch, to love... To fuck."

Without even so much as an exchange of words, only a fleeting second of a gaze of approval, did Titus pull you in, lifting you without so much as a strain on his face, as you comfortably straddle his wide, sprawled lap.

"Got your attention now, huh, big boy? Gotten so big for me, this is all my undoing isn't it? Are you not proud of my work?" You whisper ever so closely into his attentive ear, hastily pulling up your dress [that Titus himself, carefully selected for you].

"Of-Of course I am-" It made your heart all cosily fuzzy when he stuttered during the intimate moments: you noticed, especially in the early days how often he would struggle to even so much as peck you on the cheek.

"These tits, my goodness, have grown so tremendously for me, this stomach getting bigger by the day-" You utter in between breaths, as you leave a wet beeline of kisses against his thick skin down his neckline to his soft jaw. Having pulled up his white shirt, his clothes only fit just enough but ever so tightly against his massive frame. Kneading at his tits, feeling how plush, how much of a handful they have become, strewed across with raw, red stretch-marks, your thumb teasingly flicking at his sensitive nipples.

"A-All for you, angel... A-Anything for you. I-I can grow even more."

The friction between your inner thighs feels coarse and rough against his black trousers: rutting your eager, throbbing cunt against his lower mass, you hazily glimpse at the stain beneath of your ooze beginning to drizzle through from excitement.

"That's right, handsome. Gonna make you my teddy bear, Titus. Gonna be the perfect, little housewife for you, baby... Isn't that what you've wanted from the start?"

As you finish your remarks, you find your lips crashing against his own, catching his breath in a passionate, longing kiss before breaking free for him to speak. Left to stutter incoherently, as he aimlessly catches his breath, you sense his cock beneath poking against the restrictive fabric, aching to spring into action.

"F-Fuck! Y-Yes, baby. Make you my p-pretty wife, th-that's all I saw th-the first time. Th-The first time I s-saw you. Just kn-knew I had to m-make you all m-mine."

Your hands found their way making a mess across his body, one gripping at his thick, broad shoulder, nails clawing against his adipose, fair skin, leaving vibrant, scarlet marks. The other found its way in his locks, the once neatly combed hair now tugged and pulled at, unkempt and a mess.

His lips found their way to your exposed cleavage, the dress accentuating your breasts as they peaked through... Seemingly, Titus had an excellent taste in your style.

"Big boy wants something it seems... Want to suck on something? Always need to keep that mouth full, huh, handsome?" You breathlessly moan, as your hand that clawed at his shoulder and back, released, leaving him to sigh, as you carefully unlace the front, pulling out your breast, as your other hand guides Titus' hungry mouth to latch on.

"Ahh- Such a good, good boy. My baby deserves it all. Look at how well he cares for me-ahh- provides for me. I-I must be the luckiest of them all."

He was indeed ravenous for you, it seemed. With the rate of his vigorous suckling, you were certain milk would seep through your tit any time soon. His large, pudgy hands that had remained rested: one your backside, firmly planted on your cheek, and the other steadily supporting your back, shoving your feeble body closer against his, pressing you deeper into his stocky mass. As the one that remained supporting your jerking frame, the other snaked its way beneath your evening dress, and soon, in between your grinding motions, you felt his thick digits grazing at your wet folds, before two plunged themselves in, pumping in and out with such speed and ferocity. HIs motions sent a surge of electricity throughout your vessels, as you suddenly burst into a fit of cries and pleas for him. Such raw, sensual sounds and curses from your mouth, made him growl like some wild beast in heat.

"M-My Titus is a-always so h-hungry. D-Do I not feed you enough, big boy? L-Look at you so eager for me?"

Although, with no warning, the hand that remained gripping at his short, blonde strands, guided him further, pulling his head back, as he hesitantly let go, pulling at your nipple momentarily. The abruptness of your actions, halting him, granted you a fair, few seconds to compose.

"My turn-"

With a swift motion, you crept down off his lap, kneeling before him between this trunk-like, as your fingers fiddle with his zipper: he knew precisely what you were lurking for.

As his eager cock sprung forward, slowly engulfed by his surrounding pouch of fat, its size no longer looked as menacing. Although, its girth remained astounding. Your tongue began to tease, lapping at the reddened, oozing tip, before swallowing more and more of him. Soon the entirety, or more so, as much as your mouth could take of his length, filled your capacity, your head began to bob subtly, picking up gradual pace, as Titus' head fell back against the couch. With a struggle, his hands found their way atop your head, his thick digits entwining against your mottled hair, as he gently attempted to plunge your head deeper between his thighs.

"Th-That's it, angel-M-My perfect girl. Kn-Knows how to make me feel s-so good."

You could feel the length of his pulsating cock inside your warm mouth, his hot, fresh seed spilling as it filled your piece. From time to time you would thickly swallow, trying to maintain rhythm and breaths simultaneously.

"S-See? That pretty m-mouth of yours, w-was made j-just for me. A-All fucking mine."

"Sweetheart! The doughnuts are ready, but let them cool for a little while, okay?" You sternly declare, as you rest the hot, baked goodies atop the stove: the fresh, strong scent and smoke filling your nose.

"They look just as incredible as they did in the cafe, baby. Thank you for this."

You pull out the wooden seat, politely gesturing to Titus to take his seat, as you readied his plate and beverage. The feeble chair creaked against his heavy mass, admiring how his bigger frame now engulfed the delicate looking seat, unable to see the back of the wooden frame beyond him.

"Looks like we might need to invest in some new furniture, big boy. Any day now, that chair won't be able to hold you, baby. Maybe I should take a break from the treats, huh?"

"NO! I-I will go out tomorrow, sweetheart, I-I promise- Y-You know I love your cooking. I've loved it since the day I met you, it seems."

"And my coffee? Have I lost my touch?"

As you cautiously rest the hot mug of coffee beside his full plate of cinnamon doughnuts, his familiar grip pulls you from the wrist, guiding you to take a seat on his lap.

"Absolutely not. I rather think your touch has become even more incredible. Because now you see, you're doing it all for me, and only me."

You helplessly beam at Titus, the grandest smile against your face, as you cup his plump cheek, lightly stroking his stubble. Planting a soft peck against his forehead, before resting your own against it, you inhale his musky cologne, how reassuring the familiar scent has become, almost intoxicating.

"Only for you, Titus. I couldn't nor would I see my life in any other way, than how it is now. You were right from the beginning... I was made just for you."

TGC-verse Taglist - @chompchompluke @melinskis @connorsui

credit for divider - @/firefly-graphics

#Titus #tom glynn carney #TGC #regulars #Titus imagines #Titus imagine #Titus fanfic #Titus fanfiction

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wardenparker · 10 months

Text

The Viper's Bride - ch 10

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! 18+ Word Count: 11.7k 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* Fluff and intimacy, blink and you'll miss it pregnancy kink, vaginal sex, unprotected sex, bath sex. Brief mentions of physical pain and past abuse (parent to child and spousal). More secret keeping. Summary: An unexpected development could change everything - but will it be as good a change for everyone as it is for some? Notes: Tumblr is rejecting any effort I try to put into editing my taglist for this story, guys. I'm really really sorry. If you want to be put on the master tag list please send me an ask or a DM and let me know, as that does not seem to be experiencing problems at the moment.

Ch 1 ~ Ch 2 ~ Ch 3 ~ Ch 4 ~ Ch 5 ~ Ch 6 ~ Ch 7 ~ Ch 8 ~ Ch 9

In the days that follow, routine develops. Walks with Margaery become frequent interludes, there is more chance to spend time with Ellaria or with Raeden, and suppers in your quarters are occasions for the four of you to bask in each other’s attention. A week of pleasant days goes by without incident, all except for the gnawing feeling in your chest that never seems to dissipate.

Despite the joint coupling that happened a week ago, there has not been a repeat. The days have turned longer with meetings and whispered conversations in darkened hallways of the wretched keep. Oberyn has kept you and Ellaria apprised of what is being said, Raeden already knowing, but he will be glad to leave King’s Landing behind when this is over.

There has not been another night with Raeden, despite many pleasant evenings in his arms after supper while the four of you have talked. Each night he and Ellaria have retreated to the second bedchamber and left you and Oberyn to your conception efforts with little or no fuss at all. It seems strange, considering how hard you fought to be able to keep Raeden at your side – but you remind yourself that it does not mean he loves you any less. Or that you love him any differently, either.

Oberyn pours another cup of wine and sighs. “I am ready to be rid of this city.” He tells you as he looks out the window at the city below, watching people and animals scurry about their evening. “Will you miss it?”

“I cannot think so.” The gardens are beautiful and the library welcoming, but apparently both are more stunning in Dorne. “If nothing else, it makes the people I care about unhappy, and my mother is still here.” You shrug at him half-heartedly. “That alone is enough to make me long to be anywhere else.”

“Has she said something to you?” Oberyn turns and gives you a sharp look, instantly ready to cut her with his tongue if she had. You have opened up more to him over the past week and the woman should have been barren rather than a mother.

“She found me this morning in the library,” you admit, not liking the look of concern on his face all at once. “And…asked me to have dinner with her and my father tomorrow.”

“Just you?” He asks, raising a brow and wondering what her play is. She might be trying to curry favor. That would be very plausible considering she would have someone close to the small council, but he knows you are far too smart to fall for her shit.

“I did not want to commit you to an entire meal of her insults,” you admit with a small grimace. “So I said you were otherwise occupied on small council business.”

“So I can interrupt if need be and rescue you.” Oberyn smirks before he shakes his head. “You do not have to go. Make your excuses or just do not show if you wish to not go.”

“I thought you might say that.” He has developed a habit of playing with the hair along your neck when you sit together and it soothes you measurably, making you nearly sigh as you sit together. “But I do not want the last meal I share with my parents to be that disastrous breakfast the morning we were introduced.”

“I thought that meal was quite amusing.” Oberyn hums, remembering his own part with satisfaction, though he frowns when he realizes that it has been days since he was close to his lover.

“Yet remembering it makes you upset?” A fact which, when you point it out, makes you frown in turn.

“Simply your fear that followed.” He assures you. “Hopefully now put well to rest.” He leans in and kisses your chin to dispel the frown and replace it with a smirk.

“There will always be some looming fear in a life frought with responsibility and power.” But you turn into him, seeking a kiss from his lips to yours, and smile softly. “What I am assured of is the support of my husband. And for that I am grateful.”

“There is nothing much more powerful than a prince.” He reminds you. “Unless those rumors of dragons are true.”

“I value your support much more than your power.” It would not be true of every woman he could have married, but it is certainly true if you. And you hope – however quietly – that the fact of it means something to him.

“You have both, Princess.” He softens, his fingers caressing your skin and he’s aware that he is lucky in the choice of bride made for him. It might not have been intended, at least for your sweetness, but he is drawn as a bee is to honey.

“Then I am very lucky.” Returning his gentle gesture, your fingers caress the sharp line of his beard and make your smile grow a little wider.

“I have to shave tonight.” He grunts, watching you carefully. “Another bath.” He doesn’t care for the baths in the Keep. “I have already told Cal, do you wish to join me?”

“Leyth will be grateful,” you muse, glad to accept the invitation. The small and large moments of intimacy you get with him are always worthwhile. “It will save her having to draw one for me tomorrow.”

Oberyn had not been with either servant since coming to the keep, in fact, he had been inside no one but you. “Princess.” He tilts his head and draws a circle on your arm.

“My lord?” Though he has yet to demand your fealty, he is that. Your husband. Your prince. Your lord.

His lips twitch slightly and he lifts a brow, approving of your demeanor. “Have you touched your lover since that time we were all together?” He asks it softly, no accusing, just wondering if you had managed to spend time with him when Oberyn is occupied.

“Not beyond a kiss.” There had not been time for it during the daylight hours and you have spent every night since the consummation of your marriage with your husband. “He has been considerate of our efforts to ensure your heir.”

“Very considerate.” Oberyn hums and adds it to the tally that he is forming in his head. “Do you wish to go to him? Seek other pleasures with him?”

The offer, even though there is no malice in his voice, makes you shrink back a little. “Do you wish for me to leave you after we bathe?”

“Not at all.” He shakes his head, making an effort to not frown. Reminding himself that you are still innocent in the ways of multiple partners. “I just realized that I have been greedy with your nights.”

“I enjoy our nights.” Perhaps too much, you have thoughts more and more frequently — especially when laying in his arms at night.

“I have enjoyed our nights as well.” He chuckles and brushes his nose along your neck. “Are you wishing for anything? Something I can give you?”

“How could I possibly wish for anything beyond what I already have?” Your soulmate, a doting husband, and a divinely lovely friend in his own soulmate. A growing friendship with the widowed queen. What better companions could you ask for?

“Lovers.” He hums. “Whichever you want. A pretty cunt to eat or a cock to suck.” He chuckles quietly. “I am merely asking if you have grown more curious. Though you drain me dry every night when you ride my cock, perhaps you have secretly wished for more.”

“It would not give me the same satisfaction, I think.” The idea of sharing your bed with a stranger simply to take pleasure in them actually appeals to you very little, you have found. It is the closeness – the intimacy – of the act that you crave. Even the most intensely physical fucking you have ever shared with Oberyn has been fraught with feeling. “I think that…it is important for me that I care for my lovers.”

“Interesting.” He’s not of the same mind frame but he respects that. His own feelings for you are complicated and burgeoning as he spends more time in your presence.

“It may seem a bit unconventional to you.” Which is in no way a thing to regret or censure. It is simply a fact. “But I think so far it has made me happy.”

“Just because it is something I am not used to does not mean it is wrong.” He reaches out and caresses your neck gently to reassure you. “I just wish to make sure you are happy with this arrangement as it is.”

“I am.” Much to your surprise, in fact, and you nuzzle against his hand. “I am happier than I ever thought possible. But if you wish to have others in your bed, you only need to say so.”

“I will hurt you.” It’s a simple statement, but one that holds a heavy weight.

The light in your eyes dims and you glance away, suddenly focused on your fingernails far more than his face. “I do not like how you seem so sure of that.”

Oberyn tuts and reaches for your chin. “I do not want to hurt you, Star.” He rephrases softly. “So I need to know if it will hurt to find me with other lovers.” With Ellaria, there had never been that question, but for some reason, it seems terribly important to work out before he causes a hurt he cannot kiss away.

“I expect it.” It is not precisely an answer to his question, but at least it is honest. “You cannot be satisfied by limitations, I knew that when I first went to your bed and I know that still. And, if I am perfectly honest, I admit to being surprised that you have not bedded anyone else since our first night together. I thought to spend most nights with Raeden. Or…even alone.”

“Why alone?” That makes him frown fiercely, and his dark eyes pierce into yours demanding the answer.

“If you are with someone else and Raeden is with Ellaria, then surely I must be keeping my own company.” It is not a judgment call. Simply a fact. But one that apparently neither of you enjoys.

“Princess, you never have to be alone.” He huffs. “Even if you did not join, you would be welcomed to lounge on a chaise and eat berries while I fuck.” He teases, hoping to chase away the clouds of sorrow in your eyes.

“I fear that while I enjoy being observed, I do not think I would enjoy watching you take pleasure in another.” Yet another unfortunate truth that you feel compelled to divulge to him, but it is what it is. “Unless it were Ellaria or Raeden…or someone else you cared for.”

“Hmmmm.” He nods in understanding, and lets go of your chin to lean in to press a soft kiss to your lips.

"Perhaps you may hurt me, but I fear I will still prove a disappointment to you." He had observed once that he did not have the power to hurt you because he did not hold your heart. The terrible truth is that with every passing day you become less and less sure of the truth of that statement. Fight it though you might, it seems very possible that your affection for your husband has outgrown what it once was. And that makes you not only a potentially disappointing wife, but a disgrace of a soulmate to Raeden as well.

“How?” He tilts his head curiously, wanting to see why you would think so.

"Try as I might, I do not think I am as free as you would wish me to be." As free as Ellaria is, you think loudly and with growing remorse. This night has already strayed a long way from the promise of a shared bath and a warm bed.

“I want you to be as free as you are comfortable.” He takes another sip of his wine. “I have not visited a brothel or tossed a servant’s skirts up.” He reminds you with a wink. “I’ve not even had Cal suck my cock, though that mouth is a gift from the gods, old and new.”

"I will sleep on the chaise tonight if you wish to share your bed with him." You would, your twisting chest tells you without words, do anything he wanted. It is an alarming thing to realize and you wince slightly without realizing it.

“You misunderstand my meaning, star.” He shakes his head and reminds himself not to get frustrated with you. “Checking to see if you have developed curiosities does not mean I wish to have another in our bed.” He murmurs quietly. “Freedom and security is all I am offering. The freedom to take or leave it, and the security to know that I will not rebuke you for it.” His hand takes yours and he brings it up to his lips to kiss the back of it like he had the first time he greeted you.

"And you have the same freedom, which is why I offered." The way he changes from intimate to polite at the drop of a hat is mercurial at best and infuriating at worst, but you remind yourself that you still do not know him as well as you think you do. As well as you wish you did. Your marriage is barely a fortnight old.

He sighs softly and gives you a fond smile. “My stars and moon, I have found that I am exhausted by the time you collapse into my arms.”

"Then perhaps I am not so disappointing a wife after all." For now, you can only pray that he remains satisfied with your time together.

“There will come a time that I hope all of us might be together.” He admits softly, leaning in and nudging your nose. “I would like to see you impaled on your soulmate's cock, full of my heir with your skin glowing and your belly swollen.”

That image – the image of the four of you so deeply entwined together – is one that you will soak in and burrow inside. At this stage of things, it is the truest version of what you desire. "If we are lucky, that day will not be so far away."

Perhaps not. Instead of answering, he nods and stands when he hears footsteps approaching. “That will be Cal.” He hums.

“Do you still wish me to stay? To bathe with you?” After the unexpected conversation, you would not blame him if he had changed his mind.

“Stand up and come to me.” He orders, turning away from the table where he was refilling his cup.

It is not often he gives orders, and your tendency from childhood is to follow them as long as they are not cruel, so you do what he says. Standing from the large, cushioned chair you had been sharing, you get up and cross the room to stand before him.

Cal opens the door and nods respectfully to Oberyn, The prince smirks slightly and nods in return before shifting his eyes towards his wife.“My lord.” Cal comes into the room with buckets of water and nods to you both. “My lady.”

“Strip.” He orders you softly, only to where you can hear him. He wants to see if you will argue or if you will trust him.

It is not necessarily so unusual an order, considering Cal has come to fill the bath, and you reach for your laces thinking only that Oberyn's tone is a bit odd.

Pride fills him, pride that you had admitted a preference for being with those you care for and yet you place your trust in him when Cal is in the room. He sets his cup down and his fingers tangle with yours. “Would you strip in front of Cal if I wished it?” He hums against your neck, “would you let me bare you in front of him to see your gorgeous cunt and delicious tits?”

It is not something you would ever think to do, nor is it something perhaps something that would be everyday behavior for you, but you nod slowly. This feels like a test, and you do not intend to fail him if you can help it. "I trust you," you tell him quietly. Quietly, but surely.

“Good.” He rasps out, sliding his hand up from your laces and cups your neck to drag you against him and plunders your mouth in a ravenous kiss.

Confident that you have passed his test at least for now, you sigh into the kiss and let him take all that he could possibly want from you. Because Oberyn gives as much as he takes it is no hardship - in fact it is entirely the opposite. It feels like being worshiped with every breath.

He breaks the kiss when Cal leaves to fetch more buckets and he smirks at you. “You did well, Princess.” He coos with a wink. “You always do well, you just need to believe it.”

"In time." Relieved that you were correct about his intentions, you let yourself lean into his embrace for a moment. "I think perhaps I have been molded out of clay that you know more of how to reshape than I do."

“Just be honest in how you wish to be shaped, Star.” He murmurs softly.

"I cannot claim to know just yet." An alarming thought does float to the top of your mind, though, pushing to be noticed and clamoring to be said. You swallow it deliberately. Too afraid of the words to even know how to form them on your tongue.

"Then we will make sure that you are not pushed into anything too soon." He toys with the laces of your dress and huffs quietly, unable to wait until you are in Dorne and wearing dresses that are far easier to access than these Northern dresses.

“Once again my gown is vexing to you?” The small tease feels good after such a serious conversation as you have had, and you look over your shoulder at him. “If there was a Dornish dressmaker in the Capitol I would have seen her immediately.”

"Wear nothing and make all of the women stew in their jealousy." He grunts, only teasing slightly because he knows your modesty will not allow that. You still cover up when anyone comes into the room, including Leyth until you are sure that it is just your maid.

“Perhaps one day.” If that day ever comes it will be a long way off, but he knows that. Instead you tip your head back further to kiss his cheek. “But well before that, I will be glad to be rid of all of these undergarments.”

"So do not wear them." He proposes easily. "You do not need them. You should be bare under your dresses."

“Truthfully?” This time you do turn fully, a slightly bemused and embarrassed smile on your face. “I asked Leyth to help me dress without them a few days ago and the dresses simply do not look or fit right. They are made for them.”

"How terribly proper of the ladies of the North." Oberyn snorts and continues to toy with your laces. "When it comes time, I will cut your dresses off of you in my eagerness to touch you, star." He promises quietly.

You hum. “It will be the only time gowns have ever been hunted for sport.”

“Vicious, dangerous creatures – cumbersome gowns.” He smirks slightly and decides to loosen some of your laces to make it easier for him to touch you.

“I can put on my dressing gown before Cal comes back,” you remind him. “If you truly want it gone.”

“No.” He isn’t going to disrobe you since you will be uncomfortable. “I just want to touch my wife.”

“That is certainly permissible.” If you could, you would loosen your laces for him and let his hands slip under your clothing to let him touch anywhere.

"I know." He doesn't say that because as your husband, he has every right to touch you whether you like it or not, but because you will let him touch you.

Cal returns shortly with more steaming water, readying the prince’s bath near the fire and with tamped wood underneath to keep the metal tub warm. As a soldier Oberyn Martell has faced plenty of cold baths and far worse conditions – as a prince he has the luxury of insisting for better. When he goes again it is to leave you and Oberyn alone for the night, and that small relief is enough to relax you a bit more.

"They have private rooms." He tells you. "Cal and Leyth. Allowed to sleep together safely every night." He is talking just to talk, but to also put you at ease. Pulling your dress down as he does.

“They deserve as much.” Neither of them knows any of the fate of their soulmate, they have said, but their love for each other is evident. Not everyone is lucky enough to know the other half of their soul – but at least Cal and Leyth are able to share one heart.

"I think they are happy here with us." He hopes they are at least. He had taken them from the brothel where they had known what to expect and thrown them into the world of nobles and lies.

“And if they decide they are not, they now have the power to make their own way in the world.” A fact which makes you hum softly as Oberyn undresses you. The irony that your servants have far more freedom than you do is not lost on you.

His fingers pause for a split second as he comes to the same conclusion and he resumes the task with a hum. "Yes, they will." He says after a moment.

“I suppose you do, in fact, have more meetings tomorrow?” The amount of time that the small council seems to spend ruminating over the smallest matters is extraordinary to you. Oberyn and Raeden seem perpetually frustrated and tired each evening.

"No." Oberyn lets the dress fall to the floor and he hums as he sees the layers of underclothes. "Tomorrow the trial begins."

“How could I have lost track of time so easily?” Days blend together here, you have found, and you shake your head. “We will all be there.”

"Ellaria will stay here." He knows his lover and she would be bored with the trial. "I know she does not wish to watch an innocent man be wronged."

“Nor do I, but I promised Margaery.” Oberyn had said it was up to you whether or not you came, but a promise to a queen cannot be broken.

"Do you wish to have Raeden sit with you?" He asks softly, knowing that you will feel comforted by his presence.

“Only if he wishes to attend.” It is your turn to undress your husband, but your work is much faster than his for lack of an abundance of laces. “My comfort is not more important than his.”

"Raeden will attend, his comfort notwithstanding." Oberyn tells you. "He is now a Lord representing Dorne."

“Then I will ask him to sit with me.” You lift the robe he wears from his shoulders and lay it nearby with care. “That seems only polite.”

"Polite." He chuckles quietly and plucks the ties of his breeches open. "You are always polite."

“Some of the things about my upbringing were not terrible.” You attest, frowning for affect because you know he is only teasing you. “I never liked thinking of Raeden as being inferior. It is a comfort that you have elevated him so that he no longer is.” The thought makes you sigh slightly, but you swallow it. “To where he belongs.”

"I have given him nothing that he has not earned." Oberyn insists. "Your own father should have elevated him beyond a mere knight." He huffs, shaking his head. "He had a good man under his nose and he could not even sniff him out." He had a less than stellar opinion of the man due to him letting his wife run his household, but this had made him sink even lower.

“I suspect my mother may have had more to do with keeping Raeden a subordinate than anything else,” you admit ruefully. “If Father had elevated him, there would be nothing to keep us from marrying for love.”

He snorts and rolls his eyes, making a face that would tell you exactly how he felt about your mother. "And then you would have been actually happy." He murmurs softly.

“Do not say such a thing.” Rather than being insistent or upset, your voice is quiet. Pleading. There are words you cannot bring yourself to say. Things that you feel that you have battled from the very beginning and have only grown stronger. But one thing you are not is unhappy. “I am happy.”

He senses there is something else, something you are unwilling to share and it seems as if there are three people around him who carry secrets that are to be kept from him. "Then we will not talk." He pulls the ties of your shift and pulls it over your head to reveal your body to his eyes and immediately guides you back towards the tub.

“Because I insist I am happy with you, we will not talk?” You ask, bewildered and instantly upset.

"We will not talk so I can show you how I feel." He hums, gripping your hip and pulling you close.

Oberyn's expression is rarely done with words despite how eloquent he can be when he chooses. He would nearly always rather express himself by fucking or fighting, you have found, and while that is admirable in a soldier it is not always particularly helpful in your husband. Especially when you are the sort of person who benefits from having things spelled out for you. It is only because you have shared so many kisses that you understand instinctively that this kiss shared between you is somehow different.

He tries to keep his emotions out of it, but it bleeds through the kiss. Pouring into your mouth from his. Keeping his tongue busy and following it up by keeping his hands moving over you. Guiding you towards the bath and at the same time stripping off his breeches.

The large, heavy tub has held both of you before and you are certain it will again, but tonight when your legs knock against it the wind seems almost to knock out of you at the same time. His movements are as hurried as they are sure, making you all but certain that there are things he is not willing to say to you. It is a vain thing to hope that they might be the same things you cannot bring yourself to say to him, but somehow even the prince himself is keeping secrets.

He reaches up, tangling his hand into your braid and starts to pull it apart. Wanting your hair down, his to touch – to pull. Once the two of you are in the bath, he pulls you into his lap. "What do you want, Princess?" He demands roughly.

Instinctively, your answer ought to be that you have everything you want, for it is very nearly true. But what he means is what do you want from him, and that is a very different question altogether. The bath is the best place for only one kind of intimacy and so you straddle his hips carefully in the wide metal tub. “You, husband.”

His cock is already hard so it is not hard to pull you down on him. Reaching for the cloth and the soap, he rocks his hips up and lathers up the rag so he can drag it over your skin. "I will wash you." He tells you.

"I do not believe I have washed myself once since we married." Though it might be a cheeky observation, it is also true. Oberyn seems to take delight in the show of gentle care.

"You have been bathed by all your lovers, star?" He asks, smirking slightly. "My princess is becoming quite spoiled."

“Ellaria insists. And I have learned quickly not to question her.” The slow, languid pace that you ride him is luxurious and you have no wish to hurry it. Not tonight.

"Has she bathed with you?" He asks curiously. "Or just washed you while exploring your body?"

"I–" It takes a moment of thinking, but you look down at him with a similarly curious expression. "I cannot recall precisely."

He has to give it to his lover, she is good at confusing or redirecting someone. Especially when she distracts them with her sexual prowess. He has no doubt you were cumming while you were being bathed and the fog of pleasure distracted you from anything else.

“Surely it was only a coincidence if she did not.” The wheels of his mind are turning, and sometimes you truly cannot fathom what may come from that. Right now all you want to focus on is him.

“Surely.” He agrees with you, even if he does not mean that. Instead, he kisses along your neck and pays special attention to a small mark on your skin. Laving it with his tongue gently before pulling back to examine it. “What did you do here, Star?” He asks, curious to know what caused it.

“It is Raeden’s mark,” you tell him without thinking anything of the fact. “A scratch from his training as a young man.”

“It is?” Oberyn’s eyes narrow on the mark and he runs his fingers over it again. “Interesting.”

“Only if you consider sparring to be interesting.” Which, at this moment, you absolutely do not. You would much rather concentrate on the man inside you.

“Sparring is always interesting.” He muses, rocking up into you with a rougher thrust that had water splashing over the edge of the tub. “Do you not feel my spear?”

The sharpness of the thrust makes you moan, head falling back as you grip his shoulders to hold on. “Always— I feel you even when you are not inside me.”

“Good.” Oberyn hisses and holds onto you tighter. “I want you to feel me. Every second of every day.”

"Think sometimes you want – oh gods!—" A particularly hard thrust rocks through you and you keen loud enough that you are sure someone heard you, but the idea bothers you less and less. "Want one of us on your cock at all times."

“It would be a nice way to live.” He doesn’t deny it, smirking as he watches your tits bounce and your tongue stick out between your teeth.

"Wicked man." It is barely chiding – a mere tease at best, but you gasp out again as you grind down onto his length with swirls of your hips. "Wicked."

“Completely wicked.” He chuckles and leans down to wrap his lips around your nipple.

“Thank the gods.” You groan deeply as you both give yourselves over to the pleasure once more. It seems every night and every morning that you cannot have enough of each other and you are having such trouble now in keeping your sleepy thoughts to yourself in the first waking moments. It can never be – you promised yourself that – but you never anticipated that Oberyn would be such a good and clever man. Such a supportive and caring husband. The promise you made to yourself was when you thought he would be a cur. It gets more difficult each day not to admit more.

“Gods, Star.” Oberyn groans, getting closer to cumming and he is loving how open you are with him now. How his seemingly uninterested wife now rides him with an eagerness that is nearly unmatched. “You are exquisite.”

“Kiss me.” If he does not you might say something you regret. Or worse – not regret it at all. And that possibility is at its highest when you are coming apart in his arms, which you will be in mere seconds.

He almost refuses, but he has quickly learned he can refuse you nothing. His mouth latches onto your with a kiss that is both passionate and tender, assertive and giving. Sure that he will awaken the ancient dragons below the keep in the dungeons with the force of his groan.

It seems almost a cue for your body, the way that his sounds of pleasure rip through you and always pull a shaking orgasm from your body as he pours that passion into his kiss. Your cunt bears down on him, clutching and pulling him as deep into your body as you can manage while states burst behind your eyes and a cry of your own melts in his tongue for him to swallow.

Oberyn’s singular focus is on you. Feeling the way that your body shakes and keens in pleasure. Only satisfied to take his own release now that you are seen to. His grip bruises and his thrust manage to be brutal, even without the natural momentum of being on top of you. Holding you close in an iron grip until he is buried deep, groaning your name as he floods your womb with his seed.

The moment tears into you, crashing through your nerves and over your heart like a wave heralding the incoming chaos of a storm. There is too much in you to pretend anymore — and despite the way your heart aches at feeling that you have betrayed your love for Raeden, it is no longer something you can deny. The affection you feel for Oberyn has bubbled over. It is more than that. Perhaps it has been from the beginning. But the wracking sob that shakes your frame as he holds you close to him is proof to yourself that you cannot deny it any longer. Falling in love with your husband was never meant to be, but it has happened regardless. And all at once the single sob from your lips is followed by a scream of searing agony. It feels like small fires have lit all over your skin and no water in the world could soothe them.

“Star!” Oberyn’s eyes widen in shock, perhaps a moment of fear as your scream fills the air. It is not one of pleasure, it is pure agony and he’s lifting you off of him for fear he had pushed too deep and wounded you in some way. That he had somehow breached your womb and done you a great wound. “Gods, tell me what is wrong!” He cries, trying to be delicate with you as he stands and lifts you out of the water to rush you over towards the bed.

As quickly as the burning begins it seems to end in a moment’s flash. The pain is all too familiar, but the shock of how intense it is has dropped the well of tears before they can begin, leaving you in shock. All that is left is for you to sputter and cling to him, shaking with disbelief. “It—” You gasp for breath and manage to look down your body even for the briefest moment. “Gods above…” There are new scars marring your skin. Ones that you know all too well – from Oberyn’s body. “H—how?”

“What? What is it?” He demands, not looking at your body, but your face. Too worried about his wife’s health to pay attention to you and needing you to answer him. He’s about to call for a maester. You don’t say anything and so his eyes drift down to find marks on your body that he is familiar with. “Star…” he breathes out. “What has happened?”

Scrambling for the familiar, you frantically bend your leg to see if Raeden’s marks have somehow been replaced, but find the goring mark from the day he saved your life still carved into the skin of your inner thigh where it has been for years. “I do not—” spluttering for an explanation that you could never conceive, your hands search out Raeden’s other marks on your skin and find each one where it should be. “Impossible.” You manage, with confusion and an almost awe-struck fear in your voice.

“You have two sets of marks.” Oberyn manages after a moment, his eyes studiously contemplating the situation before him. A book in the Citadel’s library springs forward in his mind. It had been one on soulmates. Something he had no interest in at the time. Now he wishes he had read the book when boredom had taken hold.

“It is not possible.” You insist again, desperate to understand what is happening despite the evidence in front of you. The evidence that is on you.

“Apparently, you are mistaken.” He reaches out and touches one of your scars, his scars, in wonder. “Fantastic.” He muses as he examines the skin. Wondering how such a thing could be and yet it is here before his eyes.

“Fantastic?” The shock of hearing him be so enthusiastic about this development is almost as shocking as what happened in and of itself. You had been about to start apologizing.

“Two soulmates.” He muses, shaking his head and tracing your other soulmate’s scar. “It seems as though you might wish to be a simple woman with a simple life with your lover, you are not destined for that.”

“You are…pleased?” Fighting the instinct to cover yourself, which is unnecessary in front of your husband and ridiculous considering he wears these marks, you cannot stop staring at him in disbelief.

“Intrigued.” He tells you, his eyes sliding up to meet yours. “Wondering. And pleased.” Of course he’s pleased his wife bears his marks.

“I—” Still at a loss for words, all you can think to do is shake your head a few more times before trying again. “It did not happen to you…how is this possible?”

“I am not sure.” He admits with a small shrug of his shoulders. “There is a book in the Citadel on soulmates. Perhaps you should read it.”

"For once, books are the furthest thing from my mind." Sinking back into the mattress, the urge to cover yourself is overpowering again as you try to process what has happened. How in the instant that you admitted to yourself that what you feel for your husband is more than mere affection, his marks had appeared on you.

Your husband watches you seemingly close yourself off from him again. A wall building between you because you wear his marks. You are pulling away from him, undoing all the closeness the past weeks have brought. He frowns slightly and straightens so he can step back. “I will get you some wine.” He decides that giving you a minute is the best thing and turns around to grab the drying cloth since he is still dripping water onto the stone floors.

The momentary impulse to watch him walk away — to try to understand his melancholy as well as your own unease — becomes all the more unbelievable in an instant. “O-Oberyn…” You gasp, climbing out of the bed again with wide eyes. “Your back…” The switch marks you had received from your mother as a child of seven for the unladylike offense of climbing a tree stand out against his tan skin and you can’t help but gape.

“What about my back?” He asks, drying off slightly and turning towards you. He flashes you a small smile, a cover for his discontent in your reaction. “Scratches you make during sex do not bother me, Star.”

“It is not scratches I made.” Although those are there, too. “It is ones my mother made…”

He pauses, frowning and tilting his head for a moment as your meaning becomes clear to him. “Scars?” He asks. “I am wearing your marks. Is that what you are telling me?”

“Check your arm.” There is a mark there from when your brothers had been teaching you to handle a dagger and Antony accidentally nicked you with the tip of his blade. Your eldest brother had babied you for a week in apology.

He looks down at his arm and frowns. Bringing it up to inspect closer, he sees a mark that he doesn’t recall having before. “What is this from?” He asks, sure that it is your mark.

“Antony caught me with a blade when I was thirteen.” You explain carefully, trying to absorb the implications of what has happened. “My brothers were teaching me to defend myself.”

“What other scars do you have?” He demands, immediately starting to search his skin for marks that are new. “Not Raeden’s, yours.”

“The only other is on my ankle.” Every other scar on your body previously was Raeden’s. Now Oberyn’s mar your skin as well. “I was bitten by a stray dog and caught a fever.”

Bare assed, Oberyn bends down to examine his ankles and chuckles. “I did not know that scars could be so attractive, Star.”

“The dog that left it was mangy and mean,” you chuckle, not knowing what else to say in your disbelief. “How is this possible?”

“I do not know.” Oberyn admits, frustrated that he does not know the answers that you are seeking. “When I was training to be a maester, I had no interest in soulmates, so I did not study the matter.”

“Did you already know Ellaria then?” If he did, you can see him being content not to learn more. He already knew everything he needed to. If not? You cannot imagine not wondering - but you have a different outlook than Oberyn does.

“No.” He shrugs slightly as he stands straight. “I had watched my sister endure her own soulmate running off to be with another woman. Leaving her to deal with the madman who sat on that throne and refuse to come home because she had thought it was her place to stay and wait for Rhaegar to realize his mistake and come home.” He snorts and shakes his head. “She loved him and was stubborn.” The grin he flashes is wry. “A Martell family trait, I’m afraid.

“There are worse things than to love unerringly and to be stubborn about it.” Inching to the edge of the bed, you reach for him to give him the option of returning to your side if he wishes. “In fact they may be traits we share.”

“Yes.” Oberyn takes the invitation and strides over to the bed to sit down. “It is said that a Martell, once they love, it is for life.”

With your arms tangled around each other it seems easier to breathe, and you bury your face in his chest for a moment to do just that. What has happened is a miracle only read about folk tales or fantasy romances. Even then the tales are always of someone gaining a second soulmate after the death of their first. Never about having two soulmates at once. Still, you cannot ignore this gift from the gods. It is miraculous in and of itself. “I do not think there is such a saying about my house, but perhaps there should be.”

He wonders if that means that you love him. He had thought you might but your loyalty to Raeden was strong and you might have fought it. “Yes.” He murmurs softly. “Your Raeden is lucky to have such a fierce love.”

Though you nod slightly against his chest, you lean back to look into his face. For such an expressive man, he betrays nothing unless he wants to. And it makes you sigh softly, swallowing your fear. “If the gods have seen fit to give me two soulmates, I can see fit to love them equally.”

Oberyn's hand finds your cheek, caressing it softly as he stares into your eyes, gauging your comment and finding nothing but naked hope shining in your eyes. "Star..." He murmurs softly. "You must know that there is a place in my heart that belongs to you. I think it has since you begged me to marry you to save your Raeden and it has only grown bigger since then."

“It sounds so dramatic when you say it like that.” Dramatic and poetic – and of course Oberyn is a professed poet.

It was not the response he was expecting and his lips curl into a pout. "You believed me crass before and now dramatic." He huffs at you, his fingers still caressing your skin. "Next you will say I am boring."

“If I claimed so, it would only be to see you pout at me.” You lean close to him, feeling your skin tingle and breath catch with this admission you have made to yourself and the stunning result of having two soulmates. “But…” you press a soft kiss to his lips. “I do not think I could ever love a boring man. And I must confess to loving you more deeply than I have been able to reconcile.”

“You have been fighting it.” He surmises, not surprised by that. There have been moments where he could see your guilt at being apart from Raeden for so long. Times where he had almost sent you to the other man to cast away the unease in your eyes.

"Are you upset with me for doing so?" That is the furthest thing from what you want, but you would understand it. Understand that he was hurt or disappointed by his wife fighting against falling in love with him.

“Why would it upset me?” He asks you, tilting his head curiously. “You have freely admitted that you are not like Ellaria or I, sharing the ease of our physical affections. Why would emotions be any different?” It’s reasonable and rational, and he’s surprised that you think he would not understand your internal conflict. “The only upset that I harbor is that you have been upset by it. Even if it was passing moments.”

"You have changed my life in so many ways," you admit quietly, leaning your head once more on his shoulder to have him close. "I think I had no idea just how many changes you would make simply by being at my side. Or by allowing me to be at yours."

“I only allow you to take your rightful place as my Princess.” He teases with a smile as he wraps his arm around you. “You have been the one doing all the work.”

"It was no work to fall in love with you." For better or for worse, it is the truth. And a truth you will no longer be hiding.

“You have been working.” He hums. “Working to make sure that your lover is safe, that my lover’s feelings are respected.” He rubs your arm. “Working to become the woman you are meant to be.”

“I only hope that it is someone you can all be proud of.” If you can accomplish that, you reason, it will have been worth every ounce of effort. Their happiness and comfort is everything to you. Your two soulmates, and fascinating, intimidating Ellaria.

“Two soulmates.” He muses, shaking his head. “I am already proud of you, Star.” He promises. “Never doubt that.”

“Though I am not sure why, I will wear it proudly.” Turning your head, you place a kiss on his shoulder before another sigh escapes you. “We should tell them in the morning. I do not like the idea of keeping secrets.”

“Hmmmm, you don’t?” He asks lazily, kissing your shoulder. “Perhaps we should sit with it another day or so. Find some answers to our questions.”

“How can we?” He could distract a dragon from its gold with that mouth, and you have nowhere near the strength of a dragon. “The trial begins tomorrow. We will not have time to go to the Citadel.”

“Perhaps you could go after the break for the noon meal.” Oberyn is well aware that there will be plenty of breaks for the whims of the lords, and this is important. “You can take Cal with you.”

“What should I be looking for?” The idea of keeping secrets from Raeden and Ellaria bothers you more than you can say, but Oberyn seems resolute — and he usually has good reason for the things that he does.

“See if there is anything written on two soulmates.” He instructs you, knowing your studious mind would quickly absorb the information if it was to be found. “When you arrive, seek out the maester that married us. Do you remember his name?”

“Rhodestone.” The man will forever be an important and anxious memory for you, so you have not forgotten.

He nods in approval and kisses your shoulder again. “Good girl. Tell him that I want to you to have access to every tome on soulmates they have.”

“And I will bring back any findings to you…before we inform our soulmates?” He must have a reason for wanting it done this way, you just wish he would share it with you.

“That seems the best way to present it. Would you not agree?” His eyes slide up to yours and he waits for your honest opinion.

“I suppose I simply do not like secrets,” you admit with a small shrug of your shoulders. “But I can see the virtue in doing research first.”

He hums in agreement. “If you truly wish to tell them, I will not stop you.”

“I would not interrupt them now.” The sounds of their pleasure bleed through the wall and you are only confused – and slightly deflated – by the fact that they did not come to see what had happened when you screamed. “I will think on it again in the morning.”

“I wonder why I did not feel your marks.” He grunts, squeezing you close again since you gave him the answer he wanted before he stands back up. “Do you wish to wash up? Or simply stay in the bed?”

“It would be self-flattery to suggest you did not feel them out of some kind of worry about me.” Even knowing you share the same feelings for each other - knowing the gods have declared you soulmates - you cannot imagine thinking that well of yourself in any way and you slip backward under the bedclothes in answer to his question. “It is likely the immunity of a soldier. Pain does not bother you the way it bothers others.”

“No,” he shakes his head as he moves towards the wine. Determined to get you that cup. “I was concerned with what was happening to you. I feared that I had injured you.”

“With your cock?” The idea almost makes you snort, and in holding it in, you end up smirking at him. “I confess I would never have considered that a possibility.”

He could say something crass or revolting, but he reminds himself that you are very innocent in many ways. He purses his lips at you in a pout. “What else was I to believe? It is not as if I expected you to suddenly gain my scars.” He slides into bed with you, not spilling a drop of the wine and kisses the closest scar that is also on his body.

“No one could have expected it.” His warm breath on your skin is as welcome as the wine and you sip it gratefully.

“Does it upset you to carry my marks?” He asks curiously. Eager to know your thoughts on bearing his and Raeden’s scars on your body. “Does it make you feel disloyal to your lover?”

“I thought it made me disloyal to…to fall in love with you…” you admit, leaning back against the bedhead and contemplating him carefully. “But it seems that I am meant to share my heart as I share my bed. There is no loss here, as I feared there would inevitably be. Only gain.”

He nods slowly and sighs softly. “I know there are a lot of challenges in our situation, but I want you to know that you are free to love whoever you wish. Share with me, of course, but your heart is your own.

“It is not something that comes easily to me, but as you say…once it has blossomed it is endless.” The wine in your hand is helpful for steadying your nerves, but gratefully it is watered down. A clear head is necessary here. “I have wondered for some years if I loved Brynna, and the wondering is why I am not so certain. With Raeden, and with you? It is like an unquenchable fire.”

“There are many types of love.” Oberyn reminds you. “The innocent first loves are there to remind you of something pure. Even if it was fleeting.” You have not had time or space to allow for you to experience such a thing. Girls being held to a vastly different standard than boys in the Seven Kingdoms.

“Perhaps it was innocent and pure, then.” That would be a comfort. That though it was secret and felt terribly wrong, it was nothing of the sort. “It would be nice to think of her that way.”

“You should.” He encourages you. “You have such a capacity for love, Star. I would be surprised if you don’t recall your time with your Brynna with tender affection.”

“I can only hope that Raeden takes the discovery with half as much grace as you have.” That is where your worry lies now, though you cannot imagine what he will actually say either way.

“I think he will not cause you any grief.” He predicts. “He will accept it.”

“Do you think Ellaria will be as accepting?” It does not, after all, only affect you.

“Ellaria will understand why such a thing happens.” He muses, rocking his jaw in contemplation.

“You are always so certain of everything.” As though you could absorb some of his assuredness, you lay your head on his chest when he puts his arms around you. “I envy that.”

“You do?” He hums thoughtfully and smirks as he rubs your back. “I shall teach you how to be certain, love.”

"There is plenty to envy about you." To hear him call you love is a bright and shining moment of goodness that you had not looked for, but it washes over you with joy. "At least I need not envy anyone for being close to you."

“No, I imagine a perfect world would be sleeping beside both of my soulmates.” He chuckles. “Lavishing you both with attention.”

"You would need a very big bed," you laugh softly at the idea, trying to assemble the visual in your mind. "I would want both of my soulmates there, as well."

“Much bigger than this.” He scoffs, indicating the bed you are in. There wouldn’t be much room for a child if one had a bad dream with the two of you in it, let alone two other adults. “We will have to have one made for our chambers in Sunspear.”

"How wonderfully luxurious." Conjuring the image for yourself makes you hum and turn your head to smile at him. "A four-person bed. Can you imagine?"

“I can.” He chuckles again. “Rolling over and deciding who I am going to fuck is a delightful image.”

"I believe that might even be your dream." You cannot help but tease him, enjoying the sound of his laugh immensely.

“Would it not be a dream?” He asks you, cocking a brow up in challenge. “Turning over to mount my cock, or turn the other way to swallow your lovers? Perhaps ignoring both of us to find pleasure with Ellaria. Letting me wake to your combined sweet moans.”

Wanting to be as confident or as bold as he might be, you straighten your spine and smirk back at him. "I think if you woke to our shared moans, it would not take long for you to impale one of us on your cock."

“Perhaps.” He enjoys the confidence in your smile and winks at you. “Or perhaps I will make your Raeden moan louder.” He teases.

"A competition." It makes you actually laugh, even if it is just an amused little chuckle. "That would be very like you both, I think."

“He will be very competitive.” Oberyn predicts with a grin.

"I think you have that effect on people." Still grinning, you lean over to press a kiss to the corner of his mouth. "We should sleep, love. Tomorrow is sure to be a trying day."

He snorts in amusement. “Yes it will be, Star.” He agrees. “A trying trial, certainly.”

"I had not even--" The pun had not crossed your mind and you roll your eyes at him with doting affection. "You are teasing me."

“I am.” His nose nudges yours and he kisses you one last time. “Sleep star, we will see where fate takes us in the morning.”

******

Unfortunately, Fate sees you sleeping in, in the morning. Instead of lazily making love again before , you and Oberyn are up and dressing as soon as Leyth and Cal reappear. Apparently you had been impossible to wake an hour ago when they first tried.

“Sit with Raeden.” Oberyn instructs you, reaching up and caressing your cheek. “Make sure that you do not reveal what you are thinking on your face. Act aloof and almost disinterested.”

"Am I still to go to the Citadel during the break?" Provided that Maester Rhodestone will be willing to help you, the idea of trying to find a book - or several books - about soulmates is enticing in the light of day.

“Yes.” He would go himself, but there is no way to delay the trial. “Find what you can.”

"I will find out everything I can." You give him a firm, lingering kiss before his brisk exit from your chamber, knowing that he has to be to the trial early before spectators and all manner of other attendees arrive. Dressed in one of your more modest Northern gowns that will cover all of the new marks you have gained, you add the necklace he gave you the morning of the royal wedding and make sure both of your rings are in place before knocking gently on the chamber door where Raeden and Ellaria are starting to move about.

When the door opens, Ellaria breezes out, completely dressed “Star, you look positively radiant this morning. Oberyn must have planted his seed deep.”

"We slept late this morning." Is this excuse you give, finding it hard to look her in the eye with the secret of last night's truths weighing heavily on your shoulders. "But you look more stunning than ever. I trust you slept well?"

“Like a baby cosseted in silk.” She assures you with a smile as she comes over to cup your cheeks and kiss your lips. “I must thank you for allowing me to spend time with Raeden.”

"As I must thank you for allowing me to spend time with Oberyn." It does not matter that both men are now your soulmates, what matters is that the four of you have struck a balance that works for everyone. Which, right now, you are not sure Oberyn would agree with.

“You are planning to go to the trial, yes?” She asks, having no interest herself but encouraging you if that is your wish.

"I promised Margaery." Otherwise you would now be spending the entire day with Maester Rhodestone, scouring the Citadel for your necessary research. "In fact...I was hoping to ask Raeden to sit with me during the proceedings."

“Lover!” Ellaria calls over her shoulder before she beams at you. “I know he will be pleased to spend time with you.”

"I have missed him," you admit with a slightly sheepish sigh.

“I have been selfish.” She hums. “Keeping your lover for myself.” She pouts slightly and there is a flash of something in her eyes. “I am sorry, Princess.”

"I could have asked at any time." But you had not, and your growing bond with your husband has now resulted in something miraculous. So you press a kiss to her lips and offer her a sincere smile. "I am glad that you have found such affection for each other. It makes our intertwined lives far more enjoyable."

“Yes.” A cloud of doubt passes over her face before a pleased smile chases it away. “I am sure we will be well pleased with our arrangement. Nothing to worry about.”

"There is not anything to worry about," you murmur your agreement with a nod. "Enjoy your day far away from the trial, Ellaria. I am sure we will all much rather hear about how you spend your time than discuss the proceedings over supper tonight."

“I am certain I will have a much more entertaining time than you.” She reaches up and squeezes your shoulders affectionately and gives you one last smile as Raeden steps out of ‘their’ bedroom.

Ellaria slips away with a mysterious smile and you turn to the towering man who has been so familiar to you for years. "Good morning, my love." He is that, no matter who else might also live in your heart, and this morning you find yourself sure of it rather than afraid as you had been last night.

“Good morning.” Raeden’s smile is rather sheepish and he reaches out to pull you against him, still in awe of the fact that he can do so without worry. “Did you sleep well, my love?”

“I did.” You tilt your head back to smile up at him and silently ask for a kiss. “Did you?”

“Should I feel guilty if I say I did?” He asks with an amused twist to his lips. He rubs his hands up your arms and stares into your eyes softly.

“Of course not.” Such a motion makes you frown and you shake your head. “In fact I far prefer for you to sleep well. No matter who you share your bed with. If you had not, I would be asking Ellaria why.”

The nagging guilt eases and he flashes you a small smile. “I have no doubt that you sleep well in the Prince’s bed.” He muses. “After he has worn you out and filled you with his seed.” The jealousy of knowing you must carry Oberyn’s child before his own is nothing but a small twinge and he would never voice it out loud. Too aware of everything the man has given him already.

“I will bear one for him and one for you, and the rest for whichever the gods decree,” you hum, seeming to read his mind. Your connection has always been a very deep one. “But I am afraid I have a favor to ask of you, my love. If that is acceptable?”

“Anything in my power to give you is yours. You know this.” He reminds you, although now he has a chance of giving you more than his loyalty.

“I had hoped to coax you to sit with me during the trial.” It sounds like such a small, silly thing, but it means so much to you. “Years of hiding or affection can be over, if we want it to be. But all I wish for is the comfort of your presence.”

“I would be honored to sit beside the Princess of Dorne, but more importantly, my soulmate.” Raeden straightens proudly and nods. “I am to sit with the other lords.”

“I see nothing wrong with a Princess of Dorne sitting to observe with the lords of her country. You will do your duty as a Head of House and we will have the luxury of each other’s company.” He is so utterly proud to be elevated and recognized for his noble blood and you grin to see him preening. “You deserve this place, my love. Oberyn bestowed it upon you because he saw that right away.”

“I hope so.” He has been worried that it is because he is your soulmate, or worse, because the prince wants to fuck him. Hoping to earn the title that has been bestowed upon him. “It is vastly different from being your guard.”

“I hope it is a good change, and not one that brought you cause for worry?” The last thing you want is to make his life harder, but you also know that this change is something he has desired for a long time. For perhaps his entire life.

“It is very good.” He nods and smiles at you. “I cannot describe it, my love, but I feel….free.” There had not been the mistrust amongst the Dornish lords that he might have faced in the Vale. He knows that it is a good thing for him and is looking forward to establishing his house.

“Then I hope you embrace it fully.” The fact that you feel very much the same is not lost on you - now is the fact that it was the marriage you were sold into that has provided such freedom. For more, you simply reach up to kiss him again. “Your happiness has always been of the utmost importance to me, and that has not changed.”

“You are happy?” His own eyes turn searching, wanting to make sure you are not merely putting on a show for him. He knows the intrigue of the prince, his magnetism is hard to deny, but he wants to make sure that you are truly happy.

"I am." You can feel the way it lightens you from the inside, your heart swelling in your chest with love and pride. The way that new love seems to make you stand taller and smile more easily just the way it had when you fell in love with Raeden. You put both hands on his chest and lean into his warmth, letting it envelope you. "I honestly think I may not ever become used to the title, but I am happy with this life."

“If anyone deserves the title of ‘Princess’ it is you, my love.” He reaches up and caresses your cheek. “You are kind and gentle, loyal and just. You were a princess to me before you married your husband.”

"I think perhaps you were a little biased, beloved." Still, it is relieving to have such a gentle moment with him, and teasing him does not keep you from savoring it as you nuzzle into his touch. "If it were not so important that we leave our rooms today, I might simply pull you into bed with me never to leave again."

“It is a shame.” Raeden groans quietly as he leans in and kisses your jaw. “I fear I have been negligent in making sure that you know that I still desire you so much I ache with it.”

“Stay with me tonight.” It’s almost a plea, as you tilt your head to let him touch and taste any part of you that he pleases. Every thought but him has left your mind completely.

A small fissure of something akin to fear races across Raeden’s face, almost imperceptible but he nods. “It might be late.” He warns you. “I know the council will want to convene after the first day.”

"I cannot find it in me to care," you admit, looking up at him with pleading eyes. "It will be a treasure to sleep against you and wake up beside you."

“Do not try to burn the candles and stay awake.” He urges you with a smile. “I shall sneak into your bed like a thief and pretend that I must keep you quiet.”

"It sounds far more appealing when it is a game, and not a matter of life or death against my parents' will." Something which had been the entire truth not too long ago. "Promise to wake me, my love. That is all I ask."

“Of course I will.” Despite his concerns, he craves the closeness of your body to his. The reassurance of your kisses and love. “Now we must hurry.”

******

There is nothing less desirable in the entire world than sitting through this trial, but you have not flinched all morning. Oberyn bid you to steel yourself and you have, sitting firm in your seat with Raeden beside you and envying Ellaria's ability to be absent from the proceedings. The only thing that saves you from complete and absolute misery is the call to break for the midday meal. When that break is agreed upon you squeeze Raeden's hand in yours and offer him a weak smile. "I think I need a walk," you murmur, knowing that the fresh air will do you a world of good as you make your way to the Citadel.

Raeden frowns and he bites his lip. “If you need to stray too far, go back and take Cal or Leyth with you.” He insists, wishing he could go himself, but he will be required to converse with Oberyn and stand by him in the talks that are inevitable to come.

"I will stay safe, I promise." The Citadel is not far, thankfully, and you can make the walk on your own. "Will you be alright with Oberyn while I walk?" Given that it was your husband's idea for you to journey out, you know he will not object, but you still want to make sure that Raeden is not too uncomfortable from the morning.

“Yes.” He frowns slightly. “I just wish you had someone with you.” He grumbles, having taken Oberyn’s warning about your safety seriously.

“Will it comfort you if I take Cal?” You will lose time because of it, but not much. His ability to trust you are safe and not be distracted with worry is more important.

His eyes slide past you to where Oberyn is beckoning him. “Does your husband know?” He asks and you nod, because he does know of your plan. “Then I trust his judgment. Go, my love and keep your dagger close.”

"I promise." With a nod and a reassuring smile, you head through the halls of the keep with a confident stride. There is only so much time before the trial will reconvene and you will be expected to return. You must make good use of your time.

______

Master Tags: @pixiedurango @chattychell @winter-fox-queen @lady-himbo @artsymaddie @princess76179 @paintballkid711 @missminkylove @pedrosbrat @ew-erin @sarahjkl82-blog @sharkbait77 @justanotherblonde23 @lv7867 @recklesswit @mylittlesenaar @f0rever15elf @gallowsjoker @steeevienicks @athalien @sherala007 @skvatnavle @thatpinkshirt @jaime1110 @girlimjusttryingtoreadfanfics @goodgriefitsawildworld @greeneyedblondie44 @katheriner1999 @littlemousedroid @harriedandharassed @churchill356 @ajathegreats-blog @haylzcyon @beardsanddetectives @kirsteng42 @ladykatakuri @adancedivasmom @madiebear @tanzthompson @emilianamason @bigsdinger @xocalliexo @pedr0swh0r3 @avaleineandafryingpan @charlyrmv @avidreader73 @iceclaw101 @loveslide @elegantduckturtle @becsworld @julesonrecord @its-nebuleuse @itsrubberbisquit

My Masterlist!

#Pedro Pascal #Pedro Pascal character fanfiction #Pedro Pascal fanfic #Oberyn Martell #Oberyn Martell x reader #Oberyn Martell x you #Oberyn Martell x female reader #Oberyn Martell x f!reader #Oberyn Martell x Ellaria Sand #Ellaria Sand x male OC #Ellaria Sand x female reader #Ellaria Sand #female reader x m!OC #female reader #male OC #Game of Thrones #soulmate au #polyamory #arranged marriage

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pensbridge · 8 months

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No matter what, fandom & the internet has a way of integrating toxicity into anything fun

If it's not:

— Thinking they have a right to the sexual orientation of actors as if the act of performing a story is "taking" jobs from the people not even present in the prospects of people in the room, it's

— Shipping actors and thinking that it is their job description to go beyond remaining cordial with their co-worker and doing the pre-assigned press by management/pr (if a joint interview is not required, it's not something that will be set up); also talking about your unabashed shipping w/o shame

— Harassing people's real life significant others or becoming obsessed with insignificant hate posts about them in their asks and analyzing an actor's actions, including the status of their friendships with co-workers// Parasocial relationships? They're weird

— Constant discourse for a fictional character or a ship as if it isn't possible to put your energy into something you actually like and remain quiet about something that brings you dissatisfaction (I don't participate with talk about parts I don't like; you can too)

— Writer hate (thousands upon thousands of shares in support for a strike have occurred, but people continuously take minor flaws as a means to be negative about the entire show (this is not about shows with terrible quality and endings; this is about shows that have a good run and ppl taking minor flaws to downvote the overall product)

— Furthermore, the minute a show drops the floods of negativity that await us (this is not representative of every piece of media out there; if it's bad, it's bad-you can tell the difference); but near-perfect shows, people just start looking for issues and drowning out any praise that lasted less than a day

— Any talk of appearance// Reducing people to their appearance. "Hot people," "hot guys depicting a gay relationship," men and your ideal within the female gaze/ your type of leading man, women and your over-critique of them. It's all such a shallow, reductive way to view humans beings

— Pitting actors/actresses against each other/ talking about who is better; and further spreading gross messages of hate in attempt of celebration/praise for the other person; idc anymore about doing this to characters, please these are real people!

— Any participation in the speculation of or jokes about an actor's life and perceived drama incl. edits and/or hateful commentary further spreading a message and perception to anyone that sees it, or

— Conspiracy theories, and seeking them out with every action, word, and gesture a person makes/says.

Please. Be more interesting.

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silvermaplealder · 1 year

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The lost boys are all at least some level of queer and not just because David's actively thirsting after Michael for the entire movie, but those boys are really physical with each other. I mean- they constantly be touching or standing really close to one another. And as a gay man who's lived in several conservative areas, let me tell ya, straight men don't like to stand that close to each other or be touched. It wasn't until I was around other queers that it was normal for a man to casually touch a man's shoulder, or put their hand on their back, etc. And hell yeah you share drinks from the same bottle, or share cigs and joints. I'd say this pack of vampires are at least all queer to some varying degrees. I'm not saying Marko's a sub for David but damn that boy definitely takes orders from David without hesitation.

So I've compiled some evidence for you to enjoy of the vampires being touch-y with one another in chronological order lol. Enjoy!

This one is very well known so of course I have to put it here. Right in the opening scene too:

And then there's this one. I actually almost missed this one, but if you look, either Dwayne or Paul has their hand on David's shoulder. Like there's no reason to? But he does it anyway:

And about two seconds later, Marko touches Dwayne's bicep. Terrible quality, sorry:

And another iconic photo, Paulie's hand on Dwayne's shoulder. Damn Dwayne's left shoulder gets more action than I do:

This one is really just a bonus of Paul standing really freaking close to David. I mean personal space, right? David's shoulder is practically in Paul's chest.

Now this one I find really fascinating. This is right after David gives Michael the joint, and the reason I find it interesting is because probably... ten-ish seconds before this David puts his hand on Michael's shoulder and Michael shoves it off. But this time he let's David do it. David stares at Michael a lot:

I'm going to say Paul doesn't give a crap about personal space because here he is in Michael's face after he pats him on the back:

Michael and Marko vibing:

I think this is such a cute one. Marko put his arm around Dwayne and Dwayne then returned it. So adorable! I had to edit it a little bit because it was very dark:

This next one is a small bonus, but just know that currently David has his arm around Michael (and I'll show that in the image after):

And then when the camera moves, you can see that David's arm is around Michael's back (you can see his wrist sticking out from his jacket just a bit. As he moves to face Michael you can see his hand move to Michael's shoulder):

And y'all know that after Michael falls from the bridge he's caught by David.

I left out some smaller things such as Paul playfully shoving Marko when getting on his bike and the kicking during the bridge scene. But I rest my case. These boys don't mind physical touch between each other, and even actively seek it out. Which, with 4 men living and sleeping together and being very co dependent, it just screams queer all over the place. Even in the book it mentions that the cave is larger and has other tunnels, but yet they'd all rather sleep together 🥺 ALSO just gonna point out that when David turns people, he makes them drink his blood, but at the end of the movie Max just goes to bite Lucy? Unless that's a perk that only the head vampire has, seems a little sus that David wants everyone to swallow his fluids

#tlb 1987 #lost boys #the lost boys #the lost boys 1987 #tlb david #vampires #dwayne tlb #tlb #marko tlb #tlb paul

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hash-driveway · 3 months

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The Hurt/Comfort Alphabet (Julian x Reader edition)

prompt created by: @thathcwriter

this ended up being a bit more esoteric than the prompt may have intended. these are so fun!

A: Alleviate - How do they go about relieving persistent physical pain?

Julian would offer you a massage if you were feeling sore, since he'd usually notice your demeanor changing when you're in pain. If you suffer from chronic pain, he'd do his best to make sure you were comfortable when he could. He'd roll you joints and smoke with you.

However, if he is the one in pain, the situation is different. He tries his best to be the strong, silent type, but his guard comes down with you. He'd try to ignore it at first, but eventually you'd ask him if he needed to be taken care of, and he'd crack. While he would be hesitant to admit it, he loves it when you take care of him.

B: Bedridden - How do they behave when they’re sick?

Julian tries to push through sickness as much as he can, which ends in him feeling worse and needing to take it easy for a few days. He doesn't mind though, since the two of you can hunker down and watch movies on the couch whenever you please.

C: Cling - Whose physical touch is considered most welcome in their minds when they are in need? Is there a specific type of touch they respond well to?

When he's stressed, a comforting rub on his back from you is all that he needs. When Julian is upset, anxious, or triggered, your warm embrace calms him down. He has abandonment issues because of his father, so he definitely needs your reassurance when he's feeling bad. He'll wrap his big arms around you and squeeze, like he can't get you close enough.

D: Deathbed - How would they react if they realized they may not recover from their injuries?

He's been shot more than he cares for, but there has only been a few times where his injuries were extreme. When it dawned on him that he might be really fucked up from the wound, he panicked. This couldn't be happening, not now, not before he retired and started a family with you. Not before he gave you the life you deserved.

E: Emergency - What is their gut reaction when someone they care about is hurt?

Rage. He'll see red if you're ever hurt by someone, and do anything it takes to protect you. Then, guilt. There must have been something that he could have done to keep this from happening.

F: Fight - Are there circumstances under which they would not accept treatment or care? If so, what are they?

If he spirals into his guilt, it can be hard for him to accept affection or reassurance. This is tricky because he could end up snapping at you. Miscommunication often leads to arguments, but they usually end up being resolved with the two of you promising to be better.

G: Ghosts - How has their past shaped the kind of comfort they respond to best?

Julian's love language is Words of Affirmation, because they are what he never got from his father. He responds best to you reassuring him when he is feeling stressed. He highly values communication.

H: Home - What things (objects, sensations or people) remind them they’re safe after a scary situation?

If he doesn't have either you or a rum and coke in his hand, he could go crazy.

I: Isolation - How do they soothe themselves when no one is around to soothe them?

He needs time alone. The chaos and noise of the trailer park gets to him sometimes, so he'll find an excuse to retreat to his trailer and try to calm himself down.

J: Joy - When was the first time they were truly happy after going through something terrible?

Julian met you after a rough patch of failed schemes and mounting legal trouble, which stressed him to no end. Meeting you on that day was so unexpected, yet so perfect, that he found himself forgetting all of his troubles after seeing you for the first time.

K: Kindness - Do they believe they deserve the comfort they receive? Why or why not?

Not usually. It takes a while for him to get used to you showing him genuine kindness.

L: Levity - What or who helps them take their mind off of the circumstances?

Julian has a self-help book for most situations. He goes to them when he feels uncertain, often looking for answers to questions that he doesn't even know how to ask. The endless digging usually ends up calming him down regardless.

M: Music - Is there a song that comforts them? Why is it comforting to them?

"Hey, ain't life wonderful?" -- I feel like this song would make him feel seen.

N: Nostalgia - What things that comforted them as a kid still work today? Does anyone know that?

It's no secret that his grandmother is who introduced him to the comforts of rum, but sometimes what he really needs is a quiet night with a blanket and a good book.

O: Overworked - Who or what tells them to stop working and take care of themselves?

You're the only person that he will actually listen to when you tell him to take a breather. Whenever anyone else tries to get him to see reason, he brushes them off, thinking that they have no idea what he can (or cannot) handle. You're different, though. He's never allowed himself to be known by anyone on the level that you do.

P: Please - Have they ever begged for someone to comfort or stay with them? What was that incident like?

Not really. He's the type of person to let someone leave if they want to, but there’s no doubt that he’ll fight for you. He'll definitely ask for comfort if he needs it, but only if he feels comfortable enough with the person to do so.

Q: Questions - Are they eager to talk about what or why they’re hurting? Why or why not?

At first, he is hesitant because he is so used to playing the role of the strong one, the protector of the park. But once he allows his walls to come down, he becomes an open book.

R: Relief - How do they react to the realization that they will soon be fully recovered?

I don't want to do this one. so i'm not going to. lol

S: Scared - What would it take for them to admit that they’re scared?

It would take a situation that could shake him to his core in order for him to admit that he's scared. Julian is tough, and can handle a lot, but there are a few things that he can break his composure. He has anxiety about money, of course. Being able to live the life that he wants, to be able to retire and live a peaceful, quiet life in Sunnyvale without having to worry about being locked up ever again. When that goal is threatened, he'll eventually admit his fear.

T: Time - How long does it take for them to feel better after an ordeal or illness? Do they tend to lie about how soon they feel better?

Julian knows how important rest is, especially if he is physically hurt. He'll do as much as he can to take the time to recover, but the needs of the people around him do tend to get in the way sometimes. In that case, he'll lie to avoid people worrying about him.

U: Ugly - What part of their recovery process are they ashamed of, if any?

When he's in pain, he can get snippy and aggravated. He also relies on drinking more than usual during these times, so that can become an issue.

V: Valiant - Has anyone told them they were brave for facing what they did? How would they react if someone did?

No. If you ever told him that, he would most likely brush it off, but it would be emotionally overwhelming for him. Nobody really shows him much appreciation.

W: Why? - How did they process what happened to them?

He journals. It’s his private haven to write down his thoughts without feeling any pressure.

X: Xenas - Do they see anyone as an inspiration in their recovery? Does their inspiration know about this?

His grandmother definitely saved him from his father's wrath. Her headstrong attitude inspires him to be who he is.

Y: Yearn - What gesture, person or thing do they desperately want, but would never actually ask for?

He really, really, really wants to get married. Have a kid or two, and just live a normal life. Be a good dad. He doesn't know how to ask for this. He doesn't think he's good enough for it.

Z: Zero - What is the best way to comfort them without touching them?

Sometimes he just needs you by his side, silently supporting him by simply being present in his life. He values consistency, craves it, since he doesn't see it anywhere else except in his relationship with you.

#tpb #tpb x reader #trailer park boys #trailer park boys selfship #trailer park boys x reader #trailer park boys fanfiction #julian tpb #julian x reader #julian tpb x reader #tpb julian #mwrites

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sugalaritae · 11 months

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take two (ot7)

summary: It has been the absolute-no-good-terrible-fucking-shit-bitch-cock-sucking week from hell and all you want to do is be alone. That's what you want. Right?

pairing: ot7 + gn reader friendship (a little hit at maybe yoongi x reader)

genre: a little angst. a lot of fluff

au: slice of life, non!idol

rating: 18+

word count: 1530

warnings: swearing and the mention of needing to smoke a joint. reader's mental health is not great, self-loathing, negative thoughts, loneliness. but don't worry the guys are there to comfort them.

author’s note: i was not having a good night tonight. locked in my loneliness and listening to 'take two' (how fucking good is that song?!) and i decided i need to let out all my feelings into a fic. plus, i've wanted to write a little ot7 + reader fic for festa!! this is only very lightly edited. i love you all and i hope you're having a good month. happy 10 years to this glorious band of men whom i love so very much and thank you!!

It has been the absolute-no-good-terrible-fucking-shit-bitch-cock-sucking week from hell and all you want to do is down a very large glass of cold water, shower in scalding hot water for perhaps too long, get dressed in your rattiest holiest (and comfiest) pair of sweatpants the baggy bambie tshirt you got from the discount racks at H&M, curl up on your bed, and smoke a joint before you fall asleep.

Hopefully your neighbours won’t complain about the smell but quite frankly you don’t give a crap if they do. If anything else goes wrong then it will just be par for the shitty course. And you can blame it on Hoseok and Yoongi like you did last time. Though, the last time was their fault but that is neither here nor there.

Your phone buzzes in your pocket. You ignore it. You know it’s going to be Jimin or Namjoon asking if you’re okay. Again. You had needed a break from the group chat and apparently that was “concerning behaviour” (Jimin) and was worth a “check-in because everyone has bad weeks but you don’t need to lock yourself away” (Namjoon). The thing is that you are sure you do want to lock yourself away. The last few days of work stress which, of course, was accompanied by existential dread and wondering if this really was your choice in life or if you had fallen into this career path because of capitalism, or, if maybe, this was just okay because you could at least afford to pay for the thing you did love doing; your nephew’s birthday party was coming up, add onto that with the fact that your parents were aging far too quickly for your liking, and you were suddenly carrying a dark cloud on your shoulders that seemed to be made of nothing but negativity and you wanted to lock yourself away from everything.

You wanted to give into the doubt and self-hatred that had taken advantage of all the self-care doors you had forgotten to close during the week and let yourself fall into the belief that all of your friendships, no matter how small, hated you.

So, yeah, you were going to ignore Namjoon and Jimin’s concerned text messages and you were going to fall asleep alone and wake up to hopefully a better day with less everything but more croissants and coffee.

You felt bad for the ignoring and you knew that maybe you should let them reassure you that you were doing okay but hadn’t your therapist told you that self-assurance was more important than reaching out for reassurance? (She had also said that it was okay to reach out but you were ignoring that.)

You tapped your earbuds three times and skipped past the next several songs until you heard the familiar notes of a song that Yoongi had sent you just the other day with a text that had read: heard this and thought of you. You leaned your head back against the bus window and closed your eyes, hands wrapped tightly around the backpack on your lap as you let the music and the voice of the singer invade your head, swirling around and turning the volume of the lyrics on high until they drowned out all the evil words of the negative voices.

You wonder, for the seventh time this week, why Yoongi thought of you. The two of you haven’t seen each other in person and you’ve not had the energy or nerves to text him asking why he thought of you while he listened to that song, but you have a mental post-it note to do so when your head is a little less foggy.

Spotify selects the next song for you and the familiar strum of guitar starts. It’s a song you’ve listened to many times but suddenly the lyrics are for you. Written for you and your week. You try your best to stop the tears, wishing them back into your body, but they don’t listen and instead they fall slowly down your cheeks as you bend your head and bring the backpack closer to your face so you can cry quietly into the waxed canvas.

Ten minutes later, a little embarrassment from standing up with red eyes and wet cheeks as you walked down the aisle of the bus to the door, a little forced pride still lingering as you pretend that you hadn’t just been crying on the bus, you walk up the stairs to your apartment. Your key sticks, as it always does, and you take a breath because you’ve already cried once in a public space and you’re definitely not going to be caught by the Ajumma who lives two doors down, because she will definitely ask you a million questions and you want to be left alone.

That’s what you want, right? A soft voice asks somewhere deep in the recesses of your brain. Trying to grab your attention amidst the sadness.

Finally the lock works and you open the door to seven pairs of shoes that are chaotically paired in your entrance. Your heart skips a little as you hesitantly take out your earbuds and the sounds filling your apartment hit you like a wave.

There is music playing (jazz? Laufey maybe? It sounds like Laufey…), Taehyung’s deep voice singing along, the stove fan, what sounds like a metal utensil hitting a metal bowl in fast succession, and Hoseok’s loud wonderful laugh floating above it all.

Toeing off your shoes and quietly setting down your backpack you walk gingerly down the short hall and around the wall into your kitchen. They must not have heard you struggle with the lock because they’re all busy and in their own worlds. Seokjin is throwing a small strand of spaghetti at the wall and watching it stick, Jungkook is mixing something that looks an awful lot like whipped cream with a whisk and not with your hand-mixer, Yoongi stands over the stove with chopsticks in hand staring down at the contents in your cast iron pan (a sauce of some kind), Namjoon and Taehyung are dancing together in your living room (some horrible version of the waltz), while Hoseok and Jimin are huddled over what looks like a small cake.

Jungkook is the first one to notice you as he releases the whisk and massages his arm, face curled up in a wince. That is until he notices you and his fingers still.

“You’re here!” he says with a smile before he looks around at the rest of the guys.

“I live here.”

Slowly, one-by-one the men glance up from their tasks and give you bright smiles.

“Taehyung-ah!” Yoongi calls, “turn down the music. They’re here!”

The music quiets and you give Namjoon and Taehyung a small wave, slowly turning to the rest of the kitchen.

“What’s going on?” you ask.

A smile threatens the corners of Yoongi’s lips as Jimin answers, “we’re here to make your week better.” There’s concern written on Jimin’s brow and your heart threatens to weep at that.

“That’s…that’s not your-” you start because it isn’t their job and they need to be reminded of this in case they’re doing this out of some sort of weird obligation to you and your sad brain.

“No, but we wanted to,” Namjoon says softly as he leans against the doorframe, arms crossing in front of him and you start to feel a warmth slowly start to slip through your chest. The clouds in your head parting just a little. “We’re happy to.”

“Oh.”

“Now, go and change while we finish up,” Seokjin says commandingly, pulling a smile across your face as you nod.

“Yes, sir.”

You turn to start your walk to your bathroom before you pause and look at Jungkook.

“There’s a hand mixer in the bottom drawer beside the sink,” you say with a pointed finger.

Hoseok’s laugh erupts filling the room and your smile spreads to a grin as you see Jungkook’s eyes go wide as he explodes “HYUNG! You said you didn’t see one!”

Yoongi shrugs and gives you a wink, a soft smirk tugging up into his cheeks, before he turns back to the sauce in front of him.

Forty-five minutes later you’re curled up on your couch, full of pasta and cake. The warmth of Yoongi’s sweater under your cheek, Jungkook resting his head against your knee as he sits on the floor with Jimin, Taehyung, and Hobi. Namjoon has his arm around Yoongi’s shoulders with his hand resting on the top of your head like a comforting weight. Seokjin sits in a chair beside the couch watching the rather horrible and wonderful drama that everyone is watching.

You’re not alone. Your friends love you.

The negative voices lied.

“Hey,” you whisper and you can feel Yoongi shift a little to look at you.

“Hmm?”

“Thanks for the song.”

You can’t see it but you know that he’s smiling that soft and kind smile he gets when he’s done something right.

“Of course. I’ll send you more.”

The negative voices lied.

This is better than being alone.

You’re not alone and your friends love you.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

author's note pt2: thank you for reading!!! in my head the song that yoongi sent to the reader was 'mama saturn' by tanerélle. fill in any song for the second one that spoke to the reader. remember that the negative voices lie to you.

#bts fic #bts fanfic #ot7 fic #ot7 x reader #min yoongi x reader #suga x reader

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obxone · 1 year

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A Little Game (Part Two)

edited-ish. ~1.5k words.

(Part One)

“What are you doing?” You giggle, lowering the can of beer to keep yourself from choking on the last of your drink as John B wiggles his butt off rhythm to the beat pouring from Kiara’s Bluetooth speaker.

JJ’s arm snakes around your waist, and you lean into him, laughing harder as John B wiggles his hips even more intensely. You grin at JJ when his contagious laughter erupts over his best friend’s very bad dancing.

“Someone help him,” you giggle.

“Bro!” Pope groans, catching on to what John B is doing. He laughs, shaking his head when John B straightens up and winks at you all with a ‘you’re welcome’ following it.

“Here,” JJ’s lips brush your ear as he talks to you, a joint offered out. You take it from him and take a hit before offering it back. He grins, lips nearing your ear again. “That’s my girl.”

“Quit flirting with me, Jay,” you say after blowing out the smoke. “You already got a point today.”

“Can’t help it.”

Kiara giggles, her high hitting her when she hears JJ still messing with you. You laugh at her before leaning into him more. “You are goofy.”

“I’m not,” he mutters, nose brushing your jaw.

“JJ,” you warn.

“Yes?”

You roll your eyes and pull away from him. You glance back over your shoulder, catching those brilliant blue eyes running the length of you.

“I saw that!” You spin back around to point at him. “You just checked me out.”

He laughs around a sip of his beer. “So?”

“JJ! No pogue on pogue macking!” Kiara yells, and you laugh, patting her shoulder before grabbing a fresh beer out of the cooler by Pope’s feet.

“This…” Sarah gestures between you two from her lounger. “Is inevitable.”

“Definitely not,” you mutter while moving to take John B’s seat beside Sarah, but he is quicker and slides into the space. A knowing grin on his face. “John B!”

“Got to support my boy.”

“Great,” you roll your eyes and turn to Kiara with a pout. “Kie? Please?”

She shakes her head in annoyance but moves over, allowing you to sit in her seat with her becoming a barrier between JJ and you. You curl up in her chair and take a sip of your beer, a sigh of happiness leaving you. Sarah grins at you before her gaze drifts to JJ. You follow her to see him watching you, a frown on that handsome face of his.

“Quit pouting,” you mutter before taking another drink. “It’s 4 to 4. You’ve tied it, let that be it tonight, please.”

Kiara nudges you with her elbow. “Do you think you are going to lose?”

“Not happening.” You shake your head aggressively, and Sarah giggles. “I’m not doing his homework for a full semester.”

“That was our terms, Baby,” JJ says as he gets to his feet before approaching from behind you. The last of the joint held out. You take it before handing him your half empty beer.

“Take it, I’m tapping out,” you tip your head back to look at him. He does without a word as you take a hit off the joint before exhaling the smoke a moment later and sinking back into the chair. “Kie?”

“I was thinking of staying…” she fades out, and you do not miss the side eye she gives Pope, who smiles, looking at the ground. “You can take my car if you need to go home.”

“I can stay,” you muse. “Dibs on the sofa bed then.”

Kiara gapes at you, and you wink at her. John B laughs, and that causes everyone else to erupt into laughter of their own.

“I’ll take the other side of the sofa bed,” JJ offers. “You can have the bedroom tonight with Pope.”

“What?” Pope’s head jerks up, and you bite your lip, hiding the knowing smile on your face. Kiara’s head whips to look at you and then at him, but you stare at your feet.

“Come on, man, we all know!”

“Know what?” Kiara looks confused.

“You guys are terrible liars!” You laugh, and her cheeks flame a little before she turns to Pope, who is staring at you in shock.

Sarah is almost falling out of her chair in laughter at their lame attempt to play it off and you calling them out.

“You know what, fine,” Kiara stands and takes the last of the joint from you before moving to sit in JJ’s seat next to Pope. “JJ, you can have your girlfriend back.”

“Kiara!” You admonish, but she shrugs, taking the final hit before winking at you. JJ plops into the chair next to you. He is too smooth for his own good as he hooks his foot around the leg of your chair and pulls you closer. You look away, blushing at the proximity of him again. “Jay…” You sigh, but he shows no shame as he reaches over, hooking his finger under your chin, and turns your face to his.

“They know about us too, Baby.”

You laugh before shoving his hand away. “Quit playing. There is no us.”

He frowns. “Liar.”

“Inevitable,” Sarah sing songs, and you throw a glare at her, which only makes her laugh before she shakes her head. “Accept it, Babe.”

“You are supposed to be on my side!” You gesture wildly, but she shrugs dismissively. His arm falls across the back of your chair.

“Is that a point for me, Baby?”

“Not even close,” you mutter, glaring at your friends, who all look anywhere but at you. “The night isn’t over yet.”

“It will be for me soon.” John B stretches, groaning, and you roll your eyes.

“Me too,” Sarah says with a yawn before getting to her feet. She tries to be coy as she winks at JJ, but you see it.

“Sarah Cameron!”

She laughs, stretching out her hand for John B to take, and he clasps it, letting her haul him to his feet. Pope and Kiara do not hide their shared thoughts as they get to their feet, stretching and groaning.

JJ smirks, not moving an inch as they all head for the Chateau. You groan, closing your eyes for a moment, before opening them to see JJ watching you. A teasing tilt of a smile on his lips.

“You are enjoying this way too much.”

He laughs. “I can’t help that I convinced them to join my team.”

“I don’t know how you did it,” you mutter and start to rise from your chair. “Bedtime I guess.” You offer out your hand to help him up, and you expect him to take it, but instead, his fingers enclose your wrist, and he pulls you down onto his lap.

“I don’t want the go to bed yet, Baby,” he says, his voice low as he drags his hand up your arm to your shoulder and then your neck. “I have what I want right here.”

“Jay,” you sigh and turn your head away as you begin to remove yourself from his lap, but he tightens his hold and uses his thumb to guide your chin so that you are looking at him again.

“I want you, and not because of this game.”

“JJ.”

A sigh leaves him, and his fingers tangle in your hair. “Look at me and tell me you don’t.”

“Of course I do.”

He grins, his trademark dimple revealing itself. “Then why not?”

“Because of the rule.”

“Sarah and John B are breaking the rule. Pope and Kie…”

You huff, pressing your forehead against his shoulder while you play with his free hand. “I’m scared, Jay.”

He frowns, pressing his lips to your ear. “I’ve got you, Sweetheart.”

You inhale before lifting your head to look at him. “I don’t-”

“Just give me a chance, please,” he murmurs. “One chance.”

You exhale before nudging your face closer to his. “Okay, one chance.”

“Yeah?” He asks a hint of excitement in his tone.

“Yes.”

“Fucking finally, Baby!” His lips are on yours. You kiss him back, hand tangling in his shirt in an attempt to anchor yourself as you are sure you will float away. Cheers erupt from the screened in porch behind you, and you end the kiss to look over your shoulder as Sarah whoops in encouragement while Kiara cheers and claps her hand. Both John B and Pope are hollering and waving their arms around. You laugh and turn back to JJ.

“Does this mean I win?” He asks.

“No,” you laugh, playing with his blond locks. “It is a draw.”

He smirks, before shrugging. “I’ll cheat off your homework then.”

You laugh before pecking his lips. “I’ll tutor you. And for every A you get, then you get a kiss. It’ll be round two of our little game.”

In true JJ fashion, his face lights up like a Christmas tree, and he agrees, proud of the new game in place.

#outer banks #obx #jj maybank #jj maybank x you #jj maybank x reader

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ecoamerica · 2 months

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youtube

Watch the American Climate Leadership Awards 2024 now: https://youtu.be/bWiW4Rp8vF0?feature=shared

The American Climate Leadership Awards 2024 broadcast recording is now available on ecoAmerica's YouTube channel for viewers to be inspired by active climate leaders. Watch to find out which finalist received the $50,000 grand prize! Hosted by Vanessa Hauc and featuring Bill McKibben and Katharine Hayhoe!

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givemea-dam-break · 4 months

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babes is back

hello my lovies!!!!!!

i am back!!!! much to your pleasure and simultaneous screaming because yes, if i am back, the fics will be back. and they will be painful.

i thought i’d give you guys a little explanation as to why i kind of randomly stopped coming on tumblr despite my reappearances in december, which were because the lovely @neewtmas had her 12 days of christmas (FIND THAT HERE) and we’re online friends in real life (if that makes any sense at all) and i wanted to support her!!!! my wife!!!!

under the cut below is my little rundown, under a cut simply because i don’t want to take up a million scrolls of your dash if you don’t want to read my reasonings or you are just happy i am back (i luv u)

i have felt terrible since becoming inactive on tumblr since i made so many friends and had so so so many people supporting not only my fanfictions but the edits i also started making, so this is also kind of like my apology to you guys because i went so unexpectedly and without any explanation. so if you want to keep reading, then keep reading!

BOO

scary cut. i know. it’s ok. i am here to protect u.

anyways, like i said, my inactivity on tumblr was a completely out of the blue thing that even i didn’t expect. one day, i just found myself unable to go on the app out of pure dread which i had never felt because it was one of my faves.

and not dread because of anything that had happened here per se, just because my life had been becoming a bit of a mess.

that goes way back, but the crux of it was when me and my boyfriend of 4 years (who i had been staying with after my mum moved away) broke up

i won’t get into details about the breakup itself for both my privacy and his (very unique instances caused it), but basically it got worse and worse, and by october time it was getting to a point where i wasn’t feeling right at all. he was messaging me all the time, begging to get back together, the usual, but he was always wanting to come see me at my dads and for SOME REASON felt as though he had some entitlement to meet my new cats aka my little babies. he was saying creepy things to me (that he didn’t mean as creepy) and by november i blocked him.

i wasn’t feeling safe physically, worried i’d see him on my walks home from the shop in a different town that he comes to often to hang out in with his best friend, but also mentally. i wasn’t in a good mental space at all. i was scared. i was confused. he had pushed all of the blame of the breakup onto me. i was working 35 hours a week while being a student (still am) and my brain had no time for anything but work, studying, and worrying.

tumblr isn’t my job, but the pure guilt i felt when i deleted the app hit me like a tonne of bricks. i felt terrible. one of the only things that gave me solace was something i couldn’t bring myself to go on to. i couldn’t bring myself to write the requests i had piling in, ones i still have huge guilt for never getting around to writing. i couldn’t bring myself to keep answering messages or reblogging things because i didn’t have it in me. i didn’t even write at all october-november because i just had nothing in me, which is so so unlike me.

one thing that did keep me going though, was my emails. “eden ew ur job alert emails? ur period tracker app trying to get u onto premium? the emails from the joint account u had with ur ex for his music career that went kasplut?” no silly. maybe the job alerts - my job has too much drama.

no. 15 year old eden logging back into tumblr and setting email notifs on for comments, tags, and inbox was perhaps the smartest thing she did, and she got all A’s in her exams.

every now and then, i’d get a little tumblr notification. one of those “put this in the inbox of one of your favourite blogs blah blah blah” i luv em. can never get myself to do them because of the 13 year old in me screaming to never do chain mail again after carmen winstead and her creepy voicenote. but i love them, and i appreciate every single person who sent me one.

i could see people commenting on my fics, and absolutely loving them. i could see what my mutuals tagged me in, even if i wasn’t able to react to them.

it gave me peace of mind to keep going with my life while still being able to cling onto the happiness this site brings me while not actually accessing it.

i will always be sorry that i left so suddenly, but it was a spur of the moment thing and something i couldn't even explain myself.

i'm back now, but i likely won't be as active as i used to be. i'm prioritising work and my studies as much as i can while still finding time to write. this being said, i can't promise that all requests sent to my inbox/messages will be answered. part of my leaving was being so overwhelmed by them all (and i thank you all for choosing me to requests fics from, it means a lot!) so if your request doesn't get answered, i truly am sorry and it isn't anything personal! maybe I'll get around to it in the future, but for now i want to bring the joy back to writing for me so i will not be overloading myself like i used to!

i hope you can all understand, and know i love you all so, so dearly! i wouldn't have the friends i do or be where i am in life without all of you!

love u all lots lovies <3

-ur favourite person ever ever ever, eden MWAH

#givemea-dam-break #if you read the whole of this whopper i luv u #if you did not read the whopper i still luv u

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itsahotminuteinbetween · 10 months

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Back again I have another chapter I'm flingin it at you. I'm too tired to really explain much of it but if you have a question you're welcome to shoot me an ask abt it and stuff.

Okay Imma take a nap here wake me up when it's over. @itsberrydreemurstuff and @laegume, saved ya'll a seat in the front row. I'll edit this to put the other chapters in at some other point, but for now...

On with the show!

(Word Count: 1,302)

Moon watched over his charges, running his hands through the hair of the child in his lap. She was a new one, loud, too. She’d burst in with her brother while they were occupied in their room. They’d heard you enter this morning and remained upstairs, both hoping to delay interaction with you and seeing the current task as far more important.

(Said task was to make sure their joints wouldn’t randomly lock up throughout the day. Those had gotten to be a problem as of late, but they weren’t going to tell you that.)

You’d asked about it afterwards. Sun let it be known that their business was their own. Damn company wouldn’t even give them a moment to themselves without sending their rat after them.

Said rat currently sat at the desk, slouched over with their head down. Moon took it upon himself to investigate, silently making his way over and dropping down in front of you, hands slowly reaching for your chair to yank you forward…

Faint snoring.

Moon froze.

That couldn’t be right. You never slept in the Daycare, you never even took a lunch break off. And here you were, apparently tired enough to have gone down for the count like the kids. They’d never seen you so…vulnerable.

A terrible decision on your part, really.

His hands changed trajectory, instead grabbing your bag and conducting a short ‘inspection’.

The contents of your bag was different this time. No headphones, no little snacks. You’d brought another book today, and an old one by the looks of it. He flipped through it before dumping it back in. Not terribly interesting.

You’d brought your laptop as well, not an uncommon occurrence. He rummaged deeper for something new, something he could actually punish you for.

Like the bottle of pills he found innocently placed inside one of the pockets.

That was not what he was expecting.

He examined it, glancing over to you. You? Taking medications?

Focusing back on the curious object in his hand, he quickly scanned his database to identify it.

Hm. Tylenol. Commonly used to treat moderate pain.

Sun butt in with a suggestion. Maybe it’s that person they were calling yesterday?

No, Moon replied. They said they would drop it off that night. And it wasn’t for the children, since Management supplied and refilled the Daycare’s medicinal aid.

Maybe they’re sick?

Moon rolled his eyes. I’ll check. He scanned you and huffed at the results. You seemed mostly fine, save for a small cold and your visual stress levels. Hardly dire enough to take medicine. How weak humans were.

Dropping the pill bottle back into your bag, he set his eyes back on his original goal and devised the perfect means of torture.

A couple markers and googly eyes later, Moon gazed down at the finished product, snickering quietly. While not the most devious nor mature plot, it would most definitely be a cause for some mild embarrassment. He procured your phone from your pocket and snapped a photo of it, commemorating the moment forever.

Satisfied with his work, Moon took his leave and returned to the children.

Lights on, Sun out. Playtime resumed as always, though he noticed you weren’t present for it. He looked around before finding you still asleep at the desk.

Of course. This is why management relied on machines. He never got tired, he performed at maximum capacity 24/7, 365! He could be depended on to get results!

He didn’t fall asleep during a shift.

Sun’s gaze flickered back to you. He supposed he would have to wake you up, since you had made no move to do it yourself. Citing a short excuse to the already-occupied children, he approached the desk, taking notice of your face and stifling his mechanical laughter.

Well.

Moon had certainly been decorative.

He’d let you find out about that, though; he didn’t want to spoil Moon’s trick.

He carefully reached his hand out to tap you on the shoulder, already having a sharp remark at the tip of his metaphorical tongue.

He didn’t get the chance to so much as nudge you before you pop your eyes open and rear back, panic flashing across your face momentarily before it was overtaken with relief. Your shoulders dropped slightly, though you kept that tense aura about you, eyes wide and cheeks soon flushed in embarrassment as you processed the situation. You shrunk under his gaze, a tight smile appearing on your otherwise mortified expression. “Ah…Did I…”

“Rise and shine, sleepyhead!” Sun exclaimed with false cheer. “If you’re quite finished with your little impromptu nap, you have an actual job to get back to!”

Your cheeks burned brighter and you nodded, pointedly not looking at him. “R-right, I’ll get back to work, sorry…” You stood up from the chair, arms pinned tightly at your sides and wrapped around your chest. You kept repeating whispered apologies, shrinking in on yourself until you cut yourself off tersely, “I’m sorry, I…I think I just need a minute.” you said thickly, excusing yourself.

He blinked. That was new. He was sure if he’d said one word more to you, you likely would’ve shattered beneath him. You looked almost on the verge of tears. Sure, he’d caught glimpses of you when you were worked up, but you always seemed fine

A cackle in the back of his head snapped him out of his thoughts.

Quite the reaction that was. They look like they’d break if you so much as looked at them. What did you do to trigger that, eh, Sunny?

I don’t know, Moon, he responded. I don’t know.

Well, whatever it was, it worked. I’ve hardly ever seen them like that before.

Sun hadn’t either.

Moon perked and paused, an idea forming. Saaay…maybe that’s how we’ll get them.

What do you mean? Nothing works with them-

Maybe not, but maybe we’re not pushing hard enough. Maybe they need more pressure before they crack. We have to hit them where it hurts.

Sun’s rays retracted an inch, knowing he'd have gone paler if he were human. Moon…

What? Moon countered. You want them gone, just like I do. Nothing else is working. We can’t off them with Management watching us like harpies, and intimidation does nothing. Think about it. If they don’t want to work with us, if it’s too unbearable, they’ll quit. They’re too chicken to file a report about it, they don’t like making a scene.

I suppose…Still, he hesitated, though he didn’t know why. He did want you gone from his Daycare, out of his rays and out of his way. Even so…

The lunar animatronic sighed. Fine, I’ll do it myself.

And with that, the link shut.

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

You splash your face with water, scrubbing away the remnants of marker scribbles and tear tracks. You rub your red-rimmed eyes and take a shaky breath, trying to will away the fresh tears that threatened to spill.

You were an adult, damn it, you shouldn’t be crying in the bathroom over the words of your robotic jester coworker. It shouldn’t have been such a big deal, anyway. All he told you was to get back to work, it was nothing serious and he had full right to do so.

Why did you have to overreact over nothing every time this happened?

You calmed down enough to pull yourself together and at least pretend to be normal for a few more hours. You could sob into a pillow at home, but you were at work and it was not the time to act pathetic.

You berate yourself a little longer before composing yourself once more with a carefully set expression that did not coincide with how you felt at all.

Brave face on, you step back into the Daycare.

Two hours left…

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

Aaaand that's a wrap! Sorry it was a bit short this time, I had to do a lot of editing. I'll prob release chapter 6 a couple days from now cuz I'm lazy.

#sorry to bother #don't mind me #fnaf moon x reader #fnaf moondrop x reader #fnaf moon x y/n #fnaf sun x reader #fnaf sundrop x reader #fnaf sun x y/n #Where the Stars Don’t Shine

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creative-kny-fics · 15 days

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The premiere is already so close that I can almost feel it 🥹 (it's the same post, I just edited it so you guys have the translation)

Mitsuri: Come on, everyone! Are you ready?!

~Kanroji Residence (Flexibility training by Mitsuri Kanroji)~

Tanjiro: Yes!

*Music: Become the wind, be free and gentle. Pliable as noodle, chewy as sakura mochi*

Tanjiro: I can't keep up!

Zenitsu: Please! Show us how to do it!

Mitsuri: Well, it can't be helped...

Mitsuri: Well, then. I'll try, so watch carefully

Mitsuri: Eh? IGURO-SAN?!

Iguro: *by chance he was passing by* I brought you a gift

Mitsuri: My favorites!

Iguro: Please go eat this and have a cup of tea. I'll take care of your training

Inosuke: Hey! I'm better than you!

Iguro: I too can bend my joints like Kanroji

Iguro: You, there! Kamado, a step forward

Tanjiro: Me?

Iguro: I have a special training for you. Don't worry, I still won't kill you

Tanjiro: Hey? What did I do?

Tanjiro: What's that weird way of bending?!

Iguro: Dodge the sword! While you dance you must avoid my attacks, to train your muscles and improve your flexibility (STAY AWAY FROM KANROJI! Or you'll die)

Tanjiro: (It's crazy) Iguro has a terrible smell, I smell his anger. Why is he so angry with me?

Zenitsu: If you're going to replace Miss Kanroji, you should wear the proper outfit

Genya: That way we would follow him better

Iguro: I agree

(Iguro looks beautiful 😭🙏🏼)

Mitsuri: Iguro-San is strong, elegant and wonderful! I love it! Look at the softness of his body, it doesn't compare to anything

Mitsuri: Let's go down!

Iguro: I... Kanroji... It was too much training

Mitsuri: Iguro-San! Are you okay?!

Iguro: I love you...

Mitsuri: Mr. Obanai?

Mitsuri: What's wrong? Is something wrong?

Iguro: No, nothing, I was just thinking about something... Something that happened a long time ago when we were pillars

Mitsuri: Pillars? Ah, yes! I remember when the training was! Mr. Obanai was also there and then we all ate together

Iguro: It was by no means fun

Mitsuri: Iguro-San, calm down!

Mitsuri: I have to make more pancakes

Iguro: You don't have to

Mitsuri: Eh?

Iguro: Mitsuri's pancakes are special, but Mitsuri is even more so...

Iguro: Because she's mine

Sanemi: IGURO! STOP WASTING TIME, WE'RE ON A MISSION! CONCENTRATE!! Who do you choose?! Your friend or your wife?!

Iguro: Those days are over, I want to be with my wife

They're so cute 😭❤️ (poor Sanemi JAJAJAJAJAJA)

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lets-try-some-writing · 2 years

Note

Hello, I just found you and I LOVE your blog. Do you got any headcanons kicking around in that wonderful brain of yours for any of the Decepticons? Anything at all is fine

I actually do have some fun headcannons for you my dear! I have some others planned out for the future (plenty for the Decepticons, don't worry) but here is one I was already working on.

Aching Scars (Decepticon Edition)

Knockout

With how much effort Knockout puts into maintaining his frame it should be obvious that he has some issues with it.

Knockout has two main problems plaguing him, the first being a deep set self consciousness regarding his appearance, and the second being hyper sensitive plating.

He didn't exactly have a great life before the war began, he was a low caste bot who fought tooth and nail in order to become a doctor.

However in the early days when he was still fighting for his place in medical school, he was picked on, beaten, and verbally abused relentlessly for his origins and shabby appearance.

He couldn't afford anything better at the time so he just accepted the abuse silently, however the event still deeply affected him, and as soon as he had the shanix he got the best bodywork money could buy.

As for the plating issue, it is a result of severe energon deprivation during his sparkling years which caused his plating to become much more sensitive than it would have been otherwise.

He handles his self consciousness well enough by taking excellent care of his frame, but despite his efforts he still has some bad days where his plating just hurts.

On those days even slightly strong air flows can cause him discomfort, as for touch, he does everything to avoid it as the pain from such an action is often irritating at best and agonizing at worst.

Breakdown will help him apply special waxes to numb his plating and watch car races with him on the television afterwards in order to comfort him.

Breakdown

Like Bulkhead, Breakdown has been through some things and managed to come out relatively unscathed for the most part.

However unlike Bulkhead he has walked away not with joint pain, but back pain. (No, it is not because of his heavy set front)

Swinging around a giant hammer all the time and generally being stuck with heavy duty jobs has put a lot of strain on his back and he just has days where it bothers him more than usual.

Most of the time it's fine, he smiles, laughs it off, and ignores the aching protoform.

However after particularly active battles and his later confrontations with mech he has some days that just suck.

His back is painful and he can hardly walk without slumping over or leaning on a wall for support and to take a little pressure off his overextended cables.

If he can get away with it he will lay down on the floor on some relatively uninhabited part of the nemesis and just rest, sometimes pulling out a video on a dataslate to pass the time.

When Knockout eventually catches him (because of course he will find out about his best friend's situation) the first thing he does is pump some painkillers into his system.

Afterwards he will force Breakdown to wear a back brace and lay down on an actual berth for the remainder of the day, he might even bring a few snacks round for Breakdown if he is in a good mood.

Knockout covers for him by telling Megatron that Breakdown is assisting him in his work.

It's something that Breakdown greatly appreciates as he knows Knockout prefers to stay in the good graces of who ever is in charge and doesn't like doing anything that could get him in trouble.

After Breakdown's back pains ease up he always leaves Knockout a little something in thanks, generally some polish.

Arachnid

Arachnid... had a less than perfect sparklinghood.

She was not treated well by any means and was manipulated and hurt endlessly.

Her past has affected her mind in terrible ways.

Now all she knows is violence and manipulation, it is the only way for someone like her to survive. (At least that is what she believes)

Her actions emulate this, with her brutal killings and treacherous behavior whenever things start to go south.

She has no friends so to speak of and has no solid loyalties, but she still requires some socialization every now and then.

She sometimes likes to pretend that she is normal, that everything is alright and that she and Arachnid are separate entities.

On those days she will approach another bot and try her best to fit in, to be a sister or companion, a facsimile of what a family should be like.

It has never ended well, especially after the start of the war.

Since coming to earth she has stopped trying to seek out companionship in others as much as she can help.

However sometimes she still wants to see someone, anyone else, and will hunt down an Autobot or Decepticon to torment to satisfy her need for socialization.

Shockwave

Shockwave is a mess, at least mentally.

His emotions were suppressed long ago by the senate, however they still hold some sway over his actions, weather he likes it or not.

His long years alone on Cybertron took a toll on his mind, making his long dormant parental instincts activate once again in a desperate attempt to get him to seek out another bot.

He kept it controlled up until he came onboard the nemesis where he proceeded to spend as much time away from others as possible, deep in his labs in order to keep his 'illogical protocols' in check.

However, not taking care of his spark's needs left him gloomy and depressed, at least as much as he can be with his limited emotional ability.

He tries to drown it out in his work but it becomes harder and harder for him to ignore.

Thankfully (or unfortunately) after the creation of Predaking, Shockwave's erratic instincts gain something to focus on, at last granting him respite.

Predaking is the closest thing to a sparkling onboard the nemesis, as such Shockwave's parental drives imprinted on him without issue.

This has led to a strange relationship. With Shockwave an emotionless scientist, and Predaking a newborn, yet mature Predacon bound together in something akin to a Caretaker-sparkling bond.

It grants them both some healing and growth, with Shockwave learning to recognize his emotions again and Predaking gaining a somewhat loving protector and teacher until he abandons ship to reach his own goals.

Even after Predaking leaves, he and Shockwave still meet occasionally to satisfy their desire to experience family, even if it is just in each other.

Starscream

Despite his flighty and cowardly nature, Starscream has accumulated nearly as many injuries as Megatron himself over the years.

He has lost his T-cog once, the scars from its removal still causing him pain on occasion.

He has been torn to shreds multiple times, to the point of getting a complete frame reformat in order to get rid of the most nasty scars.

And to top it all off he has had his trine ripped from him by the vicious tides of war.

All in all, he has issues.

But the most noticeable one is his extreme paranoia and loneliness.

Without the comfort of his trine he feels the need to be in control all the time in order to give himself a sense of security, even if his power is only in name.

The seekers have a very clear chain of command, but they are also all still family. But on the nemesis it just isn't the same, everything can change in an instant simply because of Megatron's mood that day.

He can't handle the never ending possibility of being thrown from the only familiar place he has left, but he also hasn't forgotten how quickly loyalties can shift.

Megatron has tried to get rid of him one too many times for him to ever feel safe with him.

He doesn't want to be alone because it is not how his kind are meant to be, they are social Cybertronians, incredibly so. But he also can't risk growing to close with anyone on board the nemesis as it could very well be used against him.

He wants his family, he wants to be loved, he wants his trine back.

On the days where it hurts too much he considers going to the Autobots, he considers crushing his pride and lowering his defenses if only so that he can have a family again.

Sometimes he nearly goes through with it.

But in the end he always returns to the nemesis and sobs quietly in his berthroom where none save Soundwave can bother him, too afraid to leave and too lonely to continue putting up his façade of strength.

Soundwave

Soundwave is not silent for dramatic effect, he physically cannot speak the way others do.

He was crafted for an explicit purpose, the process huge amounts of information from Cybertron's collective datanet.

He was not made to do anything other than monitor those he was instructed to look into and collect any and all data requested of him.

However eventually he ended up rebelling and was tossed into the gladiatorial pits in order to get rid of him in a way that would still have some benefit.

Against the odds he learned to be something other than a machine, he became a person and survived the horrors the the pits in no short part due to Megatron's kindness.

Soundwave and Megatron bonded in the pits and during their quest to gain sway among the masses. In those days he, Megatron, and Orion were brothers in arms, companions fighting for a better future.

He never wanted the war to happen, he never wanted the friendships he forged to be broken.

Everything from the war to his time in the pits has damaged him, not only leaving him with physical scars but also severe PTSD and anxiety.

He watched Megatron descend into tyranny, but he just can't bring himself to accept it, to relent and acknowledge that the friend he fought beside died long ago and now is only a husk operated by wrath and greed.

He pretends everything is normal, that everything is fine, that everything they do is for the greater good and that so long as he is loyal, everything will work out in the end.

Some days he can't ignore it, some days his spark screams at him to flee and his processors feel unsteady.

On those days he keeps to himself even more than usual and confides his Lazerbeak and Ravage, distracting himself from the reality and indulging himself in his own fantasies until everything calms down again.

Then he will return to work, pretending that everything is fine again until his spark forces him to see the reality once more.

Megatron

The great and mighty warlord Megatron suffers from many mental issues that are so numerous as there to be no point in naming them.

Despite all that he is a strategical genius and highly charismatic, even after snorting copious amounts of dark energon.

However said dark energon has not done good things for his frame in the long run.

His old injuries from the pits and the height of the war have long since healed, leaving him with only minor aches and pains every now and then.

But once dark energon was thrown into the mix the only world he came to know is one of pain when he isn't high as a kite on the stuff.

His spark chamber aches as it is assaulted by Unicron's influence, and every part of his body burns with rage made manifest, causing him to act erratically.

On days where it is really bad he will retreat to his quarters and write poetry to describe his woes.

Often he finds himself growing sentimental during those times, remembering the days he spent with Orion before everything fell to pieces.

He doesn't want to hate Orion, how could he hate Orion? So to preserve the memory of his brother he separates him and Optimus in his mind and places all his hate and anguish on the Prime, as is shown in his rather disturbing writings.

Megatron lives in a state of delusion similar to Soundwave, unable to accept that his actions may be wrong and that Orion and Optimus are one and the same, only separated by maturity and memory.

Megatron tries not the think too hard on it, lest he destroy his own world view.

I know it's not the best but I hope you like it! I tried my best at making the Decepticons interesting and unique in their issues but honestly they are all so screwed up its kinda hard not to have some overlapping. Anyway thanks for the request! It was a ton of fun to write this!

#transformers #transformers prime #tfp #fluff #angst #starscream #megatron #knockout #breakdown #shockwave #predaking #arachnid #soundwave #Injuries for all my dear Decepticons #gotta love all that suffering

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ecoamerica · 1 month

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Watch the 2024 American Climate Leadership Awards for High School Students now: https://youtu.be/5C-bb9PoRLc

The recording is now available on ecoAmerica's YouTube channel for viewers to be inspired by student climate leaders! Join Aishah-Nyeta Brown & Jerome Foster II and be inspired by student climate leaders as we recognize the High School Student finalists. Watch now to find out which student received the $25,000 grand prize and top recognition!

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