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devilmademewriteit · 1 year

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Pretty When You Cry

part 2 of Dark But Just A Game

pairing: (pre-ellie) joel miller x afab!fem!reader

summary: after getting a taste of dad’s associate, Joel Miller, facedown on a desk, you can’t seem to stay away. despite his best efforts, he can’t seem to, either.

warnings: rough sex/smut (fingering, fem penetration, unprotected sex) so 18+ only content; fem afab reader; mentions of reader having long-ish hair; alcohol consumption; pet names (sweetheart, angel, baby); dubcon (slight intoxication, power imbalance); age gap; dbf!Joel.

beta reader: @millllenniawrites aka bestie4lifie

word count: 4.7k

no use of y/n in this fic

Click to read part 1: Dark But Just a Game

Click to read part 3: Let Me Love You Like a Woman

ok y’all here she is!! thank you thank you for the reblogs on part 1! this piece and the last were slightly inspired by the dbf!joel miller drabbles by @anchoeritic, which you can read here. once again, love hearing your feedback, negative and positive, & my requests are always open<3

-em<333

—

It had been months since you’d last seen him.

Joel and Tess had a tendency of disappearing for weeks on end, taking the riskier smuggling jobs that nobody else dared to. How they managed to fly under FEDRA’s radar time and time again remained a mystery to all. The pair had to be extremely well connected on both ends of the spectrum.

It was easy to pretend that nothing had changed. He’d left without a word the morning after the party, taking Tess and a great deal of your father’s ammo along with him. It’s not like you’d expected a warning, much less a goodbye, but his departure still felt so sudden, so pointed. The next day, all he’d left you with was a constellation of light bruises between your thighs and a small, white pill in a dime bag tucked under your bedroom door.

So you went on with your life, only allowing your thoughts to wander in his direction when you’d had too much to drink or whenever you heard the word ‘sweetheart.’

Then, this morning—rubbing sleep from your eyes, you’d stumbled down to the main floor in a scant excuse for pajamas, failing to register the multitude of voices at the base of the stairs in your half-awake state.

And there he was, his spread legs taking up half of the shabby couch, one arm draped casually over the back, his other relaxed at his side. A deer in headlights, you screeched to a stop as soon as you were conscious enough to recognize him, frozen in his gaze as he briefly took you in—one hand shifting subtly to pull at the fabric of his jeans. Then, he looked away, his features hardening into a mask of nonchalance and indifference.

No acknowledgment, no greeting, no nothing.

Great. Things were back to how they’d been before he’d fucked you dumb on a wooden desk.

Scampering back up the stairs, you sealed yourself back into your bedroom, doing your very best to ignore the heat building between your legs.

A heat that only Joel-Fucking-Miller could entice from you.

Leaning your forehead against the door, you kicked yourself mentally for running away from the (non)interaction like a scared little kid. Where had that bygone, unchecked confidence gone? Where was that fearless playfulness you’d so often used against him?

Fine. If Joel wanted to pretend that nothing had happened between you two, he was leaving you with two options.

The first was to ignore him back.

No, you decided. That would be exactly what he’d want of you—what he’d expect of you.

To make things easy for him.

Conveniently, your second option was to make things really, really hard for him. To make it impossible for him to ignore you.

Good thing you were exceptionally well versed in what made Joel Miller incapable of disregarding you. Getting him to snap was practically your specialty, your carefully crafted home-made method.

After all, your incessant teasing had gotten you facedown on a table before, maybe it could get you on your back this time.

Smiling mischievously, you felt your old confidence soar back to its former standing.

—

“What could possibly be more fun than watching a building explode?”

Emma punctuates her tone with incredulity like a needle passing through silk—she was always doing a poor job of managing her attitude when it came to peer-pressuring you.

“C’mon, you know I can’t leave the boss here with all these people,” you lie effortlessly. Of course, you could leave. Hell, your dad probably would’ve preferred it that way. There weren’t many parents who enjoyed or encouraged the presence of their child while they were—oh, just committing criminal offenses—and your father was no exception.

Under normal circumstances, gallivanting around the moonlit city with Emma would’ve been your bread and butter, especially when she had intel on a firefly operation that would be (she hoped) culminating in a few explosions and a ton of rounds fired. But it wasn’t every night that your old man hosted a soirée for the best bandits in the city to congregate, getting them to drink shit liquor and make shit deals.

And Joel Miller was in your home, drinking the strong stuff and actively avoiding you.

So, these were not normal circumstances.

“That’s so lame,” she whines, brow furrowing in anguish as she mourns her mission.

Guilty eyes to the floor, you toss her a placating smile, thankful for her poor observation skills. Despite being raised in a family of highly successful criminals, Emma seriously lacked in the whole ‘perception’ department.

As it happened, you were just about ready to give up on your own mission. Despite going bra-less in the tightest top you owned and wearing the most ass-hugging jeans you could find, Joel hadn’t spared a mere glance in your direction all night.

In fact, you hadn’t even seen the guy. He’d been M.I.A. all night.

Frustrated, you decide to play your final card. Joel Millers aside, it was a fun card to play, even if you ended up losing the game.

Someone was going to have their hands on you tonight.

Scanning the bustling room of criminals, worn-in faces and worn-out hands gliding across your field of vision, your gaze lands on an unfamiliar young man. Tall, blonde-ish, lanky—looks like a toy still in its box, begging to be taken out and played with.

Perfect.

“Give me an hour,” you murmur urgently, catching Emma’s wayward attention, “no questions asked, and I’ll watch the damn shoot out with you, sparky.”

She looks at you, a bewildered smile creeping onto her expression. “But I thought—you just said—”

“Without asking any questions, Em.”

She puts her hands up in mock surrender and backs away, subsequently tapping her wrist and mouthing ‘one hour.’

Straightening yourself out, you ease your way toward your target, landing in the unoccupied space between the young man and the out-of-commission fireplace. He eyes you up before quickly looking away.

Nervous. Good.

“He waters down the drinks, y’know.”

Looking up at him through your eyelashes, the stranger returns your attempt at conversation with a puzzled glance. Jerking your chin, you gesture to his cup, full of a light-brown liquid that was once a spiced rum or a bourbon, now a glass of water barely seasoned with dark liquor.

“Saves the good stuff to repackage and resell to soldiers. His crime co-conspirators get stuck with the weak shit.”

You keep your tone casual, half focussed on the art of flirtation, half eyeing the room for a pair of angry, dark eyes. The boy sizes you up, nodding with sudden respect and understanding.

“You’re the boss’s daughter.”

You smile half-heartedly, a twisted part of you enjoying the look of amazement on his face. “Guilty,” you respond, shrugging sheepishly. Angling your body towards him, you flash him your most exquisite expression of interest.

“Meet him, yet?” You ask, curious to hear his thoughts. After all, your old man never failed to make an impression—nine times out of ten, it was an extremely negative one.

He shakes his head, explaining, “I only know about him ‘cause I’m here running my first job for him.”

“Interesting. And you are…?”

He stares down into his cup.

“Just passing through,” he answers quietly.

“Just-Passing-Through—what an interesting name!” You tease, hand landing gently on his bicep. “Is it foreign?”

The stranger snorts. Eyes darting across the space, you scan the room again for Joel, giggling artificially with the stranger.

“So,” He gestures awkwardly to the dusty, yellowing, crowded room. “You live here?”

You nod, gazing intently into his hazel eyes. The boy’s cute, there’s no denying it, and a tiny voice in your head tells you to forget about Miller, to actually try with this guy and experience something normal, something simple for a change.

But it is a tiny voice, and quickly, another louder, deeper and richer one reemerges to dominate over the softer echoes in your head. “I like needy” “you think of me when you’re touchin’ this pretty pussy?” “Takin’ it so good, pretty girl—”

The pair of bandits in front of you inadvertently shuffle a few feet to the left, clearing a direct path, right down the center of the room. You’re graced with an illuminating glimpse through the disorderly crowd.

He’s leaning against the old gas stove, burly arms crossed over his chest, apparently deep in conversation with your father. Shit. He looks so fucking fine in that dark t-shirt; your breath catches slightly as you trail your gaze up to his face, remembering the way his soft stubble felt against your neck, the way those hands felt on your tits, your ass, your waist, buried inside you…

Cool it, you scold yourself. We’ve still got work to do.

“You like music?” You ask abruptly, returning your attention to the lanky boy at your side.

Taken aback, he rubs the back of his neck, replying, “Uhh, I guess?”

“Great.” Plucking his cup from his grasp and placing it above the fireplace, you hold out your hands to him. He smiles a soft, sweet, shy smile—excitement burgeoning in his timid eyes—and links his fingers with yours.

Pulling the stranger across the room, you briefly lock eyes with Emma, whose mouth gapes open as she relays her classic what-the-hell-is-wrong-with-you-and-also-you’re-my-hero expression, which you return with your own specialty, an I-don’t-know-how-we-got-here-but-here-we-are shrug. You make a point not to look in Joel’s direction, giggling affectionately as you climb the stairs with your gaze fixed on the boy’s. It was better if he thought you were doing this because you wanted to and not just to make him jealous.

So what if it was a petty game to play? Games had won you Joel the first time. They could sure as hell win you him again.

Your door creaks on its hinges as you press your free hand to it, the occupied one still interlaced between gentle, long fingers. Guiding the boy into the room, you make a conscious choice to leave the door ajar. Sure, it felt riskier (and that alone was enough to entice you), but it also seemed more natural—something a stupid, horny youngster would do.

The stranger stands self-consciously in the middle of your room, taking in the unmade bed, the faded, distressed curtains, and the old cassette player on your dresser. Shuffling over, you hit play, and Jimi Hendrix’s skilled fingers work their magic over the ancient speakers.

Spinning around to face him, you lean back casually against the hard, wooden edge of the dresser.

“You know it?” You ask, voice infused with seduction, intrigue, and mystery—all those things that men seemed to enjoy.

He frowns in concentration. “Heard it, probably couldn’t name it.”

“Can’t name Hendrix?” You gasp, feigning offense with a hand over your heart. He shrugs shyly, smiling down at his feet.

He really was sweet. Something extremely gentle dominated his disposition, something that pulled you in and asked you not to leave. He’d watch meteor showers with you and lend you his jacket if you shivered within a 10-mile radius of him. He’d ask, “is this okay?” before laying you down and making sweet love to you—missionary, of course, so he could look into your eyes and steal soft moans from your mouth with passionate kisses. Hell, he’d probably get straight for you, ditch the fast life, build a nursery and raise babies with you.

You fling out your hand, daring him to take it. Hesitantly, he moves to grasp your fingers in his, looking down to search your softened stare.

“You’re pretty fearless, huh?” He strokes your index affectionately with his thumb.

Chuckling under your breath, you lift a curious hand to trace his cheekbone. “I know what I want,” you reply in a partly seductive, partly earnest whisper. He ducks his head, and you rise onto your tippy toes to press your lips to his, butterflies dancing in your stomach.

“M’I interrupting somethin’?” A deep voice booms from the doorway.

The stranger swings around, revealing one half-annoyed, half-amused Joel Miller, arms crossed, leaning informally against the frame. Your heart lurches in your chest, drumming hard and fast. Stifling the reaction, you fix your eyes unabashedly onto his, recognizing the unchecked danger roaming his gaze.

Oh, fuck.

“Joel.” You acknowledge him coolly. “Nice to have you back.”

He ignores your reproachful taunt and the pointed tone you deliver it in, breaking away from your glare. The tense, tall form next to you shifts uncomfortably from one foot to the other.

Joel draws an understated smirk, drinking in the effect of his presence. “You’re needed downstairs.”

You raise an interrogative eyebrow at him. “For what?”

“Not you, sweetheart,” Joel condescends. “Him.”

You gape at him, gaze darting between the two men, not comprehending a damn thing.

“Oh!” The boy lunges forward, extending a gangly hand toward Joel. “You must be the boss, then, yeah?” He gestures back to you. “Told her earlier I was startin’ out with you tonight. Thanks a lot for the opportunity, man, really—” he rambles.

Joel shows no signs of acknowledgment aside from an inconspicuous twitch at the corner of his mouth.

Heat rushes to your cheeks, and you snort involuntarily—defensively—as over-correction corrupts your tone, gushing, “Joel is not my dad.”

Subtle amusement flashes across Miller’s expression.

“Oh,” the boy responds, hands dropping to his sides in embarrassment.

Joel clears his throat, interrupting the brief interlude of painfully awkward muteness. You think a silent thank you to Jimi Hendrix’s guitar for making the moment a tad less excruciating. “Down the stairs and to the left,” Miller instructs. “They’re waitin’ on you.”

The stranger nods. Shuffling towards the door, he spins on his heels, relaying to you a sheepish wave, mumbling out a hopeful “see you around.”

He leaves. The din from the main floor and the music from the speakers punctuates your tense stand-off with Joel Miller as genuine annoyance clouds your thoughts.

You simmer speechlessly.

“Good song,” he mentions off-hand. Stifling a scoff at the nonchalance, the cockyness, and the sheer casualness of his demeanour, your annoyance swells.

“You’re needed downstairs.” You mock his deep voice, throwing up air quotes to drive the derision home. “Really, Miller? That’s the best you could come up with?”

A shrug.

“S’true, sweetheart. Go n’ see for yourself if you want.”

“Bullshit.”

Again, he shrugs, eyeing you up hungrily, visibly entertained by your flustered state.

“Y’know, Joel, I actually liked this one,” you mutter coolly, realizing the genuine truth of the sentiment as the words roll off your tongue.

“You could do better.”

Huffing a quick breath, you cross your arms and roll your eyes dramatically.

Joel bathes in your ire for only a moment before pushing off the frame and shutting the cracked, dilapidated door behind his back. A familiar tingling spreads through your core, mounting to a buzz as he closes the distance between you. He weaves a hand behind your back—there’s a click, and then the music’s stopped.

“So, that’s it?“ You challenge, Joel’s proximity doing a number on your nervous system. “Just gonna keep ignoring me til’ I’ve got my eyes on someone else?”

Tone both sincere and playful, he rumbles, “jus’ cause I can’t have you, angel, doesn’ mean some other jerk-off gets to.”

Damn it. Damn it right to hell.

Joel’s downright possessiveness makes you weak in the knees, ringing in your ears like a bible hymn. The ridges and valleys of words spell out come home; you think a silent prayer to God, begging him for the strength to resist them. But Joel’s magnetism beckons you towards sin, and no God stands a chance against the unholy look in those darkening eyes.

It serves no use, fighting against it. You craved Joel like a smoker craves nicotine—and you’d risk it all for one more fix.

You needed the man to cave.

“You can have me, Joel.”

A dangerous smile teases his lips. Then, he ducks his head, slowly shaking it side to side.

“Trust me, angel—you don’t want that.”

A huff. “Yes, I do,” you insist.

“You want me to fuck you, that’s it,” voice deepening a near-octave, he straightens to tower over you. “‘Cause if I actually had you…?” He whistles under his breath as the sentence trails off.

A hand cups your face, one wanton finger absentmindedly tracing your cheekbone.

“I’m not a good man, sweetheart.”

Determination courses through your blood as his warning sets your nerves alight. You grasp his thick wrist, turning to place a soft kiss on the skin of his palm. His shadowed eyes lock onto yours, drinking in the sight of your lips dragging across his hand.

“Well,” you purr, seizing what you recognize as the perfect opportunity, “I’m not a ‘good girl,’ either.”

“And I never asked for good, Miller.”

A moment passes—only Joel’s breath, your heartbeat, and the echoes of your invitation disrupt the heavy silence.

And temptation wins him over, once again.

A powerful arm snakes around your back, spinning you around easily. The backs of your knees hit the edge of your mattress, and before you know it, Joel’s pushing your waist down roughly, settling himself between your legs as he looms over your body.

“Y’know,” he muses darkly, eyes wild with lust. “You got some serious fuckin’ daddy issues.”

He undoes the button of your jeans, grabbing the denim at the waist and yanking it unceremoniously over your hips, your ass, and halfway down your thighs. Without wasting a second, he pushes your dampened panties to the side, easing a thick finger between your dripping folds.

“Remind me to thank your old man for that.”

He groans with approval at your wetness, your readiness for him. Crying out “Joel!” in surprise and pleasure, you dig your fingernails into his forearm.

“Fuck, angel,” he breathes softly, watching his digit pumping in and out of you, “Jus’ can’t bring myself to let anyone else touch you like this.” He palms himself through his jeans to relieve some of the building arousal.

“Wanna be the only man this needy lil’ pussy comes for.”

It’s not enough. Tears leak from your eyes and your knuckles go white as you squirm on the unmade sheets—Joel’s touch fills you with ecstasy, but it’s still not enough.

“Joel—” you whine, fighting to prop yourself up on your elbows, forcing yourself to meet his lust-filled gaze before wandering first to the sight of his fingers fucking you, then to the bulge in his pants.

You need more of him.

“I know, sweetheart,” he coos, following your line of vision. ”But I’ll split you right open f’I don’t warm you up first.”

When he slips another finger between your walls, your back collapses against the mattress. Mewls and whimpers tumble from your lips—male satisfaction darkens Joel’s complexion with every moan you give him.

“Know what I thought about, away on the job?” His fingers alternate between curling roughly inside your cunt and rubbing your own slick against your swollen bud. “Thought aaalll about this pretty fuckin’ pussy, takin’ my cock from behind.”

“Pictured it when I used my hand.”

Mouth frozen in a silent “ah,” you look into his hungry, heavy eyes and the grey-speckled hair falling into them.

“Yeah?” You manage, voice involuntarily sliding up an octave.

He cups your cheek and nods.

Your eyebrows knit together in euphoria as his talk and his tantalizing fingers bring you right up to the edge of your climax.

And then Joel’s abruptly pulling his fingers out, leaving you gasping for air on the damn brink of bliss. He drags your jeans and underwear towards your ankles, tearing them from your body and tossing them carelessly onto the bed.

“You take that pill I left you?”

You nod enthusiastically, watching intently as Joel’s wet, wide fingers work impatiently at his buckle. “S’good, baby.” He pulls his own denim over his hips, smirking arrogantly as amazement crosses your expression. You’d forgotten how big he was. “‘Cause I’m gonna need you to take it again.”

It feels like the first time all over again, watching his heavy length bob up and down in front of you. You wonder what he tastes like.

Before you can find out, he’s yanked your legs over his hips, leaning forward to guide the tip of his manhood between your aching folds and teasing you with the dark head of his cock.

You’re moaning a soft “feels s’good, Joel” when he pushes himself entirely inside you, eliciting a sharp squeal from your lips as the curve of his cock grazes that spot inside you—as he bottoms out completely. He releases a low groan; it sounds like angels sighing.

Needing to see more of you, he bunches your shirt above your breasts. “Look at you, baby,” He palms one roughly, teasing and pinching the nipple as his thighs snap against your ass, the torturous combination bringing you closer and closer to oblivion.

“S’fuckin’ pretty with your tits bouncin’ for me.”

Lost in his eyes, expression frozen in ecstasy, you anchor your nails into his forearms, responding to his thrusts by grinding your hips against his.

“Fuckin hell, sweetheart.”

Joel’s eyebrows knit together as he gives you every inch of himself without holding back; your body responds to him—muscles quiver uncontrollably, cunt squeezes devotedly around his cock. The only word you seem to remember is ‘Joel.’

“Squirmin’ like crazy, baby,” he mumbles. “Been waitin’ for me?” His harsh, rhythmic strokes fuck you mute—but that was never an excuse with Joel. A calloused hand circles your gasping throat, pressing softly against your windpipe in an unmistakeable command.

“Words, angel.” Possessiveness underpins his husky demand. “Anyone else fuck you while I was gone?”

You meet his shadowed eyes, gaze hazy with pleasure. “N-no, Joel.”

He groans with approval.

“Fuckin’ right. That’s my girl.”

Your breath quickens as your clit begins to twitch, release simmering between your hips. “Oh god, Joel, I-I can’t—”

When he ducks his head into your neck, the scent of sandalwood soap mingling with his sweat overwhelms you with need; Joel’s teeth nip at your skin affectionately, beard brushing your collarbone as his thumb finds its way to your throbbing bud.

“Ohmygod—Joel, Joel, Joel—” uttering his name in worship, you reach your climax the second his finger presses into your clit—toes curling inside your socks, fingernails digging into the soft cotton of his t-shirt.

“That’s it, good girl,” he praises, growing harder and harder as his name tumbles from your lips, punctuating the rhythmic sound of his broad thighs slapping against your skin. “Jus like your lil’ pussy.” His hands move to your waist, squeezing your hips between his calloused hands as he bounces you up and down his pulsing cock.

“Fuckin’ young n’ needy.”

As he fucks you through your orgasm, you feel Joel working another one out of you. Wanton whines and moans escape your throat. Catching glimpses of his broad, towering form over you only makes the fluttering more intense—meeting his wild eyes only brings the simmering heat inside you to a downright boil.

“Please—come inside me—want it so bad—Joel—”

“Keep fuckin’ quiet,” He growls. “Tryna make your poor fuckin’ dad hear you beggin’ for my cum?”

Joel loved fucking you like this.

He loved fucking you with only a shitty, thin door separating your naked, eager body from all the blissfully ignorant assholes he worked with. He loved watching you writhe pathetically under his weight, cunt wrapped around him so desperately.

Made him feel like a man.

“Gonna give me another one?” He goads, voice straining slightly as his own release builds fast between his thighs. “C’mon, baby, wanna feel this pussy comin’ on my cock—js’one more, sweetheart, that’s right—”

His breathing turns shallow as his words tumble out; your eyes roll to the skies as he takes you there again, your near-sobs of “thank you thank you thank you” stifled just in time by the rush of his hand to your lips. Cradling your head, he pulls you into his shoulder and buries himself impossibly deep inside your cunt. You distantly register his muffled “shit—s’fucking good, baby” as his seed soaks your walls. Joel pushes his cum right into your guts with a couple of final, decelerating strokes.

Head still cradled in his neck, stars dance before your eyes. Joel’s chest heaves with every breath he takes, and his exhalations tickle the top vertebrae of your spine. You let your heartbeats settle together, frozen in place as he slowly softens inside you.

Finally, he pulls out with a gentle groan.

“Gonna be the death of me, sweetheart.”

You slump onto the mattress, a cocktail of his cum and your slick leaking out of your pussy, still unable to string along a cohesive sentence.

Softly smiling, he adds under his breath, “Be at the wrong end of every conman and criminal’s rifle f’anyone ever found out about this.”

You prop yourself up on trembling elbows, watching Joel pull his jeans back up over his hips.

“I guess we’ll just have to run away together,” you hum, half-joking, half-serious. “You can teach me how to be a big-bad-smuggler.”

He chuckles, the rumble in his chest blanketing your still-pulsing body with an unfamiliar warmth.

“Yeah, you’d sure like that, huh?” His eyes dance with playfulness, a rare vision of Joel Miller. It suits him. “Wouldn’t last a damn day with you teasin’ me on the job.” He kneels down, finding your underwear and slipping it onto your ankles, wriggling it up your calves—a practiced movement, like something he’d done a million times before. “M’not sure you’d be too crazy about the clickers—though sick n’ decaying does seem to be your type.”

You giggle, lightly slapping his firm shoulder as he bends over you, pulling your damp panties up. His fingers smooth the distressed fabric delicately, lingering on the skin of your hip for a brief, cherishing touch. Silence settles between you as Joel’s thumb strokes your hip absentmindedly. Glasses clink and laughter erupts downstairs.

Brusquely, he clears his throat and straightens up, a hard mask of apathy descending on his features once again.

“Clean yourself up, alright?” He smooths his hair back, heading for the door.

“Joel.”

He knows the meaning behind your tone before you do.

It’s not that there’s anything, in particular, you need him to hear—you just don’t want him to leave.

Not yet. Not now.

Hand on the doorknob, his looming form stills.

“You should…” he begins, eyes glued to the door, throat constricting around his words. “You should go out with that guy. From earlier. Be good for you to see someone your age, y’know.”

“Well, I don’t want that guy,” you respond, sitting up on the mattress, fixing your stare on his back. “Do you really need me to say it, Miller? I don’t care how old you are, or that you’re friends with my dad, or how many people you’ve wasted,” you ramble, the taste of exasperation and agitation building on your tongue. “Hell, I wouldn’t even care if you were fuckin’ infected. I like you.”

He pinches the bridge of his nose, eyebrows furrowing together in frustration.

“Well, don’t.”

He exhales, shaking his head with frustration.

“Shouldn’t’ve let this happen again. Made a damn mess of things by fuckin’ you.”

For some extremely unwelcome reason, his words bite like hell. You’d borne your soul to him, been vulnerable with him, had him inside you twice now, and all he viewed you as was a regret. Crestfallen, tears stinging your eyes, you roll onto your side, facing away from him, still half-dressed. You don’t have the capacity to care about how pitiful a sight it is, only wanting the man to leave you to tend to your wounds in peace.

But, of course, he doesn’t.

He won’t.

That hand just can’t seem to twist that fuckin’ knob. “Jesus fuckin’ Christ,” he mutters. “Okay.”

Something like hope begins to bloom in your chest as you hear the concession leaking from his words. You try to beat it down, focussed on the cracks and divots in the wall facing your tear-lined eyes.

“Tess is gone for the week—job outside the Zone.” Despite the tortured strain in his voice, it tastes of desire. “Place’ll be empty. Jus’ don’t let anyone see you.”

With that, he wrenches the door open; a brief swell of noise floods the room before he seals you back in. Still curled up into yourself, the beginnings of a smile etch their way onto your lips. You turn into your pillow, grinning into the linen, unable to contain it.

Victory.

Joel Miller was a hard man. Of that, you were certain. absolutely certain.

But you were also certain that he was soft on you.

And that felt like winning.

—

Read part 1: Dark but Just a Game

Read part 3: Let Me Love You Like a Woman (Let Me Hold You Like a Baby)

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TAGLIST: @witchy-jadda @bookofbee @ninebluehearts @jbcalway @jasminedragoon @mads-grace4 @anyas-stuff @liviloo12346 @mattmurdocksgirlfriend @stardust-chords-enthusiast @fruitcupsworld @sallymilkweed

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TAGLIST: @witchy-jadda @ninebluehearts@jbcalway @jasminedragoon@mads-grace4 @anyas-stuff @liviloo94 @ninebluehearts

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jackals-ships · 2 years

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also love how alduin via dragon priest au has become his own oc HJFLS like if i was good at making new settings id just plop him down in one like <3 there we go, mine now

#jackals barks #original verse has as well but like. i feel dragon priest au is even Larger an oc bc of the giant canon departure

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harrieatthemet · 3 months

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Newborn

It's a miracle he hasn't chewed off all 10 fingernails yet.

this is long but whatever!

There's an abundance of nerves so dense it may as well have it's own seat in the Range Rover; plenty enough to go around with seconds for anyone interested. With the stereo at a whopping maximum volume of 2, and unbearably loud fidgeting in the driver's seat, you're well versed enough to know something is just eating away at him.

"The only thing louder than your nail biting," you tease from the backseat, "is the sound of your heart beating in your chest."

You watch his eyes briefly flicker their attention to the mirror, greener than ever as they widen a bit to catch a steady glimpse of your reflection from the backseat. And all he lets out is a quick sigh before he tightens the grip of the wheel (10 and 2, the entire time), eyes out of your peripheral vision as quickly as they came in. He only waits to nervously shift his weight in his seat for the umpteenth time until he gets to another red light.

"S'it bothering you," his tone is so flustered and apologetic, you almost feel bad for joking, "m'sorry just, y'know, nervous."

For the first time since the hospital departure, he turns in his seat to fully face the second row of the car. He's envious of you; so calm and collected, radiant with joy even after a grueling delivery. And he sucks in a calming breath when he trails his glance to the tiny baby snuggled sweetly into the car seat beside you, swimming in her baggy pink flower pajamas and endless mountain of hospital-gifted blankets.

He's done this ride before. He remembers it so fondly as, easily, unarguably, singlehandedly the best drive of his entire life. And it feels like it was only yesterday when he was bringing Angel Baby home for the first time. It's exactly why he's so fucking nervous.

"Har, we're good," and as you patiently insist, you're adjusting the frilly white blanket on the newborn beside you, "but you're driving 9 miles per hour. I literally just saw that woman on the scooter pass us for the third time."

"Hey she's bloody fast on that thing, you saw her!"

"Pretty sure she's missing a wheel," you snicker, "so what's actually bothering you?"

He doesn't want to say it. Like, he really doesn't want to say it. Not just because you both have already discussed it over a dozen times in the past week alone, but because he doesn't care to tarnish what should be a wholesome moment.

So instead he says nothing. Not for a long time, he doesn't let the silence linger but for a minute he says nothing; he barely breathes. When your hand reaches out though, and finds it's way to his shoulder to give it a reassuring squeeze, he releases that breath before letting the words soon follow.

"What if she hates 'er," and the way he's blurting it out tells you he's been sitting on this for hours, "or worse, what if she hates me and-and, I dunno, (Y/N) m'nervous. Y'remember wha' she said!"

A very shallow sigh of disapproval innately makes it's way passed your lips. It isn't because you're annoyed with him. The guilt is natural and, by nature, he only ever wants angel baby to be happy. But it's stemming from the fact that you're only physically capable of providing so much assurance. Not to mention he practically begged for another baby.

"Harry she's two," you remind him, "she told your mother she didn't want legs so she wouldn't have to go for a walk."

On the other hand, though, the imminent addition to the family was not a hit for everyone in the household. Angel baby did not take kindly to the impending addition. And you know exactly the incident he's referring to. Sure, she's definitely well immersed into her terrible two's stage, and you'd like to chalk it up to that. But she's never been keen on sharing Harry with anyone, even you sometimes. So the idea of now having to share him with a sister presents itself as an incredibly challenging hurdle.

"She'll be fine," and as you say it as soothingly as possible, you can see he begins to ease up "she's got a built in best friend now."

Those exact words are playing on a loop the rest of the trek home. Each stoplight that brings him closer to the front gate of the house, he's mentally psyching himself up; the best thing to say when he walks in, how to ease her into the role of being a big sister, the right way to bring you in with the new baby. He's so consumed in concocting the perfect delivery that he doesn't even realize he's already pulling past the open gates.

"This is your house," and already he's gone full blown with the baby talk, "y'live here with me 'n mummy 'nd a sister who... might not like you very much fo' a bit."

Though he masqueraded it with a sweet, gooey, charming little baby voice, your squinting eyes are loaded with displeasure so he understands it was not well received.

He takes a moment before opening the door; adjusts the hospital bags in his arms, takes in a breath before allowing it to roll out, lays a gentle kiss to your temple. Then he decides to stretch out his arm to press his thumb on the door handle.

It's a bittersweet moment. He's itching to see angel baby after two long days with out her. And he knows there's family, both yours and his, waiting eagerly to get their eyes on their newest 8 pound family member. But his heart sings when he hears the pattering of a familiar set of bare feet down coming from down the hallway. Immediately, he drops the bags in the foyer to make his way out from the front entrance and down towards the living room.

"Go see m'love," he hears Anne coo sweetly, so he rounds the corner, "who could tha' be?"

For the moment being, despite the fact it's fleeting, he tables the introduction to the newborn once he lays eyes on angel baby. Well aware of the fact you're just in the next room over, a brand new bundle of joy toted in your arms, he feels a surmountable sense of joy now that angel baby's in eye shot; hair unbrushed and a mess from what one would assume was a successful nap, head to toe in a watermelon printed pajama set, eyes wide with sheer joy and arms outstretched to intercept him. To which, he eagerly accepts as he crouches down to let her crash into his chest before sweeping her up.

"There's m'girl," he hums, hand tucking her hair from her face before showering her with kisses, "how's m'angel, hm? Still sleepy from y'sleepover this weekend? Missed me as much as I missed you?"

He can almost feel his heart melt to mush in his chest as he cranes his neck back, listening in awe as angel baby spares no detail in her weekend with both sets of grandparents and Gemma. Most of it is borderline incoherent, though her elaborate expressions and dramatized recounts of events has him entranced.

"Where's mommy?"

"Oh yes" Anne's near double over in excitement, inviting herself into the conversation as she rubs small circle on angel baby's back, "where's (Y/N)? M'about ready t'explode, m'so excited!"

There it is again, that nervous feeling bubbling up in his stomach again. He's excited too; wants to show off the adorable little baby that completed his growing family, watch his mother and sister fawn over her. But he doesn't want to blow it on his first go. Most importantly, mere forethought of angel baby feeling like second place is enough to make him wanna start crying.

So he's going to try to ease angel baby into her new role as a sister while she's still fresh out of a nap and giddy with excitement. And while he still has the balls to actually go through with it.

"Mummy's here poppet," his tone is so sweet and fragile it'd break from the weight of a feather, "n' I think she's got something really, really special for you."

An animated expression paints itself across her face; eyes wide and doe-like as they twinkle in giddiness, her smile tripling in size. It's only a matter of seconds before she's writhing in Harry's arm, desperate to break herself from his grip to place both feet back on the floor.

There's no reason he should feel this guilty and this nervous. He's hot on angel baby's heels as she turns her skips into a light jog, traipsing down the hallway towards the front entrance sitting room as fast as her short legs will allow.

Anne's awing is low in tone, hands flying to her chest as she delights in the sight she's taking in. And as she goes to get a better look, making idle chatter with your parents and gushing to Gemma, Harry's eyes are darting back and forth as though he's waiting for angel baby to go right into orbit.

Momentarily, he anticipates an alternative outcome. Angel baby runs right up to you with arms wide open. He does that thing that gets him every single time - where she melts into the kisses you deliver all over her face. She hasn't killed the newborn yet, or thrown herself to the floor in existential despair. That's gotta be good start.

"Hi bubba, I missed you so, so much" you place a kiss to her forehead and she smiles contently, completely ignoring the baby in your arm, "but I have someone who wants to meet you!"

She squeals with joy, jumping up and down, "A puppy!"

"No baby," you laugh, and Harry swears he's about to spin off the fucking planet, "even better, a baby!"

"A baby dolly!"

She's either choosing to disregard the fact that the baby perched in front of her is 100% a real human being and not made of plastic, or she's genuinely oblivious. Regardless, Harry's panic is quickly becoming your panic. Because now you're both teetering on anxious, though Anne is swift to pick up on it and comes to aid.

"No poppet, not a dolly," Anne mewls, crouching down beside angel baby in front of your lap, "s'your baby sister. Mumma and Daddy brought y'a real sister."

And now it's fully set in - sheer panic. He's quick to jump into action though.

In quick strides from across the other side of the room, he very gently inserts himself beside you on the couch. You aren't catching on to what's to come and he chalks it up to you still being a little tired. Why wouldn't you be? He doesn't want this to go south, so he shifts himself on the couch, knees spread a bit so angel baby can lean on his leg and look over at the . If anyone could be the buffer here, he thinks he's the best bet.

Harry coos, "Say hi t'your baby sister!"

"No"

You side eye your husband beside you, who is staring at angel baby as though he's trying to to mentally coerce her into actually wanting to like the infant. He doesn't know where to take it from here. Angel baby is so viscerally displeased and uninterested at not just the concept of a sister, but the literal physical sister sitting inches away from her face.

"Dunno if that I love my big sister onesie seem t'be working." Gemma cracks in attempt to lighten the mood.

"No?" Harry repeats, though soft, but with the undertone of frantic as he glares at his older sister, "What do y'mean, button? She's really nice, 'nd

"My daddy!"

"Oh I told you," Harry's voice is a hushed squeak as the internal panic collides with irreconciable guilt "(Y/N) I told you!"

He can't imagine things getting worse than this. Until, of course, it does. Because as soon as the infant yawns and squirms a bit, Harry reaches over to your lap on instinct to adjust the hospital cap still clad to her head. And that was enough to get angel baby to strike. She leans right over alongside Harry with her fingers spread and palm flat, going to give the baby a shove before dominantly announcing another 'my daddy.'

A slew of gasps and stern no's come flooding out by all your familial spectators, even including yourself as you angle your body away from your 2 year old with a vengeance. Harry's stomach has completely flipped upside down, especially when angel baby bursts into tears and collapses to the floor.

The temper tantrum has ensued; she's a puddle at Harry's feet, back flat against the multicolored sherpa carpet as she rips out wails that could shatter every glass flower vase throughout the first floor. And naturally, it sets off some cries of distress from the new baby. In a second Harry might join them both.

"Jesus Christ," you exhale quietly, "this is fucked."

Your mom, noble as ever, does her best to step in and peel your daughter off the floor to bring an end to the (literal) swan song. Even now you have to admire the theatrics and flare for drama. She's truly emulating her father.

Her father, who is in an isolated frenzy in his attempt to asses every possible way to rectify this nightmare. Harry's not afraid to go low and opt for the last possible resort.

"Button," he exclaims, like he's just conjured up the best idea of his life, "she got y'a gift! A super big, really fun, totally awesome gift!"

The wailing comes to a slowed stop before an altogether halt. With eyes still watery and cheeks stained with tears, she peels herself up from the floor in what feels like slow motion until she's level with Harry. And she looks up at him with those eyes and that look - the one that you know will have Harry in the palm of her little hand in a matter of seconds.

"A gift?" she says it through a sniffle, "Like.. a barbie?"

She sniffles a few times more in an attempt to collect herself and, God, Harry can't help but fold, "Four barbies!"

And he doesn't care that your face shoots him one of those 'we should discuss this first' looks because she's finally reeling in the crying. And she's finally starting to take to the idea of another baby to share the spotlight with because she goes to lean on your knee now - right next to the baby as a show of solidarity. That's a win to him, even if he had to get there with shameless bribery.

"Harry," you whisper sternly, "remember.. about the gifts... and not spoiling her."

It's like talking to a wall, because he doubles down, "And a new dream house! If y'really sweet t'her, maybe baby sister will buy you tha' little pink limo for 'em too."

"Harry!"

"What?" He shrugs, but quickly evades your glare, "th'limo l'look great with th'house! 'Nd they can't walk everywhere!"

#harry styles fanfiction #dad!harry #harry fanfiction #fanfic #fanfiction #harry styles x you #harry styles x reader #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fic #harry x reader #harry styles blurbs #harry blurb #harry styles one shot

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indigo-casson · 5 months

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something that i've been thinking about lately is the parallels between star wars: andor/rogue one and tamora pierce's trickster's queen duology. primarily because the star wars brainrot is real and the tamora pierce obsession is forever, but also because they are kind of both tonal and thematic departures from their main 'verses in some similar ways?

in both the star wars verse and the tortall verse, the majority of the media has focused on one individual (or a small group of individuals) who make a profound difference in the world. Whether that's alanna singlehandedly finding the dominion jewel/becoming king's champion/making way for female knights, or luke skywalker blowing up the death star, or daine and numair going to the divine realms during the immortals war, or anakin skywalker becoming a sith and dooming the republic, most of the original material has seen battle and political change as something that is affected by either an actual chosen one or simply a single very plucky and well-placed individual.

trickster's queen and andor, however, really look at rebellion as something that has to be done by a diverse group of flawed people who work together despite their differences. mon mothma knows that her role is raising money. ulasim, chenaol, and the other members of the raka conspiracy each take their individual roles in the rebellion, and recognize that even though they might not want to work with aly or the luarin nobility, they need their skills and influence to make it happen.

both stories also show rebellion as extremely costly and something that requires making tough calls. nobody has their hands clean by the end of a civil war. notably, trickster's queen explicitly narrowly avoids having the protagonists kill a group of 5 year olds. luthen is ready to kill cassian when he becomes a liability, and cassian does kill lots of people, including some allies whose only "crime" is being susceptible to giving up rebellion secrets.

in rogue one, we don't like davits draven because he orders jyn's father killed, and that just feels wrong. jyn is our heroine and it upsets her, so emotionally it's distressing. but of course, draven and cassian and jyn are all working towards the same goal. draven did what he had to--galen erso is a liability as long as he's alive. dove and sarai's little brother elsren has to die because he's a direct heir to the throne, ahead of his sisters. it doesn't matter that he's five and totally innocent. as long as he lives, a luarin has a greater claim to the throne than a raka, and as long as that's true, the rebellion can't succeed.

in the star wars original trilogy, people for sure die! i'm not trying to say that they don't, but it's definitely not something that's shown affecting our protagonists on a deep, emotional level. they're all side characters, or else they come back as force ghosts. the prequels are uh. fucking tragic, but at the end of it, almost all of our heroes make it out. even the casualties of the war are droids vs clones, which is to say, totally interchangeable cannon fodder on both sides!

the number of character deaths in the tortall 'verse is fewer, probably because it's primarily created for middle grades, but even when people do die, they're either demonstrably bad people or minor enough characters that the emotional resonance isn't the same.

by contrast, at the end of trickster's queen, almost the majority of the main conspirators die in battle, not to mention those who don't even make it to the final conflict. at the end of rogue one, all of our heroes are dead, and people aren't exactly making it out of andor s1 in good shape either. more than half of the aldhani team dies on that mission.

I could go on further, but I think my main takeaway is that once you've invested a lot of time and attention and fandom into a 'verse, you have a lot more leeway to tell different kinds of stories. tamora pierce could not have written trickster's choice until after the values and world of tortall were so clearly established, and if she had, it wouldn't have had the impact that it did. similarly, part of what makes rogue one/andor so striking is the fact that it is such a departure from the preexisting values and story format of star wars.

for every chosen one we see in media, there are hundreds of people working behind the scenes to make their big, death star destroying moment possible. the only way to improve society is through collective action, and part of that is that everyone's hands are going to get dirty. i think lots of people want to imagine that they could be like luke skywalker and swoop in 2 weeks before the battle of yavin and become a hero, but the fact of the matter is that that's not how the world works! war requires us to do things that would ordinarily go against our values, but in the context of a drawn out, bloody, thankless battle, maybe we decide the ends justify the means.

#analysis #i don't particularly imagine that anyone will read this because it is so niche lmao #but the brainworms wouldn't leave me alone #star wars #long post #tamora pierce #tortall #tricksters queen #andor #rogue one

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morganas-pendragons · 4 months

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ache | fourteen

this got away from me sooooooo quickly, I hope you like it!

The first time you met him, he didn't have to tell you how old he was. You were well versed in reading people. In distinguishing those hidden details between the lines, between the cracks of the person, and recognizing the little things no one else could bother to care about.

You knew he was old. You didn't know he was forever. You didn't know that he'd been running for so long that he'd never allowed himself to learn how to stop. To plant his feet in one place, to inhale, to exhale.

You didn't realize how much he craved you. How he craved you like the oxygen he has not breathed in since Gallifrey. Since the last time he allowed himself to simply exist without having to flee to the next destination.

The Doctor. The man who keeps running, because he dare not look back.

But with you... when he left you...

Oh, he did. You just didn't know.

Kate Lethbridge-Stewart found you in the aftermath of the Doctor's departure. You were sitting on the park bench where the TARDIS had last dropped you off, knees drawn to your chest and eyes blankly staring at the spot in hopes the box would materialize.

It never did. Every time you sat here and thought about it, about him, your chest ached so badly. Like it was seeking the oxygen it had been deprived of.

She'd sat beside you and waited until you turned your head to acknowledge her, "Whatever it is, I'm not interested. I'm waiting for a friend to come back."

There's so little hope in your voice. You know he's not coming back. You know, but you hope, because The Doctor can ease that ache in your chest and breathe that air back into your lungs.

You wish you hadn't been so impressionable. He'd flashed those marvelous brown eyes and that charming smile. That was all it took.

And when he'd laid those bleeding hearts in your hands, you'd let the blood run through your fingers and held them close to your chest. You'd protected them. Cherished them.

And then you'd thrown them back in the TARDIS. Left to fend for themselves. Left to bleed again.

The ache just won't go away.

"Your friend is a notorious runner," Kate remarks. "The likelihood is slim. However, I do have an opportunity for you that you could consider.. where he may show his face sometime soon enough."

You heard her out. She told you about UNIT, about The Doctor and his involvement, and you took the job when she offered it to you.

You saw him from afar multiple times after that. You never saw Ten again, but Ten would see you, parking the TARDIS out of sight multiple times before he changed faces because just seeing you eased the ache in his chest that had settled there when you were gone.

Then the one in the tweed with the bowtie. He was clever. Sweet. Kind. You saw him several times. Marveled at him from afar.

The ache got a little bit easier to deal with.

Then the next one. So much older. Older and angry and lonely and so, so ready to give up. That companion who'd gone with him sought you out the first time they came to UNIT together. Almost like she recognized you.

Turns out, Clara did.

"Hi," You turn to acknowledge the younger woman from your spot at your desk and smile warmly. "My name is Clara. Forgive me for the intrusion, but I have to ask you something."

"Come on in," You wave to the open chair with an empty hand and settle your tablet on your desk. You'd been reading up on the Doctor and all UNIT had gathered on him since you'd joined. There was a lot to sift through. "What can I do for you, Clara?"

"I thought you looked familiar. Then I remembered," She reached into her pocket and pulled out an old photo. You froze instantly at the sight and leaned outward to inspect it. "He's got a picture of you on the console."

It's definitely you. You and Ten and Donna, weeks after you'd joined them on the TARDIS, wrapped in your parkas and Ten in his trench coat on the Planet of the Ood.

"That is me," You whisper. Clara softened as you ran your fingers along the edge of the picture, turning it over to read the inscription on the back. That's Ten's handwriting. It's not yours. It reads, When the ache was gone. "I used to be just like you. I was so..."

Clara waited. She waited, but your voice never came, because then she was saying, "I just wanted you to know something. He talks about you. He hasn't done it a lot, but you're the only one he's got a photograph of on the console. I see the way he looks at it. And he's mentioned you a few times. The Doctor told me once that he's been in pain since you've been gone. And I don't think it's going to stop."

And then she's gone, and you're on your own again. She didn't even leave you the photo. She just leaves you to collect your thoughts and the fact that The Doctor has not been able to move on from you.

Silent tears track down your face. You would give anything to touch him. To hold him, to run your thumbs reverently under those ancient eyes, and just... tell him how loved he is.

But you can't.

He keeps running away.

***

He stops cold when he sees you inside of Unit HQ. You're standing there behind Shirley, so beautiful, and so very alive. He's only just come back from Soho.

From the Toymaker. From the nightmare, from the constant reminding that he failed you, failed them, failed all of them. All the ones who died.

"We hired Y/N as a liaison. Turns out hiring your companions has proven to be quite beneficial. They are something of experts, after all."

And then there's Mel, and it's all just too much because there are so many people in this room who love him. He doesn't deserve that love. There's too much weakness in this room. His hearts are bleeding everywhere and The Toymaker knows his weaknesses.

The Doctor will not let the ache infect him again. Not when you're standing less than three feet away from him for the first time in fifteen years.

You have no time to react before he's in front of you, and you can smell him, and he's everywhere and his fingers are lacing with yours.

Something shifts inside of your chest.

"I have so much to answer for," He murmurs lowly enough only for the two of you to hear. "And I know there's no universe in which you don't hate me for what I did-"

His whole affect shifts into something of despair when you step forward to fill the gap between you and grip his chin between your thumb and finger. There's so much pain in those eyes now. Pain from inevitable losses, pain from what he's done to you, pain from existence.

You just want to take his ache away. If you're going to do anything with the precious amount of time you two have, you are going to take those bleeding hearts back into your hands and fix them. And then you are going to hold him.

You are going to hold him with your bloody hands - because when does anyone who is ever associated with The Doctor not have blood on their hands? - and refuse to ever let him go.

It makes your ache less. It makes your pain less.

"There won't ever be a single instance in which you could make me hate you," You admit. "And you will have all the time in the world to tell me why you made me leave."

"The Toymaker. He... He preys on weaknesses. He will know. He always knows."

And it's on that moment that you see something you almost never saw with his Tenth face: Fear. He is terrified. That unnerves you.

Without thinking, you stand on your tiptoes and cradle his face in your hands as you kiss his forehead. It's tender. Reverent. Mel and Donna try not to gape as The Doctor leans in closer and remains there until you pull apart.

"Then don't let him," You say firmly. "And you go out there and you win."

***

"I'm all sonic and Timelord. Take that away... what am I? What am I now?"

Donna is reminded of one of the earliest trips she'd ever taken with Ten. Among the very first where she'd realized that he had fallen in love with you. There's faint memories of Pompeii, of the aftermath, when you'd followed The Doctor into the console room after he'd stormed in there asking the same question.

That time you'd answered him with all the gentleness she answers him now, "Take that all away, and you're still a good man."

The few moments that you get alone with Donna give her the opportunity to fill you in on what she'd learned from being inside The Doctor's mind. She tells you about Eleven and Twelve and Thirteen, about the ones who died, about The Flux. You hear all of it.

What makes the ache unbearable is the fact that when Ten died, he died alone. And that's the worst part.

Because you'd broken your promise that he'd never be alone again. Despite the fact he'd forced you out, you'd failed him.

And now here you stood.

"Hey," Donna's hand rests on your shoulder as your eyes flicker over to the Doctor, who now stands mere feet in front of the Toymaker. "You'll be with him soon enough."

Seconds after she says it, the air is pierced by a scream as the galvanizing beam activates, and it is shot straight through The Doctor. Mel's hand is going white from how hard you are gripping it.

"I played one game with the first Doctor, the second game with the second Doctor, and I will play the next game with the next Doctor!" The Toymaker exclaims boldly.

You don't realize you're the one screaming until the beam turns off.

He falls to his knees. The last time he'd done that that you had seen was when you walked out of the TARDIS. Defeat. Resignation.

You wait for the regeneration energy to appear. You're about to lose this face, again, and there's not a single thing you can do about it. Not until Donna's voice speaks up again and shouts, "He's not dying alone!"

"You can do what you like to me," You're speaking before you can stop yourself. "But I'm going to be with him. I keep my word. And I won't fail him again."

Mel nods her confirmation to both remarks. You steel your expression as you pursue Donna and Mel toward the Doctor. You cannot be falling apart right now. The ache is not allowed to consume you when it is him who is about to die, to change, to become another man.

Everything in the world around you disappears when you meet those eyes. Those kind, sad eyes that have always looked at you with such reverence and devotion. Those are the eyes of a man who you would burn the galaxies and all within it if it gives him some peace.

The words are on his tongue, so ready to be said. The ache has made the weight of keeping those words to himself unbearable.

He knows though. In that moment, he knows. He will love you eternally. No matter the face.

"It's okay," You say confidently. "It's okay."

"It's not dying."

"But you're going to be someone else." Mel interjects. The Doctor's eyes travel between the three of you. His former companion, his best friend, and his love. "It doesn't matter who. 'Cause every single one of you is fantastic."

He meets your eyes head on, and you rest a singular hand between his hearts.

"Here we go again," He murmurs. "Allonsy."

***

There are two of them. Two Doctors. The older one, the newer one, wears something you've never seen on The Doctor. He wears the mark of acceptance. Or peace.

Probably both.

But the way he looks at you? Oh, the way he looks at you. It's like he knows something that you and the younger Doctor don't know. When The younger Doctor and Donna approach the newest Doctor after the Toymaker is defeated, you stay behind to let them have their moment.

Until Fifteen looks back and motions you forward the second Fourteen's head falls into the crook of his neck. He already knows. He already knows, and he’s asking you to come step in. To be his sanctuary.

You suck in a breath and approach, bridging the gap between The Doctor and Donna to tenderly run your hand up his spine. He can’t see you. He can’t see you, but you can see him, and his entire being trembles at your touch.

“How many people died?” Fourteen asks again. You swallow the knot in your throat and meet the older Doctors dark gaze, to which he winks at you and gently turns his younger self around so that way his face is buried in your neck instead.

“They’re right.” You whisper, threading your fingers through the hair at his nape as he pulls you impossibly closer. The older Doctor presses a finger to his lips and tugs on Donna’s arm to give the two of you a moment of privacy. “It’s not your fault. None of this, none of the ones who died, are your fault. You want to know why?”

He allows you to lift his head from the crook of your neck. Your fingers trace the curve of his jaw until you’re cupping it in your hands, and the urge to kiss him until the ache disappears has never been stronger.

The Doctor asks with such a hesitation that is so unlike him, "Why?"

And it's then that you realize: For all the time this lonely harbinger of death and destruction has existed, when was the last time he stopped? When was the last time he lived?

"Because we choose to. We choose you. There were so many of us, so many of us who wanted something better then the simplistic life we get here on Earth."

The Doctor shakes his head. "Humans are not and have never been simple-" You press a finger to his lips and quirk a brow, playfully daring him to continue.

"You come and urge us away in that brilliant little box of yours with promises of a better life. An exciting life. Regardless of the dangers to ourselves, we always take it, because of you. We take you in all that you are even when the Oncoming Storm dares to rear his ugly head. Ancient. Timeless. Infinite," You tenderly run a thumb under his eye. "You love so much... but don't let yourself be loved in return. You don't let yourself be thanked. That's why. We love you because you're selfless, because you're you."

The Doctor hates how wrong you are. He wants to believe those things about himself, but he is by nature a selfish man.

"You are too good to me." He whispers in your ear, lips brushing your temple. You hum thoughtfully and reach under his vest to playfully squeeze his hips.

"Because you're deserving of goodness too, my love."

In the doorway behind you both, The older Doctor smiles. This is exactly the thing, the people, that his younger self needs to heal from all that damage. All that pain and loneliness.

And eventually, he too will wear the mark of peace that this new body has been granted.

***

"Do you know why I think this face came back? So you could stop. So you could come home."

The Doctor has been absently sipping at his drink for the greater part of thirty minutes as he basks in the sunlight and the joy from the group gathered around the table. Mel is just barely leaning into him, enough for her warmth to seep through the fabric of his shirt, and Donna is grinning brightly as Rose tells the story of when The Doctor took her to Mars.

In the distance, Wilf's shotgun goes off as he misses yet another mole attempting to emerge from its burrow.

It is the most peace he's had in millennia.

"Hey," Donna's voice softly calls from his left as she nudges his side with her elbow. "Where did you go?" Ten had this blank look of devastation and haunting that he wore quite often when she'd ask him a question about his past, or about where he'd come from. He lived in his memories. Memories about Gallifrey. About his companions.

This time though, it's you.

Before he can properly reply to Donna, there's a voice shouting from inside the house. His brow furrows. All of the family is outside. So who-

"Donna! For God's sake, why does your house have little to no counter space? There's only four of you! Where am I supposed to put this food?"

The Doctor sucks in a sharp breath. "Is that-"

"Don't worry, I didn't say a word," Donna assures. "But yes. Now go."

She says it with such demand that he has no choice but to trust her and stands to his feet. The Doctor wiggles his toes in the damp, warm grass and takes his empty glass inside to refill it.

There you are. Right there, in all your splendor, muttering curse words under your breath as you work to create space for the desert you'd brought at Donna's request. He's at a loss for words.

That's a first.

"Donna, if you're just standing there gaping-" You whip around and lift an accusatory finger, eyes wide as The Doctor's gaze flickers down and back up to yours playfully. "Doctor."

"Hi."

"What are you doing here? I thought you'd have flown away by now."

Be brave, Doc. Be brave.

Your eyes follow the path of his hands as one comes to rest on your jaw, then the other, until you find yourself drawn impossibly close and only mere inches from his lips. "Between you, Donna and my older self... Think I figured it out."

"Figured what out?"

The Doctor's fingers tangle in your hair then and tip your head upwards. "Why I was coming home," He whispers. "The long way around."

The sigh of relief that escapes from both of you as the ache finally, finally leaves makes all of the pain worth it. All the heartache. The loneliness.

It's all worth it if he gets this.

"I love you." The Doctor murmurs as you pull apart. The smile that rewards him could rival the brightness of Gallifrey's suns, and he thinks he might be able to do this kind of life after all if it means he gets to see that smile. Forever.

"I love you too." You reply, resting a single hand on his chest. "The ache..."

"What?"

"The ache." You breathe. "It's gone. Guess I must've needed a Doctor to fix me up."

Donna turns her head to gaze at the open kitchen doors as laughter pours through, and The Doctor emerges with you carried on his back. You take your place in his lap easily enough once he sits down.

Yeah. The amnesia.. the missing years, the adventures... It had all been worth it.

Those bleeding hearts that have spent millennia broken still beat, messy stitches holding as they take their rest within their cage.

Healed. Fixed.

No longer aching.

#fourteenth doctor x reader #fourteen x reader #doctor who imagines #doctor who oneshots #doctor who spoilers #doctor who

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dreamidoodles · 1 year

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this mistake must’ve happened more than once (for sorikuweek2021) twit. 12.07.21.

#dreamidoodles #departure verse #sorivani #soriku #rikuvani #sora #vanitas #riku #post canon verse #comic

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shakingparadigm · 7 days

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Speaking of Guardians, I'm just going to make a list on the information I have on the ones associated with the main cast so far.

Note: the information here is mostly from official material (patreon interviews, merch, the videos themselves etc) but some portions of it are my own assumptions based on this information as well.

Mizi -> Guardian Shine

Guardian Shine is a prominently pink and white alien that wears a peaceful expression and bears resemblance to certain aquatic creatures, most predominantly associated with the jellyfish. Their body largely consists of floaty pink frills.

Guardian Shine is the only alien of the main cast that is explicitly stated to have a close and loving relationship with their human pet, treating Mizi like a "daughter" and ensuring that she is happy and well-provided for.

Guardian Shine created Mizi's performance dress for ROUND 1.

It seemed that whenever Mizi accomplished something good in the Anakt Garden, she would become ecstatic and excited to tell Guardian Shine about her victories.

Sua -> Guardian ???

Not much is known or seen about Sua's Guardian (the information isn't public, at least), but from the glimpses we see in MIZISUA, her Guardian is a rather luxurious and feminine alien with clawed, ring-laden hands and a lower half akin to a flower-patterned dress. It seems as though they are wearing a pale-colored fur coat.

In the disc:mizisua artbook, its stated that Sua was raised by influencers, which seems to be why her Guardian is dressed so lavishly.

Sua's Guardian did not particularly care for her, only raising her as a means to "show off".

While Guardian Shine warmly entertains Mizi before her departure, Sua's Guardian has their back turned and is instead busied with an interview (as seen by the alien holding the microphone next to them).

Because Sua's Guardian didn't care for her and only raised her for public image, they dressed Sua in doll-like clothes without care as to how it would fit her. The book states that despite it's lovely look, Sua's dress was stuffy and ill-fitting.

Till -> Guardian Urak

Guardian Urak (in earlier iterations) is a humanoid alien with a predominantly white color scheme, most recognizable by a covered upper face and floating chair. (I highly suspect the alien from ROUND 6's first verse to be the new Guardian Urak design, but I could be wrong.)

Similar to Sua's, Guardian Urak seems rather neglectful and maybe even physically abusive to Till, as seen by the multiple bruises left on him even before he's thrown at the wall. If the head alien in ROUND 6 is confirmed to be Urak, this is further proven by the first few scenes.

In an interview for a magazine portion of ROUND 2, Guardian Urak is shown to be easily dismissive of Till's misbehavior as long as it garners them a win.

Guardian Urak believes that a human's bizarre behavior is synonymous with their talent. "The more talented humans, the more likely they are to be freaks." Urak apologizes for Freddie's murder on Till's behalf, but doesn't seem to care about it beyond the surface level.

Urak barely seems to invest much into Till, at least not as much as the other Guardians do for their own pets. Till's stage in ROUND 2 is the most plain, unlike the other rounds where the stages are unique and decorated with different designs and lights. Till's outfits are also the most plain among the cast.

Ivan -> Guardian ???

Ivan's Guardian is a large, slightly Cthulhu-like alien dressed in dapper clothing, which many fans find akin to that of a mafia boss. They are dressed in colors of mainly red and black, a color scheme that their followers seem to align with as well.

Ivan's Guardian is well-known in alien society. Due to this, Ivan makes sure to behave carefully and properly while out in public as not to sully their name.

It also seems as though they are incredibly wealthy, seemingly involved in a business of some sort.

Ivan describes the relationship with his Guardian to be more like a business partnership rather than something parental.

Ivan's Guardian seems to have invested a lot into Ivan's success. Adopting him from the slums, cleaning him and remaking his image from a lowly slum child to one of the most famous, talented, and influential humans of the current season. Ivan states in an interview that he will always be grateful to them for taking him in.

Due to the investment, Ivan's performances are always of high quality, his costumes intricately made and his stages flamboyantly themed.

Since their relationship stands on business, it's most likely that Ivan was able to connect and partner with several brands due to his Guardian.

Ivan's relationship with his Guardian seems mutual, Ivan himself states it's "not bad". His Guardian provides him with what he needs to succeed and in return Ivan is obedient and always excels at what he's assigned to do. It seems as though Ivan's Guardian is often pleased with him, patting his head when he passes preliminaries and gathering other aliens to celebrate. One of the aliens even presents a bouquet of flowers, clapping their hands together.

Luka -> Guardian Heperu

Guardian Heperu is an alien with a round, squat head, bulging eyes and a pronounced neck. They seem to don a robe of some sort, paired together with a small hat.

Guardian Heperu seems to be yet another influential figure in alien society, possessing the resources necessary to invest in Luka's intensive training.

They also ensure that Luka's performances are always phenomenal, going so far as to rent out a special site for ROUND 5 (iirc, they performed ROUND 5 on the corpse of a large and powerful alien, hence the spine and bones you can see in the back of certain shots).

Guardian Heperu is an extremely envious figure who wished for a pet to trump all others, to stand above all the competitors unmatched.

Luka's unnatural conception and strict training is a result of Heperu's insecurity, the need to remain at the top constantly. Perhaps this desire ended up seeping into Luka as well.

Luka never fought back against the aliens, most likely because Heperu conditioned him to be the epitome of performative perfection since birth. How Luka interacted with his fellow humans was irrelevant, what mattered was how he interacted with the aliens who's opinions were of far greater worth. This may be why Luka seemed to be an outcast in the Anakt Garden yet a beloved prince in the eyes of the alien audience.

Luka directly refers to Heperu as "Father".

Hyuna -> Guardian ???

So far, Hyuna is the only character without even a sliver of alien connection. It makes sense, of course. She cut herself off from everything so long ago.

However, a sketch of Hyuna's alien was drafted all the way back during the production of Sweet Dream.

I'm not gonna spoil anything, but let me just say that's one hell of an alien.

Hopefully we get to see them soon!

#alnst #alien stage #alien stage guardians #idk how to tag this help

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allythistle · 9 days

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Boromir’s last stand 😫

I’ll be honest, I was pretty nervous when I saw that most of you voted for me to draw Boromir next. I’ve been trying not to base my designs too much on the movie versions and have instead been relying on the descriptions in the books, or my own imagination - but film Boromir is just so much better than the one in the books! I decided to base his look more on movie Boromir (although I did make his tunic shorter because a longer one was making an action pose so difficult to draw) but you will notice that I also gave him a shield.

Of course, in the movie, Boromir doesn’t have his shield on him when he dies at Osgiliath. I couldn’t remember if this was the case in the books, so I re-read that chapter before starting this piece, and found that he did have it with him but it was broken during his last battle with the orcs.

In the scene where Boromir's funeral boat is described, his shield is not mentioned among the items placed about him :

“Now they laid Boromir in the middle of the boat that was to bear him away. The grey hood and elven-cloak they folded and placed beneath his head. They combed his long dark hair and arrayed it upon his shoulders. The golden belt of Lorien gleamed about his waist. His helm they set beside him, and across his lap they laid the cloven horn and the hilts and shards of his sword; beneath his feet they put the swords of his enemies.’’

However, we *do* learn in Aragorn's second verse of his departure song what became of Boromir’s shield:

“Beneath Amon Hen I heard his cry. There many foes he fought.

His cloven shield, his broken sword, they to the water brought.”

What I found interesting was that the broken sword and horn were sent down the river with Boromir but that his broken shield was not. I did some research and learned that an average shield would be so commonly broken in battle that these typically were not named and passed down in the manner that swords were.

Anyway, I really hope you like this little drawing. I had fun with this piece.

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jinhyun · 8 months

Text

↬part two

"then I think about summer, all the beautiful times

i watched you laughin' from the passenger's side"

pairing: hwang hyunjin x reader

genre: written series, angst, fluff, friends to lovers to exes to lovers, she fell first but he fell harder, yearning, mutual pining, non-idol au, baker!y/n, movie producer!hyunjin.

word count: 11.3k

warnings: y/n has self-sabotaging tendencies, cursing, mentions of alcohol, eventual smut, mature content, MINORS DNI!!!

tag list: open. send me an ASK to be a part of it, otherwise i might miss it. i will only be adding people who are willing to reblog the chapters and/or comment on them, because it does take time out of my day to tag everyone and likes or straight up cricket noises do nothing for me in return if i'm honest.

a/n: helloo, it's been a long time but here we are again with a new part. this turned out longer than i expected and i apologise, but i wanted to mainly show how these two got together and how it was that things started off for them, as well as how the dynamic of their friend group used to be before everything went down. in other words, and as you can see in the verse of the song i quoted, this part's gonna be more on the fluffy side (but not completely lol), so i hope you enjoy this small part of their story!

feedback is very dearly appreciated<3

You had never been a big fan of packing, but you were quite excited about the trip with your friends the next day. To be honest, you did not used to be a big fan of camping either, until that first year in college when summer came and Jeongin mentioned this one place he and his family used to go camping when he was little.

Everyone was so excited about it that you couldn't say no. Seungmin wouldn't have let you miss out on it and abandon him anyway.

And, in the end, you were glad you hadn't stayed home instead. It turned out to be a really precious bonding time for all of you, to the point that you all agreed to make it a summer vacation tradition — every single year of college, without missing a beat, all eleven of you would drive outside the city and ventour into the forest to have what you liked to call your much needed healing time.

Although the entirety of your friend group had graduated college last year, you had promised to keep making time for your yearly camping trip.

Minji hadn't been able to keep that promise that particular year, given she got an internship in the States and had left a little over a month and a half before summer started. She had promised over and over before leaving that she would most definitely make it next year, and you were all counting on that.

You were sad that she wouldn't make it, for now you would only have Hyejin to fight the potentially annoying male species you'd be hanging out with.

And there was also the fact that you thought Hyunjin wouldn't feel like going anymore. Sure, he would go, for he had promised and he loved spending time with all of you, but a part of you believed he wouldn't be the same since Minji wouldn't be there — that he wouldn't be as eager about the trip as he always was.

It was the way he hugged her and visibly didn't want to let go when you had all gone to send her off and she was about to walk through security. After witnessing that, you had convinced yourself that Hyunjin wouldn't be himself until she came back.

You had decided to give him space. You knew you'd be the same if you ever lost Seungmin, and that without being in love with him.

It would be good for you, too. Giving Hyunjin space and letting him find himself without his beloved best friend meant not seeing him for a while, and therefore, finally being able to focus on moving on from your stupid crush on him.

Only that you wanting to give him space didn't exactly mean he wanted to take that space away from you. So you knew when not even a week after Minji's departure he was calling you up to hang out.

Most of your friends would be there, minus Felix and Hyejin, who had already made plans alone, so you accepted. It had started out just like that, at least — hanging out with your group of friends, the way you always had. But now his attention was only on you, and his eyes would oh-so-naturally fix on you like it was their default target.

It didn't stop there. Hanging out with everyone else yet only focusing on you turned into making plans for just the two of you. You had been ecstatic the first time he asked you out — as friends, of course. He had a shitty day at work and wanted to go out for some coffee, but he didn't feel like being around a large group of people. You accepted in a heartbeat, so happy about getting to spend some time alone with him that you completely forgot about the whole 'getting over him' goal you had going on.

So happy to finally get the attention you wanted from him, that you didn't stop for one second to think whether he would be asking you to get some coffee with him if Minji were still here.

But it didn't matter, because one coffee date turned into two, and then two turned into three. Friendly dates turned into 'oh, maybe this is not so friendly' ones. Sunset walks turned into watching movies at either one of your places. Late night calls on the days you didn't get to see each other turned into texting all throughout the day, every day; which led to getting goodnight and good morning text messages with definitely-not-so-friendly hearts attached to them.

Just like that, Hyunjin was just as eager as every other year to go on this trip. And you? God, you couldn't wait for the day to arrive so you could spend even more time with him. You were mainly expectant of the bonfire at night — you had always loved the way the fire illuminated his factions from afar. He always managed to look extra cozy and your heart would flutter with every single glimpse. This year, though, you hoped you'd get to sit next to him, and maybe, if you were lucky enough, you'd get to share a blanket with him; as childish as it sounded.

Your daydreaming got interrupted by your phone buzzing on your night table, making you jump from your bed to pick it up and then feel your heart do a backflip when you read Hyunjin's name on the screen.

Fixing your hair as fast as you could and making sure your face looked presentable enough for him to see, you answered his video call.

"Hey, cutie" he greeted as soon as your face was visible on the screen.

You smiled timidly, feeling the heat reach your cheeks at the sound of that simple pet name. "You do realise it's midnight, don't you?"

"You answered anyway" he smirked triumphantly, earning a roll of eyes from you. "Why? Did I wake you?"

"No," you shook your head, looking down to your packed bag on your bed. "I was kinda going through everything I needed to pack, to make sure I won't forget anything".

"Well, in case you forgot to pack mosquito repellent like last year, I'm glad to inform you I've kindly packed some for you".

A small, breathy laugh escaped your mouth. "Why, thank you" you brought a dramatic hand to your chest. "Did I really traumatize you last year for that to be the first thing to come to mind when packing for me?"

"I wouldn't say traumatized…" he mumbled, looking down to what you guessed was his bag, as he unzipped it. "But you did make me so fucking worried when you came out of your tent that morning all covered in mosquito bites, so…"

Watching him show the repellent bottle to the camera, you couldn't help the throaty laugh that ran past your mouth this time, hearing him follow along the moment the sound you made reached his ears.

"You really didn't have to…"

"Did you remember to pack it this time?" he tested you.

"No, but—but," you quickly emphasized at the sight of his daring eyes. "Minnie always brings some. I was just too lazy to go up to his tent at night when I realised I hadn't asked him for it last year. I didn't think it would be that bad".

"Well, now you've got your own personal bottle of it" he pointed out, stuffing it back into his bag. "So no need to go to his tent if you forget to ask him for it again".

Too enchanted by that thoughtful act of service of his, you didn't realise you were staring until he blushed and cleared his throat.

"What?" he shyly asked.

"Huh?" you snapped out of it.

"I don't know, I… you weren't like, saying anything and—"

"Oh, no, I just…" you felt your cheeks burn once again. "Thank you. You're cute".

He laughed breathily, almost inaudibly. "I'm cute?"

"You know what I mean" you glared.

"I'd like to think you mean something else, though…"

You needed to take a deep, rather shaky, breath at that. Keeping yourself composed was not an easy thing to do when he said things like that.

"So, um… What were you calling for?"

He shrugged, letting you get away with your change of subject and lying back on his mattress. "Just wanted to talk to you".

"At midnight?" you raised an eyebrow.

"Got a problem with it?"

"Not really," you chuckled. "But we're seeing each other in a couple of hours, in case you forgot".

"Oh, I'm well aware of it," he nodded, tiredly placing an arm over his eyes. "Still wanted to talk to you before going to bed".

"Clingy" you teased.

The smile that curved up the corners of his plump lips made you wish you were there with him, lying your head on his chest and playing with his hair, instead of having to settle down for seeing him through a screen.

"It's gonna be a different trip this time around, huh?" you mumbled after a few seconds in which silence had taken over.

"Yeah…" he agreed quietly, removing his arm from his face and lying on his side. "It's gonna be weird without Minji".

You hummed in response. "I'll only have Hyejin to fight you guys now, and that's when she and Lix aren't all over each other".

"You'll have me, though" he smiled innocently.

You snorted. "Please, you'd drop me in a heartbeat to join the guys when they pick on me".

"That is so not true" he argued, squinting his eyes at you.

"I guess we'll see what happens when the time comes," you taunted him. "You think you'll still be able to have as much fun?"

"You mean without Minji?"

You nodded silently, bracing yourself for the answer you didn't want to know yet had not been able to stop yourself from asking about.

"Sure," he nodded confidently, making your heart feel at ease. "I've got you, it's gonna be just as fun".

"You think so?" you whispered.

"Of course!" he reassured you. "Let's go in the same car tomorrow, we can sit together and share earphones".

"I'm taking Changbin's car" you pointed out.

"Cool," he nodded. "I'll let him know I'm taking his too, then".

"No but, you know what that means, right?"

His eyebrows furrowed in confusion. "Not really…"

You chuckled. "It means he'll make me go on the passenger seat so I can lead the way for him, since he always seems to miss the entrance to the camping site".

"Can't he have someone else to do it?"

"He doesn't really trust any of the guys when it comes to giving directions," you shook your head. "And I respect him for it, honestly. Last time we had Felix give out directions we nearly ended up in Busan".

He puffed his cheeks cutely, in a way that had your heart melting in a second. "Good thing Airpods are a thing then. We can still share".

"And miss Binnie's carpool?"

"You know what, if you hate me just say so".

A throaty laugh escaped your mouth at his salty remark, staring at him through the screen in such a loving way that for a second there you feared he would realise your feelings for him.

"I guess we can share Airpods" you rolled your eyes in amusement, having him happily laugh under his breath. "Don't be too surprised when I start singing along to whatever Binnie's playing on the radio, though".

"I will feel slightly neglected but I get it" he sighed overdramatically.

Covering the yawn coming out of your mouth with your hand, you sleepily stared at him on the screen. "We should go to sleep now…"

"Are you trying to get rid of me now?"

"I'm sleepy..."

"But you look so cute like that" he cooed.

"It's nearly one in the morning, Hwang Hyunjin" you tried your best to sound stern and hide your smile. "We leave at seven".

"Alright," he sighed once more, closing his eyes. "I guess I'll see you tomorrow then?"

You nodded, a small smile making its way on your face. "See you tomorrow, Hyunie".

He smiled blissfully. "See you tomorrow, cutie".

-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-♡

"Can we stop to get some food?" Seungmin asked from the backseat.

You laughed over Changbin's heavy sigh next to you. It had only been half an hour since you left Seoul, and there was still another hour to go, yet you couldn’t say you were entirely surprised over your best friend’s request.

The trip had been smooth so far, way too smooth — Changbin and Jeongin loudly singing to any song that came on the playlist being the only sense of disruption in the car. You remained silently staring out the window, lightly bopping your head to the beat of the music coming from the Airpod you were sharing with Hyunjin. It was a funny contrast, having Binnie and Innie singing at the top of their lungs to nothing but upbeat songs, while Hyunjin and you listened to slower, calmer ones and quietly stared at the passing scenery outside.

The somewhat balanced atmosphere you all had managed to create was just bound to be disrupted by your best friend at some point.

"I asked you all if you wanted to stop for food before hitting the highway and you said you wanted to have breakfast at the camping site".

Seungmin pouted, childishly sinking against his seat and crossing his arms over his chest. "I wanted to live the full camping experience, but I take it back now, I'm hungry".

"Well, too bad because I'm not stopping until we get there".

Hearing Seungmin whine behind you in what sounded more like a tantrum, you couldn't help but laugh, staring at him through the rearview mirror before your eyes unconsciously fixed on Hyunjin by the window. He was laughing over your best friend's scene too, and his eyes were already on you. You held his stare through the reflection for a moment, enjoying the sight of his smile and the sound of his giggle before you looked down in a poor attempt to calm your racing heart.

Clearing your throat, you reached down to the backpack by your feet and rummaged through it until you found the snacks you had packed that morning before heading out, precisely in case something like this happened.

Without a word, you reached your hand behind your seat, giggling to yourself when you felt the pack of cookies being snatched from your hold not even a second later.

"You're the best, I swear to God" Seungmin managed to say with his mouth already full. "You better be selling these at our coffee shop once we open it".

You chuckled. "I will".

"Wait, those are homemade?" Jeongin asked from the middle seat.

"Mhm…" you nodded, leaning slightly back when he peeked his head through your seat.

"You have more?"

"Take some from Seungm—"

"No way, they're mine" Seungmin growled.

Rolling your eyes, you leaned down to your backpack once more, defeatedly looking for another bag of cookies you had thankfully packed as well.

"These are double chocolate chips," you let Jeongin know as you handed them to him. "Please share them with Hyunjin in case he wants some".

"I do want some!" he stated from behind, having your amused eyes instinctively fix on him through the rearview mirror, right as he eagerly dug his hand into the bag.

"And what about me?" Changbin whined. "You all are lucky I care about your lives and can't just turn around and snatch them from you right now".

You chuckled, reaching your hand behind your seat, and opening your palm. "Minnie".

The sound of his name coming out of your mouth was all it took for a single cookie to be reluctantly placed on it.

"Here," you called Changbin's attention, motioning for him to open his mouth.

"Is it red velvet?" he asked, opening his mouth and taking a bite regardless, as he was ready to eat whatever it was you decided to feed him.

As soon as he tasted them, he dramatically threw his head back and hit the border of the steering wheel.

"Fuck! They're so good".

You laughed, lightheartedly shaking your head at his reaction. Not even ten seconds later, he was opening his mouth again and leaning slightly over your side for you to feed him the remaining of the cookie you had managed to get from Seungmin.

Having fed him and watching him happily munch on it, you leaned back against your seat, closing your eyes to go back to listening to Hyunjin's playlist like you had been doing before this whole cookies situation took place — only for Traitor by Olivia Rodrigo to start playing.

Almost jumping from your seat, you turned around, staring at Hyunjin in utter disbelief while your jaw comically dropped.

"You did not just do that" you accused him.

He chuckled, staring down with a proud smirk at the unlocked phone in his hands as he seemed to look for another song. His point had already been made.

"What happened?" Jeongin wondered.

"Nothing, Hyunjin's just an idiot" you replied, tauntingly squinting your eyes at Hyunjin, only for his smile to grow.

"At least I'm not a traitor" his smile turned into a cynical smirk.

"A traitor why?" Seungmin's eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

"Who's a traitor?" Changbin joined in.

"It's nothing" Hyunjin brushed it off, his eyes never leaving yours.

"Oh, so you guys have reached the internal jokes stage now?"

"Shut up…" you felt the heat reach your face, turning around to sit properly and look ahead to the road.

Olivia’s voice stopped being heard, and it was replaced by Lauv’s, as I Like Me Better began to play. You looked down to your lap and tried to contain your smile. It had been ages since you last listened to that song, and a part of you, the delusional one that was head over heels for Hyunjin, wanted to believe he was dedicating it to you right then.

Looking out the window when you managed to conceal your blissfulness and everyone seemed to already be back in their own world, you decided to just focus on the road and stop giving too much thought to the song choice of his throughout the ride. He was using a playlist after all.

Nevertheless, you couldn’t help your mind from wandering and daydreaming all the way to the camping site, making it hard for you to focus on your duty as the designated human GPS.

You weren't sure if Changbin was right about you and Hyunjin having reached the 'internal jokes stage' yet, but you realised later that day that you had definitely reached some kind of complicity. You couldn't put your finger on when along the journey of the two of you growing closer it happened, but now your eyes would naturally lock whenever someone said anything slightly funny or even questionable. It was as if you wanted, needed, to share even the most minimal and mundane of things with each other.

And you hadn't noticed it was that obvious to everyone else until Hyejin pointed it out when you were setting up your tent later that afternoon. To say you were struggling a little bit was an understatement; it was a tent for three, and usually Minji was there to help set it up as well. You would definitely have some extra room that night.

Still, as focused on finding the correct corner of the fabric to stake it to the ground as she was, Hyejin managed to bring the topic up.

"So, what's going on with you and Hyunjin?"

"What do you mean?" you frowned, letting go of the fabric you were holding onto.

"Oh, come on, I'm not blind" she squinted her eyes. "Something definitely changed between you two".

"I mean, yeah, but…" you shrugged. “We’re just closer now, I guess”.

“I’ve seen the heart eyes, Y/N”.

“As if my heart eyes for him are anything new”.

“I meant his”.

You went silent, feeling your cheeks heat up and your hands shake. To have someone else notice it, too, only made it feel more real.

“You guys need help?” Felix interrupted before you could try and say anything back.

His arm was naturally resting over Hye’s shoulders, and although she visibly appreciated the offer, she settled for an obnoxious roll of eyes.

“We’re not damsels in danger” she playfully shoved his arm off.

Felix snorted. “Maybe not but you guys are clearly struggling here”.

“I could use some help” you admitted, getting a triumphant smile from Lix before he grabbed the fabric you had let go of a minute ago and began to stake it to the ground.

“But what about our girl talk” Hyejin pouted.

“Girl talk?” Felix looked at her with furrowed eyebrows.

She nodded, and just like that his eyes went to you — realisation hitting him in a second.

“Let me guess, you guys are talking about Hyunjin”.

You nearly choked on air. “We're not”.

"We're not?" Hyejin teased you, receiving a glare from you in a heartbeat.

“Ah, you guys can go on then" Felix nodded understandingly, with a glimpse of a smirk curving up his lips. "I already know all about it anyway".

Hyejin raised both hands up in defense when your glare was once again on her. "Don't look at me, remember he's Hyunjin's best friend after all".

Lix's smirk was now on full display. "I know things neither of you two know".

"There's not much to know, though? Right?" you awkwardly fidgeted in your place. "Hyunjin doesn't talk about me, does he?"

Felix and Hyejin exchanged an incredulous look, deciding right then to just leave it there and let you figure it out on your own. They knew you well enough to know you wouldn’t believe any of it unless you heard it directly from Hyunjin; and maybe even then you would still doubt it all.

“Anyway,” Felix shrugged, going back to his previous task. “Let’s set this shit up”.

“Language!” Hyejin reprimanded him.

You laughed at the exchange, going over to Hyejin so you could work together while Felix focused on the other corner of your tent. Even though you could feel their stares on you, you were just glad the topic seemed to be over with.

-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-♡

Turned out that setting up a tent with Felix and Hyejin was just a call to be kicked out of it as soon as it was done, so they could take a nap inside and just like that make you their third wheel. Not like you really cared, for you took a blanket and placed it under one of the trees that were farther away from everyone.

Lying down on it, you used your arms as a pillow while you looked up to the bright green leaves and the rays of sunshine peeking through them. You truly loved this camping site. It was quiet, with enough space for your entire group and the right amount of distance from other campers in the area.

The grass was green and abundant, the trees provided enough shadow for you not to go mad over how hot the summer weather was, and there was a lake only a five-minute walk from there. You would probably go there a little before the sun set; everyone seemed to be too immersed in their own activities to propose a walk to the lake anytime soon.

Seungmin and Jeongin were still setting up their tent, as they had been too busy whining about having to set it up before to actually do it. Chan, Han and Changbin were drinking and chatting the afternoon away, after having managed to clean up and put everything from your lunch away, since they had been chosen to be on cleaning up duty by a very fair game of rock, paper, scissors. Minho was lying on a blanket a few meters from you, scrolling through his phone. Felix and Hyejin were napping; and Hyunjin… you actually had no idea where Hyunjin was.

“Wanna go to the lake?”

As if reading your thoughts, there he was, kneeling on the edge of your blanket as he patiently waited for your answer.

You tilted your head up to look at him, still a bit stunned over both his timing and his suggestion. Nevertheless, you nodded, not having to think twice before you sat up.

“Are the others coming?”

“Nah,” he shrugged, standing up and giving you a hand to help you up as well. “They said they’re going later”.

“Shouldn’t we wait for them then?” you quietly asked.

Hyunjin brought a dramatic hand up to his chest. “If you don’t wanna be alone with me just say so”.

You scoffed, acting just as offended as he was. “That’s not what I said at all?!”

“Then?” he smiled, tilting his head in the lake’s direction.

Rolling your eyes while the biggest of smiles took over your face, you followed him. He knew the way to the lake by heart, you realised, as he seemed to avoid branches you wouldn’t have noticed were there if it weren’t for him dodging them before you. Although maybe it just had to do with the fact that you were too focused on him to pay attention to your surroundings.

After five minutes in which thankfully you made it out intact, you finally reached your destination. You smiled at the view of the crystalline water and the strong reflection of the sun on it, which you had to look away from in order not to be blinded. It looked the same as every other year, and a part of you was happy it remained the same throughout the time.

“Where are you going?” Hyunjin asked, eyebrows furrowing in confusion when you started walking towards the water.

“To lie down?” you answered, in what had seemed like more of a question.

“Not here” he shook his head.

“Why not?”

“Minho and Changbin are fishing here later”.

“So?”

“So, you know how loud those two are when they get frustrated” he reminded you, walking over to you and taking your hand so he could drag you with him. “I came here to recharge”.

Too stunned over the unexpected feel of his strong yet soft hand holding yours, you didn’t even object. You simply let him take you whenever it was he wanted to take you to — heart eyes stuck to the back of his head as he led the way.

“Recharge?” you mocked him regardless.

"Yeah?" he said, as if it was obvious. "Don't you need time to be alone and recharge after being with too many people for too long?"

"It's not even dinner time yet".

"And I'm already drained".

You chuckled at his tiresome remark, but decided to just leave it at that when you reached a bunch of rocks that blocked the way.

“Where exactly are we going?” you wondered, confusedly letting go of his hand when he began to climb them.

"Come here" he called, reaching his hand out for you.

“You want to lay down on top of these rocks?” you questioned, taking his hand nonetheless and allowing him to help you up. “Like, the view might be better, but I’m pretty sure lying down on sand is way better than lying down on a bunch of hard as hell rocks”.

“Oh, hush,” he amusedly shut you up, placing a gentle hand to your back after having let you go first so he could make sure you wouldn’t slip —and that he would catch you in case you did—. “You just keep climbing up and shut that pretty mouth of yours”.

You shut your mouth; not because he told you to, but because his words sounded lovely —although taunting— enough to bring heat to your cheeks and make you forget how to speak altogether.

He could tell the way you were feeling, you realised when you heard a breathy laugh escape his mouth. He was enjoying it too much, but it was fair, considering he wanted to have that kind of effect on you.

Thankfully, the climb up the rocks wasn’t that high, otherwise the tension taking over while his hand remained on your back and his heavy breathing would faintly hit your shoulder every other second, might’ve become too overwhelming for you to survive.

As soon as you reached the top and took a seat to look around, you were confused. You weren’t sure exactly where it was that he wanted you to go to next or even where to look at once up there, so you just turned around to him with knitted eyebrows as he finished climbing up and took a seat next to you. However, after taking what felt like five seconds to catch his breath, he stood up.

“Okay, now let’s go down” he offered his hand once more to help you up.

“What? Like, to the same place we just came up from?”

He chuckled, amusedly shaking his head before he leaned down to grab your upper arm and help you up. “Will you just trust me on this?”

“I mean, you could be taking me to my deathbed right now and I wouldn’t even know”.

He rolled his eyes, carefully guiding you over to the other end of the rocks, so you could begin your two minutes journey down. “Everyone knows you’re with me right now, wouldn’t be really smart for me to murder you”.

“Reassuring” you smiled cynically, earning a throaty laugh from him and a light —actually reassuring— squeeze from his hand.

Without another word, you let him help you on your way down. It was cute how focused he was on making sure you wouldn’t have trouble with it and wouldn’t get hurt, to the point he tripped at one point; thankfully only right before you reached the safety of the ground, so it didn’t really matter.

"What even is this place?" you breathily let out, turning around to finally take a look at your surroundings.

It was only then that you realised what he had meant by ‘alone’ and ‘recharging’. The place he had taken you to seemed to be another shore within the same lake; a much smaller one, which could comfortably fit around five or six people at most.

The rocks formed some kind of fence around a few meters of the lake, which was tall enough to keep people from seeing what was on the other side, and which made most of them —you included— believe that was all there was to it: Just a bunch of rocks.

Only the curious ones who were willing to climb said bunch of rocks for no apparent reason, like Hyunjin, were privileged enough to discover such a gemstone.

"I don't even know, to be honest" Hyunjin laughed, walking up to the spot close to the water where one of the rocks blocked the sun and provided some shadow. "Found it the first time we came here. Minji and I were taking a walk and I felt like climbing all the way up the rocks and came across this place. I don't think anyone knows about it".

"Well, I surely didn't" you confirmed, looking around in awe. It almost felt cozy, like a small fort you would build as a child. "You and Minji did a pretty good job at keeping it from us".

"Oh, Minji doesn't know about it".

You stopped in your tracks, almost not believing your ears. "She… she doesn't?"

"Nope," he shrugged, sitting down on the sand and patting the spot next to him for you to do the same.

When you hesitated, visibly having a hard time believing him, he sighed.

"Why'd you even believe I told her?"

"I mean… Wasn’t she with you?” you questioned, finally sitting down next to him.

He shook his head no. “She didn’t want to climb up with me. I mean, she was wearing a dress, so I guess it’s understandable” a chuckle abandoned his lips, and a bittersweet smile crept up in yours over the fact that he even remembered what she was wearing on the first day you ever came here years ago. “But yeah, I saw this place from all the way up and just kept it to myself. I could use some peace of mind during these trips”.

“You say it like we’re chaotic as hell” you laughed.

“Aren’t you?” he taunted.

You playfully shoved him away. “You should really include yourself in that sentence, Hwang Hyunjin”.

“Nah, I don’t think I belong there” he denied, having a hard time holding his smile. “Which is why I kept this place all to myself this far”.

You bit your lip, concealing a smile not to show how flattered you were to be the first and only person he had ever shared this place with — for not only had he told you about it, but he had taken it upon himself to pull you away from your group of friends and take you all the way here with him.

“Minji would be so mad if she ever found out you kept this from her…”

Hyunjin shrugged, resting his head on yours and making goosebumps form on your skin. “I don’t have to share everything with her”.

“She’s your best friend, though” you pointed out.

“So?” he asked, sitting up. “Do you share everything with Seungmin?”

You stayed quiet. He had a point. You did mainly share everything with him, from your achievements to your failures, and from your happiness to your sadness. But there were still a few things you kept to yourself, like the way you had felt about Hyunjin all along. Yes, he knew you had a bit of a crush on him, and he also knew you had grown closer since Minji left, but your actual feelings for the guy next to you, he had no idea about.

Your feelings for Hyunjin were something you had decided to keep to yourself and deal with on your own. There was too much at stake, and you wanted to believe you’d have enough control over the situation in case things went south. As long as you didn’t tell anyone, even if it was obvious in their eyes, you liked to believe you would be able to just forget about it all at the snap of your fingers.

Hyunjin nodded to himself at your silence — unaware of what was going through your mind yet knowing that just like that he had proven his point.

“Besides, she’s a blabbermouth. She would’ve told everyone else by now”.

You snorted, looking down for a moment to hold your laughter and missing the way his eyes lit up at the sight of you. "I'm telling her you called her that".

"Ugh, don't tell me I brought a snitch to my precious secret spot" he whined, dramatically resting his head on your shoulder. "Is that all, though?"

"Hm?"

"I was supposed to tell her because she's my best friend?"

“No, but…” you stayed quiet for a moment, pondering whether you should say what was at the tip of your tongue or not. "It's just…"

"What is it?" he straightened up, furrowing his eyebrows as he waited for your answer.

"This is such a stereotypical making out spot".

He snorted, disbelief written all over his face. "What?"

"Yeah, like, think of all the couples that have found this place at some point and used it to do their thing".

"Ew," he cringed, glaring at you right after. "You did not just ruin my favourite spot for me".

"I'm just saying," you laughed, playfully shoving away the accusatory finger of his that was pointing at you. "This is like, the perfect making out spot to bring the person you have feelings for".

"I brought you, didn't I?"

Your cheeks were hit by a rush of heat instantly, and not even lowering your head helped you hide from him what his words had done to you.

"Stop…" you lightly shoved him away with your shoulder. "I guess it caught me off guard that you didn't bring her here at some point since you've always been in love with her".

"In love with her?" He looked incredulous; you just nodded. "I'm not, though?"

"Hyunjin…" you murmured, almost begging for him not try and fool you.

"I haven't always been in love with her…" he mumbled, looking down for a second before his eyes locked with yours. "Definitely am not in love with her anymore".

You smiled bittersweetly. "Right".

"I'm not, Y/N" he reassured you.

"Since when?" you wondered.

He said nothing — simply staring into your eyes was enough for you to have your answer.

Whatever was going on between the two of you was unspoken, recent, and therefore he couldn't give you a proper answer without having it turn out as a confession and risking scaring you away.

He wasn't confident enough to verbally confess the feelings he had caught for you this past month yet, but the sincerity in his eyes had managed to give you the answer you were looking for.

Since she left.

Since you and him grew closer together and something changed in the way he saw you.

"Is a month or so really enough to get over your best friend?" you mumbled.

"It's not like I was head over heels in love with her" he mindlessly played with the sand under his hands. "It was just… a little crush".

You laughed under your breath, shaking your head rather weakly as you laid your back on the sand — mentally scolding yourself for not having brought your blanket with you to lie down on.

A little crush. You should know about it.

You were sure just a little crush wouldn't make him look at her the way he did, and it most definitely wouldn't have him unconsciously call her the most beautiful woman his eyes had ever seen.

But you were done arguing with him. In the end, it changed nothing — he did feel some type of way for her before she left; and even after she left, up until you had come up to change that now, apparently.

Besides, no matter how hard you tried to fight it, a part of you believed him. He looked at you different now. He acted different around you. And although you tried not to fall for it, deep down you knew it was already a lost battle.

Not knowing what to say nor what to feel about his advances, you closed your eyes. You could feel him staring at you for a while, yet you were too shy to acknowledge it, until he finally laid down next to you.

"Are we napping now?" Hyunjin asked, changing the topic after getting the hint about you no longer wanting to talk about the whole feelings thing.

"You said you wanted to come here to recharge, didn't you?" you smiled.

Although your eyes remained closed, you felt him smile brightly next to you. "And napping is your way of recharging?"

"Isn't it yours?"

"I just wanted to come here and spend some time with you, if I'm honest".

At that, you opened your eyes. Much to your surprise, his dark brown ones were already focused on you.

"Thank you…" you smiled sweetly.

He looked confused. "What for?"

"For trusting me with your precious secret spot" your choice of words had him rolling his eyes. "I won't tell anyone about it, I promise".

Hyunjin smiled, no longer being able to hold himself back and throwing an arm around your shoulders. You didn't fight back when he pulled you to his chest, if anything, you made yourself comfortable on it.

"In case it wasn't clear, even if you did tell someone, because I can’t really trust you with Seungmin,” his statement earned an incredulous scoff from you. “You're not allowed to come here with anyone else but me".

You chuckled, shaking your head and closing your eyes once more as you relaxed under his touch. "Would never even dream to betray you like that".

-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-♡

"What took you guys so long?" Chan asked as soon as you and Hyunjin arrived back.

The sun had already set a couple of minutes ago, and you were met with an already lit up bonfire while all your friends sat down around it.

You didn't even have the chance to play your late arrival off by silently sitting down until someone noticed you had finally made it back, for all their eyes were fixed on you since the second you reached your camping spot. Not even the few branches you had collected on your way back, to make it seem like you had wandered off together with the intention to collect some for the bonfire, would help you out of this situation.

Having everyone silently questioning you right then, you came to the conclusion that maybe taking a nap wasn't the brightest of your ideas — not when you were a proper five minute walk from your camping spot and hadn't set up an alarm to wake you up from the dream you were having in the arms of the person your heart felt most at peace with.

Hyunjin shrugged, refraining from giving them an actual answer as he nudged you to walk over to them and throw the thin pieces of wood you had collected into the fire, later taking a seat next to each other by it.

"You know what's funny?" Changbin spoke up next to you, with a hint of a smirk already showing on his face. "I'm pretty sure I saw them walking towards the lake, but when Minho and I got there later they were nowhere to be seen".

Once again, all eyes were on you. This time, though, you managed to see some dropped jaws.

"Did you guys get lost in the woods or something?" Han teased, rapidly moving his eyebrows up and down.

"I'm watching you, Hwang" Seungmin glared at him from the other side of the bonfire, earning a laugh from all of you.

Hyunjin raised both hands up, pleading innocence. "I did nothing".

"Did Y/N do something then?" Changbin teased.

You rolled your eyes, pressing a finger to your mouth "Quiet".

"Is that a yes?"

"Oh, my God" you whined, covering your face with both hands in embarrassment.

“Okay, okay. Leave the lovebirds alone” Hyejin came to your rescue — kind of.

“Have you guys had dinner yet?” you tried to change the subject.

“Nice save” Minho saluted you. “But no, we wanted to hang out here for a bit before. It got pretty cold”.

You nodded, silently. As if on cue, a light, cold breeze hit your body, making you hug yourself instinctively before you leaned closer to the fire and reached your hands out in hopes to get warmer.

Your eyes snapped back towards Hyunjin when you felt him leave your side, watching him go to the tent he was sharing with Lix and get something you could not quite tell apart from the distance, given how dark it was over there. When he got close enough to the bonfire again for you to see what he was holding, however, you smiled.

Before the words ‘thank you’ could even leave your mouth, he was placing a blanket over your shoulders and sitting down next to you.

“Anyone else?” Hyunjin asked, holding out a spare blanket he had brought just in case.

“Me!” Hyejin raised her hand from three seats away, reaching for the blanket Hyunjin was now offering her and then throwing it around her body — in the matter of just one second managing to look like a burrito.

“Gotta step up your game, Felix” Han called him out, shaking his head in feigned disappointment.

“Fuck off” he glared at him, only for his girlfriend to laugh next to him and pull him into her embrace.

Felix smiled in adoration, resting his head on Hyejin’s while he made himself cozy under the blanket she had just shared with him.

“I just got called single in like five different languages” Han sulked.

You laughed at the scene playing in front of you. Well, mainly at Han and his antics, for you could only smile and stare in awe at the lovely couple cuddling right there. They were so happy. They had always been happy together, always so unproblematic, and you could only wish to ever be part of a relationship like that.

You didn’t want that with just anyone, though, and the fact that the person you wanted it with was sitting right next to you did not help your case at all.

It was tough to be craving that much intimacy with someone who was right there, yet things weren’t clear enough between the two of you for you to just go for it.

You wanted to be able to do with Hyunijn what Hyejin had just done with Felix. You wanted to just rest your head on his shoulder and pull him into your embrace. You wanted to be close to him in every way possible, feeling his calm breathing next to you as you enjoyed the sight and warmth of the fire.

And maybe you were overthinking way too much, for sharing a blanket while camping was not that deep and it didn’t precisely have to mean anything, but you just couldn’t bring yourself to offer it to him, because, to you, it was that deep and it did mean something.

Silently staring at him as he had by now joined the new conversation you were not paying attention to, you felt your heart melt at the side view of his bright smile.

You didn't know how many minutes had gone by, but at one point you felt him shiver, and then lean towards the fire just like you had done before, as he looked for the warmth of it.

Looking down to the fluffy fabric hugging your body, you felt guilty to have taken his blanket when he clearly needed it too. You knew it was the chance you had been looking for to offer him to share it and that way cuddle him as platonically as you could, but after giving it a second thought you came to terms with the fact that you didn’t have enough courage to do so. Instead, you offered him the whole blanket.

“Huh?” Hyunjin questioned, taken aback when you took it off and handed it to him.

“You’re cold” you stated the obvious, motioning for him to take it.

“So are you” he pointed out.

“Yeah, but it’s your blanket”.

Hyunjin stayed silent for a couple of seconds, eyes going from you to the blanket in your hands and so on. Then, as if a lightbulb had just been lit up above his head, he smiled.

Taking the blanket from your hands, he threw it over your backs, making sure you’d hold onto the other end before he made himself cozier next to you.

“We can share”.

You bit your lip, lowering your head not to show the effect his actions had once more had on you. How could he make it look so simple? Just throw a blanket over your bodies, pull you closer and then say that you could share, like it was nothing?

A part of you was worried he would feel your heartbeat racing, even though your arm was the one leaning against him and not your chest. It was just beating that hard, and you grew even shyer when your eyes locked with Seungmin’s. Somehow, you felt like one look at you and Hyunjin snuggling up —if you could call it that— was all it took for him to figure everything out.

The crush you had told him about months ago, only then was confirmed right in front of his eyes not to only be one simple crush. And most definitely not a one sided one, like you had claimed it was back then.

“Something wrong?” Hyunjin asked quietly, leaning in towards your ear for only you to hear.

You shook your head no, smiling softly before turning your head to him. “Everything’s fine”.

Perfect, actually.

Hyunjin nodded, moving closer to you and hesitatingly bringing his hand up to hover your back. “Is it okay if I…”

Catching on with his intentions when he lightly tapped your back, you hummed in affirmation; tensing up for a second over the unknown feel of his hand on your waist, before you relaxed under his gentle, loving touch. You were nervous, of course, but it would've been odd for you not to ultimately feel at ease when his thumb began to draw small circles on the curve of your waist.

Maybe you got too carried away, or maybe you simply stopped worrying too much, but you found yourself resting your head on his shoulder — not even having time to doubt your own actions before his head was resting on yours.

As cliché as it was, you wished that moment would last forever. It felt so natural, like your head belonged on his shoulder and his hand belonged on your waist. Like you belonged together.

Your friends had silently agreed on not teasing you anymore; just carrying on with the conversation as if seeing you together like that was by now a daily occurrence.

Hyunjin pulled you closer, and with his lips faintly brushing the crown of your head, you began to doze off.

His phone buzzing in his pocket managed to stop you from falling asleep completely. However, he, too, was so immersed in the comfort your touch and warmth brought him, that he didn't even feel it moving directly against his body.

"Your phone" you quietly brought it to his attention.

"What?"

"Your phone's buzzing" you clarified, lightly pressing your legs to his so he could take a hint.

"Oh, right" he finally got it, earning a small laugh from you as he reached into his pocket and took his phone out. "It's Minji".

You couldn't help it, but your body tensed up.

"Minji?" Han asked quite eagerly.

"Isn't it like six A.M. over there?" Hyejin's eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

Hyunjin shrugged. "She's Facetiming, hold on".

Watching him sit up straight and fix his hair right before taking the call, you moved slightly away from him, putting some distance in between the two of you. That small action of yours didn't go unnoticed by Hyunjin, but he decided to say nothing. It must've been nothing after all, right?

"Hey!" He greeted her cheerfully as soon as her face was on the screen.

"Hello~" Minji answered rather cutely. Your stomach twisted. "How's everyone?"

"Everyone's okay, they're all here, actually" Hyunjin let her know.

That simple statement was all it took for your seats to be taken over by all your friends — all ten of you trying your best to fit on the small screen that Hyunjin was struggling to keep as far as possible from his face, so that everyone could have a look.

Staring at your friend through the screen, you could tell she was just waking up. She was at the other side of the world, after all. But even then, when her hair was still messy and her face was completely bare, she managed to look as endearing as ever.

She looked happy. Tired, of course, given what time it was over there, but happy nonetheless. That same welcoming smile you knew so well was still intact, even while she was being attacked with questions from the entire friend group.

You tried your best not to look at Hyunjin all throughout the conversation. You knew it wouldn't do you any good to see him looking at her — not when you already knew the oh-so-special way he did. That one look in his eyes he only had when it came to her.

You also tried your best not to think of how usual these video calls were. They were best friends, for fucks sake, and they were half a world apart from each other on top of that. If it were you and Seungmin, you knew you'd be calling on a daily basis.

But Hyunjin and Minji were different. And the selfish part of you didn't want to think he was Facetiming her every single day when that seemed to be your thing now.

As stupid as you knew it was, you couldn't stop your head from hurting right then; all because of your own intrusive thoughts.

"We miss you!" Han shouted.

"Yeah, you should call the whole group more often" Chan accused her.

"Oh my God, you should show us around the filming set sometime" Felix excitedly requested.

"Have you met any celebrities?" Jeongin asked.

And the fact that everyone was talking so loudly and eagerly to the phone, as if its microphone wasn't working or something, was definitely not helping your abrupt headache.

"One by one, people. Please" she joked. "I miss you all so much and I will get to you in a minute, but I called Jinnie, so…"

"She said priorities," Minho joked with a roll of eyes. "Let's leave before our dignity hits rock bottom, guys".

Chuckling at his salty remark and watching everyone stand up so they could either go back to their seats or straight up go somewhere else after the bonfire bonding had been interrupted, you hesitated for a moment. Ultimately, however, you stood up too — not being able to decipher the look Hyunjin gave you when you were no longer sitting next to him, and your end of the blanket remained unattended.

Without much thought, you went to the place that felt the most familiar and, therefore, the most comfortable — Seungmin. He was back on his previous seat, mindlessly scrolling through his Twitter feed when you took a seat beside him.

He didn't even budge when you placed your head on his shoulder, silently reading whatever Tweet he decided to stop at.

"You should've brought the blanket" he said plainly when a breeze of cold air hit your bodies, eyes not leaving his phone. "It's cold".

You snorted. "It's Hyunie's blanket. You can go get another one to your tent if you're that cold".

"Just go ask your boyfriend for it, he's giving it to you in a heartbeat".

Your jaw dropped at his nonchalant statement, not minding holding back when you pushed him with both palms and almost made him fall off his chair.

"You're a menace" he accused you, holding onto your upper arm for dear life.

"You started it" you defended yourself.

"Just go get a blanket!" He motioned towards his tent.

"It's your tent, you go".

"Fine! But I swear to God I won't be shar—"

"Um…" Hyunjin's low voice brought your attention to him.

He was awkwardly standing in front of you, folded blanket in his hands while his eyes travelled from you to Seungmin, almost as if pondering his next move.

In the end, they focused on Seungmin.

"You think you can, um…" he nervously cleared his throat. "Leave us to it for a bit?"

Your heart skipped a beat, and your eyes fixed on Seungmin, who was already squinting his eyes in your direction.

The things he had to do for you and the sake of your romantic life.

Standing up without another word and with a quick glance to Hyunjin, he went over to Jeongin and Chan, who were busy chugging two of the beer cans you had no idea were there to begin with. Next to them was Hyejin, who was now holding Hyunjin’s phone as you supposed she was the next to talk to Minji one-on-one.

You frowned. You would’ve thought Minji’s conversation with Hyunjin would go on for ten minutes at least. Had it only been two minutes? Three at most?

Hyunjin took a seat next to you, placing the blanket around your body. His hands remained on your shoulders, tenderly massaging them before he rested his head on yours. You pouted, leaning into his body and burying your face on the crook of this neck.

"Why'd you leave?" he asked.

You shrugged, unintentionally tickling his neck and making goosebumps show up on his skin.

"Hm?" he pushed it, gently nudging you.

"Didn't wanna interrupt" you replied quietly.

"Interrupt?"

"Yeah, like… Minji called you, so…"

"She just wanted to tell me about what happened at the studio today and the instructions the director was giving, you know, to give me some tips since I aim to get there at some point".

You smiled weakly, being reminded of how even when it came to their careers they were a better fit than you and him. An actress and a film producer. It was a match made in Heaven.

"It's not like we were talking about anything top secret" he tried to reassure you when you wouldn't reply.

"No, but…" you sighed. "I don't know".

“Tell me”.

“It would’ve just… We were being way too cozy, and she was watching, I didn’t want to have her think that we’re—you know…”

Hyunjin frowned, looking down to his fidgeting hands on his lap. “But we are, though… Aren’t we?”

You looked up at him in surprise, and he could feel his heart flutter at the sight of your shining, incredulous eyes.

“We are?” you asked in a whisper.

“Do you…” he bit his lip, silently looking for the right words. “Do you really think I’m in love with her?”

You shrugged, sitting up and leaning away from him.

“Y/N…”

“I don’t know what you want me to tell you, it’s always been so obvious”.

“It was nothing, though”.

You snorted at that, shaking your head in disbelief while you focused on one of the trees in front.

“I mean it,” he reassured you, cupping your chin and guiding your face in his direction, giving you no choice but to look at him and feel your breath get caught in your throat over how little distance separated your face from his. “Whatever silly crush I had on her is gone by now”.

“You don’t have to explain yourself to me”.

“But I do,” he disagreed. “I do need to explain myself if it’s gonna jeopardize my relationship with you”.

“R-Relationship?” you whispered again, this time almost inaudibly.

"I mean, not like—I know we don't," he panicked, and you couldn't help but smile ever so faintly at the way his eyes opened wider than usual and his cheeks became a bright pink. "I'm just—in the future maybe, like…"

"Like…" you trailed off, giving him the little push he needed to go on.

Hyunjin took a deep breath. His hands were no longer cupping your face, but nervously shoved into his pockets instead. Suddenly, he had lost all the sudden confidence he previously had when it came to making it clear to you that he no longer wanted anything to do with Minji.

But he wanted things to be clear between the two of you. He wanted you to know that whatever it was he once felt for her, was now gone.

He wanted you to know he wanted you.

So, earning back every ounce of confidence he once had, he took his hands out of his pockets and held yours in them — his thumbs ever so tenderly caressing your soft skin, staring at them with the softest of smiles before his eyes went back up to your already elated ones.

“I like you, Y/N” he confessed. “I really, really like you".

"You do?" you murmured, not believing your ears.

"Mhm…" he nodded, feeling shyness hit him like a truck all over again yet refusing to let it take control over him. "I want to give us a try, I want to be with you, and… I just, I don’t want you to believe I'm stuck on Minji when I'm not".

You looked down to your lap and simply nodded, silently — visibly enough for him to know you heard him, yet not confidently enough for him to think you trusted him.

Everything he had just said was exactly what you wanted to hear. He wanted to be with you. Not her, you. He liked you, and wanted to give your relationship a try. Then why was your gut not allowing you to feel as happy as you should be?

"Can you please say something?" he whispered, nervously biting on his bottom lip.

"I, I don't…"

"You don't like me back?" he assumed; defeat clear in his eyes.

"No, I do!" you clarified embarrassingly fast, not even getting to feel ashamed about it after seeing the way his whole face lit up. "I do. I do like you".

He laughed under his breath, blissfully — thumbs still drawing circles in the palms of your hands, only this time it felt playful.

"What's stopping us then?" Hyunjin asked.

You shrugged, letting out a sigh as you looked up to the sky. "It's not even been two months since she left…"

He sighed heavily, cupping your face with one of his hands and making you look at him once more. "I know it seems like too little time, but I fell so hard so fast for you, Y/N. I can't even understand it either, but I did".

"What about when she comes back…"

"Does it matter?" He tilted his head in confusion. "I'll be with you, nothing's gonna change".

"She's coming back in five months," you pointed out, a small smirk curving up your lips. "You really think we'll last that long?"

Hyunjin giggled, resting his forehead on yours and smoothly pulling you closer to him by firmly placing a hand on your back.

"I think we'll last longer than that, actually".

That did it for you. Those confident words coming out of his mouth, his lips only inches from yours and his strong hand on your back, were all it took for you to shut down every rational part of your mind and to let your heart take over instead.

You wanted to be with him, and he wanted to be with you. So what if he used to have feelings for your mutual friend; it didn’t have to be so complicated.

And maybe, in the long run, that had been your biggest mistake. Pushing all your worries aside and just diving into your feelings for him. Rushing into things. Letting go of your inhibitions that night and never looking back from a decision you made in the heat of the moment.

Your biggest mistake was forgetting about the reason you were sitting all the way across from your previous seats around the bonfire to begin with, and why Hyunjin had come up to you in order to comfort you and reassure you of the way he felt for you.

The reason of all your insecurities was currently at the other side of the world, and Hyunjin was all the way over here with you. It was just that easy to forget about your concerns when the cause of them was nowhere near. Especially when the person your heart was crazy about was holding you so close.

Chuckling at those words that had made you risk it all, you placed your hands on his chest and softly nuzzled his nose. "You think so?"

"What, you wanna bet?" He challenged with a raised eyebrow.

You shook your head no immediately, as a laugh escaped your throat. And with each shake of your head, you moved closer to him — until there was no more space between your mouths, and your puckered lips were softly pressing on his receptive ones.

They felt just like everything you had ever dreamed of, but better. They tasted sweet, just like him; and they somehow felt even softer and plumper than they looked.

With your heart speeding up in such a way you had not felt in so long, you pulled away, feeling your cheeks burn up while your face remained buried in his neck in a poor attempt to hide from what you had just done.

"Oh, no. No," he warned you, tilting his head towards your hidden face and placing his hand on your neck — gently, yet strong enough to manage to make you look up at him. "You don't get to kiss me and then pull away before I get a proper taste of you".

His lips were trapping your bottom one before you could even register his words. He pulled you in closer, hand travelling from the back of your neck to the side of it, so that he could hold you still while his thumb was faintly pressing on your throat.

He deepened the kiss in no time, tilting his head to the side right as his tongue traced your bottom lip for you to open up. Once you did, he was greatly met by yours in the middle — tenderly massaging each other for a brief moment, before you focused back on sucking and teasing your needy lips.

"Did this answer your question?" he whispered against your mouth.

Too far gone in the sensation of his addictive lips on yours and the way his hot breath hit your mouth as it mixed with your own, you struggled to find your voice. "W-What even was the question?"

Hyunjin giggled, louder this time. Both hands cupped your cheeks, and his thumbs tickled your bottom lip as they faintly traced it. "You're so cute".

You looked down, not being able to hold his stare after hearing such a statement come out of his swollen, pink lips. Hyunjin laughed under his breath at the sight of it, planting a soft kiss on your forehead before he pulled you into his arms and fixed the blanket that was sliding down your shoulders.

"Are you two lovebirds done exchanging saliva?" Minho asked from the table a few meters away, mindlessly opening a red cooler.

Hyunjin rolled his eyes, and you shyly buried your face in the crook of his neck like it was oh-so-natural by now.

"Is that a yes?"

"What do you need?" you reluctantly gave in.

"You're literally the only person apart from me who knows how to properly fillet a fish, so…"

You sighed, sitting up and giving Hyunjin a lingering, apologetic look before you stood up.

"I can help, too" he stood up immediately after you, leaving the blanket by your chairs and following behind you.

"I actually need your help chopping the veggies" Hyejin caught him by his t-shirt before he could even reach your side.

"But I can help Y/N cut th—"

"You don't even know how to cut a fish" Hye mocked him.

"No, but—"

"Just give it up, lover boy" Seungmin shut every hope of his down, placing a firm hand on his shoulder and dragging him with them to the other end of the table. "Come join those of us on veggies duty, Y/N's not going anywhere".

Throwing one last glance your way and watching you fold up your sleeves right before you got to helping Minho, Hyunjin smiled. He wished you weren't interrupted because of veggies and fish duty, and therefore you could still be sitting down by the bonfire, all alone, making out like he then realised he was desperate to.

But Seungmin was right. You were not going anywhere. For as long as he stayed by your side, and for as long as he made you feel safe enough in your relationship, you would stay.

For as long as you knew he was yours and you were his, you were not going anywhere. And he planned to keep it that way, so there was truly nothing for him to worry about, right?

tag list: @brinnalaine @slut4colinbridgerton @sherryblossom @svintsandghosts @phenomenalgirl9 @meloncremesoda @jxcesstuff @nhyunn @armystay89 @mal-lunar-28 @143hyunes @seungminstaehyun @cutiespaghetti @chaotic-world-of-the-j @its-me-hyunjin @kwanisms @hyunfruits

#skz #stray kids #hyunjin #skz imagines #stray kids imagines #hyunjin imagines #skz fanfic #stray kids fanfic #hyunjin fanfic #skz scenarios #stray kids scenarios #hyunjin scenarios #skz x reader #stray kids x reader #hyunjin x reader

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gay-dorito-dust · 2 years

Note

aemond x stark reader. trip back to winterfell, aemond is possessive of the reader. one bed

A/n: this was kinda shit plus I think Aemond would be possessive even towards readers family cuz to me he comes off like the type.

When word was sent that you were requested to return to Winterfell, you knew Aemond wouldn’t be too pleased. So when you retired to your chambers for the night, only to be greeted by the prince sat upon the edge of your bed, his face blank of any and all forms of expression. You figured it would be best to be done with it before he found out on the day of your departure and make it everyone’s problem.

“Aemond, my heart.” You began as you made your way to his side, reaching for his hand to not only ground him but to also prepare yourself for what’s to come. “I received word from my father this morning,” you paused briefly to gauge his reaction, secretly relieved in seeing that his face remained neutral. That was up until you spoke about your father, and all in the of a single breath, that Aemond almost couldn’t quite catch it. “I’m coming with you.” He said in a way that implied that there would be no further debate.

“He asked for me and me alone.” You rebutted but Aemond didn’t seem to care as his single eye stared challengingly into your own, “then he shall have to make due with me accompanying you. After all, he’ll have no choice but to get use to me sooner or later.” He gripped your chin within his hand, thumb rubbing back and forth against your jaw, as he skimmed over your features that were highlighted by the fireplace almost possessively. “For I do not plan on letting my betrothed to go where I can not follow. Understood?” You sighed defeatedly, knowing that once Aemond’s mind was made up it was near enough impossible to change it.“Understood.” You replied. “Good, now get some sleep, we’ve got a long journey ahead tomorrow.” Aemond finalised, pressing a kiss against your forehead and pulling away, letting go of your chin as he began to undress himself for bed.

As the snow embedded landscapes of Winterfell came into view, you suddenly felt distraught at the fact that you wouldn’t be able to recognise your own home, after being away from it for so long. Despite being buried under the copious amount of furs you never felt more rigid in that moment; KingsLanding was a sauna in comparison to Winterfell, which felt like how you imagined hell freezing over would feel like. Glancing over at Aemond, you noted that despite proudly proclaiming to house the fire of a dragon in his veins; it seemed that even the mightiest of dragons were forced to bow to the harsh winters of the North. “What happened to all that tall talk my dear Aemond? Scared of a little cold?” You teased as a means in giving your overworked mind some ease.

“Dragons aren’t built for the cold.” Aemond replied, looking out of one of the carriage windows and over the vast expanse of glimmering white that seemed to stretch endlessly far and wide. “Wolves, however, are.” He adds with a smile directed your way that warmed you up from the inside. Aemond reached a hand over to grasp yours reassuringly, “it is also believed that wolves can smell fear,” he adds, “so don’t allow yourself to get so intimidated by the what ifs and focus on the present.” It always seemed to elude you that the brazen and bold prince before you could uphold a conversation that didn’t dissolve into ceaseless violence and bloodshed. It also seemed to elude you that he was just as well versed in the political and philosophical as he was well versed in the art of swordsmanship.

Though before you could voice your thanks, you were already in the courtyard where your family was waiting in their regal furs. Their smiles only widened when they saw you step out of the carriage. “Y/n!” They cried when you got close enough for them to draw you into a warm hug before pulling away, “by the gods you’ve grown.” Your father said as he compared his height to yours, a habit he developed when you were just a growing child, “hope your claws haven’t dulled during your stay in KingsLanding.” He adds. You scoffed, falling back into old habits, “oh they’ve tried, soon enough they discovered I wasn’t so willing to being a bed warmer.” Your father gaufed, clasping you on the shoulder as you smiled back at him as the worries you had slipped away quietly from your mind.

“That’s my child.” Your father’s eyes then shifted back to the carriage when he noticed someone else exiting, his smile filling dropping from his face when he noticed the platinum blonde hair of Aemond Targaryen. “I thought I told you to come alone, Why’d you bring Aemond one eye.” Your father asked, his eyes never leaving Aemond as he approached you both and tucked his hand comfortable to your waist, drawing you to his side. “It’s an honour to meet you Lord Stark, when my y/n told me of your letter. They’ve spoke of you in nothing but the highest of regards. I merely wished to accompany them on this joyous reunion.” Aemond said as he smiled at you before returning his gaze to your father, who despite his distain,smiled tightly as he clasped the prince a little too harshly on the shoulder. “Had I known before hand that you were also coming we would’ve rectified some accommodations a bit that would…besuited the needs fit for a prince.” Aemond merely waved his hand dismissively while he chuckled as though your father told him a funny joke.

“There will be no need for that Lord Stark. I assure you, me and your child are more then accustomed to sharing during their stay with me in KingsLanding.” Aemon states with pride as your fathers eyes merely darken at every word that left his mouth. His fists tightened at his side and he jaw would clench periodically the longer he was forced to listen to the pompous Targaryen. Had he knew that this was the man he has sent you away to one day marry, he would’ve reconsidered and kept you within Winterfell in search of a worthier man such as your childhood friend, Sebastian. You didn’t know whether you wanted to die out of embarrassment right then and there or hide out of fear of what your father would do should Aemond continue. However seeing as neither option would give you much reprieve, you instead gripped Aemond’s arm whistle flashing him a tight smile.

“Aemond my heart, why don’t we get settled in for the night. My father must be exhausted from all the preparations he put into our arrival.” You said, drawing their attention away from one another and on to you instead, relinquishing the tension between the two of them, if only by a little. Aemond seemed to ponder on this a little bit before squeezing your waist, “of course my love, besides you must be tired from the journey here yourself if I’m not mistaken.” “Oh yes, absolutely flabbergasted.” You immediately took advantage of Aemond’s suggestion, finally having an excuse to not be left standing in the courtyard longer then you wanted on your first night back home. All the testosterone was giving your a headache. “Go on ahead child, I’m sure you know where your room is after all this time?” Your father asked as he began to internally dread this week and all it will entitle.

“Of course I do,” you replied, leaving Aemond’s side to hug your father once more before bidding him farewell as you returned to Aemond to drag him by the arm all the up to your room; Shutting the door cautiously behind you before looking over at the smirking male as he sat upon the edge of your bed. “Aemond, my heart, what the fuck was that all about.” He shrugs his shoulders, “I have no idea what your talking about y/n.” You scoffed, walking towards him so that you were in front of him, “so your not going to tell me why you were having a dick measuring contest with my father. Not even mere seconds after arriving.” Aemond grip your waist, bringing you even closer to him. “I don’t plan on wasting our stay here by sharing you with your father. If he wanted to see you, he could’ve visited us, not the other way around.” You put your hands on his shoulders, pulling away from him slightly so you could look him in his eye. “Why am I less to believe that there is more then your letting on.”

Aemond smiled, knowing he couldn’t have anything slide pass you without having you catching on, “your right to think that because had I let you go alone, your father would’ve called off our annulment and have you married to Sebastian Arryn instead despite already having a well known alliance with them for awhile.” He lifted himself off the single bed to rest his forehead against yours, “but don’t you think that we’re more better suited as a couple? As proud children of our respective houses and the children of ice and fire. It as though fate had decided to conjoin the opposing forces through us.” His voice narrows down to a whisper as he held your hand against his own to look adoringly at the size difference between the two of you.

“It doesn’t matter who I have to cut through to prove my love for you, the fact still stands that I will denounce everything to be with you. If your family, friends or even old lovers wish to get between that then…” he trails off to look into your eyes before pulling away entirely, “I shouldn’t have to tell you what will happen to them, you are more then aware of the consequences to befall those who try to take you away from me.” You remained still whilst he buried himself beneath the covers of your old bed, knowing fully well to never question Aemond’s loyalty like you would’ve in the past. Back then you were terrified to have a man borderline obsessed with you to the point he would gift you an ex-lovers head in a box. Now however you’ve grown to find solace in knowing the extent Aemond was willing to go to prove his love. The power that this granted you was almost infinite if you were to include Vhagar to the picture.

It was dangerous but after some time you’ve learnt to love living dangerously quite quickly. You began to undress yourself before making yourself comfortable, shuffling closer to Aemond until your head was resting on his chest and your hand was splashed out against his chest. His warmth was enough alone to bring you to a sleepy state. “Do you promise to love me like this until we die?” You asked him, causing the hand he had on your back to stop tracing shapes into your skin, “such a sill thing to make me promise to,” Aemond says, pressing a kiss to your head where he lingered there for a little longer, “I have always loved you like this ever since we met at the tourney for your hand, despite my hatred for them I knew I couldn’t let you be with anyone other then me.”

#hotd fic #hotd x you #hotd fanfic #hotd imagine #hotd imagines #hotd x reader #house of the dragon x you #house of the dragon fic #house of the dragon fanfic #house of the dragon imagine #house of the dragon x reader #house of the dragon imagines #aemond targaryen fic #aemond targaryen fanfic #aemond targaryen x you #aemond targaryen imagine #aemond targaryen imagines #aemond targaryen x reader

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riveracheron · 5 months

Text

eh. might as well post this now. a few of these are wish fulfillment rather than actual theorizing but explanations under the cut

i have an alchemy hyperfixation and all the alchemy stuff in tmagp makes me very excited so a lot of my theories are related to that

spoilers for the pilot btw

main character gets an eye injury - the image will not leave my head. in the magnus institute ruins statement there was this whole thing about redcanary having some kind of encounter with or experience with eye trauma and that feels like something thats just. gonna come up again

another mechanisms va - self explanatory, we need to complete the set. would love to hear kofi or rachel.

gwen has trauma related to something that happened with elias - this is going on the theory that she’s not elias’ counterpart, but a relative of some kind. something spooky happens to him and that pushes gwen to research the paranormal.

character referencing nicholas flamel - all the main characters have names that reference alchemists, and nicholas flamel is probably the most famous alchemist of all time. i doubt he’ll be given the smirke treatment because that kinda already happened with the transphobic wizard books, but someone could be sharing his name.

mag 114 statement is relevant - thats the. hill top road statement that deals with other realities, and anya (the statement giver) could be from the protocol verse. we could totally hear about the aftermath of her departure

alice/sam/gwen = three primes - the three main alchemical symbols on the OIAR crest, and a good sort of symbolic trio sorter. the three peimes are salt, sulphur and mercury, and are the basis for alchemy. the down to earth, reliable salt, the firey, unpredictable sulfur, and the adaptable, easygoing mercury. i think these could apply i just want to have it called out in universe

lena is a good person - i don’t think they’d pull the evil boss thing twice. i just think lena’s weird mannerisms are from her autistic swag

celia is related to or is agnes - (related to as in. her story involves agnes, not that shes like. a sister.) this comes from a theory by @/pinklotjeart, i think. basically: through the way her death was described (spark returned to the lightless flame) and some timeline discrepancies and general avatarness making it weird, agnes might not be Dead dead. and celia’s counterpart, lynne - well, she saw a fire ghost. also, both her and agnes are the only non one-off characters who have shakespeare names afaik. agnes MONTAGUE, celia from as you like it…

annabelle cane is related somehow - self explanatory, she was at hilltop road when everything went down. might have been pulled in.

a famous alchemist is robert smirke’d - self explaining, give me more canon historical figures jonny

another kitty cat - i want more kitty in podcast is that a crime

augustus is not jonah - we hear jonah’s voice as ben meredith in 193, so im skeptical that tim fearon’s character is jonah for that reason.

oiar group has a messy moment that devolves into actual physical violence - mmm angst i think they deserve to smack eachother around a bit

bonzo cult - yeah.

oiar found family - we got the group of coworkers that hate each other angst last time gimme the “hurting one to get to the others” and self sacrifice angst this time

colin dies early - mmmm i cant say much about this bc its based on one throwaway line at the MCM panel where jonny doesn’t mention colin in the main character group. so . death flags.

oiar is containing the entities scp style - this was a super early theory of mine, either this or theyre using them for power or energy in some way. even more heavy handed capitalism metaphors yay

someone gets ushanka’d - its computer horror: the podcast. that’s all

cookbook statement - a few clues in the ARG had to do with cookbooks, and alex and jonny have already said they’re getting weird with the statement formats (they mentioned an insurance report!) so. cookbook doesn’t seem too far-fetched

tiktoker/influencer character - archives was 2010s and they had a podcaster and youtuber, which were like. the big things. whats the hip trend now??? instagram and tiktok baybee

protocol editors va a small role a la mag 100 or the wtgfs cult - those characters were voiced by other rq team members (ie helen as laverne and martyn as robin) and the team has since expanded!! some editors dis stuff for cry havoc, so im guessing nico, annie, april and others will get a small role!

a villain’s goal is creating the philosopher’s stone or other alchemical thing - tmagp is heavily inspired by alchemy, and the philosopher’s stone was the main goal of alchemy!! it would grant you eternal knowledge snd the ability to turn lead into gold- which seems like a good. evil dude’s ambition

the desolation gets more focus - the institute burned down, the oiar crest has a lot of sulfur symbols (the fire element), alchemy as a whole having to do with fire, celia and her connection- it paints a very. lightless flame picture

trip to germany - a lot of the arg was set in and around berlin, and there was that exchange between sam and colin about german in the pilot! i could see a germany trip happening in the same way jon took a trip to china and america.

#the magnus protocol #tmagp #the magnus protocol spoilers #tmagp spoilers

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babyblue711 · 7 months

Text

Devotion

Osferth (The Last Kingdom) x Reader - Part 3 (Final) Read Part 2 Here Chapter Summary: Before the men head off to war yet again, Osferth and Reader share a romantic night to themselves. Words: 5.9K

Chapter Warnings: NSFW, Sexual Content 18+, Smut, Loss of Virginity, Fingering and overall shenanigans

A/N: Word of the wise - Osferth takes his time with his sweet little virgin. Strap in for the long haul kiddos 🔥

💙 Beta read by the wonderful: @sylasthegrim

💙 Beautiful gif by the one and only: @myfandomprompts

In the aftermath of the battle, you and Osferth take Finan’s horse in search of your brother and sister. The tension in the air is palpable as you scour the forest, calling their names, hoping to find them unharmed. After what feels like an eternity, you stumble upon a small clearing deep in the woods and discover them safe and sound.

Your sister sobs the whole way home, overwhelmed by the terrifying ordeal and you gather her in your arms, whispering reassurances in her ear as she rides in front of you in the saddle on Osferth’s white horse. Your brother sits stoically in front of Osferth, a vision of bravery for getting his sister to safety. Even though you are exhausted and weary from battle, you finally feel complete as the four of you make your way back home.

The atmosphere in Rumcofa is somber and heavy with grief. The massacre of innocent Danes has shaken the town to its core, and a sense of fear and uncertainty hangs in the air. The place that once felt like home, a sanctuary, no longer seems safe. Worry grips your heart; you are unsure how long Uhtred and his men will call this town “home” and you feel safest being wherever they are. The uncertainty makes you feel insecure about your immediate future.

A few days go by and Lord Athelhelm’s evil plot finally starts to unravel. Osferth and Finan rush to Uhtred’s side as the Saxon and Dane armies converge to straighten out the misunderstanding that had pitted them against one another in the first place. It had not been Danes that had killed Lord Athelhelm’s daughter like he wanted everyone to believe but rather his own scheme gone awry; she sacrificed herself to save the visionary he had intended to kill in order to sow discord between Saxon and Dane. But in the chaos of the battle that followed, he escaped to Bebbanburg.

The men briefly return to Rumcofa, mainly to gather their remaining strength before marching on Bebbanburg to bring Lord Athelhelm to justice. You know Uhtred has longed to liberate Bebbanburg from his cousin, Lord Wihtgar, for many years and with the King’s assistance he is finally getting the chance to reclaim his birthright.

Will it ever stop? you wonder to yourself as you help Ingrith prepare dinner for them that evening. Will war ever stop for these men? All you wanted was peace and for them all to be safe at home in the arms of their loved ones and families.

Upon their arrival back home, Osferth had officially asked Lord Uhtred for your hand in courtship and Uhtred, as wise as ever, had smiled and said, “I will leave that for the lady to decide.” Of course, you had happily accepted, finally being able to declare your love for each other and be an official couple, filling a void that had been in your hearts for a long time. You can tell Osferth feels the same.

The evening before their departure to Bebbanburg is bittersweet. Knowing that Osferth will be leaving on the morrow for battle once more, you've resolved to savor this precious evening with him, cherishing the moments you have together. Curled on the gray fur blanket next to the fire crackling merrily in the hearth, you listen intently as he reads verses of The Holy Book to you.

You watch him read, admiring the sharp shadows on his face from the firelight. Your eyes trace the length of his nose and the shape of his strong jaw and chin; he licks his thumb to turn a page, reading aloud all the while, oblivious to your adoring gaze, and you suddenly feel something stir deep within when you see his pink tongue dart from between his lips.

You crawl over to him on the fur rug, and gently place your hand on top of the page, causing him to stop at your distraction. He looks up at you questioningly.

“Perhaps that’s enough reading for tonight?” you ask lightly, giving him a sweet smile.

“Of course, my lady,” Osferth marks his page and closes the book, stretching to put it on a nearby table. He returns his attention to you.

“Well, we have the night to ourselves, what would you like to do next?” he asks you innocently with bright eyes. Both of your siblings are staying at Astrid’s tonight. She promised them lots of fun and games, a needed reprieve for the children after a hard couple of weeks, while giving you a knowing wink.

“I think I have something in mind,” you try to say in your best sultry voice, feeling more confident than you really are. You reach out and grab Osferth by the collar, bringing his lips to your own. He immediately understands your intentions and, after a moment, gently pulls back.

“My lady, please, there is no rush…,” he starts to say but you stop him by putting a finger to his lips.

“Please, Osferth?” you ask, eyes wide, begging him with your gaze. “Truly, I want you…before you have to leave again.”

He sighs and considers you, torn by his feelings and sense of responsibility. “I want you too,” he confesses with longing in his voice. “I have wanted you for a very long time, but I would never pressure you. There will be plenty of time for that.”

“Will there be?” you question sharply, “Nobody knows what the future holds, Osferth, not even the gods. Mine or yours.”

He takes a deep breath, leveling you with a steady stare and you feel compelled to confess to him.

“Osferth, I… I have not been with anyone else in that way,” you breathe, voice barely above a whisper. “Please, I am yours.”

You see his breathing pick up as the weight of your words settle upon him, his eyes searching yours.

“You are still a maiden?” He swallows as you nod, confirming what he had suspected but didn’t know for certain. He blinks rapidly as he absorbs your words.

“My lady…what you offer me, you can only offer once. You cannot take it back once it is done. I am honored, but are you sure?”

You nod, having never been more sure about anything in your life. “Osferth, you have held a treasured place in my heart since I was a girl. I cherish you above everyone else,” you pause to take a deep breath, laying your emotions bare, “Please….I belong to you and have for a long time.”

His face softens with affection at the sincerity of your words, warmth seeping out of his blue eyes and he responds with a confession of his own.

“And my heart belongs to you, for longer than you know,” he says softly, surprising you by the duration of his affection and depth of his devotion. His words flow freely now, as if he has been waiting for this moment. “I have watched you struggle and bear the weight of womanhood long before your years. You have always triumphed in anything you set your mind to. I admire you more than you know and have for a long time.”

He leans towards you, gently cupping the side of your face with his hand, his thumb tracing your cheekbone and the faint scar left behind from Bresal’s blade. Your heartbeat picks up wildly as you stare with adoration into each other’s eyes. He rests his forehead against yours and you breathe each other in; time seems to stand still as you share this intimate moment together, lost in the confessions of love.

You lose track of how much time has passed, deciding to prompt him further by leaning up and whispering against his lips, “Please, allow me to truly be yours.”

Whether from your words or actions, you finally seem to break his resolve as he returns your kiss, his mouth opening under yours.

“I promise to be gentle,” he breathes, finally verbally acquiescing before resuming your kiss. For a moment, you enjoy languidly the taste of each other’s tongues as he pulls you into his lap, straddling him, and you immediately run your fingers through his hair, kissing deeply.

Your heartbeat picks up in this new position, never having been so intimately wrapped around a man before; it is all so new to you. Although you have imagined this scenario for so long, it seems to have come upon you so suddenly. You realize you felt braver going into battle than you do at this moment, intertwined around Osferth.

You spend some time exploring each other’s mouths, moaning lightly as he shifts his position, bringing you down to lay under him on top of the furs. He hovers above you, using his arms to support his weight as you spread your legs to allow him to settle within the cradle of your hips.

His smell surrounds you as he continues kissing you for a while more, taking his time. Decidedly more impatient than he is, you reach for the cinch of his alb, eager to undress him. He allows you to untie it, and then removes it with your help, left only in his breeches. He lowers himself back onto you, and you can feel the heat radiate from his bare torso through your simple dress. You start to explore his body with your hands, running them up his sides and down over his strong back muscles, repeating the pattern.

Osferth suddenly rolls you over until you are on top, and you sit on him tentatively, unable to ignore the bulge you feel in his pants that's pressing against your center.

“I cannot be the only one undressed,” Osferth says easily, a smile tugs at his lips as he reaches for the ties at the front of your dress. Slowly, sensually, you help Osferth remove your dress, the intricate laces and extra layers adding an additional step of difficulty. Finally, you pull your dress and shift up over your head, baring yourself before him, nipples hardening in the cool air, left only in your smallclothes on your bottom half.

Your heartbeat races as his eyes devour your body and you desperately try not to feel self-conscious. His big, hot hands run up your hips, over your ribs and across your back. You arch into his embrace, reveling in the warmth of his hands, feeling the calluses on his palms, knowing those same hands have dealt death to many men in battle yet are being so gentle on your soft skin now.

His thumb skims down over your nipples briefly, getting you used to his touch. His hands make another circuit down your ribs and up your back before sliding down to your breasts once more; his large hands cover them completely as he gives them a gentle squeeze, kneading softly. You whimper, closing your eyes to his touch, unable to help grinding on top of his covered length as his attention to your breasts builds your arousal, an ache forming between your thighs.

He lets out a soft grunt as you continue to rub yourself upon his growing bulge. Suddenly, he flips you back over, the naked skin of your back now laying upon the soft fur blanket and kneels between your thighs.

“Have you ever seen a naked man before?” he asks and you shake your head no.

He seems to have expected this, shifting to take off his breeches and bare himself to you. Your eyes widen when you look upon his impressive length and your brain suddenly jumpstarts, that’s supposed to fit inside me? Hard and heavy, his cock stands erect between his legs and it draws your eye; you can’t help but stare at the veins and the way the head seems to weep. Your gaze flits over his moderate patch of hair and finally his balls; they look taunt from the strain of his standing cock and you wonder what they feel like to touch.

Your trepidation must have shown clearly on your face, for Osferth no longer kneels between your legs but lies at your side.

He grabs your chin and looks you in the eyes, “We’ll go slow,” he promises as he places a soft kiss on your lips.

You nestle into the soft fur of the blanket, the heat of the fire and of Osferth’s skin keeping you plenty warm. You continue to kiss for a few more moments, the kisses becoming deeper and more heated and you try to ignore the way his heavy cock presses against your thigh. Suddenly, his hand comes up and rests on your leg and you immediately tense at the sensation. You know what is coming and it both terrifies and exhilarates you.

For a couple of strokes, Osferth simply rubs your outer thigh, getting you used to the sensation of him touching you more than he ever has before. As you relax under his touch, you arch your back, sighing into his mouth as you press your chest into his, enveloped in his warm embrace. The heat of his skin settles you, calms you. He continues for a few more moments, hand moving from your thigh, sliding up and over your ribs and down your back before finally caressing your breasts again.

The ache between your legs continues to grow, but it’s not an entirely new sensation, you had felt desire before. You find yourself craving his touch and wanting more.

“You’re so beautiful,” he breathes as he starts to trail kisses down your neck and over your collarbone, finally putting your nipple in his mouth and sucking, kneading the other breast with his hand. You push your breasts into his face and moan, delighted at these new sensations. You rub your thighs together, hoping for some friction as Osferth still has yet to touch you there.

He works his way back up your body, kissing your lips and you revel in his touch, running your fingers through his hair, pulling at the back of it a bit, urging him on. Osferth had promised to go slow and slow he was going. You decide to help him pick up the pace a bit.

You are still far too intimidated to touch his length but you take his hand and lead it between your thighs, feeling bold. He breaks the kiss and gives you a small smirk.

“So impatient,” he whispers, hand stilling on your center, not giving you the friction you crave. “Lie back for me.”

You roll from your side onto your back as Osferth easily removes your smallclothes and your naked body lies on the fur on full display. Osferth shifts closer to you, propped up on one arm as his hand trails down your stomach and up one thigh. You mewl pathetically, begging him with your sounds where you want him to touch you.

A smug smile lifts the corners of his sensuous mouth; he knows exactly what he is doing and how to tease you as he trails his fingers along the inside of your other thigh. You squirm and begin kneading your breasts, his eyes flicking up to watch you touch yourself and finally he relents from his torturous teasing as his fingers come to lightly trail over your silky slit.

Your breath hitches at his touch, as he parts your lips with his fingertips and explores your folds, dipping down to your entrance, gathering wetness onto his fingers. You close your eyes, unable to meet his gaze, bashful now as he touches your most intimate parts.

“Is this what you want, my lady?” Osferth asks playfully in a deep voice.

You bite your lip and nod, focusing on the sensation of his fingertips as he begins to circle your bud expertly with the pads of his fingers. You mewl, spreading your legs wider for him to access your core.

“Have you ever touched yourself before?” Osferth whispers in your ear. You keep your eyes closed and nod again, too shy to see his expression when you admit to pleasuring yourself. You had even brought yourself to orgasm from time to time. But no man has ever made you feel as good as this.

“Good, then you are at least familiar with this,” he mutters, mostly to himself and you relax at his approval.

After a few moments, you start to pant as his adept fingers increase the pace on your bundle of nerves. You moan as Osferth shifts his fingers down to your entrance and he tentatively pushes one inside of your tight velvet walls, slowly working you open.

You gasp a little, eyes snapping open, fingers gripping the back of his hair, holding him close, his lips on your neck. His finger is much longer and thicker than your own and your back arches off the floor at the sensation of him inside of you. His intrusion doesn’t hurt, your pussy is well soaked by now as he moves his middle finger in and out of you gently. Your breathing picks up as lewd squelching noises mix with the crackling of the fire, sounding loud in the quiet room.

He manages to lift his face from your neck, a feat considering how hard you are clinging to him, and watches your face as he explores the inside of your pussy with his finger, his heavy-lidded eyes dark with lust.

You pant, eyes glazed, staring up at him as he watches your face. After a few more gentle pumps you feel him withdraw only to feel a slight stretch this time as he pushes two fingers into you. Eyes widening, your breath quickens at the unfamiliar sensation, hands moving down to grip his shoulders, eyebrows knitting together as you adjust to this new feeling.

He immediately stops when he sees your slight frown. “Does it hurt?” he asks, voice soft. You shake your head and bring your lips up to his, and he gives a satisfied groan into your mouth as you continue to feel him moving inside of you, feeling your walls, as if he is searching for something.

It isn’t until electricity explodes from your core and straight into your heart that you realize he found whatever it was that he had been searching for. You are unable to maintain your kiss, panting and moaning and he crooks his fingers repeatedly against a sweet spot deep inside of you, a spot you didn’t even know existed. Somewhere in the far recesses of your mind, you wonder how he already knows your body better than you do.

He sets a steady rhythm, pumping his fingers while curling them slightly, consistently hitting your spot of pleasure, overwhelming you by the intense sensations he is pulling from your body.

After a minute, he pauses his ministrations, giving you a small reprieve and you moan loudly, breathing heavily.

“My lady, close your eyes and focus on the pleasure,” Osferth instructs in a whisper and you do as he bids, letting him consume you as he begins again, picking up the pace. His palm constantly rubs your pearl and soon you start to feel something intense building deep inside of you, stronger than you’ve ever known before. You focus on the pleasure, your breath starting to come in quick gasps as the tension builds. Suddenly you find yourself babbling uncontrollably, begging Osferth to continue his pace, willing him not to stop.

Ecstasy explodes from your core, traveling to the tips of your fingers and toes as you cry aloud, legs trembling as your cunt clenches down on Osferth’s fingers, reaching a level of pleasure you have never known. Osferth continues to work you through your peak until you are on the brink of overstimulation, finally withdrawing his hand, leaving you panting on the floor next to him. As you try to regain your composure, you open your eyes, mind blissfully blank, and stare at the wooden ceiling of your cozy cabin.

You turn your head to look at Osferth next to you and he raises his eyebrows.

“… what was that?” you ask breathlessly.

“Did you like it?” he asks innocently with a cocky smirk as if it wasn’t perfectly obvious that he had just given you the greatest pleasure of your life.

All you can manage is a giggle; you’re at a loss for words. You hear him chuckle too, low under his breath beside you as he shifts. Looking down, your heartbeat picks up again as you notice that he has grasped himself in hand, using your slick from his fingers to coat his thick length.

“Are you ready?” he asks softly and a tingle goes up your spine as adrenaline spikes in your veins again. You find yourself trembling, not from fear, but from anticipation.

You find that you can not speak, only nod as you finally realize what is coming. His fingers were one thing but his length still looks just as alarmingly large. You know you want him inside of you but you are apprehensive of the pain you are sure to feel, even after your incredible peak.

Osferth moves to hover above you once more, his slim hips resting on yours. He gives you a deep kiss as he lines himself up with your entrance and you break the kiss once you feel him pressing there; you can’t seem to concentrate on doing two things at once as you tense, wondering how on earth he is supposed to fit. Osferth pushes the head of his cock into your opening, stretching you fully for the first time.

You immediately suck in a sharp breath at the pain and he instantly withdraws, looking down at you with concerned eyes.

Shivering a little underneath him, you whimper, “Osferth, how is it supposed to fit?” a note of worry in your voice.

His eyes soften as he understands the source of your concern. Leaning down, he gives you a sweet kiss while shifting his weight to one elbow, his hand comes up to smooth your hair away from your face in a reassuring gesture.

“My lady, you have to relax,” he says in a soothing whisper. “There will be some stretching but most women seem to enjoy it. A sharp pain means you are too tense or not wet enough and I do not think we have to be concerned with the latter,” he chuckles a little at his joke as he guides you through this.

“Do you want to stop?” he asks gently, giving you a way out.

You shake your head quickly, you have come this far and you aren't stopping now.

“Breathe deeply for me,” Osferth counsels wisely and you do as he says. He leans down and kisses your lips, pushing his tongue into your mouth as he tries to distract you again as he guides the head of his cock into your pussy once more.

This time he doesn’t stop as the head of his cock spears you open and he continues pushing in, sliding slowly, inch by savory inch. Again you can’t maintain the kiss, focusing on the stretch, his eyes scan your face, watching for any signs of pain. The stretch is intense, more so than what you were expecting. You close your eyes, eyebrows knitting together, focusing on allowing him deep inside of you, panting and trying to breathe through the new sensation. Above you, Osferth gives a small groan as he tries to push in as slowly and gently as possible without causing you undue pain.

Finally, he bottoms out inside of you, bodies fully flush together and he stills, allowing your walls to adjust to his girth.

“There,” he breathes, nose brushing against yours, “the hardest part is over.”

You nod, hanging on to every word as he kisses you again and begins thrusting very softly in small, rocking movements.

In a few moments, you find yourself relaxing as you get accustomed to the stretch and it starts to feel quite nice. You find you quite like the feeling of his thick cock dragging along inside your walls, filling you up, completing you, making you feel whole, joined together as one at last.

Your hands move to explore his shoulders, sliding down along his back muscles and over his toned arse and you boldly push his butt down, causing him to sink a little deeper inside of you and causing you to gasp. Osferth smirks, seeming to enjoy your little noises as you experience everything for the first time. The feeling of fullness is heavenly as he slides back and forth, slowly increasing his pace.

You start to meet his thrusts as you relax into his rhythm. Encouraged by your movements, he picks up the pace, increasing both your pleasure and his.

You pant and mewl underneath him as tension builds deep in your core, radiating from your pussy through your whole body. Encouraged from your lusty moans, Osferth starts to pump in and out of you in strong, smooth strokes, the sound of your skin slaps together erotically.

“My lady, you are so perfect,” Osferth grunts as his own release starts to build and consume him, “I am sorry but I will not last very long.”

Having not known how long it was going to last anyway, you don’t respond, continuing to meet his thrusts and whine underneath him.

He rolls his hips into you a few more times, both of you breathing hard, consumed by the pleasure, when suddenly he withdraws, taking himself in hand and pumping quickly until thick pearly ropes of spend shoot out and coat your stomach.

You lay panting, instantly missing the loss of the fullness you felt when he had been inside of you. As the warmth of his spend seeps into the tender skin of your belly, Osferth leans back over you and gives you a sultry, deep kiss, one of love, adoration, and passion.

“You did so well,” he praises before moving away to get a wet washcloth.

As you wait for him to return, a million thoughts start racing through your mind. You were finding the ending rather anticlimactic. It was over fairly quickly, you think. Is it always so fast? Wasn’t he supposed to spill his seed inside of you?

You hear Osferth’s footsteps pad quietly back over to you on the worn wooden floors and lay still as he wipes his spend from your stomach. You watch as his eyes, at first focused on his task, flit from your belly to your breasts and then shift downward where you’ve brought your knees up, thighs together. He gently touches your thigh and his eyes flick up to meet yours.

“Sweet one, it is normal for ladies to bleed a little after their first time,” Osferth says with a little trepidation but ever so tenderly. “I do not want you to be alarmed if you did not know. Would you allow me to clean you up?” he asks sincerely, holding up the wet linen cloth.

You hesitate, this gesture somehow seems much more intimate than what you had just done together. You did, in fact, know that bleeding can occur when the maidenhead tears but you weren’t sure if you had bled. He had been so gentle, aside from the stretching, you hardly had felt any pain.

Slowly, you nod and open your legs a little, feeling self conscious. Will he care if there’s blood? What will he think if there is? You didn’t want him to think less of you or be disgusted by something you couldn’t control. What if you didn’t bleed? Will he think you lied to him about being a virgin?

Osferth folds the cloth over to a clean side and wipes your still sensitive folds, being much more gentle than you would have been. The coolness from the wet cloth feels nice on your slightly sore skin and you allow your knees to fall to the side more, giving him easier access. You watch his face, admiring the profile of his sharp nose and strong jaw while his eyes focus on cleaning your most intimate parts.

You find that you can’t help but ask. “Did I bleed?” you say in barely a whisper, feeling afraid of the answer.

“A little,” Osferth replies, seeming totally unphased.

“Oh, I- I’m sorry,” fear colors your voice and you attempt to close your legs, to hide the embarrassing sight but Osferth stops you, a frown in between his eyebrows as he looks up at your face and pushes your legs apart again.

“My lady, it is completely natural, please do not be ashamed,” he finishes wiping and then suddenly spreads your legs much wider. Before you can stop him, he leans down and places a kiss right onto your sensitive folds. Your breath catches at the sensation of his lips on your pussy, your eyes widen at the thought of his face down there. Head still between your thighs he looks up at you smugly.

“We will practice with my mouth another time,” he gives you a sly grin and your eyes pop. Laying the cloth to dry by the fire, he comes back up to snuggle you close, both of you still completely bare.

You lay in his arms, fingers running through his chest hair as your brain whirls. Your heart feels full; you feel contented, relaxed, and exhilarated that you just had sex for the first time and you feel more connected to Osferth than ever before. You had heard so many horror stories growing up and had been so sure that sex was a horrible and painful experience for all women. But you couldn’t have been more pleased with having the opposite experience. Aside from the little bit of pain as your body welcomed him inside of you for the first time, the stretching quickly grew quite pleasurable and you decided you had enjoyed your first time immensely.

You muse on all of this as Osferth holds you in his arms and now you feel like you can focus on his bare form. Your fingers slide over his toned pecks, tracing down his abs. Your gaze is level with Osferth’s neck muscles and collarbone and, unable to help yourself, you lean in and kiss his neck, licking at the salty skin and enjoying his taste. Surprised, he pulls away and looks down at you.

“Can we do it again?” you ask, looking up at him with hopeful eyes.

He smirks and makes a humming noise deep in his chest.

“There is much for us to explore…as long as you are sure you do not feel sore, yes, my lady, we can do it as many times as you like,” he places a sweet kiss on your lips.

“Osferth?” you ask again, unable to help yourself.

He raises his eyebrows, staring at you, showing he is listening.

“Why did you not spill inside of me?”

He blinks in surprise. “I would have thought it obvious,” he shifts to look better at you. “My lady, you are so young and already have two small children to care for. I could not bring myself to add the burden of another, especially since we are off to battle again soon,” he states simply and the thought of war momentarily chills the warm air, an icy reminder of what is soon to come.

He continues, “But when you are ready and we are more settled, then I will happily give you my seed, and watch your belly swell with my child, if that is what you wish.” He runs his hand over your flat stomach as if imagining it.

You nod, complex emotions running through your mind. He is trying to save you from raising another child alone, yet you want nothing more than to possess a piece of him. Should things go badly in battle, you cannot help but feel he should leave a part of himself behind. You lay quietly as he begins gently rubbing your side, conflicted by this sudden intense desire while recognizing the logic behind his words.

Heat starts to build between your legs again as he continues to absentmindedly rub your back. You give him a sweet kiss on the lips, kissing along his jaw and he moans softly at your tender touch. You boldly nip at the skin of his neck, initiating the second round of lovemaking.

He obliges you, kissing you deeply as your bodies melt together as one again, moving much more quickly than before. He puts you on top this time, grasping your hips and rocking you upon his thick length as he thrusts up into you from below.

Your orgasm starts to build, spurred by the constant stimulation of your bud along his pubic bone. You can feel your muscles tense as the coiling tension builds within you, driving you higher and higher, filthy words escape from your lips, gone mad with passion or perhaps just crazed with lust; you almost don’t even recognize the sound of your own voice as you exclaim how much you love his cock inside you, how badly you want his seed, how you can’t wait to grow round with his child…As your peak crashes over you once more, your core clenches down on his length and you beg him to finish with you, to not pull out.

“Oh gods, yes….Osferth, please give it to me,” you scream in ecstasy as you come apart on top of him.

If he is surprised by the brazen words pouring from your mouth, he doesn’t let it show, instead seeming even more aroused by your emphatic display of passion. His breathing is harsh as he thrusts harder and rougher within you, forgetting to be gentle until he stills inside of you with a groan, his thick cock pulsing within your soft velvet walls.

Coming down from your high, you close your eyes and tilt your head back, moaning ever so softly, “Yes, Osferth, give it all to me,” as you continue to rock gently on top of him, milking his cock as your walls continue to flutter around him.

He groans again, fingers digging roughly into the soft flesh of your hips and suddenly he flips you over while maintaining your connection, leaning down and capturing your mouth with his own, claiming you with his tongue as you wrap your arms and legs around him, holding him as close as you possibly can until his cock starts to soften inside of you.

You lose count how many times you make love that night and again in the morning before he departs. Your pussy feels deliciously sore, love bites and bruises mottle the skin of your neck and breasts from his lips and teeth. You love the marks he has left upon your body, feeling like they are a silent declaration of his possession, you belong to him now, just as he belongs to you.

In the doorway of your small cabin, you share a deep, passionate kiss with Osferth before he departs, the taste of him lingering on your lips. As you watch him walk down the frozen muddy lane where Finan waits for him with his horse (“My arse is freezing, Baby Monk!” he exclaims, playfully encouraging Osferth to hurry), your hand travels to your lower belly, cradling it, hoping your womb will quicken from his seed, wondering if new life will blossom from the love that you made repeatedly together. Your heart feels heavy, knowing that he faces the brutal uncertainties of battle. But such is the life of a warrior's future wife, a life marked by both love and the ever-present shadow of war. You hope, in time, there will be a place you can finally call “home” with Osferth by your side.

The End

Tags: @peonamay @quinnquinn317 @multyfangirl @cyeco13 @aemondsscar @chainsawsangel @boundlessfantasy @bellaisasleep @fan-goddess @pandemonium105 @megatardisbaby @gemini-mama @bcon24 @lexwolfhale @lauzy87 @arcielee @urmomsgirlfriend1 @iscocohere

#ewan mitchell #tlk osferth #osferth the last kingdom #osferth tlk #osferth x reader #osferth #baby monk #the last kingdom fanfic #aethelstan the last kingdom #usermyfandomprompts

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