#I was planning on making this a part 2 to that Christmas drawing but I literally forgot. oops | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

magics-neptunes-things · 4 months

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Baby Sister

Hi guys!

This one is from resquets, lot of them actually. I hope you will enjoy this ficlet :)

TW : Jealousy, secret relationship, Reader is Jenni Hermoso's little sister.

PART 2 IS HERE!

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Being Jenni Hermoso’s little sister has always been a great pride for you. You wear your last name with great happiness and you have always attended all the matches you could see. You have never missed any of his important matches, whether with the Barça team or the Spanish national team. This summer, you even made the trip to attend each stage of the competition, until seeing her lift the trophy at the finale.

What happened after and around this victory, you’d rather not talk about. This story makes you green with rage and you sincerely believe that if you had faced these men at the end of the summer, things would have gone very badly.

Jenni now playing in Mexico, it’s obviously harder for you to go and see her play. You watch her evolve on the other side of the ocean thanks to VPN, what you find ridiculous, it’s your sister for God’s sake.

But you’ve been used to long distance relationships for a while now. Because your girlfriend doesn’t happen to live in Barcelona either. Leila has been playing for Manchester City since the summer of 2022, a few months after you two started dating. The long-distance relationship is clearly not something easy to manage, but your reunions are incredible every time. Now that Jenni is no longer in Barcelona, it’s easier for you to fly to Leila for a weekend in Manchester.

Yes, because Jenni obviously doesn’t know that you’re in a relationship with one of her friends. Former colleagues at Barça and in the Spanish national team, there is no need to draw a picture to know how you met. It took some time for you to get closer, you were long persuaded that Leila only saw you as Jenni’s little sister. Baby Hermoso, like most of Jenni’s teammates like to call you.

It’s not a nickname that bothers you, you know it’s affectionate and again it’s not something pejorative for you to be compared to your sister. You love her. Even though she tends to be very protective of you, scaring away all your girlfriends pretty quickly. No one is good enough for you in her eyes and even if you know that her goal is to protect you and to avoid the mistakes that she made herself, you must admit that it’s for this reason that Leila and you decided to remain hidden.

Lying or hiding things from Jenni is really not easy for you. You are used to telling her everything and you have sometimes picked yourself up at the last moment when you want to tell her an anecdote about something you saw or did with Leila. Luckily, you didn’t make any missteps in a year and a half, almost two years.

But the secret is starting to weigh you more and more. Being away from the two most important women in your life is difficult for you and you regularly find yourself with lower morale than usual. When Jenni asks you about it, you just tell her you miss her. Which is true, but not totally. It’s easier for you to talk about it with Leila, even if you don’t want to impose your moods on her.

With Christmas coming, Leila is back in Barcelona, just like your big sister. You managed to establish a schedule in the rules of the art, juggling between family meals and stolen moments with your girlfriend. You even managed to set up an afternoon with Ona, Leila and other friends you have in common. You even asked Alba Putellas to join you, but she already had something planned.

So, when Ona and her brother went back to their parents, Leila offered to take you home, which you obviously accepted. Except she stayed at your place to end the night between lovers, catching up on all the kisses, hugs and love whispers you’re late for. You could spend hours with Leila, hidden under your sheets, exchanging confessions between two kisses.

********

It was between Christmas and New Year’s that Jenni asked you to have lunch and an afternoon with her. If her proposal obviously excited you, you found yourself hesitating when she told you she wanted to invite Leila to join you. It’s been a while since they met again and Leila apparently misses her. And since you two are getting along, Jenni thought it was a good idea to bring people together.

If only she knew how well you two get along…

From the exchange of messages that you had with Leila to talk about this, you realized that the situation seems to amuse your girlfriend more than anything else. It helped you see things in a different light. Maybe there’s no reason to worry, after all?

You’re the last arrived in the restaurant Jenni picked, both brunettes already sitting at a table. You have no trouble spotting them, it would have been difficult to do it anyway with Jenni’s great gestures. You approach Leila to hug her, giving her a stern look when her hand is dangerously low on your hip. Then you put a kiss on your sister’s cheek, which makes you sit next to her before grabbing a lock of your hair.

"Since when do you have red streaks?" laughs your sister

You shrug your shoulders and get rid of your jacket to place it on the back of your chair. The facility is already pretty full and people don’t seem to pay too much attention to your table. A good thing for you.

"Since yesterday"

"It suits her well I think"

Jenni looks at you for a few more seconds before smiling and nodding. Just like her, you have very dark hair, but your eyes are more on gray than on brown like those of Jenni. When you turn your attention to Leila, she winks at you and you find yourself blushing slightly while smiling.

The discussion between the three of you goes rather well in the end and after you go to choose tapas, you relax completely. The laughter burst and you spend a pleasant moment with the two brunettes.

Between two tapas, you grab your phone to open whatsapp and show a message from your mother to Jenni to show that you are right about something. Honestly, you can’t even say why it was, as the subject is quickly forgot when another conversation seems to have caught your big sister’s eye.

"Who is the lion?"

"What?"

You’re trying to quickly put your phone in your jacket pocket, because you know exactly what Jenni is talking about. Instead of saving Leila’s full name, you inserted a lion emoji and an emoji with a burning heart next to it. You find it cuter and it saves you a little today. But not as much as you would have liked.

No doubt thanks to her reflexes worked during training, Jenni managed to grab your phone before you put it away, hurrying to change her hand to get away from you.

"Jenni give it back to me" you half get up and try to take it back.

In front of you two, Leila looks at you with big eyes, without really knowing what to do. Luckily you never call yourself by your first names. And luckily too, you tend to send yourself photos through other apps.

"I miss you, I can’t wait to find you" starts reading Jenni out loud, frowning. "I count the days before I see you again… Who is this girl?"

When Jenni turns to you, you manage to take the phone out of her hands and put it away from her. Your cheeks are so red we could probably bake eggs on them.

"No one" you grunt carrying your glass to your lips.

"Well if that’s nobody, I don’t dare imagine what the messages with your girlfriend are" laughs Leila.

You almost strangle yourself with your drink and Jenni doesn’t seem to blame you to the point of letting you die on the spot since she gives you little pats on the back. On the other hand, you shoot your girlfriend with the look by seeing her drive the nail.

"Do you have a girlfriend?" asks Jenni, eyebrows still frowned.

You sigh softly and hesitate a split second before answering. After all, she doesn’t need to know who it is, right?

"Yes" you simply answer, giving her a look of challenge.

Jenni supports your gaze, obviously, and you feel the questions swirling through her head. You don’t know what you’ll get first.

"Why didn’t you tell me?" your older sister asks.

"Because you drove away all the last ones I’ve been with" you answer, rolling your eyes.

"Oh right away the big words…" sighs Jenni, even if her amused smile proves her guilt.

A few seconds pass and you naively hope that this will be enough for Jenni as information for the moment. Maybe the fact that you’re with Leila will hold her back from pushing things too hard and getting other information out of you.

"How is she?"

It’s Leila’s voice which resounds however and you return once again a dismayed look in her direction. She’s supposed to help you, not the other way around. However, when you answer that it’s not her business, Jenni insists by asking you the question in turn.

"She is kind, she is attentive and understanding" you end up answering, a deeply upset look displayed on the face.

"Is she pretty?" asks Leila

"Obviously" you snort.

In front of you, Leila seems to be having a great time. And if you think that you may laugh about it later, currently you can’t help but think that you intend to make her pay for it later.

"Is she a good kisser?" continues Leila.

"Wow no, I don’t want to hear the answer to that question" Jenni steps in with one hand up. "I can’t believe it, you’re still a baby."

You roll your eyes sighing, hearing the moan in the voice of your big sister. You’re almost eight years apart, but she sometimes has a hard time forgetting that you’ve been fifteen almost ten years ago.

"I’m 25, Jenni" you point out, but this information seems to fall on deaf ears.

"Wait, is that the girl from your job here? Aida?"

"Who is Aida?" asks Leila

This time, the fun left your girlfriend’s voice and face. This makes you shudder from the inside, the main flaw of the brunette being undoubtedly her jealousy. This has already highlighted some tensions between you, but you have always been able to communicate in order to avoid too much conflict.

"It’s nobody" you respond quickly to Leila, to whom you have already mentioned her existence, you are almost sure of it. "And no, it’s not Aida. Can we change the subject now, please?"

Groaning in her beard, Jenni finally accepts your request, even if she specifies that you pay nothing to wait. You roll your eyes again and peck the last crumbs on your plate while Jenni apologizes to go to the toilet.

As soon as she has her heels turned, you feel Leila leaning in your direction.

"Who’s Aida?" asks the brunette again.

You sigh softly and shift your attention to Leila. You’re relieved that your sister went to the bathroom quickly after that, or you know that your girlfriend would have had her blood blown out until you two were alone.

"One of my colleagues Babe, I already told you about it" you answer in a low voice, leaning mechanically too in her direction.

Leila answers nothing, content to look at you at length with her black eyes, arms crossed on her chest. She’s too far away for you to catch her hand, so you try to keep eye contact with her.

"Leila stop, we already discussed it. You have no reason to be jealous"

A few seconds pass during which Leila seems to pass you to the X-ray using her eyes. Time seems to last you a little too long, you end up arching an eyebrow in her direction.

"And excuse me, but if one of them should be jealous, it’s me. You’re the one who’s tactile with all your friends and you’re the one who’s got edits of your person on TikTok. Not me."

You see Leila’s face relaxing under the effect of her surprise. You’ve never mentioned these two things until now and this may not be the best time to do so since your older sister was reappearing next to you two. She seems surprised by your two sulky faces and your similar position, your arms crossed on your chests.

"Uh… is everything okay?" she asks while sitting next to you.

You nod your head while Leila just grunts for a simple answer.

"I have to go." You suddenly decide "See you before you go, right?"

Jenni answers yes, probably a little surprised by your quick departure. She stands up in turn to put a kiss on your cheek and take you in her arms.

"Do you need a ride? Where are you going?"

You know perfectly well that Leila’s question is not innocent but on the other hand the kindness and helpfulness of the brunette alone could explain the proposal. But, on your side, if you had to describe yourself in one flaw, it’s impulsivity. You prefer to talk about spontaneity, but that’s why you find yourself answering her sarcastically

"Seeing Aida, what else?"

The flash of anger and jealousy passing through Leila’s face is very fast, but visible to you. And apparently to Jenni as well.

Still standing, Jenni lets go of a surprise exclamation before pointing at Leila.

"It’s you!"

"Huh?" Leila replies, turning to Jenni, having forgotten for a split second her presence.

"The lion and the burning heart! It’s you!"

"She puts a burning heart next to the lion?"

Leila’s question makes you hit your forehead with your hand. It’s a disaster. She could have responded positively to Jenni’s question that it would have come back to the same thing.

Your sister remains silent for a long time, her gaze passing from Leila to you many times. She opens her mouth several times before finally finding the words that dare to suit her. For your part, your heart rate is so high that you wonder if your heart is not trying to come out of your chest.

"Why didn’t you tell me before?"

You sigh softly, leaning against the bench on which Leila is installed.

"I told you. You traumatized all my last girlfriends Jenni, I’m sure some of them even changed countries after you finished talking to them. I didn’t want this to happen this time."

You feel Leila’s gaze rise on you, you have after all just confided that this relationship is important to you.

"Your ex-girlfriends were selfish first-league idiots" grumbled Jenni rolling her eyes at her turn. "I know Leila isn’t"

You pout a little before shrugging. You’re not sure that if she hadn’t faced the fact her reaction would have been the same. If you had told her about your relationship with Leila when it took place, you are convinced that things would have been different.

"How long has it been?" keeps asking Jenni.

"A year and a half" answers Leila for you.

The information seems to surprise your sister as she bows her eyebrows at you. You mumble an excuse and shrug.

"Well, it doesn’t look like I have a something to say anyway" sighs Jenni as Leila pulls you by the arm to make you sit next to her.

You let yourself be willingly, the revelations of the last minutes making you forget that you managed to argue while Jenni went to the toilet. Jenni sits down again, looking at you carefully, before pointing again at Leila.

"You’re my friend Leila. But I swear to God, if you hurt her, you’re still six feet under."

#woso x reader #woso imagine #leila ouahabi imagine #leila ouahabi x reader #leila ouahabi

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gracieheartspedro · 7 months

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Somewhere With You

Part 4 of How Long

pairing: f!reader x brother-in-law!joel miller

FIND Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 HERE!!

description: sleeping with your exes brother is one thing, but envisioning a whole life with him? that's a dangerous game. but you did it. now you're here, and tommy is fucking pissed.

word count: 5.3k

warnings: MINORS DNI! this is 18+, pre!outbreak joel, there is smut in this part!! fear of being caught by sarah?, unprotected p in v, oral sex (f receiving), joel is a CONSENT KING, dirty talk, overstimulation, titty fucking (yw caly), light violence, tommy is literally evil.

author's note: jesus christ i'm so glad I am finally here with this. I feel like finishing this is my greatest success in life lmao. I will probably continue this series but this is the last part for a while. I appreciate everyone's love on it and I can't wait to get more stuff out to y'all!

“Are we going to have a celebration when we get home?”

Joel laughs, “Yeah, we can. What did you wanna do?”

You just listen to Sarah list off all the possible ways to celebrate winning the tournament. The movies, going to the mall for new jeans, going to the local ice cream parlor every night of the week. Joel shakes his head at that one as he turns the truck onto the highway. You have your knees up to your chest, the zip up Joel let you borrow hanging off your shoulders. You had complained about how cold you were all weekend, so Joel shut you up by tossing you his zip up. You haven’t taken it off since.

The sun was setting over the horizon, drawing the Sunday to a close. You had to work in the morning and you were dreading concluding the weekend you spent with Joel and Sarah.

Everything with them seems natural. It felt like family.

You did not want to face tomorrow, especially when there was no set plans as to when you would be hanging out with them again.

Luckily, Sarah has not mentioned much of anything about what she saw early Saturday morning, so there was no awkward tension. The only time it came up was when you all were tired from Saturday’s events and you arrived back to the hotel room.

“You two sleeping together tonight, too?” She asked, her eyes heavy with exhaustion. She wasn’t even trying to be rude or demeaning, she just wanted to know if she could fall asleep in one of the beds without being stirred.

“Yeah, you can have that bed hun.” Joel answered.

Sitting on those horribly uncomfortable bleachers and cheering Sarah on had taken a lot out of you, so you were ready to throw yourself into the plush mattress, too.

You watched Sarah throw herself onto of the comforter, sinking into the pillows face first. It makes you giggle while you grab your pajamas to change.

Joel nudges you while you dig through your duffle, “No funny business tonight, ma’am.”

You shake your head, his comment making your stomach turn upside down with nerves. You smack his chest with the back of your hand, “No duh, asshole.”

Sarah puts her headphones on, drowning out Joel’s humming to an old country song. You just stare ahead, watching him speed pass car after car. His truck revs every time he does it which makes you clench your knees a bit tighter.

“In a rush, dear?”

The nickname makes his heart race.

He taps his fingers, trying to act like that nickname doesn’t drive him insane. “Want to make sure to get you home so you can be rested up for work in the morning.”

“That’s mighty sweet of you, but take your time. I’m in no rush.”

He eases off the gas a bit, taking your advice.

“You talk to your Mama lately? She still likin’ Maine?”

It wasn’t a question you were expecting coming from Joel. You had told him about your mom around the time that she moved away, however long ago that was. You truly didn’t expect him to even remember.

“We talk every week, she likes it there. Wants me to come experience a winter there, so I may go up for Christmas,” You explain, remembering back to conversation you two just had last week. She wanted you to feel what fluffy snow felt like and maybe go skiing with her.

It makes Joel’s heart sink a bit. Not because you would be visiting your mother, but instead you would not be here to spend Christmas with him and Sarah. He had already planned on making a spot for you at the dining table.

“That’d be nice,” He licks his lips, contemplating if he should say what he really wants to say, “‘M bettin’ she misses seein’ your beautiful face everyday.”

You smile, your cheeks burning hot at Joel calling you beautiful. You knew you had to throw him off and give him a sarcastic response to keep him on his toes.

“Gonna freeze my ass off there. May have to borrow some of your flannels.”

He chuckles, tilting his head towards you, “You already havta’ have about four of my t-shirts, now that hoodie. You wanna raid me some more?”

“If I’m remembering correctly, you said I just had to “get with you” to get clothes,” You’re whispering, leaning into him. You don’t want Sarah to hear the words you’re speaking to her father, “How many times do we need to go at it before I get one of those denim jackets you own?”

He peers over at you. You smirk, quirking one eyebrow up.

“You with me to get my clothes or somethin’?”

“That and other things,” You tease, pulling away, leaning your back against the seat again.

Joel peers into the rear view mirror. Sarah is asleep, her headphones blasting her favorite pop album. He tilts his head towards you, his eyes not leaving the road, “You’ll havta remind me of those other things when we get home.”

He could get used to always having you in his passenger seat.

Sarah was dead asleep in the backseat, so you both decided to get all the stuff from the back inside before nudging her awake. You quietly shut the door, grabbing Joel’s one bag from the driveway and slinging it over your shoulder.

You follow close behind him as he unlocks the front door and places Sarah’s stuff on the staircase.

The idea of having to leave made you want to scream. You didn’t feel like driving home and laying lonely in your own bed. You didn’t want to resume your boring life at work. You just wanted him.

This weekend made you realize that you really couldn’t live without him. You’re not only comfortable around him, but he’s exciting. He cracks jokes and compliments you when you don’t expect it. Those couple of months without him were still months he was plaguing your mind, even though he wasn’t physically around you.

You snap out of your thoughts quickly. You start watching Joel’s muscles restrict over his gray t-shirt and it’s enough to send you to your knees. You didn’t even realize how crazy he was driving you. His messy curls that were trapped under a hat most of the weekend are finally loose and curling up his neck. And the way his jeans hugged his ass while he walked away from you? You didn’t know how long to could refrain from telling him you needed him, right this second.

“I may call out tomorrow. Too tired to sit on my computer all day and run reports,” You say while he wonders back to you from his bedroom down the hall. You’re hoping it leads to an offer.

He nods, tossing his keys on the entry table next to you,“Yeah, I am off tomorrow. Have to get this house in order and make sure Sarah actually wakes up for school in the morning.”

No offer. Maybe you could propose it?

“Maybe I could just spend the night.”

The air is thick instantly with tension. You can hear the hitch in his throat. Once you say it, you realize how desperate you must sound. But you want to be able to lay next to him again. You want and need him.

“If that’s what you wanna do, sweetheart. I don’t mind none. Love havin’ you here.”

He grabs your waist lazily, pulling you into his chest. The connection sends chills down your arms.

“Are you sure? I don’t want to you to think I’m being needy.”

He doesn’t even hesitate, he just bows his head to capture your lips with his, giving you a slow sensual kiss. You move your hands up to his neck, pulling him down further into you, eager to be close to him.

When he realizes that’s where it’s going, he pulls up for air.

“Lemme go get the last couple bags and get Sarah inside.”

As he says that, the door flings open behind you. A sleepy Sarah blinks at both of you, shaking her head instantly when she sees her Dad’s arms wrapped around you. You push back, flinging yourself backwards and away from Joel.

“Can you lovebirds do that somewhere else,” She groans, while rubbing her eyes, “Don’t need another sibling created right in front of m-”

“Sarah Jane!”

You smile when Joel drops onto his mattress with a huff.

“So…” You drift off, crawling onto Joel’s lap, “You come here often?”

He chuckles, his hands beginning to trail your waist.

“Come here quite often, actually,” He jokes, his hands resting right under your shirt and on your hips. “How about you?”

You hum, “Not really. Maybe a couple times. Would love to come around, more though.”

“That so?”

You lean down, using your fingers to pull back his brown locks and pivot his head upward. You kiss him gingerly, smiling at his small groan.

You pull away, “I’d love to come to your bed every night, Joel Miller.”

The guttural moan he makes sends a rush to your core. He grabs the nape of your neck and brings you back down to his lips. He takes control of your movements, switching positions by gently laying you back. He leans over your body, his lips carrying the weight of his emotion. You’re scrambling though, tugging at his shirt, trying to rid it off his body. He pulls away to throw it off his body, motioning you to do the same. Soon, you two are completely naked.

“I never get sick of this view,” He rasps, his eyes raking your body.

You smirk, “Back atcha, babe.”

He positions himself on top of you, his lips lingering on your neck and collarbones.

Joel’s kisses are always intentional. It’s like he knows every pressure point on your body. His lips are always wet and supple, dragging across your soft skin.

When his mouth reaches the skin around your breast, you start to arch up for more contact. He grabs your stomach, pushing it softly down onto the bed.

“Patience, baby,” He mumbles, kissing the same area on the other breast. You jerk up again, absentmindedly.

“Can’t help it,” You whine, trying not to sound so desperate.

He clicks his tongue, “You can and you will.”

His lips wrap around your nipple and you just watch with hooded lids. His eyes are closed, so focus on teasing every inch of your body. You can feel the slick pool between your legs at the sight.

“Joel, please.”

He releases the pink nub, “What, baby? Use those words.”

“I want you all over, Joel.”

“Yeah? Where? Here?”

He grabs your breast roughly, making you mewl.

You finally gesture down. Your hand slides between your legs, dragging up and down your own slit. You gather as much slick as you can, bringing it up to Joel’s surprised expression.

“I see…” He brings your fingers up to his lips. You gape at his next actions, amazed that he’s so filthy. He takes your two fingers and licks them like a popsicle. You audible sigh as he sucks on your fingers like a man starved.

“You goin’ to be extra good for me?” He asks when your digits escape his mouth.

“Always am.”

Your voice is shaky when you say it. It makes Joel smirk. He loves when you sound ruined.

“Love hearing those words come out of your pretty little mouth.”

He crawls down your body, peppering kisses from your stomach down to your thighs. You watch him closely as he props your thighs over his shoulders. He does not waste time, diving straight into your divine center. You try to refrain from screaming his name, knowing Sarah may not be asleep yet. You clap your hand over your mouth while he licks your sensitive clit. He lays his tongue flat, pressing into you as he shakes his head back and forth. When he does that, you yelp into your palm.

“Mmm, baby girl wants to be loud so bad,” He chuckles darkly, using his fingers to spread your lips, “You wanna be loud for me huh?”

“Yes, please, God,” You pant, “Need you in me, Joel.”

“Yeah? Lets stretch you out a bit,” He doesn’t even give any warning when he sinks his fingers inside your pussy. “Gotta make sure you’re nice and ready, baby girl. Want you to cum before I stick this cock in ya.”

You swallow, letting him take the lead like usual. You liked it this way, when he ravishes you with his abilities and you get to cum several times. You never had sex like this in your life, especially consistently.

His fingers curl inside you, pumping in and out. You can hear how wet you are, the wetness sequelching against Joel’s fingers. Your pussy is graced with his tongue again while he fucks you with his digits. It’s like it’s pulled out of you. The orgasm sends white hot flashes to your vision. You know you’re saying something, but it’s no word in the English language.

When you come back down from euphoria, Joel’s ontop of you again. He’s kissing your cheeks, mumbling something about how beautiful you are when you cum.

“Joel, please,” Your hands grab onto his biceps, “Want you inside me.”

His cock drags along your navel, as he situates himself between your legs.

“Yeah? Always so eager,” He grabs his cock with his free hand, “Wanna try something a little different?”

Your stomach drops, “Like what?”

He toys with your nipple with his pointer and thumb, “Always wanted to fuck these.”

You smirk at the thought, your stomach finally at ease.

“You want to fuck my titties, Joel?”

“If you’ll let me,” He squeezes your boob gently, “Think these things are perfect. Want my cock right between them.”

You nod, “Fuck ‘em then, baby.”

He pulls you up, practically shoving you on the ground beside his bed. He wasn’t being aggressive, just guiding you to follow his lead. You sit on your knees, watching up at him as he pumps his cock over you. You use both hands to push your tits together. He grins as he touches the head of his cock to your hard nipples.

“So good for me,” He groans, slipping his cock between your cleavage, “Obeyin’ me and doin’ everythin’ I want. My fuckin’ dream girl.”

He starts to fuck your squeezed together tits as you stare up at him with a completely spent expression. You dribble some spit down between the break in your breast to lube up the area. Your pupils are blown and you feel the wetness of you slit soaking the skin of your legs. You can tell by the look on Joel’s face that he could cum at the sight of you.

But he stops and instead, grabs your bicep and tosses you back on the bed. You watch him crawl up between your legs, his face untamed and filled with anticipation.

“Need to cum in that pussy,” He pumps it a couple times before slipping in between your pussy lips, “Do you need me to put on a condom or anything? I don’t have to fuck you raw every time.”

You bite your lip, “I like feeling every part of you, Joel. I promise.”

“Mmm,” He hums, sinking his cock head inside you, “Love to hear that, baby.”

You circle your hips, practically fiening for him to sink all the way into you. He takes the hint, plunging into you with one snap. Once he’s finally sheathed in you, you groan out which only instigates him. He draws out and back in, his pace painstakingly slow. You grip onto his forearms, digging your nails into them. Maybe he will take the hint that you need it faster.

But, no.

“Words, darlin’. Tell me what you need.”

You choke out the words, “Faster. Harder.”

He kisses your lips, shushing you as his tempo picks up. He wants to feel the vibrations of your moans. He knows if you’re too loud there may be listening ears, so kissing you will hush the sounds of pleasure. He sits up and repositions, grabbing the back of both of your legs, practically folding you in half. You smirk in delight, watching his furrowed expression focus on your body’s reactions.

“This pussy is mine,” He huffs, watching himself plow into you, “All fuckin’ mine. Ya know that?”

“Yes,” You manage to peep out, “It’s yours, Joel.”

“Jesus fuckin’ Christ,” He spreads your legs, opening you up nice and wide. His thumb finds your responsive clit, circling it with the momentum of his hips, “Cum for me, baby. Soak this fuckin’ cock.”

Your body reacts in the way he finds so satisfying. Your hips lift up as the climax takes over, your whole body shaking at the ecstasy he brings you. He doesn’t let up, chasing his own bliss. You are so overstimulated, you are just gasping for air. He starts to falter, his pace slowing as he coats your insides with his cum.

You start to chuckle when his body practically collapses onto you. His sweaty curls stick to your perspiring cheek. You find yourself kissing his temple, practically thanking him for fucking you so good every time.

He stands up, his half-hard dick slipping out of you pain-stakingly slow. You whimper at the feeling, still a mess from your orgasm.

“God, you are perfect,” He mumbles, his hand slipping down your bare thigh, “Could fuck you every day for the rest of my life.”

You are still awestruck by the interaction, you don’t even know you’re saying it, “Why don’t you?”

He smiles while he helps you sit up, “I will. Now let’s get you all showered and ready for bed, huh?”

“Yes, please.”

Luckily for you, your body naturally wakes up at 5:30AM. You creep out of the bedroom, making sure not to stir Joel awake. You find the house phone and call your boss, letting her know you were “sick” and needed to use a sick day. She just mumbled a “whatever” and you hung up, heading back to the warmth of Joel’s bed.

Joel wakes up as soon as you crawl back into bed, but he knew he had to get up and make sure Sarah got ready and off to school, anway. He cuddles you for a bit, watching you nod back off to sleep. He let you sleep in while he cleaned up the house a bit. He tries his best not to much too much noise, not wanting to rattle you awake.

You did wake back up when you heard the vacuum. You pull yourself together, putting your hair up into a bun as you stumble out of the bedroom. Joel stands in the living room, not even aware you’re behind him. He jumps when he notices you in the threshold, turning off the vacuum.

“Mornin’ sleepin’ beauty,” He laughs as he wraps up the vacuum cord.

“Mornin’ handsome.”

You watch him roll the machine back into the hall closet before taking note to how nice and clean the house looked.

“Looks good in here,” You mumble, noting how every surface looks dusted, “It’s missing one thing. You have a vase?”

He silently nods, looking at you confused.

“Go fill it with water, I’ll be back.”

You walk towards the front door, swinging it open as you begin tip toeing to Joel’s side garden. He had started it with Sarah years ago, and for the most part, it was completely overgrown. Some flowers still bloom in the Texas sun, so you pick the prettiest from the dirt. Once you have a bundle, you practically jog inside to show Joel your bouquet.

“Hmm,” He smirks, “Didn’t think we needed flowers.”

“Well, you do.”

He shows you the vase on the coffee table, letting you take on the responsibility to make it pretty. He watches you carefully, your tired eyes trained on the task.

You were his dream girl, truly.

Once you’re satisfied with your arrangement, you make a grand gesture.

“Beautiful, baby,” He beams, wrapping his arms around your waist. He drops down onto the couch, pulling you into his lap.

“Who me or the flowers?” You joke.

“Both.”

You give him a lazy kiss, smirking into it.

This part of life with Joel is so domestic and perfect. You two could create this little world and live in it forever. He appreciated your silly antics, knowing how neglected this side of you must have been with Tommy. He didn’t care about the small gestures like Joel did.

It was so reassuring being with Joel. He praised you like you had never been before.

As you pull away from his lips, you hear a door slam outside. Before you could even react, the front door swings open into the house. You sit on Joel’s lap, turned away from the front door, completely dumbfounded.

“What is going on here?”

His voice scares you. You don’t even want to turn around in Joel’s lap to face him. Joel slowly helps you out of his lap, his eyes never leaving Tommy’s.

When you finally turn to face Tommy, his eyes are wild and bright red. He looks like he hasn’t showered in days, his longer hair greasy and standing in all sorts of directions. It’s not his appearance that scares you, it’s the energy he’s brought into Joel’s living room. It’s the same scary tension you experienced when he lashed out on you before.

Joel finally speaks up, clearing his throat. “What do you mean?”

But Tommy isn’t talking to Joel. He’s looking at you.

“Are you fuckin’ my brother?”

He’s pointing at you, his finger waving at you like an adult who’s scolding a child. You open your mouth, but you can’t say anything. Your throat is dry, the shock and terror taking ahold of your vocal chords.

“Tommy, we aren’t doing this.”

Joel puts himself in between Tommy and you, ensuring he doesn’t creep closer to you. You want to believe Tommy would never get physical with you, but the way he looks now, you’re not one hundred percent positive.

“That’s not what I fuckin’ asking, Joel. Are you two sleepin’ together?”

His voice is booming, bouncing off every corner of the room. It makes you shrink three sizes.

Joel places his head up, warning him silently not to get any closer, “Tommy-”

“Answer the fuckin’ question!”

You want to curl into a ball. You knew this would fucking happen. You knew he’d go insane.

You look at Joel finally. You realize your eyes were trained on Tommy in terror, unsure on how to console him. Joel licks his lips, rolling his eyes a bit. You just nod, trying to answer Tommy’s question without saying anything. You didn’t want him to realize how shaky your voice was.

Once he gets confirmation, all hell breaks loose. He’s pushing on Joel with his chest, screaming expletives at him. You stand in the corner of the living room, your body practically wedged between a lamp and the couch. You want to become one of the dustbunnies on the floor boards, not wanting to be apart of this situation.

“You’re a fuckin’ asshole! You fucked my girl-“

Before he can even finish the statement, Joel becomes a brick wall. He’s staring down at Tommy now, all the while snot is running down at his little brother’s face. He looked pathetic. As he nudges Joel’s chest, he hardly moves a milimeter. Joel doesn’t even hesitate when he says the next words.

“Not your girl.”

You truly cannot believe the words coming out of Joel’s mouth. You knew what he was insinuating and it brought chills up your back. Tommy’s movements completely halt and he stands there in a stunned silence. Joel’s jaw is slack, his eyes trained down at Tommy. It’s a stand-off.

Tommy crooks his head to the side, like he’s stretching it. “You want to pull that shit now, Joel? I knew you wanted my sloppy seconds the moment you told me she was at your house that night.”

Being referred as “sloppy seconds” makes your blood boil. It’s so dehumanizing.

“Stop talking about her like that,” Joel warns, his voice a whole octave lower.

“No,” Tommy growls, his gaze finally falling on you again, “You’re a whore. Just like your stupid sister.”

You swallow hard. It’s finally your moment to shine. The burst of adrenaline chorusing through your veins finally propels you forward, pushing Joel out of your way.

“You’re the town whore, Tommy Miller. You fucked your way around Austin and then came home to me every night,” You are shaking. Luckily, your voice isn’t wavering, “You lie. You cheat. You are a decietiful little shit. And I’m so glad you are because if you hadn’t slept with my sister and told me, I would have never realized how terrible you were to me all these years. I wasted so much time on babying you.”

The vein in his forehead is bulging and it makes you smile a bit.

“If I could go back in time, I would’ve saved my fucking tears and ran the other direction.”

He has the audacity to giggle, “Instead you ran right into Joel’s arms.”

You don’t hesitate, “You never gave a damn about me, he actually did. I should’ve taken the hint the moment he brought me flowers for my graduation, and you showed up with a flask.”

“You graduated college! Big fuckin’ deal! Get over yourself!”

Now you’re laughing.

“Bite me, Tommy,” You reach out and grab his t-shirt, pulling him into you. It makes Joel super nervous how close he is to you. He knows Tommy’s temper and how easily he will snap. He doesn’t know the next words about to come out of your mouth.

“You cheated on me, you fucking loser. I told you then we were done that night, did I not? What I did after that point is not your business. I’m not yours anymore. And your brother, he treats me real good. Way better than you ever did. He can actually last, unlike you,” You smack your lips together, “He can fuck me better than you, that’s for sure.”

Joel’s eyes widen at the words. Tommy looks completely dazed, but as soon as the last line leaves your mouth, he pushes you backward, right into Joel. You squeak at the contact, your brain registering that he actually put his hands on you. Joel quickly grabs you from tripping over him, and places you behind him quickly. Tommy reaches out for you, but Joel stops him meer inches from your face.

“Fuck you!”

Tommy tries to throw his hand at Joel’s head next but it’s quickly stopped by Joel’s forearm. Instead of Tommy continuing the fight with you two, he takes it out on the new flowers and vase you just put out on Joel’s coffee table. He uses all his force, grabbing the vase and launching it towards the wall. The glasses shatters, water splashes on the wall, and pieces of flowers litter the floor.

The action sends Joel pushing Tommy backward and against the wall. You want to yell out for them to stop, but all that comes out his Joel’s name.

When he pins Tommy to the wall, he finally turns to you.

“Don’t.”

It’s the only word you can say. You’re shaking, your eyes welling with tears. Joel knows you don’t want to see him demolish Tommy with his fists, so he thinks quick. He grabs Tommy’s collar, dragging him out the front door.

You follow far behind, not sure what Joel’s gameplan is.

Tommy is yelling, telling Joel to unhand him. Joel just tightens his grip.

“Coming into my house, talking to my girl like that. Fuckin’ disrespectful little shit.”

“Fuck you, Joel,” Tommy yells, his voice probably waking the neighbors. Joel launches Tommy’s body into the front yard, right near the flower bed. You watch from the doorway, wanting to keep your distance from the confrontation.

“Remember when you had temper tantrums when Momma told you no as a boy? Nothings changed. You’re an immature little brat.”

Joel reaches down into the flower bed, grabbing the hose. Tommy is still on the ground, scrambling to get up. Joel does something so unexpected, it makes you yelp. He starts soaking Tommy with the hose.

“Yeah, like the girl said before,” He aims towards Tommy’s face, “bite me.”

Tommy starts to spit up water, jumping up and away from the stream of water. Instead of tackling Joel like you anticipate, he just shakingly wipes his hair out of his eyes.

“You two are sick. Fuckin’ sick. And everyone will know about this.”

It makes your heart sink to your stomach. You don’t really care if anyone knows anymore. You knew this was going to be the worst part, but its the way he makes it sound like a threat.

“I bet they will, I just don’t give a damn.”

Joel sprays him while he stands up, making Tommy groan and yell out in annoyance. Joel just smiles, sickly.

Tommy storms off to his truck, dripping wet from the shower Joel just gave him on his front lawn. Joel tosses the hose back into the garden, satisfied with his work. You two stand there, watching Tommy do a burn out and speed off down the road. You breathe out loud, your hands finding your face. Joel glances between his neighbour’s houses, ensuring there is no one outside watching the events unfold. He did not care if they did watch, but he knew you would probably care.

He grabs ahold of your shoulders, guiding you back inside the house. Your eyes instantly fall on all the shattered glass and flowers as you walk inside. Joel ignores it and brings you into the kitchen.

Your mind is racing. You knew every word you said to Tommy was right deep down. But the girl you were, she wouldn’t have instigated his rage. She would’ve sat there and took every word he said to heart and believed them.

But the girl you are now, that girl is completely ruthless. You are petty. You are harsh. You are angry.

You kind of scared yourself.

“Joel-”

“No baby,” he mutters, “You better not say what I think you’re gonna say.”

“Joel, we can’t d-”

“We can. Because fuck Tommy. Fuck everyone,” He grabs your hips, letting his hands settle softly on your curves, “I want you. I want you so bad. I am not lettin’ you get away. Tommy can tell everyone in the fuckin’ world about us, and I won’t fuckin’ care. What he says doesn’t reflect you. You did nothin’ wrong. Okay?”

You swallow. You know he’s right, but you’re so scared of all this fallout. You don’t want it to scare you away from Joel, but it’s nervewracking to wait around and anticipate all of the chaos that will follow this incident. You did not want to tear apart a family. It’s the same feeling you had the morning after you first slept with Joel.

You’re scared to have him because of what it means for him. It means weird holidays and weird stares at grocery stores. It means you will be known as his brother’s ex girlfriend never just his girl.

You don’t realize it, but you’re staring past Joel. He tilts your head towards him, making your eyes connect.

“I love you, okay?”

His words make your heart flutter with relief. Maybe that’s what you needed. You needed him to finally say those words. Because those words were hanging in the back of your mind, simmering, waiting to be said.

“I love you, too, Joel.”

#joel miller smut #joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller fic #pedro pascal #the last of us #joel miller the last of us #joel miller x reader smut #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x fem!reader #joel miller x you #tlou fanfiction #tlou fic #gracieheartspedro

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blackheart-6 · 16 days

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noelle holiday age progression chart

without height lines

explanations of designs:

hi yall

so, i actually finished this drawing like a week ago lol. but i didnt want to post a bunch of drawing in a row, and then i got sick, so i havent been able to post it till now!

its my imaginings of what noelle looked like as she grew up, and a potential adult noelle design! ill explain my thought processes about these designs below, if anyones interested 😁

i also plan on doing one of these with dess, but this one was pretty difficult, so it might be awhile before that (unless yalls are interested in seeing it?)

first off, im not 100% sure ill keep using all these designs. some of them im not that happy with (im no good at designing outfits 😔) but i just went with them so i could finish the drawing. so if anyone has any alternative outfit ideas for any of her ages, id be interested in seeing/hearing it!

secondly, something that may stick out to yall for all the designs is how tall she gets. its the same height i normally draw her with, but given how i usually draw her by herself you cant really tell how tall she is! i have 3 main reasons for why i headcanon her as this tall: deer are pretty tall irl, so having her be tall makes sense in my head; i just like the look of her being super tall, it makes me happy lol; and third, i personally also headcanon the holiday family as boss monsters (i think ive explained this headcanon before on here, so i wont explain again, unless someone is interested ^^). so yeah, she ends up being 7 feet tall as an adult, the second tallest in her family!

also, i gave all her children forms stripes in some way, as a reference to when monster kid in undertale says they can tell frisk is a kid because of their stripes!

now onto my explainations for individual drawings!

theres nothing really to say about her baby design. the only thing i did that might be new is give her faun spots! they are most plentiful on her baby form, but they persist until shes in her teens, i would say (on here you cant see them after age 7, but thats just because i imagine they are mostly on her back). and i gave her a cute lil onsie that says a-deer-able! if you guys cant read it ^^

this outfit i made for her toddler design is actually an outfit ive used in the past! i wonder if yall know what drawing it was? its pretty much the same as it was there, i just added a stripe to the shirt. i felt like overalls are so reminiscent of childhood, i had to give at least one of her designs them! i also added a little mistletoe to the front pocket, to make it more christmas-esque. and i gave her some bandaids, just cause.

7 years old is one of the designs i really struggled on, and im still not happy with it. i dunno if ive said this yet, but i headcanon noelle to be trans, so at 7 is when i decided she started realizing it. so here i gave her long sleeves and pants, to show how shes more hidden now because shes unhappy with herself, if that makes any sense? i was also trying to make her look a bit like a nerd, with the button up and khakis, just because its funny. but yeah, ill probably end up changing this design at some point :P

11 years old was one of the easiest to do, considering how ive had her design for this age for awhile lol. one thing i did change was going from 2 red/white stripes to one, but ive done that before, so it wasnt something entirely new. i also gave her a smile and closed eyes, cause shes happy being a girl 🥰. other that that, its the same, so yeah, thats it for this part

okay, this next design is a fairly different looking one than all the rest, but i have my reasons! at this point in noelles live, dess has gone missing, so i wanted to show her being sad and stuff. i also gave her shoes and long sleeves because she probably goes out looking for dess when she can, hoping to find a lead 😭. but outside of in-story stuff, this outfit is based off of an old one i drew, but its fairly edited, so i wouldnt be surprised if no one recognizes it even if they have seen my old stuff. she has straight hair here, to show how unhappy she is (idk what it is about straight hair it just feels sad) and because i wanted to give her different hair varieties on this progression chart. i gave her antlers 2 prongs each at this point, because the way i see deer monsters, their antlers show their growth/aging, so youll see them getting bigger and having more prongs as the chart continues.

this outfit for 15 is another one i dont like. i tried to make it similar to her current outfit, but still pretty different. im not even sure what precisely i dont like about this outfit, it just doesnt feel that good. for this one i gave her leg warmers because i used to (and sometimes still do) draw her normal outfit with them. i gave her the curly hair she has as a callback to when i used to draw her hair like that! but yeah, ill probably end up redoing this one too

for 17, i just gave her the normal outfit, so it was easy ^^. in game i think shes 16, but close to turning 17, so i just went with 17 here to fit the +2 age pattern thing i had going on. i also gave her an extra horn prong than i normally give her, just to show age once again

finally, her adult design! i dont like this one either lol. i spent so long trying to think of what outfit to give her, but i couldnt come up with something i liked >.< so i just gave her something simple. i feel like once noelle graduates high school and probably goes to college she branches out more and tries things her mother never let her do, which is why i gave her an outfit like that, that has a crop top and a shorter skirt. also, yalls might recognize the hair style i gave her, i drew a potential adult noelle before and i gave her the same hair ^^

i think thats all for the post! i probably have more thoughts that im just not thinking of, but its fine for now. i hope yall enjoyed the drawing, and if you have any question or comments or whatever, go ahead and say them!! if youve made it this far, have a cookie, you must be hungry after reading so much ^^ 🍪

#art #my art #digital art #deltarune #noelle holiday #deltarune noelle #age chart #age progression chart #progression chart #finally did this #(i mentioned doing it awhile ago)#im kinda mixed on my feelings about this #but if yalls wanna know about that i talk all out it!#this took forever lol #also #trans #transgender #trans noelle #gotta love transbian noelle ^^

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coltermorning · 4 months

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A New Year to Remember (A Christmas to Remember Pt. 2, RDR2 Fanfic, Arthur Morgan x F!Reader, 18+)

Summary: With another meeting planned on the first day of the year, you eagerly await the possibilities it could bring.

Author’s Notes: I just had to write this one—it was too cute for me not to :) Part one is here.

Tags: Arthur Morgan x reader, high honor Arthur Morgan, fluff

AO3 Link

A New Year to Remember

Word count: 3238

Monday, Emerald Ranch

You clutched the concise letter in your hand, like doing so would bleed the words from the page enough to make time pass with urgency. But it wouldn’t. You would wait. This would be worth it.

It had been five days since you’d seen Arthur, five days sitting on the feeling that drawing of his had bloomed within you. He wanted your hand in marriage. You were still a little dumbfounded over it, still unbelieving you had ever earned something so good in this life, especially considering the circumstances. But he, like you, had come to know one thing—love was stronger. Consequences be damned. So you waited.

You sat under the awning at the livery, ready to rid yourself of Valentine entirely if not for the rain that fell in a torrent. It wasn’t cold enough for snow, and the downpour deterred you unlike anything the colder weather could do. All you wanted was to be in Emerald Ranch. No matter that you had two days left to wander around without cause, without purpose other than the need to see the man you loved. But the weather had other ideas. You wouldn’t find yourself ill for stubbornness either due to the drenching weather, so you would force yourself to wait, to dream, to imagine what this meeting would lead to.

The very idea of marriage had always been picturesque to you. A slow-moving march in a wedding gown. Love so full the smiles caught. Daily life made better by another, by a partner. And putting a face to the man who would stand at the other side was more fulfilling than you thought possible. Arthur’s awe as you approached him, heart in hand. His smile over getting to call you his in fondness and in name. The days yet to come, endless days made for being together and nothing more. It was too good to be true.

It wouldn’t always be easy. You knew that, though you didn’t care. It was certain the pair of you would have to leave this area of the country. Even using Arthur’s name here was dangerous, in the place where everything had gone wrong for him. Fingers pointed and blame thrown around like fire, catching, spreading, destroying everything it touched. But somehow, not him. He was pure as gold, his soul coming out more gilded for all that harrowing encounter put him through. A second chance at life. A chance to do it better this time. And oh, how much better he was when it came to you. He was a boy in a man’s clothing, his love as fragile as a bird, never knowing anything but betrayal yet wanting more still. Wanting and wanting and wanting, enough to make your heart break for him. Because you would give that to him until the end of your days, until he didn’t feel the need to want so desperately anymore. It would be natural to him one day—to love and be loved in return. You would see to it with absolute surety. Because if you knew anything about him, you knew this: a man so hardened by life, so broken by it, to still have such a strong love for the very thing that rejected him…he deserved it more than anyone. And you, of all people, had the privilege of bestowing that love on him. You would do your best to make it count. To make him believe in it once more, to never have to fear losing it. What an honor.

Sitting on an upturned crate hiding from the rain, you dragged out the journal he had given you and began to draw. You drew the feeling in your chest until it turned into Arthur on the page, your hand mimicking the love he held for you despite all odds. His hands resting on his gun belt, his broad yet relaxed shoulders, his smirking grin with a cigarette between it. All things that made him the man he was, all things that he gave to you without even knowing it. What did it mean to love someone? As you drew line after line, stroke after stroke, the image coming to you as natural as breathing, you thought you knew.

It was Monday. The first day of the new year. The rain had stopped early yesterday morning, and you had chased its end out of town and straight to Emerald Ranch. You had been not-so-patiently waiting around, wondering what time to plan on seeing him. Even your horse had grown restless beneath you, perhaps wondering why you led it in endless circles with no true destination. Alas, where you were headed couldn’t be reached by map. The thought made you smile.

You were riding through the middle of the small settlement, straight out of town only to inevitably turn back, when you heard it.

“There she is.”

The familiar voice made your heart leap, and you turned and found Arthur atop his horse, hands crossed over his saddle horn, smiling at you. For all the world, like this was the most regular meeting in it. You rolled your horse back and spurred it on, going to him, dropping to the ground before you could even pull up the reins.

“Arthur,” you said, all the happiness felt for him pouring out in the utterance. He was dismounting and pulling you into a hug in seconds, his smile contagious.

“Hey, sweetheart.”

You couldn’t be apart from him a moment longer, all the waiting around doing a number on you. You pulled away and leaned up, kissing him. Then kissing him some more. Enough that when you broke apart, he was laughing fondly, his face red as a beet.

“My drawing didn’t scare you off I see,” he said, though he knew the answer to that. You had written him within minutes of seeing the damned thing, telling him to get his ass back to town, berating him for leaving it in the first place.

“No,” you answered anyway. “Quite the opposite.”

“Hm,” he muttered, tilting his head in feigned thought. “Guess we’ll have to do something about that.” And the smug look he gave you, his face so close and so darn kissable, what he was proposing—literally proposing…

“Come on,” he said, turning before you could blink. So that’s how it would be—never knowing the moment he would pop the burning question until he did it. You smiled so wide your face ached with it, but you could only shake your head and return to your horse, mounting back up, seeing where this day would lead.

“Got a ride ahead of us,” Arthur said as he settled into his saddle. “You sure you’re up for it?”

Whether he meant the day or the rest of your life, you didn’t care. As long as you were with him.

“Lead the way, cowboy.”

The pair of you rode and rode, along winding paths, past a lake, up into the mountains where the air got thinner and the wind had a bite to it. He lead so aimlessly you were beginning to wonder if even he knew where he was going, until he stopped suddenly and said, “Here’s good.”

You just watched him swing down off his horse, a little confused. “Here?”

You were in the middle of the woods just off the path. The most nondescript place on earth.

He smirked. “What, this not good enough for you?”

“No! Not that, I just-”

“Relax,” he said, waving you off as he untied his bedroll from his horse. “Let’s leave the horses here. You up for a walk?”

You knew him, knew he didn’t like his horse being far. This was strange behavior coming from him. But it seemed he had planned this out, so you went with it anyway.

“Sure,” you answered, dismounting, tying your horse where it stood.

“Good.”

Then you walked over to him to let him lead the way. But he hung back, switching his bedroll to his other side and reaching for your hand. You grinned like a fool and took it.

“Such a sap.”

“Shut up.” But he held on tight and walked with you, not quite so big and tough as he looked for once.

He led you deeper into the woods for about a quarter mile, then up. The woods turned to rock, to hills verging on mountains. He held your hand firm, the ground uneven and littered with rocks enough to make both of you stumble a bit. Finally, the rock gave way to a flatter, more grassy spance of ground, and he stopped.

“How’s here?”

“Here’s…anywhere’s fine. Really, I didn’t mean-”

He stopped you again. “Don’t worry about it.” He finally released your hand and undid his bedroll, flaring it out to its full extent so that it fell wide to the ground. He set it down and turned to you with a mischievous look as he made to sit on it. “Care to join me?”

Gladly. You didn’t even have to respond before you were moving, missing the touch of his hand already. He settled and leaned back, and you sat close enough to lean into him, to take in the scent he wore like a second layer of clothes.

He sighed then, content as could be, content as you were. Though you couldn’t deny you were nervous. Unknowing about when he would ask what you so desperately wanted him to. But instead of worrying about that, you caught sight of the view. He had taken you high enough to overlook the trail you had ridden, the woods surrounding it. The lake below. It was a beautiful day, the storm from yesterday long gone, the sun beginning to sink in the sky and light up the trees, the water, the world. Even your two horses far below could be seen, and you understood then why he was okay with leaving them. They were never quite out of sight.

“Missed you.”

His low, warm voice was like honey, and you relaxed into it and into the feel of his hand coming up to your head, his fingers running through your hair.

“Didn’t have to, you know. Could have stayed.”

You watched the view as you said it. You would normally want to look at him, but the way his fingers tugged through your wind-tangled hair with the easiest pressure was relaxing you.

“Couldn’t have done that,” he said. “I owe my woman a little ceremony at least.”

“Mmm,” you hummed in agreement, leaning into his touch. “But you know I would have married you right there on the street. In the mud and the horseshit.” You turned to him then, smiling.

He smiled back, a flash of teeth. “I know you would, darlin’. But you deserve more than that.”

He admired you a moment before reaching around himself, into his satchel. Your breath caught in your chest until he pulled out a cloth full of berries—raspberries. Your favorite. He offered them to you, and you happily obliged.

Soon, you were both eating them and talking about the day, about your time spent apart, about your lives. He told you about his past, most of which you already knew, but he delved into his childhood, his parents—subjects he had hardly breached. Even his son who had passed. He talked about how he was afraid he was turning into his father, how ashamed his mother would be over the man he had become. You countered that he was a good man, that any mother would be proud of who he was despite all he went through. He argued that he could never escape his past, no matter how good he tried to be. That his son was killed by the same type of man he was. You shut that down quickly, saying he would never kill a child. Then his words became slow and strained, explaining how terrified he was of starting a life with you. How scared he was of losing you too. That no matter how far the two of you went, his past would always catch up to him. You just shook your head, the guilt written across his face crushing you. Then told him simply life was too short to worry with that. That you would rather have him and lose him than not have him at all. He went quiet then. And you let him be, berries long since eaten, sun sinking lower. You let him wage war within himself, decide who he wanted to be. No one could make that decision but him.

After long enough that the sun was beginning its final descent, his hand found the back of your head, and he pulled you to him in a kiss. One hard, heart-felt, emotion-filled kiss. He started taking your breath away, leaning into you. But just as quickly as that passion had flared, he stopped, pulling back, breathing heavy. Holding your face in his hands.

“I love you.”

His eyes met yours. And what you found lying within them made you smile. He had made up his mind.

“I love you,” you answered. Nothing on this earth truer.

He rose. Frozen with sudden nerves, you just watched him as he looked down at the horses, his expression clouded like he was making up his mind. Then he looked at you and offered you his hand.

“I have an idea.”

You took it without asking for more, though your curiosity was burning with the unanswered question. When will he do it?

Once you were on your feet, he turned and whistled for his horse. You did the same, both mounts running up the rocky hillside in response. They navigated the loose shale well and were soon greeting you with ears pricked.

Arthur rolled up his bedroll, the place you had sat lacking any evidence you had been here. It seemed strange—such a perfect place for Arthur to ask you to spend the rest of your life with him. But he hadn’t and was instead tying his bedroll down on his horse’s back, smiling at some unknown thought.

“I want to show you something,” he said, turning to you. “Will you ride with me?”

What you wanted to ask was how far. Instead you answered truthfully, “Of course.” And you mounted without hesitation, your curiosity making you smile, especially when it came in the form of this man’s fondness for you.

Soon you were back on the trail, having headed back down the mountain then west. The path slowly turned north, beautiful in the late-day sun. It was going higher up and rockier still, treacherous if not for the well-minded horses below you. Then Arthur was once again straying off the path when it flattened out, taking his mount into the grass that had grown up between the rock despite itself.

Then you caught sight of the view.

You hadn’t realized you’d stopped until Arthur turned his horse, looking back at you with a smile. “You coming or what?”

“Arthur, this is…” Stunning. Absolutely stunning. The entire country seemed to lay out before you, the height of the land making you the tallest thing on earth.

“I know,” he said, dismounting. “Come on.” And when you swung off your horse too, he walked over and took your hand, still facing you as he said, “You didn’t think I’d lead you on some wild goose chase without a view, did you?”

“Where we were before was a view,” you said. “This is something else.”

You let him lead you onward with a smile, closer to the edge of the mountain, toward where the sky stretched into endless day. You could see Emerald Ranch, all of the heartlands, even a bit of Valentine. So far south you could just make out the lake that looked to be more of an ocean from here.

“Pretty, ain’t it?”

“How’d you come upon this place?” you asked, turning to him. Though he had already been looking at you, his soft smile breaking over you in its endearment.

“Did some traveling around these parts a few years back. Believe it or not, there used to be some sort of monk or some other crazy who sat at that cliff edge all day, taking it all in,” he said, gesturing to where the mountain ended and the sky began. “So I guess you have him to thank for introducing me to the view.”

“I have you to thank for this,” you said softly, stepping forward and letting Arthur’s hand drop. You walked all the way to the edge. This was worth filling page after page of your journal with. If you had known about it sooner, it would be what covered Arthur’s shotgun stock. It was so vast and powerful, you could feel your heart racing with it. Enough to make a person ponder their small existence. Unlike anything you’d ever seen. And when you turned to tell Arthur so, he was kneeling.

Your mind stopped turning. Stopped working entirely.

He was down on one knee, looking up at you like you held all the love in the world. In love with you. He held something small and shiny between his fingers.

“Y/N,” he started gently, his voice shot through with care. He held up the ring, a small, gold thing. You had thought before that a ring didn’t matter, that you would marry him without one in a heartbeat. While that still held, seeing the small band now with its tiny, sparkling gem—your favorite color…

“I have loved you for as long as I’ve known you.” You felt tears fill your eyes for the way that he said it. Raw.

“You’re the only person I want to spend every day with. The rest of my life with. In fact it…scares the hell out of me how much I like you.” He smiled as he said it, and you let out a laugh through your tears.

“So, Y/N Y/L/N…” He looked you straight in the eye. “Would you do me the honor of marryin’ me?”

There was no question in you. Not a shred of doubt. In a blink, you were falling to your knees before him and grabbing his face and kissing him and saying, “Yes,” over and over, kissing the word into his mouth. He just let you, kissing you back. And when you finally broke away to look into his eyes, he was pulling your left hand toward him, placing the ring on your finger with a look so proud that your chest tightened with it. He just admired it a moment, that ring on your hand.

Then he met your eye and smiled wide, muttering, “Looks like you’re stuck with me now,” before tackling you backward in a grinning kiss.

You were both laughing into each other’s mouths, high on the feeling of mutual love. Of belonging to each other. And when he rose up onto his palms above you, grinning down as he told you he loved you again, you took his face in your newly-ringed hand.

“I love you, Arthur Morgan.”

His eyes skipped between yours, his grin contagious. “Y/N Morgan. I like the sound of that.”

“Me too.” And he was on you again, kissing your breath away, happy like you had never seen him.

Yours.

#arthur morgan #arthur morgan x reader #arthur morgan x female reader #high honor arthur morgan #rdr2 arthur morgan #rdr2 fanfic #rdr2 #fanfic #writing

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guppyfish77 · 4 months

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Another year Another summary of Art! An Entire Year of Submas lets gooooooooooo!!!! This year I feel like I really pushed myself when it comes to illustrations and I feel like I've learned a lot! But at the same time I feel a little tired, next year I think I wanna relax and experiment a bit more, I gotta learn to loosen up! Might get more art out if I do :p

I also feel the Submas grip ever so lightly relaxing (unless they decide to do Unova remakes haha XD), so I might introduce some of my numerous ocs in 2024! I'll probably start with the conductor oc ;]

Thank you for all your support! (you are all very nice! ToT), I still have a good amount of submas stuff planned in the works so look forward to that (๑•̀ㅂ•́)و✧

If you are interested, I also have some commentary and behind the scenes for some of my submas illustrations! I wanna talk about it and now seems like a good time to do so now that the year is over! (Beware! its going to be long!)

All titles are linked to the original post

Lunch Break

hoho! This one is the sort of AU thing in which the only thing that changes is that I give Emmet a Victini friend (not a part of his team, I dubbed them the "victory duo" because Emmet likes winning and Victini is the Victory Pokemon), I planned out a few wordless comics regarding the idea, they were all very lighthearted slice of life kind of stuff, usually Victini causing some mischief and the brothers having to deal with it

and here's the thumbnails for this piece! I played around with various angles but decided to keep it simple and choose a straight on angle. It was originally a snack break and Emmet sharing a granola bar with Victini, but as I was planning it, submas unexpectedly showed up in the Pokemon Anime where they were serving ekiben, after learning about it it quickly turned into a lunch break! (how fun when new information lines up with an art piece you are working on hoho! ^ ^) After studying what foods Ekiben usually have in them (there was quite a variety!) I took what I learned and try to make the food look like the gear station logo :D

In the background there are children drawings because in the battle subway one of the trainer classes you can face off against are preschoolers, and I thought at least one of them would share their drawings with the subway bosses (and of course why wouldn't they hang it up?), there is also a trophy in which you can get in the players room if you beat the subway bosses on the super trains (one day, battling competitively is not my forte), I did my best to make Emmet's office feel lived in by adding a little bit of clutter (like adding a note) but overall very organized

(hey hey that joltik mug looks familiar in the corner there, its the same one Rei is holding in the christmas drawing)

Bonus Emmet and Victini Drawings

aw come on dude, not on the trains!

ah this one, it gave me quite a bit of frustration! This piece I used to challenge myself on perspective, and challenge me it did! The version you see now is I believe the 6th iteration of this drawing! The reason for restarting so many times is because I originally wanted it to be in 3 point perspective, but I couldn't get it to look right so its now in 2 point... Haha Some valuable lessons learned there!

This illustration was inspired by the history of New York Subway Trains and Graffiti! I read about it when I got to visit the New York Transit Museum and found it super interesting!! Then I went I gotta do something with this! Since Unova is based in New York after all!

I got so many subway surfer comments, they don’t know I forgot subway surfers existed while making this and that I am a huge nerd lmao

I had a lot of fun designing the graffiti on the train (yes it says among us) stylizing the fictional letters was so fun! I studied some graffiti to see how they do it, I could've pushed the graffiti style more but then it would be illegible! I also mixed in elements of Grafaiai graffiti, and trainer that is running away is the artist trainer class in SCVL because they are graffiti artists! And the train that got graffitied is the Wifi Train, due to BW (and the DS) servers being shut down, I doubt that train gets used much anymore, which makes it a perfect target!

Derailed!

hohoho! This was a fun one! I'm not sure how many of you guys read my tags, but in there I did state that this piece was based off the fact that model trains are powered by electrifying the rail it runs on (very low watts mind you) and the fact that Joltik eats electricity, but thats not the only inspiration, it was also inspired by those videos of cats laying on the layout and derailing the train!

Theres quite a variety of thumbnails for this idea (including a comic!), and the idea was there in 2022, but this year I decided to fully commit to it! I started rendering the top right one and almost finished it, but it felt really boring to me, so I switched it up and made some thumbnails in a new perspective and viola! thats what ended up being finished!

The train that is being derailed are Sanriku Railway Type 36s, based off a model train I have in my collection! (While sharing this fact on the original post Haiku Bot detected it as a Haiku?! and this art went out of my target audience, that certainly was a day (⊙□⊙;))

Also I straight up put a picture of Thomas the Tank Engine in the background, I'm not sure if people noticed cuz its quite blurry, the fact that nobody said anything means I probably would’ve gotten away with it before sharing this fact, so hehe :3c

Unexplained Melancholy

eyy! this one! It started out wholly different

It was originally me dropping Warden Ingo in various natural landscapes around Hisui as I didn't feel like drawing anymore linear perspective (ah, but heres the thing, all environments require a little bit of perspective lol), and it was just going to be Warden Ingo hanging out in a lush forest, specifically by the train rock that was shown in his concept art! but after sitting on it, I realized I could do something more with it! by making it a snowy environment I could make callbacks to Emmet's coat being white! hence the "SNOWY!!!" being scribbled there, that was added like weeks afterwards, Then I realized I could push it even more by making the whole environment about Emmet's colors! So the new thumbnail is in color because thats whats its about!

The moon smile thing was stumbled on by complete accident, while working on it it felt empty there and I added Emmet's smile to fill the space before going "moon!!!"

The piece is also a sort of a parallel to last years piece “I am Emmet, I wish for Ingo and I to be a two-car train once more” composition wise, sort of, I tried to at least 👍

Black Tower and Whitetree Hollow

Ah! I was quite proud of this one! Black City and White Forest are some of my favorite places in Unova mainly because the parallels are so very cool!

As the thumbnails suggest it was all going to be in complete black and white, as I was working on it though I could not help but add some values in there so yup! I quite like both compositions but the perspective won me out, plus that one focuses more on the characters than the other one (as much as I love backgrounds, it really is supposed to be about Emmet and Ingo U_U)

Being places of duality and having a battle challenge in there, it really fit them!

Emmet drops the hottest single of all time 🔥🔥🔥

Not really much to say about this one since it was very much done on a whim, but

its not the first time I drew Emmet with his hat backwards, I did this little doodle around the same time I did the train graffiti piece, been wanting to do something with this silly idea, and when I heard that audio, I went :o

Following Some Rumors of a Time Machine

the finale! I decided to choose Area Zero because its a very cool place! I am inspired by cool places! and I decided to give it my all for this one!

The thumbnail I made was more for jotting down the idea, and the landscape was going to be more eyelevel? Later I decided to make it so you were looking down into the crater and you get to see the fog blocking the crystal caverns, to show that Emmet was going deeper into Area Zero and the Deepest part is his destination (the time machine, not the underdepths, I didn't know about that yet haha!) I was always going to make Emmet encounter a Slither Wing, with it being based off Volcarona, a gen 5 pokemon :]

Anyways, That's all I have to say! I hope you found it interesting! (and enjoyed my varying quality in sketches and thumbnails XD) Thanks for listening! see you in 2024! ✌

#Art Summary 2023 #Art Summary

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mapileonxputellas · 1 year

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Best Christmas Present (Alexia Putellas x Reader)

Loved this Christmas one! Please send in anymore Christmas ideas... Requests 1, 2 and 3. 3k words x

“Final question for Y/N before we move onto Alexia.”

The joys of being the vice-captain of Barcelona meant joining Alexia for the press conference before the final game of the year. It felt like the middle of the night as you pulled up at the training session, hours before the training session all to face the questions of the media.

Having Alexia with you made it bearable, the two of you having been in a relationship for over four years now. The 7am wake up didn’t feel too bad when you were greeted with the love of your life in your shared home with Nala asleep at your feet.

“Y/N, how would you assess the season so far and what plans have you got for the Christmas break?”

A seemingly meaningless question to probably everyone in the room but one that brought up a touchy subject for yourself.

“In terms of the season so far I am pleased with both my own performance and the team overall but we know we cannot rest on that going into the new year. We’re more determined than ever to keep that unbeaten record in the league and reach the Champions League final again. We miss Alexia and others on the pitch at times but we’re trying to find alternative ways to break teams down effectively.” You answered, feeling your heart almost beat out of your chest as you thought about the second part of your answer. “I’m going to take the Christmas break to rest up and recharge ready for the new year in Spain.”

Out of all the things you loved about being Australian, the distance between there and your now home in Spain was not one of them. Christmas had never been an issue before, with the long break in the league you usually had time to travel there and back but this year the league structure meant that wouldn’t be possible and your parents’ health problems meant they couldn’t make the reverse journey.

“So you’re not travelling to Australia?”

“Sadly not.”

A simple answer but saying it out loud every time made it more real for you. Feeling a little nudge of your feat you slightly turned your head to find Alexia almost assessing you, making sure you weren’t going to breakdown so you sent her a weak smile accompanied by your blurry eyes.

Her smile immediately dropped noticing your mood and slightly scooted her chair over so her hand could grasp your own and draw patterns on your hand to calm you down.

The rest of the press conference was a blur for you, just focusing on the hand connected to your own and vaguely listening to Alexia. All you could think about was the new-found reality that you would be celebrating Christmas alone this year. This was your favourite holiday and it wouldn’t be the same on your own with no-one to celebrate with. This time the final question was a blessing as you quickly thanked the media before shuffling out of your seat.

You could feel Alexia’s eyes on you as you walked out the door but you didn’t have any time to talk about what had happened as you were thrust into a full changing room ready for the training session.

“Here come the love birds.” Claudia shouted as you entered. Trying to distract yourself you went straight over to your cubby between Ana and Jana. “Can’t even keep your hands off each other for twenty minutes.”

“Leave them alone.” Ana defended you. “They’re just in love.”

“What are you talking about anyway?” You questioned, quickly trying to change into the training gear.

“Let’s just say you weren’t as subtle as you thought you were.” Jana teased as you sat down. The young girl had spent a lot of time with both you and Alexia and often referred to you as her team mum.

“What?”

“Alexia getting handsy.” Mapi interrupted her. “You should see twitter honestly it’s like you’ve got married never mind just held hands in a press conference.”

“I thought it was cute.” Ingrid added. “Don’t listen to them.”

“I always preferred your girlfriend Mapi.”

“Right back at ya.”

Just as you finished tying your boot laces a hand came and rested on your knee before your girlfriend came into your vision, kneeling down in front of you. Her glances around the room gave away that she was waiting for the room to clear before she spoke.

“Are you ok?” She whispered. “Why didn’t you tell me….”

“Can we do this later? Please.” You almost begged, not wanting to get upset and then have to go out into the cold.

“Promise you’ll talk to me later.”

“I promise.” You replied, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “Thank you for back there.”

“Anything for you.”

….

You avoided the conversation for as long as you possible could by busying yourself around other people. Offering to give Jana a lift home who lived round the corner from you both, taking the longest shower possible and busying yourself with making tea before you sat down together for dinner, ready to face the music.

The silence was overwhelming as you both sat down, twirling the pasta round your fork as you avoided eye contact. Slowly making your way through the meal.

“Why didn’t you just tell me?” Alexia broke the silence.

“It’s complicated Alexia.”

“What’s complicated for me is the fact that you didn’t want to tell me.”

“There’s nothing you can do though, your family is here and mine’s not.” You wiped away the sole tear that was slowly trickling down your face. “I thought they were going to come here but then with their latest problems the health insurance wouldn’t cover them. But it’s fine, I’ve got everything I need here and we can celebrate together the day after.”

This time though it was Alexia who was confused. “What?”

“It’s fine at least you’ll get two Christmases.”

“Babe take a step back, I’m not letting you spend Christmas day alone.”

“I mean what other choice do I have?”

“Spend it with us.” She reached over to grab your hand. “My mum always cooks enough for the whole village and she loves you.”

“I can’t.”

“Why not?”

“Because that’s your family Ale.”

Well and truly before this year you’d never even had the option of celebrating Christmas together with the distance between you all. “They’re your family too and before you ask whether they’d be OK with it, my mum will be just worried the whole day if she knows you’re spending the day alone.”

“I feel like I’d be intruding.”

“I promise you wouldn’t be, this past year you’ve been a rock to me and my family and we owe you this at least.”

“You don’t owe me anything Ale.”

“I do, you gave up so much of your time watching me playing football, all those nights you stayed with me in hospital and then you’ve been the brunt of all my mood swings.”

“I did it because I love you.”

“And I love you so let me do this for you now.” Ale slipped out of her seat before gently sitting on your lap. “You know one day we’ll have both our families together, little ones running around and we won’t be the guests anymore. Consider this the first step in that, I don’t want to spend Christmas apart from you any longer, I’ve done that for four years and that’s long enough.”

“You’re a good persuader Miss Putellas.” She was getting to you and the smirk on her face said she knew that as her fingers gently dragged back and forth on your exposed collar bone.

“Please, I won’t be able to celebrate if I know you’re here all alone.”

“I’m calling your mum tomorrow and double checking this is alright with her.”

“Is that a yes?”

Reaching up you gently grabbed her chin to draw your eyes together. “Yes Ale, I’d love to spend Christmas with you.” The only way to seal the deal was with a kiss which you almost immediately pulled away from as a thought came into your head. “I need a full list of who will be there so I can add them to the Christmas present list.”

“Babe I’ve already started just putting both our names on them.”

“Really?”

“Well the shit ones I just put your names on.”

“Very funny.”

Moments like these cemented how much you loved the woman on your lap, throughout all the moments her newfound fame had given her she was still your Ale. As your lips gently caressed each other’s you thought of the perfect way to thank her for all of this to truly show how much you loved her and thankfully you knew exactly how you could do that.

….

Christmas with the Putellas family was definitely an experience. You knew how much Eli loved being a host and that showed on Christmas day.

From the beginning you were made to feel just as much a part of the family as Alba and Alexia: from the stocking embroidered with your name on to the heap of presents for you. It almost made you emotional thinking about the family that you had gained from your love for the Spaniard.

The day however only grew from there with family member after family member being welcomed into the house. Even though you had met everyone before it was still quite overwhelming so you tried to help Eli as much as possible in the kitchen. Cooking was definitely your other passion away from football and it helped you to forget about all the craziness going in the other room.

“How is my favourite daughter finding today?” Eli asked as she wrapped an arm around your shoulder before dropping down into a whisper. “Have you got a plan yet?”

Before you could even answer though another voice piped in. “Wow mama you could at least pretend not to have favourites.”

You loved Alba like a sister and you knew she was only joking, further shown as she joined you in a group hug. “Alba is just jealous.”

“No me and Alexia always knew you was the favourite. Alexia sent me to get you by the way, we’re playing games with the children.”

“Tell her I’m helping mama.”

“No you go.” Eli almost pushed you out, giving you her best authoritative look. “You’ve helped me more than enough today.”

“I’ll be back.” You promised.

The living room was far from the quiet serenity of the kitchen, both the sofas were filled with extended family, children were scattered across the carpet playing all sorts of different games and you found your girlfriend on the armchair trying to work out the latest game they wanted to play. You couldn’t help but watch as she tried to answer the questions of her young cousins all whilst looking incredible in the black blazer set she’d settled on, a stark contrast to your red dress. Your thoughts were interrupted though as Alba bumped your shoulder knocking you out of the daydream.

“Having a bit of trouble there.” You teased taking a seat on the arm of the chair. “These are supposed to be for children you know.”

“Shut up.” With one arm still holding onto the instructions the other tugged your waist causing you to slide down the arm of the chair onto her lap. You couldn’t help but press a kiss to the top of her head as she still tried to wrap her mind around the game.

“How about I do the next game?” You announced getting the attention of all the kids. “Count to twenty and I’ll be back.”

Scrambling to go to your backs you left in Alexia’s old room you found the parcel in your overnight bag ready for this exact scenario. Coming empty handed was never an option for you.

“Here it is.” You announced getting everyone’s attention. “Who wants to play pass the parcel?”

Your suggestion was met with a round of cheers as everyone got into a circle to include all the adults on the sofas. Taking a seat on the floor you were ready to start when one of Alexia’s cousins, Ana, sat down on your lap. Your arms instantly wrapped around the young girl as you started the music, each time letting the girl pass the parcel on to Alexia.

“Why did you not sit with me?” Alexia asked Ana dangling her hand over the chair to tickle the girl, pouting to feign her hurt.

“Want Auntie Y/N.” Even just her calling you Auntie made your heart skip a beat, you couldn’t believe how lucky you were to now call these people your family.

“Yeah Auntie Ale.” You teased sticking your tongue out.

“She’s my favourite too.” Ale admitted to the little girl, faking a whisper. “Don’t tell her than though.”

“Secret.” The little girl whispered, thinking this was a real secret even though you could obviously hear both of them.

“Yeah keep it a secret.”

“What are you two talking about?” You asked gaining the attention of Ana who simply curled back into your lap.

“Nothing.” She answered. “Love you.”

“I love you too.”

Alexia couldn’t help but just look the at the two of you together. Your attention split between a conversation with her uncle and trying to soothe the girl in your lap.

“You’re so whipped.” Alba whispered teasingly into her sister’s ear. “Stop staring.”

“Shut up Alba.”

…..

Your moment didn’t come till after the meal had finished and everyone was still sat around talking. Alexia was curled up on the chair next to you, both of your hands intertwined on your lap as you mixed with everyone. But the box in your bag upstairs could no longer be ignored and now felt like the moment.

“I’m just nipping to the bathroom,” You whispered to Ale before slipping out the room.

Quickly refreshing yourself in the bathroom before retrieving the little box hidden in your overnight bag. You’ve played in front of nearly one hundred thousand people in your career but this is the most nervous you’ve felt before.

You couldn’t stop your hands from shaking as you slowly made your way into the dining room again. Stopping behind Ale’s chair your hands rested on her shoulders as you cleared your throat to gain the attention of the room, all eyes suddenly focused on you.

“Sorry for interrupting all your conversations but I just wanted to say something in front of you all. Firstly I want to thank you for today, you’ve all welcomed me into your family and took me in as one of your own. To Eli, thank you for being an amazing host and for the amazing food.”

“Which you helped with.” She pointed out. “We’ve all loved having you here, plus Ale would have spent the whole day being miserable without you.”

“Whining even more than usual.” Alba teased her sister.

“As you all know I’ve been with Ale for more than four years now and they’ve been the best of my life.” You started, Alexia turning to face you. “We’ve been through more struggles than anyone will know, with injuries and the pressures of being who we are but we’ve always had each other and I know I wouldn’t have come this far without you by my side.”

“What’s all this for?” Alexia asked.

You ignored her question to continue. “You’re my best friend. I love everything about you even when you keep me awake snoring at night or when you burn my toast in the morning. You’re always the first to offer to give me a massage after a match, you always remember my green tea in the morning but more than that you make me feel more loved than I’ve ever felt before.”

The realisation of what was slowly happening was dawning on Alexia as tears streamed down her face.

“I’d love nothing more than to have the rest of my life to continue to show you how much you mean to me and stand by your side to share every moment together.” You said, slowly getting down on one knee, opening the box to reveal the ring you’d chosen. “So Alexia Putellas Segura, will you do me the greatest honour and be my wife?”

“Yes, yes of course I will.” Immediately shooting out of her chair she wasted no time in gathering you in her arms, spinning you around in the air. “I love you so much.” She whispered, planting you back down on the floor to kiss you.

“I love you too. I hope you like the ring.”

“It’s perfect. Everything you choose is perfect.” Taking the simple but elegant diamond ring in your hand you slid it onto her finger like a glove.

It’s only then that you realise you’re not alone in the room, both of your eyes immediately turning to Eli and Alba. Tears uncontrollable streaming down their faces as they gathered you in a group hug.

“I’m so happy for you both.” Eli whispered, kissing both of your heads. “No-one deserves this more than you two.”

“You’re both made for each other.” Alba added, first hugging you as Eli took Alexia in her arms. “That ring as well, wow.”

“You should thank Eli for that as well.” You admitted as you swapped to get your hug from Eli. “I can’t take all the credit for that.”

“You knew?” Alexia turned to the both of you.

“Y/N came to me a few months ago and asked for my permission which I of course gave her. I didn’t know she as planning on doing it tonight though.”

“It just felt right.” You admitted. “All your family here and we both love Christmas. Of course I’d love to have met your father and ask him but I felt this was only right.”

That again set Alexia off as the tears started again. “I love you.”

“I love you too my fiancée.” Bringing her into your arms the cheers started as you sealed it with another kiss. “Forever.”

“Forever with you.”

#woso imagine #woso imagines #woso x reader #alexia putellas #alexia putellas x reader #alexia putellas imagine #barcelona femeni #espwnt #espwnt x reader

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zablife · 9 months

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My Sun, My Moon and All My Stars-Part 2

Luca Changretta x OC (Aurora Changretta)

Summary: Aurora and Tommy put their plan into motion. When things go wrong in Artillery Square, she’s the one who must deal with Luca.

Author’s Note: Rose Solomons is an OC belonging to @raincoffeeandfandoms.

Warnings: language, drinking, ethnic slurs, mention of death, fighting, injury, blood, mention of domestic abuse

☀️🌙✨MASTERLIST✨🌙☀️

Part 1

The last of the letters sat addressed and ready to mail home in the morning, It was important to Aurora that she tell the families about their brave sons and husbands who had given their lives for her family. She pledged continued income and protection on behalf of the Sabini family for their sacrifice, but the promise felt as weightless as the cheap hotel stationary she held in her hand. Rubbing an ink stain from her finger, she hadn’t noticed Luca enter, furrowing his brow at her.

“You’re still awake?” he asked, leaning against the doorframe.

“I couldn’t sleep until I finished my condolence letters,” she said, motioning toward the neat stack at the corner of the desk.

“Come to bed,” he said, extending a hand for her and she rose to meet him without resistance. “You’re a good woman, Aurora,” he commented, urging her to lean into him.

“Is that what we should tell their children?” she asked into the darkness of the hallway, limbs feeling heavy with exhaustion.

“The Shelbys will answer for this, hmm? They did this,” he stressed, rubbing his palm along her upper back. She winced slightly from her healing injuries, murmuring about the nightly regimen she needed to complete and he guided her into the bedroom.

Aurora sat at the edge of the bed, dark hair cascading over one shoulder as Luca’s long fingers massaged a soothing balm into her bruised shoulder. The moonlight reflected against her glossy locks, drawing Luca forward to kiss the top of her head. Breathing in the hint of spice in her perfume, he mused, “You remember the first Christmas we were married? All the promises we made?”

Aurora nodded as she glanced down at the bauble on her right hand, a gift from their first holiday together as a married couple. The large princess cut emerald nestled amongst smaller brilliant diamonds, one for every child they hoped to be blessed with in the future. “My sun, my moon and all my stars,” she whispered. It was true they’d made plans for a dynasty of their own in the early days, but this was no longer the dream as all her hopes had turned to fear, joy drowning in sorrow and every kiss from Luca sinking her deeper into death.

Luca rested his cheek against her momentarily as he continued, “This vendetta has made me realize how short life is. When we get back home a new life begins for us. Things are gonna be different.”

Aurora’s breath caught in her chest as she listened to his words, eyes slipping closed at the memory of Tommy Shelby’s icy stare as she agreed to the unthinkable.

“When all this is done, I think it’s time to talk about having a family,” he said, caressing her arm. “We have to find a way to move on after Angel and Papa,” he said, a sadness tinging his voice that made her whole body ache even more as guilt permeated her soul.

After a few moments of silence, she looked up to find her husband staring at her in the mirror and she could hardly meet his gaze.

“Did you hear what I said, Aurora?” he asked, pulling her into him.

“Mmm-hm,” she acknowledged numbly.

Satisfied he had her attention, Luca continued, brushing her hair with his fingers absently as he spoke. “You can stop working for your father and let go of all the worry. Have my children and let me spoil you for the rest of your life, vita mia,” he promised with a squeeze. “God, you’ll make the most beautiful mother,” he praised, kissing the side of her face. When she remained still, Luca pulled away to look at her, finding a tear in the corner of her eye. “You alright?” he asked tenderly.

Aurora’s hand came to rest at his cheek as her mind whirred, unable to answer him until she finally heard herself say, “Luca, I’m so tired. Can we go to sleep?”

“Of course,” he replied with another peck to her shoulder, moving backward on the bed and tossing the covers aside. She slipped beneath the duvet, silk night gown sliding against the smooth cotton and sighed at the relief of the cool material against her face. She watched intently as Luca turned out the light, hoping he hadn’t noticed the turmoil behind her eyes.

————————————-

Two days later, Aurora entered the dining room to find Luca with his head in his hands.

“What’s wrong?” she asked, taking a seat beside him at the table.

Luca tossed a telegram before her and she grasped it between her fingers, eyes flying across the page. She tried to hide the small intake of breath as she realized it came from Camden Town, realizing the plan was in motion.

“The jew says he can lead me to Shelby,” Luca said, leaning back in his chair as he drummed his fingers on the tabletop.

“That’s good, isn’t it?” Aurora asked encouragingly, reaching for his hand.

Luca pulled back with a shake of his head. “Something isn’t right. I can feel it,” he said stroking his cheek thoughtfully.

“Wh-why do you say that? I thought you had a productive meeting at the distillery. You promised him distribution for his rum in New York in exchange for Tommy Shelby’s whereabouts,” she said, reiterating the terms of the agreement.

Luca stood and crossed to the window looking down to the street. “I don’t trust him, baby,” he eventually replied.

“I admit he’s a bit eccentric, but Darby said we can trust him. Papa said,” Aurora stressed, attempting not to raise her voice and show her hand.

“It’s not just him. It’s that wife of his. She’s got opinions on everything, always in his ear,” he said with a disapproving sneer. Luca spun around to look at Aurora as he asked intently, “What was it she said to you that day when you were alone? You never told me.”

Aurora’s eyes dropped to the patterned tablecloth, tracing it slowly as she thought of a believable lie. The clock in the corner ticked away the seconds forcefully, urging her on until she landed on the telegram once more. Placing a manicured finger over a few words she pronounced, “Look, the Solomons mention Artillery Square.”

“And?” Luca asked with clenched jaw.

“Tommy Shelby hides his youngest brother there. Goes to visit him one day a week to give him his orders in person and check on him,” she said confidently.

Luca was listening intently now, studying his wife with suspicion. “And how do you know this, principessa?” he asked.

“You asked what Rose said. She told me they’ve had a girl from the bakery who was sweet on him. She tried to warn her off and couldn’t. She said she followed her there a few times,” Aurora continued as naturally as possible.

“And why wouldn’t you have told me this before?” Luca asked with raised eyebrow, pacing back to the breakfast table with a dangerous look in his eye.

Aurora went to him, stroking a hand down his shirt front to calm him. “I had to be sure,” she said, faltering slightly in her delivery before dipping her head under his chin. When Luca accepted her, lacing an arm around her waist, her body relaxed against his. However, she quickly noticed the tension did not leave his grip as he tightened his hold on her.

“Sure of what, amore?” he whispered in a low growl, fingers pressing against her flesh painfully. One hand slipped away to find her chin, pulling her eyes up to meet his in a challenging stare.

Aurora eyes darted momentarily as she forced the lump back down her throat with the note of panic desperate to escape. “I couldn’t risk her giving us false information. Putting you in danger,” she purred.

Luca’s head tilted slightly as his brow softened, “So how do you know she’s not lying?” he implored, wanting to believe.

At that moment, Enzo entered the room and Aurora turned to him with a desperate look in her eye. With her back to her husband she silently pleaded through her gaze as she spoke. “Enzo followed him there,” she said, heart thundering in her chest as she waited for her father’s man to give confirmation.

“Have you been watching Artillery Square?” Luca asked the young man before him.

Aurora gave an almost imperceptible nod of her head toward Enzo and his eyes went wide for a moment, glancing between husband and wife. He knew what needed to be done though fear coursed through his veins. “Yes, boss,” he quickly replied.

“And Tommy Shelby’s brother lives there? You’re certain of it?” he asked.

“Yes, I’m sure,” Enzo confirmed, feeling a trickle of sweat run down his back.

Luca sighed heavily, running his tongue along the inside of his cheek as he thought.

“You see, Luca, we can trust the intelligence,” Aurora spoke up. Seeing his resolve was weakening at the thought of a victory over the Shelbys, Aurora delivered one last impassioned speech. “Let’s end this so we can go home. You take him today, Luca. You must,” she urged her husband, stroking his cheek gently.

She could see from the glint in his eye that he was ready, having waited too long for vengeance for his family. “Today,” he repeated with a firm nod, assured in his decision.

———————————————

Tommy waited patiently from a second story balcony late into the afternoon with a machine gun covered by a thick swath of muslin. Residents had been evacuated from the buildings in Artillery Square, though he suspected some still remained as noises could be heard occasionally with the rustle of the breeze. If it were rats or curious tenants, he couldn’t quite be sure. It was of no concern now though, the only thought on his mind was waiting for Luca and his men.

Tommy closed his eyes, taking in one last deep breath and exhaling into the heavens. This would be the end to it all, the black hand and the blood in the kitchen had been nothing compared to this moment when he would finally be victorious. And if he wasn't, that would be the end of everything extra and he could be at peace with Grace. “In the bleak midwinter…” he began before the roar of a car engine could be heard in the distance.

Readying himself for battle, Tommy withdrew the cloth from his weapon and hid beyond the shadows, listening to the distant footsteps of at least four men, recalling all the places he’d stored guns and ammunition around the compound. He steadied his breathing as he’d done years ago in the war, taking in the stream of oxygen as he might the opium or whisky afterward to stop the shakes. He took one last look at his pocket watch, the soldier's minute had begun.

—————————————-

Aurora watched the last of the vehicles Darby provided pull away from the curb and she felt a rush of adrenaline course through her whole body. She packed quickly knowing time was not a luxury today and gathered the tickets Rose had left for her under an assumed name. Everything was falling into place almost too well when she felt a hand on her shoulder as she waited for a taxi.

She startled at the touch, dropping her case to the pavement as she glanced over her shoulder nervously. This was the moment she was found out. She was certain of it and she nearly fainted as she glimpsed the fedora in her peripheral vision.

In a blessed moment of relief, the voice that issued forth was not that of her husband, but a warm, soothing tone of her bodyguard. Shoulders slumping forward in instant relief she managed, “Enzo! It’s only you.”

“Yes, Mr. Changretta said I should stay behind and watch over you,” he explained, a note of apology in his voice.

“I won't be needing you today. Go back to the hotel,” Aurora instructed.

Enzo looked confused as Aurora straightened her dress and picked her case up from where it had fallen at her feet. He dipped quickly to pick it up for her, but she grabbed the handle first with a shake of her head. Her hazel eyes turned dark with warning, the same look she’d given him that morning in the dining room and he understood she was fleeing.

“I’m sorry, I can’t stay,” she said as a taxi pulled up to the curb.

“No, it’s I who must apologize, Mrs. Changretta,” he replied as he opened the door for her. "Potrai mai perdonarmi?"

She paused as her hand fell upon the door. “Why do you say that?” she asked, eyes snapping up to meet his.

Enzo looked away as he fixed his eyes on something across the road answering honestly, “I never protected you from him. It was my one job and I failed you,” he confessed.

Aurora’s swallowed harshly as she was confronted by the truth no one had dared speak into existence in her presence. She placed a gloved hand over his and gave a gentle squeeze as she tried to fortify him with a look of reassurance. “You've done enough. Be satisfied with that and don't worry. I'm my father's daughter. No one strikes a Sabini without bearing a scar of their own.” Then she ducked inside the cab without looking back.

——————————-

“Dear Lord, vengeance is yours. My father, look upon me. Vengeance is yours too.” Luca whispered before making the sign of the cross and kissing the St. Christopher medal that hung from his neck. As Matteo drove a bread truck deep into Shelby territory, he searched for signs of life in the smoggy streets. However, the neighborhood appeared cold and desolate, gray clouds hanging like a burial shroud over the decaying buildings.

Luca leaned forward to give his final instructions to his men. “He may try to surrender, but remember, I’ll fire the final shot,” he warned them, flexing his gloved hands until the leather cracked breaking the tension in the air. They nodded in silent understanding, exchanging glances as they all recognized the blood lust in Luca’s eyes. He wouldn’t be contained a moment longer.

As soon as the car stopped, Luca jumped from the back, surveying the empty car left by the alley. By all accounts this was Shelby’s car and he smirked with pleasure knowing his enemy was nearby.

In the distance Tommy watched through the iron bars of the balcony railing as Luca marched through the courtyard, a lion prowling unfamiliar territory with his nose high in the air. He had an unsettling sense of superiority Tommy found nauseating, a reminder of the cavalry who rode past him without a single glance. That was the secret to his plan, however. Hiding in plain sight where Luca would never think to look. Taking one last view through the sights, Tommy’s finger curled over the trigger in anticipation of just the right moment.

No sooner had Luca begun thinking of his plans to ambush Tommy, gunfire reigned down from above. The sharp echoes around him bit at his nerves and the wind opened his coat, exposing him to the elements in a sudden reversal of fortune he hadn’t been expecting. His men poured from the back doors of the bread truck, machine guns in hand, but two were struck down instantly by his side, blood pooling at his feet. “Fuck!” he shouted, returning fire to the balcony above, grimacing as he held his gun against his shoulder tightly and fired several rounds in quick succession.

As the specter of a man in a flat cap disappeared beyond undulating waves of hanging bed sheets, Luca motioned the others forward. “Come on!” he said with a wave of his arm, unwilling to give up the chance now that it had begun. His earlier certainty had been robbed, however, and he now stood motionless despite his command, flattening himself against a wall as he collected his thoughts. His face twisted with rage as he hissed, “I was lied to.”

———————————

Aurora fidgeted with the buttons on her gloves anxiously, willing the couple in front of her to move more quickly. She'd already waited at the docks for hours for her boat and the churning in her stomach was worsening with every passing second. Her nerves were not helped by the elderly pair before her having a lengthy discussion about securing their dog on board, along with endless questions about their voyage. She attempted to take long, slow breaths through her nose, but nothing seemed to calm her.

Finally it seemed she would be next and she readied her papers in hand with a warm smile. As she stretched her hand out to offer them, a clerk approached her. “Ma’am, a word please,” he said in a stern voice.

With a dry throat, Aurora attempted to swallow and hesitantly turned to face him. “Yes, can I help you?” She was certain it was a mistake. Women traveling alone were often questioned and she was confident she could talk her way out of it.

“I need you to follow me, please,” he said with a wave of his hand. "There's been a problem with your paperwork, ma'am."

"Surely you'll find everything in order if you take a look," she demurred, offering her papers. They shook in her hand as she pleaded, "Please, I’ll miss the boat and my family is waiting in America."

“Now, ma’am, or I'll be forced to call a policeman,” he commanded.

Seeing no other option, Aurora complied, gathering the small case at her side. The row of waiting travelers parted for her, pointing and staring at the elegant woman being led away. Although she kept her head held high, her legs nearly collapsed when she made it to the end of the dock to see Luca towering above her. He smiled at her with a predatory glimmer in his dark brown eyes. “Amore, I was so worried when you weren’t at the hotel,” he greeted her with open arms, pulling her into him like a long lost lover.

Aurora’s heart raced, beating wildly against her chest. She knew each and every one of his moods. This was his best impression of a loving husband, an act he would discard later in favor of the cruelest forms of punishment. The soft, even tone of his voice terrified her more than the beatings that followed.

She tried not to react as he pushed the scarf from her head and stroked her hair, fingers tracing along the column of her neck. A prickle of goosebumps developed beneath the wake of his touch as he whispered in her ear, “We could have had everything.” His nose nudged the shell of her ear tenderly as he did when they made love, but his next words came out even more breathlessly as he struggled to temper his emotions. “Mi hai spezzato il cuore…now I’m gonna break you, sweetheart.” Then he placed a rough kiss to her temple, hand clutching at the back of her neck possessively as though he might crush her skull and she whimpered involuntarily.

As he attempted to drag her from view of the remaining passengers waiting to board, Aurora began to feel nauseous. If she went with him, she wouldn’t return home. He had warned her once. Spotting the waiting car at the curb, she began to kick against his hold.

She wrenched herself from him in a moment of panic, his hand clutching at her necklace. It stopped her for a brief moment, a small choking sound emitting from her throat as it held her to him. Then the clasp gave way and she stumbled, watching a shimmering row of pearls fall to the walkway. Her hand flew to her throat as she saw Luca’s eyes widen in shock at the shower of jewels bounce along the ground at their feet.

Seeing her moment to flee, Aurora ran in the opposite direction as quickly as her legs would carry her. The shouted curses began as the sound of Aurora’s heels beat against the pavement, sounding a war drum in Luca’s ears as the blood pumped through his veins provoking him to chase after her.

She cut a path back through the crowd, weaving between bodies to disguise herself. The murmurs from the crowd intensified as she ducked low to avoid the men in dark coats and her position was given away when a woman screamed out in surprise. “Over there!” Luca called to Matteo who rushed to find her, pushing a man out of his way as he reached for the handle of his pistol.

In an instant Aurora’s brown curls had disppeared once more and the men stopped to watch and listen. They hadn’t seen her remove her shoes and scamper down a ramp, concealing herself beneath a set of stairs. Although soon one of the men discovered the passageway and motioned for Luca. “Here, boss!” he called out.

The men stalked through the shadowed area slowly, weapons drawn now that they were out of sight of any bystanders. Aurora closed her eyes tightly as she heard the sound of a gun cock, chest heaving and silently praying they wouldn’t discover her position. When she heard their footsteps move on, she took one last gulp of air and ran toward freedom, but the sound of a single shot echoing along the corridor immobilized her with a shock of lightning through her entire body. She dropped to the ground as the sound of police whistles rang out and her vision blurred.

———————————-

**The Changretta Calls-3 happens here **

Margate, One week later…

As the heavy front door swung open, Tommy’s voice rumbled lowly, “Is she still alive?” Expression unreadable below his flat cap, only his tightly clasped hands and rigid posture gave away his anxiety.

“And good morning to you, Tom,” Alfie said, stepping aside to allow his business associate inside. “Would like some tea, I think Edna’s got some brewing.” Observing Tommy’s pacing, he stroked his beard, adding, “bit of something stronger?”

Removing his cap swiftly, Tommy’s bloodshot eyes came into view and he stepped closer to Alfie as he hissed, “I need answers, Alfie. Right fucking now.”

“Yeah, suppose you do, mate. Come on, then,” he said, shuffling toward the back of the house to find Rose.

As they came into view of the sitting room, Rose’s head shot up. “Mr. Shelby, there are a few things we need to discuss,” she said with arms crossed against her chest. “First, I’d like to know why you left Mrs. Changretta to die when we agreed it was her husband you wanted.”

“Now wait a minute,” Tommy interjected. “I’ve already told your husband, I had nothing to do with that.”

“Of course you’d deny it,” she huffed. “She delivered him to you on a silver platter and it still wasn’t enough for your ego,” she let out a bitter laugh as she marched toward him. Pointing a finger at Tommy accusingly she continued, “If that bullet had been three inches to the left, she’d be dead. She risked her life to save yours, you arrogant prick!” Her words were pitched with emotion, a bit high for her usual register as the emotional distress from watching Aurora suffer spilled forth all at once.

“It was only Luca and his men in Artillery Square,” Tommy said with conviction.

“Then how did she end up in hospital?” Rose asked.

As the waves crashed outside the open balcony door, Aurora’s words echoed in Tommy’s ear, “I just want out.” She’d been desperate that afternoon in the basement room, clawing her way out of the pit Luca had dug for them. Tommy recognized it in her, the will to live despite being buried. Then all the pieces clicked into place. His throat felt dry and the room far too warm suddenly. Alfie had been right about one thing, the unexpected guilt that arose. He hadn’t meant for any of this to happen when he arranged the meeting in Artillery Square. It was his battle to fight, not Aurora Changretta’s.

The harsh cry of a lone seagull dipping low in the sky brought Tommy back to himself as he choked out, “I proposed an alliance in good faith and I haven’t broken it. The only other person in this country who wants her dead is her own husband. Have you asked her about him?”

The tightness in his jaw and the strained look in his eye told Rose Tommy was concerned for Aurora. Perhaps he even cared what happened to her after this, but he was definitely telling the truth about the events of the past days. Even if she wanted to hold a grudge, she had no choice but to work with him because a war was still raging outside her doorstep.

“She lost a great deal of blood and fell unconsciousness before I could speak with her further,” Rose admitted. “I just know she needed protection and asked to come here.”

“Well let’s settle this, shall we? I’d like to know where the fuck Luca is for a start, wouldn’t you?” Tommy asked with raised eyebrows.

“I told you, she needs rest,” Rose cautioned, still feeling protective over her guest.

“We don’t have time, Rose,” Tommy countered. Rose opened her mouth to argue, fury ready to fly from her until he added more gently, “I can’t protect her or any of us if I don’t have information.”

She couldn’t deny his logic and closed her mouth. Pursing her lips for a moment before beginning, “I’ll check on her, but I don’t want that woman upset. If you speak, you’ll watch your bloody tone with her. She’s been through enough, do you understand?” Rose gave him a stern look and without waiting for a reply, she whisked away to Aurora’s room to see if she might be able to speak.

Alfie let out a low whistle. “Ready for that drink now?” he asked.

“Yeah,” Tommy agreed with a quick nod, watching Alfie push himself up from his chair with a low grunt.

Alfie lumbered to the bar cart in the corner, pouring two fingers of Irish whisky and passed it to his friend with a grumble. As he stood considering the bright morning sun over the water, he reached for the chain around his neck and produced a pair of half moon shaped glasses. Their size was unremarkable in comparison to their owner who held them in his enormous hand with great awe and wonder.

“The man who made this pair of spectacles for me is a fucking magician, Tommy. You wouldn’t believe it,” he said with a satisfied nod. “A fucking magician!” his voice boomed. “Ain’t they lovely though?” he asked, pulling the chain out from his body and offering them toward Tommy for inspection.

Tommy took a swig of his drink, tilting his chin to the ceiling as he allowed the burn of the alcohol to reach his brain. It was too early for Alfie’s theatrics, especially with the weight on his mind. He licked his lips and nodded thoughtfully. “They’re quite nice, Alfie.”

“They tell me things as well. All that’s about to happen," he gestured with an open palm. "I’ve seen into the future with these,” he said in a hushed voice full of reverence.

“Is that right? Perhaps I need a pair then,” Tommy dead panned, reaching into his coat pocket for a badly needed cigarette.

“Ah, but you already know, dontcha?” Alfie hummed, pacing toward the balcony once more. “It was you who said they was coming for us all one day. That was you, weren’t it?” he asked, glancing over his shoulder as Tommy lit his smoke, looking more interested than before.

Nodding to himself, Alfie clutched the spectacles in his large fingers and turned his back to Tommy saying, “Hmm, didn’t need a pair of these after all, did ya?” Tugging at the hem of his shirt to polish a spot, he held them to the light for inspection as he continued, “The way I see it, the wops know she’s a traitor.” Alfie stopped, one ringed hand resting over his mouth, stroking his beard momentarily, before he dared speak the rest. “Worse they’ll know by now my Rosie’s one cause they’ve been seen together.”

“What would you have me do, Alfie?” Tommy asked, taking a long drag as he awaited an answer.

“I can’t keep the Changretta woman here another day, mate,” Alfie proclaimed, a veiled request rolled into his statement.

“Rose won’t agree to it,” Tommy warned.

“She might not like it, but she knows what’s best for everyone, don’t she?” Alfie countered.

“Aurora can’t possibly travel,” Tommy argued, pointing his cigarette at Alfie for emphasis.

“She got here,” Alfie reasoned, tucking the glasses back into his shirt front. "She can make it to yours," he said decisively.

Tommy bit the inside of his cheek before slamming his glass on the nearest table, accepting his inevitable defeat in this argument. “I’ll need blankets and a medical kit, plus two cars to accompany us on the drive.”

Alfie nodded thoughtfully to accept the proposal, but his pacing continued as though some other issue still plagued his mind. “You do realize my wife will have your balls if you don’t do right by this woman,” Alfie proclaimed, chewing his bottom lip with worry.

Tommy looked down the hall where Rose had disappeared as he nodded, “Yes, I do.”

—————————————

Rose helped Tommy bundle Aurora into warm blankets, carrying her down to the car as gingerly as possible. Aurora was still quite delirious from the pain medicine, making a proper goodbye difficult, but she managed to thank Rose, giving her hand a weak squeeze. Rose wiped a tear away as she placed a basket on the bench seat by Tommy. “Be sure she eats the bread I sent,” she instructed. It was the only bit of care she could give now that they would be separated.

“And Tommy…this time you must succeed. This man has to be killed,” Rose implored with fierce determination.

“There's no other option,” Tommy replied before driving off.

It was close to midnight before they reached Arrow House, rows of men welcoming them back to what had become a heavily guarded fortress. Frances swept from the house the moment the car arrived with questions about room preparations which Tommy answered in short, half sentences, too tired to address properly. He was thinking of the calls still to be made that evening to a doctor, his brothers and Pol. There would be a lot of explaining to do and he could only hope they would trust him.

As he carried Aurora to her room, the full moon broke through the parting clouds and Tommy looked down at her sleeping form, wondering when he’d gone soft. Hadn’t she been the same woman who tried to have him killed mere weeks ago? Now she rested against his chest, the weight of her in his arms a promise to be fulfilled. He couldn't say if it was Rose's influence or the bandages that lay in the same place against her chest as the red stain upon Grace's dress the night of her murder, but something was driving him to protect her.

————————-

The next day…

“Thanks be to Mary and Joseph," Johnny Dogs exhaled at the sight of Tommy entering the foyer of Arrow House. With Arthur in tow, they followed at Tommy's heels until they'd reached the office. With a heavy sigh, Johnny closed the office door behind him. “You didn't say she was gonna wake up, Tom! We had to barricade the fucking door,” he huffed, shoving his hands into his pockets angrily.

“What’s happened?” Tommy asked, quickly removing his jacket and placing it on the closest chair.

“I don’t know. She’s up there smashing up the room, speaking in bloody tongues,” Arthur said in disgust, pouring himself a whisky as he shook his head, ears still ringing.

“It’s Italian, Arthur,” Tommy retorted. “And I didn’t tell you to fucking lock her in. She’s not a prisoner, she’s a guest in my home. This is a delicate business which must be conducted accordingly, you understand?” he scolded.

“Yeah, well you’d think she’d act a little more grateful for what you did for her, eh?” he said, tossing back his drink as another loud crash came from the upstairs bedroom. “See what I mean?” he gestured above his head. “Fucking madwoman!”

“Alright, you get Polly for the family meeting later and I’ll deal with this,” Tommy replied with a sigh. Rubbing a hand over his face, he climbed the grand staircase. Despite the lack of sleep and the obvious displeasure of his guest, it was time to discuss strategy.

Potrai mai perdonarmi?=Can you ever forgive me?

Mi hai spezzato il cuore=You broke my heart

---------------

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#Peaky Blinders fanfic #Peaky Blinders imagine #Luca Changretta fanfic #Luca Changretta imagine #Luca Changretta x OC #Tommy Shelby fanfic #Tommy Shelby imagine #Tommy Shelby x OC

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deepperplexity · 5 months

Text

Prompt 4. Sharing [C1]

Pairing: Turpin x Fem!Wife!Reader

POV: Second, Reader

Setting: Turpin's House

A/N: Time for my fav Rickman character to take the spotlight - I realise it might be a little frustrating to not have each long fic as a whole but I'm working with set prompts (like everyone else 😅) so we will be jumping a bit between the stories but I hope - since it's such a short time between parts - that you'll manage, darlings 🙈❤ Anyway, we are gonna have another slightly darker story going but I do promise we will have a HEA even if it'll be a bit of a roller coaster getting there. I'm such a sucker for Angst and Hurt in my fics that I just can't resist - especially when Turpin is so perfect for this 🙈🤭❤ I don't know how long this one will be though, might be 2 parts, might be 5, we'll have to see 😂 Anyway, I hope December is starting well for you and let's get to the story! 😍👏

IMPORTANT: My plans for this story go in the darker shades! I cannot make any promises as I write as I go for this event but I feel like Turpin's story needs some darkness, amidst the fluff and joy of Christmas I want to incorporate some harsher, darker themes as well - he's a dark and complex character after all so I'm just giving a possible heads up here at the very beginning. No promises, but many possibilities 🙈

Tags/TW’s: Emotional Hurt/Harm, Fear, Physical Grabbing/Hurt, Emotional Hurt/No Comfort (yet), Harsh Dialogue, Hating Christmas vs Loving Christmas, Pettiness, Longing, Fear Of Abandonment, Lacking Communication (not miscommunication)

Abbr.: Y/N - Your Name

Word Count: 1.6k+

LINKTREE // AO3 // MASTERLIST

You were tensing all over. Every muscle was as stiff as the logs in the hearth, crackling within the flames yet their warmth didn’t quite reach you. He glared at you. His cold grey eyes lacked the usual warmth he held for you. To be quite blunt, you hadn’t thought he’d be so opposed to the whole idea — but, there you were, in the middle of an argument you hadn’t imagined would ever occur.

You looked down, avoiding his harsh gaze. “I thought you’d be pleased,” you said quietly. “Pleased?” “Yes, Richard. I thought—” “You thought wrong. Christmas is a foolish holiday, worth nothing to me. The opposite, in fact.” You bit your lip, the coldness of his words too hurtful when you adored the holiday with all your heart and he'd never spoken in such a manner to you previously.

You glanced toward the tree you had only half decorated when he came home. Everything else in the house was done, the garlands and curtains, the mistletoe in the hallway arch and the new green candle sticks, the little Santa village atop the mantel you had sprinkled with flour to replicate snow, and the little decorations dotted on most flat surfaces — angels and reindeer, miniature trees and Christmas flowers. Some things you’d bought at the market but quite a bit of it you’d found in the attic — why did he have all those beautiful decorations if he wasn’t fond of the holiday?

“I’m sorry, Richard…” you whispered and he sighed deeply, it made you shiver unpleasantly. “It’s-, it’s my favourite holiday.” “You are my wife now, living under my roof, and there will be no holiday cheer or infernal carols. Take it all down,” he snarled coldly before leaving the room with rapid steps, his boot-clad feet stomping harshly. But it’s Christmas… You thought while hugging yourself, staving off the hurt of him speaking so harshly to you. Dismissing you, your feelings, all of it with not so much as a chance for you to ask why. “I won’t let you take away Christmas,” you whispered to the empty room.

***

You woke up in the guest room, having neglected to sleep in your bed — next to your husband. You hadn’t done what he asked yesterday, all the decorations remained where you had put them, and as you made your way down to the drawing room you were met by the half-done Christmas tree. He’s not taking Christmas from me. I won’t allow it. Never had you gone against his wishes before, not since you married the man during the early summer of that very year. He had truly not asked anything extraordinary of you, though. Not many wishes to go against, truth be told.

You finished decorating the tree, placing all the gifts you had hidden away in the attic previously under its branches weighed down by far too many decorations. Had he not been so cold toward you, so disrespectful of your love of Christmas, you wouldn’t have gone all out. Now, well, now you did. The tree was nearly tacky in its sparkling, glittery, golden galore.

“There, last one,” you said and stood back to look at your work. “He can be a grump everywhere else, but I’m celebrating Christmas. No matter if he likes it or not.” “You ought not do such a thing, me lady,” came the voice of the maid. It startled you. “It’s Christmas, Miss Lowel. I’m going to celebrate it.” “Yes, me lady, but do not say I didn’t warn you.” “Warning heard, and ignored.” “You are most brave, me lady.” “What’s he going to do? Throw his wife out on the street?” you laughed at your own words, he was some sort of a gentleman after all. Miss Lowel, however, only lowered her eyes and left the room. Would he?

***

Richard never came home that evening. You sat in the drawing room, surrounded by the cosy decorations while reading a book in the warmth of the fireplace, when the clock struck ten. “Where is he?” you murmured and snapped your book shut. “Is he working late again?” You sighed and got up, heading toward the bathroom to clean up before it was time to sleep.

As you brushed your hair you wondered if you should sleep in your shared bedroom or take the guest room again. You decided on the latter, not wanting to share a bed with someone angry — your grandmother always said it was bad to share a bed with anger. She meant one should always talk and solve things before going to bed, but, same difference. You didn’t quite want to admit to the strange sensation of worry and longing that had begun to unfurl within you, doubts about whether you’d made the right choice slithered in as the night enveloped the world. You fell asleep nonetheless, half shivering under the heavy cover lacking your husband’s warmth.

“You disobey me,” Richard snarled and you jolted awake. Sitting upright with the cover pooling around your waist, your nightshirt did little to ward off the sudden chill of the cold room. “Richard?” you asked, half disoriented by the sudden awakening. He glared at you from beside the bed, with barely any light in the room his eyes looked like pits. “You disobey me, in my own house ,” he snarled and grabbed your upper arm, jerking you close with a too-firm grip.

Your heart jumped into a gallop within your chest, your body stiffening while your hand reached out to try and remove his fingers squeezing your biceps too harshly. “I told you to take it down ,” he seethed. “Richard, stop, you’re hurting me,” you whimpered while pushing at his hand. He bent forward, your noses nearly touching, and your breath seemed lodged in your throat. His harsh features appeared set in stone, his mouth barely a line with his lips so tightly sealed and his jaw clenched. He had never looked at you like that, pure anger and something far more dreadful creeping underneath it — something that pulled at your heart fiercely.

“Take, it, down,” he said, nearly punching out each word. “N-no,” you whimpered, cinching your eyes shut. “I will not, it’s Christmas.” “It is my house,” he snarled and jerked at your arm, drawing a winching sound out of you. “It-, it’s mine too,” you whispered while tears began to roll down your cheeks. Fear, hurt and pain spurring the reaction you tried to quench. “You have nothing of yours,” he declared with frost in his thunderous roll of a voice. “ Nothing is yours.” “We share this marriage,” you said quietly, barely able to get the words out. “We share our life, and our home,” you continued and dared look up at him as he stood bent over you, each part of him seemingly held taunt. “Sharing,” he seethed, “is not what we do, wife . I own everything, including you.”

His hand released you with another jerk, forcing you to fall backwards while he straightened to his full, imposing height. Your heart ached and hammered, your cheeks wet with tears while your body quivered, your hands trembling. The way he spoke had fear streaking through your veins, your exchange with Miss Lowel still fresh in your mind — would he throw you out on the street over Christmas decorations? The hurt pushed hot anger through you, the fear like oil atop a fire.

“You do not own me,” you said, fisting your hand while glaring up at him. “I do not own you either. Marriage isn’t ownership, it’s sharing.” He smirked at you, but there was something devilish about it. Something dangerous. “Sharing?” he said. “In the same manner you thought to take all the freedom to remind me of the most horrendous of holidays? Sharing, as in taking the liberty to completely alter my one sanctuary without so much as a word with me beforehand? Sharing seems to be all, about, you,” he seethed while his hands fisted and his shoulders stiffened.

As he turned harder, colder, your heart ached and your shoulders slumped. Your bottom lip trembled, your tears flowed with more intensity as his words sank in, stabbing at you from all directions with the declaration of how selfish you had been. You had assumed he’d be happy, had assumed you could celebrate in a manner you saw fit, you even assumed he loved the holiday like all else did. It was Christmas, who didn’t love the most jolly of holidays?

Have I-, have I hurt him? The thought made your chest ache, for as you looked closer now that your eyes were more adjusted to the little light coming from the hallway you saw less of the anger he radiated and more of the hurt he was endeavouring to hide underneath it. You had, indeed, caused him emotional harm. It was written in his eyes as the dark pits turned to grey clouds. I hurt him…

“Richard, I’m—” “I shall return after Christmas.” “What?” “You shall have all your holiday cheer, wife , but none of me,” he snarled but the anger now sounded far more like pain. “Merry Christmas,” he continued with a seething sneer that just barely allowed the hurt to be heard, and then he stormed out of the room while you tried to grasp the fact he was leaving you until Christmas would be over, and it was only the fourth of December.

“Richard! Wait!” you called out, stumbling out of bed, your foot snagging on the cover, sending you plummeting into the lush carpet below with a thud and a hiss as your forehead slammed into the hard wood below while his footsteps receded down the stairs beyond the hallway. “Richard,” you said while scrambling to get up, “wait!”

…To Be Continued…

LINKTREE // AO3 // MASTERLIST

A/N: Uffh, such a cliffhanger there 👀 I'm trying to preserve my sanity so I'm not endeavouring to write 5k+ fics or the like each day - I hope you understand 🙈❤

I do think I'll be doing some short one-part fics too during this Rickmas but I'm taking it day by day so we'll see what happens - tomorrow I'll be continuing our Brandon story though! The prompt is perfect for it! 😍👏 Also, want to say an extra thank you to all who's shown they're here, reading my writing - it means so much and I'm really grateful ❤

Q: Do you tend to read more Christmas/winter stories during the holidays? (fanfiction or original works) A: I have never really followed the seasons in my reading beyond Rickmas - I'm a complete mood reader so it really doesn't matter what's going on around me, what I'm in the mood to read I'll read 😂

TAGLIST: @lizlil @snapefiction @darkthought15 @monstreviolet @flowerdementia @marvelschriss @once-upon-an-imagine @ravennight41 @caseydoodles98 @slytherinprincess03 @theconsultingdetectiveswife @grimmyhild @monster-energies @myobscureimaginarium @snowblossomreads @eternal-silvertongued-prince @cherryglossie @setsuna-meiou31 @helena211 @a-queen-and-her-throne @justsaturn0 @turvi @imwithyoutiltheendofthelinebucky @sunnylikesfrogs @mamawolfsmith16 @dianilaws @sassanoe @snapesrn @bernadette-peters12 @sammy-13 @smartowl999 @castleofthorns @serenanight87

@elizabeth-baelish @severuslovebot @leah1243 @thethotthatbreathes @rickmandowneyjr @yellowbadgermole @snapesangel @commodoreseverus @reinekefoxart @lght-n-drk @cathym1102 @mamawolfsmith87 @snowblossomreads @ladykardasi @a-queen-and-her-throne @eternal-silvertongued-prince @lyrixsnape @imwithyoutiltheendofthelinebucky @daddythanatos

Want to be tagged? 💚 You can tag yourself HERE! Or tell me and I’ll gladly tag you! 😍

[Dec:2023]

#rickmas2023 #turpin x reader #judge turpin #judge turpin fanfiction #christmas fic #rickmas #alan rickman #rickmaniac

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dramioneasks · 4 months

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HP FESTS: HP Festival of Stars (Part 2)

HP Festival of Stars 2023:

Can I Be Yours? by Wanderingfair - E, 2 chapters - “Stop stalling.” She laughed. “Right.” he confirmed, “I’m off to have a dastardly time bashing around Londo- oh, wait, no, I’m off to go meet the gold-digger Mum set me up with,” he snapped. “I get those two confused all the time.” “Go,” she urged, tucking her mouth into the sleeve of her jumper to hide her smile. “I’ll be up reading when you get home.” “You’ll be asleep on the library sofa and we both know it.” He winked, before closing the door. OR Hermione is forced to watch her best friend Draco Malfoy go on dates and finally confront the fact that she doesn't just love him, she is in love with him.

Draco Malfoy's Five Step Plan to Being Forgettable by OneEqualTemper - E, one-shot - Five times Draco said, “New year, new me!” and one time Hermione said, “But I like the old you.”

happy xmas (war is over) by riddikulus_puff - M, one-shot - December, 1998. Thousands are devastated and still mourning the losses from the Second Wizarding War, now came along the celebrations regarding the Muggle tradition that had moved through into the Wizarding World. Many were holding on to others for support, yet Hermione Granger felt horribly alone. Wasn’t Christmas supposed to be a happy time surrounded by family and friends? A one-shot for the 2023 HP Festival of Stars Fic Fest Inspired by the song ‘Happy Xmas (War is Over)’ by John Lennon

Crystals in the Snow by JessicaLovejoyAO3 - T, one-shot - no summary

Open Last by nissasxnotes - T, one-shot - no summary

In A Sky Full of Stars (I Think I Saw You) by InAStarlessSky - G, one-shot - “There’s a solution for that.” As if to prove the truth of his statement, he divests himself of the heavy wool coat he’d been wearing up to that point and drapes it over one arm. He then extends his hand to her and says, “Come here, I want to show you something.” She hesitates a moment, as though expecting deceit. He only smirks and gives a small shake of head. “I won’t bite, love. Come.” She approaches, still shivering despite herself and stops only when she reaches his side. “Serpents do have fangs, Draco.” “And lions have claws. What of it?” Or the one where Hermione steals an invisibility cloak and Draco has a surprise to show her.

Christmas in September by MsPolaPotter - T, one-shot - One heirloom brings Hermione to the love that she had deserved all along.

The Holidate by likelyunfinished - M, one-shot - “I don’t want to be your bloody holidate ever again. I want to be yours instead.” “Mine,” she smiled. “Yours,” he kissed her then, and it was the first of many Christmas kisses to come. In which Hermione Granger needs a fake-date to her Christmas party only to be reminded that old feelings never fade.

Everything Gold Can Stay by charingfae - T, one-shot - Draco Malfoy would give all the money in his vault for a chance to woo Hermione Granger. And he very nearly does. Year after year, he gifts her the most perfect, thoughtful, elaborate Christmas presents. So why in Merlin's name does she keep getting mad? One of these years, he's bound to get it right. Isn't he? Draco paused and drank in her radiant expression, her wisdom, her never-ending quest to make everyone in her sphere of influence better—all the individual components that added up to the mathematically impossible sum that was Hermione Granger. “I don’t agree with that. I’d argue that the things we love never stop being special. Not for a moment, Granger.”

Naughty or nice, Granger? by Dramioneinkdrinker - E, one-shot - Hermione sat down next to Theo. “What’s the game?” The three of them froze, staring at her like she was a boggart. Hermione cleared her throat, nodding to the game of cards splayed in front of Malfoy. Blaise was the first to recover. “Eh, we’re doing a holiday variation of King’s Draw.” Malfoy considered her. “Have you ever played?” “It’s like the muggle game truth or dare,” Blaise explained. Hermione ignored the way her stomach dropped. Shit. She held a palm out to Malfoy, who held the deck. “What’s this holiday variation?” A slow smirk pulled at the corner of his mouth. “We call it naughty or nice.” OR Where Hermione Granger decides to act like a normal teenager.

A Running Start by sundayviolet - T, one-shot - Hermione and Draco disagree with the DMLE’s assessment when their mutual friend and coworker, Theo, is poisoned. Alone at Hogwarts for Christmas, they must work together to find the truth. With their favorite buffer in the hospital, the two grow closer and finally admit what’s been long in the making.

All the Baubles by hermionejean99 - T, one-shot - Draco and Hermione are late twenty-something best friends, established in their careers. Draco asks Hermione to help him shop for his mother and his new mystery girlfriend while spending the day in Muggle London.

You and Me, Forevermore by Goldenbucky - G, one-shot - The one where Hermione chooses to go. And where Draco chooses to stay.

This fest is ongoing.

#hpfestofstars #fests/exchanges/challenges #dramione

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shadowriel · 4 months

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Every Sound Your Heart Makes

Here’s chapter 2 of my secret Santa gift for @headcanonheadcase! It’s been so fun creating this for you, and I hope you enjoy this next part.

Summary: It’s been six years since Azriel came back to his hometown, with his newborn daughter in tow. Six years since Gwyn moved away from whatever heartbreak she’d left behind in her previous life and opened up a diner in Starlight Grove.

Now, unable to resist the urge to help Gwyn, Azriel volunteers to design sets for their town’s Christmas musical. But what happens when the town grump and the woman he’s fallen for can no longer hold back from the inevitable?

Chapter 2: Follow Where You Lead

Read on AO3: Chapter 1 | Chapter 2

Read a snippet below:

It’s just him. Until he feels someone step out behind him.

There’s a note of surprise, evident in the tensing of Azriel’s shoulders. Even without turning around, he knows who it is: Gwyn, who surely should still be inside, engaged in conversation with the other townspeople. That’s what she does most Thursday nights—he knows this because he often finds himself blinking at the ‘Be Back Soon’ sign settled atop the door of her diner. It seems that even with her limited time in Starlight Grove, she’d already engrained herself enough into the community that people didn't seem to remember a time without her.

Azriel does—remember, that is. Before Gwyn, there had been few things he’d looked forward to in their small town. Yet, ever since he’d met her six years ago, her very presence had reshaped the way he saw this place. The Archeron’s bakery was no longer known for the best pies, but it was where Gwyn giggled in delight as she took bite after bite of what was supposed to be Azriel’s slice. Where she had whipped cream on the tip of her nose, that he gladly wiped off with the pad of his thumb. The town’s bookstore was no longer a place to get books, but where Gwyn had dragged him between shelves, stacking romance novels into his outstretched arms. Where she blushed when he’d settled them on a nearby table, picked one, and read a scene aloud.

And, somehow, Starlight Grove was not only where he’d grown up, but where he’d grown into this new version of himself—one marked with heartbreak and pain and, despite it all, love. He feels it, stirring in his chest, when he holds his daughter, and when he laughs with his mother as the two of them cook dinner. He feels it when he teases Nesta and Emerie, and when he has his annual snowball fight with his chosen brothers. He feels it now, when he recognizes Gwyn from the sound of her footsteps and the feel of her fingers as she wraps a hand around his wrist.

“Come on,” she says simply, using her hold to pull him along. She moves easily across the sidewalk, and even as Azriel presses his heels into the ground, there’s not much force behind it.

He lets her guide him. Of course, he does.

Turning towards Gwyn, he sees that she’s wearing her blue hat again. The material covers the tips of her ears, and, from this close, he can see every stitch in the knitted pattern. Her gloves, however, are absent now, so he can feel the cold press of her fingertips against his skin.

It draws a shiver up his spine, for more reasons than one.

“Where are we going?” he asks, the words strung together in a single breath.

Her response is short—curt. “To the theatre.”

To talk more about their plans for the musical, he’s sure. That’s what Gwyn had told him the week before, but there’s an urgency to her movements that prompts him to shift more of his weight onto his heels. To push back.

“What’s the hurry?”

Gwyn huffs, using her other hand to tighten her grip on him. She puts all her strength into trying to move him, and when he doesn’t budge—not even an inch—she turns narrowed eyes at him.

“I don’t want anyone to see us leaving together,” she admits, her tone more accusatory than anything.

Azriel blinks at her. He wonders if she can see the surprise in his expression as his gaze darts over her features, searching for more of an explanation to make sense of her words. When he doesn’t find it, he can only ask “Why?”

“They’ll talk.”

He laughs. And maybe it’s the lingering effect of the wine, maybe it’s the sight of colour rushing to Gwyn’s cheeks, but the sound is deep—uncontrolled in a way that leaves him nearly breathless.

Taglist (please let me know if you'd like to be added or removed): @foundressofnothing @captain-of-the-gwynriel-ship @trashforazriel @sv0430 @sunshinebingo @shadowsxgwynriel @thelovelymadone @damedechance @talons-and-teeth

For the @acotargiftexchange

#gwynriel #gwynriel fanfiction #gwynriel fanfic #acotar #acotar fanfiction #gwynriel supremacy #gwyneth berdara #gwyn berdara #azriel #au gwynriel #modern gwynriel #acotar secret santa 2023 #acotargiftexchange #every sound your heart makes

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kimhargreeves · 7 months

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Before You Go-Jin Itadori x Reader (Jujutsu Kaisen)

(A/N: Why did Gege draw almost all of JJK dad's attractive dilfs?! Anyways I've decided to write a short fic of Jin Itadori one shot since others have simped over Toji. Don't think anyone else thinks Jin is attractive, nobody requested this but I decided to write this. Let me know if anyone wants part 2, though it's already being planned. Also, should smut be included or not? Let me know JJK fans.)

Summary: Jin and You have been friends since childhood, final exams are coming up now determining both of your futures. You're crush on Jin Itadori is known to everyone, so you make it seem like you haven't studied for exams for spend time with him. It's Christmas Eve when head to his home and a decision is made when you're both alone.

"Reading that book again, Jin?" I blush when the pink haired man with glasses focuses his eyes back on me when he decided to close the book he had. Taking a small break from it.

"Finals are approaching, (Y/N). I gotta give it my all pass the test, you know how my father will be if he finds out I didn't pass."

I chuckle at him always becoming worried when it came to exams. "Don't stress yourself too much, Jin. You're the smartest guy in class, and the smartest man I've ever met."

Jin pouts while looking at me as he fixes his glasses back in his nose.

"You want me to help you in studying, don't you?"

I chuckle and try to laugh it off but saw a small smile spread across Jin's face when I sat back down with him and nudged my shoulder with his, leaning a bit too close to him.

The cold didn't bother me a bit if it meant I could get close to Jin. The weather was getting chilly since it was December and snow had fallen a dew days ago, and Christmas was just a day away.

"If you're so kind or have the time to. Then yes, I would gladly like you to help me."

Jin sighed struggling to not smile again. "You owe me this time, (Y/N)."

"Know what? For what's left of the school year I'll bring you lunch everyday, that'll make us even. I know how much you love my cooking." I blushed glancing over to look at his cute face.

"You're cooking is really good. You'll make a fine housewife someday."

I blushed a deeper shade of pink when he said that, "You think so?!"

Jin hummed in agreement and turned to smile at me.

"Then I'll make sure to marry a man who'll love my cooking. Maybe the man I'm looking to marry might be closer than I think." I smiled wide deciding to go further with the flirting.

"Maybe so.." Jin said fixing his glasses again and opening his book again, now passing it onto his other hand so I could take a good look at it as well.

Jin began to explain further on the subject and what might possibly be on the final exams. I didn't really may much attention on the topic since I already knew all about it, I just wanted to be as close to him as possible, be with him since I don't know if he's planning on traveling soon since we'll both be graduating from college.

The two of us remained together with me pretending to pay attention when I rested my head of my crushes shoulder, I felt him tense a bit when I did that and I internally chuckled when Jin had stuttered and quickly continued with his lesson.

"So, did you get any of that?" Jin asked closing the book and glancing down at me. I looked up and shook my head.

"Nope. I'm sorry."

Jin sighed defeated and I quickly sat back and watched him begin to stretch and stand up. "Well, it's getting late-"

"Let me make dinner for you!" I shouted making him look at me surprised. "I-I mean…yes! I made you stay out here on campus when you could've declined teaching me, let me cook something for you and your dad." I offered.

"What about your par-" Jin didn't finish the sentence and came over and rested his hand on my shoulder.

"Let's go, (Y/N)."

It must've slipped from Jin's mind…when he was about to mention my parents. It had been a year since they passed away, or killed as the news officially said, no evidence or anything was found on who killed them.

For a short time when that happened, the small Itadori household let me stay with them. If it weren't for Jin, would've been long gone.

My parents knew about my crush on Jin Itadori and I would often dream and tell them that'd they better be present on our wedding. A girl can dream..I wanted them to take part in the many things I wanted to do, unfortunately I was alone now.

"I'm home!" Jin announced when he was the first to step into his and his father's shared home. I placed my belongings near the entrance and took my shoes off before going inside the residence.

"I brought (Y/N) home!"

Jin loudly said and I walked with him with grocery bags in hand. The older Itadori suddenly appeared before us looking over at his tall son and over to me.

A small smile forming on his face, "Ah (Y/N)! It's always nice to see you with my son. This is your home too."

I smiled blushing when I felt Jin's eyes on me as he held a glass of water and started to drink, I bowed a bit and held the bags up a bit. "Thank you very much, sir. If there's no trouble I'll be preparing you both meals for the night."

"You're too kind, (Y/N). You know, the way to a man's heart is through his stomach, I see you're all ready doing fantastic job on my son, Jin."

Jin who has been drinking choked on the water and started to cough onto the sink. I raced over to him quickly dropping the bags and patting Jin's broad back.

We both heard his father laughing. "I'll leave you two lovebirds alone." He suggested with a small smirk and left towards the living room area.

"That old man." Jin smirked wiping his mouth and standing back straight, "it's nice to see him like this every now and then."

I smiled and looked up at him. "I really care for him as well. I hope you'll like what I'm preparing to cook." I rolled my sleeves up and began row ash the vegetables.

While doing so I heard some pans being taken out of the shelf. I turned and saw Jin wiping them and making sure they were dirty to use, "You think I'm gonna let you be the only one to cook?"

I hum and smiled. "Fine. You can help me out just a bit, but then you'll be out of the kitchen." I said continuing to wash the vegetables and slowly my sleeves began to lower themselves down about to get wet.

I gasped lightly when Jin grabbed my arms and began to carefully roll the sleeves to my dress up, making sure they wouldn't slip again.

"There wouldn't want you to get that cute dress wet." I blushed heavily and felt my heart beating faster.

"How about the person wearing it?!" I quickly asked.

Jin chuckled and simply patted my head. "Let's get cooking, (Y/N)." He said winking at me.

"Ahh this smells delicious!" My mouth watered at the many dishes I prepared with the help of Jin. His father, Jin and I were sat down on the cushions and saying a small prayer.

From outside of the Itadori home, I could see the sky getting darker with snow beginning to fall and many colorful Christmas lights brightening up the streets.

"And let's thank (Y/N) for preparing this delicious meal for us, may many blessings fall on you, my dear." Itadori's father said.

Making me blush and smile at the older man with Jin pouting at his father. "I also helped, you know?"

Ignoring his son, his father continued to speak. "When I'm on my deathbed promise me you'll continue to be a part of his family, and bringing me your famous chicken soup I enjoy."

My expression on the old man softened. Maybe he meant it if Jin and I were to marry, if I would continue to look after him too.

"Don't mind the old man." Jin sighed making his father hit his shoulder with a newspaper.

"Stop slouching and sit up straight." Jin nearly choking on the tea I prepared.

I began to chuckle then laugh at their interactions. "Don't you worry, sir. I'll continue to be a part of your family until the day I die. That's if your son is willing to accept me as well."

I blushed and hid my face looking at my lap. "I-I" Jin stuttered and his father answered for him.

"He accepts! Now let's dig in before the food gets cold." His father seemed really happy. Jin and I glanced at one another and smiled with a bright blush on both of our faces.

"You're more than welcome to spend the night here. It's getting colder and it can be dangerous to walk back home, thought we wouldn't have allowed you to leave if you had insisted." Jin's father had told me earlier when the three of us finished eating.

It was late and the streets were completely empty. Snow continued to fall and decorate the once melting ground. The night felt so peaceful.

I smiled to myself when I heard Jin's father snoring throughout the small home. I remained seated staring outside the glass door and watching the snow gently land on the door, and also admiring the medium sized Christmas tree I had gifted to them which was lit up colorful lights.

"Couldn't sleep either, huh?" Jin's gentle voice said when he came and saw me seated on the cushions.

"Decided to stay up a bit longer." I softly said still staring outside and turning to look at him. He was wearing warm pajamas, while I was wearing some clothes he lend me, pants that fitted a bit too big along with another large hoodie that could fit two people due to how small I am.

I also had a warm blanket over my shoulders. "Tomorrow's the final exams.." I commented.

"Want me to help you out?" I shook my head at Jin's offer and smiled looking at him again.

"I'm good. Thank you for always looking out for me."

I felt Jin move from where he once was and he took a seat down next to me and now drapped the blanket over on both of us. The close contact to him made me now blush a lot more, if he were to lean closer I think he would be able to hear my heart beating faster.

Jin hummed looking at me when I quickly looked away from his eyes, I felt him fixing his glasses before I felt one of his hands land in my forehead.

"You okay, (Y/N)? You seem a bit too red."

"No! I-I'm completely fine."

I began to overthink things now and was truly scared. Final exams. Depending on what we might want to work for, we could remain in Japan, leave the city or country. I don't want Jin to leave if any offers would be given to him by the choice in work he's been studying for.

Before Jin could pull his hand away I quickly grabbed it with my right hand, making him look down at me surprised. Without spilling any tears I looked over to him.

"Are you scared, Jin? On what the future might hold…for us?" I muttered not wanting moments like these to end.

"Honestly I am..but I know my father will have my back no matter what I decide to do. I'll have to learn to out those fears aside.. I'll have to work hard I can give my old man a nice life for the remaining year's…how about you? Do you have a goal in mind?"

I blushed and thought not too hard. "This might sound stupid..But I want to have kids. Children of my own."

My answered seemed to surprise Jin. "Don't you think it's a bit too early for that?" He joked still holding my hand.

Whatever our relationship may be. It's clear as day to anyone that we both care about each other a lot, pining over each other from time to time and it's clear there's an attraction on both sides. Thing is nothing has been official and no words have been said about it.

"Wouldn't you want to have kids? Maybe a small Jin running around the place?" I suggest and saw Jim thinking hard until he smiled a bit.

"A small Jin, huh? Another boy filling up the household..a girl would be a nice addition too." His words warmed my heart.

"Guess I'll have to find the right person for the job." We both said at the same time and smiled.

We both went back to looking at the window and I never felt so calm and relaxed in Jin's arms. Starting a life with Jin and having a family, kids with him doesn't sound like a bad idea at all.

"Jin…"

My eyes widened a bit when I felt his hand under my chin making me look up at him. I could see his warm eyes under his glasses. I began to close my eyes when Jin started to lean down further to me, my hands went up to grasp onto his hoodie when I felt his lips press against my own. I closed my eyes and hummed into the kiss when one of his hands was now placed behind my neck cradling me closer to him.

#anime #jjk #jjk manga #jin itadori #jin itadori x reader #yuji itadori #manga #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk fluff #jjk x reader

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ussgallifrey · 1 year

Text

Home for the Holidays | Part 2

✦ Summary: Never let it be said that you weren’t willing to do just about anything for your squadron. As you find yourself roped into an elaborate ruse to help fool Hangman’s mother for Christmas all seems to be going according to plan. But when that plan spirals out of control, the line between real and pretend begins to blur.

✦ Pairing: Jake “Hangman” Seresin x Female Reader

✦ Warnings: Anxiety, fake dating, hurt/comfort, Jake’s family being fake and generally awful towards him, mentions of divorce, minor angst.

✦ Word Count: 9.6k

✦ Author’s Note: Did I envision People Magazine’s 2022 Sexiest Man Alive in the role of Jake’s older brother? Perhaps. Also, to the lovely @top-hhun and @andrewrussgarfield, thank you for your constant Glen Powell spams - never stop <3

✦ Tags: @callsignbarb

[Master List]

The moment you blearily pull yourself up from the pleasant hum of intermittent sleep, it takes you far longer than you'd like to admit to realize that you are no longer aboard the carrier. That the rattling of pipes and the pelting sound of rain is nothing more than your companion starting the shower in the adjacent room.

Your eyes blink against the darkness, face snuggled into the too-soft pillow. Only the faintest ray of early morning light is visible through the black-out curtains.

It's late, about fifteen minutes past your usual wake-up time. With the glowing green digital alarm clock informing you that it's currently 8:16 am - make that over two hours local time past your usual wake-up.

But you and Seresin clearly were well-oiled military machines who had long passed the use of actual alarms to arise. It also meant that the man's shower would be short and to the point. So you pull yourself free from the tangle of sheets - stretching your arms out wide with a satisfying crack between your shoulder blades. You yank the sheets back in place, stifling a yawn as you brush the wrinkles out of the pillowcase.

Sleeping in a real bed, with a mattress and sheets, would be considered a luxury by most. For you, however, sleep had been a distant dream last night. Between the usual lullaby of the constant thrum of the flight deck and the ship itself, you were unaccustomed to the stock silence of a hotel room.

You distantly wondered if your roommate had fared any better.

Rounding the bed, you draw aside the curtains. The city of Austin is bathed in a muddied gray and purple this time of day. Dark clouds on the horizon are the harbinger of rain.

You had meant to ask him what the dress code was for the day, having thrown in a few viable outfits for the occasion - and your own family's get-together in two days, obviously. After hefting your bag onto the bed, you pull them out, unrolling the shirts in a nice even row on the remade bed.

The shower shuts off, the metal rings of the curtain scraping against the rod. A minute later, Hangman emerges in a puff of steam, a towel wrapped around his waist that he currently holds in a death grip with his right hand.

He sputters, using his free hand to push his wet hair away from his face.

You stare at him for a long, silent moment. Trying your best not to focus on the water currently soaking the carpet beneath his bare feet or the roll of droplets down his prominently toned abdominals. He seems equally frozen near the bathroom door.

Straightening out the shirt in your hands, you let your brows raise marginally as you ask a clipped, “Yes?”

He blinks, seemingly remembering himself, “Forgot my damn pants.”

“That jet lag really took a toll on you, huh?” you scoff, turning back to the task at hand as he pads across the floor to retrieve his bag. “What are you wearing for this, by the way?”

He hurries back into the bathroom and you hear the sound of clothes hitting the tile floor.

“Slacks and a shirt, why?”

You shrug, even though he can't see it, “Trying to figure out what to wear. I didn't exactly pack an evening gown.”

“Sure whatever you come up with - ” he pauses for a moment. There’s a clinking of what you believe to be a belt buckle and then he lets out a soft grunt, “ - will be fine.”

Looking over your shoulder at the golden glow spilling out of the bathroom, the faint shadow of Jake on the floor, “You're not instilling a lot of confidence right now, you know that right?”

There's a beat of silence before he pokes his head straight out of the door, “Didn't realize I needed to boost your ego any further there, Pits.”

You chuck the first shirt within reach at his head at the use of that awful nickname, but he easily avoids it. Grinning as he reemerges, straightening out his Henley and picking a loose piece of fuzz off the sleeve. He swoops down to grab your thrown shirt at least, offering it back to you with a soft chuckle.

“Why, what d'ya got?” he asks, a softer tone to go with the playful gleam in his eyes as he makes his way to you, peering at the layout over your shoulder.

“I don't know, sweetheart. I just wanna make a good impression,” your voice is sickeningly sweet, almost sing-song.

Hangman scrunches up his nose at the over-the-top act, his hands fixed on his hips.

“You're the first person I've brought home in over a decade. Unless you insult her cooking or the state of Texas, you should be fine.”

Glancing back at him, you're surprised to see him standing that close to you. You push a hand at his chest to reset the bubble of personal space you were usually afforded. He allows you to move him, though he's basically a living, breathing granite statute with a seemingly permanent shit-eating grin fixed on his face.

His eyes glint in amusement before he finally settles on, “Lose the jeans for this one and pick something that's not this color - ” he tugs at his own burnt umber-colored sweater, “I don't wanna make her think we're that kind of couple.”

“What? You don't want to color coordinate with your girl-friend?”

He grunts in lieu of actual words.

You turn up the shrillness of your voice, “So, I guess that's a no on the matching Christmas pajamas?”

He gives a soft chuckle, running his hand through his still damp hair. And then he's out of your way, snagging up his boots from the closet and sitting down on the edge of the bed to lace them up.

You think you have an outfit in mind now, as you gently pull it to the side and begin rolling the other options back up.

“What time do we need to head out again?”

He drops his hands on his knees with a heavy pat, “Probably close to 13:00?”

You nod in understanding - that would be plenty of time - as he situates himself more comfortably on the bed. Your hand pauses on the bathroom doorway as you watch Hangman pull out his phone and seemingly settle in.

“What, you're not gonna run down to the complimentary breakfast spread?”

His eyes pull away from the screen for a moment to meet your gaze, “Well, not without you. Be fairly rude of me, sweetheart.”

You sigh with realization - he had said practice makes perfect - as you lean against the doorway, “And so it begins.”

Jake laughs, waving you on dismissively, “Hurry your ass up, Pita. I can only be patient for so long.”

Raising the bird in return, you call out from the bathroom, “Better not've used up all the hot water, Bagman.”

“Beat me to the shower next time, sleeping beauty,” he hollers back.

With an amused shake of your head, you close the door and start up the water - relieved to find it to be a perfect scalding temperature. Jake had left the bathroom immaculate, of course. With only a singular used towel hanging on the back of the door to indicate that he had been in there at all.

You step into the tub and let the hot water engulf you as you try to mentally prepare yourself for the day ahead.

Jake slides into the chair across from you at the hotel’s dining area, his plate heaped with the typical continental breakfast servings: pancakes and scrambled eggs, strips of bacon, and a rogue apple that you wonder if he has any actual intention of eating.

Your own plate reflects the nerves that were surprisingly wracking your system. Plain oatmeal with just a drizzle of honey on top and a white mug of bitter-smelling coffee.

It was a bit ridiculous, you realize, to feel the way you were.

You had done this act before - but never on this scale, your mind supplements. And you had agreed to come along for this, of course. But now that you were only a few hours out from go-time, you were genuinely starting to feel like the typical partner would when meeting the parents for the first time.

With only the barest tingling of guilt starting to ease its way in too.

Only a few other patrons are currently dining with the two of you - fairly spread out too. The mounted flatscreen has the Weather Channel playing at a sort of unreasonably loud volume; probably for the benefit of the older couples who were up earlier in the morning.

There's strands of looped garland with twinkling lights throughout the sparsely-decorated room. The little snowmen and thin Christmas trees on the counter are a reminder of the jolly season. Even some of the hotel staff at the front desk had Santa hats on.

But right now, you were feeling just about anything but the pleasant thrum of yuletide cheer.

After stirring your bowl for another long minute without so much as lifting the utensil up to actually eat anything, you finally let the spoon settle to the side as you eye your companion.

“Okay, Seresin,” you sigh, “Play it out for me again.”

He lets a slow smirk grace his lips as he finishes off the last of his bacon.

“Nerves, Pita?” he mocks, wiping his hands clean on a napkin.

You avoid his gaze as you take a sip of your cooling brew, “Just trying to sell this act.”

He has to bite his lip to keep from outright laughing at the obvious lie, “Right, right. Well, let’s see. We scoot out of here at 12:30, avoid the major roads and show up a few minutes early to contemplate our existence - ”

His eyes gleam as you snort into your drink.

“My momma flits and fawns over us on the doorstep. She’ll wanna show you around the place, but don’t touch anything. Just compliment her stylistic design choices for a bit. Then food and pleasant small talk. Followed by us trying - and probably failing - to get out of there before nightfall.”

With an accompanying nod, “Sounds easy enough.”

He grins, going back in for his eggs, “Should be a breeze if you use that sweet I just love my boyfriend Jake so damn much charm.”

You scoff, nearly choking on your oatmeal.

He grimaces, “Really selling it, Pits.”

Coughing into your arm, you manage out a gruff, “Fuck off, Hangman.”

He turns his head, waiting for your throat to clear up, slowly working away at his own meal.

“Hmm, okay. You only mentioned your mom. What about your brother…s…?”

There’s a downturn of his lips as his eyes meet yours - annoyed that you had apparently forgotten. As though you weren't constantly bombarded by the stories of thirty-seven other people's families over the course of your deployment.

“Brothers. As in two of them, and a sister 's well. But it’s just gonna be you and me today.”

Before you can stop yourself from prying, you ask a very pointed, “Why?”

Hangman pauses mid-bite. Leaning back in his chair, his spoon clattering to his plate, he stares at your face for a long silent moment. You almost think he’s going to ignore it entirely, but after a full minute, he finally offers up the semblance of an answer.

“I’m the youngest of the bunch. They were out of the house by the time everything with the divorce happened. We all remember things… differently,” he lets out a sigh, settling forward with his arms on the table. “The three of them get on with my old man, me with my momma. Simple as that.”

Not having a proper reply to that, you merely nod, “Okay.”

He waves his hand, as if clearing the air itself of the moment, “Makes our job a hell of a lot easier, that’s for sure.”

You don't ask anything too deep after that, just reassuring the finite details of the visit. He at least helps settle your nerves down to a reasonable level where you don't feel like you're vibrating out of your own skin. And then you're finishing up your breakfast at last and Hangman's collecting your dishes into a careful stack on the table.

Back in the room, the two of you set about relaxing and preparing in your own way. Your companion, for his part, seems too strung now to do much more than doomscroll through his phone from the edge of the bed. You can’t entirely blame him as the minutes tick by and the reality truly sinks in.

Fooling an interested girl or a pushy guy every once in a blue moon was one thing. But putting on the act, for more than an hour, for one of your parents, while sober, well… that was the biggest form of uncharted territory there was.

You try to hype yourself up in the bathroom mirror as you apply some makeup.

Unfortunately, your typical day-to-day life didn’t involve this level of self-care, and you almost regretted bringing it along to begin with, but you were trying to play a certain role. So, you monkey with the blender sponge and hope to god the foundation in your bag matches your actual skin tone.

I agreed to do this.

As strange as it seems, it’s really for his benefit in the long run.

It’s just a few hours of this and then we’re done.

Though you try to remind yourself of the facts - the basic parameters of this strange mission the two of you were on - your own mind seems to want to play against you with every turn of positivity.

No one will buy the act.

You’re fooling an innocent woman.

This is crossing some serious moral boundaries.

And while the rest of your squadron was off enjoying the first real day of their short leave, you were about to do this. You could be back home, taking it slow and easy with the people who mattered; the people who loved you. Instead, you were trying to look like a presentable girlfriend for your wingman.

You’re grateful that your stealth companion waits for you to finish the final coat of mascara before he gives a low whistle from the open doorway. It’s also a good thing that your reflexes are as steady as they are because you have to suppress the startled jump your body wants to take, gripping the counter and uttering a dammit, Seresin instead.

Offering him a tight grimace as you pack away your supplies, Jake steps forward - uncrossing his arms - until he’s standing just behind you.

“You clean up good, Pits.”

If you didn’t think your mascara would smear, you probably would have rolled your eyes. Instead, you meet his gaze in the reflection of the mirror. The two of you looked good together. In fact, if you were an unsuspecting passerby, you could almost say you looked like a typical couple.

“You say that to all the girls, Jake.”

“Ooh,” he recoils, smiling wide. “That’s honestly weird.”

Brushing past him to get back to your bag in the main room, you ask over your shoulder, “What, me calling you by your real name?”

“Yes!”

You just shake your head, sitting down on your bed to zip your makeup kit back into your travel bag, and fix him with a long look.

“Well, that’s what you wanted me to do, right?”

He seems conflicted, challenged by the situation in a way he can’t quite gain control of as he twists the watch on his wrist over and over again.

“So used to you calling me Hangman,” the smile he shoots your way is soft and genuine, “But I can’t exactly have you doing that in front of my momma, now can I?”

You shrug in understanding, settling your arms on your knees as you seem to contemplate your options, “I guess I could pull out one of those cute little pet names you love so much?”

Mulling it over for a second, he ultimately nods, returning to pacing a small circle in front of the dresser.

“Nothing too… gooey, for my sake, please. I won’t be able to keep a straight face.”

Crossing your heart and holding up your hand like you were swearing an oath, “I’ll keep it simple for your poor conservative heart, promise.”

Hangman grins, going to grab his phone off the charger, “You’re a saint, Pita.”

Giving a half-hearted thumbs up for him, you go searching through the inner pocket of your bag for the small metal case you had brought along from home. Flicking open the switch lock, you pull out the small gold chain. Having to dip your chin down to lay the necklace around your neck and work the clasp into place.

Only when you lift your head back up do you notice your companion’s very pointed gaze. Almost self-consciously, you grab hold of the golden heart dangling from the chain - resting just above your sternum.

“Thought it’d be a good touch,” you mumble, dropping your hands to your lap once again.

When you do meet his eyes, his gaze is easy and his lips are quirked into a playful smirk, “What, did I buy that for you?”

Glancing down at the chain once more, you merely lift your hands in a vague if that’s what you want kind of gesture.

“Well, all right then,” he grins.

In truth, it had been a gift from your parents before you left for the Academy. A familiar reminder of the family you had waiting for you across the country and, eventually, across the ocean.

But, for today only, it could serve as the supposed token of loving affection from your fake boyfriend.

Anything to sell the act, right?

The rental car comes to a stop in the driveway. Jake’s knuckles are nearly paper white from where they’re gripping the steering wheel.

You don’t want to say anything, for fear of making the situation worse.

While things had been fine leading up to leaving the room, everything seemed to change the moment you were actually sitting in the car. The entire ride had been traveled in near silence with the tension so palpable it was almost strangulating. At one point, three stop signs back, he had made the fraught suggestion of just turning around and going back to the hotel.

But here you were.

In the cookie-cutter model home neighborhood of peak upper-class Austin suburbia.

The house you’re parked outside of is practically identical to every other one on the street. A newer two-story, gray-sided building with white windows and doors, black accents, and fake-stone columns. The only difference seems to be that the main walkway is lined with two perfect rows of immaculate pink begonia flowers.

You glance back over at Hangman and find that he’s not moved from his position of looking like he’s seconds from reversing the car and driving all the way back to Lemoore.

“So…” your voice is disturbingly loud in the cabin of the car and you wince at the unintentional volume, “Are we doing this?”

He grips the wheel tighter, breathing out through his nose.

Raindrops lazily make their journey down the windshield. While the weather had offered you nothing more than a late-season drizzle, the real storm seems to be brewing in the driver’s seat next to you. The air tenses for a final assault, the formation of thunder clouds before the initial clap of lightning.

“Yeah,” he grits out through a drawn breath, “Fuck it.”

Jake pulls the keys from the ignition and props open his door, urging you to do the same. You wait for him, dutifully, as he rounds the front of the rental car before the two of you head up the path to the house.

It feels a lot less like a companionable holiday visit and much more like the final walk up to the executioner’s block. Even the ornate blow-mold snowman on the front stoop does nothing to change the mood.

When faced with the white and gold ribboned wreath on the front door, he pauses, angling his head down toward your ear to say, “I owe you so much.”

You crane your neck to meet his eyes, his face is so close to your own that the scent of his aftershave lingers in your senses.

“Thank me when it’s over.”

With a curt nod, he reaches out to knock three times on the door before recoiling his hand and immediately placing it on your lower back. You’re barely able to force a smile onto your face before the door is opening up.

It almost begs to question just how long she had been standing on the other side, waiting for that signaling knock.

“Oh! Look at you.”

Patricia Seresin is a thin-faced woman with honey-colored eyes and sharp dimples, much like her son’s. Her hair is more of the boxed-dyed blonde variety than natural and her tanned complexion stands out against the collar of her white turtleneck.

She spreads her arms wide open, almost as though going in for a hug, her hands coming so close to touching both yours and Jake’s faces before ultimately stopping a good inch short. Her lips form a tight smile as she brings her hands back close to her chest, gripped tightly together.

“Hi, Momma,” he smiles from beside you, his fingers digging in further against your back. “This is - ”

Jake introduces you by rank and name, though you’re a little more distracted by the rogue Yorkie in a miniature Christmas sweater that comes barrelling through the doorway to yap at you.

Patty swoops the pup into her arms, flicking it on the nose, “That’s downright rude and you know it.”

Hangman coughs into his fist as the tiny dog begins to snarl at the two of you.

You quickly step forward, “It’s nice to finally meet you!”

Her eyes light up, clearly delighted, “Well, it was a bit of a shock to me, dear. He talks about you often enough that I thought something might be going on but I never expected - oh, gosh. Look at me! Come in, come in!”

She moves ahead into the foyer while you glance back at Hangman who gives you an approving nod. So far, so good.

As the two of you kick off your shoes and boots, he says, “Momma, I didn’t think that thing was still kicking after all this time.”

“Jacob Daniel!”

You snort at the use of his full name and he merely smirks at you.

“Peppi has been in this family for fourteen years now, he’s far from death’s door, thank you very much.”

While the dog in question has seemingly had his fill of you both, his tiny little nails clacking against the wood-grain linoleum, Patty watches the two of you from just across the entryway.

“Where were you two staying again?”

“The, uh, Hilton. On Burnet,” Jake carefully places your boots next to his on the designated rug by the door. All the shoes are in a perfect line, actually - without so much as a speck or scuff on them.

She hums, glancing over at the large black ornate clock on the wall that reads just five minutes after the hour. Her eyes appraise the two of you for another second before she heads into the kitchen.

“I have two perfectly good guest rooms, Jacob. You know that. I would have been more than happy to have you and your beautiful girlfriend spend the night here.”

While you mouth the word beautiful at him in a moment of surprise, he just sighs and throws a forlorn look your way. The two of you follow after her into the kitchen at the rear of the house.

“I know that, Momma.”

You can’t help but stare at the bare gray walls, the few metallic gold pieces of decor on the entry table, a single glass Christmas tree mold on the island counter. You were almost afraid to breathe, let alone touch anything of hers. It was just so minimalistic.

Grabbing hold of Jake’s arm instead, with both of your hands, you smile, “I think what Jake means to say is that he didn’t want to intrude. We’re both still stuck on ship time right now.”

She pauses what she’s doing near the stove, turning back to properly look at you. It takes a second but she smiles and nods.

“I don’t know how you put up with it,” she laughs, incredulous, “He was such an awful guest whenever he came back home. If he bothered to come back at all.”

“Momma,” he sighs, all too good-naturedly.

But the last part had been said so abruptly, so coolly, that you barely have the chance to school your features. Even though he seems to deflect the comment with a roll of his eyes and a can you believe this jokester sort of attitude.

Jake merely squeezes your arm and walks across the room to his mother’s side, with a hey, anything I can help with, while you’re still trying to process the words.

As a naval officer, you prided yourself in maintaining a certain composure under pressure. From day one at the Academy, you knew what the expectations were when it came to inspections and standing at stock-still attention. Upperclassmen screaming instructions in your face during Plebe Summer had you trained to be as cool as a cucumber. Infallible.

But right now, for the first time since that initial intake day, you were genuinely struggling. And it wasn’t even your family, let alone your drama. Hell, it was barely even one comment of ill contempt. And yet…

Remember the act, you remind yourself. Schooling it in, forcing that oblivious and sweet smile to grace your lips once again as you move to join Jake and his mother.

Each stovetop burner is in use, with different pots of food steaming away. It all smells delicious, of course - a classic holiday spread. The counter along the window is covered in foil-wrapped platters and serving trays. From the looks of it, it's far more food than what three people and a senior dog could possibly eat.

She bats his hand away from one of the pans with her wooden spoon, a warm smile on his face as he leans down to kiss the top of her head.

“It’s good to see you outside of those grainy video calls,” she admits, turning around to wipe her hands on an ornate dish towel. “Now, this’ll just take another hour to finish up, so what can I get you in the meantime?”

While Jake seems more than comfortable going straight to the fridge in search of his own drink, you glance down at the array of trays on the island - already uncovered and waiting. There’s so much food.

“Oh, honey, please grab a plate and help yourself. Those deviled eggs are my specialty!”

Jake’s suddenly at your side, “She’s gonna have to pass on those, Momma. Thought I told you?”

Patricia scrunches her brows as you try to ease your way out of your fake boyfriend’s grasp to get a plate for yourself, “It’s okay, really.”

He sidesteps you again, leveling you with a playfully stern expression.

“Baby.”

The way he drawls out the pet name is such a good touch, you almost want to high-five him for it.

“We don’t need you sick in the bathroom before the main course even comes out.”

You’re a little surprised that he remembered your egg intolerance. Not that it was a closely guarded secret or anything. But yeah, probably a good call on his part. Considering there was a rather large tray of them too.

“Oh,” she sighs, a hand to her chest, “Honestly, would one little egg really do that much damage, Jacob? See - ” she reaches out to guide you along the island, “Just about everyone uses paprika in their recipe. But me? I use chipotle. You taste this and tell me it’s not the best deviled egg you’ve ever had.”

Suddenly faced with the aforementioned appetizer, you gulp down a reflexive gag and try to smile a polite apology.

“Nope, not happening - ” Jake immediately swipes the morsel from his mother’s hand and shoves it into his own mouth.

Patricia, for her part, seems to give up the argument after glancing over at you. Instead, eyeing her son with a tired sort of look that spoke of dealing with several years of similar antics growing up.

“Honestly, Jacob.”

He just grins, licking his fingers clean.

“Just looking out for my girl, Momma.”

Your heart does swell a little bit at that. He was selling this part so well. You would have to up your own game to match his level - just like when you were flying together. There was a reason Manning always paired you two up for training: you were always pushing each other to do better.

“Sorry, they do look delicious,” you lightly schmooze, moving to wrap your hand around his left arm, leaning your head just slightly so towards his shoulder.

She sighs reluctantly, “Well, if they would be that much of an inconvenience to you…” with another shake of her head, she moves back to the stove, “Jacob, why don't you show her around while I finish this up?”

After nabbing another egg for himself, he gives a little nod and gestures with his chin further into the room. Feeling bold, you drag your hand down his arm until you’re able to clasp your palm with his. His soft green eyes gleam as he tugs you along into the adjoining seating area.

“So,” you keep your voice low, “I’m guessing this isn’t where you grew up?”

Jake glances down at you, “Uh, yeah. She got this place right after they, you know - ” he makes a general slashing motion with his right hand.

“Well, it’s very pretty,” you say, a little louder for her hopeful benefit.

He seems to disagree, stopping in front of the corner fireplace where a light draping of sparkly white garland rests.

“It’s plain and sterile, I'll give it that.”

While you didn’t necessarily disagree with his sentiment, you certainly wouldn’t say it out loud.

There’s three picture frames on the mantle. A black and white portrait of two blonde boys holding a baby wrapped in a blanket. The middle frame holds another baby, a newborn photoshoot from the looks of it - also in black and white. And on the far side is an outdoor shot of three little blonde girls and a boy, also in a monochromatic scale.

“Are these the - ”

“Grandkids,” he nods.

You let out a low whistle, “Could probably form a baseball team in a few years.”

That makes him laugh, slipping his hand from yours to rub at his chin.

“God, I think we’re missing one in here,” he squints at the picture on the far right, “Yeah, yeah. This was before June was born - my niece. Sister’s youngest.”

He lets out a soft hum as he stares at the frames for another moment more - almost like he was preparing to comment further on it. But then he finally jerks his head towards the front of the house.

“Come on, I’ll give you the grand tour.”

As he leads you toward the dining room, you glance back to see Patricia watching the two of you with an unreadable kind of expression on her face. You can only hope that you’re selling the act as well as you thought you were.

In the privacy of the adjoining room, he admitted that he thought the two of you were being pretty convincing. Promising that you just had to make it through dinner and then you would be in the home stretch.

You ended up back in the kitchen, not that long after the short tour of the downstairs area. Hovering next to the island counter, not willing to touch it after you spotted Patty with a bottle of disinfectant shortly after you returned. If Jake’s earlier words hadn’t given it away, then the bare-bones and precision-made state of her home made it pretty apparent that the woman was very much concerned with cleanliness.

In truth though, it doesn’t take long at all for her to finish the final touches of prep. With the two of you helping to at least bring the food to the table - though she ultimately directs where everything is put down and how it’s placed. But, you figure she made all of this food so she deserves to have it done her way.

The long dining table is set for three, though it’s obvious the space was made for a much larger crowd. Gentle instrumental Christmas covers play from a CD player in the corner of the room. Jake makes easy enough conversation with her at first. Asking after her gardening and her weekly aerobics class.

But, fairly soon, the conversation turns over to you.

“So, do you have one of those pilot nicknames too?”

“Callsign, Momma,” Jake sighs with a gentle smile, shaking his head like it was a common mistake he dealt with.

You grab a second piece of cornbread from the plate in front of you. Almost sheepish to explain it out loud to someone outside of your squadron, “Uh, yeah. They call me Pita.”

She pauses, her fork halfway to her mouth as she glances from you to Jake.

“You’re- you’re not one of those vegetarian types, are you, dear?”

“Uhm - ” you balk, looking towards your wingman.

“Ma - ” Jake runs his hand down his jaw, “P-I-T-A, like the bread. Not the animal rights group.”

She gulps, then smiles - a little uneasily - “Well, all right then.”

“It’s, uhm, it’s an acronym, actually,” you smile awkwardly gently pulling apart the roll, “It’s not because I just really love pita pockets or anything.”

The moment it leaves your mouth though, you realize you might have made a grave mistake after looking over at Jake. It wasn’t, exactly, the most appropriate of words. And maybe, based on how sweet bless your heart southern Patricia was, you should have known better.

You watch the way that his Adam’s apple bobs for a moment before he reaches over to squeeze your hand on the table.

“Yeah, it stands for Pretty Terrific in the Air. Can you believe that?”

You’re fast to nod in agreement - like he didn’t just pull that out of nowhere. But, to be fair, he did know the woman better than you and probably knew what she could reasonably handle.

He kicks your foot under the table.

“Oh, now that is sweet,” she fawns, “I know this boy here was given his little nickname because he’s just so good at that hangman game.”

Your brows raise in surprise because that was definitely not why he was given that callsign. You thump his foot with your own and he immediately traps the toe of your sock with his own, shooting you a pointed don’t you dare look.

“Yup, that’s it, Momma.”

You have to bite down on your tongue to keep from smiling too wide. Man, if only the rest of the squadron could hear this crap. They would have a fucking field day with Ms. Pretty Terrific in the Air and the apparent reigning kids' word-game champion.

Another minute passes as you work at the food on your plate. It was good, pretty filling, very heavy on the butter content, and definitely not as good as the stuff your own family made - not that you would ever say that to your hostess, of course.

“Mmm,” she sets her water glass back down on its designated coaster. “So, are you two going up to see your family too?”

Ah, this was one moment the two of you had discussed, luckily.

“Yup,” Jake grins. “We head out Wednesday. Figure we’ll have an extra night here to recover from all the traveling.”

In actuality, you were both going to the airport on Wednesday. With you traveling to Detroit Metro and Jake heading off to Fresno once again. While you would be spending the last few days of your leave in the company of your own family, he had plans to relax and unwind back in California.

But she certainly didn’t need to know that.

Patricia nods, “And where is home again? Jacob didn’t mention, I don’t believe.”

The man in question seems very focused on his plate, refusing to meet your eyes.

While some of the squadron were vocal about home, or it was apparent in their regional accents and - in Jake’s case - his football team of choice. The topic of home more often than not was focused on the family and people you left behind. And, much like how you hadn’t been able to recall the number of siblings he had, you doubt Hangman had been able to remember that little tidbit about you.

“Michigan.”

“Oh, quite a ways up there then!” she exclaims with a laugh. But then she places her cutlery down on the sides of her plate and fixes you with a focused stare. “And what exactly do your parents do, dear?”

Swallowing the food in your mouth before responding, feeling a little bit like you were on the receiving end of a subtle interrogation.

“They, uh, they own a bed and breakfast. That’s where we’ll be staying actually,” you glance over at your companion, “They always decorate it so pretty this time of year too. Though I just love your decor here, it's really quite beautiful, Patty.”

She holds a hand to her heart, “Why, thank you! No one quite knows the amount of work that goes into making this house look the way it does.”

And then she’s off on another tangent about the places she shops and the amount that every little thing costs. Jake seems very resigned from the conversation at that point, tiredly glancing out the front window, while you try to appear interested and excited at her words.

It’s only when she teasingly chastises you for not taking a second helping of her famous mashed potatoes, that things take a rather interesting turn.

“What the - ” Jake murmurs around a mouthful of turkey.

He wipes his lips clean with the white cloth napkin and cranes his head towards the window at the end of the table, nearly leaning into the contents of his plate.

“Uh, Ma. Were you expecting company?”

One glance over at her and you can see the obvious brewing of excited anticipation, like a kid trying to hide the gift they made for their parents for Christmas.

A sudden rush of dread hits you, seeping into your stomach and turning the otherwise delicious meal into a sloshing upheaval of disagreeable mush. Patricia stands up, not even bothering to fold her napkin as she strides out of the room on near-tiptoe.

“Momma?” Jake calls after her, sending you a distressed look as he rises to follow after her.

“What do you think - ” you go to ask.

He just shakes his head, halfway out of the room, “Don’t know.”

Since you didn’t want to be the last one out of the loop, you’re quick to follow after the two of them. Rounding the hallway just as the front door opens and a happy scream from your hostess rings out.

“Oh! Look at you! My handsome boy.”

You’re just a step behind Jake. He’s sagged against the wall - holding his arm out to stop you from moving any further.

“Shit,” he mutters, stress and agitation vibrating off of him as he runs a hasty hand through his hair.

The object of his frustration comes into view the moment Patty shuts the door, guiding the man into the foyer with a proud sort of look on her face.

Your stomach drops. Quickly looking towards Jake for support in the matter but he’s already long gone as he clenches the hand blocking your path, dropping it to his side.

“Hey, Jackie,” the man grins, his dimples eerily similar to the two other blondes in the room.

Straightening his back, Jake gestures from you to the other man, “Honey. Meet my brother. Josh.”

It wouldn’t take a forensic investigator to notice the obvious tension between Jake and his older brother. As he grips his cutlery with newfound aggression, barely speaking with more than single-word answers.

The man - Joshua, but call me Josh - is very obviously a Seresin child.

He’s got the signature dimples, of course. But he’s taller than your date, by about five or six inches. His hair is a shade darker too, speckled with bits of gray and amber - and with a well-groomed beard to match. He’s got the playful gleam in his eyes that Hangman often has, but his are of an ocean blue variety - not the familiar meadow green you were used to seeing.

And he seems far more comfortable in the environment than the two of you. Sitting next to Patricia, directly across from his younger brother. Piling a plate high with food.

“So, you got yourself a girl? Didn’t mention that the last time we talked,” he smirks, biting into a roll.

“Nope,” comes the clipped reply.

You grip your own fork tighter, nervously glancing between the two of them. It makes you wonder just how long it had been since these two had last spoken. Half a year, if not more, would be your guess.

Josh chuckles, looking over at you instead.

“And you are the poor unfortunate person who has to share a room with this guy? My condolences.”

You force out a small laugh, though every instinct makes you want to chuck your water in the guy’s face.

“I assure you, compared to some of the people I’ve had to share berthing with, this man is the best roommate anyone could ask for.”

Green eyes meet yours and you carefully squeeze his hand. You could get through this - the two of you. Just grin and bear this unexpected encounter and make an early excuse to leave. You’d certainly faced far worse situations than this before.

The older Seresin brother huffs in consideration, leaning back in his chair as he starts to work into the rest of his meal.

“So,” Patricia’s voice is an octave too high, having keenly noticed the shift in conversation, “How’s my grandson?”

He smiles, digging into his pants pocket for a moment to retrieve his phone, “Getting into trouble. Kid’s climbing just about everything now.”

Patty coos as he hands the phone over to her, clearly looking at a picture of the boy in question, “He’s got your nose, Joshy. Gosh, what a looker. How’s Angie holding up?”

With a shrug, he takes the phone and passes it over to Jake who merely stares at it with an unreadable expression.

“Eight months last week, she’s about as big as a balloon now and barely gets off the couch - says her feet are swelling up.”

Jake pushes the phone along to you and you glance down at the picture of the, admittedly, cute-looking baby. With wisps of blonde hair and rosy cheeks. Your companion snorts, indignantly.

“You left your pregnant wife at home, alone, with a baby?”

Looking up from the phone, you turn to see the seething look on Jake's face.

Josh waves dismissively, “Yeah, she can’t fly now. And like hell I’m bringing DJ along on his own - sorry, Ma. The kid’s a handful right now. Figured everyone will come over to Houston after this one’s born anyway. Give the girl a break from the usual rodeo show of a family Christmas.”

“A break?” Jake shakes his head, gritting his teeth with a hollow laugh, "I'm sure trying to wrangle your kid all day long is what she considers a break."

"Jacob -"

"Nah, it's okay, Momma," Josh had an almost wolfish grin as he holds out a hand to seemingly settle her.

"This one wouldn't know anything about that life. I mean, this is the first time since, what - high school - that he's had someone around? No offense, Jackie."

Jake, for his extreme benefit, forces a tight grin - something far more similar to Hangman than anything you had seen yet today.

"And yet…"

The slamming of silverware on porcelain makes you startle, eyes widening as you stare at the stern-looking matriarch.

“Jacob,” she nearly hisses, “This was a perfectly lovely meal up until five minutes ago. Could you put aside your unnecessary opinions for the sake of not only Christmas but for the sake of your girlfriend? Who, in case you failed to notice, is probably receiving an absolutely terrible impression of us right now.”

“I don’t - ” you try to soften the blow.

Hangman clenches his jaw, rolling his neck - the tension falling to his shoulders and back. Snatching his half-empty glass from the table, he rises and all but stalks out of the room.

You stare after his retreating form for a moment, compelled to follow after him but also equally frozen by the situation.

And then a low whistle from just across the table rings out.

Glancing over at the older Seresin brother, you meet his clearly amused eyes.

“See? He’s still throwing fits after all this time. Maybe that’s why they haven’t promoted him yet.”

“Honestly, Joshua,” Patty sighs, carefully resuming her meal with dainty bites.

If you weren’t more concerned with your friend’s image today, perhaps you would have said something. Not held back your punches. But you were still in the middle of the chess game, even if there was an unexpected player on the board. So, with all the decorum you can manage, you grab your own glass and slide out of your chair.

“I’m gonna go check on him.”

Just out of earshot and out of sight from the dining room, you find your wingman stock still in the middle of the kitchen, staring out the back window.

You clear your throat, knowing better than to startle him. His shoulders immediately sag as you come up alongside him.

“We good? Jake?”

It takes a second, but his soft green eyes meet yours.

“I’m sorry for draggin’ you into this whole thing, Pita.”

With a smirk and a slight shake of your head, you slap his arm gently.

“You think I give a damn about your hotshot brother over there? Please, we eat guys like him for breakfast and you know it.”

You’re grateful that the stupid line manages to make him chuckle, dropping his head down before he meets your gaze again.

“Still, didn’t exactly prepare you for this.”

“Eh,” you shrug. “What’s one more family member? And hey, I can fake a migraine or something and get us out of here before she brings out the desserts, you know?”

Jake sighs, wrapping his arm around your shoulders - tucking your head in just below his chin, “You’re a fucking saint, Pits.”

You smile into the fabric of his sweater, hands finding purchase on his waist, “And don’t you forget it when we’re back on base, Seresin.”

The faintest touch of his lips on the top of your head makes you flush with warmth, but the moment quickly dissipates when you hear a teasing awww from the other side of the room.

The two of you turn - Jake’s arm still around your shoulders - only to find Josh, with his phone in hand.

“I’m sorry,” he smiles. “I know I came in a little hot back there. But this right here?” he points at the two of you, “That was too sweet. And Jess was begging me for proof anyway.”

Jake clears his throat, his hand tightening from where it rests on your bicep.

“What?”

Josh’s brow bunches together for a moment as he begins to walk towards the two of you.

“Well, I mean the fact that you actually are dating - bringing someone home, I might add. That’s kind of big news, buddy. Jess didn’t believe me at first. So, I sent her this and - ”

He holds up his phone and turns the screen to face you. You’re met with the image of Jake’s face on the top of your head, your own arms around his middle. If you didn’t know better, you would assume the two of you were a couple.

“Hell, Dad is gonna be ecstatic when he meets you - ” he smiles at you.

But Jake almost seems to push you back, his arm becoming a barrier between you and own his brother.

“Dad?”

Another furrowed brow crosses his face as he swipes up the bottle of red on the countertop, “Well, yeah? Ma said you guys were in town until Wednesday, so I figured you were coming to their thing tomorrow.”

Hangman rubs a hand down his face.

“I never fucking said that, man.”

“Jesus,” Josh chuckles, holding his hand up in mock surrender. “Need to get over that shit, Jackie. It was a long ass time ago and everyone’s gonna be there anyway. Shit, Kensie hasn’t seen you in almost five years - she starts middle school next fall.”

He groans in annoyance and you quickly step out of his line of fire as he begins to pace along the island.

“Yeah, well maybe I wasn’t ready to go visiting him yet. Maybe I didn’t want to involve her in this whole thing. God, would you just fucking think about something other than yourself for once?”

Jake seems about ready to hit his second wind, going in for the kill shot, when the phone in his pocket starts pinging: one notification after the other. He sighs, yanking the device out to stare at the incoming hailstorm of messages from the family group chat.

“Just… had to go runnin’ your mouth to Jess of all people.”

Josh, by now, has opened the bottle and pulled down three glasses. He swishes the wine in his for a moment, offering a half-hearted, “Sorry, man.”

In return, Jake just scoffs, firing off a text before finally looking over at you.

“They want me - us, to come over tomorrow.”

You stare at your friend, your companion, your wingman.

He’s the epitome of anxiety-ridden and stressed out. Clenching his hands into fists, chewing a sore spot onto his bottom lip.

You think about Patricia and Josh, how they’ve treated him while here in your presence. Then you consider the obvious hold-up he seemed to have about anything to do with his own father. If today was the test run, then tomorrow was nearly guaranteed to be the real shitshow.

In good conscience, you knew you couldn’t let him face that alone.

Not many people outside of your squadron would willingly give Hangman the time of day. He appeared cocky, a little too smart-alec for his own good. But you could see right through that act - right through the bullshit. And this man was terrified at the prospect of having to show up to a family get-together with almost no real way out.

Patty had already dropped the little fact that the two of you were already going to be in Austin an extra day. His sister was seemingly excited to meet you, his totally not fake girlfriend.

And, when you consider all the things the two of you had been through together. The missions you had flown when life and death were truly on the line, well… this didn’t seem all that bad, now did it?

With a calming breath, you smile gently up at Jake.

“Okay.”

He blinks, seemingly resetting his brain back a few seconds as he repeats, “O-okay?”

“Yeah, honey. I’m with you,” you reach for his hand, and like a personal life preserver, he latches on and squeezes tightly.

The two of you make it through the rest of the meal with tight-lipped and less-than-genuine smiles. You bite your tongue at the overly rude comments and try your best to shed Jake in good light. At one point, Patty disappears into the kitchen for a solid fifteen minutes when things become a little too heated between the brothers again.

She comes back with the slightest sway to her step and an all-together more pleasant attitude.

You make it through dessert and offer to help clean up. Jake and his brother share a very intense conversation on the couch as you pack up leftovers for Patricia. His eyes meet yours several times, but he just shakes his head and gets drawn back into the discussion again.

By the time the sky is falling dark and the porch lights across the street are turning on in near-perfect synchronicity, the two of you had clearly had your fill.

With Jake promising to call her more often, or at the very least try to write more often. And, with a stoic face, he slaps his brother on the shoulder and says that the two of you will see him tomorrow afternoon.

The drive back to the hotel is silent once again. Though you can’t particularly blame the guy. If he was anywhere near as exhausted as you felt, then the silence was a fucking reprieve from the day.

Once inside the sanctuary of your room, you both go about stripping the masks you had worn, with Jake allowing you first go at the bathroom to wipe off your makeup and properly clean your face. He’s sat on the edge of his bed when you do emerge in your pajama pants and sleep shirt. His boots are still on, his hands in an entwined fist between his spread legs, and his eyes fixed on a place far away from the hotel carpet in front of him.

With a gentle sigh, you carefully place your toiletry bag back on the dresser and make your way over to him, dropping down to your knees in front of him.

“Talk to me, Seresin.”

It takes a second, but his eyes flash up to meet your own. He settles his hands on his knees and takes a long breath.

“Thank you, for all of that today.”

You offer him the slightest quirk of your lips.

“I told you; I keep my promises.”

“Yeah,” he breathes out, “But you didn’t originally agree to a repeat show.”

Your hand pushes at his leg, trying to ease him out of his tense shell, “Come on, missions change all the time. The rules of engagement stay the same, but sometimes a single target turns into two or more. I agreed to do this for you and I’m gonna see it through.”

He tilts his head back, his throat bobbing as he gulps with the slightest hitch in his voice, “I know.”

“Then will you let the fact that we absolutely rocked it out of the fucking park today sink in for a moment?”

It was true. Patty had almost hugged you at the end - the closest form of real affection that she seemed willing to give. Had eagerly complimented Jake on how wonderful, accomplished, and pretty his girlfriend was. She had even pressed about seeing you again next year, with him wrapping his arm around your waist and smiling wide with a teasing, well, we’ll see about that, Momma.

There was no chance in hell Jake would get another leave over the Christmas holiday again. Even less likely was the chance of the two of you traveling down to Austin to perform this stunt ever again. The fact of the matter was, the two of you were going to “break up” sometime in the next few weeks. And maybe then, she would lay off the relationship talk for a little while longer.

That or Jake just had to stop replying to her emails.

“Admit it,” you grab his knee and gently rock his leg back and forth, “We make a hell of a team, Seresin.”

“Aww,” he coos, “You say that to all the boys, Pits.”

“Fuck off, Hangman,” you chuckle, rising to your feet and making your way over to your bed. Happy to find that the tone between you had remained unchanged by the day.

He finally relents, kicking off his shoes and placing them over by the closet once again, before he reclines back on his bed. You’re already snuggled under the covers when he flicks off the beside light - though the TV is still on mute in the background. The brightness of the screen casts his face in obscure shadows as he rolls onto his side to face you.

Propping your head up on your hand, you begin, “Okay, play it out for me, Bagman.”

You can make out the faintest shimmer of a smirk on his lips as he starts, “So, we’re looking at a full house tomorrow. There’s gonna be my brothers, Josh and Justin - ”

By the time he’s fully exhausted himself of the makeshift, seat-of-his-pants plan, you’re struggling to keep your own eyes open. With your eyelids growing heavier as you try to focus on his garbled words.

And then he stops.

“You still with me, honey?” he teases softly.

“Barely,” you mumble, face pressed into the pillow.

He sighs, and then the light disappears from the room as he turns off the TV. You can hear the faint groaning of the air conditioner coming back on.

“Get your sleep, Pita. You’re gonna need it.”

You smile, already feeling the pleasant tug of unconscious oblivion as you stretch your legs out, “You too, Bagman.”

His warm, throaty chuckle is the last thing you hear as you finally slip under

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#jake hangman seresin x reader #jake seresin x reader #hangman x reader #top gun fan fic #series: home for the holidays #my fic

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crescenthoax · 4 months

Text

a nightmare before Christmas • pt2

🎄or an Annika, Floris, Willa and Targtowers Christmas tale🌟

Part One

Part two

Part three

Summary: Aemond, Daeron, Aegon and Helaena had different things planned for Christmas, but one same fate: their father’s old cabin.

Basically an i’m never gonna love again christmas modern AU because we need to spread some joy on these times and I wanted to write something fun. Mainly centred around Aegon x Female OC.

Part 2/3. Part 3.

🧣⋆.ೃ࿔*:･⍣ ೋ *ੈ🎄‧₊˚ . *ੈ✩‧₊˚ ೃ࿐🌟

“I can't believe you convinced me to do this,” says Aegon, shaking his head. “I don't need no game nor excuse to get wasted.”

“Oh, come on. We’re all going to play,” Helaena tells him, amused. “Even Aemond.”

It translates easily to: ‘You can't be more boring than him.’

It’s not that Aemond is the boring type, in fact, he's just so reserved and responsible that he's gotten used to having fun in other ways. But everyone has seen him drink whiskey as easily as soda and smile as if he had two hooks on his face and scarlet–flushed cheeks while dancing during Annika's New Year's party on the yacht in 2019.

Everyone sits in a circle around the coffee table in the huge living room. Logan stirs some logs in the fireplace, trying to revive the flames before sitting down between Helaena and Annika on the couch. Aegon is sprawled on one of the individual and comfy, green velveteen chairs, just like Aemond on the other, and Floris sits with Willa and Daeron on the other couch.

“So, does everyone know how this works?” Annika asks, finishing pouring herself a glass of white wine. On the table, there is an exaggerated amount of drinks to choose from. “Someone says something, and if you've done it, you drink. If you haven't, you don't. It's simple.”

“Never have I ever explained a game we all know just to seem smart,” Aegon laughs. “And now you drink.”

She sighs and takes a sip of wine after flipping him off. So much for the ‘truce.’

“Logan, why don't you start? That way, we can get to know you better,” Annika insists.

He feels a bit pressured with the number of new and curious looks around him, but he seems to handle it wonderfully. “Hmm. Never have I ever... been to a party I wasn't invited to.”

“Easy!” Aegon singsongs and drinks from his beer. Daeron, Logan himself, Annika, and Helaena follow suit. Surprisingly to everyone, Floris also drinks, drawing attention. “Are you kidding me?”

“Why do you sound surprised?” She shakes her head, pretending to be offended. “Never have I ever gone skinny dipping.”

“I love the new Floris,” Aegon mocks, drinking. “Singleness agrees with you.”

Everyone drinks this time, except for Annika and Daeron, and she gets some skeptical looks. She puts her feet up on the couch to get more comfortable, her black ballet flats shining even brighter than the Christmas tree. “What? I find it unhygienic.”

“Never have I ever creeped an ex on social media,” Willa dares to say this time. Helaena and she are the only ones who don't drink, and Floris joins them while she shifts uncomfortably, seeing that Aemond does drink.

Aegon sees the opportunity to create a tense moment and seizes it. “Never have I ever lost my virginity to someone in this group.”

“Are you serious?” Helaena sighs.

“Very.”

The only ones who drink are the broken–up couple and the one that sticks together like peaches and cream. Willa takes a long gulp of her fruit cocktail, probably trying to shake off the embarrassment. She has not yet understood that no one really cares.

“Never have I ever had a crush on my siblings’s friends or on my friends's siblings,” Aemond says, accusingly looking at Aegon.

“All hail Cassandra Baratheon,” Annika murmurs before drinking. Daeron and Logan follow her, and so does Aegon, without any problem. Helaena turns her head trying to make sense of the situation, but Annika quickly adds, “Never have I ever been with someone of the same sex.”

She drinks. It doesn't surprise anyone that Aegon also drinks. It surprises everyone that Floris does.

“What!?” Helaena demands, laughing. “When!?”

“Never have I ever had a threesome,” Aemond basically answers for her. Annika chokes on the water she's drinking, and Aegon bursts into laughter when he sees the ex-couple drink, along with Logan and himself.

“Well, I don't have to know everything,” Daeron complains, wrinkling his nose in disgust. He usually is the one who always lags behind when it comes to knowledge about his brothers's lives, and to be honest, sometimes he feels it's better that way.

“Never have I ever broken the law,” Willa says. It's not surprising that everyone drinks this time, except her and Logan. Rich people thing, apparently.

“Never have I ever gotten a piercing,” Logan offers.

Helaena is the only one who drinks, her navel and ears heavily jewelled. And then, Aegon looks at Annika and shakes his head.

“I can't believe it. After all this time, and you still are a fucking cheater,” he addresses her.

“Excuse me?” She chuckles, feigning ignorance.

“You just lied.”

“But she has no piercings,” Floris defends her. Annika tightens the glass in her right hand and shifts uncomfortably on the couch.

“She has her right nipple pierced!” Aegon growls.

“Aegon!” Annika shouts, annoyed. “That's not something yours to share.”

“God, you always do the same thing and cheat on this stupid game. Why did you want to play if you're not going to expose yourself?”

“I don’t need them to know what I have pierced and what I don't. It's not about that,” she grumbles, crossing her arms.

Daeron furrows his brow. “How do you know she has a nipple piercing?”

“And when did you pierce your nipple?” Helaena asks, confused.

Annika bites her lip for a moment, suddenly too aware of the piercing that now seems to be warming up, the sensitive, raw skin against her bra. She was supposed to get both nipples pierced, but she couldn't bear the pain, at least not sober. She would come back someday for the next one, of course.

Aegon had taken her to get it done when she visited him in San Francisco last spring. The last time they saw each other. He promised her it would feel good afterwards. It's not something she has experienced yet.

He notices what the memory does to her. Annika moves again, too uncomfortable under his accusing gaze.

“I saw her naked this afternoon. I found her in the shower when we arrived. It was accidental,” Aegon explains casually. Annika's cheeks flush, yet she's grateful that Aegon thought so quickly to cover his tracks.

Now, that’s kind of a lie.

He had seen her naked since Annika's 20th birthday. She spent some time at the Targaryens’s house in London during lockdown, and there came a moment when they were so bored that one night, after swimming and drinking by the indoor pool, she came out dripping from a dive and went into the changing rooms to dry off. He followed her and didn't say anything; he was so bored that he held her against the wall and ate her out until she cried. He always had a thing for her and knew she was as bored and lonely. That night, she sneaked into his room, and he fucked her until she begged him to stop. Earlier, she had told him not to stop when she asked, so they fucked until he passed, and she had trouble walking the next day.

She had never felt such connection with someone before. They got along so well inside the bedroom that it was almost addictive. When they were alone, they got along even better than they did when they were with the others. And it made sense. It made all the sense in the world for them, but not necessarily for the world.

So when they wanted to have fun, without explanations, they flew to see each other. Or they met in places where they couldn't be found, like the time he fingered her at the Eiffel Tower on a random Thursday night in March.

And no one ever suspected. Until...

“I can't believe you said that,” Annika clicks her tongue. “Okay, if that's how you want to play. Never have I ever used Aemond's toothbrush.”

“You did what?” Aemond grumbles, turning to his brother with unease. “Dude. What the actual fuck?”

“Well, thank you very much, you witch,” Aegon rolls his eyes and takes a sip of his beer. Then he smiles at the blonde sitting across from him and extends his can to her. “Never have I ever used Annika's toothbrush," he says, finishing the can with pride.

“God, you're such a pig!”

“Now I understand why Aegon's room is always a suite,” Daeron mocks, putting an arm around Willa's shoulders and leaning back on the sofa, pulling his girlfriend towards him. “You never used my toothbrush, right?”

“I once used dad's toothbrush to brush Sunfyre's teeth,” Helaena adds, tipsy as she could be. Everyone looks at her strangely, and they burst into laughter instantly. “I was really mad at him.”

“Why?” Willa laughs.

“I really don't remember. It must have been important for me to decide to brush Aegon's dog's teeth with his toothbrush,” she shrugs. Logan looks at her amused and shakes his head.

“It's such a Helaena thing to do,” Floris adds. “Remember the time Annika released Helaena’s spiders in the classroom and told Cressida they were poisonous?”

“Why would you do that?” Willa asks.

“Because I hated that bitch,” she replies simply. “She was sort of like my nemesis. She hated me too.”

“I fucked with her,” Aegon adds, “in her cabin when we went to that horrible camp with our school, during lunchtime.”

Floris grimaces in disgust. “But she was in our cabin.”

“I know. She insisted on doing it on Annika's bed,” he laughs, and her jaw drops. “She got back at you; you have to give her that.”

“And you participated in that?!” She screams. “Aegon, I can't believe you!”

“Oh, don't be so pristine. It was over the sheets. And hey, we could have put your toothbrush in the toilet of public bathrooms, but we didn't,” he replies.

“Okay. Never have I ever done it in someone else's bed,” Logan intervenes, somewhat familiar with the dynamics of distracting Annika and Aegon from tearing each other apart like wild dogs.

Everyone drinks, except Annika. “As I said, it's unhygienic.”

“What do you not find unhygienic?” Daeron teases her. “Okay, I want to know this, and I think it's the moment. Never have I ever been with a teacher.”

“You're still on that? I already told you I didn’t!” Aegon leans in to push his younger brother's arm playfully.

“You were sober when I asked you! I thought you were lying for my sake,” Daeron defends himself, laughter vibrating through the walls. “I had heard the rumours.”

And everyone's laughter accompanies his, except Aemond and Floris, who remain in a creeping silence, looking at each other.

“I mean, it's something he would do,” Helaena shrugs.

“No, I had heard that...-“ He stops speaking, the smile on his face turning from confusion to more confusion than grace when he looks at Aemond in deafening silence, just like Floris by his side. When everyone notices it, the atmosphere seems to dissipate. “I had heard that... Hum, one of my brothers... That...”

Helaena and Annika look at each other. Then Annika looks at Aegon, who keeps his mouth in an ‘O’ shape and remains motionless, trying not to add more fuel to the fire.

“C’mon,” Floris speaks for the first time. She and Aemond exchange glances, and the coffee table is not the only thing separating them because it feels like there are miles between them. Floris's voice is cold, just like her eyes. Annika knows her well enough to know that she's drunk. “Rules are rules. If you've done it, you drink.”

“I don't understand,” Logan murmurs, a bit lost.

“No? Well, let me try again. Never have I ever found my boyfriend fucking one of our high school teachers in my own bed, only to find out they had been screwing behind my back since we were in high school.”

Floris finishes her glass of red wine in three long gulps. Helaena stays silent, her hand resting on her mouth to hide the surprise. Logan and Willa shrink in their places, while Daeron scratches his head uncomfortably, and Annika bites her inside cheek.

Aegon takes a small sip of his drink with a loud noise. “Aemond… This is fucked up. Really, really bad. The kind of thing I would do.”

Floris leaves the empty glass on the table with so much accidental force that it breaks. Helaena startles, and Floris stands up, swaying. “This has been fun. Have a good time.”

She walks away without even looking back at Aemond, leaving everyone too bewildered to react quickly. He sighs, leaves his drink on the table, and tries to stand up.

“Floris, wait...”

“Haven't you done enough?” Annika spits venom, getting up and pushing him back into his seat. No one understands if Aemond doesn't resist her push or if she really used brute strength. Through gritted teeth, she points at him with her index finger. “No. Don’t you even dare.”

It's she who takes light steps and disappears upstairs, following Floris. Aemond shifts uncomfortably.

“I wouldn't do it if I were you,” Aegon warns.

“Man. What the hell?” Daeron sighs, running his hands over his face. “How long has this been going on?”

"I don't know. It happened a couple of times in our graduation year, and then we met each other last year, and... I don't know. It's been...”

“Aemond, right now, no one has a worse opinion of you than I do,” Helaena tells him, placing a hand over her heart. “Who did you screw?”

He puts his hand on the bridge of his nose. “Mrs. Rivers.”

“The health teacher? Seriously?” Aegon jokes.

“And you didn't think, I don't know, to break up with your long term girlfriend before doing it? Or after?” Logan intervenes. Aemond looks at him seriously.

“Who the hell do you think you are?”

“Hey,” Helaena tells him. “He's a friend.”

“He's not my friend,” Aemond hisses. “He's just a stranger who came to our door like a lost puppy.”

Aemond stands up and disappears, not up the stairs but towards the dining room, and Aegon is almost sure he hears him heading to the yard. Surely to smoke a cigarette secretly from all of them because God forbid he lets his friends and family know that he also feels and makes mistakes and drinks and smokes and is not the perfect child everyone thinks.

“Hm, Willa, do you want to eat something? Would you help me clean this up?” Helaena offers to the girl who looks terribly uncomfortable. At the same time, she signals Aegon to check on Aemond.

Aegon shakes his head, and Helaena stiffens her face. She has a look that's too demanding sometimes that reminds him of his mother's, and it gives him chills. It makes him get up from the couch and hit Daeron's shoulder to follow him to the yard.

He obeys, a bit confused. “Where are we going?”

“To see if Aemond is okay.”

“Of course he's okay. He's Aemond. And if we had to be checking if someone is okay, it should be Floris,” he says.

Aegon stops him in his tracks and grabs his shoulders. He looks at his brother, although he's taller than him, he still needs to learn a thing or two. He understands that the age difference between them is enough, but he also understands that Daeron is no longer a child.

“You're a man now, and that means you must learn something about this family. It's a twisted family of fucked–ups, and we screw up every day. I've messed up. Helaena has messed up. Mom and Dad specially, blah, blah. It happens, it's like it's encoded in our DNA. Aemond screws up too, and I'm sure you'll do it someday too. Not necessarily with Willa, it just will happen. And no one understands the feeling better than us,” Aegon explains. “This is what being part of this family is about. And we have an unspoken agreement; no matter what it is, we get through it. We don’t judge. Aemond is our brother, so we are not gonna judge him even though he deserves it.”

“Alright. I understand,” Daeron says and follows his older brother. As they suspected, Aemond is smoking, to the youngest’s impression. “I feel like I don't know you.”

“You don't,” Aemond mutters.

“Are you okay?” Daeron asks, resisting the urge to punch him or roll his eyes. “Why didn't you tell us what happened?”

“Yeah, like I would judge you for it,” Aegon laughs. “I hooked up with mom's pilates instructor while dating Alysanne.”

“Oh my God. I'm not like you, Aegon.”

“Realization sucks, right? It's tough. We've all been there. Fortunately for you, I'm the worst of us,” Aegon laughs. The two youngest ones remain silent, and the sound of crickets is the only thing heard for a moment. “Screw you both. You could try telling me otherwise.”

“Well...” Daeron hisses.

“Fuck you, seriously” Aegon flips them off. “Back to the important stuff. What happened with Floris?”

Aemond gets lost staring at a fixed point on the snow-covered ground, as if he's recalling all the events that led him to do what he did. But he can't. “I don't know,” he confesses sincerely. “I don't...”

“Do you love her?” Daeron asks.

“How could I not love her? She's been with me all my life. And I've been with her all her life. Since we were kids. School, my accident, high school. Birthdays, funerals, parties. She's always been there. We've always been me and her. Just like Helaena and Annika. Or Aegon and… Alcohol.”

“Oh, no. You’re making jokes now?” Daeron panics, and Aegon chuckles. “That doesn't mean you love her. It means you're used to her. And Floris doesn't deserve that. Neither do you.”

“I know she doesn't. She deserves something better,” Aemond says. “And I really care about her, and it hurts to have lost her, and it hurts to think about a life without her.”

Aegon rolls his eyes. “She'll always be there. You know, Helaena will never let go of those two girls. They've always been a pain in the ass for us and always will be. That's the fun part of being us.”

Aegon knows they would always be with them because their friendship with Helaena was not going to end. He knows Annika and Helaena would always be friends. But Aegon and Annika wouldn't always be together.

“I guess you're right.”

“Why didn't you invite me to come here with you?” Daeron asks suddenly. “I could have... I don't know. I understand you didn't want to spend Christmas at home, but I didn't think you wouldn't want to spend it with me.”

“Hey, you didn't want to spend it with us either. Otherwise, why did you come here with just your girlfriend?” Aegon questions. “We thought you'd get bored, and honestly... You are still not old enough to enter the casino or drink excessively.”

Daeron rolls his eyes. “You think I don't have a fake ID? I could have come with you.”

“And if you had come, we probably would have avoided this nightmare before Christmas situation,” Aemond says, scratching his good eye. “I don't know, I guess it’s hard for us to think you’re not longer a kid.”

“Sometimes it hurts being left out all the time, you know?”

“Welcome to being a Targaryen in the real world,” Aegon says, patting his shoulder. “You're officially invited to our Christmas getaway in 2024. And this time, it will be just the three of us.”

“No, I think I'll go home for Christmas next year,” Aemond shakes his head. “It's a pain in the ass, but not as much as being here in this situation.”

“I shouldn't have asked about the teacher thing,” Daeron laments.

“You had no idea. I didn't even know either,” Aegon sighs. “Did she tell the girls? Helaena seemed surprised. And I don't think Annika knew either.”

Aemond shrugs. “When it happened, she packed her things and didn't say a word to me. We know Floris; she's quiet, reserved, and she won't show what she doesn’t want you to find out. She wouldn't go with Helaena to tell her that her brother is a liar and a cheater, and she wouldn't tell Annika because she's also my friend. Was. Whatever.”

“I don't think she'll stop talking to you; she'll just give you a hard time. You know Annika,” Daeron reassures. “By the way, is it true about the piercing?”

Aegon smirks. “It's true.”

“Did you see it?” Daeron asks, with a grin.

Aemond smacks him on the back of the head. “Have some respect.”

“Oh, I saw it,” and other things. Daeron wants to ask what he has always wanted to ask, but he bites his tongue, remembering the situation that unfolded because of his questions. Aegon notices and appreciates it. “Well, the party is obviously over. We should eat something and go to bed. If we're lucky, the storm won't be so bad, and you can leave tomorrow.”

“Oh, yeah,” Daeron says, suddenly a bit dejected. He actually wants to stay. “Right. That sounds good.”

🧣⋆.ೃ࿔*:･⍣ ೋ *ੈ🎄‧₊˚ . *ੈ✩‧₊˚ ೃ࿐🌟

Annika and Floris made no appearance while the rest had dinner watching a horror movie. The girl went downstairs for some food for Floris and then apologized to Willa and Logan for their absence, going back upstairs with her friend immediately.

Aegon drank more beer with dinner, and as soon as they finished eating, Aemond tried to wash some dishes, then went to his room alone without saying a word. Daeron had looked at Logan and Helaena, who were talking and laughing as if nothing had happened, with a strange expression and asked, “Where do you plan on sleeping?”

Helaena pinched his cheek as if he were a little kid. “You are adorable.”

It was her kind way of telling him to fuck off.

And although Daeron invited Willa to swim in the indoor pool, she claimed she wanted to go to bed, too tired to even breathe. If he had to be honest, all the drama had exhausted him too. So, the gang was reduced to Aegon, Helaena, and Logan. Aegon couldn't stand to third wheel with her little sister and a guy who dresses like some dude out of a Netflix Christmas rom–com , so he grabbed some beers and went up to his room with plans to drink until he passed out.

It doesn't happen.

He grunts and gets out of bed, exhausted from trying to sleep. The drunkenness already is part of his natural mental state.

The only lights on the house are the Christmas tree lights tinkling at a strange pace, and besides the muffled music echoing from the pool and the occasional laughter from Helaena, the only thing that can be heard is the squeaking wind. He makes his way to the kitchen feeling utterly cold; the heating in his room was so high that the change is brutal. He's not going to bother looking for the heating controls at this hour, and the fire in the living room fireplace has almost died down.

The refrigerator light beams on Annika's figure. She's sitting on the counter, with a glass of water, a pack of cigarettes, and staring at her dimly lit phone screen. She's wearing a black and pink satin pyjama set, tank top and shorts, and a somewhat warm robe, but she looks frozen. Her hair is wet.

“Late-night swim?” Aegon asks, startling her. “That brings back memories.”

Annika clicks her tongue. “No, I had to shower. Needed to get Floris's vomit off me.”

“Yikes,” he sticks out his tongue. “How's she doing?”

“Well... She... It's going to be tough.”

"You didn't know about…?”

She shakes her head, putting her phone aside. “No. She came to our flat one day with suitcases and teary eyes, and there was no need for her to say anything. We assumed that, well, she would tell us in her own time. She just said they wouldn't be coming back together, not like other times, and we figured it must be serious because she flew from Boston to New York,” she explains. “Did you know?”

“No, of course not,” he shakes his head. “Hey, don't give Aemond a hard time.”

“I couldn't care less about Aemond.”

“Did she fall asleep?”

“Passed out from crying too much, rather. I can't believe he did this to her. I mean... Ugh. It's something we might have expected from you, certainly not from him.”

“Oh, well,” he shrugs as he takes a seat on the bureau next to her. “I know my limitations, believe it or not. For starters, I would never be in such a closed relationship for so many years. They were in a cage, both of them.”

Annika rolls her eyes. “Can you believe they had a threesome?”

“I know, right?” Aegon laughs, and she joins in. “The kind of stuff I'd expect from you. Trying to revive a relationship that's clearly dead by adding a third party.”

She laughs. “Sounds like something I would do. You know how much I tend to cling to things even when the odds aren't in my favour.”

Aegon sighs. “So...”

“So...?”

“Can I see it?” Aegon suddenly asks, and Annika looks at him confused. “Your piercing.”

“I thought you said you saw it in the shower,” she says, placing the glass of water on the marble table. It makes a noise that feels louder than it actually is, and she squirms uncomfortably at the thought that someone might have heard it and finds them there, alone, together.

For someone who claims to be a loner, Aegon has a constant need for attention and contact, especially if it's from Annika. It's nothing new; he used to pull her braids when they were kids to attract her attention. Now he begs her to let him see her boobs. Normal.

He smiles. “I didn't. Everything was full of steam and foggy.”

“But you saw it. You were there when I got it done,” Annika reminds him, embarrassed. “You gave me the little piece of chocolate when my blood pressure dropped. You put a can of Coke on the back of my neck and helped me button my blouse.”

“First of all, it was Dr. Pepper. And second, it doesn't count because I didn't see it properly. And you left before we could do anything...” He shrugs. Annika squints her eyes. “I want to see it. Please.”

“You exposed me in front of everyone and almost got us caught. Why would I show it to you?”

“Because you're good at giving me what I want,” he says, devilishly smiling as he leans toward her.

“And what about what I want, huh? Not everyone can have what they want. I want a unicorn, for example.”

“I'll buy you a horse and pay to have a surgical pink horn put on it. Damn, I'd pay to have wings attached and teach it to fly if you want a freaking rainbow pegasus,” he roars, his voice deep.

Annika laughs and lowers the strap of her satin pajamas so Aegon can see. Not sure why she does it, but Annika loves to give him what he begs for. He doesn't ask for permission to stroke the side of her breast with his thumb, right at the curve. He moves her wet hair back and sighs as he feels the goosebumps on her skin.

“I like it. Although sometimes I catch it with the towel, and it's a little annoying,” she tries to ignore the fact that he's touching her after months and that when he touches her, her skin turns scarlet, just like everything around her. She looks up to find his gaze. “You were right, anyway.”

Annika never knew how, but it was he who had convinced her to get them because she was so sensitive in that area. Maybe she just wanted to please him, or maybe he knew that Aegon, even if he didn't admit it, knew her very well. He always knew better when it came to her.

“Have you tried it?” He asks.

“No, not really. I'm afraid it might still get infected. Besides...” She paraphrases, and Aegon lightly strokes the surface of her skin with his fingers. Another shiver runs through her, and she falls silent. “We shouldn't.”

“It's Christmas Eve. We're both alone...” He suggests, brushing the tip of his nose against hers. “I know you don't like being alone on holidays. You always have someone to warm your bed. And your options here are quite limited.”

“You're alone because you want to be alone,” Annika tells him, letting out a sigh. “I might have left, Aegon, but you let me go.”

“And you never tried hard enough either,” Aegon retorts. He pushes her swiftly, standing up and cornering her against the kitchen counter, slipping between her legs hanging from the high stool and placing his arms on the counter on either side of her body. Their breaths mix. “Please, let me do it.”

“I mourned you, Aegon,” Annika reminds him. “It hurt, what you did. How you laughed when that woman at the store mistook us for a couple. How you looked me in the eyes and said that what we had was all in my head. It was humiliating. That's why I left, because you hurt me. And after all that, you blame me for not reaching out for you? How can you say that?”

“I would have hurt you worse if you hadn't left, and you know it,” he says. He doesn't ask for permission either when he delicately strokes the tip of the jewelled nipple with care, and Annika hisses, hypersensitive as ever, melting in his hands. He smiles. “There it is. That’s my sweet girl. My favourite girl.”

She doesn't say anything and covers her mouth when he leans and catches her nipple between his teeth carefully. He knows how she likes it best, and the taste of the soft flesh mixed with the metallic aftertaste it’s exceedingly erotic. It's so intense that she has to close her legs together immediately as she feels that tingling sensation, although his body doesn't allow it. The way she feels stimulated inside and out is almost unbearable, and she unconsciously puts her hand through her shorts because she knows Aegon will spend a while playing with her before even doing anything.

When she tries to ease that discomfort, Aegon grabs her wrist and removes her hand from her shorts. She shivers when she loses contact, but he brings her fingers to his mouth to suck them clean, and Annika breathes heavily.

“Please,” she implores, grabbing him by the neck. He knows she's not asking him to fuck her exactly; she's asking for more. She tiptoes, grabs his cheeks, and tries to make him look into her eyes. “Aegon, please.”

He grunts with difficulty. He shoves his hand inside her shorts, pulls her underwear to a side and, without warning, shoves two fingers in; she's so wet that it offers no resistance.

“Isn't this enough?” He asks, moving the way he knows she likes. Annika opens her mouth and moans against his lips, and through the refrigerator light, he sees her wet eyes and a tear sliding down her cheek. “Why isn't this enough, huh?”

Why am I not enough for you? If I were, maybe we could be.

“I want...”

“No,” he hisses to silence her and prevent her from finishing that sentence. “You want to come on my fingers, that's all. You want my body. And I want yours. That's it.”

No, it's not.

She shakes her head. He doesn't stop, feeling Annika's heart beating against his own chest and how she tightens around his fingers as she struggles to stay still and not make any loud noises.

“I want you,” she tells him, quickly and muffled in a moan, against his lips when she orgasms. Aegon kisses her and swallows the pathetic declaration she utters, holding her with the other hand to feel her close before she goes away forever, but she seems to read his mind. “It's me, Aegon. Me. I'm not going to leave, and I want you. And I want everything from you.”

He wishes he could say yes to her, but he doesn't. He can't do that to Helaena, no matter how much he desires the same. He has to sort out his life first. He's not going to stop drinking. He can't see himself working in his father's company, marrying her, having children. He can't see himself disappointing her over and over when he turns out not to be what she wants.

She wasn't raised for the conventional either. She also has an intense fear of abandonment that would make her do anything for him to stay. This ends in two ways; either she leaves when she realizes she made a mistake and hates herself for letting herself be hurt by him, or she becomes an unknown version that assembles and disassembles for his entertainment.

In both scenarios, he loses her. Physically and emotionally. Two sides of the same coin.

Aemond couldn't stand a relationship of so many years and cheated on Floris. Aemond. The perfect son, Aemond. The perfect boyfriend, Aemond. The gentleman who would propose as soon as he graduated from college, buy an apartment, provide for his family, and have Alicent's first grandchildren...

“Say something,” Annika begs him, pulling him out of the thoughts that have fallen one after the other like a row of dominoes. She clings to him while with the other hand she runs it over his bare torso. He hasn't realized that he no longer feels cold. “Aegon. Anything. Anything, please.”

He can't.

“This is who I am. This is what I can offer you.”

“I'm not a child anymore. I don't want to fly to another country to see each other in secret and act like a couple for two weeks just for you to discard me like trash and go fuck someone else when you’re bored of me.”

He’s never bored of her, though. He just drinks her away. Smokes her away. Fucks her away.

And he knows it's been enough when she sobs.

He puts his hands over hers and separates her from his body. Now he feels the cold of Aspen again. If there was mistletoe above their heads, it's most likely withered. He gives her a kiss on the forehead and wipes away the tears falling down her cheeks.

“I'll leave my door open,” he warns her as he walks toward his room without looking back. But he knows it's useless; Annika won't come.

He leaves her crying in the kitchen, silently, on Christmas Eve. Because that's the kind of person he is. Annika knows. She has always known. She has seen the girls crying in the kitchen before; this time is no different. She has seen the girlfriends he brought on family trips. How he runs them dry. How he breaks their souls.

But Aegon knows that Annika is not like them. He knows that Annika means much more than anyone else. And he knows he can't. He would feel like a bird trapped in a box. He would make her miserable...

He promised to her mother he wouldn’t.

And he knows she deserves something better.

“At least admit it,” she asks him, from the other end of the kitchen when he's about to cross the door. He doesn't turn to look at her. “At least admit that it was real.”

But he leaves nonetheless.

🧣⋆.ೃ࿔*:･⍣ ೋ *ੈ🎄‧₊˚ . *ੈ✩‧₊˚ ೃ࿐🌟

Freya died when Annika was fifteen, and Aegon seventeen. She had been diagnosed with one of those strange and lethal diseases a few months earlier. Aegon couldn't remember the name, but they had told him. He still doesn't know why to this day.

Perhaps because he was the eldest. Because Alicent had pushed him out first, a measly two years before Helaena, and two measly years before Freya gave birth to her daughter. Annika only found out about her mother's illness a month before she passed away. And when it started to get ugly, her parents sent her away. She couldn't be with her when she died, couldn't say goodbye, couldn't ever come to terms with it...

And she never found out that Aegon knew all along.

Alicent had always told him that he had to take care of his younger siblings and, by extension, Annika, who seemed more like a sister to Helaena than he ever was. Annika wiped Helaena’s tears and Annika fought Helaena’s bullies and even Aemond’s at times. Freya said that Annika could take care of herself, but she wouldn't object to having Aegon around. At times, Aegon might have felt that Freya was the only person who still saw him as the golden child and not as the boy who fucked up everything he touched. Freya would entrust Aegon with her most precious possession without a second thought.

But one day, on one of those days when she was pretending to be okay for her daughter's sake, she saw Aegon drinking his third glass of the evening and shook her head. She put a hand on his shoulder and sighed. “I'm not going to ask you to take care of her once I’m gone; it's not your responsibility. But it would hurt me a lot if you were the one who ends up hurting her.”

Two years later, he went off to college and said he wanted nothing to do with that damn debutante ball, but he made the damn mistake of attending anyway.

The rest is a story not fit for Christmas.

🧣⋆.ೃ࿔*:･⍣ ೋ *ੈ🎄‧₊˚ . *ੈ✩‧₊˚ ೃ࿐🌟

The holidays should be a time of love and peace, and yet, in the Targaryen Aspen retreat cabin, the only festive thing is the fact the atmosphere is as bitter as the mistletoe. Helaena, Logan, and Willa, the designated cooks and the only ones who seem to know how to use the stove and microwave, are the ones preparing breakfast. Floris sits on the windowsill, watching as the snow falls heavily and sticking to the ground outside. The noise of the television and the crackling fire is all that can be heard.

Aemond and Daeron play a game of express chess after setting things on the coffee table for breakfast. Aegon watches them while smoking a cigarette inside, much to Helaena's dismay, as he has no desire to step onto the icy exterior.

Annika is the last to appear, wearing those ridiculous fur boots and a pink Chanel sweater with a Camellia logo. Her steps and the sound of the two huge suitcases being dragged down the stairs make everyone look towards the staircase, desperate for someone to break the ice. She shrinks under the attention, very uncharacteristic of her, and Aegon sees Helaena and Floris exchange worried glances.

“What are you doing?” She asks, watching them prepare pancakes for breakfast.

“Breakfast,” Willa says. “Do you want coffee?”

She shakes her head. “No, I don't want coffee. I want to leave. The night has passed. I thought everyone would be ready to leave. Usually, I'm always the last to be ready.”

“You can't leave. The roads are filled with snow that probably no one will clear until after Christmas. There was a storm last night. It's not safe,” Logan reminds her, pointing to the TV where the weatherman urges residents and visitors to stay indoors until further notice. “Even if you could cross the road, there are no flights available.”

Annika smiles and takes off the sunglasses she was wearing. “No, I'll ask my dad to send his pilot, duh. I'm not taking any commercial flights. I wanted to ski for Christmas, and that's what I'm going to do. I'm going to the nearest place with snow and a sauna.”

Daeron and Aemond look at each other, aware that the unpleasant part of Annika is speaking. Something is wrong.

“Well, I don't want to leave. We're here already, we can make it worthwhile,” Hel tells her. Annika rolls her eyes.

“Fine, you stay. Floris?”

She opens her mouth and sighs. “It's not that I want to stay, but flying in these conditions... I don't know. It's only two more days. Maybe even tomorrow we can leave. I'm not going to risk it.”

“Great. I guess it's just me,” Annika grumbles, grabbing her suitcases. “Well, have fun, I suppose. Au revoir. Arrivederci. Goodbye. Chau.”

“I'll go,” Floris says, resigned, and walks behind her. Daeron does the same, and Aegon follows them out of pure curiosity. “Annika, you can't leave!”

“She's right, it's not safe!” Daeron shouts from the door. She has started to drag her suitcases down the stairs with difficulty, the stupid boots slipping on the ice. The car is covered in snow, and it will take her a while to clear it, not to mention that the snow keeps falling.

“Watch me!” She says, reaching the bottom of the stairs with the first suitcase. She holds onto the railing and makes the ascent again, slipping several times. Then she grabs the other suitcase.

“At least let me help you,” Daeron offers. He shakes off the cold and takes Annika's suitcase. She struggles for a moment, insisting she can do it, but he prevails and lifts it.

“Be careful,” Floris says, putting a hand to her mouth. “Annika, would you call when...?”

“Fuck!” Annika yells when she slips down the stairs. Aegon sees her lose balance and fall to her ass, hitting herself several times before reaching the stone path.

If he weren't concerned because he heard her hit her head against a step, he definitely would have burst into laughter. Floris also screams, shocked, and Daeron drops the suitcase in the snow to rush to help her.

“Annika!”

“Daeron, don't throw my suitcase in the damn snow!” She reproaches him, holding her head with one hand.

“Yeah, she’s okay,” Aegon deduces, descending the porch steps carefully. Annika doesn't even acknowledge his existence.

“What happened?” Helaena asks, coming out with the rest through the front door. “Oh, God. Are you alright?”

“I'm fine. I tripped,” she admits, defeated. Daeron and Floris take one of each arm and help her to her feet. When she stands and puts her weight on her feet, she begins to whimper in pain and holds onto both. “Ouch, ouch!”

“What's happening?” Daeron asks.

“My ankle!” She complains. “It hurts, hurts! Oh, God. What if it’s broken? What if I can't walk ever again?”

“Calm down. I don't think it's broken; if it were, you'd be crying,” Logan tells her, quickly descending the stairs. He replaces Floris' grip on one side of her body. “Can you put weight on it?”

“No, it hurts like a son of a bitch. Shit,” Annika moans, and Logan lifts her into his arms to take her back into the house. “Daeron! Bring my suitcases!”

He sighs but obeys. The last thing he wants is to bother her more than she already seems. Everyone enters behind Logan, and he takes her to the living room while Floris cleans the melting snowflakes from her hair.

Logan leaves her on the couch and sits in front of her on the coffee table, resting her foot on his lap. Without asking for permission, he tries to untie the boot, but he doesn't understand much about its operation. He tries to remove it with pressure, but she screams and writhes in pain.

“No, no! Don't do that!” She scolds him. “Damn it. I can't believe it.”

“I don't want to say I told you so, but I told you so,” Floris says, arms crossed. “Those boots are the death of you.”

“Maybe we just need to cut the boot off,” suggests Aemond.

Annika throws a cushion at him for the brutal idea.

“Not the Moschino. No!”

“It's probably just a sprain. But either we cut it off, or I could still trying to take it off and hurt you even more,” Logan tells her.

“I would sacrifice the boot,” Helaena tries to reason. “We can get another pair. You can't get another foot; that's for sure.”

“Kill me. Kill me now,” she says, bringing a cushion to her face and screaming into it. “Fine. Cut them. Kill them. Just do it quickly. I don't want to see.”

Helaena squeezes her shoulder, standing behind the sofa where Annika has put her head on the backrest and taken the cushion to her face. Willa hands Logan a knife, who puts it through the boot and tries to cut the material with considerable difficulty while Annika whimpers. If one were to see the scene from a distance, they would probably think they were cutting off her foot.

When he removes the boot and the thermal sock, everyone analyses the extremely swollen ankle with disgust.

“Is it bad?” She asks, removing the cushion from her face but not daring to speak. Aegon puts it back on her face, wrinkling his nose, but she hits him. “Don't touch me. Logan. Is it really bad?”

“Well...”

She opens her eyes wide. “Oh, my God!”

“Hey, don't worry,” he tries to calm her, patting her knee gently when she starts to cry. “You'll be fine. Painkillers, rest, and lots of ice. Everything will be fine; you'll be walking in—“

“Give it to me,” she reaches out her arms.

“What?” Logan asks, confused.

Aemond lightly hits his arm. “She means the boot.”

“The... The boot?”

Aegon nods. “Yes, she's crying over the boot.”

“It was so beautiful!” She exclaims when Willa hands it to her, and she hugs it with distress. “It's not fair. I bought them on our trip to Milan. They were the last pair. Do you remember, Flo? Do you remember how we were walking, and I saw them in the shop window, and...?”

Logan looks around, not understanding how no one seems surprised or confused by the girl's attitude. It's Daeron who whispers in his ear, “She cries over trivial things to avoid crying about what she really has to cry about. The odds of her being incredibly sore are very high, but she won't admit it.”

“Oh, well,” he scratches his neck, uncomfortable. “Bring her some ice. Try not to put weight on your foot for a while and keep it elevated.”

“Hey, look on the bright side. At least you didn't ruin your cashmere sweater,” Helaena says cheerfully. Willa frowns, observing her pink sweater for a moment.

“I want to go home,” she protests. “Why does everything have to happen to me?”

“It'll be okay. We'll have breakfast so you don't take a painkiller on an empty stomach, and you can try to leave when the swelling goes down,” Logan reassures her, getting up from the table and walking to the kitchen. Then he turns to Floris. “Yeah, she's not going anywhere. Not today, at least.”

Floris bites her lip, a little amused, and shakes her head. “A Christmas Eve to remember,” she says, and then helps everyone set the table for breakfast.

By mid–afternoon, everyone has had a few drinks and taken a dip in the indoor pool. Floris and Aemond maintain an incredibly mature distance, astonishing Aegon as he discusses it with Willa. Daeron seems to have become very friendly with Logan.

Annika didn't want to move, and in a sour mood stayed on the couch watching some stupid Christmas movie.

“They are cute,” Willa says, referring to Helaena and Logan. Her red curls are dripping water, and she holds onto the edge of the pool while sipping a sip of a daiquiri Aegon made for her.

“Whatever,” he says, rolling his eyes.

“Don't you like someone making her laugh? Daeron always says she's a pretty lonely person and has a hard time getting along with others.”

“Aren't we all?” He chuckles. “I guess... It's always us who bring our girlfriends home. I mean, if we don't count the little friend Daeron brought home at seven years old who started crying when he showed her Aemond's snake, and his mother picked her up half an hour later, you would officially be the first girl Daeron brought. And Aemond and Floris have been together forever. And I...”

“Bring a different girl to every gathering?” Willa laughs.

“Yeah, as pathetic as that sounds,” he continues. “The point is, Helaena has never brought anyone else but Annika. She's her person. We got so used to it that now it's weird to see her with someone else. I don't think any of us realized that one day we would meet her partner.”

“It's weird. They seem to have that confidence that makes you think they've known each other forever,” she ponders. “Anyway, it's nice that they get along. She can't be with Annika all the time, I think. Eventually, they'll have to find a significant other.”

He dips his head in the pool to avoid hearing the last words and then emerges, leaning his elbows on the pool's edge, rubbing the water off his eyes.

“And that will be a great day for everyone,” he sighs ironically. Willa inspects him carefully. “What?”

“Nothing,” she shrugs. “I mean... I'm very observant.”

“Yeah, I remember. A very curious little mouse, I told Daeron.”

“When we went to your house in San Francisco, do you remember the day it got really cold, and the airline had lost my luggage?”

“Hm, vaguely.”

“You gave me a sweater to wear while Daeron and I replaced my clothes.”

“I did?”

“Yes. You told me to be careful not to ruin it,” Willa tries to make him remember. “It was a pink cashmere sweater with a Camellia. Like the one Annika's wearing.”

Aegon bites his cheek. He knew he shouldn't lend the clothes Annika had forgotten at his apartment. Man, Annika never lends her clothes. How could he be so stupid?

“Sure... It's… It was mine. We bought it on sale. You know, two for the price of one,” he says, nervously laughing. He’s more worried about Annika finding out he lend her sweater. “It's very soft, much softer than any other fabric. I like wearing it. Yes. And I love pink. I have that sweater at home, and a lot of other pink clothes. I'd show you...”

“Aegon,” she sighs amused. “I'm not going to say anything.”

“You're not going to say anything about what?” He asks, trying not to sound mortified.

“You and Annika,” she murmurs, so only he can hear.

Aegon laughs. “There's no me and Annika.”

“You knew about her piercing, and she looked too worried when you mentioned it, but not surprised. Come on. I think everyone knows; they're just waiting for you two to say it and pretending not to know,” Willa tells him.

“There's nothing to say. It was... Nothing. Just something physical. It didn't mean anything.”

“What didn't mean anything?” Daeron asks, appearing out of nowhere behind Willa and hugging her around the waist. “Is Aegon bothering you?”

“I think I'm bothering him,” she says playfully.

He climbs onto the pool's edge, coming out of the water dripping, and walks to grab a towel without saying a word. After almost completely drying himself, he goes to the living room where Annika watches the Grinch, sitting in the same position they left her, with a blanket over her lap and ice over her head.

“He looks like you,” he tells her, ignoring the fact that he left her crying in the kitchen the night before. He always does that.

“I'm not in the mood,” she says, not moving her eyes from the screen. He peeks behind her and shakes his head to wet her. “Bite me.”

“Aren’t you a delight,” he says, taking a seat next to her. “Are you in pain?”

“No,” she replies, arms crossed and clearly a bit drowsy from the painkillers, without even looking at him.

“I thought we called on a truce.”

“I think we shouldn't talk at all,” she tells him. The indifferent tone stirs something acidic in Aegon's chest, and he squirms with sadness. “Oh, sorry. Was I too harsh?”

“I don't understand why you're angry. I should be angry. You gave me the blue balls. At least you got to finish.”

She looks at him and lets out a laugh. “I can't stand you.”

“Where do you think you're going?” He asks when he sees her trying to get up.

“Far away from you,” she says, being careful not to put weight on her foot. Aegon takes her arm and throws her back on the couch. She lets out a groan and wriggles, trying to escape his grip, but he holds her by the waist and presses her to his chest. “Let me go.”

“There’s something you need to know. Willa knows about us,” he warns, putting his mouth to her ear. She shifts uncomfortably. “It's just a matter of time before everyone finds out.”

“Then you kill her to keep the secret. God forbid someone finds out you touched me, or even looked in my direction.”

“Do you think that's the problem?” He asks, his palm resting on her stomach, lips against her neck. “You think I care if anyone finds out?”

“You made it pretty clear.”

“Do you want me to make you come again in this sofa where anyone could walk in and see us?” He asks, kissing her under the ear as he moves his hand from her navel to her centre. “You might understand that’s not what I’m worrying about, then.”

Annika hits his hand off and lets go of his grip. “No. I want you to leave. I'm serious. I don't want you to talk to me, look at me, or breathe in my direction. I don't want you near.”

He smiles crookedly. “Definitely harsh.”

“Go away. I can't go up the stairs, so I'm asking you to leave.”

She leans back against the backrest and covers herself with the blanket, resting her cheek on her hand. Aegon sighs in defeat. He’s not used to being rejected by her, if she ever got complicated usually some sweet talking and his fingers worked like charm to remedy her.

“Annika...”

“I don't want to hear your pathetic excuses,” she says. “You can take your blue balls and shove them in the snow as far as I’m concerned. And if you feel lonely, you have two hands.”

He looks at his hands.

It would hurt me a lot if you hurt her.

If he stays, he'll hurt her. If he leaves, he'll hurt her.

Freya was wrong. His mother, too. He can’t take care of her.

“Can I stay here and watch the movie at least?” He sighs, noticeably tired. She looks at him sideways and doesn't answer, but gives him a piece of her blanket. He settles a bit closer to her and curls up in his place, feeling a bit cold. “Do you want something to drink?”

“I want you to shut up.”

He nods. “Okay. Deal. I'll shut up.”

But he can't. He glances at her certain times, focused on the movie and looking as unhappy as ever. He clicks his tongue.

“You know...”

“No. I don't want to know.”

“Fine,” he nods again. Moves his leg frantically and manages to keep quiet for two full minutes. “But, if you think about it...”

Annika puts the TV on mute and turns to look at him. He stays silent when those green eyes haunt him. “It was real. It wasn't a waste of time. I wasn't just another one of your girls. It was different. It always has been. You were there, and it was real.”

“Of course, it wasn't a waste of time,” he starts saying. Freya's voice drills into his head. It would hurt me a lot if you hurt her. “And it was real.”

“And why don't you admit it?”

“What do you want me to admit?” He sighs, tired, and rests his cheek on the back of the sofa. Silver hair wets the green fabric, but he doesn't care.

“That you want me.”

“I can show you how hard I am so that –“

“That you love me,” she corrects.

He tries to escape, almost panicked, but she takes his cheeks and forces him to look at her. Her eyes are hypnotic. Her cheeks. Her skin. Her hair. The nose and eyelids reddened from crying so much because of him.

Of course, he does.

She's so close that their lips almost touch. He has leaned over her, because he does love her. Because she's right. And she no longer wants to run away... But he can't say it. However, he finds another way to be honest.

“I knew when your mother got sick,” he says, delicate as if confessing a sin. “I always knew. And she told me I shouldn't take care of you because you could take care of yourself, but that the idea of me hurting you would sadden her. I can’t do that to her.”

She leans back even though he tries to kiss her. She moves back so much that it cuts through his chest.

“What?” She gasps, not understanding. “What... What are you talking about? What does that even mean?”

And there's more. And there's so much you don't know. Because I've loved you since we were kids. Because I've taken care of you since we were kids. You don't have the right to treat me like a villain. I've always taken care of you. This time is no different.

“Aegon,” she calls him, in a sob. But he doesn't react, so she hits him in the chest. “Are you fucking kidding me? Why would you say something like that? Why would you even –“

“Because it's the truth. You wanted to know the truth. There it is,” he says. “We can't be together, Annika. I've learned to live with that, and you should too.”

🧣⋆.ೃ࿔*:･⍣ ೋ *ੈ🎄‧₊˚ . *ੈ✩‧₊˚ ೃ࿐🌟

Floris pours herself a glass of water while Aemond looks at her with a dangerously careful gaze. He has always been tough, since they were kids, and it worsened after the incident with his eye. The sapphire only makes him appear tougher, ruthless, even.

But Floris cannot see anything other than his good side. His heart. The way he cares about his family, even Annika, with whom he always had a somewhat distant relationship. He cares.

That's why it was strange when she found him with their professor. It wasn't strange to have packed her things and taken the next flight to move from one state to another in less than six hours though.

He didn't object.

It's the first time they see each other, and there's a lot to say. He sent her things, and everyone moved on. She doesn't know what happened to the apartment or that damn snake of his that wouldn't let her have a puppy because it might eat it.

“Floris,” he finally calls her. She can't look at him. She can't see the person who cares and matters to her, who would never have hurt her. It's a different person standing beside her. “Please, look at me. We need to talk.”

She shakes her head. “We don't need to talk.”

“We need to clear things up.”

She smiles ironically. “What do you want to clarify? You slept with a teacher multiple times over these past few years and brought her to my house, to my bed. Do you have a valid reason? Other than the fact that you obviously no longer love me?”

Aemond weighs it for a moment. And then nods.

“I do love you.”

She laughs. “Sure.”

“You're my best friend. The best I've ever had in my life.”

“And then? Why did you do this to me?” She asks. There's no anger in her tone, as if the anger had dissipated after the exhaustive conversation with Annika, who she covered in snot and vomit. It's curiosity, no more, no less. It's intrigue.

“It has nothing to do with you.”

“I know I have my issues, but I firmly believe I've never done anything to hurt you. Not intentionally at least. I haven't been a bad girlfriend or a bad friend either. So, I ask you again, if you love me, why did you do this to me?”

“Because I love you,” he nods. “It's easy for me to love you, Flo. It's warm, and you feel like home to me. But I'm not a kid anymore, and neither are you. Adults have to leave their homes to create their own paths.”

Her eyes fill with tears. “I thought we were happy.”

“We were. I am. And I really don't want to lose you... But I cannot keep doing this,” he sighs, and gently takes her hand. “I'm sorry. It was stupid. And I don't think you can forgive me, but...”

“You're right, I can't,” she tells him, sniffing. “You should have told me what you felt when you felt it. You shouldn’t have let me waste all this past years. We could have found a solution; we did when, you know… Or we could have... –“

“Flo, there was nothing else to do. We tried everything,” Aemond tells her, a bit firmer now. “You don't love me in that way either. I know you, and I'm sorry. I've felt this distance between us for a while. You're not happy in Boston. You're happier with Annika and Helaena in New York. You would be happier if you had a dog instead of a snake. You would be happy if you explored a bit of who you are and what you want to be besides me.”

She sobs. “How am I supposed to go on after this?”

Aemond knows she might not, but maybe, after all, it's the only way for her to understand that between them, there's nothing but the love they've outgrown. Childish, puppy love.

“I'm sorry. It was stupid. And I'm not even seeing her. I guess I needed a getaway car, and that's the one I found... I guess you'll have to be the better person here and forgive me. It will take time, but I hope you know that I really mean it when I say I regret what I did to yoy.”

Floris clicks her tongue and rubs her face with her hands. “Well, you never apologized for anything. So I guess you are saying the truth. But it only makes me feel worse because this means you screwed up big time and you’re aware of it.”

He lets out a little laugh and leans in to kiss her on the forehead. “You taught me a lot. More than anyone else in my life. You gave me everything you could, and it's time for both of us to move on with what we taught to each other. When you're ready, when you're at peace... I hope I can be your friend again. Because I can't bear the thought of you not being in my life anymore.”

She understands what he means. Not in a romantic way, but they know each other too well. No one will ever know him so much, and vice versa. No one will ever live what they lived together.

“I’m always gonna love you,” she confesses. Again, not in a romantic way, but there's no need to clarify that.

Aemond tucks a strand of hair behind her ear. “I’m always gonna love you, too.”

“I need time. A lot. When I go back to New York, I'm going to transfer a university there. I fell behind a bit, but I'll catch up. I'll go to therapy, and I'll learn to forgive you. But I don't want to see you for a while.”

It hurts him almost as much as the pain that sometimes paralyzes half of his face.

But he knows he deserves it.

“You'll be fine,” he tells her. “You were always… Resilient. More so than me.”

“I know,” Flo smiles. “I’ll be fine. I got my girls with me.”

#aegon ii targaryen #fanfic #hotd #christmas au #aemond targaryen #aegon ii fanfic #aemond x fem!reader #team green #aegon targaryen fanfic #Aegon Targaryen smut #im never gonna love again #hotd modern au #daeron targaryen #daeron the daring #helaena targaryen #asoiaf #got #aegon x oc #annika lannister

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