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dietmountaindewbae · 6 months

Text

xix. start to melt

alex turner x reader

word count: 7069

summary: A conflict arrived at the christmas dinner, feelings were served for dessert and a bitter taste of the past had to be swallowed down to prevent any heartaches, it's hard to see him (2014 Alex!) but even harder to resist him, now that he's there with his new girl, would it be easier to pretend that he was just some lover?

warnings: sp*t, ch*cking, hitt*ng, degr*ding

song recommendation: start to melt by peter bjorn

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New York became a crazy town when December wooshed into the air, the stores had become empty shelves, restaurants were packed with people, and on every corner, a Santa was ringing his bell and singing. This year's Christmas was just like the others, just with some tiny changes you ignored.

You ran alongside your boyfriend into the building where your friend would host a Christmas dinner, packed with a big pot you wait for the elevator to take you up to the apartment, "James, help me with the pot, it's too heavy on me" Jack, your boyfriend that sometimes could be such an ass when he was annoyed, eyed you up and down, you were visibly struggling with the red heavy ceramic pot, and on his arms, he was holding the presents for everyone, yes they were a few but not so heavy.

"Honey, I can't just drop the boxes and grab the pot, you know how long it took you to wrap them up..."

"Maybe I wouldn't have if you had helped me-" He interrupts you by kissing your nose.

"Calm down.... we're almost there," He says to you, "And it's not even that heavy for you" Before you could blast off on him the bell dings and the doors open.

"Hi!" Your best friend's boyfriend Nick says, "Oops! That looks heavy, let me help you... oh smells nice" You look from the corner of your eye to Jack and he easily ignores what Nick said. You went running to Giselle in the kitchen, you were stoked to see her and she hugged you tightly, her arms wrapped around your shoulders to push you closer and whisper in your ear.

"Don't freak out, but he is here.... and he brought the girl with the red hair, and white dress comin' at ya" Your heart shrinks when you see her walking in slowly to the kitchen with a big merengue pie, a bright and sweet smile on her lips, you didn't know what to even say to her, her presence makes you feel uneasy.

"Nice to see you, I'm Ariel" You hug her like protocol and introduce yourself with the most fake smile, then from the back came in who you were expecting the least out of all, he hugs her close with his arm around her waist, he came inside wearing the same leather jacket you used to borrow, a stripped red, gold and silver shirt you used to wear around his bedroom, stiff vintage jeans and boots, he takes a look at you, from head to toes, slowly, taking a deep breath in, you wore a long sleeve black short dress with a chunky belt around your hips, and knee high boots his face showing nothing and everything at the same time while you stood confused and angry all at once "This is-"

"They already know me..." He said in a cocky and cold tone, you held your breath, you didn't know how to feel about his presence, or why had he even had the nerve to be here after counting ties with his for so long, you had stripped out of any feeling about him, you set a goal to treat him as a ghost and just focus on Jack.

Giselle sensed the tension, and knew what she had to do immediately, "Ariel, would you be so nice and help me set the table?" She added some needed social pressure to her, no one knew her, and she seemed like the type to love being loved, she grabbed Alex's hand pulling him to go with her but he released his hand and signed her to wait for him.

He walks two steps closer to you, breaking the meter barrier from one corner of the kitchen marble table to the other "How are you?" He asked almost whispering, you had no reply, you went to turn on the oven, and the giant pot went inside, "You've lost weight" He added as he searched for an answer from you in any sort of way.

"Is that supposed to be a compliment?" You spat back.

"We're going to play ghost, just like the ol' times aren't we?" He chuckles.

"No" That's all you said before you walked out of the kitchen, he squeezes your arm grabbing your attention.

"I'm here, and I'm real, don't act like I'm dead to you 'cause we both know that will never be the case," He said your name like a decease as he slowly let go of your arm, his intense gaze was locked on yours, "Who is that, huh? New boy toy?" He asks referring to Jack in the back as he puts order to the presents

You cross a foot in front of the other, running your tongue on your cheek, leaning against the table, speaking confidently "You have told her about me, haven't you? She walks in and somehow she's so happy to see me" You whisper to him, staring at him with a scowl when he stays silent, "That's low, and even for you Turner" You walk off, running to kiss Jack passionately by the christmas three, you didn't doubt that Alex had seen it. He had to see that you were better now, better off without him, or at least that's what you wanted things to be. You went to say hi to the rest, caressing the little face of Jamie's and Katie's kid, hugging them tightly because despite the separation they still messaged you from time to time, especially Katie and Bree, both of them came to visit your when they had the chance, attended to the fashion shows you walked in, you stayed in touch with Jamie, and Matt sometimes took pictures of you for his Instagram, he had some sort of thing for taking pictures of people's back.

After a massive heartbreak during the release of Suck It and See, you were at the hands of time and patience, Giselle stuck with you even though she was going to join the boys during the tour, Nick had told you several times how he was doing bad too, had lost weight, looked sick until he completely changed from night to day into a lady's man and a casanova, a total heartbreaker, a million dollar man. That's around the time when other girls came into his life, and began to date again, it seemed like he had gotten over you so quickly that it broke your heart even more, he had promised you marriage, but all of that fame, you simply couldn't make him surrender that part of his life to you even though you tried several times, you never told him to quit music, you just wanted him to let you into that part of his life that was sensitive, why was he so afraid of commitment?

For almost two years you had restored yourself and moved apartments since in yours you could still hear his boots walking around the place, and the sound of his guitar in your living room, he had left a few things in there that Nick was so kind to give back to him since you couldn't even see him on a picture, and the internet was flooded with them. After a while you returned to your job, as an editor for fashion magazines and a blogger as a hobby that soon turned into more than that, you had become famous, a model, a muse for many campaigns, and quickly into an it girl. People were writing articles about you but his name was written all over them.

At a party, you met Jack, and he was a prince charming at first, he was a barely recognized photographer and his career exploded when he began to take your photos, then those other girls came around... and you started to feel left out, but he promised you that nothing ever really happened, he had other priorities in his life now, and you didn't feel like the center of his universe anymore. Were you happy? That's a question that you ask yourself daily, and leaving Jack was always something that bothered you to think about. When you tried, you surrendered to him and felt guilty even to try to break up with someone who could do what Alex couldn't, and that was to get engaged with you, you weren't strong enough to break the engagement, you thought no one else would do it, just Jack. He asked you in the same place he had met you, in front of thousands of people, what else could you say but yes? You convinced yourself that was the right thing to do.

Time later his name echoed in the dark and appeared at 3 in the morning like a phantom, his name written all over your emails, and texts, you only once replayed, he visibly was struggling with alcohol and sometimes drugs, Nick had told you everything about it and had told him several times to leave you alone until he eventually did, but that peace only lasted for a few months and then, AM dropped like a bomb all over the world, you tried your best to fight thru the sound waves all over the news, radio, blogs, newspaper, magazines, his face was all over yours once more, rumors about his new girlfriend Ariel like his muse for AM. You were far away from Alex by living in New York while he lived in sunny Los Angeles and that kept you at peace, you thought someday the album and his name would die out, but it never did, not even to the day.

Now there you were, in front of him feeling like an orphan, filled with sadness with a cozy coat of rage, you all sat down to eat, Alex had chosen to sit in front of you, what was the reason for that? You were far to know, Giselle and Nick were well aware of it.

"Would you excuse us for a minute?" Giselle stood up and grabbed your hand, you whispered a sorry and she took you out to the balcony, and you grabbed your cigarettes and fur coat.

Once she closed the door, you put your hand on your head and lit up a cigarette that you craved more than the food itself, "Care to explain to me what the fuck is he doing here?"

"Woah! Don't get mad at me I didn't know he was coming either," She said, "He just tagged along with Jamie and Matt, he carried so many gifts for everyone, how could I say no to that? How could I say no in front of Jamie's kid?" She snatched a cigarette from your box, and you leaned over at the balcony and stared into the yellow lines of cabs and cars.

"Sorry for yelling at you like that, it's not your fault"

"No, I know it isn't, I'm sorry 'bout Ariel"

You rolled your eyes, "She's so lovely it makes me feel ill" She was a ray of sunlight and a fresh California breeze while you were the gloomy mornings and foggy air of New York. Ariel was the thing that he always needed, someone who always cheered him up, someone who enjoyed being out and about, someone who had no problem making conversation and meeting new people.

"I know..." She grunts, "She even has the name of a fucking-"

"Disney princess!" Both of you said in unison, making each other laugh hysterically, "I know!"

"You're a piece of shit" You whisper shouted to Giselle.

"Shut the fuck up or we're getting kicked out of my dinner" You both giggled to each other, hugging each other tightly, Giselle was more than your best friend, she was your sister, the type of friend you had never thought you would get, you were thankful for her. She grabbed your hand and walked you back to the table, you glanced at Katie's baby, at the diamond on her ring, how did the rest make it while Alex was still living the life, breaking hearts, dating models, hanging out, why was he like that, hell did he loved that life more than you?

Then Ariel mentioned your name dragging your attention back to her, Alex's arm was around her shoulders, looking at her looking at you, "I love all of your blogs! Have you got any words of wisdom for girls who are starting their own thing too?" God, what was that? an interview for Today?

"Let me have more wisdom juice and I'll give you some words" You elegantly finished your glass of wine while the rest laughed at your joke, you grabbed Jack's hand and kicked his foot under the table, Alex's chest raises as he takes a deep breath in, "Well, be brave and work hard, even if you think it's not paying off, it is, so just keep working on it, and choose someone that supports you thru it" You glanced at Alex, "Someone that you can trust, that makes you feel strong and loved" He squints his eyes at you, and you sit back with a smile.

She kissed Alex on the lips, cupping his cheek, Giselle was kind enough to serve you more wine and sneak a little bottle of vodka into your hands, she winked your eye at you, Alex seemed bothered by the words you chose to say, but you didn't care at this point, you saw Jacks head on his phone chatting with his stupid friends, and his hand had let go of yours, you grabbed it and his hand was holding yours loosely, and moments later he let go of it to type with both of his thumbs, you swallowed down a big lump, feeling lonelier than ever. Jack was well aware of Alex, but he felt nothing about it, he wasn't thinking about how you felt about it.

"What do you do for a living Ariel?" You poured yourself another drink.

"Oh well, I'm a content creator" You raised your eyebrows with a smirk on your face, "But I started just like you, I felt deeply inspired by the way that you started so I thought if you could do it... well, why not me?" You nodded your head slowly glancing at Alex from time to time, he was looking away or pretending to look at Ariel but he was without any doubt looking at you.

"Oh that's... amazin', isn't it?" You turned to look at him, and he smiled kissing Ariel's head.

"Yeah of course it is, we had fun makin' 'em vines things didn't we?" She smiled at him and giggled nodding with her luscious red hair.

"I'm sorry, I didn't know you guys knew each other" Said Ariel with a little fainted smile.

"Oh! no, no, no, in fact, I don't even know his name" Giselle covered up her laugh with a cough.

"When is the wedding?" Katie jumped in to change the subject visibly feeling uncomfortable by the little confrontation, "Don't think I haven't seen that bling bling on your ring ring!" You put your hand up in the air, showing off the ring that Jack gave you, all of the girls were in awe while you saw in Alex's face every emotion going past him, he couldn't believe it, he had swallowed down the most bitter pill ever. He couldn't even see Jack's face without wanting to kick him off his chair.

"Congratulations!" Ariel said, "You guys make a lovely couple"

The rest of the evening everyone kept talking about Giselle and Nick's engagement, Matt and Bree's upcoming wedding day, Forest's birthday, and his Christmas gifts, a few asked Jack about his work but he didn't say much until he put your hand on your inner thigh after a while of being on his phone he had finally turned it off.

"Don't you wanna go upstairs, baby?" He whispers to you, "I'm getting bored," He caressed your thigh getting higher and higher, you were about to go off on him until his phone buzzed, and he directed his attention to his phone, his hand sliding off of your thigh but you quickly put your hand on his, and turned his face his eyes fixated on you.

"Ok, let's go" You both excused yourself, and he went to the bathroom while you went to the kitchen to clean some plates while the rest took their things to the living room, and sneakily you joined him in the bathroom, where he hungrily waited for you, he kissed you so passionately it almost made you feel like you were right at the beginning of your relationship, he was fast and giddy, sliding his hand in between your legs while his hand grabs on your ass tightly, he slides down your panties, putting his fingers inside you harshly, it hurts but you try to enjoy it, "Mmm, God you're so wet" You giggled and kissed him, taking out his dick from his jeans, he flipped you, back on his chest and you leaned over the sink as he slides his dick inside you, you don't really feel anything anymore, but maybe if you moan a little, touch yourself more, you'd like it more, but his stupid phone buzzed and buzzed, someone was calling him, "Wait like that, it'll be fast" You rolled your eyes, and pulled away from him

"You take longer in your phone than what you take in fucking me" You clean a little smudge from your lipstick, fixed your hair and belt. You left him inside the bathroom and returned to the kitchen, everyone was talking and drinking by the three, Alex glanced at you, and scanned you up and down, walking discreetly towards you.

"Blew some steam off?" You sighed, and poured yourself a glass of vodka, "You don't seem like you're having fun" He pulled the little hairs off your head, rolled your eyes, and fixed your hair.

"Go fuck yourself," You said, he laughed at you and smiled.

"You go fuck yourself darlin' you look like you need it" You scoffed and walked towards him, it was on.

"Go fuck myself? Right... don't think I don't see you staring at me you perv, I see behind your cockiness and smirks, you think you're better than me? go on and tell her about me... you fucking coward, you can't ever face things, you don't have the balls to" You smiled at him, feeling wildly satisfied, this was better than an orgasm.

"You think you're so fucking awesome with your piece of shit boyfriend, who can't even last five fucking minutes with you"

"Who are you to fucking judge?" You quickly backfired, he pulled himself closer to you, squeezing your shoulder.

"Oh really? Do you think he pleases you? I know more about pleasure than any of the other dickheads you could ever fuck" You chuckled and moved your head to the sides, "Say no all you want but I know that I just need my pinky to make you come in seconds than that asshole in an hour" You looked down to his veiny and strong rough hands, you remember how you fidget at night with his death ramps ring, you bot down on your lower lip.

"But that asshole had bigger balls to commit to me, and you will never be brave enough to do that" He looks down at you, starting to feel a bit sad, and he took a step closer to you.

"Is that why you're so mad at me? Because I didn't propose to you?" He said with a serious tone.

"I don't give a shit about that, and you know it, you never wanted anyone to screw up your rockstar life because you love it more than sex, you even loved it more than me, even more than her" He gets angrier by the mentioning of the relationship you and he had, he squeezes your shoulder harder, each time he was starting to feel more sensitive, you penetrated places beneath his thick skull that always made him feel weak, "Admit it" How could he admit to something so far from the truth? There was nothing that fueled him with anger more.

"That's a lie and you know it, there were so many things behind you couldn't have understood-"

"What couldn't I understand, huh? I loved you so much I opened up to you, but you just opened up a window and called it a door, tell me what couldn't I understand Alex? Because I'm here and after this, I will make sure that you never see my face again... I'm doing you a favor" You spat, it devastated you to say these words, "I never wanted to get engaged or to have kids, but I would have loved to have your kids and to be part of your life like the closed lock on the door of our backyard, but you never gave me that chance because the only thing that you loved more than me was you and your fucking life" You walked away leaving him speechless and you ran across Jack, your stupid man child boyfriend.

"Hi baby, sorry I had to attend that call, you know it's important, right?" 'What could be more important than you and your fucking friends talking about pussy and tits?

"I know, tell me what is it" He looked at you strangely, was he playing dumb or didn't he see how bad you felt? And you dealing with him was the last thing you wanted to do.

"Look" He put his hands on your lower waist and pulled you in closer to whisper to your ear, you could already imagine what was he going to say "I know you're upset because Alex is here" You hated to even hear his name and the worst part is that he knew it, "But my friends are also making a dinner, do you wanna ditch this one and go with me?" You put your hands on his chest pulling him away slowly, "Or can I go? I swear I'll be back before midnight"

"I'm not your mom Jack if you want to go just fucking go" You walked away to sit with everyone by the tree, Jamie had pulled out his guitar while Katie held Forest on his tiny and puffy feet to dance and wave his arms, he looked so tiny and cute, it truly made your heart melt because you knew, that would never be you, Giselle sat close to you, and watched you observe Ariel, clapping her hands and singing along, her smile bright as the sun, she was stunning in her white dress and golden jewelry, red lips the same color of her hair, you would never be like her, you were stuck in your skin, pushing everyone away after one single thing went wrong, Giselle saw you struggling and she discreetly grabbed your fingers squeezing them, you turn to look at her, she gives you a tender smile to warm up your insides, you squeezed her hand back and walked off to the balcony, you put on your coat and head outside.

New York was covered in fog and the light of the cars shone through the gloom, the cold breeze froze your hands but you managed to light up your cigarette and put your back against the wall, then you heard someone stepping outside, you glanced and it was Alex. He stood in front of you, staring at you up and down, he put the back of his hand against your cheek, just like he used to, you felt something weighing in your heart, "Do you do that to Ariel?"

"No" He answers quickly, caressing your bottom lip, and pulling it down, "I would never touch her or love her the same way I loved you"

"Then why are you with her?" You asked him.

"Why are you with him?" Both of you stare into each

"I was just trying to begin' again, you were with her, you had moved on... and I hadn't," You said with honesty, "I can't even say your name,"

"Meeting you was the worst thing that happened to me too, you showed me what true love was, but I was afraid to let you down, to not be what you wanted"

"You were what I needed," You said, your throat closed, and your cheeks became warm, and your eyes watery, your lips became a pout, you couldn't speak, so you stare at him, you both saw the mess that was behind all the scowls. He leaned in closer to you and you stepped back, and his lips rosed yours, it had been so long since you had felt something inside you sparked like that, you had lost it the day he left you, you kissed each other, he had longed for the taste of your mouth, of bitting down on your plump lips, of the smell of your perfume, nothing about your appearance was different but you felt different, and that foreign feeling of love was getting thru the tall wall you had built, more tears rolled down your cheeks warming up the kiss, he had yearned for this kiss for so long, the taste of your salty tears that he used to wipe away with the same love and tenderness.

"I only came here 'cause I knew you would be here, I needed to know if you still felt the same, I can't keep my feelings in disguise," You thought about it, yes, you felt the same way, but would it be worth to take the risk and maybe end up devastated like last time, would you handle another broken heart?

"I can't," You said.

"Do you love him?" He asked, and you only saw him straight in the eyes, "Do you love me still?"

"Would you hurt me again?" You asked, "I don't care if the rest says that you've changed, I need you to earn me back again because I'm not gonna let you destroy everything I build up just as easily" You cleaned up your tears and went back inside quickly fetching your bag and locking yourself up in the bathroom.

You sat down on the floor and curled into a little ball by the sink, you had that gut-destroying feeling of your limps turning inside out, you wanted to rip off everything away, and you silently cried holding in all the rage, and the need to tear the whole place down, and then you heard someone forcing themselves in with a key, Giselle wooshed inside the bathroom to hug you, you felt like a tiny deer being hunt.

"How I hate him... I hate to hate him, and I hate that I still want him even after everything he did to me" You cried so quietly in Giselle's arms because she understood everything so well, even during the times she went thru this, you were with her, "I wish that I had never seen him, everyone tells me that he has changed but I don't trust them, I only trust you, I hate everyone else," She slides down to the floor with you, handing you another tiny bottle of vodka, "And then he asks me if I love Jack..."

"Do you?" She asks, but not because she doesn't know, she wants you to admit the truth.

"I don't... he acts like fucking Mr. Brightside when he's with all of his friends, but I know how he's like when the party ends," You emptied the bottle down your throat, "I hate him too," You said under your breath.

"Me too" You both giggled at the irony, "I hate that you think you're in love when the only person I've seen you love more than me is him," She said, "You still love him and you can't say no, but I know how hard it must be to let him come back, you know I love you, and whatever you choose to do I'll always be by your side," You hug her tightly and she lets go of you to wipe down your face and your little bambi eyes, "I'm glad some of that black went away, your eyes were too smokey" You botch chuckled and nod, "Fix that makeup and go outside, I'll be waiting for you with a bigger bottle of these" She waved the little vodka bottles and you nod, doing your makeup all over again with the things you brought, you fixed your eyeliner and smudged it a little, reapplying your lipstick and blush.

As you headed out, you saw Alex singing to Forest while Jamie played with him, he kept laughing with his sweet baby voice, and Giselle handed you a glass and poured you a drink.

"Sing the new song you made on the plane," Ariel said, "He's been working on it with Miles" You paid genuine attention to what Ariel said, he's been working with Miles again? That must mean a new TLSP project or maybe just a new song for Miles.

"First impressions of the century..."

You were completely shocked when you heard him sing once more, flashbacks of you at your old house shacking the tambourine to the rhythm of the music while Alex sat with his little messy and shaggy hair, he looked just like a puppy, and now he looked like a real tough man with all of that muscle and his slick hair, he had grown up so much too, you missed his side profile and his tender voice, now it had gone deeper, and you could hear exactly what the song could be like the moment he began to play it, your eyes light up when he says.

"Used to be my girl"

Giselle turns to you slowly, and everyone else looks at each other, then Ariel, Alex, and back to you, you hated the feeling of Ariel being so blinded by his charm, she clapped her hands so excited by the song.

"Isn't it great?" She glanced at everyone and all of them smiled nodding their heads.

"Yeah.... it's g-great" Giselle stutters with a kind and pityful smile. Pour Ariel, you hated the fact you might be guilty for her broken heart. Would you risk that? She seemed excited and in love with him, you wouldn't have wished that ache in the heart of anyone.

The rest of the night was full of surprises, opening the gifts at midnight, Jack simply messaging you a late Merry Christmas.

"What a fucking asshole," You said showing the message to Giselle she sat crossed leg in her fancy white shiny dress with a big bow on her back, you loved it.

"Maybe you should say goodbye to him and hello to you know who" Giselle whispered to you. No one else but her would or could understand what kind of love Alex and you had, it was no ordinary love, no passenger love, she was certain it could be the real thing, but things happened, and she was there to stand by you because she also knew someday you would see him again, if he was meant for you, out of fate or out of will.

"What about Ariel?" You asked.

"Maybe Alex can work something out, you don't know anything about her and their relationship" She insists.

"But I do know him, and they've been together for a while-"

"I need to talk to you" You glanced at Ariel when he went up to you, she was busy on the couch watching The Grinch with Jamie, Katie, and Forest, you looked at him up and down, and he held out his hand for you. You simply stood up and went with him to the bathroom.

He shut the door with a lock, cupping your cheeks and kissing you with the same need and passion as the years before, as if nothing had changed between you, "Alex... don't... stop" You mumbled and pushed him away.

"Don't stop? that's what you mean?" He suggests, pulling away from your mouth, you open your eyes and his hand drops to the back of your head, "That's what I thought" He forces a kiss on your lips and his hands grip your hips and push them against him.

"No Alex, I'm being serious... what about her?" You asked him, sorrow in your eyes when you asked about her, even if you didn't know her you could picture how she felt, he could make you see heaven, drag the moon and the stars to your feet, and still break your heart into a million little pieces.

"I'll tell her after this, ok? You don't have to worry about it" He kissed you and then he pulled away deep in thought, "And Jack?"

"Don't worry about him either, I'll just text him" You bite down on your lower lip, "He gets what he deserves" You said with a smirk, finally, how hungry were you for the moment to dump a man by text.

"Can I trust you will drop that wanker?" You roll your eyes, he drops his gaze to lock your eyes on him, the wrinkles in his forehead making you smile.

"Can I trust you with her?" He nods his head.

"Yes, you can" You were losing yourself entirely on him, his smell, his face, his lips, the touch, the need, the gripping, pulling, and bitting, you were out, "I love you more than anything or anyone... I never meant to-"

"We're just making things worse Alex," You said to him.

"Why?" He asks with genuine innocence.

"By saying I love you when everything is about to crumble to pieces just because of us," You said, "And I don't know what you did to that girl or what you do to girls to get them and convince them, but this one... you're gonna fuck her up, and I don't wanna be-"

"You won't, I know her, she doesn't know the full story and she's not the type to judge a book by its cover, she will understand" You rolled your eyes, and he sighed out of annoyance and despair, like a little kid in a store. He insists that you trust what he's saying, he pinches your cheeks together and you push his face away before he can kiss you.

"How are you so fucking sure she will understand? No girl ever is like that, every girl wants to be the only one in a man's life, if not the first to come then the last to stay... Alex, she loves you"

"But I love you!" He shouts, and you shake, as the feeling of cold shivers running all over your body electrocute your skin, "If I'm not with you I don't think I'll ever be capable of loving someone else, I can't let you get away, not again... I was so afraid of what could happen if you got engaged to me, everyone in the media would find out things about you even the most superficial things, that might tear us down, and you'd eventually start to hate that, how they violate and expose your private life thanks to me, and then, you would eventually start to hate me too"

"Why would you ever think that?" You asked pulling him closer to you, "No, I wouldn't ever leave you for something that stupid, they won't ever know what we have, who I am and who you are, I know exactly who you are, and I love you, I truly do" He took the ring off your hand, and threw it away, "Let's start again, I trust you'll figure things out, just... please don't get anyone hurt"

"Oh, I won't... but I don't promise anything about that fucking jackass you're-" He smiled to himself, "Were dating" He grabbed your wrists, "How did you manage to spend all of that time with that asshole...?" He bit down on his lip, his thumb pressed against your chin exposing your neck and slowly kissing it, your skin filling up with shivers.

"Oh, fuck... the same thing I asked myself every fuckin' day" You sighed breathing against his shoulder, you loved hearing the sounds that his wet lips made whenever he pressed a subtle kiss on your cheek, the warmth, and the little tickles, "He just didn't have it, didn't have the attitude, the confidence... the size" Your hand went down to grab his cock tightly as you bite down on your lip, "Spit in my mouth baby, I know you miss it" You open your mouth for him to spit in, his warm saliva all over your tongue, his kisses your mouth erotically and hard, and he pulls away to slap you in the face.

"Oh... fuck you're just makin' me-" He groaned as he gripped your arms to the side, pushing you against the sink, ass pressed against his hard dick, "That dress, such a shame that asshole didn't see it like that..." Your dress crumbled up to your hips, exposing your thin black panties and your round ass he kneaded like dough.

"Let's make this quick, Alex, I know you can" You smirked, and he quickly undo the buckle of his jeans to pull out his pulsing red cock, it felt so warm inside you, both of you moaned at the feeling of your bodies, he felt so warm and big, filled you up to the point you swore you could come just as easy, and he felt that electric shocks running up his body, his cock slides inside you with ease, your walls immediately adjusting to the size of his cock and he loved feeling your muscles contracting, tensing and squeezing, your little peachy fuzzy hairs on your arms raising up when his fingertips traced over your flushed and tender skin, how your body moves when he thrusts inside you, your back bends and your neck nudges to the side, he pressed his lips against your sweet spot, he looks at you thru the mirror, such a fucking picture.

"Ugh... fuckin' christ, keep going please...!" He covers up your mouth some of your hair sticking to your lipstick.

"Do you want everyone to hear you fucking, you little perverted slut?" He smiled bitting down on his bottom lip, he looks at you thru the mirror, your pupils dilated, cheeks flushed, hair messy and ruined, "Maybe they should know how good I fuck you, no one else could fuck you just as good, just as deep... you hear me?" You hummed as a yes, "You love it, don't you? I bet you missed being degraded to the ground, being pushed to the limits, that khaki wearing little shit couldn't even get closer... this is what you needed, a good and deep fuck from a real man to get you to see who can really give you what you want" He smiled, kissing your cheek and speeding up spanking your ass, and chocking you with the hand that was on your mouth, he pulled your hair back and he smelled your hair, the smell of vanilla and your poisonous perfume stung that part of his brain that flashed so many memories, he had missed that smell, he had certain melancholy about it whenever he smelled something similar, you were everywhere and he couldn't get you out of his skin.

You face had gone red, all stained with your lipstick and your tears and he keeps pushing his hips harder and harder, he sees your face thru the mirror, enjoying the view of your pleasure, you felt every single thrust and contraction of your walls, his fingers rubbing your sensitive spot relentlessly, your mouth making out chocked moans only Alex could get off on, he never had seen you get this needy, and after years of forcing your own release out of your body you finally relaxed and felt every part of your creamy and juicy release running down your thighs, one more thrust and you had gone into oblivion, Alex closed his eyes and pulled out of you so quickly when he felt you had finished, he dropped you to your knees and pulled your head back, sticking out your tongue to taste his cum all over your tongue, running it thru your teeth with a big smile, you were like a work of art in his eyes, with all of that body paint on your legs, on your arms and on your face.

"My God... I missed you so much" He went down to his knees, running his hands down your hair and letting them sit on your nape, "When we go out I'll tell her, ok?" He sighed.

"What the fuck? It's christmas Alex!" You said to him, he smacked his lips and smiled at you.

"Sorry, I-I forgot, I just want us to begin again, as soon as possible," He held your hands together.

"Let's give ourselves some time before we do this, I need to talk to Jack's parents about the engagement-"

He puts your hand on his face, "Calm down, babe"

"We're gonna make things worse Al" He grunted and kissed your mouth tenderly.

"Woman, I promise I'll be with you when it all falls down"

"Fine" You kissed him once more, you both entered into each other's heart, making you smile from the inside out, teeth colliding, heart touching heart, wrapping each other in to never let go, kissing until your mouths were dry and your lungs were out of breath.

"Soon you'll be mine woman, all mine, even through you always were but this time I'll make sure it's for good"

A/N

Merry christmas everyone! thank you so much for reading and voting on my chapters, and sorry for the people that are called like the people in this chapter no bad intentions were put into choosing the names of the characters, it was easier to name a few people. I hope you have a lovely and cozy christmas.

love you! 💞

#alex turner #arctic monkeys #alex turner smut #arctic monkeys one shots #alex turner fan fic #alex turner one shots #matt helders #nick omalley #jamie cook #merry christmas

97 notes · View notes

kmomof4 · 11 days

Text

A Scoundrel... Or a Gentleman? Ch. 4

We are back with a new chapter, and this one's a bit of a doozy... but not anything I have to apologize for. I think y'all will like this one! Thank you so much for coming along on this journey with me! I really can't put into words what it means to me 🥹

Thank you again to @jrob64 @hollyethecurious and @winterbaby89 for their advice and being my sounding boards as I worked on this. And also to @snowbellewells and @motherkatereloyshipper for the artwork they did for the fic!!! I STILL can't get over either one!!! 😍

Ch. Summary: Ruth's birthday has arrived and Emma and Killian both come to some realizations.

Words: 8550 of approx 59,5k

Rating: M (smut in later chs)

Tags: Regency Romance, Inspired by Francesca Bridgerton's Story, Smut in Later Chapters.

On ao3 From Beginning / Current Chapter

On Tumblr Prologue Ch2 Ch3

Tagging the usuals. Please let me know if you'd like to be added or removed.

@jrob64 @winterbaby89 @hollyethecurious @the-darkdragonfly @jennjenn615 @donteattheappleshook @undercaffinatednightmare @pirateherokillian @cocohook38 @qualitycoffeethings @booksteaandtoomuchtv @superchocovian @motherkatereloyshipper @snowbellewells @pirateprincessofpizza @djlbg @lfh1226-linda @xarandomdreamx @tiganasummertree @bluewildcatfanatic @anmylica @laianely @resident-of-storybrooke @exhaustedpirate @gingerchangeling @caught-in-the-filter @ultraluckycatnd @stahlop @darkshadow7 @fleurdepetite @captainswan-kellie @soniccat @beckettj @teamhook @whimsicallyenchantedrose @thisonesatellite @jonesfandomfanatic @elfiola @zaharadessert @ilovemesomekillianjones @mie779 @kymbersmith-90 @suwya

Under the cut, unless Tumblr ate it.

“Is he here?”

“He is not.”

“Are you quite sure?”

It was all Emma could do to keep from rolling her eyes in irritation. “He hadn’t yet left Kilmartin House when I did, and I haven’t seen him since, so yes. I’m as sure as I can be that he hasn’t arrived.”

“But he is coming?”

“Yes. He is coming.”

“Oh.” Mrs. Fisher was quiet for a moment, looking around the Nolan ballroom. “There’s Ariel. I must go see to her. Lovely to see you again, Emma.” With that, the woman - one of the most notorious gossips of the ton - left her alone to interrupt her daughter, who was speaking most animatedly with a handsome, but sadly, untitled gentleman on the other side of the room.

The conversation with the society matron would have been amusing if it hadn’t been the seventh, no, the eighth - one mustn’t forget the conversation with her own mother - she’d had to endure since she arrived. And since Ruth had announced that Killian would be in attendance at her birthday soiree, she didn’t think there was any possible way to avoid the interrogation of the unattached females, and their mamas, of the ton. All trying to find out tidbits about him that might smooth the way for them to charm the dashing earl, as he was now known.

“Lady Kilmartin!” She turned to see Lady Lucas making her way toward her. She was a stern older woman that many in the ton feared, but Emma rather liked her. Not afraid of anything or anyone, she wasn’t hesitant about making her thoughts and opinions known. She was a legend around town and Emma counted herself fortunate to be consistently in the countess’ good graces. The crowd between them parted like the Red Sea, the partygoers removing themselves from Lady Lucas’ line of sight.

“Lovely to see you, Lady Lucas,” Emma greeted the old woman, when she was finally close enough that Emma wouldn’t need to shout to be heard over the din of the party.

“Hmphh,” the old woman replied. “Don’t lie to me. We’re both well aware that no one thinks it’s lovely to see me coming.”

Emma couldn’t hold back a snort of amusement at her bluntness, even if she didn’t fully agree with her. “Are you enjoying yourself?” she asked instead.

“I’d enjoy myself better if someone would tell me how old your mother is.”

Emma gasped in shock. “I wouldn’t dare.”

“And why not?” Lady Lucas asked, indignant. “It’s not as if she’s as old as I am!”

Emma smiled slyly before speaking. “And just how old are you, Lady Lucas?”

The countess shot her an impressed look tinged with a knowing gleam in her eye. “Heh, heh, heh,” she chuckled. “You’re a clever one. But don’t think I’m going to fall for your tricks. You’ll never find out how old I am.”

“Then you must allow the same consideration for my mother.”

“Perhaps,” she conceded. “But what’s the point of a birthday party if we don’t know what we are celebrating?”

“The miracle of life and longevity?” Emma asked, pertly.

Lady Lucas snorted at that. “Where’s that new earl of yours?”

Emma tried not to choke on her drink. “He’s not mine,” she asserted.

Lady Lucas raised an eyebrow at her. “You’re still the countess, are you not?”

“Yes, of course,” she replied. Her heart thundered in her chest and she prayed the woman next to her was unaware of it.

“And he is the earl.” The eyebrow went even higher. “Is he not?”

“Yes, of course he is.”

“That makes him yours,” she insisted with a sharp nod. “And besides, I thought you were friends.”

“W-we are,” she stammered. That much was definitely true, but Emma couldn’t countenance the underlying message the countess seemed determined to get across. “He is my brother-in-law. That is all.”

“It doesn’t have to be.” Lady Lucas looked around the crowded room before speaking again. “I do believe you deserve a reprieve. From me,” she continued, in case her meaning had not been abundantly clear.

“You are my reprieve,” Emma mumbled under her breath. But Lady Lucas gave no indication that she’d heard her, no matter that her hearing was positively wolf-like, able to hone in on anything of interest within a fifteen foot radius.

“I believe I’ll go pester your brother. Isn’t he newly arrived from Cyprus?”

Emma spied August some twenty feet away on the other side of the ballroom, surrounded by his own group of admirers, no doubt hanging on every word of his adventures.

“Why, yes, he is,” Emma acknowledged, a sly grin on her face. August was terrified of Lady Lucas and Emma would rather enjoy watching him try to avoid the countess once she set her eyes on him.

“Mr. Nolan,” she barked. Emma giggled behind her hand to see the terror flash in her brother’s eyes while he tried to pretend he hadn’t heard her. As Lady Lucas moved toward her latest target, Emma realized that she had been a very effective deterrent to the many matrimonial minded mamas who saw her as their only link to Killian. Good heavens, three of them were already heading her way.

It was time to escape. Now. She turned on her heel and marched right over to where her sister Ruby stood conversing with their sister-in-law Mary Margaret, and their brother Will’s intended, Belle French. Ruby was easy to spot in the crush of partygoers, wearing a beautiful red gown. Emma would have rather left the party completely, but if she was serious about finding herself a husband this season, she was going to have to stay visible and let it be known. Not that anyone would take any notice until Killian arrived. She could announce that she planned to move to the dark continent of Africa and take up cannibalism and the only response she’d be likely to garner would be if the earl was going to accompany her.

“Good evening,” Emma said, joining the small group.

“Oh, hello, Emma,” Ruby greeted her. “Where’s…”

“Don’t you start,” Emma growled. “If one more person asks me where Killian is, my head will explode.”

“That would certainly change the tenor of the evening,” Mary Margaret remarked mildly, taking a sip of her lemonade.

“As well as the cleaning duties of the staff,” Belle added.

Emma rolled her eyes.

“Well? Where is he?” Ruby demanded.

Emma sighed. “I don’t know. He said he’d be here.”

“If he’s smart, he’s probably hiding in the hall,” Belle observed.

“Goodness gracious, you’re probably right.” Emma could just see him bypassing the ballroom completely to socialize in the smoking room. In other words, away from all the females. “I wish he would get here so people would stop asking me about him.”

Ruby laughed loudly. “Oh my poor delusional Emma,” she guffawed. “Once he arrives, the questions will double and simply change from where is he to tell us more.”

“I fear she is right,” Mary Margaret said, with Belle nodding in agreement.

“Oh, dear,” Emma breathed, realizing that was exactly what would happen.

“You’re wearing blue!” Mary Margaret exclaimed.

Emma looked down, almost surprised. She’d nearly forgotten. The shade was really quite lovely, a soft sky blue. The comparison to Killian’s eyes couldn’t possibly be avoided.

“Yes, yes I am,” Emma replied, raising her chin just a touch.

“You’re out of mourning, then?” Belle asked gently.

Emma couldn’t meet her eyes and lifted one shoulder in a half shrug. “Well, I’ve been out of mourning for quite some time.”

“Does this mean you’re wanting to remarry?” Trust Ruby to get straight to the point.

“It has been four years after all,” Mary Margaret added.

Emma couldn’t hide her wince. But there was no use denying it.

“Yes.”

For a moment, there was silence from the ladies. Then they all spoke at once offering their congratulations and bits of advice that she wasn’t at all sure she wanted to hear.

“We shall have to spread the news, of course,” Mary Margaret said, excitedly.

Emma gasped. “You can’t be serious!”

“Of course I am! The blue dress is an excellent signal of your intentions, but the only ones astute enough to notice are fellow females. The men of our acquaintance are simply too obtuse. Don’t worry,” she continued, laying her hand on Emma’s arm, who was feeling rather ill at the prospect. “We will be the very model of discretion and tact.”

“Trust us,” Ruby interjected, the smirk on her face inspiring the very opposite. “Oh, look. There’s Killian.”

And so he was. The ladies all looked toward the entrance to the ballroom to see Killian already surrounded by a gaggle of women. Not that Emma was surprised in the least.

“My goodness,” Mary Margaret breathed, “I forgot how handsome he is.” Emma’s lips pressed into a thin line.

“He’s very tanned,” Belle added.

“He was in India for four years. Of course he’s tanned,” Emma snapped.

Ruby’s head jerked toward her. “You’re of rather a short temper tonight, Emma,” she observed.

Emma tried to school her features into a more neutral mask. “I’m just weary of being asked about him all the time. There are so many other more interesting topics of conversation.”

“Did you two have a falling out or something?”

Emma’s breath caught as she realized she’d left the wrong impression. “No, of course not,” she assured her sister. “But he’s been literally the only thing I’ve talked about all evening. At this point, I’d be delighted to comment on the weather.”

“Hmmm.”

“Of course.”

“Yes.”

Emma had no idea who said what as they were all once again staring at Killian and his crowd of admirers - about half pursuing him for marriage, either for themselves or their daughters, while the other half were young and already married, obviously pursuing him for another reason entirely.

“He is very handsome,” Belle commented. “All that black hair.”

“Belle!” Emma exclaimed.

“What?” she replied. “It’s true!”

“You’re to be married!”

“Well, I’m not yet!” she exclaimed. “And even then, I’m not blind!”

“Does that mean that Emma and I are the only ones allowed to comment on how handsome he is? Spinster that I am and unattached as she is…” Ruby asked.

“Killian is the last man you’d want to marry, Ruby,” Emma said.

“And why is that?” she asked. The words had been out of Emma’s mouth before she’d even had a chance to think, and now all three of them had their full attention fixed on her, awaiting her answer.

“‘W- well,” she stammered, her eyes widening as she cast about for something to say. “He’s just a terrible rake, is all. And you know his reputation. He could never remain faithful to one woman.” As she watched him charm the masses, her heart squeezed at her flippant words. He may have been a rake and a scoundrel, with no real responsibility, but the way he’d dutifully stepped into the role of the earl since being restored to health had been unexpected to say the least. She had a feeling that the change she’d sensed in him since their reunion a month ago, may very well extend to matters of the heart, as well. Or, maybe not necessarily matters of the heart - it was still very difficult to imagine Killian falling in love - but matters of duty to crown and country. The duty to marry and produce an heir. And Killian’s heart of honor would likely not allow him to break his marriage vows.

“Rake or not,” Ruby mused. “He’s terribly handsome. No wonder he attracts so much attention.”

“He’s always attracted female attention, but not from the marriage minded,” Emma said. “The fact that he’s an earl is the only reason he’s the catch of the season.”

“You should go greet him,” Mary Margaret said, nudging Emma with her elbow.

“Why on earth should I do that?”

“Because he’s here.”

Emma gestured around the room as she spoke. “So are a hundred other men,” she replied. “All of which I’d rather marry.”

Ruby turned her shrewd gaze on Emma for a moment, making her want to squirm. “Mmhmmm,” she hummed. “Don’t know why,” she continued, now rolling her eyes. “Killian is far more handsome than any of them.” Emma turned her head sharply at her sister. Of all the Nolan siblings, Emma and Ruby were the closest in age, exactly one year apart. And while, of course, she’d give her life for her sister, more often than not, she felt like strangling her. Like now. Especially right now. “There’s only three here that I’d even consider obeying. And I’m not even sure about them…”

“Be that as it may,” Emma replied, desperate to redirect Ruby’s thoughts, “spending time with Killian will not help my prospects in finding a husband.”

“And I thought we were here to celebrate Mother’s birthday,” her sister quipped with a smirk. Emma glared.

“But Mary Margaret is right,” Belle said. “You should go over and greet Killian. It’s only polite and will signal to the ton that you fully accept him as the earl and that there is no rift between you. Which everyone will think, if you don’t.”

Emma sighed. Belle was right. Killian deserved a proper and formal welcome to London society and if she didn’t do it, it would be gossip fodder for weeks. And that kind of speculation at the moment would not help her. Not when she was trying to find a husband.

She’d always found Killian’s reputation to be amusing. Probably because she was rather removed from it all. What did his reputation matter to her as a happily married woman? But she was no longer a married woman. She was in the market for a new husband and to see Killian flirt and charm so effortlessly irked her for some reason that she didn’t want to look at too closely.

“I will go greet Killian,” she promised. “Just as soon as I see to myself.” If she was going to fight her way through all the ladies surrounding Killian, she’d rather do it without having to hop from foot to foot.

As she passed Ruby, she could have sworn her sister whispered coward under her breath. Emma inhaled sharply and walked faster instead of turning and lobbing back a scathing retort. Because Ruby just might be right, and that was terrifying to consider.

~*~*~

He was aware of her from the moment he entered the room. Emma stood on the other side of the ballroom conversing with her sister and sisters-in-law; or nearly, in the case of Belle French, Will’s betrothed. He couldn’t hide the small smile that touched his lips when he saw what she wore. Light blue silk glowed under the light of all the candles, and while she was too far away for him to experience the full effect, he still had to catch his breath at the picture that formed in his mind's eye.

Even four years away from her hadn’t changed that one whit. And he didn’t suppose it ever would. At least in India, she wasn’t around for him to be aware of her. But now that he was back, it was as clear to him as it ever was. He’d never be free of her. And she’d never be his. His heart clenched at the thought.

Within seconds of entering the room, he was surrounded by no less than half a dozen debutantes, and their mamas as well. As he suffered through each introduction, and re-introduction of the ladies, he blessed his ability - gift, really - to charm and appear wholly focussed on those seeking his attention, even if that attention was truly elsewhere. Emma suddenly left her family and was making her way toward the side entrance, no doubt seeking the ladies retiring room. Once she was gone, he announced his intention to locate his hostess to offer his thanks and best wishes, and excused himself.

When Emma arrived back in the ballroom, he hadn’t yet spoken with his hostess, being waylaid by Lady Lucas and Emma’s family. Not that he minded the Nolan ladies, since Ruby was the only one among them unattached, and she was as much a sister to him as anything. Killian immediately changed direction and caught his breath yet again, as the full realization hit him of exactly what it meant for her to be dressed in blue at a social event, even if it was her mother’s birthday fête.

She was out of mourning. Officially. She would flirt. And dance. And laugh. And find herself a husband. And it would probably happen within the space of a month. Because once her intention became clear, she would be flooded with suitors. After all, who wouldn’t want to marry her? She was beautiful, vivacious, witty, and had an air of maturity the younger debutantes didn’t have. And as her highest ranking male relative, he’d have a front row seat.

A soft, knowing smirk adorned her face as she approached him. He responded in kind as he met her halfway.

“Lady Kilmartin,” he murmured with a bow, taking the hand she offered him and brushing his lips across the knuckles.

“Welcome back to London, my lord,” she replied, curtseying properly. The moment they were both upright again, giggles and a full bodied laugh burst from them. The utter ridiculousness of the formality of their greeting was not lost on either of them.

Killian held his arm out for her. “May I have this dance?” She took his arm, the knowing smirk back on her face as he led her to the dance floor. He took her in his arms, his necessary mask when in her presence firmly in place, and began to lead her in a waltz. “You look lovely this evening, Emma. The color looks splendid on you.”

Her cheeks flushed prettily and she demurely looked down. “Thank you. I see you did make time to see the tailor. You look quite handsome as well.”

They continued the waltz for a few moments before he spoke again. “So, are you enjoying yourself?” he asked.

Emma rolled her eyes. “Ruby, Mary Margaret, and Belle all said I should greet you properly, since this is your formal entry to society. Can’t let the ton think there’s any issue between us.” Killian swallowed hard, as he spun her and then drew her close again. “No matter that we’ve been living in the same house for weeks.”

“What issue could they possibly think may be between us?” he asked, honestly puzzled.

“I haven’t a clue,” she replied, “but that’s never stopped them from wagging their collective tongues, speculating about a non-existent scandal.”

“This is true.” Even in the few minutes he’d been the center of attention, he could plainly see the essence of the ton was unchanged since he’d left four years ago. He wasn’t sure if it was amusing or hell. Amusing, at the moment, he decided. Next week, it’d likely be hell.

“And what about you? Are you enjoying yourself, Killian?”

“Of course.”

“Of course?” She raised her eyebrow as if she didn’t believe him. “Even dancing with me, instead of being surrounded by a whole host of giggling young ladies hanging on your every word?”

“Why, Emma,” he said, waggling his brows, “Is that a note of jealousy I hear in your voice?”

Emma blanched and her eyes widened. He’d only been teasing her, but her response, quite honestly, startled him.

“O-of course not!” she exclaimed, her cheeks flaming again. “Why would you think I was jealous? I’ve never been jealous of your admirers before. Why would you think I am now?”

“Calm down, Emma,” he cajoled. “I was only teasing. I know you’re not jealous.” Even if the most fervent desire of his heart was for her to love him as he loved her, he couldn’t wish the torment of jealousy upon her, not when he himself had lived with it day in and day out for so many years.

She was still flustered and wouldn’t meet his eyes, and Killian couldn’t help the way his heart leapt with hope. “You must be careful though. These ladies are not your usual ladies.”

Killian’s eyebrows rose in surprise. “I wasn’t aware I had a usual.”

Emma finally looked at him, though the color was still high on her cheeks. “Oh, come now, Killian. You know what I’m talking about. Four years ago you had standards. You didn’t seduce anyone who’d be irreparably harmed by your actions.”

“And what makes you think I’m going to start now?” The hope that filled his heart moments ago, plummeted. He brought them to a halt in the middle of the dance floor and led her to the edge of the ballroom and out onto the blessedly deserted terrace. He knew exactly what she was saying and he really shouldn’t have been surprised. He’d been very conscious and purposeful to flirt and seduce where either Emma could see it or she’d hear about it later, all so she’d never know the truth that lay buried in his heart. And now his reputation as a rogue and scoundrel diminished him in her eyes. And that was the last thing he wanted. Bitterness and resentment rose up within him as he turned back to her, and he couldn’t keep their bite out of his words. “Tell me, Emma. Just who do you think I am? Do you really think me so dimwitted or careless that I might accidentally ruin some young lady?”

He didn’t think he’d ever seen her pale so quickly and he immediately regretted what he’d said. “O- of course not,” she stammered. “I’m just afraid…”

“Afraid of what?”

Her chin trembled slightly. “I’m afraid I won’t be able to count the number of hearts you’ll break this spring.”

His voice was quiet but hard. “And why are you so concerned about that? It’s not your job to count them.”

“I know.” Her voice was nearly a whisper and he had to strain to hear her. “But I won’t be able to help myself.”

He had nothing to say to her. Her words and posture had his mind spinning. Why would she concern herself with how many hearts he might break? He certainly didn’t set out to do so. But the fact that she expected it of him hurt.

“You should dance,” she burst out.

“We just finished a dance,” he informed her, testily.

“I meant with someone eligi…” She cut herself off before finishing the word, and Killian couldn’t help but wonder why. There was no possible way she might have guessed that he’d consider her eligible. He’d kept his feelings too well hidden for that. “Someone you might marry.”

Someone he might marry, he thought irritably. To her mind, anyone but her.

“As a signal to society that you are looking for a countess.” He made no comment, but he could feel the muscle in his jaw twitching in his agitation. “You are… looking for a countess… are you not?”

He shrugged, flippantly. “If you say so.”

“Someone who won’t fall in love with you.”

He turned sharply toward her and raised an eyebrow sardonically. “Heaven forbid I fall in love.”

She turned her head more fully toward him, her mouth open in a soft O of surprise. “Is that what you want? To fall in love?”

The joy and delight on her face was too much. Surely there was no more perfect irony in the universe. God must be sitting on His throne having a good laugh at how tied up in knots he was.

“Killian?” she asked when he didn’t answer right away.

She wanted him to find love. She wanted him to be happy. And all he wanted to do was scream.

“If you will excuse me,” he said, his voice cold and formal, “I must go find someone with whom to dance. Someone I might marry. But someone who will absolutely not fall in love with me.”

“Killian, please,” she said in a whisper. “Don’t be like this. I didn’t mean…”

“Oh, I understand exactly what you mean, Emma,” he stated. “We must preserve the delicate and pure hearts of the ladies of the ton, since my heart is far too black to be helped.”

With those words, he turned back toward the ballroom and left the terrace.

~*~*~

The next morning, Emma felt perfectly wretched. She couldn’t shake the guilt that clung to her like a blanket, even though Killian was the one who was so cold and heartless the evening before.

What had she done or said to provoke such an unkind response from him? He’d never been interested in love and marriage before, and while she knew he’d eventually fulfill his duty to marry and beget an heir, when he’d said what he did about falling in love, her heart had beat double time. She wanted that happiness for him, but his cold and callous words towards her, and then his actions the rest of the evening, showed her plainly that his words about love were just that. Words.

When she went back into the ballroom from the terrace, she’d been inundated with dance requests and spent the rest of the evening dancing with this gentleman, or that viscount, and even a marquess. But Killian still commanded her attention. And she was painfully aware of how he charmed every single female in attendance. It got to where she was quite disgusted with herself for not being able to put him out of her mind.

Every once in a while, his eyes would meet hers and they would turn hard and cold, but with an edge of mocking as he moved on to the next conquest. It was obvious to her that he knew exactly what he was doing. After her whispered confession about counting his broken hearts, he rose to the challenge with alacrity. She still wasn’t sure why she’d said that. Or even what exactly she meant. The words were past her lips before she could really think about it.

But they were true nonetheless. She had counted. But why? What did it matter? She’d never cared before! And it was only going to get worse. The women of the ton were mad for Killian. If the rules of courtship were reversed, the drawing room of Kilmartin house would be overflowing with flowers of every description. All addressed to the Dashing Earl.

But it was still going to be dreadful. She expected numerous female callers today, all hoping that Killian would walk through the drawing room. But even if he didn’t, she’d still have to answer numerous questions about him…

“Good heavens!” she exclaimed, looking into the drawing room. “What’s this?”

Flowers. Flowers everywhere. Flowers of every description on every available surface.

It was her nightmare come to life! Had someone changed the rules of society and failed to tell her?

Lilies, orchids, tulips, violets. Roses. Roses everywhere. In every color. The scent was overwhelming and nearly sent her running.

“Tom!” she called the butler. She heard a loud sneeze and then he appeared in the doorway of the room holding a vase of daisies, his nose red and eyes watering terribly.

“Oh, Tom! I’m so sorry! All these flowers must be terrible for your allergies! But where did they all come from?”

“They are…” sneeze “for you…” louder sneeze “milady.” three sneezes in remarkably quick succession.

Emma blinked.

“For me?” She couldn’t fathom it. She was a widow. Men didn’t send flowers to widows. Did they?

Tom sniffed loudly and blew his red nose on his ever-present handkerchief. “I left the cards…” sneeze “on each arrangement…” sniff “so you would be able to identify each sender.” More sneezing.

“Here,” she said apologetically, “let me take those and you go take care of yourself.”

He handed the vase over and hurried off, no doubt thankful to be away from all the flora in the room.

Emma walked slowly into the room, and set the vase of daisies down on the nearest empty surface, too overcome by the lavish display. She came to an arrangement of tulips in the brightest of colors. Beautiful flowers for a beautiful lady the card read. It was signed Viscount Trevalstam. He’d lost his wife two years ago. Everyone knew he was looking for a new bride to give him an heir.

A delicate purple orchid was the next vase she came to. From Baron Whale.

“Who could these be from?” she mused, approaching an arrangement of yellow roses. She couldn’t keep the giddiness inside of her hidden as a wide and delighted grin spread across her lips. A Shakespearian sonnet, if she wasn’t mistaken and signed by Earl Stone. They’d only been introduced the evening before and shared a single dance. He was quite handsome, but since she had a full dance card, she hadn’t had the opportunity to converse with him after their turn on the floor.

“Good heavens!”

Emma turned to see Alice in the doorway. Her mouth hung open slightly, much as hers had been upon discovering the floral display.

“What is all this?”

“I believe those were my exact words when I came in,” Emma laughed. Alice approached and Emma handed her the cards she’d already read. She watched her mother-in-law carefully. She’d lost her firstborn son when Liam died. How would she react to Emma being pursued by other men?

Alice’s eyes were soft as they rose to meet hers after reading the cards.

“Oh, my,” she breathed. “You seem to be the season’s Incomparable.”

Emma felt her cheeks heat. “Oh, don’t be silly,” she protested. “I’m far too old for that.”

“Apparently not,” Alice replied. “Have you looked at all of the cards?”

“Not yet,” Emma said. “But I imagine…”

“They’re more of the same?”

Emma met Alice’s gaze and slowly nodded. “Does that bother you?”

Alice’s smile was sad, but her eyes were kind and wise. “Do I wish that you were still married to my son?” she asked. “Of course, I do.” She laid the cards down on the table and took Emma’s hands in her own. “Do I wish for you to remain married to his memory? Of course not. You are my daughter, Emma, and I want you to be happy.”

Emma’s eyes filled with tears. “I would like to have a child,” she said, feeling the need to explain to Alice that she wanted to be a mother, not necessarily a wife.

Alice nodded and dabbed at her own eyes before turning toward another arrangement, a delicate and lovely arrangement of grape hyacinths and stephanotis. “We must read the rest of these cards. And then prepare ourselves for a flood of afternoon callers,” she said, her tone brisk, clearly communicating her wish to move on from the heavily charged moment.

“I rather think the callers will be women,” she murmured, “inquiring after Killian.”

“You may be right,” she agreed. She held up the card. “May I?”

Emma nodded and Alice opened the card. Her mouth dropped open slightly as she read the words.

“What is it?” Emma asked, almost dreading her response.

“Cheshire.”

Emma gasped. “As in the Duke of?”

“The very one.”

Emma raised a hand to her heart. “The Duke of Cheshire,” she breathed. “Oh, my…”

“Oh my, indeed,” Alice agreed. “You, my dear, are clearly the catch of the season.”

“But…”

“What the devil is all this?” Both ladies turned to see Killian standing in the doorway of the drawing room, looking exceedingly cross.

“Good morning, Killian,” Alice said cheerfully.

He nodded in response then looked at Emma. “You look like you’re about to faint,” he said, waving his hand around aimlessly. Emma dropped her hand back to her side, having forgotten completely she still held it over her heart. He came further into the room and raised his eyebrow. “Are we opening a flower shop, then?”

“We clearly could,” Alice answered him. “They’re for Emma.”

“Of course they’re for Emma,” he replied. “Who else would they be for? But good God, how many roses are there? And who would be idiot enough to send them?”

“I like roses,” Emma protested.

“Everyone sends roses,” Killian groused. “They’re trite and old and… who sent these?” he asked, motioning to a display of white roses she hadn’t yet read the card for.

“I don’t know,” she admitted. “I haven’t seen the card yet.”

He plucked the card from the arrangement and opened it. “Lord Gaston,” he read.

“You will under no circumstances marry him. He hasn’t two shillings to rub together.”

Emma’s mouth dropped open in shock. “And how do you know that?”

He fixed her with an unamused look. “I’ve been to my club.”

“That may be true, but it’s hardly his fault.” She may not have seriously considered marrying him, but she did feel compelled to defend him since everyone knew the young Lord had spent the last year trying to repair the damage his father had done to the family finances.

“You’re not marrying him, and that’s final,” Killian announced.

She should have been annoyed by his arrogance, but in truth, she was only amused.

“Very well,” she replied, a smirk on her lips. “I’ll choose someone else.”

“Good,” he grunted.

“She has many to choose from,” Alice supplied, helpfully.

“Indeed,” he said caustically.

“May I take these daisies to my room?” Alice asked suddenly. “They are my favorite flower.”

“Of course,” Emma agreed quickly. Alice picked up the arrangement and left them alone. It was only a moment later that Killian let out a violent sneeze. As soon as he recovered, he glared at the display of gladiolas next to him that prompted it.

“We shall have to open a window,” he groused.

“And freeze?” Emma asked.

“I’ll put on a coat,” he ground out.

“Are you jealous?” she asked coyly. He snapped his head toward her so fast, she quickly backtracked. “Not over me,” she clarified, mortified to feel her cheeks heat. “Heavens, no. Not that.”

“Over what then?” he asked, his voice quiet and clipped.

“Well… just…” she stammered, gesturing aimlessly toward the ostentatious display around them, “I mean, we’re both after the same goal this season, aren't we?”

He stared at her blankly.

“Marriage?” Good heavens but he was obtuse this morning.

“What of it?”

She let out an impatient breath. “I don’t know if you’d thought of it or not, but I rather assumed you would be the one to be relentlessly pursued. Not me. I never dreamed that I would…”

“Emerge as a prize to be won?” He lifted his eyebrow at her knowingly.

“Well, yes… I guess.” It wasn’t the nicest way to put it, but she couldn’t argue the point.

For a moment, he was silent. His clear blue eyes never wavering from hers. “Any man who doesn’t want to marry you is a fool.”

Emma’s jaw dropped. “Oh… well…” She was quite at a loss for words. “I believe that’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me.”

“Emma,” he sighed. Emma couldn’t look away from him. He looked tired, and sad, and something else. Regretful, maybe? No, Killian didn’t regret anything.

“I would never begrudge you this, Emma. You…” he cleared his throat, “deserve to be happy.”

She had no idea how to reply. Especially after their words last night.

“We both deserve happiness, Killian. Your turn will come.”

He turned questioning eyes upon her.

“It already has really,” she continued. “Last night. I was besieged by far more of your admirers than my own.”

Killian smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. He didn’t look angry, just… hollow, almost. And it struck her how odd an observation that was.

“Speaking of…” he began, reaching up and scratching behind his ear, “Last night. I must apologize for my behavior. I hurt you, and I’m sorry.”

“Everything is fine,” she assured him.

“Nonetheless,” he said gruffly, “I’m sorry.”

She watched him intently. His face was so dear to her and she knew every last detail of it. But something was different about him now. And she wasn’t sure what. And she wasn’t sure how it’d come about. She was also quite sure there was more he wanted to tell her, but couldn’t find the words.

“Everything is fine, Killian,” she repeated. “We’re fine.”

He nodded sharply, turned on his heel, and left the room.

~*~*~

Later, Killian sat in his club, a tumbler of rum in his hand. He grit his teeth, the muscle in his jaw twitching as he reflected on Ruth’s birthday party. He didn’t enjoy acting like an ass, but he truly had, and the guilt ate at him. He couldn’t really blame Emma. She’d always wanted to see him happily married. As happy as she’d been with his brother. But when he’d uttered the L word the previous evening, the joy on her face at the prospect of him finding love was just too much and he’d snapped. At least he’d apologized, and she’d forgiven him, but the maelstrom of the feelings he held for his sister-in-law almost guaranteed that it would happen again.

Once she was married and out of the house, and he wasn’t sitting across from her for every meal, he’d be better. They’d remain friends, of course. Emma wouldn’t allow anything else, but her new husband would certainly not allow her to spend so much time in his presence, brother-in-law or no.

“Jones,” a voice called, before Killian heard a clearing of a throat. “Er, Kilmartin, rather. So sorry.”

Killian looked up to see Baron Victor Whale, an acquaintance from Cambridge. “Think nothing of it,” he said, motioning to the chair across from him.

“Splendid to see you back in London,” Victor said, taking his seat. “I trust your journey home was uneventful.”

“It was,” Killian replied. “Thank you.”

They exchanged the most basic of pleasantries until Victor got to the point. “I understand Lady Kilmartin is in the market for a husband.”

It was a very good thing Killian was so well versed in keeping his true feelings hidden, because the baron’s words and the gleam in his eyes made the alcohol in his stomach sour, and he had to fight to keep his countenance even. No matter that he thought of little else in the last few days, hearing others speak of it was the very last thing he wanted to hear.

“Er, yes,” he replied, taking a sip of his drink. “I believe she is.”

“Splendid.” The smile on Victor’s face grew and Killian steeled himself for his next words. “Will you dower her?”

Killian’s eyebrows jumped on his head in surprise. “What?” It hadn’t even occurred to him. Good God, he’d probably have to give her away at the wedding.

“Will you dower her?” he repeated.

“Of course,” he bit out, holding on to his temper by the most tenuous of threads.

“Her brother said the same.” Killian feared for his teeth if he ground them any harder. If Victor thought he had any chance of gaining Emma’s hand and her apparently double dowry, he had another thing coming. He’d been a frequent visitor to the track back in their university days, and he doubted that had changed appreciatively since then. He was very likely impoverished and looking for an heiress to save him from ruin.

“The Jones’ will care for her,” Killian replied through grit teeth.

Victor shrugged. “Apparently, the Nolan’s will as well. Well, good seeing you again, Kilmartin,” he said, standing. “I must be off to tell Cheshire the news. Not that I want the competition, but this won’t stay under wraps for long. Might as well be the one to start its spread.” He laughed and Killian glared as he walked away.

Killian looked down at the empty glass in his hand. Damn, he’d already drunk it all. He signaled for another and then heard his name again. He did his best to hide his irritation, but this time wasn’t entirely sure he succeeded.

“Good evening, Kilmartin.” The voice belonged to Earl Arthur Stone. The man was familiar to him, of course, enough that a friendly conversation in the club wouldn’t draw undue attention, but he often reminded Killian of a strutting peacock, and after his floral delivery this morning, there was little doubt why he was seeking Killian out this evening.

“Stone,” he greeted, motioning to the chair Whale had recently vacated. He was only a bit more circumspect than Whale had been, engaging him in pleasantries for a full five minutes before bringing up his true purpose.

“I called upon Lady Kilmartin this afternoon,” he informed Killian.

“Did you?” he replied, nonplussed. He may not have been in the house when Stone called, wanting to spare himself the parade of suitors that seemed inevitable after the floral display that morning, but he wasn’t a fool.

“She’s lovely,” Arthur continued, when it became clear Killian had nothing else to say in light of his revelation.

“She is indeed.” Killian swirled his fresh drink and brought it to his lips, his eyes never leaving the man across from him.

Stone cleared his throat and spoke again. “I intend to court her, you know.”

Killian pierced him with a stare and was gratified to see just a slight bit of discomfort at his scrutiny.

“Well, if I didn’t, I certainly do now.”

Stone pulled at his cravat. “I wasn’t sure whether to inform you or her brother.”

Killian had no doubt David Nolan, the viscount and Emma’s eldest brother, would have no trouble determining the worth of potential suitors. But as her higher ranking relative, it’d be customary for him to be informed first by those same suitors.

“I am sufficient.”

“Excellent.” He took a sip of his drink and cleared his throat, a bit nervously in Killian’s opinion.

“Stone!” a rather jovial voice called. “And Kilmartin, too! What a surprise to see you!” It was Lord Cassidy. And if he wasn’t drunk yet, he was close to it.

Killian refrained from rolling his eyes at the man’s statement, as he took a seat between himself and Arthur.

“When did you get back to London?” Cassidy asked, taking a sip of his drink.

“I’ve been back about a month,” Killian replied. He realized his glass was empty again and signaled for another. He was going to need it.

Cassidy nodded several times in quick succession. “And Lady Kilmartin, as well, I see,” he continued. “Finally out of mourning, yes? She wore blue last night,” he said, answering his own question.

“She looked quite lovely,” Stone added.

“Indeed, indeed,” Cassidy nodded again. “A fine woman. Why, I’d go after her myself if I wasn’t already shackled to Lady Cassidy.”

Small favors, Killian thought, barely able to keep himself from rolling his eyes in annoyance. He couldn’t imagine being faced with a potential suit from the buffoon in front of him.

“How long did she mourn the old earl?” he asked and Killian bristled.

“Four years,” he bit out. “My brother died four years ago.”

“Whatever,” Cassidy replied, blatantly ignoring Killian’s emphasis on his relationship to the old earl. “It was a bloody long time.” He shrugged. “All the same to us though. She wasn’t looking for a husband until now.”

“No,” Killian said. If only because Cassidy had actually stopped to take a breath.

“The men are going to be after her like bees to flowers.” He drew out the s so that it sounded like a long zzzzz. “Beezzzz to honey, I say. And there hasn’t been a hint of scandal about her in all that time.”

“Of course not!” Stone sounded shocked and Killian ground his teeth wondering where Cassidy was going with this.

“Not like some of the widows out and about, eh?” he continued, elbowing Killian and shooting him a significant look. “If you know what I mean.”

Killian looked him square in the face and speared him with a stare that would have sent his underlings back in India scurrying, but which he was afraid Lord Cassidy was a bit too obtuse, or a bit too drunk to notice.

“What, exactly, do you mean, Cassidy?” he asked, a hard edge to his voice.

“It’s like…” He leaned in conspiratorially and his grin turned salacious. “It’s like…”

“Oh, for God’s sake, man. Spit it out,” Killian growled.

“I’ll tell you what it’s like,” he repeated, his grin turning into a leer. “It’s like you’re getting a virgin who knows what to do.”

“What did you say?” Killian’s voice was deadly quiet.

“I said…��

“I would take care to not repeat what you just said, if I were you, Cassidy,” Stone tried to warn him.

“Eh? It’s no insult, I assure you,” Cassidy continued before finishing off his drink. “I mean, she’s been married, so you know she’s not untouched, but she hasn’t gone off and…”

“Stop now,” Killian ground out.

“What? Why? Everyone is saying it.”

“Not to me, they’re not.” If Cassidy was too dense to take the warning, then Killian was just going to have to cut his tongue out of his head. Or strangle him. “Not if they value their head.”

“Well, it’s better than saying she ain’t like a virgin,” Cassidy chortled, “If you know what I mean.”

Killian lunged.

“Good God, man,” Cassidy choked out, his back on the floor. Killian didn’t know how his hands came to be around the bastard’s neck, but he found he rather liked the way they looked there. “What… the hell… is wrong with you?”

“You will never,” he hissed, his face inches from Cassidy’s, “speak her name again. Do you understand me?” Cassidy tried to nod, but it only cut off his air supply more.

Killian released him and stood, wiping his hands on his pant legs as if wiping away something foul. “I will not tolerate Lady Kilmartin being spoken of in such disrespectful terms. Is that clear?”

Cassidy nodded and so did several onlookers.

“Good.” Killian decided now was a good time to vacate the premises, and so strode out of the room. Once in the hallway, he heard his name yet again and wondered who’d be so idiotic as to approach him when he was this angry. Will Nolan. Emma’s older brother. Damn.

“Kilmartin,” Will said, his customary knowing smirk firmly planted on his face.

“Nolan,” Killian greeted.

“I was having a quiet drink when I heard the commotion,” he said, motioning to the room Killian had just left. “Come join me.”

Killian may have wanted nothing more than to leave, but Will was Emma’s brother, so they were relations of a sort and he couldn’t get away with snubbing his invitation. Will had always unnerved him. They shared the same sort of reputation, that of the devil-may-care-rogue, but where Will was always cooed over by the society mamas because of his charm and wit, Killian had always been treated much more suspect. At least until he came into the title.

But Killian knew the man was sharp as a whip, and he had long suspected there was quite a bit of substance underneath Will’s always jovial exterior. If there was anyone in Emma’s family who might accurately guess Killian’s true feelings for Emma, it was Will.

Killian intended to share one drink with the man and leave.

“Fine evening, don’t you think?” Will asked, motioning for their drinks once Killian was settled in his seat, pretending to be comfortable. “Aside from Cassidy, obviously. He’s nothing but an ass.”

Of course, Killian agreed with the sentiment, but with Will watching him so carefully - even under the guise of friendly conversation - he could manage no more than a terse nod. Will cocked his head to the side just a bit and narrowed his eyes slightly. Almost as if to get a deeper look into his soul. Killian fought the urge to squirm.

“Thank you for defending Emma’s honor,” Will said quietly.

Killian didn’t know what he expected Will to say to him, but it certainly wasn’t that. It was his place to defend her honor, just as it would have been if any of the Nolan brothers had heard Cassidy’s despicable words.

“Emma deserves respect,” Killian replied, equally as quietly as their drinks arrived. Killian gave a nod of appreciation and took a sip. “I will not countenance anything less. From anyone.”

There was silence for a moment between the two men as they sipped their drinks.

“You could marry her, you know,” Will said easily. Killian nearly choked.

“I beg your pardon?” Killian was sputtering. Killian never sputtered.

“Marry her,” he repeated, moving forward just a bit, his gaze intense.

Killian realized it was too much to hope that Will was referring to anyone else except Emma, but he had to try.

“And who am I supposed to marry?”

The look on Will’s face was condescending in the extreme, mixed with a fair amount of pity as well. “Do we really need to play this game?”

“I can’t marry Emma!” he exclaimed.

“And why not?” He looked honestly puzzled and Killian felt his jaw opening and closing, not a word coming out of it.

“Because…” he trailed away, completely at a loss. Because that one simple statement made Killian realize that he could marry Emma. There was nothing illegal about it. There was only his own damn conscience. The conscience that maintained there was everything immoral about it.

She’d been married to his brother. The brother whose death gave him money, power, prestige, and a title. And if he compounded the utter betrayal of his brother - loving his wife - by then stealing her for his own, didn’t that mean he had somehow wished for Liam’s death?

And how could he possibly live with himself then?

Will sat back in his chair, his dark eyes still on Killian, watching and cataloging every muscle twitch, every eye movement, every emotion Killian was too shocked to keep hidden that worked their way across his face.

Will waved his hand dismissively, but without looking away. “I can see it’s a moot point anyway.”

That brought Killian’s swirling thoughts to an abrupt halt. There was something in the tone of his voice. Something biting and provoking. He met Will’s stare with his own, searching for clues as to the other man’s agenda. “And why is that?” he bit out.

Will took his time answering. He toyed with his glass, took a small sip, and continued to scrutinize Killian.

“Why is it a moot point?” Will finally repeated, his eyebrow raising in intrigue, just like Emma’s sometimes did. “Because you’re so clearly not interested in marrying her.”

Killian’s mouth opened for a quick, biting retort, but he shut it just as quickly when he realized he’d been about to say, Of course, I am.

He’d very nearly confessed the deepest desire of his heart to the brother of his beloved. And as he searched Will’s face, he knew that the man had somehow seen into the depths of his heart and mind and knew precisely how Killian felt about his sister.

“I must be going,” Killian blurted out, finishing his drink and rising to his feet.

“Of course,” Will said, affably. As if their conversation had been about nothing more important than the weather. “Think about what I said,” he murmured, as Killian strode purposefully toward the door.

As if he’d be able to think about anything else. For the rest of his life.

~*~*~

Thank you for reading and sharing! New ch will be up Wednesday!

#a scoundrel... or a gentleman?#krystal writes #inspired by francesca bridgerton's story #banner by snowbellewells #ch art by motherkatereloyshipper

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queersrus · 7 months

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astronomy witch theme

(nick)names:

astra, astro, astre, astera, astel/astelle, astella, ariel, aura, aurora, aurore, aure, aurelie/auralie, auralia/aurelia, atlas, aristar, aries, altair, astreaus, aether, apollo, apolla, artemis bila, boreals, boreal comet, cosma, cosmic, cosmo, celest/celeste, celestia, celestio, callisto, calypso, Cassiopeia, claudius, caelum, caelus, cassio dusk, dawn estel/estell/estelle, estella, elera, elio, esther, eclipse, eclipsa, eclipso, eostre, eos galaxy, galactica, galactico, galactix, galactic, galacta, galaxius hecate/hekate, helios, hemera, hera iris, ira juno, jupiter, janus kepler, keyra/kayra lune, luna/loona, lunar, luno, lunette, lyra moon, moona, mars/marz, miranda, meno nova, nix/nyx, nox, nuit pandora, pallas, pulsar, pollux rhea stel/stell/stelle, stella, steller/stellar, star, stella, stary/starie, sol, soleil, solar, solette, solina, solana, solace, solstice tian vesper, vega xian zorya

surnames:

astra, ayla, airy, array, aquila, antlia estrela/estrella, eddington, eridanus kepler, kuiper herschel, halley, hale, hypatia, hevelius drake starcatcher, starwatch, stargaze(r), starlight, scorpius, spellman Cassiopeia orion ursa delphi, delphius pictor fortune le fay/fe/faye nightingale, nighwatch, nightmoon moon brightmoon gloom, gloam

titles:

the witch of the stars, the witch who studies the stars, the star watch, the astronomer, the witch, the astronomer witch, the stellar witch, the witch who knows the sky, the witch of the night sky

(prn) who knows the stars, (prn) who studdies the stars, (prn) who knows the magic of the stars, (prn) who practices witchcraft in starligh, (prn) who studdies magic by starlight

1st p: i/me/my/mine/myself

si/star/stars/starself sti/stell/stellars/stellarself ai/astre/astros/astroself ai/astronome/astronomy/astronomine/astronomyself wi/witch/witches/witch's/witchself wy/witch/witchs/witchself ci/conste/consteli/constellations/constellationself mi/magi/magics/magicself

2nd p: you/your/yours/yourself

sto/star/stars/starself sto/steller/stellers/stellerself astro/astr/astrs/astrself astro/astronomer/astronomers/astronomerself wo/witcher/witchers/witcherself co/consteller/constellers/constellerself mo/magicr/magicrs/magicrself

3rd p: they/them/theirs/themself

star/stars, sta/ar, star/stary, stary/sky, stary/night, star/light stell/stella, stell/a, stel/la, stell/steller, steller/stellers, stellar/stellars astro/astros, astro/astronomy, astro/nomy, astro/nomer, astro/astronomer, astronomy/astronomys, astronomy/astronomer constellation/constellations, constell/constellation, constell/ation wit/ch, witch/witches, wit/witch, wi/witch, witch/witchy, witch/craft, witchcraft/witchcrafts magic/magics, ma/gic, magic/magical

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polyacotarweek · 2 months

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Day 3 Masterlist: Secrets

Fanfic

"The Fawn of Prythian, Ch 1-3" by @witch-and-her-witcher (Eluzriel)

"Burning in the Starlight" by @starfall-spirit (Feysandris)

"Embers In The Wind, Ch 3: Rocks Under Tide" by @chunkypossum (Nerissian)

"Stairway Snoops" by @acourtofladydeath (Ariel X Nesta X Eris X Cassian)

"Secrets" by @littlestw01f (OC X Rhysand X Eris)

"Spring Time Affairs" by @nocasdatsgay (OC X Tamlin X Elain X Lucien)

"Love Drunk" by @tsunami-of-tears (Reader x Cazriel)

"Nexus Being" by @danikamariewrites (Reader X Cazriel)

"His, Yours, Mine" by @readychilledwine (Reader X Bat Boys)

Fanart

"Feytamsand" by @copypastus

If your creation is missing or you see an issue with the masterlist, please reach out to the blog so we can rectify it!

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unsettlingcreature · 1 year

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literally spawned this from listening to the musical while thinking about my blorbos. i think this is my first time properly trying to draw kaidan and it's without his iconic warpaint 😭 i really hope he's still recognisable

#skyrim #heathers #skyrim oc #kaidan 2 #my art #ch: arielle

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isabelpsaroslunnen · 6 months

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Dealing with my general apathy and lack of thoughts by re-making my Pathfinder character graphic for the remaster:

#isabel talks #isabel's pictures #ye olde photoshoppe #ch: ariel runelerin #game: pathfinder #ttrpgs

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amaretigris · 2 months

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Knock-down, Drag-out

Taglist: @luna2034 @mylittlemermaid221 @notagreekgal28 @hopeisrising @freyagallileaevans @justagirlthatlovedtoread @daydreamerwithnohobbies

A/n: There is a trigger warning for this chapter. The reader talks about a call she worked. It sucks but this is actually based on a true story. A previous coworker of mine was an EMT and responded to a call like this. EMTs are heroes guys! ❤️

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Ch. 4 | 1.7k words | Angst

TRIGGER WARNING: Mentions of head injury/death of a child

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Groaning and throwing your head back in frustration, you felt tears prick your eyes. You were ready to leave. You didn't want to wait. Ariel grimaced, but stayed quiet. She seemed at a loss for words. You weren't directing your anger at her. You knew it wasn't her fault. You'd just had a hell of a day, and your bed was practically calling your name.

You stood there, leaning against the counter with your arms crossed, observing cars exiting the parking lot. You wished you could be doing the same. You huffed a breath.

"Everything alright, (Y/N)?"

Jonah's voice snapped you out of your daze. You turned to see him in a black hoodie and grey sweatpants with his gym bag over his shoulder. You gulped and nodded. You were able to grab your envelope from Ariel now, and Jonah followed you out the double doors.

He got right to the point.

"Whose blood is that?"

You looked down at your shirt.

"Don't worry, it's not mine. We had a bad call today. It was a kid," you cleared your throat as tears welled up.

"Are you okay, (Y/N)?"

You started to nod your head, staring at the ground, but you shook it instead.

"No. It was hard. The kid hit his head. There was so much blood. He was pronounced dead at the scene," you choked out before the tears spilled over.

You halted your steps and brought your hands to your eyes. You didn't want Jonah to see you cry. The immense stress and pressure from the last week at work, topped off with the events of today, was enough to break the dam.

You sobbed for a moment before you felt strong arms encapsulate you. Jonah pulled you into his chest, settling his chin on your head. He let you sob for a few minutes while he stayed silent. When you started to quiet down, he began gently rubbing your back.

"I know that it's easy for me to say that it's okay, (Y/N), even though you know it's not. Unfortunately, there are things we just can't control. You did your best, and that's what matters. You've had a rough week. I mean, you were just assaulted yourself last weekend. I know it's hard, but you're incredible. You're great at your job, and you better other people's lives. It's okay to sulk and let your feelings out, but when you're done with that, remember to focus on all the good that you do."

Sniffling and leaning into Jonah's chest, you listened to his kind words. You didn't want to leave his embrace. It felt so comfortable, and almost familiar. Reluctantly pushing yourself back, you pulled some tissue out of your bag to wipe your nose. Great, you were a blubbering mess in front of one of the hottest guys you'd ever seen. Jonah let you clean yourself up, using your arm to guide you the few feet ahead to your car. He ducked his head down to level his eyes with yours.

"Do you feel a little better?"

You nodded.

"Yes. Thank you for saying that Jonah. It means a lot. I love what I do, but it takes a toll. Kind of like what you do, I guess," you laughed.

Jonah shrugged.

"Getting pummeled is easier than that any day," he admitted.

"At least your work actually means something."

You looked up at his kind blue eyes.

"You inspire people. That means something."

Jonah chuckled.

"Yeah, well, I don't know about all that."

"Then why do you do it?"

Jonah looked from side to side at your question, like he was seeing who all was around.

"I don't usually tell people up here," he scrubbed the back of his neck.

"Why not?"

"Because," he sighed.

"I don't want them to pity me or look at me like I'm some charity case," he shoved his hands into his hoodie.

You took a step toward him, delicately placing your hand on his jacket sleeve.

"It's okay, you can tell me," you whispered.

Jonah huffed a breath and crossed his arms over his chest. The move almost looked defensive to you as you withdrew your hand.

"My mom's sick. Her treatments and medication are very expensive. Her health insurance recently dropped her because of it. So I do fights here on the weekends, and overtime at my regular job to scrounge up some extra money."

You nodded, holding his gaze.

"I'm sorry. I know that must be hard."

Jonah shook his head and looked down.

"Don't do that. Don't pity me."

Your hand found his arm again and you urged him to look at you. His blue orbs reluctantly pulled back up to yours.

"I don't pity you. I'm showing you the same kindness you showed me. I lost my father when I was young. It's not easy, and some people don't understand that kind of pain, but death is a natural part of life. As much as we hate it, and as unfair as it can be. You're putting in the effort while your mom's still here, and that means more to her than you know. Most people don't care until it's too late."

Jonah loosened his arms, and let his mouth fall open. He approached you, stepping you back until you were against your car.

"God. There's something about you, (Y/N)," he reached his hand up to tuck a strand of your hair behind your ear.

"I can't put my finger on it. You're just different."

His eyes landed on your lips, and you licked them nervously.

"So are you. I don't think you fit into the stereotypical cage fighter persona."

Jonah smiled, the motion drawing your gaze. He paused for a moment, like he was making a decision. Reaching past you, he opened up your car door.

"Go home and get some rest, (Y/N). You've earned it."

You blinked back up at Jonah, and smiled back at him.

"Thanks. I'll see you next weekend," you said as you swooped under Jonah's arm to throw your bag in your car, and climb in.

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

For the next month, you were a little too excited to return to the arena every weekend. You told yourself that it was because you were becoming more familiar with the place and making friends; but in the back of your mind, you knew that was bullshit.

Every Saturday night, you waited at the front desk for Jonah to walk you to your car. You learned that his regular job was at a fitness center where he was an Exercise Physiologist. Jonah grew up watching fighting on tv with his father, before he up and left Jonah and his mother. He didn't seem too beat up about that. Jonah naturally gravitated towards fighting as a form of stress relief in high school, and eventually got to the level he's at now.

Jonah asked about your hobbies and interests. You told him that you liked art, movies, and concerts, but that you rarely had the time or energy for any of those anymore. Jonah said you should still try to make time for them.

Each Saturday night, you wanted to kiss Jonah. You thought that maybe he wanted to kiss you, too. But each Saturday night, he pulled away. He hadn't initiated anymore physical touch like he did the night you broke down. Perhaps he just knew you really needed it then. You could understand that, but you were still left disappointed all the same.

Was Jonah seeing someone that he wasn't telling you about?

Were you not his type?

Had you misinterpreted his kindness?

Did he think you were too emotional?

All of these questions bounced around in your head when he turned away from you every Saturday night. Driving home to quickly shower, and laying down in your bed, you stared at your ceiling. What was it about this guy? You hadn't been this hung up on a man since you finished college. You'd been too busy focusing on your career. Why, all of a sudden, did you want to make sure to look pretty on Saturdays? Groaning and throwing your arm over your eyes, you willed yourself to sleep.

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

The next Saturday night, you stood at the desk waiting for Jonah to come to walk you out. Tapping your fingers in no particular pattern, you were visibly nervous.

"Hey (Y/N), you ready?"

You turned to face Jonah.

"Oh, it's okay. You don't have to walk me every time. I know you probably want to get home, so I asked Seb to tonight."

You reached into your bag, and pulled out a pamphlet.

"Here, I got this from my hospital to give to you. You should look into it," you pressed your lips into a thin line, and avoided eye contact.

You saw Seb at that exact moment, so you slid past Jonah to join him at his side.

"Bye Ariel, see you next weekend," you waved before exiting with Seb.

The walk to your car was quiet. When you reached it, you turned to thank Seb, and climbed in. You had just started your car when a rap on your window almost gave you a heart attack. Pressing your hand to your chest, you rolled it down, and turned to see who the hell startled you. You were met with Jonah's serious expression.

"What was that?"

You pinched your brow.

"What was what?"

Jonah sighed.

"Why did you want Seb to walk you instead of me?"

Your grip on your steering wheel loosened, and you started to fidget, getting nervous.

"I didn't want him to. I just don't want you to feel obligated to do it every time," you shrugged.

"Is that it?"

You hesitated.

"What do you mean?"

"Is that the only reason?"

You nodded.

"Yes. Well, I mean, yes."

Jonah didn't look convinced.

"Did I do something wrong?"

Your eyes widened.

"No," you waved your hands.

"No, you definitely didn't do anything wrong. It's just that, when you walk me to my car, I like talking to you. I like being around you. I know that you're doing it to be nice, and that it doesn't mean anything. I just don't want to let myself get the wrong idea, if that makes sense," you grimaced, darting your eyes away from his piercing ones.

"Like what?"

Your eyes involuntarily snapped back to him at that.

He reiterated his question.

"You don't want to let yourself get the wrong idea, like what?"

You gulped.

"Like the idea that you might like being around me, too, I guess."

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man-moth-hook-hand · 11 months

Text

Welcome to My Nightmare Ch. 5

A/N: I didn't mean for this to take a whole month, but I was confused on what direction to drive the story. I wanted to introduce the boys earlier, but I wanted to make it believe so that the rest of the story made sense. I hope you like it! :) and don't worry, some spice might be coming in the next chapet ;)

Masterlist

Chapter Five: Always Something There to Remind Me

“So, who are you riding with?” Paul winked at me.

I looked at one of the other boys, a blonde, like Paul. This one didn’t have huge hair, and instead sported curls framing his statue-like face. He didn’t move, exactly like a statue. Next to him was the dark haired man spying on me and Adam. Under eye bags, no shirt, a weird hodge podge of items for an excuse of a necklace, and to tie it all in a child around maybe nine or ten clinging to him. I didn’t want to ride with the man in a trenchcoat, he looked like he had something underneath there. Thankfully, the girl decided to ride with him.

“I suppose you.” I said to Paul which earned a few laughs from the other men. It felt like I was the world and they were the four horsemen of the apocalypse, waiting to destroy my mind and body. I climbed on the back of Paul’s bike and tried to make myself comfortable. It was a little difficult since he was much taller and had a rat’s nest for hair.

Paul yelled and I felt myself surge backwards. I tightened my grip on Paul so as to not fall off. I had a feeling he wouldn't exactly stop right away if I fell. The other boys yelled like a pack of wolves to wherever we were going. The ride wasn’t exactly the smoothest, I learned that Paul liked to ride over the bigger dunes as they made him fly into the air. It also flung sand into my eyes causing me to be blind the entire trip.

Once we had stopped moving, I figured it was safe enough to wipe the sand from my eyes. I looked like a mess, or I thought I did. My hair felt out of place, tears formed from the irritation around my eyes, and snot trailed around me. I truly feel like a piece of garbage.

I stared at these boys, then at me, then the girl. These boys mixed together whatever clothing they could find, yet hers were cohesive. I could tell the boys didn’t do anything to themselves, at least she put in some effort. I found myself feeling guilty for looking worse. I realized that these boys didn’t look any better, just that they were accepted to look bad, even as the rejects they were. The girl, even though a reject by association, still adorned herself in flowy skirts and jewels.

“Hey!” Paul snapped his fingers in my face. “You there?”

“Yeah,” I stuttered, “Just lost in thought.” My mind hadn’t really been able to focus on what was happening at the moment, and instead chose to ramble over something rather not important. Maybe I just needed to sleep. I had a feeling I would be sleeping forever after this visit.

“Let me help you.” Paul fixed my hair as best as he could, then offered a bandana out of his jacket pocket as a peace offering for the ride. “Better?” He asked, I took the bandana in reply. I followed them to a thin, wooden staircase that descended into the depths below. I felt like I was going to break the wooden steps, yet everybody else had no problem walking on the rickey death traps.

I felt relief once we reached the end. It quickly ended once I saw what was before me. A cave, they literally were taking me to a cave to die. How dignified. Once reaching the inside of the cave, I noticed that it was much more civilized. These boys had decorated the inside with fishing lures, graffiti on the ceiling, shiny things I couldn’t identify, and enough candles to have a ritual. It was oddly marveling. It was beautiful in a trashy way. Like Ariel decorating her cave of wonders.

“Sit.” The white haired man demanded, “Where ever you like.” He purposely fell into a wheelchair behind him.

“Next to me?” The one with the weird jacked suggested. “My name is Marko by the way.”

“That’s a nice name.” I sat next to him, in between Michael and the trench coat. “I’m (Y/N)” I stuck out my hand.

“That’s also a nice name,” he smiled, “That’s David, Dwayne, Laddie, and Star.” He pointed to everyone, respectively.

“Those are nice names.” I said.

“You always repeat everything you say?” Marko joked with me.

“No, Sorry. I’m just really tired. I had a bad dream.” I explained. Paul chuckeled.

“So, Michael, you didn’t tell us about your sister.” David interrogated him.

“I don’t have a sister.” Michael laughed.

“Your little lady friend?” David teased.

Michael nervously glanced at Star. I guess she was under the impression I was Michael’s Girlfriend. “No, Uh. . . My mom picked her up on the side of the road.”

David made a noise of conformation. “You hungry, (Y/N)?” he asked me.

“Uh, um.”

“Marko, why don’t you get some Chinese?” David said, it earned a laugh from the rest of the boys.

He came back much quicker than I thought he would’ve. Marko, the curly haired man with what seems like a thrift store for a jacket, handed me a white carton with some red Chinese building on it. I opened it with hesitation, wondering if there was some sick joke to be played. It didn’t seem like it would be out of character for these boys. Rice. Just rice. Just rice? Yes, just rice.

“How are those maggots?” David gestured towards Michael.

Michael spat out the rice onto the floor as if it really were maggots. This earned a bout of laughter from the crowd.

“No hard feelings?” David handed Michael another container. “How are your maggots (Y/N)?”

I looked down into the carton to see wriggling fly larva. A minute ago it had been rice. Panic had begun to arise in my throat. I looked at the gaggle of men in front of me, they awaited an answer. I focused back on the rice – maggots, I mean. I didn't have a fork. I was delirious and tired. I scooped some of the mystery food in between my fingers and devoured what pointless lives they had. I imagined someone doing the same for me. Hopefully the rice-maggots didn’t feel pain. They weren't even maggots anyway, just rice.

They continued to stare at me. The maggots had reformed magically into rice again. I knew I was tired. Of course I was. I’m just paranoid.

“So it was good.” David plainly said. He then whispered something to Marko, in response he brought a Halloween decoration bottle full of red liquid. Or perhaps the bottle made it look red.

Star moved behind Michael immediately. David prompted Michael to drink some of the mystery fluid. Star inturn pleaded but I don’t think Michael listened. The boys hollered in delight at whatever Michael had done, which was probably drink from the mystery liquid.

I continued to scoop rice into my mouth. Tears formed in the corners of my eyes. Snot threatened to gush from my nostrils. I abruptly stood up, drawing attention to myself. I began to make my way out of the cave, robotically, almost slipping on the spilled rice. I don’t remember if they called or if it was my imagination.

I must’ve walked my way home. I don’t even remember getting into bed, obvious by my unchanged clothes. Thank god I didn’t work today, I would've been 4 hours late. The house was quiet, save for Sam playing with Nanook in the yard. I flipped over onto my back and closed my eyes, listening to the sounds around me.

Nanook’s bark. The silence of the house. A clock ticking somewhere. The old man’s footsteps creaking up to a room.

The warm water from the shower, paired with the darkness, felt oddly comforting since I had developed a fear of the dark. I washed every part of me I could think of. I felt dirty, tainted even, since being around those boys. Something was off about them, I couldn't tell for sure. Maybe I should take this time to relax and just take care of myself. I had been neglecting myself for sure.

I decided to head my way into Michael’s room, perhaps he would have answers about last night. He was conveniently asleep when I opened the door. As I made my way back into my room, the ringing of the phone paired with Sam’s yelling got my attention.

“Michael!” he shouted, “Mom’s on the phone for you!”

I poorly maneuvered my way back into the threshold of Michael’s room. As I opened the door, I caught the brothers arguing about sunglasses or something stupid.

“-Sam is always alone. It’s been a long time since someone’s invited me to dinner. I’d like to go.” Lucy begged Michael.

“Ok, mom.” Michael softly replied.

“I don’t need a babysitter, Mike.” Sam was utterly insulted at the fact that he needed to be supervised.

“Sammy, it’s not my choice to watch you.” Michael noticed me in the doorway. “What?”

“Can I talk to you? Privately?” I motioned to Sam to leave.

“Ew!” Sam responded while making kissy faces on his way out.

“Um,” I began. This was more nerve racking than I thought. “What happened last night? I kinda remember, but after I left. . . I don’t know. I can’t really remember anything.”

“Well. . . I drank their booze, you left, and we just kinda hung out.” He explained.

“Oh, so nothing bad happened?”

Micahel shot me a confused look. “Bad?”

“Yeah, bad. I kinda had been having some nightmares I guess, and I just thought. . . maybe.” I shook my head. “It’s nothing important.”

“Maybe you’re paranoid. Did you get any sleep?” Michael says.

“No. Did you?” I looked at him with pity.

“Nah.”

/|\^._.^/|\

I shouldn’t be doing this. I had found myself in the midst of the Boardwalk in hopes to find the men from last night. It was surprisingly difficult considering how weird they looked last night. I had hoped Paul was here, even if he probably wasn’t safe anymore.

A hand grabbed my shoulder from behind. I ducked and spun around, knocking into a few pedestrians behind me. I landed a punch into the man’s face. My eyes began to water, but the stinging from my knuckles had made me realize what I’d done. There stood before me a blonde man, curly hair, mixed together prints for a jacket, and blood trailing from his lips. He stared at me for a moment before my body decided to make a break for it.

It was nauseating. What was once a safe, intoxicating environment, quickly turned into a maze of bumping into people, screams of terror instead of laughter, and the overwhelming sense that I can’t get away. I was trapped, and once the boardwalk was closed it would be the end of me. However, I reached the end of the boardwalk before it closed. There was nothing between me and death now, just the empty abyss of the quiet night.

I was faint, my heart working over time due to the panic. My breathing became erratic, sweat prominent on my forehead. I scanned the surrounding areas for any source of cover. Nothing.

He appeared in front of me, like some kind of angel of death. I backed up, he grabbed my arms.

“I think you should come with me.” He said. I shook my head no, tears and snot were making their way down my chin. “I’m not gonna hurt you.” he said. I felt oddly calm after that. I couldn’t understand why. I didn’t want to be calm, but it’s like I didn’t have any other choice.

Marko grabbed my hand and led me to where the rest of the boys and Paul were. Paul grinned, the other two were a bit suspicious.

“Are you gonna kill me?” I blurted out. Paul seemed shocked while Dwayne and David didn’t speak.

“Why wouldn’t you? You’re the creepy guys hanging outside my window. Following me. Trying to roofie me in your weird hideout.” I shot at them,

“You think it’s us following you? The Boardwalk is open to anyone, doll.” David said. “Plus, you went with us after your boyfriend dumped you.”

“Micahel was never my boyfriend, and you know what I’m talking about. You were outside my window.” I accused them. It had to be them, there was no denying that. I always felt watched then they mysteriously showed up. The faces that plagued me in my nightmares were all too familiar. They even followed me to my house and spied on me. They were the crazy ones, not me.

“No we weren't. We brought you over to talk to you, especially because of last night. You were the one who just left after we invited you to our space. Not the other way around.” David pointed to me. He was partially right, I didn’t have to go with them, Michael chose to leave me there in hopes he could get his dick wet. It wasn’t their fault.

“Sorry,” I apologized. “I’ve just been having a rough couple of days.

“That’s ok.” Paul interjected. “I mean like, we're still friends, if you wanted to talk we could.”

“We just want to talk to you, we really do.” Marko put his hand on my shoulder in a comforting way. “Any friend of Paul is a friend of ours.”

“We were just messing with Michael last night, our intention wasn’t to upset you.” David puffed out of his cigarette.

“Seriously, man. We were just messing with Micahel.” Paul slapped me on the shoulder. “So what do ya say? Friends?”

I felt pressured to say yes, which is probably why I agreed to let them take me somewhere. I hope Michael and Sam were having a better time than me.

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