#or if it was a much longer story and a chapter or two included this

[neptuneiris]

could you pretend to be in love? (07/10)

To Dragonstone / Lovers

pairing: modern!aemond × fem!reader (fake dating)

summary: the trip to Dragonstone arrives and things between you and Aemond may remain distant or may take a big turn. you are sure of your feelings but does he feel the same way?

word count: 8.4k

previous part • series masterlist

hello!

even i'm surprised that i updated and it didn't take me two or almost three weeks, but here it is!

i'm so happy for the recognition the story is getting, truly, thank you so much beautiful people, i hope you like this chapter a lot too. i'm looking forward to your comments!

After what happened… there was a total change of behavior between you and Aemond.

Even that same day after he didn't drop you off at your house because you told him that Alysanne would be the one to drive you, that night he texted you that there was a party at one of his friend's house.

You didn't reply right away, you just watched the message appear on the top of your screen silently and did nothing.

And after a few minutes he texted you again telling you that if you didn't want to go with him, he was fine with it. And you just texted him back a short; have fun!

But still, you couldn't help but feel completely different, with this strange feeling and a knot in your stomach at having this distance with him.

But he didn't text you again for anything else.

Even also on that same day you saw Helaena, who told you again how sorry she and her mother were still. You also saw Aegon, but he just kept walking, acting completely unconcerned and as if the dinner had never happened.

And now, with things weird and distant with Aemond, today is the trip to Dragonstone.

You assume that you and Aemond will continue to pretend, since there was never a definitive statement where both he and you said you would no longer pretend. But since that night he told you about the party, he and you haven't spoken again.

There's really no plan for the trip. You don't even know if he and you will do this together, as a couple. You just don't know anything.

But you recognize that the two of you made a contract that includes the Dragonstone trip and also ending the fake relationship until graduation. So you prepare yourself despite the circumstances.

Besides you won't be alone, as Alysanne has also signed up for the trip, who just now is keeping you updated on all the things going on in her life as you both drag your respective suitcases along.

"But I don't know if I should say yes to him yet."

You let out a sigh, already feeling tired as you feel the weight of everything in your suitcase. But you can't really blame yourself because it's an all-weekend trip to the beach, so you should have brought everything you needed.

"To who?" you ask with the breath you're gathering, as you tighten your grip on your suitcase.

"Didn't you hear everything I said?" she inquires, "To Cregan."

"Ah… and why don't you know?"

"Well, you know…" she gives you a knowing look, "I don't know, he seems too perfect to me and there must be something wrong with him," she raises her index finger at you, "And he's too popular for my liking."

You frown, still walking as she does, heading toward the buses in the school parking lot that will take you all to Kings Landing port.

"Wait," you say confused, "So he already asked you out?" you look at her slightly surprised, struggling to keep up.

"Yeah," she says casually, "But I don't know."

"Oh come on," you look at her serious, "He's very nice, handsome, funny and a gentleman."

But she grimaces, showing her skepticism.

"Not exactly my type."

You roll your eyes, amused.

Then you both stop behind a line of people waiting to board one of the buses while one of the teachers notes on a list the students' attendance by asking for first and last name, so you have to wait.

"I think you should go out with him," you say, turning to look at her.

"Uhh…" she stares into the void, thoughtfully and doubtfully, "I don't know, bestie."

"He's a good match," you try to convince her, encouraged, "Besides he's already completely crazy about you."

"That's the problem," she sentences, "I'm not looking for a serious relationship right now. It seems better to me that we both just go out, have fun together and nothing else, no strings attached."

"He probably won't refuse the idea," you shrug, "But tell him and don't leave him waiting with his hopes high."

She snorts, gesturing with her hand.

"He's a man. I'm sure he can handle me never giving him an answer."

You let out a laugh.

"Don't be mean, Alysanne."

"What?" she looks at you innocently.

"Come on, you can do better than that."

"No, I don't think so."

You both let out a laugh now and are about to say something else to him, when a third voice interrupts you in conversation.

"Y/N?"

The two turn their heads and walking towards you, it's Aemond, with a somewhat unsure and nervous posture, which is totally unusual for him, but he's still watching you completely attentively.

He's wearing a white t-shirt and a black jacket over it, which makes him look ridiculously good for a common outfit. But what also catches your attention is how he has a silver chain sticking out from around his neck.

And God… why are you suddenly so nervous about being in front of him?

"Do you have a minute?"

You look uncertainly at him and then at Alysanne, having no idea what to say, further increasing your nerves.

"Hum—

"Go," Alysanne says to you, "I'll wait in line for both of us."

"Oh… all right."

You reply, smiling a little in her direction, only to walk over to Aemond and both of you step back a little so you can talk more privately.

And it's at that moment that your heart starts beating like crazy and you bite your lips, crossing your arms over your chest, nervous and a little… embarrassed.

"Listen," he starts to say, in a low and soft voice, "I just want to say that I'm really sorry for the way I reacted the other day," he tells you sincerely, "I'm sure I made you feel uncomfortable and to some extent trapped but believe me that was never my intention. Nor was it my intention for things to get weird between us."

"Yeah, yeah, I understand, don't worry," you nod, trying to hide your nerves and trying to look unconcerned, you too wanting to put this behind you, "I'm sorry too for trying to end it all that way."

"No, it's not okay," he assures you, "I just didn't understand anything and got frustrated," he admits to you gently, "And that wasn't right of me. Now I know how overwhelmed you must have felt with everything that happened."

"I-I guess I got scared and that was the easiest way I could think of to end it all when that wasn't right on my part either. After all… we have a contract—

"The contract thing doesn't matter," he interrupts you with a nonchalant gesture, placing a comforting hand on your shoulder, "The important thing is that we're both okay and that we don't distance ourselves from each other."

You nod in agreement, feeling a sense of relief at hearing his words.

"Yeah, you're right."

"So… everything good?" he asks you completely attentively.

"Yes, all good," you assure, wanting to put any misunderstandings behind you.

He is about to say something when one of his friends calls out to him from the line to board the bus.

"Aemond!"

You both turn your heads and his friend along with the teacher in charge watch him intently from the bus doors.

"I need to see your signed permission form, son," the teacher tells him.

He nods and goes back to watching you.

"I'll see you inside," he says before walking away towards his friend and you nod.

You walk back with Alysanne to the line and watch Aemond just a few feet in front of you, talking to the professor, and then he and his friend carry their bags up to the bottom compartments of the bus, eventually moving up the line.

And God… this is the sense of relief you so desperately needed to finally feel. Knowing that you're going to do this with Aemond, all about Dragonstone, relieves and excites you.

However, you should have assumed that even then things would get weird, because the feeling doesn't last long when you see Floris approach Aemond and the two of them start talking.

At first you don't think anything of it, but then, you see the way Floris approaches and behaves towards him.

A tingle of jealousy begins to bubble deep in your stomach as you watch the two of them talk. You also watch as some students watch the two of them and then you, standing apart, with curious and mischievous looks, surely waiting for the drama.

It's as if everyone knows what Aemond and Floris once were, only to then watch you, the new girlfriend, fade into the background after Floris has returned to school.

And Aemond's behavior towards you comes back to your mind.

He himself told you that he did not expect to see her again, so on another plane and in other circumstances, if Floris had not left the school, you are absolutely sure that Aemond would have required her help, totally.

And this between him and you would never have happened.

And maybe… Aemond is still interested in Floris, just as she seems to be still interested in him. But he can't do anything about it because he already has an agreement with you, he's stuck with you.

This relationship is fake, remember?

Your mind tells you, since for Aemond it's not real, but rather pure convenience, just an act, but for you… it's getting harder and harder to ignore the feelings that arise inside you.

Is it possible that your feelings are more real than you have allowed yourself to believe?

You watch as Aemond seems to want to subtly pull away from her to have his own space, but Floris moves closer again, as if they both share something that only the two of them know and that's why she has the confidence, even though he has a girlfriend, to act that way with him.

Which only makes you more annoyed and jealous.

But finally the line starts to move forward and you decide you won't give it any more thought. What's the point of worrying about something that, in theory, isn't real?

You board the bus behind Alysanne, where everything inside is full of excitement and energy, with students talking and laughing as they settle into their seats.

Then your gaze almost instantly meets Aemond's as you look at the seats, sitting in one of the first seats with the seat next to him empty, watching you intently and with a small smile on his lips, clearly waiting for you.

The temptation to go sit next to him is strong, but you decide to ignore it and keep walking behind Alysanne, passing him. And that instantly makes him react.

"Hey, hey," he quickly stands up and gently takes you by the arm, watching you with his soft gaze reflecting bewilderment, "Where are you going?"

Your nerves dissipate and you try to come up with a good excuse.

"Hum… you know, to sit with Alysanne," you point to your friend.

He follows your gaze but frowns, confused.

"But don't you think we should sit together?"

You stay silent for a few seconds, watching him intently and nervous, trying to come up with a better excuse. But he speaks again, trying to convince you.

"I packed snacks for both of us on the way and thought maybe we could watch a movie or something."

"Maybe on the way back," you say with an apologetic look, feeling the weight of his gaze on you.

And he frowns slightly, his gaze reflecting a mixture of disappointment and confusion as he tries to understand your behavior.

The two of you a few moments ago spoke, the two of you apologized to each other and you especially said that everything was okay or not? That's what keeps him confused, not understanding why the two of you are suddenly continuing this distancing, noticing your efforts to pull away from him.

"Come on," he insists, "Let Cregan sit with her."

"I'm sorry, Aemond," you say, "But I promised her I'd sit with her."

He seems to want to argue back, but you waste no more time and finally walk past him, moving away from him straight toward Alysanne in one of the seats almost at the back.

Aemond with a serious look sighs resignedly, feeling the disappointment inside, confused and with disillusion, not really understanding anything.

And when you arrive together with Alysanne, just as you take your seat, you look back to where Aemond is with a worried look and at that moment Floris appears, stopping in front of him with a small sweet smile on her lips.

"Will someone sit here?" she asks politely even though she already knows the answer, her tone with a familiarity that makes you stir in your seat.

Aemond turns his gaze back to you with a mixed expression of seriousness and disappointment before answering Floris.

"No," he replies with some annoyance, dropping back into his seat with a droopy attitude.

Floris complacently takes a seat next to him and you watch everything from afar, telling yourself that this is all a bad idea, with a swirl of emotions all over you.

So all the way to King's Landing port begins, where you distract yourself listening to music and avoid looking towards the seats where Aemond is with Floris.

At all times you feel this uncertainty and this unpleasant feeling that does not leave you in peace, even makes you feel sad, but Alysanne by your side manages to distract you in some moments.

Until you finally arrive at the port and in organized groups, the teachers make sure that all the students board the ferry that goes directly to Dragonstone.

Everyone around you starts taking pictures and videos of the wonderful view the ferry offers of Blackwater Bay, excited to get to Dragonstone.

And you start looking for Aemond with your eyes, finding him leaning on the ferry's railing with one of his friends next to him, both talking, but he has a more thoughtful expression as he gazes out at the ocean.

Despite being surrounded by people and his friends especially, he is distant. And you know he's like this because of you.

For one reason he asked to talk to you and clear up what happened between the two of you. You assured him that everything was fine and then pushed him away.

But can you really blame yourself?

You're fucking scared.

And for a reason Floris acts that way with him, because whatever there once was between the two of them, it's not over yet, you can feel it. And you have no right to reproach him for that because this is not real.

Still… it's better for you to start slowly pulling away from him and put on a show when it's really necessary. But how will you be able to do this together when things are like this?

That's why the uncomfortable feeling on the bus persists and Alysanne tries to distract you by taking pictures of the view, a selfie of the two of you together or by herself.

But despite these efforts, you can't stop thinking about Aemond and watching him from time to time.

Until the ferry finally docks at Dragonstone Island and the students begin to walk ashore with their suitcases in hand, full of excitement and high expectations for what awaits them this year on site.

And since you have never visited Dragonstone before, you watch in complete awe and amazement as the majestic and imposing modern castle stands before you almost on the water's edge.

It looks like a living museum, offering the relics of Old Valyria and its history, paying homage to the ancient house Valyria, a royal family that once ruled Westeros with the legend of having tamed dragons in their Reign.

The entire castle is made of stone, as well as its surroundings and all it has to offer.

And once inside, everything is majestically structured and spacious, with architecture of royalty, preserving that touch and the one that many decades ago a royal and powerful family lived here.

With a male guide, who is also chaperon of this 'excursion', he welcomes all the students and begins to guide them through the main corridors of the castle.

You are amazed to see the numerous display cases with ancient swords that had forged the history of the Valyrian house, as well as other possessions, be they wardrobes or jewelry of gold, silver and other precious stones.

There are also portraits of the ancient Kings and Queens who had ruled, as well as portraits of princes and princesses with the name, date of birth and date of death.

Being your first time in this place, it is obvious that you are excited compared to other students who have come here before and just want to have fun.

But you sense how the atmosphere is steeped in history and mystery. So you can't wait to learn more about this history that was in an ancient and legendary world.

"For those who don't already know, there are various activities you can do during your stay on the island," says the guide man, "You can enjoy the beach and swim in our crystal clear waters, but you can also dive with professional instructors to explore the coral reefs and marine life, as well as we also offer surfing lessons for beginners."

"I want to try surfing," Alysanne says next to you, without both of them letting up, and you watch her in surprise.

"Really?"

"I don't plan to dive, I feel like I'll go crazy with claustrophobia with so much suit and gear on me, not to mention you can't talk," she tells you with a grimace, "And swimming is so boring. I want something more exciting."

"And you can handle that?"

"Please, I can handle anything," she says with a certain superiority, making you laugh, "And what do you plan to do? Obviously not surf but then what?"

"Hum…" you think about it for a moment, "I don't know, maybe I'll visit the huge library and learn more about the history of this place and the whole Valyrian family."

Alysanne looks at you completely expectantly and showing you how much your answers have bored her.

"Are you serious?"

"We also offer a tour of our small aquarium located in the depths of the castle, where you can see a variety of fish and sea creatures," he man goes on to mention, "And lastly, we offer rides on our yachts and scooters along the coast, there are also paddle boarding lessons along our peaceful canals that meander through the island."

You look back at Alysanne beside you.

"Or maybe I'll join the paddling classes," you say with a shrug.

But that only makes Alysanne look at you like you're a hopeless case, sigh, and continue moving on, not telling you any more about your plans or she's afraid it will make you feel bad.

And you let out a little laugh, since of course you also want to enjoy the beach and also want a yacht ride.

And as all the students continue to move forward and you along with them, you still feel the tension between you and Aemond, who is moving a few meters ahead of you with his friends.

Despite the beauty and excitement of Dragonstone, still this uneasiness continues to weigh on your being.

First night at Dragonstone and you've already been left alone.

Alysanne stated that she wanted to enjoy the luxurious bathtub in the room to immerse herself in a relaxing spa experience, so that's what she's doing now before starting the rough activities tomorrow.

And meanwhile you're stealing snacks from the huge kitchen since you've prepared one night of movies for yourself, which isn't a bad plan.

So with your pajamas on, you go back to the room, thankful that you didn't have any awkward encounters with anyone. In fact you were hoping to run into him, but that hasn't happened and you have no idea where he must be.

So with your snacks in hand and in the huge hallway where your room is located, you struggle a bit to open your door with your hands full, when someone enters the same hallway where you are.

"Hey Y/N."

You turn your head and meet Cregan, causing you to place a smile on your face in his direction.

"Hey Cregan."

He watches you with a small amused smile.

"Do you need help?"

"Well, I-I…" you try one more time, but everything is about to fall out of your hands, "Yeah," you finally agree.

He helps you with your snacks and also opens the door for you, then watches you curiously.

"Are you preparing one night of snacks and probably watching movies with Alysanne?"

"No," you reply laughing softly, "No, I—

"Ah, so you're going with Aemond to the hot tub," he interrupts you in a casual tone, assuming.

Confused by that revelation, you try to process the information, but before you can even pretend and react, which you really don't and remain silent like a fool, he notices and looks at you slightly confused.

"Oh, well... on my way here saw him alone in the hot tub and thought you were going with him."

And just then it happens.

Something snaps inside you.

An overwhelming sense of need overwhelms you from head to toe, you can't help it and you can't take it anymore.

You need to talk to someone about the truth and release everything you've been accumulating these past few days. But you know that if you do that, you would be breaking a contract rule.

But the thought of still holding all this in and not being able to talk to anyone about what's really going on is unbearable.

Alysanne would freak out and you have no one else to talk to. It's not like you have a lot of friends. So thinking hard, you quickly map out a plan in your mind and decide to confide in Cregan.

"Do you have a moment?" you ask with a lump in your throat.

Cregan gets confused and looks hesitant.

"Well, I—

"Alysanne is relaxing in the tub, she won't be out of there for a while and I really need to talk to someone about this," you plead.

And that's enough for Cregan to walk into the room behind you as he sees your face like you're about to explode and you tell him everything.

And God, it's a complete relief to be able to speak freely, without the pressure of keeping up the farce.

And you start by explaining to him why you decided to fake a relationship, and then tell him these feelings that you can't ignore anymore, as well as explaining everything you're feeling about Floris and how things are between you and Aemond.

And by this point, Cregan is very comfortable sitting on your bed, eating from your snacks while you wander around your room talking freely about everything that comes to your mind and he listens attentively.

"I'm completely crazy, aren't I?"

You watch him completely frustrated and looking for support, as the ideas and thoughts keep coming uncontrollably into your mind.

"I mean, this is fake," you clarify, waving your hands as you speak, "This wasn't supposed to happen, he just asked me for help and I asked for something in return to accept. And he clearly doesn't feel the same way I do."

You look at him in exasperation, worried.

"And I know I acted wrong with him this morning on the bus but—" you sigh, "You should have seen how he reacted when he saw Floris at school again. This whole thing with Aemond probably wouldn't have happened if Floris hadn't left school, it's obvious there's still something between the two of them and that makes me feel… so upset and so jealous when I shouldn't!" you exclaim frustrated, "And I find it best to just stay away from him so I can stop feeling all this and my big mouth won't even think of telling him how I really feel."

"Y/N—

"I'm right, right?" you don't let him speak, watching him completely intently and worriedly, "I'm crazy."

Cregan smiles softly in your direction in an attempt to comfort you and shakes his head, as he takes another bite of a chocolate bread.

"No, not at all," he replies sincerely, "You're just being honest with yourself and me."

You stop in front of him, fiddling nervously with the fingers of your hands.

"I had to blurt it out," you say dejectedly, "I'm so confused. And you have to promise not to tell anyone," you tell him instantly.

"I promise," he tells you instantly too, nodding.

"So what do you think?"

He lets out a long breath before answering, watching you calmly and quietly, preparing in his mind what he will tell you next, while you wait desperately and anxiously.

"Listen, I think it doesn't matter that the two of you have been pretending all this time, but Aemond likes you, a lot."

He assures you and your heart leaps, parting your lips and watching him completely intently.

"I've seen the way he stares at you—

"Have you already forgotten that all this time we've been pretending?" you interrupt him in exasperation.

"And you think you can fake a look of love if he's not really in love?" he asks you, expectantly.

You let out a sigh, bringing a hand to your forehead, massaging your temples.

"That doesn't matter, I feel he still has feelings for Floris and I'm just another fool who fell in love with Aemond Targaryen," you look at him hopelessly, "And if you think about it, it's embarrassing."

"Okay, let's analyze the facts," he says confidently, incorporating himself better on the bed, "The fake relationship was his idea, you set most of the important rules and you're the one who wants to end the relationship, but you're here locked in your room preparing a movie night for yourself alone while he's waiting for you in the hot tub," he tells you condescendingly while pointing at the door with his thumb.

You watch him completely attentively, almost hesitant and unsure, thinking about it.

"And if you think about it precisely, yes, Aemond and Floris had something but it was nothing serious, he later went back to Alys and now that he erased Alys from his life, there is you and no one else," he explains to you, "Floris' return means nothing because he could have told you that it was better to end the fake relationship when he saw her again, but he didn't tell you anything, it was you," he assures you, "And yes, maybe you fell in love first, but eventually he also fell in love with you and harder."

Cregan's every word hits you like a wave of revelation, making you rethink your perceptions and doubts.

Maybe, in the midst of all this confusion, conflict and your doubts, Cregan is right.

Maybe Aemond really is in love with you, despite the fake relationship, Alys and Floris… maybe he is and the thought is as overwhelming as it is comforting.

If so… then what will happen?

You don't know but wanting to find out excites and scares you at the same time.

"Do you think he's waiting for me in the hot tub?" is the only question you can utter out of the thousands in your mind, watching him hopefully.

"Of course," he gives you an obvious look.

So you waste no time.

You leave on your pajamas of silk shorts with a tank top of the same fabric and throw a coat on over them. It's not really cold but the air here on the island is frosty enough for you.

And as you step outside a part of the castle where the hot tub is located, with your heartbeat echoing in your ears, you are greeted by a cool, salty breeze that caresses your skin.

The hot tub area is illuminated by a series of lights hanging from the ends of the trees, creating a calm and relaxing atmosphere. But what stands out the most is the blue light of the hot tub.

And there you see him.

You focus on the lone figure of Aemond as you move forward, who has his back to you, gazing off into the horizon, thoughtful while also distracted by the bubbles the hot tub is making around him.

You pause for a moment, watching him from a distance, feeling a strange mixture of excitement and nervousness fluttering in your chest.

The silver chain around his neck shines with a soft glow from the blue light, adding a touch of mystery to his profile, just as his white skin glows slightly from the glint of water on his skin.

The sound of the hot tub echoes in place, as well as the ocean waves outside and with nerves blocking your mind, you finally approach him, with quiet determination.

"Mind if I join you?"

You say to him with some insecurity and in a soft tone, hugging yourself, nervous and attentive.

Aemond turns his head towards you and his eye meets yours.

And if his gaze reflected surprise, he quickly turns back to an unexpressive face and without saying absolutely nothing to you, where you also tried to smile a little at him, he turns his gaze back to the front.

And you don't let it get to you, at least not yet.

"What? Now you're going to ignore me?"

And thankfully that's enough to make him talk to you. At least a little bit.

"Oh now I'm the one ignoring you?" he retorts bitterly, without even looking at you, "That's funny."

And he continues to turn his back on you, without saying anything else, to which you let out a long breath and without giving up yet, thinking about what Cregan told you and also considering your feelings, you approach him.

With hesitant steps, you climb the steps leading to the entrance of the hot tub and approach the edge, feeling the warmth of the water and the gentle steam rising in the air.

Feeling Aemond's gaze on you, you take a seat on the edge and dip your feet into the water as you return his gaze, which makes your heart pound in your chest again.

He is completely beautiful.

And the words don't come out of your mouth as you are hypnotized for a moment watching the flashes of light on his serene face with his flawless skin and those features that make him look so handsome.

But you finally focus.

"Well, I'm sorry this is my first trip here and I have no idea how to do the activities when you didn't even offer to guide me," you foolishly try to justify yourself.

"Oh and now I'm supposed to guide you after you ignored me on the bus?" he inquires.

You feel the blood rise to your cheeks and look away for a moment, embarrassed.

"Well, I thought I should do you a favor," you admit sheepishly, not really knowing what to say.

And you just had to say that?

Your mind reproaches you.

"Favor?" he repeats in confusion, "What favor?"

"It's obvious Floris is still interested in you," you explain, "And you and she had a thing in the past so was it better for her to sit down with you or not?"

Fucking fool.

Your mind keeps reproaching you, but you don't know why you had to say that either!

And you know it was really bad as Aemond makes a gesture of exasperation on his face and shakes his head as he averts his gaze from you and stretches out both arms to the edge of the hot tub.

"You know?" he starts to say in a frustration-laden tone of voice, watching you "For being such a good student… you can be really dumb sometimes."

You frown, bewildered by his words.

"What?"

"I wanted to sit with you, Y/N," he tells you in exasperation, wanting to make you understand, "Not with Floris or anyone else, just you," he says, his tone softening as he looks at you intently.

Oh.

Yes, oh.

Now you feel stupid and of course you should feel exactly that way.

And as Aemond's words echo in your mind, you feel a mixture of emotions inside you.

On the one hand, a sense of relief and joy finds its way into your chest as you hear his sincere words and know that he wanted to be with you. But you are also overcome with a slight embarrassment at your initial lack of understanding.

And because of the same nerves and how stupid you still feel, a soft laugh escapes your lips at his confession.

"So, Floris…

You let the words float in the air, as you watch him with that insecurity in your gaze.

"Floris was just a one time thing in the past. She doesn't interest me anymore," he assures you gently and firmly, completely honest.

You both remain silent for a moment, only hearing the bubbling of the hot tub, where you mostly admire how the blue light reflects all over his body and face, looking so fucking good.

Not to mention he has no shirt on.

You can feel the electricity in the air as he watches you with his face softer compared to a few moments ago, there's also almost adoration and hope, all just the same way you're watching him.

Then you break the silence.

"I'm sorry I didn't sit with you on the bus," you say sincerely.

And he makes a nonchalant gesture with his hand.

"It's all right."

And once again, silence envelops you as you both sink into the intimate and complicit atmosphere that surrounds you.

Then once everything has been 'cleared up' somehow, you sit up and take off your coat, to begin soaking in the hot tub along with him, causing him to watch you attentively and in confusion.

"You're going in your sleeping clothes?" he asks in a doubtful tone.

"I didn't bring a swimsuit," you reply, stopping in front of him and allowing yourself to enjoy the shared quiet and intimacy along with the warmth of the water.

You watch as his gaze sweeps over your body, mostly focused on watching the way the water envelops you in just the same way he does and you don't stop, as you position yourself right in front of him, your face inches from his.

And already starting to feel a little embarrassed by his burning gaze on you, you say the first thing that comes to mind.

"You know, I've never seen you without that chain," you say, feeling your knees bump against his thighs.

He smiles slowly, showing off his perfect aligned white teeth, marking each cheek with his beautiful dimples, having a knowing glint in his eye that is reflected as he inspects your face.

"It's part of me," he replies, in a soft, deep, husky voice than usual that sends shivers down your spine, "But I think I might make an exception tonight."

And before you can fully comprehend his words, you feel Aemond's hand on your thigh from under the water, sending a surge of electricity through your body.

Surprised, he makes you sit on his lap, while his other hand rests on your waist, drawing you to him gently but with remarkable determination, surprising you and making you feel instantly nervous.

You place your hands on his shoulders, seeking stability, as you watch him with your parted lips, seeing that the space between the two of you no longer exists.

The intensity of his gaze and the softness of his face take your breath away for an instant, reminding you why you are drawn to him in the first place. And a mix of emotions overwhelm you as you realize how much you've been longing for this moment.

Then you both shorten the little distance that separates you and finally you feel the sweet contact.

With no one around, no one else's eyes on you, just the two of you alone here, you kiss.

A slow and deep kiss, where you feel Aemond's lips soft and warm against yours, making you let yourself go and move closer to him if possible, taking one of your hands to caress his cheek.

And his body responds to your caresses, pulling you closer towards him as if he can't get enough, settling better into his lap and tilting his head to the side, deepening the kiss, where his hands run down your back, causing his touch to cause electric currents through your body.

Then you both pull away a little with a wet sound from their lips and you watch him directly into his eye, unable to believe this is actually happening, where Aemond breathes through his mouth and brings one of his hands up to your cheek, watching you intently and with that lazy smile.

"What?

With a small smile on your lips, you shake your head.

"Nothing," you reply in a soft tone and that makes him smile a little more, starting to trace your cheek with his fingers and your face with his gaze.

"You don't know what you're doing to me, love," he murmurs against your lips, his voice hoarse, "The way you make me feel… it's indescribable."

His words wash over you like a comforting warm wave, spreading throughout your chest and causing a sensation to settle in your lower abdomen.

His hand on your thigh slides all over your skin, producing shivers as he pulls you even closer and your whole body trembles slightly from the intensity in his desire as he shortens the distance again and his lips seek yours with a hunger that matches what you are feeling.

And in that moment there is no doubt or hesitation, only the overwhelming certainty of the connection that exists between the two of you. And just like him, you let your actions speak for you and everything you are feeling right now.

You deepen the kiss, as you lose yourself in the intoxicating rhythm of his kisses and your fingers gently glide over the skin of his face and run along the contours of his jaw.

"This wasn't in the contract," you murmur against his lips, agitated.

"No, it wasn't," he tells you just as agitated as you are, catching your lips with his again.

Then your other hand comes down on his bare chest, tracing his muscles and feeling the heat of his skin against yours, sending an electric shock that ignites a burning, fierce fire throughout his body.

Aemond moans against your lips and brings one of his hands to the back of your neck, tilting his head and holding you exactly where he wants you, while his other hand travels between the skin of your thighs and your lower back.

Then you decide to move on top of him and his breath hitches as he feels your movement and you too feel a tingle in your crotch.

Both he and you can feel the tension grow between the two of you and suddenly it is as if the world has vanished, existing only him and you with this moment of pure connection and desire.

And with each caress, you feel yourself falling more and more under the spell, lost in the intoxicating, indulgent pleasure you begin to experience. And with his heart beginning to pound, his caresses become more daring and urgent.

You too move with more purpose on top of him, beginning to feel a bulge grow just below your nerve center that caresses him and makes you feel so good.

"Do you want me to stop?" he asks against your lips.

"Please don't," you sentence, kissing him again.

You gasp against his lips and you both begin to gasp, feeling Aemond's chest rise and fall every instant, just like yours. And with the warm, comforting water enveloping you both it only makes it feel better.

You run your hands through his hair, pulling it away from his forehead to lean into him and continue kissing him as you continue to roll your hips on top of him, when he pulls away from you and begins to leave a trail of wet kisses from your cheek and down to your neck.

All your skin bristles and you let your head fall back, giving him more accessibility.

"Fuck," he murmurs hoarsely into the side of your neck.

And you lean into him again, kissing him, wanting to feel the caress of his lips on top of yours.

But then when the need and desire begins to build to a pace where Aemond thinks he won't be able to stop afterward, he decides to stop right there, pulling away from your lips and making you stop moving.

"Wait," he says to you in a low, husky tone, breathing through his mouth.

You look at him slightly confused, just as agitated as he is.

"What's wrong?" you say with your heart pounding in your chest as you take a deep breath.

He tries to catch his breath, closing his eye and resting his forehead against yours, still holding you above him.

"We can't," he says with some frustration.

You force yourself to take a deep breath, beginning to feel confusion and uncertainty invade you, watching him intently.

"Why not?" you ask in a whisper, still leaning into him.

He lets out a long breath through his nostrils, clearly fighting against the hardness beneath his shorts and keeping you on top of him in a way where you don't touch him or he'll go completely insane.

But his silence only makes you worry and think things that really aren't.

"Or is it that you don't want to do it with me?" you ask fearfully and with embarrassment starting to creep up on you.

"What?" he quickly looks at you, "No, no, that's not what I mean, of course I want to do it with you," he answers you quickly and completely honest, "But we can't do it here."

He points his gaze around you, to again look only at you with that intensity, revealing a mixture of his desires and his inner conflicts.

Oh.

A sense of relief washes over you as you realize it's not rejection, but concern for the circumstances.

"Ah… right," you say with a mixture of embarrassment and relief, also briefly glancing around you, "Sorry, I hadn't thought of that."

Aemond looks at you tenderly, his gaze softening with a mixture of desire, vulnerability, and what you think is love reflecting in its depths, then pulling your face towards him again.

"It's okay, we'll find another time," he assures you, his tone comforting.

You smile softly as you place your hands on both of his cheeks and he kisses you deeply again, causing you to melt into his arms and let yourself be completely carried away.

You feel embarrassed by your misunderstanding, but also grateful for his concern and consideration.

And you don't know exactly how long you both lasted inside the hot tub, just kissing and nothing more, occasionally playing with the bubbles, sharing an intimate and special moment together.

"I missed you," he murmurs against your lips, leaving a soft kiss that makes you smile.

"Me too," you confess, kissing him again.

And though desire still burns between the two of you, you both know it's best to wait and save that moment for a more private and suitable place.

You still don't know what the fuck happened.

But what you do know is that you went to sleep with a silly smile on your lips and at dawn, you put the same silly smile back on your lips as you remembered everything that happened.

However, surprise and fear also flooded you after remembering exactly everything you and Aemond did.

The two of you were going to have sex.

You were going to have sex with him in a hot tub.

You didn't even care about anything, the fact that they were out in the open, the fact that you weren't physically or mentally ready or even the fact that you and he weren't even real boyfriend and girlfriend.

But you wanted to do it, God, you wanted it and badly.

He was even the one who had to stop everything when on another plane, you probably would have done it, but no. You weren't thinking, you were completely drunk with pleasure and now shame is the only thing you feel all over your body.

You can't even tell Alysanne because of the shame and because you know she won't stop laughing at you. You even plan not to leave the room to avoid running into him. But Alysanne makes you go with her to her first surfing lesson.

And ready for the day as you walk with her down the stairs to the main lobby, you think about how if things with Aemond were already weird and awkward before that moment, now the two of you won't even be able to see each other's eyes.

But to your surprise, that's not what happens.

There are several students and teachers already in the lobby when you see his characteristic silver hair, but before you can react and even think, Aemond walks towards you with a small smile as soon as he sees you and kisses you, surprising you since you definitely didn't expect that.

And of course you noticed the look Cregan gave you both, but more to you specifically, but you just told him with your look that you will talk to him about everything later.

And so you start your activities in Dragonstone, with Aemond.

Of course you first keep Alysanne company in her surfing lessons and after she is totally focused on that, you and Aemond spend time together.

Under the golden sun, painting the horizon with warm hues and golden sparkles on the ocean waves, you both enjoy a walk along the shore of the beach, enjoying the salty air and the sea breeze that envelops you.

You talk about everything and about almost nothing at the same time, him being the first one to dare to hold your hand while you enjoy your little walk, making the blood rise to your cheeks and you enjoy like every teenage girl in love these little moments.

Then you both play a game of volleyball, where you both laugh and have fun as you immerse yourselves in the game.

And clearly from running around so much in the intense sun and getting almost sweaty, you get the idea that you both should swim a bit and surprisingly Aemond doesn't refuse the idea, even though he doesn't know how to swim, but you offer to teach him.

In a gray two-piece bikini, you lead him out into the waves, explaining how to move in the water and breathe properly, causing him to begin to gain confidence and enjoy the sensation of being carried by the waves.

But of course after that would come the laughter and playfulness, both laughing and talking while enjoying the sun and the salt water.

And in that moment, the fun turned into an intimate moment as Aemond holds you by the waist, pulling you closer to him. There is a silent intention in his gaze as he touches your skin with his burning hand and you don't pull away, on the contrary, you lean towards him.

You wrap your legs around his torso and his lips press against yours in a deep kiss, losing themselves to each other in the middle of the sea.

And when you both separate, you look at each other with a mixture of shyness and affection, while Aemond places a damp lock behind your ear, feeling a pleasant sensation that he can't quite describe envelop him, especially at the moment when you again leave a soft, tender kiss on his lips.

And with beaming smiles on your faces, you both get out of the water and go upstairs to your rooms to bathe and change your clothes.

But then the two of you meet again and he accompanies you to explore the castle together, marveling at the ancient relics and all the history that surrounds the place.

He also accompanies you to the library to take some photos and to the roof terraces where you get magnificent views of the whole island.

And as you both move through the exhibits, Aemond more than anything couldn't resist hugging and kissing you, expressing his affection in every gesture and you of course didn't mind.

And in the castle's aquarium, you both find yourselves surrounded by fascinating sea creatures, sharing tender moments together as you watch the fish swim around.

The sea creatures seem to dance in the water, their bright colors and movements mesmerizing you as you walk among the tanks.

"You are beautiful," he murmurs against your lips, watching you with that bright glint in his eye as he watches the reflection of the sun and water on your face, creating an aura of serenity and beauty around him.

The blood rushes up to your cheeks and you smile shyly, feeling so silly.

"You are beautiful too, Aemond Targaryen."

You lean towards him and leave another soft kiss on his lips that he reciprocates instantly, taking you by the waist and bringing you completely closer to him, wanting to keep touching and kissing you.

But you both continue the little tour holding hands, where you also take pictures together and of everything you see around you, wanting to capture these moments.

And even though he and you haven't really talked about anything, this doesn't feel like you're both pretending. This feels real and you like the way it feels when you are with him, being completely honest and genuine with your feelings.

Then the day goes on as normal and as expected, after doing all the educational activities in a certain way, it's time for the party.

"There will be my friends, Cregan, my sister and well, Alysanne if she wants to come too," Aemond tells you as you both head towards your rooms.

"I'll convince her to go," you assure him.

"Okay, I'll see you in fifteen minutes then."

"All right," you smile at him.

He leaves down a different hallway from the one you're heading down since each of your rooms are separate and you're focused on getting ready for this party.

You don't know how, but he and his friends have arranged to take a yacht for the night. Obviously they are not going to ride around in it with the night sky, but apparently they have everything ready for everyone to drink and enjoy a while.

Fortunately you convince Alysanne and the three of you soon arrive at the yacht that is stranded in the west harbor of the island, where Aemond's friends are already there, getting everything ready.

Then the music plays, the LED lights turn on and the drinks begin to be served.

Sitting on Aemond's lap, you didn't think you'd have as good a time as you're having now, laughing and talking to everyone, occasionally hugging and kissing him.

And fortunately nothing unfortunate or unpleasant happens, there is only the company of your friends and you enjoy Aemond's presence, clinging to him at every opportunity, hugging him and singing some songs with him like everyone else, having a good time.

And fortunately in the following days there is no activity you don't do with Aemond, even now if you go for a yacht ride, where you can perfectly see some students and also Alysanne practicing surfing.

You also cheer up with the scooter ride, just like him, completely enjoying the moment and the experience.

And you honestly don't want any of it to end.

general taglist:

You want everything to continue to be perfect.

@melsunshine @at-a-rax-ia @jxdegodfrey @ttkttt @yentroucnagol @kate-to-the-ki @iamavailablesstuff @bluerskiees @urmomsgirlfriend1 @toodlesxcuddles @rosie-posie08 @iloveallmyboys @bellaisasleep @deliaseastar @cupcakesminicakescupcakes @dixie-elocin @lilostif16 @wickedfrsgrl @a-beaverhausen @a-beaverhausen @saturnssrings @ladythornofrivia @iloveallmyboys

#aemond fanfiction #aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen fanfic #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen x you #aemond targaryen x y/n #hotd aemond #aemond x reader #aemond x fem!reader #aemond x oc #aemond targaryen fanfiction #aemond one eye #modern aemond

[faerievampling]

An Unexpected Visitor

Summary: Ascended!Astarion and Tav have been together for thousands of years. One day, an unexpected visitor shows up, reminding them of their past and offering them a new adventure.

Word Count: 4k

Here's the link to AO3!

Pairing: (soft) Ascended!Astarion x Female Tav

Warning: 18+, Explicit. PiV. Oral Sex. Light bondage. Light dom/sub.

A/N: This is going to be a multi-chapter story I will be posting here and on AO3. Largely but not entirely based on my headcanons for Ascended!Astarion that you can read here: Part 1. Part 2. (Not necessary to read first!!)

I hope you enjoy!

You wake up with a strong sense of unease. Astarion, your creator and husband, picks up on it immediately, of course. The two of you are so profoundly connected, your minds nestled together; he knows that you do not know the ‘why’ for these feelings.

Astarion kisses and cuddles you good morning, as he always does, but he holds you a bit longer this time, not wanting to get out of bed with his consort feeling this way. His hold on you is tight as he buries his nose in your hair.

Alas, Astarion has work to do, including ensuring the protection of his territories and assets, especially at a time like this.

The war, my darling. The war. Astarion reminds you again. You hadn’t been affected by it at all, and didn't really care. And Astarion really didn’t care that you didn’t care. He only wanted your happiness and wellbeing, and had worked hard to keep you away from it all.

But he feared that maybe you could sense it, or were beginning to. His weariness, his stress; those feelings he did his best to guard you from. 

Astarion cradled you to his chest, one arm on your naked back and the other nestled in the root of your hair, giving you gentle massages as you listen to the thump of his ever-beating heart. After a while, Astarion repositions the two of you so that he may offer his neck to you. He knows this is your (second) favorite place to feed, because you can feel the beat of his heart and drink in his scent.

He also knows you’d rather like to feed from the inside of his thigh, but now was not the time for that. Well, maybe it was, but the two of you were already late for court.

As you sup of his blood, you moan with pleasure - there is nothing better to a bride than the blood of her creator, and Astarion was a very generous master. 

“Your master adores you, my little darling,” Astarion whispers in your ear as you feed, his hand moving to caress the back of your head. His teasing words cause you to grind into his hips, and you can feel him beginning to get hard. 

“Enough, my pet,” Astarion says as he pulls you away, detaching your fangs from his ivory skin. As he meets your gaze, the memories of your days of madness wash over him like the shock of ice cold water. 

Long ago, Astarion insisted you feed on him and only him. There was danger in this, a bride feeding too much from her Master. This, Astarion knew, but his mind was shrouded with paranoia. 

In another land, one of the brides of vampire master Geldon Moth was poisoned and killed. Once Astarion heard the news, he came to a quick decision. 

Believing his blood to be the safest for you, you were to feed on him and only on him. After months of letting you gorge, Astarion saw the bridal madness for the first time. 

Astarion is quick to push the memory away. Before he does, you catch a glimpse of the scene: you’re inconsolable, starving, horny as a bitch in heat, and as violent as ever. Astarion is crying, begging you to come back to yourself. 

Astarion no longer remains your only food source. He is your primary one, indeed, but the essence of others is to be drunk from a goblet, not from lips to skin. That is reserved for you and your creator. 

Thou art mine. A thought rings in your head.

You help Astarion dress, as you have for the past…so many years. Astarion dismissed his footman so long ago, preferring to do the work himself with the help of his consort. His aversion to touch, anyone’s but your own, was an ever-growing symptom of the choices the both of you made so long ago.

Astarion plants a tender kiss on your lips before he goes, and your own maid comes in to help you dress and take care of your hair. She wants to put it in an updo of some kind, so that you match with the other ladies of the court. 

But you’ve been feeling rather rebellious, and Astarion sat on the throne, so you could do whatever you wanted. And so you did.

You keep it long, like a curtain, and now that Astarion had finally moved on from his insistence that you wear something low cut, you choose a dress that is modest, comfortable, but regal enough. You ditch the shoes. You’ve been alive for nearly two millenniums. You know your beauty is already unmatched, and you needn’t worry yourself with discomfort. Your feet rarely touch the floor, anyways. 

But your current maid doesn’t seem to agree, and always argues with you about the fucking shoes. Before she even begins, you hiss at her.

This maid, Bethild, is one you’ve had for a while now. First joining your service as a young woman, Bethild was now rather old and round, you think. She tuts at you for hissing before crossing her arms, ready to give you a lecture. 

“It’s not befitting of a Lady in your position to be hissing,” Bethild addressed you in ways others would die for, but you rather liked her, and Astarion did too.

But before she could continue, you use your vampiric telepathy to force your way in. THE DRESS IS LONG ENOUGH. NOBODY WILL SEE. You scream this into her mind, trying to cause her a bit of pain, maybe some nausea.

Bethild knows when she’s lost a battle, and she murmurs something about your Master hearing about this as she bumbles her way out of your room.

You roll your eyes at her as she leaves. Why must we do this everyday? You reach out to your husband. But he doesn’t immediately respond, because he already knows your grief: it is simply becoming increasingly difficult for you to tolerate mortals.

We can get you a new maid, my consort. Or we can get rid of them all together. Whatever it is you want, it will be yours. Astarion reaching into your mind is always comfortable, and the contact sends a shiver to your core.

You didn’t understand how Astarion could handle it so well. So much better than you. You were thankful that he could, of course, but you just didn’t understand. 

You’re perfect the way you are, my consort. You don’t need to be like me. You are mine, and I will always take care of you.

Once you’re ready, you float to your throne, making a bit of a scene because of your tardiness. Astarion doesn’t care; the subjects can wait, especially for you.

As you take your seat, Astarion holds your hand, idly (and a bit anxiously) playing with your fingers as he handles business. He likes to look at them as he mulls over the proceedings in his mind; he plays with your rings, twisting them around your fingers and sometimes switching them between digits. Every day, he looks forward to seeing what choice of jewelry you will make. It makes him feel tremendous pride to see the beauty of your soft and smooth hands, and to see the decadent jewels on your pretty fingers.

Whatever business Astarion is handling today is, frankly, totally lost on you. If something important happens, something you need to know, Astarion will tell you. 

So, you lose yourself in the folds of you and your eternal lover’s mind. You always enter this vampiric trance during court. You needn’t speak, because you trust your beloved creator to speak for you. 

After a few hours and a few dealings later, something briskly breaks you out of this trance. That unease. 

Astarion squeezes your hand to draw your attention to him. You meet his gaze, and you see a lot there: love, need, possession, inquiry, frustration. You’re having a hard time parsing through it, but what you gather is you are making Astarion extremely uncomfortable. 

We’re almost done here. After court, you will be sequestered away until I know you are safe. Is all he communicates with you.

It’s just a sense of unease, my love. Please just stay with me, you are all the protection I need. Don’t lock me away. You are practically begging at this point, but your face gives nothing away. You are dampened by your curse. Rather it be the vampiric curse or the curse of time, you aren’t sure. You are still you, but your light shines dimmer.

Astarion narrows his eyes at you. Your foresight has been right before. 

You shake your head at him. Now, you’re both starting to lose your poker faces. The mortals murmur around you, but the two of you exist only with each other at this moment, and the rest of the world is diminished. 

This is different. It’s just a feeling, nothing more. I’ve had no visions, Master. You call him this to soften him up; it makes Astarion’s cock twitch just to hear you say the word. 

As Astarion’s thoughts turn lewd, a servant approaches him, informing him of the next visitor to be heard. You feel Astarion’s mind slip away from yours as he focuses on the world around him. 

But the words of the servant are tumbling around in his head. Scary, strange looking elf. 

What? You ask, probing into Astarion’s mind.

He looks over to you, his handsome features and lustful eyes (he’s still having some lewd thoughts) causes your breath to catch and sends your second heartbeat to race. He said the visitor knew us, and was a terrifying, strange looking elf.

A picture has already formed in Astarion’s mind of a strange green egg that was briefly in your possession during your adventuring days. Still holding each other’s gaze, you both silently acknowledge that the ‘strange elf’ is in fact, not an elf. 

The two of you further slip into each other's minds, a feeling so familiar by now yet no less pleasurable. The folds of your waking mind are fondled by his, and as he is weaving through you, he finds a memory he cannot ignore: that pretty clearing. His own version of the memory rises within him, meeting yours halfway. He is focused on that first kiss, that first taste of you, your folds, the taste of your sweat…

You can’t help but smile as you hear Astarion’s heart racing. The passage of time is cruel and has taken many things from you and Astarion both. But neither of you could ever forget that first night.

Focus, my lover. You poke at him. 

Astarion smirks. It must be a githyanki. We fought many of them, remember, little love?

You remember, only vaguely. Astarion’s memory was much sharper than yours, due to his ascended state. 

Deciding to give it no more thought, you drift off into your trance again, and Astarion lets you. You needn’t care about this mysterious visitor; you had other things to worry about, like drinking blood, striking fear into the hearts of mortals, and how you were going to convince your darling husband to get on his knees and put his pretty lips on your glistening, swollen sex later tonight.

You glance at Astarion as he’s listening to one of the servants. You focus on his pretty lips, and how perfect they look around your nipple, or your clit.

You think you’ll start by wearing a low cut dress to dinner - yes, that would be the right move. He wouldn’t be able to keep his eyes off the plush curve of your breasts, especially if you could manage to wear a corset. You’re also thinking you’ll skip the panties, because surely you can goad him into putting a hand up your skirts. Maybe you’ll invite him to feed on your inner thigh; he loves that tender spot so much, he likely wouldn't be able to help himself to having a taste of you —

“I see your union has stood the test of time,” The sound of the woman’s voice snaps you back into the present with a whirl. You know her voice. You know her face, even: pretty, green skin, orange hair, she even looks rather young, still. 

“It is good to see you both. You look….well.” The githyanki says. She is wearing armor, and has a long sword sheathed on her back. She looks at you uneasily, but you see a fondness in her eyes and a comfortable sense of familiarity.

Lae’zel. Astarion tells you. She was once your lover. You can feel Astarion seething at the reminder that once, you were not his. You don’t really know how to respond to him, because you do remember your time with Lae’zel, but it was so long ago it is literally ancient history.

You knit your brows together as you take her in. Her coming must be that feeling of unease. And Astarion tells you as much as he converses with Lae’zel. She wants something, he tells you. Despite his broiling jealousy, Astarion keeps a cordial, straight face as he converses with Lae’zel. 

She has been in the Astral Plane, a place outside of time and space, fighting a seemingly never ending war with Vlaakith. And she has come to her only living allies on the mortal plane, the Ancunins, for help.

Lae’zel and Astarion come to an agreement for a private meeting on the morrow. Astarion’s emotions are all over the place; he ends court early, deciding to sequester you to the bedchamber early.

As he marches you to the boudoir, hand on your wrist as you’re barely keeping up with him, Astarion is stopped by a servant. Whatever message Astarion receives leaves him feeling desperate - his mind was disarranged, his face twisted in grief.

Parsing through his mind, you can’t even manage to make out a few words - whatever has happened, Astarion is either hiding it from you or still trying to process it himself. Likely a bit of both, you decide.

But once the two of you reach your bed chambers, he becomes a single minded man.

Astarion grabs both of your wrists with one hand and has you bent over the bed before you can even register your own movement. With his other hand, he is pushing up your skirts, finding his way to your naked sex. 

“How ignorant of me to believe all of your past lovers were dead,” His voice escapes through gritted teeth, low and raspy. Astarion maneuvers you on the bed so that you are now on your knees with your ass in the air, hands still being held behind your back. With no way to support yourself, your head rests on the bed. 

So much for your plan of getting Astarion on his knees for you.

Astarion’s grip on your wrists tighten as his other hand grazes your exposed labia, caressing the lips of your cunt with his dexterous fingers before sliding a finger inside of you until he is knuckle deep.

“Do you remember your time with her, my consort?” The sensation of his finger being dragged against your slick, spongy walls send you rolling your hips into his hand, desperate for more.

Yes, you think desperately, even though he already knows the answer. He’s surely searched your mind already, probably long ago. 

“Say it. Use your words,” His tone is harsh, but his fingers gentle as he slides another into you with little resistance. 

“Yes, I remember,” You say, the words feeling odd in your mouth. You realized you hadn’t spoken aloud in quite a while.

Astarion lets go of your hands and brings his arm around your front, a hand gripping your neck and bringing you upright, so that your back is to his chest. His two fingers are still buried inside you. 

“I am forever yours, Astarion,” His grip on your neck is gentle, and you’re able to turn your head to look at him. His ruby eyes bore into you, such a perfect reflection of your own. 

His own eyes are pleading. Tell me. Please.

You brace yourself. Not because you don’t mean it, but because you know you will never hear the reciprocation spoken aloud.

“I love you, Astarion,” You supplicate.

His eyes are wet, just for a moment, and then his lips crash into yours, his hand trailing up to grab your jaw, to guide you to him. He relinquishes you from his fingers and quickly removes his clothing, not wasting any time to put himself between your legs. 

Your dress is long gone by the time Astarion lines his cock up with your entrance, eyes locked with yours in an intense gaze. 

“Say it again. For your Master, spawn,” He growls. You knew this was merely just a part he wanted you to play sometimes, but it hurt all the same. He knew this. But he needed this from you.

“I love you eternally, Master,” You speak with a soft voice barely above a whisper as Astarion rubs his swollen tip against your puffy folds.

His ruby eyes bore into you as he pushes into you slowly; a moan escaping his pretty lips once he’s bottomed out, balls deep inside of you. He leans over and plants a kiss on your forehead before meeting your gaze again.

“You are my everything, Tav.” His voice is raw, and this is all he can manage before his lips meet yours again. You clench around his cock as he begins to set a slow, steady pace. 

That tiny longing inside of you vanishes, and you know that you are his everything. You tangle your hand in his hair and deepen your kisses; Astarion whimpers at this, and when he quickened his pace, your cunt is making lewd, squelching noises at the power of his thrusts.

“Gods above,“ Astarion breathes against your lips. He begins to play with you, adjusting his pace until he finds the perfect rhythm to exuberate the lewd sounds of your desperation.

Bringing himself upright, Astarion watches you; your lips are parted, showing off your beautiful fangs, which he loves so much. He admires your smooth, unmarred skin, as he was careful not to leave any scars on your body. Sure, he had wanted to permanently mark you, but he thought it cruel and pointless: you are his, and nothing will ever change that.

As Astarion slides his cock along your walls, you can’t help but clench around him as you eye your gorgeous husband.

Astarion’s beauty was that of literal legends; as you eye his disheveled curls, the cut of his muscles and jaw, and you know that every ballad, every poem, every story of the beauty of Astarion the Decadent, Hero of Baldur’s Gate, is true. 

Astarion needs to taste you now, and he slowly pulls his cock out from your desperate cunt, causing you to whimper from the loss. Astarion lowers himself between your legs before examining your sex.

“I’ve made a sloppy little mess of you, haven’t I?” Astarion smirks at you, his pupils blown with lust. With his fingers, he spreads your folds, eyeing you as your anticipation grows. He swipes his tongue from your entrance to your clit before he wraps his lips around your swollen, glistening clit and begins to suck; his tongue is so soft, so gentle, and the steady circles he is making with his tongue have you trembling beneath him.

“Perfect…” He murmurs against your sex, the vibration of his silky voice causing you to whimper. “You’re so…” He can’t even finish his sentence as he begins to devour you, and he is desperate to taste you as you come. He has you screaming his name in mere seconds, and you are putty in his hands as he brings himself back up to his knees and rams his cock in you.

You’re so wet, and to your surprise, Astarion inserts two fingers inside you along with his cock; the stretch makes you groan, and he smiles wildly as his other hand grasps your jaw, pulling your head aside to expose your neck to him.

Mine. Mine. Mine. To do with as I please. Body, blood, and soul. You’re mine to fuck, to stretch out, to eat, to use, and you can never leave me. This scares you, but you can’t deny your increasing wetness for him. And you can’t deny the truth of his words.

Astarion slides his fangs into you, making you shudder as he moans loudly; he is so deep inside you, you can feel his swollen tip hitting your cervix, and you claw at his scalp and his back as he drinks you in.

After just a few sips, Astarion is coming undone, and his arms are around you now, holding you so tightly to him that you can’t breathe. You can feel his balls contracting against the curve of your ass as he spills his seed inside you. He trails mindless kisses on your skin as he comes down from the high of his orgasm.

He holds you to him for a while, cock still inside of you, and you can feel the decreasing thump of his heart against your chest. Eventually, he rolls over, and when you’re released from his cock, you feel his seed spilling out of you, dripping down your slick folds and pooling at your pert asshole. 

“I’m going to commission a painting of you, just like this.” He says as he examines the damage. “I’d have to gouge their eyes out after, of course.”

Of course. You reach out in agreement with a smile on your face.

“Speak, my darling. I want to hear your pretty voice.” Astarion gathers you between his legs, your back to his chest as he wraps his arms around you and cradles you to him. He’s still trailing kisses wherever he can: your neck, your shoulder, your cheek, your ear.

“Sorry. Habit.” It was a habit, but nowadays, it was more of a preference.

“You needn’t apologize, lover,” Astarion rests his head on your shoulder, breathing in the scent of your skin. “I’d like you to attend the meeting with Lae’zel with me.”

You needn’t be anywhere but right by my side. Lord Moth’s estate was attacked again. A few of his spawn were killed.

Well, that is far better than being locked in the boudoir, you think. “Of course I’ll come with you.” 

After a moment, you speak again. “I can’t believe she’s still alive. I thought all our past friends were dead.”

“Me too. From what I can recall about Lae’zel, it was ignorant of us to think that woman could ever die.” The two of you giggle as you reminisce on old adventures, the ones Astarion is willing to dwell on, to enjoy. 

Astarion doesn’t mention his jealous feelings about Lae’zel’s sudden reappearance, but you feel it in his actions as the two of you spend the rest of the day in bed; he takes you again, biting you in places he had never before, coming in every hole of yours that he could, until you were well and truly taken and used.

Eventually, the two of you drift off in each other's arms, as you always did. But your lasting thoughts are not on blood, fear, or Astarion’s cock (well maybe a little bit), but on the ‘why’ of Lae’zel’s return. Astarion shares in your anxiety, but assures you to be patient, as all will be revealed on the morrow. 

Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5. Chapter 6.

Masterlist

#ascended!astarion #astarion smut #astarion bg3 #Ascended Astarion x reader #Ascended Astarion x tav #Ascended Astarion x you #astarion x female tav #lae'zel is also here lol #soft ascended astarion #lord astarion #spawn tav #astarion #vampire tav #ascended!astarion x tav #astarion x female reader #astarion x tav #astarion x you #astarion x reader #Killing Time

[darlingmbappe]

The Loneliest | Kylian Mbappé x Fem Reader

[Part One] [Part Two] [Part Three] [Part Four] [Epilogue]

Summary: Your fiancé missing your birthday is the icing on the cake to a horrible couple of months. Now, you’re left to pick up your broken pieces, ending the chapter in your life that includes Kylian Mbappé.

Warnings: Complete angst all the way through, Kylian being a bad fiancé, fighting, breaking an engagement, lots of crying, cussing, this one’s kind of long so beware. Spoiler: no happy ending. Let me know if I missed anything. — English is not my first language —

Mornings used to be your favorite.

You’d wake up way too early to the sound of Kylian’s alarm for your liking, but it didn’t even matter. The hour or so you got to spend with your fiancé before he left were sacred, it was special. They were filled with easy conversation, tired hugs and sleepy kisses on the shoulder, the occasional quickie, or at least a cheeky squeeze of your ass. It felt like very moment spent together was precious. You felt loved by Kylian so much it made your stomach turn with butterflies just thinking about him.

Now, it felt like those domestic moments were a distant memory. Sure, all couples gradually get less and less lovey-dovey the longer they’re together, but the change was drastic. It was like you barley knew him anymore.

You’ve attempted to start conversations with Kylian about this. Multiple times, in fact. Immediately, he’d get defensive, ending in arguments that kept getting worse and worse. It’s difficult to have to tip toe around your feelings in order to avoid a fight. He stopped making you feel special.

This morning, you woke up knowing it will be a hard day; all alone in your shared king sized bed.

Today is your birthday, and you don’t think Kylian knows this. After many weeks of deep reflection and thought, you know that today might be the last day of your three and a half-year long relationship with Kylian Mbappé — a man who stole your heart and still has it. Once treasured, now barely beating. The diamond sitting on your left ring finger had started feeling like a foreign object, like something your body wanted to reject. It’s lost it’s comfort, now you seemed to lug around old memories you clung onto for dear life.

Kylian didn’t come home last night, though you saw on his private Snapchat story that he was safe, sound, and plastered out of his mind at some club with friends you didn’t even know. He couldn’t find it in him to text you back after 9 o’clock, when that morning he said he would be home no later than 8:30. He found a simple ‘going out, don’t wait up for me’ to be sufficient communication for the night.

You called Kylian, instead it went straight to voicemail. Your texts to him weren’t going through, either. He didn’t have training this morning because the coaches had a conference in London, so you knew he had to be home soon.

Dragging yourself out of bed, you made your way to the kitchen for a bowl of bland cereal and coffee for one.

“Happy birthday to me.” You mumbled, looking down at your sad birthday breakfast. Compared to the last few years where Kylian prepared you a delicious meal, hired a chef, or took you out to the fanciest café in Paris — this meal actually made you lose your appetite.

Across town, Kylian was waking up with a pounding sensation in his head and no recollection of the night before.

“What happened last night?” Kylian grumbled as he woke up to the bright sunlight streaming in from the open shutters. His neck had a kink in it from passing out on his friend Paolo’s Airbnb couch in the early hours of the morning, his voice sounded like he’d swallowed gravel. “Fuck.” He covered his face from the blinding rays and felt around for his phone.

He hasn’t gotten drunk that heavily in so long, but when two of his old friends came to Paris for a few weeks, he couldn’t resist giving into their pleads when they’d asked him to tag along for a fun night on the town.

“Bro, you were so drunk last night.” He heard his other friend Bernardo chuckle, his voice almost gone as well from the festivities of the previous night. Kylian sat up, seeing both men looking half dead and clinging onto coffee mugs like a child would cling onto its mothers leg.

The guys chuckled in the kitchen. He smelled eggs cooking but they just made him nauseous. “What time is it? Where’s my phone?”

“Oh…” Paolo snickered and pointed at the bowl full of rice in the center of his kitchen island. “Yeah, man… I don’t know if the rice did much for it. It’s fucked.”

Kylian shot up toward his cell, not even remembering putting it in the rice last night. He carefully picked it up, the entire screen was shattered.

“Putain…” He attempted to hold down the power button just in case, glancing over to the microwave to see the time. 12:36pm. “Merde!”

He had an important meeting with his PR team about potential sponsorships for next years season at 2 o’clock, and if he showed up sweating whiskey with an obvious hangover, the brand reps might think twice before giving him any deals.

He bid his old friends goodbye but not before promising to go out again soon. A short taxi ride later, he was able to make it back home just a little after 1 o’clock.

Kylian bursts through the front door, booking it toward the shower in your ensuite bathroom, running right past you on the bed without a glance or even a hello.

You’d been trying to decide all day if you were pissed at him or just super sad, but seeing him ignore you that way made you realize that it didn’t matter. He stopped making you happy, making you both pissed and sad — a dangerous combination.

You get up and follow him in there as he hopped around trying to take his skinny jeans off.

“I’m gonna be late.” He panted, sliding inside the shower.

You assumed if he knew he would’ve said something… happy birthday… I love you… I’m sorry…

Curious and resentful, you stand close to the shower door so he could hear you. “Where are you going? I thought we…” You blink tears back, sighing and trying to get control of your wavering voice, “… I thought we could do something tonight.”

This wasn’t even the plan, but you were trying to find anyway for him to redeem himself.

“No, (Y/N). I can’t today, okay?” He snapped. “I’m in a rush. Can you please just pick out a nice outfit for me, quickly.”

You shake your head in disbelief, wiping a stray tear that rolled down your face, sniffling once. Kylian hears this and pokes his head out. “Hey,” his barely softer, “Look, sorry but I’m in a huge rush. It’s been a shit morning.”

“Me too.” You mumble, disappointment laced in your words but Kylian didn’t seem to catch onto it.

“Also, my phone shattered at some point last night, so can you call Thérèse and have her drop me off a new one at the training center?”

You huffed, getting control of your emotions that were simmering into anger. One more chance, you thought as you were about to walk out of the bathroom, you turn. “Do you want to do something when you get home? Maybe even just dinner here, a movie?”

“Maybe.” He said back, turning off the shower. All you could do is roll your eyes and bite your tongue. You were trying to give him every opportunity to come back from this.

You didn’t want to end it, but you promised yourself that if he fucks up today, that was it. You can’t keep hoping he’ll become the person he was before. He won’t listen when you talk anymore or even meet you in the middle. You have too much respect for yourself to settle for someone who can’t appreciate you.

You dry laughed. “Maybe.” You mocked, another angry tear rolling down your face, storming back into the bedroom and getting under the covers, arms crossed.

You wanted to sob, but choked it down when Kylian stormed out of the bathroom, wet and holding his towel up around his waist. “Why are you so moody?” He didn’t even look at you, just shook his head and threw his hand down, exasperated when he realized you weren’t putting an outfit together for him. “I just asked you to help me out.” He tusks. “Are you just going to lay around all day, then?”

You knew this tone. The one where something else was bothering him except he expressed it by nitpicking at anything in front of him. Being with him for so long, you knew how to gently pry out the real reason why he was snappy. Right now, there was no way were you even attempting to help him out in any way.

“Looks like it, huh?” You gritted through your teeth. You could practically feel the eye roll he gave you even though neither of you would look at each other.

He muttered something you couldn’t hear as he walked into the closet, hurriedly throwing on some outfit. “I didn’t feel like fighting today, (Y/N).” He growled and threw on a white hat. “Today has been miserable so far.”

“Miserable for you?” You gaped, face getting angrily red.

“Oh, don’t start.” He spat, grabbing his keys and walking out of the room.

You jumped up and stomped out of the room behind him, seeing him almost at the bottom of the stairs. “Kylian.”

He groaned, continuing to run down the steps. “I don’t have time for a fucking fight right now!”

“Kylian!” You yelled from the railing just as he grabbed the door handle. With an exasperated turn around, he locked eyes with your teary ones. “When you get home… we need to talk.” You didn’t try and hide your sadness this time, knowing how the talk was going to end. The sentence squeaked out, like your forced it.

He paused, taking his hand off the door handle. “Fine.” He said this differently upon seeing your broken demeanor, shuffling in place. Kylian checked his watch, looking back up at you. You stared back, watching him hesitantly leave your shared home.

Kylian knew he’d been fucking up with you lately. Coming home late, forgetting to call or text back, paying less and less attention to you as the season progressed. He knew he was getting too comfortable and at some point stopped putting in any effort. The worst was that he’d been taking his frustrations out on you, shutting you out. He watched as you tried to smile through his snarky and quick comments, feeling bad immediately but he just didn’t know how to deal with that kind of guilty emotion.

Your engagement has been a long one. Nine months in and you guys hadn’t even set a date yet. Time kept slipping through the glass, he wondered when the last time you’d even brought up the wedding was — wondering when the last time he even thought about it directly after.

The whole way to work he watched out the window, lost in thought about how he needs to be better. So much so that his driver had to tell him that they’d arrived. He was actually early. With a big fake smile on his face, he did his best to set it all aside, turning on work-mode.

Meanwhile, you had a really nice cry. The kind where you just let it all out because you knew no one was around to hear or pity you. Once you pulled yourself together, you gathered your suitcases from the attic.

It was obvious you couldn’t take everything that was yours. You’d bought so many things for this place, for your shared home… so you focused on the things you were for sure taking with you. All your clothes, makeup, sentimental items, and the fruit bowl you found in a market in Spain were secured inside your bags. You stopped and cried so many times… over a pair of shoes that he bought for you or a picture that brought back sweet memories… all these momentos felt wasted.

Yesterday, you were certain that he would remember what today was. So certain that you convinced yourself you didn’t need to get a hotel. You wished you did, because doing it today felt so final, so depressing. And, upon looking at your empty side of the closet, vanity, side table, bathroom shelf… you had to pull yourself together and be strong. Remind yourself why you’ve resorted to this.

Back at the training grounds, Kylian snapped his last photo-op with the CEO of some athletic wear company, absolutely drained from having to pretend for hours. He had sent his assistant off for a new phone when he saw her, knowing you didn’t text her about him needing one.

He trudged over to Hakimi now that all of that was over, sitting down with a long huff, placing his head in his hands. He hadn’t talked to him all day, being occupied with offers and whatnot.

“Man, I’ve been texting you all day.” He patted his back once, turning to face him.

Kylian looked up at his friend, shaking his head. “It broke last night. Thérèse is out getting me a new one now.”

Hakimi sensed there was something bothering Kylian, but knew not to approach him too strongly. He nodded at his answer. “So, uh… I bet (Y/N)’s pissed, right?”

Kylian blew a raspberry. “Oh, yeah… so pissed…” He nodded with the most exhausted look on his face. “Wait, how’d you know that?”

“Well, I mean, Hiba would be pissed too.” Kylian raised an eyebrow, still confused on how he knew about your fight. “You know, if I had to work on her birthday like this.” He laughed at the thought. “I’d have a lot of groveling to do. Or, did you guys plan something on a different day?”

Kylian gazed up at Hakimi, eyes widening with the vague memory of todays date. “Wait.” He gulped, hands hovering over his head. “Is today the…” he flipped the calendar in his mind, praying that Achraf was mistaken about that. “Ah… merde! Putain! Shit!” Kylian smacked the table and bounced up out of the chair, heart beating a million miles a minute.

Hakimi stood too, watching Kylian pace with his hands cradling his head. “No… Kylian, you didn’t…”

He nods, panic settling in hardcore. “I yelled at her today. I asked her why she was being moody. I didn’t come home last night— ah baise moi, mec. je suis un putain d'idiot!” He cursed himself. Ah fuck me, man. I’m a goddamn idiot!

Thérèse speed walked over to the man in crisis, holding a brand new phone. “All your data’s transferred and everything!” She cheered. Kylian probably didn’t even thank her, going directly to his messages with you to text you that he’s so sorry and coming home right now. When he clicked on your icon, he saw all of the messages you sent him last night

You: Ky will u please come home — 9:25 pm

You: I know ur friends are in town and all but I seriously need u with me tonight — 10:48 pm

You: hello?? — 11:51 pm

You: are u okay? Do u need a ride? — 1:35 am

You: I’m getting worried. please just reply. I need to know ur okay Kylian — 1:40 am

You: nice Snapchat story. Good to know ur fucking fine. — 2:46 am

He ran a hand over his face, beginning to sweat with guilt. His eyes lowered on the screen, the small grey message by the keyboard truly making his stomach knot up even more.

(Y/N) stopped sharing their location with you.

His heart fell in his chest, churning… he felt like he was going to puke. Suddenly all of the conversations you tried to start with him about his behavior over the last six months came flooding back. The same conversations he moaned and groaned though, always deflecting until it turned into a fight. God, how badly he had been treating you… like you were a menace in his life — when really, without you, he wouldn’t be able to go on the same.

He began trying to call you and gathered his things, but his calls simply rang until it went to voicemail. “I-I have to go.” He stammered, almost tripping over his feet. Hakimi watched, shocked at the state of his best friend, knowing how he could get sometimes.

Kylian jumped in the town car as fast as his world-renowned legs could get him there, giving the driver instructions to get him home, and quick. The whole way he cussed at slow drivers, construction workers, red lights. He checked his new phone for the time; 10:37 pm and still fifteen minutes away from home.

God, please let her still be home.

He won’t know what to do with himself if you just left.

‘We need to talk’ rung over and over again in his head like a jinx. The way your voice cracked, the tears he saw you hold back. She’s so strong, he thought.

I raised my voice at her. I forgot her birthday and then treated her like she was the problem.

He pinched his leg to distract himself from crying. He has to be level headed, calm, logical, loving, and very apologetic— everything he hasn’t been for the last months. He knows he doesn’t deserve you, but can’t imagine what his life, his future will look like if he lets you slip through his fingers.

No girl has ever made him feel like this. Everything he looked for in a woman you embodied tenfold and he fucked it up. He has to fix this.

Kylian didn’t even let the car come to a full stop when he arrived, tripping over his own feet, realizing he left his coat in the back seat but really not caring at all. He just has to know you’re there. He looked toward the driveway, seeing your car still parked in its usual spot.

Thank the lord.

Fumbling with the keys, his shaking hands clicked the door open, seeing only the living room lamp on.

“Bébé?” He called. He saw your figure looking at him from the couch. “Oh, (Y/N)…” he breathed, walking over to get closer. You stoop up, meeting him halfway. “I’m so, so sorry. I’m so sorry.” He heaved, breathless from his pounding heart.

The dull yellow light illuminating the side of your face showed him how puffy and red your eyes were, how downturned your usual smile was. He saw what he’d done to you, all the months you’ve had to walk on eggshells, the conversations that he’s turned on you, how he forgot your special day.

You still didnt say anything, keeping your arms crossed, looking him in the eye — the while begging yourself internally not to cave. His sweet eyes knew how to reel you in. You weren’t going to cave. You couldn’t.

“I forgot your birthday…” He whispered sadly, guilt drenched his tone, sending a cold depressing shiver down your spine.

Your eyes brimmed with tears again, but you bit your cheek and shook them away, having to be strong for yourself. “So, you finally remembered.” You sniffled.

“I’m so sorry, bèbè. Time just…” he stopped himself from making anymore excuses, “I’m just a fucking idiot. And I’m going to make it up to you. I promise, I’ll make it up to you.” He stammered, voice shaking from nerves.

“But, it’s not just about the birthday, Kylian. It’s been… it’s..–”

“–I know, bébé. I’ve been horrible to you. Truly horrible. You never deserved any of that.” He cautiously lifted his hand to yours, grabbing your fingers. All the words he was going to say suddenly didn’t feel good enough. No I’m sorry is going to feel sufficient.

You looked at your tangled hands, he played with your fingers anxiously, trying to catch your gaze, but it now stayed glued to the floor.

You took a deep breath and looked up at him with teary eyes — that of a wounded puppy. It broke him. “We need to talk.” Your words were laced in false strength, false confidence.

You didn’t know what the hell you were going to do once you leave him. Flying blind isn’t something you did very often, but you knew it’s what had to be done.

“Yes.” He nodded eagerly, trying to guide your hand toward the couch to sit. “Let’s talk. We can talk this all out, right?”

His hopeful tone made your heart break even more. The guiltiness that radiated off of him made it harder to do what you had to… his face fell when you let your hand slip back into your folded arms, turning away from him, sniffling.

“Kylian, I can’t… I can’t sit down with you and hold your hand and let you apologize to me. It’s not how this is gonna go.” Wiping your cheeks roughly, you turned to see his dropped face. “This talk… it’s going to be really hard. For both of us.”

He approached you, putting his hands on your forearms. “You’re scaring me, bèbè.”

Your lip quivered, not knowing how to tell him. You couldn’t look him in the eyes. “Kylian. I love you.”

“I love you too. I love you so much, (Y/N). I know we can work through this. I know it.” He pleaded, moving his face around to try and get you to look at him.

“No, Kylian. I love you, but…” You finally looked up, noticing he’d started crying as well. Ouch. “I don’t think I can do this anymore.”

He didn’t know what he was expecting. Sure, he was scared and sorry about what he did but the possibility of breaking up seemed impossible. Not like he was immune to repercussions, but you two just made sense. He loves you impossibly too much, but he’s forgotten to show you.

Kylian stood in shock, he felt his heartbeat in his teeth, his throat dry. “Don’t say that.” He whimpered. “Please, don’t say that.”

His hands traveled up to hold your face and he bent down to your level, needing you to look at him, to see how regretful he was, how much harder he will work at this. He touched his forehead to yours, wrestling with the temptation of falling down from anguish.

You shook your head between his palms, letting the tears fall freely, a small sob escaping. He wiped away the tears with his thumbs, attempting to hold you closer, squeaking out the smallest words; “Bèbè.” “No, no.” “Please.” “I’m so sorry.”

You grabbed his wrists, using all your strength to pull them from your face. Immediately, you turned around and grabbed a duffel bag he hadn’t noticed was sitting on the armchair. Your feet took you toward the exit.

“No.” His voice broken, his own face scrunched up and soaked with tears. “No, where are you going?”

It took everything in you not to comfort him, run into his arms, tell him it will be okay.

You pushed your instincts down and turning and shrugged instead, now feet away from the man you love, closing in on the front door. “I’m…” You felt a choking sob threatening to spill out of your mouth and had to look away, silently crying out with your hand covering you mouth. With a deep breath, you continued. “I’m leaving.”

“Well, when will you be back?” In just a few strides, he was back in front of you. He couldn’t help but hold your face again, wiping more tears with a gentle but pleading touch.

You gripped his wrists again, only this time, you weren’t strong enough to pull them away, instead feeling his warm skin one more time.

With a small shake of the head, you responded. “I’m not coming back, Kylian.”

“But… but this is your home. It’s our home.”

“I’m sorry, Kylian.” You finally ripped his hands from your face once more and adjusted the heavy strap on your shoulder. Turning around, your feet drag you to the front door. You reach into your back pocket and take out the house key that’s not longer attatched to your usual tassel keychain and set it down on the table.

He stood there and watched, now feeling helpless in this heart wrenching situation. It doesn’t seem like this is real, he has to be having a nightmare, just watching you leave his life and there’s nothing he can do about it — but it doesn’t stop him from trying, begging. “Amour, no. I can fix this, please just give me a chance to make this right.” He was desperate, once again approaching you.

Kylian sniffled, watching your every reaction, hoping for a glint of anything that would allow him to make it up to you. You looked down at your hands, then your left ring finger… everything in your body was holding you back from taking it off, but you mustered up every ounce of self control.

Kylian looked away as you slid the engagement ring off, hearing the light clink of it being set next to the keys. With his hands at his sides, back slouching, he looked back at your face, nodding in defeat.

“I’m sorry.” You repeated in a squeaky whisper.

“Me too.” He nods, looking down at your empty hand. He couldn’t but reach out, trapping your fingers delicately with his fingers, stepping closer.

His arm snakes around your waist, holding you, shaking with his suppressed cries. You allowed yourself to hug him back, to close the chapter, to feel his warm embrace again before you never would again.

The hug lasted for a while, swaying back and forth and crying into each others shoulders. He smelled like he always did, and you noted how hard it would be if you came across his familiar scent again. He also was getting high on your fumes, indulging in the coconut scented shampoo he had become addicted to. The touch of your hands clasping at his back made him cry harder, squeezing you tighter and lovingly.

You pulled back once your cries calmed, sniffling. He stayed close, lifting his eyes to look into yours. Before he knew how to stop himself, he closed in the space, landing his salty lips on yours, closing his eyes. You kissed him back, hating how much you’d miss him. The way his fingers dug into your hips made you lightheaded.

It’s too hard to stop, but you had to. Pulling away, you turned around quickly and left, sobbing all the way to your packed up car.

Kylian was glued in place. His heart had been put through a blender, his head throbbed, his chest was cold without you with him. He saw the flash of your headlights backing out and leaving the property reflect inside the dark and empty home.

He’s miserable, hollow. He’s angry at himself, maybe at you, even if he knows this was his own doing… the whirling in his brain wasn’t anywhere near as loud as the silence after you left — a deafening silence that followed him up to us bedroom, one he now only shared with his thoughts.

It killed him when he saw there was no longer a charger plugged next to your side of the bed, that your slippers were gone from their usual spot by the corner. None of your favorite books were displayed on the shelves, your skincare products left just a ring of residue on the sink. Stepping into the closet, he noticed it still smelled like you, but everything was gone. Everything but the shirts of his that you had stolen through the years, now neatly folded on top of one of his dressers. He wished you had taken them to remember him. He wished he could turn back time and do everything right.

Above all the sadness and the gaping hole is his heart was determination. He fucked up but he wasn’t about to do it again. You would not be the one that got away. It may be the last thing he ever does, but he’ll make it all up to you. He was prepared to go to the furthest lengths to hold you again. But, for now, he needed to wallow in self pity, feel everything that he needs to feel.

Not even on the chilliest Parisian night had his bed felt as cold as it did that day.

A/N: Okay I feel like I kinda dragged that out but angst! I’m contemplating a part 2 but I also kinda like leaving it at this… would y’all want another part? Also, the title is inspired by the song The Loneliest by Måneskin, listen to it after reading. Their new album is so fucking amazing. — Requests for Kylian Mbappé are open! —

#kylian imagines #kylian mbappe #kylian mbappe angst #kylian mbappe fluff #kylian mbappe smut #kylian mbappé x reader #achraf hakimi #kylian mbappe imagine #kylian mbappé imagine #kylian x reader #kylian mbappe x you #kylian mbappe blurb #kylian mbappe fic #Kylian mbappe break up #neymar #neymar imagines #neymar jr imagine

[greatooglymooglyyy]

The Last Ride (An AU Cowboy!C.Sturniolo Story)

summary: when spoiled and sheltered city girl Y/N finds herself in running in the wrong crowd, her dad gives her an ultimatum. it's either spend the summer of her gap year on her uncle's ranch or face being cut off and finding a job. just when she thinks it can't get any worse, she meets Chris, the brooding farmhand who thinks he knows her type. but as the summer goes on, they both realize there may be more to the other than meets the eye.

requested and advised by @rootbeerworshiper

contains: cursing, drinking, drug use, emotional manipulation, kissing, sexual aggression, 1.2k words

a/n: hiiiii guys, welcome. this is my first real series and i really hope you like it. this chapter is set up and does not include Chris yet. we'll met him in chapter one. but i wanted to establish Y/N first. love you guys.

series masterlist

Prologue

“You have to come! We’re literally celebrating your birthday.” Brielle whines, frowning over her latte at me.

I roll my eyes, lean back in my chair, and cross my arms. ”My birthday isn’t for another two weeks. You guys just want an excuse to party.”

Jace tuts, throwing his arm over the back of my chair and leaning forward to give me his signature grin. “C’mon, don’t turn all lame on us. It’ll be fun. We haven’t had a good party since graduation.”

My heart speeds up stupidly at his attention, especially when he moves his hand up to squeeze my shoulder. I sigh, letting my eyes scan the table of my friend’s faces, before agreeing reluctantly.

The conversation turns to who’s bringing the alcohol and I pick my phone up, tuning them out. I love my friends, I really do. But lately, I don’t know how much I like them. Everything with them is so fucking boring. If it’s not about a party, drugs, or who’s wearing knockoff Cartier, they never have anything to say.

But as I think this, Jace leans over me to speak to one of the boys and I remember why I deal with any of this at all. He’s been my best friend for more than half my life and I’ve been in love with him for longer than I can remember. I resist the urge to push his floppy hair out of his face, knowing he only likes me to touch him when no one is around to see.

I push the thoughts out of my head and send my dad a text to let them know I won’t be at family night tonight making up an excuse about researching colleges. The sad face my he sends back almost immediately squeezes my heart but I just set my phone down and look up at my friends.

“So what are we wearing?”

***********

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me!” I exclaim as Jace pulls into the parking lot. The parking lot of my dad’s new investment, a run-down old abandoned warehouse.

“Jace, my dad will actually kill me if we get caught.” He rolls his eyes as he puts the car in park, reaching over to tuck my hair behind my ear.

“Can you relax? We’re not going to get caught, alright?" He winks at me before opening his door and hopping out.

"Be careful when you get out. Last time you left smudges on my door." He says before closing his door and heading inside.

"Oh no!" I mutter sarcastically. "Not fingerprints on your precious Lexus." I sigh and drop my head into my hands, needing a second before I get out.

Brielle and Lydia giggle in the backseat, opening the door and sliding out before smoothing down their miniskirts. “Hurry up, Y/N. I don’t want the boys flirting with any randos just because we’re not there.”

“Randos? I thought this was just going to be a few of us!” I say, finally stepping out of the car carefully. Lydia shrugs, locking arms with Brielle and walking ahead of me into the party. I tilt my head up at the sky, straining to see the stars, and send up a little prayer that tonight doesn’t get out of control before I follow them in.

The warehouse is filthy and I turn my nose up as I avoid stepping on the broken glass and beer cans littering the floor, but the boys have clearly tried to set the mood. There are a few folding tables scattered around the space, one piled with cheap bottles of liquor; they always keep the top shelf for the in-crowd. They've strung up some lights that give the space some much-needed light and someone bought a speaker that is blasting Drake.

There are people everywhere already and I scan through the bodies until I spot Jace in a corner leaning over some blonde. Of course. I ignore the feeling in my chest and push through the crowd until I find the rest of my friends. Brielle gives me a sympathetic look when she sees my face and I shrug with forced indifference.

“Pass me the Don Julio.”

***********

I giggle uncontrollably as I sway to the music in the middle of the crowd. Lydia grinds on some guy she just met, looking over her shoulder to see if her boyfriend notices.

I feel a hand on my waist and I turn to see Jace giving me his grin. “Are you drunk?”

“N-No!” I hiccup, immediately breaking into laughter that he joins.

“Come on.” He grabs my hand and leads me to a storage room, shutting the door behind us. I look up at him in confusion before he comes closer, dunking his head to kiss me roughly. I kiss him back cautiously but when he puts his hand up my dress, I push him away with a hand on his chest.

“Wait, Jace. Not here.” He rolls his eyes and leans forward again, pressing me into the wall.

“I’m serious!” I say, pushing him away again. He huffs in anger and steps back, glaring at me.

“Why are you such a fucking prude all of a sudden?” He barks out and I blink at him in surprise.

“Because I don’t want to fuck in some storage closet in the middle of a party?” I ask sarcastically, leaning on the wall to help my balance.

“God, you are such a princess.” He sniffs, rubbing his arm over his nose and it clicks.

“Oh my god, Jace. Seriously? You said you were done with cocaine.” I snap, reaching forward to place a hand on his arm but he snatches away.

“What are you, my mother?" He scoffs, turning away from me. "Whatever dude. I’m out of here. You’re not the only pussy at this party.” He says, throwing open the door and slamming it shut behind him.

I stand frozen for a minute before hunching over and placing my hands on my knees. I bite back the sobs that are threatening to fall and try to compose myself. I knew before I ever started this friends with benefits bullshit with Jace that he'd break my heart, telling myself it'd be worth it to have him at all. But Jace off blow is a whole different breed of asshole. I give myself a few more minutes before I straighten up and prepare to go back to the party.

But when I place my hand on the door handle, I get a gut feeling that something is wrong. The hum of the party has changed; the music has been cut and the chatter sounds more panicked now than fun.

I throw the door open and step out, seeing everyone running around and grabbing their stuff. I ask someone who's passing by what's going on but they ignore me and jet outside.

“Freeze!”

My heart hits the floor and I curse loudly as realization sets in. Cops. I look around for Jace or any of my friends but they are nowhere to be found. They have to be here. They wouldn’t have left me. Would they?

I try to figure out what to do next but in my confusion, I run right into a police officer who looks very unimpressed.

“We got one.” He says over his shoulder, taking my arm.

No. No. No. I groan in defeat, letting him lead me to the patrol car when I hear a familiar voice behind me and turn.

“It’s okay, officer. Unfortunately, that one belongs to me.” My dad says, the disappointment so thick in his voice that I bring my eyes to the ground.

Great.

taglist: @sturniolho @sttzee @tillies33ssss @miloisdone1 @sstvrnioloo @junnniiieee07 @sturnioloslurps @mrsmiagreer @asturniolos @teapartyprincess4two

#sturniolo triplets #christopher sturniolo #matt sturniolo #nick sturniolo #chris sturniolo x reader #sturniolo fluff #chris sturniolo #chris sturniolo fluff #chris sturniolo oneshot #matt sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo x you #matthew sturniolo #chris sturniolo headcanon #chris sturniolo angst #chris sturniolo smut #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo x reader #sturniolo smut #sturniolo fic #sturniolo au #cowboy!chris sturniolo

[bubbles-for-all-of-us]

Pretty like the sun

Previous chapter / Last chapter

a/n This is pretty like the wind series spin offs. This can be read as standalone all you need to know is that Azriel has two adoptive kids with OC - Zofie and Axel. Future stories related to them might include stories specifically decided to Azriel hence why I am taging it as Azriel story too. Don't come at me please. ✨ Azriel’s pov is in this one. 🤍🫧

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Nyx’s pov:

He felt choked up as he flew over Velaris. They were far away from the crowded halls, yet Nyx still felt as if someone had their hands over his neck. It pressed deeply into his throat. He tried to breathe her in. His Sunny. The only good thing about his miserable existence. She was here. With him. In his arms. Holding onto him. He felt her heart beating. Her warm breath caressing the nape of his neck. It felt like a full-circle moment when he once again landed right in front of the lake cabin.

“You’re still shaking," Zofie muttered as Nyx carefully lowered her to the ground. Even the moon up above played in her favor. Making her skin look like porcelain. Her dark hair resembled the night sky Nyx had forgotten how to love. “I’m fine," he muttered, simply not dropping his eyes away from her.

Zofie stepped out of his reach. It was a logical move. There was no reason to hold onto one another. They weren’t in the sky anymore. She could very well stand on her own. But Nyx pulled her to him almost immediately. His fingers were itching to touch her.

"Nyx," she breathed when her cheek pressed against his chest once more. “Just a bit longer," he muttered, kissing the crown on her head and letting his lips linger there before adding, "Please." Zofie pulled back from him slightly. Just enough for her to look up at him, “You’re making me worried," she breathed. Her golden eyes pierced right through Nyx’s soul. He knew why it was strange. He hated physical touch. Too much smothering from his family had left him skittish of affection. But not with her. Never with her, even if he declined her at times.

“I just..." His words came out strangled, followed by a big gulp of air. “Are you having a panic attack?” Now she was pulling back, her tiny palms pressing against the left side of his chest. “No… I don’t know," Nyx admitted, running a clammy hand over his neck. Zofie looked at him for a heartbeat. A light frown settled permanent lines into her forehead. “You’re deep purple," she breathed, reaching for Nyx’s hands instantly, deep inky wains connecting them. “What?", Nyx managed to crock out before she started pulling him towards the cabin. His eyes lingered on their joined hands. It looked as if she was pulling the darkness out of him, and that didn’t sit right with him. The last thing Nyx wanted was to tarnish her with his demons. Yet he couldn’t seem to pull his hand out of her grasp. "Purple," Zofie muttered under her breath for what felt like a thousand times before she finally turned to face him, “What can I do?”. Her eyes were desperate as she searched through the cracks in Nyx’s mask.

He knew what the logical answer was. They would both benefit if they just sat there. If they didn’t get tangled up, pulling apart would be too painful. He knew that their parents would never approve, and this would just birth false hope that they could, after all, somehow be together. Yet he still mumbled a quiet, “Hold me.”

Zofie nodded as she went into the same room they had spent endless hours in. The bed was neatly made in the middle. The big windows give a clear view of the lake right in front of them. "Lay," she said, pushing Nyx towards the bed before bending to undo her heels. “This seems suggestive," he muttered, feeling pieces of his true self surfacing. "Nyx, you ass, lay down," she snickered, pushing at his chest. But he didn’t budge. He had promised her to appreciate the way she looked, so he let his eyes linger on her body and the way that expensive silk hugged all the right places. “Don’t get fucking ideas, you hear me?”, Zofie pointed a finger at him before hiking up her skirt as she climbed onto the mattress. Nyx couldn’t tear his eyes away from her. Mother above had crafted this girl in front of him. She couldn’t possibly be of the same breed as them all. No. Maybe, just like YN, she was part angel blood. Or maybe she was just an angel. Pure angel. And in that moment, Nyx couldn’t find a single reason why someone like her would want any piece of him. She straddled him with ease, and Nyx’s hands instantly reached for her hips. He was desperate to let his fingers slip beneath the material of her dress, but he held himself back. Especially since Zofie stiffened slightly at his touch, but with one final glance, she plopped her whole body right on top of his. Nyx let out a surprised huff. “What are you doing?” he asked.

“Putting pressure on your chest," she said as if it was the most self-explanatory thing to do. “For?” Nyx questioned, not that he was complaining. Zofie shifted slightly, and so did Nyx, angling his head to look down at her. “What happened to your eye?”, she muttered, her delicate fingers reaching out to touch a faint bruise on his face. It was beyond him how she still saw it because he was convinced that it had almost fully faded. No one had mentioned it when he returned home from the camps.

“Just a fight," Nyx shrugged slightly. “Have you been picking fights?”, Zofie glared at him with a slight shake of her head. “You left me unsupervised," he mused, brushing a strand of hair away from her eyes. “You seem of age to take care of yourself, no?”, her fingers continued to run soothing brushes beneath his eye. And then it dawned on him: “You’re distancing me," he huffed, making her smile ever so slightly. “Is it working?”, she asked innocently. His smart, smart girl. Leave it to her to know exactly what he needed.

“God, you’re pretty," Nyx breathed out after a moment of silence. "Stop," she growled, turning to hide her face in his chest, but Nyx was quick enough to catch her chin. “No, you need to know that." His gaze caught hers, and he was ready to swear that he was never going to look away. “I’m sorry that I said all of that to your father. I had no right, and you need to know how much I've regretted it ever since." The words fell out one after another. He had run over and over again in his head every single day they had been apart. "Nyx," Zofie muttered tenderly.

Nyx simply shook his head and said, “You trusted me, and I just went and spoiled it all." He felt his chest tighten with panic once more. "Nyx shut up," she huffed, cupping his cheek. “I’m not mad at you anymore," she promised. “You should be, and I deserve to be miserable," he reasoned back, but now it was her time to shake her head, “Don’t say that; never say that.”

“I missed you so much, fuck Sunny," Nyx muttered, feeling his eyes filling up with tears. His body was singing now that she was right here with him. “Do you even know how much I missed you?”, he questioned her, leaning in to press his forehead against hers. “Yeah, my heart has been aching ever since we parted," Zofie muttered, biting her lip to prevent her chin from wobbling. “Can I hold you through the night?”, Nyx blurted out, making Zofie let out a surprised gasp. “You’re supposed to hate cuddling, remember?”, she threw his own words back at him with a smirk. Nyx traced his fingers over her bottom lip, “Not with you, never with you." She inhaled shakily before nodding her head and saying, “Then yes, hold me through the night."

Azriel’s pov:

It was his first outing in weeks, and to say that he hated this party would have been an understatement. You always made it better. Filling in all the empty spaces in conversations that Azriel didn’t want to hold. Now you were back home with your daughter, and he was stuck here. How was that fair? His senses were still too sharp. That needs to protect what was only his running thickly through his blood. Until his eyes landed on the young man's, true, strong soldier’s stance. A smile tugged at Azriel’s lips.

“The uniform suits you, son," he breathed, clasping his oldest on the shoulder. Axel’s stance eased as he dropped all formalities, “I must honor our family.” And quite frankly, that’s all Axel has been doing. Azriel had told him many times that he didn’t have to prove himself to him. Azriel didn’t need titles. But Axel had stomped his foot on all that. He had been desperate to go foot-to-foot with Azriel. “You could be out there being a professional singer, and I still would be proud of you," Azriel reassured him. “Now that you mentioned it...", Axel smirked at his father, who too couldn’t help an honest chuckle.

“You’ve seen Zo?”, and it’s like all the blood had left him. His skin growing slightly greenish. “About that...", Axel sighed with a nervous laugh. “She’s with Nyx, isn’t she?", Azriel folded his arms over his chest. “Papa, you know...", Axel cut in, but Azriel shook his head. “I’m not going to say anything. Your mother said I need to get my shit together." And you did. Had sat him down for a long conversation. The thing was that Azriel didn’t hate or dislike Nyx. He was a smart young man. It was the letting go of Zofie that frightened him. The fact that she wouldn’t need him for comfort anymore. That she would find her peace within someone else. And he knew now, well after a couple of smacks on the head from you, that he was selfish in the way he kept dragging her back to him.

“He’s been missable, you know," Axel sighed, looking over the crowd. “Over what?”, Azriel asked. Only a handful of family members got through the walls the young prince had built. Azriel wasn’t a stranger to Rhys’s worried face when he would drift off mid-conversation these days, no doubt troubled by the fact that his blood and flesh was guarded away from him.

“Well, from what I gathered, Zo told him that they couldn’t be friends anymore, and Nyx practically lost all will to live." Old wounds cracked deep with Azriel’s chest. He knew that feeling all too well. You had been his light in the never-ending darkness. He had given up on joy and the future. But then in walked you.

“I think he likes her, like really likes her," Axel mused, turning towards his father. Azriel ran a hand over his stubble. “You probably think that I’m a monster for reacting the way I did." He had seen disapproval in Axel’s eyes as they all listened to her cry. Cry over the things Azriel has done. “No, I thought about bashing his nose in when I first realized that my best friend had feelings for my sister." Axel shrugged, earning a snicker from Azriel.

“So what changed?”, he asked quietly. Axel stayed silent for a heartbeat, “I think they are vital for one another. Zofie never has flare-ups when she’s with him, and Nyx... I think she pulls him out of the depths of his misery." Azriel bit the inside of his cheek, trying to hold a straight face. He had deep conversations with Axel before. On many topics. Love had been the only thing Azriel had held back from discussing. Even after a handful of years in a happy marriage, he did not feel confident enough to share what he knew.

“You’re a good friend, Axel, a good young man." Azriel patted Axel’s cheek before flicking his nose playfully. “I learned from the best now, didn’t I?, Axel said proudly. Azriel’s heart skipped a beat. Like it always did when he saw his kids looking up at him with nothing other than love. “Don’t; if I start tearing up in front of all of the generals, I will personally put you on bathroom duty," Azriel warned playfully as Axel threw him a challenging grin before nudging his father’s shoulder and saying, "I love you, Dad." Azriel put the boy in a headlock, ruffling his hair. “I love you too, Axel. Always will”.

As he pulled back, he saw something different glistening in Axel’s eyes. Not to mention that his attention was somewhere completely different. “How did you know that you were in love?”, Axel muttered. Azriel followed his gaze. A light smile tugged at his lips as he caught a girl in a gray robe hiding behind a pillar. “Nothing made sense without your mom, and for the first time, I felt as if I could show my deepest scars and the person in front of me wouldn’t run." It was the most truthful he had ever been when it came to love. Axel turned his attention back to his father; no doubt the words had stuck him deep. “It felt like coming home, Ax," Azriel muttered, watching the way little puzzle pieces fell into place for his oldest. Axel gave him a strong nod before ushering deeper into the crowd.

Zofie’s pov:

The morning sun filled the room. Warm rays of sunshine tickled the exposed skin on her back. Even with Nyx’s hand wrapped tightly over her back and providing heat to her through the night, Zofie still smiled at the feeling of the sun hitting her skin. They hadn’t talked much last night. Instead, stealing touches in the dark. Both felt the courage the moon had provided.

And now, with an early morning above them, she was watching him sleep. Staying as quiet as the mouse. Not daring to reach out and brush away his messy hair from his face. Not until the urge got too strong. She was careful. Just the moment her fingers touched his forehead, Zofie couldn’t help but frown. It was warm. Way too warm than usual. Had he fallen ill? Was it because she had stayed too close to him through the night?

Turning Zofie sat up, letting the blanket fall from her body. The worry was simmering inside her. She reached out once more. Hoping to carefully wake him up, she let her fingers brush over his warm face. Nyx’s eyes blinked open slowly, and the moment his purple orbs looked straight at her, something deep within her cracked. Cracked so loudly that, for a second, her hearing went out. She had pulled her palm away in hopes of covering her ears, only to freeze at the sight of her palm.

No. There was no way. This had to be a mistake. Maybe she too had fallen ill, considering that it felt like her own body was on fire now. “What is it?”, Nyx’s husky voice filled her senses. She watched as yellow, shimmering dust fell from his cheek. From where her palm had rested only moments ago. "Nothing," Zofie blurted out, trying to smile through the panic within her.

Nyx rolled over, his hands reaching out for her once more. “You’re too far away," he grumbled. “I’m sitting right beside you, Nyx," her voice cracked slightly, but he didn’t catch it as he snuggled deeper into her thigh. “You’re too far away," his fingers dug into her skin, “I want to be under your skin; be a part of you.”

Zofie felt the heat of his skin. A light frown ran down her face as she pulled away. He didn’t usually talk like that. Scrambling to get out of bed, she let her bare feet hit the wooden floor. Nyx let out an annoyed grumble, pulling his head up from the mattress. She caught a glimpse of his eyes then. No longer purple. No. The pupils were so dialed that they looked almost black. Wild eyes. Despite eyes. "Nyx," she breathed. “Get into bed," he muttered, sitting up.

“I don’t want to. We should go back," and it’s like she unleashed something deep within him. The thought of others unsettled something deep within him. He clenched his jaw before the back of his palms dug into his eyes. Something deep within her urged her to run. To hide, at least. She used to think that she heard her mother and dad warning her in her head. It had stopped at a certain age, but now it felt the same. So she slowly itched towards the door.

“Don’t even think about it, Zof," Nyx muttered, his voice raspy. “Don’t run, because I will chase you, and I don’t know what I will do." He let out a painful groan, making Zofie desperately want to reach out to him. “What are you feeling?”, she asked, her voice barely a whisper. Nyx laughed slightly, “You, I feel you." And then his Illyrian wings flustered behind him. Zofie nearly collapsed against the door. He always warned her before he shifted.

“You’ve been away from me for too long," Nyx breathed, moving to get out of bed. Her heart skipped a beat. Run. A voice rang out in her head, crippling her for a second before she turned back, quickly unlocking the door as she broke into a sprint. "Zofie," a warning growl rang out behind her. She could feel him. Feel the mix of emotions bubbling within him. He was practically breathing against her neck. There was no way she could outrun him. He was much faster and stronger. And driven by the force, she would no doubt lose the battle to.

Her panicked mind raced as she ran in zigzags, dodging Nyx’s hands in the shelter of trees. “Zofie, come on," he pleaded, but she didn’t even look back. She needed to get out. Get to her dad. He would know what to do. He would know what was happening. A gasp left her lips when she felt Nyx’s warm fingers lacing against her upper arm. She was screaming for a second before everything suddenly shifted, and she fell back into the pile of something soft. Zofie reached out around her blindly. Leaves. Her heart was hammering in her throat. She waited for Nyx to grab her. Waited to feel the heat from him. But nothing came. Nothing changed.

“What are you doing here?”, a voice startled her, making Zofie’s eyes fly open. Her blood ran cold for the second time that morning. Until a second figure emerged from behind the frame towering over her. “Zofie?”, a confused face glanced down at her no doubt disheveled frame. “Uncle Luci," she muttered right as the male in front of her crouched down to wrap his jacket over her shoulders.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Taglist: @sirenpearldust @historygeekqueen @hnyclover @i-am-a-lost-girl16 @naturakaashi @stressed-reader @woodland-mist @goldenmagnolias @nocasdatsgay @lees-chaotic-brain @elle4404

#nyx x oc #nyx imagine #nyx x reader #nyx acotar #nyx archeron #nyx #nyx acotar imagine #nyx acotar x oc #nyx acotar x reader #acotar x reader #acotar x you #acotar x oc #acotar imagine #azriel x oc #azriel x you #azriel imagine #azriel x reader #azriel shadowsinger #azriel acotar imagine #azriel spymaster #azriel acotar

[gloomy-prince]

SUPER OLD RAINBOW! ART THREAD!!! Open only if you are brave enough to face teen me's cringe art...

(mostly joking but fr white Mimi and skinny Boo jumpscare below)

Very first digital piece of Boo and Mimi circa 2011!! I was 14 when I drew this. Usually I'm able to look back fondly at super old art of mine but this one does make me cringe a liiiiittle bit. Mimi girl what are you wearing, why are you white. Boo also had pink eyes in the beginning, which she would continue to have for several years to come (even in the current iteration of RAINBOW! they were pink at first, I later recolored those pages) but it was only later that it was due to the color scheme of the comic and not because they were literally pink. I'm pretty sure they were meant to be contacts, because their hair is and always have been dyed rather than anime-esque natural colorful hair, so that was some crazy dedication from Boo back in the day.

More 2011 art showing off Mimi's goth/scene-ish style and green eyes. They were initially meant to have pastel and neon fashion senses, respectively. The story was already named at this point, only a few days or maybe weeks into its inception, which is impressive considering it has taken us literal years to name other stories (I'm looking at you, Phantom Pains)

this one is from super early 2012! Interesting to think that this was less than 9 months later since it feels completely different to me. The first version of the comic had started at this point, and the pink and green color scheme was just starting to develop. This lineup features some characters that would later be cut. Lucian and Lily were friends of Boo, and Cecilia was Mimi's ex girlfriend. Notably Clarice is not on this lineup, and frankly I'm not sure why.

A picture I drew to commemorate 50 fans on RAINBOW!'s smackjeeves page, mid 2012. Boo's outfit resembled a recolored version of her 2011 outfit, but I have no idea what Mimi is wearing. What. are. you. wearing.

Chibi-ish drawings of Boo and Mimi cosplaying various characters, from early 2013. Homura Mimi is very funny to me, I really don't know why I didn't draw her as Kyoko. I assume I was trying to keep them as paired characters, but I didn't do that with the Sailor Moon or Disney ones, so I who knows why I did it with PMMM. Mimi's hairstyle changes to a shaved cut somewhere around this time, but it is much more dramatic than her current undercut, and her hair is still pretty long. Boo is wearing a closet cosplay of Fluttershy that I myself wore once. These also resemble the chibi-ish drawings on the chapter intermission pages of RAINBOW! Vol 1.

A character study I did in late 2013, which would be shortly after I made a major style shift into the art style that would eventually develop into the one I currently have. At this point, Boo was meant to be fatter than Mimi, but the execution wasn't really there at all. There is also a doodle at the bottom of me and Sunny at the time (I am the one with long hair), expressing thanks for 300 fans on smackjeeves. Considering it had 50 in mid 2012, the readership was pretty slow growing back then.

outfit exploration for Mimi, circa 2014. At this point I started to expand the color scheme a little bit more so that not every character would be paper-white, though she is still very pale even though she is no longer meant to be white anymore. None of these outfits really resemble her current style, and I don't particularly like any of them either. It took me a very long time to settle on a fashion sense for her.

an Adventure Time-eqsue drawing of Mimi and Boo that I actually drew less than two weeks after the previous image despite the difference in things such as the way the hair was drawn. I had to include this one because it blew up overnight, which was a huge deal for highschool me, I remember checking my phone at school a lot because it was just getting hundreds or even thousands of notes over the span of the day. I think it has something like 16,000 notes. Still the post with the highest number of notes I have by far, so I guess I peaked in high school, whomp whomp

More fashion exploration, this time of Mimi and Boo, from early 2015. The color scheme is starting to approach what it currently is, but much more dull since I used to be afraid of bright colors. Mimi's fashion sense is starting to get closer to what it currently is, but the pastel goth influence that was popular in early-mid 2010s tumblr is apparent. In chapter 1, Boo wears an outfit that is extremely similar to the one with the bear shirt, except it's a rabbit instead. The dress that Mimi gives to Boo is also almost identical to the depiction of it here. This drawing implies that Mimi was originally going to be present in the film noir scene where Boo finds her mom, which is interesting...

Another cast lineup! This one is from late 2015-early 2016. Mimi is wearing an outfit pretty similar to what she wears in chapter 1 but with the colors altered. The execution of Boo's body type is starting to improve but she's still kind of pear-shaped. Mimi is also a little more square, and her hair finally looks like the style she has now. Clarice gets to be in the lineup this time and she is SUPER tall. I think she is still taller than Milo. And Mimi is around 5'7"-5'8", so Clarice must be around 6 foot by that logic.

The original version of chibi-ish Boo riding a bike in her Kiki outfit, from 2016. I think it was meant to be a banner of some kind, possibly for tapas or tumblr. A newer version of this drawing features as a chapter intermission drawing in the physical book.

The original cover for RAINBOW! from 2017. The color scheme is finally starting to get a little brighter! This is actually a redraw of an older drawing from 2014, I want to draw it again someday. Also, I was going by Rain at the time.

A drawing I did in late 2017 for a class in which we were meant to try digital painting and I went for a very simple approach. I like that Mimi's legs are a little noodle-y. This is also the first drawing where Mimi's eyes are no longer green, but dark pink instead. By the language of RAINBOW!'s color scheme, that means they are brown. Boo's eyes are still pink, however.

Another drawing for a class, this time from 2018. I can't remember the specifics of the assignment, but I used the opportunity to draw the playground and Max, the dog, for the first time. I like the way the trees look in this. That little snip of hair by Mimi's ear also made a reappearance here for some reason.

The original version of the drawing that would become the cover of RAINBOW! Vol 1, from mid 2019! I believe I drew it to be a banner on Tapas, but I used it for tumblr as well.

And lastly, Boo and Mimi outfit sheets from 2019-2020. I messed with them for a while, hence the timeframe. Boo's eyes are finally green, which I changed since I liked the idea of Mimi having green hair and pink eyes, and Boo having pink hair and green eyes, as if they are reflected a bit in each other. Outside of RAINBOW!'s color scheme, Boo's eyes are actually blue though. It took about a decade, but I finally settled on a fashion sense for Mimi.

BONUS ART!!! 💖💖✨✨ I thought these would be better grouped together rather than chronologically with the rest.

RAINBOW!'s banners from its era on smackjeeves! Smackjeeves didn't have square/circular icons but rather these thin long banners which could also be animated. I thought that was so fun, so I always animated them at least a little, even though one doesn't seem to work. It was customary to write girls love/boys love on the banner of mlm/wlw romance stories then, so almost all of them say that. I still see that trend on some comics on webtoon and tapas nowadays. They are from 2011, 2012, 2013, 2014, and 2017. I don't believe the 2017 one was ever used.

And RAINBOW!'s icon throughout the years! I always refused to change it, only update it, because I thought it was really cute. They are from (approximately) 2017, 2018, 2020, and 2021.

And finally, art from 2021 of Mimi with her cousin August, who will be the protagonist of our next comic, Phantom Pains. Weird to think that we'll be on that comic in foreseeable future, since it is also over 10 years old now. Bit of a passing the torch type drawing to end on. 💕 If you made it all the way here, thanks for reading! Hopefully it was fun and didn't hurt your eyes.

#rainbow! #rainbow #webcomic #webtoon #tapas comic #lgbt #lgbtq #wlw #lesbian #lgbt webcomic #queer webcomic

[merrybloomwrites]

I Hear Them Calling (Chapter 6)

Story Summary: Alpha Harry Styles and omega Y/N Y/L/N meet under less than ideal circumstances. Overtime their paths will cross and they will be drawn to one another in ways they never expected.

Chapter Summary: Harry is full of surprises including a package shipped to Y/N's home, shows cancelled due to the flu, and an unexpected visit.

Previous Chapters: Prologue ; Chapter 1 ; Chapter 2 ; Chapter 3 ; Chapter 4 ; Chapter 5

Word Count: 4.8k

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

There’s over five weeks between when you arrive home from Chigaco and when you finally have your doctor's appointment scheduled. The first week, you feel totally fine. Spending a full weekend with Harry, dropping in his presence, and being scented by him has completely taken care of your touch deprivation symptoms. Temporarily.

By week two the dizziness starts to creep up again. Then the itching, followed by the chills. No matter what you do, you just cannot seem to get warm. Towards the end of the third week, it’s starting to become unbearable. You’re constantly exhausted and shaky and just so cold.

Even though you have been talking to Harry almost every day, you haven’t told him how bad the depri has been getting. Part of you still hasn’t gotten over your pride. It’s difficult to admit that you need help just due to your biology. The other part of you doesn’t want to worry him. You know how busy he is and the last thing you want to do is add another stressor.

Even without you saying anything, the alpha seems to sense that you’re struggling. Just as it’s getting really bad a package arrives at your door. It’s a huge box and when you open it you find it filled with a number of smaller, sealed bags.

There’s a note on top, handwritten by Harry, that reads:

Dear Y/N,

I hope you’ve been doing well since we last saw each other. I know you still haven’t been able to get new soothers yet and I was worried your touch deprivation symptoms might be bothering you again. I remember you saying that nesting doesn’t help much without other scents present.

I’ve scented a number of materials for you. Sarah has as well, in case it’s better to have a variety. The bags will trap the scent in, which is why I’ve separated the materials into a few different bags. You can open each as you need more, and they’ll hold on to our scents longer.

I know nesting is very private for omegas, so don’t feel like you need to report back if it worked or not, though I’m always here to listen if you’d like to talk about it.

Sincerely Yours,

Harry

It’s late-afternoon and you’ve already finished your work for the day, so you start looking at the labels on the bags. There are blankets, shirts, sweatshirts, hats, scarves, stuffed animals. Anything you could want to make a perfect nest.

Suddenly you’re hit with an overwhelming desire to build a nest, something you’ve never felt before. There’s a section of your room between the bed and the wall that will be the perfect spot. It’s cozy, tucked away from the rest of the apartment, and the large windows let it sunlight for most of the day.

The first thing you do is vacuum the carpet, needing it to be perfectly clean in order to begin the project. Next, you grab the old twin mattress out of your basement storage space, grateful that you hadn’t thrown it away when upgrading to a queen-sized bed. It fits perfectly in the spot you’ve chosen, and you take out your own spare comforters and blankets for the base. Since they’ll be covered in scented objects you figure you’ll save the scented blankets for another time.

After the base is made you get stuck. You’ve never successfully nested before, and you’re unsure where to begin.

It’s a frustrating feeling. You’re an omega, nesting should be second nature to you.

Before you can spiral too deep, you call Harry who immediately answers with a “Hi there, love. How are you?”

Just hearing his voice is enough to calm you and stop the spiral.

“Hi,” you reply. “I’m good. I got the package you sent. Thank you for everything.”

“Of course. I hope it helps.”

“I uhm, I’m trying to build a nest.”

“That’s wonderful!” He sincerely replies.

“Emphasis on trying,” you say. He’s quiet for a moment, giving you time to explain further. “I’ve got the base, but I’m stuck now. I have no clue where to put everything else. And I feel like a lousy omega because I should just know how to do it, right?”

“Not at all, sweetheart. First of all, you could never be a lousy omega. But there might be a bit of a disconnect between you and your inner omega. You’ve been on suppressants for years, basically since you presented. Your instincts will come. You just need to be patient with yourself.”

You take in every word he says and a weight lifts off your shoulders.

“How do you always know what you say?” You ask with a laugh.

He laughs with you for a moment before his chuckles turn into coughs.

“You alright?” You ask.

“Yea, I’m good, just a little tickle or something,” he answers, voice slightly raspier than usual. “Listen, I have to go get ready for the show soon. I ordered you some food, it should get to your apartment in a little while. Take a break, relax, eat some dinner, and try again. Don’t overthink it, just start and see where it takes you, alright?”

“Okay. Break a leg tonight,” you reply.

“Thank you darling. Talk to you soon,” he says as he ends the call.

You take a quick shower while waiting for the food to arrive. This isn't the first time Harry’s sent you a meal. It’s his way of taking care of you even from across the country. The doorbell rings and you’re not surprised to see that he ordered your favorite Italian dish, reminding you how much he truly listens, and somehow seems to know what you’re craving before you do.

You do as he says and relax during dinner, watching an episode of your favorite comfort show. After you’re finished you decide to try again. You put on Harry's first album and grab one of the bags from the box. The note says it has two shirts, a sweater, and a scarf, all with Harry scent. You open it and his scent surrounds you. The task at hand no longer seems daunting, but rather exciting.

Over the next hour you construct a perfect nest, at least in your opinion. You’ve used materials from two bags of Harry’s and one of Sarah’s, as well as scenting a few materials of your own. The combination of smells is wonderful, absolutely soothing to your omega.

Possibly your favorite thing Harry sent is a new stuffed bunny, referencing the fact that you’ve compared him to a bunny rabbit on multiple occasions.

You’re cuddled in the best, new bunny in your arms, and you pull up your phone. It’s later than you thought, and Harry’s show will be starting soon. Lately you haven’t been able to watch many of his concerts due to the time change. But you decide to stay up late tonight and start a little bit later than usual tomorrow, fully taking advantage of the freedom you have for your job.

Everything starts normally but you notice a change in Harry’s demeanor about halfway through. His voice starts getting raspier, he’s turning his head to cough and clear his throat more often than usual, and he generally just seems a bit off.

That coughing earlier was definitely not just a simple little tickle.

You give him thirty minutes after the show ends to get home and shower before you FaceTime him. He answers immediately and says, “What are you still doing awake?” His voice sounds even worse than before.

“I was watching your show,” you answer.

“So you saw how shit I was?”

This is what you were afraid of. This is why you stayed up even later to talk to him. Because you knew he’d be beating himself up even though he’d obviously pushed through pain to give the very best concert he could.

“Harry, no, you absolutely were not shit. I won’t lie, you sounded a little croaky when you spoke, but the songs sounded perfect. You still put on an excellent show. How are you feeling?”

“Well, I’m upset for starters. But physically I kind of feel like garbage. My throat burns, my body’s aching, and I’m exhausted.”

“You need to rest, Harry. Give yourself time to get better.”

“I know that you’re right, but it’s hard. There’s always something that needs to be done,” he says with a sad, small voice that nearly breaks your heart.

“It’s not healthy to push yourself too hard. You need a break or it’s only going to get worse.” Your voice is laced with concern, as you practically plead with him to take care of himself. You’ve gotten to know him well over the past few weeks and you’re fully aware of his tendency to overwork himself, and his habit of putting everything before himself and his health. He’s explained that it’s a holdover from his early experience in the music industry and how hard management pushed him and the other boys when they first started. Since then, it’s been hard to change his mentality on the issue.

He nods without saying anything, and you take it as a win; albeit a small one. At least he’s willing to agree that he needs to take it easy. You can only hope that he actually will.

“Where are you?” he suddenly asks. “I don’t recognize your background.”

You smile and blush before replying, “I’m in my nest.”

“You are? It worked? How to do feel?” There’s a definite change in his attitude now, excitement rather than despair.

“It worked. Thank you again for the materials and the help earlier. I feel,” you pause for a moment to think before saying, “content. And safe.”

“I’m so happy to hear that. Truly just made me feel better knowing I could help you in some way.”

“I wish I could do the same for you.”

“You do. You help me. By calling, and talking me down from a spiral. And looking so cozy in your lovely nest.” Your cheeks warm again at the alpha complimenting the nest you worked so hard on. You feel proud to have made something that he approves of, especially with no prior experience. Suddenly thoughts of nests you can make for the two of you, maybe one day pups as well, force their way into your mind.

“I’m glad I could make you feel better,” is all you say in reply.

Your eyes meet for a moment, just simply taking each other in, before Harry finally says, “It’s pretty late here, and I know it is way past your bedtime. Get some sleep darling.”

“I will. Please, take it easy tomorrow, okay?”

“Okay, love,” he replies with a soft smile.

“Good night Harry.”

“Goodnight Y/N.”

You roll over, nose facing the wall of the nest, where Harry’s scent is strongest and you’re able to pick up on a hint of Sarah’s as well. Even though you’re worried about Harry, your surroundings have you calm enough to quickly fall asleep.

The next few days are difficult. Harry gets diagnosed with the flu and seems to just be getting sicker. He does everything he can to get better, but unfortunately ends up needing to postpone three shows while he continues to rest and get back to performance shape.

He’s upset and frustrated about the situation, and you spend much of those days texting and talking on Facetime to reassure him that no one is mad at him. While you agree that they might be a bit disappointed, you remind him that his true fans care about him and wouldn’t want him to push himself too far.

One week of rest does him a world of good. It’s obvious at his next show, exactly seven days later, that he has made a full recovery. You stay up again to watch the very beginning of the concert and fall into a peaceful sleep knowing that Harry is back in full health and back to doing what he loves.

Another week after that Harry’s finished his US residencies and it’s finally time for your doctor’s appointment.

As much as you’ve been looking forward to being seen and having your problem fixed, you’re incredibly nervous going in. You hadn’t been able to speak to Harry that morning as he was traveling and you’re more anxious than you expected to be.

Your doctor is a lovely beta woman who doesn’t bat an eye when you lay your sweatshirt next to you on the bed during the exam. You’d pulled it out of one of the bags that morning specifically to have Harry’s scent with you, and since you had to change into a patient gown this is the next best option. It works in keeping you calm as she goes through the rather invasive checkup.

After the physical exam is over she leaves so you can change before discussing what she found. Once you’re dressed the nurse leads you to her office and you sit across from her at the desk.

“First of all,” she begins. “I want to assure you that you’re perfectly healthy.” You breathe a sigh of relief at that, not even realizing that you’d been at least a little concerned that something was wrong.

“It seems we were right in assuming that you’ve developed a tolerance to your medication regimen. You were on a fairly high dosage so unfortunately it won’t be as simple as switching to different meds. You’d likely start having these same problems within just a year or possibly a couple of months.”

You listen closely, hanging on to every word even though you’re worried about where this is headed.

“What I would like to have you do,” she continues, “Is go completely off the medications for six months. This will allow your body to basically reset. I won’t lie, it will be tough for a while, especially if you don’t have an alpha, but it will ensure that the meds will be completely effective for years to come once you start back up.”

“I’ve never been unmedicated before,” you quickly say, trying to communicate how unsure you feel about what she is saying.

“Why don’t I tell you what you can expect during this time?” She asks and you nod, wanting as much information as possible.

“If you don’t have an alpha, then you’ll likely experience touch deprivation. It may be a little worse than what you’ve reported feeling recently, but I promise it will not be debilitating. It takes over a year for those symptoms to become severe. Nesting with objects that have been scented by an alpha will help with that. There are a couple of programs that can provide you with those materials if needed. I can give you the contact information.”

“No, thank you. I have a couple of alphas who have given me things. I’m sure they’ll be able to re-scent them for me if I ask,” you reply.

“Okay, wonderful. I’m glad you have some trusted alphas to help you. I urge you to accept help from them during this. It will make everything much easier for you and your inner omega. Now I know you like to hide your scent in public, which I completely understand given the way people tend to treat omegas. While you can’t take the oral scent blockers, the spray on kind is fine in moderation. I don’t recommend constant use though. And of course, being scented by an alpha is not only approved, but recommended.”

You smile slightly at this, thinking Harry would probably be happy with an excuse to scent you whenever possible.

“The last thing we need to discuss is heats. I have here that you’ve only experience two partial heats, correct?”

“Yes. My presentation heat, which lasted about a day, and then a two day heat a few months later before we landed on the right suppressant dosage.”

“Okay, you should experience two heats while off the medications. The first will be in about three months and will be similar to that last one you had. Shouldn’t last more than forty-eight hours and won’t be too intense. The second one should occur three months after that. This will be your first true heat and will last anywhere from four to seven days. It will also be more intense. I’ll give you some literature to read up on and some good sources to do research so that you can be prepared. After that second heat we’ll begin working out your new medicine regimen. Do you have any questions?”

Yea, you think to yourself, I have about a million questions. But no complete thoughts actually form in your brain, so you just reply, “No, I think I got everything.”

“Well, if anything does come up please reach out. I recommend email unless it’s something urgent since I have some time each day to sit and give a detailed reply, okay?”

“Got it.”

“Since you’ve already taken your meds today I’ll list tomorrow as the first day without them. You may start to feel a bit different within the next week.”

“Okay. Thank you so much,” you say as you both stand. She walks you out of the office and you part ways as she says, “Take care.”

You sit in your car for a moment as your mind spins with all the information you just received. When you finally feel focused enough to drive you wonder where to go next. You’d blocked the day off for this, knowing you probably would be too distracted to work at all after the appointment.

For a minute you debate stopping for a coffee on the way home. Getting a little treat after something unpleasant is like, a core part of girlhood.

But when you pull out of the parking lot you immediately start driving home. Because you know what you need right now, and it’s not a mocha latte.

Walking through your front door you quickly change into comfy clothes and curl up in your nest. This is exactly what your omega needs after the stressful morning. Nothing can beat being surrounded by the alpha’s wonderful scent.

Well, nothing except actually being with the alpha.

But that’s currently impossible. He’s traveling, probably almost in Mexico by now.

Right?

He’s going to Mexico. That’s what you keep telling yourself. It’s what you say when there’s a surprise knock on the door. It’s what you repeat when you open the door and see none other than Harry Styles standing in your apartment hallway.

He’s going to Mexico. Except he’s very much standing in front of you, flowers in one hand, a tray of drinks in the other, and a small suitcase next to him.

“Hi,” he says sweetly, dimples making an appearance as he smiles at you.

“Hi,” you answer just as quietly, still in disbelief of what you’re seeing.

You step back, silently inviting him in. He places the drinks and flowers on the table in your entryway so he can roll his suitcase in, shutting the door behind him.

The two of you stand there for a moment just taking each other in. Slowly, Harry leans down and presses a gentle kiss to your lips. He pulls back just an inch and there’s a moment of tension between you.

The moment doesn’t last long. You don’t know who moves first, but your lips quickly crash together in a kiss more heated than any you’ve shared before. His hands grip your waist, and you bite back a whine at the feeling of how big they are on your body. Your arms wrap around his shoulders, one resting on the back of his neck while the other slides through his hair.

You begin to walk backwards into the living room, never breaking contact. Harry sits on your couch, and you follow to straddle him, kneeling over him so your legs bracket either side of his. The kiss gets more intense, and this time you can’t hide the noise of pleasure when his tongue just barely passes between your lips.

After a few minutes of what is by far the best make out of your life, his hands move to your thighs. They slide up further and you become overwhelmed, pulling back from the kiss in response.

He doesn’t ask what’s wrong, doesn’t question what happened or if you’re okay. He knows why you stopped. He can read that you’ve gone as far as you’re comfortable with at this point. He smiles, presses one more chaste kiss to your lips, and then readjusts you so you’re sitting next to him, legs resting over his lap. He pulls you in, so you’re tucked against his side, and you stay like that for a few minutes, just enjoying being close together.

“So, how did the appointment go today?” he finally asks.

Before you can answer your stomach starts to growl loudly, causing you both to laugh.

“Hold that thought,” he says, “let’s get some lunch first huh?”

“Sounds like a good plan. I can make some for us,” you say, and immediately head to the kitchen.

Harry uses the restroom while you prepare some sandwiches and fruit salad. It gives you a moment to process everything that happened that morning. You also think about how you’ll answer Harry’s last question. You decide to tell him the truth, tell him everything. He’s proved how deeply he cares about you, and honestly at this point you can’t imagine keeping anything from him.

So over lunch, you explain everything your doctor said. You tell him about the touch deprivation, and he reassures you that he’ll make sure you always have freshly scented materials to wear and put in your nest. You even tell him about the upcoming heats, though not without blushing the whole time.

“Is there anything I can do to help with that? Would you want me to be with you through it?” You’re endeared by the fact that his blush matches yours now.

You think about his offer for a moment and reply, “I don’t think so. At least not the first one. I don’t think I’m ready for that yet. And, uhm,” you pause for a moment before admitting something. You’re scared to tell him, but you’ve already talked about enough embarrassing things today with him and your doctor, so one more can’t hurt. “I’ve never been knotted before. And though I want to someday, I want it to be right. And I want it to be when I’ll remember it, not while I’m under the haze of a heat. When we’ll both remember it.” You’re nervous at the end, including him the way you did, like you’re assuming he wants that too.

“I completely understand. There will be a time when we’re ready. And it will be perfect,” you share another shy smile, reassured that he included himself without any hesitation. He wants this, and he wants this with you. He sees a future to your relationship, just like you do.

“Now,” he continues, “when it comes to helping with the touch deprivation and you requiring scenting, I think we should choose some dates when we can be together. It’s not healthy for you if we’re apart for long periods of time. And honestly, I don’t want to go months without seeing you.”

“Me neither,” you reply.

“Do you want to pull out our calendars now, or forget about all this for the afternoon and just spend the day together and make some plans over the phone after I leave tomorrow?”

“Make plans later. Definitely. I want to enjoy the day with you.”

And so, the two of you have a lazy afternoon in. It had started to rain while you ate lunch, which gives you the perfect excuse to turn on the fireplace and lounge in the living room. You watch movies, play some games, and get lost listening to each other tell stories. Harry orders in dinner, Thai this time, and you each take your own showers before getting ready for bed.

Harry hasn’t been in your room yet, and you hesitate before opening the door to let you both in. He’s seen your nest over Facetime, but this is different, and suddenly you’re hit with the overwhelming need for him to approve of it. You don’t know what you’ll do if the alpha doesn’t like it.

Of course, your fear is for nothing. Because the second you bring Harry to the side of your bed and show him what you made, he immediately showers you in compliments. He tells you how perfect it is, how cozy it looks.

“Would you like to lay in it with me? I know it’s kind of small, so I understand if-” he cuts you off before you can complete your sentence and says, “I would be honored to be in your nest with you.”

He looks to you for guidance, needing to know exactly where you want him. He knows how important nests are to omegas, and the last thing he wants is to mess it up in any way. You instruct him where to lay down and he does so without pause. He holds his arms out and you quickly go to him.

It’s no surprise when you begin to purr. Wrapped in his arms, in your nest, surrounded by his scent, you think you may have entered heaven.

No one speaks for a while, and you start to think maybe Harry’s fallen asleep. That is until you hear him clear his throat. You look to him, knowing he wants to say something, and he takes a deep breath.

“I have a question for you. And I know it may be too soon, but it seems silly to delay when we obviously have a connection. We’re old enough now to know what we want. And what I want is you. I understand if you don’t feel the same way, or at least not yet, but I couldn’t leave without asking. Y/N, would you be my girlfriend?”

“Harry, I would absolutely love to.”

He holds you closer in response pressing a kiss to your lips before pulling back and seeing the huge smile on your face.

“There’s just one more question,” he says. He seems even more nervous about this one, but you remain calm, even releasing some calming pheromones of your own.

You can tell he senses them as he relaxes and says, “Would you also do me the honor of being my omega?”

This question is even more unexpected than the last. He’s right in saying that it’s very early to ask, but at the same time, it’s not too early at all. Because there’s an undeniable connection between the two of you, not just as people, but as alpha and omega. It would be silly not to make it official.

Happy tears fill your eyes, and you nod yes in answer to his question. His eyes are similarly watery, and he leans down to press a kiss over your mating spot, a promise of what’s to come in the future, and you snuggle impossibly closer to him. To Harry. Your boyfriend. And your alpha.

You sleep soundly through the night, waking only when you realize Harry isn’t beside you. The spot is still warm, so he hasn’t been gone long. It’s early, a little before 7 a.m., and you hear Harry getting ready in the bathroom. He’ll be leaving soon. He mentioned a car would be picking him up to take him to the airport first thing in the morning.

Before you can get up he crouches down, running a hand over your hair. He’s ready to go, but he lays down next to you, soaking up every last second before he absolutely needs to leave. He scents you, does it so strongly that he’s practically scent marked the room, and you’re grateful for that. Since you’ll be stopping your medications today, having a space filled with his smell will help ease you through the transition.

Too quickly, his phone rings with a message that his ride is waiting outside.

He leans down to kiss you and say, “Everything is going to be alright. We’ll work it out, and I’m with you the whole way. Goodbye, my omega.”

You preen at the title and press another kiss to his lips before replying, “Thank you, alpha. Be safe.”

“I will, I promise,” he says. With one final press of his lips on your forehead, he drags himself out of the comfort of your nest and then out of your apartment.

It’s quiet without him, but you reflect on his parting words. You believe them wholeheartedly. It’s going to be difficult, but he’ll be there to help.

With the reassurance that you’re not alone, and Harry’s delicious scent filling the room, you slip back to sleep, feeling nervous but hopeful about what’s to come.  

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

AN: Thank you so much for reading! I really enjoyed writing this chapter so I hope you all liked it as well!

Taglist: @akkatz @pandeebearstyles @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite@theekyliepage@numafarawayglxy @booberry019-blog @hillzrry@ssareidbby @gem1712 @acesofspadess@houseofdilfs@shaquille-0atmeal-1@kissitnhekitchen @amateurduck @poguestyleskye@n0vaj3an@snwells@drunk-teens-doing-drugs ; @fdl305@creativelyeva@daphnesutton@selluequestrian@lovingfurypanda @stardream14 @tbsloneely@eversincehs1@boomitsallie1@rose-garden-dreamz @fictionalmensblog @buckybarnessimpp @ottawaoutlander @storyschanging @jerseygirlinca

#harry styles x reader #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x you

[daichiduskdrop]

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚⋆·˚ ༘ *𝙎𝙣𝙤𝙬 𝙖𝙣𝙜𝙚𝙡 ⋆·˚ ༘ *ੈ✩‧₊˚

Chapter 08

Pairing: BTS Ot7 X fem! reader

Genre: A/B/O AU, Fluff, Angst, Strangers to lovers,

Warnings: slight implications of verbal abuse

Words: 3381

Taglist: @thelilbutifulthings @ilovemoneymorethenmen @singukieee @cherrysainttt @felicityroth @mageprincess7 @lucis-noctiana @danielle143 @osakis-gf @girl-nahh @vintageoldfashion @neverthefirstchoice @juju-227592 @silentreadersthings @i-have-no-life-charlie @everyonehatesshani

A/N: Hi everyone! I just wanted to thank you all for the continuous support this story is receiving once again. This is a more serious chapter so i hope it won't be boring for any of you!

If you have anything you would like me to include in this story, ideas, prompts.. just DM or comment under any of the posts, and I might include it in some of the upcoming chapters :) I have a few nice ideas in mind already, but I'm open for new suggestions

Thank you for everything. Take care of yourself please. ❤️❄️🪽

Previous:

⋆·˚ ༘ *ੈ✩‧₊˚˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚˚ ✩‧₊˚⋆·˚ ༘ *

Picking the cardboard box back up, the alpha took the few strides between him and the living room. It wasn't heavy by no means, but it still was quite full. 

He felt his heart break a bit once again because of you. He hoped that if you really would stay with them how they so wished for, considering how quickly you and they got attached, it would get easier somehow. But Taehyung also knew more than well, that it was not going to be today. 

The apartment you lived in was quite small, even if it was for you only. The small corridor that lead to the entrance had two doors on each side, one leading to a small tiled bathroom and the other to the living room.

Your small kitchen was also cramped in the space, even if you had only a few things filling the cupboards, it was just not enough space all together.

There was a small old looking brown couch, some of the fabric already tearing apart. There was a lot of your belongings just laying loosely around, many of your books and notebooks, different sketchbooks, paintings, clothes or blankets. 

Placing the box next to his oldest packmate, he opened the lid once again, the light puff of dust coming out. Jin passed him a glance, but soon turned his eyes back to you. 

Namjoon was crouched on the floor, looking at some of your work, a drawing you made a few months ago in his hands. When Tae called his name he turned to look at him though. 

„Come look hyung.” He murmured, already turned to the box once again. 

With a few of the other packmates littering towards him too, they all watched closely. The alpha pulled out a old blanket, that smelled lightly of different beta and alpha. 

Bringing it to his nose, he smelled it a bit before he nudged it towards the others. After taking only a small wift of the aroma, Namjoon knew that they weren't able to prolong the much needed discussion for any longer. 

„Okay, let's talk. Jin, wake her up.” The packalpha sighed, before he took a seat on the ground. The wood felt cold on his legs. Soon the others followed, Jungkook and Jimin also coming back, being lead by Hoseok from the bathroom they were looking at earlier.

Shaking you awake, after a few minutes you were finally looking at least a bit lucid, your eyes still bleary but present with the soft shine they always held.

With Jin placing you on the couch besides him, he went to get a glass of water for you. Handling the tall cup to you, he watched closely as you took a sip. 

„Drink some more sweetheart.” He said gently, his eyes warm and soft. Gulping down the cold liquid you gave him the cup back. The alpha also sat down on the ground before you, all the packmates gathered by now. 

Namjoon was the first to speak, not being able to hold on with how you were looking away constantly. You were obviously nervous and stressed, it was so easy to tell. 

„Okay pup. Let's talk about some stuff now, yea? If it gets too much you just have to say and we will stop right away. Do you understand?” His eyes never wavered, keeping the eye contact with no problem. 

Nodding a little, you squeezed at the hoodie sleeves you were wearing. Hearing the packalpha's teeth click, you looked back at him quickly.

„Use your words baby. This is important.” 

„..yea I understand alpha.” You mumbled, averting your eyes back to the floorings right after. 

„Okay. Good girl. Can you tell us about yourself some more? We can ask about stuff easier after.” You could feel all their eyes on you. It didn't feel too uncomfortable because of that, the gazes soft and caring. 

„..yea. My name is L/N Y/N, and I'm a student here in Korean national University of Arts. I just started my Junior year this September. My major is fine arts. I don't actually come from Seoul; my family is half Japanese, so I grew up for most of my life there. I moved to Seoul about three years ago. I was raised speaking both languages.”

It was quiet for a second, with all the alphas watching you closely. You were nervous, sure, but they were just watching closely for any sort of breaking point that they might stumble upon accidentally. You seem okay so far, though.

„You said you didn't have a pack earlier in the mall to me and Jimin. Did you mean your family pack?” The question stung a little; you felt sad that you had to talk about this once again. It was a sensitive topic for you.

„Yes, my pack disowned me about two years ago. We got into a bad argument and it just ended not too well.” You could sense that they wanted to know much more, questions they felt like they couldn't ask: „My family pack is very traditionally thinking; I have a beta mother and an alpha father. My grandfather was also an alpha; he was a pack alpha until he passed away a few years ago.”

Your voice was soft, but even when it shook a little bit, they could see that whatever wounds you had taken earlier were well in the healing process.

„My grandfather was raised in Seoul, and he also met my grandmother here. When she left, in her last will, she wished to be buried here since her happiest memories were kept in the city when she was still younger. She would tell me about Seoul sometimes.”

You could feel heaviness in your chest. It was complicated to remind yourself of people that were no longer around, but your memories were fond and sweet, so the small tear that escaped your eye was just for the good memories you wouldn't be able to continue for now.

Jungkook was quick to lean in, his thumb brushing over your cheek comfortingly, before he pulled away soon. He didn't want you to dwell on any upset feelings at the moment; they knew that this talk was more than important.

„So when my grandfather also passed away, he wanted to stay with his mate even after death. His body was buried with her, so we came here three years ago to attend the funeral. With the pack alpha passing, the right to become the pack alpha was automatically given to my father, so he started to lead the pack.

Me and my parents never got along too well in general. It was just always really complicated; we would argue a lot over stupid things.

I wanted to pursue the arts; it was the time when I had to decide if I would drop the chance of my next education or go for it, and I just really wanted to at least try. Because, I dunno.." You mumbled, sniffling a little. Watching your lap, you played with your fingers.

„Time doesn't hear if you ask it to wait. I just have this feeling in me; I know what my purpose is, and even if my subgender makes it complicated for me, I can feel it. My parents didn't truly understand this, and they never will, I think.

It's normal for omegas to not really work in general, and if so, it's easy jobs that don't require much stress. They supported me in getting at least some sort of job, but my father never thought of art being one.” Taking a deep breath, you continued on.

„We used to argue about this a lot—too much, in fact. So after the funeral, we were staying in Seoul in memory of my Grandfather. We stayed for about four months, and we visited a lot of places in Korea that he and grandmother loved the most. It might sound sad or something, but it was really just nice.

We didn't travel basically anywhere before that, and so this was a really welcomed change for once, even if it was because of a sad reason. My grandfather was always really sweet and nice to me and I have a lot of good memories with my grandparents.

But as the visit started to come to an end, we had to go back home to Japan. My older brother and sister both worked there, and my father and mother ran errands there too, so it was only natural for us to come back eventually.

Me and my father got into a terrible argument one of the last nights in the hotel room; it was j-just bad. I don't remember everything exactly, but trust me, it wasn't anything new or ni-nice." With your soft voice growing smaller and smaller with every word passing through your lips, you took a look at the pack before you.

They all seemed collected and calm, but the strong scent in the entire room told a completely different story. There was a strong aroma of anger, sadness, and guilt. Deciding to just rip off the bandage you continued.

„I was banished after that. My whole family left with the first flight in the morning, and I was left on the streets for a few days.

Eventually some people noticed, and it was brought to the attention of the international management of pack affairs, and since I didn't have any associations with anyone here at that time, my father was required by law to get me safe housing and send me monthly payments to assure my wellbeing.

It took a long time for me to settle down here, but eventually, with the help of a few people, I got to this apartment and started my studies. I live off the month-to-month payments I receive, and my family also pays for the schooling. They wouldn't if they didn't have to, though; you can trust me on that.”

Sitting up, you rested your back on the back of the couch, pulling your knees to your chin. The packmates didn't speak for a few seconds, and you allowed all the information to just sink in for now.

„That's terrible little cub. I'm so sorry.” You looked at Hobi; since he sat right at the foot of the couch, he took hold of your palms quickly, rubbing his thumbs over your knuckles. There wasn't much for them to say; the damage was already done.

Sighing, Namjoon realised that this was worse than what he expected. He wasn't so sure what he expected, but when you were led to his packhouse doorway, your body small and fragile, shaking with sobs and whimpers, he grew attached so fast.

Now that he knew what caused it, he felt anger pulsing through his veins, his teeth clenching harshly. A pack banishing an omega? In a foreign country? This was just unbelievable.

„Pup, my sweetie. That's a terrible thing they did; you understand that well, right? That it's not your fault.”

„I mean, it is my fault. I should have just gone along with their suggestions and stopped being so difficult. It must have gotten just too stressful for my family.” You answered, looking into the pack alpha's eyes. He only furrowed his brows. He was about to speak, before he was interrupted.

„Bullshit kitten. None of that is true; a good pack will always support what you want to do, whether it is risky or not. It doesn't matter; a good pack will protect you no matter what; that's what's important.” He looked over your form closely. You could smell the anger coming off Yoongi in waves, so you just didn't argue.

„Tell Alpha now, what happened at the mall when me and Jimin met you? What happened at the pharmacy with the prescription?” He never got an answer, and so with all of them being there to talk everything out now, he wanted to know.

They didn't have much time to talk about anything so far, and since you weren't able to speak well back then either, on their way to the packhouse, the two alphas decided that it would be for the best to just wait for you to tell the others too.

Just because you talked about something during Omega drop, it didn't mean that you wanted them to actually know.

Your fingers shook a little as you gripped Hobi's warm palms tighter.

„I went to the doctor earlier this week; I needed to get on different h-heat suppressants; the other ones just weren't go-good. I got a presc-ription for the pharmacy, and so I w-ent, but I couldn't get the medicine because I do-don't have a packalpha.” Your lips shook, stammering over a few words as you were reminded of the overwhelming memory.

„Wait, wait, wait, babycheeks. Heat suppressants? Why are you taking those? Can't you just take a break from school for a week?”

Turning to look at Taehyung, you couldn't help the dry chuckle that left your throat. It felt a little humorous with how his thinking went.

„No, I can't. I go to a school for all second genders, and there are no compensations for ruts or heats. It's normal for everyone to take strong suppressants. Plus, the time I would miss is just way too much. It adds up quickly.”

„Okay.. that's still absolutely unacceptable. And that you need a packalpha for the medication too? Since when are they doing that? That's so stupid.” Throwing his head back, Jimin loudly exhaled. What's been going on with the government lately?

If a pack's omega would start taking heat suppressants, it would be most definitely discussed before hand. Plus, it was really unusual for a mated omega to even take those; why would they need them?

„It's just to keep them safe. Calm down, Chim.” The pack alpha said He didn't really understand the new rule either, but he never really had to worry about stuff like this.

„Do you still have the note? Can I take a look, little pup?” Continuing on, Namjoon talked again. Nodding lightly, you mumbled about it being in your jacket pocket still.

With Taehyung carrying it back almost immediately, he handed the now pretty crumbled piece of paper to his packalpha. Reading over it, his frown only deepened.

„Little one, who's your doctor?” With Jin and Taehyung staring over his shoulder, their expressions too darkened up.

„His name is Seung Kyu; I think his number should be written somewhere on the paper. Why?” You could feel yourself getting nervous; was something wrong?

„Don't worry your tiny head about it for now, okay? Alpha will deal with it; I'll just go make a call. I'll be back soon, baby. Stay with alphas for now.”

Standing up tall, he walked over to you, the prescription still in hand. Fishing his folded phone from his pocket with his other hand, he softly caressed your temple, scenting you just the slightest.

Only able to nod, you watched him walk towards the entrance, listening to the door shut behind him. Your attention was quickly pulled back to the other alphas.

„Kitten. Tell us, what would you like to do now? You have school tomorrow, right? We have to go to the studios in the morning.”

For a second, you weren't sure what you really wanted to do. You knew that the process would start with courting, but even then you were still a little confused about the whole thing.

„I'm not too sure, I--.. I have school on Monday, yeah, and I'm not so sure how the whole courting process goes by. I'm sorry.” You mumbled, looking down once again.

„Don't apologise for this princess. Don't be ashamed of this.”

„Yea, it's all okay, sunshine. The whole process of welcoming you into the pack starts with courting. You know what that is, right? When we show you how good of a pack we are, how well we can provide," Nodding along, you listened to the alpha before you.

„After that, if you are still interested, we will take you in as a part of our pack, so you would move to our packhouse. Then we can move on further with things, but you don't have to worry about that at all for now.”

Understanding things better, you agreed. „I wouldn't mind with the courting process. I'm not sure what I have to do for it, but I'll try my best.” You answered, your voice barely above a whisper.

The bright, large smile Hoseok gave you warmed up your heart quickly, making it beat just a little quicker. The previous sadness and frustration that smelled foul and filled the room earlier was quickly changed for a much better scent, bright and sweet, happy and healthy.

„You don't have to do anything, cub. It's all on alphas now. You just have to rest a lot, and we will take care of everything, sweetheart.” Jin said while watching you fondly.

A knock sounded from the doors, and Taehyung stood up quickly, opening the entrance for the packalpha.

Stepping in, the agitation that had been so suddenly switched came back in full force.

„..Absolutely not; I'm not allowing that, Taehyung-ah, and you know it. Let's just talk later.” His voice was louder than usual, but when he saw you sitting with both of your palms cradled in his older packmates hands, Namjoon calmed down.

Sitting back down on the floor, he turned to his packmates. „What did I miss?” Acting as if he hadn't almost stormed the apartment, the packalpha tried to calm down as quickly as possible.

„Y/N agreed on us starting the courting officially.” The youngest beamed, his smile wide and bright. He seemed particularly excited about this. Jungkook, too, grew fond of you very quickly and already had many plans on how to impress you in the few upcoming days.

With deep dimples showing, Namjoon also smiled softly at you. His eyes closed up a little, and he felt very happy with that information. Even if he discussed it with you earlier, he still couldn't help but be happy you didn't change your mind, even with the other drop you had that his pack partly caused.

„So nice of you, pup, to give us a chance like that. I'm very proud. Well then, would you like to spend the night at the packhouse again?” A little stunned at the sudden invitation, you felt shy but happy.

„We will take you tomorrow in the morning with the car kitty; when do your lessons start and end?” The gummy smile was something that would take too long to get used to.

„At 8. Tomorrow I end at 16, but I can take the bus home, so it's alright.”

„No babycheeks, that just won't do. One of us will take you, or we will send someone for you. Come on, pack up now, sweet baby.” Pulling you up, Hobi hugged you close to his body for a minute or two.

Being followed by a few of the alphas, you pulled out your backpack and started to put a few of your things in it. You found the phone between your bedsheets and took the charger for it and a few essentials.

Changing in the bathroom before leaving, you also took your clothes for tomorrow's lessons. Helping you fold them, Jin placed them in a plastic bag so they wouldn't get tossed up too badly.

„Pup, how about some stuff for nesting? We can start getting your room situated if you want. Would you like to take some things, little one?” Looking over to Namjoon, he held up one blanket you had lying around.

„I don't nest that often, but... I can try again, I guess."

„Hm? What do you mean you don't nest often?” All the men were listening in by now as you took a seat on your bed.

„I don't know, I just never really have much time to do it, I guess."

Approaching you, Yoongi stood before you. „That's not healthy, kitty. How about we get you some new blankets and pillows? I saw a new bedding store open up close to our house. You'll definitely love to nest kitten; it's exactly what a small kitty like you is bound to want. Alpha is very sure; you trust me, right?”

Not mustering up the courage to do much else but nod, you shyly smiled to yourself. Tucking your chin downward, you felt Yoongi's fingers caress the top of your head softly.

„Good girl.” 

⋆·˚ ༘ *ੈ✩‧₊˚˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚˚ ✩‧₊˚⋆·˚ ༘ *

Next:

#bts fanfic #bts x reader #bts a/b/o #bts imagine #bts jimin #bts omegaverse #hybrid bts #bts namjoon #bts ot7 #bts taehyung #bts jin #bts yoongi #bts jungkook #bts hobi #bts hoseok #bts rm #bts v #bts suga #kim Namjoon #kim seokjin #min yoongi #jung hoseok #jeon jungkook #park jimin #kim taehyung #v #suga #rm #jhope #bts

[jockbroski34]

New Blood (Chapter 2)

This is the second half of New Blood. If you haven't already, please read the first part here:

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

--Braden POV--

It’s been two weeks since Jacob changed into a jock.  I almost didn’t recognize him at first.  He seemed pretty chill when I saw him first, but now he acted like a spitting image of Zach and even started to look the part too.  I even heard rumors that they started dating, which was a surprise to me because Zach always came off as straight to me.

It was just like what happened with Bradley.  They would start hanging out more and more with Zach, and then the next time you see them, they become freakishly huge and start playing football.  I’ve seen it happen twice, but I am certain it has happened before.  It wasn’t the first time I saw someone in my class walk in looking like they took steroids overnight, but it was uncommon enough for it to not be a noticeable problem.

Even worse, I know he’s still at it.  I’ve seen Zach and “Jake” talking to a guy I know in my class, Charlie.  If I had to guess, he’s their next victim, but knowing him, I’m sure he’d be begging to join them.  He’s openly gay and he’s always thirsted over the guys on the football team, even preferring my brother “Brad” over me.  Zach probably has him wrapped around his finger at this point.  Honestly, I felt bad for him for being that desperate.  I knew it would be impossible to convince someone that down bad.

One thing became clear to me after the past several months.  Zach was obviously getting closer to people in order to convince them to join the football team and become jocks like him.  I’ve seen it happen multiple times, and at this point, he’s gone too far.  I could try to tell the school about what he has been doing, but without definitive proof, I would just look crazy.  The school obviously wouldn’t care anyways because they would benefit from a better football team to put their school’s name on the board.

As far as I know, no one in the school really seems to notice or care about people changing before their very eyes.  They are completely oblivious.  They don’t even care that they could be the one chosen to be targeted next.  I’m basically all on my own here.  This has to have been happening for almost a year at this point and I have to do something.  I have to stop Zach and the rest of the team from turning these students into meathead jocks.

I began to investigate Zach and the rest of the football team.  I went down the roster and made a list of every person who I definitely knew had been turned into a jock.  There were a few more than I had expected to be honest.  About thirty percent, I believe.  These people had all gone through the drastic changes involved with joining the team, including the increased body growth.

There was one person who I specifically wanted to find information on, Zach.  I decided to browse his Instagram to find even a hint of any tangible evidence that I could use against him.  He had a lot of photos, with most of the recent ones being him showing off his body or partying.  I wouldn’t expect much else from a douchebag like him.  Although my investigation did not bear much fruit, I did find something interesting.  As I scrolled through his old photos, I saw a boy both similar, yet entirely different to the cocky, muscular quarterback I knew.  Was he one of the ones that was changed too?

The photo, about two years ago, showed an entirely different Zach.  He was certainly still tall for his age, and definitely still taller than I am now.  He was more on the skinnier side, however, and his face had softer, more boyish features compared to his more chiseled self.  He had a longer hairstyle which contrasted with the short style he was rocking now.  He still had the same verdant green eyes, although they had a more innocent look compared to the confidence his current self was full of.  If you had shown me this picture without any of the information I know, I would’ve thought this was his cute little brother.

The more I thought about it, the more I started to wonder.  How did he do it?  Him being one of the earlier guys to transform combined with him being the quarterback and the team captain led me to believe that he had to be one of the first, perhaps being the prototype.

I saw another photo of the old Zach from three years ago.  It was him with two older men at a football game, each one of them adorning a jersey to match with the others in the crowded stadium.  The man next to Zach bore enough similarities with him that I assumed that he was his father, but the other man’s identity was still a mystery.  The face looked familiar however, but I figured it was just a coincidence.  Maybe he was an uncle or an old family friend?  Either way, I came to the conclusion that Zach was likely always into football even at a young age.  I wouldn’t find it surprising that he would want to play football, but anyone with eyes could see that it would be impossible to achieve that kind of body in just two years even with nonstop training and a strict diet.  I considered the possibility that steroids could have been involved, but how would he be able to even get his hands on them, let alone supply them to that many people?

I then tried to broaden my perspective a bit, and an interesting theory entered my mind.  The football coach would obviously know of the changes, right?  He couldn’t just turn a blind eye after some guys just randomly became jocks and wanted to join the team, right?  In fact, he would have much to gain by turning his players into the ideal version of a high school football player.  Stronger players mean more wins.  More wins mean more success for the team and for the school.  No wonder why the school doesn’t care.  They are directly benefiting from this!

So I decided that I would dig deeper on the coach.  Unsurprisingly, he was a former football player and coach, but decided to move to this town about three to four years ago.  At the college he went to, he majored in psychology.  I found the pair between football and psychology to be a strange fit, with very little overlap.  But then I started to think.  He obviously knows a lot about the human mind.  Maybe that’s why the guys on the team like Bradley and Jacob came out acting like entirely different people.  He had to have done something to them subconsciously, perhaps some form of hypnosis or brainwashing.  Bradley would often mention things that obviously never happened, so I am sure his memories were tampered with.  I would know.  I’ve known him my entire life and he never cared about sports before now.  Just as I had figured out a hypothesis on how they might have changed mentally, I still didn’t know how their bodies might have changed.  I defaulted to my original idea, steroids, but I didn’t know how a high school coach would get steroids for his players.  Surely he’s smart enough to want to avoid that scandal.

I remembered the coach’s face.  I’ve definitely seen it before at least once at school, but it was also the other man in the photo with Zach!  So it seems that the coach knew Zach before he became a jock.  I’m guessing he and his father were close?  If I’m on the right track, Zach could have been his guinea pig for his experiments, since he would have to be one of the first guys to undergo the jock transformation.

I wrote all of the important evidence I had into a document, but then I heard the front door open.  Shit, Brad, no, Bradley came home early from football practice!  I quickly saved the document onto my flash drive, and hid it in my pocket.  We shared the same computer, so I couldn’t risk him finding it, even though he would probably just look up sports statistics or porn instead.  Bradley was seemingly unaware by the time he entered our shared room.

“Hey bro,” Bradley said.  “Doing homework already?  You’re a much harder worker than me, bro.”  The old Bradley would never say bro.  And he was arguably a better student than me.

“Yeah,” I responded, sarcastically.  I was honestly getting tired of him after all that has been going on.  “Not that you would know anything about studying, you dumb brute.”  I grabbed my things and left for the living room, not wanting to be anywhere near my changed brother, nor near his sweaty, unwashed clothes that he left on the floor.

“What’s wrong bro?” Bradley followed me, his large feet stomping on the floor with every step.  “You not feeling alright?  I’m going on a run in a little bit if you want to come with.  It’ll help clear your head.”  I was fuming at his ignorance.  It was at this moment that I burst.

“You are what’s wrong ‘bro’!  Ever since you started hanging out with Zach and joined the football team, you’ve been completely unrecognizable!  You’re just another jock now!”

“So what?  I like being on the team and I like hanging out with the guys.”

“Is that really you in there or is that Zach or Coach doing the talking for you?  You were never like this before you met them.  I know that they changed you!”  I realized I may have said too much.

“I guess they did rub off on me a little, but I did this for me, bro,”  I rolled my eyes at the idea that anyone would willingly agree to be transformed into a jock.  “I know you and I have grown apart these past couple months, but I just want us to get along again like we used to, bro.  No matter what.”  He reached out for a hug, but I pushed him away.  The man in front of me was not my brother.  Besides, he’d probably break a bone or two.

“You are not my ‘bro’!  If you want us to be brothers again, you can start by quitting the team.  You’re never gonna get anywhere in life by throwing footballs and getting concussions.”

“You’ll never understand, little bro.”  Bradley seemed disappointed, and left through the front door, likely going on another one of his runs.  I felt a wave of anger and shame rush over me, not just at my foolish brother, but at myself for being unable to connect with him.  The rest of the night went by as usual, only we were even more cold towards each other than we were earlier.  Dinner was incredibly awkward, with our tension hanging over the dinner table.  We avoided eye contact and didn’t even say a word to each other the whole night.  As I tried to fall asleep, I knew that we couldn’t keep living like this.  Something needed to change.

--Jake POV--

I woke up to the sound of an alarm in Zach’s warm embrace, his toned arms barely wrapped around my new, larger body.  His thick legs tangled in between mine like a knot and his 9-inch serpent in his jockstrap pressed against my back.  I had slept the night at his place again, but it was pretty common these days now that we were officially a couple.  We saw each other almost every day, whether it was at school, practice, the gym, or watching football together on Sunday.  The other bros grew a little jealous of us, but it’s a little hard not to be.

I thought about what happened the other day.  Memories of the lessons prior were drowned out by the practice, and by me and Zach recruiting the newbie to the team.  You see, Zach was not only the team captain and our star quarterback.  He was also responsible for recruiting new members to the team and getting people interested in football, and he asked me to help him out, which I obviously agreed to.

Obviously I now know how the recruitment process actually works, seeing as he had done it to me weeks ago, but it is different watching it compared to seeing it happen to yourself.  Unlike me, the new recruit took less time and was very eager to join the team.  Charlie was a nerdy kid, and gay too, but he had a slight interest in football, but mainly for the hot guys who played it.  I empathized with him, seeing as I was lusting over Zach just weeks ago.  Naturally, me and Zach helped him realize that he could be one of those hot football jocks who he jerked off to, while also allowing him to appreciate the art of the game on more than a surface level.  I watched Charlie transform and he was already in love with his new body and jock persona.  He’s now one of the guys he’s thirsted for, and maybe if he’s lucky, he can get to suck off one of the bros.  I don’t think any of them are gay, though, but if little bro tries to make a move on Zach though, I’ll beat the shit out of him.  Maybe I’ll try to hook him up with another new gay recruit.

I heard a buzzing sound from the nightstand in front of me.  I grabbed my phone, which lit up in the dark room.  My new lock screen was a picture of me and Zach, our arms over each other’s shoulders, in our football uniforms after a hard-fought victory.  Brad had messaged the group chat and it seemed like he had something important to share.

“hey bros my little bro braden is mad at me for joining the team and i think he knos about wat teh team is doin hes obv mizrabl and i want us to get along agan think zach and coach can turn him into a jock liek me?”

I remembered Braden and how antagonistic he acted towards me and the other members of the team.  I still haven’t forgiven him for being so judgmental towards us.  We just wanted to play football and be bros together.  What was wrong with that?  Judging from what Brad said, it is clear that he’s already gathering evidence on us just like he had said, as he knows about not just Zach, but Coach too.  If the secrets of our program leaks, it could be very bad news.  Because he was an enemy to the team, he was an enemy to me.  However, I felt like I could forgive him if he joined us.  Plus, I wanted him to see firsthand why we loved this lifestyle so much.  I responded in the group chat.

“yea we shud do it b4 he trys telling any1 he knows about zach alredy and he knows i changed and tryd to warn me lets talk after practice”

Zach started to rise from his slumber, realizing that he had slept past his alarm and he gave me a kiss on the lips.  I informed him of the situation with Braden and he agreed that this was probably the best option.  I didn’t care if he would try to resist us, but he needed to know that we were not to be fucked with.  Zach went downstairs to make breakfast for the two of us while I got ready for school.

I changed into one of Zach’s T-shirts that he let me wear and a pair of basketball shorts, and then I put on my hat, adorned with the team’s logo, and twisted the brim backward.  Damn, I looked good.  I got turned on by the man staring back at me in the mirror, with his toned body and cocky smirk that showed everyone that he was on top of the world.  I could tell that my transformation was corrupting me, but in the best way possible.  I loved it.  This was everything I ever wanted.

On my plate were eggs, bacon, and peanut butter toast.  Zach didn’t take his studies too seriously but at least he knew how to cook a good, protein-rich meal.  It was a feast fit for muscular kings like ourselves.  I chugged the protein shake that he made for me, rich with a chocolate flavor, before we got into my car and drove to school.

We arrived at school, sat through a bunch of boring lectures, and as soon as that was over, we went straight to practice.  Earlier in the day, I bumped into Braden to show him who he was up against.  He just glared back at me.  It was an odd feeling knowing the power I had over others, but the idea of being stronger and better than everyone made me hard.  While we waited for Coach to arrive, we discussed what to do about Braden.  Charlie said that he had final period with him and that he looked at him funny.  I found the coincidence that Charlie shared a class with him to be quite hilarious, and I imagined the irony of the situation to drive him insane.  Brad said that his mom was going out of town for the week to visit family and his dad worked late hours, so he would have no one to pick him up.

With that information, I devised a plan.  Since Brad would probably have to pick up Braden from school, we could use this opportunity in our favor and get him alone with us.  Since we have practice tomorrow, he will have to stay until after we are finished, so as long as we can keep track of him, we should be able to take him to the locker room in order to be transformed.  With the plan ready to go, we started practice.  After that, me and Zach went to the gym and my biceps were swollen after a hard workout.  I definitely reached a new high today, and I felt great.  Zach decided to spend the night at my place as we tried to iron out any potential flaws in our plan.  Zach seemed proud that I was taking an active role in the team.

“Hey bro, you’re doing a great job helping me to keep this team going.  Whether it’s winning games, or helping out during practice, or giving new recruits the sweet taste of what it’s like to be a jock, you’re really awesome.  When I first met you, I never imagined you would make this great of a jock.”

I blushed.  No one had ever praised me that much.  “What can I say bro?  I learned from the best,”  I responded as I kissed him.  He wrapped his arms and body around me and spooned me like the night before.  As I drifted to sleep, I reflected on Zach and the other guys on the team.  They brought out the best in me.  I fought for my life for them on the field just as they did for me.  Off the field, they were like the brothers I never had.  But Zach was the only person I felt truly understood me on a personal level.  He made me who I am and he showed me how to make other guys as great as we are.  And I eagerly awaited tomorrow when we would have yet another new recruit.

--Braden POV--

Looks like the jocks are at it again.  Charlie was officially turned into yet another musclehead jock.  We were kinda close, since we talked a bit during class, and I genuinely did get along with him despite his preference for jocks.  To be honest, I thought he was kinda cute, but all he would talk about is how hot the football guys were which was a turn-off to me.  I guess I shouldn’t be surprised that he gave in to them.  I’m sure he’ll have a great time taking dick in the locker room like he always dreamed of.

It was at this point that I finally developed a plan to put an end to the football team’s schemes.  I learned the other day that my mom was going to visit family for the week, so I would be alone with “Brad” until my dad got home.  Normally this would be a nightmare for me, since I’d have to stay at school until after his practice since he would be responsible for driving me home.  I decided that while he and the other jocks were at practice, I would sneak into the locker room in order to find any evidence that these guys were turning into jocks.  The more the better, but even just one piece of evidence would surely be enough to raise some suspicion against them. If I find any incriminating evidence, I’ll report it straight to the school and the police.  It’s all up to me at this point.

After class, I went to the library to get some peace and quiet and to get a headstart on some homework before commencing with my operation.  I found it hard to concentrate because I was so on edge.  I figured I wouldn’t have any problems since practice was still over an hour long, but the anticipation was killing me.  I was also distracted by heavy stomping outside.  It was after school!  Couldn’t they keep it down at least a little?  And then, even though I should’ve been alone, I heard someone else enter the library.

It was Charlie!  What was he doing here?  Shouldn’t he be at practice?  He was still wearing his uniform too.  I had to admit, his new look did suit him.  I found myself staring at his nice round bubble butt.  It was always on the larger side, but it had to look even bigger now.  His football pants helped to emphasize his best features.  What am I even saying?  Even if he was objectively more handsome, any attraction I would have for him would vanish as soon as he opened his dumb mouth.

“Hey, Brady!  I didn’t know you were still here,”  Charlie greeted me with a stupid grin on his face.  I hated that he was trying so hard to be friendly with me.

“Yeah, Bradley has to pick me up today,”  I responded.  Surely just putting up with him would get him off my back for a while.  The last thing I wanted was for him to interfere with my plans.  “What are you doing here?  I thought you’d be at practice.”

“I forgot my book in class, so I went to go get it really quick.  But then, I saw you.  Brad did say that he would be picking you up today.”  What an odd excuse.  I couldn’t imagine the coach letting him leave practice early for a stupid reason like that.

“Couldn’t you just go after practice?  Like don’t you have better things to do?”

“I told Coach I’d be quick.  Plus, I wanted to see you!”  He wrapped his meaty arm around my scrawny shoulder.  I could smell a strong waft from his armpit, from the sweat of a hard workout.  I would’ve pushed him off me, but there was little point fighting back against a man as strong as he is.  It was a friendly gesture anyways.

“I’m kinda sad that we don’t talk much, bro.  I know I spend a lot of time on the football team, but I would’ve liked to get to know you better.  I think you should join the team so we can hang out more.”

“I’m not…” my annoyant tone was paused as Charlie pushed his face into mine.  He was kissing me?  I had to admit, he was a good kisser, both strong and passionate.  I wasn’t sure if he was naturally like this or if his jock side made him a better kisser.  As our lips parted, I felt my face turn beet red.  I was overwhelmed, embarrassed, confused, furious, annoyed…No.  I couldn’t find any one word to describe how I felt.  I knew I wasn’t supposed to kiss him, but it did genuinely feel nice even if I couldn’t stand Charlie the jock.  I had to get it together.  He was obviously trying to mess with me, but my answer stayed the same.  “I’m not joining the team.”

“Yes you are,” a voice said as a set of hands grabbed me from behind.  Before I could call out for help, one of the firm hands covered my mouth, deafening my cries for help.  Fuck, it was Jake!  He must’ve snuck in while I was distracted and disoriented.  He effortlessly picked me up and shoved me into a black gym bag.  I was trapped.  I couldn’t see a thing and no one could hear me either.  It was a tight fit and I couldn’t fight back against the scent of old, sweaty gym clothes.

“Good work, little bro,”  Jake said as he high-fived Charlie.  “Now let’s take him to the locker room.”  Shit, they were already one step ahead of me.  I had to admit, these meathead jocks were smarter than I thought.  I remembered Charlie’s words and I realized what they were going to do to me.  They were planning to turn me into a jock!  This cannot be happening.  As I tried to think of a plan to get out of this situation, my mind became clouded by the intoxicating scent inside the bag.  I hated the smell of sweat and musk, but for some reason, I started to feel a little hard.  For some reason, I picked up one of the articles of clothing, a sweaty unwashed jockstrap, and out of curiosity, I found myself sniffing it.  I became distracted by the pungent smell momentarily as I was carried to my destination.

When I finally saw light again, I was surrounded by a horde of members of the football team in the locker room.  They all stood in a circle and they looked like predators, and I was their prey.  I contemplated the idea of running, but I knew it was physically impossible to outrun even one of them with their superior athletic abilities.  I thought about begging for mercy, but I knew they could not be reasoned with and because of my pride, I didn’t want me to come across as weak.  Brad walked over to me, carrying an entire football uniform that seemed way too big for me.

“Put them on, bro,” he ordered.  I obliged, seeing as I no longer had any say in the matter.  I felt a sense of embarrassment because the clothes were way too big on me.  It felt like I was a kid trying to wear his dad’s clothes.

“You’ll grow into it, trust me,” Jake said, his hand on Zach's shoulder, a proud smirk plastered on his face.  My worst fears were realized.  I didn’t know how but they were going to turn me into one of them, yet another jock.

“You’re probably wondering why we brought you here, little bro.  Well, we know you’ve been trying to get in our way.  You’re the only student in this school who knows or even cares what we do.  You’re the minority, bro,”  Brad explained.  He reached into my backpack which he was holding and pulled out the flash drive that stored all my evidence.  “I noticed that you were trying to hide this the other day when I came in.  You might just think I’m a ‘dumb brute’ but even I couldn’t miss something that obvious.  I wonder why you had to hide it, bro…” he teased as he inserted it into a laptop on one of the benches.  It didn’t take long for him to find the document I used to share my findings.

“Well, well…” Zach teased.  “Looks like someone did their research.  I’m kinda impressed at how much you use your brain, bro.  Too bad you won’t be needing it for much anymore.”  He then proceeded to delete the file as my hard work was erased from the flash drive.  I felt mortified as my hard work was all for nothing and I realized what was going to become my fate.  I then heard footsteps coming in from outside.

“I believe this is our first time meeting,” a commanding voice stated.  From the way he spoke, I felt any amount of defiance I still had in me turn into submissiveness, like a father catching his son sneaking out at night.   “It seems you already know who I am, but I’m Coach Myers.  I’m sure you’re full of questions, and don’t worry, I’ll have plenty of time to answer every last one of them.”

I was looking at the man in charge, the mastermind behind all of the jocks who were transformed.  I had so much I wanted to ask him, both out of curiosity and anger, that I didn’t know where to start.

“What caused you to turn these students into jocks?”  I asked.

“Good question.  I was always interested in bringing out the best in one’s self, but I never knew where to start until recently.  Me and Zach’s father were close friends in the NFL.  As a result, Zach always looked up to me, but even though he wanted to be a football player like his father, he wasn’t able to cut it.”

I looked at Zach, who normally seemed very confident and arrogant, but for the first time since I’ve seen him, for just a split second, he felt humbled, reminded of his shortcomings.  For once, I kinda felt bad for the guy even though I thought he was a total douche.  Despite the sob story, I still realized that what he had done was too far.

“He approached me in tears one day.  He wished he was stronger, wished he was more like the guys he looked up to at school.  And that’s when I realized that maybe I could help him.  And so we spent almost a year studying ways to transform his body and even his mind into the perfect football player.  And eventually, we succeeded.  Zach was exactly the person he dreamed of being.”

I now knew why and how it began.  Zach was the first, the alpha.  But why did he keep doing it?  “You helped to make Zach who he is now, but why did you continue to do it to other students?”  I asked.

“I’m glad you asked.  Although changing Zach was my finest achievement, I realized that there were many kids his age who were just like him.  Some felt inadequate, incomplete, inferior, and some just lacked any purpose in general.  So I gave these boys that purpose, and I made them into the strong men that they always dreamed of being.  And not just in this school.  High schools and colleges all across America are doing the exact same thing we are doing, all thanks to my innovations.”

I was shocked by this revelation.  This jock problem was happening at an even larger scale than I could’ve possibly imagined.  Surely there had to have been hundreds of guys turned into jocks just like here at this school, perhaps even some of the ones that tried to oppose them like me.  I realized how hopeless I felt.

“I know my research is unethical but I believe that what I am doing is right.  But back to you, do you not feel at least a little envious of your brother?”

I looked over at Brad…why was I calling him Brad?  I have to admit, I was always a little jealous of him.  He always seemed to be the favorite child, and now that he’s been jocked and has joined the football team, he’s infinitely more popular than me.  If I were just like him, then maybe…No.  That’s what he wants me to think.  But at the same time, I could imagine myself becoming as strong as him, becoming as popular as him.

And then I realized the futility of this decision.  They were going to turn me into a jock anyways.  But for some reason, I had warmed up to the idea, in a way that would’ve sickened me just an hour earlier.  Maybe I was experiencing Stockholm Syndrome, or maybe I did feel envious of Brad this whole time just like how Coach Myers described.

“Coach can make you just like he made me.  We’ll finally get along again, and we can bond better than we ever could before.  What do you say bro?”  Brad asked.

I looked at my brother, then around to the other jocks around me, then finally to Coach.  If I said yes, then I would have a brother again.  I’ll be more attractive and more popular and maybe I’ll even be happier this way.  Maybe Charlie will want to go out with me.  But that would mean erasing who I am to become yet another jock.  That I would lose and all of this would be for nothing.  Who am I kidding?  I already lost.  I was doomed to become a jock the moment I tried to intervene in their plans.  But you know, maybe this isn’t so bad.  I tried to imagine my jock life with a newfound sense of optimism.

“You’ll have to consent to joining the team before we can move forward,” Coach informed me.

“Enough with your monologue, I’ll do it,” I answered, with a sense of humiliation as I surrendered.  However, there was a slight smirk on my face, either from embarrassment or from how absurd my situation really was.

“That took less time than I expected,”  Coach responded.  “The rest of you, resume practice drills.  Braden, come with me.”  I obliged, anticipating what the Coach had in store for me.  I signed a form, put on some earbuds, and put the helmet on.  

As the hypnotic video in front of me played, I slowly became entranced by the spiral that was sucking me into my new life as I felt parts of my mind become erased, including any part of me that still tried to resist this.  “I wanted this,” I thought to myself as new thoughts and memories started to fill the gaps in my mind.  It was like a computer deleting old files that weren’t important in order to make room for stuff that mattered way more.  I always looked up to my brother Brad, as he was a year older than me.  He was incredibly talented at football, so naturally, I followed in his footsteps.  Being younger, I was less experienced than him, but he was a good role model and I aspired to match him as a player.  He was like the touchdown in the endzone and I was at the 50 yard line to put it in better terms.

My body changed entirely.  Every muscle in my body expanded, like I was being pumped full of air.  My football uniform that was way too big at first, soon fit me like a glove.  It was a little painful at first, but I soon felt a wave of euphoria rush over me as I became obsessed with my body, especially my new dick, which more than doubled in size to a massive 10 inches.  I started to resemble the new Brad, with the same short buzzcut.  Before we didn’t look much alike.  Brad was always more on the chubby side and I was on the skinnier side.  But now, we could almost pass as twins.  You could still tell which one of us was the little brother though.

This is who I am.  This is who I always was.  I am a football jock.  I started to love the idea of playing sports and working out, along with other things.  Except I always did?  Part of me remembered thinking the jocks were stupid, arrogant, and annoying brutes, but that’s wrong because all my friends are jocks and they are really cool, bro.  Bro.  Bro, bro, bro…I’m starting to like that word, dude.  Eventually I woke up, without any knowledge of what had taken place today, reveling in my new changes.

“I take it you won’t be a problem anymore, kid?”  Coach inquired.

“No Coach!  I’m sorry for causing you trouble dude,”  I answered.  Part of me felt off, and I felt confused for a second.  I wondered what got me in trouble, but I shrugged it off because I don’t think about that kind of stuff.

“I did keep some of your smarts, unlike the others, but you definitely won’t come off that way.  Your grades were better than the rest and I figured it’d be a waste if they were to completely go away.  How would you like to help me expand upon my research?”

“That’d be awesome, sir!”  I answered.  My new self couldn’t comprehend the irony that I would be directly helping Coach with the very schemes I was trying so hard to stop in the first place.  But why would I ever want to put an end to the very thing that made me who I am now?  I didn’t look or act the part, but I’m kinda smart I guess.  I’m not a fucking nerd or a know-it-all though.  Not that I really want to use my brain more than I have to except for counting calories and football plays.  I was interested in turning more men into awesome jocks like me though.  “Can I go back to practice?”

“Yeah, go meet up with the other boys.  I’ll be out in a sec.”

I joined my fellow bros and we resumed practice.  Playing football just felt natural to me.  We held a party after the game on Friday to celebrate our win.  We were on a huge winning streak.  We hadn’t even lost once this season!  At the party, Charlie asked me out, impressed with my masculine new look.  Turns out he did like me back after all.  He kissed me in the library after all, although I don’t remember why we were there in the first place.  He was always kinda hot, so I said yes, and we quickly realized how much chemistry we had beyond being bros.  We were soon the second couple on the team, the other being Jake and Zach, who were a year above us, who were just as cool.  Nothing wrong with some bro on bro action after all.

Me and Brad had a bit of a fight a while ago, but we’re cool now.  I’m even closer with my big bro than I had ever been before, especially now that we’re on the team together.  I loved life with my bros and I knew my bros loved their lives too.  After practice, I would stay after with Coach and Zach and we would look into ways to create more and even better jocks.  I haven’t been filled in on the finer details yet, but I know that they have big plans not only for this school, but for other schools as well.  I found this purpose along with playing football to be much more compelling to me than anything else.  If there was a part of me that was upset about this life, it definitely wasn’t there anymore because I loved being a jock.

--Zach POV--

I spent the night at Jake’s place again.  Today was a long day though.  Between practice and all the stuff with Braden, I was exhausted.  It did feel like everything was resolved though, and I felt satisfied knowing that our secrets were safe now.  I laid in Jake’s bed and I talked with him.

“Another jock well done bro,” I said, as I wrapped my arms around and kissed my boyfriend.

“We were awesome today,” Jake responded.  “I can tell that Braden is already loving his new jock body.  Glad he could finally see the light, bro.”

“Can’t blame him.  I have no regrets about anything though, even Braden.  How about you bro?”

“Me neither.  I love being a jock and I love making my bros into jocks too.  I’m with you every step of the way, bro.”

“That’s my bro!”  I rustled Jake’s hair before leaning in for a kiss.  For the first time ever, I felt completely content with my life.  I have Jake, Coach, and all my other bros to support me.  I’m the captain and star quarterback of the football team and I carry us to victory every game.  The jock life is perfect for me and for all my bros.  If even Braden could see how awesome it was, I knew that anyone could if given the chance.  I got hard as I imagined what it would be like if every guy at school was as strong and handsome as me.  If everyone was a jock.  With Jake on my side and everyone else, I knew we could take on anything, anyone.  Maybe even the world.  “We still have lots of work to do.”

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

This is the end of this series for now, so thank you for reading it. I'm open to expanding upon it even more in the future if the demand is high enough and if I have ideas on where to take it. I also have a lot of other shorter transformation story ideas that I want to write eventually, so stay tuned.

#jock #jock tf #jock transformation #jockification #jock bro #male hypnosis #male tf #male transformation #mental change #muscle tf #gay jock #nerd to jock #gay tf #dumbing down #muscle transformation #transformation #reprogramming #reality change #himbo #himbo tf #himboification #himbo transformation #dumber #football jock #mental changes #personality change

[asumofwords]

Smoke, Fire and Ash

Warnings: This fic includes noncon, dubcon, manipulation, violence, death, forced marriage, and inc3st. Tags will be added as the fic goes on. Cockwarming.

This is a dark!fic. 18+ only. Read at your own discretion. Please read the warnings before continuing.

Summary: You are the eldest daughter of Rhaenyra and Daemon Targaryen. You are forced to navigate the difficult surroundings of your upbringing and the eventual disintegration between your family and the Hightower's relationship. What will happen when your older and estranged uncle suddenly takes a more sinister interest in you? (Dark!Aemond x Reader)

Masterlist

Characters: Aemond Targaryen X Reader, HOTD characters.

Note: Hello my loves, this is a longer chapter than usual because I didn't want to split it up. Updates for a bit may be slow at the moment, but will try update you all as much as I can. Thank you all for the love and well wishes <3 Enjoy

Chapter 79: Moon Tea

Aemond stayed true to his word.

For days, you frequented the Gardens alone, and found that your peace was neither disturbed by the King or your husband. It gave you a reprieve and the chance to breathe away from it all.

A chance to collect yourself, to gather the pieces that had been violently scattered across the earth below. 

And with those days, you sat where you usually did and attempted to read the mountain of books and stories that were piled high in your shared chambers, courtesy of Aemond. Some being novels that you had read already, others being new ones that the Prince thought might spark interest. 

You had to begrudgingly admit, that he was right. 

The books that he left you did spark interest, if only you got through the first few pages before being unable to read further. Your attention span had dwindled, and even though you believed Aemond when he said he would keep the King away from you, any noise, any presence of someone walking past, a knight or servant or Lord, you would still flinch, and your heart would race in your chest. 

But still, Aegon had not been seen for days, and Aemond had been kind. 

When you woke that morning, the young Prince had been curled around you as he usually was, awake far earlier than you, but content to let you sleep for if only moment more. It was a routine that the two of you had fallen heavily into.

He would rise with the sun as he always did, and watch over you as you slept, tucked to his chest as a lazy hand would rub soft and featherlike fingertips across your skin, desperate to touch you, yet not wanting to wake you up. 

And you were thankful for it. 

For Aemond’s time away in Harrenhal left little time to sleep, or breathe, or feel safe. Aegon’s attack adding to further lack of sleep or calm, and in a shocking turn of events, you had all three in Aemond's clutches. 

You had wriggled in his hold, and the One-Eyed Prince hummed, pressing a lingering kiss atop the crown of your head. A gesture that you had previously only gotten from your mother or father. 

When you were both dressed and seated at the table, the maids had brought in your breakfast for the both of you. The usual of meats, eggs and fruit, and todays warm bread, whose crust crackled under your excited hands, had olives kneaded throughout. 

You ate together, enjoying the way the soft sponge of the bread had subtle sour bursts of flavour when a hidden slice of olive was revealed to your waiting mouth. It was different, and it was something that you decided in that moment that you liked. 

Joanna placed your tea in front of you, and you thanked her softly, pulling the small glass pot of honey towards you as you put two heaping serves into the steaming brew. As you stirred the tea, Aemond watched you with an inquisitive eye before speaking, your spoon clinking against the side of the china. 

“What are your plans for the day?” He asked, watching as you brought the teaspoon to your lips to lick the remnants of the honey off, sweetness coating the roof of your mouth before placing it back onto the matching saucer. 

“I was going to go for a stroll through the Garden, then perhaps make my way to the Library.” You picked up the steaming tea and brought it to your lips, blowing the steam away.

“I will be joining you today.”

You brought the unsipped tea away from your lips, “Oh? But haven’t you your duties to attend to?”

“I have a duty to my wife.” His eye was focused on you, “And so I have freed my day to spend it with you.”

Freed his day?

Your stomach turned, but for what reason, you did not know.

You nodded stiffly, bringing the tea to your lips to sip, tasting the tart, minty tea move hotly down the back of your throat. You blinked, a spark of familiarity bursting on your tongue. 

“And what shall we do on this fine day?” You asked him, hot tea in your hands still as you looked out to the window. 

The sun was high in the sky, and there was not a cloud in sight in Kings Landing. There was no looming storm, or brusque winds. It looked to be a beautiful day.

“It’s a surprise.”

Anxiety was what you felt. 

Surprise. 

You sipped at the tea again, eyebrows drawn as you tried to figure out why the tea you had been drinking so frequently suddenly tasted oddly familiar. 

“Are we going to see Vermithor?” You asked, knowing that you would not. 

But you so desperately wished to see him. You so desperately wished to fly again. To be by his side. To feel his bond and connect again. To assure him that you were okay. To soar high amongst the clouds, to feel free, to feel you again.

Aemond did not respond, and let the chambers bask in the silence of his answer. 

No.

You looked down and placed the tea back on the table, moving to take a star fruit onto your plate, cutting it up to eat. Aemond watched you the whole time, no longer using your hands to tear the flesh apart, and instead using the sharp knife and fork. 

“Perhaps,” Aemond began, watching your reaction, “I could take you to fly upon Vhagar’s back.”

You swallowed thickly, heart beating against your ribs, hands tightening around the cutlery. 

Vhagar. 

Arrax.

Lucerys.

Dracarys.

“I think I am perfectly content on the ground, thank you.” You grit out. 

You did not want to be anywhere near Vhagar.

You lifted the tea to help wash down the tart star fruit which seemed to have gone bad in your mouth, its sticky flesh stuck in the back of your throat.

As the steaming brew washed over your taste buds you froze again. Why was it so familiar? Tart. Minty. A hint of honey. Aemond’s eye was no longer on you, instead sheepishly looking down at his plate as he cut through a thick slice of sausage.

Familiar. 

“Please Princess, you must drink the tea.” The Dowager Queen had said quietly, the Maester beside you looking with clinical eyes, the colour from them seemingly gone, and nothing but a blank mask upon his face. 

You took another sip, letting the brew settle upon your tongue. Minty. Tart. Almost earthy in its flavour, and yet as you took another trying sip it all came together. Aemond placed some meat into his mouth to chew, eye looking back up at you. 

It was familiar. 

And now you knew why.

Moon Tea. 

It was Moon Tea. 

They were giving you Moon Tea. 

You sipped deeply on the tea in hand, draining the last of the dregs into your eager and waiting mouth. 

It was Moon Tea. 

They were giving you Moon Tea. 

You placed the tea cup back down on the table as you looked at your husband. 

Was he giving you Moon Tea?

Was this his doing?

You moved to open your mouth and ask him, but stopped. 

Aemond, would never give you Moon Tea. Aemond would never prevent his seed from taking. Because Aemond had done nothing but tell you of his desires for an heir and watching you grow with his child. 

You placed a small cut of star fruit into your mouth and chewed in thought.

Could it be them?

Could it be the King?

Was this another part of Aegon to spite his brother? 

Or was this Alicent or Otto’s doing?

No.

The Greens needed an heir to support the treaty and solidify it. 

As Aemond began to finish his meal, the maids entered the chambers to collect the plates and empty cups, Joanna’s eyes flitting to the empty tea cup. 

She was checking if it had been drunk. 

The maids.

The maids had been giving you Moon Tea.

But surely the maids were not doing it of their own volition, after all they barely know you, and if either were caught giving you such a thing, both would be killed for treason.

Aemond stood to move about the room, collecting some tomes on the side table.

But only Maesters, woods witches and brothel mistresses were skilled in making the tea. 

The Maester. 

Aemond came back over to you, books in hand. His pale fingers were wrapped tightly around a pile of three, a familiar black leather bound book that was broken on the top. Aemond looked at you and waited for you to stand. 

You stood on shaky legs, mind reeling. 

The Maester and maids were giving you Moon Tea.

You had allies. 

Kepa.

You bit the sides of your cheeks to stop the smile that attempted to wind up your face, and blinked away the tears that had begun to tickle at your eyes. 

Your mother and father had eyes on you.

The two of you walked down to the gardens together, the sun beaming warmth on the two of you. You led the way to your favourite spot, and Aemond followed, moving to sit at the small table that sat in the centre of the space.

The Targaryen Prince placed the three tomes in the centre of the table before turning to look at you. 

“The road ahead of us is not easy.” Your uncle began, voice crisp, “But I intend to pave the path with good intentions.”

Aemond kept his violet eye on you, the sun brightening the sapphire orb beside it.

Road?

“If you will let me.” He finished, waiting for your response. 

Your mouth felt dry. 

“And what road do you speak of?” You spoke slowly, unsure. 

Behind Aemond, a group of servants came towards you, silver and gold trays in hand.

You looked at Aemond, brows furrowed, before back at the servants, who began to place trays of food atop the table around the books.

Atop the silver and gold trays were cakes and pastries of all kind, rolls of puffed custard, buns with cinnamon and biscuits, all piled high and far too much for the two of you. Some more familiar, the others new to you. 

On one tiny china dish in particular, sat two lemon tarts. 

“Aem, stop!” You giggled, rushing towards your uncle as he snuck into the Keeps Kitchen, small hands grabbing piles of freshly baked lemon tarts in his own. 

“They’re your favourite!” The young boy hushed, grabbing more than his hands could hold, tucking them into his arms before turning to face you, violet eyes dancing in mischief and cheeks blush red.

“Shh! If the Septa-“ You began, smile cracking wider on your face as you turned to look around the darkened kitchen as a noise caught the both of your attention. 

Footsteps echoed down the hall, and Aemond’s eyes widened, one hand flying out to grab yours, a single lemon tart falling to the floor between you before he was pulling you with him towards a secret path, winding down the corridors. 

Your hand flew to your lips as you giggled, half running with your uncle into a dark secret passage, hidden behind a stone door covered in a painting of two lovers entertained, fire ablaze around them.

As you ran through the corridor and through the passage, two more tarts were lost on your escape, falling to the cold stone floors, forgotten by the two young children who had stolen them. 

Loud laughter pealed from the both of you as you heaved in breaths, Aemond’s hands holding the crushed tarts to his robes, sticky crumbs stuck to his green robes in the dark.

“There is a thief amongst us!” You exclaimed, nothing but joy rising in you. 

“No such thing.” Aemond responded defiantly, teeth showing in his wide grin.

“Well, give me the spoils then.” You giggled, greedy hand reaching outwards towards Aemond, who still held the tarts nestled against his chest by singular arm. 

But only two remained.

Aemond’s small hand lifted a crushed tart and held it out to you, smiling. 

You turned to look at Aemond, “Lemon tarts?”

“I remember them being your favourite.” He hummed.

You could not stop the smile that teased your lips. 

“I remember you stealing them from the kitchens.” You teased.

“And I remember you asking me to.”

You moved to sit at the table, spiced Dornish wine being poured into seperate goblets for the two of you. Aemond followed and sat opposite, back stiff as it always was. The man seemed to have a permanent stick up his spine, posture exactly like his mother.

They were more alike than either would likely think. 

“I did no such thing.” You responded contritely. 

“Hm.”

The two of you sat together and nibbled at the plates of treats, sipping from your wines as he reached across the table, picking up the broken leather tome to hand you ‘The Fourteen Flames’.

There was an undeniable shift between the two of you. 

Aemond could be an ally. 

Not only had the One-Eyed Prince stepped away from his duties for the day, he had arranged for desserts of all kinds to be brought to the two of you. He had brought three of your favourite books to read together.

And he had brought lemon tarts. 

You took the book from Aemond and flicked it open at the start, not knowing where you had gotten up to the last time, barely reading the words on the pages, instead thinking about what was to come and what was required of you. 

The two of you nibbled and read in parallel with each other, a silent affair, if not for the soft chewing, sips, or the turning of pages. On occasion, Aemond would hum as he read, and you could not help your gaze from rising to look at him. 

You let yourself observe him, if not truly for the first time since your arrival, in a way that was undisturbed or clouded by rage.

The soft round cheeks that Aemond once had, had melted away from his face, revealing sharp and high cheekbones that hollowed his face. The nose that had once been buttoned and sloped, had now grown aquiline, pointed, and angled, sharp to match the rest of his features. 

You remembered that if the days were humid, or if he had spent much time training, his hair would become wavy and frizz, the volume doubling, much like his mothers.

As a child Aemond had shoulder length hair, that he always wore in the same style, until recently. Today, his hair was pulled backwards from the sides, braided and pulled into a singular, long braid at the back of his head, the rest of his silver locks laying flatly on his back. 

A ray of light shone on one side of the man, and his silver hair seemingly glowed from the light. As though it held light itself. As though it was created for it. For Valyrian blood carried these Godly aspects, and for the first time, you looked at him and realised what it may be like for someone of non-Valyrian descent to gaze upon you. 

It looked heavenly.

Godly. 

Pure. 

Was this how he saw you?

Was this how the realm saw you all?

Was this why you were said to be closer to Gods than man?

The longer you looked, the more you noted about your husband. 

His lips were plumb, a soft pink, and curled lightly up at the sides, as though he was always smirking or on the verge of smiling. His lips, which you had seen sneer, and grin, and frown at you, naturally tilted upwards. And you were stuck with the knowledge that they were soft. 

Then there was his eye.

As children, you had loved his eyes. The way they had expressed so much, had shown so much, without the need for words. You could tell when he was younger if he was upset or excited, and despite how hard he would argue that he was neither, you always just knew. The bright violet would light up when you were near, and the two of you would excitedly talk for hours. And as he has grown, the violet seeing eye had stayed the same. 

Ever telling of his moods and desires.

But now, a large scar cut through his cheek, and the secondary eye you had loved as a child was lost, and replaced with a sapphire orb. A colour which you had once loved, the colour of the night sky when the stars lit the realm, the colour of Forget-Me-Nots in Spring, or Gentians in the late days of Summer, or even, now that you looked at it longer, the colour of blue Monkshood, flowers you knew to grow towards the North.

Sapphire had once been a colour that marked the flowers bloom for you, the stars and their tales, but now it marked a time of change. The eye that was lost was replaced, and so was that part of Aemond. 

With the loss of the young boys eye came the embodiment of the deep and grotesque scarring. The violence, the anger, the rage, and the spite. With the loss of his eye, came the Aemond that he had grown to be. 

Scarred. Tortured. Angry. 

Riddled with sorrow, animosity, and cynicism. 

And over the few days having been spent together, and the tension slowly bleeding away from the two of you, you came to realise that there were still small parts of Aemond inside that you remembered. 

Still holding on. 

Still lingering. 

The Prince’s seeing eye was a reminder of what was, and his missing one a reminder of what is. 

One violet eye. Your memories of youth together.

The sapphire orb. The new memories created.

Good and bad, both there upon his face. 

Both there within him. 

A man of complexity that even you were still trying to understand.

But he had changed.

His demeanour towards you had changed. 

Always you. 

I love you. 

Aemond was not the only one who had changed either. You had changed too. The scars on your body were similar to his eye. A reminder of what has happened. A reminder of change.

A reminder of what has been lost. 

Visual representations of the people that you had turned out to be.

And if you continued to play your cards right, if you continued to slowly gain his trust, if you continued to slowly get him to come to your side, to follow your every beck and call, to carry out his word own doing anything for you, he could help you.

Do anything for you. 

Kesan tepagon ao tolvie run. 

I will give everything to you.

It was slow work, tedious, and something that could not be rushed. Go too fast in creating the bond, and he would know something was amiss. He would know that you were not sincere in your affections or intentions.

He would know.

For Aemond was a smart man, cunning, clever. As he always had been.

But you had been working to his strengths, and his weaknesses, as well as your own, and finally, the fruits of your labour were beginning to show. 

Though there was a shadow of doubt that continued to linger in the back of your mind. 

Was he manipulating you the way you were him?

Was he aware?

For if he was, he did not show it. But after recent events, the matching black robes, his violence towards Aegon, his disdain being voiced aloud, you knew that you were succeeding in what you had known would be a long, and lengthy process. 

Aemond was already a suspicious man. Untrusting. And it would take time. And time is what you had. He would take from you, and you would take in return. 

“What are you thinking?” His voice pulled you from your thoughts. 

You felt your cheeks blush and you cleared your throat, looking down.

He had caught you staring. 

“How different you have become.” You replied, looking back to his violet eye. 

Aemond hummed and placed the book he had been reading back into his lap, closing it shut, and you mirrored him, shutting the busted tome in your own. 

“You have… grown into a man.” You continued. 

“And you, a woman.”

His gaze was so intense, the way he looked at you made your heart skip a beat. His pupil almost swallowed his iris whole, and the lid of his eye was half closed, looking at you from under his lashes.

Looking at you with intent.

With desire. 

Hungrily. 

Ravenously.

You looked away, eyeing the untouched lemon tarts on the side of the table. Neither of you making the first move to eat them, instead nibbling at all the other treats around them. You even dared to eat a rhubarb tart, which flavours were not favoured by your tastebuds.

Aemond followed your gaze, and reached for the small plate, lifting it across the table and offering it to you. 

You took the tart from Aemond’s waiting hand. The darkness of the passage shrouding the both of you, a small sliver of light streaming in from an open hole on the side, shining moonlight onto the older boys hair. 

The young Prince smiled brightly at you as you bit into the tart, watching you with excited violet eyes as you hummed, enjoying the sour and sweet pastry. But the young Prince did not move to eat his tart, and instead, Aemond held it in his hand as he watched you devour yours. 

Crumbs covered your lips as you licked them clean, swiping up the lemony custard away from your lips. The young Prince’s eyes darted to your mouth, if only for a moment. A warmth spread through his body and a blush rose on his cheeks, though you could not see it in the dark. 

“They are so much better when they’re fresh.” You had grinned, chewing loudly as Aemond tried his best to not laugh at his niece who ate more like a wild animal than a Princess, but he still did not move to eat it with you.

“Aren’t you going to eat your spoils, Aem?” You had teased, confused as to why the older Prince had not moved to eat the treat that he had stolen. 

A pause. 

He was thinking. 

Aemond slowly moved his arm, tart in hand towards you, and offered you his wordlessly.

A shy smile replaced the once excited one on his lips.

You blinked at Aemond and reached across the table to grasp a tart, putting it on your plate.

Aemond’s hand lingered between the table, unsure of whether to take the plate back to himself, which he eventually did, picking up the fresh tart and placing it upon his own plate. 

You stared at each other uncertainly, waiting for the other to begin. And when Aemond made no move after a few moments past, you picked up a small fork and pressed down into the centre of the tart, cutting it in half, and then half again. Aemond watched with a keen eye as you brought it up to your lips to chew. 

The sweetness of the tart spread across your tongue, subtle hints of lemon mixing with the pastry. You could not help the smile that spread on your lips, eyes closing as you savoured what had been a favoured treat in your youth. 

“They are so much better when fresh.” You spoke, watching Aemond slowly cut into his own, though not lifting it to his mouth. 

“Are you not going to eat yours?” You asked, watching as he seemed to enjoy observing you eat.

Aemond smirked, his eye roaming slowly up and down your body, “My tastes are more inclined to things that are sweet.” 

You blushed, heat rising in your cheeks. 

Aemond was flirting.

Warm spread through your body as you shifted, rubbing your thighs together, “I think you also like the bite that comes with it…. The lemon, of course.” You said coyly, a small smirk of your own spreading on your lips.

“Truthfully, lemon tarts have never been favoured by me.”

“But you used to always eat them as a child.” You argued, brows furrowed, “You would steal large piles of them in the Kitchens for me and-“

Oh.

Aemond gave you a small, shy smile, though it short lived before he picked up his plate, and offered it across the table to you, tart cut in half, untouched beyond that. 

Uneaten. 

"Here." The young Prince handed you his tart in the dark, small smile on his lips.

"Are you sure, Aem?" You had asked, hand hovering in the air between you.

"Take it." He smiled.

An offering that you took.

“I thought you liked them.” You said, almost feeling guilty.

“I liked them because you did.”

-

That night you lay in bed beside Aemond, curled against him to sleep, the heat of his body radiating around you. You shifted, trying to get comfortable, rolling over to face your back to him as you closed your eyes.

The day had been good.

You had spoken without vitriol, ate sweets, and read together. You had walked around the Gardens, purposely avoiding the spot where the Monkshood grew, before you both had stopped at the Godswood, looking up at its bright red leaves. 

Aemond had moved to sit beneath it, but it was too much for you. Too normal. Too familiar, and you had lowered your head and walked back to the chambers, leaving a confused silver haired Prince behind. You ate dinner together quietly, and thanked him for spending the day with you, for the lemon tarts, for the walk, with a list you had compiled in your head, and he had given you a small hum in response. 

When you were readied for bed, he had not looked at you, nor had he moved to touch you like he usually did. And instead, let you crawl into bed first, and then him a while after. Writing hunched over a parchment and singular candle light before joining you. 

The hour was late, and your eyes had grown heavy, lulled by his even breathing and the warmth that he brought in the otherwise cozy chambers. 

Two large hands gripped your waist as you had rolled, pulling you back against him. 

Aemond, you quickly realised, craved physical touch. Searched for it wherever he went. Sought it out in you. Even if it was the barest of grazes of a finger on your arm, a hand through your hair. His hand in yours. Your body wrapped around his. 

Aemond craved it, and sought it out from you frequently, and you let him. 

The thin chemise that you wore did little for your modesty as you felt Aemond’s hardening cock press into the flesh of your ass. You shifted, feeling heat bloom within you at his arousal, rubbing backwards against him. 

Aemond sighed, thrusting slowly up against you as one hand held your stomach, pulling you back on him, the other worming its way beneath your head, reaching out to grip the hand that had rested beneath it. 

Long fingers intertwined with yours as he pushed forward again, anticipation building in your chest. The hand on your stomach slid over the curve of your hip, resting on the bone as he pulled you back to guide you against him, chasing his own pleasure as the chemise slowly rose up your thighs.

Reaching back, you pulled the thin silk further up your body, revealing your bare core to him, before moving back again, grasping his heavy length in the palm of your hand. Aemond groaned and thrusted up into your grip as you gave him slow pumps. 

You bit your lip, and guided the head down, feeling the leaking tip rub his arousal on your inner thighs as you lined him up with your core. The hand holding yours tightened, and you felt a puff of breath blow against the back of your head.

Rolling your hips backwards you let his cock glide through your folds, your slick coating his length. You sighed, back arching as his tip brushed against your bud, pleasure sparking within. 

Aemond’s chest vibrated with a groan as he let you arch backwards towards him, assisting in the angle as you pushed the head of his cock to the entrance of your dripping centre.

Slowly he pushed through your folds, groaning as he stretched you apart on his cock, pleasure blooming in your core as you felt every vein and ridge of him brushing your walls inside. 

There was no pain anymore when he did this. The pain had long gone, and only pleasure was in its place as you clenched around his length.

Aemond pulled out slowly before thrusting back into your heat, fingers twitching on your hip and in your hand. You mewled loudly into the room as he began to fuck you slowly, sensually, and sleepily.

You let your head roll backwards onto his shoulder as he kept a steady pace, the sound of your slick folds filling the chambers as you whined. 

The gentle pleasure bloomed within you, with the angle and the way he was moving, his cock brushed against your inner pleasure spot with each thrust. Aemond had learnt your body well, in ways that you did not know where possible. In ways that he continued to learn, and continued to show you the results. 

You let him fuck you sleepily, his hand moving to gently rub against your bud, soft, slow twists of his hand that gradually brought you closer and closer to your peak, other hand moving beneath you to grab at your breast, using it to pull you tightly against him.

Aemond did not whisper to you that evening, only soft moans and sighs leaving his lips behind you, head buried into your neck as he brought you lazily to your peak.

Pleasure rocked through you as you moaned, hips stuttering backwards as he continued his pace, fucking you through your release, slick coating your thighs and his cock as the fingers on your bud continued their ministrations.

Hot flames licked at you as he continued, his pace faltering as your walls clenched down on him tightly.

Aemond came with a grunt, pushing his cock to the hilt within you as he breathed raggedly into your shoulder, lips occasionally placing soft kisses to the skin. You felt his seed fill your core, its warmth settling inside of you hotly. 

Turning your head, Aemond captured your lips into a searing kiss, keeping himself inside of you. He kissed you until you felt out of breath, your release blanketing you in the fuzzy warmth of fatigue.

You hummed as Aemond pulled away, pulling you tightly against him, his length twitching inside of you.

You shifted, trying to tilt your hips so that his cock would slide from your folds, but Aemond only tightened his hold on you, pulling you tighter to his chest. 

“Shh. Go to sleep.” He murmured into your neck, placing another wet kiss there.

You stopped wriggling, feeling oddly full as you tried to do as he said and fall to sleep. It was distracting having him inside of you, and you would occasionally feel his cock jump within you, causing you to moan quietly and clench, and Aemond would shush you again. 

Slowly but surely, the fatigue of the day swept you to your sleep, with Aemond still buried deeply inside of you.

Thanks so much for reading along with me, if you wish to be added to the tag list please let me know :) Likes and reblogs are greatly appreciated ! Enjoy <3

Tag List:

@izzicle @ej-shitchats @may-machin @alegria1580 @witchy-jadda @videovampire @inkdelicious @queteimporta39 @virtualsweetsqueen @fo-cus @auratiqs @feyres-fireheart @queenofshinigamis @asoiafwh8re @teasandcrumpets @shesjustanothergeek @grungegrrrl@queenofsarcazm @marihoneywk @curlszx88 @virgogaia @loser-keiji @asoiafwh8re @whore-of-many-hot-men @vipervixxen @theonewiththeimaginaryboyfriends @watercolorskyy @lavendervisions @mazmack666 @chokefrog @orangejump-suit @nik2blog @serrhaewinin @ohemgeewhat @winxschester @cryptidsrcool @drinking-tea-and-be-obsessed @celestedonut @bloodyvelvet777 @iamapersonthatsalive @av-sos @yentroucnagol @sanzu-s @opheliaas-stuff @bellameshipper @maviee @persephonerinyes @neytiri-09 @ensnaredinwonderland @xbluegracex @sotragedynut @nattieot7 @shesawaywiththefairies-blog @coffedraven @prettycutebunny @celestedonut @the-jess-life @ssulfurr @out-of-life @madislayyy @crazylokonugget @cicaspair418 @katwmk @relminnie @milovart @teagrex @visenyaverse @bellameshipper @toodlesxcuddles @tempt-ress @dontmindmereading7 @qyburnsghost @55gyi53vtnquwziq5 @notnormalthings-blog @maidmerrymint @qyburnsghost @madislayyy @chelseaouat

Bold is who I cannot tag!

#aemond targaryen fic #aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen smut #aemond targaryen x y/n #aemond x reader #aemond x fem!reader #aemond x you #aemond x y/n #aemond targaryen x you #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond smut #hotd smut #dark!aemond targaryen x reader #dark!aemond x reader #dark!aemond targaryen #hotd #house of the dragon #hotd fanfic #dark!aemond #dark!fic #fic #series #aemond one eye #aemond the kinslayer #aemond targaryen fanfic #aemond #smoke fire and ash

[ohcorny]

hey corny. so i always see people recommending to outline their story before starting it, but could you talk a little bit more about what that means? what is an outline and how do you structure one? how long are the ones you write, depending on the project? do you focus on plot beats or feelings? how specific do you get? can u recommend any readings for learning more?

up front i don't have any resources for this, only experience. and outlines feel like one of those things where it's like... there are a million ways to do it and the way that works for me might not work for you. i have a friend who writes out all his ideas on index cards and that, for me, is insane. but he's also a better writer than me so who can say what is right or wrong.

anyway an outline is essentially a sketch but for a story. you go through the whole thing, start to finish, and figure out what goes where and what happens when. the idea is that this is the stage where you work out all the big picture stuff and make sure it all fits together, now, and not after you've drawn twenty pages and suddenly go "wait shit that doesn't work" and have to do it over. it is much easier to delete and rewrite a paragraph than to redraw several pages.

doing anything more, ie including dialogue or feelings, depends entirely on how useful that information is to you at that point in the process and whether the purpose of the outline is for your own guidance, or so somebody else can tell what you're trying to achieve.

this got really long with multiple examples

here is an excerpt from the original outline i used to pitch Hunger's Bite to publishers. this one had to be polished to a professional standard, because somebody else was going to read it and decide whether they wanted to give me thousands of dollars to tell this story. (also several of the details are no longer accurate. for instance it now takes place 9 years earlier lmao)

this paragraph represents the first eight pages of the book. the final book is 264 pages long, and the outline was 12 pages of paragraphs as dense as this one.

it establishes where we are, who's there, and what they're doing. i describe their conversation, but i don't commit to the dialogue. i will occasionally include snippets of literal dialogue, but usually only if it's Important Dialogue, or i just don't want to forget a good idea i had while outlining. it's not expected at this step.

an outline written as part of a pitch to a publisher should tell the whole story, with all the important details, and leave nothing ambiguous. they need to know the tone, shape, and the arcs. no secrets! all the spoilers. outlines for yourself should do this too, but outlines for others need to be as clear about your vision as possible. again, an outline like this exists for the purpose of getting you paid thousands of dollars. you should write it like that.

in comparison, here's an excerpt from the outline i wrote for revisions to my WIP prose novel, so i could show it to my agent (who already read the draft) to be like "do these changes sound good?" i'm not selling it to anyone yet, just making a guide so i can have a conversation about it. so it doesn't need to be neat, it just needs to be functional and clear. the first chapter was entirely new stuff. the second bit was just writing down what was already in the chapter that existed.

i have historically been very bad at outlining things when i don't think i "need" to, and only wrote this one after having written like 60k words of the book without any overall plan. i gave what i had to my agent for feedback and then sat down and figured out how i could apply it. it's made the whole revisions process significantly less daunting. now i have a checklist for things i need to do! this one was a paragraph or two for each chapter, with the ones that needed a lot of rewriting given a bit more detail.

lastly, here's a bit of the outline for the first roger crenshaw book. i was the only person who had to see this, and since the story was planned to be very short i didn't have to worry about a whole lot. as long as i knew what was supposed to go where, it would work. honestly it's not a whole lot different from the previous example.

this one was like five paragraphs and it did the job, and this story was like 15k words. you only need as much or as little as will actually help you on the page.

basically if you take nothing else from this, it's that there are multiple ways to write an outline, that it does not need to be perfect if you're doing it for yourself, and that it only needs what you think is important (unless it is for other people. then it should have everything). and also it's a good idea to do it earlier in the project than after you've written 60k words or drawn--jesus christ i got up to 12 chapters in never satisfied? it's amazing i didn't quit sooner

[uglypastels]

Not Wholly Evil |IX| pirate!Eddie au [NSFW]

a/n we are getting so close to the endddd oh my god i am so excited and sad at the same time because i don't want this story to end as much as some of you, but I also cannot wait to share my next lil projects with you 🥰 thank you for all the support on the last chapter!

this chapter will include explicit scenes. Minors DO NOT Interact. 18+. if you have read the previous chapters but do/should not wish to consume this content, please read:

Chapter 9 (safe for work version)

Series Masterlist

word count: 13k

"semi dark fic" - READ the warnings:. (gun/sword)violence. blood. mention of severe wounds. minor character death. allusions to suicide. kidnapping. imprisonment. alcohol. open and deep sea. near-death experiences in water. men are pigs: mentions of non-con, but it does not actually occur. [in-dream] non-consensual behaviour. malnourishment and weight loss. paranoia. mention of poisoning. abuse. manhandling. lying. small wounds inflicted by fire. blackmail. binds and knifes. SMUT 18+ ONLY, MDNI - p in v sex. oral (f receiving). no condom (this isn't the 18th century. wrap it before you tap it). choking. thigh riding. jealous!eddie.

Chapter 9: Paragon

“Perhaps the wolf wasn't quite so dangerous as he pretended. Unfortunately, there was only one way to find out for sure——give him a little rope and see if he hung himself… And pray that he didn't tie her up with it instead.”

― Sabrina Jeffries, Dance of Seduction

He looked like he saw a ghost. And maybe he had. You didn’t feel like yourself, so who was to say if you were still alive? You had comprehended how you carried yourself back to the Hellfire. Standing in his room felt like you were looking down at yourself. Aware of everything around you but understanding none of it.

‘I thought you had left.’ He stepped into the room, leaving the door wide open. As he walked, you noticed he was clearing the way for you, allowing you to leave if you wanted to. His eyes were intently focused on yours and threaded lightly. Like any wrong move would cause you to disappear.

‘I wanted to,’ you admitted. You still wanted to. Your thoughts had screamed through the night for an escape. Yet, something tied you down to this ship and made you return.

‘Then why didn’t you?’ He came closer, and so did you. That string pulled at your ribs again, pulling you two closer. You had tried long enough to fight it to no avail. Whatever you thought you wanted did not compare to your subconscious need to be next to him. 

‘I don’t know.’ Deep down, you knew the reason, but the time was not there yet to admit it. In your mind, you still despised everything about him, this ship, the crew, and, therefore, yourself for needing his touch as much as you did at this moment. It was weak to give in to him like you did.

The candle’s light fell upon him at angles that brought something new out in him or maybe revealed what had always been there. The signs of the wear and tear of a life at sea. He wasn’t hiding it any more, letting all that pain be visible, and he looked beautiful. You held back from reaching out and tracing the thin scar against his brow or the flawed line of his nose that must have been broken once. The longer you looked at him, the more you realised that you could look at him in this way forever. 

And that scared you. 

Munson walked past you to his desk, occupying himself with whatever he could reach. It would have been good for you to have something to focus on instead of him, but you stood in the middle of the room with nothing but him to clutch onto. Neither of you spoke, stuck in an awkward limbo, tiptoeing around one another to see who would be the first to step over that line. The line that had kept you, your heart, safe until now. You could impossibly predict what was to happen if it was crossed.

The ship creaked as the tide softly bounced off it. For the rest, it was uncharacteristically quiet on board.

‘Is the rest coming as well? Will we be departing soon?’ It was ridiculous to change the topic in this manner, but you simply did not know what else to say, and this barrier between you and him was dreadful. You could sense it in the middle, waiting for that catalyst to burst. And you wanted it to. Just how?

‘No, I doubt they realised I’ve gone.’ He finally turned back to face you, leaning against the desk, arms crossed, eyes on the ground. If he could just look at you—would that make things easier or that much harder?

‘Why did you? Leave the tavern, I mean.’ With your heart pounding in your throat, tightening your breath, you stepped toward him. 

‘I noticed you were gone. Then I heard you had gone to the harbour with some man and I thought…. I grew worried.’

‘Why?’ You could not imagine him caring for you to go out, away from his crew and his festivities, to look for you. 

‘I know what you’re thinking, and at first, yes, I was thinking about the money,’ he admitted, which took you aback. You took a step closer. ‘But then I—when I realised, or thought, that I had actually lost you, I thought about how I would never see you again, and I realised—’ his words faded as you took your final step towards, letting your chest press against his. He finally let his eyes meet yours. 

‘Realised what?’ Considering your proximity and seclusion, you hadn’t meant to whisper, but it felt right. 

‘That I was scared’ His breath was shaky as his eyes took all of you in. ‘Of loosing you.’

‘I was scared too.’ And maybe that is what kept you from leaving. The idea that if you would go, there was a possibility that you would never see him again, and it was enough to hollow out your entire being with dread. It felt wrong. But that gnawing in your chest stayed there the whole night, even when you had returned to the Hellfire, and it only left once you felt his fingers intertwine with yours. A flutter of a touch at the fingertips.

‘And? Are you still scared?’ He matched your hushed tone with his response. The question was simple on its surface, but only the facade for an obliterating iceberg was the truth. 

‘No.’ Standing in front of him, feeling his breath on you, the warmth that radiated off him, his gentle touch on your skin, seeing the smile hiding in his features, you saw nothing to be scared of anymore. There was nothing to fear anymore. The voice in you that had screamed for help all those days was silenced for a final time when you leaned in to kiss him.

His lips were chapped, cheeks rough with scars and the light shadowy scruff of a beard. His touch was featherlight, as if he was scared to pursue it as if you were to break underneath him. It starkly contrasted the force he had pulled you in with hours before. The intensity had been dizzying, and yet this was what genuinely shut your mind down entirely. But you could tell that he was not there yet wholly. Something kept him guarded. 

You pulled away, but your lips still shared the same breath. When you opened your eyes, you were met with his and how they were shaking with uncertainty as he took all of you in. 

‘Is there something you’re still afraid of?’ you asked.

‘Many things,’ his hand found its place on your waist, ‘but mostly of myself,’ and gently pushed you away. ‘And what I will do to you. I have made so many mistakes, mistakes that hurt you, already in that I will have to live it for my eternity, but I do not know what I will do if I make one again.’ 

There was silence as you took in his words. You understood them, possibly more than anyone could, for they were yours. As your lips met, you thought if what you were doing would lead to your doom, if it would all end in a disaster, but could something that felt so right be so devastating?

He had let his eyes fall to the ground. You reclaimed the one step he had made you take, closing the gap between you once more and letting your hand guide him to look up at you.

‘Do you think that kiss was a mistake?’ Your heart beat faster than it ever had as you waited for an answer, but his lips remained shut, so you continued. ‘If so, do not play with my heartstrings, but tell me, and I will leave. I will return to my cell, and you can lock me up and never see me again until you bring me back home.’ It would only be a couple of days, and it would hurt to mend this extremely fragile piece of you that you had just opened, but like all wounds do, it would heal eventually.

‘Answer me, captain.’ You kept your voice as steady as possible, regaining the confidence you had built up since you got onto the ship. ‘Was that a mistake?’

‘No.’ And with that one final word, you both leaned in for a kiss. Your hand was still on his cheek, his holding you tightly, but you still felt that urge to pull yourself closer to him. As you felt the press of his chest fully against yours, he actually pulled his lips away from yours. He hesitated but finally spoke against the corner of your mouth. ‘But… call me Eddie. Please.’ 

You couldn’t help but smile into your next kiss. Just like that, all that weight of the world fell off both your shoulders, down into the depths of the ocean, never to be seen again. You didn’t hold back with this newfound freedom when you pushed him up against the desk. The furniture shuffled with a creak over the floor, and you could hear some things topple over at the impact. Still, neither of you cared, too occupied with one another. He could just about manage to extend his hand and begin to push all the loose items off the desk to make space for himself. The papers flew around you, and all the measurement equipment clattered onto the crowd. 

As the kiss intensified, Eddie shrugged and smoothly sat up on the desk, pulling you in with him. As he slowly let himself fall back, you followed, attached by the lips, hands, and hearts, until you practically lay on top, arms keeping you up from falling entirely onto him. Well, one hand, as the other found him and laced your fingers together once more. He had tried to make more space around you, pushing objects aside, when he cursed loudly.

You startled away and saw the clench in his jaw as he took a deep breath. He must have read your panic-stricken face as he showed you his hand. ‘It’s alright,’ his voice was calm, humour peaking through it. ‘I might have just put my hand right into the flame.’ And indeed, the side of his hand was glowing red. 

Hearing this did not put your mind at rest as you tried to grab his hand and inspect the damage more deeply, but he pulled it away from you, instead taking your fingers in his and kissing your knuckles. 

‘Don’t worry, my darling,’ he smiled while kissing your hand, ‘Can barely feel it.’

He had just made direct contact with fire; you doubted it would be alright, but then again, you had seen all the scars on his body. This would just be another small blister among the list of many. But you blinked the thought away. Tried your best to not think about the pain he had endured. You doubted he wanted you to feel pity for him and what had once happened to him. 

The look in his eyes was adamant. He needed you to let it go, so all you could do was sigh.

‘You’ve gone mad.’ 

Eddie chuckled at your comment as he let his lips travel over your wrist, over the length of your arm. ‘As mad as any other sane man.’ His kisses moved over the material of your shirt. The lack of contact that was so clearly there shot sparks of anticipation through you, but he took his time taking you all in until his lips reached your collar. He had practically strained his neck to reach you from his position. Some of you wanted to back away to see how far he would follow you, but your weaker portion gave into his touch and melted over it. 

He had just kissed your neck, sparking a fire through you on the spot, when a noise boomed over the silent ship, bursting you out of the solitary moment of bliss. In an instant, Eddie held you by the hips as he gently pushed you off him and got himself back on the ground. There was an alarm in his features, and so, when he looked at you and told you to “Stay here”, for once, you listened.

He closed the door behind him as he left to see what the noise was, and when minutes later, he had not returned, but there had also not been any more ruckus or signs of danger; you calmed down. Unsure of what to do now, you lay down on the bed. In the past few days, the bed had gotten more comfortable as you got used to it, but it still felt strange. You lay down on your side, facing the wall. The patterns in the wooden planks almost seemed to move in the shadowy light and, unfortunately for you, brought you into a trance of clarity and thoughts.

What were you doing? How could you have let all this happen? Kissing the man that had caused the death of so many people that you had deemed friends. How could you betray their souls by… by falling for him? You had lost control of all your feelings and emotions. 

It was a trick of the sea. You had simply been captured on this ship for so long that you did not know what was wrong or right. How else could you explain the yearning feeling that still circulated through you? Why else did you wish he was still here with you, touching you?

With all these thoughts occupying your mind, you must have missed Eddie walking back into the room, mumbling something about how it had been a few of his crew that stumbled back up to the ship. Too busy with your own mind, you did not hear him calling your name softly, assuming you had fallen asleep and telling you good night. You did not hear how deflated the last words came from his mouth. You only caught the sound of the door closing behind him. 

And soon you managed to turn all these thoughts off and fall asleep. Except then, they came back even stronger and in the form of dreams. You found yourself back on the Red Tail. The hawk flapped its wings on the flag in the wind and every man’s uniform. The sun shone brightly in its last few minutes before hiding behind the horizon. It was a strange illusion as you stared down at the ship and the two figures that stood out looking at the sparkling sea. You watched yourself talking to Admiral Carver.

‘I would have imagined you to have grown tired of the water by now,’ he laughed.

‘I won’t say I will be happy to return home, but I can’t ever see myself becoming tired of this view. It is beautiful.’ You leaned forward onto the balustrade and breathed in the salty air. ‘Besides, you have done this for much longer than I have, and you’re here too, so it can’t be that bad.’ It seemed it was only your first expedition while he had crossed the world several times. If anyone was to grow tired of it, you thought it would be him. 

‘Perhaps you’re right,’ he had his arms behind his back, ‘but everything is more bearable when there is something back home to look forward to.’ 

‘I suppose so.’ You would not exactly know what he meant. Of course, you could not wait to see your father again, and your friends, but nothing at home gave you the sense that it genuinely anchored you there or drew your heart in for your return. ‘I am sure you miss your family very much.’

‘Yes, of course,’ He took a step closer to you, ‘but I will miss these moments.’

‘Oh,’ you were startled by his proximity, unsure how to respond. Politely, you smiled and tried to keep the conversation going, ‘I’ve enjoyed them too, uhmm-’, but you were suddenly thrown off-guard when you felt his hands on you. Before he had the chance to do anything, you were quick to push him off. ‘What are you doing?’

‘Taking our last chance before it’s too late.’ He leaned in again, and you stepped back. 

‘What about your–’

‘She does not need to know.’ The sea was a free playing field for most men, so what happened out there was not up to the women at home to know. You had seen adultery but never thought the admiral would participate in such activities. He had been drinking; maybe he wasn’t thinking straight. Before he would make any more mistakes, you attempted to walk away, but he caught you by the arm, putting all his strength into the hold.

‘Admiral, you’re hurting me.’ You tried to pull your arm back, and this is where things began to change. Where the dream made itself apparent. Carver’s handsome features turned into vicious angles as he spoke. 

‘So you’ll kiss Munson, but not me?’ 

‘What- what are you–’ you tried to get away, but it was as if he grew in size. And there were flashes. These flashes of light. Like lightning, there was no thunder, rain, or light. It blinded you, and you tried to regain your sight by blinking, but each time you did so, he seemed to change right in front of you. 

There was him like you knew him, but the next second he turned into this nightmarish version of himself, but there were moments when he wasn’t himself at all. You’d blink, and suddenly you saw Captain Munson. Still in that uniform, however, you would try to make sense of it all. Still, before you could, he would disappear again, and you would be looking into Carver’s blank eyes, and you’d see the blood dripping from his mouth as he spat out his words.

‘Don’t trust him.’

‘What?’ You had tears in your eyes, and your wrist burned from his touch. There was another flash of light. Eddie stood before you again, just as you knew him. 

‘Do not trust him.’

Don’t trust who? Who were you meant to trust, then? The questions rang through you as you woke up, head throbbing with pain, limbs sore and dehydrated. If you did not know any better, you would have blamed the rum you consumed the night before on everything, making you imagine all that had happened. Still, the sensation that Eddie had left on your whole body felt too real to be just a drunken dream or nightmare.

He was not in the cabin when you awoke, but you could hear him outside, yelling commands out. When you looked outside the window, you could tell by how the waves moved that you had departed the Saint Claire harbour and were on your way again.

You sat up in bed but remained still afterwards, uncertain what to do next. Some part of you wanted to go outside and see Eddie, talk to him about whatever it was that had happened that night. Still, a bigger side of you doubted you could ever look him in the eye again. Seeing your reflection from the glass doors of a cabinet in the room, of yourself in his bed, made you feel bad enough. So, staying in the room for the rest of the day was not an option either. You were already at the door, hand on the handle, when it opened, nearly crashing into you. 

‘Sorry,’ his apology was muffled. 

‘I was just on my way out,’ you muttered in the same awkward tone and walked past him. 

‘Wait,’ Eddie reached for you, and the memory of your dream of Carver made you retract away from him, regretting it as soon as you did. Eddie wasn’t him, but you treated him the same because of something your exhausted mind had decided to conjure up. Eddie kept his distance. ‘Can we talk?’

‘Later,’ you pleaded. This was not the right time. You could tell that it would not end well if you stayed there. 

But when would it be right? When would the stars align correctly for you to speak? It certainly wasn’t the next two days, as you kept walking in circles around eachother. You avoided him like the plague, and it was unlikely that he had not noticed yet. 

You kept yourself occupied with anyone else but him, really. Talking to Robin, Steve, and anyone else who seemed to require company as much as you. Almost as much, at least. It shocked you as well as them how smoothly the conversations went. While only a little was exchanged, neither side being too keen on sharing too much of their past, somehow, you still managed to fill hours with polite pleasantries. Some even showed you how to work around the ship, probably more than happy to give you some of their workload now. You didn’t mind. It was alright if it stopped you from overthinking everything that had happened in the past weeks. But it was still hard to do when you felt Eddie’s eyes on you. He’d watch you work the sails or anything else from afar, but when you’d try and catch him, he’d be suddenly occupied with something and walk away. 

The biggest surprise, however, came one evening when everyone had gathered for their final meal of the day. You had gotten your portion and were ready to return to the cabin when Robin pointed to the seat between her and Steve. You wanted to politely decline, feeling like you did not strictly belong in this dynamic—the crew’s meals felt more sacred, a moment for them to spend together, but they all saw your argument coming and shut it down. 

‘Never thought I’d say this,’ Wheeler, one of the lankier crewmates, said at some point, ‘but I might actually miss you.’ There was a cloud of agreeable laughter to which you belonged. It was funny, but what scared you was that you would miss them too when that eventual day of your return home would come. 

And it was coming.

Something about the air around you began to feel more familiar each day. And when you talked to Robin, you could sense that she knew how much time there was left. But each time you asked, she avoided answering straightforwardly. 

‘Not sure. But you know how seatravels are, you can never be sure… I mean, we should have been there days ago and yet,’ she laughed nervously, tying knots in a piece of old rope that someone had cut off once. 

‘I suppose you’re right.’ You had your own piece of rope and were toying with the frayed ends, pulling them apart mindlessly. You could hear Eddie talking to someone somewhere around, and you did your best not to look up. It had been days, but your tension still felt raw and strange. You wanted to simultaneously run into his arms and run away from him as far as possible, and you could not figure out which urge was the right one to follow.

‘It probably won’t take much longer, don’t worry.’ Robin said, her shoulder slumping as she untied another knot to remake it.

‘I’m not worried,’ you admitted. 

‘No, and you don’t need to be,’ Robin panicked, not wanting to give you the wrong impression of what she had intended to say, ‘but I’m sure you’ll be glad to be home.’ To this, you had no response because, very much like in your last days on your old ship, you had been eagerly awaiting your return home but did not feel like you were actually happy to go back. On top of that, you actually had the sense that you would miss this crew. By leaving, you would be leaving something behind, and you had never felt that before.

But it still did not feel right. Like a kink in your neck that you were trying to stretch out until it disappeared.

‘Can I ask you something?’ you said cautiously. 

Robin glanced up from her rope. ‘You always scare me when you say that.’ 

‘I hadn’t noticed I did it often.’ 

‘You’re quite inquisitive. It’s commendable, but dangerous.’

‘Should I be scared?’ You blinked. 

‘Not here, but in other parts of the world they’re not too keen on it, so just beware.’ She had tied a knot she couldn’t loosen anymore. ‘But what was your question?’ 

You took a deep breath. ‘Why did you target the Red Tail? And I know it was targeted, since the captain was aware what ship you were attacking.’ There was that other puzzle piece that was missing in your brain. How would he know if you were supposed to be on that ship or not? 

Robin froze and dropped her rope. You watched it fall to the ground and her reaching to pick it up clumsily. Once she did, she fumbled around even more with it. ‘I’m probably not the best person to ask this; I joined the crew late, I don’t know everything that’s going on around—’ she was getting distracted, losing the point of your question, or so you thought, ‘I had only heard things, but you have to know that people around here, we trust each other and that trust is earned. We might cheat once in a while in a game of cards or dice, but some things you just can’t lie about.

‘So, I didn’t need much convincing from the captain when he said that those— that those were bad men.’

‘He told you that my crew were bad men?’ 

‘They needed to be punished.’ Robin shrugged, but not in the way that made you think she thought indifferent. More so that, there was nothing she could do about it. It was a brief apology to you, not for what they had done, but as if she was sorry for being the bearer of the news. 

‘Punished for what?’ you asked, but Robin shook her head. Right, she wouldn’t be able to know, and you didn’t blame her. Was there anyone around willing to share more of the specifics of this situation? You felt like you had the right to explain what had brought you to their ship, but it would go past some lines of comfort for the men. Could you dare ask Eddie? 

But to ignore him for days just to come up with these questions could not be appreciated; then again, he owed you at least this after being the sole reason for your presence on this ship in the first place. He had caused all this mess. He could at least help you clean it up. 

You finished your conversation with Robin slowly, without any urgency to actually put it to an end. It must have been confusing to Robin, who saw how you tried to tie your sentences up to walk away, just to disentangle them just as she had been doing with her rope and keep pulling it back. Ultimately, she stopped it all and excused herself from the argument she needed back on her lookout post. She walked away, giving you this look that made it clear to you that she knew what you were planning to do and how apprehensive you were to do it. And whatever for? You had fought, punched, slapped and kissed Eddie in the past days without hesitation; why could you not just talk to him now?

Because that would actually mean something to you. It would unblur all the lines that connected you into a clear pattern, and you would have to live with those results, and you just were not ready for that yet. 

You took deep breaths as you walked up to the captain’s quarters. The door creaked as it slid open but was met with a resistant force as you collided with Eddie. He grunted lightly at the impact, and you began to apologise. 

‘Sorry,’ you mumbled, not expecting him to be so close suddenly. You had hoped to catch him at his desk, where the furniture could keep some kind of barrier between you. Still, now he stood mere inches away, towering over you and the heat of his body radiating onto yours. 

‘I was just on my way out.’ He scratched his beard casually, but his eyes said enough about how similarly he felt about your sudden appearance.

‘I hoped we could talk,’ you blurted out, and Eddie blinked.

‘Talk? Now?’ To this, you only nodded shyly. It had been too long. You had made him wait for days, which was simply too long. Why would he want to listen to what you had to say now? Eddie was ready to brush past you, but you were quicker, catching his arm and pulling eachother closer until your lips met in a chaste kiss. The suddenness stunned him, but for a blink of an eye before his muscles melted into position around you. It only confirmed your worst thoughts, how perfectly the two of you fit together, how your bodies simply locked into place with one another. The heat that grew between you could not only be felt by you. It was too strong for that. As much as you did not want to admit it, there was something there that you did not want to lose.

‘I’m sorry, ‘you said breathlessly, ‘for everything I’ve done in the past few days.’

‘You have done nothing to apologise for.’ He sighed.

‘Exactly,’ you jumped back at how loud you sounded. Still, his pull on your waist kept you close, ‘I have done nothing, while I should have stayed here with you, and we should have talked of, of whatever it is that stands between us, but—but I was scared. I thought I hadn’t been, but I was, and that, in turn, scared me even more, so I thought I needed time to think—’ 

‘And did you?’ He looked down at you inquisitively like he was observing a strange, yet highly fascinating, phenomenon in front of him. Something that he should not be enjoying as much as he was. The unwanted smirk appeared on his lips no matter how hard he tried to hide it. It made you aware of just how much you had tried to say in what short of an amount of time.

‘Yes,’ you said with a slow breath to help you calm down. At this, Eddie simply reacted with a gesture telling you to go on, to tell him what kind of discovery you had made. Would it be anything that could help your conundrum? Clear things up in your heads and maybe even hearts? You could not be sure, but it was a start if you just let those parts of you speak freely.

You took one more deep breath. ‘That night you asked me if I was scared, and I said “no”, but…’ you pushed past the shake of your voice. ‘But I realise now that that wasn’t the truth.’ As you announced this, the hand on your waist tightened its grip before leaving your body entirely. The immediate lack of contact made you regret your choice of words. Maybe you should have prepared what to say, but letting it come out unrehearsed and unplanned felt like the right thing to do. It would not cut out any of the emotions you felt. What you wanted him to know that you thought, so you stammered out your following words.

‘There is so much that I am scared of. It scares me how and how much I have changed in the past few days, and I am scared that I do not mind it. It scares me how much I enjoy being here and how much I want to be… with you.’ Your last words faded as you had not expected to hear yourself say them out loud. Eddie, who you had watched as he walked around the room in slow paces as he listened, must not have expected them, too, for he stopped to stare at you, dumbfounded.

‘Why?’ was the only thing he said in response. 

‘Because…’ you let out an exasperated sigh, walking up to him. You had somehow managed to find yourselves at his throne, ‘because this is not who I am supposed to be. I shouldn’t be. You are you; I am me, and nothing here is right.’ Yet the puzzle had never fit tighter together than it did now. But at the same time… ‘As much as I want to spend my days with you, I cannot stop thinking about all the chaos you have caused in my life. Whether on purpose or not…There is blood on your hands, Eddie.’ there were tears in your eyes. Eddie looked down at his hands as if you had meant it literally. They were pale and had a shake to them, but he quickly put them down to his sides.

‘And yet you’re still here.’ He said it with a distance, more to himself than anyone else, narrating the events as if putting it all into words could make it make more sense somehow, and maybe to him, it did. However, you were still utterly clueless and running in the dark.

‘I am.’ You nodded your head lightly. ‘And I wish I could explain why. To you and to myself, but I simply do not know.’

‘Let me pose you these two questions then,’ he spoke sternly, and you got the unexpected feeling that this would be a test you had to ace. ‘Are you still scared of me? Do you regret anything that happened between us?

‘Answer yes to either of my questions,’ he held two fingers up, ‘and I will make all of this very easy for you and disappear. You will never have to see me again but be honest.’ Looking into his eyes the way you were, it was difficult to lie, or it would have been if you had any intention of doing so. The word came easier to you than anything else had in your life, but you still needed to know some things before sealing your fate.

‘Before I answer, I need to know your business with the admiral.’

Eddie scoffed, looking out the window, ‘I could not care less about the admiral.’ Something in him tensed up despite his attempt to make his reply come out casually. Everything besides his eyes, which flickered with so many emotions simultaneously, you could not distinguish between them soon enough.

‘But the attack on my ship was deliberate, was it not?’ You did not need this to become another one of your rows and spoke as carefully as you could manage. If one of you began to raise your voice or fill your words with anger, it would take over the other, exploding fatally in the middle, and that is not what you wanted.

‘What do you remember from that day?’ He looked at you, head cocked to the side as he studied your face. He saw you blink slowly, trying to understand what he was implying.

‘I remember everything.’ How could you not? It was one of the most terrifying days of your life. ‘I remember being on the deck and seeing your dark sails and how I hid under that desk as the canons went off–’ 

‘Whose canons?’ He stared at you blankly, and you mirrored him perfectly. 

‘What?’

‘What canons did you hear go off? Who shot first?’ He did not say anything else, just stood still as you tried to reply with confidence that you lost as soon as you gave your answer some thought.

Everything had happened so quickly, and it was so loud. All you had tried was to block it out. But you heard the bangs. They came from all sides, but the first one... the first one was the closest.

Eddie must have seen the recognition on your face. ‘I know that those people were your friends. And I am sorry that that is how things-’

‘But you said I was not meant to be on board. You knew what ship it was.’ You cut him off at the memory. ‘You would have attacked either way, wouldn’t you?’

‘It is not that simple.’ He shook his head.

‘Isn’t it?’ 

‘No, and I wish I could explain, but I fear that whatever I tell you will only make you see the worst in me and them.’ 

‘You could at least try.’ You reached for his hand, and a bit of you leapt in relief when you saw he did not pull away. ‘I want to understand, Eddie. You do not know how horrible it is to live in this realm of uncertainty and oblivion.’

‘Would you rather live with the horrors of the truth?’ He asked genuinely, with the pain that exactly this truth had caused him in his eyes.

‘Is that not a choice I deserve to make by myself?’ You once again found yourself up against him. Funny how it always came back to this and how you would not have wanted it any other way.

‘You’ve said it yourself; I’ve hurt you enough times. I can not risk doing it again. I will not let myself do that.’ He brushed a strand of hair from your face, brushing his fingers over your cheek. ‘Now, will you please answer my questions?’

‘No,’ and with that, you answered both. Whatever tugged at you from the inside to feel such anxiety had nothing to do with Eddie.

On the contrary, you felt a sense of calm whenever you saw him. And you had wanted, really wanted, to regret those kisses, but you still dreamt of them at night, and it was all with a magical wonder that you wished to experience once more. Despite everything in your life that had led to this that would have told you to turn around and run away, you stayed firmly in your place in front of him with no intention of ever running away again.

Eddie leaned in, and you anticipated a kiss that never came as he spoke against the corner of your mouth, sending shivers down your spine. ‘I need you to say it, darling.’

‘I’m not scared of you, Eddie.’ The tremble in your voice had nothing to do with fear but all with the way he held you. His hand had moved down your cheek onto your neck, fingers wrapped around your throat, thumb caressing your jaw. His eyes pierced through you. ‘And I do not regret anything.’

You knew Eddie had seen all the far corners of the world. You must have come across the grandest of riches. Yet standing in front of him, you could not help but think how seeing Captain Eddie Munson beam his most genuine smile was the rarest and most beautiful treasure of them all. It was infectious; you could not help but smile at it. 

He let himself come close again, but just as your lips were about to touch, he spoke instead. Right against you, the hot air of his breath pricked at your skin with his light laugh. ‘Before all of this, had you ever imagined yourself here with me?’

As much as you had wished it was not true, ‘I did, actually.’ Your mind flashed to your dreams, the ones you had once thought were conjured up to plague you, but now you realised it was just your heart screaming out your deepest desires.

Like a reward, Eddie kissed your cheek for your reply. ‘Really? The princess had thought of me, a filthy pirate?’

‘I’m not a princess.’ You rolled your eyes playfully.

‘Out of all the things to dispute, you argue my words of affection?’ He chuckled, and you could feel the vibrations deep within his chest. 

‘There was nothing else to correct.’ You wanted to laugh but instead froze at the sensation of Eddie lightly putting pressure on your throat as he was still kissing pieces of your face. Just like that, everything in the past minutes disappeared from your mind. When he pulled away, you saw the mischievous glint in his eyes that once used to bring out fear of the worst in you.

‘Glad to know you haven’t changed too much, darling.’ With his hand around you, he gave you little choice but to look up at him. There was a moment in which both of you took everything of the other in. You tried to soak in all his features from this small distance, for some reason feeling the need to remember them all. Meanwhile, he read your face for any signs of reluctance, which he found none of. ‘You enjoyed that, didn’t you, princess?’ 

A question which brought a lot of enjoyment out of him.

Still taken aback by his actions, you stood there with your lips slightly parted, bewildered, so all you did was nod. And again, your response was rewarded with another kiss, finally letting you meet his lips while tightening his hold on you.  The weak sound that came out of your mouth at the feeling was an instinct. You had never heard yourself make such a sound, and he must have known it somehow as his grin grew wider against you. 

The kiss grew in strength by the fleeting second as you both lost control over your bodies, just letting them speak for themselves. It was messy and heated. The pent-up tension that had been sitting between you was finally finding its release. Eddie’s hands roamed over your body, almost in a hunger-like manner, devouring you with his touch alone. Maybe this hunger felt too real when Eddie’s teeth grazed over your neck, sending an unknown spark through your body at the sensation.

You held onto him tightly, one hand on his shoulder as the other rooted itself in his dark locks—which made you soon realise that the tiniest of motions of you caused a reaction in him as well, in the form of a low hiss as you pulled the hairs on the back of his neck. It had been an accident, as you tried to keep yourself up when the pleasure he brought you made you feel light as a feather.

Eddie hummed at your response as his hands continued their wandering path across your body. The pressure of his palms, combined with the slow and tantalising pace at which he moved, drove you to press your body eagerly against him, which, in turn, only spurred him on to continue down this track of your curves. His movements got rougher as he kept going.

With your urge to keep your bodies close, you quickly caught on Eddie walking backwards. You followed him mindlessly until he found his throne seat and pulled you along with him, right on top of his lap. At this proximity, you could feel all of him underneath you.

‘Tell me,’ he kissed you briefly between words, ‘have you ever been with a man before?’

‘Yes,’ you dared to reply with the truth. Anywhere else, it would have been considered a great shame, a sin of the highest degree, but with Eddie, somehow, you felt like he had wanted that to be your answer. You tried to focus on his face, that smile he shot up at you and the short answer you gave him, instead of how his hands roamed over your thighs. Even with the fabric of your trousers in between, his effect on you was immense. He must have felt how you tensed up when he reached your core. 

‘Did anyone ever touch you like this?’ 

‘Uhm, no, not in this way.’ You struggled with the words as he let his fingers press over your most sensitive parts, everywhere all at once. You could barely keep track of it. Another moan escaped you as his hand moved over your breast. Even with the fabric keeping your modesty intact, he had still found a way for his fingers to move smoothly across your nipples. The feeling lulled you into comfort, brewing the heat inside your chest. And so, you gasped as, with one aggressive pull, Eddie ripped the material of your shirt in two, revealing you to him entirely. Your eyes were wide in shock as his darkened with want.

‘Not scared of me yet, are you, princess?’ His hand was on your ribs, waiting for permission to touch your bare skin. 

‘No,’ your voice sounded like a hushed, airy whisper. Eddie smiled but still hesitated with his subsequent actions. As the shirt sleeve fell off your shoulder, he kissed you again. Except this time, his lips met your breast. The arch in your back, the tug of your hips towards him, was an almost mechanised reaction to it. And with it came the friction of his thigh against you. 

‘Eddie.’ His name sounded shaky coming from you as you could barely inhale a steady breath, too occupied with him.

‘That’s right, princess.’ He groaned as his lips remained on your skin, kissing the valley of your chest. With each kiss, your want for him grew, but your movements over his thigh barely covered the needed friction. You dug your nails into his shoulders, making him groan out in pained pleasure. He cursed before taking you by the hips. ‘Stand up.’

You did as he asked, something that did not go unnoticed by either of you. Eddie chuckled as he looked up at you, chin on your stomach, lips nearly pressing against it, so close you could feel the vibrations of his voice. 

‘So you can be good for me.’

A snide remark was already forming on the tip of your tongue, but Eddie was quicker. Smoothly, he pulled down your trousers and let them pool at your ankles. You stood in front of him in only your torn-up shirt. His large eyes were on you up until the moment his face made contact with your core, and at that moment, everything went black. You could just about make out that you held him close to you, pulling at his hair; as for the rest, the world was turning upside down and around at a speed that made everything seem like a sea full of stars. Your moans filled the room as his tongue licked through your slit. 

You assumed that with how he held you with one hand, his fingers would leave marks for days, but the other was much lower. You could hear the sound of a belt unbuckling. He was clearly struggling to work around his clothes with only one hand, especially with most of him already preoccupied with you and your pleasure. Never before had you seen such kind of ferocity in a man. Not when he pulled himself closer to you and practically fell to his knees from the throne. You surely would have fallen back if it had not been for him and the desk that hit your legs and now acted as an extra grip. It was especially needed when Eddie pulled your leg over his shoulder, gaining even more access to you. 

The desk kept sliding back with the force at which he held you in your place, grazing the floor, but it was all blocked out by your moans. They were filled with curses and the repetition of his name as your vision blurred with ecstasy and your body tightened with need. There was no possible way that the rest could not hear you through the thin walls of the cabin, but you could not care less about them. At this moment, they simply did not exist. 

‘You taste absolutely divine.’ Eddie spoke while kissing your inner thigh, making your legs even weaker. You noticed his lips glistening, never looking more kissable than ever before. 

He had run your mind through a mill; words were hard to come by. All you could muster out was a weak hum as you let your hand brush through his hair. At that, he nuzzled himself between your legs again, this time much gentler, and took his time kissing every inch of skin he had access to, giving you the time to catch your breath while still keeping you on that high edge.

‘I—I never…’ you still struggled to form a sentence.

‘Hmm,’ he kissed your stomach, ‘I know.’ And he slowly rose to his feet, catching your face in one more passionate kiss. You had gotten so used to how he tasted—rum, tobacco, sea air— that your flavour threw you off for a moment, but soon enough, you were sinking into him just as before. And again, you could hear the struggling twinkle of a locked belt buckle. 

‘Would you be a doll,’ he said with his amusement running down your cheek, ‘and help a poor man out.’

You reached for his trousers, undoing the belt and unbuttoning them so they could drop down his thighs. You had felt it before, how aroused he had grown, but seeing it made you take a step back. 

‘Nothing to be afraid of, darling.’ He grinned, placing a hand on your cheek. The other made itself comfortable between your legs, toying with your wetness. 

‘I know.’ You looked into his eyes. The warmth of them had burned up into a dark and hungry desire. Putting a light pressure onto his shoulders, you pushed him back down into the chair. Eddie practically bounced in the seat, taking you all in as much as you took the moment to look at him. Your flicker of confidence in the moment when you thought you knew what you were doing fizzled, but he must have read that off of you, as the next second he was the one pulling you down. 

‘Was this how you expected it to be,’ he murmured against your ear, ‘when you thought about us.’ 

‘No,’ you admitted. It was nothing like you had imagined. All your dreams had been of what you had thought he was; careless, dangerous, feeding off your fear. There had been none of this passion that you felt now. None of the heat, the tenderness or the feeling.

‘Anything you’d still like to change,’ he kissed the soft spot of skin behind your ear that made you shiver. 

‘No,’ you gasped. You could feel him against you, just waiting for the moment to enter you. The two of you were dancing around it, letting other make that next move, the plunge off the cliff, with no return. You shuffled over his thighs. One more kiss would seal the final deal when you moved your hips up and he adjusted himself infront of you.

The moan you let out at the feeling of him inside you, of him stretching your walls and filling you whole, was impossible to miss. Ships from miles away could probably tell what was going on, but again, they were not a part of your universe in this moment. Just you. You concentrated at the pace he was making you keep up with. The roll of your hips against the grind of his. Each thrust went deeper and harder making Eddie more aggressive in the most blissful of ways. There was nothing else to think about, because why would you when this felt so good? Reality went lost on you, until you felt his fingers dig into your side, a pain rushing through you. 

Both of you froze.

‘What’s wrong?’ Eddie immediately looked to where he had held you, pulling the remaining pieces of your shirt up to reveal the scar. The rough skin was a stark contrast to the rest of you. He met your eyes again. ‘Does it still hurt?’

‘It’s just sensitive.’ You wanted to push his hand away, cover the mark up again so neither of you had to be reminded of it. It had been a stupid mistake, that much you knew, and it was not as if you could change the past, so why let it pester you? But Eddie was not the kind to give up easily. He pushed the shirt material back up, keeping your hand away from him, to inspect the damage he had caused. 

‘I’ve done a lot in my life that I will forever regret,’ he kissed your shoulder as his thumb traced over the scarred line, ‘but this will probably haunt me the longest.’ His words and touch, combined with how you sat in his lap, still full of him, got you lost for words. Because, of course, you had hoped that this was his sentiment, you understood and appreciated his words, but what else was there to say? The only thing you could think of replying, which felt silly to do seeing your current position, was ask for some clarification.

‘What happened? I would have thought you had more control over your sword than that.’ You aired the conversation with a bit of laughter, but it only spurred him on to thrust deeper into you.

 ‘I had thought so too,’ he kept moving his hips forcefully, ‘I had hoped so,’ he kissed you sloppily, ‘but I lost it all when I saw you with him.’

‘Who?’ you asked. Maybe under different circumstances, you could have thought more clearly to realise what he was speaking of, but that did not seem possible. 

‘Harrington,’ the name came out of him with a bitter taste. Apparently, the feelings from that day had not disappeared as far as he had thought, but now he could let these frustrations out in a less hazardous manner. It still took a toll on you, but there was no pain to speak of. Just pure pleasure. 

Still, the mention of the crew member had surprised you. ‘Why– why would you—’

‘The way he held you, smiled at you, don’t you think I had wanted to do that? From the moment I saw you—but all I did was drive you away. It was just another reminder of my failure and before I knew it I—’ he stopped himself, still unable to properly speak of what happened. You kissed the bridge of his nose. 

‘For what it’s worth,’ you tugged at the words to come out cohesively, ‘I never thought of him as—’

‘It does not even matter what you think of him,’ he laughed, more so at himself, ‘You could fall for and by happy with any man on this earth and I could make my peace with it. I just don’t want to be the reason for your suffering.’

‘I think—’ a moan burst through your thought with another deep thrust, ‘I think you have managed to pay back any of your wrongdoings.’

‘Oh, darling, I haven’t even started to repay my debts.’ And so, Eddie kissed your neck, over and over, and with those kisses moved down to your brest. Your head rolled back with a soft whine at the attention he gave you, if not with his mouth, than the hand that kneaded your flesh and played with your nipples. 

As he kept going, and as your hips met his and the pleasure burst through you, you could feel everything coming to a close. The tightness in your body swelled while your control over it strayed. There was no possible way you could hold on for much longer and from the looks of it, Eddie had no plans on making you wait. He bucked his hips into you harder and harder, almost impossibly for you to keep it all in. You could explode with this pleasure and that is exactly what he wanted.

‘Mmm c’mon, princess. Feel so good around me,’ he hummed, ‘could anyone make you feel this good?’ 

‘Just you,’ you moaned out, holding tightly on to him as you felt the tension build up in you. 

‘That’s right,’ he had a smug smile across his face that you wished you could wipe off, and you would if you did not need him to keep doing whatever it was he did. Were his fingers back between your legs? Rubbing tight circles, sparking up your sensitivity. ‘Just me.’

‘Just you, Eddie,’ his named squeaked out from between your teeth when he reached the deepest part of you.

‘I’ll never get enough of you saying my name.’ 

‘Eddie,’ you repeated it in in a haze with his final thrusts that finally brought you over the edge. Stars fell over you in pleasure as Eddie slowed down his movements, letting you come down from the high. He held you tightly in his arms as you let your head fall on his shoulder until you fell into a comfortable silence. There was only the rush of the waves and your tired breaths that filled your ears.

Once your heart settled back to a steady pace, you knew it wasn’t safe. As good as this moment felt, it wouldn’t last. Whatever this was, there was no possibility in which it would outlive this voyage. Then, once it was over, it would hurt. That much you knew. Possibly more than anything had hurt before, and you would just have to be on the lookout for that end until then to let yourself become at peace with it. There wasn’t another choice, as this idea always stayed with you in the back of your head from that moment on. When you fell asleep in Eddie’s arms that night, you thought how many more days you got to wake to in such bliss as you did the next morning.

You could not tell if Eddie had these troubles, you could not tell, for he went through his following days much like before. The only difference was that his free minutes were now occupied with you.

It had not been your intention to make it so obvious to the crew, but there was also so little you could hide from them. Nothing could escape the dozens of interested eyes, so why hide your affection towards their captain? He certainly was not making any attempts. Any chance he got, he found himself at your side, holding you, kissing you, then behind closed doors, do all the other unspeakable things to you that made the others turn green of envy. 

Your mornings and afternoons were much the same as they had been before the night of the storm and the Hellfire’s arrival at Saint Claire, as you still spent it in each other's company. The difference was now that instead of being separated by the large oak desk, Eddie would often pull you into his lap to sit in the throne, if not making himself comfortable with you on the bed. The nights began with kisses and limbs tangled with eachother and merged into a joined slumber. Unfortunately, as happy as your days felt, it would not stop the nightmares from coming, but each time you would awake in a cold sweat or with shaking hands, he would be right there to coax you back to peace. What surprised you, however, was that you would do the same to him. 

Somehow, the thought of the notorious captain waking up screaming in the middle of the night, chest heaving, eyes wide with fear, had never occurred to you. You had never imagined him reaching for your thigh to ground himself as his reality spiralled in the dark.

‘Shh,’ you held him tightly, ‘it’s okay.’ 

Neither of you asked what the dreams were about, knowing you could do nothing about them. You could just help the other through it. And then, each time, the dreams that followed were much sweeter. 

Then you’d wake up in each other’s arms long before the rest of the world seemed to. Those few blissful moments where nothing could disturb you and the time you could spend in that bed was endless. 

Except it very much was not. And you realised it exactly through what you thought would be your escape. 

It was a sunny morning. The golden sunrays illuminated the cabin as you reached for Eddie, just to find the side of the bed to be empty. Only his impression in the covers, the faint temperature his body had radiated onto them, was still there. It could not have been long since he had gotten up, and indeed, you caught him standing at the window—leaning against it, more like. His trousers were loose on his hips, and his shirt was still on the ground around you. 

Grabbing that shirt and throwing it over your naked body, you walked over to him, and he looked in your direction as soon as he heard your footsteps. The smile in his eyes was genuine but weak. As soon as you were close enough, he pulled you into an embrace, twirling you around so your back would hit his chest and you could look out at the sea. With how the sunrays sparkled across the waves, it all felt like a dream, too good to be true, but you did not know yet that the dream was at the end of its tether.

‘I really am sorry,’ he mumbled, having his face already nuzzled in the crook of your neck, kissing the spot where it met your shoulder.

‘What for?’ Apologies had become a frequent appearance in his vocabulary, showing up in almost every conversation, if not sentence.

‘You know.’ Yes, you did know. For everything. He held a moment of silence, enjoying your presence in his arms for a little longer, before speaking again. ‘I just keep thinking about how everything between us happened, and if it had not been for me, we could have had more.’

‘I’m just as guilty.’ You had been stubborn, aggressive, and just as blind to your feelings. 

‘Highly doubtful statement.’ He laughed, and his breath tickled the hairs on your neck.

‘I don’t think so.’ You shrugged in his hold.

‘Still just as stubborn, aren’t you, princess.’ He squeezed you tighter. 

‘Is that not one of my most desirable attributes?’ You spun yourself around in his hold and quickly wrapped your arms around him. Doing so, hearing his tone and joy in his  voice, you had expected to see him smiling, but he looked just as sombre as when you had walked up to him. ‘What’s wrong?’ Your hand mindlessly began to trace over the scars on his chest, knowing it brought comfort to both you and him by now.

Eddie shook his head, holding back a laugh. ‘You know…’ he kissed your forehead,  ‘when I woke up, I saw you lying there, with the sun shining on your face, and you looked so peaceful, I had honesty considered just locking you away and keeping you forever, but I am a man of my word, am I not?’

‘I…don’t understand.’ You tried to see the meaning behind his words in his eyes, but there was nothing, and it only got harder to figure out when he held his forehead against yours, keeping you close. You still tried to make sense of what he said when you saw it. There, in the far back corner of your eye. So far, it could have been a play of light, and yet it was more real than anything. So undeniably real it crushed everything around you without question. 

From the angle the ship stood at, that was as much as you could envision through the windows, and thus you ran out of the room. As much as you did not want to leave Eddie behind, knowing it could be one of the last moments the two of you had, you ran out onto the deck to meet the silhouette of mountains against the rising sun. The longer you looked at it, the clearer the details became. The ridges of the mountains, the forests, the watch towers and houses. The uniformed ships that stood in the harbour.  

You knew this day was coming, you had been waiting for it, and yet, now that it was right there in front of you, you wished to be as far from it as possible. In what must have been shock, you took a couple of steps back just to collide with something—someone. You turned around to see Eddie and his soft but sad smile.

‘Welcome home,’ he announced.

Home, sweet home.

Your head turned between him and the land in the too-near distance, waiting for one of them to disappear, maybe even both. Why was this so difficult for your mind to comprehend? Why were the first words to come from your mouth, ‘Can we turn back?’ 

‘As much as I would want to,’ he sighed, ‘I’m sure they’ve noticed us by now.’ They must have. The watchers in those towers had the eyes of hawks, one of the reasons why your town was named after the bird.

‘So, what do we do?’ This is not how someone who is to be returning to their family after months spent with criminals was meant to respond. Everything about this was so wrong.

‘Go put your dress on.’ Eddie cocked his head back to the cabin. ‘I doubt they will appreciate you wearing this, as much as I adore it on you.’ That is when you realised you stood out on the main deck wearing only his shirt. ‘I’ll meet you in a few minutes.’ And with that, he gave you that look he had given you all those times before when you had been too headstrong in your own actions. Please, listen to me. It will be alright.

You walked back, feeling like you were floating, but not anywhere near the same way that you had the previous few days. It did not feel like you were weightless, on a cloud, free of worry or from the world. You were drifting. Far out into the abyss with nothing to hold on to. In this same state, you walked over to the wardrobe, where you had hung your dress, removed the item of clothing you had on and put on the old and tethered garment. It had once fit you like a glove, but you were far from the person it was measured for.

Just as you finished putting it on, the door opened, and Eddie walked in. 

You didn’t want to look at him. Not because of anger, you had, after all, no reason to be angry at him at that moment, but because you were sure that if you looked into those brown irises again, you would break down. He must have had the same idea as you as he walked past you, only grabbing the nearest shirt off the rack, and making a headway to the desk.

‘What are you going to do now?’ After all, that had been what pulled you two together, the money your father would offer for your return. That is what kept you on this ship safe for as long as it did… although, in retrospect, you doubted that Eddie would have ever done anything to you. Maybe he had always intended to bring you home before even speaking to you. Perhaps the money made no difference. But funnily enough, you wanted him to get it. Something in you, a deep instinct, told you that it was what he deserved.

‘Write a random note,’ he said, and you could see he was doing his best not to laugh. ‘Then we’ll send the note out, hope it reaches your dearest, and we’ll make the exchange.’ His words were quick and emotionless, but you noted the hint of novice apprehension in his plan.

‘You’ve never done this before, have you?’ you asked as you made your way up to the chair across from him.

‘Try not to sound too disappointed over my lack of experience in selling beautiful maidens back to their prosperous fathers.’

‘Not at all,’ you shook your head, grabbing the piece of parchment and quill from him. ‘But let me. It will be proof of life, and besides, your handwriting is unrecognisable. He won’t be able to read any of it.’ 

Eddie stared at you blankly as you began writing. 

Dear father, 

But what were you to write? The ink dripped off the quill as you pondered on the words. For a message that was quite clear, it was hard to actually phrase it and write it out. By the time you had signed your name at the bottom of the page, the Hellfire had almost reached the coast. You read it through once more: 

Dear Father, 

I know it has been a long time since you last heard from me. The Red Tail is no more; I was the only survivor, to my knowledge, saved by a crew of rogue sailors. They have kept me locked away but are willing to free me for the price of 5.000 pounds. Please meet me at noon at the Star Port for the exchange.

Love, 

Your daughter, 

—

You had decided against the mention of piracy or anything specific about the ship’s sinking, knowing that it would only drive your father away from pain the ransom. Eddie had been unable to keep still while you wrote your drafts but now stood behind you, hands on the backrest of your chair, reading the note along with you, over your shoulder.

‘Who would have thought, my darling extorting her own father.’

‘I am doing no such thing!’ You looked up at him, ‘I am simply… aiding you in extorting my father.’ when it came to this, you had little sympathy for your father. He had plenty of money to spare and often spent it on ridiculous causes. A faux rescue of his only daughter could surely fit in between those other purchases.

There was a knock on the door, which Eddie welcomed, and Harrington walked in. 

‘Got any mail for me to deliver, cap?’ it had been unanimously agreed that Harrington was the most inconspicuous of the whole crew and would be able to walk through the city unbothered to deliver the message. 

You had just been in the middle of folding the parchment. The last thing left was to let the wax melt to keep the corners together. With the seal done, you handed Steve the letter. He smiled at you with thanks, but his face hid an expression of loss, almost. A farewell. But before he left, you clutched him in an embrace, almost knocking Steve over.

When the door closed behind him, it was only a matter of waiting. After your fifth round of pacing through the room, Eddie walked up in front of you, blocking your already quite well-outlined route. He had met you right in the middle. 

‘I would prefer if you did not spend our last moments together walking holes into my carpet.’ 

‘You do not have a carpet,’ you quipped. 

‘Must you be so difficult now?’ He laughed that laugh you cherished so much before he placed his hands on your cheeks and kissed you the way you adored even more. The sun was almost at its peak, and so was your heart, and you had no idea what to do when it would finally fall. Either way, you would find out in a few minutes.

‘Do you think—’ 

‘Highly doubtful,’ Eddie said somberly before you could even finish your thought. ‘You had said it yourself, darling; you are you, I am me. This is not meant to work.’ But what if it could, you wanted to shout, shocking yourself for the millionth time on board this ship.

‘Well, then it had been an honour being your captive, captain.’ You said with a deep breath to keep your composure up.

‘Oh, don’t look so sad just yet, princess, the real fun is only about to begin.’ At this statement, you blinked slowly. ‘Or did you think you were done aiding me?’

‘What else do you need me to do?’ 

‘Since you mentioned it, I think we need to make you look the part of my sweet captive. Make your father believe we really had kept you all good and locked up, hmm?’ He grinned. ‘I really did not do a good job at this, did I? Got you all spoiled up here.’

‘It was much appreciated.’ You giggled, incapable of keeping a straight face when Eddie got like this. Looking back, you could barely imagine the cold and dark exterior that he had once posed in front of you since he had been an entirely different person underneath that. Then again, so were you. ‘So, what did you have in mind?’

‘A lot,’ he licked his lips, ‘but I don’t think we have the time for that. We’ll probably have to do with tying you up like a pretty gift—just your hands, of course,’ he quickly added as he saw your eyes widen. ‘And I’ll be sure to not make it too tight.

‘Alright,’ you nodded. After all, you trusted him. You watched him look through the room for something to wrap around your hands. In the end, he found a piece of rope hanging among the many items on his wall. It was a bit too long for even the intricate, but relatively weak, knot he tied over your wrists—enough to give the impression of captivity, but in reality, barely grazed your wrists. He made sure to check. 

And then it was time. You walked out of the cabin for the final time. The room in which you had spent so many tumultuous days and nights. A silly part of you wanted to actually run down the ladder into the lower deck to see the holding cell one last time. For what reason, you could not fathom. 

Eddie guided you with a hand on your back, down the gangplank, which wobbled with every step you took. You tried to keep your breathing under control, but then again, if this had been a real threat to your life, you would probably feel similarly. The walk down the harbour was the longest of your life. There just came no end to it, and you could not, frustratingly enough, make your mind up if you wanted that or not. After all, each step closer to the port was one step further away from him… and when had you become so dependent on him? Weeks ago, you had thought up visions of killing him in his sleep; now, you could not think of life without him. 

Your thoughts were still fighting for some kind of cohesion when you saw him walk down the street. Accompanied by his usual entourage of guards. Two of them carried a large trunk between them, which must have been filled with gold or other treasures to meet the demand.

‘Papa!’ You screamed out; an incautious urge to run towards him propelled you forward, just to be pulled back by Eddie. You glanced his way, and your breath hitched at what you saw. In the short amount of time that might have felt like an eternity that it took you to walk down the harbour, he had turned into what you could only describe as his old self. The same version of him that you had seen when you were “welcomed’ aboard the Hellfire. The Eddie that terrorised your nightmares. His eyes were pointed like daggers at your father. 

He, in turn, stood aback at the sight of who had been holding you. Most of the men around him did, in fact. It caused a bit of a stir, the murmur of his name travelled in disbelief, but Eddie was the first to speak up in full volume.

‘Governor. I see we meet again.’

‘Munson.’ Your father always had the skill to look unimpressed at the sight of any man, always seeming to be above them, and even now, he did a good job hiding any other emotion, but you could see the crack of fear breaking him on the edges. It was, however, quickly replaced as he spoke in his usual tone of business.

‘Munson. What are you doing here?’

‘Why, returning your precious jewel, of course.’ He grinned, pulling you closer to him. Some of the guards leapt forward but were stopped by your father and Eddie, who reached for the knife at his side. All eyes were on you and him as he let the blade slowly track over your arm. ‘Don’t wanna do that, gents. It will only cost us more trouble.’ 

‘You got the gold, Munson, now let her go!’ There were still several feet between the two sides of the deal. Eddie looked around theatrically. 

‘Do I?’ He cocked his head in his own direction. The two men in charge of the trunk hauled it over to you. You had no idea how Eddie was meant to carry it back to the ship. As they brought the gold over, your father spoke again. 

‘Is she well? Unharmed?’ 

You nodded, but Eddie nudged you with the hilt of his knife, his lips against your ear, ‘C’mon, darling, the man’s asked you a question.’

‘I am fine, father.’ You spoke. By that point, the men reached you and, with a final kiss to your temple, Eddie let you go. You were immediately pulled out of his reach by the guards. They must have thought they were holding you up as your legs objected to moving. You were unable to look away from him. All up until you felt your face pressed against your father’s jacket. 

‘There, there, it is alright,’ he hushed, and it took you a moment to realise why. You were crying. And if only he, or anyone else, understood that it was for all the opposite reasons. No fear or relief was escaping you through those tears. It was a loss as you saw Eddie standing there, bowing down at the end of his performance, blowing you a kiss goodbye.

It was the panic when you saw the rest of the people in the harbour. All of their eyes on you. On him. None of them were simple bystanders or civilians. 

Your dream had been crumbling into ruin all these days, but this was the final blow. All of it came down, all at once, and it started with your father’s call.

‘Guards!’, and suddenly the tenfold of guards appeared out of all possible directions. They had him surrounded, weapons at the ready. Eddie had nowhere to run. Your father spoke clearly, cutting the silence with the blade of his words. ‘Munson, I arrest you on charges of murder and high treason!’ 

Chapter 10

thank you so much for reading!! if you want more of where this came from, check out my masterlist.

and please support your (not so) local creators by liking AND reblogging. I would love to know what you thought of the story, so please consider leaving a comment, or maybe an ask or even an anonymous review ;P

you are also more than welcome to join the Eddie Munson taglist. right here.

@nope-thanks @seventhlevelofhell @strangerfreaks @hangmanscoming @blueberrylemontea-fanfic @vintagehellfire @raven-rust @eddiesguitarskills @taccobelle @imjusteddietrashatthispoint @lunar-corgimon

@dorianelizabeth @theletterhart @pastel-abyss-x@ghoulsgraveyard @lovesickollie @xbreezymeadowsx @meaganjm @mischiefmanagers @capybergara @brother-lauren @h0sh1verse @ghostlyreader @croweaterr @ladyapplejackdnd @bilesxbilinskixlahey @liltimmyst @hellfire-state-of-mind @escape-in-time-x @sweetpeapod @eddiemunsonbby @mydearzero @wroteclassicaly @celestialsxturn @hoe4eddiemunson @inanausomewhere @scoops-harrington @fluffyharrington

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson au #eddie munson smut #eddie munson angst #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson series #pirate!au #pirate!eddie #pirate!eddie munson #fanfiction #fanfic #fic #imagine #smut #angst #fluff

[wolfjackle-creates]

Answer My Call Chapter 2 Part 1

What's this? Two posts for WIP Wednesday??? I said I was gonna spoil you guys. Now, I originally planned to do Carry Your Heart. Figured the top and bottom choices from the WIP Wednesday poll would be fun. But both stories are at a point where Danny is taking Jason to Frostbite and I just didn't feel like writing the same scenario twice, even if the details and POV are totally different.

So I went to the third place option.

If you want a say in what I work on this week, check out the poll!

Story Summary: Jazz, Sam, and Tucker manage to help Danny escape the GIW, but they can't follow him and are under too much surveillance to communicate with each other. Sam snuck Danny a phone as he ran and Jazz sends him a text every day, hoping to hear he is all right. But he's not the one getting the texts.

Jason was away for several months on a mission with the Outlaws. When he finally returns home, he is surprised to find dozens of messages from an unknown number begging a Danny to tell her he's okay. Looks like there's not going to be a break between missions this time around.

Chapter 1: AO3 (user locked), Tumblr

Word Count: 1.5k

-----

Jazz tapped her finger on her phone as she waited for the Dunkin employee to call out her order. Red Hood was supposed to arrive any minute. She’d left her dorm a full two hours ago and led Agents K and O on a merry chase through Boston before finally losing them at Quincy Market. Then she’d doubled back and was now near Northeastern. She had no reason to be here, so hopefully it’d take a little longer to track her down.

And that’s when she felt it—a ghost or liminal was nearby.

Pushing his way in the building was a tall man with a red beanie covering dark hair. He had on an unbuttoned flannel jacket over a Dumpty Humpty T-shirt and jeans with a backpack slung over one shoulder. He glanced around before his eyes settled on her and he grinned.

“Hey, Jazz, right?” He held out his hand. “I’m Todd.”

Jazz couldn’t say anything and just stared in horror. Red Hood couldn’t be liminal. Had she just led another liminal to the guys in white? Did he even realize he was considered an ecto-entity under the anti-ecto acts she’d introduced him and Red Robin to?

“Jazz? Are you okay?” he asked, dropping his hand.

“Order for Jazz!” called out the barista.

Jazz shook herself and grabbed her drink with a smile for the employee. Then she grabbed Todd’s elbow and dragged him over to the tables.

“Sorry, I just wasn’t expecting—” she cut herself off. She had no idea what he knew and what he didn’t. And the agents could come get them at any moment. Instead she pulled out her phone started turning off every security setting. “Never mind. Do you want anything?” she asked with a gesture at her own drink.

“I’m all right. But, are you? What happened?”

Jazz let out a laugh; if the way Todd’s eyes widened was any indication, it was a tad more hysterical that she would’ve liked. “Nothing. Absolutely nothing happened.” She looked down at his shirt. “My brother loves Dumpty Humpty, you a music fan?”

He seemed nonplussed at the topic change but shrugged. “Sure. Music is good, but I stole this shirt from one of my brothers. I don’t know if I could name a single song by them. How about you?”

Jazz grinned and forced herself to relax as she logged out of her school email on her phone. “I’m a huge fan of any sort of self-expression, including music. Actually, my plans for tonight involve music, so I hope you like the indie scene. Might be a bit intense for a first date, but I’ve always figured, why not jump right in? Show ‘em the crazy from the start and see if they can keep up.” She leaned forward over the table and winked at him. “Think you’ll be able to keep up?”

Todd played the game perfectly and looked her up and down like they really were about to start a first date. “With you, sweetheart, I’ll follow anywhere you lead.”

Jazz laughed and stood. “Come on, then. We’re going on an adventure.”

Todd grinned and joined her. “Lead the way.”

Once out of the building, Jazz led them away from the university. This being Boston, it wasn’t long before they came across a homeless man begging on the side of the street.

Wincing internally, she gripped Todd’s arm and said loudly, “Honestly, I don’t know why the cops don’t do a better job of keeping away the beggars.”

Todd looked at her in surprise. “What are you talking about? They have a right to exist and we should help them.”

“They’re probably fine. Everyone knows they only use the money they’re given on drugs and alcohol.” She pretended to glance at her phone before reaching back to shove it in her back pocket. Only to miss so it fell to the ground. “Ew, he’s looking at us. Come on, let’s cross the street.”

She could feel the way Todd tensed at her words, but he let himself be led across the street.

As soon as they were out of hearing shot, he turned to her and hissed, “What the hell was that?”

Jazz glanced back and saw the man picking up her phone. She looked away before he could catch her looking. “Come on, I’ll explain.” She grabbed Todd’s hand and led him down an alley to a much busier street. “I had to ditch my phone. I logged out of everything and left it unlocked so he can use it or resell it. I needed to make sure he wouldn’t try to return it to me and, well, what better way than being the worst person you can imagine?”

And now he was staring, open mouthed.

“They’ve had remote access to my phone for months and I couldn’t let them track us!” she insisted. Habit had her looking around for any sign of a white suit.

“Who can’t find us?”

Jazz shook her head. “The guys in white. Look, this is too public. I can’t say much else here. But meeting you, everything had to change. You’re in danger just by being near me and I refuse to be the reason you get hurt.”

“Why am I in danger?”

“Later!” Jazz hissed before wincing and looking around. She forced a smile back on her face and asked, in as normal a tone as she could manage, “What time is it? Do you know?”

He looked down at his phone. “Uh, looks like it’s almost five.”

“Oh great! Plenty of time for us to get something to eat before I bring you to our surprise destination.”

And from there, Jazz led Todd on a convoluted tour of Boston. They grabbed food at the Pru, then she took him to the green line. Where they traveled four stops before she jumped up in feigned surprise that they were on the wrong branch. So then they got off and hopped on the train going in the opposite direction.

Which was where she wanted to be going all along.

For once, she was happy the orange line was still under construction, because the shuffle of passengers from trains to buses and back just made their journey that much more complicated and harder to follow.

By the time they finally got to their stop, the sun had mostly set. The station was mostly empty and Jazz looked around for any sign of white suits or vans, but even when she didn't see any, she couldn't relax.

“Where are we going?” Todd asked for probably the dozenth time.

Jazz rolled her eyes. “We’ll be there in five minutes and then you’ll find out.”

She led him to the street, the crosswalk had lights over it, but the rest of the road was shrouded in darkness. They ran across without waiting for the walk symbol.

Once they crossed what was basically a divided highway, Jazz led them along the poorly lit and cracked sidewalk. Ahead of them they were approaching a river.

“It’s before the river,” muttered Jazz to herself. “Is this it?” She hesitated at the top of a sloping, unpaved drive that led to an industrial building that sat on the waterfront. “I think so. Apparently this building used to be a coffin factory. Cool, huh?”

“I don’t care for coffins,” was Todd’s terse reply.

Jazz flinched slightly. She knew he was death-adjacent. Should’ve known better than to mention coffins. “Right, sorry. Well, they aren’t made here anymore.” She made her way down the steep drive, Todd a step behind her.

“What is it now?”

“Apartments, I believe.”

Once at the bottom, she looked around and saw the old loading dock. Entering, she looked for the door on the left.

Only to hesitate once more. Two doors were on the left. She hadn’t heard anything about there being two doors. Taking a chance, she opened the first one.

Inside was a table where two women sat in front of a metal box. On the wall were a set of pegs already mostly filled with coats. And inside milled probably thirty or forty people.

The women smiled at Jazz. “Hi, have you two been here before?”

Jazz shook her head and pulled two twenties out of her wallet. “No. But I had a classmate come here and tell me about it. When I realized you had something going on tonight when I had a date? Figured it was a great place to come with my partner!”

She laughed. “We’re definitely unique here at the Night Cap.” She stamped their hands. “Show starts in half an hour, but feel free to mingle until then. Bathroom’s through the kitchen.”

“Thanks! We’re looking forward to tonight.”

Todd nodded his own thanks and followed Jazz into the room.

“What are we doing here?” he whispered in her ear.

“Hiding,” she whispered back. “I’ve never been here before. Never even taken this stop on the T before. When we leave here, we’ll get a motel room or something and I’ll tell you everything.”

“Is this necessary?”

“Without a doubt.”

Jazz could tell Todd didn’t fully believe her, but he dropped it. Jazz found a few people who were discussing that evening’s performers and the two of them joined the conversation.

-----

Part 2

I no longer do tag lists, but please check out the Subscription Post if you want notifications when I update.

So, I had a lot of fun with this section. The place Jazz takes Jason to? Real place. Though Night Cap isn't what the residents call it. Honestly, the real name is also impossible to google. If you don't know it exists, you would never find it (why Jazz runs from the GIW there). Out of respect for the residents of the apartment, though, I changed the name. I went to a show there and it was super weird trying to find it. Like, the directions in my email seriously said "enter the loading dock of the former coffin factory, find the door on the left, and slip the person standing there $10-20 cash. Don't touch anyone's personal belongings, please."

As we waited for the bathroom during set break, two of the residents were cooking dinner at the stove and we were chatting about how Regan was the worst.

10/10 would go again.

Anyone who has spent any time in Boston knows what I mean about the T being under construction. Annoying as hell, but it worked out for Jazz this time.

(The T is the name of the Boston train/subway system.)

The Pru refers to the Prudential building. The bottom level(s) are full of restaurants and shops (basically a high end shopping mall) and upper levels are offices. The top level is an observation deck that's open to the public, though I've never been.

#dpxdc #jaosn todd #jazz fenton #eventual anger management ship #i may have flexed my boston knowledge #this chapter is totally self indulgent #but the plot is about to ramp up #just need to get jazz confident they'll have privacy #and she has good reason to be paranoid #jason is just along for the ride

[lavendercharm]

Linger, Chapter 5: Kiss With A Fist/Human Nature

A/N:

Ya'll. Writing this chapter felt like a marathon. But I think I'm ultimately very happy with it. Please let me know what you think!

This chapter is a bit longer, and I think it deserved to be named after two songs because of that. "Kiss With A Fist" by Florence + The Machine definitely fits the first half of this chapter and was one of the first songs I added to my playlist when writing this story, so I knew I wanted to use it for the big public confrontation.

The vibes toward the end are different. I discovered this song earlier this week and haven't been able to stop listening to it, so maybe I'm just reaching to try and justify including it lol. But "Human Nature" by Barrie is what I decided to use for the second half of this. Cause they're spitting facts when they say "Human nature doesn't always come easy" lmfao.

This is far from the end of this story, but it may be a second before you hear from me, depending on how busy the next few weeks are. I say that - watch me turn around and post something this weekend lol.

Thank you to everyone who's stuck with me thus far. I love you and I'm so grateful to know you're along for the ride.

---

Summary: From the moment you meet her, you can't stand Melissa Schemmenti.

Warnings: Strong Language

---

Barbara Howard did not take days off. It was only recently that she allowed herself her first mental health day, and while she could see the benefits, she had been eager to get back to her classroom, her students, her best friend, and even her coworkers. The life of a teacher was unpredictable, and the life of a teacher at Abbott Elementary came with its own unique set of challenges, but Barbara had seen a lot in her decades of teaching. With some hard work, support from her fellow teachers, and the grace of God himself, she had seen and survived it all. Barbara Howard could conquer anything thrown her way.

However, if Barbara had the magical gift of foresight, she might have chosen Monday morning to take her second mental health day in her entire history at Abbott. 

As it was, Barbara could not see into the future, and so she entered the teacher’s lounge at 6:30 AM, on the dot. She claimed her usual spot, made herself a cup of coffee, and began sorting through her lesson plans for the week. She enjoyed her few moments of serenity in the lounge prior to the arrival of her more talkative coworkers. It wasn’t unusual for Melissa to arrive a bit later, especially on a Monday, so Barbara thought nothing of her absence. She politely greeted Janine and Jacob as they entered together; she did the same for Gregory shortly after. As the three younger teachers gathered at their table and discussed their weekends, Barbara continued her work, occasionally reacting to what she overheard. And when you entered the lounge, your first time visiting in the morning, Barbara was mildly surprised, but she shot you a warm smile all the same. She noticed you seemed to be a bit tense, but she chalked it up to the fact that you were still very new. 

Melissa had talked her ear off about you last Monday, of course, explaining your tardiness and the shots you’d taken at her about her age. When Barb pressed her for details about your confrontation and what you’d said to each other, she simply said, “I took care of business, a’right?” 

While Barbara agreed it was unprofessional of you to arrive late, she also knew Melissa better than anyone else in Abbott did; she knew Melissa could take things too far. Melissa was as passionate as they came, which meant she was one of the best teachers at the school. On the flip side, she also had a short fuse. Barbara knew she didn’t have all of the details, but she didn’t think much of it - you were a sub, after all. She expected she’d never actually meet you. 

So when you arrived in the lounge for lunch the day after your explosive argument, she was shocked. While skeptical of you, she couldn’t help but admire your tenacity. You’d come face to face with the wrath of Melissa Schemmenti and still returned to Abbott. You’d introduced yourself, and as far as Barbara could tell, you were perfectly polite and well mannered. The displeasure and hostility radiating off of Melissa was felt by everyone in the lounge, but aside from giving her close friend a pointed look, Barbara chose to ignore it. 

You’d continued showing up the rest of the week, greeting Barbara every day before taking a seat with Janine and Jacob, as well as Gregory, occasionally. The younger teachers seemed to have taken an instant liking to you, the four of you sharing stories from previous schools or discussing the latest movie releases. You’d even had a good-natured exchange with Ava one morning. The principal had leant against the corner with her phone and talked you through her “roster”, whatever that meant. Barbara was sure she didn’t want to know. 

Barbara observed how seamlessly you integrated into Abbott’s social circles - with the obvious exception of the red head who always sat to her right in the lounge. Melissa pretended you didn't exist, which would have been fine if it wasn’t the elephant in the room. Your first day in the lounge, Janine had tried to talk to Melissa about you. She’d turned to Melissa with a huge grin on her face and said, “Man, Melissa, you’re so lucky to have such an awesome sub as your aide.” 

Melissa had glanced at Janine over the rim of her cat-eye glasses, and in a sharp tone, retorted, “What sub?” That’s all it took for everyone in the room to grasp her unspoken message: If you value your life, drop it. The only reaction Barbara saw was a sharp flash of your eyes before you turned your back to the older woman and called Janine over, changing the subject. 

But last Friday, Melissa caught up with Barbara after the school day ended and explained that you’d just given her two VIP tickets to the Eagles game on Sunday. If there was anything that would help Melissa forgive your transgressions, it was that. Once again, Barbara found herself impressed with you - you took the initiative to make amends and you’d knocked it out of the park. She was happy for her friend. She’d told Melissa, “Just think of how much you’ll be able to accomplish now that you and that young woman can work together. Now, you and Gary go enjoy that ball game.” 

A week after your first morning at Abbott, all of the water was seemingly under the bridge, and the staff room could breathe easy again. No one paid much mind to the anxiety radiating off of you. For the most part, the energy in the room was calming as the day began. 

The sudden CRACK of the door slamming into the shelves violently ripped the room’s occupants out of their morning zen. It was enough to cause everyone to nearly jump out of their skin. Heads whipped in the direction of the doorway as Melissa’s furious form charged into the lounge. Her attention was initially on Barb, but as she opened her mouth to speak, her eyes locked on you. The blush of fury rose instantly in her cheeks. She ripped her bag off of her shoulder and tossed it in the direction of her regular table, nearly hitting Barbara in the process, and as her eyes narrowed, you could practically see the steam rolling off of her as she hissed out, “You.” 

And that’s when Barbara knew any chance of a peaceful morning had gone out the window.

—----------------------

As your weekend began, it didn’t take long for it to sink in that you were well and truly fucked. You completely failed to consider the consequences of your little scheme. There’s no way in hell Melissa wouldn’t be out for blood at the start of the next school week. The smartest thing to do would be to never return to Abbott, move to a new city across the country, and change your legal name. You went back and forth between chastising yourself for being ridiculous, and being so ridden with anxiety that you couldn’t eat. You felt so stupid - what did you think would happen? 

Ultimately, you reached a point where you couldn’t handle the crushing weight of what you’d done alone, so you’d spilled to Ava. Her response had been about the least reassuring thing she could have said.

You did WHAT? I didn’t know you were crazy like that! You’re gonna die girl. I’m not even joking. We gotta go out this weekend, cause it’s your last one alive. I’ll make sure you have fun tho. Do you own any latex?

After refusing Ava’s offers to make your last days on earth worthwhile, you spent most of the weekend drowning in anxiety and imagining how Melissa would bring about your demise. You decided you had to do your best to prepare. You literally couldn’t afford to not go back to Abbott, especially after getting your headlights repaired Saturday afternoon. Under the anxiety, you could feel the ember of your rage, still pulsing with a red-hot glow, so you decided to grasp ahold of it. What you’d done was shitty, sure. But compared to smashing headlights? All you’d done was get even.

Seeing as you couldn’t afford to uproot your whole life and leave Philadelphia, the next most logical thing to do was to never be caught alone in a room with Melissa ever again. You were pretty sure this was something you could pull off - you figured you had two weeks left at Abbott tops, and as long as you had kids or other teachers in the same room, you would have witnesses who could recount your violent death should Melissa murder you. 

This is what caused you to arrive at Abbott on Monday morning a full hour and a half before you needed to be there. You’d dithered in your car for about fifteen minutes, debating driving away and then talking yourself out of it. Eventually, you braved the outdoors, darting into the building and down the hallways as quickly as you could. You practically sprinted past Melissa’s classroom door - the lights were out, but even though you logically knew she wasn’t in yet, your mind conjured a vivid image of her jumping out of the shadows like a monster in waiting. You slowed down and tried to control your breathing as you entered the teacher’s lounge, and you were immediately soothed to see how many people were already there. Even better, Melissa was absent. 

As you passed Barbara, you gave her a hesitant smile. You actually liked Barbara, as much as you can like someone who’s polite and whom you don’t know very well. You figured it may be the last chance you get - surely the woman would turn against you once Melissa told her what you’d done. Janine, Jacob, and Gregory were all sitting at your usual table, and after preparing your morning coffee, you quickly situated yourself in a seat, thankfully facing the door to the lounge.

“Hey!” Janine said, shooting you her adorable, slightly gapped-toothed smile. “How was your weekend?”

“Oh, uh… it was fine,” you said, your eyes darting toward the door as it opened. Not Melissa . “Mostly caught up on chores… had to get some work done to my car, fun stuff like that.”

“Car problems are tough,” Gregory said, spooning a bite out of his bowl of plain oatmeal. “What was wrong with it?”

“Uh…” you hesitated, unsure if you wanted to share what was really wrong. It would inevitably lead to questions and the last thing you wanted was for everyone to know the details of your feud. It was one thing for everyone to know Melissa didn’t like you - there were very few people Melissa actually liked in general. But it was another entirely for them to know she’d smashed out your headlights. Something generic - a bad alternator, maybe - would suffice.

You didn’t even get the chance to lie.

Despite the fact that you could see the doorway, the resounding SMACK of the door slamming open still made you jump. Before your brain knew what it was processing, in stormed Melissa Schemmenti, thick heels clacking on the linoleum tiles. She wore a form fitting pink sweater, the neckline questionably appropriate, and skin tight black pants. Her saint necklaces shimmered from their home on her collarbones. You supposed she wanted to look hot when she killed you.

It only took a moment for her eyes to lock on you, and in that moment you knew things were about to get ugly. To your surprise, seeing the flustered state she was in created a feeling of immense satisfaction. She was furious because your plan had worked. You didn’t even fight the smile that began to find its way onto your lips. The anxiety wasn’t gone, but you relished in the triumphant feeling of landing a critical hit. 

“ You,” she hisses, tossing her bag from her shoulder. The tension in the air was thick enough to be cut with a knife. 

Your eyebrows shoot up, feigned ignorance in your voice as you point at yourself and respond, “Who, me?”

She starts toward you, and everyone else at your table scatters. You’re shocked to see Janine step in front of you, her hands up placatingly. “Melissa-”

“Shut it, pipsqueak, and get out of my way ,” she growls, her gaze over Janine’s head burning holes in you. 

“Hey!” You spit out, anger spiking and crowding out your anxiety. You’re suddenly standing. “Don’t call her that!”

Janine turns to you, holding a hand in your direction now too. “It’s fine, she calls me that all the time-” 

“It’s not fine!” You shout, fists balled. Your eyes are glued to Melissa’s. “You think you can say and do whatever you want because no one will stand up to you. Well, I’m not going to put up with it!” 

“Oh my god, please stop this. I will never psychologically recover from seeing your dead body,” Jacob pleads, wedged between the corner of the room and the fridge for cover. 

“Can’t believe I was dumb enough to trust ya,” Melissa growls. “And after all that bullshit about ‘olive branches' and bein’ cordial.”

You smirk. “Oh, right! How was the game?”

Melissa starts forward again and Janine has to physically hold her back. She’s shockingly effective in spite of her small stature. 

“Ya know I didn’t get into the game! Gary and I went all the way to the stadium, but you gave me fake tickets! We wasted our whole afternoon and got harassed by security!” she shouts. 

“So what are you gonna do about it? Beat me up? Call the cops on me?” you challenge.

A deeply offended look crosses Melissa’s face as her jaw drops. “Are you callin’ me a snitch?” she snarls. She surges against Janine one more time, who manages to keep her back again. “That’s low, even for you!” Melissa says nastily over Janine’s shoulder.

“Oh, that’s low?” You ask incredulously. “Low like smashing someone’s headlights out?” There’s an audible gasp from Jacob in the corner, and you feel the heat of everyone’s gaze turn from you to Melissa, the whole room enthralled by your verbal tennis match. 

Melissa glances around her before pointing an accusatory finger at you. “Ya can’t prove that was me!” You thought someone would have to have been born yesterday to believe that; anyone who worked at Abbott knew that’s exactly something Melissa would do. 

“Oh yeah, because everyone else here keeps a bat taped under their desk like a neurotic asshole!” you proclaim, throwing your hands up in the air. 

“I’ll show you ya stronza- ” Melissa hisses, pushing past Janine and beginning to reach for you. Your arms come up to instinctively protect your face, but before she can reach you, a figure closer to your height blocks your vision.

“THAT IS ENOUGH!” Barbara Howard bellows. The whole room comes to a standstill, frozen in time. Even Melissa has been stopped in her tracks, her eyes wide in shock as Barbara looks accusingly between the two of you. You feel immediately ashamed. “Are you both not grown adults? I cannot believe the absolute foolishness I’ve just witnessed!” She rounds on Melissa. “Especially from you!” 

“Barb, she-” Melissa starts. 

“I don’t care if she insulted your cooking to your face, you do not behave like catty teenagers! We are professional, grown people! Acting like this in front of your peers? Disgraceful! ”

She rounds on you, her eyes narrowing. “And you. To think that I was beginning to think highly of you. You went to all that trouble to make fake football tickets, just to get back at Melissa? Have you ever heard the phrase ‘An eye for an eye’ ?” 

The pit of shame in your stomach is sickening as you slowly lower your arms, your eyes unable to meet Barbara’s. Feeling like a petulant child, you couldn’t help but mutter, “She started it.”

“And now I’m ending it!” Barbara yells. You feel her grip the sleeve of your sweater and pull. You stumble after, seeing her grasp Melissa as well. “You are both coming with me!” The rest of the lounge doesn’t move a muscle as Barbara Howard physically drags you into the hallway. 

She marches with both of you in tow, Melissa sending you the nastiest glares she can muster from the other side of her friend. Stopping in front of a classroom full of bright colors and tiny chairs, Barbara turns to both of you. “This has gotten completely out of hand! You are both going to sit in my room and we are going to work through this. I don’t care if it takes all day - you will NOT be allowed out until you can act like civilized adults!” She folds her arms and gestures her head forward. You stare back for a moment, thinking she must be joking, but the woman doesn’t budge. After a moment longer, you enter the classroom. You’re followed closely by Melissa, who stalks to the other end of the room. 

Barbara closes her door and pulls down the window blind. She turns to you both, her eyes closed and her shoulders rising in deep, even breaths. Eventually, she opens her eyes, and commands, “Take a seat.”

You glance around and only see chairs for children. You begin to protest, but the look on Barbara’s face prompts you to simply grab the nearest chair and plant yourself in it. Your knees are comically close to your chest and you don’t know where to put your hands. You settle on resting them on top of your knees. Melissa is pacing back and forth, muttering to herself - you guess she gets to ignore Barbara’s request. 

“Now,” Barbara begins. “We are going to talk out your problems so we can put this whole mess behind us. Your students deserve you at your best, and you cannot be your best when you’re at each other’s throats!” She’s stern, chastising, and you feel ridiculous. “Where did all of this animosity start? Why are you angry with Melissa?”

You can’t help but scoff because the answer should be obvious. Barbara presses her lips together in annoyance and you quickly reply, “Well, where do I begin? Aside from smashing my headlights out, she’s done nothing but disrespect me since I stepped foot in her room. She was insulting me before she even learned my name!”

“I never learned your name,” she pipes up spitefully, and you whip your head around to glare at her. 

“Memory not as good as it used to be?” you retort. A muscle in her jaw jumps out as she clenches her jaw, her face coloring once more. 

Before she has a chance to rip into you again, Barbara cuts you both off with a stern, “Knock it off!” She looks exasperatedly between the two of you before pinching the bridge of her nose. “The Lord is testing me today,” she whispers to herself, shaking her head. She turns her attention to the fiery woman across the room. “Melissa?” 

Melissa comes to a stop, planting herself and leaning her weight onto one hip. She rolls her eyes, gesticulating wildly as she speaks. “If we’re goin’ back to the start, then first things first, she strolled into my class thirty minutes late. Didn’t even have the decency to apologize.” 

“You didn’t give me a chance to!” you protest. “I hadn't even stepped into the room before you were criticizing me. It’s not like I did it on purpose, it was a complete and total accident. And then you started insulting how young and inexperienced I look.” 

“I was just givin’ you a hard time, that’s all,” she says indignantly. “How was I suppose ta know you can’t take a joke?”

Your head whips toward her. “And smashing my headlights? Was that a joke?” you retort incredulously. 

Her eyes narrow and her tone is venomous as she hisses, “Nah, that was for throwin’ away my school supplies, stealin’ lunches, and callin’ me a bitch.” 

You hear Barbara’s sharp inhale and jump to defend yourself. “Those supplies were all broken or unusable! You have so much on your hands with two classes and I was just trying to help you. Also, Janine gave me that lasagna because I forgot my lunch, I didn’t steal anything. You wouldn’t give me a chance to explain myself before jumping down my throat. Not to mention calling me degrading names in Italian!” 

Barbara raises an eyebrow and gives Melissa a knowing glance. “Melissa uses gabbortz quite often, it’s nothing to get offended over,” she says, an attempt to reassure you.

Melissa’s eyes dart to Barbara’s as she huffs, “Uh, it’s gabbadost , Barb. And I mighta used somethin’ more… vulgar.” To your disbelief, the red head practically looks sheepish at this admission. Her arms cross in front of her as she shifts her weight, and your eyes are drawn to how the motion causes her cleavage to swell ever so slightly. Feeling heat flood your cheeks, you dart your eyes all over the room, attempting to find something else to fix them on. Luckily, neither woman seems to notice. Barbara’s eyebrows are furrowed in an inquisitive way that suggests she’s waiting for the shorter woman to elaborate. Melissa lets out a puff of air. “I mighta used the ‘P’ word, a’right?” 

Barbara’s eyes widen as her mouth drops open in a gasp. “The ‘P’ word? Melissa Schemmenti, you don’t mean-”

“Yeah, yeah, the one I save exclusively for Kristin Marie. That ‘P’ word.” You don’t know who Kristin Marie is, but Barbara looks positively scandalized.

Tearing her eyes away from Melissa, Barbara stands and turns away from both of you, hands on her hips and head shaking in disapproval. As she takes her turn pacing across the room, the disappointed silence from the older woman allows the weight of the last week to settle on you, and you find yourself suddenly exhausted. You lean forward, your head in your hands and the shame rising inside of you like a tidal wave. How did you get here? 

“Well, I think you both have been sufficiently horrible to each other,” Barbara says, turning toward you. “Now explain how this has all made you feel.” 

You and Melissa groan in unison. “Come on, Barb,” Melissa starts, but Barbara holds up a single admonishing finger to silence her. The Italian woman becomes subdued immediately, and you notice how different Melissa’s reaction is to being silenced by Barbara.

“How has this made you feel?” the older woman presses, her tone of voice a warning to comply. Melissa leans against the wall, refusing to budge. You all sit in tense silence for what feels like an eternity, and you wish the floor would swallow you up. She was using the same tactics on you that you might use on two fighting eight year olds.

Eventually, you can’t handle the tension any longer and you burst out, “I feel totally disrespected!” You look to Barbara and she gestures for you to continue. “I uh… I feel belittled, and like you don’t take me seriously, but I think the worst part is I never got the chance to prove to you that I belong here… you wrote me off before you even met me. I’ve worked hard, and I love what I do, so to have you disregard me right off the bat, just because I made a mistake and I look young… it felt pretty shitty,” you admit, the confession coming out of you in one long rush. 

“Especially because… I was excited to work with you,” you add quietly. You’re suddenly enamored with the floor, unable to bring yourself to look either woman in the eye. You feel exposed and vulnerable, and you’re majorly uncomfortable with it. 

You’re forced to endure your feelings of discomfort for a few more torturous minutes. Suddenly, your eyes widen in shock as a husky voice meets your ears, and it takes a moment for your brain to process the words. 

“I guess I feel a lot of the same,” Melissa admits. You raise your gaze to meet hers, and she’s staring at you intently, the earnestness reflected in her jewel-green eyes making your heart skip a beat. “Felt like you didn’t really care when you were late. Some a’ these kids? They got plenty of adults outside of these walls that don’t really care. That’s the last thing they need here. And then ya walked in and you look so young… I couldn't resist teasin' ya. But then you got me back and I got defensive, and I shouldnt’a.” She shifts her weight, casting her eyes to the floor. “I bought all those supplies with my own money,” she admits. “So seein’ you throwin’ em away, it really rubbed me the wrong way. But… you were right. I was tryin’ to stretch em when there was no more room to stretch. And then seein’ my lasagna on your desk… I know I can be a real hot head, and I took it out on ya and it wasn’t fair.” 

As you look at Melissa, her red hair shining under the fluorescents and her evident unease at her own candor, there’s a swelling feeling in your chest and a warmth slowly spreading in your limbs. “Melissa,” you say, and her head snaps up to meet you. You search her eyes, waiting for her to snap at you for using her first name. She doesn’t. She simply waits, holding your gaze, and you can’t quite read what’s behind her eyes, but you suspect it’s something far softer than she’s shown you before. 

You allow yourself to swim in those emerald pools for just a second longer before you admit, tenderly, “I’m sorry.” You see her shoulders drop ever so slightly, tension releasing as she allows your words to sink in. “I’m sorry for what I’ve said about your age. I’m sorry for throwing your things away without asking. And I’m really sorry about the Eagles tickets. That definitely wasn’t my finest moment.” You say the last bit with a touch of humor. You pause for a moment, before adding, “I’m not going to apologize for the lasagna, though. Janine insisted on giving it to me, and it was one of the most incredible things I’ve ever tasted.” 

You see her eyes widen, her brows raising in surprise. A genuine satisfied smile graces her lips, and you can’t help but momentarily wish things had been different over the last week so you could have seen more of those. That smile made her entire demeanor change. 

“Well,” she says, eyes flashing with her own humor. She shoots you a sly grin, and you return a small smile of your own. “If I’m bein’ real with ya, I’m impressed. Fake tickets? Pretty diabolical,” she continues, admiration in her voice. Her smile fades, though, and she brings her hand up, pressing a knuckle to her lips briefly in thought. She sighs, murmuring, “I’m sorry too. I shoulda given you a chance before jumpin’ to conclusions. And, uh… I’ll pay for ya to get your headlights fixed.” She mutters that last part, and you notice that she didn’t apologize for smashing them - but you know it’s as close as she’ll come, because you’re not sure she entirely regrets it. You’ll take what you can get.

“Thank you,” you murmur, and once again you suddenly can’t look at her anymore. Luckily, Barbara draws your focus to her as she clears her throat. You both look toward the older teacher as she stares down at you, a smug, triumphant smile dancing across her full lips. 

“Now, was that so hard?” She asks, her voice teasing both of you. For the first time in days, you feel like you can breathe fully again. Melissa rolls her eyes, pulling herself away from the wall, but you detect a hint of relief radiating off of the woman as well. 

“Don’t expect us to hold hands or nothin’ Barb,” she says as she heads for the door. When she reaches it, she pauses and turns to you. She considers you for a moment, and you begin to feel warm underneath her gaze. Finally, she says, “Well, ya comin’? We got lessons to plan for the day. How do ya feel about teaching Science?” Her tone is gruff, commanding, no nonsense. The carefully curated tough exterior of Melissa Schemmenti is back in place. But you’ve seen the slightest glimpse of the human being underneath.

“Right behind you,” you reply, and a tentative grin breaks out across your face as you stand and begin to follow the short woman. You pause briefly though, a thought entering your mind, and you turn to Barabra. Your hands grasp each other behind your back as you rock forward onto the balls of your feet, and you convey your gratitude by giving the older woman the warmest smile you can muster and uttering, “Thank you, Barbara.”

She returns your smile, her own radiant and warm, and you can’t help but feel like you’ve been blessed a bit. “My pleasure, dear. Go on, I’ll see you at lunch.” You nod in agreement, and turn on your heel, following after your lead teacher. You’re not friends - seeing as your time is limited at Abbott, you don’t imagine you ever will be. But you feel lighter, and there’s a newfound respect for the short woman. And for the first time since you stepped foot inside Abbott Elementary, you feel excited for the day before you.

-------

A/N:

Yes, I'm sorry, Gary will be briefly mentioned/perhaps even making small appearances. Stay strong lol. Controversial opinion but I don't hate Gary. Did I think he was good enough for Melissa? HELL NO. Do I think he should have respected her wishes and listened to her when she explained her boundaries? HELL YES. But ultimately he was just a big dumb guy who was infatuated with Melissa Schemmenti, and to that, I relate. Still, I wasn't mad about that split.

Fun fact - if you've watched season 3 episode 4 already, I wrote the Ava roster line before that episode aired. I died laughing when the kids were talking to Gregory about his roster. We don't need to talk about the firefighter exchange... denial is my favorite state.

#melissa schemmenti x you #melissa schemmenti x reader #melissa schemmenti #Spotify

[spectra-bear]

To all the fma fans here who have been following me for a while now, I'd like to bring a few chapters to light in consideration to the recent tragic palestinian apartheid

FMA has made sure to speak out about these reoccuring events, and whoever hasn't noticed from reading yet needs a critical thinking class.

Let's start with chapter 90:

Chapter 90 of the series, although censored heavily in the anime (but we'll get to that later), played a HUGE role in establishing what kind of message arakawa was building up to deliver to her audience as a plot B (ishvalan genocide) sided with plot A (the search of the philosopher stones, eventually turned plot A (overthrowing the military), a message meant to awaken her readers to the truth, and one that serves as a warning

Does this not all ring familiarity?

One of the reasons arakawa wrote this story was to bring this side of history into light,

the oppression, the abuse of military power, the imbalanace in arms between two parties at "war", the perfect guise of "protecting the people from radicalized terrorists", and using it to justify the murder of countless lives, committing war crime after war crime, massacring the land and lathering it with the spilled blood of countless innocents and people fighting back for their freedom, for their home. Those that die have their lives tragically cut short, too soon.

A total extermination

And to those that remain alive,

Forcefully immigrated from their own homeland

Or exploited for their bodies, harvested for their organs, abused, tortured and humiliated

Not only that, but the emphasis on making the reason behind starting the war in the first place, being the first bullet shot at a young child by a soldier, and intentionally making it seem "trivial" for the ishvalans to retaliate because of that, and painting them as animalistic

Writing off roy mustang and maes hughes as heroes for doing whats best for their country, glorifying their relationship as war buddies, and believing theyre in the right for putting down the people of the holy land, when they couldve backed down from contributing to this one-sided war,

and when they do step back from the field, theyre labelled as cowards. When they inevitably realize the abnormality and inhumanity of their actions, that theyve been solely used as tools and weapons of destruction, that impact is softened with rewards, of medals and cheers of accomplishment from the population-wide brainwashed by lies spread by the people in power, and if theyre lucky, accomodations for the negative mental effects of being part of a war

(arakawa interview source)

What do I conclude from this?

That the author of your favorite manga does not support genocide and in fact, condemns those who partake in it

If it isnt obvious, She included these stories because they have happened before

She is telling these stories, while not 100% protrayed correctly, to fill the empty gaps in the western perspective that have been contaminated with propaganda and demonization of these indigenous people

The designs of ishvalans and cultural clothing are intentionally influenced by japanese ethnic groups, middle eastern and south asian cultures, and the military intentionally european/western looking as an example for their expansion and dominance in mind

And now we are watching all this happen in reality, again, witnessed live, in much worse conditions, throughout history

Where the heroes arent kids who can sway elements at their command with the flick of a hand, but the people who stand against it in mass, marching in the streets to break the suffocating silence, and spread the voices of those seeking help and demanding their freedom back

Does everyone realize how fucked up that is? That the lines drawn between fantasy and reality blur so much that they become indistinguishable from each other? That is true horror, when the monsters and tyrants in your stories no longer stay on ink and paper, but are on your screens broadcasting their crimes, beyond humanity

You must understand that if these stories are included for you, the reader, they are not written just for the plot, but to bring awareness to you, and avoid history from repeating itself, and work against committing the same irredeemable mistakes as before

(thanks to @borkthemork for the help in outlining this and proofreading)

#i am not using the pal3stine tag so i dont drown out any sources published on that tag #and while this story may need to be reworked in some aspects it has already done alot in bringing this message into light #analysis #fma #fullmetal alchemist #bear screams in cave #cw blood #this serves as a reminder to what the is the message nuanced in this manga #cw violence

[yoonia]

the bedroom hymns ● chapter xiii

⟶ Chapter summary | Once again, the magic portal have granted your wish to a broader adventure, allowing you not to only see the magic realm with your own eyes but also learn more about it. And you have found someone who is willing to guide you through it.

⟶ Title | The Bedroom Hymns: a Bluebeard’s twist ⟶ Pairings | Min Yoongi x female reader  ⟶ Genre | Fairy Prince!Yoongi, Crown Princess!reader, Fantasy AU, Fairy Tale retelling ⟶ Word count | 5,2k words ⟶ Ratings | PG-13, +18 / M for Mature for future chapters; include some form of classism, black magic, alcohol consumption ⟶ Story Masterlist: The Bedroom Hymns | ⤎ previous chapter | next chapter ⇢ ⟶ Main Masterlist | Mailbox | Taglist | Feedback | Music Playlist | Ko-fi ⟶ Author’s note | This took a bit longer to finish, and since it got a bit too long, I decided to split this part into two separate chapters. As mentioned in the previous chapter, the setting in this story may be included in the other stories that are also parts of the Once Upon A Fantasy collab. There won’t be any spoilers and you won’t have to read the other stories before getting into this to enjoy it. Have fun reading!

chapter xiii. red strings-1

You never realised it then, or perhaps you simply have forgotten, but your hand seems much smaller in size compared to Yoongi’s. 

Yoongi easily reminded you of it the moment he first came to greet you, taking your hand and kissing the back of it like a noble gentleman. And he has yet to let go of that hand since. 

Yoongi has his hand and long fingers wrapped around yours, engulfing your hand completely in a gentle hold while he takes you across the meadow. He keeps his pace slow to allow you to follow him comfortably while enjoying the view. 

All around you, the world seems to sway with the wind, drifting away out of your touch while he keeps you grounded to him. Every urge you had to pinch yourself to once again make sure that you are not dreaming has long vanished, when the warmth of his hold, his touch, the deep timber of his voice, and his whole presence are enough to let you know that he is real, and that he is truly here with you. 

You can still feel the tingle on your skin, right where he pressed his lips. Slowly, you can feel that tingling sensation surging through your body, until it resides deeply in your chest, making your skin flush and your heart thrumming rapidly in your chest the longer you are with him.

Meanwhile, Yoongi remains oblivious—or he pretends to be. 

He keeps his eyes mostly looking ahead as he continues guiding you to walk with him between the rows of crops, merely throwing quick glances over his shoulder in the middle of explaining to you about the farmland, the crops, and the farmers who are working diligently in the fields to gather the crops before the sun starts to descend. 

Yet you can barely pay much attention to his words. Still feeling dumbfounded that you get to see him again, in a place that is no doubt far, far away from where you met him last. You are also getting more curious to know the meaning behind the pleased look that he is giving you—one that seems to be hinting that he may have somehow expected to be seeing you today. 

“I assume it is just another coincidence that you are also here, traveling through the farms?” you playfully ask him as he comes to a brief pause right in the middle of the field. 

Here, the row of crops have grown just as tall as your shoulders, and it would have made you feel as if you are being swallowed in them if not for Yoongi who is keeping you close and helping navigate your way through them. His face appears between the swaying crops as Yoongi glances over to you and smiles. 

“What if I told you that it may not be a coincidence?” he says to you with a calm voice and just a tinge of tease in his words. “Perhaps it has been decided by fate that we would be seeing each other again.” 

“Fate?” you muse with a smile, “So you believe in such a thing?” 

Yoongi tilts his head and gives you an unwavering smile. “Don’t you believe in fate?” he asks, his voice sounds playful, but he does seem genuinely curious to hear your answer that you find it quite endearing. 

“I think the Fates are the ones that hold the key to every coincidences, no matter how small,” he later adds as he pulls you to walk by his side, the hand that has been holding yours is now placed at the small of your back, guiding you through the thick meadow while he continues to speak, “like how I caught a little dove one day in a market full of people, watched the beautiful thing fly away with almost no hope of ever seeing her again, and yet here we are, walking hand in hand across the cornfields.” 

Your cheeks burn because of his words, yet you hide it by looking away. “You’re speaking with too much jest.” 

Yoongi leans down, denying your effort to avoid his eyes. “You don’t believe my words, then? That it was all thanks to fate that we got to see each other again?” 

Trapped under his attentive gaze, he makes you feel nervous. Yet you find it hard to look away from him. Not that you even want to. 

“Since you saved me the last time we met, I suppose I can learn to trust you,” you say to him while biting back a smile and feigning annoyance, acting as though his comment didn’t send your heartbeat racing a mile a minute. “You know what? I think I can trust you. I don’t see the harm in having a little faith, after everything that you’ve shown me so far.” 

“I feel honoured to have earned your trust,” he says with the corner of his lips tilting up to a smile. He straightens up and continues to guide you through the rest of the meadow until you finally reach the edge, where trees are lined up to mark the estate’s borders and a dirt road spreads wide on the other side. “A wise man once said that a little goes a long way.” 

You laugh at his comment. “Are you the wise man in question?” 

As he takes you under a tree, letting the canopy of leaves above your head shelter you from the pale golden afternoon sun, he turns to you with a gaze that looks so deep it makes you want to drown in it. 

“If you want me to, then I am willing to become one for you.” Yoongi smoothly says, while you can see his gaze dancing with mirth. “I’ve said it before, haven’t I? I can be whatever you want me to be.” 

“Is that so?”

With a shrug, Yoongi simply continues to add, “I can be flexible. I can be whatever and whoever you need me to be. A mercenary, a guide, a guardian, a friend, a farmer.” 

His eyes seem to glow under the shadows formed by the thick leaves above you as he silently gauges your reaction. When you say nothing to him in return, he then simply continues with, “and I can be wherever I want to be, or in places where I am needed. Across the borders, across the land and mountains, and beyond the sea—”

Yoongi lifts a hand and tugs gently at the hood of your cloak until it falls back, revealing your face and hair. He catches a stray strand of your hair that has slipped from its bind with his delicate fingers and carefully tucks it to the back of your ear. A gesture that feels so intimate that the flutters inside your chest go wild. 

And he makes it feel even more intense with his eyes never leaving you as he speaks to you softly, “I can continue following your shadows, if only you’d let me, making sure that you’ll never find yourself feeling like you are all alone in this wicked world.” 

As he finishes talking, you can almost hear the unspoken words that he is withholding from you. You can see it through his lingering gaze, in his secretive smile, and in the way he is looking at you knowingly, silently telling you that he knows more than he is letting you on. 

In that moment, you finally realise the reason why you are able to recognise this look, and why you feel so familiar with it. 

Because you have seen it before; through your father’s eyes, when he first welcomed your arrival at the Stargrave Castle and on the day he passed you the magic keys; on Nanny Abigail’s smile, whenever she brought up any story about your mother and the memories from your childhood that you had long lost; and in the reflection that you see in the mirror whenever you have to lie to your lady maid about your past afternoon activities while she is brushing your hair to help you prepare for the day. 

A look that holds a secret, something that is so deeply concealed and carries a lot of weight that it makes you feel like you are standing on the precipice of your sanity. 

As you fall silent, Yoongi reaches out, delicately catching your wrists with his hands. Without saying a word to you, he gently runs his thumb across your skin, and your body reacts almost immediately. 

You feel yourself swaying before you realise what is happening. You start leaning closer, your chest brushes against his, and that is when you can feel it.

A tingling sensation runs through your body the more you lean into him. It seems to begin from the touch of his fingers on your skin, yet it quickly spreads all over his body, brushing against yours while drawing you further into him. 

You remember feeling this same sensation whenever you walk across the magic portal, which has been growing stronger as you continue using your father’s magic, and the more you continue using his magic keys. 

Magic. What you are feeling is magic. And it is coming from him. 

“You,” you gasp softly once realisation dawns on you. Your head is spinning as your mind slowly starts putting all the pieces together until it becomes almost too overwhelming for you to think clearly. Yet you still manage to find your voice, allowing you to question him, “You’re not a regular human, are you?” 

Yoongi simply smiles in return and tilts his head. “What makes you say that, little dove?” 

He makes no move, so you take the initiative by stepping into his personal space, getting even closer to him to test your theory. So close, that your chest nearly brushes against him, and you can feel the magic growing stronger, radiating from his body in a soft hum that fills your senses—as if the magic that is coming out of him is welcoming your presence.

Being this close also allows you to feel the soft thrum of his heartbeat vibrating from under his thin white shirt, almost in tune with your own. You have no idea what to make of this, so you put that thought aside as you try to focus on the murmurs of mana that are trying to reach out to you.

With a deep inhale of breath, you look up, meeting his gaze to whisper, “Because we’re no longer in the human realm. And just like me, you would need a special means of travel to be here.”

Like the magic that you can sense coming from him. A strong spell. A portal.

You bite your lips, having no idea how to question his ability without having to reveal your secret in return. You can almost hear your father’s voice, reminding you to keep the magic portals and his keys a secret through the echoes going inside your head.  

“Within each one of the silver doors, there is a strong kind of magic. One that has been so demanding of our family’s powers, exists under my control, and it is also the type of magic that should be kept secret, no matter what. Once you go through them, you will understand why it is important for me to defend this castle and our home territory.”

Noticing your hesitance, Yoongi brushes has fingers on your wrists once again, drawing your attention back to him to see his smile. “Perhaps, if you would give me a chance, I can explain everything to you.” 

“Yes, please explain,” you find yourself whispering back to him, “Tell me everything.” 

Yoongi nods and starts glancing around. “Not here,” he murmurs as he slides his fingers between yours, entwining them together. “Follow me. This conversation may require us a place to sit down and be comfortable, preferably with a few glasses of drinks to share, maybe a meal? If I remember correctly, you have a taste to sweet and savoury snacks.”

Hearing that he remembers about your previous ‘date’ brings a smile to your face. “Where are you taking me?” you question him as he begins taking you away from the flourishing meadow. “Are you thinking of kidnapping me now that I vowed to trust you?” 

“Sounds tempting,” he teases with a wink. “But I promise, I’ll keep you safe until you are to return to—” Something flickers through his gaze. A deeper secret. A question. But it is gone when he continues to add, “wherever you came from.” 

He reaches out to you with his free hand, playing with the hood of your cloak to place it back in place, as if hiding you from sight. “I want us to have some privacy as we chat. Which would be quite impossible to do now that the farmers have caught your presence,” he says while his throws a subtle glance over your shoulder. 

Carefully, you follow his gaze and steal a quick glance to see a few farmers surreptitiously watching you from under their bamboo hats with curious eyes. 

How odd, you wonder. They paid no mind to me at all earlier while I was walking through the fields. As if they couldn’t see me. 

You turn to look at Yoongi again, wondering if he has anything to do with the unwanted attention. Maybe they are looking at him, instead of you, and wondering why he was pulling a random stranger across the fields? 

You have so many questions, and for some reason, something tells you that he may have all the answers. But how much can you truly trust him? How much can you share in return?

You keep these questions to yourself, however, and instead follow him without a word as Yoongi once again begins to guide you with him, taking you further away from the pastureland and the curious farmers through the dirt road. 

“Y’Old Whispers.”

When Yoongi talked about taking you to a place that would be comfortable and safe enough for you to have a chat, you didn’t expect him to be taking you to this place. 

Written in ancient letterings, the tavern’s name—which is engraved right above the tavern’s front doors—draws you back to the conversation that you had earlier with the farmers. You are beginning to question if fate truly does have a hand in leading you to this place, albeit through Yoongi’s hands. 

Located on the other side of the farmer’s village, the old tavern sits right in the intersection where the dirt road crossing the farm estate and the farmer’s village meets the gravel-covered road leading towards the busier downtown. A stone bridge hovering over the nearby bank that borders between the farming region and the more advanced town seems to be the connecting route that helps people travel from one region to another. 

Right now, the path seems vacant. Which isn’t much of a surprise when most of the villagers are still so hard at work. There is nothing visible except for the scattered dirt and carriage tracks that have been imprinted on the gravel road. There are empty carriages parked on the side of the road, which no doubt would be filled with crops by the end of the day. 

“You’ve heard of the place?” Yoongi asks after hearing you whisper the tavern’s name with such familiarity, while you merely shrug, feeling intrigued to find out what you may find inside more than you are curious to know how Yoongi could have known about this place.

Just like how he knew exactly where to take you during your great escape back in Narlès.

“A kind local farmer who I encountered earlier today told me about this place,” you explain to him, “He said something about it being the perfect place for travellers to recoup, rest, and gather some information.” 

Yoongi seems pleased to hear this. “I guess that means I made a good choice of bringing you here, then,” he proudly boasts, “Still not convinced that this is the work of fate?” 

Choosing not to share your brief thoughts about fate, you simply give him a coy smile. “We’ll have to see.”

Chuckling softly, Yoongi takes your hand in his and guides you to enter the small tavern. He pushes the old wooden door that swings open with a creak, and the sounds from within filters out through the door; the low murmurs of conversation shared between the patrons, the sounds of clinking glass and cutleries, and a faint melody of a lute being strummed from somewhere inside the bustling tavern. 

“Shall we?” Yoongi invites you to walk in first as he holds the door open. 

Walking into the tavern, a blast of warmth welcomes you. The air inside is thick with the scent of seasoned timber and the comforting aroma of hearty meals. There is also the strong scent of brewing alcohol wafting around you. Yet what draws your attention is the scent of aromatic herbs which seems to be coming from the kitchen, making you wonder what kind of sustenance and brews that this place may be offering its guests.

Looking around, you cannot help but compare this place with The Rare Roots.  

Inside, the tavern seems much smaller and perhaps more humble.the atmosphere seems a bit calmer, compared to the loud and rowdy air that you had often seen back at The Rare Roots. 

Just as you had expected, the light inside is kept dim, but there are wide windows on the other side of the tavern that are open towards the bank and the dirt road bordering the village. The windows allow the golden sunlight to filter into the room, adding natural warmth within while the hearth at the end of the room remains unlit. 

Perhaps it will remain that way until later in the evening, when the night turns cold and the hot meals no longer bring enough warmth. 

At the corner of the room, there is a young man playing the lute while serenading solemnly for the patrons who are dining and drinking around him, most seem to be chattering mindlessly over the tune that he is playing.

So that’s where the music was coming from, you wonder with a smile, admiring the musician who seems to be enjoying himself despite the lack of attention he seems to be getting. 

Yoongi places a gentle hand on the small of your back, guiding you towards the main bar. The bar, which seems to be made of old wood, is stretched along one side of the room, right at the far back.  Under the dim light, you notice the ornamental carving adorning the front side of the bar which appears slightly worn down and is fading with age. There is a story there, you realise, although you might not be able to know what it’s all about when you know almost nothing about this place. 

Behind the bar, wooden shelves fill the wall from the floor to ceiling, with an array of colourful bottles and tankards lined up within the racks. Hops filled with the local brews are lined up at the sides, and you notice that there is also a hint of a rich aroma of herbs wafting from within.

Right at the bar stands the bartender, a seasoned figure with a mop of unruly ginger hair on top of his head, a dust of five o’clock beard around his sharp jaw, and a friendly twinkle in his eyes. He glances up from the glass that he has been busy polishing in his hands, offering a nod of acknowledgement at Yoongi while the latter greets the bartender as if they are old friends.

“Business seems to be running well today.” 

The bartender grins at Yoongi as he sets down the glass that he was working on, switching it with another from the counter, continuing his work to polish the glass as he answers Yoongi, “’Tis harvesting season, this is. Folks come by during their breaks, have their meals and drinks here before going back out to the field there. More folks will come in the evening for tomorrow’s work, but yer not staying here that long, I bet.” 

You take a quick glance around the room, soaking it all in. Noticing only now the distinctive features of the patrons filling the tavern to realise that the ‘folks’ that he mentioned seem to vary. Sitting in small groups, they separate themselves between travellers, local and foreign merchants, mercenaries on duty, and also commoners and locals who look like farmers and workmen who have no doubt been working for the harvest. 

Turning back to the bar, you find that the bartender already has his gaze on you. He silently watches you with a knowing look in his eyes, as if he is trying to read you. But then a friendly smile appears on his face as he turns to Yoongi once again to ask, “The usual?” 

Yoongi nods. “You always know what I need.” 

The bartender chuckles. “Don’t I know it better than other folks would,” he says with a quip. “The table’s been cleaned in the morning. I somehow had a hunch you’ll be stopping by today.” 

“Thanks,” Yoongi says to the man before guiding you away from the main bar, going past the corner where the musician is still playing his lute, and then turning to the small stairs that is hidden from view on the other side of the fireplace.

The short flight of stairs takes you to a more private quarter right above the crowded ground floor. Instead of a closed room, the space you are walking into is an open balcony. There is a row of tables and seats set up near the railings and outer columns that are covered with vines, a smaller version of the bar’s wall mounted shelves you saw downstairs stretches out on the adjacent wall, all filled with similar bottles of drinks and tankards lined up in order. 

Yoongi walks ahead with a familiarity in his attitude, looking as if he owns the place. He then goes towards one of the nearest seats and pulls it back for you. “Milady,” he says with an overly dramatic poise, making you think of a refined noble. The notion only makes you smile as his action seems a bit too graceful for a man wearing a bamboo hat and cotton pants covered in dried soil. 

“Thank you, my kind Sir,” you accept his offer by playing along by curtsying at him, which draws out his deep chuckle. After helping you settle in your seat, Yoongi walks around the table and claims the seat right across from you. “I suppose it’s safe to assume that you are a regular to this place?” 

Yoongi smiles. “This place has a great view, as you can see,” he says, pointing out at the balcony. 

You take a look around, realising that he is right. From the balcony, you get to see the sight of the vast farmland that you visited earlier—which you had suspected to be a part of your father’s secret estate—that is fully visible on one side. Looking over to the other side, you get a clearer view of the village’s borders; the river, the intersection, and the crossing bridge leading towards the main town. 

Seeing all of this, you realise that this private space would be the perfect spot for you, or anyone else, to watch the comings and goings between this village and the neighbouring town.

Turning back to the table, something catches your eyes that makes you stop. Right in the corner of the table where you are sitting at, there is a familiar-looking crest that have been skilfully engraved into the wooden surface. The same crest that you had once seen printed on the reports handed to the King by the royal advisors about the suspected rebellion rising among the commoners.

It only takes a moment before it dawns on you. 

“This is a viewing spot for you and your brothers of the mercenary, isn’t it?” 

Yoongi has a smile on his face when you look back at him. For some reason, he seems—pleased, that you manage to catch on so easily. “You are quite perceptive,” he says. “That is correct. Me and my men often gather here. Sometimes we’d be here for work, either it’s for aiding a merchant who has some business in this place and needs our protection. Other times, we would come here to do a simple surveillance work, but we mostly use this place as a rendezvous spot and to recoup just as you had suggested.” 

Right as you are about to question whether the bartender or any of the men downstairs have been a part of his army, the bartender himself appears at the doorway, approaching your table with an easy smile on his face. The worn wooden floor creaks softly beneath his heavy steps. His looks remind you a little of the barkeep, Sir Elias, who is just as friendly and as massive as this man looks—although you must admit that the older barkeep back home seems to be a bit taller and more muscular. 

You lower your hood to greet the kind bartender as he sets down a pair of tankards filled with the local brew and a large plate filled with fried meal; spicy chicken wings, deep fried sweet potatoes that have been chopped in small strips, flour-coated fried vegetables and sausages, with buttermilk biscuits on the side. 

Yoongi takes a peek at the plated fried meal and raises his eyebrows. 

“Hey,” the bartender says, shrugging and crossing his arms, “You said to get you the usual.” 

Yoongi shakes his head. “I was thinking about your special stew and seasoned chicken. The biscuits are fine,” he says, before turning to you, “You’ll have to forgive O’Moran here, as he rarely serves a distinguished lady in his business.” 

“That there is true,” the man, O’Moran, admits proudly before bending down at the waist for his own version of curtsy. “The name’s O’Moran, M’lady. As a local establishment, I must shamefully admit that we’re lacking in our fancy menus. The stew might take a while to boil. We’ve been busy since dawn, so we keep running out of our specials today.” 

Smiling, you simply regard him with a nod. “That’s quite alright, Sir. I’m actually more curious to try on your local brew. I’ve heard good things about the special drink that was said to help mend exhausted travellers like myself.” 

There is a glint in his eyes as he listens to your compliment. You figure it may have something to do with the secret behind the drink’s special healing effect. You can almost hear the wheels in his mind turning as he silently tries to figure out who you are.

“Then you are in for a treat, M’lady. This here is our special brew. Made not only to restore your health, but also magic for some,” he says, drawing a smile from you.  

“Then I shall savour the drink, together with the snacks that you served us,” you kindly say to the man, who later scoffs at Yoongi.

“See? The Lady doesn’t mind your boys’ favourite snacks,” he boasts with a chuckle while Yoongi rolls his eyes. “Do you folks need anything else?” 

“We’ll be fine. I’ll call you up if we need anything else,” Yoongi says to the man, while O’Moran shrugs. 

“I’ll leave you folks be, then. I’ll go down and have a look at that stew and bring you some when it’s ready,” he says as he turns away. “And some refills to that drink,” he adds with a wink. 

You thank the man one last time before he walks away, disappearing through the small stairs to return to the crowded bar and the kitchen downstairs. Once again, you are left alone with Yoongi in the privacy of the secluded balcony, accompanied by the trickling sound of the flowing river nearby and the breeze that is slowly cooling down as the day is closing into dusk. 

Taking one of the drinks, you take a careful sip of the brew, tasting it in your tongue. A rich taste of herbs fills your mouth, and you take your time savouring it. 

Closing your eyes, you focus on the other sensations that are rising from within as warmth starts flowing through your body. A dust of tingles spreads through your skin, while everything else on the inside seems to be mending together. Your exhaustion slowly melts, your chest seems to feel lighter and it feels easier to breathe, while your muscles no longer feel as tense as they were after dealing with your royal duties before venturing through the magic door this afternoon. 

“This is…quite nice,” you mutter as you open your eyes, loving the way your body feels after drinking it. 

You look up, noticing that Yoongi is watching you closely while he is enjoying his own drink. “I assume that as you’ve heard about this place, you must know what this drink does to our bodies.” 

“You can say that,” you answer him with a grin. As you watch him taking another drink, the words from the old farmer return to you, reminding you of what he mentioned before about the local brew being made in this place—

“Just say yer new ‘round here and he’ll have ye the fine brew of his that’s said to be good for young elves.”

Earlier, his words had only made you think about how it was supposed to refer to you, making you wonder if the farmer had indeed sensed something about yourself which you haven’t been able to identify for yourself. 

But now, as you watch Yoongi closing his eyes briefly as he savours his drink, you begin to question about his secrets. “What are you, really?” you find yourself asking him as the curiosity grows on you. “Who are you? How do you travel between realms?” Your eyes briefly turn towards the engraved emblem by the table and wonder, “Is it safe to assume that your men is capable of doing the same thing?” 

“So many questions,” Yoongi muses with a soft chuckle as he puts down his drink. He carefully leans forward and says, “So many things to unpack. I don’t even know where to start.”

There is something in his voice that makes you feel wary, the hidden challenge that he seems to be giving you making you grow alert against him. It makes you want to draw back, to take back all the words that you had just given him the moment you realise that the more he reveals his secrets, he would only make it fair by demanding the same honesty from you in return.  

“You can start by explaining what you can,” you carefully say to him, allowing your curiosity to win. 

Yoongi taps his fingers on the table, contemplating his answer. And just as expected, he responds to you by saying, “And what do I get in return? What do you have to offer for an honest answer?” 

— © 2024 Yoonia, all rights reserved. reposting/modifying of any kind is not allowed. unsolicited translations are not allowed.

#yoongi scenarios #k-vanity #btscreaturescoven #bangtanwhq #yoongi fanfic #yoongi scenario #yoongi fluff #suga scenario #suga angst #suga fluff #yoongi x reader #suga x reader #bts fanfic #bts scenario #bts angst #bts fluff #bts x reader #yoongi angst