#and I understand the want for that sweet and juicy angst | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

inthelibrarybtw · 14 days ago

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you’re gonna go far | two - the country club

SERIES MASTERLIST pairing: rafe cameron x pogue!reader

summary: where rafe who hates pogues has a soft spot for a pogue girl, who couldn't care less about him, it's too independent and too focused on graduating college and making it out of the cut to pay attention to him or where they say they don't like each other yet for a reason they are always at the same place at the same time, him making time for her and her never pushing away but again they don't like each other. word count: 4.5k content: kelce being an asshole, tension, angst, manhandling (not from rafe), cursing, suggestive, probably inaccurate golf talk, topper being nice for once. authors note: it took me too long to finish it i apologize, i'm not the biggest fan of this but i had to set the scene and introduce some very important characters for the story to continue and to finally get on to the juicy stuff. i read it like 4 times but if you see a grammar error let me know i can always miss things. enjoy!

Working on Figure 8 for a pogue was very common, those were usually the better paid jobs so naturally that’s where usually everyone wanted to work or went looking for a job. You actually spent more time on Figure 8 than most of your friends. You had been on multiple jobs over the years, bookshop, coffee shop, retail, babysitting, waitressing in different places, the one night fancy events were the best, the check was big even though you would usually end up almost passing out from exhaustion. The job you were in was one of the best, it was at a cute bistro aimed at girls. The vibes were very girly, the uniform was pretty, everything about the job was good, everything but the clients, the older clients were the problem most of the time. You couldn’t stand another minute more of these stupid older women in their 40s treating you as if you were a freaking alien and all you could do was smile and nod even when you wanted to spill their drinks on them, scream at them or even spit on their food.

You would expect trashy behavior from girls your age and they had their moments but usually they didn’t care or if they knew you through Sarah they were nice but the problem was usually their mothers and one kook girl group and oh they made sure to make your life a living hell. And that’s why now your patience was at negative 100 and you were looking for a new job that was as good as this one in the financial area and that you could enjoy at least a bit.

The days after the Boneyard party you were focused on looking for a new job which had help you ignore everything that had happened with Rafe that night, but some of the things you said and he said were replaying in your mind making it a little bit harder to concentrate and since you spent too much time on Figure 8 you had been on edge not wanting to bump into him but again that little bistro was aimed at women and too girly for him to even set foot in so that was the only thing keeping you at ease.

You wanted to find another job on your own, this one Lily had helped you secure it and you were forever grateful but you didn’t want to ask for her help again or Richard’s. Lily and Richard were this old couple you had met around a year and a half ago, give or take. You had met them in the coffee shop you used to work at before. They were regulars and usually came by on slow days so you always sat with them and quickly they became your friends. They had helped you one to secure a better job and two to know when you could apply for a scholarship at community college last year. They were in a sense like godparents, they had always wanted a daughter or granddaughter and it didn’t happen so when they met you, a girl around their grandsons age and with how sweet and kind you were to them they just wanted to look out for you while that wasn’t the only reason or even the main one it was the one they gave you, you still didn’t understand it but you never pushed them to tell you the truth. Your mom was aware they were your friends and in how they had basically made you their goddaughter and as a little strange it was for a 20 year old to be friends with a couple in their 70s she was so grateful for how much they had helped you. They had pushed you to make decisions like going to college and helped you find a job, your mother couldn’t thank them enough for the big impact they had in your life. Sometimes people just needed someone external like a mentor to make them do things they wouldn’t normally do and that’s what they were for you.

You had already been studying for a year and in a couple months you were starting your sophomore year of college, nursing had always been your dream but you were going to study to be a teacher until by grace meaning Lily, had talked to you she finally convinced you to go for what you really wanted, your mother had been fighting with you about it and when you finally made the decision she could almost kiss Lily. That’s another reason why your mom was grateful for them, their advice went through more easily probably because of the age and well your mom knew how stubborn you were, you were like her so she couldn’t really blame you for not listening to her all the time. But you did listen to her this time and that’s why you ended up knocking on Lily and Richard’s house that day. You felt like a puppy with her tail in between her legs, you were unsuccessful at finding a new job on your own and your mom told you to ask for help. It took a while to convince you but there you were.

“Oh sweetie what an amazing surprise!” Lily smiled when she opened the door to greet you, letting you in their house, it was crazy how familiar it felt. “Richard! Look who came to visit us” she said with the warmest smile ever.

She let you in, or more like dragged you inside, it felt familiar. Still you felt like you were abusing their trust and their kindness, they didn’t see it like that but you did “Well hello you!” Richard says “what brings you here today? More of Lily’s food? Because i can’t blame you if you do” he chuckles

“Uh not precisely” you smile, feeling like the worst person it’s okay to ask for help you kept repeating in your mind. Lily noticed your uneasiness and decided to distract you.

“Why don’t you sit here?” she pointed to the kitchen island “I was waiting for some cookies to cool you can help me decorate them God knows Richard won’t do it”

“I can help to eat them” he pointed out while walking to sit on the couch, the kitchen had a little sitting area “so tell us what brings you around?” you silently sigh, grabbing a piping bag to help Lily decorate the cookies

“Richard shut it, she can come by with no reason if she wants, she’s always welcome” Lily says while putting the icing on the cookies and giving you a knowing look, how on earth does she do that?

He rolls his eyes playfully ��No, I didn't mean it like that, you know that, right Y/N?” Richard is used to Lily’s attitude, you chuckle and nod. For a while you kept quiet, indulging in the talk, finding the courage to finally speak up and ask for their help.

“So how’s work?” Lily asked, you didn’t notice the knowing look she had given you, she knew you weren’t liking it, you haven’t told her anything but she knew since she usually went by to get together with her friends but she always noticed the disgust in your face when talking to certain people. You had never been good at hiding emotions with your face, maybe you didn’t talk but your face sure did.

“Uh it’s good yeah” you tried to sound convincing, dodging her gaze. They exchanged a look, Lily had told her suspicions to Richard and they had already thought about a new job that you had mentioned you would like to get.

“So there’s no chance you would like to change jobs?” Richard asks as he keeps going through his phone. You stare at him, like it’s a joke.

“Oh…” is the only thing that comes out of your mouth. Lily turns to look at you, lifting one eyebrow.

“Don’t worry sweetie, if you’re happy where you are don’t let us push you to do something you don’t want to” You didn’t notice but Lily mouthed you’ll see to Richard

“I wouldn’t mind knowing, i-” you pause for a second “if it’s not for me maybe I know someone who might need it” you try to make it sound as if you’re okay with your current job.

“It’s at the Country Club as beverage cart girl it has great pay and tips can be really good too, with how you are we’re sure you won’t have problems with that but if it’s not for you please let us know of someone who might be interested” Lily kept explaining “I’ll admit it can be a little tedious since you have to be on a cart all day around the golf course” your eyes light up bev cart girl, you wanted that job for a while but there were no openings.

“I want it, if it’s okay” you admit, but you look down you can’t stop feeling guilty, it’s okay to let people help

Lily smiled kindly “Well that’s terrific, right Richard?”

“Of course it is, now we’re gonna see you more” he says kindly, you relax. They always meant good, you slapped yourself mentally for feeling guilty or ashamed

“They want you there on Friday so they can train you” you nodded at Lily and spent the rest of the afternoon with them.

—

During the week after the Boneyard party, Rafe had been in a sour mood, he had been snapping at anyone, Sarah was so over his tantrums to the point that she even went out of her way to talk to Topper so maybe he could help or take him out of the house because she couldn’t stand another second with his bitchy ass.

So that’s how he ended up in the Country Club with Topper and Kelce. Topper didn’t think much on why Rafe was in such a foul mood. Normally it was because of a fight with his dad so he thought it was that again. Wrong, everything was reminding him of you and he tried really hard to just ignore what he was feeling and all the awful things he had said to you but it was like his subconscious was torturing him and he was beyond frustrated.

Golfing with his friends usually helped him get distracted but this time it didn’t work, he was more quiet and not very into the game. He was attempting (and failing) to play golf, getting even more frustrated because the one thing he did to take his mind off things was not working and to make things even worse he saw you driving that stupid golf cart.

“You gotta be fucking kidding me” he mutter to himself

One thing that didn’t cross your mind when you accepted the job was the fact that Rafe liked golf and that he actually spent a lot of time at the Country Club, maybe because you didn’t know he liked golf. It had been five days since you had started working there up to that point you hadn’t thought about Rafe until you saw him, you cursed mentally, it was a rule to stop every time you saw a group of golfers just in case they needed something. You parked the cart, Topper and Kelce started approaching.

You can do it, it’s your job now you told yourself, you put on a fake smile that was very easily wiped off.

“Well, well, well if it isn’t our favorite bev cart girl?” Kelce said, his voice dripping something that made you feel uncomfortable

“This is the first time you’re seeing me around” you stated as you got out of the cart. The glances Kelce was giving to you made you feel uneasy but you tried to ignore him the best you could

“Yeah but it doesn’t mean we haven’t heard from you” Topper was staring at you, not intentionally but he was, he wasn’t gonna lie you were very pretty, easy on the eyes. Rafe noticed the way they were looking at you and unlike Kelce he was not amused.

“Shut it both of you” he snaps at them. Topper finally looks away but in confusion as to why Rafe was so annoyed, Sarah was not lying was the only thing he thought.

“Uh… anything you guys want?” you asked focusing again on why you had stopped and not them for a second

“Oh we definitely want something” Kelce said, his tone dripping with something else you didn’t like. You stood near the cart allowing you to put some distance between them, Kelce more specifically “Got something planned after your shift?” Topper rolls his eyes at the flirting attempts of Kelce, while Rafe just tenses up a little more seeing you’re just awkwardly smiling trying to avoid whatever Kelce is trying to do.

“Back off idiot, you’re making her uncomfortable” Rafe speaks up, his tone firm and with a hint of warning. You looked at him for a second, silently thanking him but you didn’t forget how awful he made you feel, you knew you had to get over it but you were only human and his words had hurt you a little too much for your liking and seeing him again just brought it back.

“What’s up with you man? Can’t a guy just flirt with the pretty bev cart girl? I'm not doing any harm am I?” Kelce said with a hint of arrogance, you would’ve slapped his face right there but you were working and if you did you would be fired and you needed to work.

“Since you guys don’t need anything I have to go back to my rounds” you said ignoring everything that Kelce had said and walking back to the driver's seat. Much to your disgrace you felt a hand grabbing your arm. Kelce’s hand.

“Wait- don’t leave just yet we’re having a nice little conversation aren’t we? Can’t we have a little fun?” Kelce grins, while Topper just stands there not knowing if he should intervene or not, he is gauging at Rafe’s reaction and at what Kelce might try to do.

“Let go” you say your tone firm, you might be getting too stressed but you’re not letting it show

“Aw don’t be like that, just wanna talk” he keeps the grip on your arm, not willing to let go

“You don’t need your hands to talk, so let go” you pulled your arm back, his grip unwavering

“Feisty, I like that” his eyes roam shamelessly over your body, you feel so uncomfortable and helpless. In any other scenario you wouldn’t but right now it was either you kicked him and lost your job or try to handle the situation the best you could.

“I really need to go, unless you guys want any drinks” you kept trying to deviate the conversation back to the original reason for your stop.

“How about we start with your number?” Kelce said, Topper widening his eyes in shock and Rafe just clenched his jaw more, how much more was his friend gonna push you? And how much longer until he breaks? “Although I know one thing I want to drink” Kelce added his tone as suggestive as it could get

“Jesus, Kelce stop” Topper looked at him and put a hand over his shoulder, he had felt the tension in the air and either he stopped him or he knew Rafe was gonna do something so much worse

The grip on your arm loosened a bit when he turned to Topper but then he looked back at you “Come on pretty face, just give me your number, it won’t hurt” you shook your head immediately

“I really need to get back to work” you looked at Topper and Rafe, silently pleading to make Kelce stop, you would’ve never expected to be silently asking Rafe to do something but this was getting out of hand. He was having an inner turmoil, he wanted to beat Kelce’s ass and help you but he was completely frozen in anger.

“Aw come on we’re not done here yet” he fake pouts for a second, getting a little closer to you, you try to pull back but unfortunately he’s stronger than you. You glance again at the other two, at that point you didn’t care who did something but you needed help.

Topper notices how Rafe is clenching his jaw and his veins are popping out. He takes one step up but before hell breaks loose Topper speaks up with a firm tone “Kelce that’s enough. Let her go” you feel like you’re about to relax but much to your disgrace Kelce is still holding your arm and harder this time.

“What? We’re having fun aren’t we? She’s fine”

“No, she’s not, you're making her uncomfortable, let her go now.” Topper notices how he didn’t let go and notice how Rafe was about to break and he knew he was gonna regret it not because Kelce didn’t deserve it but because you were gonna see it, it was an unknown thing for you but he had beat up a guy once or twice at parties when they said some comments just like the ones Kelce was making but worse. But he always made sure you weren’t around or ever found out about it. Yes you had seen him fight JJ or John B but that was purely because they were pissing him off and it wasn’t related to you.

“Dude she doesn’t want your ‘fun’ This isn’t about what you want but what she wants and clearly is not this. Now back off and let her go” Topper’s tone was firm, at that Kelce let you go. Rafe on the other hand was fuming one at how far Kelce had taken things and two at Topper for defending you, he knew being mad at his friend for defending you was a bit childish but it was more because he had stepped up instead of him.

At the second Kelce had let you go, you gave Topper a small smile and he basically dragged Kelce away.

“If you need anything I’ll be around” you didn’t want to be around them for one more second. You glanced at Rafe one more time before leaving, his gaze filled with something you couldn’t understand, you ignored it and got back to the cart and drove away.

“The fuck is wrong with you?” Rafe finally spoke up, pushing Kelce back a little too hard “Think you’re funny?”

“Jeez calm down, it was all in good faith” Kelce smirked, Topper shook his head and intervened before it could escalate to something else.

“Kelce… you’ve done enough. Didn’t you have that meeting with your parents today? You should leave” Topper tried searching for excuses to kick his friend out before Rafe could beat him up. Kelced huffed but he did in fact have something else to do so he left.

After he left Topper brought back his attention to Rafe “Hey man, you okay?” he was actually trying to be a good friend, while Rafe was seething still angry about everything that had just happened.

“Just peachy” the image of Kelce grabbing you, your face… damn it your face, the stress and maybe even fear, why didn’t he do something? He cared for you, yet he didn’t do anything. He was even more angry this time with himself.

“Come on, let’s play, it'll help” he nodded. Yes, golf should help but it didn’t, he kept looking where you had driven away. After what felt like an eternity you showed up again, you were surprised they were still playing, you noticed just two sets of clubs meaning Kelce was no longer there, it gave you peace.

“I hate this game” Rafe mutters under his breath after hitting the ball with more force than necessary. He was so in his head he hadn’t noticed when you showed up until you talked.

“Hey” you talked in a soft yet cold tone, catching him off guard

“Hey” his face was serious, angry even but his tone had gone soft when he noticed it was you

“Do you guys need anything? Snacks, water, ice?” your tone was cold, only made him feel even more guilty.

“No, we’re good for now” until that moment he didn’t notice your uniform, it suited you, the color, everything, it accentuated your body in ways he found enticing and infuriating. He shook his head “But you could stick around for a bit” Topper looked at him confused and interested in the change of demeanor once you had showed up. He was trying to make up for what had happened at the party and with Kelce without addressing the issues.

“I-” you had been caught off guard but you recovered quickly “I can’t, there’s other golfers who might need something and I’m still working”

Rafe seems disappointed? He knows you have to work but he doesn’t want you to go. Topper catches the way his shoulder slightly slump and decides to intervene “Not even a five minute break? I bet it can be tiring having to go around in this heat and serving a lot of people” he was not wrong but still you couldn’t

“I can’t, I have scheduled breaks and that’s in an hour… unless you guys buy something from the cart I can’t stay”

“How about a refill on golf balls? I lost some already and I’m running low” he has a slight smirk on his face trying his best to make you loosen up, he’s lying he never loses a golf ball but it was the first excuse that came to mind and it was believable.

“I'm not the girl for that” you admit with a serious face “but I know someone who can help”

“Can’t make an exception? We won’t snitch” he smirked at you, what was he trying to do? You wanted to wipe that smirk off his face.

“I don’t know… I could but only if I get a good tip” you shrugged, you could do it yes it wasn’t something you would normally do but in your training they had told you that even if it wasn’t part of your job description you had to learn in case of an staff emergency. This was far from being that and you were still annoyed at everything revolving around him so you were gonna try everything to make him back off.

“You got yourself a deal” he agreed almost immediately. You had said that so he could stop asking, but it had caused the opposite reaction. You sighed giving up, at least you were gonna get money out of this.

“I’ll be back then… how many do you need?”

“I’ll take three” his smirk was still plastered on his face, Topper looked in between the two of you, he tried to suppress a smile at the palpable attraction between the two of you, or more the attraction Rafe had for you. The very noticeable change in his demeanor and humor once you had shown up it was like you had brightened up his day.

“Okay, Topper do you need anything?” you asked being polite

“No no, I’m fine thanks” to which you nodded once and walked away saying a quiet I’ll be back, leaving the cart there and making your way to go pick the three golf balls. Once you were out of earshot Topper turns to Rafe and grins widely

“Dude, you’re like down bad for her” he chuckled

“Shut up man” Rafe says as he glares back at Topper

“No, seriously it's like you’re almost drooling over her” He knew it was true, he wasn’t going to admit it but he knew you had some kind of power over him even if it was just by being there.

“You’re being insane”

“Oh I'm insane?, when have you ever been like this? You’re trying too hard to get on her good side, I really never thought I’d see the day, Rafe Cameron pining over a girl, that by the way doesn’t seem to like you” Rafe feels exposed at what Topper is saying so he tries to cover it up

“It’s not like that, she’s just… nice to look at” key on tried to cover it up, he failed miserably, but much to his luck before Topper could keep poking him you showed up again.

You walked back with the three golf balls in your hand “Better tip me good, I went out of my way for these three balls” you gave them to him gently, he was a member you had to be nice.

“Oh don’t worry sweetheart I’ll tip you good” he smirked, he didn’t intend to sound so flirty but it came out so naturally. Topper had to bite a laugh, it was too funny for him seeing Rafe like this.

“Are you guys really sure you don’t want or need anything from the cart? Snacks? Water? Shots?” you ignored his comment and asked once again getting a little annoyed.

“I’m really okay, thanks though” Topper answered your question

“You guys make my job harder” you admit to both of them

“Well maybe we like making things hard for you” Rafe teased back and you rolled your eyes

“Yeah I see that, you sent me for golf balls when im a bev cart girl emphasis on BEV” you crossed your arms

“Maybe I just wanted to see you walk away in that outfit” his tone was dripping with flirtiness and playfulness like he didn’t mean it but he did, which didn’t make you feel like you were being objectified unlike Kelce had made you feel “Besides I’m sure you have some way I can reward you for all this good service” his smirk unfaltering

“I accept cash right now” you smile knowingly putting your hand out, you would never ask for tips but it was Rafe, he had been an asshole, his friend had basically harassed you, and he made you go look for stupid golf balls, a little money was nothing.

“Ah ever the businesswoman” he chuckled “Fine” he pulled out his wallet a 20 dollar bill and placed it in your hand, the brief contact sending a jolt down his back

“Just that?” you pushed “I think I deserve more for all the emotional damage I had to go through” you perked a brow at him, he huffed.

“Emotional damage are you…” he trailed off biting his tongue, he could tell you were already angry and from The Boneyard party he knew better than to poke you more, so because he had felt awful he let it go “Fine” he pulled another 20 dollar bill “are you happy now?” he rolled his eyes

“Very” you faked smiled “Now if you excuse me there’s people who will not waste my time and will tip me without me having to ask” you rolled your eyes, walking back to your cart and driving away.

“Fuck…” he muttered to himself

“Rafe, my man, you got it bad” Topper said, grabbing Rafe’s shoulders and shaking him “Also what did you do to that girl? It was like she was shooting daggers at you”

“Shut up will you?” he shook his head “let’s finish this game I can still beat you”

taglist: @starkeyvhs @oxpogues4lifexo @persiar9 @lenasvoid @zyafics @angelicameron if you want to be added send an ask or comment! :)

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INTHELIBRARYBTW ✧.*

#rafe cameron #pogue!reader #rafe x reader #rafe fic #YYGF #rafe angst #rafe cameron x reader

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damn-stark · 6 months ago

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Chapter 9 Pure as The Driven Snow

Chapter 9 of Moonlight

A/N- We’re back with new chapters! I hope you guys like it. I got real nervous writing this. I don't know why! Also is it a sign that your dragon likes your lover more than your husband?

Warning- some swearing, talks of pregnancy, Angst!, fluff, hunting SPOILERS, LONG CHAPTER.

Pairing- Aemond Targaryen x Velaryon!fem-reader, Cregan Stark x Velaryon!fem-reader

Episode- After 1x10 & before 2x01

(If you want to be tagged let me know)

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*A FEW MONTHS AGO*

“Dragon fruit for the dragon Princess?”

“Pearl necklace for the Siren of Driftmark?”

“Oranges? They are good for a growing babe.”

You touch your 6-month-old swollen belly and come to another stop in front of a stand to study the big round oranges stacked so neatly on the crates.

“How much?” You ask the vendor.

The man puts his hands on his hips and studies his fruit for a moment before facing you. “Discount for you Princess. 5 Silver dragons.”

You glance at Aemond, and he makes his hesitation known before handing you your pouch of money. He doesn’t find this trip necessary, he says that whatever you want can be brought to you right away, especially because you’re with child, but, being stuck in the same rooms all day is torture! You told him the baby and you would go mad while batting your eyelashes really sweetly and he hesitantly accepted without a fight.

“I’ll give you 10 golden dragons instead of silver,” you tell the vendor as you get out the golden coins that make the man’s eyes almost pop out of eyes. “Find good use for it.”

The man shares a nervous laugh and takes the money, but holds your hand before he steps away and bows his head. “Thank you, Princess. Thank you, may the gods bless you and yours.”

You offer him a kind smile, and then gently pull away to pick the oranges, but he suddenly blocks the oranges with his hands. “No, these are no good. I have perfect ones. Juicy and sweet.”

He crouches and pulls out a box from under the table and hands it to you. Albeit before you can even reach for it, Ser Criston takes the box for you.

“Have a nice day, sir,” you direct at the man before you continue down the street lively with people.

“<He ripped you off you know,>” Aemond grumbles in High Valyrian so the people around you wouldn’t understand him.

You scoff softly and hook your arm around his. “In Winterfell, Lady Arra, and Lord Stark treated their people like they were friends and they got respect.” You sigh and shrug gently. “Of course, I know not everyone has good intentions, but Lord Stark taught me how to read people. I try to use his advice when talking to people here, it is why I know this guy was no trickster.”

Aemond hums in comprehension but doesn’t actually agree or take in what you said. You may be down amongst the people, but he’s in the clouds where he’s untouchable. The only thing that matters is your mention of Lord Stark.

“You and Lord Stark are close friends?”

You don’t remove your hand from his arm even if you’re tempted to, you don’t let your eyes flicker even if you have the burning need to look away to hide the truth. You keep the faint smile that decorates your features and keep looking around. “Well considering I lived in Winterfell for five years, yes, we are good friends. Or were.”

“You don’t write?” He probes and keeps his focus on you to try and watch for anything that might give you away. “You often get letters from Winterfell.”

There’s no excuse for a lingering silence, you can’t breathe a certain way because he’s paying close attention, so you turn your head to meet his gaze and share your rehearsed lie. “Sometimes, but I talk to someone else. A lady friend that lives in the castle. One of late Lady Arra’s friends.”

Aemond holds your gaze and tries to pick up on something just a hair out of place, but you keep composed well and he goes unaware once again, letting you let out a small breath and smile with relief.

“I won’t go poor by giving these people something extra. Bless them and the gods bless you. Lady Stark would say that.” You return the subject to what you were previously talking about. “Besides I actually got a craving for oranges. Or the babe did.” You grin and touch your belly again, feeling a small movement now that makes you giddy.

“Feel,” you beckon Aemond and snatch his hand from his side to press it against your small belly. “He’s moving.”

Aemond comes to a stop in the middle of the street and caresses your belly very gently, letting you watch his blue eye soften, and those thin lips show a faint smile.

And since it took him no time to show his affection or his bliss you can’t help but grin in awe before you slide his hand to the other side. “See?” You interject softly. “He wants oranges.”

A wider smile tugs on Aemond’s face before he takes your hand again and continues to walk with you down the street.

“You do not know that it is a boy,” he likes to remind you.

You giggle. “I do. It’s an instinct. When I imagine the babe I see a boy. Always. We will have a boy. I’ll even bet you.”

Aemond scoffs and smirks. “You can place your bets with Aegon. He never turns down the chance to gamble. I believe you.”

“Good,” you grin. “Now I wonder how many kids we will have, six? I want a big family. But if I can’t have so many I will be content with two, but we need to have a baby girl.”

“So you can name her Daenys?” Aemond finishes for you, making you look at him with awe.

“You remember?” You probe.

A small smirk spreads on his lips and he nods. “I do. You’d only bore me with stories about her.”

You roll your eyes. “I wouldn’t bore you. You’d bring me the books!”

“Because it was your favorite,” he counters softly.

You laugh softly and nod. “It still is. Maybe our Daenys will be an amazing dreamer just like the great legend that saved our house.”

“Yes,” he agrees with an obvious glee in his voice. “Maybe.”

You let out a content sigh and rest your head on his shoulder while you take in the stands you pass.

“Spare some food? Money?” A child with his face covered in dirt asks. “Something small?”

“<He just wants to steal from you, they always have money.>” Aemond points out.

Even if he did, you don’t care, you stop and turn to pick out an orange off the box.

The kids' eyes grow curious, and they follow your hand as you move it towards him. You pretend you’re going to give him a single orange, but you then hand it to Aemond and instead grab the box from Ser Criston’s hold.

“Take it,” you tell the kid. “It’s for you.”

You put the box down in front of him and offer him a smile before you move on. This time Aemond doesn’t remark on your actions—you wouldn't care either way, so he just lets it pass and takes your hand in his again so you wouldn’t wander off just as you approach the outer castle gates.

However, before you can cross the courtyard, a woman with a bright red dress walks out of her house and announces something that steals your immediate attention. “Wish to know your future, my Princess?”

“Princess,” Ser Criston immediately interjects. “She’s only trying to take your money. It’s a scam. Leave it.”

You flick your wrist down and take the money pouch from Aemond’s side.

“Your worry is misplaced, Ser,” the pretty lady with beautiful and remarkable colored eyes cuts in. “But I understand. Patience is a fickle thing is it not, Ser Criston Cole? If only you had known it, you would be happy now.” Her eyes dart to you and then go back to him quickly as if trying to point something out.

You don’t read into it, or demand an explanation, you let her continue as she looks between all three of you. “I am a humble servant of the Lord of Light,” she rebuttals, “I only mean to give the Princess insight for her eyes are covered and her soul is basked by darkness.”

You smile at her eagerly and let Aemond go to step towards her. “What is your name?” You ask first.

The woman's bright eyes meet yours and her lips tug upward just slightly. “I am Kinvara, Priestess of the Lord of Light.”

Your name passes Aemond’s lips, but you disregard his warning and the priestess tries to ease Aemond’s worry in your mother tongue. “<I am no one to fear, fear resides in the whispers that are heard in the shadows, and from the lips of pretenders,” she pauses and narrows her eyes on him. “You see clearly with her at your side, venture too far and you're left blind. Don’t let the shadows consume you, My Prince, or darkness is all you’ll know.>”

You glance at him and grin brightly before facing her again. “Now can you tell me what I seek?” You press impatiently.

Kinvara turns and walks inside, speechlessly motioning you to follow, but before you can you face Aemond first. “Wait for me out here,” you tell him.

Aemond shoots you a pointed glare and grabs your arm. “Let’s go. This is all fake. She will take your money.”

You pat his cheek and give him one last piece of reassurance. “She can try but she’ll never steal my riches,” you quip. “I’ll be fine, it’s just for fun.”

You shoot him a small smile and then lean in to kiss his cheek before you follow after the Red Priestess, finding a single fire lit on a golden bowl in the middle of the elegant parlor room.

“How much will it cost?” You ask her as you slowly wander to the stand holding the bowl.

“Nothing but your attention,” she shares in a soothing voice. “And a drop of your blood.”

You stop before the bowl and don’t question offering her your hand even if you should, and Kinvara doesn't make it any harder. She’s quick and doesn’t hesitate picking out a single thin needle before gently cupping your hand and poking the sharp end on the pad of your thumb.

When a scarlet drop of blood crawls out of the small wound she pulls your hand over the flames and turns it to face the flames. After the single drop of blood falls in the flames she lets your hand go and throws the needle in the flames to let the fire eat away at it.

“You have fire-made flesh, a gift from the Lord of Light,” she begins to say bluntly.

You would’ve liked to be eased into it, but you’re no expert so you clasp your hands over your belly and watch her eyes read the dancing flames with curiosity.

“You have salt-littered blood and a dragon-made soul that burns fiercely and passionately; she flies high within the clouds in search of something…” she lets the words slip out as if she was chanting a spell, and then meets your gaze across the flames.

You should be intimidated, but you’re just eager to know more.

“…three hearts,” Kinvara adds. “One made of ice, two of fire. Three soul made dragons…”

Three, huh?

“…and loyalty.”

It’s hard to piece anything together but you still can’t help but feel joy, and an overwhelming curiosity that pushes you to pick at one thing that caught your attention. “Three soul-made dragons? Does it mean I’ll have three kids?”

Kinvara smiles sweetly. “Smart girl, but you’ll have seven. The three I see will grow, they’ll know happiness and long lives.” She hums and blinks whilst her smile fades to a smirk. “But sins will burden them and cast over them like shadows.”

Right away your smile fades and for the first time since you saw her, fear begins to crawl across your mind. “What…does that mean?” You ask quietly.

The red priestess lifts her chin and sighs. “You’ll know.”

How insightful.

“One more thing,” she interjects and moves away from her spot to reach you and grab your hands “Fire kills the girl and awakens the dragon. Follow the flames for they are sweet to you since the moment your right was taken.”

You let out a deep breath and nod stiffly. You don’t understand completely, or at all actually, but you nod in comprehension before you just feed one more piece of curiosity. “Could I read the flames as well?”

Kinvara moves back across the flames and points her chin to the fire, encouraging you to try and read what the flames could tell you.

“You might not see your own future, remember that. If you see anything it will only be glimpses,” she lets you know while you step forward and focus your eyes on the bright flames seeming to lure you in; but not like every other time before, this calling is different now, you don’t have the urge to touch the flames or bathe yourself in their fierce beauty.

What calls you now are whispers; unclear, but trying to make sense in their own way.

“Listen,” Kinvara says as if can read your mind. “And open your eyes.”

She can’t mean your actual eyes because those are already open, she must mean it metaphorically or whatever, and as difficult as it seems you draw out a deep breath and focus on nothing else but the dancing flames; you don’t let Aemond come to mind, nor do you think about what was told to you, you narrow your gaze slightly and watch in silence.

After a few moments, you start to grow irritated, but suddenly before that frustration breaks your focus you freeze and catch your breath when you see snow falling. It’s clear as day as if you’re living through what you see.

Something falls with the snow though, something thicker and different in color. It’s slightly intoxicating and brings a stench of fire and smoke with it.

You have the urge to dive deeper to figure out what you see, but the scene changes to more white plains covered in snow, ashes, and bones, and above it stands a woman with silver hair. She stands above it all while a winter storm descends upon her. You see her start to turn her head but before you can make out her face, fire is all you see.

“<A long winter.> Kinvara breaks the silence and pulls your attention back to her.

“<Yes,>” you respond in High Valyrian as it actually makes sense.

The priestess offers you a smile and walks to the door. “It was a pleasure meeting you. I’ll see you again.”

You’re left in so much disbelief that you don’t question what she means by “I’ll see you again.”, you bid her a farewell and return to Aemond.

“I was about to barge in there,” Aemond says in a rush.

You blink repeatedly and meet his gaze with your disbelief still clinging to your features. Aemond notices and grabs your shoulders.

“What is it? What did she do?” He hisses.

You draw out a deep breath and with that push away all your disbelief to not worry him over something that’s not clear.

“Nothing, she simply told me we’ll have seven kids,” you share the only thing that was clear.

Aemond scoffs in disbelief but he leaves it at that. Just as you do.

——

*NOW. WINTERFELL*

When you think of home, Aerion, your mother, and your brothers are what you picture in your mind. They are your home, it doesn’t matter the place, as long as they’re with you that’s what you call home.

But oftentimes, when the word home comes up, when you think about home sometimes you picture these tall grey walls, you see these snow-covered hills, the white skies that stretch for miles and bring icy winds and delicate and beautiful snow. You see grey eyes and a timid smile. You remember the warmth from all the fires lit all day and the warmth his body provides. You think of home and someone who isn’t your husband is all you see. You try to fight it, but your longing is stronger than your will.

Now as you stand in these snowy planes and feel this instant comfort fill your heart all you can think about is how dangerous it is.

You were too hasty to make your suggestion and climb your dragon. You’re only steps away and as heart racing as it is, you also can’t help but strain your heart with anxiety as well.

Letters are completely different than seeing face to face again than feeling his hand grab yours and feeling his lips brush your knuckles. Jacaerys is here but will that stop your deep desires? Will that stop him from being mad at you for being distant and not writing to him anymore? Will that stop that tension?

But why is it that a problem?! You’re married! And you love Aemond, he’s your home too; him and Aerion are your family. A family you built after being apart from your own, and even if you have this new strain, you still want to fix it, you still want to fight for Aemond and your family. You have to be strong for them. You can’t give in to what feels comfortable and what your heart might cry for. You have to be strong. You have to be friends and nothing more.

“It’s snowing,” Jacerys muses as he reaches for a snowflake. “I honestly thought there would be more.”

You glance at the open gates and already imagine him waiting in that courtyard in front of his staff, family, and friends. It’s impossible to ignore two dragons descending in front of your home after hearing about an impending war and a call for a declaration from the Greens.

“It’s a lot colder than I thought it would be down here,” Jacaerys adds to his rambling. “How did you ever do it?”

“Well we are in the North,” you mutter unaware of your tone.

“Oh, no need to get snippy, I know where we are,” your brother remarks.

You sigh and turn to him. “Sorry,” you admit. “It's just what if he says no? It’s almost winter, his people need him here. And what would he gain from supporting one or the other, he could just decide to remain neutral.”

Jacaerys leans forward and tries to be assertive. “He’ll gain the Queen's lifelong gratitude, and a chance to prove his loyalty…he’s a Stark, you know that, they take pride in their loyalty. I don’t see why he’ll turn us away. Do you?”

No, but that’s not really why you’re worried, in one form or the other you just needed to be assured.

“I see your point,” you tell him.

Jacaerys gaze lingers on you to be an assuring brother for a moment longer before it’s time to break away from your running thoughts and growing panic and face Cregan with your head held up high, and a fierce determination on your face.

Yet when you walk past those main gates, that fierce determination is met with inklings of worry. Your head is high, but it’s practiced, it’s years of practice, there's a tension on your shoulders, and your breathing is slightly hitched because of your racing heart making your lungs work overtime.

You try to show your confidence in your stride, you are the Queen's daughter after all, but the closer you get to that courtyard the more you hide behind Jacaerys, as if that will help you avoid anything you’re about to face.

If someone were to guess, they’d say it’s your first time here with the way you’re cowering behind your brother and letting him carry all the confidence and pride for you both, but it’s not. As you trail behind your brother, some people you pass by actually recognize you.

You are Winterfell's luminous sun after all, the warmth and light in the darkest winter storm and lightest snow days, capable of melting the most stubborn ice. To their Lord though you are much more and it’s been easy to notice since the moment your purple dragon was seen. You are the reason he smiles, and the sun that gleams in his grey eyes.

But like the sun you hide. You finally make it to the main courtyard but Jacaerys is the first one seen and almost the only one they can see. You don’t want to come out of hiding because you don’t want to see him.

Your heart is pumping so fast, and your hands are trembling. You can almost feel a tightness grab ahold of your chest.

“Jacaerys,” you call out in a quiet panic.

Said man turns and when he does he uses his whole body to move away from you, in that moment leaving a clear and open view of none other than Cregan Stark. There he stands, tall, proud, and mighty. Grey eyes bright and soft even against his hardened gaze. His pink lips form into the faintest smile that you notice right away because you can’t help it, everyone and everything disappears, leaving only him and you in the snow-covered courtyard.

Not even your initial panic exists anymore, it melts away, and your body eases with a simple look into his familiar eyes. Your once-racing heart slows down, but now flutters and skips a beat, and you can’t stop it. Just like he can’t help himself because here you are again, across from him with light snow perfectly raining over you, eyes so deep and captivating that he loses himself within with ease. Your face is basked by a gleam of light that makes you so much more divine, and a heartwarming smile decorates your perfectly sculpted lips.

Now he knows composure, he knows his place, but in this small escape where only you and him exist, it’s costing everything within him not to break away and capture your lips with his. He just wants to grab and kiss you, but your trance is broken by the sound of your name being announced followed by your house.

“…of House Velaryon, wife of Aemond Targaryen.” And then there's that ridiculous reminder that you are not his anymore.

Luckily that cruel reminder is not with you, instead, there’s another, smaller in stature, but still standing tall and mighty with gold dragon emblems on his belt and on his cloaks broach. He proudly wears the colors black and red which shows who he is without the need of an introduction.

“Prince Jacaerys, of house Velaryon,” the guard still announces the man you’re accompanied with.

“My Prince, my Princess,” Cregan speaks in that thick northern accent that makes your heart swoon. “Welcome to Winterfell.” He bows his head, and the crowd behind him mirrors him.

When he raises his head again and stands tall the first thing he does is meet your gaze. You should glance away and share why you’re here, but you part your lips and only a soft breath comes out as you hold his gaze.

“It’s a pleasure to have you back, Princess,” Cregan addresses you formally, hiding away the history you share. “The North has missed you.”

Your cheeks grow warm, and your lips form a flattered smile before you announce it. “You flatter me, My Lord. I have missed the North, and the snow as well.”

He huffs in amusement and spares a glance at the falling snow. “Well you’re lucky then, it just started to snow. It seems you brought a late summer snow with you.”

You share a breathless giggle, and his eyes share his awe.

“My Lord,” Jacaerys cuts in and reminds you he’s here too.

“Oh right,” you cut in and look at your brother, seeing his eyebrows furrow as he looks at you and then glances at Cregan. You ignore him and grab his arm to go on proudly. “Lord Stark, my brother, and my mother's heir, Jacaerys Velaryon.” You share what he was already told, but it feels right to introduce him yourself again. “Jacaerys, this is Lord Cregan Stark.”

“It's a pleasure, my prince, welcome to the North,” Cregan addresses him kindly, making you smile. “Your sister has told me many tales about you. It’s a pleasure to finally meet you.”

Your brother bows his head. “Likewise, my sister speaks fondly of her stay here too.”

Cregan glances at you and the corner of his lips twitch ever so slightly.

“I do wish I was here under better circumstances to have some of that fun my sister always goes on about,” Jacaerys starts to get to the point, leaving no time to wander. But that’s good, you are here on business, you can’t forget that.

“But unfortunately we are here under orders of the Queen Rhaenyra Targaryen,” Jacaerys proclaims, making the crowd murmur as the whispers they’ve heard are finally confirmed.

Cregan nods stiffly and glances back at his great hall just behind him. “I assumed so,” he says and looks back at Jacaerys and you. “Let’s go talk inside. I’m sure this change of weather is not so agreeable for southerners used to warm summers.”

Jacaerys scoffs softly and nods before he follows Cregan’s lead unaware of the fact that he’s leaving you behind as you’re stopped by some people in the crowd.

“Princess,” a thin middle-aged man who works inside the castle greets you and steals your attention.

“Good sir, John,” you greet him with a smile. “How is your daughter?” You ask as you remember how she had been when you left.

The man nods eagerly and smiles in return. “Very well, my princess. Healthy and strong. The gods let her survive her fever,” he shares and points behind you. You follow his line of gaze and see his daughter in a tall tower watching what you can only assume are the dragons in the distance.

“I told you she’s strong,” you tell him with genuine relief.

“Princess,” one of the cooks addresses you, making you turn to her and smile.

“Ms Maribell,” you turn your attention to her. “I’m glad to see you.”

“And you,” she returns sweetly. “I hear you have a son, where is he now? Why didn’t you bring him?”

You nod. “Yes,” you share excitedly and touch your chest. “Aerion. He’s four months old, but sadly I had to leave him behind with my mother, what I’m out here doing is no place for children I’m afraid. But I do want to bring him after these affairs are in order.”

“When you do, stop by here,” she suggests. “I’m sure he’ll love Winterfell as much as you did.”

You grin and nod, but before you can add more to your friendly conversation, your name cuts through the icy breeze. You look over and see your brother with a pressing look.

“My brother beckons me, I’ll see you all later,” you excuse yourself and offer them a small head bow before you stride to your brother and take his arm.

“<We are not here for a friendly visit,” he whispers sharply in High Valyrian. “I know your history here, but please stay focused.>”

You sigh and look ahead, catching Cregan’s vigilant gaze focused on you after he, unbeknownst to you, watched you interact with his people and treated them like they were your long-lost friends. It honestly fills his heart with a warmth that makes his grey eyes gleam with a joy that you easily notice against his nonchalant expression while he waits for you and your brother.

Since he so often wears a hardened expression on his face it’s hard to know what he feels, but after five years you learned how to read him like a soulmate reads its other half without a need for words. Yet you don't know the exact reason why he was so touched.

“Forgive our delay,” Jacaerys instantly brings up like a proper Prince. “My sister is easily distracted.”

Cregan lets you walk in the great hall first and once the doors close behind him he huffs and responds. “Yes, I remember, so do not worry, my Prince.”

You glance at your brother and pass him a teasing look. He meets your gaze and shoots you a warning glare before he brings you both to a stop just under Lord Stark’s throne.

“I hope the northern winds weren’t too harsh,” Cregan addresses while he walks to his chair.

“Well they were colder the closer we got to Winterfell, but they helped our dragons pick up speed to deliver this message from Queen Rhaenyra Targaryen,” Jacaerys makes a quick workaround to why you’re here.

“Just last night I received an envoy from your uncle who calls himself King as well,” Cregan says as he takes the sealed scroll from Jacaerys.

“No, you got an envoy from a Usurper,” you immediately correct him. “The true ruler is the one the late King Viserys appointed as his heir, Queen Rhaenyra. That never changed nor was it his will for it to change after his death.”

Cregan glances at you and stares at you in silence for a moment as he processes your words before he finally opens the scroll and reads what was written.

“Your father bent the knee to Queen Rhaenyra when she was named heir, and swore that House Stark and the North will follow the line of succession,” Jacaerys adds to the point to try and further convince Cregan. “Now Queen Rhaenyra’s throne was stolen and demands you follow your father's path and stand proudly in support of her rule and war if it arises.”

You have seen so little of your brother's political side since you were reunited, so now that you see it you can’t help but be in awe of the man standing tall beside you, proving himself a worthy heir.

“Your words move me,” Cregan finally interjects as he lowers the scroll to look at Jacaerys and you. “And your presence honors me. Winterfell is almost at the edge of the world, but you still came to deliver this in your mother's regard,” he says and makes some of that tension release from Jacaerys shoulders. “I know of my father's oath to your Queen. I also know how deep disloyalty cuts when it’s made by one’s own kin, your sister was here to witness my uncle usurping my rightful place as Lord…which is why I do not intend to break oath today. The North will not break oath today,” Cregan proclaims confidently and with no falter, relieving your brother of his worry, but not yours.

“But,” Cregan proves your worry worthwhile. “Winter is coming my Prince, my Princess. And these seem almost like family affairs. The Queen has my loyalty, but why should we support this war? My priorities are with my people and providing for them before Winter arrives.”

You and Jacaerys share a conflicted look, but neither of you are stuck on what to say, you're just debating who should speak in your defense. You with an advantage, or Jacaerys with a blunt but respectful tongue?

Honestly, you both probably have great points, but in your speechless exchange, Jacaerys trusts you.

“I understand,” you argue and step forward, gaining all of Cregan’s attention. “I have not lived a true winter, but I understand your hesitance, My Lord. I understand your people need you now more than ever, but the Greens have an advantage, that’s something we can admit, and they will not be afraid to use it against you, and your Queen. They already steal from her, will you stand to see them take more? Will you stand and see your people and lands burnt? Will you sit and do nothing as injustice is acted upon your Queen? Or will you and your people fight for what’s right, and for the greater or good of the North?”

Cregan shifts in his seat and keeps his hardened gaze on you for a long and tense silence. You could read what he might be thinking, but you look at your brother and fall back by his side to wait for a response.

“Your words move me,” Cregan interjects with a small huff. “And leave me a lot to think about. I hope you understand my choice will not be taken lightly, I must speak with my own people on these matters, just be assured that the North supports the rightful Queen.”

Cregan stands from his seat and Jacaerys steps forward to cut in. “How long will we have to wait?”

Cregan raises his chin. “Soon, I swear,” he promises. “As for now, you must be tired from your travel. Baths will be drawn in your quarters, and supper will be served shortly in this hall.”

You draw in a deep breath and much to your surprise you’re the one who grows impatient instead of Jacaerys. “Thank you, My Lord Stark,” you deadpan and bow your head.

Said man catches your tone before the change on your face, but says nothing on the matter. Instead, he walks down and points to the door that leads to your apartments.

Yet before you can make any attempt to walk out, the doors open and a servant carrying a dark-haired child walks in, and without as much as insight to clue you in, you know who the child is right away, you can see it in his familiar dark eyes, and that kind resting face.

“Oh gods,” you muse excitedly and lose all your annoyance in the blink of an eye. “Is this baby Rickon?” You direct at Cregan.

“Yes, this is my boy,” he assures you and you don’t wait for the wet nurse to come to you, you meet her halfway.

“Jacaerys,” you exclaim as you grab the child’s hand with a bright grin. “I helped deliver this child!” You squeal and turn back to the baby.

“I believe it,” your brother mutters.

“Hello little Lord,” you greet the baby a bit too excited. “Look at you, you look like your mother…May I?” You direct at the wet nurse, and she doesn’t hesitate to hand you the child who is a mirror of Arra.

“Hello,” you greet him again a lot softer this time since he looks at you puzzled. “I know you don’t remember me, but I remember you. How old are you now? 1?”

You don’t expect an answer, but the baby does. “Hello.”

You beam at him and caress his head while you share a happy look at Cregan. “I can’t believe it. Words truly aren’t enough, Rickon is so big. I’m so proud.”

“He would’ve been out to greet you but you caught him in his naptime,” he says and steps towards you but keeps his distance.

“He looks like his mother,” you tell him and look back at Rickon, catching him taking the pearls around your neck. “Ah, yes, nice huh?”

“Hello,” he says again, making you laugh and turn to start heading to your quarters with the others trailing behind you. “My Aerion likes my jewelry too,” you tell him. “But he likes to suck on it. You just like to look at it, hm?”

“I reckon this little lord is a lot kinder than your Aerion,” Jacaerys teases as he falls by your side.

You roll your eyes at your brother and reassure Rickon. “Don't listen to him. He’s just mad because Aerion can sense his impatience. He’s very sweet, and I’m sure when he’s older you’ll be great friends. I’ll make sure of it.”

The baby is unbothered by what you say, but you couldn’t be more happier than to see Cregan and your friend's child. He reminds you of Arra, and when you think of Arra you think of where you are, and when you think of where you are all you feel is that comfort embracing you harder, consuming you little by little.

Which is dangerous, you know. The longer you stay here the more you let yourself get consumed by what’s familiar and kind that the reality in the distance becomes easy to forget.

But you can’t. You can’t let yourself feel complete comfort or you’ll run the risk of falling into the temptation you long for the most. Thus when you finish your bath you don’t linger in your borrowed quarters, nor do you explore what you left behind out of curiosity to see what’s new, you act as if you’ll be leaving any minute and visit where Arra was put to rest.

Yet that temptation finds you there and puts it all at risk. You don’t know about his looming presence until you turn away from Arra’s tomb.

“Lord Stark,” you gasp.

Cregan bows his head. “Forgive me I did not mean to startle you, I did not want to interrupt your moment that's all.”

You laugh nervously and glance back at Arra’s tomb. “If I did not visit her while I was here she would haunt me.”

Cregan hums and you stop avoiding his gaze to look into his grey eyes.

You had hoped to contain yourself, but in the silence that falls as you just look at one another, you can’t contain your joy, it takes over you and before you know it you’re beaming like a shining sun and striding over to him.

Cregan gives in the moment you break and meets you halfway with a tight and warm embrace.

“I had come to terms with not seeing you again,” Cregan breaks the silence first as he holds onto you.

“Me too. I really did not think I would see you again,” you murmur excitedly and hold on for longer than either of you wanted to. You just can’t seem to let go even if there's a shared silence in which you keep in words that you both are aching to say and just add tension.

“I…I’m happy to see you again,” he says instead and pulls back to face you

“You grew out your hair,” you point out to change the subject. “You said long hair was for barbarians.”

Cregan chuckles, and you smirk. “Well, I thought I could try it out,” he says. “And it keeps my neck warm.”

You study his brown hair that falls just above his shoulders and let yourself have this one thing. “I like it. It suits you well.”

Cregan offers you a thankful nod and takes this time to study you closely again. “You seem happier this time around,” he points out.

You scoff. “What are you saying? Did I look miserable when I got here six years ago?” You tease lightheartedly.

Cregan nods. “Yes. You did. This time you look happy though.”

You sigh and glance at the exit as if you’d see your brother. “Yes, well my brother is here. As annoying as he can be, I am happy he came with me.”

“Mhm.”

You smile softly in response and to avoid staring too long into his eyes you start to walk out. But for a few seconds as you walk aimlessly there’s a silence that lingers until he finds what to say. “Arra’s friend came to see me a few days after you left.”

You glance at him with a curious gaze and probe. “Why?”

He exhales deeply and confides in you what he hasn't had the heart to share in letters. “She came to blame me for her death. She said I was the reason she died.”

You come to an immediate halt, and he follows suit and slowly turns to face your sorrowful face.

“She was hurt, Cregan. It was not your fault. She was just grieving,” you try to comfort him even if he didn’t ask for it because you know how much guilt he already carries for Arra’s death and because you can't stand hearing him blame himself.

“Well, there is some truth to it is there not?” He says breathily and averts his gaze.

You draw in a deep breath and reach out, but before you can touch his arm you clasp your hands and fiddle with your ring. “No. There is not,” you say firmly. “Childbirth is not easy. I hate to admit it but her loss is common. It cannot be helped, so no it is not your fault. Arra’s friend was just grieving the woman she loved.”

Cregan blinks and meets your gaze with gratitude behind his perked lips but hesitation in his grey eyes. You don’t think he’s going to say anything and leave it as him just processing what you said, but as you continue walking side by side he finally interjects hesitantly.

“Your son…how is he?” He asks as if it pains him to actually ask.

You smile proudly. “Good. Spoiled endlessly by all the love my mother is giving him, but he’s good,” you muse. “I wish you could have met him.”

Cregan swallows thickly and finds it in himself to speak. “I wish I could have seen him too, I am sure he looks like you.”

You meet his gaze briefly and nod with glee.

There's so much you can say at this moment, but there’s also so much you can’t say that you end up in this battle of not knowing what you should do. Should you touch into this past that you need to keep closed? Or leave it all unspoken and just filled with tension that threatens to overflow and break you both?

No one would have to know. You could speak about this unspoken past you both cherish…But! Then you think of Aerion, and when you think of your son, you think of his father and once again, you still want to fight for this relationship even if you stand on opposite sides now.

Thus you leave it untouched and just lean towards something else.

However, when you speak Cregan’s name to address something else he also speaks your name, leaving you at a crossroads he luckily lets you cross first. “About why I came—”

“Did you come to sweet talk me, princess?” He cuts in and does assume right, but that’s not what you’re going to say.

“Maybe,” you laugh breathlessly and exhale deeply to get at what you want to say. “But look, I understand you’re needed here, your people are your priority. Winter is dangerous, which is why we won’t ask for a lot. We’re proud and honored to get your loyalty, but anything you can spare will help. We may have more dragons, but they lack experience in war, unlike Vhagar.”

Cregan nods in comprehension and does assure you honestly. “I meant when I said I’ll try. I want to help the Queen, I swear. Let me just see what I can spare, winter is not friendly, winter is cruel, you know that.”

More than most…and more than he knows…

“I know.” You agree softly. “How long will that take?”

He sighs and shrugs. “A couple of days. Not long. Why are you in a hurry?”

You drag your gaze over to pass him a knowing glance because he knows that your presence means much more than anyone knows, and it brings risks.

Still, he smirks faintly at you.

“I will say,” you admit and smile at him. “I am glad to be back in the North. I missed it. It’s so loud in Kings Landing compared to here. And the view from my chambers?!” You exclaim without a care in the world. “Over there it’s busy streets, and here it’s serene hills.”

Cregan chuckles softly. “I told you there’s no place for you so far South anymore. You bring your son here and it is over for you.”

You laugh and nod. “I do love the sun though, and a sea in which I can swim in!” You nudge his arm, and he leans to the side with a smile.

“I will bring the warm sea here, I told you.”

You snort and shake your head. “While I'm here we need to show Jacaerys some of the fun we would have. I want him to see some part of Winterfell before we leave.”

Of course, Cregan doesn’t argue, he gives in but when he meets your gaze from the corner of his eyes he grows sweet and smug. “Not all the fun though?”

You hold his gaze and shake your head. “No. Not all the fun.”

He hums and looks at you with a dangerous longing look that you quickly look away from.

“Ice fishing?” You suggest.

“You have an entire day to waste?” He brings up and clears his throat.

You hum in agreement and stroke your chin, unaware of the fact that you’re being walked into the great hall.

“Owl hunting?” Cregan teases in that stern nonchalance, and you can’t help but burst out laughing as you remember what he means by that.

“You think you’re funny huh?”

“You just laughed.”

You shake your head and grab his arm to laugh more and much harder.

“I can’t believe you fell for it the first time.” He keeps taunting you.

You stand tall and throw out an excuse. “I was young.”

Cregan looks at you with his eyebrows furrowed and you look at him and laugh again, unaware of how lost you were until you hear your brother.

“Sister. Where have you been? I’ve been looking for you.”

You blink repeatedly and catch your breath before you point back at where you came from. “I visited a friend, Arra, remember? I needed to go visit her resting place before we left.”

Your whereabouts don’t really matter anymore, he was worried when he knocked on your door and you didn’t answer, but now what he finds more interesting is who you walk in with. He looks between the both of you full of curiosity and takes note of the way you walked in laughing, as well as the smile you wear, and the faint one that decorates the Lord's lips.

“I hope you are both hungry,” Cregan interjects while you come to a stop in front of the grand table. “We had something prepared for your welcome.”

“That’s nice—”

“We’re starving,” you cut your brother off bluntly and make your way around the table. “Flying for so long isn’t only draining for our dragons, but for us too.”

You approach Jacaerys and he surprises you by pulling a chair out for you. “Oh,” you praise his gesture. “Thank you, Jace.”

When you sit though he doesn’t walk around Cregan's seat like he should have, he makes sure to sit at your other side, leaving you in between both men.

“<What are you doing?>” You demand to know in High Valyrian.

Jacaerys pulls in his chair close to the table and looks at you to whisper back. “<Sitting.>”

You blink and lean your head back with a teasing smile playing on your lips. “<Are you nervous?>”

He squints and rebuttals immediately. “<What? Why should I be?>”

You’re choosing to be too naive and pat his shoulder. “<Your big sister is here do not worry.>”

He swats your hand away, and you steal a glance over at Cregan taking his seat beside you

“How many days do you have to be here before your husband sends you a raven?” Jacaerys fills the silence.

At first, you don’t want to entertain his question, he’s only going to make fun of Aemond, but you give him an assumption to be nice. “Three days. The last thing he wrote was, ‘come home now. Your place is here.’ And that was before we left the Eyrie.”

Jacaerys leans in and continues. “Has he actually written that he misses you?”

You hold his gaze and part your lips to argue in your husband's defense, but those words have not been written on paper so you don't rebuttal Jacaerys, you deflect. “Have you tried to make a move on Baela?”

Jacaerys clenches his jaw and speaks through gritted teeth. “What are you on about?”

You grab the cup in front of you and shrug. “What? She is your betrothed, it's okay to sneak off and you know, have a little fun.”

“Stop it.”

You take a sip of your drink and lean towards him. “When we get home I will play a game and lock you both in a room—oh! No! I’m brilliant!” You exclaim and push yourself back, making him grimace.

“Shut up.”

“Nothing boosts romance more than a fun little adventure, just you and her alone,” you share excitedly without shame that you’re talking to your brother about romance as if he were a lady. The gods didn’t give you sisters, just five brothers, so you have to make the best of what you have. “I will throw you out of the castle to go fetch dragon eggs, or you know, something fun.”

“You’re childish,” he snaps at you under his breath.

You exhale deeply and sit back proudly. “And when your wedding comes I will be paralyzed with joy. Unless she marries one of our Velaryon cousins,” you finish in a whisper to just light a small fire under his ass.

“What?” Jacaerys asks in a shocked whisper, which you ignore to share an amused smile with Cregan.

“Princess,” you hear someone call before you see Lady Maribell approaching with servants carrying supper. “We made your favorite to welcome you and the Prince.”

You watch your plate get put down with a big appetite and then look at Lady Maribell and touch your chest. “Thank you, ma’am, I’ll make sure to savor it well.”

The lady bows her head and leaves the hall, letting you appreciate your supper and the fact that these people took the time to prepare your favorite meal by their own will, or for the wishes of someone else, you don’t know, but it’s a huge difference with the way you get treated in the Red Keep.

“I would like to make a toast,” Cregan’s voice booms throughout the hall as he stands up, pulling the attention of those gathered in the hall. “To the Prince and Princess. Welcome to Winterfell, you honor not only me but the entire North for coming in person in the Queen's regard…”

You smile up at Cregan before you share your joy with Jacaerys.

“Your stay will not be long, but we will do our best to make you feel at home,” Cregan continues before he looks over Jacaerys. “The North may be a drastic change, but it is beautiful. I hope you learn to grow fond of it just as much as your sister has.”

You don’t check Jacaerys reaction, you meet Cregan's gaze and follow him all the way down to his seat with a soft appreciative smile, while his own gaze softens…for a moment, because his gaze then drifts over your shoulder and it loses that gentle touch.

You follow his line of gaze and meet your brother's thankful but slightly narrowed look that he holds with a smile. And as to not make suspect something you raise your cup to him.

He returns the gesture before looking past you again, making you now look at your steaming food and let out a slow deep breath as you try to remind yourself to keep yourself contained. In doing so, albeit you remember the tragic dinner you had at King's Landing not many nights ago and you now start to feel amused by the memory.

You happen to let your gaze wander over to your brother in the midst, and he slowly locks eyes with you. Silence follows for a moment, but then as if mentally tangled with your thoughts you both start to giggle before you chuckle together.

“Man,” he says between laughs. “I wish I would have seen your right hook. I missed it!”

You cover your mouth and stifle the laugh you want to let out and respond. “He was so shocked! I was holding that in for so long!”

You snort and lean towards each other. “It was such a mess from the start, but I applaud your toast. That was smooth.”

“Really? Thank you, I think I landed it too.” He takes your compliment and you both laugh together again before he grabs your shoulder and turns you towards the man at your other side.

“Lord Stark,” he happily drags Cregan into the conversation. “Considering you are friends with my sister, I will tell you a great feat she completed a few nights ago on our last night at Kings Landing.”

You shake your head lightheartedly and lick your lips as you catch your breath.

“To make this story short, one thing led to another and my sister landed a right hook on the usurper,” Jacaerys shares, making the corner of Cregan's lips twitch.

“He slammed our brother's face into the table,” you try to give reason to your actions. “I acted. My rings helped too.”

Jacaerys laughs softly and you meet his gaze and smile wide.

“It seems like an impressive feat indeed,” Cregan says and lets his gaze linger on you. “But I cannot say it surprises me, your sister has never been one to recoil from such things. I’d say she's fond of it.”

“Too much,” Jacaerys remarks. “It is why she would always get in trouble.”

Cregan huffs softly and meets your gaze. “I only wish I could have seen it,” he says directly at you while also letting your brother hear.

You can’t help your deep breath, or stop your face from burning under his impressed gaze. You don't say anything but luckily that conversation leads to a lighthearted dinner where Jacaerys and Cregan start to talk more instead of just passing glances.

Unfortunately, you do the one thing you told yourself you didn’t want to do, and that’s losing yourself in the bliss that comes with interacting with your brother and Cregan, the man you…have a secret past with.

You thought you could do better, you wanted not to get lost at all, but it pulled you down rather quickly and you couldn’t fight it. Especially because there’s something about seeing Cregan interact with your brother without tension or disdain, that makes your heart swoon.

“Jacaerys,” you blurt and turn to him. “Let’s dance.”

His eyebrows pinch together and he shakes his head before he answers. “What? No!”

You ignore him and jump from your seat to grab his arm and pull him with you to the center without as much as a protest. He likes to act all tough and nonchalant in front of others but he’s a big sweetheart when it comes to you and your brothers.

And he proves that further when he doesn’t fail to make you smile when you’re dancing slowly at first to follow the beat of the music that plays in the corner. When the music picks up he becomes faster but disregards the actual beat to start spinning you around the room.

“That’s not how you dance this!” You remark without much meaning behind your words. “You’re going to get me drunk!”

“You can handle it. You love it!” He assumes right and goes faster around the room without that initial worry of being judged or carrying this tough and proper image.

Neither of you actually find a worry in the world, it’s just him and you in that moment, laughing, and unaware of the pair of grey eyes that follow you all around the room. People talk to him, and a commotion surrounds him but Cregan finds a way to keep watching you laugh with your brother as he takes you around the room.

He should feel somewhat upset that your brother is bringing this different kind of joy out of you that he never saw when it was just you and him, but his heart only fills with bliss as he sees you so overjoyed. He knew how much you missed your family when you were living in Winterfell, so how can he be upset and petty that you’re so drunk with bliss by your brother's company?

Only a fool would refuse you this joy.

“Princess!”

You come to a quick halt and give your attention to the one who seeks it; catching Ser Rolf, one of your greatest friends just past the door.

“Ser Rolf!” You greet once you know who has beckoned you, and let your brother go to rush to your friend.

“I heard you were here and I came as fast as I could,” he says and answers your curiosity as to where he’s been before you had the chance to ask. “I almost feared I missed you.”

You shake your head. “No, you got lucky. Come!” You pull him with you to return to your brother. “Ser Rolf, this is my brother, Prince Jacaerys Velaryon.” You immediately introduce them.

“My Prince,” Ser Rolf greets him properly.

“Jace, this is one of my greatest friends from here, Ser Rolf,” you explain. “He went to my engagement tourney and played in my honor.”

Ser Rolf scoffs. “Well, I needed to show off my skills, and not let you Southerners forget how talented we can be.”

You smile at him and you both purposely leave out the other reason why he had gone.

“It's nice to finally meet you,” Ser Rolf directs at your brother. “Your sister often spoke fondly of you and the rest of your family.”

“Did she?” Jacaerys presses and flashes you a smug smirk. “When we return to our brothers I’m proudly going to use that over her head.”

Ser Rolf laughs and nudges you, and you roll your eyes.

“Do you mind if I steal your sister from you, My Prince?” Ser Rolf asks.

Said man shakes his head. “Not at all, go ahead, I need to step out anyway. I will be back.”

You offer him a comprehensive smile and watch him leave the hall before you face your friend. “Are you going to dance with me?”

Ser Rolf scoffs. “No. Unless it’s a command.”

You smile in amusement and shake your head. “Never to you.”

“Good, I may be swift with a sword, but I'm afraid I'm not a gifted dancer. My wife can attest to that,” he breathes out and points his hand away from the crowd of people dancing to walk away together.

“How is your family?” You ask.

Your friend looks at you and smiles sweetly for the first time tonight. “Good. My girl is a year old and a delight. You have a son, I heard.”

You clasp your hands together and nod. “Yes, Aerion. He’s four months old, and his father's pride.” You share now that you can share it with someone since so many details about your son felt wrong being shared with Cregan.

“About…the father,” Ser Rolf picks on that matter as he sits around the first table you see. “I hope my actions in that tournament did not get you in trouble. I saw him later that night at a feast after the tournament was over.”

You sit down first and sigh before you shake your head. “No. Do not worry…was he…” you trail off and glance at the ring Aemond gave you to fiddle with it. “…with anyone?”

You can feel Ser Rolf press his gaze on you, but you avoid it and wait, even if you shouldn’t considering who’s occupying your mind now too.

“No,” Ser Rolf answers hesitantly, making your heart skip a beat. “He was lurking in the corner watching over the other silver-haired Prince.”

You swallow back nervously and meet your friend's gaze to press him since he didn’t sound convincing. “Tell me, Rolf. I can take the truth. I mean look at me, I’m on opposite sides of this war.”

Ser Rolf quickly shakes his head and looks at you with a pitiful look. “I swear it, Princess. He was lurking the entire night. When his brother brought in women and tried to gift him one as an engagement present, he finally left.”

You let out a relieved sigh and nod in comprehension, feeling a lot more assured now than before. “Thank you, my friend.”

“Of course.”

You feel it now…how much you’re starting to miss Aemond. Which is all so conflicting, but you admit it, you miss your husband, especially when it’s just you and him. That’s when he lets his guard down and lets out this person he keeps within; this sweet, affectionate, and amusing person that knows how to love you in the way you want to be loved, and knows the deepest parts of you, while he lets you know his.

He doesn’t hide his love for you in public, he's not overly affectionate but he makes it known that you’re all his and he’s all yours. And perhaps that makes you a little too attached to one another, but you take pride in it and never feel alone.

But…

Yes, there’s a but when you’re in Winterfell, when Cregan is close, and when he comes to mind. You can’t let Cregan go. The love you shared was so consuming, it was full of passion, it was exciting, and it had so much to give that no matter what, you could never get enough of one another.

But that's it isn't it? Was. You need to let go.

“How are you…holding up?” Ser Rolf breaks you from your troubled mind and only makes you confused. “With…you know…” he trails off and points to the side.

You follow his line of gaze and realize that he’s referring to Cregan.

“Rolf,” you warn him, making him laugh.

“He’s finally smiling,” he makes matters worse and makes you smile down at the table while your stupid heart skips a beat.

“He hasn’t been with anyone,” Ser Rolf clarifies and you snap your eyes at him and kick his shin.

“Stop.”

Rolf smirks and rubs his wounded area, while your eyes wander to the man you’re talking about, and you see him leaving the hall.

You almost find it in you to follow him out, but what will that bring? Nothing but temptation. You did good before when it was just him and you, but the stars are out, and the snow blankets the ground, it will feel like one of those nights when you would admire the sky in each other's embrace, and you’ll probably lose it, so you stay put and keep talking to your friend while also watching for your brother.

Eventually, more of Cregan's friends join Ser Rolf and you, but as much as you enjoy their company you can’t rest easy without knowing about your brother. He left a while ago and hasn’t returned. He would’ve told you if he went to bed, but he hasn’t. He said he needed to step out and hasn’t returned.

Maybe he froze out there since all he’s used to is a chill—but more seriously you should go check on him.

You stand up and just as you’re going to excuse yourself you catch your brother walking inside in front of Cregan.

They approach the table and you want to ask about your brother's whereabouts, but Cregan interjects. “I've decided we could take him hunting tomorrow morning and have lunch there, so he can know some of the North’s wilderness.”

You look at your brother and he gives you an assuring nod. And considering Cregan hasn’t given you an answer you have no choice but to accept. “Very well then.”

“I might’ve overshared with your brother just now,” Cregan continues to direct at you as you step back and sit back down.

“No, no,” Jacaerys shakes his head. “He glorified.”

You cross your leg over the other and press them. “What?”

Cregan glances at your brother and then looks back at you. “I might have praised your archery skills on dragonback.”

You smile at Cregan and pass your brother a cocky look. “It’s true. I am an excellent shot on Dragonback, but I cannot take all the credit, Astraea helps me when she flies. I think Lord Stark is just too in awe of the dragon itself.”

Cregan huffs and points his chin at you. “You are being too humble. You deserve the praise, not anyone can hit the target while moving, especially while flying. And you like to stand, which, that alone deserves its own praise.”

You shake your head. “You flatter me too much.”

“But I do suppose the same cannot be said about your traps. She almost caught her own leg once,” he shares a bit too amused. “Arra caught her in time.”

You shake your head. “It was not my fault,” you rebuttal. “You were distracting me. Hunting is done in silence and you distracted me.”

Cregan scoffs. “Are we talking about the same day?” He teases. “You are remembering wrong. I did not do such a thing.”

You touch your chest and slowly get up. “Lord Stark, are you calling me a liar?”

He shakes his head. “Admit it, you could have used help.”

You inhale deeply and nod. “Only if you admit you spoiled our bait for that fishing evening on your name day.”

Cregan parts his lips but he can’t deny you so he presses his lips together and nods slowly, causing you to nod in return, and share a mutual agreement to your questions through shared glances that you don’t break. There in the middle of your friends and brother, you look at each other as if it’s only you and him in that hall, in this world entirely. You exist only for each other.

Until the reminder tears it all down and pulls you back into reality. “Sister why don’t you sing us a song,” Jacaerys exposes you.

“What?” You gasp and ignore all the looks you get.

Jacaerys nods. “It seems fitting. It’s still early, I think it would be nice for you to fill the hall with your song.”

You blink repeatedly and shake your head quickly hoping he’ll get the hint, but he does the opposite as if purposely torturing you. “Wait…you have not sung here?”

You stay quiet and spare a glance at Cregan who is too amused by what’s going on.

“Wow…” Jacaerys trails off to chuckle before he faces the crowd of your friends and Cregan. “That is why she is called the Siren of Driftmark.”

You bite the inside of your cheek and groan.

“I thought you said it was because you were a good swimmer,” Ser Rolf points out.

You shake your head. “No,” you grumble.

Jacaerys moves over to you to grab your shoulder and shake you gently. “She’s really good. She sings all the time,” he praises you. “She just sang the other day when we got to Dragonstone.”

You shake your head and feign a smile. “No, no, my brother is being too nice. He’s exaggerating.” You laugh and then turn to your brother to shoot him a burning glare. “You’re exaggerating,” you sneer at him through gritted teeth.

Jacaerys chuckles and pushes you forward. “Sing us a song. Come on!”

You share a breathless chuckle and turn on your heels to point back at your brother. “I would not want you to cry,” you reveal and glance at the crowd. “When he was a boy he would hide at the back of the crowd so no one would see him cry when I sang.”

Jacaerys doesn’t give you the satisfaction of being flustered, he just smiles, and Cregan steps in.

“Come on, prove your name, princess.”

You pass him a glare and sigh deeply.

“Just one,” Cregan insists with a sweet and intrigued look that really makes it hard to say no to.

“Fine…” you give him brugrudgly. “But…I’ll sing a Sea Shanty. One father liked to sing with us, Jacaerys, so you can sing with me.” You smirk.

Your brother is quick though and shakes his head. “No, no, anyone happy enough can sing a Sea Shanty. Sing a different song.”

“You’ll be surprised not everyone can,” you murmur and stare at your brother with a piercing glare but don’t argue now. You’ll get nowhere, so you begin to step away from the crowd. “Only if you do it,” you protest and turn back to your brother.

“No,” he snaps.

“Do what?” Ser Rolf probes.

You grab your brother's arm and he gives your friend the answer. “Our father would present her to the crowd as if she was a famous singer before she sang.”

You nod eagerly and shake him, but he shakes his head to deny you of such a pleasure.

“I’ll do it,” Ser Rolf volunteers and takes you with him, but leaves you at the side as he runs to the center and steals everyone’s attention.

“Can I get everyone’s attention please! Tonight we have a special guest blessing this hall with her song! May I present the Siren of Driftmark!” He shouts and you don’t shy away or protest now, you run to the center, and bow to the crowd while you spread your arms out like a dragon spreads its wings.

“Hello, Winterfell!” You address the crowd and stand tall without a hint of smugness or your nose in the air to show your royal status, you show off a charm that hasn’t been seen in this hall and gains all the wavering attention to you, as if you were born to lead the masses. “Now, now I know what you may be wondering! Can she really sing, she’s never proved that to us! But,” you laugh softly. “I promise that I at least will not make your ears bleed.”

The crowd laughs and a warm look grows on the serious Lord’s face.

“This song goes to my brother who accompanies me this time around,” you let it be known so you don’t share all the attention. “And of course to your Lord Stark. Thank you for hosting us tonight, my friend.”

You flash him a smile and he nods gently in return, unable to keep his eyes off as you whisper to the band in the corner. He follows your every step with a curiosity that grows only as you clear your throat, take in the crowd that’s gathered in the hall, and draw out a deep breath, because after you part your lips and start to sing softly for all the crowd to hear, all he knows is complete awe as you grow louder and more enchanting with your song.

You become one with yourself and it makes it impossible for anyone to turn away, all the attention is on you as if you were a real-life siren. Yet no matter how many eyes watch you, how surprised and amazed everyone is, and how that prides you, all your attention falls on one man who only watches you with awe, because in this hall it’s just you and him once again.

——

*THE NEXT DAY*

Fishing has never been your strength, you enjoy the quality time when you go with someone, but besides that, you aren’t patient enough to wait for a fish to take the bait.

It’s why as you watch the blue fish in murky waters you make sure to stay out of the water as you slowly pick up your bow, and align your arrow, hoping it won’t hear you and swim off somehow.

Albeit the fish with blue scales moves, making you hold your breath and wait…

Good thing it just moves under the sunbeam that casts in the water. Now though, you do feel guilty for trying to kill it, it’s so beautiful, its scales glimmer a deep blue against the sun like the prettiest gems are stuck to it.

Yet a fish is all it is.

Before you can shoot though, the fish swims away quickly. “Damn, damn,” you hiss and move your aim along with its hasty movements to not let it get out of sight. And just before it can escape into the shallow river, you let the arrow go and luckily shoot the fish right through its eye.

“Haha,” you celebrate to yourself and throw your bow aside to pull your fur cloak off and leave it on the giant rock so it doesn't get wet when you step into the water.

“Oh,” you gasp at the icy touch and rush to grab the fish on the tips of your feet whilst letting out quick ‘oh’s at the cold touch of the water.

However, before you can attempt to turn and run out of the water you catch a branch snap behind you and stiffen.

There's only two people it can be, but you’re still so nervous that the Greens are going to find you that your mind panics and quickly makes you reach for your dagger around your belt.

When you hold the handle you slowly peer back and gasp when you just see Cregan. “Gods,” you breathe out and let the dagger go. “You startled me.”

Cregan finally walks out of the tree line and puts his hands up. “Forgive me, I didn’t want to interrupt your moment. Forgive me.”

You laugh nervously and walk out of the water with relief, and your trophy in hand.

“You’ve been on edge lately,” he points out as he watches you trade your trophy for your cloak.

You sigh. “With this impending war, my husband and his family have been insistent on getting me and Aerion back to King's Landing, that I fear they’ll be in every corner I turn,” you share as you hang your cloak around your shoulders.

Cregan drops his head and nods gently. “Well, no Greens will reach you here. You have my word.”

He looks up and you meet his gaze and offer him a gentle and thankful smile before you grab your arrow from the rock and show off your prize. “I promised my little brother Joffrey we would go fishing, but I think this way is more effective, do you not think?”

Cregan gets closer and tilts his head to the side to shrug. “Can’t say it’ll be called fishing if that’s the way you go.”

You scoff and flick your wrist to brush him off. “Sure it is, we will just use a bow and arrow to catch our fish. I don’t want to wait hours to get one on a hook.”

Cregan huffs and you take that as a challenge. “But I know fishing in the extreme is not for everyone.”

A faint smile breaks on his face and he remarks. “Who do you think you are talking to exactly?”

You shrug and pick up your bow to offer it to him. “Prove your skill, Lord Stark.”

Without further argument, Cregan takes the bow and narrows his gaze. “You know how much I hate it when you’re so formal with me,” he remarks.

You shoot him a simple teasing smile and let the bow go to fall by his side instead. “Alright there’s one right across from us,” you whisper as you hand him an arrow. “Quietly.”

Cregan aligns his arrow and tilts his head down toward you. “Who taught you to hunt?” He picks on your comment.

You lift your gaze, catching the gleam in his eyes, and giggle. His gaze lingers, threatening to drive your heart mad so you look down first and he follows your gaze to follow his prey. When he thinks he has the right angle to catch the fish he lets the arrow go, but the wooden weapon whizzes to the fish's side and only works to startle it away.

“Aha!” You blurt and grab his arm. “I told you. Skill!”

“Oh, hush you,” he brushes you off with a grin before he walks over to collect your arrow. “Oh, by the way, singing?! How come you never told me?”

You sit back on the giant rock and shrug. “One, because I was quite timid to sing to you,” you admit and make him smile at the ground. “And two…after my father died…I just lost my heart to sing. It did not feel right.”

Cregan steps out of the water and his smile fades to show his comprehension. “I understand,” he says quietly and puts your arrow bag in the leather holster.

“I would sing for my grandfather Viserys when I returned to the Red Keep, but I didn’t have a heart to sing until I had Aerion,” you muse as you miss your boy. “He made me find my voice again. And now he falls asleep to my song.”

“What a lucky lad,” Cregan says and steps toward. “You have a beautiful voice. I understand why you got your name.”

A warmth creeps on your cheeks and you smile at the rock beneath you. “Thank you,” you whisper. “And don’t take it as something I hid from you, you are just learning something new from me.”

He hums softly and adds. “It’s just a way to keep me on my toes, I respect that.”

You return his hum and blink to look over at him, catching his watchful gaze, and feeling at that moment a need to entrust him with something that’s been troubling you, something that didn’t satisfy you when you spoke about it to your grandmother.

“Can I ask you something?” You ask hesitantly. “If it makes you uncomfortable, tell me, all right?”

Cregan shifts in his stance and nods without hesitation. “It’s all right, go on,” he assures you to keep going.

You avert your gaze and fiddle with the ring that Aemond gifted you. “It’s just,” you breathe out and make sure Jacaerys isn’t approaching before you continue. “You’re the most loyal man I know. Your oaths are everything to you,” you tell him, making him slowly sit down beside you. “So can you tell me where my loyalties should lie? Should I return to my husband? Especially now that we have a child should I follow him blindly? Growing up, the Septa’s would plague me with how to be a good wife, Alicent makes indirect comments all the time, it's my job as a woman to be a loyal wife, but…” you trail off and look up at the sky and exhale shakily.

“I love my mother, I love my family, and I know she’s the one who belongs on the throne,” you continue to confide in him. “It was stolen from her, nothing will ever make me look at that differently. I will follow her rule, but…Aemond is my husband. He stands loyally on the other side, shouldn’t I stand by his side? Follow him blindly?” You ask from the depths of your torn heart and drop your gaze to look at Cregan with an aching look that wounds his heart.

“He might be your husband, and you may have a responsibility to him now that should come over your mother, but you still have your beliefs,” Cregan says with sincerity since he knows that all you need now is a friend, not a jealous ex-lover. “What you want still matters. And you know what you want to do, I hear it now, I see it with my own eyes. Don't betray yourself just because you don’t want to disappoint one or the other,” he reassures you softly and leans closer to you without actually touching your hand that’s pressed on the rock next to his, he doesn’t let his breath unfurl over your skin, or let his lips brush against your cheek. He just gets his face closer so you can feel his comfort.

“Would you do it?” You can’t help but ask. “Would you go against your wife if she was on opposite sides of a war?”

Cregan sighs deeply and doesn’t debate his answer, he nods, and you add something that pains him to hear because he knows what it really means. “Even if you loved her?”

Cregan swallows thickly but he doesn’t let his eyes fall, he nods stiffly. “If it was the right thing to do, yes. Even if it pained me.”

You drift your gaze away and nod, hoping you can beat the stinging in your throat, but tears fall from your eyes.

“It’s okay,” he whispers. “It will be okay.”

You sniffle and meet his gaze to probe speechlessly.

Cregan understands your gesture and nods, making you offer him a gentle smile and lean towards him. “Thank you, Cregan. It really means a lot.”

“Of course,” he says with a caring look that works to assure the doubt and lift the weight you’ve been carrying on your shoulders since you found out what happened.

“Thank you,” you add much to his surprise and yours while letting yourself grab his hand. “For loving me.”

Cregan stares at you for a lingering moment with his eyebrows furrowing and unknotting with every emotion that runs through his mind and makes his heart race. “I would do it again, it was my honor,” he speaks softly.

Your bottom lip trembles but you don't cry, you let your head fall on his shoulder for a brief second to express the deep unspoken love that you’ll never actually be able to let go. It’ll forever be scarred in your soul.

And that’s all you could ask for in this world full of horrors. Even if there's no proper goodbye, and there’s so much left untouched, this moment is all you could ever want, it welcomes a comforting silence that brings a smile to your face as you both watch the serene environment.

“We should find your brother,” Cregan breaks the silence after a long moment of being selfish.

You hesitate for a moment but you slide off the rock and collect your stuff before you lead the way back into the forest.

“Do you…” Cregan starts to say while he helps you by carrying the fish you caught. “Still dream of flying to faraway places?”

You keep your eyes out for your brother and purse your lips together as you sigh. “Would you be disappointed if I said I did? Only sometimes though.”

Cregan chuckles. “No, of course not. I’m glad you still do. Where to?”

You suck in air and twirl around to face him as you walk back. “Maybe,” you breathe out and happily share what he wants to know. “Yi Ti. I was given this beautiful gem necklace from there and I’ve been completely enamored by the place ever since. It’s said princes live in solid gold houses.” You nod eagerly, making him scoff.

“My most favorite gowns are made of silks from Yi Ti,” you muse and turn back around on your heels. “Some I have yet to wear because I have been saving them. Hopefully, I get to wear one soon! Don’t worry though my feet are still on the ground,” you make sure to assure Cregan. “I have not forgotten what I learned here.”

You hear him hum before he mutters. “I’m quite curious about these expensive gowns.”

Your breath catches in surprise and you peer over to shoot him a pointed look. He responds by flashing you a charming smile that makes you roll your eyes and hold back your smile.

Thankfully in that next moment, you spot your brother in the distance and force all your focus on him.

Jacaerys doesn’t seem to spot you right away though, so after a quick and brilliant idea hits you you leave Cregan behind to sneak around Jacaerys. Once you get close and he’s made some distance from the tree you’re hiding behind, you slip out and avoid stepping on all the branches and dry leaves. When you’re close enough you bite back your smile and raise your hands to jump on his back, but much to your misfortune he’s too perceptive and ruins your plan. “I saw your foot behind the tree.”

You blow out air and drop your arms with a pout. Jacaerys turns and spots Cregan walking out of the shadows first before he faces you and shows off the rabbits he caught. “What did you catch?”

You frown deeper and point at the single fish, making him chuckle. “That’s all?! I thought you were some great hunter!”

You roll your eyes and sputter out an excuse. “Well, I did see some rabbits but I didn’t want to kill them, they were adorable.”

And you can’t say Cregan distracted you either, for the most part, you were just walking and taking in the sights you left behind last year.

“Uh-huh.” Jacaerys nods with a smug smile on his face. “Sure,” he quips. “You are such a girl.”

You roll your eyes and wave him off before you get ahead of the group and lead the way to a distant clearing where you’ll have lunch. “A few months back,” you share to fill the silence and avoid your previous topic. “I was at the market street and on our way back I ran into this Red priestess.”

“A witch,” Jacaerys corrects you, causing you to turn around and counter.

“No, a red priestess. Calling them witches is kind of mean.”

Jacaerys scoffs and turns to Cregan for support. “I say witches, what do you call them here, Lord Stark?”

Said man grabs his blade hooked on his belt and meets your brother's gaze with a hidden smugness behind his eyes. “Witches, but sometimes we call them pretenders, depending on the price.”

Jacaerys chuckles and you know they’re obviously just working against you so you choose to ignore the negativity and go on. “Anyway!” You exclaim and twirl back around. “She told me my future. She said…” you leave them with anticipation for a few seconds before you share what you were told. “I would have seven kids.”

“Gods,” Jacaerys murmurs.

“Mhmm.”

“Now,” Jacaerys cuts in and rushes over to fall by your side, leading Cregan to fall on your other side—“Who will give you all these children if your husband dies in this war?”

Without as much as thinking you turn to your brother and nudge his chest to make him think it’s something you planned when really you’re just teasing him. Kind of. “You. We could get married.”

Your brother's face falls and he immediately shakes his head and turns you down bluntly. “No. I would not marry you.”

“Oh right, there’s Baela,” you point out and grab your chin as you think deeply. “Well…I could take her. She’s quite terrifying, but yes,” you nod and look back at your brother. “I can take her in both a dragon fight and hand-to-hand combat…I think.”

Jacaerys' nose scrunches and he shakes his head again. “No, I would not marry you! You are…you.”

You look around confused and pick on that considering your house is known to marry within the family to keep the bloodlines pure. Aegon and Helaena are married.

“So?”

Jacaerys parts his lips but he can’t think of a strong argument that will beat the truth. Yet you do take a good look at Jacaerys and find an excuse. “You are right,” you mutter. “We could not, I do favor taller men, thus maybe...” you trail off to think, leaving Jacaerys offended by your bold comment.

“A Prince from Yi Ti with a house made of gold,” Cregan finishes for you, making you snap your eyes at him and smile slowly in amusement.

“Funny,” you hold back your laugh. “Very funny.”

He rolls his head down and hides his smile.

Gods laughing with him is so much better in person. He can be very funny in a serious way that only makes what he says or does that much funnier.

“She also let me see in the fire,” you continue to share more excitedly now. “And what I saw was a girl—”

“Wait, wait,” Jacaerys cuts you off and wipes away his smile. “Now when this priestess of yours talked to you, was she on the other side of this fire?”

You look away and bite your cheek before you lie by shaking your head as a response.

Albeit Cregan knows you well and points you out. “Liar.”

“Yes, fine!” You exclaim and gently nudge him away. “She was at the other side, but it was not her that I saw, it was a girl with silver hair,” you catch your brother's serious attention now. “She…stood on top of a mountain covered in snow, ashes, and death.”

Cregan’s own amusement falls and your brother doesn’t dare to tease you now, so you go on.

“All brought by…<A long winter,>,” you finish in High Valyrian to mirror the way the Red Priestess told you before you repeat in the common tongue. “A long winter.”

Both men look at you but one doesn’t look at you with disbelief, nor fear, he’s serious and deep in thought, while your brother lets out a dry laugh and shakes his head to try and deny what you shared.

“I believe it,” you defend yourself and what you saw in that fire because it was clear as day as if you were seeing a memory that hasn’t happened.

“I also believe what this old man said about Ice dragons living past the wall,” you tell your brother, and Cregan interjects right away.

“Old man Thomas is known for tall tales. There are things that are true, but what he says is not.”

You shrug. “He’s well-traveled, why wouldn’t it be true?” You rebuttal and lean towards him.

“Because,” Cregan argues and leans towards you. “He likes attention. And he’s drunk all the time.”

“A drunk man is less likely to lie, you know that because you don’t lie when you’re drunk.”

His lips twitch and before he can respond with something in his defense his eyes turn to your brother at your other side. You discreetly follow his line of gaze and catch your brother's attention so you play it off quickly.

“All I’m saying is I believe what I saw, it may not happen in our lifetime, but it’s in our future,”

A short silence follows that only works to make you grow nervous over what your brother might’ve just thought. But he thankfully brushes you off.

“Maybe but you probably got ripped off by a fake witch.”

Once again you choose to ignore this negativity spouted by your brother and instead drift your attention to lunch, and since Cregan was more in charge of guiding Jacaerys, he didn’t catch anything. All you have is the single fish you caught and the rabbits Jacaerys caught, but neither one of you wants to skin them, so you eat a small lunch and share the fish over a quite fun moment where you, unfortunately, don't receive an answer from Cregan, regarding what he’s willing to offer your mother.

You hoped he’d finally say it during supper, but supper came and passed, and nothing. That lack of response followed until the next two days too, leaving your brother quite impatient now.

“What have you told him?” Jacaerys greets you ever so warmly.

“What have I told who?” You pretend to act clueless while you pick a square cake from the tray and study it before you plop it into your mouth.

“Lord Stark,” he snaps.

You knew he was getting to that since you spotted him stomping over to you and Astraea, but you had hoped he wouldn’t get to it yet.

“It's been days and you said you would talk to him! We don’t have days to waste,” he remarks and spats out your name before going on to give you a mean reminder. “We need to leave and we have nothing.”

You don’t intend to sit up or fix your gaze on your brother, you keep yourself against your dragon's large arm and respond calmly. “He promised he would give us an answer—”

“When?” Jacaerys cuts you off and crouches down to take the tray of cake from you. “When?”

You drag your eyes up and nonchalantly answer. “He cannot pull the army out of his ass, Jacaerys. We have to wait, if he promised he would do something he is going to do it.”

Your brother rolls his eyes and turns away to let out a frustrated breath. “There's a difference between saying a promise and actually committing to it. I do not know how close you are or if you have actually talked to him, but you need to figure something out, that is why you are here.” He mutters.

You watch him knowing that he has a right to be annoyed, Lady Arryn gave you her answer quite quickly, and you’ve been in Winterfell for days but still haven’t received a word on what Cregan will give to support his Queen, but you also trust Cregan, you know he’s going to do what he says, you just need to wait.

“I’ll talk to him again,” you assure him. “If he doesn’t give anything then we’ll return home with his simple loyalty.”

Jacaerys rests his hand on his hip and lets out a deep breath. “All right, that sounds good.”

You sigh and nod, letting a silence linger for a moment before you lean forward. “Can I get those back?”

“What?” He breathes out and turns all dramatically with his cloak twirling with him.

“My cake pieces,” you point at the tray in his hand with your eyes.

Jacaerys passes you a judgmental look before he leans over and lets you take the tray he took.

“Aemond found me,” you let him know of the raven that came to you this morning. “He said ‘come home at once’. Shorter than the last one but still persistent.” You giggle.

Jacaerys walks over to sit next to you against a sleeping Astraea. “Will you?” He asks with genuine curiosity.

You take a cake piece and shake your head. “No…our mother belongs on that throne and I am going to stand by that,” you say confidently now that you know where you want to stand. “He can try to take me by force if he wants, but I am going to fight for her.”

Jacaerys looks over at you with a faint smile and nods in comprehension. “I’m glad to hear it.”

You mirror his smile and offer him a piece of cake. As he takes one a memory creeps in and your smile widens before you can tell it to him. “Do you remember a few years ago, when Lucerys disowned me because he thought I ate the last piece of lemon cake?”

Midchew Jacaerys loses himself in thought before he snorts, spitting out pieces of cake, and causing you to scrunch your nose in disgust.

“Ew,” you grumble and he interjects abruptly.

“Yes! I remember he’s like you cannot be my sister anymore because you are selfish and you ate it all!” He mocks your younger brother.

You giggle and nod, but before you can add to that shared memory Astraea suddenly raises her head, bringing Jacaerys and you to a pause to look over; noticing none other than Cregan approaching.

When he’s near he bows his head and greets the both of you on the ground. “Good day, my princess, my prince.”

You smile at him and greet him for both Jacaerys and you. “Good day. It is nice to see your face today, we ate lunch and breakfast alone.”

Cregan bows his head again. “I am terribly sorry, I have been busy all day, I only barely got out.”

You remember his long days, on some terribly long ones, he wouldn't be let out until it was time to go to bed. You would usually meet him in his chambers on those days and just lay down enjoying each other's company. Today all you can do is look at each other as nothing but old friends.

“I hope your day has not been dull,” Cregan worries.

You shake your head. “No, we were just reminiscing about a day of our childhood when,” you snicker and go on. “Our little brother Lucerys disowned me because he thought I ate the last piece of lemon cake.”

Jacaerys nods and continues the story for you. “We both knew there was more so she pretended to leave. Our mother came in a few moments later with more and Lucerys completely freaked,” Jacaerys laughs and stands up as if that would change the way he was telling it. “He started bawling and ran out to look for our sister.”

“When he found me,” you finish the story. “He’s like I am so sorry, I never meant what I said. Come back, do not leave us. You can have as much cake as you want!” You finish with a laugh and Jacaerys joins you.

“That sounds like quite a memory,” Cregan says and reaches out to pat your dragon's snout since she leans towards him with dilated eyes. “Did your mother say anything?”

You and Jacaerys stare at one another in search of the answer, but you can’t recall.

“Not that I remember,” you mention and look back at Cregan. “But it was quite a memory. Lucerys is a sweetheart.”

Cregan hums and Astraea groans softly in response to his touch.

“Oh, maybe you needed something, my Lord?” Jacaerys only asks now.

“Well,” Cregan sighs. “I only wanted to invite the both of you to Castle Black on the morrow so you could see the wall, My Prince. Just before you leave, that is.”

You and your brother share a hopeful look and even if Jacaerys was quite impatient to leave, now he accepts Cregan's invitation. “I have always wanted to see the wall. It would be a pleasure.”

“Good, we will leave at first light then.” Cregan lets you both know and leaves you hoping for a good response that will hopefully make your mother proud.

A/N- Who’s the 2nd heart of fire? A new character we’re getting soon, or someone else

Tagged- @namelesslosers @stargaryenx @chainsawsangel @lauftivy @winxschester @cloudroomblog @llarue @padsdarlg @sofietargaryen @gracielikegrapes @dreaming-of-the-reality @itzelpeyton @patdsinner33 @mrsdominickstark @elaena-aerrin @todoroki-slut @snh96 @urmomsgirlfriend1 @nifujiswhore @sweethoneyblossom1 @kaetastic @lightdragonrayne @squidscottjeans @oh-you-mean-me

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bvidzsoo · 5 months ago

Text

Love Me Like A Rockstar (12)

ー☆ Chapter 12: Shame On Me

Author: bvidzsoo

Pairing: Song Mingi x female reader

ー☆ Warning: cursing ー☆ Word count: 5.5k ー☆ Genre: university!au, enemies to lovers!au, rockstar!au ー☆Rating: sfw ー☆ Summary: Love. You wanted none of it. You had already been heartbroken very badly once, you didn't wish to go through that ever again. But the Universe works in intricate ways and, somehow, you found yourself webbed up in a local rockstar's life, Song Mingi. He was everything you expected him to be, yet nothing like you imagined him he would be. What happens when you find mutual understanding and have heartful conversations? Will he be able to break down your walls? Will you be able to chase away his darkness?

A/N: Hiii, my lovelies! Shorter chapter but you won't have to wait too long, I'll update next week again! I don't think there will be any more updates to my other stories this week because I'm going to visit my bestie on Thursday and I only come home on Sunday (can't wait to see you again Orsi *cries*). You know the drill, please listen to Shame On Me before or while reading, thank you!! So, uh, you all will hate me after this chapter, I'm sorry in advance, but you can go scream at me in the notes and reblogs! <3 However, I promise the angst won't last for too long :D Thank you all for reading and always leaving feedback, I appreciate it a lot! I hope you enjoy this chapter, don't hate me pls. divider

Taglist: @orshii @or5i @lovely-red2 @scarfac3 @juicy-red @sunaswifes-blog @voicesinmyhead-rc @teez-the-time @maru-matt @kyeos4ng @deathbyyeekies @chicksmoothie @mjlbn01 @xhexy @tmtxtf @hwashiningstar @thatfavouritesong @ateez-atiny380 @xciiiomwliah @vixensss @catchingskzzzs @tesssaurrr @ginger-mingi @mingisbbg

⟨Series M.list ↭ Previous Chapter⟩

♫Playlist♫

It was quite ominous how well I had slept last night, and despite feeling my eyes burn from staying up too late and not getting enough sleep, I felt well-rested. Perhaps the unusual warmth engulfing my body had something to do with the way my muscles seemed to become one with the mattress, and the comfortable weight around my waist also made me want to give in to the calling of another slumber. I had woken up a few times before, trying to find new comfortable positions as I could hear the birds chirp outside and the sweet cologne that clung to my clothes and the sheets tingled my nose in a way I had to suppress a sneeze. But the sun was high up in the sky already, the blinds open as I felt the warmth of the sunlight on my face. I released a content sigh as my muscles begged for a good stretch, making me groan when I felt a few vertebras pop, tension releasing between them. Gosh, I wish I could wake up feeling this refreshed every morning.

The covers were thick, and thus, the non-existent melody of the bed calling out to me to stay for longer won as I melted back against the pillow, licking my dry lips as I was mildly surprised that there was no impeding headache. I would usually feel hungover even if I drank only a little—hence why I preferred staying away from alcohol—but maybe that hot chocolate I had last night was some magic drink. There was a low groan next to me and I smiled for a second, feeling thick fingers tangle into the waistband of the sweatpants I was wearing, definitely not mine as they rode a little too low on my hips. The strings must’ve come undone in my sleep as I kept shifting around. Not really thinking as I was still under the blissful grip of a good night’s sleep, I sneaked my right arm underneath the covers and gently traced the warm skin of the arm pressing against my torso. There was another low hum and I smiled as I turned my head to the left, eyes protesting as I tried to peel them open. Perhaps that can wait until my brain is fully functioning.

“Good morning.” Mingi’s voice was husky and it covered my arms in goosebumps as I felt butterflies in my stomach, the heath of my cheeks unnatural once again.

“Morning.” I whispered and bit my bottom lip, feeling the bed shift again as Mingi’s hand now held my waist firmly, fingers rubbing circles into the skin where his borrowed t-shirt had ridden up. Feeling eyes on me, I opened one eye and chuckled as I saw Mingi’s puffy face, halfway hidden into his pillow as he lay on his stomach, red lips swollen and platinum blonde hair disheveled in every possible way. Mingi’s cheeks tinged pink and he grumbled something intangible as he hid his face into the pillow, feigning a tickle at my waist as I squirmed and pushed his hand off, heartbeat picking up as Mingi caught my hand before I could pull it away and interlaced our fingers. My eyes were painfully dry but I rubbed them with the heel of my left palm, rubbing my face afterwards as the haze of sleep slowly had started dissipating.

So, turns out all of this wasn’t a dream. I did go to Outlaw to watch Mingi perform, I did get drunk and got into a tiny argument with Mingi, and he did drive me home afterwards. And apparently, I did sleep over wearing his clothes and using his toiletries and we did—we did kiss. I gulped and licked my dry lips again, feeling the butterflies dissipate in my stomach as instead a lump formed in my throat. I released a shaky breath as I felt Mingi caress my knuckles underneath the covers, and then he turned his head to look at me. He looked—content. He looked happy. His face was serene and he looked like he has been waiting for this moment for ages. Something in my chest ached at the thought and I gulped, feeling the blissful morning daze dissipate completely and get replace by a slowly impeding dread. I released a shaky sigh as a heartbreakingly beautiful smile graced Mingi’s lips, mouth forming a boxy shape that showed all of his teeth—the protruding front ones that I grew to adore—his nose wrinkling and eyes creasing. Suddenly, I didn’t feel so good anymore, I felt like I wanted to cry.

Why was Mingi so perfect? Why was he so kind to me? Why did he treat me so well? Why was he so patient with me? Why did he stick by my side for so long? What was it about me that he liked? What did Mingi want from me?

I froze as suddenly Mingi pushed up onto his elbows and started leaning over me, that smile still present on his lips as he released my hand to caress my cheek. My hands trembled as I tried to hold his eye contact, but all of a sudden I felt sick. I felt dirty and I felt like I couldn’t breathe. Everything smelled like Mingi, everything felt like Mingi—it was too much. Perhaps he saw the subtle shift in my expression as he stopped for a second, eyebrows slightly furrowing, but then his warm lips touched the corner of my mouth and it made my muscles tense up and send my mind off into an alarmed frenzy.

I couldn’t be here, I had to leave. No. What was I doing? How could I do this when I knew Mingi is Yunho’s best friend? How could I hide something like that from him? Why did I let him kiss me and why did I kiss him back? Why have I—why the hell have I started liking Mingi so much that having him next to me suddenly felt right and being away from him made me anxious, made it feel so wrong?

Unable to control myself anymore, I sprung up from the bed, trying to keep my breaths labored as Mingi sat up alarmed, eyebrows furrowing as he watched me scramble around his room looking for my clothes. I couldn’t remember where he had placed them last night—whether I had left them in bathroom or had brought them to the living room. I heard the sheets crinkle as no doubt Mingi was getting out of bed too, I could feel his piercing gaze follow my every move.

“You—” He hesitated for a second, “You don’t have to leave so early—I mean, it’s not that early, but I want to make us breakfast. I promise I’m not a bad cook.”

I bit my lower lip as my eyebrows furrowed, my body freezing as my heart clenched. I wanted that, I wanted to stay with Mingi and eat breakfast and laugh and just let go of everything and forget every single one of my worries, but I couldn’t. I felt so guilty, I couldn’t even turn around and face him. I had to leave and I had to get rid of him, it would be best for the both of us.

“I’m not hungry.” My voice was barely above a whisper, cold, and distant. I finally spotted my clothes sitting neatly folded on Mingi’s desk chair and I leaped towards them, my fingers curling tightly into them as I cradled them into my arms, somehow hoping that it would bring any sort of comfort. It didn’t because I could still feel Mingi’s eyes on me and hear the way his steps faltered.

“Oh, then…” He fell silent and I felt my hands’ tremors worsen, making me bite into my bottom lip to try and keep myself level-headed. It was hard, and I was failing at it, “We could grab some coffee and—”

“I’m going home, Mingi.” I snapped, cutting off his rambling because I was unable to listen to his warm and soothing voice anymore, now laced with obvious hurt and dejection. I wasn’t only hurting myself anymore, I was hurting him too. And I hated myself. He deserved better. Mingi deserves someone who cherishes him and makes him happy, not someone who brings his hopes up and then stomps on his heart like it means nothing. I didn’t want to do this, but I felt like I had no choice. I had dug my own grave by indulging into his little games—they weren’t games, Mingi has been genuine from the get go—and now here I was, suffering the consequences of my own actions.

“I—Y/N.” I froze as my hand reached for the handle to open the door, I couldn’t face him, “What we did—what happened last night, I—no, the kiss, we can’t just glaze over it, I can’t—I can’t do that anymore. Please, what are we?”

I squeezed my eyes shut at the sudden tears in them and inhaled a long breath, slowly twisting the handle of the door so that I could flee easier, “The kiss was—a mistake. We were both caught up in our feels and I—I didn’t mean to do that. I never wanted to kiss you. I don’t—it means nothing. We are nothing, Mingi.”

If the same words echoed in my mind but sounded a lot more masculine and venomous, puppylike eyes narrowed and glaring down at me, I gulped and repressed the memory, rushing out of Mingi’s room in a panic. I didn’t want to hear the way Mingi gasped nor the way he called out in confusion after me as I made it towards the shoe rack, finding my boots placed neatly next to his. It took everything I had in me to keep it together, to swallow the tears that wanted to escape my eyes, to keep my voice firm.

“What do you mean it meant nothing?” Mingi didn’t even sound angry, he sounded so utterly hurt, that a tear unintentionally trickled down my cheek, “It couldn’t have meant nothing, Y/N, we’ve been dancing around each other for too long for it to mean nothing. You’ve—I’ve kissed you before, not like this of course, but we did kiss and we’ve held hands and you—you can’t just fucking say it means nothing when it means everything to me!”

Fuck.

Perhaps it was good that he was finally showing any other reaction than disappointment and hurt, perhaps I pitied myself less if he was angry at me and shouting—I deserved it. I really did, every mean thing he’d hurl at me, I deserved to hear them because he was right. He was, he had always been. I’m a horrible awful being and I played with his feelings just like Yunho had played with mine. How could I hate Yunho so much when I was just like him?

“We’re both honest and blunt people, Mingi, there’s no reason to dance around this.” My voice sounded leveled, calm, almost as if it was mocking Mingi’s despair and I felt like complete shit, “Quite frankly put, I don’t want to see you again. This everything—whatever the hell we’ve been doing for the past three months, it was a shitshow. I don’t know what your purpose behind your actions was but I know mine and it has nothing to do with—whatever we’ve done last night. There’s no such thing as friendship between a girl and boy, it never works out, somebody always gets heartbroken and that’s exactly what’s happening right now. I think we both mislead each other, which led to this misunderstanding, so yes, it means nothing because I don’t want anything from you, but you clearly want something I cannot give you.”

The deafening silence felt like a slap to my face and it almost made me whirl around to apologize for my harsh words, to tell him that it was all a lie, that I liked him more than who I thought was my first love. I had always thought I loved Yunho with my whole being, that I gave him all of myself, but that wasn’t true. Yunho had never seen me at my lowest, Yunho never tried to fix the issues between us, he never reached out if he knew he did something wrong, he never even tried to pursue me—it was all me, all along. I was the one fighting for us and Yunho just went along with it because it was comfortable, because I was a stable point in his chaotic life, somebody he knew he could come back to. And I was treating Mingi as if he did the same thing to me, as if he was just another replica of Yunho—when he wasn’t. Mingi was so much more than Yunho would ever be, and I ruined everything in the span of five minutes.

I didn’t even bother lacing up my boots as I stepped into them, afraid to look back, but unable to stop myself when the silence just continued to stretch on. I didn’t expect to see Mingi’s eyes bloodshot, nor his bottom lip red and swollen from getting chewed on too much. Fuck, why did my heart ache more than when Yunho left me?!

“I never wanted to be your friend, doll.” The way his tone was emotionless yet his lips uttered the nickname, it made my lungs constrict as the lump got bigger and bigger in my throat, “But I knew you needed time, so I gave it to you. Perhaps—perhaps I shouldn’t have, maybe I should have been cleared with my intentions—”

“Mingi.” I snapped, eyebrows furrowing as we made eye contact. I couldn’t listen to him anymore; I couldn’t bear to hear him make up excuses for the sake of me. Why was he not screaming at me, why was he not hurting me? This is why he was too good for me, why I didn’t deserve him, “Delete my number.”

“You know your way out.” And I did know it. Without saying anything else, I unlocked the front door and ripped it open, slamming it shut behind me as I raced towards the stairs, hissing as my eyes got blurry and obscured my view of where I was stepping. But I had to get out of the building as fast as possible, scared that Mingi would race after me, that he’d try to reason with me one more time because it would work. It would work and I would give in. I would tell him the truth and then everything would be more painful. I was saving him from the betrayal he didn’t deserve, I was saving him from me, who never treated him right. I thought he was an asshole, an arrogant guy who yearned for attention and validation from every breathing female. But that wasn’t true, Mingi was a selfless and hard-working man who put others above himself, he wasn’t greedy and he wore his heart on his sleeve, ready to offer all the love his body contained without expecting anything in return. And I was a horrible human being because I took advantage of his kindness and goodness, because in the process of trying to get rid of him—I fell for him.

I was gasping for air by the time I stumbled out of the building, the wind harsh and cold as I scrambled to wear my jacket over Mingi’s thin t-shirt. It did nothing to shield me from the harsh weather and perhaps I deserved it, perhaps I deserved to be stared at by the passerby people with questioning or judgmental stares. I had no idea where I was, but thankfully finding my phone in my pocket, I was able to walk myself to a bus station and wait for a bus that would take me home. Mingi lived almost thirty minutes away from my place, but that was fine, I could keep it together for so long. I wouldn’t cry, I refused to cry, this was my own punishment. As I sat on the bench at the bus station, the heather above head lessening the chill that seemed to bite at my body, I closed my eyes and wallowed in the tumultuous emotions I felt.

This was far from how I wanted things to go, I thought I was better, that I could control myself and keep everything in check, but at last, I failed. I failed and now I hurt the guy I had fallen for. I was scared, I was afraid of getting left behind like it previously had happened, and so I wanted to protect myself. I struck before he could. I thought I would be protecting my heart and getting the upper hand, but then why was my heart aching and my stomach clenching so hard that it made me feel nauseous? Why do I always mess things up when they finally go right? Can’t I have something good for myself? Is it so hard to believe that not all guys are like Yunho? But Mingi is his best friend and it started getting easy to spot similarities between them the longer I hung out with Mingi. So could he really be much different from Yunho? I wouldn’t know, now, I would never find out.

I felt numb, both physically and emotionally, by the time I made it home. The house was empty and dark, rainclouds had gathered outside and I was thankful that I made it home before the downpour. It reminded me of Mingi, everything seemed to remind me of Mingi. I hated it, it made breathing harder as I peeled his clothes off myself and went into the shower, probably staying underneath the spray of the hot water for too long. My skin was all wrinkled by the time I got out and the rain came down heavily against the roof of the house, forcing me to dress up warmly and wear the hood of my hoodie as I was too tired and lazy to dry my hair. I was craving something hot to drink, but when my eyes fell on the hot chocolate in the cupboard I suddenly felt sick to my stomach and had to rush to the bathroom, heaving and heaving without throwing up anything. I felt like I was borderline dying, and I deserved it. I knew I did.

And when I was feeling my utmost worst, there was only one thing that could help. Drawing and painting. I stared at my sketchbook longingly, but decided to use a different one as that one was filled with sketches of Mingi’s eyes, and him performing on stage, him driving or him laughing with his boxy and gummy smile, his hands that were littered with rings, his peaceful face when he had fallen asleep once in the library while we were studying. But something that hasn’t happened before did happen now. No matter how much I stared at the blank paper, nothing came to me. My mind refused to conjure up any images, my hands refused to move. My grip on the pencil turned painful and I hissed as I pushed the sketchbook off my lap, throwing the pencil against the wall in frustration. I pulled my knees up to my chest as I listened to the heavy rain, staring at the window, watching as big drops rolled down quickly. The silence, the darkness, the numbness…it was beginning to be too much. I wished to see Mingi, I wished to talk to him, I wanted to fix this, but I couldn’t. I was an asshole and going back to him just hours later after being a dick and probably hurting him beyond forgiveness was an even bigger dick move. I just couldn’t do it, so, I closed my eyes and waited. For what, I didn’t know until my phone rang loudly, making me jump out of my skin.

I was stupid for feeling a flicker of hope that it was maybe him, but my heart settled when Seulgi’s smiling face greeted me once I grabbed my phone. I sighed and picked up, beyond grateful that she probably had a feeling that things weren’t going so well anymore. I could feel the small smile stretch onto my lips, the greeting on the tip of my tongue, but Seulgi beat me to it.

“What have you done.” I froze, heart falling into my stomach at the harsh tone of my best friend, eyebrows furrowing in worry. Seulgi never spoke like that to me—to anyone—she was a ray of sunshine and she never got angry, she was never disappointed, she never treated anyone roughly, “Y/N!”

I jumped at the way she yelled my name, gulping down nothing as my mouth had gone dry, “I—nothing. I did nothing—”

“You’re full of shit.” Seulgi snapped and I felt my lips tremble as her voice raised in anger, “How can you say you did nothing when Mingi has been at Wooyoung’s ever since noon and hasn’t stopped bawling his eyes out?! He’s not speaking, he’s not eating, he’s not even moving, Y/N. What did you do?”

“I—” I gulped, voice faint as I felt my eyes fill with tears, “I didn’t mean to, I—I told him it was nothing. That I—didn’t want to see him again. I just—I’m scared, Seulgi.”

“You’re the fucking worst, Y/N.” Seulgi’s tone didn’t soften, if anything, it got harsher and I heard someone in the background call out her name in a quiet warning, “How could you say that to Mingi out of all people?! Are you seriously joking right now?! Did you feel good playing around with him when he has made it so fucking clear that he was into you? That he likes you? That he wants to be with you? You aren’t even dense not to see things like this, Y/N, you straight up played with his feelings and then crushed his heart like it meant nothing.”

“I’m sorry.” I whispered, sniffing loudly as Seulgi scoffed. Hearing everything out loud and getting scolded by my best friend probably was the worst feeling ever. I knew I had fucked up colossally if she was taking Mingi’s side, rightfully so.

“I can’t believe you treated him like nothing,” A slight pause and then her voice dropped to a low whisper, “Like Yunho has treated you. You said the same thing to him, Y/N, aren’t you ashamed of yourself—”

“I fucking hate myself, Seulgi!” I exclaimed, frustrated and panicked and annoyed and wounded, “I didn’t mean for this to happen, but I’m scared! I can’t—what if he leaves me? What if he’s worse than Yunho’s ever been?!”

“We were teenagers back then.” Seulgi sighed and her voice softened the slightest, “And Yunho was an asshole from the very beginning, you just refused to see it. Mingi has always been genuine with you, fair, and kind. Yet you saw that and still threw him to the curb.”

“I’m sorry.” I felt a tear trickle down my cheek and I quickly wiped it away, refusing to cry. I didn’t deserve to cry.

“You should be saying that to Mingi, not me.” There was light shuffling in the background and then I heard different voices talking to Seulgi, “Seonghwa is here too now, I have to go. You better fix this even though I don’t know if you deserve his forgiveness at this point.”

“Don’t say that.” I whispered, but Seulgi hung up without saying goodbye, and suddenly I didn’t know what to do anymore. The phone fell from my hand as I stared with tear filled eyes at my mother’s guitar, flashes of Mingi’s excitement upon seeing it fresh in my mind, making my throat close up. I couldn’t breathe. Mingi wasn’t talking to anyone and it was because of me, I did that. I made him feel like that and I didn’t even know how to fix this anymore. Could I fix it? Or have I fucked up so badly that he’ll never forgive me? I knew for a fact that if I were Mingi, I wouldn’t forgive myself no matter how much he would’ve begged or tried making things right. Just as my head fell onto my knees and I squeezed my eyes shut, annoyed that the unshed tears kept persisting, there was a knock on my door. I hadn’t even heard my mother get home.

She gently pushed the door open and peered inside with a curious look on her face, looking excited as I turned my head to look at her. She grinned and suddenly stepped inside, holding up a small box in excitement. My eyebrows furrowed as I watched her grab a paper out of it, giving me a cheeky smile as she cleared her throat, “‘I hope every time you drink your hot chocolate out of this mug you’ll be reminded of me, doll – S.M.’”

I suppose that was all I needed for the cup to be full, to be tipped over the edge as the tears suddenly sprung free, ripping loud sobs from my throat as I grabbed at my hair, yanking on the strands harshly. My mother gasped in fright and I heard movement behind myself, then I felt hands untangle my fingers from my hair, placing them in my lap with one hand as with her other hand she cradled my head against her chest. She smelled like the sanitizers they used at the hospitals, infused with a little musk as it was my mother’s favorite scent, and I was suddenly so grateful for having her. I turned my body to hug her tightly, crying into her chest like I was a little girl once again. My mother sighed as I felt her pat my head and rub my back up and down, humming a song I knew all too well as we used to listen to it a lot while I was growing up. The weight of her chin felt comforting against the top of my head and I gripped her work clothes perhaps a little too tight, but I didn’t care. I have missed her embrace, I missed laughing with her and crying with her, I have missed talking to her. After Yunho left me, I became closed off. I didn’t let anyone know how I felt or what I was going through, and despite my mother being a nurse, she could only help me if I let her—and I didn’t. I was repulsed by any closeness and I needed to be on my own. Days turned into months and those into years, and it took me this long to realize I wasn’t doing as well as I thought I was.

“Mom,” I was still crying, but my sobs have stopped, “I messed up so bad.”

She hummed as her fingers tried to untangle the knots in my hair, “Does it have to do anything with whom the mug is from?”

I nodded wordlessly and she hummed again, tapping my thigh for me to pull back, “Is it that tall boy with sharp eyes, cute glasses and sweet smile, fluffy dark hair?”

“He’s blonde now.” I muttered as I sniffed loudly and disgustingly as I pulled back, letting my mom wipe my tears off my face.

“You hate blonde guys, though.” She muttered with her eyebrows furrowed as I sheepishly looked up into her eyes.

“I know.”

A beat of silence passed and then she started giggling, prompting me to giggle along, my heart still aching but the relief of being in her arms made me feel like I could breathe once again, “Well, that is no good then. I hope you aren’t crying because this S.M. boy went blonde—”

“Song Mingi, his name is Song Mingi.” I whispered as I chewed on my bottom lip, averting my eyes, “I can’t believe you already forgot his name.”

“Well, I’m particularly bad with names, starlight.” My mother chuckled and I felt a smile tug at my lips. She always found peculiar nicknames to call me by, “And he never came over for dinner, that was my trick to remember his name and well—get to know him better, I suppose.”

“He’s not coming over for dinner—like ever.” My tone was grim as I grumbled, picking at my cuticle as I looked down at my lap, avoiding the look of confusion on my mother’s face.

“So, things didn’t work out…” I hummed and sighed, pulling away completely from my mother’s embrace.

“I’m a fool.” I muttered as I pulled my knees up to my chest again, staring at my socked feet. My mother placed her hand on my shoulder and massaged it softly, “I hurt him and now he hates me. I said what happened between us meant nothing, but I was lying. I think I’m in love with him, mom.”

“Has he said that he hates you?” My mother raised her eyebrows in question and I shook my head, “Then he doesn’t hate you. Yes, you hurt him with your harsh words but if you really love him—what’s holding you back, my starlight? You’re a smart woman and you know how to fix your mistakes, I’m sure I don’t have to tell you. So don’t just sulk and wail and make him hurt for no reason—”

“He’s Yunho’s best friend.” I whispered, peeking up at my mother’s face, surprised to find a smile that looked both comforting and amused.

“And does he know that?”

“What?” I asked confused, making my mother chuckle, “Of course he knows he’s Yunho’s best friend.”

“That’s not what I asked, starlight.”

“No, he doesn’t know.” I muttered and grimaced as my mother shook her head at me, “I never found the right moment to tell him, actually, things were never supposed to get this far, mom.”

“I see,” My mother hummed and leaned closer, “You know, I’m speaking based on many years of experience, but this Mingi boy doesn’t seem like the type to hold grudges for too long or judge you for your past. Sure, it must feel weird knowing your current girlfriend has dated your best friend, but that was like ages ago—and you’re still making a big deal out of it—”

“Mom.” I groaned, giving her an unimpressed look, but she only giggled.

“You know, you didn’t take after me for being so dramatic.” She pursed her lips and suddenly pushed me over, making me fall to my side with a loud gasp, “It’s one of the few reasons your father didn’t stick around for long—he was too dramatic.”

“I thought he left us.” I muttered as I sat up straight, making my mother roll her eyes at me.

“He certainly did after I told him I didn’t need a junkie in my house while I was trying to raise my child—” She rolled her eyes then stood up, extending her hand out for me, “And then he thought I tried to baby trap him—huh, what an idiot. Who wants to baby trap a broke dude who’s doing nothing with his life while I was in school learning to be a nurse and girlbossing my way through life?!”

“Don’t ever again say girlbossing, mom.” I groaned embarrassed as I let her help me up.

“What?!” She chuckled, holding my hand gently, “It’s cool, everyone at the hospital says it—well, the younger generation. Anyways, we’re going to cook yummy dinner together, and then I’ll magically make some ice cream appear from our fridge and I have some really nice wine hiding in the cupboard, waiting for us to consume it while you tell me everything about this Song Mingi guy. We haven’t had a girl’s night in so long, I missed you, Y/N.”

“I missed you too, mom, but,” I frowned as I let her pull me after herself, “you do realize I’m suffering and am on the verge of having another break down, yet you still want me to talk about Mingi?”

“It’s called therapy, honey, even if I’m not a therapist.” She shrugged as we walked down the stairs, “Besides, I’ve got some bomb advice to give you to win this boy over. I can’t believe I managed to raise a strong and independent woman that’s emotionally constipated!”

“Oh, my God.” I muttered under my breath, wondering just how many of her coworkers were too young for her to be hanging around, and why on Earth were they teaching my mother cringey slang.

But she was right. I did need her advice, desperately so, and having a girl’s night while I can talk about Mingi without feeling embarrassed to admit I am into him sounded nice—especially now that I have successfully fucked everything up.

『You run away when you just can't face it

Hide in the dark, but you know you hate it』

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jarofstyles · 1 year ago

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Splendore- Verboten 8

They're back. Best friend's Dadrry returns and this time in another country. 👀💋

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Series masterlist

Warnings- emotions, slight angst, fluff, I promise there's smut next time

---

Harry’s idea to let them bond together without the worry of someone they know catching them hadn’t been what Y/N expected.

She had imagined a trip into the city, maybe to a few over so they could get used to being out together, to being a couple they wanted to be. Maybe a BnB if he was feeling fancy.

It turns out, he was feeling luxurious.

Italy had been the last of her guesses, not even truly on the brain. The older man had her pack her bags and told her they were going to one of his houses. She had been given the hints of a ‘warm climate’ and to pack those ‘pretty bathing suits and sundresses’ that he loved oh, so much. Y/N did exactly as asked, packing up her suitcase with the cool packing cubes she had bought from being influenced online - she was weak for easier travel- and prepared for at least a bit of fun in the sun. Her suspicions rose when he had mentioned a passport, but when they sat in the first class seats on a flight to Italy, she was in shock.

Harry had laughed at her shock, how she bounced on her heels when she had figured it out when they arrived at the lounge. She had thanked him with kisses to the cheek, her hood falling off her face as she held his far too pretty for a grown man’s face. Y/N hadn’t been to Italy, let alone know that he had a house there. Imagine her reaction when he broke out into Italian, speaking to the gate agent as soon as they landed about something that she couldn't understand. Her attraction to him had already been sky high, but the last few hours had elevated it specifically.

2 weeks. They were spending 2 weeks in Italy, Y/N finally quitting the job she hated with plans to look for another one when she got back, and a weight lifted off her shoulders. Her excuse to Lia had been she was going to go see where her extended family lived, whilst Harry said he had business. It wasn’t a lie- Y/N did have family here, but she wasn’t exactly going to see them.

Y/N’s arms wrapped around his one as they walked through one of the street markets. Harry had been the one to choose her dress, deciding on a white base colored one with tiny baby blue florals covering it. It hugged her waist and flared out, reaching right above her knee and was off the shoulder with tiny puff sleeves- a beautiful one he hadn’t seen before. They’d lazed about in bed sleeping off a bit of the travel from the day prior, but Y/N had been a bit antsy to see things. Harry knew the area well, had spent some summers here with family, and he was a massive fan of the country in general.

Sunglasses hung on the bridge of his nose as he stopped at one of the stalls, looking at the fresh fruit lined up. He hadn’t gone to the market yet, and it was probably a good idea to get some fruit while they were here. “Why don’t you pick out some that looks good to you, hm?” He turned to murmur against her temple.

Y/N wasn’t used to being allowed to be so openly affectionate with Harry. The times they’d gone out back home, they’d still been cautious with how close and sweet they were in fear of their relations being reported back to someone who didn’t need to know. Being in Italy offered a type of freedom that she didn’t expect to feel so good. Hanging on his arm felt so perfect, like it fit right into her own. Letting her arm drop from his, she chose a few things. A few packets of berries that looked particularly ripe and juicy, some peaches that were far softer than any she had felt, and a few red and green mottled apples were placed into the wicker basket she had bought from a few vendors up. She knew Harry was a fan of cherries, so she chose a small bag and picked up a pomegranate for herself before stopping. Looking at him for approval, he simply nodded and took the basket from her to show the vendor.

“Mi scusi, quanto costa tutto questo?” His Italian made her blink. His voice had always been a weakness of hers, but hearing him talk in a different language and sound so… dreamy? She felt a bit wobbly in the knees, eyes locked on his face as he spoke. The exchange was completely missed on the other end, her long lashes blinking as she watched Harry pull his worn leather wallet out from his front pocket and hand over a few bills. She watched his eyes slide over to her, catching her staring point blank as his lips quipped up in a tiny smirk.

“Grazie Signore.”

His hand found Y/N’s, threading their fingers together as they continued to walk with her basket in his hand now. He wouldn’t let her carry her own stuff a lot of the time and as much as it drove her crazy, it also showed that he was a real gentleman. They just didn’t make them like this anymore. That’s why she’s gone with an original model, she supposed.

“Got something on my face?” His smug little smile hadn’t dwindled, their hands swinging slightly in between them as she could feel his happiness. It squeezed her heart in her chest. As many times as she’s seen the man content, she had never seen him like this. This level of happiness, or seemingly free. She could relate, but seeing it in the man who was usually quite reserved and had been known to her as an authority in a way, an intimidation, it was a breath of fresh air. His giddiness was contagious.

“Mhm. A little smug look on that face.” She laughed, rolling her eyes in jest as they continued to walk down the cobblestones. “You’re just very pretty. That’s all.” She feigned a bit more indifference than she actually felt.

“Oh? And it’s got nothing to do with the fact that you look at me like I offered you a lifetime supply of peach tea when I speak Italian?” He rose a brow, calling her out directly on her bullshit. “I do appreciate the compliment though. I prefer ruggedly handsome, a sexpot, maybe. But pretty will do.”

“A sexpot?” Y/N snorted, nose crinkling in distaste as she looked at him over her own sunglasses. “I forgot you’re an old man sometimes. But fine. Maybe I do like hearing you speak in a foreign language. You surprise me, is all.” She shrugged one shoulder, continuing the swinging of their arms. It was odd, how well they connected despite all their seemingly different life points. They melded together like precious metals over a flame, combining in a way that made her positive that traces of him would remain in her forever.

“Good. You’ve got a lot to learn about me.” He hummed, squeezing their joined hands. The man seemed a bit shy with her sometimes, like now that they were out of their normal element, he was a tad more vulnerable. It was something Y/N found to be refreshing. She wasn’t the only one a little nervous. Or perhaps he had always felt like this, but hadn’t felt ok showing it.

“Hm. Let’s look in here.” Harry interrupted her train of thought, pulling her into a stall with dresses.

Harry had a thing for them, as they’d previously discussed. He liked seeing her in flowy, soft dresses that showed off her shoulders and her legs. It had taken her slightly off guard considering she had thought he would prefer to see her in her bathing suits- which, he did obviously enjoy, but he had shown more excitement to see the dresses she had shown and requested them specifically.

“Are you going to get something?” Y/N asked, looking at the colorful pieces hung up on a pole and the rolling racks. They were beautiful, but definitely pricey. She couldn’t fault them for it, as they looked hand made and artists deserved to be paid for their work appropriately. She had to be a bit careful with her spending, though, considering she had just quit her old job.

“Mhm. We both are.” Harry’s words made her turn to him, lifting the glasses off her face.

“Oh? I am?” She crossed her arms, looking up at him with her brows raised, only to be met with a laughing man who scooped her into his arms, pulling her into his chest. She had no time to question before he was kissing the top of her head, pulling back to look at her face.

“Yes. M’gonna be buying you what I’d like to see you in.” He said easily. “And probably some things for myself.” There were a nice variety of shirts and shorts, so he could choose for himself. It was written all over her face, her reflex to argue, but instead of allowing it, he tipped her chin up and covered her lips with his own, cutting off any sort of rebellion. Kissing her for the first time, properly, in a public place. It had caught her off guard, her body relaxing slightly before he pulled back from her. “Just let me. Yeah? It’ll make me happy.” He smoothed his thumb over her bottom lip. “Per favore, bellezza mia. Lascia che ti vizi.” The croon of a whispered Italian sentence, despite her not really knowing what he said besides please, had her core heating up.

God damn, he was good.

“Fine. Fine… If it’ll make you happy.” She whispered back, leaning up to peck his lips again. It took him by surprise, but one he happily leaned into. Harry’s wide grin was reward enough.

After that, it was a bit of a blur. Y/N said yes and no to a few dresses, trying her best to be conservative with the money he was spending because it still made her a little uneasy- but seeing the amount of clothing that he had folded up for himself, it reminded her that he really did have the funds. His home here alone should show her that- but in the back of her mind, she knew she was worried about what people would say.

Gold digger. With him for the money.

It wasn’t that she necessarily cared about anyone else's opinion of her, but she didn’t like the idea of people saying she didn’t feel for him as strongly as he did for her. She would be with Harry if he didn’t have money at all at this point. Of course, she couldn’t lie and say it wasn’t a good thing to have. That it didn’t arouse her to know her man could take care of her, that he was successful and driven and able to provide and create things. It did, more than she cared to admit. It just wasn’t why she was with him.

Harry had swept her off her feet, what started out as a fuck in the poolhouse turning into a full blown relationship with feelings and anxious glances and sweet giggles. It was different than past relationships but also, not. The circumstances certainly were unique, the risk especially so, but the full bellied butterflies she got whenever she thought about him, the late night calls, the rest of it all resembled a pure romance.

She acted the part of a spoiled girl well in most other contexts, but actually allowing people to provide things for her had always made her feel a bit uncomfortable. It was never an even exchange. Harry’s expression had been so earnest when he had told her he wanted to do it for her, she couldn’t tell him no.

The shop owner had looked overjoyed, throwing suggestions to them and acting as a personal shopper once she had deciphered what size Y/N would be, a flush on her face as she realized it meant real money for her. That was another reason she let the guilt melt away. Providing income for a local artisan was worth it. Falling into it, she smiled and showed her preferences towards cuts, choosing one of the lilac ones from the rack, a soft linen mustard colored dress with floral embroidery across the bust, a deep red maxi dress with a mix of lace creating pleats, a white wrap skirt, and a few other things that Harry had decided she was getting. Y/N wasn’t about to deny him. It was his money.

By the end of it, they had two bags of clothing, separated to his and hers by the helpful and gracious artisan who kissed both of their cheeks repeatedly and apparently invited them both to dinner while they were here. Y/N didn't know what he had said in response, but she assumed by the large smile that it was an acceptance.

He had a charm about him. She had noticed it, obviously, but as they continued through the market and shopped it became apparent that he just had a magnetic quality to him that had her looking on the interactions fondly. This was an unfiltered view of the man that made her feel a fluttering in her chest, the luck she had stumbled upon by getting to spend her time with him realized fully as she continued their walk. He was a gentleman, stopping and letting her browse one of the pottery stalls so she could choose a mug- finally letting her pay for something herself when she had pouted at him- and decided to get him one as well. Hers had oranges on it, Harry’s matching with lemons.

Italy was far warmer than she had realized though, and her inner thighs were starting to sweat. She needed a break, which she told him in a soft request to go back to the house to relax by the pool. Her body was in desperate need of a shower and far less clothing. This had been the most walking she had done in months.

He had insisted on gelato before they made the trek back up to the villa, Y/N choosing a Tiramisu flavor and Harry getting pistacchio. Leisurely, they walked hand in hand while the bags hung off Harry's elbow and her basket back on her own while they licked at the treat. It was melting fast, her tongue working over the sides to try and constrain it from dripping all over her fingers. Being sticky on top of sweaty and tired was not on the top of her to-do list.

“Messy girl.” His eyes had been watching intently as they paused at the top of the hill to give her a second to breathe. Her tongue flicked over her fingertips as the melty cream dribbled down over the cone, making his stomach burn a little bit. The woman managed to make the most mundane things either utterly adorable or completely erotic depending on the mood. In this instance, he was reminded of her sitting on her knees, lapping up every drip of his cum when he had finished in her mouth. Greedy for it, he had soaked up every moment of her desperation. It was a cherished memory of his he would be happy to relive.

“Perv.” She smirked, shaking her head as she looked him in the eye, taking a long lick. If he was going to be flirty, she was going to return it right back. “Don’t start when we’re out here. If you’re going to be dirty, wait till we’re back in private.” Her hip bumped his before she started off on her own, leaving him to follow right on behind while watching her skirt sway.

—---

“Darling?” A soft voice woke her from her light sleep, cool fingertips brushing over her cheek. The warm ocean breeze and sound of the water and birds had lulled her into a state of relaxation while the sun had begun to set. Eyes peeled open to see Harry smiling down at her, shirt hanging off of his shoulders while he was bare underneath. He was bent down, arm resting on the back of the lounger while the other stroked her face. “There she is. Fell asleep?” He looked down at the book splayed out on her stomach and the half finished spritz on the side table, evidence of the accidental dozing.

“Yeah, m’sorry.” Knuckles reached up to rub at her eyes, peering up at him with a soft grin. “Didn’t mean to. The breeze felt really good.” Finishing with her no longer sleepy eyes, her fingers went to his wrist, urging his hand to cup her cheek the way she liked. “Did you have a good shower?”

Harry had left her out to relax while he had answered a few emails and took a shower, needing to wash the day off of him. Y/N had done so earlier when he had made them food, so it had been his turn. She had told him she was going to relax by the pool with her drink and book and she wasn’t too tired, but it was obvious the day had caught up with her a little bit.

“I did, yeah.” He stroked the apple of her cheek with his thumb, seeing her face relax into the hold he kept. “Missed you a little, though. Much more fun with you complaining about how it isn't hot enough.”

“Well, you take lukewarm showers at best. I like to feel a bit of burn.” She huffed, turning her face to bite the heel of his palm lightly to show her displeasure. “Rude. But, I missed you too. Come sit with me.”

Y/N’s body shuffled over, allowing him to lay on his side next to her. The size left little room between them, but Y/N remedied that as she moved her leg to hook over his waist, sighing as she snuggled up to him. Harry couldn’t control the flip flop his stomach did at her apparent comfort with him, feeling easy enough to do something like that with him. No hesitation now, lips pressed against the base of his throat before she settled in.

“Comfortable?” His voice murmured, hand falling to her bare back to stroke the warm expanse.

“Mhm.” Her replied was hummed, hand resting on his chest as she sagged into his hold. “I’m really happy.”

The words had sounded like it took her a moment to admit. His breath caught, looking at the top of her head as she kept her face tucked against his throat. Hiding a little bit, but he could understand why. Admitting things, feelings, it was intimidating. “Yeah?” He chuckled, letting his blunt nails run over her spine, memorizing the feeling of its ridges under the skin. “Good. That’s all I want for you. I wanted to take you away… let you feel relaxed for once.”

His words vibrated against her cheek, tickling her slightly. She hummed back, twirling the chain of his necklace around her finger. A force of habit now. “I am. It was a really good idea. I…” There was a pause, hesitation coating her tongue as she decided to go for it anyways. “I was really scared I messed this up completely. I didn’t want to hurt your feelings or make you feel like… Like you weren’t enough, or I wasn’t happy. I know we talked about it before, and I don’t want to ruin a good day with those thoughts, but I really like you and I loved how it felt when we were out earlier. Holding your hand, when you kissed me…” She swallowed the lump that had formed, his soothing fingers continuing their path. He knew what she needed. “It felt right. I know back at home, some people are probably going to have a lot to say, a lot of mean things probably, saying I’m in this for money or something and that you’ll get over me or whatever but I just want you to know that I think we could work.”

Mustering up the courage to pull back and look at his face, she looked into his own eyes. They looked light, but focused. Intent as he met her gaze, encouraging her to continue to speak. She had no idea how he felt, how he felt a little choked up himself at her words and her resolve over the both of them. “I think we could. I’m sorry I seemed so wishy-washy before with us. With putting labels and dancing round things. I was scared to ask for anything more because I enjoyed us together and I didn’t want to be a silly little girl and assume you’d want something with me.” There was a pregnant pause, Y/N’s eyes falling from his for a moment. “I know theres a lot against us. I’m half your age, you’re Lia’s dad, it’s going to cause problems but I-I really think it’s worth exploring. I don’t want you to get hurt by the repercussions and like I said, I know it’ll cause some issues but-”

Y/N’s words were cut off with his mouth. A deep kiss, fingers angling her up towards him and keeping her chin between his fingers as he locked their lips together, letting her feel him. Heat flushed in her body, leaning into it immediately. He had stolen her breath, a tiny whimper leaving her throat as he attempted to pull back. Her fingers tangled in his hair, tugging him back to her with a quiet mewl of ‘No’ before sealing their soft mouths back again, feeling his harsh exhale through his nose when she dragged her nails over his exposed chest and pulled back to peck his lips a few times. He eagerly responded, chasing her lips a few more times before giving a breathless chuckle, forehead resting against her own.

His heart thumped in his chest as he took a moment, opening his mouth to speak to her but failing. How could he possibly be able to tell her how much he actually appreciated her? He had to at least try.

“I don’t think words will be enough to accurately describe to you how much I feel for you already. I know. I know of the risks, the things people would say, the things that could possibly happen as a result. Trust me when I say that a relationship with you is all that has been clouding my mind for the last few weeks. I’ve thought through every scenario, as good and as bad as they could get, but none of them are as bad as the thought of losing out on being with you.”

His voice was slightly hoarse, the kiss and the mere passion he felt stealing some of the strength he usually had, but he powered on. “Y/N… I know I was cruel to you the other night. I was pathetically jealous, angry that it wasn’t me. That I couldn’t make it easier on you to be with me. I can’t control what people outside of myself do, and I should have conducted myself better but you…. You make me feel again. It’s unnerving and I felt raw and naked and hurt because I was letting you in and it felt like perhaps that wouldn’t be enough. That I’d be a phase. But it was cruel of me to underestimate you and think poorly of your intentions because of my own insecurities. As good as I try to be… I am still a man.” He laughed humorlessly, shaking his head. “A silly, jealous, needy man who wanted to rip the hands off of the guy in that photo for touching your shoulder. I wanted to storm down to the bar and toss you over my shoulder, take you home where you belong. When I realized I didn’t have a claim over you, it hurt. It made me feel bitter and irritated and then you showed up to my house, wearing a dress that you put on for another man… I went mad. But it wasn��t fair of me. I was feeling those same insecurities, and I didn’t let you speak. And for that, I’m sorry.” He returned to her chin, tilting it back up and pressing another lingering kiss to her lips before continuing.

“I want to be with you. I’ll take it all. I won’t let anyone be cruel to you, I will cherish you and this relationship, I’ll make you happy. I know we’ll have some growing pains and that it won’t necessarily be easy because of everyone else, but being with you? Being around you, feeling happy? It’s the easiest thing I’ve ever done.”

Y/N hated herself for it, but she felt the burn behind her eyes. To hear someone talk so passionately, to put themselves in a position at home that could cause him personal issues because he liked her so much, he felt so intensely for her? It had shook her to the core. It felt like no one else had ever cared about her this much. She could feel it, feel his affection in the way he kissed her. “Me too.” She peeped. “It’s- It’s so easy for me to be myself around you. I know it was weird at first because of how we met but it fell into such a rhythm so quickly a-and I like myself around you, H. I do. I think that’s what we’re supposed to feel in relationships. Right?” She sniffled, cursing under her breath as a tear escaped. “Sorry. I just feel a lot right now and I’m really happy.” A watery laugh made him smile, thumbing the salty tear away from her cheek.

“Don’t apologize to me for feeling.” It was a gentle scold. As much as tears from her would break his heart, he wanted her reactions unfiltered. There was a greed he couldn’t control when it came to information about Y/N. “I want to hear and see everything you feel. You underestimate just how curious I’ve been about how this pretty little brain works.” His damp finger tapped the tip of her nose, making her giggle again. “It is how you’re supposed to feel, I think. At least, it’s how I feel with you, too. It’s the best, isn’t it?” His arms pulled her back to his chest, smiling to himself as he felt her rub her face into his neck and play with his hair, warm breaths brushing his collarbone as she nodded in response.

“It is.” Her words were soft against him, pressing a series of gentle kisses to the side of his throat and working her way up to his jaw. “You make me feel things I’ve never felt before. Every day, it’s something new.” Her teeth grazed the hinge of his jaw, biting down delicately before pulling back to give him a grin. “I never want to stop learning with you.”

“I’ll make sure you never have to, sweetheart.” Lips brushed hers, stealing her breath. “We don’t have to tell everyone we’re together when we’re home, but… we can use this trip, see how good it feels. Work on it when we get back.” meaning they’d have to tell Lia. Something neither of them would look forward to, but it was going to be pushed back on this trip. “Just want to take this time to get to know you, to see bits of you that you’ve hidden away. Cruel little thing.” He clicked his tongue, letting his fingers brush her sides to make her squeal. She was a tiny bit ticklish there.

“I’ll let you know anything you want- but first lesson? Do not tickle me unless you want me to accidentally knee you in the balls.” She huffed. “I happen to quite like them, so don’t do that.”

“Noted, darling. Noted.”

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vintageshanny · 7 months ago

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Waiting for Love - Part Nine

There’s No Escaping

Content: March-April 1971, some smut and a lot of fluff. There will probably be a bit of angst in the next chapter if you bear with me. 18+

I have embedded a link here and within the story to my one shot For the First Time, since Elvis is recollecting his first experience.

Catch up on the series here: Waiting for Love

Late March 1971

“So, he’s really insisting on paying for your apartment?” Roxanne’s voice held a note of disbelief. “When you first told me that, I thought for sure he was just feeding you a line.”

“No, he actually was really upset when I told him I was looking for a new job or that I could move in with you. He wants to take care of me.” A little smile spread across Vivien’s lips as she remembered their conversation in the hospital bed. Their conversation and everything that came after… She tried not to blush as she thought about the sound of his moaning as he pulsed in her hand.

“Wow. He wants you to be a kept woman and you’re not even doing the deed yet?”

Vivien could feel the blush engulfing her now as she bit down on her bottom lip and looked away.

“Wait a second! Are you kidding me, Vivien? When?” Roxanne demanded, her voice equal parts anger and curiosity.

“Um, when I went to see his shows in Las Vegas,” Vivien whispered, adjusting her glasses and twirling a strand of hair nervously with her fingers.

“Vivien! That was a month ago! I asked you how the trip was, and you looked me in the face and told me it was fine.”

“Well you had just had a big fight with Michael. I didn’t want to gloat about what a magical time I had. Plus I didn’t lie! It was fine. Veeeery fine,” Vivien sighed with a big goofy smile.

“Okay,” Roxanne said, still sounding a little miffed. “Well, Michael and I are fine now, so give me all the juicy details.”

“So, when I first got there, he had picked out this beautiful dress for me to wear to the show…” Vivien started off, her mind drifting back to that evening as she replayed the events leading up to the big moment. “...and when I told him I was ready, he was just so patient and sweet and reassuring. He said he wanted to make sure it was special for me.” Vivien beamed and looked at Roxanne.

“Vivien!” Roxanne scolded. “That was very sweet, but there was not a juicy detail to be heard. How did it feel? How long did it last? Give me something!”

“Rox, you know I don’t like to share all that personal stuff. It feels like, like I’m betraying his confidence. And he already has a hard time knowing who to trust, I can tell.”

“You’re no fun,” Roxanne pouted.

“Okay, I will tell you that it felt amazing,” Vivien compromised. “I didn’t know I’d feel so…overwhelmed with emotion. When he was inside of me, it was like I felt complete. Like a missing piece of me was-”

“Inserted?” Roxanne filled in helpfully.

“Very funny!” Vivien chucked a pillow in Roxanne’s direction. “No, it was just so magical, I don’t know how else to describe it. I started to cry afterward. And he was just so understanding about it. He told me it was really special for him too, and he looked like he was about to cry also.”

“Wow,” Roxanne responded softly, trying to keep the suspicion out of her voice.

“What? You think he was putting on an act?”

“No, Viv, no, I just wonder how many women he’s been with and said that to. I’m happy for you, but you know I always worry.”

“Well, you don’t need to worry. I have someone to take care of me now. And I want to take care of him, too. He’s everything I was waiting for.” No amount of negativity could stop Vivien from floating on cloud nine.

*************************************************

Two weeks later

“Elvis?” Vivien asked as she nuzzled her head against his soft fuzzy chest.

“Yes, baby?” Elvis sounded tired but still alert. They were finally curled up in his bed at Graceland after watching movies for half the night at Crosstown Theater. The TV was playing softly, but Vivien had already set her glasses on the nightstand, so everything just looked fuzzy.

She fiddled with the button on his pajama top as Roxanne’s concerns refused to leave her mind. “How many women have you made love to?”

Elvis leaned up a little bit and glanced down at her, but she was very focused on a tiny stray thread coming off his button. He cleared his throat and tried a casual response. “What makes ya ask that?”

“I don’t know, I guess I was just curious. And maybe a little worried,” she admitted.

“Honey, ya ain’t got nothin’ ta be worried ‘bout. The past is the past. You’re here now cuz I want ya here.”

“I know. But for me, all these feelings are brand new. You’ve probably had this feeling lots of times, that someone is so special you can’t stop thinking about them. Maybe I’m just one in a long line of special girls.” Vivien swallowed the lump in her throat. “You’ve probably been making love for decades.”

Elvis tried to stifle his laughter at her nervous declarations. “Decades, huh? You’re makin’ me feel old, baby.”

“You know what I mean, though, right? How do you know your feelings for me won’t pass? Did you feel that your first time was this special?”

Elvis quietly reflected back on his first time all those years ago as he rubbed his thumb soothingly over Vivien’s shoulder. “Naw, honey, it was nothin’ like this. I had waited a long time, or at least it felt like a long time. I was ‘bout 19 or so, and I s’pose I jus’ really wanted ta experience what it was like. All these girls throwin’ themselves at me, and I didn’t even know what it was like ta really be with one in that way, y’know. The gal, well she had been around a little bit I think, but she was sweet too. Sweeter than I thought she’d be. She musta guessed how inexperienced I was, but she didn’t make me feel bad ‘bout it.”

VIvien just listened silently as Elvis opened up to her in this way. She could tell from the start that he could be shy and sensitive, but he usually covered it up quickly with little jokes. Now, though, it was like his heart was totally exposed. She didn’t want to speak and spook him back into his defense mechanisms.

“I did feel like it was somethin’ special at the time, but nothin’ like how I feel ‘bout you, Vivien. And the other women, I mean, I can’t give ya an exact count, honey, but it’s probably not so many as people might think. There was a time in the army when I got a little wild I s’pose, tryin’ ta hide my loneliness after…” he trailed off for a second before continuing. “But it didn’t mean anything. And love-makin’ that don’t mean anything, what’s the point in that? It took me a few years really to realize how unfulfilled I was jus’ foolin’ around with whoever happened along. I need a mental, emotional connection to a woman to really be satisfied. And I ain’t never felt so connected ta someone as I do ta you, baby. Ya understand me?”

Vivien nodded, her eyes welling with tears

“Baby, feelings like this, they don’t just pass. Ya got me in your clutches, woman.”

Vivien leaned up and pressed a soft kiss to the side of his face, right where the little silver roots of his sideburns were growing in. “You’ve got me in yours, too. There’s no escaping.”

Elvis smiled but remained a little bit pensive. “I got a question for you now, baby. Would ya still love me if I weren’t Elvis Presley?”

Confusion flashed across Vivien’s face. “If you weren’t you? Who would you be instead?”

“Naw, I’d still be me, but I wouldn’t be, y’know, superstar Elvis Presley. Maybe I’d be electrician Elvis Presley. Or truck driver Elvis Presley. Or washed-up entertainer Elvis Presley. Or…”

“Okay, I get it,” Vivien smiled as she put a finger to his lips.

“I’m serious honey, what if I jus' decided ta stop tourin’? Would ya still love me?”

“Of course I would. There’s no question in my mind.” Vivien answered without hesitation.

“But when ya came ta meet me, it was because I’m famous, right?” Elvis challenged. “I mean, I know ya said ya were jus’ passin’ by on your way home, but I had some trouble believin’ that,” he added with a little wink.

Vivien blushed and considered how she could explain herself. “Okay, maybe I purposely took that way home hoping I’d get to catch a glimpse of you one day,” she admitted. “But not because you’re famous. Did you ever stop and think how you got so famous?”

“Right place at the right time?” Elvis guessed humbly.

“No, it’s just not possible for that to be the only explanation. Elvis, there’s something in you that touches people’s souls. That’s why they love you. Your voice is a beautiful gift, but it’s that light in you that people are drawn to. Even truck driver Elvis would be able to capture my heart with that light. And your intelligence, your kindness, your goofiness…these are the reasons I love you. Not because they’re gonna vote to name the street after you. Although it will make it a lot easier to remember your address,” Vivien teased.

Elvis chuckled and wiped the tears that had formed in his eyes. “Honey, ya have no idea how much that all means ta me ta hear that. It’s hard always havin’ ta question if people really like ya for yourself or cuz they want somethin’ from ya.”

“Well, I will reassure you as many times as you need to hear it.” Vivien whispered, toying again with the button at his chest.

“Baby, you’re gonna pop that button right off. If ya want me ta take my shirt off, jus’ say so.”

“Okay. I want you to take your shirt off. And everything else.”

Elvis let out the big uninhibited laugh that Vivien loved so much. “Oh yeah? Ya gonna have your way with me?”

Vivien nodded as she eagerly unbuttoned his shirt. “Absolutely. There’s no escaping for you either.” She leaned down and kissed him deeply while her fingertips traced over his exposed chest, drawing a soft moan from his lips.

Elvis pulled her nightie up over her head and let his eyes linger on her bare chest. “Baby, would ya do me a favor? Would ya get on top of me and bounce up and down on me? I wanna see your beautiful body while we make love.”

Vivien nodded shyly. “I would do anything for you.”

She pulled his pajama pants down his legs, exposing his semi-hard penis. As she made her way back up, she stopped to lavish her attention on this magnificent appendage, running her tongue over every inch, savoring the taste of his salty skin in her mouth.

“Oh, dammit baby, c’mere and take me all the way in,” Elvis moaned, reaching for her hands. He helped her balance as she straddled his midsection and slowly, carefully lowered herself onto his dick, consuming him with her warm welcoming pussy.

Vivien somewhat tentatively rocked her hips, unsure of exactly what motions he wanted her to do. She felt a little bit self-conscious as he watched her, his eyes clouding over with lust as he watched her breasts bounce with each movement.

“That’s right baby, jus’ like that.” He grabbed her hips with his large hands and helped her find the right rhythm.

“Oh, God, Elvis,” Vivien cried out as he pushed his hips upwards into her, his dick so deep inside of her she could barely handle the pleasure. Elvis grabbed her hands and helped hold her upright as her body rocked forward in ecstasy.

“Yes, baby, tell me how good it feels,” Elvis moaned as Vivien cried out his name again and again. He could feel his warm seed spurting inside of her as she came down from her high, laying her bare chest against his. “Honey, that was so beautiful,” he whispered in her ear, running his long fingers through her hair.

“Mm-hmm,” she responded lazily, her lips pressed against his soft shoulder.

As she finally rolled off and back into the crook of his arm, she smiled a little bit. “Y’know, I was a little surprised that you weren’t even younger your first time. What with you being so handsome and all, every girl probably wanted you.”

Elvis chuckled and closed his eyes, thinking back on his high school days. “Naw baby, I had some dates, but I wasn’t too much of a ladies’ man. People thought I was kind of a weirdo back then.”

“Oh just back then, huh? If only they could see you now,” Vivien teased.

“Hey now woman, I don’t think ya wanna start debatin’ ‘bout who the weirdo is,” Elvis laughed, reaching over to tickle her sides. “Aren’t ya the one who likes ta give Little Elvis a goodnight kiss?”

Vivien giggled. “Oh, speaking of that, I should make sure he’s doing okay. And thank him for the ride.” She inched down to give out some sweet kisses as Elvis let out some strange hybrid noise, half laughing, half moaning.

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#elvis #elvis smut #elvis fanfiction #elvis fan fic #elvis fan fiction #Elvis x oc #waiting for love #i love this man

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obislittleone · 11 months ago

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The Winner Takes It All

Episode 6

Pairing: Finnick Odair x Tribute(OC)!Reader

Chapter Warnings: Again, reader has terrible anxiety, and Finnick is sweet about it. Mentions of bullying, and thoughts of death. Mentions of sexual harassment and trafficking.

Chapter Summary: The Caesar Flickerman show is a requirement of all tributes, and talking in front of thousands of people has never been your forte.

Word Count: 5.3k

Damnit the angst in this part is so dramatic and juicy and UGH i live for it (expect more dramatic angsty parts like this in season two)

How could he have been caught like this? The great Finnick Odair didn’t go soft, especially for the yearly tributes that filtered in and out. It was foolish to think something like that. But it was true, because he has. He’s gone soft, and he’s standing out here, thinking about his female tribute, instead of inside telling stories and charming all of the other victors that were present.

Dalton worked tirelessly, his hands resting at his side once he’d placed the final shell. You looked like the ocean incarnate, a beautiful creature of the waters and the sands.

“Remember the strategy. Play it sweet, keep your head up, and don’t let anyone know-”

“About the s-swimming. I r-remember,” you finished for him, nodding in understanding of his small informative.

“Lie if you have to, just don’t let it come up.”

You huffed out a breath, trying to keep calm. While in the dressing room, you have no access to the TVs or the soundstage or anything that gives you a preview of what is about to happen, but all of that changes as soon as you stand up, leaving the makeup chair and going out to the backstage greenroom.

The dress was becoming uncomfortable, and made you feel exposed yet again. It was lovely, and you hoped the people responsible for your possible future would think so. It was sick, but you wanted them to like you. All the tributes did.

Your hands were shaking as you watched Lukas walk out from the wings, appearing on the stage with a wave to everyone. The cheers were loud, he’s definitely one of the favorites this year. Every second that passed was just one closer to the arena, but if you were being honest, you’d rather be there than here. Talking was already your biggest challenge, but now being broadcasted to everyone in Panem, especially to those who could determine whether you win or lose, it was amplified by a million. You could barely breathe, and the nerves were making your head spin.

Your eyes got cloudy with fog, and you reached out to the wall beside you to try and grasp something of substance. You tried to calm down, to be strong and brave in the face of uncertainty.

“Hey, you alright?”

You jumped in surprise, your elevated heart rate soaring through the roof for only a second before you turned to see your mentor, concern woven in his features.

“N-n-no. I c-can’t do t-t-this,” your lips were trembling as you spoke, and Finnick knew that of all the preparations and requirements for the tributes, this one was probably the worst of all for you. When he saw your eyes watering to the brink of spilling over, he had to think fast.

“C’mere,” he didn’t give any room for negotiation before wrapping two strong arms around your form, making an impenetrable safe space, however little it may last. “Breathe with me.”

You nodded, knowing that until you could calm down, words would absolutely fail you. It was inevitable, your interview. You couldn’t just back out. It was required of all the tributes.

You breathed in through your nose in time with him, and let him count to three before exhaling through your mouth. This process was repeated about three or four more times before you felt even a semblance of control over yourself again. Even when you were steady again, he did not let you go. He just stood there quietly, letting you feel secure. He watched the screen across from you both over your shoulder, hearing the words of his other tribute. Lukas was doing phenomenal. He could win it all, the crown, the glory, the title. Finnick would finally have a victor… but at the cost of your life. He wasn’t so sure he wanted to make that trade anymore. He didn’t want a victor if it couldn’t be you.

Caesar finished off the interview, standing to his feet and raising Lukas’ hand in the air. The crowd adored him, his charming smile and his admiration of his district's culture. He’d even thrown in a very complimentary word to the Capitol, which of course, was always a sure way to invoke their support.

Finnick knew that after a short commercial break, the show must continue. You had to go out there.

“It’s almost time,” he backed away slowly, and not too far. He didn’t want to run the risk of you becoming that anxious again.

“T-time to sell a s-stutter to the Capitol,” you murmured, echoing the words he had at once not meant to say. You understood now, the meaning wasn’t malicious, or cruel. He genuinely wanted to help you, and he was just struggling to do so with such unwalked territory. The last tribute to ever have a speech impediment was Mags, and at the time, the games were presented a lot differently. Hell, she was the first to ever embark on a victory tour.

The stakes were higher, now. With more chances to be seen as the unfavorable one, you had to focus hard. Try to remember all the things that Finnick and Arbin have said, and what will make you seem more likable to the pompous Capitol citizens.

“Just get through this, and you don’t have to speak to anyone the rest of the night. I’ll make sure of it,” he promised. You did not know if he was the type to keep his promises, but he was the only person in this game of manipulation and tragedy that you felt you could trust… so you believed him.

Walking out onto the shiny black stagetop, the lights were immediately your greatest friend, blocking you from being able to see the crowd clearly, and how they looked at you. There were sounds of applause and cheers of your names, which you didn’t expect to hear after only being presented to them once.

“There she is! Our newest mermaid!” Caesar said excitedly, his hand beckoning you to sit across from him. You wore a smile, though it was more nervous than genuine.

Once the crowd died down a little, he looked at you with a browsing eye, clearly taking in your appearance and trying to pinpoint anything he can say about it. It was his job after all, and he was very good at it.

“The shells are a nice touch, I must say. I was loving them during the parade,” he began, and you smiled quickly, trying your best to come up with a response in a reasonable amount of time.

“T-thank you. I c-collected shells in f-four,” you sighed out the rest of your breath when you finished, and all at once you could hear the collective gasp from several audience members. You weren’t sure if you should take it as a good thing or a bad thing.

“My dear, you seem nervous,” he leaned in closer with his microphone, as if it somehow made it more personal.

An embarrassed blush spread over your face, and you didn’t know if you should play along or just confess. There was a fifty-fifty chance that it could land in your favor… but you didn’t want to stammer through your interview and leave people wondering why. They might dislike you even more for that.

“I’m a little n-nervous, but I a-al-also have a stutter.” It came out worse than how you thought it might. You almost sounded unsure of yourself, as if you haven’t struggled with it since you were a kid. “I’m so-sorry if it makes it hard t-to unders-stand me.”

“How sweet. Well, my dear, I will tell you, we can read you loud and clear,” he paused, coming closer again and trying to make it seem to the crowd like a more intimate moment. “And I’ll say on behalf of everyone in this room, we find it very endearing… don’t we folks?!”

Again the crowd erupted into a fit of cheers and clapping, and you felt some semblance of relief that it hadn’t been to your detriment, for the first time in your life. How sick and twisted was the world, that you had to be exposed to a possible gruesome death in order for your speech to be appreciated?

You felt a more genuine and relaxed smile fall on your lips, and you turned to the crowd for the first time in the interview, seeing them clearer from where you sat. There were women, hands over their chests as if in admiration of you, which you could definitely say was a first. There were others who looked to you with pity, but you didn’t so much mind it now for what it meant. Pity could also mean sponsors, so you didn’t feel badly about it now.

“Alright, alright. So,” he sat back and looked at you narrowly. “You are being considered the most beautiful tribute of this year's games. I imagine you’ve heard some of the talk…”

You furrowed your brow for a moment. You were surprised to hear this, especially from someone in the Capitol. You hadn’t been paying as much attention to the other tributes in the parade, and certainly not in the interviews considering your panic attack, but you were almost certain you could not be the most beautiful tribute this year. And even if you were, you’d much rather be known for something else. Beauty was an asset in the games, but skill usually was more favorable by the rich elite who spent their money on tributes.

“I h-haven’t heard an-anything, no.”

“I can say confidently, you will certainly be setting the beauty trends should you return as the victor. Panem is wishing to be as desirable as you.”

You smiled and ducked your head, the spotlight on your outer appearance made you feel exposed yet again, and you tried to hide the embarrassment as much as you could. You need them to like you.

“I’ve n-never cons-sidered myself that w-way,” you wanted to try and divert the conversation, but you weren’t sure if that was even allowed, or if the entire interview had to be steered by Caesar.

“And she’s humble, too. My dear, you are quite wonderful I must say. It seems you have it all, the heart, the stunning good looks… but what about skills? We all were very impressed with your score, and I know we’re all wondering what got you there? Can we talk about that?”

Though you lacked many, you were happy to change the topic to your skillset. You just wanted to stop being seen as an object… you want them to like you, you want them to like y-

“Y-yes. I’m very st-strong. I w-was a loader down b-by the docks.”

“Amazing! And of course we can all assume you are indeed a real life mermaid, can we not?”

It felt grimy to pretend, but Finnick and Dalton said not to let anyone know, any means necessary. So you’d put on a smile and lie straight to Caesar’s face and everyone else's.

“Of c-course. The w-water is my h-home,” you smiled, and you could imagine how proud your mentors were backstage right now. It was said so convincingly that you even believed it yourself for a moment.

“It’s been wonderful to have you here with me tonight. I’ll be very excited to watch you in the games, and I know that everyone here will be rooting for you,” he said, although it wasn’t true, and you knew it. Everyone in the Capitol was picking and choosing their favorites tonight, and sad as it was to say, you were not the better of two district four tributes. You both stood up, and just like with all the others, he raised your hand in the air while the onlookers cheered. You smiled and faced them once before preparing to take your leave from the stage. “Our lovely female tribute from district four, everyone!”

And the first person you saw when you came off the stage was Lukas, who was clapping for you.

You knew he’d done infinitely better than you had, but seeing him clap for you felt nice. Someone of high importance it seemed, gave you the praise you were due.

“You did great,” he complimented, giving a pat to your shoulder as you started walking alongside him.

“T-thanks. I t-tried real hard.”

The next one to give you a smile in congratulations was Mags, who fully embraced you once you were before her. She gave a silent thumbs up and you smiled back at her, warm and full of adoration. She truly was the role model you looked up to. The only other person who could have possibly understood what you were going through, and still handled everything with grace.

At last you saw Finnick, and though he was happy with your performance, he seemed sullen since last you saw him. It was only ten minutes, maybe even less. What has changed?

“You put on a good show, they like you,” he said to you, first, a bitter taste in his mouth at the last words. Still, he couldn’t yet voice his concern, so he broadened his gaze to the two tributes, forcing a thin smile onto his lips. “I’m proud of you both.”

Though you were happy he’d been pleased, you couldn’t help but find distraction in the way he was acting, now. He promised you wouldn’t have to talk to anyone for the remainder of the night, but you wondered if perhaps he would do the talking if you were to ask.

He seemed, for lack of a better word, stiff. Like he was uncomfortable suddenly and all at once. He nodded towards the doorway, as if to signal the group’s leave to everyone, and walked until he found Arbin by the exit, still watching a screen of the interview with one of district five’s tributes.

He knows he has to talk to you.

He has to warn you about what you don’t know is coming. You have better chances of winning now than maybe anyone in that arena because of the circumstances, but you have no idea about what it will cost you afterwards if you survive.

He knows you’re tired, and he knows that he’s been the one avoiding you all night, skipping dinner and leaving the group at a moment’s notice after the Flickerman show. It doesn’t stop him from marching up to your door and rapping his knuckles against it three times.

You were slow to get up, but eventually, the door cracked open, and you stood there, white night gown on and peeking through the space.

“I thought y-you were Mags,” you whispered, not realizing that these halls didn’t echo that badly. You didn’t want to wake up Lukas, who was right down the hall.

“Yeah,” he shuffled on his feet awkwardly, his form balancing on one foot then the other in his state of nerves. “I know I told you that you wouldn’t have to talk anymore tonight, but I was hoping I could… share some things with you.”

You opened the door further, allowing him in. He hesitated, seeing how pretty you looked in the Capitol’s silken pajamas. You haven’t utilized the interchangeable settings of your window screen, so the moonlight from outside casts you in a silvery glow. You look, for lack of a better word, angelic. He shuffles in after realizing he’s waited too long, trying to gather his brain back together before sitting on the edge of your bed. You join him, scooting back against the pillows and tucking your feet beneath the comforter.

You don’t say a word, because he promised you wouldn’t have to, but suddenly he doesn’t know where to begin. He has to think back to his first initial thoughts from your interview. The words beautiful and endearing came to mind. The same words used for him and several other tributes who’d been dealt the same hand as he was. The same hand you would be dealt if things had progressed the way they were now.

“The Capitol is a strange place, I’m sure you’ve noticed,” he was building up to it, far too afraid to cut to the chase. “They obviously love the games. The tributes, the shows, the arena, all of it.”

He can’t seem to look you in the eye anymore, staring down at your fresh white linen that lines your bed perfectly.

“The richer ones, they like to pick favorites, send sponsors and all that…” he didn’t want to say it, but he had to. He didn’t want you to feel the same unexpected terror he once did as a young boy, far too young for what he had to do. “But after the games, if their tribute wins, President Snow has made it possible for them to have a certain… access to that tribute.”

It was only now that he looked up to see your expression. You were confused, your brows strewn together and a slight tilt in your head. It was obvious you didn’t understand.

“If you’re seen as beautiful, or desirable, Snow will sell you to the highest bidder… your body, at least.”

You could grasp it now. It snapped in your head and you had to take a moment, recounting the interview and the phrasing used. You were unsure what to do or how to feel. You’d never felt desired in your whole life, but you were certain it should not feel as sorrowful as this. You don’t want to feel desired, you don’t want to feel beautiful or anything else that would put you in that position.

Your eyes welled up with tears, but you didn’t let them fall, you just let it all sink in.

“After the i-interview,” you began, clearing your throat. “You s-said you were proud of m-me, but you looked upset.”

“I’m still proud of you… I just don’t want you to go through it like I did,” he dropped his head again, his face turning red at the admission. He’d spoken on it before, sometimes with the other tributes. Among several of them, it wasn’t exactly a secret… but you hadn’t been in that arena yet. You’d barely witnessed the craze of the Capitol, and didn’t understand the full weight of it all… but he had to warn you. Wanted you to know what could happen if you win.

He only looked up when he felt a shift on the bed, your body moving to sit beside him as your hand took up his and squeezed it tight.

“I’m sorry,” it was whispered very quietly, but he heard it and was thankful.

“Yeah, me too.”

He sat there in silence, not saying another word, but just being beside you and enjoying the warmth you brought him. You were always so warm, untouched by the cool waves of the ocean, but instead infused with the heat of the sun's rays, forever shining down on the sand you loved to reside on. Where you walked along the shore and collected shells, never once dipping a toe in the water for fears it would carry you out into its depths. You were strong, and you were persistent, but something about the water, the crashing waves and the line that separated the sky from the seas, had scared you endlessly.

“Do you still h-have to?” your voice squeaked into the air, soft and delicate, but the question held weight. “You don’t have to t-tell me if you d-don’t want to.”

He shook his head, turning to you with a gentle smile. “It’s okay. I’ve been out for about a year now. That’s the thing about the Capitol, it’s always looking for the newer and better thing.”

You gave him a skeptical look.

“And they t-think that’s me?”

“You shouldn’t sell yourself short,” he said, taking you in for a moment. Obviously, the people in the Capitol were right. “You are beautiful. I just wish you could feel that way without all the extra baggage.”

Your head bowed forwards to hide the blush creeping over your cheeks. You felt far more beautiful under his stare than under the Capitol’s. His eyes, mimicking the greens of the sea, the waves that usually intimidated you, but now you felt calmed by them, letting them ravish every inch they glazed over.

“Thanks.”

He raised your joined hands to his lips, pressing a simple kiss to them before letting them fall back by your side. He stood to his feet, letting go of you completely, and walked towards the door.

“Goodnight, Mercy.”

The mentors never slept the night before the games, as much as they would like to say that they did. Even against their own advice, ‘get a good night's rest before tomorrow, it’s very important.’

Finnick had visited the winner’s circle, home of all the former tributes now victors who also couldn’t sleep on a night like this. They tried to distract themselves, by sitting amongst one another, catching up and talking as if tomorrow was just another day. It helped to a degree, but they would all inevitably go back to their tribute floors, and would lay awake until it was time to send off their new batch of unwilling recruits.

He was standing by the edge of an outdoor balcony talking to Johanna Mason, the winner from last year. She was nice enough, although a bit bitter towards everyone she met. He knew it was misplaced, and rightfully so. It’s not like she can go around shouting threats at the Capitol. Even though nobody here would hate her for trying.

She was dealt the same cards as he was, except she was the victim of what happens when you refuse. Her father was taken away, likely killed within the walls of a peacekeeper’s interrogation room, reasoning be damned. He didn’t want his tributes to face any of that, but most of all his Mercy, the one who had warmed him up to finally connecting with a tribute again. That nickname was bad news if it was used in the arena, but outside… it was sweet, and it was gentle, and it described the female tribute of district four almost perfectly.

By the time Johanna had gotten to the bottom of her drink, she excused herself to get another, saying something about ‘getting drunk enough to crash.’

He smiled and waved her off, but felt worse when she left, now having a whole new array of things to think about and without anyone to intercede on his mental turmoil.

He leaned over the balcony, overlooking the city. The buildings are tall and beautiful, built as if the districts never existed, and the world was full of only life and prosperity. Knowing that those buildings cost the resources and lifeblood of many people made them less intriguing. Knowing who lived within them made him feel sick to his stomach, even. His old customers, clientele of different ages, genders, and social status. Once thing they all had in common? Power over him. Power that Snow gave them to have whatever they wanted and without remorse. Finnick hated thinking about the things he was forced to do, hated the things that others get to do freely and enjoy them, without feeling disgusting or worthless after.

All his life he can’t remember a moment when he enjoyed intimacy. He can’t remember even one point in his years when he was satisfied by it. Worse, he can’t remember a time when he didn’t resent his own body for it.

Seeing how brave others like Johanna were, saying no and simply reaping the consequences made him feel weak, like he was too scared of the big guys to say anything. Truth be told, he just had too much at stake.

Now that he was out of it, he’d been thinking that maybe it was time to try and explore that part of himself again. Without pressure, without resentment, and without the threats looming over his head, that someone might die or be harmed if he doesn’t comply.

Maybe you are the start of that. He isn’t sure what it is exactly that he feels for you, but he knows that it’s different than what he feels for Lukas, or for any of the other tributes he’s met in his time as a mentor. Not only did he connect with you, but you latched back onto him, clinging and hoping that he was your way out. Even if you didn’t feel like you could win, he knew he was a comfort to you, and his heart was lighter for the fact.

He thinks that he could see himself growing to know you better, growing to be close. He thinks that he can sit one day in the future and listen to you ramble on about all the little things that bring you joy, all the things that no one else would care to hear, much less with a stutter… but he’ll listen, and he’ll smile at how excited you get, even if you can’t get the words out correctly.

“Here he is, the life of the party,” came a familiar voice behind him. Haymitch Abernathy, the district 12 winner of the second quarter quell, a feat of incredible proportions given the strength required for that year. He’d been drinking nonstop ever since that year, and even now, he waltzed up to the ledge with two glasses in his hand. “Thought you could use one of these.”

“Thanks,” Finnick gratefully took one of the glasses, filled with some sort of string liquor that he didn’t even care to hear the name of. If it could help settle him down, he was thankful for it either way. “How are things going this year?”

“Oh you know, same old story. Girl is thirteen and hadn’t eaten for three days before the reaping. Boy is sixteen but skinny as a pole and no experience in anything but stocking trucks.”

Finnick smiles sadly. This man has gone through far more tributes than Finnick ever has, and the sad thing is that he will go through far more than Finnick ever will. Four is a career district, it will again produce winners, but twelve hasn’t had a shot since Haymitch, and it seems they never will.

“I’d offer my tributes as allies, but I’m not sure how fond of twelve the other careers would be…” Finnick says it to be kind, but he knows better, and so does Hyamitch. There’s no point because they will either die in the bloodbath or by sunset of the first night. The longest Haymitch’s tributes have lasted was two days, and that was purely because of luck and a single sponsor that felt bad enough to send a piece of bread.

“Won’t make a difference, but I appreciate it,”

There was silence between the two as they sipped their drinks for a moment, looking into the small gathering of mentors on the inside of the building. It was strange to see all his friends interacting on the inside, while out here, he was just trying to pass the time. He was always the center of attention at gatherings like these. Completely and totally the focal point, with all his interesting stories and charming notions, easy conversations forming at the drop of a hat, and he was always happy to indulge.

“You’ve got a winner this year, y’know.”

Haymitch turned to him, and Finnick was sure he knew of whom the man spoke. It was obvious that his tributes were the favorites, but furthermore, Lukas was the top dog. He had the perfect score, the adoring fans, the charm and the talent. He was smart and willful, and unlike you, he had confidence that he had a shot. Even after you’d proven yourself, you still felt unworthy to the task.

“So I’ve heard,” Finnick bowed his head, unsure if he wanted to further this conversation. He didn’t want to hear about how the male tribute was going to emerge victorious while he would have to grieve the loss of the other. “Lukas is…”

“I’m not talking about him,” Haymitch interjected. It seemed he had an eye to see things that no one else could. “That girl of yours, she has something that the others don’t.”

Finnick couldn’t say he wasn’t shocked to hear it. Haymitch had to have been the only person that only favored you, but would bet on you as well. Even over the top tribute. Lukas was a shining star, but everyone was expecting him to be exactly what he was.

“Really? And what’s that?”

“The element of surprise.”

It seemed stupid at first, but the longer he thought about it, letting the words process and make sense.

You have a sweetness about you, it’s something found in the more docile tributes, the ones who are seen as weak. It makes you seem as though you’re not a threat, hence why the nickname would have been a bad thing to spread around… except maybe it’s not. You had a perfect score. You are strong, skillful and smart. You have the trio of things needed to survive and thrive… but it isn’t expected of you. You are expected to be kind, to be gentle, and to be merciful.

That’s the kicker. You are not expected to behave a certain way in the arena, so therefore, when you do… it will catch other tributes off guard. They won’t see you coming.

“That’s uh… I hadn’t really thought about it,” Finnick lied. Of course he had thought about it. You were the one he was rooting for the most, so obviously he pictured you as the victor throughout the last several days.

Haymitch is smart, too. He can call out a lie when he sees one.

“I think you have. You want her to win, don’t you?”

“I just want a victor.”

Haymitch found his reply so amusing, he genuinely laughed in return. Who does he think he’s fooling?

“Yeah, me too…”

And Finnick knows that no matter how much he doesn’t want it to show, and no matter how badly he wants to keep his expressions and to himself, Haymitch knows that there’s something more. Something different.

He thinks to himself, and finds that no one else needs to know of this until the games are over. If You emerge as the victor, it makes Finnick’s life infinitely better, but should you fall, he’ll fall back into the slump he was in before. Even if he produces a victor, he won’t be satisfied until it’s you.

“I think she might be the best tribute going into that arena… but I can’t prove it.”

Haymitch smiled at his confession. And so the truth is revealed.

“And why is that? What’s so special about her?”

“You said it yourself, she has the element of-”

“No, no… I mean, why do you think she’s special?” Haymitch sipped his drink, finding himself near the bottom. The conversation would come to a close soon whether he liked it or not, because if there was one thing he couldn’t stand, it was having an empty liquor glass.

Finnick didn’t even have an answer. Intuition, Instinct, Divination, a Sixth Sense even. Whatever you want to call it, that’s how he knows. He knows you are the best and he hopes that it’s enough… But then again, he is standing outside, and he is thinking about someone other than himself, and you are most definitely the cause. How could that possibly be?

“She humbled me.”

And there it is.

Haymitch has a smirk drawn across his mouth, the edges coated with whatever whiskey he’d poured himself and Finnick only minutes ago. He chuckled and stepped away from the balcony, ready to leave the discussion where it was.

“A massive accomplishment indeed.”

tags(open): @thepassionatereader @i-voluntears @secretsicanthideanymore @mystargirl-interlude @c4ttheart @lilibrn

#thg finnick #finnick odair x oc #finnick odair x reader #finnick x reader #finnick odair #finnick x you #finnick imagine #sam claflin x reader #sam claflin #thg series #the hunger games #hunger games fanfiction

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