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t1red-twilight · 3 days ago

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through the ages

part 3

content/warnings: gn!reader, spencer’s pov, season 4, angsty, past!spencelle, guilt, jealousy, crashout lol

notes: bring back men who yearn

word count: 3.1k

masterlist series masterlist s. r. masterlist

prev. part

the office was quiet. spencer showed up early, just as he always did. this was the only time he could hear the buzz of the electricity, and the soft thrum of the heating and cooling system. after setting his things down, spencer headed into the kitchenette to make a coffee.

he knew that pretty soon you’d be in, so he fashioned one for you as well. best case scenario, you’d be in when it had cooled down a little. you took your coffee sweet, but nowhere near as sweet as his was. “diabetes inducing,” you’d called it. he’d told you that type 2 diabetes would have to be triggered by many more habits than just his coffee consumption. you’d laughed, despite him not joking.

your desk was conjoined with his, a pane of glass separated them. he walked to your desk and set the coffee cup down and sat in his office chair. your mugs were part of a set: yours had a star pattern and his had moons. he had still taken the care to label both of them with your corresponding names.

by the time you had come in, it was a quarter to eight. you usually showed up at about this time, only ever held back if you missed your train or the traffic got bad on the off chance you took your car.

“spencer!” you exclaimed when you got to your desk. “thank you for the coffee! how are you doing this morning?” it was as if your voice physically brightened the room, alleviating the harsh led lights.

your voice was melodic, it rung in a way that scratched every itch in his brain. “it was no problem. it should be relatively warm by now.” he smiled, hoping his cheeks weren’t too red. he lifted his mug to his lips and sipped a mouthful of coffee.

oh, you had asked his how he was. he thumbed the corner of his mouth where a droplet remained, and answered your question. he gazed over the glass pane dividing you where you had sat. “i’m doing okay,” he stated.

“just okay?” you followed. one of your eyebrows quirked up, you smiled crookedly. the glint in your eye; ah, you were teasing him.

he took another sip of his coffee and set down his mug. “well, not enough has happened today to say whether today has been good or bad,“ he answered. you leaned back in your chair and smiled at his response. “also, are you free tonight? there’s a film screening that I wanted to go to. it’s in korean, and there isn’t a translation yet, but i can whisper a translation to you like i did last time. did you want to go with me?”

an apologetic look blossomed on your face. before you even spoke, spencer knew what your answer would be. “sorry, i have plans.” you paused, almost as if you were contemplating on if you should say the next part. “i have a date.” his heart dropped to his stomach. a date? of all things that could occupy your time it had to be a date?

spencer swallowed down the sinking feeling that grew inside him. he nodded before he spoke, trying desperately to hold onto his composure; you could not, under any circumstances find out about anything. “oh, okay. i’ll let you know how it goes, though.” he stretched his lips into a smile as casually as he could. “it should be a good one.“

you took a sip of the coffee he had made for you. “please do! next time i’ll definitely come with you,” you stated. your eyebrows were slightly pulled together, and your smile had dropped but not disappeared. it would’ve been much more desirable to melt into his office chair than look at the expression of remorse that you showed.

the paperwork that he was normally completed speedily glared up at him. typical office days usually droned on and on, but something about his earlier interaction with you set him off.

suddenly, the taking of the clock pounded in his ears. he couldn’t focus, and he was always good at focusing. what about your plans was setting him off?

the times new roman print stared at him, waiting for him to do something. the contrast of the black lettering on white background burned his eyes the longer he looked at it. the bustling sound of the office grated his ears.

he felt selfish for the feeling of surprise that swelled in him when you had stated that you had a date. he felt even worse when he had the brief hope that you wouldn’t have another date any time soon. there was a piece of him that wanted to spend every waking moment with you and another very real piece that just wanted you to be happy. perhaps he was merely biding his time until he wasn’t the most important relationship you had.

it was just a date, just one. two dates was not guaranteed, and a lifelong romantic relationship was definitely not guaranteed. memorized statistics assured him of that. this was fine, you’d go on your date and go to work and it’d be perfectly fine. but why did he even care that you had a date? It shouldn’t matter to him.

how dare he think he could have any opinion over your love life? your friendship meant a lot to him, and he knew that it meant a lot to you as well. slipping into a jealous insecure mindset would only hurt his friendship with you.

he looked again at his file. he had already completed one or two, and was midway through another. he could just go home and watch way too much doctor who and pass out on his couch once he finished his paperwork.

by lunchtime he had pushed down his downtrodden feelings in exchange for attempted apathy. it did not help that every time he looked up over the glass pane he saw you, dutifully accomplishing your paperwork.

your forehead crinkled and your lips pursed. you’d comment or ask questions regarding the case you were filling out every now and then and it didn’t seem you noticed his minor distress. as far as you were concerned you were just friends, best friends maybe.

liking you the way he did felt like betrayal, or even like he was lying. you saw him as a friend, he saw you as something else: the difference in this perception felt almost gross to him. he’d known you for a couple of years at this point and felt this way for most of it and everything had gone fine until now. so, hopefully he couple continue to shove his insecurity everything down until you were just his friend again.

spencer had decided not to go to the film festival at all. later, he met up with morgan, and derek had dragged him to a bar that wasn’t too far from the office.

he figured that it wasn’t worth it to go to the film festival if you couldn’t participate in his ideal activity, which was spending time with you. it didn’t take long for derek to realize that something was definitely up.

the two of them were sitting at the bar top, derek had an alcoholic drink in front of him, spencer was drinking a water. “all right. pretty boy, what’s up?” derek asked outright. this caught spencer off guard, as he was trying desperately to seem like everything was going perfectly okay.

“what do you mean?” spencer replied, his voice lowered. he avoided eye contact, but tried to keep his face as deadpan as possible. given their profession, obviously this wasn’t working. derek took note of his slump of his shoulders, and the pattern he was repeatedly tapping on the countertop.

derek rolled his eyes. in no way did spencer think derek was stupid, he just thought that he could maybe get away with facing the confrontation of how he was acting. realistically, it was only a matter of time before derek called him out.

derek leaned his head down, trying to catch spencer’s eye line. when he was unsuccessful, he returned to his laid-back position on the barstool, and rolled his eyes.

given that it was a six pm on a random wednesday, the bar filled or crowded. there was another man sitting at the bar for down, but he seemed to be minding his own business. there were a few other people, but no one worthy of note.

spencer picked up his glass and swallowed his water around. seeing as he wasn’t going to elaborate on how he was acting or how he was feeling, derek moved on. he had some clue as to why spencer was behaving the way he was, so he attempted to test the waters. “i heard that someone had a date today,” he stated. he raised his eyebrows slightly, trying to gauge spencer’s reaction.

spencer slumped further over the countertop. one hand raised to his face and pinched the bridge of his nose, but he dropped his hand as quickly as it had risen. jackpot.

“yeah. what about it?” spencer’s tone was stiff and standoffish. he said he set his cup down on the counter more harshly than he would’ve liked to. it was just a date. why did he even care? “i hope it goes well.”

derek worked an eyebrow up and denial, but spencer could not see it. he was still avoiding eye contact as best he could. few people knew him as well as you did, and derek was one of these people. it was clear to anyone viewing the interaction that spencer was upset, but it was especially clear to derek that spencer was especially downtrodden.

following elle leaving the bau, spencer had opened up to derek about his feelings, and the things that had happened between the two of them. spencer had firmly planted himself in the position that he would never feel that way about another person again. derek confirmed that he would surely find another person, and spencer vehemently rejected the idea.

spencer hadn’t been, well spencer, derek would have patted his back or rubbed his shoulders in sympathy. but, all he could do was provide comfort in the only way spencer excepted it. and, this was through quiet emotional support. they sat in silence for a couple more moments before derek spoke up again.

“are you sure about that?” any teasing down that he might’ve held had completely dissipated. maybe spencer wasn’t willing to admit to himself how he felt, but derek could see through him clearly like a freshly cleaned window.

if spencer was alone he might have cried. but the admission of tears would in some part be an admission of guilt for how he felt. it wasn’t right the way he felt, you were his friend. and he intended to keep it that way. spencer pondered over what he might say next.

“they deserve it. after everything they’ve been through i think they deserve to at least go on one good date,” he muttered. “or two, or three-“ he trailed off. his voice lowered as he uttered the next phrase. “and if they end up with a long-term partner, that’s all the better.” there was a slight flavor of sarcasm derek felt between the lines of with spencer was actually saying. and he would be lying too, if he said that it didn’t catch him a little bit off guard.

derek didn’t respond for a moment after that. If he was being honest, he didn’t really know how to. usually spencer was pleasant, if not relatively soft spoken. well, soft spoken when he wasn’t dumping copious amounts of information on a random topic. over the past few years your habit of insisting on listening to exactly what spencer had to say rubbed off on the rest of the team. this had approved, extremely beneficial and high intensity situations. though, some team members refused to admit it.

silent glances amongst team members were exchanged when spencer had started making your coffee for you. or, when he brought in little trinkets and doodads when he went on paid leave to visit his mother. that wasn’t something anyone was really quite used to. there was a rhetorical acknowledgment of something that might be going on between the two of you.

spencer opened his mouth and closed it a few times. derek noticed this, and was shocked that spencer didn’t know what to say for once. “what if,” spencer mumbled. “there’s a part of me, a very small part of me,” he clarified, “that doesn’t…want their day to go exactly according to plan?”

he finally looked up at derek; and his expression was difficult to read. it was a mix of confusion, deep thought, and something hard to read. corner of derek’s mouth pulled up, but he wasn’t smiling nor adjusting. this was an expression that spencer was all too used to, but he deeply disliked. pity; something that seemed all too familiar to him.

“i think that’s all right.“ spencer took another step of his water, though it still remained quite untouched. “that’s how you feel. and I don’t think that there’s anything wrong with that.“

spencer looked up at him in puzzlement. this was not the answer that he had been expecting. he had been expecting to be chastised, for he should be happy for how his friend’s life was going. “they’re my best friend. i want them to be happy,” he finished, and he unmistakably meant it.

as soon as spencer had gotten home, he had knocked out like a light. the next morning at the office, he was later than he usually was. he didn’t like to be late, but the morning dragged on and on.

the train was a minute and thirty-seven seconds late, the people walking in front of him were way too slow, and most of all he just really did not want to come into work. coming into work meant he had to face you, and pretend like everything was fine.

he still made your coffee. just the way you liked it, like he did every morning. he set it on your desk next to your computer and got right to work. he had so much paperwork left over from the day previous that he had to get done. he saw you out of his periphery, and looked up and gave you as genuine a smile as he could.

“how are you doing this morning, spencer?” your inquiry was not similar to the ones you asked him every single morning. and just like every single morning, he responded with a similar answer.

he sat down his pen, took a sip of his coffee, and met your gaze. “i’m doing fine,” his voice easier to keep steady than it had been yesterday. he pulled a smile tautly across his lips. “i didn’t sleep very well last night, but that’s no big deal.”

you shot him a sympathetic gaze, before setting your things down and sitting down at your desk. “i’m sorry,” your replied.

the clear sheet in between you too provided relief; he could perhaps hide behind it and avoid looking at you.

the silence that was momentarily held was broken when you asked him a question. “how was that movie festival?” spencer instinctually fiddled with the wrist of his sweater. it was his favorite sweater, he hoped that it would help him relax more easily today.

he rested his hands atop one another on his desk, and looked at the space above your eyebrows. maybe you wouldn’t be able to tell that he wasn’t looking into your eyes, not exactly. “it was good!”he had waddled back and forth between the decision of telling you if he had gone or not. obviously, he settled on the latter.

it seemed like you were much too tired to catch on the small tells that he was lying, seeing as his voice had risen in tone and he was fiddling with his sweater sleeves. he knew when you knew that he was lying, your face held itself a certain way. in some ways, you were quite easy to read.

just the look of you made spencer’s stomach sink. he didn’t entirely know why, but he knew that it felt awful. “how was your date?” he said offhandedly as he could. he figured that that was something that he should ask.

your face lit up at the mention, and his stomach sunk even further. it was practically at his toes at this point. “it was good!” you chimed. He could tell that you were being honest, there was nothing in your face or your body that hinted that you were lying to say face. and anyway, you wouldn’t have done that. you wouldn’t lie to him.

be smiled a small smile. “that’s great! do you think you’ll go on another one?”

you thought briefly for a moment, before responding. “i think i will, we have a lot of common interest. he also has an affinity for science fiction. i think you might like him.” spencer was lost on how he should reply to this remark, surely he did not like science fiction as much as spencer did.

eventually, he settled on agreeing that science fiction was a great genre. he and your mystery man most definitely like the genre for separate reasons, but in this moment, he guessed that that didn’t matter. unfortunately, they had something in common.

the awkward nature of the conversation might’ve been lost to you, but it was not lost to spencer. he couldn’t help but feel sick at the small talk that he was being forced to endure in the moment.

finally, he felt what he had been wanting. relief. your date had gone well. you really, truly were deserving of good moments and good people. if, on the contrary, it had gone horribly awry he might’ve felt near violent.

spencer picked up his pen and continued to work on his files. he paused for a moment, and looked back up at you. he opened his mouth and closed it a couple times before deciding not to add anything else.

quickly he was drawn into his paperwork. the pencil scratched away against the paper at moore quick and paste than yesterday, and he was relieved that his mind had finally calmed.

before he could forget that this interaction ever happened, you handedly remarked some thing that he knew would stick with him, even though it was completely insignificant. “i might need help finding movies to watch with him. if we even get that far.”

if he agreed, he would have to learn more about this guy that he already had a distaste for. on the contrary, he would also spend more time with you. and there was no mistaking that he valued his time with you greatly.

“that’s what friends are for, right?”

next part

#lee’s writing <3 #spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #x reader #criminal minds #criminal minds x reader #angst #criminal minds x you #criminal minds fandom #criminal minds angst #spencer reid x you #spencer reid angst #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds fanfiction

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neptuneiris · 9 hours ago

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Cruel Summer (07/10)

Hidden Coast

pairing: modern!aemond x fem!reader

summary: feelings continue to flourish stronger than ever and now that you have already experienced life at Crowns, it is now the turn of a certain rich guy to experience life at Black Waves.

words: 9.5k

previous part • series masterlist

okay, let's see how things continue with this story after my long disappearance (sorry, I was very busy with work and my schedule changes) i hope to get support, not just hearts as you need to comment and reblog, please.

i have seen how the activity has dropped in the HOTD world and i don't want to not have more motivation for this story when there are people who want the ending. I have a lot planned and any constructive feedback is more than welcome. thank you guys, enjoy!

"Are you ready?"

You look excitedly at Aemond in front of you, with a small smile on your lips.

"More than ready."

The jet ski's engine purrs softly with Aemond already sitting on top of it, waiting for you, ready to take you for a ride.

It's your first time on one of these bikes and you're clearly excited. Obviously a ride on one of these is afforded by the rich, either because they can afford it or because they have jet skis of their own.

You didn't even see it when Aemond first showed you the yacht. It was off to the side at the yacht, also being maintained and cared for by the people in the harbor that his family pays for maintenance and protection.

And when he let you know that his family also has one of these and showed it to you, you quickly as a little girl and completely thrilled told him that you had always wanted to ride in one of these.

And that's why now you're both here.

You make sure your vest is on properly and take his hand, where he helps you keep your balance as you stand behind him, taking a seat, then wrap your arms around his torso tightly.

"Hold on tight," he tells you, placing his hands on top of yours and watching you over his shoulder, "I won't go very fast but still."

He gives you a few more instructions but the truth is you can't concentrate one hundred percent. Not when he looks like this.

His tousled silver hair, his bare arms, the sunglasses he's wearing and his hands gripping the throttle lever, marking his bones and veins. A truly breathtaking sight, especially when you're holding him so tightly.

Then he again looks at you expectantly over his shoulder and you nod.

"Okay."

He makes sure one last time that you're holding on to him tightly and finally accelerates, both of you gliding out into the open water with the salty ocean air filling your lungs.

You feel the sea breeze begin to hit your face, lifting your hair. There's a lot of motion from the bike cutting through the waves with ease and water splashing in all directions.

Then he accelerates a little faster and you cling to him completely.

You stare in wonder at the horizon, where the ocean is endless and where the sun makes the water sparkle with little silvery glints as you and Aemond get further and further away from the shore by the second.

You leave the hustle and bustle of the beach and the town behind, until only the sea and the immense sky in front of you both remain.

The wind hits hard against your face, as does the breeze every second and you feel the adrenaline take over your whole body, smiling and happy to finally be experiencing this.

"Faster!"

Aemond looks over his shoulder at you and doesn't hesitate to oblige your request. He speeds up even more, and the jet ski glides over the waves with even greater speed, drawing a free and carefree laugh from you.

The force of the wind means you can barely keep your eyes open, but you don't want to miss a second of this view.

You feel your heartbeat accelerate, and the excitement fills you with a seemingly endless energy. Each leap over the waves is like a small flight and you feel like you could fly.

You cling to Aemond's waist tighter, enjoying the moment, here, with him, it couldn't be more perfect.

After a while, Aemond slows down and you look out into the short distance at a place you have seen from many summers ago. Since you were a little girl coming here with your mom, specifically.

You still remember how you excitedly told her that one day you would want to come here. So does Alysanne.

You gaze raptly at the large lighthouse that towers in the middle of the sea, not far off the coast of Sunset's. Aemond circles around it at a slower speed, allowing you to admire it, watching as some eagles fly at the top where the lighthouse ends its height, being a truly beautiful sight.

"Do you want to come up!?"

He asks you over the sound of the engine and the waters crashing against each other with every displacement of the bike. And you watch him in surprise, also excited.

"Sure!"

Aemond speeds toward the pier, where the waves rock gently against the worn pillars and where the place seems anchored in time, as if no change of season or year could alter its stillness.

When the jet ski comes to a stop, Aemond jumps off first, making sure it is securely fastened, and then reaches out to help you. His grip is firm but gentle and comforting, helping to steady you.

Afterwards, you walk together toward the base of the lighthouse, where it stands imposingly in front of you, its white structure contrasting with the evening sky. The paint, though somewhat faded, still reflects the light of the sun's last rays.

“Can we come in?”

“We can,” he nods.

“But is anyone inside?”

“There should be. But it's still early,” he says nonchalantly, ”We'll be gone before they show up.”

The old but sturdy steel door opens with a loud creak as Aemond pushes it open. And you step cautiously in behind him, watching as the light illuminates the interior a little more and with the foot of the stairs just to one side of the large door.

“Watch the steps, they're kind of narrow,” he tells you as he holds the door open for you.

You frown slightly, placing yourself in front of him.

“You've come here before?”

He nods.

“With Daeron, last year.”

You both step further in, and Aemond closes the door behind him.

The interior is cool and quiet. Everything looks too old, too, but still captivating. The little light coming in through small round windows casts irregular patterns on the wall, creating an almost magical feeling.

The two begin to climb the spiraling staircase and Aemond is right, the steps are worn and creak under the weight. Ocean breezes occasionally filter through the windows, and you can smell the salt in the air mixed with the scent of old wood.

“When I was a kid, I used to imagine what it would be like to come up here,” you say as you walk forward, “I've always seen this lighthouse in the distance and…I don't know, I thought it was amazing to come. Dad always told me, in his crazy stories, that you could see the whole world at the top of the lighthouse,” you explain with a small nostalgic smile, ”Although Alysanne always told me it must be no big deal.”

“And why didn't you ever come?” he asks you in a soft voice.

“We didn't have enough money to rent a jet ski,” you admit, ”Mom always said this was for tourists or people with money, which she was right. But… money was needed for other things, not for this.”

He doesn't say anything to you right away, but when you reach the bottom of the stairs, he stops beside you and says in a soft voice, “I'm glad you're doing it now.”

You smile at him, and there's something warm in the way he looks at you, as if he understands what this moment means to you. Finally, you both reach the top.

He steps forward and carefully opens the rusty door leading outside. The metallic creak mingles with the roar of the wind rushing in, bringing with it the salty scent of the ocean.

Excited, you walk through the door and step outside, where the lighthouse culminates in a small circular platform surrounded by a metal railing. And from here, the view takes your breath away.

The horizon stretches as far as the eye can see, the sun slowly sinks into the sea, painting everything with a palette of oranges, pinks and purples. The waves reflect the colors as if they were a liquid canvas, and the sound of the sea below seems amplified, like a constant whisper that envelops everything.

And even though you can't see the whole world, as your dad used to tell you, it's still beautiful.

“It's more beautiful than I imagined,” you murmur, barely able to look away from the landscape.

You feel Aemond approach, his presence solid and comforting behind you. Wordlessly, he wraps his arms around your waist, gently resting his chin on your shoulder.

His embrace is firm but tender, and in that instant, you feel protected, as if this moment was designed just for the two of you. You close your eyes for a moment, letting the wind caress your face and thinking about your dad.

You wonder what it would have been like to be here with him, how he would have told another one of his fantastic stories as the sun illuminated his face.

A lump forms in your throat, and you hold back the urge to cry, because you know that, somehow, he would be happy that you are doing it now.

You turn to Aemond, placing your hands gently on his face. His eye, a deep blue and gray, looks at you with curiosity and something else you can't quite identify, but which fills your chest with warmth.

“Thank you for bringing me here,” you tell him with emotion and tenderness.

He smiles, a small but genuine smile, and rests his forehead against yours, letting the moment envelop you both.

You both return to the harbor and Aemond again secures the jet ski next to the yacht, while you wait for him, taking off your life vest.

"Hey, can I borrow your phone?" you ask him, unsure.

He looks at you slightly confused.

"My phone?"

"Yeah, it's just... mine doesn't turn on," you explain briefly and he watches you intently, "It died on the way over here and I want to let Alysanne know I'm staying with you tonight."

"Sure," he tells you with no problem.

He finally manages to secure the jet ski and walks over to you. He places a hand on your shoulder and you both start heading towards the yacht.

"But what's wrong with your phone?" he asks you curious and attentive.

"Well, it's old and the battery is failing," you say a little embarrassed, "It takes about three hours to charge to at least fifty percent."

You both go up to the second floor deck and he slides the doors for you, both of you stepping inside the yacht.

"You need a new one."

He tells you as he walks over to the small kitchen island, picking up his phone and you sigh.

"Yeah, I know. I'll buy one when I get a new job or have it fixed. That's what I always do when it starts to malfunction."

"No need. I'll buy it for you."

"What?"

"Yeah," he shrugs, holding out his phone to you, "I need you to have your phone with you at all times so I can contact you. And obviously I can't do that if it's no working."

"But... no," you look at him completely incredulous and surprised, "No. You can't just buy me a new phone and that's it. You can't do—

"Of course I can, Y/N," he interrupts you completely unconcerned.

"But n-no... it's... it's not..." you babble, "I mean, you can't."

He places a small grin as he rolls his eye and watches you with a condescending look, leaning against the kitchen island in a casual motion.

"And why not, according to you?"

"Because it costs a lot of money!"

"Yeah... and your point?"

"My point..." you remark, still incredulous, "Is that it's a lot of money to buy a new one."

He frowns slightly, still with that little grin on his lips.

"And that's why I can't?"

"Well, I-I... you... I mean—

"Stop doing that," he interrupts you in a soft voice as he sits up and walks over to you, "It's nothing. I can buy you a new one."

He stops in front of you and places a hand on the back of your head and then leaves a soft kiss on your forehead.

"I know it's a lot for you. But I can afford it."

"But... you don't understand," you look at him uncertainly, "I can't afford it. And suddenly having one of these," you point to his phone in your hand, "will draw attention. Besides, I don't want it to look like I'm taking advantage of you."

"Oh, believe me, you can take advantage of me all you want, darling. And I wouldn't mind."

He tells you still with that fucking grin on his lips then leans in and kisses you deeply.

His hands rest on your waist and you bring your free hand to the back of his head, moving your lips against his and gently stroking his hair. Then you both pull apart and he rests his forehead against yours.

"I'm serious," you murmur.

"And so do I," he tells you in a more serious tone of voice, "Don't worry about any of that. You're not taking advantage of me. I want to. Besides, you'd better get used to it."

You gently shake your head.

"You're joking."

"Hm. Are you sure about that?"

He again closes the distance between you and kisses you with more need, though with the same depth as before. You gasp into his mouth and reciprocate his kiss, clinging tighter to him.

His fingers firmly squeeze the skin of your waist and send electric waves throughout your body, as you let yourself be completely enveloped by him.

"I'm dead serious with you."

He says in a husky voice against your lips and you begin to feel the level between the two of you begin to rise, becoming more desperate and needy.

"No, you're not."

"You think so, baby?"

He cooed and before you can say anything else, he interrupts you by attacking your lips again and lifting you off your hips, causing you to wrap your legs around his torso.

You let out a surprised little laugh as he settles you better in his arms and heads for the stairs. Or towards the bedroom, specifically.

You watch Alysanne with a huge smile and a dreamy look on your face as you finish telling her all about your day yesterday and how much fun you had with Aemond.

“And how was your night?” she inquires you with that mischievous look.

Instantly your cheeks burn and you look at her with embarrassment mixed with reproach.

“I don't intend to tell you anything about it.”

But she can already get the idea just by looking at your reaction.

“Lucky bitch.”

You let out a small laugh, tucking a lock of your hair behind your ear.

“You could have these experiences too, you know?”

“Which ones, specifically?”

You look at her with an obvious look.

“You know, the yacht, the jet skis, and life at Crown's.”

She rolls her eyes, letting out a sigh.

“You mean because of Cregan?”

“Who else?” you inquire, ”Why hasn't anything happened between the two of you? It's weird.”

“Cause it would be weird.”

“Weird?” you look at her blankly.

“A guy from Crown's with a girl from Black Waves.”

“Oh, come on,” you look at her incredulously, ”Are you not seeing my situation? Besides…” you say, remembering, ”didn't you tell me that if you were in my place with Aemond, you'd agree to be with him?”

“Well, yes but… Cregan hasn't really acted or said anything to me,” she justifies herself, “Yes, I've seen his looks, his actions and his behaviors but,” she sighs, “I don't know. He hasn't really come on to me.”

“Come on, you and Cregan together is easier and less complicated than Aemond and I,” you say, ”Cregan has no girlfriend and no responsibilities. He doesn't have to please his father and he has a lot of freedom.”

She is silent for a few seconds, thoughtfully, staring at a spot in the room.

“Yeah, I know.“

She lets out a sigh again and neither of you say anything else for a few long seconds. Until she speaks again.

“By the way…” she, thoughtfully, “Since you talked about his dad and his girlfriend, how exactly are you and Aemond doing so you don't get caught?”

“Well…” you murmur, “ His dad he doesn't see much of him in the day. Only Aemond knows the days when he's going to need him and is there for him. With his siblings and mom it's easier. He only says he wants to be alone and leaves home to meet me on the pier or in the harbor.”

“And Floris?”

“He tells her that he's busy getting ready to take his management course before he goes off to college,” you explain, “And it's not totally untrue. When he's with me, I've seen him looking up program recommendations and reviews online.”

“Hm, very clever,” she says as she nods then lies back on the bed completely, “I don't know about you but I find your whole situation… exciting,” she says as she looks at you with a small smile.

“Exciting how?”

“I mean, like exciting and scary at the same time,” she explains, “And also like a movie-like, of forbidden love. The rich guy and the poor girl who can't be together because they'll be judged before society, you know?”

You raise your eyebrows slightly at the comment, amused.

“Well, it's not totally far from reality.”

“Like the prince and the commoner, the millionaire and the maid, Elizabeth and Mr. Darcy, Noah and Ally, Romeo and Juliet—

“Romeo and Juliet?” you interrupt her, amused and incredulous, ”I hope neither or both of us have to die so we can be together in heaven.”

“Well, you know, two completely opposite worlds doomed to be apart…though without the tragic ending, please,” she says as she laughs, sitting up a bit from the bed and propping herself up on her elbows, ”But, you know, it would also be like Jack and Rose. Although you'd be Jack and Aemond would be Rose.”

You frown, watching her.

“You, poor and free,” she points at you with her index finger, “Him, rich and trapped in world he hates with a dad who hates too.”

“I hope our story doesn't end up sinking like a giant ship in the middle of the ocean,” you mutter.

“Okay, so another example… like, um… Aladdin,” she snaps her fingers, “But it would also be the other way around, you, a thief of the streets, him, a prince with the full weight of his kingdom's expectations. Although…“ she pauses and looks at you mischievously, "Aemond doesn't have a magic carpet, does he?”

You laugh and shake your head.

“No, but he does have a jet ski.”

“And a late model car, a yacht, a mansion..” she lists, “Businesses, infinite credit cards—

“Yes, but that's not why I'm with him,” you interrupt her, indignant.

“I know but you get my point, right? The whole forbidden love thing, with restrictions, secret meetings, no freedom and where everything can end well… or bad,” she tells you with a look and a condescending tone, ”Obviously you both want to be together. But if you get caught, there will be a scandal all over town and who knows how his family will react. And Floris too.”

You look at her again confused.

“We had already had this conversation and you were the one who told me to take the risk?”

“Yes but that's not what I'm talking about.”

“Then?”

She sighs and looks at you with a more serious look.

“You and Aemond must have a plan if that happens.”

“A plan?” you repeat.

“Yeah. Have you two talked about what you'll do if you get caught?"

“Yeah… well, sort of, when he went looking for me with Cregan,” you explain, "The plan…” you start to say, trying to sound more confident than you feel, “is that he'll protect me.”

“Protect you?” she repeats, confused, ”How?”

“Well, we didn't exactly say those words but, basically, he won't let his or Floris' family near me. I just have to stay on my side of town and… I'll be fine.”

She folds her arms, expectantly.

“And then?”

You sigh.

“We won't be able to talk or… see each other, obviously.”

“But he's going to fight his family and his dad, right? To do what he wants and to be with you… right?”

“That's the plan,” you nod, '“If all goes well, that would be a miracle but if it doesn't…” you watch her fearfully, “We'll have to say goodbye.”

Alysanne gestures as she lets out a sigh again.

“Maybe this will be harder and riskier than I thought.”

“Yeah, I knew you'd say that after convincing me to be with him clandestinely,” you tell her with a scowl.

“Y/N, look—

“But you're right,” you interrupt her again, ”I mean, I knew all along. I know the risks we're taking and yet… I'm willing to do it and so is he. We both talked about it and we know this won't be easy, but it's what we want.”

She looks at you quietly, her expression in slight concern.

“Aemond has to deal with and please his family's expectations and control, without being able to do what he really wants. And I… I want to help him, to make him live, enjoy and have some freedom, if only for a moment.”

“Even if that freedom is temporary and you both end up very hurt?”

You shrug, shaking your head.

“It will have been worth it. Because, at least, we'll have tried. Or that's what you told me, if I remember correctly.”

She lets out a laugh and you follow her instantly, where after you both fall silent, as she watches you with a soft smile.

“I guess you're brave after all… or stubborn, depending on how you look at it.”

You smile, feeling a little lighter.

“Runs in the family. I learned that from you.”

At that moment, her phone rings and she picks it up, while you stand for a few seconds, thoughtfully, staring at a spot in the room.

“We should go now,” she lets you know, looking at her phone screen, “Chase says he's already with the guys at the beach. Cregan's going too.”

“Oh yeah,” you agree, instantly grabbing your phone, “I'll text Aemond to meet us there too.”

You send him the message without a problem, as Alysanne watches you in amusement.

“Doesn't it make you anxious to have to tell the guys about you and Aemond?”

“Why? They already saw us on the beach the other day.”

“Yeah, but… you know, you'll have a lot of explaining to do. A lot.”

“I guess I'll just have to put up with it.”

Pretty soon the two of you head down to the beach, especially the place where you always have the bonfire gatherings. And sure enough, the boys are already there, taking a break before surfing.

But as soon as Sam sets his eyes on you, questions begin to form in his mind, like bubbles, questions that he immediately asks you and that raise more questions in Daniel and Chase.

“How did it come up?”

“What happened?”

“Are you two dating?”

“Is it true that his family has three yachts?”

“Does his family know about the two of you?”

“I'm very confused.”

“He's with Floris, isn't he?”

“He's cheating on Floris with you?”

“So you're the other woman?”

“Will you guys stop?”

Alysanne tells them instantly serious, managing to get all three of them to shut up.

“You guys aren't going to bring that back when he gets here. It's reckless and rude. Do you guys want to embarrass Y/N or have him think us stupid and disrespectful?”

Daniel snorts.

“Please, he's a fucking Targaryen.”

“He already considers us stupid, shitty poor things,” Sam says with a scowl.

“He doesn't consider Y/N like that,” Alysanne reminds them.

“But what happened?” Chase insists, looking at you confused and interested, 'I always thought it would be Cregan and her,” he points to your cousin, “But Aemond Targaryen and you?” he says incredulously, “I mean, really, when and what happened?”

You step forward towards them, letting out a sigh.

“I'll tell you everything but first promise not to act weird around him and try to include him to the group,” you tell them seriously.

“Include him in the group?” Sam repeats incredulously.

“I don't understand anything,” Daniel also says.

So, you explain. You tell them about everything, from the beginning at the pier until now, answering their questions, taking advantage of the fact that he hasn't arrived yet.

You explain to them about his relationship with Floris, a brief explanation of his relationship with his father and what he has to do obligatorily for his family's business, or rather empire.

And also what the two are doing together, all in secret. At least it makes them less confused and they have a clearer idea of what is going on between the two of you.

And although the three of them promised not to be weird around him and to include him in the group, as soon as Aemond arrives and you introduce him, in fact they include him instantly, but not being weird, they don't do it well.

And everything you explained to them, they corroborate with him, talking to him about it and asking him questions, while you all wait for Cregan sitting in the sand.

“Your old man not letting you live, even make your own decisions, must be awful, dude.”

Sam says to Aemond with a look of pity on his side, at the same time Chase and Daniel corroborate in conversation.

“I mean, you're of age now, aren't you?”

“Yeah but having a dad like his… you don't really have much of a choice.”

“What do you mean? Like a powerful, rich, influential dad?”

“Guys,” you mumble, looking apologetically at Aemond beside you.

But he only remains silent, with a small soft smile on his lips, simply listening to them.

“No, no, we're just saying it must be awful.”

“Yeah but it's not that awful either… is it?” Daniel says doubtfully, “I mean, you still have it all, like a very expensive car…” he points to his car parked in the distance, “yachts, lots of money and pretty much life settled, bro.”

Alysanne rolls her eyes and turns to Aemond.

“Excuse him. You're with a bunch of poor people, it's obvious we're not going to understand.”

“No, it's okay,” Aemond says still with his little smile, ”I understand you have a different point of view.”

“It's not all about money and everything you can buy with it,” Sam agrees.

“But it is,” Chase shrugs, “In a way.”

“We don't have those things, dude,” Daniel says, “We have to work, make a living, somehow survive, while you don't have to do anything because you already have everything,” he points to Aemond, “And don't get me wrong, I'm not reproaching you, it's just that…” he sighs, “The rich people I know here have a fucking habit of complicating things in their families and they're not able to fix it and be happy.”

The circle goes completely silent for a moment. That's because Daniel has said what all the people in Black Waves and you as a group of friends, is exactly what you think.

It's something you've always talked about, about the rich people in Sunsets who have everything except love and understanding in their families. And that's exactly why they're not happy.

And on the other side, the poor, they have the love, the family unity, except the money and the proper living conditions that they want to have all the material things that the rich have that the rich don't enjoy because of these voids and problems in their families.

Obviously there are different opinions on this which are totally respectable, but this is something that your friends and you have seen since you were little in Sunsets. Even Cregan has corroborated the idea about what he has seen in his world.

When in the middle of the silence, suddenly Aemond speaks up.

“I understand what you're saying and you're right, very right actually,” he nods, looking at Daniel, “That's exactly what's going on in my family. There is… no love, no empathy, no communication and everything is…” he sighs, "fucked up."

Everyone around him watches him, listens to him, as do you, instantly feeling sorry for him, even though you tried to avoid it.

“It's all about what you can bring to the table, how you fit into the family 'plan.' But no one stops to ask you what you want or how you feel,” he confesses, ”The only times I've felt loved were with my mother when I was a kid and recently with my sister Hel, nothing else.”

“Are you serious?” Alysanne inquires.

“That sounds… lonely and shitty,” Sam says with a grimace.

“It is,” Aemond nods, ”And when you try to get out of it, even for a moment, the consequences are bad. And not just for you, but for everyone in the family.”

Daniel frowns, crossing his arms.

“That's what I don't understand. If you have everything, so much money… why aren't you able to be happy instead of ruining each other?”

Aemond lets out a dry little laugh, his smile now more bitter.

“Because in my world, happiness is not a priority. It's more about appearance, control and getting more, more money, more power, recognition, respect,” he lists, "And if you deviate from that, you're a problem."

“Dude, all rich people are crazy, I knew it. And your family more so,” Sam says.

“Hey,” you instantly reproach him, with a warning look.

“It's okay, it's not totally a lie,” Aemond tells you, in a soft, calm voice, “And don't get me wrong, I'm grateful for what I have. But I also want more. I want a loving, caring, understanding family. I want freedom, to be able to make my own decisions, to do what I really want to do and not what's expected of me.”

“And why don't you try to, you know… just… drop everything?” Chase asks her, intrigued, ”Rebel, be happy and live your life the way you want to.”

“It's not that simple,” Aemond shakes his head, “I'm my dad's only heir, and someone has to take his place. It doesn't matter if I want to or not. It's my responsibility, and everyone is counting on me for that.”

“But why would you have to do it?” Daniel asks, “I mean, from what you've told, your dad hasn't really done anything for you other than control you. And your family…they just watch and allow it.”

“Because that way I keep my family from exploding and we don't lose everything we have. If it's not me, there's no one else,” Aemond answers him simply and with that bitter tone of resignation.

Silence falls again on the group, where only the waves can be heard breaking softly on the shore and against the big rocks. Also the seagulls, creating a relaxing and less tense atmosphere.

Although even so, everyone watches Aemond from time to time, serious and with slight looks of pity. So do you.

You watch him silently, though not too much for him to notice. And his face, soft and hard to read… is covering all the frustration, sadness and vulnerability he is surely feeling.

Frustration and vulnerability that you feel too, because it's not fair to him. So without saying a word, you reach out and take his hand, squeezing it gently.

Aemond looks down at the joined hands, saying nothing. But what you do see, though, is that little curve at the corner of his lips, smiling softly and returning the gesture with his fingers, wanting to feel you and hold you close to him.

You know it's not much. You know it's not an exit nor can it compare to all the material things he possesses. But it is a support, something meaningful and pure of heart.

“Look, dude…” speaks Chase, finally breaking the silence, scratching the back of his neck, "We're not your family, that's for sure," he lets out a low, awkward little laugh, ”But here between us… we're like one.”

Daniel next to him nods, putting on a small smile.

“It's strange to say this to a person like you, especially being a Targaryen but… if you need support, someone to listen or just a place where you can breathe… you can count on us.”

“We don't have all the money in the world…” Sam says, “neither mansions, nor yachts or cars of the year but…” he looks at everyone with a soft smile to again look at Aemond, “we're here, okay? You won't be alone anymore.”

You look at your three best friends with a small, tender smile contained with emotion and gratitude. His words, though simple, resonate deeply and make a warmth begin to spread from your chest.

And you know Aemond must be feeling exactly the same.

“I know it's hard, Aemond, but you don't have to carry everything by yourself,” Alysanne tells him, ”Seriously, if you need to get away from all that shit for a while, we're here.”

Slowly, you watch Aemond beside you, who doesn't respond right away. You notice how he suddenly becomes a little uncomfortable, stirring slightly where he is sitting, having no idea what to say or how to act.

It's clear he's never been on the receiving end of these kinds of words and gestures before. Knowing that, it breaks your heart a little. But then, there's the small smile on his lips, barely noticeable but so sincere as he watches your friends with a look full of sincerity and gratitude.

“Thank you,” he finally says, his voice softer. “I-I…you don't know how much this means to me. Truly.”

For a moment, no one speaks, but they don't need to. The connection is palpable, an understanding between everyone. So, you rest your cheek on his shoulder, it being a small gesture, but strong enough to convey to him that he is not alone, that you are there, that everyone is there for him.

And the atmosphere, which had previously been charged with tensions and mixed emotions, began to lighten. Chase is the first to speak, animated and looking at Aemond with a huge smile.

“Now, if you're going to officially join the poor people's group, we're going to have to put you through a rite of initiation.”

“Rite of initiation?“ Aemond repeats, amused.

“We don't have any of that,” Alysanne reproaches amused.

“True, we don't, but I wanted to start trying with you.”

Everyone laughed, even Aemond, who for the first time in a long time felt like he could breathe easy. As the group continued to joke around, throwing challenges at him like trying to surf or learning to juggle coconuts, the two of you exchange a glance.

You lean towards him and leave a soft kiss on his cheek before resting your head on his shoulder. The gesture so natural and so warm makes Aemond close his eye for a moment, enjoying the moment and the simple pleasure of being there, with you, just like you.

It feels good to be surrounded by laughter and non-judgmental looks, with people who accept him as he is. And in that moment, Aemond felt something he hadn't experienced in a long time: belonging.

“Okay, well…” Sam starts to say with a mischievous grin, "I don't want to ruin the moment but… did anyone else notice that?" he points his head towards the two of you.

Chase lets out a laugh, raising his eyebrows.

“Oh, of course we noticed.”

Alysanne rolls her eyes again.

“And here they come.”

“Since when is this a thing?” asks Sam.

“Since when do Targaryens accept kisses from commoners?” Daniel feigns surprise as well, holding a hand to his chest.

“Shut up,” you reply with a nervous smile, your cheeks burning.

You try to look away, but Aemond, instead of feeling uncomfortable, smiles knowingly, amused.

“So, what's going on here?” insists Daniel.

“Aren't you going to tell us your clandestine love story?” Sam also says.

“I already told you,” you reproach them, “And you promised not to do this,” you remind them.

“Yeah, but we want both versions,” they justify themselves.

Nothing stops them and they get Aemond to tell them a couple of things, exactly everything you told them.

“But what about Floris? Because if that girl finds out, it's going to be a disaster,” Chase says.

Aemond nods slowly.

“Yeah, Floris… she's part of the problem, but not the only one. My dad is the real obstacle. If he finds out and my whole family—

“It's not going to be pretty,” you complete, looking at your friends with a mixture of concern and determination, ”Then the whole town is going to find out and everything will be in chaos.”

A small silence ensues, where Sam nods thoughtfully, then looking at Chase, Daniel and finally you and Aemond.

“Okay, so all we have to do is help them protect themselves from your crazy family and your bratty girlfriend.”

“Sounds like mission impossible to me,” Daniel says.

Aemond lets out a small chuckle under his breath.

“Thanks, guys,” he says softly, ”For understanding and for not judging.”

“Judging?” repeats Chase with a smile. “Please, we're the last ones to judge. We just want to make sure you don't end up in trouble…or worse.”

The conversation and atmosphere relaxes again with their amused comments and teasing. When a voice exclaims in the distance, approaching.

”Have you already started the party without me!?“

Everyone turns their heads and sees Cregan, in his typical beach clothes and completely relaxed.

“Dude, you took a thousand years!” Chase yells at him.

“Sorry, I had to do a couple of things!” he says then trots over to all of you, closing the distance, ”My dad wanted me to help him out at the company with some doc—

He finishes the sentence abruptly as he sees that recognizable silver hair sitting among your entire group of friends and opens his eyes wide.

“Targaryen!” he exclaims with a huge grin, ”Finally!”

They do that typical male greeting and then he takes a seat next to Alysanne, visibly excited.

“Well, update me. What did you talk about?”

“A crazy family with no love, a son with responsibilities he doesn't want, a forbidden love, and a girlfriend who is actually for convenience,” Sam lists.

After that, the next hour is really about getting to know Aemond better. His favorite movie, favorite color, places he's been, things he likes to do, what things he doesn't, aspects of his life, etc.

Although the boys, especially Sam, kept saying they couldn't believe they now had another rich boy in the select group of the poor. And a Targaryen on top of it.

Cregan was a little offended at first, saying he liked it better when he was the rich guy who got the attention among all of us. Then they started making jokes, chatting, laughing more and it's like they've all known Aemond all their lives.

He had a very good inclusion to the group and he also spent as much time as he could to get to know the guys and Alysanne better.

Afterwards he and you decide to go for a short walk along the shore. You don't really talk about anything important. You just enjoy the moment, laugh, talk about everything and at the same time about nothing, hugging, hand in hand and letting the salty water wet your feet with every step.

And after a while, you return to the group, where Alysanne tells you the plan and you tell Aemond.

“The guys want to go on a ride to the sea.”

“Oh, okay.”

He nods and looks out at the small, worn pier, frowning after a brief inspection.

“And where's the yacht or the launch?”

You're about to answer but someone else does, reaching towards both of you.

“Yacht?” Sam repeats incredulously, stepping up beside you, "Dude…" he lets out a small laugh, ”we don't have any of that. This is Black Waves. But we do have the launch.”

He winks at you both and then trots over to your launch that is anchored to the pier, which was too unnoticed by Aemond, as he thought it must be an old abandoned launch and not really your launch.

“Oh,” he mutters, embarrassed.

You let out a small laugh, intertwining your arm with his.

“Come.”

The two of you follow Sam, who shows Aemond how the old launch actually has a powerful engine and that's more than enough to go sailing for a bit. The seven of you climb in without a problem and soon enough the launch is gliding through the waters.

You notice how he, at first, seems skeptical about the launch's stability, but soon settles in beside you, though somewhat cautiously.

“Just remember not to go near the piers,” you tell Sam as he starts the engine.

“Oh, sure, sure,” he nods, “We wouldn't want them to recognize Prince Charming here.”

Aemond gives him a slight nod of thanks, as you walk over to him and intertwine your arm with his, smiling softly at him.

He returns your small smile and places one of his hands on your thigh, gently caressing your skin, sending small shivers throughout your body as the whole group moves a little further out into the ocean.

After a while of sailing and no one around, Sam stops the launch and soon enough he along with Chase pull out an old fishing box with some hooks and worms.

“Well, crown prince,” Sam says, jumping to his feet, ”Have you ever been taught to fish?”

Aemond frowns slightly.

“Fishing?” he repeats, ”No. We just bought it.”

“That's what we thought,” Chase replies, with a mischievous grin, "Here too the other heir lord knew nothing," he points to Cregan.

He posts a lazy half smile as he relaxes in the sun's rays along with Alysanne, both wearing sunglasses and simply enjoying the moment.

“Yeah, it's true,” he corroborates.

“So you'll learn today,” Daniel concludes, handing him a cane.

“Is this for real?” asks Aemond, as you laugh.

“As serious as the sea is salty,” Sam replies, ”Come on, it's not that complicated.”

With some skepticism but no complaints, Aemond also gets up and follows the three guys to the bow, while you're left relaxing with Alysanne and Cregan, though you don't miss any of the show.

“Just do this,” Chase tells him, showing him how to adjust the hook line and cast the line into the water.

Aemond watches him closely and, after a few clumsy attempts, manages to cast his.

“Not bad!” you exclaim, encouraging him with a smile.

“That was a disaster,” he tells you, looking a little frustrated by his lack of skill, but also amused.

“You're doing well, you just need a little practice,” Daniel encourages him, who explains the tricks of the trade, but without missing the opportunity to joke.

Although the rods are old and clumsy, they manage to catch a couple of small fish, enough to feel a sense of accomplishment.

It takes Aemond a few minutes to settle in, as the breeze caresses his face and the sight of the calm sea seems to begin to influence his mood and comfort.

And after a couple of practice runs, he throws the line back into the water and after a few minutes, manages to catch something, which sparks cheers and exaggerated applause from the others as he quickly pulls the line as Sam has taught him.

“Look at that!” exclaims Chase, laughing, ”The fishing prince!”

The boys encourage each other, sharing a relaxed, friendly, laughter-filled atmosphere, while you watch everything proudly and happily.

You notice how something has changed in him, like he no longer wears that rigidity that characterizes him. His shoulders are slightly slumped, his posture less tense and he is smiling, really smiling and laughing.

You know this is all he needed to disconnect from everything that haunts him and you feel so happy for him to see him looking this good.

After a while, between them they put everything back together and decide to head back to the beach, but not before stopping by a convenience store to buy some chips and a few beers.

Sam and you volunteer, while Aemond stays in the launch with the others, putting on Alysanne's sunglasses and covering his silver hair with Daniel's cap.

Finally, you return to your usual spot, Black Waves beach, where you sit on the logs around a bonfire and the sunset begins to make its show in the sky.

As you settle in with Aemond, you watch as he looks at the screen of his phone and lets out a long breath as he puts it back in his front pocket. This catches your attention as you see the small but visible frown and you look at him with a soft smile.

“Are you okay?”

He instantly looks at you and nods, trying to smile a little.

“Yeah, yeah, I'm fine.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah,” he says trying to brush it off.

Just then, you hear the faint sound of when the phone vibrates continuously, indicating an incoming call. Aemond sighs and takes his phone out of his pocket again, where you both see Floris' name on the screen.

Aemond shoots you a glance at your side and sends it straight to voicemail, then places his phone on complete silence and puts it away again.

“She's been calling for hours now. My mom too,” he lets you know.

“And it's not important?” you ask softly.

“No,” he says shaking his head, ”They just want to know where I am.”

“Well, you can tell them so they'll stop calling,” you suggest.

“No, I haven't been home most of the day,” he explains, “They'll try to get me to come back. And I don't want that. I want to…“ he sighs, "I want to stay here a little longer.”

“Okay,” you nod, without a problem.

You take his hand and intertwine it with your own, as the animated guys start talking.

“Alright, Aemond,” Chase says, "Have you ever juggled coconuts?" he asks him as he bends down and picks up three coconuts from the sand.

“Where did you get them?” you ask him instantly amused.

“It's a secret,” he winks at you.

“Is that something people really do?” asks Aemond, amused.

“It is if you're with us,” says Cregan, who appears with three other coconuts in his hands, ”I didn't know either, but they made me learn.”

“Yeah, show him,” Sam tells him, smiling.

“Me first,” Chase interjects, placing himself in the circle first.

He starts juggling them, while Aemond watches him intently,though after a few seconds he drops one, causing a ripple of laughter.

“Dude, shame on you.”

“Weren't you supposed to know?” inquires Alysanne.

“You do it, then,” he challenges her.

Alysanne steps in, taking the coconuts and giving a brief, effortless demonstration. Her moves are fluid and she manages to keep them in the air longer than Chase. And when she finishes, everyone applauds.

“It's a matter of practice,” she says, shrugging, extending the coconuts to Aemond.

“I highly doubt it,” Aemond tells her, but takes the coconuts, willing to give it a try.

After several failed attempts where Alysanne explains along with Sam, he still fails to do it and drops the coconuts to the ground unsuccessfully, though he ends up laughing along with everyone else.

Then Sam stands in the center, juggling and trying the occasional trick, making a spectacle of himself and provoking more laughter at his moves.

“And where did they learn to do that?” asks Aemond with a small smile and interested.

“With the boys in the neighborhood, since we were kids,” says Sam.

Everyone nods, as the atmosphere fills with warmth and the flames of the bonfire dance in the light wind, illuminating everyone's faces as the sunset says its last farewell of the day to bring in the night.

All the guys continue to talk, making the whole group laugh, sharing anecdotes and enjoying the fries and beers while the starry sky and the moon accompany you in the night, as well as the sound of the waves crashing on the shore.

Aemond at your side watches you with a small soft smile and you return it, as the voices of the boys continue to fill the space you are in.

“I understand Cregan now,” he tells you and you look at him intently, ”They're great guys. It's been a long time since I've felt this comfortable in a group.”

“This won't be the last hangout we have,” you remind him, “Almost every day we meet here. Daniel said next time we should go surfing.”

“I'd love to,” he tells you softly, "Although…" he moves closer towards you, speaking low, ”I'm thinking of inviting them to the yacht.”

You raise your eyebrows, smiling.

“Really?”

“This coming weekend my dad will be going away with my mom on a work trip,” he tells you, “Aegon will probably go partying and stay at some girl's house. Hel and Daeron will have the house to themselves and maybe stay in and watch some movies or something.”

“That's perfect,” you say smiling, ”But, what about Floris?”

“I'll tell her that I'll start my lessons. That way she won't come looking for me. Or my siblings can cover for me in case of anything.”

“Are you sure?” you look at him intently.

“Yeah,” he tells you unconcerned, “But don't tell them anything yet. I want it to be a surprise.”

You let out a small laugh, nodding.

“Okay.”

“Dude, your phone,” Cregan says to Aemond suddenly, pointing to his front pocket with his gaze.

You both look in the same direction and see the light from the screen filter through the fabric, so he pulls it out of his pocket and you both see another missed call from Floris.

His jaw line tenses visibly, and then he slides his finger to check the notifications. Among them, a message from Helaena stands out telling him that his mom is worried.

Aemond sighs, letting out a long exhale that seems to take with it some of the calm he had achieved in the last few hours.

“Shit,” he mutters.

“What's wrong?” you ask him intently.

“I have to go,” he says, putting the phone back in his pocket.

The resignation in his voice is palpable, but there's also a hint of annoyance, as if he doesn't want this night to end. And you watch him silently for a moment, not knowing what to say or what to do to comfort him a little.

“I don't want to leave,” he says, his voice low and frustrated.

You grimace slightly and move closer towards him, lifting one of your hands to begin gently running your fingers through his hair, trying to relax him. He instantly closes his eye and takes a big breath, instantly enjoying your touch.

“It's okay,” you murmur, ”We'll go back out with them, don't worry.”

“Yeah, I know, it's just…” he pauses, ”I don't want to go home.”

You are silent for a moment, letting his words settle in the air between you.

“Aemond…” you murmur, wanting to say something to ease that burden he seems to carry.

But before you can continue, he opens his eyes and looks at you with an intensity that leaves you speechless.

“Come with me,” he says suddenly, with a gentleness and a firmness that surprises you.

“What?”

“Yeah," he insists, "Stay with me tonight."

You look at him in surprise, your mind racing a mile a minute.

“You mean… at your place?”

“Yeah,” he tells you a little more animated, excited by the idea.

And you don't know what to say again for a few seconds.

“That's… probably a bad idea,” you tell him softly, ”It's too risky, Aemond.”

He smiles thinly, leaning a little towards you.

“It won't be a bad idea if we're careful. It'll be all right.”

“And how will you be able to get me in?”

“No one will see you. The house is huge,” he tells you nonchalantly, ”We just have to be careful. And tomorrow morning, I'll drive you home.”

Gradually, the idea of going to sleep with him excites you, too, despite the risks. Honestly, you don't want him to leave either, at least not yet. But going with him… it starts to stoke that flame of danger and daring in you.

So with the condition that this can't be a regular thing, your mind finally makes the decision.

Soon after, the two of you say goodbye to the guys. You beg Alysanne to cover for you with her parents one more time, and so you get into Aemond's car. The ride to his house is short, but filled with anticipation.

When you arrive, the sight of his mansion takes your breath away. Lights bathe the imposing facade in a golden glow, and the expansive front garden looks like something out of a postcard.

It's a completely different world from your own, something you always knew, but seeing it up close makes it that much more real.

“I'll go in and talk to my mom first, she must be in the living room,” Aemond tells you as he turns off his car and the two of you are in the huge garage of his house, “I'll see who else is inside and come back for you, okay?”

You nod, feeling a little nervous but excited.

“Okay, but what if someone comes?”

“No one will come. There are all the cars,” he points around, "But if that happens, just hide in here," he points to the inside of his car, "No one will see you."

“Okay,” you nod, ”Just don't take too long, please.”

“I won't, don't worry.”

You stay alone in the car, feeling the seconds seem to lengthen in the gloom of the huge garage.

Your eyes dart around the contours of the space, admiring unwittingly the luxury that surrounds you, the perfectly lined up expensive cars, motorcycles and razers. A world completely unrelated to your own.

Minutes later, the sound of approaching footsteps brings you out of your thoughts. Aemond appears by the car door, his face relaxed.

“We're fine,” he says to you in a soft voice, opening your door and extending a hand towards you.

You take his hand and step carefully out of the car, feeling as if you are crossing an invisible line into forbidden territory. He entwines his fingers with yours, leading you toward a side entrance that leads to the house.

The door opens with a soft click and you step into the lobby of the house. Immediately, the fresh air and the faint scent of flowers and waxed wood envelop you.

Everything around you seems to glow, from the marble floors to the crystal chandelier hanging majestically from the high ceiling.

“Wow,” you murmur, almost breathless as your eyes roam the space.

Aemond lets out a small laugh, holding your hand more firmly. He leads you down wide hallways that are everything you'd expect; disgustingly rich.

There are decorations that look like something out of a museum and furniture that probably cost more than anything you've ever owned in your life. The crystal chandeliers never seem to end and you pass through a bunch of different rooms like an office, a library, the dining room, a small living room, a game room and so on.

Then Aemond guides you to a grand and majestic staircase with a forged iron railing.

As you go up, you see on the wall pictures in perfectly placed frames of the entire Targaryen family from different years, but you can't linger to inspect too much as you both move on in a hurry.

Finally, you both reach the second floor and he takes you to his room, which is almost at the end of the hallway. He opens the door for you and upon entering, it is also as you expected, simply stunning and expensive.

The room is huge, much bigger than you could have imagined. The walls are painted in dark tones that contrast with the light wood furniture.

A king-size bed occupies the center, with luxurious-looking sheets that seem as soft as a cloud. In front, a large television hangs on the wall and to one side are sliding glass doors leading to a balcony with a breathtaking ocean view.

“So this is the rich life,” you say with a mixture of awe and humor, turning to him, “A gigantic bed, a TV bigger than anything I've ever seen and a balcony with a view of the ocean? Sure, it's completely normal.”

Aemond laughs softly, closing the door behind him.

“It's just a room,” he says as he walks over to his closet which is actually another big room, just like his bathroom.

“It's like an apartment inside a mansion,” you reply, letting out a laugh as you walk over to the bed and run your hand across the expensive looking bedspread.

He takes one of his T-shirts from one of his drawers and returns to his room, handing it to you.

“Here, so you'll be comfortable.”

You take the T-shirt and hold it in front of you. It's soft, cotton and smells faintly of him.

“Thank you.”

As you change in the attached bathroom, you can't help but think about how surreal this all is. You never thought you'd experience living this, even for one night. You feel like a celebrity, in some strange way.

When you return, Aemond is sitting on the edge of the bed, taking off his shoes.

“What do you think?” he asks, looking up at you.

“That your bed is delicious,” you reply with a smile as you walk over and sink into the mattress.

Instantly the softness is indescribable and you let out a sigh of pleasure as you settle in.

“Honestly, I don't know how you're going to get me out of here tomorrow.”

He laughs again, dropping his t-shirt to the floor as well as his shorts before joining you on the bed. His skin is exposed, and though you're used to seeing him shirtless by now, something about this situation feels more intimate, more vulnerable.

Aemond settles in next to you, draping an arm around your waist and pulling you closer to him. His warmth is comforting and you let yourself be enveloped by the sense of security he gives you.

And it feels simply wonderful to be here with him.

“Thank you for staying,” he murmurs against your hair.

You smile softly with tenderness, leaning into him and leaving a gentle kiss on his forehead, then bury your face between his neck and chest, closing your eyes and feeling the exhaustion take hold of you.

You both fall silent, enveloped in the tranquility of the night and the distant sound of the sea breaking against the shore. And the only thing you think before you drift off to sleep is that you don't want tomorrow to come.

All you want is to stay this way with him.

series taglist:

@zenka69 @strangersunghoon @deliaseastar @thefireblaze @kythefangirl25 @p45510n4f4shi0n @saturnssrings @bellaisasleep @primroseluna @tinykryptonitewerewolf @barnes70stark @tssf-imagines @valyrianflower

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

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ghost-askblog · 3 days ago

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soap mentioned something about this tumblr ask blog thing... not sure if he was just taking a piss but i decided to try it out. apparently a lot of people like me for whatever reason.

please just... keep it normal. i know how you thirsty fucks act.

i try and reply quickly to get you guys out of my hair, but unlike some of you i have a life outside of the internet.

Hey, this is the person behind the blog, Fran!

I made this blog simply for the fun of it since i recently got back into roleplaying and thought it would be fun to play the role of our dear Ghost!

Remember to keep the asks SFW since the inappropriate asks make me kinda uncomfortable (and i know how you guys act)

This blog may be cringe, but as long as i'm having fun thats all that matters. Feel free to drop by!

If i don't get to your ask please don't take it to heart! i get a lot of these at a time and i'm doing my best to get to everyone i can to keep the flow moving. the flow of replies may vary based on how motivated im feeling that day, so i promise i'm not dead if i go a few days or weeks without updates.

(also its completely okay if you make blogs inspired by mine! we don't gatekeep here but all i ask is that you credit me if you can. happy rping!)

#simon ghost riley #ghost #simon riley #rp ask blog #rp blog #cod mw2 #call of duty #ghost cod #cod modern warfare #ghost riley

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vengefultakeover · 3 days ago

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Daemon: Surprise Guest (3)

NOTE: This is the newest edited version of this story

I let my eyes drift open after having spent the entire night with Max. The now open windows let in a much light as possible now that Max was inside a body. Safe to bask in the beams. I found him standing out in the living room, looking out at Crystal Cove and wearing nothing but a tight pair of underwear. I sit down on the sofa and admire him while he enjoys the warmth.

Eventually, he joins me, slipping his hand over my thigh while getting comfortable on the coffee table, "I'm really starting to enjoy being human." He leans his head on a hand, eyes glowing a beautiful green.

"Starting to?" I chuckled.

"You know what I mean." He leans into me, pushing be back onto the cushion in the same positions we were in the night before. We kiss as my hands slide along his abs and then around his waist, pulling him closer to eliminate the space between us.

"What?" I ask as he pulls away.

"I think I should find a permanent body." He pushed his bulge against mine, looking at me as his eyes return to the normal color.

"Permanent?" I scrunch my face slightly, we were having so much fun hopping from body to body.

"I think I want to create an identity now that I'm free from the island. You know? Not just Max, but like Max the human. Someone you want me to be if you wanted - I owe you so much for helping me survive. You have no idea what you've done for me." He pushed his head onto my shoulder and I felt him breathing, his heart pounding in his chest. Was he nervous?

"Really?" I was blushing. "Well, if it's going to be someone new, I think we should really consider who it should be. But I shouldn't be the one who picks. You should decide what your future is." I push my hand through his hair and we cuddled there, staring at each other.

"When I was back on the island, there were a lot of snobby college kids who thought they were better than the rest because they came from money. The one's who were specially invited were just part of Mondavarious' plan to accumulate power and wealth. I guess technically it was Scrappy, but that's the past. I'm here with you, now, and I'm loving every second of it. I feel more free than I ever have."

"What did I do?" I shrugged.

"You were kind to me." He responded.

We were listening to each other's heartbeat when there was a knock at the door, one that sounded pretty aggressive. I slid out from underneath Max and ran to look through the keyhole. The man on the other side was handsome in a blue varsity jacket. I could have sword I had seen him before, but I couldn't put my finger on it. He looked gruff, and something about him made my cock stir.

Max came up behind me, grabbing my waist and taking a look through the peephole. His face dropped and his eyes flashed green before he calmed down and they became Alex's brown. I was confused, but I played along when he pushed me behind the door and opened it, keeping me out of sight.

"Hey, man, I got a call from one of your neighbors about seeing a creature lurking outside the building? It's tall, purple-ish skin, have you seen anything like it?" The man's voice was so familiar that I realized who it was and why Max was afraid. It was Fred Jones.

"Nah, man, just the normal stuff around here. I go running often and I think I would have seen something like that." He flexed his pecs, taking on the personality of Alex which was actually really hot to witness. Max was playing it off, even laughing the way my asshole neighbor used to when he thought he said something slick.

"Alright," Fred sighed, "take my card, if you see anything please don't hesitate. I'm Fred Jones from the Jones detective agency."

"I know who you are."

"You do?" Fred squinted.

"Yeah, I have a TV. I remember you from back in the day. What was it, Mystery Company or something?"

"Mystery Incorporated," Fred rolled his eyes, "please let me know if you see anything weird."

"Will do." Max started to close the door, but was suddenly stopped by Fred's shoe.

"Hey, do you mind if I come in for a drink of water? I've been chatting with all the neighbors and I am parched." He started to walk inside, but Max immediately extended his arm and held the door to prevent Fred from entering.

"Hey, bro, you can't just do that." Max pushed him back and as he stumbled back Fred caught my eyes peering through the hinges. Fuck.

"No worries." Fred dusted himself off and readjusted himself before walking towards the stairs. As Max closed the door, I rushed over to the window and looked down at the parking lot. Sure enough, the mystery machine was parked in the lot with its faded paint. Fred appeared from the entrance and had his phone up to his ear.

"Yeah, I think it's here. There was something weird about this one apartment," he leaned against the van, "no, I'm not - listen with the Daemon Ritus gone and this creature wreaking havoc doing who knows what we have no idea what is actually happening. Anything that solves the mystery, right?" He looked up at our window and I threw myself backwards to avoid being caught. Max was there to catch me in his arms.

"Thank you." I said with a smile. I dusted myself off.

"I'm sorry. I think I may have caused some trouble." Max had this apologetic look on his face that was super cute.

"No need to apologize. I know you said you wanted something more permanent, but I think we might need to get you a new temporary skin." I said, going to the kitchen and pulling out the jar. There was now a couple layers of tape around the lid for extra security. We were going to need to find a new body, but this time we were going to have find them.

We enjoyed ourselves as we got dressed for a night out in Crystal Cove, putting on our best club attire. Max's body had a closet filled with clothing meant to show off his sexy body and I had thrown something together from my own closet, making sure to leave the top buttons undone to show a little bit of my chest.

"You look nice," Max said, unbuttoning another button to show a little bit more and sliding a finger inside the shirt, "now let's go have some fun."

The music was loud and I involuntarily nodded my head as we walked in together. I had been here before, one of my favorite local hangouts with a wild history. The back parts of the building was a local mine shaft that had closed down and eventually the city sold it after some drama with the buyers and it became Crystal Cove's hottest spot for the gay scene. I like coming in during brunch for the drag shows.

"Can I get a gin and tonic. He'll have a - " I looked over at Max who was already dancing in spot, " - two gin and tonics plus a tequila shot. That's for me."

"You brought a friend tonight?" Mel was a very talented bartender and they tossed the glasses and bottles around like it was nothing. They quickly poured the tonics and then dressed the shot glass, covering the rim in salt before pushing the lime slice onto the glass. I passed Max's drink to him and then slid my card to the Mel.

"On the house. I'm glad you're seeing someone." They winked at me and then walked over to help another club goer. Max bounced from side to side before chugging the drink I have him. I took the shot, trying to save face, and when I looked back at Max he was making a face at the glass.

"What is this? It's disgusting." He put the glass on the bar top.

"I forget you're new to alcohol." I chugged my own drink and just as I put the glass back on the bar Max took my hand and spun me out onto the dance floor. He pulled me into him as we started grinding on each other with the bass bumping around and odd looks abound as this hunk danced with this tall chub. His hands moved into my waistband and I could feel his finger pushing against my ass as I pulled at his back, my fingers getting knotted in his fishnet shirt.

We were still looking for a new body, but we took the time to enjoy each other until we both saw someone watching up. He was sipping from a thin black straw at a booth at the edge of the building. He smirked when we both looked over, a signal. Max went over first, he was, after all, controlling that sexy body. I reached inside my cross body bag and pulled out the covered jar containing Alex and waited for Max to give me the signal.

"He wants both of us." Max came back and whispered in my ear with a grin, took my hand, and brought me back to the stranger. I was in awe as the stranger took us into the back, the cave and all of its mine shafts were still lit and was now used as a hook up spot. The man spun to face up when we reached a corner, pulling me into a kiss. I was taken by surprise, but his lips were so soft and I eventually started easing my hand around his waist. Max slid his hand around our waists and then the stranger kissed him. I took a moment to grasp the jar in my bag and then felt it slip into the dirt below. I used this as an excuse to start unbuttoning the strangers pants.

"Oh, fuck yeah." He said, pushing his groin out obnoxiously as Max continued to make out. Max stepped away for a second and let me take the lead. He took the jar and disappeared into a dark corner to open it. When the stranger went to look, I swallowed his cock and he closed his eyes to moan and enjoy the feeling of my wet mouth. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Max's convulsing body as he swallowed the protoplasm. The stranger was now too preoccupied, shoving my head onto his cock until I was choking, to notice the monster appearing from my neighbors chest. Before he could scream, Max let out a deep breath of green smoke and laid Alex's incapacitated body in comfortable position. I could feel the stranger's cock throbbing as I forced his cock farther down my throat, pre dripping inside of me. I continued to suck even when Max pinned him against the wall, ripping his shirt open and shoving his claws deep into his chest to rip out his protoplasm. He pushed it into the taped up jar and held up his body as he continued to throb in my mouth. After tightening the lid, he pushed himself inside the stranger as his cock continued leaking inside my mouth.

I was finally able to come up for air, stroking his hard cock as Max slid inside his new husk. His cock pulsed in a strange way once I saw the creature's feet lift off the ground and dissipate inside the stranger. His eyes opened and they were the bright green I was getting used to seeing. His leaking cock suddenly exploded as Max stole the climax and moaned out in bliss.

"Let's get out of here." I said, wiping my mouth. Max pulled himself together while I checked on Alex, hoping he would wake up and assume it was a wild night and cough it up to drunken stupor. We headed to the stranger's place, our old apartment no longer a safe haven due to Fred's investigation.

Fred tossed his phone into the van and jumped into the driver's seat. He pushed the back of his seat all the way down and stared at the peeling fabric on the roof of the vehicle. With an eye roll he dozed off and waited for night to come.

The sky was dark when he opened his eyes and the street was quiet except for the occasional drunkard or Uber driver completing their final trips for the night. Fred reached over and grabbed his bag of tools, pushing it onto his shoulders and then stepping out of the van to look up at my apartment complex. Lock picking came easy to him now that he had done it so many times, a skill he learned on the road to compensate for the fact that people thought he was just the dumb himbo face of Mystery Inc.

The door clicked open and he closed it to make sure no one would witness him breaking and entering. With a flashlight, he opened drawers and cabinets, making sure to put everything back in its spot. The search was fruitless, the Daemon Ritus was no where to be found and Fre had no idea where me might get his next lead until he saw the sketchbook left behind by the occupants. He flipped through the pages and tore out the rough sketch I had drawn to help Max communicate. This was his next clue and now Fred knew that this purple daemon had an accomplice.

#male possession #daemon possession #daemon

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curiositysavesthecat · 3 days ago

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Edit: a follow-up poll is posted here

*This poll was submitted to us and we simply posted it so people could vote and discuss their opinions on the matter. If you’d like for us to ask the internet a question for you, feel free to drop the poll of your choice in our inbox and we’ll post them anonymously (for more info, please check our pinned post).

#poll #polls #relationship #relationships #lovers #couple #friendship #yes or no #incognito polls #poll time #random polls #fun polls #debates #debate #debating #tumblr polls #tumblr poll #yes or no poll #yes or no polls

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dpennedit · 2 days ago

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TO LOSE YOU

A little angst prompt to hold over while I finish up the Xmas one, followed by Mister Mistletoe. If anyone wants to use this as an idea and/or continue on, please feel free to. Also this has not been proofread, so please ignore any grammatical errors. **Originally written as a MLM pairing.

You want it to work.

In the beginning, you promised yourself to do everything right—to bend to Terry's needs and fulfill his every desire. Commitment called, and you were ready to answer. You never wanted to fuel the myth that men like you avoid long-term relationships and monogamy. You were ready, more than ready, for forever.

As you zip your suitcase, you face the crushing truth that all good things must end. The constant arguments have become suffocating; you need to breathe. But losing him feels like losing your very breath. He has become your life, your comfort. Walking out of his apartment feels like pulling the rug out from under yourself, tumbling into the cold void of loneliness you'd long forgotten.

But there's no saving this, no matter how much you want to. With tears welling in your eyes, you bury the past and prepare to leave. You lift the suitcase from the bed, dropping it to the carpet with a thump. Grabbing your duffle, you sling it over your shoulder and step toward the door.

Each step up the hallway feels weighted with regret. Whether it's regret for leaving or for starting this relationship, you can't decide. All you know is that it hurts, as you struggle to breathe through shallow gasps. You stop in the living room, staring at the walls lined with memories that are now cutting you to the core. Pain grips you, squeezing your heart until tears spill over.

With trembling hands, you shield your face, feeling monstrous for erasing yourself from this house with no warning. You wouldn't be able to face him—even though you're about to.

A soft click snags your attention, and your head snaps toward the front door. The lock turns, and you whisper an obscenity, quickly trying to collect yourself. The door swings open, flooding the dim space with evening light. Terry stands in the doorway, watching you with wary eyes.

He closes the door, his gaze shifting to your bags, then settling on your tear-streaked face. Worry deepens his stern expression. As he steps toward you, you shake your head, stopping him in his tracks. His brows knit in confusion as he stops inches away, searching your face. The truth sinks in, and he looks off, a sharp breath escaping him. "No," he mutters, low and firm.

You close your eyes, drawing a breath, praying for strength. Heart thudding, you clench your jaw, eyes fixed on the floor, and make him aware that your mind is made. Terry meets your eyes again, the green and grey orbs swirling with growing distress. You've never know the man to beg, but it's clear that he's about to.

Unable to stand the tension, you retrieve your bags from the floor and attempt to move past Terry and out of the door. He traps you instead, his broad palms braced on each of your shoulders. You speak his name in full, something you've hardly done in the years of your relationship, and your seriousness settles even more.

Your voice is calm despite your nerves, and you don't meet his eyes as you speak. "Move out the way."

"Don't do this to me," Terry growls, guiding you backward and away from the exit. "C'mon, we can talk this out."

The words feel like a strike to the face, an offensive blow that earns a cold glare. You've tried to communicate your woes in every way—in layman's terms, phrases from counseling, even silence—but nothing worked. And now he's asking you to talk things out?

"Why?" The syllable soars out of your mouth, pricking him with visible confusion.

He stills, brows furrowed once again. "Why not?"

"There's nothing left to say. So why talk it out?"

A silent pause hangs as Terry's pillared shoulders crumble with defeat. You hadn't expected him to relent so easily, but you aren't going to stick around to question it either. With your things in tow, you push toward the door, not forgetting to snag your car keys from where they hang, and exit the apartment.

The door closes with a thud, and you halt. You've done it. You've left. It's a reality that becomes painfully apparent as you descend the steps, and you feel that stinging moisture in your eyes again. You shuffle across the lot to your car, loading your bags in the trunk. The driver's seat is next, and you're immediately keying the ignition before the door even closes. It's a slam instead, evidence of your frustration.

With an exasperated sigh, your head leans forward to rest on the wheel. You fight your tears, debating whether to let them free or stay composed until you reach your own apartment across town. Thank God you were wise enough to hold onto that. But although you have a place to return to, you don't have a home. Terry is your home, one you will undoubtedly miss.

Suddenly, your mind begins to toss with doubt. Should you stay?

You wearily lift your head, glancing at the apartment in the rearview mirror, only to see Terry rushing down the steps. He pursues you like a dark stallion, charging across the lot. His feet are like thunder, slapping against the pavement. Your breath hitches as your body becomes alarmed, and you shift gears. Before you can reverse, the man is already at your window.

Terry is frantic, knocking at the glass and pulling on the handle. "We can talk this out!"

You can only marvel at his desperation, mouth slightly agape. There's a whine in his low, muffled voice—foreign on your ears. What had come over him? Terry is usually so steady, so sure. Seeing him unravel reminds you that there's a human behind the walls you grew tired of trying to climb.

His pleading intensifies, his knocking knuckles now pounding palms against the glass. He begs you to open the door, sputtering promises to do better and listen. He's fighting for you, and you hate how it makes you reconsider. You want to let him in—but you know better.

You lock eyes with him, lips pressed into a thin line, and firmly shake your head. Your heart aches at the pain in his expression as his face contorts into a grimace. Before you can react, he angrily begins jerking the door handle.

"Open this fucking door!" He demands in a startling roar.

You panic and quickly move to reverse out of the parking space. All the while, he's still gripping the handle, determined to never let you go. You used to adore his strength, and can't believe that it might actually cause you injury now.

Before you can pull forward, Terry dashes to the front of the car, bracing his hands on the hood. He's glaring at you, both a warning and a plea. You flush with embarrassment—what if someone's watching?

"Baby, please," he croaks. "Don't do this to me."

You clench your eyes shut, swallowing down the will to lose all morale and run the bastard over. When they open, you take a hitching breath and roll the window down a safe measure, ordering him to step aside. Terry defiantly kicks the front bumper, fists clenched at his sides as he moves for the driver's side. You seize the moment to pull forward, catching him off guard.

Disregarding the stop sign, you pull out of the lot on a prayer that you don't wreck your car. Terry continues pursuing you even as you speed down the main road before finally tripping over his own feet. Hands gripping the wheel, you take frequent glances at the mirror, watching as he quickly scrambles to his feet. He squares his shoulders as if to make a second attempt, but seemingly decides against it, holding his head in despair.

#aaron pierre #terry richmond

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outsiders-gift-exchanges · 19 hours ago

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RULES for The Outsiders 2025 Valentine's Day Gift Exchange Event!

If you have any questions that this post does not answer, please please please send them to this blog’s ask box!!

general!

This is a fandom-wide event, so NSFW and Explicit gifts will not be allowed. Canon-typical violence and themes are allowed. If you are worried about where your gift falls in terms of rating, please reach out to a mod!

This is a fandom event for all forms of The Outsiders (Book, Movie, TV Show, and Musical). If there are specific elements from these materials you are uncomfortable creating or receiving, make sure to specify that in your sign-up form. The same goes for if you’d like your creation or gift to only be from one specific form of the Outsiders. Please understand that specific requests like this may not be able to be filled out, but I will try my best.

Before you sign up for this event, please take time to consider if you can create a present in the time frame provided. Participants dropping out of these events on short notice is quite common and is also stressful to deal with in large amounts.

sign-ups!

When you are asked what elements you would like featured in your art in the sign-ups, understand that your gifter is not required to fulfill every single request you send. Rather, they can choose between the different elements you request. Feel free to list your requests randomly or in order of importance.

The art forms listed are art (digital or physical), fanfiction/writing, web weaves, video edits/gifs, etc. If you’d like to create/receive a different form of art, please ask me first.

This event will not ban any characters, ships, headcanons, etc. but understand that gift assignments are given out based on who is willing to create art for your request. Less popular characters and ships may not be as readily received as more popular characters and ships. This shouldn’t deter you from requesting whatever you’d like, though!

after assignments!

Fanfiction/writing is recommended to have a minimum of 800 words! Art (physical or digital) is recommended to be past a sketch.

As a gifter, you must follow at least one request your giftee submitted to make sure everyone receives a gift they are happy with. If you have an issue with your giftee’s requests, please reach out to a mod as soon as possible.

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During the posting period, please post your gift (or a link to it, if you’re posting onto ao3, etc.) to tumblr and tag your giftee in the post so they see it!

the signups for this event will be posted later today!

#the outsiders 2025 valentines day exchange #important posts #the outsiders #the outsiders book #the outsiders movie #the outsiders 1983 #the outsiders 1967 #the outsiders musical #the outsiders broadway #the outsiders fandom #the outsiders fanfiction #the outsiders fanart #outsiders

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ihfmseatsoch · 1 day ago

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ok ok ok so if i may be so bold as to request something, ive been enamored wiht the idea of an older, controlling, borderline abuse boyfriend jimmy, like he and reader live together on earth, and reader goes to college, while jimmy works physical jobs trying to support them both. he's a SHITTY person though, so hes jealous of any man the reader talks to, reads through their phone, makes sinde comments about their weight and appearance, and (im totally not projecting here) eventually pressures them into dropping out, for like his perfect little live in partner/gf fantasy sjdhasd feel free to do whatever with this, but this specific scenario has not left my head for days

WHEEE this was fun to write ^w^ i rushed this a bit but i just didnt want you to have to wait any longer... :p

—

Jimmy Zare x fem!reader

reader uses fem terms (girl, girlfriend)

genre: how do i categorize this.... fic that makes you feel bad or horny depending on how you handle verbal abuse lol

word count: 1.8k

warnings/content: age gap, domestic abuse, manipulation, arguing, fat shaming, several references to the readers body/appearance, jimmy being the biggest asshole oh my god i hate him (i want him so bad it makes me look stupid)

(is it bad that writing about jimmy yelling at me turns me on... WOAHHH who said that .....😰 also dont kill me for the weight shaming part IM A FAT GIRL !!!!!! i like when evil men are mean to me !!!!!! RAAAH)

—

"He's a good guy, he can actually be really sweet!"

That's a sentence you find yourself saying out of complete muscle memory at this point whenever someone questions why your boyfriend–... well, they question an awful lot about your boyfriend.

For example, why he's over twenty years your senior whilst you're still going to class on the weekdays. Why he doesn't allow you to see your friends, wear certain clothes, leave your apartment without him, and why he takes up so much space in your brain, completely distracting you from your own life and goals.

You've missed at least four assignments this semester alone. It's stupid, really. You thought you'd be done with obsessing and crying over boys after you graduated highschool. It's completely immature for a so-called adult like yourself, but then again, you're hardly into adulthood at all.

Jimmy, on the other hand, has a lot more life experience, many of those experiences negative. That might be why you've taken some form of pity on him, going so far as to move into his apartment so you can take care of him when you're not busy. He needs someone to make sure he doesn't fall off the deep end.

The thing is, it's become hard to fit him in your schedule, but whenever you're unable to make time for him after he comes home from work, that familiar scowl on his face indicating it was another shitty day, he throws a fit.

He'll accuse you of everything under the sun; Infidelity being the primary thing.

"You don't love me. There's someone else, isn't there? It's that one kid that asked you to help him 'study' last week, isn't it? No? Give me your fucking phone, then."

This is what you come home to everyday, so it's nothing new. In fact, you're pretty used to it by now. Though today, Jimmy seems particularly pissed.

"Where have you been?" He crosses his arms and leans against the wall, eyeing you up and down like he always does when he's about to grill you on something.

"Sorry..." You mutter, way too tired to deal with one of his moods again. "Traffic." You answer simply, not having enough energy to overexplain yourself like you normally do.

"Uh huh. Traffic." He mimics you in a way that already tells you he's not buying it. Great.

"...It's the truth." You shrink into yourself at the way he's looking at you. Contemptuous as always. You're in for another argument, it seems. A million, desperate pleas run through your mind;

'Please don't give me another lecture about how you're my only financial support, and how grateful I should be. Please don't ask to see my phone. Please don't tell me to drop out.'

But, of course, you can't actually change the outcome of this. You're gonna get yelled at. Belittled. Degraded.

"You're two hours late, and you're gonna tell me you were just stuck in traffic?" He pushes himself off the wall and walks towards you.

"You're never home when you're supposed to be, and when you are home, you're all tired and upset.” He pokes a finger into your shoulder, hard. "What do you think that looks like from my point of view?"

"I'm sorry." You rub your face, exasperated. God, you wish he would shut up sometimes. Sure, he can be amicable, but lately... he's been a raging dick. Yet, you can't help but cling to the memory of his good moments. "I'll try to make it back on time tomorrow."

"Yeah? And how many times have I heard that before?" He sneers, "You're hiding something from me, aren't you?"

The way he accuses you so confidently, so sure of himself... it's insulting. Does he really think that little of you? "College has been kicking my ass, Jim. You know that. I'm not hiding anything from you, okay?"

"Yeah, yeah, college this, college that. Always complaining about fuckin' college," He scoffs, his eyes stay narrowed, still glaring. "How about what I'm going through? You think I'm having a great time every day at work, hm?"

"No, I–" You stammer, hating the way he's turning this around to make himself the victim. Oh, woe is him, having to provide for himself and his girlfriend. How tortured he is. "I know, alright? I'm sorry. I just– what else do you expect me to do?"

"Be here. Like you're supposed to be. And I expect you to stop acting like I'm the bad guy for asking you to be a decent girlfriend."

Jimmy's voice raises slightly as he takes a step closer, towering over your sheepish figure. He nudges your shoulder again, even rougher this time.

"I'm busting my ass every day to put food on the table, and you can't even have the decency to show up on time, let alone look happy to see me?"

"I– I am happy to see you! I am, I'm just– you don't get it. I want to be here, but... I'm not even halfway through this semester, and–" You stumble over your words as you attempt, in vain, to defend yourself. It's not like he'll ever feel sympathy for you. It's always about what he wants. What makes him happy.

Jimmy rolls his eyes at your attempt to reason with him. It's as if he doesn't even register a word you say. "But what? What's more important to you, huh? Some stupid classes, or the guy who keeps a fuckin' roof over your head and feeds you? Be grateful, goddamn it." He snaps, grabbing your arms and giving them a forceful shake.

You flinch from being handled like you're not even a human being, much less one with feelings. "Stop, please, I'm– I am grateful, I really am..." You're not lying, either. To be honest, his guilt tripping works wonders on you. Are you really acting unappreciative? He wouldn't be this upset if you were in the right...

He seems unfazed by your frightened demeanor and continues to hold a firm grip on your arms. He looks you up and down, not even having to say anything for you to know he's judging you, as a girlfriend and person in general.

"Oh, you're grateful? Then maybe you should act like it for once." Jimmy gives your arms another firm shake, a harsh reminder of who's in charge here.

"I'm not asking much of you. I just want you to be here, and you can't even do that. Do you think I'm just gonna sit back and accept that bullshit?"

"No..." You shake your head, looking down at the ground in shame. Were you really that awful? You didn't want to be a bad partner, it's the last thing you ever wanted. If you could make eye contact without feeling guilty, you'd see Jimmy's face light up with satisfaction as he finally notices you're not even bothering to put up a fight anymore.

There's a condescending lilt to his tone as he speaks, "No one will ever love you like I do. You know that?"

You nod, knowing there has to be some truth to his claim. He takes care of you, doesn't he? He keeps a roof over your head, gives you money for groceries, and he's not always that unpleasant to be around...

He's a good boyfriend. You're the problem. You always are.

"Exactly."

The grip on your arms eases, moving them to place a hand on each of your shoulders, contrastingly gentle compared to his behavior only moments ago.

"You oughta thank your lucky stars you have a man like me who puts up with all your bullshit. You get that, right? How lucky you are to be with me?"

You know he's right. You were blessed with someone who still loves you, despite your many shortcomings. You're too fat, the acne on your face and body is repulsive, the way you do your makeup is weird... all of this being things Jimmy has told you directly. At least you have an honest boyfriend, isn't that what every girl wants?

He gives your shoulder a pat, like he's treating you like a small, petulant child. "You realize I could have literally any girl I want, right? Pretty, skinny, smart ones, even. But I chose you. Because I care about you."

He pauses, letting that sink in.

"But it would help if you'd actually put the effort in to look decent." He adds as an afterthought.

You've internalized every single snide remark he's thrown your way, reminded of them every single time you look in the mirror. Yet he still loves someone like you. Someone so difficult and embarrassing to be with.

"Jim, I don't... I don't know how I'm even gonna be able to free my schedule at all with school and stuff..." You mumble guiltily. You know he wants you to drop out, he's suggested it more times than you can count.

"That right there, that's why I'm frustrated, goddamn it," He says with an exacerbated sigh. He moves one hand from your shoulder to pinch the bridge of his nose in annoyance. "Why don't you get it? Dropping out isn't the end of the world. Just quit and stay home. Done. Easy."

"It's not that easy... I want to get a good job and help out too, you know..."

It's true that you want to pull your weight around your shared home. With your combined income, it'd make everything easier. But... with how shitty college makes you feel, leaving you beaten down and tired by the end of the day...

You find yourself listening to Jimmy on this for once.

He can tell you're seriously contemplating it this time, which makes him feel... more in control. He's got you thinking and believing exactly what he wants you to. Soon, he'll be able to get you to obey him without another word from you.

The thought of having you as his subservient, stay at home girlfriend is more than appealing. It's his goal to mold you into what he wants you to be.

"Yeah, yeah, I get that, I know. But you're stressing yourself half to death, and for what? Some stupid degree? Listen to me, I'm not gonna ask you again. You're just creating problems that don't need to exist. Just quit. You'll have plenty of free time that you can spend with me."

You can't deny how tempting the idea is. Hesitantly, after several moments of pondering the hypotheticals and what-ifs, you speak up,

"...I guess... dropping out wouldn't hurt too much."

He perks up at that, barely being able to contain a delighted grin. You're actually putting him and his wants first, and acknowledging that he's right. You're doing as he says, without any of the usual arguing or excuses. He'll finally have his dream complaisant, docile girlfriend to come home to every night.

It only took a month or two to finally get you to cave. You'll be easier to control from now on. Hell, maybe you'll lose some weight with some free time on your hands, stop wearing that shitty makeup...

"Good girl," He says in a patronizing tone, like he's addressing a child, "That's what wanna hear."

God, you really hope this isn't a bad idea. Jimmy looks pleased for once, so...

This decision can't possibly ruin your future too badly, right?

—

#jimmy mouthwashing #mouthwashing #mouthwashing game #jimmy mouthwashing x reader #mouthwashing jimmy #mouthwashing x reader #dead dove do not eat #mouthwashing jimmy x reader #dead dove #tw abuse #abuse tw

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aldisobey · 2 days ago

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The Veilguard's Gift

AO3 link for you all

Set some months after the epilogue. Rook is feeling rested and visiting Neve at the Cobbled Swan for some easy work. Unfortunately the conversation doesn't get a chance to stay light.

------

A muse fairy visited me tonight and put this in my hands. Normally spend way longer with stuff before putting it out there but I know this'll be in wips way too long if I don't offer it up now and I think it's fun enough to share (or not we'll see how the morning hits haha). Full story below because it's shy of 2k, guess I wanted to practice Neve for the future.

“Rook. It’s good to see you.”

“Neve!” It’d only been a few months but he couldn’t help it. Rook took off dashing and engulfed her in a hug. Nearly sent them both tumbling into the muddied street at the violent joy of it.

“Whoa,” she responded with a dry laugh and a smirk, “must be doing well.”

Rook released her, still beaming and laughed in reply, the sound deep, and for once, maybe in all his years, rested. “My head’s finally quiet, I think I slept four weeks straight.” He hadn’t. Emmrich had made sure to wake him as much as need required, but those had been blissfully quiet moments, soft remembrances lost in fade of melding dreams.

“Aw, you’re thinking of him aren’t you?” She still smirked, dug an elbow into his side. The touch was grounding, made Rook blink and snap his head to the side where she walked with him. Their feet led them up the steps into the Swan as he gave a characteristic shake of his head.

“What?!” But he smiled, others might guess what subject his mind had retreated to when he spaced out, but Neve had a knack for knowing just what each glazed look was. Or…did she always guess Emmrich? Was it always him? Rook screwed his face in thought, and Neve chuckled low again, seemingly aware that she’d lost his attention to the lich once more.

“You’re still with him right? Where is he?”

The smile returned, but Rook kept the memories and distracting thoughts free from his mind as he and Neve made way to the preferred spot for the day in the Cobbled Swan. It shifted after all, and today the mood suited here. Sometimes intuition was the thing to follow.

“Of course! Neve we’re soulmates.” Said with his full chest, he cleared his throat, covered the sincerity with a chuckle. That was too loud, oh lord don’t think him too serious. Maker help him. It felt that and more.

“He’s back in Nevarra dealing with…” he nearly said lich business out loud. In the middle of Docktown's most prominent bar while accompanying someone that always drew eyes. He took a seat opposite the detective. Naturally Neve would meet him somewhere safe from enemies and their gossip. But it wouldn’t be uncommon for friendlier eyes to have an eye on her, for protection at the very least. Best not spread that ‘secret’ further than needed. “...Mourn Watch business.”

Rook muttered as he settled into his chair and folded his hands in front of him on the table. Nodded. Pleased with the answer and seeming importance of his partner. “You know classes and stuff maybe start…”

Neve copied his movements, leaned onto the table in much the same way, perhaps stoking a conspiratorial spirit as she made direct eye contact. It broke off his thoughts, paused his words. Rook felt a shiver on his neck, something in her eyes was dire, insistent, and he couldn’t turn his gaze from it as she spoke even, slow. “Soulmates or not, you should think about breaking it off.”

She wasted no time. Rook confirmed it. Emmrich wasn’t here. Lucanis had checked, double checked. The Warden was here alone. And she didn’t know when that would happen again. If ever? Didn’t feel like bringing up the subject around the professor. Oh he would understand of course, give them space, but could he listen? Would he still hear every word? Friend or not, the foundations of the patterns taking form were troubling, best nip this early if possible. If it wasn’t dealt with…

Rook was in shock, jaw dropped, folded fingers coming loose as he drew back. His breath escaped hushed, surprised, and without any thought, “Neve…what…I’m…life is perfect?” Pained. It was like he’d been slapped.

He figured they would be swapping stories of their work. Well, his tales were mostly rest, but he could share such things after some of those dreams. And this meeting was supposed to be his first foray into some relaxingly safe work. Like building a park or something. And surely she wanted to talk about Lucanis, the Threads, detective work…anything other than whatever this was? It started with pain, to confusion, and was simmering into irritation, why would she say that?

“Listen, Rook. I love Emmrich, we all do, sincerely. We’re happy for both of you. And we know he’s obsessed with you.” Rook wanted to mutter obsessed with each other thank you, but her flat tone was as sincere as ever, and the gravity of the moment kept him silent. But for once, the hint of a tremble entered her words, “Where do you think that’s going to lead as you age? If you ever choose to put yourself in real danger again?” she paused, something had caught her eye, a flit of magic or some thinning of the Fade.

Thankfully a Thread mage outside the Swan had seen the same and dealt with whatever it was, but for the briefest moment her eyes widened in rare shock, and her voice dropped to a whisper, “It might take you a while to realize, that’s fine…” this was taking too long, too painful to say aloud and to make real, she groaned, “...just, if you ever need to disappear, I specialize in that work, know people that do. And I’ll always be here to help you. Okay? I’ll leave someone in my place if I’m too old for all this, so know that it’s always. Even if you’re in Nevarra.” With that said she pulled something from her pocket.

“You know how to use some magic items right?”

Rook nodded. Steeped in silence at the ‘attack’ or whatever this was.

Neve revealed a ring, pressed it into Rook’s slack hands before he could protest. He picked it up from his palm. It had a thick gold band, set with a large deep purple sapphire, and within it glowing soft, without shedding light, was the elven rune for rebellion. But when it caught light just so it threw soft purple in the room. Rook didn’t have the keenest eye for such things, but even he could tell this was a princely gift.

“Lucanis paid for this.” Rook muttered as he turned it in close examination, at times searching for that spot where it threw the light. Neve laughed light at that, eager to soften the conversation as well.

“Oh? Looking to take my job are you?” Rook looked up from the ring to Neve’s winking face, and found that he could smile again.

“Consider it a gift from your Veilguard. Wear it at all times. Never take it off. Grave gold is a thing for you now right? If you're buried...well...it needs to be with you.” She spoke halting, slow, firm. Many things left unsaid.

But the Warden heard them, and the warmth of sentiment over receiving such a grand gift faded, replaced with a feeling tight in his throat, a shiver that ran from head to toe. He closed a fist around the ring, he didn’t dare wear it until this picture came into focus. “Why? Neve. It’s magic?”

She sighed, looked ready to reach for a pipe as she leaned back in her chair. Content enough that Rook held it for the moment. She took a deep breath and briefly held up two fingers, “It’s got two uses I need you to learn. And its magic nature shouldn’t be detectable. Dorian helped with that.”

Rook blinked, “Why’s that…but…is this a secret?” His heart beat fast. The ring suddenly felt cold where it sat digging into his palm.

“First use. Tilt it just so, it doesn’t need light just the right angle for that rune, then whisper ‘whatever it takes’. We’ll try to get to you as fast as we can. A safety precaution. It’s likely Emmrich already gave you something of the sort.” She nodded to an expensive new piece of gold on Rook’s right index finger that he’d started rolling with the thumb of the same hand. The Warden gulped, brain rebelling against fitting the pieces to the pattern Neve could see so clearly.

“A beacon.” he muttered.

Neve nodded once, “Mhm. And when you activate it, it should be undetectable, that light is attuned to you, I can’t see a thing. Dorian struggled with that but seemed satisfied by the result. It won’t alert Emmrich. It…” She refused to voice any doubt. Shrugged, a brow furrowed, sighed before a firm, “It won’t.” Silence came between them as drinks were delivered.

Rook stared down at his fist, the ring hidden from sight. Mind reeling at the implications of it all. So much thought that had gone into this. All that work. And from the best people he knew? Why? Why go through all this trouble? Spend all this money? On magic that was hidden from…Rook bit his tongue, nearly bled, but once they were alone, servers absent, he spoke, his voice flat, a certain irritability building, “The second use?” his knuckles were white, clenched hand nearly shaking.

“Instant conflagration. For the wearer.”

“What…” a whisper of horror, a burn of bile in his throat, Rook coughed, settled it, but his face fell. He could feel a roiling in his gut, wanted to throw the damned thing as far as he could, but something caught, he couldn’t. He grasped it tight, went pale, sweat beading his brow. “...why…what…Neve…” pleading for her to spell it out, at the same time he seemed likely to bolt, his eyes wild, round, looking for some way out of this conversation. Out of all this.

Neve reached across the table, placed her hands over Rook’s quaking fist, over that princely magic ring meant to protect him. Protect him from? The Warden's nails were digging deep into his palm, nearly cut into flesh before the Tevene stilled him. He expected cold hands from an ice mage, the warmth surprised him, but calmed the uncontrolled movements. A shudder ran his skin, a warm touch. He closed his eyes, calming, breathing, and then looked back at Neve.

“Rook. I’m sorry." He could hear the pain there, the true grief. Perhaps even disbelief that she had followed through, had made this happen. But then she cleared her throat, and Rook could see determination take hold. A confident resilience that knew this might seem extra, but precautions always did seem silly when the storm you prepared for had never been witnessed. At least not of the specific type, she had seen…other varieties.

"I need to be quick, I want you to know it’s perfectly safe to wear.” Neve squeezed his hand, gentle, reassuring as best she could, “Like I said, Dorian helped. It’ll only happen in very specific steps. It'll be instant. Leave nothing behind. I need to know that you’ve learned the steps.”

The Warden swallowed. Blinked back the heat threatening again. Neve withdrew her hands as she felt him still. Rook choked down the rising anger towards her, at this, and looked down again. Opened his hand, once bruised and cut, twisted, calloused. Now, he noticed with a soft smile and shining eyes. Scarred, but soft, still rough, but not so harshly calloused. He hadn’t had to fight in months. Was that so bad? The ring looked blurry in his vision.

He blinked at the loving gift, the cursed thing. Picked it up. Turned it again in the light, noted that hue of the sapphire, they'd captured a favorite, and that rune what it meant for them all, that weight, and there that cast of light. And he felt warmth again. Love radiating from the rest of that family he finally found. They were warning him. He didn’t believe them. Almost hated Neve for this.

He slid the ring onto his left index finger.

“What are they?”

#dragon age the veilguard #emmrich volkarin #emmrook #dragon age #datv spoilers #veilguard spoilers #datv #emmrich x rook #emmlich #rook x emmrich #neve gallus #I legitimately do not know where this came from so if it sounds off it's the fairy #I had fun and thats all I'm focusing on #angst is this angst I'll get better at tagging one day whoops

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ghoulangerlee · 1 day ago

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2025 GHOST FANDOM MINI BANG

As the holidays close and the year finishes out, it's now time to begin our long form winter project that should see us through to the spring!

Click Here for the form!

Contact me via email @ [email protected] Tumblr @ ghoulangerlee

Starting now, all posts regarding the mini bang will be tagged #ghost minibang 2025

To keep this from clogging dashes, please click read more for more information and details (including dates and specifications for the works)!

A few things:

You’ll notice on this form that it’s pretty basic, generic—this is gathering information for both writers and artists! Once I have this information, I’ll export it to an excel spreadsheet and from there, anyone who signed up as a writer will receive an email by no later than 6 JANUARY 2025

In that email, I’ll ask for a basic breakdown of the fic that you’re writing, including a brief summary, pairing, rating and 3 key points you’ll want to touch on during that fic.

Once you sign up, you are free to start on this fic—however that may be, with an outline or just outright writing it.

Artists, on 13 JANUARY 2025 you’ll receive a link to a sign-up sheet with the information I’ve collected from the writers, there will be NO names included with this information, so you’ll be picking based on the summary, pairing, rating and key points.

Once picking has closed, you’ll receive an email with you and your partner included, this will be a brief introduction email giving you a way to contact your partner. From there it is up to you to make contact with the person you’re working with. If you haven’t heard from your partner in 10 days, please contact me and I’ll reach out to them for you.

There will be a couple of check ins on 15 FEBRUARY 2025 and 10 MARCH 2025 these are just to gauge where you are and if you’re needing an extension! Be truthful and don’t let this bog you down, I’m here for you!

Once we reach the end of the writing/art period, you’ll receive another email with posting dates! Depending on how many people sign up, we may spread this over the span of a few weeks! You’ll pick a day from the ones listed and in agreement with your partner, you’ll post your works! As long as it’s during your timezone of the day you chose, that’s all that matters!

There’s an AO3 collection for this! But feel free to also post and share on tumblr! Comments and reblogs will be doled out for everyone!

You’ll notice on the signup sheet that there’s an option for Pinch Hitter (Artist)/Pinch Hitter (Writer), please only select that if you are comfortable pitching in if an Artist or Writer drops out and leaves someone without a partner! This means you will most likely write more than one fic or create multiple pieces!

A few more details:

Writers: Your fic must be at the minimum 5k but you can always write more!

Artists: There must be at least 2 accompanying pieces of art for the fic you’ve chosen! This can include things like banners, scene breaks, traditional art, digital art, manips, mood boards, etc!

GENERAL RULES AND FAQ

This event is 18+, and as such, you must have your age in your bio somewhere, whether it be an exact one or an age range.

We are all adults here and we’re here to have fun in our little fandom. If something happens and you need mediation, please reach out to me either by email, tumblr DM or discord.

Do not under any circumstance knowingly engage with content you do not like; this includes purposefully picking a fic idea you do not like specifically to spread hate about the creator. If you are found doing this, you will be kicked from the mini bang. This also extends to bullying in public spaces i.e discord or tumblr.

Beta reading is not required for this event, but feel free to have someone read over it if you’d like! Your artist (if they have time), a friend you usually ask to beta read your work. Unless there’s a need, I don’t think there’ll be any beta reader signups for this one, but if anyone would like to be put on a list of people to reach out to if a writer needs someone to look their fic over, then let me know!

Have fun! If at any point in time you feel like you’re running out of time/you’re not going to finish by the deadline, then reach out to me and we’ll set up an extension! This isn’t a college essay; there’s no penalty for posting past the due date.

I’d rather extend this for half the year than ever make someone feel like they’re being rushed to complete something for a hobby!

Other than that, I think I’ve covered all the bases, but please feel free to reach out with any questions! I can’t wait to see what you guys create with us!

#ghost fandom big bang #ghost minibang 2025 #posting this a bit early just in casies #i think i said the 30th but tbh the 27th is close enough

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niallerspayno · 15 hours ago

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There’s Company - Part 1

Masterlist

As Louis Tomlinson’s sister and the Assistant Tour Manager for One Direction, you never expected to get caught up in a secret fling with two of his best friends—Zayn and Liam. What starts as playful flirtation quickly turns into stolen moments and heated kisses. But as Louis starts to notice, the tension between you, Zayn, and Liam only grows, and navigating family, secrets, and your heart becomes a lot more complicated.

Tags: Zayn x Liam x reader, Louis x sister!reader, smut, kinda poly but not, secret relationship

Part 2 - coming soon

…

Being Louis Tomlinson’s younger sister comes with its perks—free concerts, traveling the world, and getting to work as the Assistant Tour Manager for one of the biggest boy bands on the planet. But it also comes with its challenges, namely your overprotective brother, who seems to think you’re still the same kid he used to chase around Doncaster.

You step into the suite’s shared lounge, the soft morning light streaming through the curtains. Tugging your scarf higher over your neck, you pray no one notices.

Louis glances up from where he’s sprawled on the couch, scrolling through his phone. His eyes narrow immediately. “What’s with the scarf? We’re in LA. It’s like 25 degrees outside.”

“Just felt like wearing it,” you reply, trying to sound nonchalant as you move toward the kitchenette.

Louis sits up, his suspicion practically radiating off him. “Hang on. Are you hiding something? What’s under there? A dodgy tan line? A new tattoo?” He grins wickedly. “Or maybe… hickeys?”

Your stomach drops. “No!” you snap, too quickly.

Across the room, Niall and Harry perk up, their attention now fully on you. Zayn and Liam, seated nearby, exchange a subtle glance, but both keep their expressions carefully neutral.

Louis smirks, standing and crossing the room with dramatic flair. “Oh, now I have to know. Let’s see it.”

“Louis, don’t—”

But it’s too late. He tugs the edge of the scarf down just enough to reveal the faint purple marks trailing along your neck.

The room erupts.

“Bloody hell!” Niall exclaims, laughing so hard he nearly spills his coffee.

Harry claps his hands together, grinning like the Cheshire cat. “Hickeys! She’s got hickeys!”

Louis steps back, his eyes wide with mock horror before breaking into a triumphant laugh. “I knew it! You’ve been sneaking around, haven’t you? Who’s the lad? Someone on the crew? A local? Please tell me it’s not a roadie.”

“Shut up, Louis!” you snap, pulling the scarf back into place, but the damage is done.

Louis folds his arms, shaking his head in mock disappointment. “Unbelievable. My own sister, sneaking around like this. Does Mum know?”

“Leave Mum out of this,” you grumble, your face burning.

“She won’t care, so long as it’s not some tosser,” Louis says with a shrug. His teasing grin softens just slightly. “Wait—he isn’t a tosser, right? Because if he is—”

“He’s not,” you interrupt, exasperated. “Can we drop it now?”

Louis studies you for a moment before smirking again. “Fine. But I’m watching you. You’ve got that post-snog glow. Whoever he is, he better be bloody perfect, or he’s answering to me.”

You roll your eyes and head for the door. “You’re the worst.”

As you make your exit, you catch Zayn biting back a smirk and Liam suddenly finding the floor very interesting. Their silence feels deafening, but thankfully, Louis is too caught up in his teasing to notice.

The last thing you hear before the door closes behind you is Louis muttering, “Honestly, I don’t even want to know. She looks way too happy for me to handle.”

…

Last Night

The hotel suite is alive with energy, a post-show celebration in full swing. The laughter of the band fills the air as the alcohol flows freely, and the music pulses from the speakers. Everyone’s gathered around in a circle, including you, as the chaos of the tour seems to dissipate into the late-night haze.

Louis, in the middle of it all, keeps everyone laughing with his antics, while Niall and Harry joke around, throwing playful jabs at one another. You’re content to sit back, watching the familiar banter, but tonight something feels different. The game begins when someone suggests Truth or Dare, and you’re pulled in, much to your reluctant amusement.

It starts innocently enough—simple dares, harmless truths. But you notice the way Zayn and Liam keep glancing at you, their eyes lingering just a bit too long whenever it’s your turn. It makes you feel… seen. Not in the way your brother sees you or the way the bandmates see you as just Louis’ sister, but something else. Something you can’t quite put your finger on.

As the game progresses, the energy shifts. Zayn leans in when it’s your turn, his voice low and teasing. “Truth or dare?”

You meet his gaze, trying to play it cool. “Dare.”

He smirks, his gaze drifting over the group. “I dare you to kiss someone here… but not just anyone. Someone who’s been eyeing you all night.”

You try to keep your nerves at bay, but you know exactly who he’s talking about. Both Liam and Zayn have been looking at you like they know something you’re not ready to admit. You give a brief glance to Liam—his eyes meeting yours for just a second before he looks away—and you feel the heat rise in your cheeks. You can’t ignore the tension in the air anymore.

You stand up, feeling a thrill course through you, and kiss Zayn on the lips—quickly, a brief brush, but enough to send a jolt through you. You sit back down, pretending the room is still as carefree as before, but you can feel the weight of the moment settling in, especially with the way Liam is watching you now, his expression unreadable.

The other guys laugh and cheer, not catching the spark in the air. They think it’s just part of the game, no big deal. But you can feel Zayn’s eyes on you now, a silent acknowledgment of the tension that’s thickening between you, Liam, and him.

The game moves on, but now it’s Liam’s turn. He looks straight at you, his gaze almost daring. “Truth or dare?”

You try to keep your composure, but something in the way he asks makes your stomach flip. “Dare,” you reply, unable to do anything but go along with it.

He leans forward, his voice dropping to a whisper just for you. “I dare you to kiss me.”

You blink, your heart skipping a beat. His dare isn’t just part of the game. It’s a challenge, and you can’t back down. You don’t want to. Without thinking, you lean in, your lips meeting his in a kiss that feels anything but innocent. It’s slow, heated, the kind of kiss that’s not meant for a game but for something more, something real.

You pull away, breathless, and look around to see Louis, Harry, and Niall laughing, completely oblivious. They’ve all seen the kiss, but they think it’s just part of the game. They don’t see what you and Liam both feel—the undeniable chemistry between you that’s been building for months.

Before you can fully gather your thoughts, Zayn leans over and presses his lips to yours once more, his kiss deep and urgent. You can’t help but give in to it, the excitement and the pull between the three of you too strong to resist.

You pull away again, your mind spinning. Zayn gives you a smirk that only makes your heart race faster. He knows exactly what he’s doing, and Liam’s eyes on you confirm that he does too.

The game continues, but you’re barely paying attention anymore. You can feel the tension between you, Zayn, and Liam, and it’s clear they both want something more. But the others are laughing, oblivious, not picking up on the way the air between you three is charged.

As the laughter starts to die down and the group begins to break off, you feel a pull toward the balcony. The air inside the suite is growing warm with the lingering heat of the party, and you crave the cool night breeze. You slip outside, hoping for a moment of quiet, but you’re not alone for long.

Zayn steps out behind you, his presence unmistakable. He leans against the railing, his eyes fixed on the city lights in the distance, but you can feel the unspoken words between you. There’s a heaviness to the silence that wasn’t there before.

He lights a cigarette, offering one to you, which you take gratefully. The smoke feels almost comforting between the two of you, like it’s giving you both space to breathe, to process what just happened inside.

“I didn’t expect you to actually kiss me,” Zayn says, his voice low but teasing, as he exhales a cloud of smoke into the night air.

You glance at him, a little embarrassed but intrigued. “I didn’t expect you to kiss me back.”

His lips curve into a smirk, and he takes another drag from the cigarette. “Guess we’re both full of surprises, then.”

You nod, your mind still racing from the dares, the tension. But the cool air outside, combined with the quiet between you, feels like a release. The kind of release you didn’t know you needed until now.

You lean against the railing next to him, letting the cigarette burn between your fingers, but your mind keeps drifting back to the heat in the room—the heat from the kiss with Liam, the touch of Zayn’s lips. It’s a dangerous feeling, this electric connection. But the pull is undeniable, and Zayn’s presence is magnetic.

Zayn turns his head to look at you, his eyes dark, but there’s a playful spark there too. “You should’ve kissed me longer in there,” he says, his tone barely above a whisper.

You raise an eyebrow, feeling the playful challenge in his words. “Maybe I didn’t want to.”

“Or maybe you were just waiting for the right moment,” he suggests, stepping closer, the space between you shrinking. The cigarette between your fingers burns down, forgotten.

You don’t say anything, the weight of his words settling between you, and before you can process, Zayn is right there. His lips meet yours in a kiss that’s deeper than the one from the game. His hand reaches up, cupping the back of your neck as his other hand slides down your waist, pulling you closer to him.

The world fades away—there’s only Zayn, his lips, his hands, and the overwhelming desire that takes over. You kiss him back, letting go of any hesitation. The chemistry that’s been simmering all night bursts into something more, something intense. You feel the heat between you both, the urgency.

When the kiss breaks, you’re both breathless. Zayn presses his forehead against yours, his breath mingling with yours. “I’ve wanted to do that for a while,” he admits, his voice rough.

You smile softly, trying to steady your own racing heart. “Yeah, me too.”

Before you can say anything else, Zayn pulls you back into another kiss. This time, it’s slower, more deliberate, and you feel everything—the way his lips move against yours, the way his body fits against yours as if you were made to be this close.

Your hands find their way to his chest, and just as you’re getting lost in the moment, the sound of the door opening behind you breaks the spell. You pull away quickly, your heart hammering in your chest.

Liam steps outside, looking at the two of you with a knowing smile. “I thought I’d find you two out here.”

You look at Zayn, who smirks back at Liam, his hand still resting on your waist. There’s no turning back now. What started as a game is quickly becoming something much more complicated.

“You mind if I join?” Liam asks, stepping closer to the balcony. There’s a teasing edge to his voice, but there’s something else too. Something deeper.

You glance at Zayn, who gives a subtle nod, and then look back at Liam. The tension between the three of you is undeniable.

“Make yourself comfortable,” Zayn says with a grin, handing Liam a cigarette.

Liam steps closer, his eyes glinting in the dim light as he takes a long drag from the cigarette Zayn handed him. The air between the three of you is thick with unspoken words, a tension that's both thrilling and dangerous. You're caught between them now, and there's no denying the chemistry that's pulsing in every glance, every breath.

"You know," Liam says, his voice low and smooth, "you really shouldn't leave a guy hanging like that." He flicks the cigarette to the ground, stepping closer to you, his body heat radiating against yours.

You glance at Zayn, who watches the exchange with a knowing smile, then back to Liam. "I didn't leave you hanging," you reply, though your voice is shaky, betraying the anticipation bubbling up inside you.

Liam's lips twitch into a half-smile as he moves closer, brushing a lock of hair from your face. His fingers linger, tracing the curve of your jaw as he closes the space between you. Without warning, he leans in, kissing you deeply. It's different from the game, more intense. You melt into it, your hands sliding up his chest, pulling him closer.

Zayn watches, a slight smirk playing on his lips. He's not the least bit jealous. Instead, he seems content, his eyes flickering between the two of you with amusement. When Liam pulls back, his thumb caresses your bottom lip, eyes dark with desire.

Zayn takes a step forward, leaning in to kiss you on the neck, just below your ear. "We're not fighting over you," he murmurs, his voice like velvet. "This... this is just how it's going to be."

Liam chuckles softly, brushing his lips against your temple. "Yeah. No need to fight." His fingers slide down to your waist, pulling you gently toward him. "You're ours, aren't you?"

You can barely think straight, your heart pounding in your chest as both men crowd around you, their hands finding their way to your body in the most tantalizing way. Zayn's lips press softly against your neck, his breath warm against your skin. You feel the heat building between the three of you, an irresistible pull that only grows stronger with every touch.

Liam leans in again, kissing you hungrily, his hand threading into your hair, tilting your head back to give him better access. The kiss deepens, the world around you shrinking to just the heat of their lips on yours, the taste of smoke and desire lingering in your mouth.

Zayn's hands roam, finding the curve of your hips as he pulls you flush against him, his body warm and solid. The tension between the three of you is palpable-there's no escaping it now.

Without warning, Liam breaks the kiss, his voice hushed but filled with raw intent. "We're both going to have you, yeah?"

You can barely get the words out, but you nod, breathless. "Yes."

Zayn grins, his lips brushing against your skin,"Good girl." And then, with a devilish glint in his eye, he presses you backward, guiding you toward the wall of the balcony. Your back hits the cool surface, the sudden impact making your pulse race even faster.

Liam steps forward, his eyes dark and hungry as he watches Zayn. "You ready?" he asks, his voice rough. You can't find the words to respond, but your body says everything. You nod again, breathless, anticipation making you tremble.

Zayn leans in, kissing you again, his lips hot and urgent. Liam watches, his gaze never leaving you. Then, as Zayn pulls away, Liam is there, immediately taking his place, kissing you fiercely. His lips are demanding as his hands slide up your back, pulling you even closer.

The heat between you escalates, their hands roaming, caressing. Zayn moves beside you, his lips brushing against the sensitive skin of your neck, trailing down to the spot just beneath your ear. You gasp as his lips press firmly against your skin, leaving a mark-a dark, unmistakable bruise. Liam's eyes flicker to Zayn's handiwork, and he grins.

"You're going to look so beautiful covered in both of us," Liam murmurs, his voice husky with desire. He kisses you again, harder this time, his hands gripping your sides, pressing you even more firmly against the wall.

Zayn moves to the other side of your neck, kissing and biting lightly, his teeth grazing your skin as he leaves another mark. You moan, your head tilting back, completely lost in the sensations they're creating. Your body is on fire, every inch of you craving more.

Liam pulls away just enough to look at you, his expression a mixture of satisfaction and hunger. "I want to see you marked by both of us. I want everyone to know who you belong to."

You can't form a response. All you can do is nod, your body trembling in their arms. They know exactly what they're doing, pushing you to the edge of madness, and you're powerless to stop it. Zayn's lips move lower, marking the line of your jaw, while Liam trails kisses down your throat.

Liam's lips trail lower, finding a sensitive spot on your collarbone, while Zayn shifts his attention to your ear, his teeth grazing the shell before he presses a kiss just below it. Their combined focus on you is overwhelming—every touch, every kiss stoking the fire they've lit inside you.

Zayn pulls back slightly, his dark eyes scanning the marks already blooming on your skin. "You're a masterpiece," he murmurs, a proud smirk curling his lips.

Liam hums in agreement, brushing his thumb gently over a fresh bruise he's just left near your shoulder. "Couldn't resist," he says, his voice low and rough. "You wear us so well."

They exchange a look-silent but loaded with meaning-and without warning, both of them lean in at the same time. Liam's mouth finds the curve of your neck on one side, while Zayn presses his lips to the other. You gasp, your body arching against the wall as they kiss, suck, and bite in tandem, their movements perfectly in sync.

It's too much, their attention sending waves of pleasure coursing through you. You clutch at their shoulders, barely able to stand under the intensity of it all. When they finally pull away, you're left breathless, your skin tingling where their lips had been.

Zayn steps back first, his smirk softening into something more intimate as he brushes a thumb over your cheek. "Satisfied, love?" he teases, though his voice holds a tenderness that makes your heart flutter.

You nod, still struggling to catch your breath, "Completely," you manage to whisper.

Liam chuckles, his hand finding its way to the small of your back, steadying you. "Good," he says, his voice warm but laced with a mischievous undertone. "Because we're not done with you yet. Just... not tonight."

Zayn grins at that, sliding an arm around your waist briefly before stepping back entirely, "We'll keep this between us," he says, his tone suddenly serious. "No one needs to know-especially not Louis."

"Agreed," Liam adds, his gaze locking with yours. "This stays our secret. But... if you want this again, we're not going anywhere."

The weight of their words settles between you, but there's no fear, no hesitation. Just the thrill of knowing that this connection, however unconventional, is yours to explore. You nod, giving them a small, playful smile.

"I think l'd like that," you say, your voice soft but sure.

Zayn chuckles, reaching out to brush his fingers lightly against the newest mark on your neck. "Good. Because we're not done leaving our mark on you."

Liam steps back, offering you his hand. "We should head inside before someone comes looking for us."

You take his hand, Zayn's fingers grazing your lower back as the three of you slip back into the hotel suite. The sound of laughter and conversation greets you, the others still caught up in their own world, oblivious to what just happened on the balcony.

Zayn leans close one last time before disappearing into the room. "Sleep well, love. We'll see you soon."

Liam flashes you a wink before following Zayn, leaving you standing there, your heart racing and your skin still tingling from their touch. As you glance at the reflection of your neck in the glass door, the faint bruises visible even in the dim light, you can't help but smile.

This is only the beginning.

…

Present day

Armed with two steaming cups of coffee, you make your way to the venue, slipping through the backstage door with practiced ease. The morning buzz of roadies and crew fills the air, and you duck past a stack of cables, balancing the drinks like a pro.

Paul is already on stage, clipboard in hand, barking orders to a tech about the mic setup. You’ve always admired his efficiency—managing the chaos of a world tour is no small feat, and he does it with the ease of someone who’s been at it for decades.

“Morning, Paul!” you call, holding up one of the cups as you approach.

He turns at the sound of your voice, his expression softening when he sees you. “There’s my favorite assistant tour manager,” he says with a warm grin, taking the coffee you hand him. “You’re a lifesaver, you know that?”

“I try,” you reply, smiling as you take a sip of your own drink. “What’s on the agenda for sound check?”

Paul doesn’t answer right away. Instead, his sharp eyes narrow slightly as he takes a longer look at you. His gaze lingers on your neck, and you feel the telltale heat of a blush creeping up your cheeks.

“Did you forget your scarf this morning, or…?” he asks, raising an eyebrow.

You choke on your coffee, hastily setting the cup down on a nearby crate. “What?”

“Don’t ‘what’ me,” Paul says, crossing his arms. “Those.” He gestures vaguely toward your neck. “You’ve got… quite the collection of love bites, kid.”

Your hand flies to your throat, trying to act casual as you brush your fingers over the marks. Damn it. You’d hoped the makeup would last longer. “Oh, uh… it’s not—”

“Don’t even try,” Paul interrupts, his tone walking the line between teasing and stern. “I’ve been around these boys long enough to know what that looks like. And I know Louis would blow a gasket if he saw.”

You laugh nervously, avoiding his gaze. “It’s nothing to worry about, Paul.”

“Nothing to worry about?” he echoes, his voice incredulous. “You’re Louis’ sister. And you’re on my team. That makes it very much my business.”

“Paul,” you groan, but he’s already in full dad-mode, his brow furrowed as he looks you over.

“Look, I don’t need to know who it is,” he says, holding up a hand. “Frankly, I’d rather not. But I swear, if it’s one of those boys—”

“It’s not,” you blurt out quickly, cutting him off before he can finish.

Paul’s expression doesn’t soften. “Good. Because I’d hate to have to kill someone before the tour’s over.”

You can’t help but laugh, though there’s a nervous edge to it. “I promise, Paul. It’s all fine. Nothing to worry about.”

He studies you for a long moment, then sighs, taking another sip of his coffee. “You’re an adult. I get it. Just… be careful, yeah? And for the love of God, get better at hiding those.”

“Noted,” you say, your cheeks burning.

Paul shakes his head, muttering something under his breath about “kids these days” before turning his attention back to his clipboard. “Right,” he says, shifting back into business mode. “Let’s get this sound check sorted. We’ve got a tight schedule today.”

Relieved to have the conversation behind you, you pick up your coffee and follow him toward the stage. But even as you focus on the task at hand, you can’t shake the small smile tugging at your lips.

If only Paul knew just how complicated—and thrilling—your life had become.

…

The venue buzzes with activity as the band prepares for soundcheck. You’re stationed near the edge of the stage, clipboard in hand, scanning the setup while sipping what’s left of your coffee. Paul is somewhere behind the soundboard, barking orders about the drum levels, leaving you to keep an eye on the boys as they warm up.

Louis and Niall are bickering about who gets to stand where during the first song, Harry’s lounging on a speaker scrolling through his phone, and Liam and Zayn are testing their mics. Or at least, they’re supposed to be.

Instead, Liam glances in your direction, his hand resting casually on the mic stand. “Sounding good over there?” he asks, his voice loud enough to carry but soft enough to sound almost… intimate.

You glance up, pretending not to notice the faint smirk playing on his lips. “The sound? Great. You? Questionable.”

His grin widens, and he steps closer to the edge of the stage, his eyes locked on yours. “Harsh, love. You sure you’re not just cranky from missing sleep?”

Your cheeks heat, and you quickly look back at your clipboard. “I’m sure.”

Before you can come up with something sharper, Zayn joins in, his deep chuckle cutting through the hum of the speakers. “Don’t mind her, Liam,” he says, leaning casually on the mic stand. “She’s just overworked. Carrying all of us on her back can’t be easy.”

You narrow your eyes at him, trying to hide your smile. “If that’s your way of apologizing for being late to call time yesterday, it’s not working.”

Zayn presses a hand to his chest, mock-offended. “Late? Me? Never.” His eyes flash with mischief as he lowers his voice, just enough for only you to hear. “Besides, I made up for it last night. Didn’t I?”

Your breath hitches, and your clipboard nearly slips from your grasp. You glare at him, but the smirk on his face tells you he knows exactly what he’s doing.

Liam notices and steps in, his voice smooth as he taps his mic. “You know, Zayn, maybe we should cut her some slack. It’s hard work being this close to perfection all day.”

“Close to something,” you mutter under your breath, earning a soft laugh from Zayn.

“Focus, lads!” Paul’s booming voice echoes through the venue, breaking the moment.

Zayn gives you a wink as he straightens up, his mic in hand. “You heard the boss.”

Liam smirks, his attention lingering on you for a beat longer before he steps back into position. But even as the band starts their warm-up, the heat of their glances doesn’t let up.

During a quick break between songs, Zayn saunters to the side of the stage, crouching just low enough to catch your eye. His voice drops to a murmur, barely audible over the hum of the equipment. “Save me a cigarette for later?”

You arch an eyebrow, pretending to think about it. “If you’re good.”

His grin is wicked, full of unspoken promises. “Oh, I’m always good.”

As he steps back, Liam passes close enough to brush his hand lightly against your arm—a touch so brief you wonder if you imagined it. His voice is low, only for you. “Careful, love. Don’t get caught staring.”

Your heart skips as he moves on, singing the opening lines of the next song like he didn’t just leave you breathless.

You exhale slowly, turning back to your clipboard. Professional. You have to stay professional. But when Zayn glances at you again, and Liam sends you another quick, knowing smile, you realize something very dangerous: they aren’t going to make it easy.

…

The hotel elevator doors slide open, and you step inside, relieved to finally be heading to your room after a long, exhausting day. The relief lasts all of three seconds-because standing there, looking far too casual and far too enticing, are Liam and Zayn.

"Long day?" Zayn asks, leaning lazily against the mirrored wall. His eyes skim over you, slow and deliberate.

"Isn't it always?" you reply, trying to keep your voice steady.

Liam chuckles, his hands tucked into his pockets. "You look like you could use some company."

Your gaze flicks between them, your pulse quickening. There's no mistaking the heat in their eyes. "And let me guess-you're volunteering?"

"Maybe," Zayn murmurs, his lips curving into a smirk. "Depends on if you'd let us."

The elevator hums quietly as it starts to ascend, but the tension in the small space is anything but quiet. Zayn's gaze holds yours, while Liam steps just close enough for you to feel the warmth radiating from him.

"You've been teasing us all day," Liam says, his voice low, his head tilting just slightly.

You're about to protest-when Zayn's hand moves, quick and deliberate, pressing the emergency stop button.

The elevator jolts to a halt, and your heart skips a beat. "What are you-"

"We've got a few minutes before anyone notices," Zayn interrupts, his voice calm but tinged with hunger. He steps closer, his body crowding yours against the cool metal wall. "Thought we'd take advantage of it."

Your breath catches as Zayn's lips find yours, the kiss intense and demanding, his hand cupping the back of your neck to hold you in place. Liam is right there too, his hand brushing your arm as he leans in to murmur in your ear.

"Tell us to stop if you want," Liam says softly, though there's a teasing edge to his tone. "Otherwise, we're not holding back."

You don't even hesitate. "Don't stop."

That's all the permission they need. Zayn's hand slides to your waist, pulling you closer, while Liam's lips graze the side of your neck. His kisses are slow and deliberate, sending shivers down your spine.

"You drive us mad, you know that?" Liam murmurs, his teeth grazing your skin as he leaves a small, deliberate mark. "Walking around like you don't notice what you do to us."

Zayn chuckles against your lips, his voice low and rough. "She notices. She's just good at pretending she doesn't."

Your laugh turns into a soft moan as Zayn kisses down the line of your jaw, his teeth grazing your collarbone. Liam's hands are steady on your hips, holding you in place as he works his way up the other side of your neck, leaving a trail of heat in his wake.

It's overwhelming-the way they touch you, the way they move like they've done this a hundred times before. They're perfectly in sync, taking their time, their lips and hands exploring every inch of you they can reach.

"Gotta be quick," Zayn mutters, though his actions are anything but hurried. His lips find the sensitive spot just below your ear, and you bite your lip to keep from crying out.

Liam presses a kiss to the corner of your mouth, his breath hot against your skin. "You're gonna think about this all night, aren't you?"

You nod, barely able to form words.

Your nod is all the encouragement Liam needs. His lips curl into a smirk against your skin as his hands tighten on your hips, pulling you closer against him. "Thought so," he murmurs, his voice low and full of intent.

Zayn shifts, his lips brushing yours again briefly before he pulls back, his eyes dark and assessing. "Don't hold back, love," he says, his hand sliding down to your waist. His presence is steady and grounding, but it's Liam's touch that sends a fresh wave of heat through you.

One of Liam's hands trails downward, his movements slow and deliberate as he tests your reaction. His fingertips skate over the waistband of your jeans, teasing, before slipping just underneath.

You gasp softly, your head falling back against the elevator wall as Zayn leans in to kiss along your jaw. "Shh," Zayn whispers, his lips grazing your ear. "Don't want anyone to hear, do you?"

Your body feels like it's on fire, torn between the heat of Zayn's mouth and the growing pressure of Liam's hand. His fingers slide lower, past the fabric of your underwear, and you can't stop the soft sound that escapes your lips.

"Quiet," Liam murmurs, his voice a husky whisper against your neck. "Be good for us, yeah?"

Your knees threaten to buckle, but Zayn steadies you, his hands firm on your waist as Liam's fingers begin to move. His touch is confident, knowing exactly where to apply pressure, and you're completely at his mercy.

"God, you're already so wet," Liam says, his tone laced with satisfaction. His lips brush against your temple as his fingers circle just the right spot, drawing another muffled moan from you. "You've been thinking about this all day, haven't you?"

You nod again, barely able to think, let alone speak. Your hands grip Zayn's shirt as you struggle to stay upright, your body trembling under their combined attention.

"Look at you," Zayn murmurs, his voice soft but teasing as his lips trail lower, just above the neckline of your shirt. "So desperate for us."

Liam chuckles quietly, his fingers working you closer and closer to the edge. "You're gorgeous like this," he murmurs, his lips brushing against your jaw. "Let go for us, love."

It doesn't take long before the tension inside you snaps, and you're falling apart in their arms. Liam's fingers don't stop until you're trembling, your breath coming in short, shaky gasps.

When he finally pulls his hand away, he smirks, his thumb brushing your cheek as he steadies you. "That's my girl," he says, his voice filled with quiet pride.

Zayn steps back just enough to meet your gaze, his hand brushing a strand of hair from your face. "Told you we'd take care of you," he says, his grin wicked and full of unspoken promises.

The sound of a distant alarm jolts all of you back to reality, and Zayn quickly presses the emergency button again, restarting the elevator. It hums to life, and you scramble to fix your clothes, your cheeks still flushed.

When the doors slide open, Zayn and Liam step out first, their movements casual as if nothing had happened. But before Liam turns the corner, he glances back at you, his eyes dark and knowing.

"Sleep well," he says softly, his voice still carrying that teasing edge.

The doors slide shut, leaving you alone, your heart still racing and your body still humming from their touch.

You take a deep breath as the elevator hums to the next floor, willing yourself to calm down. The heat in your cheeks still lingers, and your body feels heavy from everything that just happened. You can’t stop thinking about Liam’s touch and Zayn’s smirk, the way they completely unraveled you in just a few stolen minutes.

As the elevator doors slide open, you step out into the hallway, smoothing down your clothes and running a hand through your hair. You just need to get to your room and compose yourself. Maybe splash some cold water on your face.

But your plans crumble the second you round the corner and nearly walk straight into Louis.

“Whoa there!” Louis says, grabbing your shoulders to steady you. His expression quickly shifts from surprised to curious, his eyes narrowing slightly. “Where have you been?”

You force a laugh, brushing him off as casually as you can. “Just grabbing some air.”

Louis crosses his arms, his gaze sharp as he studies you. “Grabbing air, huh? So that’s why your neck looks like a bloody connect-the-dots puzzle?”

Your stomach drops. You bring a hand up to your neck instinctively, your fingertips brushing over the fresh marks Liam and Zayn had left. Damn it.

“It’s nothing,” you say quickly, trying to step past him.

But Louis isn’t having it. He moves to block your path, his expression softening slightly but still full of big-brother concern. “Hey. I’m not mad, alright? But I’ve gotta know—who’s the guy?”

“There’s no guy,” you lie, your voice a little too defensive.

Louis raises an eyebrow, his lips twitching like he’s trying not to laugh. “Right. So you just tripped and fell into someone’s mouth, yeah?”

“Louis!”

“What?” he says, grinning now. “You’re my sister, and it’s my job to give you grief. But seriously…” His tone shifts, becoming quieter, more serious. “You know I’m just looking out for you, right? I don’t want you getting hurt.”

The sincerity in his voice makes your chest tighten. You know he means well, but there’s no way you can tell him the truth—not without it blowing up in everyone’s faces.

“I’m fine,” you assure him, meeting his gaze. “You don’t have to worry.”

Louis studies you for a moment longer, clearly not satisfied with your answer but deciding not to push. “Alright,” he says finally. “But if this mystery guy steps out of line, you tell me. I’ll sort him out.”

You force a smile, nodding quickly. “Got it. Thanks, Louis.”

He steps aside, letting you pass, but his voice follows you down the hall. “And maybe invest in some scarves or something. You’re terrible at hiding evidence.”

You roll your eyes, grateful that he can’t see your face as you unlock your door and slip inside.

Once you’re alone, you let out a shaky breath, leaning against the door. Your mind races, replaying the events of the night and Louis’s reaction. You’ve always been good at keeping secrets, but this one? It’s getting harder and harder to hide.

…

Part 2 - coming soon

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