#i have a lot of really complicated feelings towards * gestures * everything

[thedeafprophet]

I really would just like to see more hard of hearing characters in general, esp with hearing aids in modern settings.......... i rarely ever see such in any of the media i engage in, and more often then not hearing aids are the butt of a joke about getting old.

it'd be nice to see more hard of hearing characters just... be.

[puffins-muffins]

Control - The Attraction

Pairing: Jax Teller (AU-ish) x FemaleLawyer!Reader Word Count: ~10,370 Summary: Back in Charming, your return to TM and SAMCRO leaves you feeling a complex mix of nostalgia and anxiety. As Jax's trial approaches, you face mounting pressure from a relentless prosecution and your growing feelings for Jax complicate your focus. Warnings: 18+ only please, cursing, descriptions of anxiety/panic attack. Brief mention of character death(s), Jax (he's his own warning).

A/N: Ommmmgggg you guyyys!! I am blown away by all the love and support for this story! This one was an emotional rollercoaster. It kiiiinnd of got away from me, but with reader back in Charming now, there was a lot that needed to be explored. Feedback always appreciated. Beta'd by myself, all mistakes are my own. Please enjoy it as much as I do!! Part 3, here we go! 💜

Part 1 | Part 2

Sitting at the old diner, the one you and your dad used to frequent for dinners, you stared down at your untouched coffee, the bitter scent rising into the air, tightening the knot that had taken residence in your stomach. You had sworn to yourself years ago that you wouldn’t get pulled back into this world, into the familiar emotional storms. Yet, here you were, back in Charming, with Jax only a few miles away—and that ironclad resolve you once had was starting to fracture.

Your conversation from the interrogation room replayed relentlessly in your mind, Jax’s words as sharp now as when he first said them. “Maybe you’re afraid you’re not over me.” He looked right through you, cutting past your defenses. He had seen the truth in you, that you hadn’t really moved on. Not completely. With one look, he knew it.

You hated that he could still read you so easily, that after all these years apart, he still knew exactly which buttons to press. It was maddening, that sense of vulnerability. You were supposed to be stronger now. Smarter. But being around Jax, it felt like every wall you had built came crumbling down the moment you walked into that room. The way he looked at you—like no time had passed at all—made it impossible to pretend that you didn’t feel the same pull. 

Seeing him again brought it all rushing back. The way he used to look at you, the way he made you feel like the world outside didn’t exist when you were together. How he’d made you feel seen and understood, in a way no one else ever had. You spent years trying to fill that void, tried to find that connection with others, but it had never been the same. No one had never been Jax.

You sighed, rubbing your temples, the weight of it all pressing down on you. What was it about him that made it so hard to let go? After everything, after all the pain, the heartbreak, why did being near him still make you feel like you were tethered to him in some unbreakable way?

A familiar voice pulled you from your thoughts, warm and gravelly with a hint of surprise. “Well, aren’t you a sight for sore eyes.”

You glanced up, finding Wayne Unser standing a few feet away, his worn face cracking into a smile. The knot in your stomach eased, replaced by a wave of nostalgia. You stood, offering a hug that he accepted warmly. “Chief! It’s so good to see you.”

He chuckled as he pulled back, shaking his head. “Ain’t the Chief anymore, darlin’. Haven’t been for some time now.”

You smiled, gesturing toward the empty seat at your table. “You’ll always be the Chief to me,” you said fondly.

He nodded, settling into the chair across from you. There was something comforting about having him here, someone who had always been in your corner and witnessed your life intersect with the club’s chaos.

“I was hoping we’d run into each other while I’m in town.” you said, your tone soft as you folded your hands on the table. “You really saved my ass with that character letter.” 

Unser waved it off, his smile fading as he leaned back in the chair. “Would’ve done a lot more if I could’ve. Jax may be in deep, but I’ve known that boy since he was runnin’ around on his tricycle. He’s a good man, even if he’s gotten himself tangled in a mess.”

You nodded, feeling the weight of the conversation shift. Unser had always seen the good in Jax, even when others didn’t. And that loyalty was something you admired, but it also made you wonder how much of Jax’s actions over the years Wayne had turned a blind eye to, how much he excused for the sake of it.

“Jax’s world has gotten a lot more complicated,” you said carefully, not wanting to betray the growing unease you felt about the case. “But I think he’s still the same underneath all of it. I just hope I can do enough to get him out of this.”

Unser gave you a long, knowing look, his eyes scanning your face like he was searching for something. “I can tell this ain’t just about the case for you,” he said, voice low but steady. “I remember how you two used to look at each other. It was you and Jax against the world for a while there.” 

You glanced down, feeling the heat rise in your cheeks, but before you could respond, Unser continued, his tone softer now. “You know I care about Jax. Always have. And I care about you too. I ain’t tryin’ to meddle, but you gotta be careful. That world, it takes more than it gives. And once it gets its hooks in you, it’s hard to break free.”

His words hung heavy in the air, and you found yourself nodding slowly, the truth of what he said sinking in. But you had always known that. You experienced first-hand the toll the club took on people, felt how it could consume everything. 

“I know,” you said, voice barely above a whisper. “I always promised myself I wouldn’t get pulled back in.”

Unser smiled gently, but there was a sadness in his eyes. “Sometimes life has a way of draggin’ us back to the shit we swore we’d never return to. You just gotta make sure it’s what you really want.”

You took a deep breath, the weight of his words settling over you. “I’m only here to keep him out of prison,” you said, and though you meant it, you could hear the uncertainty in your own voice.

Unser didn’t press further. Instead, he gave a slow nod, his gaze softening with understanding. “Just remember, there’s always a choice, even when it doesn’t feel like it. And I’m around to help anyway I can.” 

You offered him a grateful smile. Wayne Unser had always been more than just the town’s chief of police—he had been a guiding presence, a steady hand amid the disorder. And now, even though his health was failing and his role in Charming had changed, he still had that same calming influence.

“Thank you, Chief,” you said sincerely. 

He reached across the table, patting your hand gently. “You’re gonna be alright, darlin’. And your Daddy’d be real proud of you. Just keep your head on straight and don’t let that boy take you down with him.”

His words about your dad hit you harder than you anticipated. A familiar ache of loss surged in your chest, and you swallowed thickly, managing a small smile. If he were here, he would be proud of you; he lived and died by this club, loyal to SAMCRO until the bitter end. In ways you hadn’t fully comprehended yet, that loyalty ran deep within you as well. 

For a moment, you allowed yourself to believe that maybe you could navigate this, maybe you could keep the line between personal and professional from blurring. But as Unser stood to leave, his words stayed with you, lingering in your mind after he’d walked out the door.

You sat there a while longer, staring at your coffee, knowing that soon enough, you’d have to face the inevitable—Jax, the case, and everything that came with it.

That evening, you sat cross-legged on the hotel bed, your laptop balanced on a stack of case files, the screen glowing in the dimly lit room. The soft hum of the air conditioner filled the silence as you stared at the notes scattered around you, taking a deep breath before unmuting the conference call.

“Alright, Liz,” you said, your voice steady despite the mental whirlwind of information you were trying to process. “Let’s go over what you’ve found so far.”

Liz’s voice crackled through the line, sharp and focused, though you could hear the exhaustion creeping in. You both had been burning the candle at both ends. “First off, the witnesses—they’re falling apart. Like I mentioned earlier, one of them wasn’t even in town on the night of the murder. And the other? He’s changed his story three times now. The prosecution’s trying to hold them together with duct tape and hope.”

A smirk tugged at the corner of your mouth as you jotted down notes, but the situation was far from funny. “Good, we’ll shred them on cross. What about the arresting officer? Connolly?”

Liz’s tone shifted, growing more intense. “Connolly’s dirty. Filthy, actually. I tracked down a couple of large deposits made into his account, way beyond his salary. The timing of one deposit matches up almost perfectly with Jax’s arrest.”

Your breath hitched for a second, your pen pausing mid-note. “So he’s being paid off,” you muttered, processing. “We just need to find out who’s pulling his strings.”

“That’s where things get murky,” Liz replied, her voice lowering. “I’ve got leads tying him to a rival MC, but nothing concrete yet. It’s more like whispers. Still digging.”

The mention of the rival MC made your pulse quicken. This wasn’t just a murder case—it was layered with club politics and buried secrets. “If we can prove Connolly’s connection, it could blow the prosecution’s case wide open. Anything on the murder weapon?”

“No sign of it,” Liz said, frustration seeping into her voice. “The cops don’t have it, and no one’s talking.”

You leaned back against the headboard, tapping a pen against your knee as you reviewed your strategy. “We hit them where they’re weakest. Discredit the witnesses—tear their timelines apart. Then expose Connolly’s dirty money and ties to the rival MC. If we paint him as corrupt, we cast enough doubt to cripple their case.”

It was a solid plan, but your mind wasn’t entirely on it. Jax lingered in your thoughts, you hadn’t seen him since you dropped him off at TM, just a few exchanged texts. You knew you were avoiding him—avoiding the way his presence stirred up old feelings.

The case was slipping into something bigger, and you couldn't afford distractions. But no matter how hard you tried, Jax was always there, just under your skin, pulling you closer, and threatening to unravel everything.

Your phone buzzed, jolting you from your thoughts. It was Jax. It was as if he knew he was consuming your mind.

“Heard you’re back in Charming… avoiding me?”

Your stomach tightened. You’d forgotten just how small Charming was—news traveled fast, especially when it involved Jax. A mix of irritation and anxiety settled in as you realized that even without him realizing it, he was forcing you to face everything you’d been trying to avoid. Each moment brought you closer to the inevitable, and despite your best efforts to stay distant, you knew you couldn’t escape it forever.

You stared at the blinking cursor on your phone, but the weight of everything felt overwhelming. Not just Jax—the entire case. Connolly, the witnesses, the unexplained deposits. Something felt wrong. You couldn't shake the feeling that something deeper was at play, something corrupt and insidious threading through the heart of this case. But whatever it was, it would all have to wait. First, you had to deal with Jax.

“Everything okay?” Liz’s voice cut through your haze, snapping you back to the present.

You cleared your throat, adjusting your grip on the phone. “Yeah, just a text from Jax. He knows I’m in town.”

There was a pause on the other end, and you could practically hear Liz’s raised eyebrow. “Wow, his ears must’ve been burning. You’ve been avoiding him, haven’t you?”

You let out a short, hollow laugh. “Yeah, you could say that. I’ve been busy with prep, but... it’s more than that.” You pushed yourself off the bed, pacing the room. “The truth is, seeing him again after all this time... it stirs up shit I’ve tried to move past. But I know I can’t keep dodging it forever.”

Liz didn’t press further, always knowing when to hold back. “You’ll handle it. You always do.”

You sat back down on the bed, staring at Jax’s message again. “It’s just… TM, this place, it’s like stepping into a time capsule. It holds all the memories from when everything was simpler. When things weren’t so... complicated.”

Liz was quiet for a moment, then spoke softly. “Do you think he’s changed? Jax, I mean.”

Her question hit deeper than you expected. You’d been avoiding that thought too. From the few moments you’d shared recently, it was clear that life had weighed heavily on him. The charm was still there, but beneath it was a hardness, a fatigue you hadn’t seen before. And yet, the pull between you, the familiarity of him—it was still there, almost as if no time had passed at all.

“I don’t know,” you admitted, your voice quieter now. “Maybe he has, maybe he hasn’t. Part of me thinks he has. The other part knows better.”

Liz was quiet for a beat. “Well, if anyone can navigate this, it’s you. Just… don’t lose yourself in the process.”

You swallowed hard, her words hitting closer to home than you wanted to admit. “I won’t,” you said, more to reassure yourself than to convince her. “Thanks, Liz. You’ve done great work so far. Just promise me you’ll be extra careful. The people we’re looking into are dangerous.”

“Absolutely,” Liz replied, her tone serious. “Just remember, you’re not in this alone.”

You nodded, even though she couldn’t see you. “Thank you, that means a lot. I’ll call you after I meet with the club.”

Liz’s tone sharpened. “I’ve got my guard up, don’t worry. I’ll keep pushing on Connolly and the money trail. We’ll crack this.” she added before the line clicked off.

You set the phone down beside you, staring at it for a moment before typing a quick response to Jax.

“Let’s meet tomorrow. Noon. TM.”

You hit send before you could overthink it. There. Done. Now it was just a matter of facing whatever came next. You were confident in your ability to handle the legal side of things, but Jax... that was different. Seeing him again wasn’t just about the case; it was about the past, about unresolved emotions, and the complicated mess of history between you both.

But as you leaned back against the headboard, that familiar knot of uncertainty tightened in your stomach again. Charming felt like a minefield—corruption beneath the surface, power plays behind the scenes. And at the center of it all was Jax, pulling you into something that was about more than just legal strategy.

You weren’t sure what the next day would bring, but one thing was certain: this wasn’t just another case. It was personal, in more ways than one.

And you weren’t sure if you were ready for that.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

As you pulled into Teller-Morrow, your stomach twisted with unease. You hadn’t even stepped out of the car yet, and already you felt the weight of the memories pressing down on you. Before you could even gather your courage, the office door swung open, and there she stood—Gemma Teller. 

Your breath caught in your throat. Gemma had always been more than just Jax’s mother—she was a force of nature. The history between you two was complex, a mix of respect, tension, and unresolved emotions. She had always wanted Jax to take his rightful place at the head of the club, and at times, you felt like she viewed you as a threat to that vision. She never outright said it, but you could feel it in her looks, her comments, that underlying worry you’d pull Jax away from the life she envisioned for him. In her mind, love was dangerous if it meant her son might stray from the path she’d set for him.

But things hadn’t turned out the way any of you expected. The decisions Jax made, the path the club took—it all happened regardless of your love.

Somehow, you willed yourself out of the safety of your car, and now, standing here in the parking lot, you weren’t sure how Gemma was going to greet you. Would it be the sharp-edged woman who used to see you as a potential obstacle, or the maternal figure who had, at times, treated you like family?

As she approached, her sharp gaze softened slightly when she saw you. There was a flicker of something—recognition, nostalgia maybe—but Gemma being Gemma, it was hard to tell what she was really thinking. She stood there for a moment, looking you over, as if assessing whether time had changed you—or if you were still the same woman she once had a complicated relationship with.

“Well, look who’s back,” Gemma said, her voice laced with that familiar mix of sarcasm and curiosity. Her eyes scanned you, and though her expression remained unreadable, you could feel the weight of her scrutiny. She hadn’t lost her edge.

“Gemma,” you said, stepping forward, trying to keep your voice steady, even though your heart was pounding. “It’s good to see you.”

For a split second, the tension hung in the air. Then, to your surprise, her lips curled into a half-smile, and she pulled you into a hug. It wasn’t warm exactly, but it wasn’t cold either. It was… familiar.

“You too, baby,” she said softly, her tone just a little gentler than you expected. When she pulled back, her eyes locked onto yours, searching for something, though you couldn’t quite tell what. “Missed having you around here.”

Her words caught you off guard, but you nodded, unsure of how to respond. The history between you both was too complicated for simple pleasantries. Gemma folded her arms, giving you another long look. “You still look good, kid. All grown up. Life must be treating you well out there.”

“Something like that,” you replied, offering a faint smile. You wanted to say more, but any words caught in your throat.

She raised an eyebrow, and you could feel her probing deeper, looking past your words to the things you weren’t saying. “I know coming back here ain’t easy for you,” she said, her voice lowering, all traces of humor gone. “Lotta ghosts, I’m sure. But Jax needs you, sweetheart.”

There it was. Gemma was always three steps ahead, and this time, she was trying to use your own feelings against you. She wasn’t just reminding you of your connection to Jax; she was weaponizing it. Like she always did when she wanted something.

But this time, you saw it clearly. Years ago, you might have let her play on the soft spots you had for Jax without even realizing it. Back then, you were less guarded, still figuring out how to navigate people like Gemma. But now? Now you were older, sharper, and you understood her game better than you ever had before.

Then again, with Gemma, it was always about Jax first and foremost. Beneath the tension, there was a quiet, unspoken respect between you—born from your shared loyalty to him. And you almost couldn’t fault her because of it.

Almost.

You fought the urge to roll your eyes, instead forcing the sweetest fake smile you could manage. “I’m here to help,” you said, your tone flat but polite.

Gemma studied you for another long moment before she nodded, her expression softening just a bit. “Good.” She gestured toward the clubhouse with a tilt of her head. “They’re inside. Go on in, baby.”

You hesitated, feeling the weight of everything you were about to walk into. Then, with a deep breath, you headed toward the clubhouse, knowing that the real test was just beginning.

The door creaked open, and you stepped inside, feeling a wave of familiarity wash over you. The air was thick with the scent of leather, motor oil, and the faint tang of beer and cigarettes. It was captivating, pulling you back in time. Memories rushed in—laughter echoing through the halls, heated arguments by the bar, the camaraderie that once filled every corner. The nostalgia was almost too much to bear.

The room hummed with energy, a mix of business and brotherhood. Heads turned when you walked in, the club members greeted you with expressions that ranged from curiosity to warmth. Jax stood near the bar, flanked by Chibs and Tig. His body language was casual, but the moment his eyes locked onto yours, everything seemed to shift. That tension, the current that had always existed between you, surged again. You felt it deep in your gut, that familiar flutter that left you off balance.

"Look who finally decided to show up!" Tig's voice cut through the room, teasing and lighthearted, a grin spreading across his face. He approached quickly, pulling you into a tight side hug and pressing a kiss to the top of your head. "Thought we'd have to send out a search party."

You forced a smile, trying to push down the knot in your chest. "Guess I couldn’t stay away forever, huh?"

Chibs was next, stepping forward with his usual warmth, his broad shoulders a comforting sight. "Good to see ye, lass," he said, pulling you in for a brief but solid hug. His embrace steadied you, easing the tension just a little.

"You too, Chibs," you replied, your voice steadying as you caught sight of the "Sergeant-at-Arms" patch across his chest. He was still looking after his brother, still his protector.

And then there was Jax. He hadn’t moved from his spot by the bar, his posture relaxed, but his eyes—those piercing blues—were locked onto you, unreadable yet intense. Something flickered in them as he watched you cross the room. Anticipation? Vulnerability? You couldn’t quite place it, but it made your heart race.

“Hey,” Jax said, his voice low and calm, offering a nod that felt almost casual—except for the way his gaze held yours, unrelenting.

“Hey,” you replied, forcing a lightness into your tone that didn’t match the way your chest tightened. It didn’t feel casual. Not with him standing there, the weight of his presence bearing down on you, making the room feel smaller.

Looking impossibly good in his leather kutte, worn and weathered, clinging to him like a second skin. His broad shoulders were more defined than you remembered, the white T-shirt underneath emphasizing the lean muscle that flexed with his every subtle movement. His jeans hung low on his hips, and at his side, the knife that once belonged to his father—a reminder of the life he was born into. But in contrast to the rough edges, his signature white Nikes were spotless, a small, almost ironic sign of the control he still maintained amidst all the mayhem.

With that familiar boyish smile tugging at his lips, and his gaze holding you captive, it felt like time hadn’t moved at all. The pull between you, always there, had only intensified. His eyes swept over you, lingering just long enough to make your breath catch, and in that moment, your carefully built defenses began to dismantle.

Jax didn’t need to say anything for you to feel it—the connection, the history. And as you stood there, caught in his gaze, you realized just how much power he still held over you.

Exhaling a shaky breath, a familiar towering figure stepped into your space. Opie stood before you, his presence bringing you back instantly. His eyes were soft but filled with gratitude, and though he didn’t say much, you could feel the depth of his emotion.

Without a word, he pulled you into a tight hug, his arms strong and comforting around you. The weight of everything seemed to ease as you leaned into him. There was something solid, unwavering about Opie—his presence had always been a source of quiet brotherly strength.

He pulled back, just slightly, his hands resting on your shoulders as he looked you over. There was no need for words between you. You could feel what he was saying in the look he gave you—a silent thank you, for being here, for standing by Jax. It wasn’t easy, and he knew it.

“Ope,” you said quietly, your fingers gently brushing over the VP patch stitched into his kutte. He nodded, his gaze softening even more. He didn’t need to say it; you knew he appreciated you more than words could express.

After a beat, he released you with a gentle pat on the shoulder, stepping back but keeping that connection between you.

You finished greeting the rest of the Sons, taking in Happy and Juice for the first time, while Jax stood nearby, arms crossed, his posture casual but his eyes sharp. He gave a quick introduction. “Juice is sort of our intelligence officer,” he said, nodding toward the younger man with a smirk. “Anything you or your girl need, he’s your guy.”

You gave Juice a polite smile, but your mind was racing, struggling to process everything around you. The room was filled with faces—some familiar, some new—each one stirring a different emotion. Jax’s voice broke through the noise in your head, steady and low as he filled you in on what you’d missed. He listed off Bobby, currently away in Vegas on an Elvis gig, Piney’s tragic death, and then, quieter, Clay’s betrayal and eventual demise. These weren’t just updates—they were the scars the club carried, and you could feel the toll it had taken on them.

Your eyes flicked to Opie, a silent understanding passed between you. Piney’s death wasn’t just a club loss—it was deeply personal, and you could see the weight of it in Opie’s eyes. There were no words needed. Just that brief acknowledgment of everything you’d both lost due to this life.

You glanced around the room as he spoke, the walls lined with mugshots and memories. There was more than you remembered, each one a stark reminder of the lives that had been lost or altered. Jax’s voice, though calm, carried the heavy toll of everything that had happened. “We’ve had to rebuild… but we’re still standing.”

You nodded, trying to absorb it all, but the sheer weight of the club’s history left you spinning. So much had changed, and yet, in so many ways, everything felt the same. The familiarity of it—the faces, the raw energy of the room—only made the losses hit harder. Processing Jax’s brief rundown of the club’s last decade felt like trying to catch your breath while drowning. The room felt entirely too small, the air thicker with years of grief, brotherhood, and blood.

Your chest tightened, and suddenly the noise of the room faded, replaced by a suffocating sense of overwhelm. The memories of your dad, the endless cycle of loyalty and sacrifice, the faces you used to know—it all crashed into you at once, relentless and unyielding. You could feel your pulse quicken, your breath becoming shallow. The walls felt like they were closing in, the weight of the past pressing down on you, and no matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t stop the anxiety from bubbling up.

Your hands trembled as you pulled your phone out of your pocket, desperate for an escape. “Hey, do you guys mind? I need to check in with my office real quick,” you said, trying to sound nonchalant, though your voice was tight and strained. Without waiting for a reply, you turned on your heel and headed for the door, the room suddenly too stifling.

The warm air hit your skin as you stepped outside, but it did little to calm the storm brewing inside. You hurried to the side of the building, out of sight, and leaned against the rough brick wall, your breaths coming in shallow, rapid bursts.

You pressed your trembling hands to your chest, willing your body to calm down, but the tightness only worsened. The faces inside, the ghosts of the past, the changes you hadn’t been there to see—it all swirled around you. And Jax, standing there like a god damn living reminder of everything you’d tried to move on from, only made it harder.

Your pulse pounded in your ears, and your vision narrowed as the panic surged through you. You squeezed your eyes shut, focusing on your breathing, but each one felt like you were dragging it through quicksand. The edges of your vision blurred as you fought to keep from losing control entirely.

You pressed your back harder into the wall, as if grounding yourself to something solid would keep you from slipping under. One breath, then another. But the waves kept coming, relentless, and all you could do was ride it out.

Lost in your desperate attempt to control your thoughts, Jax’s sudden appearance startled you. “Jesus Christ, Jax!” you gasped, “Can’t a girl have a panic attack in peace!?”

The humor was your defense, but he saw right through it. His eyes softened, and he took a small step closer, his expression full of quiet concern, no judgment in his gaze.

“These still happening?” His voice was gentle, like he already knew the answer but needed to hear it from you.

You shook your head slowly, trying to reassure him—or maybe yourself. “It’s been a while,” you admitted. And it had been. The panic attacks hadn’t started until after your dad’s funeral, when the weight of everything had finally come crashing down on you. They had been rare since then, but being here—back in the thick of it—was bringing it all back.

Jax had been there for the first one. You could still feel the memory of his hands cupping your face, his thumbs brushing away your tears as he’d tried to steady you.

“Just breathe, Pep. You’re alright, baby,” he’d murmured, his voice strong yet soft, grounding you as you fought for air. His hands held you like an anchor, keeping you planted in the present, calming the storm raging inside you.

You could see in his eyes now that he wanted to do it again—grip your face, hold you still, remind you how to breathe—but he resisted, just watching you carefully, giving you space to pull yourself back together.

“I’m okay,” you whispered, voice softer now, the edge of panic slowly retreating.

Jax nodded, his gaze never wavering, his presence a quiet reassurance. He didn’t push, didn’t offer words that would feel too heavy right now. He just stood there, close enough that you could feel him, the steady hum of him calming the storm inside you like it always had.

As the tightness in your chest began to ease, you exhaled slowly, embedding yourself in the present. Jax stayed where he was, steady and familiar. You didn’t have to look up to know his eyes were still on you, watching patiently, waiting for you to be ready.

You shifted, pushing your hair back, trying to regain your composure. “So,” you began, your voice a little uneven, “that crash course in club history… it left out a lot.”

A small, knowing smile tugged at Jax’s lips. “Figured I’d save the rest for when you weren’t looking like you were about to bolt.”

You let out a breathy laugh, shaking your head. “You really know how to make a girl feel welcome.”

He shrugged, taking a small step closer. “You’re here, aren’t you?”

It wasn’t really a question. He had always been good at saying what mattered without actually saying it. You nodded, meeting his gaze. The air between you was charged, but somehow, it felt a little easier now.

Jax leaned against the wall beside you, his shoulder just close enough that you could feel the warmth radiating from him. Neither of you spoke—just stood in the weight of all that had changed, all that remained. Despite the years and distance, there was a strange comfort in the quiet, a reminder of the bond that never really broke.

“I didn’t know it would be like this,” your voice barely above a whisper. “Coming back.”

He glanced over at you, his eyes softening. “It’s different now. A lot’s changed.”

You nodded, feeling the weight of his words settle over you. “Yeah,” you murmured, not elaborating because you didn’t need to. He understood. He always did.

Jax shifted slightly, his arm brushing yours in a way that felt intentional but not forceful. “But some things are still the same,” he said, his voice carrying a comfort that felt like home.

You turned your head, really looking at him this time. And in that moment, you realized nothing had changed between you, not really. All the ways Jax made you feel alive were still there, as intense as ever, threading their way through this version of you. The laughter you’d shared, the unguarded moments, all echoed in your mind, reminding you of why it had been so easy to love him all those years ago.

You were screwed.

“Yeah,” you said quietly. “Some things.”

Jax held your gaze, his eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that made your heart skip. He nodded slightly, then asked, “You ready to head back in?”

You took a deep breath. “Yeah,” you said, forcing a small fake smile. “Ready as I’ll ever be.”

He straightened up, extending his hand to you. It wasn’t just a simple gesture—it was an offer of solidarity, a bridge between the past and the present. You hesitated. You knew what taking his hand meant. It wasn’t just comfort—it was an acknowledgment of everything that once existed between you, everything that still lingered.

And those hands, rough, calloused—the hands that had held you, commanded you, loved you. Memories surged, the way those hands used to move over your body, strong but gentle, leaving you breathless in ways that no one else ever could. Your pulse quickened at the thought, your body remembering what your mind tried to suppress.

You considered pulling back, keeping the distance you’d carefully built to protect yourself. But there was something in his gaze—steadfast, patient—that made you relent. Maybe it was the silent promise of understanding, or maybe it was the sense that, for once, you didn’t have to face it all alone.

As you slid your hand into his palm, the rush of contact sent a familiar ache through you. Like touching a live wire, the sensation both comforting and dangerous at the same time.

The years between you seemed to dissolve, and it felt like you were back to a time when holding his hand meant safety, when it felt like the most natural thing in the world. But now, that safety was bittersweet, tangled up with all the things that had changed, things you couldn’t undo.

As you walked back inside together, your nerves slowly steadied, but not entirely. The weight of what came next crashing around you—a shift from personal to professional that you weren’t sure you could make seamlessly.

The Sons were already moving toward the meeting room, a familiar rhythm as they filed in one by one. You hesitated for a moment as you approached the double wooden doors that separated the main hall from the room where so many decisions had been made. It was the heart of SAMCRO, a place where only full patch members were allowed, unless invited. As Jax walked ahead, he turned to you, his eyes locking with yours. An unspoken acknowledgment of that invitation passing between you.

You took a steady breath, following Jax’s lead as he gestured for the others to remove their electronic gear. Phones, watches, anything that could transmit or record was left behind on the counter by the door. A small but necessary security measure, one that reminded you just how serious things were.

Jax stepped aside, letting you enter first—a show of respect that didn’t go unnoticed. As you crossed the threshold, your pulse quickened, your thoughts rushing back to the task at hand—his defense, the case you needed to build. Yet despite your professional focus, you couldn’t shake the feeling that you were stepping into something far more personal.

The familiar room unfolded before you: a heavy wooden table at its center, surrounded by chairs reserved for the members. The walls were lined with SAMCRO memorabilia, chronicling the club’s long history. Every detail brought back memories of the countless times you’d been outside those doors, waiting, wondering what decisions were being made. Now, you were stepping inside, reentering the world you once fought so hard to leave behind.

The door clicked shut behind you, sealing you in with the weight of the past and the uncertainty of what was to come. Jax pulled out a chair, motioning for you to sit. You took it, keeping your focus on the task at hand, even as the memories swirled around you. You knew this was only the beginning, both in the case and in facing what the two of you had left unresolved.

As Jax moved to the head of the table, it hit you all over again—he wasn’t just a member of this club anymore. He was the club, its leader, its heart, and its future. The sight of him in that spot—the president’s chair—was jarring, a far cry from the man you once knew who had always been just a step behind the power, always questioning his place in it. Now, though, he settled into that chair like he’d been there forever, like it was made for him.

Seeing Jax there for the first time sent a wave of emotions through you, some you couldn’t even name. He exuded authority, a quiet, undeniable control over the room. The way the guys around him, men you’d known for years, deferred to him without question told you everything about how he commanded respect—something he’d always struggled with when Clay was in charge. But this Jax was different. He had the weight of leadership on his shoulders, and it suited him, in a way that made you ache with want.

There was no denying the way his presence filled the room, his hands resting on the table with that same quiet strength you’d seen so many times before. He didn’t need to speak to demand attention; the sheer force of his presence did that for him. The patches on his kutte—his Reaper, President, Redwood Original—seemed to glow under the low lighting, a reminder of all he’d earned, all he’d sacrificed to sit where he was now.

You swallowed hard, trying to focus, but seeing Jax in that seat brought up more than just memories. It aroused something deeper inside you, something visceral and complicated, something you felt like you wanted to explore.

This was his world now; one you weren’t sure you could navigate the same way. But as his eyes met yours across the table, there was a flicker of the Jax you’d always known, the one who would burn the world down to protect the people he loved. And at the center of that, was you.

No matter how much time had passed, how much had changed, you could feel it. The invisible thread that tied you to him, pulling tight in moments like this. You’d tried to sever it, tried to walk away from it—but here you were, sitting across from him, feeling every bit as connected as ever. Jax might command the club now, but in that brief, intense exchange of glances, you realized you still commanded a part of him too.

The meeting was intense but productive. You stood among the Sons, the weight of their stares heavy upon you as you recapped everything uncovered so far. Tension and anticipation filled the room as you detailed the rival MC you suspected might be involved in Jax’s case and the corruption within Charming.

As you spoke, your voice steady and confident, you felt the atmosphere shift. The men leaned in, their focus entirely on you, absorbing every word. Jax watched from his spot at the table, his expression a mix of admiration and intensity. There was something powerful in the way you controlled their attention, the confidence radiating off you. In that moment, you were no longer just a part of this world; you were a force within it, and he couldn’t help but feel a swell of pride for the woman standing before him, unflinching and resolute.

With determination, you laid out the plan. The club would work their angles, gathering intel the way they did. “But,” you said firmly, your tone leaving no room for debate, “you guys have to stay out of trouble. Jax’s freedom absolutely depends on it.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Weeks passed in a blur of pre-trial motions and legal preparation. You were constantly on the move—drafting briefs, reviewing discovery, and prepping witnesses for deposition. Every day felt like a strategic sprint, as you meticulously crafted arguments and counterarguments, anticipating the prosecution’s next move. Each court appearance was a balancing act, maintaining a sharp, composed professionalism—all while bearing the emotional weight that hung over everything. The late nights spent strategizing with Liz felt endless as she continued to uncover more leads, but the pressure mounted with each passing day.

Amid the whirlwind of legal battles, your connection with Jax grew deeper than you’d expected. Late nights over drinks became the norm—what started as case discussions often shifted to more personal conversations. You found yourself sharing pieces of your life beyond Charming, and Jax listened intently. The barriers you’d kept up for so long were starting to crack. Lingering looks, brief touches—each one drawing you closer. The tension between you was impossible to ignore, even if neither of you said it aloud. And quietly, you began to rely on him more than you ever thought you would.

As you and Jax grew closer, you struggled to keep your emotional defenses intact, fully aware of the dangerous game you were playing. Your heart was betraying your mind, and you understood the potential consequences. You had always been flexible with boundaries when the situation called for it—that’s what made you so damn good at your job. But getting involved with Jax beyond the attorney-client relationship felt like a line you couldn’t afford to cross. Every moment with him brought you closer to that boundary, and despite your reservations, the gravitational pull between you was undeniable.

The trial date had finally been set, but the initial relief quickly turned to dread when you learned about the judge—one notoriously known for his stance against offenders like Jax. His reputation sent a wave of unease through you. Renowned for being a stickler for the law, he rarely exhibited leniency toward defendants with ties to criminal organizations—alleged or otherwise, and you understood that this was a significant setback for Jax’s defense. It was clear that drastic action was needed.

As you prepared for the next hearing, the reality of the situation became increasingly daunting. The prosecution had seemingly stacked the deck against Jax, armed with an overwhelming trove of evidence that you knew was questionable at best. Witnesses had been lined up, all poised to testify against him, yet you sensed that many had been coerced or incentivized to provide testimony that would serve the state’s narrative. The prosecution’s strategy relied on the judge's reputation to sway the jury, and you felt the walls closing in around you.

In court, you stood confidently to argue for a change of venue, fully aware this was your last-ditch effort to tilt the scales of justice. Jax sat at the defense table behind you, his presence a steadying force as you gathered your thoughts. Despite the anxiety churning in your gut, you felt empowered, ready to make your case.

“Your Honor,” you began, your voice steady but laced with urgency, “given the high-profile nature of this case and the appointment of Judge Hartford—who has a well-documented history of issuing disproportionately severe rulings in cases of this nature—my client cannot be assured a fair trial in this jurisdiction. Furthermore, the prosecution’s evidence, while admitted, raises substantial concerns regarding its reliability. Key pieces of evidence rest on circumstantial foundations and are bolstered by questionable witness testimony, which has been accepted without the necessary scrutiny.”

You paused, gauging the judge's reaction as the courtroom remained silent. “This is not about deflecting responsibility, Your Honor, but about upholding the principle of impartial justice. Mr. Teller is entitled to a fair and unbiased trial, and the current circumstances of these proceedings threaten to undermine that right.”

The judge’s gaze hardened as he responded, his tone sharp and unyielding. “Counselor, while you present a well-prepared argument, your concerns do not rise to the level required for a change of venue. Your assertion that this court, or any court within this jurisdiction, is incapable of impartiality due to unrelated past cases is both unfounded and inappropriate. I will not tolerate further implications of bias. The trial will proceed here, as scheduled, and I expect you to adhere to the procedural standards of this court.”

The weight of disappointment crashed over you as the motion was denied. The trial would move forward under conditions that were not only unfavorable but also potentially unjust, given the prosecution's ability to present suspicious evidence without proper challenge. You knew that each piece of evidence they had, whether it stemmed from questionable chain-of-custody practices or testimonies that lacked verifiable credibility, posed a significant threat to your case.

Returning to Jax's side, you were left with the grim realization that navigating this battlefield required you not only to confront legal obstacles but also to expose potential ethical violations. The clock was ticking, and you needed to dismantle their narrative before the trial commenced, safeguarding not only Jax’s freedom but also the integrity of the legal system itself.

It was late afternoon when you finally emerged from the courthouse, frustration and exhaustion churning within you like a storm. The hearing had unfolded predictably, which was to say, not in your favor. You clenched your jaw, muttering under your breath about the judge’s dismissive demeanor and the uphill battle that lay ahead. Jax was waiting for you just outside, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed, his relaxed posture standing in stark contrast to your tight, wound-up demeanor.

As you approached, he sensed the tension radiating off you, an electric charge around you. His expression shifted from concern to mischief, a glint of playful defiance in his eyes. “You know, for such a pretty lady, you’ve got a seriously intimidating scowl going on there,” he teased, an easy smile spreading across his face.

You shot him a sharp glare, irritation bubbling to the surface. “Thanks for the insightful observation, Jax. I’m glad you’re here to help me manage my emotions.”

“I’m just saying, you might want to dial it down a bit before you scare someone.” He stepped closer, tilting his head slightly, amusement dancing in his eyes.

You rolled your eyes, annoyance deepening. “God, you’re annoying sometimes.”

His grin widened. “I’d forgotten how adorable you look when you’re this pissed off.”

You snorted at that. “Adorable?”  the word felt strange on your tongue, a jarring contrast to the storm of frustration brewing inside you. “I’m not trying to be adorable; I’m trying to do my job.”

“Hey, doing your job doesn’t mean you can’t have a little fun along the way,” he teased, stepping back with his hands raised in mock surrender. “I’m just looking out for you. Can’t have you getting all worked up like this, Pepper.”

His charm only fueled your frustration further. “I’m trying to keep everything from falling apart here, Jax. There’s a lot of pressure—”

“And you’re doing a fantastic job of it!” he exclaimed, his tone light yet sincere. “Look at you, holding it all together.” He paused, letting the moment linger. “But if you want a break from holding it all together, I’m here for that, too.”

Your lips twitched at the corners, and you fought to maintain your stern facade. “Are you trying to distract me from being angry right now?”

“Is it working?” he countered, a confident grin plastered across his face.

You let out a reluctant laugh, shaking your head as the frustration began to dissolve. You resolved, playfully lying, “No.”

Jax walked you to your car, his bike parked just a few spaces away. The tension hung between you like a heavy fog, unspoken thoughts swirling in the silence before he finally broke it, his expression shifting. His usual easy charm was tempered by something more serious, his brow furrowing slightly.

“Are things really that bad? How worried should I be after that?” he asked, his voice lower, almost cautious.

You noticed the concern on his face—his jaw tight, eyes searching yours for reassurance. It was rare to see him like this, letting his guard down enough to show he was unsettled. That weight sat heavy between you, and despite the deepening connection, you reminded yourself that it was your job to protect him, to keep him steady when things felt like they might tip over.

Sighing, you offered a small smile, forcing yourself to sound more certain than you felt. “It’s not ideal,” you admitted, “but I’ve handled worse. I wouldn’t lose sleep over it yet.”

Jax studied you for a moment, a flicker of relief crossing his face. “Good to hear,” he said, his voice softening.

You saw the tension in his shoulders ease, though you weren’t sure if it was because of your words or his faith in you. Either way, you resolved in that moment—to keep him from worrying, even if it meant keeping some of your own doubts to yourself.

“Hey,” he said, a familiar glint of mischief flickering in his eyes. “Your hotel isn’t far from here, is it?”

You frowned, caught off guard. “No, why?”

“Well,” he continued, leaning in a fraction closer, “how would you feel if I followed you back there? You could change and we can go for a ride on the bike. You know, like we used to.”

His suggestion lingered in the air, tempting yet charged with unspoken implications. Your heart raced at the thought, memories of past rides flooding back—the exhilarating rush of freedom and the undeniable chemistry between you. The idea was thrilling yet daunting, nostalgia mingling with the weight of your current reality.

You raised an eyebrow, trying to conceal your intrigue behind skepticism. “And you think a ride will magically fix everything?”

Jax shrugged, his grin unwavering. “Not fix everything, but it could help clear your head. It always did the trick before.”

You hesitated, your thoughts tangled in the mounting pressure from the trial and the stress that had built over the past weeks. “I don’t know, Jax. I have a lot to review tonight.”

“I understand,” he said, his tone softening. “But sometimes you need to step away from it all. Just one ride won’t hurt, right?”

As your eyes met, the noise of the world around you faded into the background. The thought of escaping, even for a little while, tugged at something in you. You could feel the tension in your chest loosening, if only slightly. The familiarity of being with Jax was hard to resist, especially with comforting memories of the past washing over you like a warm wave.

Your mind recalled that Saturday afternoon, so long ago, when he first convinced you to ride with him. Each ride after had only drawn you closer, igniting feelings you still didn’t fully understand to this day. The thrill of the road had always served as a backdrop for something much deeper between you.

Finally, you sighed, allowing your frustration to slip away. “Fine. But just a quick ride.”

“Awesome,” he said, barely containing his excitement as he moved back toward his bike. “I promise to get you back before the next crisis hits.”

A smile broke through your frustration, a flicker of joy emerging. Climbing into your car, you felt a mix of anticipation and lingering anxiety. As you drove, you glanced in the rearview mirror, watching Jax follow closely behind on his bike, a feeling of calm and safety washed over you.

When you reached your hotel, you parked and hurried inside, your heart racing not just from the thrill of the ride ahead but from the possibilities it held. After quickly changing into a t-shirt and jeans, you grabbed your jacket and stepped outside, the late evening sun casting a golden hue over everything.

Jax was waiting, his eyes lighting up as you emerged into the fading day. The way he looked at you sent a thrill coursing through your body.

You noticed the way his gaze roamed over you, his eyes tracing every detail as you moved with effortless confidence, dressed casually, more like the woman he knew all those years ago. The soft fabric of your shirt hugged your curves in all the right places, accentuating the changes that time had brought—subtle hints of maturity that only made you more intoxicating. He couldn’t help but admire how you carried yourself, a blend of poise and sensuality that sent a rush of heat coursing through him.

Every glance at you stirred something primal within him. Your smile lit up your face, and the glint in your eyes held a promise of mischief and tenderness. The way your hair fell perfectly around you, the subtle sway of your hips—it all drew him in. In that moment, you weren’t just a familiar face; you were a vision that awakened his deepest cravings, leaving him breathless with anticipation for what was to come.

“You look amazing, Pep,” he said, punctuating his words with a low whistle and an extra charming wink.

You rolled your eyes, but the heat of arousal spread through you at his compliment and the way his gaze devoured you. “Let’s just ride, Teller.”

“Yeah, let’s do that,” he replied, a hint of playfulness in his tone. Climbing onto the bike behind him, excitement surged through you, a heady mix of nerves and joy. You wrapped your arms around his waist, feeling the heat radiating from him, grounding you in a way that was both comforting and exhilarating. The smell of him was almost dizzying, an enticing blend of leather and spice, wrapped in the warm musk of his skin, it was utterly captivating. It all felt instinctual, as if you had never truly been apart.

As the bike surged forward, the hum of the engine vibrated beneath you, its power rolling through your body in waves. The sensation was addictive. You’d forgotten how freeing this felt—how the road opened ahead, inviting you into a world where nothing existed but the rush of air, the growl of the machine, and the strength of Jax’s body in front of you.

Your grip around his waist tightened instinctively, your hands resting against his toned frame, feeling the flex of muscle as he controlled the bike with effortless skill. The wind whipped through your hair, tugging at the strands, as you leaned into the turns, trusting him completely. With every curve of the road, you were reminded of just how alive you felt on the back of his bike, a feeling you hadn’t allowed yourself to experience in years.

The exhilaration flooded your senses, making your pulse race, your skin buzz. There was something thrilling about the speed, the raw power beneath you—and about being this connected to him again. Your body molded against his in a way that felt too natural, too right. You had forgotten how good this was, how good he felt. The familiar heat that always simmered between you both seemed to flare to life like a spark catching fire.

Each time his hand drifted back to yours to give a reassuring squeeze, it sent a jolt through your chest, a shock that had nothing to do with the bike and everything to do with the man in front of you. The scent of leather and Jax enveloping around you—a reminder of what you’d once had, what you’d always been drawn to. His strength, his recklessness, his loyalty.

The road stretched out ahead, but all you could focus on was him—his presence, his warmth, the pull of gravity that seemed to bring you closer with every mile. There was a tension building, a storm brewing in the spaces between you, and it wasn’t just about the ride. It was about him—the way he made you feel alive, dangerous, wanted.

And as the miles flew by, the line between the past and present blurred completely. Jax had always had this effect on you, waking something wild and unrestrained. The longer you stayed on that bike, the more you realized that no matter how much you had tried to distance yourself from him, from this, the connection was still there—burning hotter and brighter than ever. And you weren’t sure you wanted to fight it anymore.

As he parked the bike and cut the engine, the world around you faded into a distant hum, the adrenaline from the ride coursing through your veins like molten lava. You climbed off, laughter bubbling up inside you as you pulled off the helmet, shaking your hair loose. The wind had turned it into a wild, tousled halo framing your face, and in that moment, you felt liberated from the weight of your worries.

Jax inched closer, his body radiating heat that contrasted with the cool evening air. His eyes roamed over you, a smirk playing on his lips, and then he closed the distance, brushing a few loose strands behind your ear with a lingering touch. The simple act sent a thrill racing through your body, his fingers lingered against your skin, an intense reminder of how easily you could lose yourself in him.

“You’ve got that wild look going on,” he said, his voice a low, sultry whisper, laced with playful mischief. “Like the rebellious girl I fell for when I was seventeen.”

Heat flooded your cheeks, a rush of desire surging within you at the memory of that time—free, untamed, and filled with reckless abandon. The way he looked at you now sparked a forgotten excitement, coaxing out a spirit you hadn’t tapped into in years.

“Sometimes I really miss her,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper, as if saying it aloud made it even more real. You felt a pang of nostalgia, remembering the thrill of those carefree days and the adventurous essence that had once defined you.

Jax’s body pressed against yours in a way that sent sparks flying. He leaned in, his gaze locked onto yours, smoldering with an intensity that made your heart race. The air around you thickened with anticipation, that irresistible force drawing you together, the world around you fading away.

“Just so you know,” he murmured, his breath mingling with yours, heavy with longing, “I’ve always thought you looked hotter with a little chaos in your hair.”

The tension hung thick, saturated with desire. As you tilted your head back, your breath quickened, every nerve in your body alight with need. Just as his lips hovered dangerously close to yours, your phone buzzed violently against your thigh, shattering the moment like glass. You instinctively pulled away, breathless and disoriented.

You fumbled for your phone, your heart pounding in your chest as you glanced at the screen. Liz’s name flashed, accompanied by an urgent message:

“The prosecution just entered new evidence. We need to discuss our strategy ASAP.”

The weight of her text crashed down on you, extinguishing the fire that had been lit between you and Jax. You felt the immediate shift in your mood, the walls you’d been trying to keep at bay rising once more as reality flooded back in, cold and harsh.

“Everything okay?” Jax asked, his tone shifting from playful to concerned, the light in his eyes dimming slightly as he took a step back.

“Yeah, just… work,” you replied, forcing a smile. “Looks like we’re going to have a long night.”

A shadow of disappointment crossing his features. “Guess the joyride is over then,” he said, trying to keep his tone light, but you could sense the frustration in his posture.

You felt a pang of regret for what had almost happened between you, a moment that could have shifted everything. The chemistry that hung in the air was thick, the desire still radiating through you both, but the reminder of your responsibilities loomed large.

“Jax, I—” you began, but the words faltered on your lips. You felt the weight of responsibility, reminding you to keep your focus on the case, but the yearning in his gaze held you captive, making it nearly impossible to look away.

“Handle it,” he replied, his voice steady yet laced with an undertone of something softer—an understanding tinged with disappointment. “I’ll be here when you’re ready for another ride, Pep.” His hand brushed against your cheek, leaving a trail of heat that lingered softly. The gentle caress sparked a rush of emotions within you, evoking the depth of the connection you shared.

His words carried a double meaning that made your stomach flip-flop. You turned away, feeling the heaviness in your chest swell. The exhilaration of the ride and the tantalizing near-kiss lingered, but now they felt like fading echoes, drowned out by the harsh reality of the battle looming ahead. The bond you shared with Jax was enthralling, yet the stakes of his defense demanded your undivided attention, pulling you back into the relentless world of law where every decision carried the weight of consequences.

You took a deep breath, forcing yourself to focus on the task at hand. The unresolved tension of what had just occurred lingered in the air, heavy with potential and yearning for a resolution.

[neptuneiris]

could you pretend to be in love? (03/10)

The Complicity

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

summary: the time has finally come and you together with Aemond pretend the relationship taking into account the aspects of the previous contract.

word count: 7.1k

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God, I had so much fun writing this and absolutely loved it. hope you enjoy it too, I loved it and will look forward to your opinions. there is still much more to come, so look forward for it🤭

thank you for reading and enjoy!❤

It takes no time at all to see Aemond's car pull up in front of your house.

Pursing your lips and you already feel the nerves tensing your body. You adjust the strap of your backpack on your shoulder and say goodbye to your father, then leave your house and head towards the car.

Aemond has already rolled down the passenger seat window and keeps a small grin on his lips as he watches you, but you deliberately ignore him and especially that grin on his face.

But what you don't ignore is his car. It's too modern and expensive, exactly what you would expect from him. Besides it's his style, black and extremely clean. And when you get in and settle into the seat, the interior smells like him, rich, masculine and nice.

"Hey," you say to him, as you close the door and fasten your seat belt.

"Hey," he returns your greeting, watching you intently, "How are you?"

You frown, slightly confused by his question.

"I'm good," you say nonchalantly, "You?"

"All good, yes," he nods, letting his hand rest on the steering wheel. Then he watches you carefully, now with some hesitation, "Are you ready?"

"Hmm... yeah, I guess," you reply, nervous and hesitant, trying to appear normal, as you absently place your backpack on your lap, "Just..." you watch him pleadingly, reminding him, "When you're going to do something, you know... in front of everyone, let me know."

He puts back his soft smile, starting the car.

"Yes, ma'am."

The car starts up, an awkward silence developing in the air, where at first you both look for something to say to break the silence, but eventually you become immersed in your own thoughts.

And you at all times try to control your nerves and prepare yourself more mentally for everything that is coming today... and also for the next almost five months.

The music on the radio eases that slight tension between the two of you but when you least expect it, Aemond arrives and parks in the school parking lot, which is flooding with students.

"Thanks for the ride," you say, unbuckling your belt and he gives you a soft look.

"It's nothing, don't worry," he replies calmly.

You exhale deeply, peering through the windows of his car at the students outside, immersed in their groups of friends or their own worlds. But you know that soon enough all the attention will fall on you and him, so you continue to fight it, the nerves.

"So..." you return your gaze to him, attentive, "What exactly are we going to do now?"

"We just have to walk to the building together," he points to you as if it's the simplest thing in the world, which it is, but now you're both a 'couple', "We'll hold hands, I can walk you to your locker, we'll play a little, and then we'll head to our classes. Nothing more."

As simple as it sounds in his words, the prospect of performing as a couple in public makes you feel a mixture of nerves and anxiety. But you don't really have a choice so you just nod and go back to watching everyone out there one last time.

When you suddenly feel his warm hand place on top of yours, an unexpected gesture that surprises you and makes you focus on him again.

"Hey, I'm with you, okay?" he says softly, "You're not alone. And I promise you that everything will be fine, nothing bad is going to happen," he assures you, "You just need to relax, let yourself go and follow my lead. That way it will be easier, I assure you."

He tells you as his gaze conveys a sense of trust and understanding, wanting to reassure you in the midst of your nerves, reassuring you that everything will be okay, supporting you.

And even though you still feel a little nervous, with the assurance he conveys in every thing he says and every gesture, you decide to trust his words, managing to comfort you just enough.

Then he gives you a few more seconds, understanding that you should feel completely calm and finally you put the strap of your backpack on your shoulder, deciding that you want to get started and also get this over with once and for all.

"Ready?" he asks you with his reassuring look.

You nod, taking a deep breath to calm your nerves.

"Yeah, I'm good."

He nods too and finally you both get out of the car. And as soon as the two of you step foot outside, a few glances land on you and Aemond.

You wait for him to circle the car and once at your side, without hesitation your fingers intertwine with his, where as you watch his face, you find that assurance he seeks to convey to you, assuring you that everything will be okay.

And together, you begin to walk towards the main school building.

Aemond's presence at your side offers you comfort as you see hoy everyone looks at you, looks of surprise and curiosity, all watching you both attentively.

And at the same time you see how among the same groups of boys and girls talk to each other, seeming to wonder about seeing the two of you together.

At this, as you advance, you swallow hard and try to control your nervous look and keep your composure, also the slight fear you feel inside you and your heart that beats strongly, aware that every step you take is closely followed by the looks of everyone.

And as you feel the slight squeeze Aemond gives your hand with his, he gives you that small comfort amidst all the stares and emotions that invade you and you internally thank him for his gesture.

So you decide to concentrate on the comforting touch of his hand intertwined with yours, reminding you that you are not alone and you follow his lead, remembering his words from the beginning.

He, in comparison to you, seems serene and confident in all of this.

And despite the discomfort you felt with him at first and wanting to run away from him, now his presence begins to be comforting and you feel that you will panic if he leaves your side now.

And with every step you both take, you seem to attract more stares, as if you are a magnet for attention. There seems to be no end to the amount of curious stares on both of you, and that feeling increases more as you both walk deeper into the bustling hallways of the school.

You just hear the constant buzz of conversations and the attention focused on both of you becomes even more apparent. But regardless, you follow Aemond's lead, letting him guide you through all this overwhelming attention.

Eventually you both reach your locker and he stays by your side, as you begin to grab the books you will need today and people continue to watch you.

"It's a good start," Aemond says next to you, leaning toward you just so you can hear him.

"Only if you like the attention," you mention.

"Please, it's not so bad either," he says and leans closer to you, where with delicate gesture he tucks a lock of your hair behind your ear, watching you intently, beginning to act on the plan.

His movement catches you a little off guard, but you play along. You lean your body towards him, trying to keep a relaxed face and put a discreet smile.

"The whole school is watching us."

"Exactly what we wanted or not?" he says to then drop a kiss on your forehead that also takes you by surprise but you continue to skillfully feign, "And you're doing great."

A real genuine smile settles on your lips and you continue to organize your backpack as Aemond takes one of your hands and begins to trace it with his fingertips, then absentmindedly and also discreetly observes around him.

It is true that everyone is watching you both, but what catches his attention is seeing his ex-girlfriend, Alys, in this same hallway with her group of friends also watching.

You can't read much of his gaze, as he focuses back on you, especially when you finally close your locker door and give him your full attention, as he places a small smile on his lips.

He pulls you into his body as he leans against the back lockers, hugging you and placing you between his legs, and you let him, as obviously everyone is watching you at that moment.

"I'm going to kiss you now, okay?"

He whispers into your face and you open your mouth to speak, instantly lifting your face up to him to watch him, but when you least expect it, he is already kissing you.

You stifle a slight gasp in the middle of the kiss, feeling one of Aemond's hands gently caress your cheek and the other he keeps it on your waist, pulling you closer to him in a gentle way, as he presses his lips against yours gently and carefully, almost adoringly.

His lips feel soft and warm, so you kiss him back as best you can, closing your eyes and letting your hands rest on his chest.

Thankfully there's no movement and it's just pressing lips against lips, but the kiss is prolonged, Aemond more than anything else wanting to make sure everyone sees.

And when you both pull apart, he keeps his smile and his hands on your body as you try to disguise the surprise and daze.

"I'll see you at break," he says, letting go of your body slowly.

"Sure," you nod and smile, aware that more people are watching.

"Everything will be fine and if anything happens, text me," he tells you softly before separating you from his body and you nod again, feeling grateful again.

He leaves one last kiss on your forehead before he walks away, giving you one last comforting look. You watch as he walks away down the hallway, heading to his first class, just as the bell rings throughout the school.

So now feeling all eyes on you, you too quickly head towards your first class too.

And from that moment on, everything explodes.

The only topic of conversation going around the school is how the hottest and most popular guy in the whole school, Aemond Targaryen, is dating you, a girl not entirely... known.

You also hear how he and Alys' breakup is briefly mentioned, they also talk about how she cheated on him and that's when you come in... you and this unexpected news of the two of you dating.

It's clear that no one was expecting it, so there are a lot of questions as well. And eventually, the questioning begins.

"Y/N?" asks Aegon, confused, watching his younger brother intently, "And who is Y/N? I've never heard of her."

"Aegon, that doesn't matter," interjects Helaena, watching him grimly.

"She's my girlfriend," Aemond declares with a firm tone as he puts away some books in his locker.

"What matters is why you never told us anything... until now that the whole school knows too," Helaena says, confused, "We didn't even know you were interested in anyone after—

"That crazy of Alys," Aegon interrupts, not even bothering to lower the tone of his voice, also looking at Aemond with confusion.

Aemond looks up from his locker, noting back the questioning looks from his brother and sister.

"The thing with Alys is over," he says nonchalantly, "We both ended badly, she got satisfaction from it, I moved on and now I met someone new, what's wrong with that?"

Helaena exchanges a glance with Aegon and crosses her arms over her chest.

"No Aem, there's nothing wrong with it," she clarifies to him in a soft tone, "But at least you could have told us before the whole school found out."

"Yeah," Aegon says beside her, supporting her in her words, "And you never mentioned her," he says still with his confused face and tone, "Why?"

Aemond exhales deeply, feeling the pressure of they stares and questions, trying to keep his face composed.

"I've known her for a while."

He begins to say, clearly lying but trying to hear himself sound as convincing as possible, understanding that he must later tell Y/N about this if they and anyone else ask her the same question.

"She's in almost all the same classes as me. We did some projects together, started talking, hanging out a few times and well... things happened really fast. Even I didn't expect it, neither did she and it just happened, you know?"

Aegon watches him curiously, while Helaena examines him with full attention.

"And mom knows?"

"No, she doesn't," he says instantly, attentive and alert, "And listen, please don't tell her anything yet."

"Why not?" Aegon says confused, "She is your girlfriend and she should know her, no?"

"Yes, but we've just started dating and I want to give her a little more time until she's ready," he says in a soft, almost pleading tone, watching them both carefully, "I don't want to rush things more than they've already been rushed, so please.... let me tell mom when I've talked to Y/N."

Both are silent for a few seconds, where again the two exchange glances, and then Aegon nods in his direction with a more disinterested and more typical Aegon look. And Helaena, after analyzing his words, nods as well.

"Fine but be sure to tell her soon. You know how mom is with this sort of thing and if you let too much time pass, she'll be upset with you."

"Yes, I will, I promise."

Again silence engulfs the three of them and after a few seconds, Aegon breaks the silence with a smile.

"Well, now I want to meet my little brother's new girlfriend."

"Me too," nods Helaena, "Even without knowing her I already like her better than the witch."

Aegon lets out a laugh and Aemond just rolls his eye with an amused look.

"I'll try to talk to her if I see her," Helaena adds.

Shit.

Aemond thinks instantly.

"Fine but don't ask her too many questions, don't harass her and I'll find out if you tell her about my embarrassing stories," he warns her, "Same goes for you," he points to Aegon as well.

"Easy," he tells him confused, raising his hands in surrender, "I just want to meet my sister-in-law."

"Yes but watch that mouth," he warns him once more, "I'll see you later."

He closes his locker, the three of them say goodbye and he heads off to his next class, leaving behind his siblings and the growing curiosity that hasn't stopped from the other students in the hallway.

Certainly the news of his new relationship spreads quickly throughout the school, creating a buzz of gossip among all the hallways, because when he met with his friends, they too question him about the unexpected news.

The same goes for you, that even though you have no friends, or at least not close ones, when you are in the library, someone unexpectedly question you about your... 'boyfriend'.

"So...

A voice begins to speak in your direction and you look up, meeting Alysanne Blackwood, a classmate just as introverted and quiet as you, sitting at the other end of the huge table you're sitting at.

"Who knew you liked rich, popular boys," she says with a small smile.

"Oh... hi Alysanne," you say, putting a small smile, discreetly ignoring her comment.

That doesn't stop her, however, as she rises from her seat and takes her place in front of you, completely commanding your attention with her energetic presence.

"The truth is, I never imagined seeing you with someone like Aemond, "she says, evidently trying to start a conversation on the subject, "I never even saw you two talking together before."

And there you start to feel the knot of nerves in your stomach as you try to find the right words to explain the unexpected situation.

"The truth is, it was all very... discreet and... unexpected," you say, starting to think fast to come up with something convincing.

"And I bet Alys freaked out," she say with an amused smile, "God, I would have paid to see her face. She obviously wouldn't expect to see her ex with you."

You cocked your head to the side, watching her with curiosity and some confusion.

"Don't get me wrong, it's obvious that you and I are similar but a different type of girls like Alys," she explains, "So of course she must have been furious."

"Oh, um... I really don't know," you reply with a shrug. "I didn't notice if she saw us when the whole school did."

"Oh believe me," she says without wiping off her smile, "She did see you and she's furious," she assures you, "And that's okay because she deserves it. I can't stand her and I can't stand her stupid group of pretty girls who don't have a single neuron in their brains."

Alysanne, with her playful smile, seems to enjoy the awkwardness you find yourself in, so she leans a little closer to you, as if sharing a secret.

"Anyway, how do you feel about it? With Aemond, I mean," she asks, changing the tone of the conversation.

"Oh, well... he's different, I guess," you admit, searching for the right words, "I didn't know him much before this, but he's kind, funny, and.... yeah, different."

God, this is harder than I thought.

Talking about Aemond in this way is not entirely untrue, as he is nice and a little funny, but only a little. But still, you don't really know him and you think that's what you both need, to get to know each other better.

And that way, maybe this won't cost you too much.

"Well, at least you're not hating it. Although, truth be told, I think it's refreshing to see you dating someone outside of your comfort zone. And I'm also saying this from my own experience, it's... rewarding."

You watch her more interested than before, a little surprised.

"You have a boyfriend now?"

"Nah, it's been a while since we broke up," he says with a disinterested gesture, "But that's what he left me with and I hope you enjoy it, just don't be afraid."

She tells you and that particularly gets your attention more.

"And by the way, if you need advice on how to deal with girls like Alys, you know where to find me," she adds with a soft laugh.

Despite the strange situation and the fact that your talking about your 'relationship', when it's not even real, her words make you feel something and you realize that the conversation with her has become more enjoyable.

And you also realize that maybe you are not so alone in this unexpected moment of your school life.

So classes go by normally, you don't really see Aemond much, except in the hallways and when lunchtime comes, you take a seat alone at one of the cafeteria tables and turn your back on all the piercing stares.

"Hey, babe."

You raise your gaze and Aemond has a radiant smile on his face, turning animatedly toward you.

You place your best smile towards him, especially since there are still many pairs of eyes watching you, especially the eyes of Alys and her entire group of friends, who haven't stopped watching you as if they were going to kill you with their gaze since you arrived.

Aemond leaves a soft kiss on your forehead and takes a seat next to you, creating a space of privacy between the two of you, making sure no one else hears what he will say.

"How have you been?" you ask him, popping a strawberry into your mouth.

"Great. Everything is going perfectly, everyone is believing us and I hear Alys is furious and dead jealous," he says, with his little smile, "I've played her same game and now she knows how it feels. And the next few weeks will only get even better."

"As long as you keep me out of it, it's fine," you decide to joke, focusing on your food.

And when he answers your silence, you look back at him and he's watching you with a seriousness that isn't quite true. You let out a small laugh and he taps his shoulder lightly with yours, smiling.

"What are you talking about?" he asks you playfully, "Of course you'll be in for it."

You both share a brief complicit chuckle and he takes a strawberry from your bowl and savors it with a satisfied expression, then gives you a playful look.

"I'm actually enjoying this more than I thought I would. We seem to have caused a little of a commotion here," he says, averting his gaze to the bustle of the cafeteria.

"A little commotion?" you repeat, incredulous, "I think more like a big commotion, Aemond."

"Oh, and also..." he begins to say, more serious and in a lower tone, leaning towards you, "Aegon and Hel have already asked me some questions," he says, catching your full attention, "So if they try to talk to you, just say that we met and started talking in class. Also, that everything between us happened very fast and we decided to be discreet, nothing more."

And even though it's nothing difficult or anything out of this world, you can't help but feel a little overwhelmed by the sudden complexity of the situation. You also can't help the nerves in you.

Being part of all these lies and still having to create more lies, that's what makes you uneasy and you feel that in the moment you will ruin everything. And Aemond seems to read your thoughts, noticing your slightly worried expression.

"I know that they can be a bit nosy, I know that and I'm sorry. But it would have been too risky to tell them the truth and—

"No, no, it's not that, Aemond," you interrupt him instantly, "I just feel nervous and a little... scared," you confess, "I feel like I'll ruin everything if your sister or brother talk to me, because of the nerves, but I'm sure I can handle it."

"Yes, of course," he nods, nonchalant and speaking to you in a soft tone, taking one of your hands to entwine with his, "Just... if they ask you something specific, wing it, but keep the story general. I know you'll be able to do it."

You nod in his direction, his soft, comforting gaze making you feel better and more capable of being able to handle this. When you remember an also very important point.

"And you asked them not to say anything to your family?"

"Oh yeah, that too, yeah," he nods, "Don't worry, it wasn't hard. So we're good with that."

"Good," you say relieved.

You don't let go of his hand and go back to focusing on your food, while he stands next to you and watches you silently, saying absolutely nothing, watching you with a soft, calm gaze and trying to transmit that love just by watching you.

And his gaze on you while you eat starts to make you feel uneasy, so you watch him and put on a small nervous smile, not understanding the way he is looking at you.

Actually you do know but just like him, you have to play.

"What?"

Aemond lifts both corners of his lips a little higher.

"Everyone is looking at us," he says expectantly, in a low, soft voice, glancing around for a second to refocus on you.

And you roll your eyes playfully.

"I told you not to abuse that."

"But you said at extremely necessary times and right now seems like an extremely necessary time to me... love."

And there it is again, those nicknames that make you feel weird and Aemond enjoys watching you shiver at those words, smiling playfully.

"And I think it's only fair that now you're the one kissing me."

"You know, I'm already regretting this."

"I'm waiting," he says expectantly, never taking his eyes off you attentively for a second.

And you roll your eyes again and then lean into him with no choice and leave a soft kiss on his lips, in front of everyone, which he reciprocates instantly, only increasing his smile even more when you pull away from him.

"Thank you, love."

"Please," you look at him pleadingly, "Stop saying that."

He lets out a small laugh.

"Whatever you say, love."

You stare at him for a second and then he goes back to stealing one of your strawberries.

"By the way, wouldn't you rather go to lunch with my friends?" he points to the table of his friends who also belong to the lacrosse team, "They've also asked me about us. And I think having lunch with them, will make it all more believable."

You let out a long breath.

"It doesn't have to be now," he hasten to say.

"No, no, it's fine," you assure him, "I think it will make the relationship more believable too."

"Okay, but we have to stay here, at least for this day," he says, enjoying all the attention and you don't fight it, "Oh, and before I forget this, I have a match on Friday."

Oh no.

So soon?

You can't help but think, watching him completely intently.

"Really?" you ask starting to feel nervous and you don't even know why.

"Yeah, obviously you have to go and support me, shout my name, some cheers and all that," he says visibly excited, "The whole school is attending, so Alys will be there too," he says quietly.

"You also want me to wear a T-shirt with your last name on it and carry signs with your name on it like in the movies?"

He lets out a laugh.

"I'd actually love to see that," he says more excited than before.

"Aemond, I-I really don't know how to act at that kind of thing. I don't even know if I'll do it right...and if it looks too forced?"

And then there he again takes advantage of everyone watching you to place his hand over yours.

"Listen, there's no right or wrong way to do it. Just be yourself. There are no exaggerated expectations and it's not about impressing anyone, least of all me. I just want you to be there and let's have a good time together. Also at the party."

"Wait, what?" you inquire, "There's going to be a party after the game?"

"Hmm," he nods, "At my friend's house, you know...for celebration when we win."

"And if you don't win?"

"Even so, the party will be held," he says with a shrug, "A way to lift our spirits and better prepare us for the next game."

Of course, typical.

"And if I don't go to the party?" you try to persuade him with a worried expression.

"Y/N," he tells you with a serious look, "Remember our contract?"

"You're seriously bringing that to this?" you reproach him.

"Yes because it's in the contract," he tells you with a playful look, making it clear that he won't let you get off that easy.

And you sigh with resignation.

"But I don't think—

"Come on, Y/N. It'll be fun," he tries to encourage you, "And if at any point you feel uncomfortable, I promise we'll leave. What do you say? Sounds good?"

And even with the discomfort through your body, you nod, since you know there's no way around it.

"Fine," you murmur.

Aemond nods with a small smile.

"I'm sure it'll be fun, you'll see."

The rest of the week is spent with the stares and whispers intensifying whenever you and Aemond are seen together in the hallways or anywhere in the school.

Even the stares are not discreet, boys and girls stop in their conversations to stare at you as you walk by and when you move on to your respective classes, the attention seems to follow you, also in the cafeteria, when you and Aemond enjoy your lunches together, everyone stares at you.

It becomes annoying and also overwhelming for you, as you not only deal with the stares of all the students, but you especially deal with the stares of Alys Rivers and that of all her friends.

They are like hawks looking to melt the back of your head with every death stare. You feel like you're the prey and you don't doubt that they must surely say horrible things about you.

But honestly, Aemond has somehow helped you endure it.

In the cafeteria you are not alone, as you follow his idea of sitting at the table with him and his friends, who turn out to be very nice and funny, so their occurrences make you feel more comfortable during the whole break and lunch, forgetting for a moment about the stares and whispers.

Also Aemond never takes his hands off you, wanting to hug you and hold your hand all the time, wanting to make the relationship look as genuine as possible, this also distracting you.

And in those moments you just realize how you really hate being the center of attention, especially since the school seems to be watching your every move.

And you and Aemond couldn't agree more on the huge commotion you both have caused.

When the weekend finally arrives just as quickly as the day the match will take place, where you immediately decide to ask Alysanne for help getting ready, since you don't have a clue how to do it and make it look good.

Your dad is still at work, so you and Alysanne in your room make as much noise as you want, while she picks out your makeup and you put on some black jeans and the dark blue with white team shirt you borrowed from Aemond with his last name and player number printed on it.

And Alysanne, in her friendly and honest spirit, is excited to help.

"It looks great on you," she comments as she watches you adjust your shirt so it's not baggy, "Although I honestly don't understand why people like to attend these types of games. It's too boring for me."

"Yeah, for me too, but nothing I wouldn't do for Aemond," you mention like the girlfriend in love you supposedly are with him.

"Now come here."

You take a seat and she stands up, instantly helping you place Aemond's initials with blue paint on each of your cheeks, AT, while you finish touching up the rest of your makeup and also your hairstyle.

And when you're both done, Alysanne has something else for you.

"Now you're missing this," she announces, taking from her backpack something.

And when she holds it out to you, you confusedly take a cheerleader pom-pom.

"And what's this for?"

"What do you mean, what for? To support your boyfriend, obviously," she says incredulously, "I have one too," she announces proudly, taking another from her backpack.

"And where did you get them?" you ask inspecting it in your hand.

"I stole them from a girl who's on the cheerleading squad. I don't like her so I said, why not?"

You look at her still confused for a few moments, especially after that statement, but you decide not to give the matter any more thought and focus on what really matters, which in fact is already too much for your head.

So ready, you observe yourself in the mirror.

"I look like an idiot," you say as you look at yourself, "I've never done this before."

Alysanne laughs softly.

"Oh, dear, that's because you're an idiot in love. And also because it's the things love makes you do."

But you're not really in love with Aemond and that makes this whole thing even harder.

And that not being enough, she teaches you some pom-pom waving moves and suggests some simple cheers to cheer on the team and Aemond more than anything else. And even though you shouldn't, you can't help yourself and take a good few minutes practicing all that.

And finally you both leave your house in the direction of the school.

You've never been to one of these games before either, so when you and Alysanne arrive, the lacrosse field is full of energy and excitement as you both find seats in the stands.

The truth is you know absolutely nothing about how lacrosse works, it was never something you were interested in but if Aemond is now your 'boyfriend', you know you'll have to pay attention.

So in the meantime you do what everyone else does, like clapping and... nothing else.

"Girl, what are you doing? You're supposed to be cheering for your boyfriend!"

Alysanne yells at you above all the other yelling, shaking her own cheerleading pom-pom with the moves she taught you earlier.

"I know but I feel... embarrassed," you confess, "I've never done this. Besides... they haven't stopped staring at me since I got here."

"Who?" she asks you confused and attentive.

You point discreetly behind you and Alys along with her group of friends are a few seats over from where you stand with Alysanne, who snorts in amusement.

"Please, do they really intimidate you?"

"No," you lie a little, shrugging, "I just don't like that they're looking at me like they're going to kill me at every turn."

When you arrived they all inspected you from head to toe with questioning, mocking and expectant looks, which ended up destroying your confidence.

But Alysanne nudges you lightly and snorts derisively.

"Ignore them. They are not important. What's important is over there," she points her index finger at the lacrosse field, pointing at Aemond, "You're here to support him, not worry about poisonous snakes. So let's start yelling and supporting your boyfriend with the cheers I taught you, got it?"

You let out a sigh and finally nod with a resigned gesture.

You force yourself to concentrate as much as you can on the match, you also tell yourself that you're here to support Aemond and not to deal with the stares from his ex-girlfriend and her whole group of friends.

As well as you push away the idea in your mind that you feel weird and uncomfortable with that if you shout Aemond's name, everyone will notice and see you.

And you immerse yourself along with Alysanne and everyone else at the game in the charged atmosphere of anticipation and the screams of the crowd mingling with the air.

The whistle blows, marking the start of the match and Aemond and his team are in action as well as the opposing team, all moving nimbly around the field.

The game is fast and dynamic, you don't understand but you watch as Aemond stands out on the field, showing his skill. He and his team perform coordinated movements, well-executed strategies and impressive resistance against the opposing team.

And without paying any more attention to Alys gaze, you immerse yourself in the atmosphere of the game, clap and cheer along with Alysanne.

She encourages you to shout his name and that's what you do. You follow Aemond's every move intently, cheering with enthusiasm, jumping in place along with Alysanne, waving the stolen pom-pom along with her and shouting with fervor.

You feel more of Alys and her friends' gaze behind you, but you ignore it completely and concentrate on the game.

And as the game progresses, Aemond begins to notice your animated efforts from a distance. You can't see his face because of his protective helmet but he smiles when he sees you jumping, waving the pom-pom and shouting his name.

Your choice to wear his shirt with his last name and number, his initials painted on your cheeks, and the cheerleader pom-pom, all don't go unnoticed by him. He's honestly flattered and grateful that you actually did it.

And you and Alysanne keep cheering, both of you fully immersing yourselves in the intense and competitive atmosphere.

You don't know how much time passes until finally the referee blows the whistle. And since you don't understand lacrosse at all and had to pretend you knew what was going on, you just know they've won.

Thunderous applause and cheers break out in the crowd, and Aemond and his teammates celebrate on the field.

Alysanne gives you a friendly nudge as you both make your way to the corner of the field where the players are standing. And Aemond, instantly looking for you among all the people, when he finds you, with an expression of triumph trots over to you.

His gaze sweeps over you from head to toe, his smile engulfing you, as he removes his helmet and you smile and clap in his direction.

"You've won!" you exclaim happily.

He doesn't take off his smile and hugs you tightly, to which you reciprocate, trying to get that 'love' in front of everyone like in the movies of the couple of a boy captain of the team and the cheerleader girl.

You're not a cheerleader with a stolen pom-pom in hand but it's something like that.

"You look amazing," he says in your ear.

You let out a nervous laugh, as you both pull apart and Aemond, subtly seeing that everyone is watching you, keeps his hand on your waist, leans in and leaves a soft kiss on your lips, sealing the victory.

Obviously you can't blame him since everyone is watching and you place your hand on his cheek, reciprocating his kiss as everyone around you continues to celebrate in the stands and on the lacrosse field.

Once you both separate, you just notice more how everyone is watching you and you can't help but be a little embarrassed by this, feeling too many stares on you which in comparison, Aemond doesn't mind at all.

He tells you he's going to go change and talk to his coach, you nod, he leaves a soft kiss on your forehead and trots off back to the field with his teammates and you're left alone.

You hug yourself and look around briefly, then walk over to Alysanne, feeling a little overwhelmed.

And God, maybe this is costing you more than you imagined.

"You were fantastic, everyone was looking at us," Aemond says excitedly, driving, "And your outfit just made it all the more believable."

"Yeah," you let out a small laugh, "Alys and her whole group of friends kept judging me. But this just further confirms to us the fact that this is working."

He lets out a sigh.

"Alys has always been like that, she always has to judge someone to feel superior. She even did it with me during the time we were dating too."

He says with a disinterested tone and you look at him slightly surprised, not expecting to hear that.

"But if she makes you more uncomfortable to the point that you can't even stand it anymore, please tell me," he tells you more seriously, "She'll be at the party too and I don't plan to leave you alone but I'm telling you... you know, so you won't be surprised."

"I'm sure I can handle it, but yeah, I'll tell you," you tell him softly, nodding.

"Good," he nods too, not taking his eye off the road.

Right now he's driving to his friend's house where the party will be. You invited Alysanne and offered her to come along with you and Aemond, but she told you she's not a fan of parties and in fact she's had enough of the game.

So she ordered an Uber and went home. And you don't blame her. As much as you would have loved for her to have come to help you survive the party, she already helped you a lot before and after the game.

"So you understood the game?"

He asks you, summing up the game conversation, with a smirk. And you let out a snort with a mocking, incredulous look.

"No," you confess, "I don't really know anything about sports. I just know that on that play of yours in the second half it was awesome because everyone was talking about it," you let him know.

He lets out a laugh.

"Don't worry, I'll teach you."

"I just know you were great. I don't know exactly what you were great at but you were great," you say sincerely, "And I was great too, as much as I hate it, but did you see my animated cheer?"

"Yeah, it was amazing," he says just as honestly as you, only more enthusiastic, "But there was something missing from your whole outfit."

You frown.

"What?"

"The sign with my name on it like in the movies," he says and you snort again, as he laughs, "I would have loved to see that."

"One step at a time, Captain. It was already too much for me to fulfill my role as a cheerleader girlfriend supporting her boyfriend."

"I really enjoyed it," he says, watching you for a moment with complicity.

"As long as there aren't any more games so soon, I think I can handle it."

"And what about the parties?" he teases you.

"Let's correct the contract, because I think I'm only going to accompany you to one party per month. So that will be five parties total during the whole farse, but with this one that makes four."

"Oh yeah? Then I think I'm only going to drive you to school once a month, so that will be five rides total during the whole farse, but since three days have already passed where I've done you the favor, now you only have two left."

"That's not fair!"

"Oh I think it's more than fair."

You both sink into soft laughter and the conversation between the two during the ride is light, talking about the match and the farce more than anything else.

Until finally Aemond arrives in the neighborhood where his friend's house is located and soon enough he parks near the house, where from this distance you hear the music and also see other cars parking and boys along with girls walking down the street heading towards the party.

You let out a sigh as you anticipate all the people already inside the house and how the party must be, as you and Aemond unbuckle your seatbelts.

"Well, are you ready?" he watches you slightly expectantly and with a soft look.

"Promise you really won't leave me alone," you urge him once again, serious.

"I promise," he says honestly, making pinky promise with you, "But here we must be together and I mean really together. Pretend we're crazy about each other. Remember, in places like these, a couple never stops being all over each other, so we have to pretend and pretend real good."

You swallow hard and he gives you a reassuring look, while you take a few seconds and finally nod. You place a softer face and lightly bite the inside of your cheek.

"Yeah, okay, I get it," you say softly, licking your lips.

"I'm not going to leave you alone. I'm going to be with you always," he assures you one last time before getting out of the car.

And you let out a heavy sigh, you get out of the car as well.

The pretending isn't over yet and this time, you're sure you and Aemond are going to take it to the next level. And it's still a lot to process but reluctantly and because you signed a contract, you enter the party together with him.

taglist:

@melsunshine @at-a-rax-ia @jxdegodfrey @ttkttt @yentroucnagol @kate-to-the-ki @iamavailablesstuff @bluerskiees @urmomsgirlfriend1 @toodlesxcuddles @rosie-posie08 @iloveallmyboys @bellaisasleep @deliaseastar @cupcakesminicakescupcakes

[naughtystiel]

It wasn’t raining.

For some reason whenever Dean thought of this day, he imagined the sky to be covered with heavy dark clouds. Clearly this wasn’t the case. Instead, everything seemed so lively. Spring brought chirping birds, vividly coloured flowers began to bloom and the sun shone brightly high in the sky. The few people gathered around wore light jackets so it really had to be a beautiful day. He wished he could feel the warmth on his skin too.

A priest stood on the opposite end of the deep hole and Dean grimaced. He had never been a religious man and he wasn’t going to listen to anything that was coming out of the priest’s mouth now either. Meandering between people, he walked further away. Yeah, Lord have mercy and rest in peace o’wayward son.

So, where did he go from here?

“Hello.” Somebody said next to him, but Dean didn’t even bother to look. They weren’t talking to him anyway. They couldn’t be. With arms loosely crossed over his chest, he looked skywards. It was a beautiful day.

“Dean?”

Dean looked to the side, an eyebrow raised. A man in his thirties observed him, hands tucked in his dress pants. “How do you know my name? Do I know you?”

The man nodded his chin towards the priest, “Heard him mention a Dean, so I’m guessing that must be you. Nice suit.” He smiled and Dean looked down at his outfit. Suits weren’t exactly his thing, but he didn’t really think to make a will and they shoved him in this. Did they even bury people in plaids? Probably.

“That would be me, indeed.” Dean tilted his head to the side and scanned the graveyard. Interesting. “Are you dead too? I guess you gotta be.”

The man hummed, “Mmm, you could say so.”

Dean furrowed his eyebrows. Was that a yes or a no? “So, is it just you and me or is anybody else here with us?”

“Nah, they moved on.”

“And you?"

“In the process.”

“I see.”

They both stood in silence, watching the ceremony. A few roses got dropped into the hole. A nice gesture, but it was a waste of money. They could at least put it on top once the casket was actually covered with dirt.

Low rumble disrupted the quiet. “How are you feeling?”

Dean splayed his arms and shrugged. “I mean, I’m dead. I don’t really know.”

The man turned his head towards Dean. “Okay, lemme ask you this - what’s on your mind? Anything particular?”

Now that was a good question. Nothing. A lot. First thing that came to mind was that he wouldn’t be able to see that new Indiana Jones movie he was so looking forward to. But that was just stupid, wasn’t it? Shouldn’t he be thinking of his regrets? Unfinished business? “I wish I could feel the sun on my cheeks.”

“Ah, that I can agree with. The sunset kind. Not too sharp, soft like a gentle veil that droops over your face.” The man gave him a small smile and Dean nodded.

“You see that tall guy there? The tallest of them all. My brother. Last time I saw him we argued.” Dean sighed, his shoulders slumping. “I guess it kinda bothers me that this is how he’s gonna remember me now.”

“Probably not. Usually when a person dies you remember the good things. Unless of course the bad outweighed the good which I don’t think is the case here.” The man scuffed the tip of his polished shoe in the dirt. “Grieving is complicated, it messes with your head. I bet you heard about how it usually progresses but personally I think it’s more like jumping back and forth between the steps. It does pass though.”

“That supposed to make me feel better?”

The man shrugged, his dark lock tousled by gentle breeze. He kept his gaze down, chewing on his bottom lip. “Only stating the facts. Anything else bothering you?”

just a snippet of "the art of moving on" which i might work on more in the future. and if i do, it wont be very long but i think itd be worth exploring :)

[swaps55]

When does Anderson realise what's going on between Sam and Kaidan?

After the Normandy goes down he glimpses into Kaidan's grief. When Kaidan starts fighting his way back after that he gets to know him better. When does the other shoe drop? He knows Sam so well, shouldn't be taking him forever ..?

This is a FANTASTIC question, and one I have given a fair amount of thought. I'd claim "spoilers!" and keep the answer close to the chest, but it'll be a hot minute before I get to it, and who knows if anyone will still be reading by that point. XD

Still, I'll put it under a spoiler for anyone who doesn't want to know.

I initially asked myself the same question: why hasn't Anderson figured this out yet?

And here's the answer I came to: Anderson is not just grieving a soldier, he's grieving a son, and I imagine he feels very alone in that grief. Plenty of people knew Commander Shepard. Not many people knew Sam. In Kaidan, Anderson has found a rare person who understands his grief. That's a powerful thing. My guess is that he wouldn't take the time to ask why or examine it very deeply - all his emotional and mental energy is going towards burying and moving on for someone he loved like his own child.

When Sam comes back, I don't think it occurs to him to ask, "why do you care so much?" when "thank god you care as much as I do," is all that really matters.

So with that said, when does he figure it out?

Originally, my answer was: he doesn't. I was going to leave it at, "he never figures it out on his own, and Sam doesn't get the chance to tell him." It was going to be a huge regret for Sam that his father figure never knew he'd found someone.

But as I've gotten deeper into Opus and deeper into Mezzo, I'm no longer happy with that. It feels like pain for the sake of pain, rather than pain that's meaningful to the narrative or to the characters.

So toss that one in the garbage. So what does happen, then? Sam and Anderson don't have a whole lot of opportunity to interact before the reapers come. When Sam is in lockup, he's not exactly going to be chatty about his fraternization history. We've already walked through that he doesn't really clock it from Kaidan, because the role Kaidan plays in Anderson's own complicated feelings for Sam's death and resurrection give him a pretty big blind spot.

My working premise, then, is that Anderson does find out, but not because he figures it out.

It's because when Kaidan gets injured on the final push, Sam pulls his helmet off and lays one on him right in front of Anderson before they say goodbye, and Anderson has a bigger "oh" moment than either Sam or Kaidan ever had, lol.

I've written a snippet of the conversation Sam and Anderson might have about it in Anderson's final moments. It's less a snippet and more of some passing dialogue in my head that I scribbled down so I wouldn't forget it:

~

"Tell me about him. About...you and him."

"What about it?"

Anderson gestures with a weak hand. "Any of it. All of it. I...missed everything, and it was right under my nose."

"No," Shepard says softly. "You didn't. It just sort of...grew up around us. Like it never started and just always...was."

"Tell me."

At first Shepard is silent. Fear strikes Anderson's heart, but then he shifts, exhale coming out like a rattle. "Ever just...meet someone, and then turn around one day and realize there is nothing you wouldn't do, no bridge you wouldn't cross, no sin you wouldn't commit...for them."

A faltering smile touches Anderson's lips as he remembers the lost boy playing in the fountain, the kid who was determined to bend physics to his will, the man who laid in a hospital bed after turning the N7 test on its head and asked if he'd done enough.

"Yes. I have."

[turning-monday-blue]

Obsession

I'm not a complicated woman, I swear.

I'm so boring.

I'm quiet. I live alone. I drink decaf. I file my taxes in January. I majored in art history.

I crochet, goddammit! I crochet cardigans, the most boring kind of sweater! And then I wear them! Like Mister Rogers, aka the plainest person to ever exist.

No one could possibly suspect how deeply weird I am.

I've been perfect. I've never left a browser history. I've never worn blue and red together. I've kept myself as trim as my mom's genes let me. No one's ever caught me watching the movie.

You know... the movie?

You know the movie.

Well, I mean, I guess it's "movies" now, but... I know which one left a violet stain on my soul.

You can't blame me.

Well... you certainly can't, anyway.

If you were me, maxed out on good karma, toeing every line you've ever met, perfectly alone in all the universe... what would you have done differently? What other choice was there?

Never mind how I got the chance. As soon as I found out about it, there was nothing else I could do. Everything I thought I knew about myself fell away. All the safe choices and good behavior just gone, poof, like they never existed. This is my fate, it was made for me.

I was always going to be the one chewing this stick of gum.

In the end, it was like they wanted me to find it.

Dodging through an unlocked door, stealing through low-lit corridors, drawn to it like the heartbeat of the universe.

It's so silly. I know it is. Some stray neutrino passed through my brain as a child, and I watched the wrong movie, and I twisted into whatever it is that I am. All I've wanted is to become something else, and that something is big, and round, and draped in the shreds of the last clothes she'll ever wear.

That last part is really important for reasons I just can't explain. All that matters is that I literally get too big for my britches. I just need to hear that little "pop". That's it.

I can never seem to imagine past that. Regardless, I'm putting the gum to my lips, completely, defiantly unaware of how this will end. It's on my tongue, and the flavor is unreal. I guess they didn't bother with the roast beef or anything. It's just violently fruity. Juicy, and warm, and way too sweet.

A door creaks open. I was so sure I wouldn't be found, but joke's on them. It's too late.

It's a mousy woman woman with huge glasses, wearing a lab coat. She peeks around the door before she enters, like she doesn't want to offend me.

"Oh-" she says.

"Um," I say around a mouthful of juice. "I-"

And then I think, hey, wait, I've made my choice. It doesn't matter how this ends! What's she going to do, save me? I'm in control here! Kind of!

"... um." I say again. Actually, it's hard to talk. I'm swallowing a lot of juice.

She steps all the way into the room.

"Uh, hi," she says, fiddling with her glasses. She looks at me, and then down at her clipboard, and then back to me. "Are you-"

"I'm not spitting it out," I say, before gulping down another burst of juice. I'm starting to feel kinda bloated.

"No, I mean. Um," she says, "sorry, I'm new here, um."

I'm tired of my mouth working so hard, so I make a show of swallowing the gum.

"Oh!" she says, "that was fast," and she makes some sort of mark on her clipboard.

What.

"Um, could you follow me this way, please?" she asks, gesturing toward another door I hadn't noticed. One of those big ones like they have on loading docks that roll upward.

"What?" I ask, reflexively.

She walks over and pushes a big red button on the wall. The door starts lifting.

"Oh, sorry, we can wait if you want," she says, "you'll fit, don't worry."

I start to have a thought, but then my stomach gurgles and I feel like I'm on an elevator going down. I clutch my sides and double over, but... it's getting hard to bend.

"Don't worry," she says again, "it just feels weird, but you'll be okay."

The thought comes back. Someone was expecting this. They're prepared for this.

I look back at the pedestal the gum was resting on. It's already been replaced with another piece.

The worst feeling in the world is thinking you're making a defiant last stand, only to find out that the hill you chose to die on was ready-made for your dramatic exit, and that you'll be asked to leave through the gift shop and pay way too much for the photos they take of you. You know, figuratively.

I have to do something they won't see coming.

I turn around and lunge for the new piece of gum. Or, at least, I try to lunge, but my thighs are filling up and it's getting difficult to move dramatically. Still, I grab it and cram it in my mouth. Might as well be a brat.

"Oh!" she chirps again, and makes another mark on her clipboard. "Wow! So-"

God, I'm feeling so full. I can feel every inch of my clothes pulling taut against my skin. I gave in to temptation and wore a blue top, blue jeans, and a red belt. I couldn't help myself. Now, that belt is starting to dig in, trying to squeeze me in half.

I swallow the new gum, too, and look down at myself. I'm getting pretty big, bulging out around the belt. My shirt is riding up, exposing my swelling blue belly to the cool air. Out of the corner of my eye, I see her make another mark.

I try to touch my growing midsection, but it's getting hard to move my arms. They're filling up too. I feel warm all over now.

"You're blowing up so fast!" she says.

She opens her mouth to say something else, and that's when my belt snaps apart. My equator surges outward, jiggling and sloshing from the violent release.

It feels so, so strange, becoming something completely alien to what you use to be.

That said, it also feels amazing. Swelling bigger and bigger with gushing blueberry juice, bursting out of- wait.

I'm still growing, but besides the belt, everything's still on.

I try to look down again, but all I can see is the blue horizon of my belly. I flap my hands in frustration.

The lady speaks up again. "Since you're likely unable to move by yourself now, may I have your permission to roll you?"

"Um," I say, trying to think. I'm freaking out a little right now. "Uh."

I need this. It's all I've ever really needed. I just need need need to blow up and burst out of my clothes, that's it, and who cares what happens to the blueberry that used to be me.

All I need is to burst one little button and I'm done. I'll have won. Good day, miss.

The problems is, I'm perfectly round now, and my jeans are so, so tight but haven't so much as snapped a stray thread.

"Miss?" she says, "may I roll you away?"

I try to think of something to say, just to stall for a little more time. I'm so close, so so close.

Instead, I break down.

"Please," I beg her, "I'm going to lose my mind if I can't pop this button."

"Hey-" she starts, but I'm in a full-on panic right now.

"I have to, I have to, I don't know if I'll ever get another chance to be a blueberry, and like what if you roll me away and I never get juiced and I'm just stuck like this forever which would be hot but still or like what if this is as big as I can get and it's just impossible like what the fuck who even makes clothes that fit spherical women I knew I should have worn the red ones-"

"-but-"

"And I know what you're thinking! She broke the rules, it doesn't matter what she wants, she's just a blueberry now, blueberries don't want things, they're not even people! She had her chance and she blew it except she couldn't even blow it-"

"Miss! Please," she snaps, and she walks over, reaches up, and pinches my lips closed.

We lock eyes, because where else can I look, and for a moment, I just cry silent blue tears down my puffy cheeks, pouting all the while.

Then she smiles, and says, "I'm a trained professional, Miss. I can help you with that." She lets go, brushes her frizzy hair out of her eyes, and disappears behind me.

I feel her warm little hands on either side of me, like she's trying to give me a weird hug. Then I feel her squeeze into me. It feels startling, she must be way stronger than she looks. The pressure builds more and more, and I can hear her making an adorable little straining noise.

Then, there's a pop, and immediately a sense of relief. I hear a little zipping noise as the fly on my jeans explodes open. I gasp at the sensation.

Finally.

I give a little shudder, releasing the tension I hadn't realized was building the whole time. How Freudian of me, I guess. The oral stage ain't got nothing on this.

"Now then," she says, appearing in front of me again, smiling wider, making yet another mark. "May I please roll you away, Miss?"

[a-regular-amount-of-spiders]

Into the Night(wing) (18+)

Ch 2 (Ch1)

Ao3

Dick steeled himself when he heard you drop down onto the roof, hopping from the entrance, to the railing, to the cold cement top. He takes a deep breath, turning around. Your face is set in a teasing smile, as it so very often will be.

“Good evening pretty bird” You simper, walking towards him. He can’t tell if you heard him last night or not. He’s certainly not going to ask you about it. You pause at his expression, and he wonders what you see there for a moment. Whatever it is, it sobers you, and you explain your plan to him without any further preamble. He watches you set things up, tries not to cringe as your voice fills his ears through the com, because it is making him feel a lot more than he wants to at the moment. He hopes his mask and the darkness cover his flushed cheeks, but he cannot be certain. Really he’s just grateful you don’t get in his personal space and give him an opportunity to embarrass himself further. The gratefulness pales in comparison to the lingering guilt. Nothing goes wrong. He almost wishes it had because he swears you’re making those little sounds on purpose. Where he’s more accustomed to dead silence, or at the very least some sort of distraction, tonight all he can hear is your voice. He’s playing support, which means camping out nearby, ready to intervene if you get caught. A part of him wishes you would, so he could be fighting instead of listening to the small noises you’re making as you go about stealing. He can’t distract himself, so he ends up thinking of last night. He wonders if you really caught him. The guilt sits like thorns in his chest. You didn’t seem disgusted, but he figures you’d have every right to be. Dick shifts uncomfortably. Here you are stealing for him, which he can’t think about that too much, and all he can think about is how good you sound. What other sorts of noises he could elicit if given the opportunity. The shame makes him nauseated in equal measure, and he feels like an absolute bastard for thinking about you this way, for treating you the way he has.

Dick should have known, really, that overall the night was going far too well for him. Your joint plan went off without a hitch, no complications. However as he goes to leave, thanking you more tersely than was strictly necessary, a hand around his neck pulls him back against you. He swallows and barely manages not to yelp. He can feel your fingers like a brand as your hand rests just below his jaw and your chest presses into his back.

“Running off so soon, pretty bird? And here I thought you owed me a favor.” You say into his ear, and the low heat that had been simmering all night flares violently. He needs to leave, he really needs to get away from you because you’re so hard for him to resist. He’s just a man around you, and Nightwing should be better than that.

“You want to cash it in now?” He’s pleased that his voice is firm, and displeased as opposed to breathy.

“Maybe. I think we’re long overdue a talk, Nightwing. And you’re going to give that to me” There’s a tenison he’s never heard from you before. It takes him a minute to realize you’re angry. Furious, even. The realization is like an ice bath, dowsing his senses in a cold apprehension and he can only think of one cause for such a feeling. He pulls out of your grip, and is almost surprised how easily you let him. His hand goes to his own neck, a ghost of your touch.

“Talk? What about?” He quips with a smile and a confidence he doesn’t feel in the least. You scowl, it’s a strange expression on your face. He’s never really seen you visibly upset before, he realizes. You’re always so in control, and take everything in stride with a joke and a laugh.

“Don’t play dumb, it doesn’t suit you.” You press your lips into a thin line, distinctly unimpressed by his evasion. “What do you want from this?” You gesture between the two of you.

“I can’t understand it, one moment we’re fine and the next you turn cold.”

Dick hadn’t entirely been expecting that. “What…?” He asks, brow furrowed, did you really not hear him yesterday? Were you just angry over his repeatedly cold farewells? You sigh, long suffering, and then, you take off the mask over your eyes. He should have shut his own, should have looked away. He does neither of those things, and a depth of color stares back at him. He feels stuck, a painful knot in his chest. Your eyes are more expressive than he’d been ready for. Where he could hear the terseness in your voice, he could easily see the hurt in the line of your eyes. They turned a neutral expression into a vivid picture of hurt.

“Why would you do that?” He asks, voice thick with an emotion he really isn’t equipped to even identify let alone deal with. The trust you’re showing him now had been a fixation that lingered on the edges of his thought. He wanted it so badly and yet knows that it crosses a line he can’t redraw. A line Nightwing should never see the other side of. One he cannot let you cross in return. Even if he could accept you being a thief, he cannot in good conscience tell you his real name. It’s too short of a jump between his name, and the identities of his family. And he knows you’d make it far too quickly.

“You’re important to me, Nightwing. We were teasing each other, dancing around something that couldn’t happen. I had no intention of pushing you, when you so clearly feel that you cannot get close to me.” Your stare is piercing, and there is a certain kind of pain in every line of your face. “But you crossed a line, and now I need to know.” Your expression is a lance through his heart. His emotions are a cacophony from which he can hardly distinguish a suitable response. He works his jaw uselessly a few times, turning theoretical answers over in his mind.

“Need to know what?” He needs you to clarify, needs you to correct his misunderstanding so he isn’t given the chance to fall short of the expectations he has for himself. You approach him, so very, painfully close to him.

“Do you want something more? More than the chase, more than the banter and the eventual arrest or escape? Because if you don’t, then we need a lot more distance than we have right now.”

A panic rises at the idea of distance, that he might not be able to go out and find you. That he might lose the way you always seem to know what he needs. He realizes the selfishness of that panic in the same moment that he feels it. The entitlement of wanting your support, but never being clear in his own actions. However, “You’re a thief.” is his quiet, insufficient response.

“I am, but you know it’s not that simple. You’ve worked with worse, you're friends with worse.” You respond, stepping in even closer and he feels like he can’t breathe.

“That’s different. I’m not-” He doesn’t want to finish that statement, perhaps he doesn’t even know how it ends.

“Not what? Jerking off on the comms to your other morally gray friends?” Your eyes are narrowed, a low fury in your tone. He chokes on nothing, going pale, and did you have to say it like that? He can’t meet your eyes now.

“I- that’s not…” He inhales shakily “I didn’t mean to do that.” It’s a pathetic excuse, however true. Perhaps if the guilt wasn’t eating him alive the pressure you were putting on him would elicit something other than the dull pain radiating from his chest and the cotton feeling of his throat.

“But you did it. And now I need to know if you want me, or if I need to skip town. Because I can’t keep doing this.” You’re serious. And all he can think is if nothing else, that he doesn’t want you to leave.

“Don’t go. Please don’t go. I-” He’s lucky he’s well trained to keep his composure otherwise he’d never have been able to force the words out. “I want you, so badly. But feeling that way is a failure. You’re a criminal, but not bad enough for me to turn you away. But I have to, because if I let this keep going I don’t know if I’ll have it in me to stop you at all.” It’s more honest than he’d like. He feels raw and vulnerable, but also like he’s bleeding out a festering infection. A hollow, relieved feeling sitting in the wake of it. You don’t respond immediately, considering his words carefully at first.

“I see. I haven’t escalated before.” You say softly, and then you tell him your name. Your actual real name. He knew, because he’d figured it out some time ago. But this was different, this was you trusting him. “If I do, you don’t have to be the one to handle it. You just need to ask one of the hundred other heroes you know.” The words are delivered softly. Something in you searching for an answer he doesn’t understand yet.

“How can I stop you, if I let you in? How can I trust you?” He reaches up to your face, holding it in his hand for the first time.

“Oh, Nightwing. Life has been terribly unkind to you.” You take a deep breath “If you ask me to return something, I will. I can help you, like I did tonight. In all the years you’ve known me, have I ever lied to you? Have I ever crossed a line that you never would?”

It was his turn to consider your words. He leans his forehead against yours, hands grabbing at your shoulders. Dick realizes that he hasn’t been bothered by what you steal in a long time, you’d long since shifted to stealing from people he has no sympathy towards. There’s a small amount of shame, and the uncomfortable feeling of a worldview slowly changing at the thought of giving into this. There is fear and apprehension at the thought of letting you into his life, of all the ways you could devastate him. In contrast, the thought of you leaving is disturbing. Never seeing you again would be a hole in his heart, and it felt deeply wrong. It would be losing something he hadn’t realized felt so integral to his life until he struggled to picture one without you. He swallowed thickly, and wrapped his arms around you.

“I’m sorry” He apologizes. For everything, or for nothing, he cannot be sure. But something needs to loosen the tension. Something had to keep you here.

“It’s okay Dick. I understand it, it doesn’t make all of it okay, but I don’t begrudge you for it.” Your response comes with arms around his back and a bolt of bewildered realization. You said his name. Which you definitely shouldn’t know. He pulls back enough to stare at you, shocked.

“How the hell-” His mind races, gearing up for some sort of confrontation, but you grab his jaw firmly.

“I’ve known the whole time. I called your friend, remember? He used your name, and I was less inclined to respect privacy back then. Then I recognized your smile.” Your hands grab his biceps loosely, a grounding touch. The fact that you knew, you knew and had kept his secret for years even when he was cruel, even when he was beyond out of line makes him feel relieved, amazed, and a bit pissed. Trusting you felt so much easier, but he’d agonized over trusting you with his identity, with the risks of letting you get close for literally nothing at all.

“Why did you never tell me?” He wants to be more annoyed when you give him a mischievous grin, but all he feels is fondness.

“I didn’t want to freak you out. And as I said, I didn’t feel the need to break the status quo” Your hands drift to his hair, toying with the inky strands. “So, how about it pretty bird? Are you able to fly with a thief?”

And Dick, his whole world flipped on its head in the span of maybe 20 minutes, feeling vulnerable and exposed, and absolutely sick of talking, kisses you. Your hands tighten in his hair and he can’t help but keen as you bite his lip. He pulls you against him, feeling the line of your body like he did last night, but this time able to touch, this time not having to hide anything at all. The heat from earlier returns with a vengeance as you gasp into his mouth. You tug his hair sharply before he can deepen the kiss, to nip at his neck. His nerves light up, arms tightening around your waist. Suddenly he has to know-

“Last night, did you listen the whole time?” Your hands wander over the contours of his back, seeking and curious. More exploratory than he’d imagined.

“Didn’t you hear me talking, pretty bird?”

So that hadn’t been his imagination, good to know. Humiliating to know as well. A burning feeling sits just under his skin, sleek and invigorating. He’s glad that he planned to be home soon because if he had to spend another night of patrolling all worked up like this he may well have a heart attack.

“I h-heard you. I just, thought I was imagining things.” He admits, words feeling as though they don’t belong to him any longer. Somewhat in disbelief at his lack of perception. He feels your hand drift lower, settling on his hips with a squeeze that sends a shiver up his spine.

“You were that desperate? And here I thought you were saying such filthy things to get a reaction out of me. Did I get excited for nothing?” Your hands stay where they are, lips ghosting over his. Still, and he knows you won’t yield, won’t do a damn thing until he asks you to. The explicit concern for consent makes him heady, and he feels all the more fond of you for it.

“No. You didn’t. I want- I want to know what you were thinking.” And doing, and that thought makes his outfit more uncomfortably tight. He really needs to get home. Bring you home with him-

You grab his ass and use your weight to shove him back into the wall, picking him up and squeezing. He yelps as you bite his bottom lip, before licking into his mouth and rolling your hips against him in a way that provides no relief thanks to the padding of the suit. You bite down his neck again, most assuredly leaving marks in your wake. And then you’re gone, dropping him and leaving him panting against the wall on unsteady feet, aching for you.

“Try to keep up, pretty bird.” You smirk, crooking your finger at him and hopping up on the railing. A flash of frustration makes him want to tear his hair out and scream, but that’s overtaken quickly by adrenaline as you bolt off, him hot on your heels. You’re not trying to get away from him, but you are stubbornly staying out of reach, flipping through the air in a way that makes him stumble and his heart stutter. You lead him to a window, slipping in easily. Dick doesn’t get the chance to take in the sight of what must be your bedroom, because he’s being shoved to the bed, your firm voice brokering no room for argument.

“Strip for me, pretty bird, I want to see you.” He turns around with a cocky smirk, now finally an active player in the game you’ve crafted.

“Hm, seems a bit unfair if I’m the only one stripping.” His words become strangled as you pull your top overhead without hesitation. Fine scars littering soft looking skin, he wants to run his hand along everything he now sees. He doesn’t realize he’s staring until you push his chest lightly.

“Off, Dick. I’m not fucking with bat tech, much as I’d love to strip you down myself.” He would chuckle if the idea of you stripping him hadn’t caught in his brain like a broken record. He undoes the more complicated components of his suit first. Shoving down his boots and slowly stripping it to his waist. “Someone’s eager to see me.”

“Stop” Your voice cracks through the tension in the air when the suit is halfway down his body, sitting at his waist. You walk back to sit in a comfortable looking desk chair, turning it to face him as you lean on your knees, bare torso curving in a way that makes him want you to be on top of him.

“Stop?” He questions hesitantly, cooling slightly as he keys into your body language, he doesn’t think you mean completely, but he needs to be certain.

“I want you to show me how you were last night, best as you can Dick.” His name is smooth honey on your lips, and he whimpers a bit, hand sliding underneath his uniform, as uncomfortably trapped as it was the night before. He takes the short step back to lay back on the bed, stretching out in a way he knows emphasizes his well maintained silhouette. Despite the thrill of the situation clouding his thoughts, he grins smugly, catching your eyes as they skate across his body. Your eyes are intense and sharp as they focus on him, making him feel small and pitiful. The feeling only intensified by how much he likes feeling reduced by you, judged.

“Like what you see?” He tries to maintain an even keel, but his tone control is slipping under your gaze. You don’t respond, simply raising an eyebrow and gesturing for him to continue. Without a barb to respond to his resolve crumbles more and more with every lingering moment. He needs to hear your voice. As soon as he lets the guise crack open, you make an approving sound and start talking.

“Oh you poor thing, you couldn’t help yourself could you?” You ask and he whines, shaking his head and pressing his face against your pillow.

“Must be painful for you pretty bird, you’re barely able to give yourself anything like that. You need my help, don’t you? Need me to take care of you.” Your voice is mocking, and meaner than he’s used to hearing. He squeezes himself, hips canting in response. He opens his eyes, watching you take off your boots and approach him, slinging your leg over his waist and tugging his hand aside, pulling them up to the headboard. Your weight rests heavily on his thighs, his attention honing in on the pressure, wishing that he could feel your skin against his.

“I’m going to tie you up sweetheart, and then I’m going to fuck you until you cry.” You stroke his cheek with your free hand, gently, you speak with the same tone you use to talk about missions

. “If you come before I give you permission, then you won’t be allowed to again. And I promise you sweetheart, you’ll be begging for it. Though you’ll be begging regardless.” You whisper in his ear, shifting forward to rest directly on his weeping cock, the weight of you on him not enough through his uniform. He breathes heavily, unable to really formulate an answer. Committing the instructions to memory like every other mission given to him.

“Do you understand me, Nightwing?”

“Yes sir” He responds without thinking, squirming at the low groan he earns in response. He wants to hear all the sounds you can make. You pull off the fabric you use as a belt, tying his hands carefully to the headboard. He could, of course, slip them easily. But he won’t, he’ll be good for you.

“So sweet for me birdie. I love it.” You kiss him softly, hands sliding down his chest, tweaking his nipples in a way that makes him gasp and arch his back. Your mouth follows the path your hands draw, but more slowly. He tries not to writhe at the attention, misplaced pride driving him to contain his reactions. He knows it’ll goad you on, and suddenly Dick needs to see if he can break you in a different manner than you are breaking him. Your thumbs hook under the waist of his uniform, and you stop, moving to kiss him softly.

“Sing for me, pretty bird, I want to hear you.” It’s the kind of demand that only those with full confidence that they will be obeyed can give. A bored and unhurried drawl. He clenches his jaw, refusing to give in so quickly. You trace the edge of his uniform, and start rolling your hips in a way that is deeply unsatisfying. One hand wraps around his neck, squeezing until he can’t breathe properly. He tugs at his bonds, squirming uselessly, just as his vision starts to spot and he worries you won’t stop, you let go. He gasps, chest heaving and head sinking into the pillows. He glares at you, which lasts less than a second before you’re gripping his jaw, squeezing him tightly enough through his suit that it borders strongly on painful.

“If you’re going to be rude Dick, I’ll leave you just like this. I’ll use you to get myself off and give you nothing in return” Pleas spill out of him near unbidden.

“Please fuck me sir, I need you. Please don’t stop, I can’t take it, I-” His own feelings overwhelm him quickly, the coil of humiliation emptying his thoughts. You pull his suit off, finally. Your calloused hands stroke his thighs, hitching his legs over your shoulders. He can feel the swell of your chest pressing into the underside of his legs and it makes him wrap around you tighter. You fold him in half to reach your nightstand, his legs pinned between both chests. He tries to rut against your stomach, yelping when your hand presses down harshly on his dick to stop him pushing upwards.

“You need to behave for me sweetheart, or you’re going to be left wanting. You won’t get another warning” You say cooly, stroking a now slick finger down the length of him, a keen warbling out of his throat. Your clean hand closes around his throat, tightening lightly.

“Unwrap your legs if your words stop working birdie.” You whisper, finger stroking at his entrance teasingly. Dick sinks into the safe feeling that the option gives him. He has perfect control of whether this stops or keeps going, and not a single other thing. Your finger slides in, careful and slow. It’s a strange feeling at first, always is. It doesn’t take long for you to find that sweet spot, pressing against it and causing him to tighten like a bow, as sparks shoot up his spine, lighting up his nerves. Leaving the tingling feeling that resides after awareness returns.

“Such a hopeless little hero, aren’t you? Need this petty thief to put you in your place.” You coo, adding a second finger and stretching him open, tactically pressing against his sweet spot again the second he relaxes. “You don’t have to be Nightwing here, just a desperate slut. All needy and wanting.” You curl your fingers again, biting his ear hard enough that he wonders if he’ll start to bleed. “Use your words sweetheart, cry for me.”

“I’m yours sir” He whimpers, so loud it hurts his throat. “Fuck me like the slut I am, please. Please I need you, I’m not anything without this. I need you to fuck me, I don’t want to think I just want-” He runs out of air, words collapsing on themselves, leaving him panting. Your thumb brushes across his cheek, which is about the moment he realizes he’s been crying. He’s more hopeless than he thought, he’s more turned on than he’s been in his life.

“Want what? What do you want Dick?” You pull your hand out, wiping your hand clean with a damp cloth, sighing as you look at him, hands running across his scarred skin reverently.

“You. I want you, you crazy fuck-” He’s lashing out in frustration and your hand grabs his jaw like a vice, a snarl on your pretty lips. “Try that again pretty bird.” You slowly let go of his jaw, kissing the leg over your shoulder lightly just as your hand comes down hard on the side of his ass leaving a stinging red mark. “Say you’re sorry.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it. I’m good. I’ll be good I promise, please don’t leave me sir” He whines, hands tugging at the fabric around his wrists hard enough to bruise. “I don’t know why I lash out sir, I’m sorry” he apologizes again, and as a reward he feels a blunt tip begin to press into him as you bite down on the meat of his leg. He doesn’t breathe as he watches the blood drip down his leg, crimson painting your lips a gorgeous red. Your hand presses down on his chest, and he inhales sharply, shocked back to the present. He forces himself to relax, well behaved and pliant as your hips meet his. Your grip on his legs his bruising, and you wait for him to relax into the feeling of being full before you pull out, snapping your hips to fuck back into him harshly. He can’t speak any longer, haplessly sobbing as you rail him into the mattress.

“Look at you, pretty bird, taking me so good. How long have you wanted this for?” You mock him. Pulling out, removing his legs and flipping him over in a way that would easily injure anyone less flexible, as his arms twist uncomfortably. You press his face into the bed, and tell him to kick you if he needs to, or to curl in on himself if he can't. Your free hand pressing down his shoulders as you fuck back into him, switching to a painfully slow rhythm that leaves him trying to rock his hips to speed it up.

“Please, please just move you-” He cuts his insult off before it gets him in trouble, whining instead as your hand comes down hard on his ass again anyway, leaving a sharp pulsing sting in its wake.

“Good boy, you’re learning. So smart for me.” You say, deceptively kind in contrast to the harsh manner in which you yank his head back by his hair, making his back arch. He makes a pathetic noise but doesn’t respond otherwise. All the sensations make Dick lose track of which way his limbs were twisted, feeling faintly like his body didn’t fully belong to him anymore.

His throat is tight with the way his neck is stretched back. You don’t move, keeping his body taut and pulled into a near painful state. “Sir, I need it, please.” He begged, tension leaving him as he let himself be overwhelmed. Breaking in the face of silence, and he realizes with a fleeting bolt of clarity that you know exactly what that silence does to him. How nothingness is worse than both kindness or aggression. You know he needs feedback, good or bad. When he starts reacting, you start moving again, hands all over his body, pinching his sensitive chest, wandering over his arms and along his sides.

“That so? Do you deserve it? Have you been good?” You croon, grip loosening, and he realizes that you untied his wrists as well, guiding his hands to grip the sheets at the sides of his head. The blood rushing back into the limbs causes that floaty feeling of being freed to spread throughout his entire body. He keens, hips canting and body shaking as you grope his tender behind, kissing down his spine.

“I want to be good. Please let me, I want to be good, I’m trying so hard.” Dick clutches tightly at silken sheets, tense as he waits for your response, as he hopes for your approval. You gently flip him over, and pin his hands to the bed, scarred fingers threading though his own when he tries to hide his face.

“Look at me, Dick” Your command causes his gaze to snap to yours, adoring as it is heated. “You are perfect for me. So perfect. I’ll give you what you need.” You pull him into an absolutely filthy kiss as the praise, horrifyingly, makes him cry harder. You kiss the tear streaks, and start fucking him intense and fast. He all but screams, your name falling senselessly from kiss-bitten lips as your hand warps around his weeping cock, thumb swiping meanly over the head.

“Go on then pretty bird. Come undone for me. Show me how good you are” You bite his shoulder when you finish speaking, and Dick has the most intense orgasm of his life, spilling across his torso, whiting out and possibly passing out for a couple seconds. Chest heaving as the world comes back into focus one sensation at a time. The wet cloth wiping him down, the calloused fingers guiding him into your lap as your clever hands remake the bed. He grabs your wrist.

“But I didnt, I didnt do anything for you” He says, feeling pathetic, and also selfish.

“This wasn’t about me. And I didn’t want it to be” You assure him, not leaving room for the self doubt to settle in “I got everything I wanted from this” You brush his hair out of his face, leaning in to kiss him again. He kisses back, blue eyes staring at you with something close to wonder.

“Are you sure?” He asks, leaning into your comfort and warmth. You simply nod, and scoop him up. His arms wrap around your neck and he registers suddenly how gross he feels, covered in his own fluids. He flushes, tucking his face into your neck, needing the contact dearly. You set him on the seat in your shower, kissing his forehead as you take in his appearance.

“How do you feel sweetheart?” You ask, face open and charming. He has to think about his answer as you turn the water on. He’s just barely close enough to catch some of the spray, and as he contemplates, he realizes you’re watching him very closely. Then he realizes why.

“I feel good. The soreness hasn’t set in yet” He gives a wry smile, power dynamic between the both of you fully slipping away. Leaving you on equal ground. “And showers are fine. I just don’t like the rain” He adds softly, a confession he’s glad you won’t press him on. A grin splits across your lips, seriousness slipping away like it was never there.

“Suppose I should clean you up, since I made a mess of you, hm?” You tease, soap in hand, but not initiating. He shifts a bit, your constant checking in making his blood rush.

“I- yeah. That’d be nice. But only if you let me do something for you.” Dick respond, raising to his feet, glad for years of practice in staying on his feet. Without it, the haziness his previous orgasm had draped over him may have caused him to stumble. You tilt your head, and Dick can’t help but find it adorable.

“Depends, what do you want to do?” Your voice is carefully neutral, but now that he can see your eyes, you’re as transparent to him as he always felt he was to you. You’re excited. He gestures for you to sit, sinking to his knees between your legs when you do. He runs his hands over your strong thighs, giving you pleading doe eyes. “Can I, sir?” He feels strangely powerful using the title, knowing it will get to you. You groan, shifting forward to give him better access.

“Show me what you’ve got, pretty bird.” Your pupils are blown as you watch him lick across your core without hesitating. Your hand flies to his hair and the high pitched sound you make is deafening in the small room. Dick laps at your core, fingers moving to roll your clit between them, like a man starved. Your hips roll against his face, and his other hand darts between his legs to pump his arousal as he moans into you.

“You’re gorgeous Dick, so good and beautiful” Your words are broken up by a bitten off moan. “Taking care of both of us like this. Fuck, you’re amazing sweetheart.” praise continues to tumble out of you, and he redoubles his efforts, hand on himself stilling until the sweet sound of your climax meets his ears. He’s not far behind you after that. You pet his hair for a few moments longer before uncapping a shampoo bottle, tilting his head back into the spray of water.

Dick is pliant and nearly sleepy as you clean him, only pulling him off his knees once you’ve finished with his hair. Back on his feet he has the wherewithal to reciprocate, running soapy hands along your body. He has no particular goal behind the way his hands glide over your skin, only relishing in the intimate contact. That’s all you do until the water starts to cool, just quietly tracing scars, and the lines of each other’s bodies. You hand him a towel as you step out, it’s fluffy and blue. Neither of you gets dressed before slipping into the clean covers. You’re in his space the moment you lay down next to him, tugging his arm until he wraps it around you. You rub his back, kissing him whenever he leans in. He feels encompassed by the feelings you’ve gifted to him. For the first time in a while, he lets himself fall asleep in someone’s arms, feeling protected and truly wanted.

The morning comes together for him in pieces. The sun warming his bare skin, the sheets slung loosely over his hips, the sound of happy humming and the soundtrack it follows, and the smell of breakfast sneaking around the corner. He stretches as he sits up, not nearly as sore as he’d anticipated before he’d moved. He glances in the mirror and can’t help the flush sitting high on his cheeks as he sees the marks littering his whole body. He runs his fingers across them, smiling to himself.

You’re finishing the quick breakfast you’d decided to put together when you hear soft footsteps padding towards you. Turning around in time for Dick to place his arms on the counter beside you, leaning into your space. He’s only wearing bright pink sweats you’d left for him, and a shit eating grin.

“Good morning” He greets with a kiss, voice rough from sleep. You seem almost surprised, and he raises an eyebrow “What?”

“Given, well” you wave your hand vaguely “Before. I wasn’t expecting you to be so affectionate.” You grab one of his hands, massaging his rough and work hardened hand in yours. “I like it”

“Yeah? That’s good. I’d like to keep being this way. For as long as you’ll let me.” He leans in , kissing you again, tugging a hand free to turn off the stove and cup your face in his hands. You kiss his palm, laying your hand over his.

“You can be this way as long as you’re only flying with me sweetheart.” You give him a cute little smile and his heart melts for you. The way the clever turn of your caution has yielded to a hesitant trust.

“Course. That’s how I always am anyhow.” He confirms quickly, tugging you closer by your waist, enjoying the feeling of your arms wrapping around him in return. There’s a giddy, restless feeling that sits between the beats of his heart. He knows you both need to discuss your dynamic before doing anything again. For now though, all he needs is to just be here with you, exactly as he is.

[canirove]

Rice, Rice, baby | Chapter 25

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Masterlist

“Declan, stop moving your leg like that. You are gonna end up making a hole on the floor.”

“Sorry. I'm sorry.”

“And don't bite your nails!” I say, slapping his hand.

“I'm sorry, Liv. But I'm so nervous” he sighs.

“It's just a scan, Declan. Everything was fine on the last one, and everything will be fine on this one.”

“Yeah.”

“It will” I say, taking my hand on his and giving it an encouraging squeeze.

“I don't know how you can be so calm, Liv.”

“Well, someone has to when everyone else isn't” I shrug. Because on my previous scan, the one who was biting his nails was my dad. Then I have my mum and Madders constantly asking me if I'm ok, and at work everyone is treating me as if I was made of glass. Everyone but Alex, who is too busy acting as the perfect future dad. 

So far he seems to be happy with that and with not getting involved as we agreed during a little chat we had, and people have stopped asking questions about why we aren't doing anything together. I guess that the murderous look I give them all has helped. 

“Miss Chapman?” a nurse calls.

“That's us” I say as I get up from my chair, something that has started to become more complicated than it used to. “Declan? Declan, why aren't you coming? What… fuck” I say when I see the person standing in front of me. 

“Hello, Liv. And company” Aaron smiles. Aaron fucking Ramsdale. Declan's teammate on both Arsenal and the national team. 

“I… ummm… hi” I reply.

“What a lovely surprise” he says, still smiling.

“Yeah, definitely” I say with a nervous laugh. “What are you doing here?”

“Georgina had a scan today” he says, nodding towards the girl standing next to him.

“Oh, yes, of course! I had forgotten you are going to be a dad.”

“I am” he says, hugging his wife. “What about you?”

“Uh?”

“What are you doing here?”

“What do you think, you silly?” Georgina chuckles.

“I meant both of them” Aaron says, looking at Declan. He still hasn't moved or said a word.

“I… We…”

“Miss Chapman?” the nurse calls again.

“That's me, I have to go. Come on, Declan” I say, grabbing his arm and basically dragging him behind me. “It was nice seeing you, guys.”

“Wait” Aaron says, putting his hand on Declan's shoulder and stopping us. “There is a really nice coffee at the end of the street. Why don't we meet there once you are done with your appointment? You girls could catch up, share thoughts… Declan and I definitely have to.”

“I… I mean…” I mumble once again.

“We'll meet you there” Declan says, finally speaking.

“Great!” Aaron grins. “We'll see you there. Good luck!”

“Thank you. Let's go, Liv” Declan says, now being the one who is dragging me inside the doctor's office. 

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━

“Ready?” Declan says.

“Are you ready?” I ask him. The scan had been perfect, our little boy growing healthy and strong, and everything that needs to be ok with me also being as it should. But neither of us have been able to stop thinking about Aaron. About having to explain everything to him. 

“I guess” he sighs. 

“This is gonna be a good thing, you know? He is your teammate, your friend, and is going through the same experience you are. So having someone with whom you can talk and vent, just like I do with Kennedy, will help you a lot. Especially since you haven't told your family yet.”

Oh, yes. That tiny little detail. He's told me that he is waiting for the right moment to do it, that they still are asking him about what happened to end things with her ex. But if he keeps postponing it, I feel he may tell them once the baby is here. 

“Yeah, I guess it could help.”

“C'mon” I smile, taking his hand and walking into the cafeteria. Aaron and Georgina are waiting at the end of it, kind of hiding from everyone else so we can have some privacy.

“Hello, guys” Aaron smiles. “How did your appointment go?”

“Everything was perfect.”

“Oh, that's wonderful. Sit, please” he says, gesturing towards the two seats in front of him. 

Once we all have our drinks, the awkward silence starts. Declan is so focused on his coffee I feel the mug may explode just by the way he is looking at it, all while Aaron looks at him and tries really hard not to smile.

“So, do you know what you are having?” Georgina asks me.

“A boy” I say.

“Us too!” she smiles.

“Two future gooners, uh?” Aaron says, not being able to contain his smile anymore.

“Not if my dad can do something about it” I chuckle.

“Oh, yes! He is like the biggest Tottenham fan! Family dinners must be fun, uh?” he laughs.

“Yeah… Umm… Have you picked a name?” I ask Georgina. “We are struggling to choose one.”

“Because you don't like any name” Declan says, remembering he can talk. 

“I do like names. Just not the ones you suggest.”

“You don't like any name, Liv. For example, you don't want to name him after me or anyone in our families who is still alive because you don't want to call after him and have three different people replying.”

“Well, it's confusing” I shrug.

“I agree on that” Aaron says.

“Ok, fine, I get it” Declan says. “But then you want a name who has a good nickname. Why is that important?”

“Says the person who gets called Deccy” I reply, rolling my eyes.

“I beg your pardon?” Aaron laughs.

“See? It is important” I say, gesturing towards him. “Look at his reaction.”

“I suggested calling him John, and you said no because you didn't like Johnny. What is wrong with that?”

“Johnny Rice? Seriously?” Aaron laughs again.

“Oh, that's another thing. It has to sound nice with Rice” Declan scoffs.

“I mean, he is your son, bro. The chances of becoming a football player in the future and using his full name like you do, are there” Aaron shrugs.

“That's another excuse she's given me. That I only pick football player names.”

“Because you do, Declan. When we made a list with names we liked, yours basically was made of the names of all your teammates and idols. John obviously was for John Terry.”

“Wait, was Aaron on the list?” he asks.

“It was. And she actually liked it, said that Aaron Rice sounded nice. But it didn't have a nickname” Declan says, taking a sip of his coffee to hide that now he was the one rolling his eyes.

“Roonie” Georgina says.

“Too similar to Rooney.”

“See?” Declan says. “She doesn't like any name!”

“That's actually the name we've picked” Georgina says with a shy smile.

“Oh, sorry, I…” Great job, Olivia. Wonderful. You just insulted them.

“It's ok, don't worry. You didn't know.”

“Yeah, but… I'm sorry. It makes sense, tho. Aaron, Ronnie… It's the same but different. We can't do that unless we want his future classmates to bully him.”

“Whatever” Declan says, drinking again.

“You'll find a name, bro” Aaron says. “When you least expect it you will see it written somewhere or someone will mention it, and boom! That's it.”

“Or maybe once you see his face” Georgina says. “That's what happened with me. My parents knew that if I was a boy I would be George, but couldn't decide on a girl's name, and when I was born…” she shrugs.

“Let's hope that's the case” I sigh.

“Yeah” Declan mutters next to me.

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━

“Three six seven?”

“Yep, that's it.”

“Perfect. I'll text you the link later. You will love those leggings, Liv. Trust me” Georgina smiles. “Aaron, we are done.”

“One minute” he says.

After finishing our coffee together, he took Declan outside with the excuse of letting us talk about pregnant women things they didn't need to know about. And judging by how serious Declan looked when Georgia and I left the cafeteria, I can imagine what their conversation was about. 

“Looks that it went well” she says when Aaron hugs Declan, both of them laughing. 

“Looks like it” I say, letting out the biggest sigh ever. 

“If you need to talk about anything else, you can also text me or call me.”

“Uh?”

“Aaron couldn't tell me much after we left the doctor's, but things are a bit complicated between you and Declan, aren't they?” A bit, she says. Ha! “So if you want to talk, I'm here for you, Liv. I know we just met, but…”

“Thank you, Georgina” I smile. They say that Aaron is like sunshine, but honestly? So is she. No wonder they found each other.

“Of course” she smiles back. 

“We need to meet again before the little men are here” Aaron says, he and Declan joining us. “Maybe you could come over to our place for lunch?”

“Yeah, why not?” Declan says, smiling for the first time since we crossed paths with them.

“Great. It was really nice seeing you again, Liv.”

“You too, Aaron. And it was lovely to meet you, Georgina.”

“Likewise” she smiles.

“See you tomorrow, bro” he says, squeezing Declan's shoulder.

“Yeah” he replies.

“So…” I say once Aaron and Georgina have left. 

“So.”

“That wasn't that bad, was it?”

“It wasn't, no. And sorry about the way I behaved when we were talking about the baby's name. I was too tense and nervous and I made you pay for it.” 

“It's ok.”

“No, it isn't. I… I'm sorry, Liv. I truly am” Declan says, taking my hand on his and starting to make circles with his thumb on my skin, the feeling making my knees feel like jelly. “I've behaved like a dick and I hate myself for it.”

“It wasn't that serious” I manage to say. Is he turning me on just by touching me like that? Yes, he is. Damn you, hormones.

“Maybe this time, but in the past...”

“What?”

“I think I owe you an apology for breaking your heart, Liv. For everything I did while we were seeing each other. But I… I…” 

“You what?” I ask, taking a step forward and closing most of the space between us. Why? I don't know. I can already feel his perfume surrounding me, and that usually ends with me letting my guard down. 

“I, Liv... I…” he says, lifting his eyes from our hands and looking at me in a way he hadn't before. He looks hurt, confused, kind of sad too. There is no sign of the confident man I know, the one who always has a joke to tell or a flirty thing to say.

“Declan, what is it?” I ask, caressing his cheek with my free hand. “Tell me.”

“Liv, I… I… I'm sorry” he whispers. And call me crazy, but I'm pretty sure that wasn't the only thing he wanted to say, that there was something else. But what? 

“I know.”

“Well, umm…” he says, clearing his throat and taking a step back, the moment we were having, gone. “Fancy going for a walk before we grab something to eat?”

“Will you buy me chocolate cake for dessert? It's a good way to say I'm sorry, and I think we both deserve it after everything that has happened today.”

“Ok, fine. We'll have chocolate cake for dessert” he says, rolling his eyes but also smiling. “C'mon.”

“Thank you” I smile back before hugging him.

“Thank you, Liv” he replies, hugging me back and kissing the top of my head. “Thank you.”

[thewolvesof1998]

Created by @mostlyinthemorning

Day 12 pt. 1

Okay, so I thought I would do something special for the last day, here is a list of all of my favourite fics from all of my mutuals (I've read like 95% of these and others are highly anticipated!) I'm going to have to do this in two parts!

Lets Go to Bed by Wildgirl93 @wildlife4life  

Eddie just wanted to cuddle with his boyfriend and take a nap. Chimney just wanted a quiet place to sleep and steal Buck's bed just for a short time to do so. And Buck was just finishing his shower.

to you i'm just a man (to me you're all i am) by Underhung_Aura @eddiebabygirldiaz

Buck is fucking tired of living with his parents. He’s nearly thirty years old for Christ’s sake, and he is sick to death of being at their beck and call, of having to bend to their every whim, of being constantly scrutinized while also being constantly ignored. For his entire life he has been buried beneath their thumbs, his weak, aching, fragile body pushed further and further into the ground until dry soil and broken twigs flood his mouth, left to rot with the mark of their fingerprints burned so deeply into him that there’s no way of removing them. OR Buck is the son of the president of the United States and is finally moving out of the White House. His new home comes with new neighbors, Eddie and Christopher Diaz, who quickly become the center of Buck's world. But despite being out from under his parent's thumb, Buck's life is messy and complicated and ruled by the fact that he is the First Son which means he is always under the watchful eyes of his bodyguards. None of that stops him from pursuing a life with the Diaz boys, but there are many complications, some of which he isn't even aware of. Yet.

Your heart or mine? Yours every time by Spotsandsocks @spotsandsocks

Buck and Eddie get trapped in an elevator, which would be fine except Buck’s skipped a few meals recently and he’s a little hungry. He’s also not exactly told his best friend everything about himself so the secret he’s been keeping is about to be revealed at the worst possible time in the worst possible way. Buck can handle it though and if it comes to it he knows what he has to do to keep Eddie safe. Eddie however has his own thoughts on the subject and sometimes secrets aren’t as secret as you think. A soft concerned voice and a hand on his arm jerks him back to here and now, “Hey you ok? You’re breathing funny.” It’s the touch that does it, it’s both too much and nowhere near enough. Eddie looking at him like that, touching him gently, it’s too close to what he wants, and he wants a lot. He wants far too much from this man and he can’t have any of it. Unable to stop himself Buck jerks away, the movement far too fast and abrupt not to cause more concern in his friend. “Buck” Eddie’s hands are held up in a gesture designed to soothe and comfort, all it does is show Buck his pulse point.

we are a fresh page on the desk (filling in the blanks as we go) by heartbeatdiaz @loserdiaz

"Interesting read?" Buck asks and when Eddie shoots him a confused look, he nods towards the book in his lap. "Leave The Light On?" "Oh! Yeah, it's one of my favorite books." Eddie smiles, shy and charming. "I've read the series like, a thousand times." "Really? Huh?" Buck feels his heart thump erratically inside of him. Holy shit, holy shit. Eddie Diaz read his books.  Honestly, how is Buck supposed to act normal after such revelation? "I'm actually flying to an audition right now. Hopefully to be part of the movie for the book." Eddie says and then frowns. "Oh shit, I don't know if I should've told you that." "It's okay." He leans forward and grins, squinting one of his eyes and shrugging. "Your secret's safe with me.' or; Buck's a best seller author under a pen name, Eddie is an actor auditioning for the movie adaptation of his books, and somewhere along the way, they fall in love.

Castles Crumbling Downby jesuisici33 @jesuisici33

Eddie sits down on the bench, laying his head back against the cold stone wall. With his eyes closed and arms crossed, he hopes it fools the guards into thinking Eddie is more calm than he really is. That they can’t tell how much his heart is pounding or how his skin itches to start punching things. Again. Just like how they found him when his hood fell off and people let out cries that the Princess Assassin is here amongst them. OR: i had a tumblr prompt in my ask box and when i watched nimona things finally clicked.

you been looking for love (let me show you how it's done) by wikiangela @wikiangela 

“Are you-” he frowns, the confusion somehow winning with the urge to just lean in and kiss him so thoroughly he’ll forget about any other kiss he might’ve shared with any dates. “Are you doing all this on purpose?” “Doing what?” Eddie tilts his head, licks his lips, and – Buck’s almost a hundred percent sure – drops his gaze to Buck’s lips for a second. “Eddie.” Buck takes a deep breath, and wants so badly to kiss the smirk off of Eddie’s face. “Please.” “What for?” “You’re driving me insane.” he whispers, nails digging into his palms to prevent himself from reaching out. But Eddie’s thigh is pressed against his, and somehow his hand is on Buck’s knee now, and Eddie’s looking at him in such a way, that it makes Buck hot all over – or, hotter, his palms are sweating, actually. “And I feel like you are doing it on purpose.” or, Eddie is a tease, Buck is horny and jealous of Eddie dating, and a regular evening takes an unexpected turn.

so you've got the looks but have you got the touch? by BekkaChaos @bekkachaos

The 118 team spend a night out to celebrate Maddie and Chim’s engagement and wind up at Karaoke. They take turns singing and Buck thinks Eddie is so predictable and tells him so, only for him to throw a complete Louisville curveball and surprise him. But that doesn’t impress Buck. Not much.

Don’t spoil him because you feeling guilty (just love him how you really mean it) by disasterbuckdiaz @disasterbuckdiaz

“First of all, if I remember right, two months ago you were too old to have plushies,” Eddie points, looking at his son. He even portrays how Chris said it to him, which causes Chris to roll his eyes in response. “Don't roll your eyes, Christopher Diaz. Secondly, we agreed that since I'm buying you the fancy console you dreamed of, you don't ask for anything else for a whole month, do you?” Christopher sighs but nods in agreement. Eddie can't help but smile at how cute his son looks and raises his head to share this moment with Buck, who is not standing next to them. Eddie almost starts to panic when he sees Buck at the checkout. He returns a minute later and hands the penguin to Chris, who lights up brighter than the sun. or, 5 times Eddie tries to understand why Buck spoils Chris more than ever after his coma, and 1 time Buck tells him why

come close, let me be home by Daffi_990_ao3 @daffi-990

“Looking good out there, Buckley” Eddie says as he hands him a beer. Buck accepts the bottle and takes a seat beside him, popping the cap off to take a drink. “Any chance we’ll see you bust some moves on the dance floor, Diaz?” “Maybe, if I have the right partner”. Eddie’s looking right and him and Buck can feel a blush creeping its way across his cheeks. It’s shit like this that has him thinking maybe this thing between them isn’t just one sided. Buck takes another pull of beer, keeping eye contact with Eddie and watching how the other man tracks the bob of his adams apple as he swallows. “The night is still young and full of possibilities.” Buck replies, and he swears he sees Eddie’s eyes sparkle OR Buck and Eddie slow dance at Maddie and Chim’s wedding

merle said mama tried, but the prison still won by oklahoma @malewifediaz

“You’ve made bail, Diaz.” Eddie stands, wipes his sweaty hands off on his jeans, and clears his throat. “This isn’t even a real jail, Dwight,” he says, stepping through the makeshift cell door held open for him, and looks over at his rescuer. “Hi, Buck.” - Eddie goes to (mall) jail.

The Bridge by escapethroughreading @chaoticgremlinwholikescheese

"Dad? I think Buck isn't okay." "Why would you say that, mijo?" "I use 'find my friends' to keep an eye on him sometimes. Since he doesn't come over anymore. You know the bridge we drive over to get to school? Buck's been there for two hours. The weather's really bad. He shouldn't be out there."

i like the summer rain (i like the sounds you make) by fleetinghearts @shitouttabuck 

Death comes for Eddie in the form of a small fluffy bunny. Several small fluffy bunnies, actually. He’s not being hyperbolic, okay? This is how he goes. Hen and Chim can take their Drama Queen Diaz eye rolls and shove it. He’s having a perfectly reasonable reaction to the sight before him. And if the classic bright white light everyone talks about is more accurately a kind of warm glow dotted with sparkles and floating cartoon hearts in his current experience? Well, that’s between him and his God. or, it's truly tragic that eddie diaz isn't kissing buck buckley, especially when everything he does makes him so damn kissable The one with all the nicknames by buddiefication (pumpkincreamcoldbrew) @911onabc Eddie has never been overly fond of pet names. He uses them on Buck a lot, though. OR: 5 times Eddie calls Buck a platonic nickname + 1 time he doesn’t.

Feels Like Magic by 42hrb @exhuastedpigeon

“You used too much magic again,” Buck’s voice was quiet as he spoke, but he knew Eddie heard him. “You’re alive,” Eddie’s eyes were closed, but Buck knew the look Eddie would be giving him if they had been open. It was the same look Eddie had given him when he had said ‘because, Evan, you think you’re expendable but you’re not’. It was a look that made Buck feel truly and completely seen in a way he never had before. “There’s no such thing as too much if it saves you.” “Go to sleep,” Buck said, because if he left himself say anything else he’d be telling Eddie he loved him and he didn’t think in the bunk room at two in the morning after an exhausting call was the right moment, but then again, Buck was pretty sure he’d be taking that secret to his grave. -- An urban fantasy AU where most things are the same, except there's magic and supernatural creatures!

now go stand in the corner and think about what you did by eddiediaztho @spagheddiediaz

Buck was the most forgiving person Eddie knew. In fact, Eddie was pretty sure that Buck was the most forgiving person that anyone knew. He had forgiven Maddie for leaving him when he needed her the most. He had forgiven his parents for their years and years of emotional neglect (amongst other things.) Hell, he had even forgiven that psychopath that blew up the fire truck that almost cost him his career and his life. Which is why Eddie was beside himself that he was going on hour twelve of the cold shoulder from his best friend.

you can see it with the lights out by yourcatfishfriend @your-catfish-friend 

Eddie has Halloween plans: stay home and mope because Chris is trick-or-treating with his friends instead of his dad. Buck interrupts to introduce Eddie to the joys of Adult Halloween, and Eddie realizes a few things.

i could get used to having you around by HungryHungryHippo @hippolotamus

Even so, there’s a certain intimacy in knowing Buck is comfortable there, cooking a meal with Eddie’s kid and saying - in different words - come home to us. The thought tugs at his heart, and within seconds, Eddie tosses his phone aside before throwing his truck in reverse. He thinks he might hear music when he approaches the front door. Inside, it’s difficult to decide what he notices first. Queen’s Don’t Stop Me Now playing through the Bluetooth speaker, the aromatic blend of spices emanating from the kitchen, or the way his heart skips a beat when he sees Buck standing next to Christopher, laughing and stirring something on the stovetop. “What a homecoming,” Eddie praises. He’s 87% certain there’s a dopey, lovesick grin on his face. Chris and Buck both stop what they’re doing to turn and look. Buck smiles warmly, like someone much more important than Eddie’s just arrived.

Too busy being yours to fall for someone new by LadyDorian05 @ladydorian05 

Natalia helps Buck pick a couch for his apartment, but when the wrong one gets delivered he starts to think maybe it's some kind of cosmic sign from the universe. Determined to not let his best friend mope to death, Eddie decides it's time that he helps Buck find a couch so that he can stop associating a piece of furniture with the success or failure of his romantic relationships. And he does, Buck finds the one.

Flickers of Fate by steadfastsaturnsrings @steadfastsaturnsrings

"Did-Did the man who helped me pull out the dead solider survive?" Eddie mumbled, "He-He....said he was right behind me but then disappeared...Is he okay?" "There was no other man, Diaz, You were the last one out of the helicopter. You pulled out that solider all by yourself" The official standing over him responded, looking at Eddie curiously. Eddie opened his eyes again, trying to sit up. "Easy, Easy Diaz" The official soothed, putting his hand on Eddie's chest so he would lay back down

Paradise Blue by king_buckley @king-buckley

When Evan Buckley ran away from his problems to a resort in Italy, he never thought that the enigmatic bartender would have quite the impact on his life that he did. alt title - i went to italy and fell in love with the bartender and had to make a bartender!eddie au

tagging: @hippolotamus @exhuastedpigeon @steadfastsaturnsrings @monsterrae1 @pirrusstuff @spotsandsocks @buddierights @jamespearce9-1-1

[toomanystoriessolittletime]

the future

Summary: Frankie and you finally talk.

Pairing: Frankie Morales x fem. Reader; Marcus Pike x fem. Reader

Wordcount: 1.3k

Warnings: unplanned pregnancy, fluff, angst, implied complications at childbirth, implied childbirth

A/N: This is the last chapter. I hope you like how I let it end. Thank you all who read this little angsty experiment that was supposed to be a one shot.

Part of the (Ir)replaceable series

You had just finished lunch when there was a knock on your door. Marcus looked at you, mouthing, are you okay? You nodded, giving him a small smile before he walked over to your door to open it. 

You slowly got up to follow him when you saw Frankie walk into your kitchen. He was pushing a stroller in front of him. 

“Hi,” he said as he saw you. 

“Hey.”

“I hope it’s okay. I walked over here. He just fell asleep… I…”

“It’s fine,” you nodded. 

“I’ll be in the office if you need me,” Marcus stood behind Frankie gesturing towards your office where he had been working from, looking at you. He had insisted on giving you two time and space to talk, but wanted to be close, just in case you needed him. It made you love him a little more. 

“Thank you,” you smiled softly. 

Frankie watched you as you rounded the kitchen table. 

“You want something to drink?” you asked him. You felt a little nervous to be alone with him, your nerves on edge. Your baby girl had been kicking like crazy today and you felt like it was almost time, which did not help your nerves. 

“Water would be great,” Frankie said, stepping into your kitchen. 

You fixed him a glass of water. 

“Let’s go to the living room. My back is killing me and I wanna lay down if you don’t mind,” you gave him the glass, his finger brushing over yours as he took it. And you were surprised to not feel…. Anything. 

Frankie used to have the talent to make you squirm with a single touch. But now… nothing. 

“Sure. Is it okay if I take the stroller there too?”

“Sure,” you nodded. 

This was awkward. 

Frankie was just looking at you without saying anything. You were half sitting, half laying on the sofa, Frankie sitting in the armchair across from you.

You never used to have issues finding something to talk about to each other.

“So… How is Mateo doing?” you finally asked. Smalltalk was a good start, right?

A small smile sneaked to his face. 

“He’s… He’s perfect. When he’s not crying. He’s almost sleeping through the night which apparently is something that’s not normal.”

“Sounds like you got lucky,” you hummed. 

He sighed. 

“With him? Yeah. With the rest of my life? Nope,” he laughed humourless. 

“Frankie…” you sighed. 

“Would you… let me say something first? You can yell at me after, I don’t care. I just need… I just need to say some things,” he looked up at you and into your eyes for the first time. 

You gulped before you nodded for him to continue. 

“I am an asshole. I knew what I was doing from the very beginning and nothing I will ever say can express how sorry I am for how I treated you. I am so fucking sorry. You… You should know that I really fell in love with you. I am in love with you, which is why I want you to be happy. And from what I can see he makes you happy.”

“Frankie…” you whispered. 

“I honestly don’t know what is wrong with me. I’m… I’m working on myself. In therapy. And I… I want to be there for you however you want to let me. I want to meet our baby. I want to be a father. And Mateo and the baby could grow up together.”

“What… What about your wife, Frankie?” you asked softly. 

He sighed, and you saw him blinking his eyes as they filled with tears. 

“She lost a lot of blood after the delivery. There’s… I don’t understand everything but she’s at the hospital. In a coma. It’s… It’s unlikely she’ll ever wake up,” he whispered. 

“I’m… I’m so sorry Frankie.”

“Guess I had it coming with how I fucked up this last year,” he shook his head to himself. 

“Don’t…. Don’t say that. You fucked up. Big time. But… Frankie, this isn’t your fault.”

“Does feel like it,” he shrugged.

“I shouldn’t have punished you like I did. I just… I was so hurt. And heartbroken. And you kept pushing and pushing and lying and…”

“I’m sorry I showed up at your doorstep. That… It wasn’t okay.”

“No it wasn’t,” you agreed with him. You took a deep breath.

“But that’s in the past. Therapy and Marcus helped me to focus on what’s important. And that’s her,” your hands came to rest on your belly. 

“It’s… It’s a girl?” he whispered. You smiled a little, nodding your head in agreement. 

“Yeah. I… I haven’t decided on a name. I like Caroline, Marcus suggested Luna, which I also love,” you shrugged. 

“Marcus is… he seems great,” Frankie said carefully. 

“Yeah. Yeah he is. I…” you stopped yourself. Talking about your feelings in front of Frankie…

“You love him,” he said softly. You sucked your bottom lip in. 

“I… I don’t know…” you lied

“You used to look at me like that. With that… sparkle in your eyes,” he said, smiling sadly. 

You both were quiet.

“I like Luna too,” he said after a while. 

“Yeah?” you asked. He nodded. Your eyes widened when you felt a kick against your hand. 

“I think she approves,” you chuckled. 

“Can… Can I?” he asked. 

“Yeah, come here.”

Frankie stayed for dinner. 

While Marcus was protective of you, he wanted to get to know Frankie. If things continued with you and your relationship, Frankie would be in his life too. He did not want to start on the wrong foot. Marcus knew you were still healing from the betrayal you suffered from Frankie, but if you could make an effort to forgive him, why should he hold a grudge?

Though if he ever chose to hurt you ever again, Marcus would definitely have words with the man.

Frankie helped Marcus cook dinner, while you fed Mateo his bottle. He was like a mini version of Frankie and you wondered how your girl Luna, as the three of you had now decided, would look. 

You were beyond ready to find out. 

And for the first time since finding out you were pregnant you felt completely at ease. 

It was during dinner, Marcus and Frankie were deep in a conversation about some… ball…. game you were not interested in when a sudden pain in your stomach made you inhale sharply. Both Marcus and Frankie’s eyes were on you immediately, Marcus reaching over to touch your hand. 

“Everything okay?” he asked.

“I… I think it’s time. I think the baby is coming.”

Marcus released a breath, before he shook himself out of it, getting up from his chair, smiling at you. 

“Are you ready?” he asked, kneeling next to you, his hand in yours. 

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m ready to meet her,” you smiled. He kissed you quickly, before he got up.

“Gonna get your bag,” he said and disappeared. You closed your eyes, breathing in deeply. 

When you opened your eyes Frankie was there, looking at you. He seemed anxious. 

“Are you okay?” you asked and he huffed a laugh. 

“You’re about to deliver a baby and you ask me if I'm okay?” 

“Well… yeah,” you shrugged. 

“I’m… I’m fine. I’m gonna head home and….”

Marcus walked back into the kitchen and you frowned at Frankie. 

“You don’t want to come to the hospital? I’m sure you can bring Mateo…”

“Uh… I… I didn’t know you wanted me there…” he said quietly. You took Marcus hand, letting him help you stand up. He pulled his arm around your middle. 

“Frankie, if you want to go home, you can. But if you want to be there when I give birth to our daughter, I won’t stop you.”

A million different emotions could be read on his face, tears welling in his eyes. 

“I’ll be there.”

[stolitzsings]

💖, 🖋 and 👨‍👩‍👧 for the ask game! (I probably got at least one of the emojis wrong but hopefully they still make sense 😂) - @blitzwhore

💖 What do you like most about your own writing?

Can't believe you're gonna make me think of something nice to say about myself 🤣 I've been told I have a very "lyrical" style of writing, and sometimes I'll write a sentence or paragraph that flows really well and just Hits. I love those moments when I feel like I've really nailed it at a word-for-word level.

👨‍👩‍👦 Do you tell people in real life that you write fic?

Most people in my life know I do writing of some sort, but I'm pretty vague with the details lol. I only talk about writing fic with irl friends who also write/read fic (and I don't tell most of them that I write smut, just bc I know it isn't their jam). I told my therapist I write "character studies," because what is smut if not horny character analysis? 🤣

🖋 Post a snippet from a current WIP

Putting this one under the cut!

Ok I was a little nervous about sharing this because it's from a longer AU I've been toying around with, and historically I'm very bad at sticking to longer projects. But regardless of what I do with it I had a lot of fun writing this scene of M&M tormenting Blitz lmao

Blitz could feel his face heating up. “He isn’t— It’s not like—” Fuck, he was losing this one fast. “Okay, so maybe we’re boning or whatever, but it’s just a casual thing, you know? It’s not like we’re dating or anything.” Moxxie raised an eyebrow. It was almost impressive how smug he looked. “Who said anything about dating?” “I think he just did, babe.” Okay, now they were getting on his nerves. He could feel his spines starting to bristle.  “Look. It’s just a convenience thing, ‘kay? He gets to have his bad boy fantasy, and I get a reliable fuck who I know won’t steal my kidneys while I’m asleep.” It wasn’t like Stolas would ever really consider a relationship with someone like him. Disowned or not, he was still a royal. And that was fine! Blitz didn’t want anything complicated, anyway. Fucking was easy. It was comfortable. It was all either of them was looking for.  “If you say so, sir.” Moxxie had somehow dialed the smugness up to eleven.  Blitz rolled his eyes and walked towards the door. “I’m firing both of you. And I’m keeping your shares for today.” He was pretty sure Moxxie started to say something in response, but he was out the door before he heard it.  He let himself stew as he made his way down to the parking lot. “Looking for excuses,” for fuck's sake. They were hired killers! What did they expect? He was going to get injured sometimes. And it only made sense to go see Stolas, who knew more about this shit than any of them did. Besides, a quick fuck sesh was good for you, or something. Boosted your sero-whatever levels. Got your blood pumping. It was basically healthcare, anyway. Talk about a bedside manner, he thought to himself, grinning. He made a mental note to use that one with Stolas later. He'd think it was funny.

“C’mere, B, let me take a look at that scratch for you.” Millie had opened up their first-aid kit and had just finished bandaging a shallow cut on her thigh. Blitz looked down at the wounded arm that she’d gestured to. It wasn’t serious— an annoyance, more than anything. He shrugged. “Eh, that’s okay. I’ll just have my guy take a look at it.” Millie eyed him skeptically, like she was trying to catch him in a lie. “You know, you’ve been spending an awful lot of time with this mysterious “guy” of yours lately.” Moxxie looked up from his paperwork with a conspiratorial smile. “You’ve been seeing him for everything, even minor injuries. Almost like you’re looking for excuses to pay him a visit.” Oh great, the famous M&M tag team. “What? No, I haven’t.” Even he knew he sounded defensive. “Sure looks that way to me.” Millie crossed her arms and perched on the edge of the desk so that she and Moxxie could give him the double stare-down. Cute. “Are you sure that medical attention’s all he’s been giving you?”

Thank you for the ask @blitzwhore! I'm still answering these prompts if y'all are curious 😊

[slytherin-fanfics]

Troubled

A James Potter Fanfiction

Your Name: Seraphina ‘Sera’ Crowther

Trigger Warnings: Cheating, a little angst? More on friendship than romance (a bit of unrequited love), long fic, 6k words. There might be a part two that focuses more on romance.

Deep into the odd hours of the night, Sera find herself awake and unable to sleep. She go down to the Gryffindor common room in hopes of finding a book to help qualm her restlessness, but she stumble upon an exhausted James Potter instead, who sits on a couch next to the fireplace alone.

Seraphina approached him, and ruffles his already messy hair. "Problem, Potter?" She asked with a hint of playfulness in her tone.

James looks up at Serpahina and smiles sleepily "Oh hey! Nah just couldn't sleep." He says, his voice slightly groggy. He looks so much more handsome to her like this, and she can't help but laugh as he tries to smooth his hair back down.

Sera slumped herself down on the couch beside James. “Why don’t you go up on your dorm then?”

James looks at her for a moment, then sighs. "I've tried, but my mind just keeps racing. It's exhausting. I can't turn my brain off." He yawns as he looks at her. "Why are you here so late? Couldn't sleep?" He asked.

Sera nodded as she too heaved a yawn. “Everything okay with you and Lily?” she asked. Implying about the Gryffindor girl that James has been seeing lately, much to Sera’s dismay. But of course, she won’t let her friend hear that dismay in her tone.

James's expression darkens for a moment. "That's the thing, I don't...know. We've been fighting a lot lately, I don't really know why. Every time, it just seems to come out of nowhere. She's so... confusing, I just can't seem to understand her. I don't know if we'll last, but...that's the last thing on my mind right now. I'm just too damn tired." He leans his head back against the couch, his expression full of frustration.

Seraphina frowned at her friend before throwing a throw pillow at him. “You’re not thinking of breaking up with her, are you?”

James rubs his face, feeling even more frustrated. "No, I don't... I don't know. I don't know what to do. I love her, but she just... she makes it so difficult. Why are girls so bloody complicated?" He throws his pillow back at Sera.

A soft chuckle erupted from Seraphina’s throat. “We’re not complicated. You just couldn’t understand her- us. Say, to help you remove things on your head for a while, you wanna sneak off to Hogsmeade tonight?” Sera’s bright green eyes glint with mischief.

James looks at her with surprise, but then a smirk comes to his lips. "Sneak off to Hogsmeade, huh? I like the sound of that. But we're definitely going to get caught, especially with my luck." He laughs, but then looks down, his expression uncertain. "But what about Lily? She'll kill me if she finds out." Sera rolled her eyes before pulling the Marauder’s map from James’ inside pocket. “I didn’t take you for a coward, prongs.” You grinned.

He laughed at her, pushing her playfully. "Alright, you win. Let's do it. But don't think I have forgotten that you called me a coward." He stands up, stretching. "Should we grab a butterbeer while we're there? I feel like some butterbeer would really hit the spot right now."

“Think bigger, James.” Sera continued as she dust herself off. “How about a firewhiskey?” she smirked. He grins at this. "Firewhiskey? Now you're speaking my language. What do you say we head over to The Three Broomsticks and see if they have any good gossip to overhear?" He looks over at her, a mischievous glint in his eye. "Maybe we can even make a little trouble while we're there." He winks, his smirk growing wider. “Should we use the secret passage under the stairs, then?” She asked, the mischief in her eyes matching his.

He smirked. "Now that's not even a question. Where's the fun if we don't use the secret passage?" He grabbed the map from her, glancing at it for a moment before starting to fold it up. "Let's go, shall we?" He gestured towards the staircase. Seraphina nodded as she followed James down the secret passageway under the Gryffindor stairs. The passageways are full of cobwebs and dust, she has to use her sleeves to block off her nose. After a while, they emerged from under Zonko’s Joke Shop. James pushed a tile, trying to see if there’s someone around. When he realized that the area is clear, he signaled Sera to come up with him, pulling her up before sealing the tile again and putting a box above it. 

"There we go," he said with a grin, dusting himself off. "We made it out without getting caught. I'd say that's a win for us." He turned to her, his eyes gleaming with excitement. "Now, let's go enjoy some firewhiskey and see what kind of mischief we can get into." He chuckled, feeling more relaxed than he had in a long time. It was so refreshing to be able to just be himself without the weight of his relationship troubles weighing him down. “Is this Zonko’s? Maybe we can get some stuff here before going to Hogshead for the firewhiskey.” Sera answered as she look around.

James looks around, a playful glint in his eyes. "You know, I think you’re onto something. I wouldn't mind a few of those funny fireworks they have in here. Besides, a bit of mischief never hurts, right?" He grins, already feeling more like himself again. He was so tired of overthinking everything with Lily that he was happy to have something to distract him. Sera grinned at him as she makes her way out of Zonko’s storage room where the passage led them. They sneaked inside the shop and blended with the other customers. Sera stopped near some bottles, “Oh hey, James. I heard these smells good.” She said before spraying it straight on James’ face only for the contents of the bottles to smell like fart. James flinched  from the smell, holding his nose in disgust. "Sera! That smells like death!" But despite his protests, he couldn't help but laugh. He knew she was only trying to have a little fun and it was refreshing to see someone who matches his pranking energy. "Okay, that was pretty funny," he admitted, "but let's stay away from the farting potions, shall we?" He said, still laughing. Sera laughed at his expression. “You’re no fun, James Potter!” She teased as she tried some sticky hands on his nape. James squirmed, trying to get away from her. "Oh no you don't, Sera! You're going to stick those on my perfectly quiffed hair, aren't you?" He said, laughing. He loved their playful banter and her infectious laughter. It’s just like spending time with Sirius and Remus… but also, different. He can’t explain it, though.

Seraphina laughed. “Please, your hair is always so messy.” She answered as she looked at some products, trying to test them out. James rolled his eyes, trying to fix his already messy hair. "Excuse you, I'll have you know that this is the latest fashion. It's called 'effortlessly messy', thank you very much." He playfully shoved her. "Besides, I can't compete with your perfectly wavy and shiny hair." He teased, running his hand through her hair to mess it up. Sera playfully swayed her hair back as she teased James playfully. “Let’s pay for these then let’s go to Hogshead for the firewhiskey.” She said as she makes her way towards the counter. James chuckled as he followed her to the counter, shaking his head in amusement. "I still can't believe you convinced me to do this, Sera. We're going to be in so much trouble if we get caught. But hey, I've always said that the best things in life are worth the risk, right?" He grinned, feeling the excitement building in his bones. "Let's go get that firewhiskey, and maybe a butterbeer too. I need it to wash down the stench of those damned farting potions you sprayed on my face." 

Sera laughed as she pay for her stuff. “You’re acting as if sneaking off is not an everyday task for you. The only difference tonight is that Sirius and Remus are not with us.” James rolled his eyes, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "You make it sound as if sneaking off is a bad habit I have! But you're right, it is rather odd not having those two with us. I almost miss their terrible jokes and obnoxious laughter." He smirked, shaking his head. "But let's hope they don't find out we went to Hogshead without them. They'll never let us hear the end of it." Sera laughed as they made their way to Hogshead. “True. I can already see Sirius sulking in a corner” James snickered at the thought of Sirius sulking. "I mean, who wouldn't sulk if their best friend snuck off without them? We're probably in for a lecture next time we see them, but until then, let's just have fun." He grinned, opening the door to Hogshead for her. "After you, my lady." You bowed playfully, almost mockingly at his gesture. “Ah, thank you, good sir.” You giggled as you make your way the table near the window where you can see the cozy light illuminating Hogsmeade.

He chuckled, shaking his head at her antics. "Alright, alright, you little minx. Sit down, I'll go order us some firewhiskey and butterbeer. We have to celebrate not getting caught yet, right?" He winked playfully before heading to the bar to order their drinks. You sat down on the wooden chair as you rest your cheeks on your palm and look outside. You frown when you notice a certain red-headed girl with a guy from Ravenclaw that you know. They entered Three Broomsticks together. You looked at James on the counter, hoping he doesn’t see Lily with other man. James returned with their drinks in hand, a smile on his face. "I have good news," he said, setting the drinks on the table. "They actually have Ogden's finest firewhiskey tonight! We're in for a real treat." He grinned, sitting down across from her. Seraphina tried to smile at him, “Oh, that’s great! I hear they’re good!” She said, her voice cheerful, masking the uncertainty of her discovery just now.

James nodded, taking a sip of his firewhiskey. "Yeah, it's definitely some good stuff. You should try it. But, hey," he leaned closer, a hint of concern in his eyes. "Are you alright? You seem a bit...off. Is everything okay?" Seraphina smiled at him. “Yeah, of course. So, tell me about you and Lily. How’d you got the girl when you first dated, huh?” You asked playfully. James's expression shifted, a mixture of pride and embarrassment on his face. "Well, at first, she wanted nothing to do with me. She thought I was an arrogant, pompous jerk." He chuckles, taking another sip of his firewhiskey. "I mean, she wasn't wrong, but I was determined to win her over. So, I spent every waking moment trying to show her the real me. It took a while, but eventually, she saw past my stupid jokes and pranks. She realized that I genuinely cared for her, you know?" He looked at Seraphina, his gaze softening. Sera smiled fondly, despite the ache in her chest. “She’s not wrong, though. You are indeed an arrogant, pompous jerk.” She joked as she took down her drink in one go. “I heard you took her on a private broom ride before she finally agreed to be your girlfriend. How’s that?” Sera chuckled.

James rolled his eyes, playfully hitting her arm. "Oh, come on now, I'm not that bad!"  He laughed. "But yeah, I did take her on a private broom ride. I thought if she could see the world from a different perspective, maybe she'd see me in a different light too. And I guess it worked. We ended up soaring through the sky together, and she finally gave in. It was a pretty magical moment, to be honest." He smiled fondly, recalling the memories from that day. "What about you? Have you ever been on a romantic broom ride?" You scoffed, “No. I can ride a broom alone just fine on my own, thank you very much.” Sera chuckled as she sip on her drink. He raised an eyebrow at her response. "Oh, I see. Independent Seraphina doesn't need a man to take her on a romantic broom ride, huh? That's fine, I'm sure your pride keeps you warm at night." He smirked playfully, taking a sip of his firewhiskey. Sera’s jaw dropped in mocked offense. “I have some people to warm my bed at night, thank you.” Sera giggled. “I bet I can ride the broom better than them, anyway.” Sera’s eyes glint in mischief as she look James straight in the eyes.

James raised an eyebrow, a smirk playing at the corners of his lips. "Is that so? Well, well, well, now you've got my attention. I love a good challenge. Let's put that theory to the test, shall we? I bet you're all talk, no action, though. I've flown enough miles to know that no one rides better than me." He leaned back in his chair, a confident grin on his face. "But if you feel you can prove me wrong, go ahead. We can have a little contest right here and now." Sera waved her hands and murmured “Accio, Nimbus.” Her broomstick came flying straight from the door, stopping on her hands. She looked at James, eyes sparkling with mischief. James laughed at her dramatic entrance, shaking his head in admiration. "Oh, you're on.  I have to warn you though, once I'm on a broom, there's nothing that can stop me. So, ready to lose, Seraphina?" He smirked, playfully challenging her. “Ready to win, James.” Seraphina answered.

Both of them walked outside as they mounted their brooms. With a whistle, both of them kicked from the ground and zoomed through the sky.

As James and Seraphina soared through the sky, a competitive spirit ignited within both of them. James flew with a confidence that could only come from years of experience, executing sharp turns and loops with ease. Seraphina, on the other hand, matched his moves with agility and grace, her focus unwavering as she maneuvered through the air with finesse. The night sky became their playground as they pushed each other to their limits, each aiming to outdo the other in this spontaneous broomstick contest. Seraphina’s laughter echoed as she rode neck to neck with James. Her blonde and wavy hair playing with the wind, her face a little flushed from the alcohol they just had. They both stopped, hovering at the top of the Hogwarts castle. Overseeing everything from below. They paused for a moment, catching their breaths and taking in the breathtaking view. The castle lights twinkled below them, and the moon shone bright, casting a soft glow on everything it touched. They sat there in silence for a few moments, enjoying the peace and tranquility of the night. The cool breeze nipped at their faces, but James found himself getting lost in Seraphina's sparkling green eyes.

“She’s a beauty, isn’t she?” Sera asked as she looked down the castle, each window glows orange from the candles burning inside. James followed her gaze, his expression softening as he looked down at the castle. "Yeah," he mumbled, his voice barely audible above the rustling of the wind. "Hogwarts has always felt like home to me. It's a place I can be myself and just enjoy life without any worries, you know?" He smiled at Seraphina, his eyes gleaming in the moonlight. He felt a sense of comfort and familiarity that he's never experienced before, and it felt oddly soothing. She smiled, emerald eyes glinting with the sight below. “I can’t believe it's our last year here. For seven years, Hogwarts has been a home for most of us.” He nodded in agreement, a hint of sadness in his eyes. "I know what you mean. It's going to be weird once we leave. Hogwarts is more than just a school, it's a part of us. It's where we grew up, where we made our closest friends, where we learned the most important lessons." He looked at Seraphina, his gaze softening. "But we'll always have the memories. And we'll all have each other. That's what matters the most."

“You think you and Lily will get married after we graduate?” Sera asked, not looking away from the view from below. Making sure that James would not see the sadness in her eyes. James' expression turned somber, realizing the weight of what Sera asked. A hint of tension crept into his features, and he looked down at the castle below. "I don't know," he whispered, his voice laced with uncertainty. "Things have been complicated between Lily and me lately, and I can't say for sure what the future holds." He hesitated, unsure of how to answer the question. But he didn't want to lie to Sera. "I care about her, but... I don't know." Sera pursed her lips, her grip on the broom handle, tightening. “James, I have to tell you something.” James's expression turned serious, sensing the gravity of her words. He nodded, his eyes locked on hers, ready to listen intently. "What is it?" He asked, his voice filled with concern. “I…” Sera fumbles on her broom handle. “I… think I saw Lily with some Ravenclaw guy earlier. They entered Three Broomsticks together.”

James' face went pale as he absorbed her words, his stomach feeling like it dropped to the ground. He let out a deep sigh, a mix of emotions flooding his mind. He was hurt, confused, and frustrated all at once. But he refused to let it show, at least not completely. He took a deep breath, forcing himself to be calm despite the storm of feelings inside him. "Are you sure, Sera?" He asked, his voice slightly strained. Seraphina nodded. “I’m sorry, I don’t know how to tell you earlier. I think you should talk to her… maybe he’s just a friend?” James nodded, trying to process everything. He knew he had to talk to Lily, but he couldn't help but feel hurt and confused. "I appreciate you telling me, Sera," he said gratefully. "But I really hope you're wrong about this. I'll talk to Lily and get to the bottom of it. I just need some time to think." He hesitated before continuing. "Can we go back to Hogwarts now? I'm feeling a bit exhausted." Sera nodded briefly. “You can go ahead. I’ll follow after you. I just want to catch some more fresh air.” She tried to smile at him. James gave her a small, worried look, but he didn't pressure her. "Alright," he said softly. "Just don't take too long, okay?" He gave her a reassuring smile before turning his attention back towards Hogwarts. He then maneuvered his broomstick towards the castle.

After a few more minutes, Seraphina got back in the castle. Making her way down a secret passage connecting to a broom shed near the Gryffindor tower. She mumbled the password on the sleeping portrait of the Fat Lady. As she entered the common room, she found Sirius and Remus sitting by the fireplace, immersed in a game on the wizard's chess board. Remus was in the middle of moving his piece into position when Sirius let out a victorious yelp, causing Remus to jump and drop his piece.

"I win!" Sirius exclaimed triumphantly, grinning at Remus.

"It was luck!" Remus protested.

"Oh, you just can't handle it when I'm better than you, Moony," Sirius teased. Sera smiled at the sight of her two friends. She sat beside Sirius and leaned her head on his shoulder. “Did James arrive already?” Sirius nodded without taking his eyes off the chess board. "Yeah, he came back from Hogsmeade a few minutes before you. He went straight to the dorm, though. He looked a bit off, I hope he's all right," he said, moving his knight across the board. Sera nodded. “... and Lily?” Sirius looked up from the chessboard, his gaze shifting to Sera. "She's in the dorm too, but she was acting weird as well." Sirius raised an eyebrow, the concern evident in his eyes. "Now that I think about it, the both of them were acting strange. Are you sure they weren't fighting or something?"

Sera heaved a sigh, refusing to tell them what she knows. It’s not her story to tell, she thought. Remus, who had been silently observing the conversation, studied Sera's expression closely. He noticed her evasiveness and the way she refused to share what she knew. Remus, always perceptive and attuned to the feelings of those around him, could sense that there was something more to the story. "Sera," Remus began, his voice soft yet firm. "If there is something you're not telling us, we won't force you to talk. But we want to be here for you and for James. If there's anything we can do to help, please let us know." Sera shook her head. “I’ll let James tell you what happened. But I’m fine, don’t worry. Just a little tired.” Thankfully, the boys did not pry anymore. 

The next morning, Sera ate alone in the Great Hall, nursing a huge headache from last night’s drinking with James. James enters the Great Hall looking pale and disheveled, his eyes red from lack of sleep. His eyes catch sight of Seraphina sitting alone at the Gryffindor table and he pauses, contemplating whether he should join her or avoid her. After a moment of hesitation, he ultimately decides to approach her. Sera chuckled at the sight of James. “You look like shit.” She said as she sip on her coffee. James laughed weakly, clearly exhausted. "Thanks, Sera. I can always count on you to make me feel good about myself." He gave her a half-hearted smile, taking a seat next to her. "I didn't sleep well last night," he admitted, running a hand through his unruly hair. “Hangover?” Sera asked before pushing a hangover potion towards James. “I can cure that. Heartbreak? Sorry mate, don’t have a potion for that.” She grinned, testing the waters. James looked at the potion and then at Sera, taking it gratefully. "Thanks, Sera. You're a lifesaver." He took a sip, wincing slightly at the taste. "But it's not just the hangover. I stayed up all night thinking about... Lily," he admitted. “Have you talked to her about… last night?” Sera asked, poking and playing with the pancake on her plate.

James sighed, a mixture of frustration and sadness in his tone. "No, I don't know what to say to her. I feel betrayed, but I also want to give her the chance to explain herself. But I can't shake off this feeling in gut telling me to just end things with her." He looked at Sera, a vulnerability in his eyes that was rarely seen by anyone. "What do you think I should do, Sera?" She shrugged, “Give her the benefit of the doubt? Maybe its just a friendly outing too, just like what we did last night, you know? Talk to her James.” James nodded slowly, his expression softening as he let out a deep breath. "You're right, Sera. I've spent all night going back and forth in my head. I need to talk to her and get the truth out of her, one way or another." He reached for a piece of toast and took a bite, his jaw clenching as he thought about the difficult conversation ahead. After breakfast, James went and talked to Lily about what his friend saw last night. As James approached Lily, he could see that she was deep in conversation with one of her friends, giggling and having a good time. He steeled himself for the upcoming conversation and approached her.

"Lily, can I talk to you in private?" He asked, trying to keep his voice even. Lily’s smile faded as she nodded and followed James down the corridor. 

“We were at Hogsmeade last night, me and Sera.” James started. “We were hanging out at the Hogshead when she… she saw you with a Ravenclaw guy. Who is he Lily?” James asked. His voice faltering but he tried his best to steel himself. Lily tried to say something but then eventually failed, her gaze fall to the ground before saying “I’m sorry…” In a small voice. Those words feels like a punch on James’ gut. Those words only confirmed his suspicions. “How… how could you do that, Lily?” He asked in a small voice. Lily started crying silently. “I’m sorry… It just felt like we were falling apart these past few weeks and Gideon has been there for me, comforting me when I needed it.” She answered. James's heart sank. The feeling of betrayal and hurt washed over him like a tidal wave. He had suspected something was wrong, but hearing Lily openly admit to spending time with another guy left him feeling hollow. He took a step back, trying to gather his thoughts and keep his composure. “I’m sorry, James.” Lily added when James didn’t answer.

James felt a lump forming in his throat. He had come into this conversation hoping to hear a simple denial, a reassurance that all was still well between them. But hearing Lily apologize and admitting to needing comfort from another man shattered any hope he had held on to. He took a deep breath, his voice cracking as he spoke. "You're right, Lily. Something has been going wrong for a while now... but I still held on." He clenched his fists tightly. "I just wish you would've told me first. You say you fell out of love... but did you ever really love me at all?" Lily looked up at him, trying to look into his eyes. “Of course I did… I just… I was not sure how to sort my feelings for you and I got scared to end things so I…” Lily’s words trail, not sure how to continue. "You were afraid to end things so you decided to just... cheat on me instead?" James asked incredulously, his voice filled with hurt and disbelief. "That's what this was all about? You couldn't bear to break my heart so you'd rather betray me, huh?" He let out a bitter laugh, shaking his head in despair. "How can you be so selfish, Lily? You didn't just hurt me, you shattered everything I thought we had." Lily’s gaze fell once again, guilt eating her up. “I’m sorry, James.” That was all she managed to say. James's anger and pain continued to eat away at him. "Don't 'I'm sorry' me, Lily. 'I'm sorry' won't fix any of this. You betrayed my trust, shattered my heart and now you want me to just... what? Forgive you?" He laughed bitterly. "Not now, Lily. You know what, I'm done with this. Go find your Ravenclaw guy. I hope he brings you more comfort than I ever did." Lily was about to say something but James was already walking away from her. James stormed away, his heart heavy with pain and his mind consumed with thoughts of betrayal. He struggled to process the emotions raging within him. Deep down, he still cared for Lily deeply and the thought of ending things between them felt like tearing a piece of his very being apart. But the hurt and anger overshadowed any lingering love that remained. He found himself torn between the desire to hold on and the need to let go. His pain and anger were overwhelming. He felt like a boat caught in a storm, rocking back and forth, uncertain of where to sail next.

Three days had passed, Sera turns to a corner from the library. It’s 6PM and she finished studying for the day. She stretched when she bumped into somebody, sending her butt right on the floor. A small laugh erupted from James's lips as he realized he had bumped into Sera. He quickly extended his hand out to help her up. "Oh, sorry about that, I didn't see you there. Are you alright?" Sera accepted his hands, wincing. “Nah, it’s fine, I wasn’t looking too. What’s up? I haven’t seen you for three days already. You good?” She asked as she picks up her books on the ground. James helped her gather up her books, his expression turning somewhat serious. "Hey, could I talk to you for a moment? Something happened, and I need to talk to someone about it." He sounded serious, his usual playful demeanor replaced by a tired and worried expression. Seraphina nodded as she pick the last of her books on the ground. “Yeah, sure. What’s up? Wanna go up to the Astronomy Tower?” James smiled weakly at her suggestion. "Yeah, that sounds good. Let's go there." Together, they made their way to the Astronomy Tower, a sense of anticipation and worry clouding their steps.

When they reached the Astronomy Tower, Sera leaned on the railings. “So…?” James leaned next to her, looking out onto the beautiful view below. The setting sun cast a warm glow over the castle, but the view hardly registered in James's distracted state. After a moment of silence, he finally began speaking, his voice heavy with sadness and regret. "Lily and I... we broke up. I found out she was cheating on me with the Ravenclaw guy you saw at the Hogsmeade... I just can't believe it. I thought we could get through anything as long as we had each other... but she betrayed me." He closed his eyes, the pain still fresh in his heart. Sera’s eyes widen, unsure what to say to her friend “Oh, James… I’m so sorry.” He shook his head, his eyes still closed tightly. "I don't understand why she couldn't just tell me. Did our relationship mean nothing to her? Why did she have to go behind my back and lie to me like that? It hurts, Sera. It hurts so damn much..."

Sera rubbed James’ back to comfort him. “You can cry if it hurts, you know?” At her words, James's shoulders shook slightly, and tears welled up in the corners of his eyes. He tried to compose himself, but the pain was too raw and he couldn't hold it back anymore. A few stray tears rolled down his cheeks as he leaned into Sera's comforting presence. He felt safe and supported, so he let his tears flow freely. Sera’s heart aches for her friend. Sure she like James for a long time now, but she doesn’t want to see the end of his previous relationship like this. More importantly, she doesn’t want to see him hurting. James let himself be vulnerable for a few more moments, allowing his tears to be soothed away by Sera's comforting touch. Eventually, he wiped his eyes and smiled at her appreciatively. "Thank you, Sera. I feel a bit better now." He sighed, leaning back against the railings. "It's just hard to wrap my head around the fact that it's really over. I thought we were going to be together forever, you know?" Sera stared at James, he looked godly in that view. With the fading sunset behind him, his unruly hair playing with the wind, and tears red due to his crying. Sera bit her lips a little before speaking, “well, they say, forever is just a word.” James chuckled softly, a bittersweet smile on his face. "Yeah, I guess 'forever' can be a fleeting concept. But I really thought Lily was it for me, you know? I was prepared to spend the rest of my life with her." He shook his head, staring off into the distance. "I feel so lost right now, like I don't know who I am without her." He turned to look at Sera, his gaze filled with longing and uncertainty.

Sera smiled bitterly at him, “this too shall pass, James.” She said and playfully jabbed James on the arms. “You’ll be okay.” James looked at her with a mixture of sadness and hope, "I hope you're right. It's just... hard to imagine moving on from someone who was such a big part of my life for so long. But I know I have to, I can't keep living in the past. Life goes on, right?" He tried to muster a smile, though it felt forced and shaky. Sera smiled and nodded, “what? Do you want a hug too?” she joked to lighten up the mood. James chuckled weakly, appreciating Sera's attempt to lift his spirits. "Nah, I don't know if my broken heart can handle your fierce displays of affection." He said, a shadow of his usual playful grin returning to his face. Sera chuckled. “You have a weak heart, Mr. Potter.” She joked.

Months have passed, seasons has come and go, it’s time for their N.E.W.T.S. Sera has been studying so much for it, not having time for playing around. As she sat on her designated chair, she looked beside her and whispered to James, who’s now a lot better than from months before, the studying made him forgot about Lily for a while. “You ready?” Sera grinned at him. James looked at Sera with a confident smirk. "Ready to ace these exams? Absolutely. I've been studying hard and I'm determined to nail all the N.E.W.T. questions they throw at us." Sera chuckled as the test papers appeared infront of them. McGonagall spoke “Remember, any form of cheating for this exam will be considered as failure. Do your best and good luck.” She said, signaling for the students to answer the tests. Sera read through the questions carefully and answers it with ease and confidence.

After the exams, students poured out of the Great Hall, chattering about the exams. Seraphina walked out with James, Remus, and Sirius. James yawned, his eyes filled with weariness from the intense exams. "Man, that was intense," he said, rubbing his temples. "But I think I did pretty well. How did you guys find the exams?" Sera stretched her arms “I just wished I have the passing scores to be an Auror.” She grinned. James chuckled, nudging her playfully. "Come on, Sera, I know you did great. You've been studying your ass off. You've got this." He gave her an encouraging smile, his enthusiasm lifting her spirits. She was about to answer him when Lily appeared infront of them. Sirius whistled playfully. “James, can we talk?” lily asked. James paused, his heart skipping a beat as he looked at Lily. He glanced at his friends before nodding reluctantly. "Sure, Lily. We can talk." He gestured for her to step aside, away from their friends. As they walked away, he couldn't help but feel a mix of mixed emotions. 

Sirius’, Remus’, and Sera’s face was grim as they waited for James at the field where they agreed to wait for him. “Do you think they got back together?” She asked the two. Sirius shook his head, a hint of disbelief in his tone. "It can't be, can it? After everything she put him through? I hope James isn't that daft to get back together with her." Remus sighed, “honestly, I can’t believe Lily could do that to him. James deserved better, y’know?” Sirius nodded in agreement. "He deserves so much better. He's too good for her. I just hope he realizes it and doesn't fall back into her trap." He looked at the ground, frustration etched on his features. Sera remained silent as she listen to her friends. 

Eventually, James came, jogging on the way to them. As James approached, his expression was a mix of emotions. His eyes held a glimmer of sadness, but there was also a glimmer of relief in his gaze, like a weight had been lifted off his shoulders. Sirius stepped closer to him, his voice filled with concern. "James, mate, what happened? Are you okay?" Sera remained seated on the grass as she watched the two of them speak, Remus is also silent beside her. James took a deep breath, trying to find the right words. "We talked, and... well, I guess it's officially over now." He couldn't help the hint of a smile that tugged at his lips. "It hurt at first, of course, but now... I feel a sense of freedom, you know? Like a weight has been lifted off my shoulders." He ran his fingers through his hair, his expression a mix of relief and newfound resolve. "I'm going to move on and live my life, do whatever I want, without having to worry about her anymore." Sera smiled at his answer, Remus and Sirius too. “Good for you, James.” She said. James laughed, feeling the support of his friends lifting his spirits even higher. "Thanks, guys. It feels pretty damn good, to be honest. No more drama, no more heartache. Just us, having fun." He grinned, feeling a newfound sense of freedom and excitement.

Seraphina smiled at her friend’s happiness. It’s an achievement for him to finally let go of something that has been hurting him for a long time. Her feelings for him only grow due to admiration, but she doesn’t want to act on it. Not now at least.

[storiesbyjes2g]

3.44 Get your girl

I pissed off rude girl, and that was fun. I saw an old man do a headstand, and that was amazing. To top off an already awesome day, not only did the old man join me for guided meditation but also so many sims wanted to join the class, I had to turn some away! I hated doing that, but it was such a good problem to have. Sims were finally recognizing the benefit of quieting their thoughts and practicing mindfulness, and I loved to see it. But as fate always had it, my good fortune ended. I had a room full of sims who paid me to teach them how to focus and quiet their minds, yet I could not focus. I tried everything, but I just could not get there. Something in my life must not have been in order. Meditation would have been the perfect time to figure it out, but I had a room full of sims waiting for my prompts to guide them. I never liked to half ass things, but I was unable to do my job so I reused the clouds prompt again to get me through class. When it was over, I went to the sauna to relax and figure out why I couldn't focus. At first, I thought maybe it was this business with Yasmine coming back to haunt me, but I had already squashed that. I combed over everything and still could not figure it out, so I stopped trying. Sometimes I stressed myself out trying to solve things when what I really needed to do was relax, so that was exactly what I did. I closed my eyes, leaned back, and emptied my mind. A while later, someone joined me in the sauna and then another, so I figured it was time to leave. As soon as I stood up, it hit me. I had unfinished business and left the spa immediately to make things right with Maira.

She answered the door with the blankest of expressions.

"Hey..." I said uncomfortably.

"What do you want, Luca?"

Ouch.

"Look...I'm sorry for popping up like this. I know it's late, but can we talk?"

She nodded, let me in, but stood at the door as if she were prepared to throw me out if I said the wrong thing.

"I feel like I upset you, and that was not my intention."

She gestured toward the couch, finally, and we sat. I was going to continue with my apology, but she interrupted me.

"When you said I was your friend... That night...the fire...I know you felt something. How could you not?"

So we were going there, huh? I tried to bury those feelings, but maybe I was ready to talk about it with her. I'd been confessing a lot of that deep, hidden stuff to myself lately. Maybe this won't be too hard.

"I did," I said. "But... Things have been really complicated for me...in that way."

"Complicated how?"

I took a deep breath.

"I like you, Maira. I do. But I..."

I felt things slowly going off the rails, and I hadn't even said anything yet, so I took a different approach, hoping things would flow better.

"You're beautiful..."

Her eyes opened wide in surprise.

"Me?"

It was my turn to be surprised.

"You're kidding, right?"

"What? I don't get too many compliments like that. Most guys I dealt with were fans of my ass."

I couldn't help it, but I let out a tiny chuckle. Maybe it was the way she said it.

"I, uhhh...I will admit to also being a fan, heh. But I'm not just talking about your face. You're beautiful inside, too. If someone were to hold a SimRay to my head and say I had to get married right away or I'd die, you would be one of the women at the top of my list."

"Aww! Really?"

"Yeah... I said it was complicated because I feel that way about you...and someone else, to be honest. But I'm still afraid to make a move. My parents have been divorced my whole life, basically. I didn't have many examples of healthy, thriving relationships growing up. I still don't. And even now, as an adult, I keep learning things about my parents that make me even less sure about if I'm cut out for this. I don't want to end up like them, so it's easier to keep everyone at a distance until I figure myself out. But that's gotten harder and harder to do the more I get to know you all. I don't want to mess up."

She sat there, still listening, so I went on.

"When I said you were my friend, I wasn't trying to say that's how I saw you and we had zero chance of anything else. I was simply stating you are my friend, and I would always be here for you."

She nodded slowly.

"I knew your parents were divorced, but I didn't know you were still being affected by it. I guess it all makes sense now."

"I'm sorry if it felt like I was leading you on, or whatever. That wasn't my intention. I've been thinking about things a lot lately and trying to remember my parents' problems had nothing to do with me and I don't have to do what they did. So I've decided to give dating a try. Heh, according to my Dad, you and I may have been doing that this whole time. I don't want to be scared anymore. But I also don't want anything serious right now. I do want to find someone I'd be willing to get serious with, so...yeah. I'm dating."

"That's very good to know," she said. "I kinda feel the same way. I wasn't upset because I thought we were going somewhere because I'm not looking for anything too serious right now, either. I was upset because I thought you friend zoned me, and it just made me think about all the other guys I'd dealt with. I thought you were different...someone I'd like to be with when I am ready. But in that moment, I thought you were just like everyone else, taking what they want and throwing me away when it was convenient for them. That upset me because I just want to meet a good guy for once. So...yeah...I'm sorry I thought you were a llama snot."

I hadn't heard llama snot since we were kids. It made me smile.

"I'm sorry you've met so many douche bags."

She shrugged.

"You win some, you lose some. Speaking of losing... If you like this other girl, I think you should go for it and forget about me."

My stomach rolled.

"What? No. I could never forget about you. You're one of my best friends!"

"I don't mean cut me out of your life. I just mean, if you're waffling between her and me, choose her."

A tiny part of me was relieved she had taken herself out of the proverbial race because, if it came down to Maira and Sophia, I honestly didn't know how I'd choose. But I still didn't want to lose her. True, we were just friends and could remain friends. But the part of me that wanted more than that was sad.

"Why?" I asked.

"Because, Luca! I know you say you're scared, and you think you're not ready, but you are! And you want it! I can see it in your eyes and in the way you behave. Just be with her. You'll be fine. I'm nowhere near ready for what you want, and I'm sorry if I lead you to believe I am. My family... I love them, but they are driving me nuts right now. My parents just had another baby, and my sister is pregnant again. And top it all off, my brother just got married."

"Who married him?" I asked in disgust.

She laughed because she knew I couldn't stand that guy.

"Malia."

My eyes widened that time.

"Malia Gallardo?"

The girl I used to like who liked my sister instead of me?

"Yep! They're ummm...they're interesting together... But anyway, with all these babies and marriages going on, everyone's looking at me like 'well???' and tapping on their fictitious watches. I just don't want any of that. At least not now. Maybe never! I don't know right now. But what I do know is I'm going at this much slower than you are, and I don't want to hold you back. So...go get your girl. And before you ask, yes we're still friends, yes, I want to see you from time to time, and yes, when you're ready, I'd like to meet her."

I didn't know what to say or even what to feel. What did she see in me that told her I was ready for a serious relationship? I wanted to see it too. I should have felt liberated, but I was still a little scared. Of what? I didn't know. Fear of the unknown, probably. I suppose that was healthy. Still, I wasn't prompted to go home and call Sophia.

[mimisempai]

This unavoidable between us - Chapter 7/8

Chapter Summary

Last day… last night… last everything.

They tries to make the better of it.

On Ao3

Rating G - 2634 words

Masterpost here

Day 6

Sky Garden - booked just for us

Dinner in a romantic restaurant

Dinner in our suite - formal wear

Opening his eyes, Crowley saw the note on Aziraphale's nightstand. He was secretly relieved to see that Aziraphale had chosen the privacy of their suite for their last night together.

Their last night.

Crowley's throat tightened at the words.

Yesterday evening, he'd been under the impression that Aziraphale wanted to open up, but this morning...

This morning, Aziraphale had been up for a long time, judging by the cold space next to Crowley.

Once again, he was surprised at how quickly he'd grown attached to the man and felt as if he'd known him all his life.

But tomorrow they will part.

He found Aziraphale leaning against the balcony railing, a steaming cup of coffee in his hands, gazing out at the London skyline.

"Good morning."

Crowley's voice was still heavy with sleep and he stretched as Aziraphale turned and came to him. Crowley leaned forward and kissed him gently.

"Good morning, Anthony, did you sleep well?"

"Like a baby and you?"

Aziraphale replied with a smile, "Not too bad. But let's leave that aside. I've already had my breakfast while waiting for you to wake up, I had to take care of some extra things. You can have it here if you like, and then we'll get ready for the Sky Garden. The taxi will be waiting for us as soon as we're ready. Since I wanted us to be comfortable, the agency managed to reserve the top floor just for us."

"Wow, that's a lot of information before my first cup of coffee. But it looks really great."

Crowley sensed a certain restlessness in Aziraphale, but most of all a slight distance. However, he didn't insist and began his breakfast.

Aziraphale sat down across from him, poured himself another cup of coffee, and leafed through the newspaper. After a few minutes, the uneasiness dissipated and their complicity returned.

Aziraphale made Crowley laugh more than once with his caustic comments on what he read in the paper, and Crowley was still laughing when he finished dressing a few moments later. When he emerged from his room, Aziraphale was waiting for him in the hallway.

He held out his hand, the gesture still giving Crowley the same warm feeling, and asked, "Ready to go?"

Crowley nodded, "Ready."

Forty minutes later, they were standing in front of the imposing building.

Again it was a new experience for Crowley, but this time also for Aziraphale, which didn't displease Crowley. 

Twenty minutes later, they were on the top floor, in the garden reserved for them, and apart from the security guards, it was really just them. The agency had really taken care of everything.

"Wow," Crowley marveled as he took in the view. 

They stood on the terrace. 

At that moment, Aziraphale didn't know what was more beautiful to him, the joy on Crowley's face or the scenery. He tried to compose himself, he had things to say and he had to say them before he lost his nerve.

This morning he'd thought clearly and decided not to tell Anthony after all. He didn't want the same sword of Damocles hanging over him to spoil this day. Sure, there was that of their separation, but that seemed less difficult for Anthony to live with than the fact that Aziraphale would be no more the next day. He took Anthony by the arm and pulled him a little closer to the railing before turning him toward it.

"Anthony..."

"Yes?"

Crowley was surprised by the hesitant look on Aziraphale's face. It was an expression he had never seen on him before. In fact, his eyes were almost pleading.

"I want you to listen to me carefully and let me finish what I have to say without interrupting. Please, Anthony, this is really important."

Crowley saw in his eyes and in his demeanor that it really was important to him. So he replied softly, touching Aziraphale's forearm, "I promise I'll listen to you, Aziraphale."

Aziraphale took a small envelope from the inside pocket of his jacket, placed it in Crowley's hands, and clasped his hands over his own.

"In this envelope is the address of a notary and a code that you must give him along with your ID. You will have to wait 48 hours from the moment we separate. He will transfer a certain amount of money to your account, which I think will allow you to live decently for a while, and especially to provide for Muriel and anything else you might need."

"Aziraphale... no... I can't!" protested Crowley, unable to help himself.

"Anthony, you promised me," Aziraphale said, putting a finger over Crowley's mouth.

He continued, "What I want you to do is tell the agency that you don't want to be paid for the time we spent together. I guarantee you'll lose nothing."

"But why would you..."

"I don't want what happened between us for six days to stick in your mind as a business transaction. Even if that's what made our meeting possible in the first place, I'm sure for myself and for you that we're far beyond that. I don't want you to remember us as a job. Something you did for money. I need to be sure you accept that, Anthony."

Crowley, though perplexed, understood that this was something truly vital to Aziraphale. Therefore, even though he did not feel worthy of such kindness and generosity, he knew he would accept it because he did not want to think of the two of them as an exchange of goods.

"Okay, okay, Aziraphale, I accept. I promise. Thank you." He didn't know what else to say to express his gratitude, so he cupped Aziraphale's face in his hands and they shared a kiss full of intense emotion, full of sadness and something else, but neither of them wanted to risk naming it.

"I'm not finished," Aziraphale said, taking a step back. "Because I want you to know everything about me, but I can't tell you now, the notary will tell you the part of my story you don't know. I just hope you don't hate me in the end." 

Crowley looked into his eyes, wanting to convince him of his sincerity, "Aziraphale, I know we've only known each other for six days, but there's one thing I feel deep down inside, and that's that you're incapable of willful harm. So I promise you that whatever happens, I'll stay objective and think back on this week and what I know about you before I react negatively."

"Thank you, Anthony. That means a lot."

Silence fell between them as they looked at the view before them for long minutes. 

Crowley wondered what this heavy secret was that kept Aziraphale from fully opening up. He sensed it was the same secret that made their separation inevitable. He wondered again if he shouldn't reveal to Aziraphale that they were mates and he was about to open his mouth to speak when Aziraphale cleared his throat. 

"Come on, let's go! To take our minds off things, we'll go shopping 'Pretty Woman' style."

Crowley laughed softly, "You mean we're going to spend an obscene amount of money?"

"Yes, we are! They won't let us go back!"

He took Crowley by the hand and they walked off, laughing.

At the foot of the Sky Garden, they hailed a cab to take them to the best tailors Aziraphale knew. After many trials, from the most austere to the most extravagant, they settled on a suit of Italian wool, subtly accented with a tartan print, anthracite tending toward blue as the light changed, and a classic white shirt for Aziraphale, and for Crowley, the same suit but in black and red. The salesman had raved about how great they looked together. 

They had their suits delivered and took a taxi back to the hotel.

Arriving at their room door, they reluctantly let go of each other's hands, as if they couldn't bear to be apart for more than a few seconds. 

No doubt the feeling was heightened by the inevitability of their separation.

Aziraphale rose on tiptoe and kissed Crowley on the cheek before whispering in his ear, "Come see me around six o'clock. You should take a nap to get your strength back, you're going to need it."

At those words and Aziraphale's devouring gaze, Crowley felt a shiver of desire run down his spine.

Aziraphale left and returned to his room, Crowley following. Once in his room, he took a long shower and decided to follow Aziraphale's advice and take a nap.

He was awakened by the bedroom phone.

Still asleep, he picked up the receiver, "Yes?"

"Mr. Crowley, this is the front desk, your suit has arrived. May we take it to your room?"

"Yes, thank you."

With the suit delivered and the appointed time with Aziraphale approaching, Crowley decided to get ready. There was something about wearing tailored clothes. Crowley liked to look stylish, but as he checked his reflection in the mirror one last time, he smiled, realizing that there was his style and there was style.

The smile was about to turn into a sad one, so he shook his head as if to rid himself of his gloomy thoughts. 

He would enjoy every moment with Aziraphale. He had promised himself that, and he would keep that promise.

He would have no regrets.

Aziraphale, meanwhile, stared thoughtfully out the window, unable to see the view.

He wondered when and how THIS would happen the next day.

He hoped with all his heart that it would be after they parted.

Feeling that he was starting to spiral and that this would distract him from the evening he wanted Anthony and himself to remember, he forced himself to breathe slowly to calm down.

He remembered all the moments he had spent with Anthony, who had given him more happiness and joy in a week than in a lifetime.

He turned as he heard the object of his thoughts enter the room and immediately gasped. 

Anthony was absolutely stunning. The suit looked as if it had been sewn to him.

The other man gave him a broad smile and said without hesitation, "Do you like what you see? Because I can tell you that I like what I see. A lot."

Crowley moved closer again and took Aziraphale in his arms for a deep kiss. Aziraphale wrapped his arms around Crowley's waist and pressed himself against him, letting him know how much he loved what he saw.

When they pulled away to catch their breath, Aziraphale whispered, "You're beautiful."

Then he led his blushing lover to the beautifully set table. Crowley took the time to look at everything and imprint it on his memory. He didn't want to forget a single detail. So that he could remember this evening as something special.

The hotel staff had really outdone themselves. A white damask tablecloth, dried rose petals scattered here and there. A few well-placed candles. Fine china and crystal glasses. Decoration worthy of a dream.

He looked up at Aziraphale, who was staring at him with something unfathomable in his eyes.

They sat down, ate, and talked as usual. The only difference was the tension caused by the awareness of what would happen after dinner. Caused by all those moments when each of them sought contact, when every movement was an excuse for a caress or a touch. Caused by the burning glances they exchanged.

But when Aziraphale, enjoying his dessert, let out an indecent moan, Crowley couldn't hold back. Desire overcame his fear of ridicule. He grabbed Aziraphale's hand that was not holding his spoon, kissed the palm and said in a tone that left no doubt as to his intentions, "Wouldn't you like some more dessert?"

To which Aziraphale replied with burning eyes, fully aware of the kind of dessert Crowley was offering, "Oh, if you knew Anthony..." then stood, walked around the table and took Crowley's hands to help him stand.

He then took his face in his hands and kissed him. Crowley, responding to the kiss, pulled him to the bed.

After that, they needed no more words, not when Aziraphale leaned over and kissed him, and Crowley wrapped his arms around his neck to bring him even closer, deepening the kiss.

As they parted, Aziraphale's hands moved, stroking Crowley's chest, but there was a hesitation in him that hadn't been there in their previous intimate moments. Crowley frowned and asked in a soft, encouraging voice, "What are you nervous about?"

Aziraphale replied with a note of uncertainty in his voice, "I'm not sure how you want to...be with me."

Crowley traced the contours of Aziraphale's face with his fingertips and said gently, "Aziraphale, I'm happy to be with you in any way. I want you to be comfortable, but as long as we're together and enjoying each other, that's all I care about. I just want you. Any way you want me." 

Aziraphale inhaled sharply before crushing his lover's lips in a kiss that barely contained his passion, and Crowley found himself transfixed by the man's touch. He gripped Aziraphale's shoulders and arched his back at the touch, his body overwhelmed with lust.

"I want you now, Anthony," Aziraphale said firmly, making his choice clear.

Crowley's smile widened, and breathed, "Then take me, take what's yours."

Aziraphale moaned and kissed him again as Crowley sensed that the excitement sweeping through him was even more intense than the other times. It wasn't just the lovemaking, nor Aziraphale's adoring looks and touches. It was their bond. He could feel it vibrating between them, and it was the most intimate and intense thing he'd ever experienced. He felt that Aziraphale was inside him in a way that went deeper than just making love. It felt like something beautiful, something more, as they were no longer unable to think, as they each lost themselves in the pleasure.

Late, much later, Crowley laid panting on the bed, trying to catch his breath and categorize everything he'd just experienced. Aziraphale lay on top of him, his own breathing irregular, matching that of his lover. 

They remained like this for several minutes.

Aziraphale was as fulfilled as he had ever been. He'd seen all of Anthony, felt all of him, been in every part of him, it gave Aziraphale a sense of lightness and wonder.

He turned to Anthony, who looked at him with an endearing smile, tinged with something new, something beyond comprehension.

His lover brushed his sweat-damp hair back and planted on his lips a lazy kiss, sonn interrupted by a yawn.

As he curled up against Aziraphale, Anthony said softly, "For this wonderful experience alone, I could never remember you with anything but the utmost affection. Thank you, Aziraphale." 

Aziraphale kissed him tenderly. 

"Oh Anthony, you were perfect. I thank you for this incredible gift."

They remained entwined, and little by little Aziraphale felt his lover's head grow heavier, his breathing more regular and deeper, and as he drifted off to sleep, Anthony murmured against Aziraphale's chest: "I love you.... "

Aziraphale's heart leapt in his chest. 

He squeezed his eyelids with all his might to hold back the tears that were rising, but couldn't help whispering into Anthony's hair, "I love you."

All he received in reply was his lover's steady breathing.

Aziraphale wanted to stay awake, to experience the perfect happiness he'd just seen for as long as possible, but fatigue was the stronger force and his eyelids slowly closed without him being able to fight it.

The last thing he saw was the time on his alarm clock.

00h01

He murmured to himself "Happy birthday..." 

_________

Still not beta'd

Still not my native language

Still hoping you'll enjoy this story  🥰

Still thanking you for bearing with me 😝

Ineffable fan fictions Masterpost : here

[tonydaddingham]

Wait wait wait, so I literally had an epiphany.

We all know that A&C's love story, especially in s2 was inspired by Pride and Prejudice and all that, okay, good. And we all know Aziraphale misunderstood the purpose of the balls in Jane Austen's stories. Yep, yep...

So, if we look at what happened:

They had the ballroom scene where it might seem romantic what's happening but there's actually a lot of tension building up between the two protagonists (with Aziraphale just trying to deny anything that might go wrong and Crowley being desperate in trying to protect Aziraphale and also make him realize there's a real danger outside);

We had the failed proposal - the scene in which it's very clear the two characters are undeniably attracted to each other (I mean, we did get the Big Damn Kiss), but the way they say things to each other they completely misunderstand each other and leave thinking they were on completely opposite sides;

And I do feel as if Elizabeth's judgement of Darcy is still somehow applicable to Aziraphale's of Crowley, not entirely, but maybe Aziraphale does think that Crowley is wrong for his way of thinking...

But then what does Elizabeth realize? She gains knowledge about Mr. Whickam and Darcy's relationship and why Darcy was actually in the right to be cold towards Mr. Whickam and Elizabeth and her family greatly suffers due to this misjudgement - as in, Aziraphale realizes why Crowley was vehemently denying the idea of going back to Heaven, why Heaven is so fucked up as an institution.

And, despite all that transpired between them before, Darcy still goes out to help Elizabeth, he does everything only for her. Just like I might think that although Crowley is deeply hurt, he still will help Aziraphale in trying to stop the Second Coming, for humanity's sake, yes, because he loves it, but also mostly for Aziraphale's sake and safety.

And then, what happens next? Elizabeth defiantly tells Lady Catherine that she can't promise not to marry her nephew - although no proposal has yet to be made, she has no security in the fact that Darcy even still cares about her. She does find out that he helped her family's situation, but she has no actual sign he might ever come back to her; for all she knows, the entire thing with Darcy is a "what could have been" - just like Aziraphale, who, although knows that Crowley did feel the same before he left, and might see that he still helps him, I'm sure will still feel that there's no way Crowley still wants what they had before and if he will ever want him back.

But still, Elizabeth stands for herself and for what she could have had with Darcy, and shoos Lady Catherine out of her home - just like I feel that it's Aziraphale's time to be the one to stand his ground to Heaven.

And Darcy finds out about this - just like Crowley, I feel, will hear or see this, in any way, he will know about this.

And Darcy comes to her in the middle of the morning and tells Elizabeth that all he's done, he's done for her... and he's not sure if she wants him, and he'll let her be if she doesn't, but he still feels just like he's done all that time ago and he still wants her to be by his side for the rest of his life - just like I presume that Crowley will come to Aziraphale and tell him that although there was so much hurt and all these complications, his feelings have not changed and he still wants to spend eternity with Aziraphale.

And this works, in my opinion, with the fact that I think Aziraphale needs to initiate whatever loving gesture comes next, a confession, a kiss, both, whatever - because Elizabeth is the one (in the movie at least), to take his hand and kiss it.

So I think, since this is the missing piece, this is how it might go about in season 3 for the two of them - between all the chaos of the Second Coming, of course.

hello, P&P anon!!!✨ oooooh i really like this! especially your assessment of the 'second half' of the P&P story, and where that might parallel how aziraphale and crowley's relationship develops in s3!!! on the whole, i do try to remain reserved in how far i take intertextuality as the blueprint for s3 speculation (ie. i don't think it will be a complete copy-and-paste job) but i think you're spot-on in that there might be some important mirrored points between the two, when it comes to s3!

so re: lizzy learning the circumstances behind darcy's actions that make her reconsider her previously building prejudice - and associated hatred - of him. im in two minds as to whether we're going to see a straightforward parallel of this where crowley is concerned. ie: is aziraphale going to learn something about crowley that makes aziraphale completely reassess how he previously saw him? and will that change be positive?

ive toyed with whether crowley's fall was, in part, of crowley's own making - and whether or not he was entirely 'innocent' in the matter (my bet is currently placed on that he wasn't, not entirely. that's not to say that "he must have done an evil thing and absolutely deserves what he got blah blah blah" - that's not at all what im saying - but that it might, for all the right and wrong reasons, have been a consequence of crowleys own voluntary actions). in either case though, whether or not some proportion of accountability does sit with crowley for his own fall, i think aziraphale is going to learn the full scope of it, and it will affect how he views crowley. this may be positive or negative, but regardless i don't think it's under any doubt that he will still love and want to be with crowley anyway (but because im a glutton for angst and Situations, id argue that negative might be more powerful).

also, whilst i don't think either party were completely at fault, nor indeed faultless, for how things unfolded at the end of s2, there's no doubt that what aziraphale said and did deeply hurt crowley. in this respect, i agree that whilst he may have some reservations in helping aziraphale with whatever needs to be fixed in s3, he will do it anyway. perhaps it will be out of love for aziraphale, out of love for humanity and wanting to protect it, or even out of his own self-interest - likely a combination of all three - and perhaps it will be pre- or post-s2-resolution-talk, but either way, i don't think, at the very least, that it makes sense even narratively for crowley to excuse himself from the plot of s3 entirely, whatever his motivations might end up being. might eat my words, though.

as for a lady catherine parallel scene - now that im thinking about it (and so, what follows is a stream of consciousness - apologies), do we fully know or understand what heaven's stance is on an angel and a demon being together? and by heaven, i mean the archangels? i know there seems like there's an obvious answer to that, but. hardly anyone batted an eyelid at the prospect of gabriel and beelzebub? they literally stood there, holding hands, and all that either side could spat about was whether heaven or hell would be the lucky buggers to punish them for desertion... not specifically because they fell in love with the opposition? at least, that's how it now seems to me?

of course, if we hark back to ep2, the archangels don't appear to actually recognise or understand the concept of love, but i think, even so, that they can't refute what is literally right in front of them. at worst, they seem a little disgusted and perplexed (ie. michael's utterly baffled reaction), but a) noone tries to actively stop them leaving, and b) there is otherwise next to no reaction to it? metatron may be an entirely different matter, that is true, and is probably The Only Opinion that currently counts in heaven... but if we're speculating about metatron's motives for a sec; even if he was trying to split aziraphale and crowley apart, it seems more likely that it's due to the power they seem to wield together? not necessarily because of some preconceived, moralistic taboo on angels and demons falling in love? idk im just sounding something out here - but if these are in fact beings that are (currently) incapable of love, would they even consider it worth their notice? or has that all changed because of gabriel and beelzebub? thoughts thoughts thoughts

in any case, i don't think that it will change that aziraphale will likely make a conscious choice in wanting to be with crowley - just that it might not be in defiance of heaven that he makes that choice? perhaps, in the end, not in defiance of anything at all? and im sure there will be an undercurrent where both of them perhaps wonder or fear that 'us' is truly broken and unsalvageable (obviously it isn't, idiots - you're getting your mf cottage). lastly though, i think you're absolutely right, in that it will likely be aziraphale to make the first approach and overtures to healing that rift, not just because of the parallel to P&P, but because, to my mind, the narrative and aziraphale's continuing character development would demand it... crowley, imo, has a slightly different journey ahead of him.

really, really liked this ask, thank you so much!!!✨💕

[timeless-fanfic]

Unseen Paths Series

Chapter 5: Heartfelt Discussions

Word Count: 1385

Simon Z x Reader

The day had been long, and the evening air was still warm as the sun dipped below the horizon. The disciples had settled into their usual routine around the campfire, but Simon’s mind was far from at ease. He had been stewing over the situation for days, ever since learning the truth about (Y/N)’s family ties. His conversations with her had become more strained, the weight of unspoken words growing heavier between them. He knew he couldn’t avoid the inevitable conversation with James any longer.

Simon glanced over at James, who was sitting a little apart from the others, quietly sharpening a knife. He seemed relaxed, his focus on the task at hand, but Simon could sense the underlying tension that always lingered between them now.

Taking a deep breath, Simon stood and made his way over to James, his heart pounding in his chest. He wasn’t sure how this conversation would go, but he knew it had to happen. He needed James to understand.

“James,” Simon said quietly as he approached, standing just outside the circle of light cast by the fire.

James looked up, his expression neutral, though his eyes flickered with curiosity. “Simon.”

“Can we talk?” Simon asked, shifting his weight awkwardly from one foot to the other. “Privately?”

James studied him for a moment before nodding. He stood and gestured for Simon to follow him away from the others, toward the edge of the camp where the shadows of the trees provided a semblance of privacy.

Once they were far enough from the rest of the group, James stopped and turned to face Simon, crossing his arms over his chest. “What’s on your mind?”

Simon hesitated for a moment, the words catching in his throat. How was he supposed to explain everything he’d been feeling? He wasn’t even sure where to begin. But he knew he had to be honest—James deserved that much.

“I... I care about her,” Simon said finally, his voice low but steady. “About (Y/N).”

James didn’t react at first. His expression remained unreadable, his eyes fixed on Simon with an intensity that made Simon feel like he was being scrutinized from the inside out.

“I know,” James said after a long pause, his voice calm but guarded.

Simon blinked in surprise. “You know?”

James let out a quiet sigh, his gaze softening just slightly. “It’s been obvious for a while, Simon. You and (Y/N)... the way you look at each other, the way you talk. I’d have to be blind not to notice.”

Simon felt a surge of relief, though it was quickly tempered by the uncertainty of where this conversation was headed. He had half-expected James to be angry, to be defensive, but his calm demeanor made Simon feel both reassured and on edge.

“I didn’t mean for it to happen like this,” Simon admitted, running a hand through his hair. “I didn’t know she was your sister at first. And when I found out... it just made everything more complicated.”

James nodded slowly, his expression thoughtful. “I can see that.”

There was a long pause between them, the only sound the distant crackling of the campfire and the soft chirping of crickets in the underbrush. Simon shifted uncomfortably, unsure of how to continue. He had rehearsed this conversation in his head a dozen times, but now that he was here, standing in front of James, the words didn’t come as easily as he’d hoped.

“I just...” Simon began, his voice quiet. “I wanted to talk to you. Man to man. As her brother and as my friend. Because this isn’t just a passing thing for me. I care about her. A lot.”

James regarded him for a moment, his expression unreadable. Then he let out a long breath, uncrossing his arms and rubbing the back of his neck. “I appreciate you coming to me, Simon. Really, I do.”

Simon felt a small glimmer of hope at James’s words, but it was quickly tempered by the serious look on his face.

“But you have to understand,” James continued, his tone soft but firm, “she’s not just my sister. She’s my younger sister. I’ve looked out for her my whole life, and so has John. We’re protective of her because we love her, and we don’t want to see her get hurt.”

Simon nodded, his throat tightening at the thought. The last thing he wanted was to hurt (Y/N). He would never forgive himself if he did.

“I don’t want to hurt her either,” Simon said earnestly. “That’s the last thing I want.”

James held his gaze for a long moment, as if searching for something in Simon’s eyes. Then, slowly, he nodded.

“I believe you,” James said quietly. “I believe that you care about her. And I know you’re a good man, Simon. But this... this is going to be difficult.”

Simon swallowed hard, the weight of James’s words settling heavily on his shoulders. He knew what was coming next—he had been dreading it, but he couldn’t avoid it.

“John,” Simon said, his voice barely above a whisper.

James’s expression tightened slightly, a flicker of frustration crossing his face. “Yeah. John.”

Simon sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. “He’s not going to be happy about this, is he?”

James let out a quiet laugh, though there was no humor in it. “That’s an understatement. John’s... he’s not like me. He feels things more intensely, and when it comes to (Y/N), he’s always been the most protective. You saw how he reacted when he first started noticing you two together.”

Simon grimaced, remembering the cold glares and the barely veiled hostility in John’s voice every time he caught Simon looking at (Y/N). It had been uncomfortable, to say the least, and Simon knew it was only going to get worse once John found out the truth.

“I don’t want to cause a rift between you and your brother,” Simon said quietly. “But I also don’t want to lie about how I feel.”

James sighed, leaning against a nearby tree. “I know, Simon. And honestly, I don’t want there to be a rift either. But this is going to be tough. You’re going to have to be patient with John. He’s not going to like it, but if you’re serious about (Y/N), you’re going to have to prove it to him.”

Simon nodded, his resolve hardening. He had expected this. John’s disapproval didn’t scare him—at least, not enough to make him walk away. He was serious about (Y/N), and if that meant facing John’s wrath, then so be it.

“I’ll prove it,” Simon said firmly. “I’ll show him that I’m serious. That I care about her.”

James gave him a small, approving nod, though there was still a hint of uncertainty in his eyes. “I hope you do, Simon. Because if you hurt her...”

“I won’t,” Simon interrupted, his voice filled with quiet determination. “I won’t hurt her, James. You have my word.”

James stared at him for a moment longer, then sighed, pushing himself away from the tree. “I believe you, Simon. But it’s not my approval you need to worry about. It’s John’s.”

Simon nodded, grateful for James’s understanding but fully aware of the challenge that lay ahead. “Thank you, James. For listening. For understanding.”

James gave him a tight smile, though his eyes remained serious. “Just... be careful, Simon. You’re not just dealing with my brother. You’re dealing with my sister too. And her heart.”

The next few days were a delicate balancing act for Simon. He kept his distance from (Y/N), not wanting to provoke John’s suspicions any further. But every time he saw her, every time their eyes met across the camp, he felt that same pull. It was getting harder and harder to ignore.

James had been true to his word—he hadn’t interfered, but Simon could tell he was watching closely, silently assessing Simon’s actions. And then there was John, whose protective glares seemed to grow more intense with each passing day.

Simon knew that eventually, the truth would come out. And when it did, he would have to face John’s wrath head-on.

But for now, he focused on the promise he had made to James. He would prove his intentions, no matter how long it took.