#i should be sleeping but i answered this instead

[damn-stark]

Chapter 22 Hanging tree medley

Chapter 22 of Moonlight

A/N- ;) Closer and closer to our boy Cregan

Warning- VIOLENCE, GRUESOME DEATH, swearing, talks of pregnancy, and blood, angst!!, fluff, SPOILERS FOR FUTURE EVENTS OF HOTD, USING FIRE AND BLOOD, long chapter.

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

Episode/Pages- 462-463

(If you want to be tagged let me know)

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*3 DAYS LATER*

Dull blackened walls. Leaking roof. Rain, rain, and more stupid rain for 3 days!

Besides, seeing Alys for breakfast, lunch, and dinner all that you have is stupid dull walls, a leaking roof, and rain! All because of Aemond! All because he’s under some stupid mind trip! You don’t know how much longer you can take it, you don’t want to stay trapped in the same stupid four walls or you’ll go mad! You need to get out, you desire it with every fiber of your being, but there’s no way out besides the front door and that’s heavily guarded.

All that you have as an alternative instead is staying busy inside your chamber while it’s day. Yet when you’re awake you think of what Aemond did and tears escape your eyes, so you sleep. Sleep and dream apparently.

Of what? You don’t know, but it’s clear though. You’re in some unknown house with the sun casting through a window, looking out at a cobbled street, and a clean and beautiful white house. You want to feel the sun on your skin after being stuck under gloomy skies for so long, but ‘tis a dream. You can only see the sun dancing on your fingertips.

“Laenor.”

You freeze with your hand reaching for the beam of light and hold your breath as if any slight movement that you make will make this dream disappear.

“Stop! What are you doing?! You know you can’t go!”

The voice is familiar, but no matter how hard you try to connect it to a memory of someone, you’re unable to find it in your mess of a mind.

Footsteps quickly approach soon thereafter though, but you remain frozen. Even more so as you wonder if what you’re dreaming of isn’t some dream at all, but something made by Alys. A vision of the past foretold in a dream.

“You can’t stop me Qarl,” a different voice counters in a faltering sharp voice. And this voice, unlike the other one, is easy to connect to a person. This voice…belongs to your father. You can’t forget it no matter how much you have tried—“I need to go. I am going to see her,” you hear your father add before you see his figure in the corner of your eyes as he approaches the front door.

You want to look, you want to see him, and you know you will because this dream is too clear, too vivid for it to be a figment of the inner workings of your mind, but the best you can do is lower your hand back to your side and let out a shaky breath.

You can’t look, not even as another pair of footsteps quickly make their way over before slamming the door shut.

“What if you are caught, huh?” Qarl, the man with the voice you can now identify, argues. “Do you think that 5 years is enough for people to forget how you look?”

“I don’t…” your father trails off and you hear his feet shift against the wooden panels. You think that he’s going to follow up with something quickly, but the silence lingers, making you grow insatiably curious to the point you slowly turn and finally see him; it’s the side of his face, but it’s him and he’s so much thinner, he has eye bags, and sunken in cheeks. He almost looks sickly. Is he?

“I don’t need to make some big public announcement,” your father's voice quivers. “Qarl, I just need to see her. It’s been five years, she should have returned from Winterfell already, meaning she’s in King’s Landing, which leaves me the perfect opportunity to see her without getting caught.”

“That’s if you can even get near, it’s been five years, Laenor. She’s changed, the girl you knew is gone. What if it’s not possible to see her?” He queries and lifts his brows to press him to answer, but your father just scoffs and lets a faint smile appear on his face.

“I do not care if she’s changed,” he retorts and lets his bag slip from his arm. “I welcome it. I just need to see her, Qarl. I’m dying and all that occupies my mind is her. I…dream of her. She fills my every thought. Her. My daughter. My little girl.”

His words are simple. They’re so simple, but oh do they have a way to puncture your chest and make it ache. No matter how upset you want to be over the choices he made, at this very moment as you hear him, as you see him desperately pleading, you can’t stay upset. Not even a bit.

“I made her,” he says shakily with a wobbly smile to match his shaky words. “Me. She's the best part of me and I left her behind. You don’t know what that feels like, the guilt that torments me so, because she’s not your daughter. You’re not a father, but I am and I left her,” he cries as he touches his chest.

“I left them, and now I’m dying so all I need is just to see her,” he continues softly. “I don’t need her to see me even though I wish it. I don’t need to embrace her even though I dream it. I just need to see her from afar, I just need to make sure she’s okay and happy. If I die there in the stinking city then at least I would have gotten to see her one last time, so no Qarl you cannot stop me. I’m going so you can either stay or come with me.”

He was coming to see you. After you had all this doubt about his love for you, he was going to come see you before he died.

He still left you behind and made you believe he was dead, but he still thought of you, he still loved you after all that time, how can you stay mad at that? How can you forsake him when he has never forsaken you?

Albeit does that really aid your agonized soul? No, it still aches, perhaps even more so now that you know this truth. But past that agony that you feel, a part of you doesn’t hurt as much as it used to when you thought he forgot about you. A part of you feels at ease and healed, and it’s thanks to Alys.

For whatever reason, whether from the kindness of her own heart or a tactic used to motivate you out of your depressed state, you’re thankful and motivated. You can say that you will actually fight to get out now.

However, no matter how much you do wish to escape this past vision given to you through your dream, you can’t. You can’t leave yet. Instead, your surroundings slowly change. Where there were once walls from a house, now there’s an endless horizon, sand beneath your feet, and crashing waves against the shore.

Confusion is quick to take over you, polluting your every thought until you hear violent hacking from behind you. After that curiosity slowly creeps through, making you turn and freeze in horror when you see the vast ocean scene polluted by the remnants of a wrecked ship. Which means the hacking you heard…

You don’t want to see who’s lying on the sandy ground. You don’t want to, but you must, so you turn around slowly, and there on the ground lies your father, bleeding out from a puncture wound in his stomach.

“Father!” You cry out and before you know your feet carry you to him and you fall by his side. “Papa,” you whisper and reach over to grab his face and tilt it over.

When his eyes find you before him, face to face, his gaze begins to narrow as he seems to try and work out if you’re real.

“It’s me,” your whisper quivers. “It’s me. Your little Siren. Papa. You must know it’s me.”

His eyes slowly soften, making his pupils dilate, whilst his lips tug to a relieved smile. “It’s you. My little Siren.”

“Papa,” you mewl.

He chuckles out of joy and doesn’t hesitate cupping your face. “Look at you,” he coos. “You’ve grown into a beautiful young lady.”

You break into a smile and stroke his cheek. “Papa…I thought…I thought you didn’t love me. I thought you left me behind because you didn’t like me.”

He scoffs and shakes his head. “No, no. How could I ever hate you? I love you. That’s why I left, you must know.”

You nod. “Yes, I know,” you assure him and keep stroking his cheek. “I know. I have so much to tell you, like—like you’re a grandfather. Aerion is my boy's name. He’s so beautiful.”

His smile softens, and he pulls your face towards him so you can press your foreheads against each other. “Will you…sing me a song? One last…time,” he whispers.

You nod as tears crawl out of your eyes. Yet before you can even think of a song to sing, his grip slips from your cheeks, and his head falls back limply as he takes his last breath.

“Father!” You weep. “Father, please don’t leave me again. Papa!” You cry out and slide your hands down to shake his shoulders. “Papa! Please, please.”

No amount of pleas will bring him back, you know that. It’s just a vision of the past, you know that, but you still try your hardest. “Please, papa. Please you must live. You must stay. You have so much to see, like Aerion. You have to meet Aerion and the twins. Please papa. Please.”

It’s no use though. His heart isn’t beating and no breaths escape past his lips. He’s gone, and all you can do with what little time remains is bury your face in the crook of his neck.

When he slips away and the scenery follows, you wake up to the dull and blackened walls, you wake up with your cheeks pampered in tears, but a fury lit within you that makes you want to fight your way out. After all, you’ve proven that you can. Even if you’re pregnant you can do it because you can’t stay here a moment longer. You need to leave, you need to see Aerion, and most importantly not be here when Aemond returns.

Thus after you take a deep and shaky breath, and wipe the tears off your cheeks, you slip off the bed. And since you have no weapons you simply walk to the doors with the intent to lure inside one of the guards standing outside the doors.

However, when your hand hovers over the knob a thud hits the door making your shoulders jump and a breath to escape past your lips.

What are they doing out there you wonder. And to satisfy your curiosity you lean forward with your breath held to peek through the crack between the doors, noticing your guards dead on the ground and two strange men standing over them with different colored outfits that don’t match the guards left to protect you. These men also have a more rugged appearance and don’t use armor like your men do. Are they Rivermen?

They must be, and you can’t take it for chance. If they’re here killing your men after Aemond and the army left then they’re not here on good terms, and it’s doubtful that whoever is leading them will let you have your freedom.

If it was you leading these men here then you would take yourself as a prisoner; you’re valuable on both sides, and unless they’re stupid then they’ll take you captive and cut some deal with your Mother or Aemond.

Which means you have to go to Astraea and leave at last, so with that in mind you quickly search your chambers and when you find a dark corner to hide in to get a jump on them, you start to move to it.

Yet just as you make it past the door, they swing open and the men make themselves in, ruining your chance to hide.

“Your Grace,” one of the men greets you mockingly and bows their head.

You’re at a standstill so you just pierce a glare into them and try to find something to use against them as they immediately become combative, proving they’re not stupid.

“We saw the purple dragon fly out and assumed you were gone,” the second man says, telling you at that moment Astraea must have gone hunting, she wouldn’t leave otherwise. Not while you’re here against your will—“We came into the castle, saw the guards, and thought nothing of it until there were two at the door. Must be our lucky day that the Kinslayer didn’t take his wife with him.”

You can’t find something to use against them, not while they both have swords, so you start to inch toward the doors.

“If you’re going to take me captive do it,” you try to end your torture. “At your own risk, you are Rivermen, you serve under the Queen, and she won’t be happy to hear you took her only daughter captive.”

The men look at each other unaffected by your threat and one of them proves that. “Aye, she won’t. Neither will the Kinslayer find joy in hearing his wife got taken, but Lady Frey wants Harrenhal, I imagine either of them will grant us the keep and the lands for you. Whoever does it first gets you back and gets our support.”

Lady Frey? As in Lady Sabitha Frey?

Of course, the Frey’s are up to no good.

Regardless, you don’t want to let Aemond respond to their deal first. He is closer so he will arrive here faster. And if he does he’ll only leave you in the same predicament someplace he will deem safer, which will be probably someplace like Oldtown or somewhere your mother nor anyone else would dare attack, and even thinking of being kept locked away in some isolated place terrifies you more than what these men could do, so you have to reach Astraea. But first, you have to escape these men.

You are close to the door so you can slip away when there’s an opening. You just need one more step. And you take it while not looking at the door to avoid giving them the idea that you are planning to escape. You just lift your foot up and put it back to get ready to quickly slip away.

Yet just at that precise moment, one of the men catches what you were plotting and immediately pulls his sword out to lunge forward, pointing the tip of the blade at your belly, the only place that will guarantee you to come to a complete stop.

“Not so fast,” he taunts and clicks his tongue.

Your breath falters but you don’t show your fear through your expression, you instead lift your nose in the air and clench your jaw to show frustration.

“Easy Angelo,” the second man warns the man as he sees where his friend points the blade. “We need her unharmed.”

The first man, Angelo scoffs and side-eyes the second man. “I’m no idiot. She just won’t try anything now, will you?” He directs at you as he starts walking around you without letting his threatening aim falter. However, you don’t respond, you just follow him with your eyes until he gets behind you with the tip of the blade now pointed at your back.

There’s room for threats, you could tell them that Aemond has Vhagar, the biggest dragon in the world, who can easily burn them to nothing but ash, but they know that. They know the firepower both sides carry, just like they know that you have a dragon of your own, so it means that they don’t care because they have you. They have the advantage, that’s what they know. But what about what you know?

No matter what has spread about you, they still doubt you. They don’t believe in your wrath, they’re ignorant to the picture others have painted of you because you’re a woman, a Princess who can’t have the capability of spreading such destruction.

That’s where they’re wrong though and you’re glad for it. You can thank their ignorance and their misogynistic views for that. And it’s because of the way they think that you easily find an escape. It is a bit more gruesome than you anticipated, but without a weapon of your own, you have no other choice but to be violent. They left you with no other choice but to fling your fist back just as he puts his sword away in an attempt to tie your hands together, and hit him right in the throat, making him stumble back as he starts to choke. You then swiftly spin around before he can recover, catching him reaching for his sword with one hand, so you hastily run at him and suddenly jump on him.

Once you’re clinging onto him the other guy shouts, whilst Angelo grabs a fistful of your hair to try and yank your head away, but since he’s still choking you manage to throw your head forward and sink your teeth on the side of his neck.

At first, your mind forbids you from sinking your teeth any deeper than you’re supposed to, but adrenaline and fear take control, so before you know it you bite through his flesh, causing blood to immediately flood out in your mouth and spill down your chin. You then yank your head back and rip a piece of flesh from his neck, rendering him nothing more than deadweight at that very moment.

No more taunting, and no more doubting. There’s just his blood as it squirts all over your chest and face until you let go of Angelo, and let him fall limply to the ground with a loud thud as you spit out the piece of him you ripped out.

“Angelo!” The other man shrieks, reminding you he’s there after feeling the rush of the moment cloud your mind.

“<That's right,>” you murmur in High Valyrian as you turn around and see how horrified the man is, to the point he stands there paralyzed with his widened eyes on his dead friend. He doesn’t seem to notice that you’re there anymore, not until you snatch the sword from the man’s corpse. Even then he fails to counter, it just seems like his eyes are almost going to pop out of his skull when he sees the bottom part of your face, and your chest covered in his friend's blood.

Yet it’s his inability to react that makes him an easy but also disappointing target. You want him to put up a fight, but he returns his gaze to his friend and with his last breath utters the name, “Angelo.” You then lunge the blade through his stomach so hard that the blade comes out of the other end.

After both men are nothing but corpses spilling blood over the ground you drop the blade and lift your nose in the air as you take in heavy breaths and think of what to do next. There’s no doubt more Frey men are here, Lady Frey wouldn’t be stupid enough to come with just a couple. She should have come with a handful of men, and a handful of men is just enough to overwhelm you and lead you back to the same problem you were just in, but worse because you wouldn’t be able to escape more of them.

It’s why you need to take your chance now that you have it. There’s no more men coming. They don’t all know you’re here, not besides the two that you just killed going by what they said, so you can make your escape.

Alys is here too, but you don’t need to worry about her, she can take care of herself. And Ser Jason? Aemond had him locked away so he wouldn’t get you out, there’s no way you can reach him without getting caught, so…you have to make the hardest choice and leave him behind. You can’t get caught or you’ll just be locked away again, you’ll fall into the same trap that put you in danger in the first place, so you have to leave before they see you. Ser Jason will understand that.

“Sorry, Ser,” you murmur to yourself as you drop the blade and don’t hesitate a moment longer before you leave the room.

Once you're in the hallway though you come to a stop to try and hear if more men are approaching. When you hear nothing, you stick to the shadows and sneakily make your escape. Luckily the castle is large, with a lot of area to cover, so none of the men or Lady Frey have reached the corridors you stride down. They don’t occupy the courtyard you run down, but you do hear voices in the distance once you’re outside, they sound close, but they’re not on top of you yet, so you just quicken your pace.

When you make it out of the walls you stand against one and glance at the woods and open area. If Astraea is hunting she’ll hunt for deer or some bear or something since you’re not close to the sea for her to hunt her fish. The woods don’t offer her the space for her to catch her meals so she’d be roaming over the tree line, over the open fields where she has space and more visibility. That’s where you’ll find her, so going off instinct, you continue to run.

Running while pregnant is not easy though. Especially not with twins, not when you're six months along; they weigh you down and make you slower, but you don’t let that stop you. Not at this moment, you push yourself as much as your body lets you. Your heart quickly begins to race, your rushing blood thumps in your ears, and beads of sweat form on your forehead, but you don’t care, you keep running and running.

The need to keep straining yourself in order to find your dragon only grows tenfold when you hear men in the background shouting to catch you and return you to the castle before you can reunite with your dragon somewhere in the distance. And since they’re not carrying twins they’re faster than you. Since their legs aren’t throbbing with the additional weight or out of growing exhaustion, they’re faster.

They get closer and closer, making you keep pushing yourself, making you try to run faster because you can feel her nearby. She’s close, you can feel it. You just need to run faster. She’ll scare them off.

However, your efforts are proven useless when one of them manages to get the lead out of the others he’s with and throws his arms around you to yank you back, pulling you to a harsh stop, and preventing you from reaching your dragon.

“Let go of me!” You bellow and try to throw your elbow back, but two more men catch up and take ahold of your arms, making your efforts to escape fruitless. “I’m your princess!” You throw out and kick your feet as they start pulling you back, but they don’t care. They see the blood staining you and don’t care. And since a lot of men are returning you to the castle they don’t care about you kicking or squirming.

Your fight is nothing to them, which makes returning to the castle an easy effort and once you're inside you're taken to the Godswood right away where you're pushed to your knees in front of none other than Lady Serena Frey, an old shrewd who was recently widowed, and who apparently has nothing better to do.

“Princess,” the old woman greets you and curtsies which means nothing when you’re on your knees with your hands tied behind your back. “It’s an honor meeting you. I will say you look nothing like your brother.”

You clench your jaw and narrow your glare on her at the mere mention of your brother.

“I expected to come to a weakly defended castle, but alas you’re here,” she continues to talk confidently with her chin up in the air, relishing in a confidence she can only gain because there’s no dragon nearby, you’re on your knees, and she knows Aemond and your own mother are far to do her any harm. “You truly are a sight for sore eyes, Princess.”

You tilt your head slightly and finally break the silence you had kept since you were put before her “You would be rewarded handsomely if you deliver me to my mother without strings, don’t you know?”

Lady Frey steps forward and lets out a deep breath as she seems to weigh on what you say before she sighs and nods stiffly. “Perhaps I would be rewarded, but what’s better than the jewel to the Riverlands? I was promised to be its Castallen but alas the one who made the promise is dead. Killed by arrows I heard.”

Your breath falters, and you drop your eyes to the ground as you make the connection that it was Jacaerys that she was referring to this entire time. It was your sweet and now deceased brother. You realize that and the memory of him only stomps on the ashes of your heart, making you ache.

“And with you as my prisoner, the Prince Regent and The Queen would both willingly give me what I want without the need of waiting until the war has ended,” she adds as her eyes burn into your downcasted attention. “The only question is who will offer it to me first with good benefits.”

“You have dominion over the twins, what more do you need? Surely this castle can’t be worth more than that?” You spat as you slowly roll your eyes up to meet her gaze without that ache reflecting in your eyes. You make sure not to demonstrate your sorrow when meeting eye to eye.

“With your brother dead you will most likely be heir now, if not you will rule over somewhere important, and if not you will always be a spoiled princess pampered until your death, so you will never know our struggles,” she rebuttals spitefully. “You don’t know what it's like having to fight to live. Holding Harrenhal is a promise for a better life, and respect. So yes, Your Grace this castle is worth far more than the Twins.”

Alright…

You remain speechless and just hold her gaze fueled with determination for a moment, and actually feel a speck of admiration for her need to fight for better, but you know now nothing will get her to let you go. You know Aemond will answer first and you know where he will leave you. He’s leaving you no choice…

You didn’t want to fight back with fire or blood. Whatever the case the Frey’s are allied with your mother, they let the Northmen cross and some have fought alongside them for your mother, so they have been allies, but if you let them take you you know where you’ll end up. And the fear of being locked away, of being useless when you can be the key to something great, or even something small that can give someone an advantage, is consuming.

It’s why you can’t stand the idea of being locked away. It’s why you won’t stand being locked away a moment longer, or for a far longer time, even if it’s what Aemond thinks is for the best. Which is funny to think about as you're currently on your knees with your hands tied behind your back because this need to keep you here where he thought your safety was guaranteed is what put you in your current situation. And it was only 3 days after he left. Not months, days! So it’s kind of funny, no?

He surely wouldn’t think so, but it sure as hell is funny to you. You could almost laugh at the irony of it, and all for what?

If only he could see you now. If only he could see the situation HE put you in. Him. Not anyone else, him, him, him, and only him. And all because of what?! A fear you don’t understand after he’s witnessed your ability to fight, and to survive fire. And maybe yes he’s just looking out for you, for your unborn children, but the paranoia that held him by his throat put you in one of the very situations he was trying to avoid. His paranoia put you in this situation, him, and only him! And now he will see what he forced you to do to escape. You will make sure of it.

“Take her inside,” Lady Frey orders the men. “Being under the open sky is too dangerous.”

Smart, but alas not quick enough. You feel her nearby like a magnetizing connection pulled apart and aching to reconnect and become one again. Yet she’s not on top of you yet, close, but if they take you inside now she won’t be able to help you. Thus as the man grabs ahold of your arm and starts to pull you up, you snap your head around and throw your face forward to chomp down on the man's crotch.

The man screams out, of course, but does what you wanted him to do; he lets you go, letting you slowly push yourself to your feet with your eyes cast on the ground all while meeting no fight back. They know after all that hurting you would guarantee no offer to be met, so they don’t retaliate even if the other men itch too. They stand there in confusion watching you draw in and draw heavy breaths out while your eyes stay focused on the ground, unknown to the fact that your mind is thinking about what you’re being forced to do, and what you’re about to do.

They see you there at a standstill and see an opening to recapture you. However, they quickly come to a stop before they can try anything when they catch you slowly lifting your head and slowly painting a different expression on your features.

Rather than expressing disappointment and guilt, your eyebrows start to pinch together, the corner of your lips begin to curl, your nose flares, and in your eyes, a fury is lit within that was not burning there before. One so threatening and furious that Lady Frey starts to realize something is looming nearby; something big, and something far more dangerous than any human, than you, or anything here. Something that is finally heard in the cloud bank above. Something they know to escape right away, but alas they’re far too late.

“Dracarys,” you utter one single word just above a whisper. And without the need to repeat yourself or even be heard by the creature hidden in the cloud back, a great fire rains down from above, ridding the sky of every cloud that hid her, and bathing you and every single soul around you except for one, in a life-consuming fire that leaves only you standing there with your nose in the air, heavy breaths escaping past your lips, and tears of anger welling in your eyes. All while the sole survivor runs away without looking back. All he knows is you came out unscathed, that’s all he cares to acknowledge after his escape because he fears you’ll go after him.

Albeit how can you when your mind is stuck on the fact of that matter that you didn’t want to kill them? You didn’t want to burn them and leave yourself naked in the middle of the Godswood, but Aemond pushed you to. Aemond left you here…and it’s because he left that you had to do it.

Why? Why did he have to leave? Why did he leave you behind?

You were going to leave after he accidentally pushed you, but if he had asked you to accompany him on his wrath around the Riverlands you would have accepted. And why wouldn’t you? But he left and he put your life in danger. He left and you had to burn them, you had to use fire. You had to kill the other two and leave your face covered in blood. You had to because of him. Him. Him!

Well, now he will see what he forced you to do. He will see what his actions led to. He will return expecting to see you still locked away in those chambers, but you’ll be long gone, all that will be left of you is the remnants of what you did, what he caused, and what his fear pushed you to do.

Aemond will return and see burnt bodies on the ground, and Lady Frey and a few others hanging from the Weirwood tree. He will see that he was wrong. He will face his mistake and your wrath.

He will see and you make sure of it all by yourself. It is taxing, only because you had to fling the bodies over the branches, but you did it. You left a gruesome scene and even though you have done bad things before, usually you’re basked with pride and confidence since you’re proving that you’re so much more, that you are strong, but this time as you look up at the bodies from the ground all you can do is cry as you’re hit with a wave of guilt for the first time.

You try to wipe the tears off your face, but hot streaks keep rolling down your cheeks, breaking through the dry blood that pampers your face, and only making your emotions clear to anyone with eyes. And when it comes to Alys and Ser Jason finally coming out to meet you in the Godswood that confidence that you usually carry like some mask after you fight is even more impossible to be bothered to be put on.

You try to paint yourself as unfazed. You try hard, after all, they were just stupid people who threatened your life. Yet when you turn to face Alys and give your back to the Weirwood tree carrying those burnt bodies, your bottom lip starts to tremble, your pinched eyebrows falter from their hardened hold, and your eyes, oh, your eyes, they scream your agony in such a way that Ser Jason thinks your pain is ethereal, and that the gruesome scene behind you is like a part of some beautifully tragic embroidered art piece on a tapestry.

“I have to go home,” is what you can muster through it all. “Will you come with me?” You direct at Alys, and she first approaches you to block your exposed body from your sworn protector and then gives you a response that comes easily to her.

“No. My place is here,” she says and only makes more tears run down your face, reminding her how young you really are in the grand scheme of things. You might’ve recently had a name day, but as she sees you before her with your face screaming the agony you’re under, she remembers that you shouldn’t be put through these trials and tribulations. You’re too young, but you’re forced just like many before you.

“But don’t fret my friend, will see each other again,” she uses a soft voice she had forgotten she was able to use. “Soon.”

You believe her, no doubt about it, so you nod gently.

“You send me a raven if you find yourself in trouble, and if Aemond—”

“I know how to avoid him,” she cuts you off to assure you. “Don’t worry. You just go back home to your boy and your mother. I will be fine. I always have.”

You nod again and just before you can go change, you take in a breath to say something else. “Thank you, for letting me find peace with my father,” you say shakily. “And for…letting me find myself. I know who I am, and what my place is in this story now because of you Alys, so…thank you. I will never ever forget what you did for me here, and I know you said it already, but if you want we can be lifelong friends. I don’t want to lose our friendship.”

Alys blinks repeatedly and her own lips tremble but she musters a confident but sweet smile. “Of course. I would…really love that.”

You swallow thickly and nod in comprehension before you wrap your arms around her to pull her in for an embrace. “Thank you,” you whisper and hold onto her tighter, feeling her carefully return your embrace.

After a moment of lingering in each other's arms, you pull back and look at Ser Jason past Alys’ shoulder. “Get ready, Ser. We’re going home.”

———

*SOMETIME LATER*

The last time you returned to King’s Landing was after leaving Dragonstone, and you were met with an arrow that barely missed your dragon. There was hostility where there shouldn’t have been any, and this time around it’s not all so different. Sure, an arrow isn’t shot at Astraea this time, so your life isn’t put in danger, but you are met with perhaps a more dangerous threat; two dragons roaming the skies they never lose sight of you as they approach you the closer you get to the city, fearing that the monster of Aemond’s dragon would descend at any moment.

Alas, their fear is misplaced, you don’t come as a threat. You could be one, the two people upon their dragons know that, but you’ve come home in peace. And perhaps now you look like some dog running back with its tail between its legs. And in some form, you are running back home, but it’s not out of cowardice. More so realization that your mother’s side is where you always belonged.

Hopefully, she gets to understand that and hasn’t given up on you even though she’s had every right to, and has most likely had snakes whispering in her ear telling her to stop putting a candle out for your return—and yes, you may still have some sort of hateful bias toward the snake called Daemon, that he doesn’t deserve any more. It’s been proven that he’s just an asshole and nothing more, but still! He’s most likely told her to view you as an enemy because it would make fighting her war easier.

And perhaps she should kill you. The whispers that have spread about the realm are not cruel rumors, you supported Aemond in taking Harrenhal, and you took part in the massacre of House Strong, so yes you were a devoted Green. You are a traitor to your mother’s side!

But you’ve seen your wrongs, you’re not tormented anymore. She needs to see that. You keep pleading to yourself that she does, that she forgives your wrongs and doesn’t truly cast you aside like you’ve feared she would so many times before.

She needs to see it. Please, please don’t let her forsake you.

“Give me your hand,” Ser Jason offers his help, but you jump off the ladders hanging down Astraea and land perfectly on the ground—“o-kay.”

The flapping of dragon wings claps in the sky louder and louder way before a long shadow starts to cast over you.

Yet even as the dragon is approaching you you avoid giving them your attention, you direct it to Astraea instead as you approach her head and lift your hand to gently stroke her face.

However, after a moment passes you can't help yourself from drifting your attention to the sky where you see Seasmoke.

You see him and your mind immediately goes to your father, what you just found out not so long ago in the form of dreams, and in some way, in some form a part of you expects him to be on that dragon. You wish for him to be on that dragon, but the truth breaks through your delusion just as quickly as it built up and you come out disappointed that you know it’s just Addam.

“And so the prodigal daughter returns,” his taunting voice hits your ears, making you press your hand firmly against your dragon whilst you slowly drag your attention to Daemon now on the ground departing from his dragon. “Which begs the question, friend or foe? Should I expect your Kinslayer of a husband to surprise attack us?”

You see him now, and not just a glimpse of him, you see all of him and he has his hand resting on Dark Sister with a not-so-lax hold as if anticipating a fight. Which is smart on his behalf.

“No,” you deadpan with no effort to sound kind or warm. “I have escaped his clutches while he’s away. I have returned to fight for The Queen…if she’ll have me.”

Daemon's gaze roams your body, noticing how tense your shoulders are, but not seeing any part of you twitch in a form to give away that you’re lying. Your voice is harsh and serious, no taunting or cockiness clings onto it, it just gives away your distaste for him but not anything else that should worry him. It’s why he chooses to trust you, and well, your mother had already told him that she wanted to see you when your dragon was first sighted in the sky.

“Of course, she’ll have you,” Daemon mutters, making your breath falter. “But your sworn protector needs to give me his sword, and Astraea needs to go to the Dragonpit.”

You snap your eyes to Astraea, and her own gaze turns to you which only makes your turmoil that much worse.

“It’s for safety measures,” Daemon adds as he takes note of your hesitance “Just hours ago you were the enemy. And even now when you enter the Red Keep and I follow you in who knows what can happen, do you understand?”

You swallow back nervously, and as you keep looking at Astraea as if your actions will physically wound her, you nod gently in agreement.

“Good.”

You can’t say it hurt you more to chain your dragon in the dragon pit because she’s been spoiled most of her life, so now she’s restless when it comes to being in chains and unable to sleep under the endless sky, so she’s hurt and when she’s hurt you feel it too.

Yet that pain doesn’t compare to the agony that you’re hit with when you step inside the Red Keep and forget Jacaerys is gone. You were so used to having him greet you whether it be with a furrowed brow or warm smile that you wait for him to come meet you and Daemon when you’re walking to the throne room. You expect him to walk around a corridor in a very heavy and quick stride. You anticipate seeing him—no, desire seeing him meet you halfway, but just as you turn the corner to reach the throne room, it hits you, he’s gone. Not temporarily, he’s not off handling something for your mother, he’s gone forever. He’s never going to come meet you ever again with either a smile or a bothered look.

You remember that and it shakes what little confidence you had mustered to talk to your mother. Now when those doors open and you’re greeted with the great image of her on that throne tears accompany your eyes, the corners of your lips are downturned, and sorrow and anxiety make themselves evident. There’s no holding them back anymore, it’s clear to Rhaena and Baela standing at the foot of the Iron Throne, and your grandfather, The Hand, standing below the steps that lead to the Iron Throne. And most importantly your emotions are loud and clear to your mother. Not the Queen, your mother.

Yes, she looks at you like she can’t believe you’re walking down the great hall. She couldn’t believe you were returning when she saw Astraea, nor could she believe she was hearing your title and name be announced the moment the doors opened, but alas here you are, striding to her with no pep in your step, no air of cockiness and arrogance around you. All she sees is her wounded daughter. Her weakness that crumbles her own mask and softens her heart hardened after Jacaerys death.

“Your Grace,” you greet and immediately go down on one knee, causing Ser Jason to do the same behind you.

Like before when you came to greet Aegon as King for the first time you keep your eyes downcasted. This time though it’s not to fake innocence, this time you can’t lift your eyes out of fear of what you’ll see, especially as you hear her get off the throne and hear her footsteps descend the stairs.

“I have come to swear my fealty to ward the Queen,” you proclaim with an attempt at confidence. “I know my word means nothing. Word has spread about what I was a part of at Harrenhal, and I will not say it happened against my will because I would be lying. I did it. I took part in killing House Strong, and I don’t regret it. I had my reasons. Just like I had my reasons to leave your side…” you trail off as you avoid giving those reasons so no problems would arise.

“But,” you add with a hint of softness. “I see my wrongdoings. I was wrong, I see it now. My place is here, by your side, My Queen. My place has always been at your side.” You nod in agreement to your words and still don’t look at her even if she now stops before you.

“I’m sorry I fell astray. I hope you can find it in yourself to forgive me. I wouldn’t have to take part in fighting, or any royal matters. I just want your forgiveness and for you to let me return to my place by your side…please,” your voice quivers on that last word. Not to make yourself sound more convincing, you just couldn’t control your emotions.

And either way, no matter how you would’ve sounded, or what word you used at the end, your mother still presses two fingers under your chin and tilts your head up to make you meet her gaze, and let you see tears that well in her eyes and the softness that reflects back at you.

“Rise,” she orders, and you slowly stand to your feet, letting her eyes fall to your belly that sticks out now before her gaze finds yours again.

“Your Grace,” you say breathily with the need to say so much more. You’re on the verge of a breakdown, but as you’re on your feet you can see the other people in the hall, you feel their eyes on you, so those two words are all you utter.

“Should we expect an attack from Vhagar now that you have left?” Daemon interrupts the moment, causing you and your mother to snap your gaze to him at the same time—“It’s said Cole has taken his army away from Harrenhal, where does he march?”

“He aims to join the Hightower,” you don’t fret to share. “But alas they’re taking the most obvious route so it’s a waiting game now to see if they can win against the Northmen and the Rivermen.”

Daemon scoffs and you continue more hesitantly now.

“And Aemond…is smart, once he finds out I’m gone he’ll be upset, but he wouldn’t dare come when he knows he’s at a disadvantage, besides, he wants you to go out to meet him.”

A teasing smile flashes on Daemon’s face that he hides by looking down.

“He left me at Harrenhal, locked me in our quarters to be protected, but Lady Serena Frey invaded Harrenhal with the intention of taking me captive to give me to the highest bidder,” you share and look back at your mother. “She said she was promised Harrenhal and wanted to take it by force. She's dead now,” you announce coldly. “They all are. That’s how I escaped.”

Your mother looks at you, not with fear at what she heard, but with a curiosity that she doesn’t express. It just gleams in her eyes.

“Good,” Daemon praises you.

“My sword is yours now,” you reassure your mother. “I will bleed for you, and I will use fire on your enemies now and until the day I die.”

Your mother draws in a deep breath and blinks repeatedly as she very lightly shakes her head before she grabs your shoulder with one hand and then cups your cheek with the other, making you draw in a deep shaky breath.

“Don't turn your back on me again,” she says, but not threateningly. There’s not even a hint of it, it’s more like she was pleading you not to more than anything.

“I swear,” you immediately respond, making her lips twitch up but not to form a smile just yet.

“<Welcome back home,>” she whispers and presses her forehead against yours, making tears slip out of your eyes, but not feel assured just yet. Not until you tell her everything you have trapped in your throat.

“<And thank you. For saving your brother, Aegon,>” she adds, making you pull your head back to offer her a smile and sweet words.

“<Of course.>”

You then step back and glance at your grandfather and offer him a stiff nod to acknowledge him, but that’s all, something venomous still churns inside at the thought of him.

When you look at the twins though, you can muster a short smile before you look back at your mother and finally get to what you’ve been itching to address. “Aerion?”

“Guarded by your dog,” Daemon chuckles, making you roll your eyes to him—“he’s as loyal as a hound that one. That’s the only reason why he still breathes.”

So Ser Cane has been protecting him this entire time? Good!

“May I go see him?” You ask your mother just in case she wants to touch on other matters and to let her take care of other trivial matters now that you’re back.

“Of course,” she doesn’t keep you waiting. She lets you go without anything else to add. Nothing to restrict you, after all, you’re her only biological daughter, you’re her child, and after losing three already, how could she even think of doing anything to hurt you in any way whether it be emotionally or physically?

If she could, she would lock you away like Aemond did, that would guarantee your safety, but she knows her limits, so she lets you go without any interjections.

Yet, close is all you get to Aerion. Before you can turn the corner that leads to his chambers you hesitate out of slight fear.

He’s a baby, nine months old to be exact, but it’s been four months since you last saw him. What if he cries when you try to hold him? What if he wants nothing to do with you? You would deserve his rejection, you haven’t been in his life for a short time, but it doesn’t mean that you want to mean nothing to your son.

But if you do mean nothing, if that fear becomes a reality then you have to face it, don’t you? You have no other option. Thus you draw out a deep breath before you turn the corner and get greeted with Ser Cane outside the door.

“Ser,” you announce your presence and gain his immediate attention.

“Princess,” he tries to sound serious but you hear the hint of surprise that matches the surprise in his eyes. “You've returned. Welcome back home.”

The corner of your lips tug to a gentle smile at the sound of his warm greeting. “It’s good to be home,” you say in return as you come to a brief stop before him. “I’m glad they have spared you, and I’m sorry that you had to go through that. I didn’t know it was going to happen.”

Ser Cane shakes his head. “Don’t worry about me, Princess. I have been through worse.”

You shake your head gently. “In any case I am sorry.”

Ser Cane shakes his head as well and speaks with determination clinging to every word. “I am your sworn protector and that of your son. My life and my sword are yours. To die protecting you and the little lord would be a good and honorable death. I would want it no other way regardless of which side you decide to fight on.”

Your breath hitches and you nod in comprehension. “Thank you, my good knight,” you whisper, making him bow his head before he opens the door for you.

“Go on, I’m sure he’s still awake.”

You swallow back nervously and take a peek inside first, but don’t see him, Vanessa, or any of his caretakers. You hoped they would be just across the door, but alas you have to step inside. And when you do, you do so with your eyes averted as if you’re ashamed of walking in.

“Princess?!” You hear Vanessa’s voice call out to you from across the room, bringing you to a stop but not making you raise your gaze just yet.

“You’re back? When did you arrive?” She continues asking so you answer.

“Not so long ago,” you speak quietly with shame clinging onto every word as if high-born ladies didn’t leave their children for long periods of time, as if being gone was such a great sin when it isn’t. It’s common for high-born ladies to be away from their children, but that’s not the mother you wanted to be because that’s not the kind of mother that raised you.

“I’m sorry,” you can’t hold back anymore, striking Vanessa with surprise and bringing herself to a stop as she made her way to you.

“For what?” She queries.

You blink repeatedly and then slowly drag your eyes up, feeling your breath escape your lips when you see Aerion awake in her arms, looking right at you with his father's blue eyes.

“You don’t have to apologize,” Vanessa adds to try and reassure you. “He’s okay. We’re okay.”

You glance at her and nod in comprehension before you look back at Aerion as he’s unable to keep his eyes off you as if trying to figure you out.

“<Aerion,> You coo and whatever fear and hesitation you held falls completely when you see how big he’s gotten, and how big and healthy he looks

“<Hello, my little love,>” you continue as you slowly start to make your way toward him, hoping he won’t turn away from you.

“Look at you,” Vanessa interjects. “Six months along and you look so much bigger. I suppose twins do that though, huh? Are you feeling okay? Do you need anything to eat? Tea?”

You look at your handmaiden and shake your head. “No, no, I’m fine. Just…relieved to be back with Aerion. And you.”

She huffs and when you walk over and reach her you cup her cheek first, letting her mirror your action but then also start stroking your cheek gently.

“I’m happy you have returned,” she says sweetly, making you smile. “You must tell me everything, and I will give you something that came for you.”

You scoff at her cheeky smile but offer her an agreeing nod before you let her go and give your attention to your son, feeling your eyes soften right away, and feeling a spark where your heart once used to be.

“<Hello my boy, it’s me, your mama.>” You whisper in the most gentle voice so you don’t startle him, and he spares a glance at Vanessa before he meets your gaze and leans towards you to reach his hands out.

You gasp softly and feel your eyes sting with tears as you don’t hesitate to take him and carry him yourself, feeling how much heavier he is now. “<I have so much to tell you>,” your voice quivers as you stroke the side of his head whilst he reaches for the siren necklace Aemond gifted you. “<Like I missed you so much, and,” you laugh softly. “Guess what? I met your little brother in a vision. Not the twins, someone we have yet to meet.>”

With no care to what you’re saying Aerion lays his head on your shoulder as he clutches onto the Siren, making you let out a happy cry before you hug him tightly against you with the inability to stop pressing kisses on his head.

“I love you,” you whisper against his head and then nuzzle your nose in his head of white-silver hair, going unaware of the fact that your mother stood past the doors with the intention of walking in, but stopping the moment she catches you sharing such a sweet moment with your son and not being able to help her blissful smile.

It’s been a while since she’s smiled, since she’s felt bliss, but as she sees you with your own little one that’s all she feels, bliss.

.

.

.

.

Tagged- @namelesslosers @stargaryenx @chainsawsangel @lauftivy @winxschester @cloudroomblog @llarue @padsdarlg @sofietargaryen @gracielikegrapes @dreaming-of-the-reality @itzelpeyton @patdsinner33 @mrsdominickstark @elaena-aerrin @todoroki-slut @snh96 @urmomsgirlfriend1 @nifujiswhore @sweethoneyblossom1 @kaetastic @lightdragonrayne @squidscottjeans @oh-you-mean-me @wallacewillow0773638 @icefrye19 @thescottpack @fiction-fanfic-reader @crazymusicgirl104 @r-3dlips @strangersunghoon @just-pure-trash @ethereal-athalia @missyviolet123 @callsignwidow @xunquish-blog @tabathastan @weepingfashionwritingplaid @answer-the-sirens

[yuyu1024]

Watermelon

Pairings: Wooyoung x Y/N

Genre/tags: friends to...?

Warning: fluff, smut 🔞, cursing, pet names (babes, baby, love, honey, noona etc), protected/unprotected sex (be safe everyone)

~~~ [lmk if i miss anything]

Words: 2.7k

Disclaimer:

- this story is just made up

- english is not my first language, please be nice 😊

A/N: something from drafts ✨️

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

"Since when did you start wearing make up?" Wooyoung asks as he finds you at Jongho's kitchen, cutting watermelons for the boys.

You pause mid cut and look back at him, leaning on the doorway whilst holding a can of beer in hand. "I'm not in the mood today." You snarl, rolling your eyes. "I'm busy."

He snorts a chuckle. You can hear him walk. But instead of walking away, he appoaches you. "Red is your color..." he says, tilting his head to the side to see your face.

You sigh. "What do you want?" You sound irritated.

He puts his beer on the counter top and leaned his loweback on the edge. "You stopped responding to me..." he crosses his arm around his torso. "I thought we are building something special between us..."

"I don't know what you're talking about..." you utter even though YOU DO know what he meant.

Since the beginning of summer, you and Wooyoung have been... close. You text and call each other. The normal. Like what usually friends do.

However, you and him are not like this before. He is a friend of your friend, Jongho. And so he became friends with you and your circle too. But still... you two are not there yet.

But then lately, he have been making efforts with you. And you thought it was cool and nice since you want to be close with him too coz he is friendly. But little did you know, he likes to be a little TOO friendly. You are blinded by his sweet words that you almost missed it.

And when you noticed that he's after you, not just to be friends. You suddenly got timid with him. You limit your contact with him.

Of course you are doing this not to be mean and unfriend him. It's just a precaution. You know yourself. If you continued it, this something between you too is danger. And you're not sure you can handle just being one of his girls.

"Are you sure?" His voice sounds so evil and yet so alluring.

You even felt him move closer to you that his skin from his arm touches your exposed arm as well. You pray that your body does not react to expose you. But thats not even what you should be worried about. Coz Wooyoung could tell. Weirdly enough, He knows you a lot more than you think.

"Stop..." you look at him.

"Stop what?" He arches a brow.

"That!" You sound irritated. "I'm not in the mood okay? I can't play with your games and shit."

You finally finished cutting the watermelons. You throw the knife and cutting board in the sink.

"Here..." you push the bowl of watermelon to Wooyoung. "Give it to the guys..."

He looks at you confused and dumbfounded but at the same time amused. "Okay." He softly answer. "Talk to you later then." He smiles and leaves you in the kitchen

***

The whole house is loud. The boys are playing games and having bets who would win. And of course, the loser would be the one assigned in washing all the dishes. Exlcuding you and Wooyoung as you two did the cooking and the prep earlier with Seonghwa.

"I win!" Yunho yells overjoyed.

"Aah! I'm safe!" Hongjoong, Yeosang and San said at the same time.

That is leaving Yeosang and Jongho in dishwashing duties.

"But it's my house!" Jongho tries to appeal

"That's more reason for you to be nice to your guests." Seonghwa answers. "Just go and clean..." he pats both males shoulder. "Go on..."

"This is unfair." Jongho pouted

"What's unfair is me and Y/N lost the ladder game for the room. Now we have no choice but to sleep in the scary ass basement room...on that one big ass mattress." Wooyoung says before chugging his beer

(Scary basement because its Jongho's old brother's office that they turned into a guest bedroom. But the vibes is not very welcoming since its not yet decorated properly)

Fuck. You lost the game and you can't react nor beg for anyone to exchange with you. You don't want to cause an issue and make them feel that something is wrong. Because in the first place, nothing is wrong. Technically. You are just....... cautious with Wooyoung because you don't want to have more feelings for him.

Yes he is your friend. But being a girl surrounded by hot men that are your friends, for sure you are bound to have infatuation with one of them. And unlucky you... it is wooyoung. The guy who keeps hitting on you.

"Try not to snore too much, Woo! Y/N needs her beauty sleep." San says

"And turn off your phone okay?" Seonghwa puts his arm around you. "Stop thinking about that guy..."

Wooyoung glances at you and Hwa "What guy?"

You then poke Seonghwa on his stomach with your elbows. "I'm already over him. Stop mentioning it."

Hwa laughs at your reaction. "Are you really?" He pats your head like a big brother that he is for you.

"Do we know this guy?" San asks

"Not really..." Jongho answers as he walk pass to grab his phone. "He is a football player from a different school..." and then goes back to the kitchen.

"And how did you know this guy?" Wooyoung asks trying not to sound bitter or jealous

"It's in the past." You mumble trying not to make them anymore curious. But since Wooyoung is already heated deep down because of the fact that there is another guy interested in you that you never mentioned before.

"Tell us more." He says to hwa

"Well... we met the guy when Y/N came to watch with me... coz a childhood friend of mine is going to that uni. We met them and his team... and this guy... who is famous in their school... liked Y/N..."

"And then what happened?" San scoots over and giving you a teasing smile.

"Nothing happened..." you answer as you pinch his cheek.

"The guys schedule is too hectic to even have time for Y/N... so... she decided to let it go." Hwa adds

"Why do you know all of this? And none of us did?" Wooyoung asks

You glance at him and saw his expression. He looks a little hurt.

"Let's not talk about it okay?" You stand up and hop over the boys legs. "I'm going to shower now... let's move on and you guys go ahead to your rooms... it's late... I need to sleep."

"Fine...." San pouts as he gets up as well. "You can chat about it some other time."

"No..." you stick your tongue out and make your way upstairs to get your things and shower.

***

"What is that guy's name?"

You haven't even had the chance to lay down properly yet, Wooyoung is already asking question about the guy Hwa mentioned.

"Do you text him a lot? Are you still in contact with him?"

"Wooyoung..."

"Are you not in the mood because of him? Are you not texting or calling me back because... OF him?"

You sigh as you put your feet and legs under the thick blanket. "Like I said... it's in the past. We stopped texting like sweet and flirtatious... like late last year..."

"Sweet and fliratious...?" He repeats under his breathe. "But do you still talk to him?"

"From time to time... yes..."

Wooyoung slams his phone on the nightstand and gets under the sheets, turning his back on you.

"What's your problem?"

"You."

"Me? What did I do?!"

He then gets up, startling you and then climbs on top of you. You were about to squeal but he covered your mouth before you could even.

"You are avoiding me... trying to get to know you more... and yet you had this... thing with a football player?"

You bite his finger making him hiss and move a little off you. "You should know why!" You snap back at him. "We are friends... you are not supposed to do what you do with your exes to me."

He frowns. "What does that supposed to mean? And who the fuck said that I am going to treat you like my exes?"

"No one..."

"So you just made that up? And assumed I am the bad guy?"

"Can you blame me? Look at your dating profile. None of them lasted three months."

"Thats because they all cheated on me!" He says exasperatedly then flopping back to bed. "I guess you're not that interested with me coz you don't try to ask for facts..."

You got silenced. You didn't know. You didn't bothered asking around.

"And also... I don't just go around and fuck around... I may look like I have a reputation.. but I respect women okay? And I am a romantic guy..."

You still don't speak up. You just stare at the ceiling and let him talk.

"So... all this time... you assumed that I am just going to play around?" He asks

You look away. "Yes."

He gets up to sit and look at you. "What the fuck?"

You then get up too. "I'm sorry okay? But can you blame me? That's all I know from you...well regards to your dating okay? and the way you text me... its giving..  fuck boy."

"A fuck boy?" He laugh. "How do I even text you? What do I do to give that vibes?" He's not sure if he is offended or being complimented. He just laughs it off  "Seonghwa is right..." he continues. "Even though you hang out with us... a bunch of guys... you are still a girl... not that I am.. trying to say girls are very dramatic and overthinking...but ya know..."

You glare at him. "Fine. I am. And so what?" You roll your eyes

"Nothing...I'm just saying... plus I don't give damn."

"What? What does that supposed to mean?"

Wooyoung looks at you. A small smile on his lips. "I still like you... even you labelled me as a player."

"Shut up." You hit him with your pillow

"Hey! I am serious."

"I am too!" You hit him again. "Shut up!"

"Shut up or else what?"

You press your lips together and stare at him. Unsure what to say.

But you are glad though that he sort of cleared a few things about him. Your misconception about him. Which is your fault too. You judged him a little too much because you try to find things to hate about him so that you would not step over the boundry that you're trying to avoid.

"Y/N... do you like me or not?" He suddenly asks. "Just tell me... and if you say no... I will stop. I'll go back to the old Wooyoung... not caring and texting you everyday... or wanting your attention..."

You sigh

"And don't give me the bullshit that you thought we are just friends thing. Okay? You know what we've been doing these past few months. We are texting and calling each other, yes... but... I know how we do skinship had evolved." He moves closer. "I know how you felt whenever we cuddle during movie nights... and whenever my lips brushed over your ears as I hug you closer..." he is now centimeters away from you and you are not moving away. "C'mon sweety... just be honest." He smirks

Oh you hate that smirk. You hate it because he already knows but he is still asking you. He wants you to say the obvious.

"Fuck you!" You mutter before launching yourself to him.

You are kissing him and he is kissing you back. And as you two continue to suck each others lips off your faces, the more your bodies react with the friction and the touches that you are giving.

"Touch me more..." you breathe out. "Please..."

Wooyoung is on top of you, grinding his pelvis on to your covered area. His hands are busy grabbing your ass or your hips. His grind is hard and making sure even with all of those layers of cloth. You could feel his errection ready to penetrate in you.

"You sound so divine..." he hums as he continues to give you wet kisses all over your neck

"Ahh fuck..." you grab onto his hair and pull it so he could look back at you. "This is so wrong... we are friends..."

"Friends my ass..." he smirks. "We're definitely leveling up after this." and goes back to nibbling your skin and leaving kiss marks all over.

He undresses himself totally, throwing his pajamas somewhere while for you, only your shorts and undies are off. He did put the thick blanket over you two as you still feel a little bit shy being this exposed to him. He understands.

"I'll take care of you..." he whispers, kissing the back of your hand. "What will you say if it hurts?"

"Watermelon." Your voice is so soft and weak. You sound nervous. You are not a virgin but of course, the though of fucking your friend still lingers in your brain. It's a new experience.

"Good..." he gives you a long, sweet smooch before he lowers his body closer to you. "I will put it in now... okay?"

"Okay..."

Easing himself in, the stretch is already making your eyes roll at the back of your head. It fucking feels good. He moves his hips slower first to get you adjusted to his size. And while your brain is rotting from the sensation he is also begins exploring your mouth with his tongue.

Oh, That sharp tongue he has. Who knew that he's not just a smart ass, naughty and blunt guy with his words but also this brilliant with kissing.

"Ohh..." you suck in your breathe when you feel him hit the spot. "Oh fuck..." your mouth drops open unable to say any words out as he continues to hit it

"Shit!" He hisses as he felt you tighten. "Your squeezing me..." he lowers his body to embrace you. "Shit... I'm close..."

You wrap your arms around his shoulder and kiss the curve of his neck. "Can you... come in me?"

His cheeks heats up hearing your words. That made his dick twitch. He likes the way you said. "Are you sure?"

You nod. "Please? Don't worry... I'm on birth control. I just... I want to feel it... everything..."

Wooyoung bites his lips, supressing a blushing smile. "Fuck... why do you sound so sexy saying that?"

His dick felt the rush from your words. He continued to thrust fast and strong until you both reached the end goal. Both of you came and flops down to the bed like you hiked Mt. Everest in a day.

"That was amazing..." he proudly smiles. "Are you okay? How are you feeling?"

You cover yourself with the blanket and lay on your side facing him. "I'm okay..." you smile. "I'm sleepy now..." you trail off. "I've never been this tired after having sex before..."

His eyebrows twitches. "Coz you haven't had the taste of me... that's why." He leans over and kisses you on the cheek. "And please... don't mention any of your exes... I'd want them to be erased in your memory... you have me now. Just me... okay?"

Slowly your eyes closes. "Hmmm..." you answer. "Whatever you say..."

He snorts a weak laugh as he watches you slowly go to sleep without even realizing it.

"You're so fucking cute." He says

Wooyoung covers you more, hiding your disheveled and after sex state. Then he gets up to fix himself up so he can sleep next to you. But then, after a few heart beats he hears someone walking down the stairs.

"Yah... seriously... you two should've atleast closed the door." He softly says. It was Seonghwa who looks a bit shookt and worried.

Wooyoung smirks. "Are we that loud?"

"Loud enough to be heard in the living room. You are lucky the rest of the guys are upstairs and Jongho's parents are not here."

"Sorry... we are just..."

"Hush. I am not judging... we already know the things between you two... its kinda obvious..." Seonghwa yawns. "Next time.... just do it when we are not around okay? Just go fucking date or whatever." He turns around and takes a sip of his warm milk. "Also... make it official okay... like say it. You know Y/N likes things to he clear. Don't do what the other guy did." He says before leaving the basement room.

"I will." Wooyoung answers before laying beside you and giving you a kiss on the cheek.

[magicbystarlight]

Before I Knew You - Part Twelve

Bill Weasley x Reader

Masterlist, Part One

Summary: You’ve spent years training under Madam Pomfrey in the hopes that you would join the Healers at St. Mungo’s at graduation. But in the aftermath of the death of Albus Dumbledore, you chose to join the Order instead. When you’re forced into hiding, you find yourself alone with Bill Weasley and his new wolfish tendencies.

Word Count: 3.6k

Warnings: 18+, typical canon warnings, age gap, oral sex (male recieving), angst, allusions to knotting, secrets. Minors DNI.

A/N: Thank you Anon for the inspiration 💕

It was warm, sweat dampening your skin. Something heavy on your chest. Wind on your ear. Your eyes opened with effort. 

Bill remained sleeping peacefully. An ache in your pelvis bloomed as you squirmed out from under him. With effort you stood. The amount of spend that rushed down your thighs was staggering. Despite the soreness there didn’t seem to be anything physically wrong. You ran a diagnostic to be sure. Everything was as it should be. Better for Bill.

Still, your trip to the bathroom was an extended one. You had to sit under the stream of water instead of standing in the shower. When you wobbled back to the room, you were careful to avoid the puddle you’d left on the floor. It was still early. Or late? The sun wasn’t up.

“Bill?”

He groaned as you shook his shoulder. Mumbled something you didn’t understand. It took several more shakes for him to open his eyes. More words you didn’t understand. They didn’t even sound like English. You gave up, laid a kiss on his forehead, and covered him in a new blanket. As you dressed, you saw the evidence of his affections. Bruises on your hips. Hickies and bite marks along your neck and chest. You’d have to sacrifice a bit of Dittany to heal them. 

With Bill deep in sleep, you didn’t feel the need to be quiet. You set the kettle on the stove and opened your notebook to a fresh page.

—

Your third cup had grown cold as you went over the notes again and again. There was too much missing. Too little information about werewolves and nothing about whatever in between Bill was. The little you’d documented was nowhere near enough to understand what had happened. You needed more. 

—

The sun rose higher over the hill, lighting the homes dotting the countryside. Dew wet the hem of your pants as you strided across the lawn. It was early, only a few minutes after sunrise, but you knew they’d be awake. Your knock was too loud for the quiet morning.

Tonks opened the door confused. “Is Bill okay?”

“As fine as he can be with everyone keeping secrets.”

Her face pinched. She checked over your shoulder before moving aside and ushering you in. “Tea or firewhiskey?”

With a grimace as you sat at her small, round table, you answered, “Firewhiskey.” It’s like deja vu as she filled a glass with too much alcohol and set it in front of you. The burn it left was equally as familiar.

She sat across from you, nails clanking against her own glass. “I told Remus it was a bad idea to not tell you everything.” She shook her head. “Doesn’t understand what it’s like to be on this side of things, seeing someone you love go through that sort of thing it’s damn near debilitating, ain’t it?” She downed the glass. “He forgets the bond works both ways.”

“Bond?”

She poured more Firewhiskey into both glasses. “The mating bond.”

—

Bill was still asleep when you returned. You cleaned the remnants of the night before, put a pot of stew to simmer on the stove, returned to the bed, and stared at him. Sweat drenched hair clung to his forehead. Mouth parted with the tiniest trail of drool. An occasional snore that blew across your face. The raised edges of scarred skin contrasted by the smooth expanse between them. He was ethereal. Branded by some demonic force, but still divine. 

And yours. And you his. 

Mated. Bonded. Irrevocably intertwined. Tonks’ revelation left you somewhere between relief and despair. There was no choice in this, not for either of you. Magic had decided and weaved a connection so thoroughly through your beings that there was no hope of any sense of peace or happiness without the other. 

“It doesn’t make it any less real,” Tonks had said quietly in the doorway before you left. Remus had gotten in a few minutes before, somehow convinced you’d only come by to give him a bottle of Murtlap Essence. As angry as you were with him, you couldn’t add that burden when he could barely stand. “What we feel for them, it’s not any less real.”

Your fingers brushed across his forehead, pushing back the hair. All the feelings and desires you had for him, the ones you’d felt so much guilt for, he had them too. You’d known that before. Even if you’d tried to explain it away, deep down you’d known. Maybe you’d been trying to protect yourself. Maybe you’d been trying to protect him. It didn’t matter. All that repression and denial had been pointless. Had hurt more than helped him. 

That’s why last night happened. She’d called it a knot. Her information was limited, only her own experience and what little Remus had been able to learn from his time amongst different communities. And even that was dubious as the reasoning varied amongst groups. Some thought it was for mating, to try to increase the extremely low birth rate, while others thought it was meant to strengthen the bond between mates, and still others thought it was meant to be some form of rejeunitve ritual to contrast the extreme tolls of the transformation. Tonks' best guess was that it was somewhere in between all three. 

They tended to deal with it in the days before and after the full moon. “It’s usually quite pleasant,” she’d said. “We just lay together for a few minutes until the swelling goes down. That first full moon though,” her whole body shivered, “it was like it’d built up when we were dancing around the bush. I was sore for a good two weeks. But Remus looked better than he had in months.”

You could have helped him sooner. Forgone all the angst and pain. If only you’d known before it had gotten complicated. 

“Does anyone else know about the mate stuff?”

Sadness had etched into her brow. “Not anyone still alive.”

It’s when the sun is at its highest in the sky that he finally wakes. You were in the garden when he joined you, fresh from the shower, clad on in boxers, and holding a bowl of stew. “I’d say morning,” you teased, “but that was a couple hours ago.”

He gave a dopey, lopsided grin. Beautiful. He was so beautiful.

You stood, dusting off the dirt, and went to his side. The heat from his body seeped through the fabric of your shirt. With a tilt of your head, you pressed a chaste kiss to the corner of his lips.

He sniffed. "Tonks came by?"

"No, I, uh, went to see her," you said, heading inside.

"Alone?" His hand grabbed yours, and he spun you toward him.

"In hindsight, stupid, I know, but," you shrugged, "I was worried about you. About what had happened last night."

"You should've woken me."

"I tried." You laid your free hand on his chest. "I won't do it again."

He sighed. "I'm sorry, love." He pulled you against him, his arms tight around you. His cheek rested against the top of your head. His breath blew over your ear, sending a shiver down your spine. “What’d she say?”

You shrugged again. “It was just some leftover physiological stuff from wolves. Might happen again tonight and will every full moon, but it’ll be less intense. Nothing to worry about.”

—

Two full moons passed. The cottage had become more active. Order members were frequent visitors now. Between physicals, injuries, and the brief run of a rather vicious flu, you were kept fairly busy as a Healer. And when you weren’t, the various members had worked with you on improving your defensive spells. You weren’t great, but you had gotten better. To the point you no longer stayed at the cottage at all times. You were at Order meetings now and had been waiting at their rendezvous point during their important missions. 

One of those missions had been raiding an apothecary hidden amongst the hills beyond a muggle village. Stealing wasn’t something the Order typically approved of, but as the owner had taken out several ads in the Daily Prophet boasting they were working on a potion that would detect Muggleborns, an exception had been made. Its success left you with a diverse collection of ingredients and mediocrely brewed potions. Including an extensive stash of Occamy eggs.

Your first attempt at the Wolfsbane Potion hadn’t been successful, but you had high hopes for the second.

“…four, five, six,” George counted his stirs and stepped aside for you to wave your wand over the cauldron again. You waited. His nails tapped against the counter. Nothing. You covered his hand to stop them. Your shoulders slumped. Another failure. You turned away from the offending cauldron and began to clean up the prep. “It’s a difficult potion,” George said, grabbing the chopping boards and utensils to walk over to the sink. “We’ll get it next time.”

“Yeah,” you agreed halfheartedly over the sound of the running water, “next time.”

George was one of your more constant companions. Fred had been too, early on. He hadn’t been by in over a month. “Tomorrow?”

The cabinet shut with a loud slam that made you cringe. “Can’t.” Without a word, he handed you a clean, damp rag before returning to scrubbing a knife. “Remus wants everyone to start carrying some chocolate at all times, but we don’t really trust the wizard stuff anymore. He dropped off a satchel of some muggle ones I’ve got to melt down and add some Anti-Melting Potion to. Think I might try infusing some with dittany, see how it works out.”

“Think we could try some with Wit-Sharpening Potion? Those things always made me feel foggy.”

Your hand stopped mid swipe. “That’s bloody brilliant, George.”

He laughed. “No need to sound so surprised. Got a whole line of potion infused sweets, you know?”

“Oh I remember,” you said, a smile crawling up your cheeks. “Bane of my existence during exam week.”

George was great at distractions. He kept the conversation going, talking about the different techniques they had started making their own. He talked and talked without mentioning the still full cauldron as he helped prepare dinner. He had you laughing at some story of the time they’d slipped a Fire-Breath Butterscotch into their mum’s candy bowl and Arthur nearly burnt down the Burrow. “Hell of a Howler Mum sent. Would’ve made a great ad if we could’ve saved it.” We. Always we. Never him and—

“How is Fred?” you asked, pushing onion around the pan.

“Better. Not coming around to it yet, but,” he shrugged, “not as angry.”

The oil sizzles and bubbles as the chicken hits it, bouncing up to try to burn you for the disruption. “He doesn’t have any right to be angry. It's not like we knew.”

“Maybe not, but he still is. Keeps saying Bill planned this all out to get you to himself. And yes it’s ridiculous,” he said before you could, “and I’m sure he knows it’s ridiculous, but he’s hurt. Wants to believe if things had worked out differently, if he’d been here more or if you’d been with us instead, it’d be him.”

“It doesn’t matter how differently things could have gone, it’d still be Bill.”

“Maybe. It’s the what ifs that make it hard for him.”

There were no what ifs. It was always, would always, be Bill. But you couldn’t tell him that. “I just wish he’d be happy for his brother. After he’s gone through, he deserves some happiness.”

George’s hand rested on your shoulder and pressed an affectionate kiss to your hair. “And so do you. Don’t let Fred’s jealousy ruin it. He’ll come around eventually. Might take a close call or two, but eventually.”

—

Bill sniffed your hair and made a face. “George is lucky he’s my second favorite brother.”

“Mine too.”

“As long as I’m first.”

“First? Why on earth would you be first? No, no, it’s Charlie, obviously, then George, then Percy when he gets his head out of his ass, then Ron, that ghoul pretending to be Ron right now, and lastly Fred if he ever gets his head out of his ass.”

“I don’t even make the list?”

You grinned up at him. “Of my favorite brother-in-laws? What, you think me and Ginny are a better fit?”

He growled, though it was more a laugh. “You love riling me up, don’t you?”

“I would never do such a thing.” 

—

“Higher,” Remus said, nudging your arm. “Keep your feet firm. It’s got a kick.” That you didn’t need to be told. You’d already been knocked on your ass twice. “When you’re ready.” One breath. Two. The spell shot out, turquoise light hitting the dummy square in the chest. It flew back, arms flailing, and crashed against the cliff face a hundred yards away. The impact made it shatter. “That was fantastic!” 

You didn’t share his smile. It was only meant to knock them back and incapacitate a target. Not decimate it. “That would’ve killed a person.”

“Yes,” he agreed, more solemn. “A person who would have no qualms over killing you. Or anyone else. Sometimes we’ll have to make difficult decisions to protect the people we love.”

The wand in your hand seemed heavy. Magic had the ability to do so much good. And the ability to do so much evil. “I think that’s enough for today.” He let you retreat into the cottage without a fight. Where George would have spoken, Remus was silent. He let you wade in your own thoughts undisturbed.

—

24 December 1989

“I don’t understand,” your mother said, staring at the wall of potions. “Can they cure colds or heal wounds or regrow bones?”

You nodded eagerly, gripping her hand. You knew she’d be impressed. “All of the above! And more! I can even learn to make them! There’s also healing spells I’ll get to do when I’m older. Incredible, isn’t it?”

“Yeah,” she said. “Incredible.”

You sat on the stairs, head against the wall listening to them talk. Mum had been sad after you’d gotten back. You knew it because she’d gotten out her crossstitch she hadn’t touched in a year. You’d thought it was because Dad had been working and couldn’t see. But when you told her you could bring dad another day she’d said no. They’d sent you off to bed early too, claiming an early day.

“...all these medicines and treatments when just a couple drops of these potions could cure it all. They can regrow bones, Alan. And that’s just the beginning of it. And they keep it to themselves. These potions could be saving countless lives and they’re keeping it to themselves.”

3 March 1990

“The separation of our worlds keeps more Muggles safe. While we might be able to save some, if they were to be more exposed to the things of our world—like Dragon Pox or misfired spells—far more would die. Their bodies aren’t built for magical intervention. We save more by staying away.”

1 July 1990

Your parents smiled warmly, waving their arms from their spot outside one of the gift shops. You pulled your trunk along and tried to match their smiles. So much had changed since Christmas. They’d never step on Platform 9 ¾ again. It was for the best, Dumbledore had assured. It was better for them to forget about magic and the medical miracles it could perform. They’d be safer and happier that way.

Your parents wrapped you in a tight hug. “Your marks were fantastic,” your father said. “We’re so proud of you, Bug.”

— 

“They don’t remember that you’re a witch?”

Bill had found you on the floor of the room you shared, the photos Corbin had taken of your parents spread across it. You didn’t have any other photos of them. “Mum had a kid die on her after a bad car accident. She knew magic would’ve saved him. So she started reaching out to Dumbledore, refusing to believe there was no good reason to keep magic out of Muggle medicine. Not if it could save people.” Her head was thrown back in a laugh at something your father said in one of the photos. “She became a risk to the Statue of Secrecy. Dumbldore acted before the Ministry could find out. And my dad couldn’t know if mum didn’t. Too risky.”

“Where did they think you were every year?”

“Some prestigious school over in Finland. They think I’m over there now, working on a degree.”

“But they got you the farm.”

“Thought it was better than dumping money into an account in my name. An abandoned farm didn’t need upkeep.” Your fingers brushed over one of the photos of them having dinner at a restaurant they loved. When you were younger, before McGonnagal had come along, you’d go as a family every Thursday. “Sometimes I think Dumbledore’s charm worked too well. Like they forget I exist when I’m not around. I’m not sure they’ll notice if I never see them again.”

“Of course they’d notice.”

You didn’t argue. They were happier living in ignorant bliss. Just like he was. “You’re right,” you said, wiping your eyes and gathering the photos. His hands joined yours in collecting them. You smiled along as he said how much you looked like your father.

—

Blue smoke billowed out the cauldron. You blinked. Blue smoke. Blue smoke. Blue smoke!

George’s excited yelps sounded far away, even as he picked you up and spun you around. “We did it! We fucking did it!” 

—

Bill’s focus on the paper strayed as you sank to your knees in front of the couch. “What are you doing, love?”

Your fingers teased up the side of his legs. "Nothing." Your eyes locked onto his and you smiled innocently. You held them until they fluttered shut as one of your hands grazed his clothed cock that twitched from the attention. He was already hard. Fingers trailed light paths up and down his cock, his hips jerking upwards, but he didn’t say a word. The paper crumpled slightly, his knuckles going white.

"Something wrong, Bill?"

His head dropped back and the paper fell forgotten to the floor. "You're a brat, you know that?"

"Oh?" Your hand cupped his cock, rubbing the palm against it. He let out a groan.

"You want me to fuck you, is that it?"

"No," you said, "not yet." With practiced ease, your fingers undid his pants. His hips lifted so you could pull them and his boxers down to his knees. You licked your lips at the sight. "Right now I want to hear what pretty noises you can make for me." Before he could reply, your mouth wrapped around his cock. Bill cried out, hips jerking. You relaxed your jaw and added your hand to his base to help with the size.

"Fuck," he breathed, "fuck, fuck."

You sucked and bobbed. Your free hand slid along his thighs, dipping to brush against his sack every so often. He moaned and groaned. His hands clutched to the couch so tightly you were surprised it didn't rip.

"Love, I'm close," he gasped, his hips lifting. You maintained the rhythm you’d built, only deviating by using your hand to cup his balls. His cock twitched in your mouth, the tip hitting the back of your throat. His back arched as he spilled. You swallowed all of him, the salty taste familiar. You let him slip out after one last swipe of your tongue made him shiver and rested your head against his thigh, listening to him catch his breath.

"I don't know if I should be offended," you mused. "I don't think fucking me has ever made you cum that fast."

He let out a breathy laugh. "Only cause I have amazing restraint, love." His hand lifted your chin and he leaned forward. "Your mouth is wonderful," he said between slow kisses, "but your cunt is damn near enchanted." His wandering hands made his intentions clear. 

But the tell-tell pop of Apparition had him groaning, already working on tucking himself away. Considering the amount of time you’d almost been walked in on, this wasn’t nearly as bad. At least he got to finish.  Lee's voice traveled through the cracked window, "Do you need a minute to make yourselves presentable?"

"Oh they better not." George's disgusted voice rose to add, "You knew we were coming over!"

Bill's eyebrow rose and you grinned back innocently. “It’s a good thing you were quick.” A quick peck against his incoherently mumbling lips and then you stood, heading towards the bathroom. "It's safe!"

—

Bill was out of bed before you even sat up, wand in hand. “Stay here,” he whispered as an unfamiliar voice called out his name over the knocking. You followed. The sun hadn’t risen yet and that cottage was still dark. You stayed behind the couch as he approached the door. Wand pointed, he opened it.

Ron stood there. He looked thinner than the last time you’d seen him. His hair longer, a patchy beard on his face. Leaves and twigs clung to his clothes, there were scratches across his face, and mud caked on his shoes and the hem of his pants. 

Bill hadn’t lowered his wand. “What did Percy find in his stocking Christmas of ‘89?”

“Gnome dung,” he said, voice hoarse. “But Pettigrew would know that too. You should ask something more recent.”

Bill ignored the suggestion. He pitched forward to embrace his youngest brother, nearly sending the two of them tumbling in the sand. “And Harry? Hermione?”

“Alive, but,” his voice cracked and he clung to his brother, “I left ‘em. I left and I can’t go back.”

Before I Knew You Tag List: @believinghurts @frozenwisteria @maralisa124 @kyla-hale-blog @voiddylanobrosey @pearlsofme @minstens @sofriane @sheeple @hotleaf-juice @elnmop @sweetphantomofyournoodler @remuslupinscumslutt @thesecretwriter @cali-girl-in-heart @thxtmarvelchick @i-wished-upon-a-star-one-night @bitch-biblioklept @unstableyetloveable @psamathegoesrawr @camelliaflow3r @undeniablyyou @luciferismybabe @luvrsbian @pink-hufflepuff @queen-of-elves @bountydroid @solkee @m-rae23 @queenofbeingdepressed @smolmexicangirl @mae-foster @seb-buckybarnes @idga-fudgeicle @jessyballet

HP Tag List: @bamboozledflamplant @squishytomatoes @benonlinear @byelannie @pancakefancake

[my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction]

One For The Road [6]

Cecil Dennis x afab!Reader • Rating: 18+ pals •Masterlist• ao3• want to be tagged? | requestinfo• ko-fi •

Series Masterlist

Summary: You need to get some answers.

A/N: Ahh, we have reached the end! A massive thank you to @thexsanctuaryx for beta reading this series! <3

Warnings: Cecil crying (a lot), talk of pregnancy, anxiety, there's a happy ending, swearing, please let me know if I've missed a warning!

Word Count: 1319

Your first instinct is to leave. Just go. Walk out and drive home and delete his number and never talk to him again. 

But then his panicked face and pleading eyes echoed in your mind, reverberating to the point of madness. 

Just go. Walk out and drive home and delete his number and ignore him for a few days.

But that seemed cruel too. 

You’d only just been doing whatever the hell you and Cecil had been doing recently. Neither of you had talked about what you actually were and besides, it definitely seemed like Danielle and him were no longer seeing each other, or sleeping together. Or…

You needed to know. At the very least, you owed yourself answers.

So, instead, you moped around the house a little, picking halfheartedly at the pancakes Cecil had been making, the ones he’d finished now cold. 

In the rush he’d left his phone upstairs, so it wasn’t as if you could message him about when he’d be back. 

You didn’t know when Harry would return either. Part of you toys with the idea of leaving a note or message for him to contact you when he gets back, just so you could go home and sidestep any possible awkward conversations. 

Just as you are considering what to write, the front door slams open with the kind of force that should have, but luckily didn’t, rip it off its hinges. 

Cecil bursts inside, wide eyed, sweaty, and panicked. He looks delirious, like he’s run twenty miles in the desert with no water. 

He almost doesn’t notice you sitting at the kitchen table as he falls inside, but he manages to stop his body from running up the stairs and grabbing his phone when he sees you. 

Your name falls out of his lips nervously, a whispered mumble that breaks a little at the end. His eyes teary. 

He takes a step forward, his hands twitching at his sides as he goes to reach out for you, but he stops himself. 

“She’s not pregnant.”

You don’t get a chance to answer as all his words come out in a rush of sound. 

“She’s not pregnant, I promise, look I even got the doctor to give me proof.” He pulls out a folded piece of paper from his jeans. “It’s got her signature and the doctor’s contact info, you can check it all online too, make sure it’s real. She said you can call her to confirm that Danielle’s not pregnant, I explained to her, to the Doctor, she was really nice, she said she’d talk to you and-”

“Cecil,” you say softly as you stand and take his shaking hands in yours. “It’s okay.”

“Danielle– we slept together a few times about two months ago, but I always used a condom, always, and they didn’t break. And then we stopped hanging out because she’s…”

You wait, giving him space to finish as you stroke his hand.

“She’s kind of mean, and then we don’t talk, she blocks me and suddenly a few weeks ago she messages me saying she’s pregnant and I’m the Dad and I need to send her all this money.” He looks up at you hopefully. “I, I don’t have that kind of money… She wanted me to go to the first doctor’s appointment and, I think she really did think she was pregnant, but she wasn’t. And, and she told me the date, it was next week. For sure. I remember, I have the message, I can show you. It wasn’t today. Otherwise… otherwise…”

“It’s okay.” You give him a reassuring smile and take the doctor’s letter out of his hands and place it on the table. 

“You hate me…” His voice completely breaks at the end, his face crumpling as the dam bursts and tears start to flow. 

“Shh, shh, shh,” you wrap your arms around him quickly, holding him close and squeezing him tight. You rub his back as he weeps into you, burying his face into your neck. “How could I hate you, hmm?” You kiss his temple and he cries harder. 

“You hate my kisses that much? They make you cry?” You tease lightly, trying to cheer him.

He shakes his head rapidly, still sobbing, but trying to stop. “I love them.” He insists through tears. 

“Yeah?” You kiss his temple again, and then his cheek.

“Yeah, yes, I love them so much, I love you.” He blurts out and then sobs harder in the beat of silence that follows. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m-”

“Shhh,” you lean back so you can hold his face in both of your hands and look into his eyes. “Why are you sorry, sweet thing?” 

“I, I, I,” he hiccups and swallows trying to force his tears down. “I thought you’d be gone and never speak to me again, and I ran all the way here back from the doctor’s because I didn’t want to be in the car with her for a second longer, and you hate me and now I said I love you and I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry.”

You stroke his cheeks with your thumbs and kiss his lips lightly. His breathing hitches. 

“Cecil,” you say softly, “take a seat and I’ll get you some water.” 

He shakes his head, “Can I hold your hand while you get water?” 

You smile, your chest heavy and you nod. 

He holds your bicep, pressing his forehead against your shoulder as you fill a glass. He sits when you guide him to the table and takes the water when you offer it. He drinks quickly, trying to swallow as much as possible to please you. 

“Hey, don’t choke.” You say gently, taking the glass out of his hands - half full - and sit down next to him. 

He looks at you sadly from under his wet lashes, little shudders of his cries echoing on his body. “I get it… if you don’t want to ever see me again.” 

“Cecil,” You stroke his hair and he presses his head to your hand, closing his eyes. “It’s okay. I promise.” 

His eyes snap open as he looks at you, confusion and shock plastered all over his face. “You…?”

“Me…?” You tease a little. 

“You don’t hate… you want to…?” 

“I want you dummy,” you smile and kiss him again gently, a soft brush of your lips to his.

He moves after you quickly, deepening in kiss and moaning softly. The moment he pulls back he’s crying again. “Sorry, sorry, sorry,” he waves his hand and wipes at his eyes, “happy tears, happy tears.”

“You’re so sweet.” You give his hand a little squeeze. 

He shakes his head. “I’m a piece of shit. I should have told you… I just didn’t…” He sighs, “I didn’t want to put you off. You’re already so kind and hot and put together, and I’m just-”

“Shh.” You grin and he smiles back. “Besides, we’re not… we never talked about being… you know. We never set any boundaries.” 

He nods. “I’d like to… be like… going steady.” 

You can’t help but giggle at the sincere way he says it, the honesty in his tone just causes joy to bubble in your chest. 

His smile widens as you laugh. “Is that a yes?” 

You nod. “Yes.” 

He grins wildly and kisses all over your face repeatedly until you're laughing so hard you almost can’t breathe. 

“Sorry, sorry,” he chuckles as he moves back. 

“Stop saying sorry.” 

“Sorry.” 

You snort and then pause. “Would you still like to come over to mine?” 

His eyes widen a little, glittering in the light. “Three day food and fuck weekend?” 

You let out a bark of laughter and nod. “Three day food and fuck weekend.” 

He kisses you again, sweetly this time. “I don’t deserve you.” He whispers against your lips.

“That’s okay. I don’t deserve you either.” 

Thank you for reading!

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[dangraccoon]

I Won't Leave You

Crosshair & Hunter

Warnings: intense training, discussion of decommissioning, loss of squad members (OCs that I made to explain why Tech seems to carry multiple roles), resignation to a supposed death

Note: this fic is not clone shipping. Nothing I write is clone shipping.

Mando'a Guide Osik'uram - rude person (literally "shit mouth") Di'kut - idiot

Crosshair’s arms were getting sore from holding up the too large rifle. The weight of it was familiar, but it had been hours of holding it up; his arms were getting weaker. 

“CT-9904,” the surly bounty hunter—who was now his instructor—growled. “How can you possibly expect to be a sniper if you can’t hold still?”

Crosshair knew it was a rhetorical question; he’d been punished for “speaking out of turn” when he’d answered before. He wouldn’t answer him this time, despite the resentment boiling in his gut. Instead he just rolled his eyes under the cover of his helmet. 

“Run it again,” the instructor warned. “Do better this time.”

That all too familiar knot formed in Crosshair’s throat, but he swallowed it down. Soldiers didn’t get nervous, right?

The simulation began and he fell into a rapid rhythm, taking down training droids one by one. 

Simulated sounds of war blared over the speakers; explosions all around him, screams of people being injured, never ending blasterfire. Then the rain started. Crosshair felt the temperature in the room drop. He hated the cold. His hands tightened on his rifle, but did not stop his rhythmic firing. 

The rain grew colder and heavier until it would be nearly impossible for anyone to see clearly through it, but Crosshair wasn’t just anyone. His eyes adjusted rapidly, easily seeing through the sheets of freezing rain. 

He’d been counting, of course. He only had 14 more targets and the simulation would be over. Maybe I can leave after this round, he thought, knowing that this was only the eighth time they’d been through this simulation today. Idly, he wondered how his brothers were fairing in their training today. 

A noise behind him nearly startled him, breaking his concentration and his rhythm. He spun around just in time to see the blue circle of stun bolt about to hit him. 

He woke up in a medical bay, head aching and eyes burning from the bright lights overhead. 

A medical droid hovered next to him. “CT-9904, you are awake,” it told him. “I will alert the medic.”

Crosshair watched the droid go, irritated by its happy tone, then closed his aching eyes. 

“Hey, Cross,” someone said. That voice was far too familiar. 

“Hunter,” he replied simply. 

“You okay?”

Crosshair didn’t answer, his brow furrowing into the deep scowl. 

“Right, stupid question,” Hunter admitted. “Are you hurt?”

“Don’t think so,” Crosshair shrugged. “Head hurts. Lights are too bright.”

Hunter wasn’t sure what to say, but as the newly minted leader of their squad, he figured it ought to be something positive. “Don’t worry, Cross, you’ll get it next time.”

Crosshair sighed. “There won’t be a next time, Hunter.”

Hunter scowled at his slightly younger brother, even though the other couldn’t see him. “Don’t talk like that.”

“We should just accept it,” Crosshair shrugged. “I got lucky during the initial testing; I only outshot Tech by six points.”

“Crosshair, you were made to-”

“I hate that he’ll have to take my job when he’s already got Fixer and Bugg’s on top of his own.”

“Cross-”

“Maybe you could take on piloting, too,” he suggested, ignoring his brother and squad leader’s attempts at redirecting the conversation. “I know you scored higher than me and Wrecker.”

“Would you just-”

“Oh! And make sure you don’t tell Wrecker that 99 and I made Lula for him; I’ve got an image to maintain even after I’m dead.”

“You’re not gonna-”

“You gotta make sure Tech sleeps. I know he’ll be busy with four roles instead of three, but he’ll work himself to death before choosing to sleep. But if you wrap him up in a blanket like a tubie, he knocks right out.”

“Crosshair, please. Please stop.”

He did, unable to continue after hearing the desperation in Hunter’s words. 

“You’re not getting decommissioned,” Hunter affirmed.

“Hunter-”

“No. I was too late to save Bugg and Fixer, but I’ll die before I let the long-necks take away another one of my brothers.”

The regret and guilt that permeated his voice stung. He knew Hunter blamed himself for not helping the others enough, but hearing him now, he realized that his older brother blamed himself entirely for the loss of their brothers. 

“I-” Hunter whispered, not daring to look at his brother. “I can’t lose you too.”

“You won’t,” Crosshair promised, reaching out to touch Hunter’s wrist. He looked up to see his brother’s signature smirk. “Can’t get rid of me that easily, ya know.” (I won’t leave you.)

Hunter chuckled as he wiped a stray tear onto his sleeve. A sense of normalcy crashed over him like a wave. “Yeah, well, first time you go off on your own during a training sim, I’m throwing you in the water.” (I won’t let you.)

Crosshair scoffed. “Osik’uram.” (I love you, brother.)

“Di’kut.” (I know, and I love you, too.)

Thanks for reading! - River

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[cinnaleaf]

ESSENCE OF US - CH 7: ALL THAT GLITTERS...* [FT. YAPPING TRENT]

Please read responsibly. This fic will get hot and heavy as the story progresses, 18+ only MDNI | READ CH 6 | MASTERLIST | READ CH 8 [soon]

summary: a fleeting encounter with a mysterious Trent leaves you wondering if fate is playing a bigger match. your paths continue to cross in unexpected places as the fragrances around you mirror the growing tension between you. maybe it's just a coincidence..or maybe its destiny in the making.

warnings: ANGST, SMUT, praise kink, power shift, begging, unprotected sex, language, implied anxiety genre: angst, fluff, slow(ish) burn romance wc: ~7.2k

The moment your voice cracked through the phone, Trent exhaled like he was holding his breath all night.

“Trent????” you asked again, wiping your eyes and sitting up against the headboard. You felt comfortable in your safe space, but the tension from Trent’s silence had you more awake than you wanted to be at such an early hour.

“Y/N” he said shakily. “You answered.”

You frowned, still half awake. “Mhm..why wouldn’t I?”

“Been calling you for hours...I thought you were pissed,” he admitted, you could feel the guilt laced in his voice. Your phone had been dead the majority of the night after the interview; mainly due to the onslaught of notifications. “Oh, baby no. I wasn’t ignoring you. My phone died from all the madness and I just..fell asleep.” You yawned, tugging your blanket up towards you. “You were worrying all night?”

“Yeah..I thought I messed up everything,” he murmured, sounding unsure of himself. He was clearly torturing himself all night, thinking you were angry at him, and it pulled at your heartstrings. “I mean..it wasn’t ideal that's for sure,” you admitted. “But it’s not the end of the world Trent. I know you didn’t do it on purpose.”

“Still..” he pressed in a heavier tone. “I promised you I would keep this shit away from you and instead I brought you right into it. Everyone knows now.” You sighed, still trying to wake yourself up. He was expecting an angry outburst from you based on the texts you sent, but you weren’t that mad at him, just extremely exhausted.

“You didn’t drag me into anything. It was bound to happen eventually and I knew that when we got together. It’s just...a part of your world I have to get used to, I guess,” the weight of your words sunk in as you said them out loud. There was silence on the other end that stretched for a ridiculously long time. Trent felt uneasy about something, and you could tell he was holding back.

“So...you’re not mad?” he finally asked, sounding so fragile. 

You sighed, wishing you could pull him into a hug from your end of the phone. “Well..I’m not gonna lie and say I’m happy about it.. but I’m not angry either. Just tired.”

“You sure?”

“I promise. It’s just....” you trailed off, trying to gather the thoughts from your sleep induced haze. “It’s been a really long day.”

That caught his attention immediately. He loved to yap. If there was an open ended question that would result in a long conversation, he was definitely going to ask; partially to hear your voice, and the other just to yap.

“What happened? Tell me.”

You let out a long sigh, rubbing your temples as the events from the day rushed back to you. “Love Notes was insane today. The phone wouldn’t stop ringing after your interview. People were coming in asking about the aftershave like I had it already. And to top it off, some kids came in and broke one of the fragrances. It gave me the worst fucking headache ever.” You didn’t feel the need to mention the conversation with your parents or the anxiety attack, it felt too heavy for the moment, and you weren't sure if you were ready to talk about it either.

“Shit. I didn’t know it got that bad. I didn’t know the logo was showing until I read your texts on the plane. How are you feeling? You should drink more water,” he rambled, sounding completely spent but still holding on for the yap session.

“I feel better... but Camille keeps bringing up hiring an assistant and..I just don’t know.”

Trent’s voice perked up slightly, “Well..baby she’s not wrong.” You rolled your eyes, feeling annoyed that he was suggesting it as well. “Trent. Don’t start. I’ve heard enough from everyone already.”

“I’m just saying—”

“I know,” you interrupted, sounding more sharp than you intended to. “Everyone thinks I can’t handle it. I don’t get why no one believes I can do this on my own? It’s my business.” Trent was silent for a while, and you felt bad for snapping, but the frustration was building all day. “Y/N...nobody thinks you can’t handle it,” he said gently. “But you’re only one person. You can’t do everything by yourself.”

“Yeah, but it feels like no one believes in me,” you mumbled, rubbing your eyes. “What if I can handle it? Like, what if I don’t need an assistant? It’s fine. I’m fine.” Trent sighed, his voice softer. “No one doubts you’re not good at what you do, Y/N. Everyone has their limit. Tyler helps me out all the time. You should think about it, it’s not a bad idea.”  You sighed, feeling a little deflected. “Okayyyy. I’ll think about it.” He laughed at your annoyance with him, a brief silence following before he spoke again in a softer voice. “I haven’t slept all night and it’s almost 5AM.”

“Trent, what the hell? You’ve been up this entire time?” 

“Yeah,” he said, voice wound with exhaustion. “Couldn’t stop thinking about you.”

“Aww. Baby, you have to go to sleep. Please..for me?” you murmured, dropping your voice.

“I will. Just wanted to hear your voice…”

“You heard it..now go to sleep. I’ll be here when you wake up.” you said gently, knowing he would want to yap even more.

He let out a tired chuckle but you could hear the weariness in his voice. “I wish you were here...next to me.” His sleepy admission made you smile. “I wish I was too. But pleaseee go to bed. Just call me when you wake up.”

He hummed in response, still talking but whispering. “Mm, yeah. Sleep. Just wanna be with you. Always…”  

You giggled softly, “We have plenty of time for that later. Just sleep.” He continued talking, slurring his words as he slowly lost his grip on consciousness. “When the season is over...we should go on holiday. Just us.” You perked up at the idea, remembering you were thinking the same thing earlier. “Oh, yeah? Where to?”

“Don’t care as long as I’m with you...somewhere warm,” he mumbled. “Santorini...or south of France.” You smiled hearing him planning already, despite being half awake. “What about the Maldives? Oh! Oh!! Or maybe St. Barths?”

“Hawaii,” he added sleepily, his words getting slower and slower. “11 hour time difference though, we’d be so jet lagged.”

“Yeah, but it would be worth it just to be with you on the beach somewhere. I heard Ka'anapali is nice.”

“Yeah…just..us” his voice was fading fast, sleep pulling him into a dream about your future holiday. “I love you.” 

You froze immediately.

You could’ve sworn you heard him say 'I love you', but you thought for sure you misheard him. It was late and you were both exhausted. There’s no way he said that.

Right?

No no no, he didn’t. You were probably mishearing him. He definitely said “I’d love to.” That made a lot more sense given the conversation. You heard it wrong. You were sure you did.

“Trent?” you whispered, but the sound of soft breathing let you know he was already fast asleep. You leaned back against the pillows, trying to convince yourself you definitely didn’t hear him say those words for the first time while he was half asleep. He was exhausted, you were tired...it obviously had to be ‘I’d love to.’ You pressed the button to end the call, dropping your phone next to you as you pulled the blankets around yourself. As you drifted back to sleep, you convinced yourself whatever you heard was a figment of your overworked, sleepy imagination.

Maybe you did need an assistant.

A few hours later you woke up, groaning into your pillow as the memory of last night came up in your mind:

‘I love you’ or ‘I’d love to’ ?

It felt like a dream, but it wasn’t. You sat up, trying to shake the drowsiness off. There’s absolutely no way he said that half asleep, over the phone. You were delusional and exhausted from everything going on. Clearly, you were running yourself into the ground, and now you were hearing things. Camille was right.

You grabbed your phone to scroll through the endless notifications from yesterday. There were texts and calls from people you barely knew, all asking for 'The Trent Scent'. It felt like the whole world was on your ass about it. You never planned for anyone to know it existed, yet suddenly it was all anyone cared about. You wanted to crawl back in bed and rot for a week but you knew better, you had things to handle. Which now included possibly finding an assistant. You hated admitting Camille and Trent were right, but it was becoming too much. You dragged yourself out of bed and tiptoed downstairs to the kitchen, where Camille was making some weird health nut smoothie. She glanced up when she saw you, stifling a laugh. “Morning, babe. You look terrible.” You rolled your eyes, leaning against the counter. “I feel like shit. Didn’t sleep great.”

“Rough night?” Camille asked, turning off the blender. She poured two glasses and handed you one. “Try this. It’ll make you feel better. Trust.” 

You eyed the glass skeptically. “What’s in it? Why is it three different colors?”

“Strawberries, dates, collagen powder, sea moss, avocado..some other stuff.” Camille grinned, sipping from her glass. “It’s really good, I swear.” You reluctantly took a sip, expecting to frown immediately–but it actually wasn’t bad. It tasted like dessert for breakfast, but was somehow healthy. “Okay.. this is so good,” you muttered between sips. 

“See?” Camilled said, smirking. “I tried it at Erewhon when I went to LA. My skin is glowing. It’s the collagen.” You couldn’t deny it tasted amazing, but you silently laughed at Camille finding a way to bring Erewhon across continents. Your mind faltered back to the conversation you had with Trent a couple of hours ago and you groaned.

“Camille…I think I’m losing it. Actually going mad. Legitimately.” 

Camille snorted, almost choking on her smoothie. “You’re so dramatic Y/N. What’s up?” You sighed, placing a hand on your hip. “I was on the phone last night with Trent, and I swear I heard him say ‘I love you.’”

“Okay… andddd?”

“I don’t know!” you blurted, throwing your hands up dramatically. “He was half asleep, I was knackered..I had to mishear him. I think he said ‘I’d love to’ because we were talking about going on holiday. He had to or else it doesn’t make sense, right?” Camille gave you an amused look. “A bit random to say it mid-snooze, yeah. But..nothing about the two of you is ordinary in the slightest. Stranger things have happened. What did you say back?”

“Obviously nothing!! Hung up and convinced myself I imagined it. I was so tired.”

Camille laughed, shaking her head. “Yeah, well, he’s definitely in deep..so who knows. Maybe you didn’t imagine it, but what’s the big deal? You love him, no?” You bit your lip, contemplating. “It’s just..ugh. I don’t know. Everything is moving so chaotically..” Camille studied you for a moment, like she knew something you hadn’t figured out just yet; she would wait until you figured it out yourself. “That brings me to my next point...you need help at the boutique. Especially now.”

You groaned again, “I get it!! Why does everyone keep reminding me?”

“Because it's true! You’re doing the work of like five different people. And girl, I love you, but I’m exhausted just watching you move like this.”

“I’m fine!” you whined, though the fatigue in your face told a different story. “It’s just a little rough patch. No biggie.” Camille gave you a pointed look. “You fell asleep before I could even pour any wine last night. That’s not a rough patch babes, you’re running on fumes. I can’t believe you did me like that.” You scowled at her, not wanting to admit she had a point. “I’m just scared…I put my whole life into that place.”

“I get why you’re protective over it. But an assistant could help out a lot. Plus, you’ll be able to spend more time with Trent.” You sighed, giving in a little. Having more free time did sound nice, regardless of Trent being included in the perk. “Fine. But I’m picking who gets hired.”

“Fucking finally,” Camille laughed. “But I’m still helping.” You dropped your jaw in disbelief, partially smirking. “No help from your dad, though.”

“Our dad, you mean. But yeah, I promise. Cross my heart and all that,” Camille said, crossing her fingers.

You smiled, reaching for your laptop, eager to get it over with. “Let’s just get this sorted before I regret it,” you muttered while logging in to draft the job posting. Camille grabbed her phone, glancing over your shoulder as she watched you type. “The charity gala is coming up in a couple weeks..do you know what you and Trent are wearing yet?” You gasped, fingers pausing over the keyboard. “I forgot all about that..oh my days. I really am losing it.” 

“Y/N, how could you forget?! I can’t wait to see what everyone wears.” You let out a small laugh, trying to focus on the job posting. “Clearly I’ve been busy. I just hope it isn’t as chaotic as last time. I think I reached my limit for that this year already.” Camille smirked, “Speaking of chaos..remind me to take Jude’s phone the moment he grabs a drink. We don’t need another Paris situation.” You bursted out laughing, “A little too late for that, I think. I’m actually tired of tiptoeing around..people know anyway.” 

“Oooh, thinking about an official pop out?” Camille asked, curiously.

“Absolutely not. But I just don’t see the point anymore. Maybe people will leave me alone if I just give them what they want.” The gears started turning in your head as soon as the words left your lips. If people were going to keep hounding you about Rêveur, maybe you could do something meaningful with it. “...What if I released a limited batch of Rêveur for the gala? And all proceeds go to charity?” Camille smiled excitedly, clasping her hands together. “Y/N, you’re a genius!”

“I’ll have to talk to Trent first, though…it’s his.” 

Camille waved her hands dismissively, sucking her teeth, “Please. He’ll be all for it. He was waving the bottle around on camera like he was paid billions. I’ve never seen that man advertise anything with that much excitement.” You nodded as the idea swirled around in your mind, just as you hit ‘publish’ on the job posting. “Yeah..I’ll talk to him.”

A few days later, you stepped into a restaurant, your heels clanked against the marble floor as Trent’s hand found your lower back to guide you inside. The restaurant had an intimate feel; the lighting was low, with a soft glow from the candles on the tables. From the moment you walked in, eyes were on the two of you. Trent had on an all white fit, crisp lines tailored his shirt and trousers; it looked gorgeous against his brown skin; he was also wearing an Audemars Piguet watch, the scent of Rêveur clinging to his skin. You were wearing a dress that hugged every curve just right, the fabric shimmering ever so slightly. Your heels caught in the light, adding a few extra inches to make your legs look longer. Your perfume was a soft, warm scent of amber and vanilla, which paired perfectly with his aftershave.

“You look incredible, Y/N. And you smell so damn good,” Trent whispered in your ear. He gently spun you around, taking in the full view as his eyes ran over your body, lingering his gaze on the way your skin was glowing under the dim lighting. “So fucking beautiful baby.”

You bit your lip, feeling your confidence soar from his praise. “Thanks.. but you’re kinda eating me up with that watch,” you teased, eyeing how he looked in the crisp shirt that clung to his body just right. “Nah..I wore this for you ‘cause it has the moon on it. Reminds me of my girl,” he winked, kissing you softly on the lips. You could feel heat surging within you, but you played it off and headed to a table that was tucked away in a private area with the perfect view of the city. While you were eating dinner, Trent couldn’t take his eyes off of you. He was staring at you more than he was eating, complimenting you every few minutes. “You’re so beautiful. So perfect. I’m lucky as hell.” You giggled, picking up your wine glass before taking a sip. “I think you said that like ten times tonight.” “And I’ll say it for an eleventh time..you’re so beautiful, baby. I mean it every time. You’re stunning.” You could see his eyes dropping to your chest before meeting your gaze again with a smirk. You and Trent hadn’t really seen each other much the past few weeks due to your schedules, but made a plan to have a date night after the interview fiasco. He was definitely upping the ante; everything felt so deeply intimate and sensual. Trent leaned back in his chair, eyes still transfixed on you. You thought back to the phone call the two of you had a couple of days ago when you thought you heard him say ‘I love you’. He didn’t say anything else since then, so it was clear you more than likely heard him wrong, but still.. you wondered. Now wasn’t the time though, you didn’t want to make anything awkward. He was sitting across from you looking like a dream, and the last thing you wanted to do was ruin the mood. Trent’s thumb rubbed soothing circles on the back of your hand, his eyes still hypnotised by your beauty. You both knew where the night was heading, but teasing him was much more fun.

“So..for the gala” you began, trailing your fingers around the rim of the wine glass with your other hand, his eyes watching every movement. “I was thinking we could do a release of Rêveur and just give the proceeds to charity. What do you think?” You were slowly rubbing your leg against his under the table. Trent’s eyes widened when your heels grazed his ankle. “Yeah..that’s a..uhh..erm..really good idea. Let’s do it.” He could barely get the words out, he was completely flustered. You smiled innocently, letting the strap of your dress slip from your shoulder. “Yeah? Everyone keeps begging for it sooo..let’s give the people what they want..” you paused, sliding your heel off and pressing your foot directly into his lap. You could feel his dick twitch underneath you, “may as well make it worthwhile.” His entire body stiffened and his hand slid down to grab your calf, his fingers circling lazy on your glowing skin. He was trying to make you beg for him, but you were determined to have the upper hand tonight, for now anyway.

“Baby...c’mon. You’re not even playing fair right now” he muttered in a hoarse voice.

“What? I’m just talking about the gala…” you bantered, giving him a sultry look as you pressed your foot against his hard on. You could feel his body shudder against the pressure, his cock twitching even more. “Why are you so distracted, babe?” He squeezed your leg tighter, letting out a shaky breath. “Y/N...we need to leave. Right now.” You grinned, pushing him further. “But we haven’t finished finalizing plans yet..” You applied more pressure, watching him suck in a breath. “We can’t leave out all the details Trent.”

“Baby, please,” he whispered. His hand was trembling as he stroked the skin below the hem of your dress. He was trying so hard to keep it together, but alas, you wanted to push him farther one more time. “We need to get out of here before I lose my mind in front of all these people.” You laughed, leaning forward to stand up. “Fine..but you need to help me first.” He gave you a confused look until you lifted your leg back on his lap. “Put my heel back on, pretty please?” you said innocently, yet the look you were giving him was anything but. He swallowed hard as his gaze traveled up your leg. If there wasn’t anyone else in the restaurant, he probably would’ve bent you over the table right then. Your dress slid just enough for him to catch a glimpse of the lace thong you were wearing, and it nearly did him in. His hands were shaking as he slid the heel back on your foot. He placed a kiss on your ankle, muttering something about how you were going to pay for it later. You grinned, standing up straighter to smooth your dress out. “What was that babe? Did you say something?” He shook his head, standing up quickly and taking your hand in his. “Let’s go Y/N. Now.”

As soon as Trent unlocked the door you barely had a chance to step inside before his hands were all over you. “You’re a fucking tease,” he growled. He lifted you up, flinging you over his shoulder. “Trent! Put me down!!” you squealed, lightly hitting his back. “Be quiet” he ordered, smacking your ass. The sting of it sent a thrill straight between your legs. “I’m gonna give you something to really scream about.” You made a mental note to tease him more often, this was hot. He was a man on a mission as he carried you up the stairs, you were getting wetter by the second. Once he finally tossed you on the bed, you were pretty sure your thong was soaked. “You were so bad tonight.” he said, sliding his hands down your body to grab the hem of your dress. “Rubbing your foot against me under the table like that..trying to make me lose my mind in front of everybody.” You bit your lip feeling him tug at your dress. You heard the sound of fabric ripping and you gasped. “Wh–”

“I’ll buy another one,” he interrupted, leaving you in nothing but the thong. You were about to say something sassy until his fingers hooked your thong and you heard another rip echo in the room. You were already arching against his hands as his eyes drank you in. “I’m in charge now” His fingers found your clit immediately, rubbing circles that had you bucking your hips. “Wanna be a good girl for me now, yeah?” You were a moaning mess already, head falling against the pillows trying to catch your breath. “Yes, yesss,” you pant, already close from how pent up you were. This was the first time the two of you were having sex in weeks, and your body was aching for him. He pinched one of your nipples between his fingers with his other hand, as his fingers sped up on your clit.

“T-Trent, baby.. I’m so close.”

“No,” he huffs, pulling his hand away and leaving you on the verge of sobbing. “Not until I tell you to.” Your breath hitched and you nodded quickly, spreading your legs wider for him. He wasted no time dipping his fingers back inside you, groaning from how wet you were. His thumb encircled your clit again, rubbing teasing circles to set you off. “Look at you, Y/N. Such a good girl.” You moaned loudly, rocking against his hand. “Mm..oh my god, yes.” He curled his fingers inside of you, hitting a different angle that made your back arch off the bed as a mewl escaped your lips. “Just like that, baby. You sound so fucking beautiful moaning for me.” His praise was setting off a flame within you, making you say things you didn’t even realize you were saying.

“Ooh, fuck. Do whatever you want to me, please,” you beg, grinding against his fingers. You were on the verge of an orgasm and he could tell; he applied a little more pressure to your clit and whispered in your ear. “Show me how much you love being my good girl. Cum on my fingers, baby. Give it to me.” You squeezed your eyes shut, curving your back as you moaned his name, waves of pleasure enveloping you as you fluttered around his fingers. 

“Good girl,” he murmured, voice filled with pride. “So fucking pretty when you cum.” Just as you were coming back to earth, he pulled his fingers out of you and lined his cock, pushing inside you in a smooth thrust.

“Fuck!” you both moan in unison, your eyes rolling back in pleasure. He moved slow at first, trying to savour the moment, but then picked up the pace, gripping your hips. “You feel so fucking good. Goddamn, Y/N.” he grits out, thrusting into you harder. You were still sensitive but you wrapped your legs around him to pull him deeper. “Oh my god, Trent…”

“Yeah?” he groaned, fucking into you deeper. “You like that? I feel you squeezing me.”

“I love it,” you moan, dragging your nails down the skin on his back. “I missed your dick. I missed you. So. so. Much.”

He picked up the pace, thrusting into your g spot with every deep stroke. “Such a good girl for me now that I'm giving you what you want, huh? Just for me.” His praise made you moan louder, your body moving in tandem with his to match his rhythm. You whispered teasingly in his ear. “I love when you fuck me like this. You’re so good to me Trent.” He cursed under his breath, thrusting even harder and deeper from your seductive tone. “Keep talking to me, baby. I want to hear you,” he breathes while his hand slipped between your legs to massage your clit. “You’re gonna make me cum again,” you whimper, feeling the tension build inside you. “You fuck me soo good. Am I taking it good for you?”

“Ah, fuck,” he growls, thrusting into you erratically and moving faster on your clit. He didn’t answer your question, but you knew the answer already. “Cum for me baby. I wanna feel that pussy cum all over me.” Your second orgasm was so much more intense than the first. You were clawing his back, leaving love marks as you screamed his name. Trent was barely able to hold back anymore, and groaned into your ear while your pussy quivered around him. “I’m about to cum baby, where do you want it?” You could barely catch your breath, but his words reignited something sinfully wicked inside of you. “Inside me,” you beg in a shaky voice. “Please. I need you to fill me up.”

“Fuck..fuck..fuck” he groaned, burying himself deep inside your pussy. His cock pulsed as the ropes of cum spilled inside you. The warmth from his cum made you moan with satisfaction. Neither of you wanted to move off of each other after that, and it wasn’t like he was going to let you in the first place; The man had been entranced all night, and you were enjoying every second of it. He placed a soft kiss to your lips, “You did take it good for me, by the way. Such a good girl.” You giggled, still in a daze from your high. “I think you need to talk to me like that more often. That’s so sexy.”

After a couple of minutes of cuddling, you ran your hand across his chest. “So...Rêveur,” you said softly, glancing up at him

“Hm? What about it?”

You bit your lip, feeling a little guilty for asking him while he was so riled up earlier. Right now was a much better time to ask since both of your heads were clearer. “Are you actually okay if I release it for the gala? I know I brought it up earlier but…” Trent’s hand slid to your back, tracing the curve of your spine. “Yeah, it’s fine baby. It’s for a good reason, I’m all for it. Plus, I can brag more about how good you make me smell.” You giggled, reaching up to give him a kiss. “Okay..let’s make it happen then.”

A brief silence fell over the room before Trent pulled you closer to him, nuzzling into your neck, like he was trying to butter you up. “So...how’s the assistant search going?” he asked, very carefully testing the waters.

You groaned, running your fingers over his hair. “It’s...going. I have some interviews tomorrow. So that means we can’t stay up all night.” He pretended to be annoyed as he squeezed your waist. “Baby, it’s been weeks though!” You laughed, shifting around to look at him. “You’re acting like you’re starving. We just finished.”

“Maybe I am,” he shot back. “One round is just a warm up.”

“Oh, hush!” you teased, rolling your eyes. “You’ll survive until tomorrow. I can’t be late, seriously this time.” He laughed, remembering the chaos from when both of you overslept after a long night of fun. Trent reached for his phone, setting multiple alarms to make sure you were up on time. “We’ll see how the morning goes..” he smirked, pulling you close. “Goodnight, Y/N.”

“Goodnight” you whispered, snuggling into him. The alarms tomorrow would surely wake you up, or maybe not, depending on how bold Trent was feeling when they went off.

The next morning, you tried to slip out of bed as the alarms blared in the background, but Trent’s hand tightened around you, pulling you into him. “Where you going?” he mumbled sleepily.

“I have to get ready..” you whispered.

“A couple more minutes…” he teased, kissing the back of your neck.

Of course you gave in. One thing led to another and your ‘quickie’ turned into a full blown session, leaving you scrambling to get dressed. Trent’s home looked a little different now. A lot of your things found their place right next to his. Your toothbrush was next to his, your skincare products were neatly placed on his bathroom counter, and your clothes were starting to take up half his closet. Unintentionally, you made his place yours–and he made your place, his. 

“I’m gonna be late!” you laughed, grabbing your bag. Trent stood in the living room, grinning from ear to ear with no regrets. “I woke you up on time though. You’re welcome,” he said, looking amused and very proud of himself. You shot him a playful glare before giving him a kiss goodbye and heading out the door.

Camille was already lounging behind the counter with a smirk on her face when you got to Les Notes d’Amour. “You have a little glow going on today....Trent I’m guessing?? You’re cutting it kinda close babe.”

“Shut up Camille! I’m here now, okay?”

“Barely.” Camille giggled. 

You dropped your bag on the counter, trying to compose yourself. You looked pretty put together, but Camille could read you like a book. “I was multitasking.”

“Right..is that what it’s called now?” she shot back, bursting into laughter. “Anyway, are we ready for this madness? You said there were tons of applications, yeah?” You sighed, settling into a chair as you tried to mentally prepare yourself for the day. “Yeah, but I narrowed it down to four. I just hope they’re not all weird.” Camille grinned, always down for some fun. “There’s always one. Let’s just hope they’re entertaining.”

The first candidate carried themselves like they were about to conduct a TED Talk. He didn't waste any time before launching into an introduction that sounded like a dissertation for a doctorate degree. “Fragrance is an intricate balance of compounds and molecular distillation processes. When properly executed, it can maximize olfactory efficiency over time.”

What the fuck is he going on about? 

Both you and Camille looked at each other, confusion etched on your faces. You nodded, pretending like you understood whatever the hell he was saying. “Sooo, what’s your experience with retail?” you asked, attempting to steer the convo back to something more understandable. “Well, I have a passion for molecular evaporation techniques. Retail is secondary,” the guy continued, unphased. “You see, when certain notes are distilled just right…” You suppressed your laughter throughout the rest of the interview, eventually ending the conversation. As soon as the door closed, Camille scrunched her face up, “What the hell was that??”

Candidate two walked in with crystal necklaces and smelled strongly of patchouli. She took in a deep breath, closing her eyes to feel the energy of the space.

“This place has such an unbalanced aura, but I can fix that.”

Camille eyed her with intrigue. “I’m curious to know how you’re going to do that?”

The candidate pulled out a rose quartz crystal, holding it up to the light. “I’ll align the energy of all the fragrances to my chakras. It’s all about cleansing the vibes in here. Very dark energy in this place.” You looked around confused. What is a chakra? You didn’t know how to respond, so you asked her about her experience in retail.

“My energy speaks for itself” she replied, setting the crystal on the table.

Camille giggled, “Does your energy know how to answer phones and emails?” The candidate gave Camille a sweet smile, not answering the question at all. “It’s all a part of a bigger cosmic picture. You’ll see soon enough.”

Umm, okay girl, anyway...

“Of course I picked all the weird people”, you told Camille as the chakra girl left.

The bell above the door chimed when the next candidate walked in: Ember.

She was beautifully striking with vibrant red hair and a smattering of freckles across her nose and cheeks. She was tall like a Willow tree; she definitely could’ve just stepped off a NYFW runway. She wore a black turtleneck, paired with tailored trousers..very sleek and minimalist. She had a confident smile that immediately drew you in when she gave you a firm handshake. 

Finally, someone professional.

“Thanks for meeting with me,” Ember began with a composed voice. “I’ve seen a lot of your work over the years. Love your use of tuberose in your collections.” You blinked, surprised. Not many people knew about that detail unless they followed your work closely. It was an interesting observation, but she had probably just done her research before the interview to impress you. The interview continued smoothly, Ember talked about her experience handling high-end clients, managing orders, and had a knowledgeable demeanour. But something about how she navigated conversations so easily gave you an odd vibe. It wasn’t enough to question her, but it was strange.

When she left, you glanced at Camille. “What do you think?” Camille shrugged, “She’s good. Knows her stuff.”

The last candidate was Tara. She was the complete opposite of Ember in appearance, but was eye-catching in her own way. She had a bubbly personality, was short, and had curly black hair that framed her face. She wore oversized frames that made her look a bit whimsical, as if she had just come out of a cartoony fairytale. Her outfit was playful, yet chic. She wore patterned trousers with a tucked in blouse, paired with trendy boots. She was full of energy.

“Hiii! So excited to be here!” Tara said enthusiastically, but not too loud. You smiled at her energy, but Camille leaned back in her chair, intrigued by the shift in energy. The moment Tara sat down, she started talking about how much she loved perfume. “I’ve been obsessed with fragrances since I was a kid. My mum used to take me to try samples all the time!” She didn’t have the same polished demeanour as Ember, but her enthusiasm was refreshing and felt genuine. She said she was still in uni, but wanted to gain more experience. Camille glanced over at you, trying to feel out the vibe. “So, how do you balance uni and everything? Must be chaotic.” Tara nodded, “It is but I thrive on chaos.” She pushed her glasses up, grinning playfully. “My love for perfume keeps me sane..and footie.”

You raised an eyebrow, “Footie??”

“Oh yeah! Massive Liverpool fan,” she said casually. “Always in red!”

Oh, if only you knew.

You smiled, relaxing a little. “Same…” Tara quickly moved on to talk about her top perfumes, and how she loved the creativity of fragrance making. You felt like she could fit in well, especially with her easy-going vibe. You were thankful she didn't mention anything about Trent. Camille’s voice broke you out from your thoughts and you realized you spaced out after Tara left. “Footie, huh? Maybe she wants your man,” Camille teased. You shook your head quickly. “Eh, doubt it. She’s just excited about the club, I think. Can’t blame her, they’re great.”

“Well…whoever you hire. You should make them sign an NDA.”

“Huh? For an assistant?? That’s a bit much, no?” you frowned, confused on why she would recommend something like that. It’s not like they were going to be around Trent often.

Camille shrugged, her tone casual as she glanced back at the CVs on the table. “Maybe. But now that you and Trent are more public..it really might not be a bad idea. People talk.” You nodded, but you weren’t fully convinced. “I guess...but I don’t really see the point right now. They probably won’t even be around him.” Camille knew you were stubborn as a mule, and didn’t push it any further. You signed off on the paperwork to hire Ember full-time, and Tara part-time, while Camille continued looking at both their CVs. Her eyes lingered on the part of Tara’s that mentioned she was studying public relations in uni.

“PR, huh?” Camille muttered under her breath, too quiet for you to catch.

When you made it back to Trent's house, you unlocked the door and stepped inside. The interviews drained you more than you expected. You sank into the couch, letting out a long sigh. Trent's aftershave lingered in the air, it was a scent you had grown accustomed to smelling all the time, and it made your heart warm every time. Trent was still at training, so you decided to binge one of the best Love Island seasons while you waited for him.

When Trent got back home, he wandered to the living room to find you sprawled out on the couch half way into a season of Love Island. You looked up at him, grinning. “Hi baby! Come watch, you have to see this recoupling.” He reluctantly sat down, acting like he didn’t care. “I don’t know how you watch this shit.” It didn’t take long for him to get sucked into the drama, though. Callum had just come back from Casa Amor with a new girl. Gemma stayed loyal the whole time and looked like she was either going to cry or kill him. Both??

“Nah! No way he did that to her!” Trent blurted out, forgetting he wasn’t supposed to care. His eyes were glued to the screen as his head lay in your lap. You stifled a laugh, glancing down at him in amusement. “Oh, all of a sudden you care now?”

“I don’t care,” he muttered, eyes still fully on the screen. “She’s gutted though.” You burst out laughing, “Trent, why are you into this more than I am?”

“Shut up…”

Gemma turned away, refusing to look at Callum. Trent’s jaw dropped. “Nah he’s finished. She’s not going to stay, right? You already saw this one???” You shrugged, trying to keep the suspense, “Keep watching and see.” A few minutes passed and the entire villa was in shambles. People were crying, yelling, storming off. It was hilariously chaotic. Trent shook his head, not believing what he was watching. “Shit’s scripted. Why do you watch this?”

“Because it's hilarious,” you replied. “The drama is better when you’re not a part of it.”

“Yeah..but would you couple up with me if we were on the show?” Trent asked playfully. You looked at him, pretending to think about it. “I dunno. You might come back with a girl like Callum.”

“Nah! Never!”

You shrugged, running your hands over his hair. “Sorry, baby.. but I would have to couple up with someone else.” You said it so seriously that Trent almost believed you before you both burst out laughing. 

“I’d choose you every time, Y/N..” he said, sitting up and leaning in closer. “I’m not just saying that either. I mean it. Every. Single. Time.” Your heart was almost beating out of your chest, the teasing from earlier disappearing completely. “You really mean that?”

He nodded, his gaze faltering to your lips before he pulled you in for a tender kiss. “Never been more sure.” Trent’s eyes locked on yours after the kiss, and without any hesitation, he said it. Perfectly clear, like it was the most natural thing in the world.

“I love you.”

So simple and matter-of-fact. It hit you like a ton of bricks.

You blinked, mostly out of shock as the realization washed over you. He did say it. He said it before, too. The night when he fell asleep on the phone. You weren’t imagining things. He was in love with you.

He loves me. Oh my god. This is real. Like we’re in it now. This is serious.

Your thoughts tumbled over themselves. Trying to make sense of the whirlwind the last couple of months had been. Your body honestly didn’t know how to react. Part of you wanted to kiss him, the other part of you wanted to tell him to shut up, another part of you wanted to get up and run away, your conscience wanted to tell him you loved him back. The stakes were even higher now.

“Y/N??” Trent’s voice pulled you out of your head. He noticed how quiet you were. You looked up at him, eyes wide and glassy, unsure of what to say exactly. He didn’t look worried at all, though. He wasn’t second guessing his words. He was just watching you, observing and waiting patiently with reassurance in his expression.

“I..” you started, but your voice faltered. What the hell were you supposed to say? Did you love him or not? 

I don't know if I'm ready for this. But I think I love him too? Ugh, everything's going so fast.

Everything was moving too quickly in your mind and somehow.. still not fast enough. You couldn’t deny the way his words made your heart swell, but you also didn’t feel ready yet. Maybe it was self-sabotage? Or maybe you were just in shock?? You swallowed hard, trying to blink back the tears pooling in your eyes. You weren’t sad, but everything felt extremely overwhelming.

How is he so sure?

Trent didn’t push you, though. He smiled, brushing his thumb over your lips. “You don’t have to say anything Y/N. I just wanted you to know.” You nodded, not trusting yourself to speak. He loved you.

It was terrifying, exhilarating, and intoxicating all at the same time.

Just as you were trying to make sense of everything, a lurking, whispering voice came creeping in from the corners of your mind, like when the moon crosses the sun.

What if fate was never on your side? The sun can't shine forever, right? The tension from thunder and lightning only happens when it's about to rain.

If you made it this far, thank you for reading! i appreciate each and every one of you that take the time to read this. lmk what you think

[nekohime19]

AITA for refusing to forgive my cheating girlfriend when I kinda cheated myself?

(last pat tof this crazy adventure! Here we go guys!)

Again, thank you for all the insight, the situation is kinda messed up but you guys helped me take a step back.

Okay so I have one last update to this crazy love life of mine, but before that here are my answers to your comments :

TheWayoftheEnigmatic :

🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣

Wukong is NTA

But man that whole situation is cursed! 😵

Still funny though.

OP response :

👀👀 Wukong??? Noo, that's TOTALLY not me. I'm, huh, another immortal monkey.

Followingthewater :

tie her up ig and let six out, she might attack you when she wakes so better to be prepared ig. If you can, try to calm the situation down as much as possible and try to communicate to her to avoid a fight. It's not fair she was clearly cheating on you and gets mad that you slept with her side piece, sounds hypocritical of her.

Besides that, if you're interest in six maybe later try to set up a time to talk again, try to find out what type of person he is before you start trying to date, y'know, to not date another 'bad guy'. Would suck if he was into any problems.

OP response :

Tying her up seem to be the best option yeah. Idk if I'll be able to calm her down but I'll try. 

I definitely need to hang out with Six after that. Jumping in another relationship isn't in my to do list but I do want to be friends with him. 

CommonRedditLurker :

Yikes OP this whole situation is kinda a mess. I'm sorry you got cheated on, but I don't think retaliatory cheating is the answer here. Really leaning toward a soft ESH, but that's just because I think you should've confronted and broken up with your partner before sleeping with someone else :/

CommonRedditLurker :

OP. . .what the fuck???? How did this somehow get even messier?

What an absolutely insane response to an already stressful situation! From shoving Six into a closet (there's a joke there), to PUNCHING and knocking out your partner. . .I don't even know where to start with this one. Honestly, OP you should post this in r/legaladvice, because sucker-punching your soon-to-be ex girlfriend is a quick way to get sued for battery :/

Also, this is definitely an ESH type of situation. Yikes just yikes

OP response :

I didn't really wanted to do retaliatory cheating, honestly things just… escalated.

I PANICKED!!! I mean, yeah, in hindsight it was the worst reaction ever but, well, it was punch or be punched.

Dragonfruit_Is_Real :

Should I just tie her up’ HELP THAT’S FUNNY AS SHIT WTF 😭 giggling

OP response :

Glad my crazy life is making you laugh 😭

LanZen :

Man this is a mess... Alright I would say yes tie her up, she already proved to not be wanting to listen if she ransaked your place so fast, instead of listening your side of the story, (the audacy of her to be pissed when she did it fist and maybe this wasnt the first time she cheated) also take anysharp objects she can cut the rope with from her, and then man up and talk the 3 of you and break up, no matter what she says don't take her back.

Such an asshole move to shove Six in the cabinet when both of you could use glamours by the way, but i can understand you panicked but don't do it again.

Also talk to bud, because you are a retired hero are you not? It can be asumed you wanted to have privacy, and well if he is telling everyone about you "partner" won't your enemies target him now? :/

And yes moraly and technically it wasn't a good move to punch her lights out but, she deserved it, for bud, yourself and six, even if it was reflex xD

OP response :

Yeah I don't think Venom would be willing to listen to us… Kinda feel icky to tie her up but at this point, I think I have to.

I really got to apologize to Six for pushing him like that, I just really panicked 😭😭.

I do have to talk about Bud… he has to know. It's gonna be an awkward talk.

Ranma1_half :

Not gonna lie I died of laughter at the last part. Ok here what you can do. First let's sixer out of the cupboard. Second tie her up and lastly confront her together. Wishing you luck and the gods have mercy on you.

OP response :

Oh yeah shit Six is still in the cabinet.

Sara :

I'm sorry but I burst out laughing at the end 😂 .... Tie her with a magic rope and tell her that she was the one who betrayed you from the beginning.

OP response :

Magic rope sounds kinda good. I have to search in my treasure trove if I have one.

Lagt :

.... WOW

I don't even know what to say to that-

For starters maybe let Six out????

And uuhhhh wait for her to regain conscience without tying her up?

Like uuhhhh

That was...

Yeah no that was not a smart move op

Also very ballsy of her to be pissed at you cheating on her without asking normally first-

OP response :

I do really need to let Six out 😭😭. Unfortunately, I do think the rope is necessary. She can be intense and I don't want to risk it. Maybe I should ask for Six input too?

Sakurabloom_26 :

Welp, the damage is already done.

I’d say tie her up and confront Venom along with Six and break things off (you already punched her and she knows about you sleeping with someone else, her finding out that it was with Six and that you already knew about her cheating when it happened isn’t gonna make things THAT much worse)

Be prepared for pleading and false apologies, followed by explosive anger, accusations, and threats of revenge.

Best of luck (sending hugs)

OP response :

You're right, I don't think the situation can become worse than it already is. At this point what do I have to lose?

Oh man, I'm not looking forward to her reaction and all this.

Thanks (Hugs received)

Married2thegrind :

NTA, Venom was trying to throw hands about the supposed 'cheating' despite her having done the same. I'd suggest putting her into a room without many objects, tying her up there than confronting her (if OP is really serious about her destroying HALF A CITY??) and going on fron there.

I also kinda want to see Six's reaction to all this, how he confronts her. The wrath of one(1) magic monkey is one thing, but the wrath of TWO?? Legendary.

Also, maybe talk to Bud about saying that kinda stuff in public, people don't need to know anout your personal life. (Also maybe take off the glamor during the official confrontation, for funsies)

OP response :

She did destroy half the city once, so tying her up might prevent… a dangerous situation. I really gotta let Six out of this cabinet.

I'm not really clear on what really happened with Bud and how Venom overheard everything. But I do need to have a serious talk with him about this type of stuff.

And you know what? I might take off the glamors, spitting her a bit.

Halfdeadhalfpaniced :

Make sure to use good demon binding rope. That hit was very justified but she won’t see it that way and you really need to tell her who you were cheating with and explain the whole situation. Make her know you know what she did and make your claim before she tries to take him back or turn this into some messed up Polly relationship. Have multiple backup plans just in case and try not to hurt or scare away your new partner.

OP response :

Oh right, I do need a solid rope or this is gonna be even more messy! I guess it's confrontation time.

I absolutely refuse to let this turn into a poly relationship, I have nothing against them but I'm not going back with someone who cheated on me. I think Six think the same.

So yeah, the situation was messed up and suffice to say I was PANICKING. I miiight not be the best guy to deal with complicated relationship stuff, as you all read.

Anyway, here is the last update :

AITA for refusing to forgive my cheating girlfriend when I kinda cheated myself?

After I punched Venom and she fell unconscious, I was really panicking. Like, shit, this felt like the beginning of a murder story. First thing I did was check if she wasn't dead. I knew I didn't punch her that hard buuut I do have a lot of strength and sometimes I forget how weak others can be (as an immortal it's easy to forget mortality is a thing). Luckily, as I thought, she was just uncousious.

So I'm relieved and then I hear Six ask what’s happening (he was still in the cabinet). So I'm like “Oh shit he's still in there” and I let him out. I apologize for pushing him like this but he brushes away the subject and instead looks at Venom, who is on the ground, passed out, with a bruise on her face. Noooot a good look for me.

He gives me a “WTF??” look and here is how our conversation went :

Six : “What did you do??”

Me : “I, huh, punched her?”

Six : “Is she alright?? We don't need to bury the body in the backyard do we??”

Me : “No, no, she's just passed out.”

Six : “Okay… But why did you punch her?”

Me : “She was ready to throw hands at me. What was I meant to do, not throw hands too?”

Six : “So you punched her?”

Me : “It was a punch or be punched situation and I panicked, okay!?”

Six : “seriously? What do we now?”

We argued a little bit and eventually I offered my solution : tie her up and then confront her. Six was reluctant, which I can understand, but when I told him how much Venom would be upset he changed his mind. Venom is an intense person, she already destroyed half the city out of pettiness, what would she do after all this? It was safer, for all of us, if she was tied up. So I went to my treasure trove and looked for a special rope.

I found one who might do the job. Honestly I didn't remember all the effects the rope had but it can't be that bad, right? In my defense, there are a lot of things in my treasure trove and after millennias it's hard to keep track of every artifact. By the way, Six called my treasure trove a “chaos hazard” which, rude, but I forgive him because he tripped on a vase and that was pretty funny.

So we tied up Venom and waited. But she didn't wake up even after thirty minutes. The thing was…Bud was supposed to come in the evening for a training session and I didn't want him to see this mess. So I tell that to Six and we try to wake her up.

Six was more gentle than me. He poked her a bit, shook her by the shoulder.

After an hour I decided to step up the “waking Venom” mission. I didn't have time for this mess. So I grabbed a bucket of water and I threw the water at her. It worked very well. She woke up drenched and angry. In hindsight, it might not be my best move (and kinda of a butthole move). It made her even more angry. But at this point I didn't have anything to lose. I did give her a towel but she threw it right back at me. Well, she tried but it's difficult throwing a towel while tied up.

So Venom started by screaming at us. Things about “How dare you punch me and tie me up!?”, all those things. I didn't interrupted her and apologized for the punching (and the water throwing😅) because, yeah, not my best moves. Then Venom notices Six and…. awkward silence.

It lasts a bit until Six decides to clear things up. He explains how me and him found out about her cheating and got drunk and… slept together. He said that he didn't have any intention to sleep with me but the alcohol and the bad mental headscape after finding out about her cheating made things escalate. I second that and I chime in to tell my own version. I admit I snooped on her phone and found out everything. Venom listens with a frown then she tells HER version.

She doesn't deny the cheating bc obviously at this point it's useless to deny it. But then she told us she felt neglected by me and I spend more time with Bud than her and I was prioritizing Bud training, and heroing, over our relationship.

It kinda made me feel guilty, and I wondered if I truly did that, but then Six stepped in and asked her “What about me? You got a good reason for leading me on like that?”. She repeated the same thing. That Six made her feel seen, and all that, and she needed to find comfort somewhere else.

Boy, Six looked really pissed off. He went on a tangent about how if she wasn't feeling good in her relationship with me she should have broken it off, that it was selfish of her to do that, and in the end it hurts all of us.

Venom retaliated by saying that everyone made mistakes and that even the both of us made one when we slept together. She said something like : “In the end everyone cheated, so we're equals and we can start again with a clean state.” She even proposed a threesome.

Honestly, that pissed me off.

Excuse me, lady, in what world is this okay?? I know I didn't handle this situation elegantly (tbh I barged in that like a bull in a chinaware shop) BUT there is no way we're going back to dating.

So I was feeling petty. I undid my glamor cause I knew it would piss her off seeing the love marks, and I stared right into her eyes, saying there is no way we're going back together.

Oh boy, she didn't take that well. Maybe I shouldn't have angered her? But, honestly, I wanted to. I know. I'm a petty monkey. What can I say? She really pissed me off with this and, anyway, angering her a tiny bit more isn't gonna make that much of a difference. Like, you wanna play the game with me? You gotta be ready to be beaten!

So this evolved into a screaming match. She accused me of being a hypocrite. How much it was unfair that I couldn't forgive her when I did the same thing and cheated on her with Six. That made me feel guilty, but I didn't back down. I was kinda glad for the rope cause I swear if she wasn't tied up she was gonna strangle me alive.

Six was the one to separate us. He shut me up with one look, the kinda look parents give their children when they're throwing a tantrum in public, and stopped Venom with a very cold line : “There is nothing to argue about. This is over.”

So Six untied Venom and teleported her away with shadows??? (I didn't know he could do that, for one moment my dense ass truly thought demons were taking her away or something 😭). Annd, like I expected, Venom left with threats of vengeance.

Things were a bit awkward after that. Both Six and I were emotionally tired. But I didn't want to just let him go and never see him again. He's a cool dude. Despite this mess, we really had a great time together. So I told him maybe we could hang out, as friends. And he agrees, but he does add that, for now, he doesn't want anything more than friendship. And I understand.

Boy, dating is tiring.

But I do cling on the “for now” and, who knows, maybe this will lead to dating?

Six left after that and Bud arrived later on in the evening. I decided it was better to explain everything that happened, especially since I didn't part on good terms with Venom. So I sat him down and told him everything.

I think Bud passed through every emotion possible, shock, confusion, disgust (for him dating a spider was a solid no), amusement annnd he burst out laughing when I told him I punched Venom in the face.

He told me it wasn't his intention to cause this mess, and he was just talking about his best friend, somehow the topic briefly went on his encounter with Six, and he didn't pay attention if anyone was listening. I told him to be more careful because I have a lot of enemies and I don't want to cause problems for Six.

All in all, things went… okay? I haven't heard of Venom since then, I'm sure she's plotting something, but Bud is aware of everything and I do think we can take whatever she plans for.

Six and I are still friends. I went on a tour with him recently to make him visit the city and my mountain. Things are mainly okay and now we're laughing about this crazy adventure.

Bud is also helping figure out a number of things. He told me taking tests on the internet is NOT the best way to figure out your sexuality. I wasn't aware of that. And I wasn't aware of all the possibilities and different types of sexuality too. So I'm also taking it slow, trying to figure things out.

Thank you guys for your support, I sent you a lot of monkey hugs.

Who knows maybe I'll turn back to this site again if another crazy thing happens in my life, I do tend to have a pretty intense life, guess that's the package that comes with being a LEGEND!

Monkey King out.

Wait, no, shit, ignore that last part I'm totally not the Monkey King.

[t00thpasteface]

i very deeply respect your mashposting and even though im not as enthusiastic about hawkahy as you are i think the content you make for them us delightful and some of the best mashposting on this godforsaken website. that being said, i wanted to know ur takes on the hawkeye & trapper dynamic, and the hawkeye & bj dynamic. Not in a shippy way, just in the World of Hawkahy what role do trapper and bj play in their relationships with hawkeye :3 this because i love that one comic u did where hawkeye is spunchbop and bj is Patrick its one of my fave pieces of mash fanart lol

(⁠๑˘❥⁠⁠ ˘๑⁠) first off, THANK YOU!! i'm soooo crazy about hawkahy and i really enjoy contributing to my fellow shippers, but i'm glad my art can also still appeal to people who are less interested the ship itself.

second, VERY fun question!! i wish i had definitive answers for yall, but you know me... i love to go "well idk it could go either way" ^_^;; really, it depends on what kind of tone and theme i'm looking for. i don't really write heavier stuff (because i have so much fun writing funny fic) so that kind of narrows my options, but there's a lot of potential i'd love to explore— or see someone else explore, if they're so inclined!

TRAP:

generally the trapper reading i typically default to is that he and hawkeye have a pretty casual FWB thing going on. trapper considers hawkeye a very close friend and hooks up with him at an intersection of bicuriosity and deep platonic affection, but hawkeye catches baddddd feelings and ends up genuinely heartbroken to find out their thing was lopsided. in this case, hawkahy would happen only after trapper leaves— mulcahy has a tough time trying to get noticed before that point :( but at the same time, i don't think mulcahy would pounce at the first opportunity, because i don't think an immediate rebound would be good for hawkeye nor mulcahy... but it could happen for dramaaaaa...

another version of the hawkeye-trapper rapport that i love playing with in my fics is trapper being generally very supportive but nonetheless slightly grossed out. i think there's a lotttt of comedy potential with hawkeye thinking it's okay to fuck a priest but NOT a married woman, and meanwhile trapper is pro-infidelity but anti-priestfucking (for whatever reason), and they squabble and tease each other about it the whole time.

it's also funny to think about is trapper trying to figure out whether mulcahy now gets the "one of the bros" back-slapping beer-chugging dude treatment, or if instead he's now slotted into the "go easy on 'em trap" category that protects hawkeye's ladyfriends from hearing trapper's bawdiest jokes and comments when hawkeye brings them along as a plus-one to the swamp.

trapper seems like he's pretty likely to sniff out that hawkeye and mulcahy are seeing each other even if they try their damnedest to keep it secret. i like to think hawkeye trusts trapper enough that he would go ahead and divulge it it up front pretty soon after it's official. trapper could probably even pick up hawkeye's crush beforehand... maybe even before hawkeye knows about it!

i don't see trapper as being too jealous of hawkeye spending a lot of time with mulcahy, even if it means hawkeye is now exclusive and not sleeping with trapper anymore. if anything i think he'd be pretty stoked that he's got one less guy to compete with for the nurses' attention. pretty sweet deal as far as he's concerned.

i do think there'd be some tricky navigating between how hawkeye acts with trapper and the STARK difference with how he acts around mulcahy, which you can see clear as day in the s1 finale, where hawkeye gets soooo soft and careful while talking to mulcahy. i don't think either one is disingenuous; i think hawkeye contains multitudes. hawkeye's not the type to fake sincerity. and to that end, i really don't think hawkahy should hinge on hawkeye totally giving up all the cruder parts of his personality (especially since mulcahy is really no saint either), so it could be pretty interesting to see that manifest in whether/how he's still maintaining a close friendship with trapper now that he's been seeing mulcahy regularly and trying to make a good impression.

BEEJ:

the direction bj goes in depends on whether hawkahy are already an item before he gets there. he does form that almost instantaneous trauma-bond with hawkeye on his first day, but i think if hawkeye admitted "yeah by the way the chaplain is my boyfriend" as soon it seemed safe, bj would be able to take it in stride as another weird little quirk of the mash he has to get used to. he's too hung up on dealing with all the gore to worry about who's banging who.

by contrast, i think he could potentially get pretty upset/jealous if hawkeye and mulcahy paired up a little while later. i can see him feeling really betrayed, like, "what do you normally do when i'm gone?" "wait for you to get back!!"

if bj still doesn't feel like he's really enmeshed himself into the unit— which i think on some level, he never wants to, because he's banking on dropping everything like a hot potato the second he can— then i can totally picture him just feeling completely lost and isolated when hawkeye is suddenly forgoing their boys-nite boozathons in favor of getting some priest pipe. like, at least trapper could always go find his own cuddle buddy to pass the time and had nurses lining up to volunteer; bj has basically nobody and doesn't seem inclined nor equipped to fix that. hawkeye is his liason to the rest of the camp, and bj isn't so great with people without having hawkeye there to help as both teleprompter and safety net.

basically i think bj wants to keep hawkeye within a very specific arm's-length radius— not too close, but not too far either, and hawkeye having so much private time with someone else could really get under his skin.

you could also have bj think the priestfucking is gross/bad on sheer principle like trapper did, even without the jealousy angle, and it'd probably hold a little more water coming from bj than trapper. however, it'd be funny if he's insisting it's definitely not a jealousy thing and he's being fully objective about it, but you can totally tell he's just jealous. x)

i admit i kinda love seeing bj get tormented, because he's got such obvious buttons to press and yet sternly insists that they don't even exist, similar to houlihan and frank. like, you can't just set that up and not expect me to rub my hands together and SLAM those buttons as hard as i can. ergo, bj getting jealous about hawkahy is supremely funny to me. i'm not too proud to admit that!

[the-witchhunter]

By the way, when ghosts and Ancients appear, should there be any visual effects and sensations? Like Frostbite? A drop in temperature? Surfaces becoming crusted with ice?

For example, a headcanon on Danny who is a cosmic Ancient, an eldritch, a cryptid, a ghostly entity. How would all of this affect him showing up next to a human?

That’s a pretty broad question

If we’re talking canon, not really. Canon ghosts are more sci-fi in nature so unless they have immediate effects on their surroundings, which some do but those are exceptions to the rule

If we’re talking outside of canon the sky is the limit

If we’re talking more real world folklore approach, changes in temperature are pretty standard and as an icy spirit frostbite would probably have a more drastic effect so frost on some surfaces would make sense. The feeling of being watched comes up a lot, hair standing on end, and a lot of times people report catching a sudden whiff of some smell specifically associated with the ghost or spirit. A lot of times the person’s perfume or cologne is that smell but can be other things

Danny is interesting because even among ghosts he’s already unique. If we’re talking Danny in human form I imagine his presence is a lot like being around something giving of a strong electromagnetic field or a source of infrasound aka it makes you feel paranoid, gives you a sense of dread as your brain picks up on something being off without you consciously realizing what it is, and causing slight visual hallucinations, like spots or movement in the corner of your vision

I certainly think it’s interesting to incorporate those kinds of elements but I wouldn’t go as far as say someone should. it just depends what you’re going for. It does make the ghosts feel a little more ghostly though which is something I personally enjoy

[pookapufferfish]

so hows outer wilds treating you

I played a bit today and it was fun. I still freak out at every little thing but I am getting better and doing stuff. It is treating me poorly because I am the most unlucky guy. But I am having a blast

I will put spoilers but more details under the cut (don't want random blog readers getting spoiled)

Fun fact, I got booked in the head by a meteor on brittle hollow as I was trying to fly into the escape pod. I only died when I hit the ground.

I recently played and explored both the hourglass twins a bit. I still have to explore the city on ember and a few more places on ashen. Found a weird place with a hallway full of cacti.

Also I should go visit giants deep again but I don't want to deal with water...

I solved the black hole station puzzle on brittle.

Also I am terrified of what dark bramble could be. I don't want to go there...

[hingefreelester]

hi ron i feel crazy. i dont even know how to form thoughts on what emotions im experiencing right now in a post dan birthday stream universe

Hi jennifer yeah i feel… something for sure idk what but its a lot. What the fuck is coming and how do we recover from this before that??? I’m so lucky i watched it at my parents house alone with only our dogs here because the amount of screaming i did would have me out of home if i had been at my apartment💀 why are we having so many monumental events in such a short period of time im having whiplash

Also i wish we had goth lesbian lester just a bit longer

[pepprs]

im home and already swallowed by despair. can you believe i was in CHICAGO a few hours ago. and now im here. lol

[oceandiagonale]

I know I've said a million times before but I absolutely love your artstyle. I've never been the biggest dan of my own art cuz it's always been way too complicated and really difficult to just doodle characters and stuff-- but yours is always so consistent in comparison (not that I'm saying I'm bad at art I just struggle to draw using the same techniques I used to)

I wondered if you had any anatomy tips for characters? Like do you break down characters into shapes to get their proportions vaguely correct while sketching? If you do I very much want to know what shapes you use because I've not been able to draw a single full body character in quite a while cuz I can't get their proportions the way I want 😅

OH god good question also THANKS JSDFHD 😭😭😭

uhhhh I guess I do the general blocky thing that most people do?

(like I'd emphasize the vague in "vaguely correct" here because every other day I stumble on a new amazing art tutorial on how to simplify all 900 back muscles into a perfect shape and it's like oh wow I have Not been doing that and I probably still won't remember now)

BUT for me it's all about the Vibes

so when I'm really trying it usually either ends up being an amalgam of some tips that I try to remember + the shapes I've seen the most in tutorials since the early internet KFJHSDJKF

but like a lot of the time I just do something super simple and then I have to figure it out later on a second sketch layer so it's all kind of a mess BUT that's the general shapes at least!!

[freepassbound]

what’s your feel-good movie?

what flower would you like to be given?

what calms you down?

what’s your ideal date?

morning, afternoon or night?

♥

1: What's your feel-good movie?

Boy... I don't know how to choose. I (finally) went and looked at my movie library, and, like... I probably watch 'Groundhog Day' more than any other (though that's partially, possibly mostly, because I try to actually watch it every year on Groundhog Day); but I also have a very big soft spot for 'Charade'... and there are a bunch of other movies in there that I might turn to as well: 'WALL-E', 'Wreck-It Ralph', 'Shrek', 'Singin in the Rain'... (I'm not looking at it as I write, but there are more)

It's almost dependent on micro-moods and what I just happen to be wanting to see at that moment. I have a whole passel of them!

2: What flower would you like to be given?

I've actually received more flowers in the past month than I have in my entire life prior (it seems to have been a thing to give teachers flowers this year?), so I have new perspectives on this question.

I think my key takeaway is that variety is better. I got roses, which are... nice - they look good; they die fast. I got mums (or what I think are mums), which are multicolored, and have lasted much longer than the roses. The most recent, however, is a variety (duration TBD), which makes for both different colors but also different shapes, which I find more visually appealing.

3: What calms you down?

Space, quiet, and time. When I get worked up over something, I need time to process. Usually that looks like sitting or standing outside, just... staring... at nothing in particular, while my brain runs over and through and around and into and under and back through whatever it is that's enervated me.

4: What's your ideal date?

I think as long as it's got some kind of walk through nature, that's pretty ideal. Could be a county park, could be a beach, could be a national park forest, could be a city street with some greenery, or anything in between - as long that gets worked in there, I think that works.

5: Morning, afternoon or night?

I am definitely a night person. Left to my own devices and without any serious responsibilities, I can easily adopt a noon-4am schedule. 😅

[somer-writes]

Hi there! I didn't know you had a tumblr. I've been reading most of your lu fics for the last couple of months. Love how you write Twilight and Warriors. They're such brothers the way you write them. I genuinely don't know how you write so much in such a short amount of time, but I've been enjoying it!

Thank you for reading!! it brings me so much joy to share my work <3 i love writing them so so much XD i really thought when i first started writing lu fic that i would focus on twi & wild or twi & time a lot more but twi & warriors have stolen my heart

the tumblr is new as i am a Dedicated Lurker so bare with me as i figure out this god forsaken website beyond likes/reblogs.

i have a bad habit of hobby fixating XD so this has been nearly all my free time outside of Responsibilities bc im having so much fun with it! seeing lovely people like you in the fandom and having people interact with my work is just *chefs kiss*. i am a glutton for praise <3

ive been writing creatively since i was 8 or so and over time have gotten into the habit of editing myself in real time. i call it the Fucking Send It philosophy (usually) bc I know if it hesitate that i'll never be content with my work

i also save time by refusing to plot/outline anything :D i do not recommend this as i am usually along for the ride as much as the reader or working off a vague mental sketch

ty so much for the ask bestie!! made my day <3

[memetrash-coyote]

dealer's choice:

motion, night, texture, and change

Polyarmory's always on brain so I'm gonna answer with them.

motion: How does your OC move? How does their clothing help or hinder their range of motion? Are they flexible, coordinated, clumsy?

Zora walks with no worries, as if she knows where's she's going. She's used to standing and walking on boats back at home. Her boots (and to an extant her armor) only become an issue if the jaguar wants to come out and play. No she did not check for any traps ahead. Roxanne moves with a fluid motion and always seems aware of what's ahead. Dresses might occasionally catch a branch but she still finds them more freeing than any trouser type. Gunvor just. walks? Not much thought about it. Not graceful but not clumsy. Solid steps.

night: What does your OC wear to sleep? Do they have a favorite pair of PJs, or are they more the birthday suit type?

Honestly, I usually just draw them nude bc I'm lazy (also the whole intimacy of touching skin with partners) Outside of that, I'd say Zora would wear a kurta, Roxanne a shift, and Gunvor would just have her pants.

texture: Does your OC favor any specific kinds of cloth or textures? Is there anything they can't wear or don't like? What sort of fabrics do they prefer?

Of course Zora loves leathers. She loves the scales of gator and the smell of vegtan. She's used to the light cotton her sari fabrics tend to be, so the thicker wools of Vazlann are new to her. So far she hasn't had an issue with any fabrics. (That said, in modern au, she would hate fake furs and pleather for multiple reasons) Roxanne's used to linens and never quite used to the silks from temple garb. Gunvor's favorite texture was always the reindeer hide one of her brothers kept. The soft fur was always interesting when you consider how prickly deer fur is, and it was nice to sleep on.

change: Has your OC ever drastically changed their appearance? Significant haircuts, big tattoos, complete wardrobe swap, etc? Why? How do they feel about the change?

Zora has slowly added tattoos based on her inspirations; literally starting from the bottom up with her calves. Even with the mess of the addition of the sundisc tattoo, she doesn't have any regrets. The timing of the rosettes makes her chuckle. Roxanne currently hasn't made in major changes to her appearance. Gunvor's ink is all war paint, so she just changes it as she sees fit, simply keeping the colors in mind.