#luke hemmings x ofc

[lovesosweeet]

better left unsaid // cth

in which orion has leukemia, and calum doesn't know.

calum x fem!oc

ongoing

word count: 140k+

warnings: mentions of cancer, body image, weight loss. (if you’ve read it and have other things i should add here please tell me!)

read on AO3

chapter zero chapter one chapter two chapter three chapter four chapter five chapter six chapter seven chapter eight chapter nine chapter ten chapter eleven chapter twelve chapter thirteen chapter fourteen chapter fifteen chapter sixteen chapter seventeen chapter eighteen chapter nineteen chapter twenty chapter twenty one chapter twenty two chapter twenty three chapter twenty four chapter twenty five chapter twenty six chapter twenty seven chapter twenty eight chapter twenty nine chapter thirty chapter thirty one chapter thirty two (new 12/4/23) chapter thirty three (new 12/5/23) chapter thirty four (new 12/7/23) chapter thirty five (new 12/8/23) chapter thirty six (new 12/11/23) chapter thirty seven (new 12/11/23) chapter thirty eight (new 12/11/23) chapter thirty nine (new 12/12/23) chapter forty (new 12/12/23) chapter forty one (new 12/13/23) chapter forty two (new 12/13/23) chapter forty three (new 12/22/23) chapter forty four (new 12/27/23) chapter forty five (new 12/27/23)

chapter forty six (new 4/11/24) chapter forty seven (new 4/16/24) chapter forty eight (new 4/18/24)

[goodeapple]

dry clean only (modern hotd pwp, jace x sister!reader x luke)

pairing : Jacaerys x Ysilla (sister!OC) x Lucerys

warnings : MDNI. jesus where do i start... this is filthyyyyy. PWP, threesome, sibling incest, rimming, anal, DP, slight coercion, sibling incest, accidental voyeurism, unprotected intercourse, breeding kink (ofc), & did i mention sibling incest?

word count : 4,000+

note : i kind of lost my marbles with this one... brain drove straight to Hornyville and set up camp. in the nicest way, if u don't like, don't read <3

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Laundry day. Fucking laundry day.

“Laundry day.” Ysilla had said when Jace stopped her in the hallway, and she shrugged before heading towards her room. So simple, so nonchalant, as if it were normal for her to parade around in nothing but one of his t-shirts. He lasts a solid forty minutes- a new record- before he pauses his game, and yells into the nearly empty house.

“Sil! Get in here!”

She takes her sweet time, minutes passing until she appears in his open doorway, propping her hip up on the jam. “You rang?”

Jace bristles at her nonchalance, bouncing his knee anxiously, still sitting in his gaming chair.  

“You doin’ that on purpose, Silli?” He waves a hand in her direction, a sweep from the tips of her white pedicured toes to the spirals of her midnight curls. 

His sister finishes texting, before at last giving over her attention.

Ysilla bats her feather duster lashes at him, all doe eyes and a pouty pink mouth. “Course not, I told you. Got nothing else that’s clean.” 

“I find that hard to believe…” Jace grumbles. She swipes their mum’s Amex like it’s going out of style. Her wardrobe looks like a Christmastime department store. 

“You don’t like that I’m wearing your clothes?” She asks, plucking at the hem of his shirt, pulling the thin material tight over her tits. The shadows of her areolas become prominent and Jace feels his balls draw up tight. Even so, familial annoyance is stronger than that of a hundred men and he rolls his eyes. 

“It’s mine. Don’t take my shit without asking, brat.” 

It’s a tepid delivery at best, but it has a fire lighting in her that makes her amethyst orbs glow.

“Fine.” Without any preamble, Ysilla strolls into his room until she arrives in front of him and pulls his shirt off and over her head. Tossing it in his face, she crosses her arms under her breasts, her rosy mocha nipples pebbling in the artificially cool air. “Happy?” He misses her smirk but he can hear it in her voice. 

“Not on purpose my ass.” Jace growls, ripping the shirt off of him. Springing to his feet, his fist finds its way into her hair and he yanks her to his mouth. She tastes like matcha and spearmint, and the strawberry gloss thick on her lips.

She melts into his chest, putty in his devout hands. Her own hands rise to cradle his face, still lost in their kiss as she strokes her thumb over the defined edge of his jaw. Jace unwinds his fist, unclenching it to lay his palm flat at the nape of her neck. Too soon, she pulls away, smiling triumphantly as he tries to chase her lips. 

“You’re so easy to tease, little brother.” 

“Nothing little about what I’m about to give you.” Jace goads, running his hands down her bare back, tracing the twin dimples dotting the bloom of her backside. He pulls her forward until there’s not even a whisper left between them. The new stance does wonders for them both, Jace sliding his thigh between Ysilla’s. She’s not wearing any panties. And she’s already wet. He rocks his knee along her clit, the pearl perked and pronounced, and Jace knows if he keeps it up she’ll cream all over his leg. 

“Bed. M’not bouncing on your lap in your game chair.” She whines, tugging off his hoodie and shimmying down his basketball shorts, a woman on a mission. 

“Not like you haven’t done it before.” He bites but concedes, ushering her backwards into his bed. He gets her underneath him for a brief, blissful moment before he’s maneuvered onto his back. She likes to be on top- a throne fit for a princess, as she said once before. Plus, I like to see the face you make when you cum. 

He spits into his palm, stroking himself quickly. A little extra slide is never a bad thing. “Sissy, spread your legs.” 

Ysilla does what she’s told (for once) and goes gooey as Jace slips the head of himself into her opening. He gets a handful of her hips, thumbing at her hip bones as he eases her down, letting her slide onto every rigid inch. She whimpers, wiggling on his lap as she bottoms out on his dick. Gods above. Targaryen men and their horse cocks will be the absolute death of her. 

“Jaceyyyyyy,�� she whines, the pressure in her lower belly a heaviness she can’t shake. 

“If you wanted dick, all you had to do was say so.” Jace chuckles but it’s labored. She’s so fucking tight- he doesn’t know if it’s the pilates she does or good genetics, but it’s like being in a turtleneck in July. 

Within a second, his door squeaks open and the two tangled Targaryens would jump apart if they didn’t know exactly who would be getting home at 4PM on a Wednesday. 

“Ooohhhh, what are you two gettin’ up to, eh?” Luke’s hand smacks down a greeting on Ysilla’s backside, and she jumps from the sting. He sprawls out in the previously occupied chair, giving himself a front row seat to his brother and sister’s debauchery. 

Luke is sprouting, taller than even their dad. He tugs down his trackies, of course a stereotypical grey that hugs him just right, and his cock springs up, bobbing back and forth like a metronome. He’s not super thick around his shaft, but the kids got length that you feel knocking in your stomach. 

Ysilla stares, shamelessly, her throat awfully lonely. He notices and lets her attention go straight to his head (both of them).

“See something you like, babe?” Luke winks at her, a cheeky grin plucking up his lips. He pumps himself once, a bead of precum crowning his pretty cock. 

“Lukey,” he whines at Ysilla’s croon. His sister is so fucking stunning- gorgeous, breathtaking. He’d do anything for her. She’s the voice in his head, the drive in his passion, the star in his fantasies. She’s been there for everything- it’s hard for him not to be a little bit sprung. 

“You forget about me, love?” Jace places a wet kiss at the cradle of her jaw. Ysilla smiles, tangling her fingers in his tight curls. 

They have curly hair, all three of them. Ysilla knows Harwin isn’t her dad- her sperm donor, she means. Harwin has been there for all the things that mattered and those that didn’t, he’s her fucking dad. Blood doesn’t get to take that away from her. And in pictures, it’s easy to believe they’re all from the same vine. Until you account for Viz and Aeg and their momma, and then every family photo is a whole motley crew snapshot.

“Don’t be jealous, Jace.” She coos, in a mellow mocking voice. 

He rolls his eyes, a pink blush prickling at his freckled cheeks. He steals a proper kiss this time, a wet peck that has Ysilla coming back for more, opening her mouth in a slow, sensual lick. Jace grinds into her, basking in her gasps that he drinks down drunkenly.

A particularly pitiful moan from the foot of the bed reminds her to be generous with her attention. Jace lets go of her mouth, head dipping down just so that he catches her swinging breast in his mouth. He widens his jaw, tongue lapping lewdley at her flesh, looking as if he’s trying to swallow it whole. Ysilla strokes his cheek fondly. He gets so needy like this- needs his big sister to keep him grounded. She lets her head loll back, pinning Luke with a simmering stare that is reminiscent of predator and prey. It shouldn’t twist up his belly like it does but he’s long passed caring about what gets him off. As long as she’ll let him taste her. 

“Wanna join us, bud?” 

Luke nods, all boyish enthusiasm, eager to please. “Wherever you want me, sis.” 

Ooooh, that’s a fun thought. Her mouth floods with saliva, her taste buds perking up at the thought of Luke’s salty spunk. She gives a good handy, she could jerk him off until he busts. Or, she could flip onto her back, ride Jace in reverse and let Luke straddle her chest and maul her tits until he’d gift her a pearl necklace. Decisions, decisions. Ysilla rocks faster on Jace’s cock, dragging him in and out of her in a way that has her clit fluttering like butterfly wings. 

Absently, she rubs down her left cheek, still stinging from Luke’s slap, and lets her fingertips dip into her cleft. She’s wet there too- fuck, more like soaked. She was riding her vibrator until Jace had finally called her to him. She’d been dripping since she stole his shirt from his dresser, going absolutely mental at the soft cotton caressing her nipples, his cologne soaked into the fabric. She huffed it like an addict, brought it up to her nose while she rode the vibe until her hand cramped.

Luke’s eyes follow her wandering hand, and his brows scrunch in agonized pleasure as she slips a finger over her tight, clenched hole. Decision made. 

“Want you right here, Lucerys.” Ysilla murmurs, knocking her knees further apart, bringing her stomach to stomach with Jace as a result. “Want you both, at the same time.”

Luke’s eyes go gumball wide. “You forreal?” 

She bites at her lip, moaning as Jace thrusts hard. He’s as excited by the idea as she is. She nods fervently, arching her back more invitingly and Luke fucking moans, tightening his grip on the base of his cock. 

“Fuck, you two are so hot.” He grinds into his fist, his other hand drifting beneath him and rolling his balls between strong fingers. He kicks his sweats the rest of the way off, unable to stop himself as he jerks off faster, his sack tightening in a tantalizing threat.

Jace notices, releasing Ysilla’s breast from his famished mouth. “Don’t blow yet, bro. Wait ‘til you’re inside her.” 

Ysilla smirks, turning her sights back to the man buried in her cunt. 

“Yeah? Wanna wait until he’s inside me? Want you both to fill me up with your cum ‘till it leaks out of my holes?” She whispers at Jace’s throat, dropping an open mouthed kiss over his Adam’s apple. 

Jace can give as good as he gets. “What if I do? What if I want to see my cum drip out of your tight cunny, and plug you up with something so it sticks? Could get you barefoot and pregnant, could get you bouncing on my cock all day long while your belly grows with my babe.” He rubs at her tits, pinching and plucking at her spit slick nipple with a tenderness he means wholeheartedly as he whispers his depraved fancy into her ear. 

Ysilla clenches around him, tight enough that his vision whites out for a moment. She can’t help it, bouncing up and down on his fat cock, his words liquid lust in her tummy. 

“Oh, Jace. Jacey Jacey, fuck, little brother.” She pants, taking every inch of his shaft over and over again, hissing at the stretch of it burning up her insides. Gods, she never tires of it- his cock is such a treat, one she only indulges in when she has the time to truly savor it. 

“You got one more little brother right behind ya, pretty girl.” Luke whispers at her ear, kissing her pulse point with delicate lips.

Jace reaches into his bedside drawer, pulling out a bottle and tossing it on the duvet. “Lube, man.” 

The eldest brother busies his hands, grabbing ahold of his sister’s plush backside, a cheek in each palm, and pulls her apart to expose her to their little brother’s lecherous gaze. Dropping to his knees, Luke spits a glob of saliva into her puckered hole, enjoying how her sensitive skin quivers under his attention. He coats his fingers generously with the thick gel, and he’s gentle as he presses one past the thick muscle of her entrance. She squeals sharply before Jace occupies her mouth, shoving in two fingers for her to suck on. Ysilla has an oral fixation- a dick, chewing gum, popsicles, all her go-to’s when she’s stressed. 

Luke takes advantage of Jace’s help, gliding in another finger that makes her cry out even louder. Shit, she’s got to gut up if she wants to take his dick. He scissors them back and forth, methodical in working her open. He’s only ever done this to himself, but he’s got the basics down: preparation, lube, going slow, more lube, etcetera. He keeps it up until her whimpers have died down, and when he starts to feel her rock back against him.

Satisfied, he pulls out his fingers and coats his shaft with the lube, hissing at the cool sting on his sensitive skin. He spreads it over his head with a loose grip. He’s already worked up enough, the last thing he wants to do is let his big sister down by cumming on her ass instead of inside of it. 

He edges up onto his hands, ready to push upwards onto the bed so that he can take his place behind Ysilla but he’s stopped by something straight out of a wet dream. Luke whistles low. That’s a million dollar shot right there: Jace’s thick veiny cock pulling out before pumping back into Ysilla’s hot pink center, the shine coating their thighs glistening in the late afternoon sun. He wonders if he could convince either of his siblings to let him film them. He knows the answer is most likely a hard no, but a boy can dream. 

The carpet beneath his knees is starting to give him rug burn but he's so transfixed, it's like he's been hypnotized. A simple, sinful thought comes unbidden into his mind and he grins. While he's down here, he might as well sightsee. Luke ducks down, and sucks one of Jace’s balls into his mouth, just to hear his brother curse him in Valyrian. He rolls it around his tongue, before releasing it with a satisfied pop! and takes a lick of the cream seeping from Silli’s hole. 

Ysilla flinches away, kicking out her foot to shove at his shoulder. He chuckles and relents, adrenaline tight in his muscles as he wraps his arms around her dainty waist and lines up behind her.

"Here goes nothin', gang." Luke shudders out a breath as he maneuvers into position, and edges forward painfully slow as Ysilla's pretty ass swallows his dick. It takes forever and a day, but finally, thankfully, he's all the way in, flush with the back of her thighs and mind melting out of his ears.

“Good Gods above, Lukey.” Ysilla has to remind herself to breathe. 

“You okay sissy?” Luke pecks her temple, tucking her bangs back behind her ear. She blushes, cheeks burning hot- he’s such a good boy. 

“I’m fine, dude. It’s just… neither of you are small. I can feel you tickling my tonsils.” 

“Fucking hell. I can feel him, mercy, I can feel him through you, Silli.” Jace sobs wetly, hands shaking where he has a hold of her hips. Mother, Father and fucking Crone, this is infuckingsane. He can’t last like this, he isn’t superhuman for Gods’ sake. 

“Don’t you fucking dare, Jacaerys. If I’m taking both of your cocks, I’ll get time to enjoy it. You’ll cum when I tell you to.” She commands, all eldest child superiority, even with a strained voice. 

“Yes, sissy.” He croaks out, his irises misty like a spring rain. She hums approvingly, withholding her praise until he can deliver on his promise.

“Same goes for you, kiddo.” She aims over her shoulder.

“Anything you say, Silli.” Luke draws out, letting her agonize over every long inch before fucking himself back into her ass. 

The brothers start to build a gentle push-pull rhythm, one in one out, trying to get her adjusted to having two dicks inside of her- as if that’s something that someone can get used to after five fucking minutes. But as the pain and discomfort fade into a fullness that she feels up to her throat, little jabs of pleasure have Ysilla pushing herself back and forth against her boys. 

“This is crazy, holy shit this is crazy.” She gasps, hands wildly clutching at anything she can.

“Never felt something this tight. Squeezing the fuckin’ life out of me, bloody hell.” Luke gasps into her shoulder, eyes screwed shut in concentration, dragging his hips back and forth.

Jace can't talk- all of his focus on not blowing his top and facing his sister's wrath. Sparing a glance at her, he can't help but sigh out:

“You're so fucking pretty, Sil.”

The look of love that accompanies Jace’s hushed praise has the tightening snapping loose in Ysilla's belly, vainly getting off from his attention. Well that, and the fact that she's double stuffed like an Oreo.

Her orgasm slices through her, a hot knife through butter, and a violent shiver racks up her spine. She bows upward in some type of silly attempt to get away from Jace’s plundering cock, but all she succeeds in doing is arching into Luke’s greedy hands and greenlighting him into slamming into her hole even harder. 

“Oh, oh! I can’t take it. It’s too much, stop!” Ysilla pleads, pushing and pulling at all of the naked skin surrounding her, overwhelmed and overfucked.

“Do you think she really means that, Lukey?” Jace asks and it’s too sugar sweet to be anything but condescending. 

“No fuckin’ way, mate. This ass wouldn’t let me go for anything.” Luke slurs, half fucking stupid, his smarts being squeezed out by way of his prick. 

“I’m not a unnhhhh. Not just a hole for you two to fuck.” Her words would land a better mark if there wasn’t a thin line of drool dripping off of her bottom lip, her eyes gone glossy. Her pussy throbs, her heartbeat pulsing there as well as violently in her ears. 

Luke fish hooks her, pulling her into his lips by the meat of her cheek. “Shut the fuck up, Ysi.” He says it so adoringly before releasing her, only to keep her quiet as he slides his tongue into her mouth. It does the job, Ysilla suckling at it like it’s a lolli. 

Jace lets his hands wander, worshiping the beautiful bodies laid out for his ravenous gaze. His fingers tickle over the dip of Luke’s slight waist, his thumb strokes the flare of Ysilla’s ribcage- his hands discovering and mapping a route of impassioned fealty that he will never forget. They're both his. It's an absolutely mental thought, one he should have no business entertaining but here, in his bed, none of them are to think of anything else but each other. 

Jace grabs Ysilla tight by her jaw, ripping her away from Luke’s tongue. He brings her in close, forcing her to stare into his sweet chocolate eyes. “I’m gonna nut in your pussy, sissy, and Luke’s gonna fill that ass up. And you’re gonna take it, like the good girl you are, or I’ll put you on your knees and have you suck my cock until dinnertime.”

Ysilla giggles, delighting in the way Jace’s smirk turns down into a sneer. Humbling her brothers is an A1 skill, one she’s perfected over the years with a constant dedication to her craft.

“Promise?”

Jace chuckles, because he’s sick like she is. Still holding her close, his grip slips down to wrap around her throat. He pushes up, palm tight to her windpipe and forces her flush to Luke’s sweaty chest. He presses his feet into his mattress, praying for leverage, and plows every inch of his thick dick into her cunt. 

Luke’s lungs shrivel up, the friction of his brother’s thrusting cock through the thin skin separating Ysilla’s holes too much for him to take. He hunches over her, slinging his arm around her hips. He yanks her into an arch, his forearm digging tightly into where her lower belly meets her mound, and humps desperately at the curve of her backside. 

Jace chases them, fucking his hips up into his siblings wildly, the wet smack of his thighs against Ysilla’s fucking nasty. He wraps his legs around all of them, crossing his ankles above Luke’s tight, thrusting ass, keeping them all nice and close. 

“Fuckkkk yeah, take that dick. Both of you.” 

Gods bless football, the muscles threaded through his chicken legs all due to his practicing and playing. Fuck, he should make Sil wear his jersey after his next game. Maybe even convince Luke to give him a mouthful of his junk, make him stretch out his throat while Silli rides his lap. Do it in the car park after the match. His tint is dark enough- he could have them together, anyway he wants while the rest of his team would pile into their own cars, none the wiser to sinful shit their star striker gets up to with his own flesh and blood. 

Jace knows he doesn’t have much left in his tank; he was ready to bust as soon as Luke slid home alongside him. He doesn’t want to finish yet- somewhat pridefully, not before his little brother. One thing is on his side though- he has a big fucking mouth. 

“So pretty, both of my fucking sluts. Gonna knock you two up, breed you until you’re fucking sick of it.”

Ysilla and Luke’s eyes roll back, mirror images of lust, and Jace doesn’t know if he imagines it but he swears he can feel it as Luke breaks, his cum molten hot through the partition of Silli’s walls as he spills deep into her guts.

“Fuckkk yes, cum inside of her Luke. Make it messy, shit, I’m cumming, I’m cumming.” Jace spits through clenched teeth, digging his heels cruelly into Luke’s soft thighs. As if on cue, both brothers’ trembling fingers dive between Ysilla’s legs, and rub furiously at her clit. She chokes, her nails rooting into each one of them, keeping them close as she breaks the fuck apart. One of them shouts as she clamps down in a vice grip, but it's all static in her ears, her orgasm washing anything away that's not white hot heat. It lasts so long her toes go numb and her knees shake tremors throughout her thighs.

Luke and Ysilla topple like a house of cards, landing in a jumbled pile of limbs and other sweat soaked appendages. Jace’s bed is a King but even so, the trio chooses to remain wrapped up in each other, gasping for breath and stretching out sore legs. 

The peek of sky through the blinds gets dimmer the longer they all lie there, the glow from the TV glaring brighter and brighter as the room dips into darkness. Jace searches for his remote, doing his best not to jostle his bedmates, until he finds it under his pillow. Going for the red power button, his thumb hovers over it until a flashing icon in the corner of the screen pitches his stomach like he’s on a rollercoaster. 

“Oh, fuck me.”

“I don’t think I have the energy to do that.” Luke groans, face buried in his sister’s back. 

“Me either.” Ysilla chuckles wearily, already well on her way to unconsciousness, snuggled between her favorite boys. Jace winces, letting them enjoy the last few seconds of afterglow before he ruins the rest of their lives.

“Okay… neither of you can hit me for what I’m about to tell you.”

Ysilla blinks at him, suddenly wide awake at the tense tone he’s taken on.

“Jace… what is it?”

He stares at the F1 pause screen, Aegon T. connected via headset still lit up in green in the top right corner. His own headset rests innocently atop his desk, the mic almost pointing accusingly towards the bed. And there’s no way in any of the Seven Hells that their uncle didn’t just get an earful of his niece and nephews railing each other into oblivion. 

“I think we may have a huge fucking problem.”

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[melkintoyou]

water fall (interluuube)

pairing: jaemin x gf!reader genre: established relationship, wholesome, smut, lil bit of size-kink? (pls close the gyms before I lose my mind) word count: 1.7k summary: coming home to your boyfriend and kittens after a long, tiring day at work. featuring luna, lucy and luke ofc. :) jaemin is a cat dilf.

Dropping your bags to the floor, you locked the door behind you as you stepped into your home. Small foot steps and meows filled the room, as your kittens ran to you. 

“Hi babies” You coo’d, immediately getting on your knees and petting them. The kittens rubbed their faces on you and purred. Just like that, the tiredness you had been feeling on your way home, disappeared. The muscles in your body relaxed and you were so happy to be home. 

“Where is your dad?” You asked the kittens in baby talk, giving them kisses and pets. 

Scooping them all up in your arms, you got up and made your way to the bedroom. 

“Hi doll, how was your day?” Jaemin looked up and smiled, putting his laptop away to give you his full attention. 

You walked over towards him, dropping the kittens on the bed and sat beside Jaemin. You sighed, falling into his arms. 

“I’m tired” you mumbled into his neck. His scent engulfed your senses as you melted further into his frame. 

“Baby.. come lay.” He pulled you onto the bed and you got comfortable with your head on his lap. 

Jaemin ran his fingers through your hair as you talked about your day. His touch was soft and gentle. He let you rant for what felt like hours. His responses filled with mms and chuckles at the stories. You told him about how loud kids can get during field trips and how much that hurts your head, even though seeing kids happy is what made you get into teaching in the first place. 

“Not everyone can be as well behaved as our babies, you know?” You said, pointing to the kittens playing amongst themselves. 

“You’re right, we are raising them right babe.” Jaemin dropped his head down and gave you a kiss. 

“I think we make good parents, personally” “Isn’t that right kitties?” He wiggled his fingers on the bed, getting the kittens’ attention as they ran to grab his hand and you both giggled.

You twisted your head to look at up at him, unintentionally moving closer to his crotch. “I love you guys, my little family.” 

“And I love you” Jaemin felt his cheeks get hot with embarrassment as he tried to pull his t-shirt further down, covering his now slowly growing semi. 

Your boyfriend looked away trying to distract himself and his fingers in your hair came to a halt. 

“Baby, why’d you stop?” You twisted your head once again, to look up at him and he held your head in place. “It’d be nice if you kept your head still” He said still refusing to meet your eyes.

“Huh?” “Wait- wha?” You burst out laughing as Jaemin tried to hold his laugh in too. He continued to adjust his t-shirt but you caught on to what was going on.

“Really Jaem?! In front of the kids?” You pulled his hand away from his t-shirt to look at his erection and teased him.

Grabbing a cat toy from your night stand, you wiggled it around before throwing out into the living room. Lucy, Luna and Luke ran after it, leaving you both alone in the room. 

“Jaem, look at me..” You whispered to your flustered boyfriend, who couldn’t stop giggling coyly. 

It didn’t take long for his giggles to stop and his breath to hitch when you slowly snaked your hand over his clothed dick. You palmed him as you looked up at him and he held your face, smiling down at you.

You could feel the atmosphere shift in the room when his dick became fully erect and his breathing got heavy from your touch. Jaemin’s face came down once again, as you got up and met his lips half way, hungrily. 

Sitting on your heels, you reached for the hem of his t-shirt and ripped it off him and he returned the favour. Taking your trousers off, you couldn’t wait to get on his lap and straddle him, deepening the kiss. Jaemin’s hands felt big around your waist, as he kneaded your skin. Panting in unison, the heat began to grow between you two and you moaned into his mouth. 

Jaemin’s mouth made its way down to your jawline, then behind your ear, leaving a trail of wet kisses. He gave your ear a gentle bite, which made your hips grind down on his erection. You felt your underwear beginning to soak through when it made contact with his hard, heavy length.

He continued to kiss you along your neck, collar bones until he made his way to your breasts and he pulled down your bra to take a nipple in his mouth. Your hands grabbed his head, affectionately caressing it. 

Jaemin was a lot bigger than you in size, so seeing him like this, under you with your breast in his mouth, made your head spin. Your right hand travelled down to the side of his neck as you held onto him for support, your nails grazed his skin and he groaned into you. 

“Need you..” You whimpered when he brought his fingers began playing with your nipple. He left kisses back up to find your lips once again. His tongue deep inside you mouth, making you ache for him. He began thrusting against your clit to meet your subtle movements on him, both of you swallowing each others moan. 

Jaemin bit your bottom lip as he pulled away. “Then take me.” 

He leaned back into the headboard, admiring you in your aroused state. He smiled. You loved Jaemin’s smile, it could light up any room he walked into. It was your favourite thing about him. His hands rested on your hips, holding you in place as you took him out of his boxers. 

You leaned in to peck his lips again before, you let some spit slowly drop down to his dick and you worked his length. Jaemin maintained the eye contact as his expressions began to switch. His smile faded into his mouth slightly parted and his eyebrows furrowed, at your touch. 

He bit his lip, “just like that doll, keep going.” He whispered, rubbing your hips with his big hands. 

Sounds of his pre cum, mixed with your spit could be heard and it only made you grow wetter. Jaemin lightly traced his hands along your front, until his thumb found its way to your clit where he began rubbing circles. You started to feel impatient. You needed to feel him. You had to have him right now. 

Jaemin moved your ruined panties to the side, as he rubbed your slit with his long finger. He slid his digit inside you which was met with a mmmm sound from you. 

“You ready for me already?” He commented on your wetness with a gasp.

“Come here.” 

Jaemin grabbed your hands, moving them to his broad, muscly shoulders as he pulled you in closer, connecting your lips once again. You felt your heart beat inside your ears from desire, taking over every atom in your body, when you felt him twitch under you. You sighed into his mouth once again before grabbing the base of his dick, you hovered over him. 

Apparent desperation on your face, made Jaemin smile as he pulled your panties to the side once more, staring into your eyes. You both held eye contact as you slowly sunk down on him, making his jaw go slack and his head fall back. You gasped, taking him in, inch by inch, until he filled you up. 

You let out a loud whimper as your head also fell into his neck and you started to move. Stroking him painfully slow, unable to stop your thighs from shaking and moans rolling out of you like  breathing. 

Jaemin slid down further, giving you more control and wrapped his arms around you. Mirroring his actions, you also wrapped your arms around his head as he buried his face into your chest. His tongue found its way to your nipples once again, making you squirm.

“You’re doing so good, doll.. just like that” Jaemin breathed out, digging his nails into your back and scratching all the way down to your waist. He smacked your ass. “Keep going for me…” 

It wasn’t long before you felt your orgasm come crashing as you unraveled on top of Jaemin, leaving him in a daze. He grabbed your jaw and kissed you. 

“Spit.” He opened his mouth under you, and you did as you were asked. “Pretty girl.” Jaemin lightly tapped your cheek with his hand, as you rode out your climax. 

He didn’t know what to do with his hands, as the heat inside him continued to grow and he felt lightheaded. His desire was taking over him and he bucked his hips to go deeper inside you with a loud groan. You swore you were seeing stars as he held you in place and started fucking into you with deep, hard thrusts. Your whole body felt like jelly as you let Jaemin take control and you fell into the crook of his neck. 

You sucked on his neck, interchanging with moans every now and then, as Jaemin continued to pound into you. He felt his own orgasm reaching when his strokes started becoming faster and your tits bounced in his face. He took one in his mouth to muffle his moans as he began twitching inside you, triggering yet another orgasm for you. 

“I.. “ You breathed out. “Gonna cum again” You barely let out a whisper and you both finished at the same time. Fireworks flying around the room would be an understatement as you both panted, heavily and your cries of his name filled the space around you. 

As Jaemin’s body went limp, you lifted up your head from his neck to look at his fucked out eyes and he kissed the bottom of your chin. You began to move slowly, as you over stimulated him. 

Whimpers and incoherent sentences fell from his mouth making his constrict on you tighter. 

“Y/N.. please” He looked up at you like a puppy, begging. 

You giggled before stopping and kissed him all over his face. You both sat there, with him inside you like that for a while. Catching your breath and waiting for your heart rates to be stable again. 

“Hungry?” Jaemin said after a while.

“SO BAD.” You exclaimed, making Jaemin smile at you. 

He smacked your ass hard before gently rubbing and playing with it. “Alright, get up and lemme make you something to eat yeah?” 

He placed one last kiss on your lips.

[humanpurposes]

It Will Come Back

Chapter 1, You Know Better

Two sides of a family fight for their own claims to the Targaryen inheritance. Amongst the endless infighting, forced pleasantries and PR scandals, Jaya Velaryon finds herself face to face with a demon of her past, namely Aemond Targaryen. Love and hate are not emotions easily unlearned.

Series Masterlist // Main Masterlist

Aemond Targaryen x Jaya Velaryon (OFC)

Warnings: 18+, dark elements, targcest (uncle x niece relationship) toxic family dynamics, drinking, recreational drug use, manipulation (I guess?)

Words: 5800

A/n: Please make sure you read the warnings. If any of this stuff makes you uncomfortable feel free to give it a miss 🫶 Also serves as my (very very late) entry for Week 1 of the literary prompts for @hotd-bigbang

“He’s more myself than I am. Whatever our souls are made of, his and mine are the same.” -Wuthering Heights

6 years earlier...

Jaya leaned on her shoulder against the wall by the side door, waiting as inconspicuously as she could despite the fact she was dressed in a black crop top, skirt and pumps. Clearly, she had no intention of spending the evening at home.

She shifted her weight on her feet, pulled at the hem of her crop top and checked the pocket of her black denim jacket; pocket mirror, lipgloss, eyeliner, and the vintage lighter Aemond had slipped into her hands a few months ago. Every time she tried to give it back he wouldn’t take it. She smiled to herself as she traced her thumb over the engraving of a three headed dragon in the silver plating. He said he had found it in his father’s study years ago, but Viserys had enough of them to not notice that one had gone missing, apparently.

She froze when she heard footsteps coming down the stairs and through the hallway. They were too light to be Laenor’s, too quick to be Rhaenyra’s, too cautious to be Luke or Joff.

Jace appeared through the archway, a red blazer thrown over his shoulder, his shirt untucked and unbuttoned at the top to show off two chains, one gold, one silver. His perfectly white sneakers hardly made a sound against the hardwood floors. He tutted when he saw her.

“What?” she said, tightening her grip on the lighter in her pocket.

“Nothing,” he mumbled. “Let’s just get this over with.”

Jaya had a few memories of their apartments at the Red Keep. She considered the humbly named Queen’s Lodge to be the only home she had ever known. The house sat on a large estate in the corner of Queen’s Park, not too far from the centre of King’s Landing, but removed from the noise and chaos of the city. The front looked out over immaculately kept gardens while the back of the house was for leisure, the patio, the pool and the tennis court beyond that. The side door Jaya and Jace found themselves passing through every Friday night led out to a small orchard of apple trees.

Summer was fast approaching but the night air was far from warm. Once Jace had locked the door from the inside latch and pocketed the spare key, Jaya led him down the barely visible path, down to a denser grove of older, taller trees, to the iron fence that bordered the entire estate. Jace hoisted her up and over the fence before clambering after her.

Where the daylight saw countless people passing through the park, the Velaryon twins walked through darkness and silence along the boardwalk, down to the gates that were locked every day at sunset. 

Well, almost silence. Jace walked a few paces behind his sister, huffing and sighing pointedly.

“You don’t have to come if you don’t want to,” Jaya said over her shoulder, a fact she reminded him of every week.

“I’m not going to let you go alone,” Jace said.

She tried to appreciate the intention, but having him dragging his feet behind her, constantly complaining when he could just stay home was frankly getting exhausting.

“I won’t be alone,” she said, checking the last few texts on her phone.

The first read, Here.

Which was soon followed by, Hurry up. It’s fucking cold :)

Jaya giggled to herself and looked ahead. The gate was coming into view now, and so were the two girls waiting by it. 

They were both dressed in black, Sabby in a mini dress trimmed with lace, Alyssane in flared jeans, a Vivienne Westwood top and a pearl necklace. 

“Did you not think to bring a jacket, Sabs?” Jaya grinned as Jace helped her over the gate.

“It’s strategic,” Alysanne said, “she’ll complain she’s cold and some cool, sexy economics student will offer her his jacket.”

“Politics,” Sabby said, reaching to help Jaya as she slipped down. “Gods, you must be the first person to ever say ‘cool’, ‘sexy’ and ‘economics student’ in the same sentence.”

From the park it was only a short walk to the bus stop, and a matter of minutes until they reached Conquest Street. Jaya loved it, the energy buzzing in the streets as they passed the pubs and bars, music pulsing from every direction, people laughing and shouting to make themselves heard. 

From there she knew the way to Maegor’s Square without thinking. A few people lingered around the garden at the centre of the square and some leaned over the balconies in their aparments, smoking cigarettes and sipping expensive booze from mismatched glasses.

Then they came to the townhouse on the corner, with the emerald green door and the gold knocker in the shape of a dragon’s head. A bit on the nose, but their family were hardly known for their subtlety.

“I can’t believe you got us an invite to one of Aegon’s parties,” Alysanne hissed excitedly into her ear.

It was nothing really, Aegon wasn’t picky about the company he kept, and if anything, he liked picking up waifs and strays.

Jaya smiled as she checked her makeup in her pocket mirror. “Well, I am his favourite niece,” she said, smudging out the eyeliner in the corners of her eyes.

“You’re his only niece,” Jace grumbled.

“Exactly, no room for competition,” Jaya said, before applying another swipe of red lipgloss over her lips. “How do I look?” she asked the three of them.

Alysanne and Sabby immediately responded with praise that just seemed to float through her.

Jace tilted his head. For a moment Jaya thought she saw pity in her brother’s eyes.

“Beautiful,” he said, “you’re always beautiful.”

Jaya tutted. She didn’t mean her, she meant the makeup.

She tapped the knocker four times before being greeted by a haze of smoke, the smell of liquor and a slow psychedelic rock song playing from another room. The door had been opened by Arryk Cargyll, one of Aegon’s uni friends. He had a glass of clear liquid and ice in his hand and a cigarette hanging in the corner of his mouth. He hugged Jaya tightly and she beamed back, making a point to ask about his upcoming internship at Lannister Legal. He seemed impressed that she had remembered.

“Third year law,” she said to Alysanne and Sabby. “And he has a twin brother, Erryk. Politics,” she added with a wink. The girls giggled.

Jace settled for a quick handshake and a nod.

“Friends from school?” Arryk asked as he greeted the girls.

“Yeah, we’re all at Peremore’s,” Alysanne said, slotting herself beside him with a well-practised smile. They had another few weeks of classes before their final exams, but they all had their university applications confirmed. 

Arryk led them through the bodies lingering in the hallway, into the kitchen and Alysanne began the usual routine of telling him what she studied– Politics, Psychology and Literature– and her plans to do Law at Vale. Sabby looked a little sour.

Jaya made herself at home, leaning against the black marble countertop, grinning to herself as Arryk suggested opening a bottle of champagne. He poured out four glasses, keeping one for himself, handing one each to Sabby and Alysanne. He went to give the fourth to Jaya then looked to Jace with a look of embarrassment.

“It’s fine,” Jace said shortly, “I’ll get myself a beer–”

“Jacey boy!” a theatrical voice called as the double glass door to the garden swung open. Aegon Targaryen swept into the room with a cold breeze, slapping his hand down on his nephew’s shoulder.

Jaya briefly glanced around the room, searching for another head of silver hair. Her heart sank a little when she didn’t find it.

The angles of Aegon’s face made him look severe, especially when he smiled, but it was countered by his wide violet eyes with a softer, sadder look. He looked at Jaya, with a firm hand on Jace’s shoulder, and smiled. She smiled back.

“Made it at last,” Aegon said as Jace shrugged him off. “I thought you two were getting here early.”

“No I told you,” Jaya said, nodding to her friends, “I brought guests.”

Aegon could turn charm on like a switch. His voice suddenly took on a richer tone as he introduced himself to the girls, shaking their hands and pressing light kisses to their knuckles.

Jace plucked a green bottle from the fridge and began to drink, scowling at everyone between sips.

“Could you at least look like you’re having fun?” Jaya muttered into his ear as he settled beside her against the counter.

“What’s fun about this?” he replied.

She supposed she knew what he meant. These parties weren’t always as exciting as she wanted them to be, watching other people get wasted, sitting through not-entirely-sober lectures from Aegon’s friends, which really just felt like they were getting off to the sound of their own voices. It could be quite intimidating sometimes, but this was just how adults had fun.

She had this vision that one day something would just click. All the boring parts of parties would seem fun, the drinks wouldn’t taste as strong, the mindless small talk with people she didn’t know would make sense, the music wouldn’t feel so loud. 

For now she had her own reason for coming to Maegor’s Square every Friday night.

Her heart hummed when she heard footsteps coming from the hallway. A few voices muttered vague greetings which were met by a distant “hmm.” 

“Why haven’t you got a drink yet, Jaya?” Aegon asked and she realised she had yet to take the champagne from Arryk.

Suddenly the footsteps stopped and a thrill slipped down her spine. Someone was looming behind her. She could feel his breath on her neck and the heat radiating from his body.

“She’ll have some of this,” a low but soft voice said, holding out a glass of red wine in front of her. She recognised his hand, the veins and the tendons prominent underneath pale skin. The silver signet ring on his little finger, engraved with a three headed dragon. The scent of his perfume, woody and green, lingering with the smell of tobacco.

Jaya took the glass with her fingertips, trying to hide her delight as she turned over her shoulder to face him. Aemond gazed down at her with a gentle look in his blue eyes and the corners of his mouth curled into a small smile.

“What is it?” she asked, bringing it to her lips.

“It’s Dornish,” he said, “you’ll like it.”

She wasn’t sure if she liked it, so much as she could swallow it without wincing, but Aemond always seemed so happy when she liked the things he gave her. His eyes were fixed on her face as she took three small sips, and wiped away the red imprint of her lipgloss on the rim. It was sour and it left a slight burn on her tongue. She muttered an apology about the lipgloss but he didn’t seem to mind, drinking from the other side of the glass when he took it back. 

She kept her back to the others as Aegon, Arryk and the girls all became better acquainted. She stayed as close to Aemond as she dared, her chest a few inches from his, her neck craning to look up at him even with her heels.

“I missed you while you were away,” she said, fighting the urge to fiddle with the fabric of her skirt or the polished surface of her red painted nails.

Aemond’s mother liked to whisk her children away every year for a few weeks around spring break, usually to join the rest of the Hightower family at Honeywine Hall, an old manor house in the mountains. It sounded perfect, hiking, horse trails, swimming in reservoirs and trips into Oldtown. She lived as vicariously as she could through Aemond’s nightly phone calls and the souvenirs he had sent her, the postcards, the photographs and even a book he had found in a second-hand shop in Oldtown, a special edition of Wuthering Heights with gold lettering on a patterned cover.

She and Aemond exchanged any details they might have missed from their phone calls. She liked watching him talk, the way his lips moved, the bashful way he would avert his eyes from hers when he felt himself going off on a tangent. Equally she liked the way he watched her when it was her turn to speak, the brightness of his eyes, his almost smug expression and the smile lines in his cheeks.

“Oh!” she gasped, feeling her eyes going wide, “and I read Wuthering Heights.” Of course she had. She had devoured it within days of receiving the parcel from him.

Aemond smiled and her heart ignited. Most of the books she read came at his recommendation.

“What did you think?” he asked, trailing the tip of his index finger up and down his glass.

“I mean, you know how I feel about classics, and I suppose it was rather difficult to get into at first, but it was…” she gestured vaguely with her hand while she tried to think, before she settled on “haunting.”

“Haunting,” he echoed. “In a good way or a bad way?”

“In a beautiful way.”

His eyes were on hers, his lips settled into a look of calm content, perhaps even pride. She hoped it was pride. 

“It was so vivid. I loved the longing and the hopelessness,” she said.

Aemond laughed quietly at that, taking another sip of wine and drawing the tip of his tongue over his lips. “I knew you’d like it, you love the doom and gloom.”

If she did, it was because he had taught her to. They liked all the same things, classic fiction, horror movies, cold weather, black coffee, quiet moments during loud parties when their eyes would meet in understanding, or recognition that they were two people whose souls were the same.

She had to bite down her fury with her tongue between her teeth when someone else came along to steal Aemond’s attention. Rickard Thorne, she thought the guy’s name was, one of Aemond’s coursemates. 

Jaya’s tactic for parties was to keep moving. She took Sabby by the hand and nodded at Jace, suggesting they move into the lounge. Alysanne had firmly been lost to Arryk; somehow she had turned a conversation about paralegal internships into flirting and Jaya was rather impressed.

She felt like she was good at this by now, starting conversations with the young and beautiful of the city’s elite, most of whom were students at the university– and spending a lot of these parties by Aemond’s side, she had picked up enough to converse with even the most pretentious of politics students. But it was her birthright to belong in a place like this. She didn’t have the silver hair or the violet eyes, but everyone knew who she was before she could tell them. She could see it in their eyes as she introduced herself. You’re Rhaenyra Targaryen’s daughter.

Each venture into the kitchen came with a stop by the assortment of bottles on the counter, but she mostly stuck with the arbour red. When she couldn’t find any more bottles of that, she and Sabby found a sickly sweet rosé that was easier to drink.

She checked the time at midnight, feeling a pleasant haze fall over her. She could hardly stop giggling at everything, at Sabby’s struggle to pour a drink and ending up with more wine on the counter than in her glass, at the couples in the hallway trying to suffocate each other with their mouths and bodies. She wandered through the house without knowing where she wanted to go, and squinted at the head of brown curls buried into the neck of Loras Tyrell. Shit. Well at least Jace was having some fun now.

She ended up in the dining room at the front of the house. This seemed to be where most of the fun was happening. There was a black leather sofa by the door, where Alysanne was sitting between Arryk and Aegon. They were sharing a bottle of vodka between them and whispering into each other’s ears between swigs.

In the centre of the room was a vintage mahogany table. A small group gathered around it, spectating an apparently gripping game of chess. Sitting over the white pieces was one of the Tully brothers, and over the black pieces was Aemond.

He had the sleeves of his shirt rolled up, leaning with his elbows on the table and swirling a glass of whisky as he considered his next move. A mischievous smirk graced his lips as he glanced up at his opponent, and raised his hand to move a piece. Their audience gasped and muttered amongst themselves in awe.

Aemond’s eyes met hers across the room. His hair had fallen slightly, the edges forming a curtain over his forehead. He smiled into his drink. This was his version of a few too many, challenging people to chess games and breaking out the expensive liquor.

She suddenly felt proud, then embarrassed, and turned back to the sofa.

Aegon was placing a pill on Alysanne’s tongue while Arryk handed her the vodka to wash it down. She winced but managed to swallow it.

Aegon caught Jaya’s eye. “Want one?” he asked, looking at her with his chin tilted down and his overgrown hair falling around his eyes. It looked less charming than Aemond’s, more messy than effortless.

The grin on his face made her feel uneasy. She had always been an observer of these habits, never a participant. She meant to ask what it was he had given Alysanne and the question was on the tip of her tongue—

“Zaldrīzītsos,”

Her head snapped back to Aemond without hesitation. He was turned away from the table a little, a dark, almost furious expression on his face. She wondered why, surely she hadn’t done anything wrong? He beckoned her over with a single finger but she was already walking towards him.

When she was close enough, Aemond wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her onto his lap. She burned where their skin met, especially when his hand came to hold her side, fingertips pressing into her flesh.

“Now,” he muttered into her ear and she shuddered at the sensation of his breath over her neck. “I want your help with something. Tell me you see what I’m seeing.”

She dragged her attention to the board and the pieces upon it. It almost felt like a test, but she had no intentions of disappointing him.

It wasn’t entirely obvious at first, they seemed to be pretty evenly matched, but then she saw it. A discrepancy in Tully’s game. She played through a few moves in her head, just like Aemond had taught her. 

She turned her head back to Aemond with the beginnings of a smile. With his knowing look she knew she had it figured out.

She looked across the board at the Tully boy. “Checkmate in three,” she said.

His eyes widened and looked down frantically. “You’re bluffing,” he said, “you’re having me on, there’s no fucking way–”

“Do the honours for me, would you?” Aemond’s voice whispered in her ear, giving her waist a slight squeeze.

She couldn’t help but grin as she went to move one of Aemond’s pieces.

And suddenly Tully saw it too. “Shit,” he said. “Shit. Shit. Shit!” He tried desperately to counter with his Queen.

Jaya made the second move triumphantly, pitifully met by Tully’s attempt to save the game, but it was already won.

When she reached for the final move, Aemond’s hand wrapped around hers. “I started the game, only fair that I finish it, yes?”

She could hardly find the breath to reply. “Yes,” she uttered, letting Aemond guide her hand into her lap before he moved the final piece.

“Checkmate,” he said coolly, flicking over Tully’s King with his finger.

He would have won either way, but Jaya was happy to have even just a small share in his victory. But then with the game over, she supposed she didn’t have a reason to stay so close to him.

Aemond brought his face before hers, until the tips of their noses barely touched. “Good girl for spotting that,” he murmured.

His praise hit her like electricity. For a moment she thought she was going to lose her balance, bracing herself with a palm on his thigh as he brought both hands to her waist. She was steady. She was stable. 

“How much have you had?” Aemond asked with a smirk.

“Gods, uncle, why do you have to sound so self-righteous?” she huffed, bringing her hands to the silky material of his shirt. She watched her hands glide over his chest, delicately and effortlessly. The top few buttons were undone, baring his neck. She thought about running her finger along it, down to the hollow spot in his collar bone. Or she could trail it along his jaw, over the sight hint of stubble she could see. Then she could let her thumb linger on his lip– Gods she loved his lips and the smile lines around his mouth.

A soft but startling noise brought both of their attention to the sofa. Sabby was here now too, but she was talking to Alysanne– no she was leaning over her, or was she trying to pull her up? Arryk and Aegon were on their feet, in some sort of argument.

Jaya frowned, trying to make sense of what she was seeing. “What are they–”

Aemond pushed her onto her feet by her waist. Now that she wasn’t sitting down she felt dizzy but she clung onto a chair to keep her balance.

Aemond was kneeling beside Alysanne and pulling her hair from her face while she was sprawled out on the sofa. Sabby was shouting at Aegon and Arryk.

Jaya felt more sober with each step she took towards them. She was hit with a boozy, sour smell and realised that the front of Alysanne’s top was drenched with what looked like water, but was trailing from her mouth. She was crying, and when Jaya got close enough, she saw her hands were trembling.

“Get the fuck away from her!” Jace’s voice bellowed from the doorway. He rushed forward and Aemond was by Jaya’s side before Jace could shove him away.

Jaya was frozen, even as Aemond curled his arm around her shoulder.

“She’ll be fine,” Aegon was saying, “she's just had a bad reaction, she can sleep it off.”

Sabby had Alysanne sitting up now. Her sobs were getting less frantic now, but it was hard to see her so clearly distressed.

Jace scowled at Aegon. “What did you give her?”

Jaya felt Aemond’s arm tensing tighter around her.

Aegon smiled. “Don’t worry, kid, wouldn’t dream of giving her anything too strong.”

She saw the way Jace’s jaw tensed at Aegon’s choice of words.

“Seven fucking hells,” Aemond muttered under his breath.

Her brother was on a knife’s edge, his fists clenching by his sides. Aegon seemed unphased at his silent threats.

Jaya pulled herself away from Aemond and went to Alysanne.

“How do you feel?” Sabby kept asking her.

“My head hurts,” Alysanne grumbled, cradling her forehead in her palms.

“Can you stand up?” Jaya suggested.

Alysanne lurched to her feet without warning, stumbling forward but Jaya and Sabby were there to catch her.

“There…” Alysanne groaned, but she was still struggling to find her footing. “I did it.”

“She needs to go home,” Sabby said, bringing Alysanne’s arm around her shoulders.

With one final seething glare to Aegon, then Arryk, then Aemond, Jace turned his anger to Jaya. “Why the fuck did you let that happen?” he hissed.

Her stomach dropped and she could only stare at him with wide eyes and furrowed brows. “What?” she uttered.

“Alysanne is your friend,” he seethed. “You should know better.”

He was right though. She had been the one to suggest Alysanne and Sabby come along. She had let Alysanne get close to Arryk and Aegon. She’d seen Aegon put a pill on her tongue and she hadn’t even questioned it.

Her eyes were starting to sting, like she wanted to cry but she couldn’t quite remember how. She just wished Jace would stop looking at her like that, his glare laced with venom and scolding, like she was a child, like he knew better. Jace always thought he knew better.

Aemond stepped forward to help Sabby carry Alysanne. “I’ll call you a car—”

“No,” Jace snapped, standing in his way. “You lot have done enough already.” He brought one arm around Alysanne and pulled out his phone with his other hand. He muttered something to Sabby and the three of them began to muddle their way to the hallway.

“Oh you’re leaving?” Aegon called after them with a dramatic frown and his hand clutched to his chest.

Jaya could only find herself able to watch and breathe in the stench of her friend’s vomit. The other faces in the room were hungry and curious. They all had their heads close together, whispering and gasping but not loud enough that she could make out anything tangible.

Aemond leaned into her and she instinctively met his gaze. “Are you going too?”

She realised Jace was stopped in the doorway, glaring at her expectantly. 

Then Sabby’s voice called from the front door. Their car was here. They needed to leave now. Alysanne had to get home.

“Jaya can spend the night here, Jace,” Aemond said before she could think of something to say. “I’ll drop her off in the morning.”

Jace’s face fell as he looked at his sister one final time. Jaya gave him a small nod and then he was gone. 

The house was surprisingly quiet once the front door slammed shut.

And of course there was only one person who was going to break the silence.

Aegon began laughing. It wasn’t a sound she liked. It was loud and obnoxious and cold. But the attention was on him at least and before long it was almost as if nothing had happened. Arryk grabbed some paper towels, Aegon was doing lines off the dining table, and Jaya was still standing in the middle of the room, letting the noise of chatter and the bass of a slow song float through her.

Aemond’s hand on her shoulder anchored her back into the room.

“I think you should go to sleep,” he said.

“But it’s early,” she groaned as he guided her towards the kitchen.

She hooked her arms around his elbow as he reached for a glass and filled it with water. 

“It’s nearly one,” he said, handing her the glass. “Come on, we’ll get up early and get you something to eat before you go home. Sound good?”

She nodded as she tried to drink and ended up banging her teeth on the glass. Aemond chuckled softly, it was more like a hum in his throat. She had an awful feeling that he was laughing at her mistake.

He draped her jacket over his spare arm and led her through the hallway, up the winding staircase to the top floor. The house had three in total and because it was only the two of them living there, Aegon and Aemond had their own floors with a bedroom, an ensuite and a study— not that Aegon’s study was ever used for its intended purpose.

She loved Aemond’s bedroom with its dark wood floors, forest green walls, rows of bookshelves and the old record player in the corner. She went into the ensuite to wash the makeup from her face and the wine stains in the corners of her mouth, brushed her teeth with a spare toothbrush and changed into the t-shirt Aemond had pulled from his drawer. 

When she came back into the room Aemond was only in his jeans, his shirt thrown over a chair, leaning by the open window and fiddling with a filter and a packet of tobacco. She was determined not to look at his chest, the lines of his abs, or the trail of silver hair running below the waistband of his jeans.

“Light?” he muttered when he noticed her.

Jaya nodded and took the lighter from the pocket of her jacket. She tried to walk as straight as she could over to where Aemond was. He placed the cigarette between his teeth and leaned into her.

It took her a few tries to spark the light. She huffed at her own incompetence and dug her teeth into her lower lip, but her third attempt proved to be a charm. The flame bathed Aemond’s face with warmth and flickers of shadows over the angles of his face.

She watched, hypnotised by the way his chest rose as he inhaled the smoke, and the way his lips pouted as he turned his head and expelled it towards the window. Even then she could smell the smoke and feel traces of it burning in her nose and throat.

His eyes moved back to her. He smirked at her apparent fascination.

He offered her the cigarette and she frowned. He’d never done that before.

Her hands felt light and a little numb, but she reached for it, holding it between her fingers like he always did. But then she realised she had no idea what she should do next. 

“Take a drag,” Aemond said softly. “But not too much, you'll make yourself sick.”

She brought it to her lips and started to pull the smoke into her mouth. Her eyes moved to his when she had reached the end of his instruction.

“Hold it.” The gentle commanding of his voice put her on edge.

She decided the taste and the sensation of the smoke wasn’t pleasant, but she didn’t dislike it.

“Breathe in…” Aemond said, his chest moving with hers as she inhaled the smoke, “... and out.”

As she exhaled she blew the smoke over Aemond’s face. “Fuck!” she giggled, trying to wave it away, “sorry, I just didn’t think–”

“It’s alright,” Aemond said with a smile as he took the cigarette back from her and brought it to his lips again. “How do you feel?”

She let her head fall towards her shoulder. She felt light and heavy. Happy and sad. Lots of things and nothing specific.

After another exhale of smoke out the window, Aemond took a step into her and leaned down to press a light kiss to her forehead.

Jaya’s chest felt tight. Her heart raced but she stopped herself from reacting. 

She couldn’t remember when Aemond started to make her feel nervous. When they were kids they were inseparable, even though she was closer in age to Daeron and their parents were convinced she and Helaena should be like sisters. She followed him everywhere, asked him questions constantly and insisted they hold hands wherever they went. She adored him. She still did now.

She muttered a quiet “night,” and dragged herself towards the bed, wrapping herself in the heavy duvet and curling into the pillows.

She couldn’t sleep yet. The noise of the party hummed through the house, but what caught her attention was the sound of Aemond’s breath moving between his lips. She could still picture his face perfectly, the pout of his lips and his jaw.

She couldn’t help it. She opened her eyes. He was leaning against the windowsill, tapping the ash into a small tray before taking another few drags. She watched him until he stubbed the embers out and moved his hands down to the buttons on his jeans.

A thrill rippled down her front, down to her abdomen.

Stop it.

She quickly turned onto her other side, pulling the duvet up to her chin. She still didn’t let herself fall asleep. She waited with bated breath.

She followed the gentle thud of his jeans being tossed onto the chair and the sound of his footsteps. He let out a throaty sigh as the mattress dipped behind her.

And then she felt him, the warmth of his body against her back, his arm around her waist, pulling her into him, his breath fluttering against her loose hair.

“I’m sorry if you didn’t have a good night,” he muttered. She felt the hum of his voice between her shoulders.

“No,” she whispered, “it was fine.”

It wasn’t fine. She still wanted to cry. 

Aemond’s hand started to trace circles over her stomach through the t-shirt. This kind of proximity had become a habit between them even after they had outgrown childish affection, lingering touches and delicate kisses. She loved it. He wasn’t this close with anyone else.

But she couldn't stop thinking about Alysanne, the grin on Aegon's mouth as he fed her the pill, or the look of anger on Jace's face when he left.

“I’m sorry if I embarrassed you,” she said.

Aemond froze, his hand paused, splayed across her stomach. It left her with a tight, restless feeling in her belly.

Then he embraced her, tightening his grip, almost squeezing her against him and burying his face into her neck. “Never,” he muttered, his breath hot against her skin. “You could never make me feel like that.”

For a moment his lips pressed against her neck. Aemond pulled away slightly, seemingly having done it by accident. Jaya was still, clinging onto his arm and holding her breath.

Until Aemond leaned in again to place a soft but purposeful kiss to her neck. It felt like she was being smothered, the weight of his body pressing into her side, his arm keeping her tightly against him, while her breath came through her nose and mouth with little huffs. 

He began to trail his kisses up her neck, along her jaw, to her cheek, until she realised what he wanted. She angled her head back, enough for him to press his lips against hers.

He kissed her slowly, letting his lips drag lazily over hers as his hand crept beneath her t-shirt.

She gave a short whine when she felt his palm against her bare skin.

“Shh,” he cooed against her mouth, letting his tongue slip between her lips. He tasted sweet and bitter, like wine and whisky and smoke. He was still gentle though, and Jaya eased herself further into him. 

She wasn’t sure how long they stayed like that, but she must have fallen asleep at some point, no matter how she wished they could have stayed in a blissful mess of warmth, lips, tongue and teeth.

Tags (comment to be added to either)

General taglist: @randomdragonfires @jamespotterismydaddy @theoneeyedprince @tsujifreya @dreamsofoldvalyria

Series taglist: @aemondsbabygirl @persephonerinyes @sirenangelroyal @qyburnsghost @adragonprinceswhore @boundlessfantasy @bouncehousedemons

[celtigxr]

THE PINK DREAD - CH. 21 (Masterlist)

Chapter Summary: King's Land welcomes back the King, Queen, and Princess Helaena, but also the dark haired princes, Jacaerys and Lucerys Velaryon, and their uncle-father, The Rogue Prince. Word Count: 4204 CHAPTER WARNINGS: Implied fatphobia, 😱

Series tags: Aemond x Plus size!OfC, Aegon x Plus size!OfC, Celtigar!ofc, Plot with Smut, mdni 18+, Aemond End Game, Angst, Comedy, The Dragons Don't Dance, slow burn, friends to enemies to lovers, enemies to friends to lovers.

Credits: Lace Banner by Aquazero, pearl divider by Pommecita

The weight of the conversation Rhaenyra had with her father still lingered. And how could it not? The information he had shared was shocking. Her mind whirled with emotions that she did not know she was capable of having towards her father. Awestruck, ashamed, betrayed even, if not for Alicent’s sake.

Her fingers curled into the neckline of her dress as she paced her solar, waiting for Jacaerys to arrive, which would be any moment. How could she converse with her son now, with this on her mind? 

There was a knock on the door and Rhaenyra gave a curt “enter”. Jacaerys strode in, clad in mourning black, looking just as sullen as she was, though veiled through male bravado. 

“You summoned me, mother?”

Rhaenyra smiled with her nod, “Please, sit. There is something I wish to discuss with you.”

Jace dutifully complied, taking a seat in a lounging chair, while his mother took her place across, with only a tea table separating them. He watched her closely as she settled in; how she could not look him in the eye, and how her hands fidgeted with the hems of her billowed sleeves. Jace started to grow worried at what exactly Rhaenyra was gearing up to tell him. 

“Daemon will be taking you and Luke to King’s Landing on the morrow, along with the King, Queen, and Princess Helaena,” she stated flatly and swiftly. 

Jace nodded stiffly, “He told me.” The ball was surely to drop at any moment now. 

“Right, of course,” Rhaenyra sighed to ground herself. “You likely already know what awaits you at King’s Landing. The Royal Conclave your grandsire is having there is a season of… of courtship and alliances.” 

Jace had already understood that, but he was under the impression he would hold no expectations had they decided to attend the event. As her first born son and heir to the crown, Jace had expected that his future wife would be carefully chosen… And judging by the direction this conversation was going, it seemed they had already had someone in mind. 

He nodded again, showing his understanding. “You wish for me to find a bride.” 

“Exactly, yes,” she adjusted herself in her seat to rest at the edge of it. Her hands cradled each other on her lap as she leaned over her legs. “Me and your step father have discussed it at length. There is a girl we have in mind. An alliance with her family would come with great benefits; her dowry is large, she is near your age, and her father’s support should we…should things go awry would be beneficial to us all.” 

Jace’s arms squared, the urge to appease his mother and follow the duty he was destined filled his bones. “I understand, mother. When we arrive at King’s Landing, I shall meet her post haste, mother, I promise you.”

She hummed, “You already have, my son.” At the sight of his knitted brow of confusion, she continued. “It is the Lady Valeana Celtigar.” 

Jace sat there stunned into silence and paralysis. He was caught between respect for his mother and the revulsion that churned in his gut. Rhaenyra was painfully aware of his turmoil, carefully watching the way the muscles in his face slacked and his eyes stirred with the internal conflict of how he wished to react to this. Rhaenyra decided to test the waters. 

“I remember, quite well, that you and Luke–”

Alas, Jace could not hold it in. He allowed his boyish outrage to win, “Valeana Celtigar? You wish to betroth me to her? Of all the noble women in the Seven Kingdoms, mother?” 

Rhaenyra sighed exasperated, “And why is she not suitable for you, Jace? She has as much Valyrian blood as you.”

He scoffed, throwing his head back, “The Celtigars do not even give their children Valyrian names anymore.” 

“Valeana is a Valyrian name,” Rhaenyra huffed at herself for getting frustrated already. “Jacaerys, speak plainly. Why is she not suitable?”

Jace’s lips thinned as his shoulders caved. He was not like Luke, who spoke freely without shame, voicing his opinions without fear of the repercussions. He respected his mother too much to speak so boldly, so crudely, but if she wanted the truth… 

“She isn’t… What I imagined my future wife to look like.” 

Well, there it was. Where did she go wrong in raising a son that came out so typical of a man? Her nod was rigid and slow before she slowly ascended to tower over her son. 

Her hands cupped themselves in front of her chest as she started talking, “Jacaerys Velaryon. I am disappointed in you.”

He shrunk under his mother’s disapproval. 

“I thought you were a man grown, but I see you are still the same immature boy who cares for such superficialities. Appearances do not make a healthy marriage, Jacaerys. It is strength of character, loyalty, communication and mutual understanding.” 

When she strode over to him with a hand raised, he backed into his chair, expecting her to strike him across the head, but instead she just pointed down at him. 

“You will go to King’s Landing, and you will seek out Valeana Celtigar. You will apologize for all the hurt you and your brother caused her and her sisters, and you will try to court her, should she have you.” With a steady sigh, she straightened her spine and laid her hands down upon her stomach to calm her tone. “I do not wish to force you into a marriage that you will find misery in, but I also do not wish for you to make your decision on who your bride shall be based on looks alone. Befriend her, woo her, see if you actually enjoy her company and she yours. You might find you have something in common to bond over. Then make a decision.” 

Jace sunk into the armchair, dejected and petulant, but bound to responsibility. He really did not want to court Valeana Celtigar; he can only imagine the japes Luke would have primed for him. He wouldn’t put it past his brother to sneak a pot-belly pig into his bed, complete with a white wig. After all, the Pink Dread was primarily coconspired between him and Aegon, whilst Jace was only privy to the prank hours before. His brother was devious in that way, and although he has become more subtle about it, Luke was still a cheeky little devil. 

Rhaenyra dismissed her son, of which he was glad for. Once he was gone, she collapsed on an ottoman and laid her head in her hands. She wondered if daughters were easier, but quickly dismissed the idea at the remembrance of her own childhood, and the childish acts of disobedience she put her father through. No, five daughters would be worse than five sons. 

Her mind drifted back to Valeana, and she tried to put her visage in her mind’s eye. Adorable round cheeks, voluminous hair that felt like strands of silk, large green eyes, always looking out for the boy with whom she shared a birth moon with. In another life, they would have been twins. 

And they might as well have been. 

“There is something I need to tell you, my darling, that may come as a shock to you.” 

Rhaenyra straightened in her seat as her father reached out across the table and took a hold of her hand, his face turned away. He could not look upon her as he spoke his mind, of the heavy truth he had to bear on his own for over twenty years. 

“I grieved for your mother, Rhaenyra, for many years after she had passed. I saw her in everything, in everyone. Guilt consumed me, knowing that I caused it–” Rhaenyra tried to protest otherwise, but he held up a head for her to listen. “There was another in the Keep who grieved as much as I, and that was Lysa Lannister, Lord Bartimos’ late wife, and your mother’s most trusted friend. There was a day when we were together, sharing a drink and bonding over our grief. In the end… it consumed us, and we grabbed onto the closest memory of Aemma, which was each other.” 

Every muscle in her body stiffened as a cold grip took hold of her spine. The ducts of her eyes began to redden as tears pearled at the rims. 

“What are you saying, father?” 

“I…I have many regrets, Rhaenyra. One of them is betraying the trust of a good, dear friend of mine, and rewarding the loyalty of my good wife with disloyalty.” A sigh filtered through his nose, then his hand released his cane, allowing it to clatter on the ground. His head hung between his shoulders, so it may shield the King from the look of shame his daughter bestowed upon him. 

“Valeana Celtigar…very well may be my daughter.” 

The sky was alive with screeches, roars, rumbles and claps of thunderous wings as four dragons, one larger after the other, flew over King’s Landing and circled the Dragonpit. The King has returned, and with him he brought the Kingdom’s absent princes, including the Rogue brother. 

Valeana watched from a tower window as the pearlescent white and gold dragon, Arrax, zipped through the sky like lightning. Following suit was the larger Vermax, olive green scales vibrant against the blazing sun. Cutting through the clouds was the ever odd and intimidating Caraxes, with its slender blood red body, small hind legs, and serpentine neck. It was, of course, the fourth dragon that took everyone’s breath away. Dreamfyre practically blended in with the midday cloudless sky. All blue and silver, her slender, albeit large body wove through the spires of King’s Landing with such grace it was if she was the wind itself. The she-dragon flew over the castle, enlisting a chorus of awes and cheers in her wake, and from her position, Valeana could see Helaena atop in her saddle, silver hair flowing in the wind and looking as free and elegant as her mount. 

Valeana felt pitifully envious. There was a deep primal need in her belly every time she saw a dragon fly in the sky. Though she wagered a lot of others with feet planted on the ground felt the same way. 

She almost forgot what lay ahead of her. Almost. Jacaerys and Lucaerys will be arriving soon, along with the King who likely was in his wheelhouse by now with Queen Alicent. Her father will want to greet the King, his brother and grandsons, for the sole purpose of a formal re-introduction to Prince Jacaerys. She would bother to think about what kind of man he grew up to be after he was freed from court not long after she was, but Valeana couldn’t be bothered. She was too preoccupied by the conversation she and Aegon had the evening prior. 

With the new regulations her father set in place, the supper she had planned to attend with Aegon was no longer a private one. Or at least from eyes. Aegon relocated it to a terrace where they could be seen in the open. Her family’s guard, Ser Steffon, would march around the perimeter like a loyal hound. Their conversations, however, were kept in low tones, despite his confidence that no one was close enough to hear them. 

“What were you and Shyla speaking about earlier?” She prodded him. Despite her initial uncaring reaction to it, it did bother her. For some reason.  

Aegon lifted his head, appearing as if he was caught with his hand in the biscuit jar. Then his lips stretched into an impish grin, “Why? Jealous, are we?”

Valeana rolled her eyes, “You two were seen together. If we are to appear as if we are courting, you cannot be seen flirting with my sister. Not to mention, were you not just jumping in elation over her falling out of love with you? Or are you already missing her rabid devotion?”

Aegon leaned back in his chair, smile still unwavering, “I like it when you are jealous, Crab Cake. It makes my stones all tingly.”

Valeana ran her palms over her face in frustration, then promptly put her hands on her lap before anyone noticed that she had grown vexed already with the prince. “Aegon,” she said sweetly, venomously, her curved smile anything but warming. “Answer the bloody question.” 

He gave a soft chuckle, reaching out to run his fingers through a strand of her hair before pushing it over her shoulder. “Relax your supple tits, woman. It was innocent. She wished to apologize for snubbing me and canceling our ‘betrothal’, and then prattled on about how in love she was with my brother. I gave her my blessing, and in turn, she gave me her blessing to pursue you, my second choice.” 

Valeana’s shoulders deflated as she relaxed back into the chair. At least now she truly knew she would not have to deal with her sister, knowing she wasn’t above bringing a knife to her throat when she slept. She shared a bedquarters with her, after all. 

Aegon tilted his head at her, then leaned in to rest his chin on his hand, “Fret not, darling, I am all yours.” When he noticed the serious look upon her face, his smile dropped a fraction, “What’s wrong?”

With a sigh, she replied simply, “My father.” 

There was much to discuss with Aegon regarding their arrangement, but the part about Jace was new and it needed to be brought up. She would have to be reintroduced to Rhaenyra’s son soon, against her will, but with the conditions that were set with her parents, she needed Aegon to know that there will be an obstacle in their plan. 

He was equally appalled about it as she was initially, but for an entirely different reason. There was no love lost between him and his nephews clearly, but adding him as more competition for this game of hearts was absolute bullshit. 

“So you choose to reject him,” Aegon shrugged, scoffing it off once she said that she was given the choice. “End of story.”

“I still must let him court me,” Val moved her food around her plate dispiritedly. “As much as I loathe to… I do not have a single memory of Jace being polite to me, ever, and I do not doubt he has changed.”

“Like me?”

She shot him a look, but failed to keep her smirk, “You’re still a cheeky arse, but more charming than before.”

Aegon hummed happily, “I’ll take it.”

They both took sips and bites out of their dwindling meal before Valeana started up again, this time moving on from Jace to the logistics of what they were doing, and why they were doing it. 

“What is our end plan, Aegon?”

“It is simple,” he shrugged, plucking his goblet from the table. “Eventually, Aemond will be so consumed with jealousy and possessiveness, his pride will turn in a different direction. He will forget about whatever it is he is trying to do presently in pursuit of laying his claim.” 

“I do not know if I should be flattered or not over being compared to objects or land to conquer.” 

He licked his lips after taking a generous gulp, “Mm, you should. It is the highest compliment from a Targaryen.”

Valeana rolled her eyes, “Fine. And when— if that happens, what then?”

This time he hesitated in answering, smacking his lips and leaning back into the dining chair. He wasn’t looking at her, instead he was eyeing the ornate dragon at the base of his goblet, as if trying to siphon courage from the dragon’s very image. 

“I will step away,” his reply came through a painful smile. “I’ll make a show of it, of course. Make it believable for him.”

When he looked up at her, Valeana was staring at her hands on her lap, her lips in a gentle pout and her brow creased in an adorable furrow. 

“And what if it does not work? What if it has the opposite desired effect?” 

Aegon slowly leaned over to her chair, reaching into her lap and taking a hold of one of her hands. He brought her knuckles to his lips, where he placed a lingering kiss upon them, all the while keeping his focus on her face. 

She looked at him, large green marbles flickering between his mouth to the intense violet colour of his eyes. Suddenly feeling like she had too much saliva in her mouth, she swallowed thickly.

“Then I will help you get over him.” 

The rumble in his voice and the heat of his breath washed over her in waves, causing her to pink from her cheeks down to her chest, where her heart beat fluttered. Then his lips parted and he took her pointer finger between his teeth, where she could feel the wet pad of his tongue graze her. 

A primal heat settled at the apex of her thighs. 

Shit. 

Aemond was already irate when he entered the Throne Room to greet his father, mother and sister. He hid it well with a face of stone and stoicism that he was already known for, but he was sure his sister noticed how taut his jaw was with how tightly he clenched his teeth. She gave him a curious stare, and he answered with a swift motion of his eye towards the back of Aegon’s head. 

The previous night Aemond had been shadowing the loggia above the terrace that his brother and Valeana were seated on for their supper. While he could not hear a word they spoke of, he was keenly aware of their faces, the laughter, the hands, the kisses on hands, and the looks shared. 

No, they were not courting. He absolutely refused to believe. It was a sham. A ruse. A ploy to get on his nerves. 

And it was fucking working.  

King Viserys had returned not but a few hours ago, and he was already informed of the events of the past week, namely the Hightower supper, and what that revealed. After greeting his sons and his Hand amicably and reservedly, his eyes settled on the Aemond and Aegon with narrowed eyes. He waved one of his good fingers between the two, “I will be talking to the both of you after. Your mother and I have heard some… interesting things on our way to the Keep.”

Aemond inclined his head in acknowledgement, and Aegon forced an innocent smile, with a curt, “Of course, father.” 

Upon greeting Daeron, his father was notably, irritably, more jovial. He and mother embraced him almost simultaneously, with wrinkled eyes brimming with tears. The Queen caged Daeron’s face as she peppered his cheeks with kisses, and the young prince flushed under the attention. It would have been a touching moment, had their other sons ever received the same amount of affection from their mother and father.

Alicent then moved over to Aegon and Aemond, pressing her lips to their cheeks stiffly, and giving them each her signature chide eye before taking her place next to her husband. It was at this time that others strode through the main doors of the Throne Room with heavy footsteps and guards flanked at their sides. Red and black flags on one side, and aquamarine and white on the other. 

The Rogue Prince swaggered into the Throne Room like he was the King himself and not his brother. His gait was relaxed as his hand rested on the hilt of Dark Sister, and that is where Aemond’s eye relaxed on. The sword of a conqueror. The sword of his dragon’s first rider. By all rights, he should be the one wielding it. 

Daemon’s eyes floated above the Throne, to the arched stained glass window that allowed in sun rays onto the sharp spires of the monstrous seat in a sea of colour. Daemon’s ire did not appear on his face, but his carefully chosen words gave it away in its subtext. 

“I see you have redecorated,” his dark purple eyes glared up at the mosaic set in glass and iron, depicting seven heretic gods where it once showed dragons and conquerors.  

“No one is above the Seven, Prince Daemon,” Alicent spoke smoothly, her face neutral under the unnerving prince’s eye. “Even dragons.” 

Daemon’s chest shook at his silent chortle, and then he turned towards the two men behind him. Aemond’s chin lifted when he made eye contact with Luke, who purposely held onto it before sharing a knowing one with his other bastard brother. 

Viserys decidedly chose to ignore the tense atmosphere, “The Red Keep welcomes back their princes, Prince Daemon. I hope you find yourself comfortable back at your old home.” 

“We shall see, dearest brother. I am not one for green, though mayhaps it will grow on me like moss… or mould,” his comment earned him a snicker from his youngest step son. 

Before anything else was said, the doors to the side corridor opened, and a parade of bodies entered the room, causing a small crowd at the base of the Throne’s dias. Lord Bartimos entered, along with Lady Ursula and Clement behind. The older man smiled broadly upon seeing the princes, and then clapped his hands together. 

“Good to see you again, Prince Daemon, Prince Jacaerys, and Prince Lucerys,” his greeting was followed by a unified bow and curtsy from him, his son and lady wife. There was something about his eagerness that set off Aemond’s suspicions, and when Daemon greeted him with his own version of eagerness – more blasé in comparison – something turned in Aemond’s gut. 

Daemon pulled his hand away from his shared handshake with the lord of Claw Isle, and in turn, Bartimos stepped aside, his chest swelling with pride as he extended his arm to the others that lurked under the threshold of the large door. 

 “Might I introduce you to my youngest son, Arthor,” the boy approached with his hands clasped behind his back and a subtle bow of his head before taking his place to his older brother’s side. 

“And I am sure you remember, my step daughter, the Lady Floris Grafton,” Floris stepped between her parents, tall and poised in her orange gown, her long swan neck accentuated with three strings of a pearl choker. She bowed lowly, making direct eye contact with Jacaerys, who merely gave her a tight lipped smile and a slight bow for a greeting. 

“My youngest, Shyla,” Shyla scurried out of the shadows with a broad smile. Her curtsy is low, but fast and overly eager, causing the curls that frame her face to bounce like a coil spring. Aemond caught Luke’s smirk growing in the dimple of his cheek as he tried to contain a laugh. What an insufferable shit. 

Jace shuffled his feet, his head stiff as he nodded his head towards Shyla, and then his eyes flickered over to the corridor entrance, where a third sister should be lingering. Aemond followed his gaze, and from where he stood he could spot the curve of a gown behind the large oak and wrought iron door. He could almost make her out through the crack between the hinges. Her head was firmly placed against the limestone walls as if she was trying to meld with it and disappear. 

“And of course, my first daughter, Valeana.” 

Jace stiffened his shoulders and kept his arms behind his back as if he was bracing for a blow. The muscles in his face twitched at how much he was trying to keep his face neutral. But the moment Valeana walked out, garbed in a floor length gown of diluted turquoise with white lace and pearls – the colours of house Velaryon – his expression completely slacked. He practically gaped. 

Valeana stepped forward, then curtsied, slow and almost hesitant. When she straightened, she swung her arms in front of her, lacing themselves demurely at her middle. 

“Good morrow, Prince Daemon, Prince Jacaerys, Prince Lucerys,” the corners of her faux smile twitched, as if it pained her to be polite. “It is a pleasure to see you again, after all these years.”

Daemon shared a look with his step son, eyebrows raised suggestively, sly smirk shamelessly displayed. He even gave an audible hum. 

When Jace took a step towards her, Aemond’s entire body went frigid. His eye blazed white hot dragonfire at his nephew’s profile as he bowed his dark-haired head,  took Valeana’s hand and placed a kiss upon her knuckles. 

“The pleasure is all mine, Lady Valeana. You are… a sight for sore eyes.” 

Aemond’s head whipped in the direction of Aegon. His elder brother was just as smoldering in his place as he was. They caught each other’s eye, a silent confirmation over their shared indignation. 

Bartimos practically bounced on his feet as he leaned into his wife’s shoulder, saying loud enough for everyone within two yards to hear. 

“I can hear the Great Sept’s bells ringing already.” 

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO SNEAK PEAK: Valeana took it and they both shook gently, “Lady Valeana Celtigar.”  The mention of her name caused the young girl’s brows to raise and her mouth to gape a bit, “You’re Valeana Celtigar?” The octave of her voice was loud enough for a Septa to sharply bring a bell in their direction. The two girls looked over before hunching down and continuing their whispers.  “Erm, yes. How do you know me?” “Your name is spoken all over the pavilions,” she whispered in haste as she took a glance around to make sure no one was listening. “They say King Viserys’ two eldest sons are fighting over your hand.”

Notes: Next time on Maury, Targcest edition--- Ahem, next couple of chapters is the Maiden's Day ball. Which is where the Aegon Spin Off series will overlap. I haven't started it, but I have notes already. So I'd like to know:

Tag: @queen-of-elves, @keylin1730, @anakilusmos, @weepingfashionwritingplaid, @sugutoad, @desireangel

( if you wish to be tagged for this story, just give me a reply! )

Please do not re post, redistribute or plagiarize my work. The only other place this story is posted on is ao3 under the same username.

[f1tales]

i was enchanted to meet you - cs55

i was enchanted to meet you || prologue

next part

pairing: carlos sainz x singer!ofc

summary: carlos and lennon meet in baku. everything changes after that.

author's note: i'm quite nervous to be posting this because it's the same trope as that's that me espresso. but i actually wrote this waaaaay before and i want to share it! it's part of a series, in my head at least. i haven't come anywhere near finishing but the vision is there in my head. this part is just the introduction to my ofc, hope you like it!!

faceclaim: none

Lennon Sage Abbott was eighteen years old when she released her first album, she named it Fearless. Not because she wasn’t scared of anything; she was. She was scared of many things. Like, telling her best friend she has a massive crush on him; telling her mother that she broke the expensive vase that her grandmother had gifted years ago; saying ‘no’ in general scares the hell out of her. We can go on and on; the list is endless.

She named the album Fearless cause for once in her life, she was saying everything she was afraid to say before. Except maybe about the vase; Lennon doesn’t think she’ll ever come clean to her mother about it. She confessed to her best friend that she thinks he’s better off with her and that she thinks his girlfriend is bad for him; although he will never ever know it’s about him. And if anyone asks, she’ll lie. She tells her mum about the best days of her life; tells her younger self that it’s not a shame to not have found true love at age fifteen and tells her red-headed friend Emma the same. She writes a song for her two best friends; Mason and Declan. She tells them about how proud she is of them; no matter how many setbacks they will face in their careers: because the walls that they put up to hold us back will fall down and the time will come for us to finally win.

She lashes out at her ex-boyfriend, the one she was with from age fifteen to sixteen. The one who promised her “forever & always”, but that never came. Who promised her he was her prince on the white horse (he wasn’t).  

To her parents, who strongly disapproved of Luke Hemmings. Yes, the Luke Hemmings from 5 Seconds of Summer. Lennon thought he was the one. She thought he was the love story she was looking for (he wasn’t). She just didn’t know that at the time.

So yes, for once in her life she feels fearless.

She feels like a new girl- no, a new woman when she comes off her Fearless tour. She’s working on her new album, Luke is long forgotten and for the first time in quite some time she has some time off. Her father had started his new job; his dream job. To work in Formula 1 was something Harry Abbott had dreamed about for as long as Lennon could remember. He wasn’t unhappy as physiotherapist for Chelsea FC, not at all. But Formula 1 is where he hoped to be one day.

So when Toro Rosso approached him for a job, the question was not if he’ll take it but when can he start?

Lennon was proud of him; he was following his dreams. Lennon herself didn’t care much for Formula 1. She’d much rather go and watch one of Mason’s matches; or Declan’s. Her brother Beckett however, was quite the opposite. Couldn’t care less about football and would much rather go watch cars go around in circles for about ninety minutes every Sunday.

However, Lennon is more than happy to accept her father’s invitation to come to a Grand Prix weekend. She hasn’t seen him in ages and would love to see him at work again. When Lennon was a little girl he used to take her to the training grounds in Cobham and just sit in a corner of his office as he worked. The players all loved her; sneaking in treats left, right and centre if they knew she was present. That’s how she met Mason and Declan. They played for Chelsea FC’s Youth Academy. To be honest, the two boys weren’t impressed with Lennon when they first met, but Lennon kept sneaking out of her father’s office to go and annoy the two boys. So much so that one day during the school holidays and Lennon couldn’t go with her father because she was home ill, the two boys couldn’t stop looking for her. Harry had to reassure them she was home with a nose cold but would be back to annoy them soon. Her words, not her father’s.

Anyway, we’re getting a bit sidetracked here.

It’s late April 2019 when Lennon’s life completely changes. When she is finally able to visit her father at his new job. In Baku. She hadn’t really heard of the city before, but she was happy to be there. Sorry, getting sidetracked again.

She watched the race; it was okay. She didn’t understand much of it. No, her life changes later that day. In the evening, to be more precise. She meets him in some nightclub in Baku. 

And everything changes. And nothing would ever be the same from that moment.

next part coming soon.

the divider is by @/enchanthings || original post

[rhinoswriting]

A Life On The Road - Part 4 (A Luke Hemmings FanFic)

Overview: Elizabeth and Calum have been best friends since they were 15/14 respectively. Elizabeth is from and lives in the UK, but her family lived in Sydney for a brief 2 year period which is how the two met.

With 5SOS embarking on their biggest and most ambitious world tour to date, Cal has invited Elizabeth along to work as a photographer/content creator for their social media. This is in the hopes that travelling with them will help Elizabeth achieve her dream of becoming a full-time travel writer.

Elizabeth is acquainted with the rest of 5SOS but doesn’t know them tremendously well. Obviously that changes as they are all forced to be in one another’s company for the duration of the tour. As the tour progresses and new friendships blossom, Elizabeth feels the connection between her and Luke grow more and more.

A/N: Picking up in Paris. There’s drinking and swearing in this one.

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3

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

“That was genuinely one of the best meals I’ve ever had.” Michael announced as we exited the restaurant.

“It was incredible! I’m still so jealous of your main though, Mikey. Like, mine was good but I should have got the same as you.” I replied.

“So where to next? The night is still young and we have no obligations before tomorrow’s soundcheck.” Ashton asked the group.

A bar was obviously the unanimous decision. But I did convince them to walk aimlessly until we found a bar. That way we could see some of the landmarks lit up and I could get some content both for the band insta and to go alongside any Paris articles of mine that got picked up.

“I’m going to have my work cut out topping these,” I told the guys as I reviewed the short series of photos I had just taken of them by The Louvre, “So I think that counts as me done for the night. Time to find the nearest baaarrrr!”

It didn’t take long to find a bar. It also didn’t take long for us to all have a cocktail glass held in each hand. While the meal was excellent, it was quite a posh place, something none of us were exactly used to. This bar felt much more like our kind of place. It was time to really relax and have fun as nothing more than a group of friends.

In terms of music it was a bit hit and miss as to whether or not we knew the song playing. While that stopped us singing, it never stopped us from dancing. Also, not being familiar with a song was an excellent opportunity to get the next round of drinks in.

“Hurry up! I don’t have a good grip on these! Quick! Take your fucking drinks!” I yelled as I returned from the bar doing my very best to carry five glasses.

“Thanks, EP!” Cal shouted back as he took two glasses from me, passing one on to Michael.

“TO EP FOR ADDING MORE FUN, AND RIGHT NOW DRINKS, TO TOUR AND BEING A STEP CLOSER TO ACHEIVING HER DREAMS!” Ashton called as he raised his glass into the air for a toast.

“TO EP!” The four of them shouted as they clinked their glasses together.

“You guys are too much at times,” I laughed, “But thank you very much none the less.”

With that slightly embarrassing moment of attention out the way we got back to dancing and sipping on our drinks. After a few songs Cal excused himself to the smoking area. Not long after he’d gone Michael went up to the bar as it was his turn to buy the round, leaving just me, Luke and Ash dancing in a little triangle of space. That was until Live In The Moment by Portugal. The Man started playing. 

As soon as we recognised the song Luke gave me a knowing look as I exclaimed ‘As if!’ because only hours ago in that random little coffee shop had we bonded over our mutual current obsession with the song. From that point until the song faded into the next Luke and I were solely focussed on one another as we passionately sang the lyrics at each other and let the beat draw our drunk, dancing bodies closer together in the already small space. 

Without even realising it we became only inches apart, loudly singing into each other’s faces with our drink-free hands moving between air punches, waves and resting on each other (his hand on my waist, mine on his shoulder). And then far too soon the song was over.

“That’s officially made my night,” I declared as I took a step back and downed what remained of my drink, “That was the best coincidence ever.”

“I think that just became our song.” Luke smiled down at me while pushing a few curls back out of his face.

“Are you fucks going to take your drinks now? Because I’m 30 seconds away from drinking them.” Michael somewhat playfully asked, pulling the two of us out of our bubble.

It wasn’t long after taking our drinks from Michael that Mr. Brightside came on and the five of us went mad for it on the dancefloor. And it turned out that, just like a multitude of other clubs I’d been to, Mr Brightside was a subtle signal that closing time was fast approaching. After the two songs that followed, the music stopped and the house lights came on.

“Boooo!” We all declared, clearly not ready for the night to be over just yet.

We collected our jackets from the cloakroom as we were ushered out into the cold Parisian night air with the rest of the crowd. Once out on the street we checked the time for the first time in hours. Realising it was 3:05am and nowhere else was likely to still be open we began our walk back to the tour bus.

It may seem strange to say, but drunk walks home at the end of a night out are one of my favourite things in the world. I get such a feeling of togetherness when I’m laughing and slightly staggering down the street with friends. It always makes me feel like I belong. And semi-lost under the streetlights of Paris I had that feeling of belonging wash its warmth over me. I took two large steps to catch up with Cal and looped my arm through his, 

“I so fucking glad I’m here. Thank you so much for being my best friend. And thank you for having bandmates that are so easy to get along with.” I told Cal as I placed my drunk, sleepy head against his arm as I wasn’t quite tall enough to reach his shoulder.

As Cal and I continued our drunk heart-to-heart we absentmindedly followed the other three in what we hoped was the direction of the tour bus. Seeing as we hadn’t been paying much attention to them and their antics, it was a bit of a surprise to hear Ash shout “Smile!” at us. Thankfully we were quick enough to pose. 

The result was a pretty cool photo of us, arms still linked, pulling tongue-out faces while flipping the camera off. I asked Ash to send it to me, edited it a bit and kept it in my Insta drafts for review and posting in the morning. By the time I’d done this, we’d managed to find our way back to the bus. Once we all piled in we promptly collapsed in our bunks for what remained of the night.

*

The next day was actually quite a relaxed one for me by touring standards.

I was woken up by Michael repeatedly prodding my upper arm. Once I stirred and opened one eye to find him there, he let me know that Ashton had gone and done a coffee run and mine was waiting for me in the kitchen area. Begrudgingly I got up, because I knew the caffeine would do me good, and I also really needed painkillers for my head. As I padded into the bus’ kitchen area in my XXL tee I saw that the guys were looking just as rough as I felt and probably looked too.

“Thanks for the coffee, Ash.” I said as I picked up the cup with my name on, “I don’t suppose there’s any painkillers on this bus?”

“Got some on my coffee run. Here you go.” Ash responded handing me the small rectangular box.

“You lifesaver.” I said taking the box and settling down on the small sofa next to Luke who was barely awake.

As everyone was pretty hungover we didn’t talk much. We just sat in a comfortable silence while we waited for the caffeine to kick in. 

The silence was finally broken by Lou getting onto the bus and letting the four guys know it was soundcheck in 30 minutes. This prompted them to go and change out of their joggers and freshen up a bit. As they did so I dug out my laptop, charger and notebook from my bunk in order to set up a temporary desk at the kitchen booth’s table and get some work done.

After two hours I’d managed to finish, proof read and send off my article on Glasgow to ELLE; as well as flesh out two article ideas for Paris. Pleased with what I had achieved in that time, despite my headache only being dulled slightly by the painkillers, I took a break. 

Predictably, after making some instant mug ramen, I ended up on Instagram; which was when I remembered the photo in my drafts from last night. I clicked onto it and saw drunk me had gone a bit too far when altering the brightness and warmth of the photo. Once I had edited them down and was pleased with how it looked, I tapped out the caption “Two of a kind!” with the emoji of the two dancing girls at the end, tagged Cal and hit ‘Post’. Not quite ready to go back to work, I decided to get dressed and head into the venue to see what the guys were up to.

The guys were just finishing up the meet and greet, so I hopped round to the front of the venue and gave some of the roadies a hand with prepping the t-shirts and hoodies into piles by size at the merch booth. In between pile sorting, Lou appeared to let us know the boys were in Dressing Room 4 doing radio interviews over the phone and to avoid that area of the venue until they were done. Not knowing when exactly that would be, I headed back to the bus once the merch had been sorted and video called Drew.

“Work is so shit without you. Your replacement sucks too.” Drew complained.

“Aww I’m sorry, Drew! Have you heard back from the other firm you applied to?”

“No, not yet. But I should hopefully within the next week. I can’t survive much longer with these people. How’re you surviving on the road?”

“Really well actually! Not to rub it in or anything.” I laughed.

As I was divulging into some of the details and anecdotes I heard someone slapping their hands along the length of the bus as they approached the door.

“Oh. It sounds like I’m going to have to go.” I managed to say before the door opened and Luke stepped onto the bus, “Adios. I’ll call you again soon.”

“Oh shit, sorry, I didn’t realise you were on the phone.” Luke apologised as he caught the tail-end of my conversation, “We’re all just chilling in the main dressing room now, so I said I’d come and find you.”

“Let me grab my camera gear and I’ll be right with you.” I told him while shimmying out of the booth at the front of the bus.

After a few wrong turns backstage, which resulted in a game of Marco Polo between Luke and Michael as a way to guide us the right place, we were back into our comfortable evening routine. They got prepped and hyped up and I documented it with my camera. That evening I took each of them down the hall to a really cool, cobalt blue door I’d spotted for some solo shots. Luke, taking the longest to decide on his stage outfit for the night, was the last of the four I photographed.

“That red silk shirt was such a good choice.” I complemented him as I held my eye up to the viewfinder, “It contrasts this cobalt door so well. And the two together really bring out your eyes.”

“He doesn’t need a bigger head than he’s already got!” Cal called playfully down the corridor.

Luke let out his infectious giggle and I seized the opportunity to grab another photo while chuckling myself. It was a great photo. Such a pure moment captured. I almost didn’t want to share it on their social media, but I knew that was a foolish, and not to mention selfish, thought.

Not long after that the guys were called to the stage. I took my place side of stage and ritualistically fist bumped each of them as they took to the stage for another amazing show. I felt I had already got enough content while in Paris, so I chose to just enjoy the performance instead of worrying about shots and footage. It was the first time I had let myself do so on this tour and I had a blast.

“It looked like you were having a good time tonight.” Cal later remarked when we were all back on the bus and on the road to Brussels. 

“Don’t tell Lou, but I sort of let myself take tonight off shooting to enjoy the gig as I already have so much Paris content.” I confessed as I reclined on the sofa in the lounge at the back of the tour bus.

“Your secret is safe with us.” Cal reassured with a wink, before taking the final swig that remained in his beer bottle, “Right you fucks, I’m off to bed. See you in Brussels.”

Not long after, Mike and Ash made their way to their bunks as well. This left just Luke and I chilling in the back lounge. As he was scrolling through Netflix looking for a film to put on, I asked him, 

“Are you not shattered too?”

“Eh,” He shrugged, “A bit, yeah. But I always have trouble sleeping. Plus after our drunk chat the other night I’d like to hang out with you more, and I seem to only really get the chance at night.”

“I’m not going to argue with that.” I responded while draping a blanket over my shoulders as the opening credits to Groundhog Day began. After a pause I continued, “We can hang out during the day you know. Like take a break and grab lunch or something. Hey, why don’t we do the coffee run together tomorrow? That’ll be an opportunity to hang out.”

“I’d like that,” He smiled, and then tugged a little at the blanket, “Don’t go hogging all the blanket.”

I released my grip on the blanket, allowing Luke to drape it over himself as well. The added warmth of his body next to mine made me feel even cosier and it wasn’t long before I nodded off to sleep.

The tour bus abruptly coming to a stop a few hours later managed to rouse me from my slumber. As my eyes fluttered open, the rest of my body registered that I wasn’t in my bunk, or even laying down, and that the warm thing my head was on smelt very good. Once my eyes were open and no longer fuzzy with sleep I realised that I had fallen asleep during the film, as I was still sat on the lounge’s U-shaped sofa. Luke must have fallen asleep at some point during the film too, as the nice smelling thing my head was resting on was his shoulder, and I could feel his head resting gently on top of mine as he snored softly.

“Wake up. Hey, Luke. Wake up, “I prompted as I gently shook his thigh, “I think we’re in Brussels.”

[be-ready-when-i-say-go]

Wanderer: Part 3 (Final)

Luke meets Yelena at a party and he didn’t think he’d fall in love. But what happens when the one he’s falling for doesn’t have any roots? 

Latina!OFC

CW: 18+ Content in this part (Smut). It’s near the end, under the read more. Do not interact if you are underage. 

Part 1 | Part 2

Masterlist

____________________

The thing about progress is that it is slow. To the naked eye, progress is a milestone that explodes out of nowhere. In reality, progress is just slow. No one really sees the steps and creaks that it took until the goal was completed. It is almost invisible if no one is looking for it. If no one cracks down to really see progress, it does not show itself. But to Yelena progress is not invisible, it is just slow, really and painfully slow. Progress is slow and it is hard. Progress looks a lot like the brick building of her therapy office. Progress looks a lot like the hot black leather seat she settles into across from her therapist. Progress smells a lot like the perfume of her therapist mixing in with the herby edge of the palo santo candle that was once burned in the office, but is not burning currently.

Twice a month Yelena settles down, inhaling the earthy edges of the candle, and tries to act like the seat isn’t burning her back and arms. “You’re safe here, you know,” her therapist said to her once. It was two or three months into the sessions. Yelena was still antsy. But her therapist bore dark brown eyes into her skin and still stated that this office was a safe place. What kind of safety could one have when someone was seeing everything about them? It was easier to say that she was safe in that office when Yelena didn’t have to talk about her father or her grief. It was easier to say that she was safe when she was doing easy work. 

Progress, too, asks that hard work is done. So Yelena closes her eyes for a moment, tries to tell herself she is safe in this office, which almost smells like it could be home should it also be filled with the scent of tamales or albondigas, her favorite. But it is not home as desperately as she wanted it to be. As desperately as she needed any other place to be, the therapist office is not home. 

“It’s easier to run,” Yelena confesses, eyes still closed. 

“Why is it easier?”

“Like we haven’t been over this a thousand times,” Yelena laughs. “Because I don’t have to actually do anything about it. I can pretend it doesn’t exist. But it still does.”

“But it still does. Can I ask you about your father now?”

Yelena wants to say no. She wants to run. She can feel her thighs tensing. Her feet are settled in flat against the floor. Her palms pressing into the arms of the seat as if she were going to bolt, but she opens her eyes instead. Yelena stares her therapist in the face. “You’re going to anyway.”

“Well, it’s my job. You told me to be tough. Is that a yes?”

“Yes, it’s a yes,” Yelena replies. 

“I’ll start you off easy. Have you talked to Luke about your father?”

“I have. During the first time we dated.”

“How did that go?”

Yelena shrugs. “Luke didn’t bolt if that’s what you mean.” A smile twitches her lips as she thinks, but I surely did. “He listened. I could tell him things I hadn’t been able to tell anyone else. Until you, of course.”

Her therapist exhales a tuft of laughter as she scratches down some notes, “Until me is a phrase you use a lot.”

“I decided to get help, which I maybe should’ve done earlier.”

“That’s a diversion,” her therapist counters. “You told Luke during the first stint of your relationship. Has your father come up since then? This second time around?”

Yelena flicks her gaze to the side of the room, out of the window. A guy and his dog pass by. Behind him is a girl with a backpack on. An entire life happening behind the glass. “No, not really. I divert. I change the subject.”

“Do you think you have any idea why?”

“Because it’s easier to run.”

“When you say the phrase or hear it, that your dad is dead, what’s your reaction?”

Yelena clenches her fingers around the armrest. Her heart races and she turns his gaze back to her therapist. Be hard and direct with me, she’d stated when they first started sessions. Now it was coming back to her--kama, much like progress, was slow sometimes. But it always comes back. “It makes me angry.”

“Do you think it is just anger? What do you think the anger is telling you?”

It’s a simple question but the second it’s uttered Yelena blinks. Tears swim in her vision. She blinks again. More tears. What was her anger telling her? Could anger tell anyone anything? But the tears, they keep building. Yelena sits and the silence stretches on. But as the quiet builds, so do her thoughts. What was the anger telling her? “That I’m still hurt. That I was just a little girl when he died. That I’d always need him.” Her voice wavers and she pauses to collect herself. “That I feel responsible for this death.”

“How did he die? What do you think you could’ve changed?”

“Fuck,” Yelena whispers, reaching for the box of tissues that had been placed on the table of her left. Of course she’d get asked this question. 

“It’s okay. Let it out. You can take your time.”

Yelena dabs the tissue under her eyes out of habit. “It’s not really my fault. But it feels like it.” Another distraction. If Yelena can get out of confessing this, then she doesn’t have to do the hard work. “And I know. Diversion. After lunch, I wasn’t feeling great. When I went to the nurse, she gave me some water and let me lay down. Sort of got better. I went back to class and about an hour later, I felt awful again. I puked in the hallway on the way to the nurse. They called amá first, but she was half an hour across town. My dad was on a construction site a few minutes away. He was at an intersection and he had the right of way. Some guy was coming in off the highway, not paying attention. And it’s a bit of a hill, once you turn off from the exit. Kid’s coming down the street barreling as my dad’s coming into the intersection and they collided--driver side.”

Yelena inhales, seeing now just how teary her vision is, but somehow the blur makes it easier to talk about. “I know I couldn’t have not gotten sick. But I wanted school lunch that week and my parents were usually adamant about fixing us lunch. But they agreed.”

“How old were you?”

“Fourteen.” 

Yelena can hear her therapist speaking, but she’s not listening for retention. She focuses instead on the swimming vision. She was only fourteen, but if she just took the packed lunch, she wouldn’t be here. It’s useless to blame herself. It doesn’t bring him back. But Yelena doesn’t want to let him go either. Death took everything and it wasn’t fair. But it happened. Death came for everyone. But Yelena can’t let her father go. 

___________

Luke presses the side button to put his phone to sleep as the door creaks open. Yelena steps out, a tissue pressed to her nose. Her cheeks are slightly pink and he knows for a fact she didn’t put blush on this morning as she was bare faced when he picked her up this morning. “Therapy sucks,” she declares to the entire waiting room as she strides over to where Luke is. Her descent into the chair next to him is wild and one of her arms lands against his chest. 

Luke reaches up to take the offending limb into his grasp. “Was it okay? How do you feel?” He knows that today her therapist wanted to talk about her dad. She hadn’t wanted to, but Yelena did do the homework she was assigned anyway. It took bribing with a drive to the beach, but Luke’s just glad she got it done. 

“Heavy,” she returns and then scoots up into the chair to sit properly. “I purposefully didn’t book any appointments post-therapy because I knew I’d feel like I got run over.”

Luke stretches over to kiss her temple. “Do you want food?”

Yelena shakes her head and turns to face Luke. Her face lands into his shoulder. “I just want a nap.”

Luke hums. With Yelena’s car in the shop, things were a little tricky. Luke’s supposed to head back to the studio but seeing Yelena like this lets him know he can’t just drop her off at home or at his house and leave her. “We can nap,” he returns. 

“I thought you had to go back to the studio?”

“Well I feel bad if I drop you off back at your place or at mine and then just leave after you’ve said you feel like you got hit with a truck.”

Yelena wants to stay with Luke. She wants something that reminds her she’s human that’s not her anger or her sadness. “Can I stay with you? I can nap in the studio.”

“It can get loud,” Luke returns. 

Yelena shrugs. “I sleep like the dead.”

Luke knows he shouldn’t snort, but he does, squeezing at her shoulders. He wonders who will give first, Yelena about their noise or the guys about Yelena snoring. It’ll make for an interesting competition of wills. But Luke turns his attention back to Yelena and his chest squeezes. If not for the arms of the chairs dividing them, Yelena would be curled up in his lap.  “You can stay with me. But you have to tell me if it gets too loud for you.”

She nods. “I will.”

“You sure you’re not hungry? We can make a quick stop. I don’t mind.” And truth be told, Luke regrets not ducking out to get food during Yelena’s appointment. But leaving felt wrong. His mind raced with the possibilities--maybe Yelena got a call about one of her younger cousins or maybe she’d get sick. It seemed far fetched, but Luke couldn’t bring himself to leave. Though, he wonders if the inability to leave is also linked to the fact that he knew what today was about. He knew what she had to talk about and wanted to, in his own way, support her as much and as best as he could. Staying around meant that he was supporting her through and through, even in the difficult times. 

“I guess I should eat,” Yelena states. “I want Wendy’s though and a float.”

“Wendy’s and a float coming right up.” Luke stands first and Yelena unfurls herself in order to get up too. The pair are mostly quiet on their journey to the car and even on the way to get lunch. 

Luke can sense it, though Yelena’s not physically running, she’s closed herself off. He imagines it’s not easy having someone pry you open even if you are asking for it. “Do you have plans for dinner tonight?” Luke asks. 

“No,” Yelena returns. A chime sounds off in the gap between Yelena’s answer and her question starting. Luke hears the small tap of her nails over the screen. “My car will be ready tomorrow. But what about dinner?”

“Would you like to just spend the rest of the day and night with me? I’ll cook.”

“Since when do you cook?”

“Yelena, almost a year. A lot’s changed,” Luke returns, risking a small glance her way. She’s facing him, or at least staring directly at him for now. “We’re taking this time slow, I know. But if you spend the night, I can drop you off at the shop in the morning when it first opens and you don’t have to wait for me and all my shit luck.”  It also means he can attempt to get back in, he can keep her from closing him out emotionally. 

“Your luck isn’t shit, Luke.” 

There’s a pause. Luke spies the logo standing high above the roads of the highway and signals for the turn as it comes up. “I’d like to stay the night with you.”

“You’ll have to remind me before we leave the studio to go by your place so you can get whatever you need.”

Yelena gives a small tuft of laughter. “I’ll remind you.”

The line for Wendy's is long, but seems to be moving fast. Luke coasts to a stop behind the red Camry in front of them. “I have stuff for salmon if that’s your jam. I think I can do a grilled chicken situation, but I’m not sure.”

They face each other now and Luke can more clearly see the pink tinge to her eyes from the tears. Gingerly, he reaches out for her hand. “I’m here for you, you know,” Luke offers. 

Yelena nods. “Thank you. It was just a hard session. I realized I’m still angry at myself for a lot of things.” 

There’s more to the sentence. Luke can tell. But he merely nods. He can’t force it out of her. “Want to make it a large float?”

Yelena laughs, her hand squeezing his. “Just a medium this time around.” 

They share the quietness, even as Luke orders for both of them and even as Yelena holds the food in her lap, the two of them find something in the silence that makes it comfortable. Luke understands that while he could wish and want more from Yelena, the only thing that sort of desire was ache. Yelena staying close, and choosing to stay close, is progress.

The studio feels brighter than something Yelena had anticipated. But as she settles down across from Luke and he slides the bag with her spicy nuggets closer to her, she’s kind of glad it’s bright. The kitchen to the studio is bright too and she takes a moment to take it all in. It reminds her that there is something on the other side of adversity. But she can’t shake the thought that she was angry as a way to not let her father go. She hadn’t verbalized that feeling to anyone. She hadn’t known how to until that moment. Would her anger make her father proud? And if not, what would?

 “Is this what VIP treatment is like?” Yelena teases. 

“Something like that,” Luke counters around his fries. 

Voices float up from the hallways. Luke turns, thinking he can tease out the sound of Michael’s laughter. Michael rounds the corner a few moments later. “You got Wendy’s without me,” he huffs, but heads for the coffee machine instead.

“Whoops,” Luke laughs. 

Once Michael gets the grounds poured and the water warming, he turns to face the two of them. Yelena gives a small wave to make up for the bite she happened to still be chewing through as he entered and Michael smiles in return. “We’re still laying drums for Ashton,” Michael states to Luke. 

“I’ve been gone for over two hours,” Luke laughs. It took forty minutes to get Yelena from her shop and then to the therapists’ office. The appointment itself was about 50 minutes long and then another half hour for food and travel back. 

Michael laughs with a small shrug. “It’s the process, man. The process. That and Ashton’s not terribly happy with the fill. We’re getting closer though.”

The pot behind them clicks and eventually slows. Michael fixes his cups and exits the kitchen. Luke and Yelena are almost right behind him after they clean up their trash. As they enter the room, Calum smiles at them, settled onto one end of the couch, bass in hand. Michael’s facing the booth at the controls. The high hisses of Ashton’s symbols and the thump of the bass drum filter into the room. Luke settles Yelena down on the opposite end of the couch. “Don’t snore too loudly,” he teases. 

“No promises. And I better not end up on a track,” she commands. The weight on the couch shifts and Yelena goes to tell Calum he’s okay to stay on the couch should we want, but he’s gone, settled into a desk chair now, giving a tiny smile to show it’s okay. 

“No promises,” Luke returns, kissing her forehead. He settles next to her, one arm resting on her hip. The noise of the room seems to fade slowly as Luke trains his senses on Yelena. He listens for her exhales, and even for her snores. He feels her breath slow. He doesn’t watch Yelena. No, he keeps his gaze straight ahead, smiling a little as Calum pokes at Michael. But he knows the moment Yelena succumbs to her tiredness. He wishes her well as the clutches take her fully under. 

Luke hums the line, mostly trying to find the right timing. He’s settled now into a desk chair, pulled up next to Michael who’s got a click track echoing softly overhead. The line falls apart right in the same place as it has time and time before. Luke laughs, even at his own frustration, and falls back into the seat. “Too many syllables to be in the verse. I think it’s going to work better as the bridge,” he comments. 

“We’re getting closer, I think,” Michael returns. He sings the line trying to speed up like Luke is doing and he almost nails it but the words, too, stumble and bump into each other on his own lips. “Fuck.”

“See!” Luke returns through a laugh. 

“Oh, fuck off,” Michael returns. He scratches his pencil over the lines. “Maybe we take that first word out.”

Luke starts to sign the line again, without the first word, and by the time he gets to the end he’s able to speed up the phrase to keep time with the track and still have his breath. “We’re fucking geninus,” he states. 

“I am. You, well, we’re still deciding.”

Hands land on Luke’s shoulder and he catches the glint of the polish and point. Yelena presses a quick kiss to his cheeks. “La voz de un ángel. Can you point me in the direction of the restrooms?” Yelena asks. Her voice sends a shiver down Luke’s spine at how close her lips are to his ear and how the edges of sleep have made her voice slightly husky. 

“Before you get to the kitchen on the right,” he returns, hands reaching up to capture hers. “Nap okay?”

“Sí. Wouldn’t have gotten up if I didn’t have to pee,” Yelena answers. 

Luke takes just one of her hands and kisses over her knuckles. As Yelena slides out of the studio, Luke calls out over his shoulder, “Don’t fall in!”

“Just for you, I will!”

Michael snorts to Luke’s left. “How are things between you two?”

“Good. We’re both just taking this slow.”

“Oh we know about the slow,” Michael teases. More than once Luke had admitted that while he was glad to be taking it slow with Yelena this time around, he’d been frustrated in other regards. The intimacy wasn’t lacking. It just wasn’t like what it was before. Neither one had dared even hint towards sex in the last four months of them rekindling their relationship and it wasn’t for lack of attraction. It just felt too fast. There were more anxieties now, more things that they were cautious of and could see in each other as well. It made things different. 

Luke’s snort of disbelief echoes. “Alright, I’m never going to talk to you again about my relationship.”

Michael’s cackle bounces from the high ceilings and he shakes his head. “I respect the two of you for taking it slow. But I mean, seriously, the two of you have been through a lot. I just wanted to check in.”

“I appreciate it, Michael. So far, we’re good. I’m okay.” The two clasps each other on the shoulder and turn back to the work at hand. Luke could say more. Like how he felt like he was waiting--for him and for Yelena. He didn’t know what he was waiting for. But his body is filled with anticipation at some moments and he even thinks that he’s waiting for the veil to drop, for the whole thing to crumble. But it’s been solid. He and Yelena were solid and had to believe that or else it would all be pointless. They talked more now than they did before, on the phone as they respectively cooked dinner.  Yelena talked more about her family, what it meant to her to actually move out and move away from them and how it scared her. Luke listened, providing comfort when he felt it appropriate, but definitely never tried to fix her feelings. 

From the window behind them, the sun starts to settle and the natural light they’d been creating around starts to fade. Yelena and Ashton are giggling over a phone when Luke returns from the restroom. He’s glad to see that his friends are settling well with her. Leaning against the door frame, Luke watches Yelena scroll for a moment and then hand the phone back over to Ashton. The soft giggle of a baby starts to cut through the fading sounds of bass. 

“My heart,” Ashton laughs, face lit up bright as he stares down at the phone. 

“She’s three now and a tempest. I adore her,” Yelena returns. 

“We got it, Cal,” Michael says and the rest of the room quiets. “We calling it a wrap for today?”

“I got a hot dinner date I can’t be late for,” Luke pipes in from the door. He catches movement out of the corner of his eye and he flicks his gaze over from Michael to Yelena and Ashton. Yelena grins softly at him. 

“We’ll be brighter in the morning with a good night’s rest,” Ashton agrees. As if that’s all the word they need, the group starts to assemble their things. They grab water bottles and make sure everyone has their phone, wallet, and keys before the door shuts behind Michael. The group starts down the hallway and though Michael was the last one out of the room, he floats to the center of the pack as Luke and Yelena pull up the rear. 

They reach for each other’s hand nearly at the same time and Luke takes the first step to guide them. “You think more about what you want to eat?”

“Salmon is good since you know you have the stuff for it,” Yelena returns. 

“Do you need anything from your place to spend the night? I have a spare toothbrush and you can borrow some of my clothes to sleep in. And well, I may have switched body wash unless you’re using something different now. I guess you might be. But--” The squeeze of Yelena’s hand cuts him off. He stops the ramble to look over to her. 

“You switched body wash?”

“It smelt like you,” Luke admits. 

“I just need to grab a couple things from home,” Yelena answers first to the earlier question. “And that’s adorable about the body wash.”

The trek to Yelena’s place isn’t too bad traffic wise and she’s quick to pack a small bag of toiletries and a change of clothes. When she resurfaces from her bedroom, she finds Luke studying the mirror she had hand crafted from the foyer. It’s pieces welded together with a rose in the middle and though it’s got a more industrial age for the slick pieces of her apartment, it still settles in nicely. Luke spies Yelena in the small hallways watching him. He grins and turns to face her. “Where’d you get that?”

“I know someone.”

“You know everyone,” Luke laughs. “You ready?” 

“Yeah, I’m ready.”

Luke’s unsure when he walks up to his house that he thought this all the way through. His house wasn’t a mess per se, but it was a high possibility that it wasn’t cleaned like he would want before having guests. “I apologize now if it’s a mess,” he states as he unlocks the doors. 

The click of paws lets him know what Petuni heard of his arrival. Yelena’s voice is soft as she responds to Luke’s concern, “It’s not a mess.” 

Petunia pauses for a brief moment at Luke’s feet and then continues on to Yelena. The wag of her tail alerts everyone of her excitement. “Oh, hi, baby,” Yelena coos. Luke closes the door behind them as Yelena kneels to greet Petunia. He watches only for a moment before he continues on to the kitchen. 

It’s strange to say now that the kitchen feels right to be in for Luke. He’d always felt too clumsy to be there. His nerves weren’t helped by the fact that he’d spent his formative years wrapped up in the whirlwind of the band. Five countries in five days, and shows, and albums all took precedence over understanding how not to dry out chicken and knowing how to pan sear salmon. But now he has the time, now he is learning and though it still felt like failing forward, Luke felt more confident in the kitchen. 

He pulls down all the necessary supplies, sets the pan onto the stove and washes his hands. After a few minutes, Yelena joins him at the imagined threshold of his open floor plan. “Need help?” she asks. 

“I’m okay on the cooking front. But I’d like company,” Luke returns and smiles over to her. 

Yelena gives a small laugh. “Company I can do.” She settles into the corner of the kitchen, trying to stay as much out of his way as possible. “I know I was sort of unconscious for most of the afternoon, but the new stuff sounds good.”

Luke chuckles, making sure the bottle he’s reaching for is in fact olive oil to drizzle into the pan. “Thanks.” A small moment of silence settles before Luke turns back to face where she’s settled. “Are you still singing? I know that’s what you wanted to do before.”

Yelena shrugs. “Focusing on my nail career for the moment.”

It’s the way she says it with a glance to the floor. “Do you want to talk about it?” Luke won’t force her, even if it kills him sometimes. He won’t push it. 

Her gaze is soft when it lands back on him. He can almost see the hint of pink that wants to haunt her cheeks and eyes. “I think my father wanted me to sing, or he at least encouraged it. Much like him with the nails too. I’d paint his nails sometimes. I cling to that stuff because it’s all I have left of him. I don’t--” Yelena pauses, taking a deep inhale. “In therapy today, I sort of had the realization that maybe I’m holding to all that stuff because I’m afraid to let go. It’s all I have left of him and I cling so hard to it because giving it up feels like giving him up. Like I’m forgetting him or telling him I don’t care. But I don’t know what else to do to honor him, you know?”

The warming pan, the fish, the oil is all forgotten as Luke watches the tears swimming in Yelena’s eyes. He covers the distance between them in just a few strides and wraps her up in a hug. “I’m here,” Luke whispers into her ear. 

Yelena doesn’t shake. She doesn’t sob. She just clings, her fists filling with the cotton of his t-shirts. The tears are warm as they hit Luke’s skin. The two stay enwrapped for a long moment. Luke’s hand and palm run over her back in a soothing time and she cries, though silent, into his chest. Yelena wants nothing more than to say she’s strong. She wants to say she can handle this all on her own. In reality, it had always been handling her. She’d been swimming in grief for so long she started to call it home. 

In bed, Luke watches Yelena slip into the sheets. The mattress isn’t exceptionally big, but between feels like miles. They’re both giving so much space to the other, there might as well be two different beds. Luke stretches a hand out, just to take hers. She squeezes his hand in return. 

Though Yelena had calmed herself down after the confession, Luke still felt like he had to say something, do something to reassure her. “Can I tell you something?” Luke starts, staring up at the ceiling of his bedroom. 

“Of course.”

Luke turns his head to see her already watching him. “I think you’re braver than you realize.”

“I’m also crazier than I realize.”

Luke shakes his head. “No. I think your dad would be proud of you. And I know you don’t want to disappoint him or feel like you’re failing him. But I don’t think you are. I know this is coming from me. Like probably the last person who’s opinion you care about. But I think you’re doing your dad proud.”

“Thanks, Luke. That means a lot.” She says it in a whisper, but Luke catches every tuft of breath she puts into it. They spend just a moment studying each other. “My-would you be willing to come with me to mi abuela’s birthday party. I don’t want to face my family alone, if I’m being honest. I promised her I'd be there so I don’t want to not go.”

Luke nods, his hair brushing against the cotton of his pillow. “I’d be honored.”

“You’re going to get doted on again. Lots of pinching and piling on your plate,” Yelena warns.

“I’m ready.”

“She might ask you to dance.”

“I’ll have a great teacher before then, right?” Luke asks. Behind that simple question is the harder one. Is Yelena asking Luke because she really wanted him there or is it all a front? Is this the olive branch or the smoke screen?

“I’ll teach you everything I know.”

_________________

Luke stands a step behind Yelena. He’s careful with the beers in hand not to drop them. But his heart is racing. He can’t tell if he’s more worried about himself or Yelena. He’d already sort of been through this once before and he’s not so worried about them approving him. But he wasn’t sure if they’d look at him differently, if they somehow knew what had transpired over the last few months. On top of that too, Luke worries that somebody is going to say something about Yelena leaving. 

Yelena knocks on the door and the aluminum covering the dish crinkles a little with the shifting. As the door’s opening, Luke wants more time to panic. He wants more time to worry. Would he remember the steps that he could only do mediocrely? How many times could someone pile onto his plate before he could decline? 

“Yelena!” 

Luke blinks, the booming voice alerting him to the fact that all his time is actually gone. Luke barely catches when Yelena introduces him. 

“Oh I remember him. Good to see you again, Luke.”

Luke smiles, returning the sentiment but trying desperately to recall the man’s name. He prays he doesn’t embarrass himself too much over the course of the day. Though it is early afternoon, Luke knows that he and Yelena won’t be leaving until nightfall. 

The first hour or so there, thought slightly tense, passes by unscatched. The food’s being set up and Yelena sticks close to her grandmother. They scold each other most of it is in jest, though some of it might be real. Luke can’t always catch exactly what is being said. However, he understands the hands on the hips and the threatening wag of the wooden spoon. 

“Please go bug Luke and sit down. I can do this,” Yelena returns, gently pressing in closer to the pot. “Me has enseñado bien.” 

Luke catches the mention of his name and looks up and into the kitchen. Her uncles are currently laughing around their beers. From the open screen door, Luke catches some of her cousins talking as well. But he stayed inside. He wanted to keep close to her. Luke pushes up from the couch and starts towards the kitchen. 

“What’s this I hear about bugging me?” he asks. 

“Abuela was asking about you, weren’t you?” Yelena returns. 

“Were you now?” Luke questions, turning his attention to the older woman. 

“Sé lo que estáis haciendo,” her grandmother states. 

“Are we doing anything, Luke?” Yelena teases, looking up and sending him a wink. 

Luke shakes his head. “No. We’re not doing a thing. Besides, the birthday girl should never cook.”

“Yelena’s good; she is. But it’s the family favorite,” Yelena’s grandmother says and her words come out softly as she settles off to the side of the counter. Her stool is close enough so she can interject but far enough out of Yelena’s way. 

Luke settles to the left of the stool. “Mind talking me through it?” he asks. “We’ll make sure Yelena’s doing it right.”

“You’re lucky you’re cute.” The sentence is punctuated by a soft pat to his cheek but Yelena’s grandmother dives into the spill. Some of it is in Spanish. She pauses usually at the realization and then translates quickly. When the words escape her, Luke just nods to encourage her to continue any way she can. And at every pivot, when the heat should be reduced, when more stock should be added, when it’s time to remove the heat completely, Yelena’s already on it. 

“What’s the ruling, abuela?” Luke asks as Yelena finishes. 

“Aye, es bueno,” she nods. 

“Had the best teacher,” Yelena laughs. 

Luke thinks maybe the whole evening can go by well. He watches Yelena get the food settled and out for people to make their own plates. He watches the way she laughs and dances every so slightly. And it’s like she’s never even left. From the outside, if he had never known about her leaving, he’d never guess it. 

Yelena rounds her baby cousins up and works to help them all get their plates fixed. The youngest of the cousins begs to be picked up and Yelena obliges without a thought, hitching him up onto her hip. “¡Cuidado! That’s too much. Are you actually going to eat it all?” she asks. 

“Yes!”

There’s a brief exchange, the firm raised brow and the big puppy eyes. “Fine. But you better eat it all,” Yelena commands. 

“Do you need help?” Luke asks, careful of the small children--at least six or seven in total-- at his feet. 

“Oh, I got it,” she returns with a grin. “I can help you fix yours too. Might take me a second but--”

“I think I can handle making a plate. But I just want to make sure you’re okay.”

Yelena smiles gently at Luke. “Oh, this is easy.”

“Yelena, ayuda, por favor.”

The call for help is instantly answered. And Luke keeps out of the way, but close to help should she need it. The moment never comes. Even with the baby on her hip, Yelena gets all of them sorted with their plates and settles them at the kid’s table. Luke watches how she never really seems to be walking. He knows this is where she belongs in some ways. She’s not pretending or hiding. Not that he thought she did normally. But here especially with her baby cousins calling out for her, Luke sees just how much Yelena is happy to be here and how the happiness makes her look ethereal. 

“Aye, we’re going to need a bucket for this one!” Luke’s gaze focuses off Yelena and finds her abuela shuffling into the kitchen with a plate in hand. She waves a hand over her shoulder in a motion for Luke to approach and he does. “Now, listen carefully. I won’t say it twice.” And around her abuela goes, describing what everything is and Luke nods. The plate almost never seems to run out of space though he knows it should’ve by now. 

At the end, she hands over the plate. It sags just a little in Luke’s hands but feels sturdy enough that he doesn’t immediately panic that it’s going to break. She doesn’t linger too long, going to the fridge. Luke understands Yelena almost too perfectly now. “Thank you,” he says. 

“De nada.”

In the semi quiet as they eat, though the music plays softly and the TVs play the latest match, Luke takes residence at the table across from Yelena. She sits to the right of her grandmother but it’s clear the older woman too is preoccupied by the game. The house erupts into groans of disapproval and Luke tries to catch what might’ve caused the sound on the TV. He can see the refs and only assume a call was made they didn’t agree with. 

The distraction of the game doesn’t last long as Luke turns his attention back to Yelena, the way she’s reclined into the wooden chair. Her plate is mostly empty already, but she stays seated. 

“You two gonna stay together this time?”

The question feels much too sharp, cutting through the noise that surrounds them. 

“Abuela.” The word comes out firmly from Yelena. 

“I don’t know what you’re abuela-ing me for. It’s just a question.”

Yelena and Luke lock gazes. There really wasn’t much thought on what was ahead. They were just trying to get through what was in front of them. Luke just wanted the day with Yelena and when a new one came, he wanted that one with her too. Maybe in all the time that had past Luke was scared his own desires would be their undoing again. 

“Oh, it’s never just a question,” Yelena returns, but her gaze never leaves Luke’s. A soft smile graces her face. “I’m happy,” she states. “Whatever that means for the future, I don’t know. But I’m okay with being happy.”

Luke’s chest seizes for a moment. He could see things were getting better, that the two of them were on a much more solid path. But he hadn’t asked Yelena about it. He’d wanted too. The question burned like bile in his throat some nights, but he’d always swallowed it back down. “You’re cute together,” her grandmother notes. It doesn’t feel dismissive, but it feels factual as it leaves her lips. “I want grandbabies this time around. Done right, but I’m no saint.”

“You say that there aren’t babies two feet from us,” Yelena laughs. 

“Quiero nietos, ¿entendido?”

“Loud and clear,” Yelena nods. 

The music picks up even as the sun goes down. Luke knows, especially after the last beer he had, that his feet will be even less coordinated than sober, but he dances when asks. He laughs at his own stumbles and under the light of the back porch, he’s glad only the moon can see him. It doesn’t even seem late, as if time doesn’t work the same in the house, when he actually looks down at his phone. He managed to excuse himself from the dancing to use the bathroom and he steps out of the bathroom he realizes it’s pushing nearly ten. No one else seems bothered. 

The kitchen lights illuminates part of the house and were left on mostly in case people wanted to grab extra food. But sitting on the stool, Luke catches Yelena perched. He crosses the carpeted halls to her. “Hey,” Luke says softly. “You tired?”

Yelena shakes her head, and sets her phone down. “No, taking a break from cleaning duties.”

Luke looks around the kitchen. All food that can’t sit out has been put up. The trash that was overflowing at one point is clear now and it looks like a fresh bag has been placed into the bin as well. The dishes are cleaned and no more sit in the sink. “Want company on your break?” Luke asks. 

Yelena nods, holding out her arms. Luke smiles and steps behind her legs to hug her close. “You wouldn’t have put yourself on cleaning duty to hide away from me?”

“No and yes.”

“No, because?” Luke prompts. 

“Because if I didn’t do it, abuela would.”

“Yes because?”

“Yes because I think I’m realizing things I didn’t before about what I want from us.” 

Luke thinks back to the commands about wanting grandbabies done the right away. He hums, to let her know he’s heard. “Are you scared?”

“No. Relieved I think. I’ll let you know I’m sure.”

Luke pulls back from the embrace a little and holds out his pinky. “Swear?”

Yelena hooks her pinky around his, the neon green of her polish lining the bottom edge of Luke’s peripheral vision. “Pinky swear.”

With fingers still hooked, Luke presses a kiss to her forehead. The opened door lets the music spill inside of the house. Luke thinks he recognizes the tune. But the rhythm isn’t too hard to catch onto. “Before the kitchen closes,” Luke whispers, pulling back to look at Yelena’s face, “may I have one dance?”

“Absolutely,” Yelena grins. 

Luke smiles too as Yelena slots against him. Under the lights of the kitchen, against the dark of night and rest of the house, Luke lets the music filter around them and leads in a slow dance. Yelena presses her cheek to his chest and listens to the sounds of his heart as her feet glide over the tile floors. This--she could get used to this. 

_________________

Luke knows he’s fucked and the irony isn’t lost on him when Yelena looks up from under her lashes to him. He struggles for a good breath, chest panting as her nails trail over his thighs. “Don’t,” Luke huffs. “Don’t look at me like that.”

“Don’t look at you like what?” Yelena asks, small bit of her saliva dripping from her bottom lip. 

“Like you want to devour me.”

She grins around the head of his cock. “What if I want to?” Yelena doesn’t wait for an answer before her lips wrap around him again and Luke drops head into the wall of the bathroom. Around them the bass is rattling the walls of Michael’s house. A party to celebrate the creation of the latest album--small as it was mostly just the guys and their friends. But Michael was not one to offer a party even small and not deliver. Luke struggles just for a moment as Yelena’s tongue runs over the length of him to make sure the bathroom door is in fact locked. Once he confirms it is, he lets himself float again. Yelena hums around him as her hands and head bob. The pace is slow and tortuous, but Luke loves it, loves the way she teases him. 

Six months ago, both of them were much too afraid to touch each other in fear that all they’d become was a former version of themselves. And maybe the fear too was that Luke knew Yelena liked to hide. He didn’t want to give her another shadow, another corner to hide herself in.  But now, Luke’s imagining not just what Yelena is doing to him, but what he wants to do to her. His body is warm. He wants everything Yelena is going to give to him. He wants to give Yelena everything he has in himself. 

Dropping his head on his neck, Luke smiles as he watches Yelena on her knees below him. With his left hand, he gingerly strokes her cheek. It’s enough to make her pause and when she casts her gaze up, Luke takes advantage of the pause. “Come here,” he commands softly. 

Yelena is slow to rise. “Missed me?”

Luke exhales a laugh. “Something like that.”  The distance closes between them little by little. Their noses brush and Yelena laughs just a little before stretching up and capturing his lips in a kiss. Luke can’t help even his own satisfied groan at the feeling of Yelena pressing up against him. Luke pushes up from the wall of the bathroom and walks Yelena over to the counter where the sink resides. She gives easily into the backward direction and once her legs hit the counter, she presses even harder into Luke, kissing back a little harder too. 

Luke pulls back from the kiss first but Yelena’s the first to speak. “You’re pretty, you know.”

“I know because you tell me everyday.”

“And don’t you forget it.”

“Face the mirror,” Luke says. He wants to make it a commands, doesn’t want to make it an offer, but as Yelena kisses his jaw he sighs a little as he speaks. 

“Hmm, do I have to?” she asks. She moves now to kiss over his throat. 

“Please,” Luke huffs out, hands squeezing at her ass underneath the flimsy yellow skirt. 

“Because you asked nicely,” Yelena returns and turns in the tight embrace to face the mirror on the bathroom wall. She presses her hands onto the counter, pushing her ass out against Luke’s hips. 

He waste not a second in flipping the material up and pulling her panties to the side. His fingers tease over her core and she sighs, mouth dropping open just ever so slightly. Her shirt, backless, leaves all of her spine exposed to Luke. So he drops a kiss to her skin. The teasing is getting to Yelena, he can tell as she pushes back even against his fingers. “Ah, impatient, I see,” Luke teases. 

“Please,” Yelena begs. 

“Oh, I can do one better,” Luke whispers into her ear. There’s only a few seconds between the cocky response and the initial pressure and push of his cock inside her. But it almost feels like an eternity to Yelena until the stretch hits her.

Time hangs meaninglessly between them as Luke loses himself in the slickness of Yelena and Yelena succumbs to the stretch and fullness of Luke. They stand in the bathroom, gasping for air as they work in time with each other. As Luke meets her ass with his thrusts, Yelena is pressing back. Their lips ghosts over each other’s as they revel in the ecstasy of the other. Yelena’s sure she’s going to last longer, even though Luke’s gotten warmed up by her mouth. But she can feel the coil tightening in her gut. She hisses just a little when Luke’s thrusts get harder. The speed doesn’t increase, but he drives into her just ever so harder and she knows she’s going to spill over the edge first. 

“Mierda,” she whispers out between her teeth. More swears and curses fall. She reaches for Luke’s hand, the one that at some point cupped her throat and she holds onto his wrist as she feels her release building faster than she anticipated. 

She struggles to keep her eyes open, knowing that Luke loves it when she watches him as she comes. Yelena stares up into his icy blue eyes and she thinks she can almost see it. The way life could look with Luke. “Please,” Yelena whispers. She knows it’s in one part begging for release. But the other part is her also asking him to bring her along for the ride. She doesn’t want to go anywhere if it’s not with Luke. 

“Always, love,” Luke returns, kissing the corner of her mouth for just a moment.

Like all she needed were those words, as if Luke’s answer is actually an affirmative to all the things she didn’t say, Yelena feels herself unravel. When she goes to drop her head out of reflex, Luke’s fingers are digging into her cheek to keep her gaze on his. Yelena watches, though it’s hazy, as Luke’s own face contorts. She knows then too, that he’s almost here, right on the brink. “I can take it, baby. Take what you need from me,” she encourages. 

Luke’s stomach jumps at her words. He knows he’s not going to last long. He’s all too happy to give in to her. Luke watches the way Yelena’s gaze stays steady on him. The way she kisses at the pads of his fingers that just happen to be near her lips. The way her skin has a very faint flush. The summer sun has kissed her skin well, but Luke can always tell when the flush is coming up underneath the brown. He can always see it, because he is always watching. And she watches back. For the first time, he feels seen in a way that he wasn’t sure anyone would see him, not even Yelena before. But he thinks now she does. She’s seen the truth. 

Luke huffs, his orgasm propelling now and he doesn’t fight it. When he feels himself tensing, he does his best to keep his head up so she can see even more of him. He wants Yelena to always observe him. 

Yelena knows when his own release has come and she ever so softly, coos at him, thanking him. Luke kisses Yelena’s shoulder and the reality seemingly reintegrate back into their senses. There’s still the thumping music. There’s the hum of the fan that Yelena turned on to disguise some of their sounds. The lights of the bathroom feel exceptionally bright now. 

In their shuffle to get cleaned up and redressed, Yelena laughs as she helps smooth out Luke’s suit jacket. “What’s so funny?” Luke asks, reaching up to readjust the star shaped pin in her hair like she had it before. 

“Just reminds me of our very first meeting,” she returns. 

“That was a bathroom too, wasn’t it?” 

“Only just a little bit. Public, so I guess we’ve matured since then.” Once the two are straightened out fully, Luke lets Yelena out of the bathroom first. He waits for a minute or so and then steps out back into the party. 

Ashton passes him with a tray in hand. “Dude, I was looking for you for ages. Here.” Ashton takes a cup and holds it out. “Mocktails. It’s a new recipe but they taste great,” he grins and then carries on to the backyard. 

Luke holds the slightly bright bluish-green filled clear cup with barely enough time to nod at Ashton’s comment and then he walks towards the backyard. Yelena’s perched right near the deck’s door and Luke settles in next to her, taking her free hand. She, too, holds a clear up with Ashton’s concoction. “How is it?” Luke asks.

“Tastes like pure sugar,” she answers. “But it fits the theme, so I’ll give him style points.”

“Give me a second,” he states. Luke takes his drink down in only a few gulps and then takes her still 3/4ths full cup. He’ll hold them both and though Yelena did like a sweet drink, Luke knows when she does and does not like something. 

“The thing I don’t need is you having a cavity. Yet again,” Yelena laughs. 

“Which is why I will brush my teeth and floss especially good tonight, my dear,” Luke jokes in return. He presses a kiss to her forehead and tugs ever so gently onto her hand. She squeezes in response. As Luke leads them back to the group, Yelena is right beside him. 

_______________

Yelena feels it squeezing at her chest. When she and Luke are dancing around each other to fix breakfast and get ready for the day, she feels it. When she’s at the grocery store, and buys the treat he likes without telling him she’s going to do it, Yelena feels it. When she’s just laying next to him, Petunia also nestled into her side, she feels it. 

From his lap, she takes his hand splayed over her stomach and plays at his fingers. “Luke?” Yelena starts softly.

“Yes?”

“Can you help me with a song?” 

Luke, having previously slumped against the couch, sits up a little straighter. Yelena moves to sit up too. Petunia is not pleased with the disruptions, but doesn’t move too much off the couch. They face each other and Luke, though he knows he should be making any move to respond, only watches Yelena. She hadn’t mentioned anything remotely music related unless it was about him or the band. Music, though she still danced or hummed when it played,  had strictly fallen into Luke’s realm. 

“I-if you want my help, yeah I’d be happy to help,” Luke answers. “Is everything okay?” he asks, watching her get up from the couch. 

“Yeah,” she answers and then disappears before coming back a few moments later. She holds a tattered composition book in her hand and settles before flipping it open. She turns pages for nearly a minute before she finds the thing she’s looking for. “I don’t know what I’m going to do about singing right now. I still feel like giving it up is like giving up on my dad. So I thought maybe once I got a song down for him I might feel different. I’m a little stuck.”

Luke tilts his head to the side. “You sure you want my help?”

And here, with Luke’s hand hovering out for the notebook, but still not fully extended, Yelena knows that the feeling must be confessed. “I’m sure,” she says in a whisper. “Wanna know why I’m sure?”

“Why?”

“Because I love you. Like I know deep down I do. And I know that because I don’t want to go anywhere that’s not with you. I pinky swore to tell you when I was sure. And I’m sure now. I’m sure that I’m happy to be happy with you. And I’m sure I want your help with this song.”

Luke closes in, hands cupping her cheeks. The kiss is slow and he never wants it to end. Luke never wants to leave this exact moment and he wants all the moments that follow it too. “I love you too, Yelena.”

She pushes back up, into the kiss. It doesn’t feel crushing to admit that all she wants is Luke. It doesn’t feel like everything is going to collapse. The possibilities feel endless and she wants them--even if they don’t work out, or if they do, Yelena knows she wants nothing more than to see each and every opportunity with Luke. 

She breaks this kiss first and Luke goes in for one more, before reaching out for the notebook. “What do you need my help with?” He collects the spare pen off the bottom of the coffee table. 

Yelena lends into his shoulder, cheek pressing into his bicep. She points halfway down the page. “I have a melody-mostly. But verse 2, I can’t get it right.” 

“Sing what you have for me okay?”

Yelena nods, sitting up more. “Okay. But don’t laugh at me. I know it’s cheesy.” 

“I would never laugh. I know you’re trusting me with a lot and something vulnerable.”

“Pinky swear?” Yelena asks. 

Luke hooks his pinky around hers. “Pinky swear.”

[5-seconds-of-asses]

sky > ashton irwin

Title: sky

Pairings: Ashton Irwin x Original Female Character, Calum Hood x Original Female Character

Warnings: Mentions of past suicide attempt, mentions of past self harm, drug use, addiction and withdrawal, depressed and anxious characters, description of rape (not graphic though), description of violence and domestic violence (also not graphic)

Summary: in which esmeralda foster and her group of troubled friends relearn the joys of life by moving across the globe. or in which ashton irwin discovers that he and esme are two halves of one heart - but maybe he has given her just a little too much of himself.

A/N: Hello everyone. This is gonna be my first novel length fanfiction on here. It’s gonna be pretty heavy, but I promise it gets better as the story progresses. If I forgot anything in the warnings, please tell me so I can add it, and if anything bothers you, my inbox is always open! :) The story is mainly about Ashton and Esme, but all the boys have chapters from their own perspective, and so does Luke’s sister, Jane. I love love love 5sos and I’m at a loss for mutuals who also do, so leave me a message if you wanna talk about these guys. Enjooooy and please give me feedback ♥

_____

prologue

“It’s okay. Remember, the sky is crying”

There was a short silence before Ashton could answer through his tears. His breathing was unsteady and his eyes were glassy, but when he finally spoke, his voice was steady.

“Who is it crying about?”

“Us”

***

 A long time ago, when things were just getting started, Esme was struggling. Her best friend had recently gotten the diagnosis of depression and a severe anxiety disorder after trying to kill himself. The whole thing had caused a trauma that sent him into awful panic attacks every time he heard rain or worse, a thunderstorm. Although he seemed to be getting better, Esme saw his pain, and there was nothing she could do to stop it.

The illness was driving them apart. She could feel Ashton floating away from her, slipping through her fingers like sand. And she was scared; not just for their friendship, but for him. Ashton was going to a dark place, and she could neither stop him nor follow him.

But on a stormy day in October, Esme found a way back in, a way back to him. It was early evening, and the clear sky had only just given way to rain, when she got a panicked call from Anne, Ashton’s mother. She couldn’t form a coherent sentence, but the words “Ashton” and “panic attack” were enough for Esme to hang up and rush out into the rain.

The Irwin’s only lived a few houses down, and the moment Esme could see their house, she could see Ashton. He was on the ground, a few feet from the Irwin estate. His hands were on his ears, and although it could have been the rain, she was sure that he was crying.

As she neared the 15-year-old boy, Esme could see how much he was shaking, that he was gasping for breath. Anne and Logan were standing close, calling things out to their son, desperately trying to help him. When Anne’s eyes found Esme, she was begging for her to help.

Esme’s eyes wandered toward the Irwin’s front door, where she could see Harry’s small frame watching the scene. Ashton’s little brother was only 5 years old, but he had noticed that there was something wrong with his brother.

“Anne, Logan”, she called out, “go take Harry inside. He shouldn’t see Ashton like this”

Anne looked at Esme for a very long second, before nodding, seemingly relieved that someone was telling her what to do. Although Anne had always meant well and did her best to look out for her children, she was incredibly overwhelmed, especially since Ashton had gotten so sick. With Logan working fulltime, Anne was alone with the boys a lot, and the couple was often struggling to find the right way to help them.

Ashton’s parents left and Esme took an incredibly deep breath before stepping toward her best friend. She didn’t know what to do at first. If she should touch him, if he could even hear her.

“Ashton”, she finally tried, and after a moment once again, “Ash”

Ashton didn’t react. The rain by now had flattened his curly hair to his forehead, and his shirt was sticking to his upper body. Esme took another step toward him and then decided to sit down.

“Ash, I need you to listen to my voice, okay?” No reaction.

“I know you’re scared. But if you just listen to me instead of the rain, and if you just take deep breaths, I can tell you a story”, for the first time since Esme had arrived, Ashton showed any sign at all that he was aware of her presence. He took his hands from his ears.

Esme’s heart skipped a beat and she scrambled for words, not wanting to fail him. When she started talking, it felt like the rain around them quieted down, and she knew that Ashton was listening, even though he wouldn’t look at her.

“A long time ago, before any humans walked the earth, the sky had a soul and a body, and it occupied the earth. It was gentle and loving, and all other souls that met the sky, however small, were enchanted by it.

For a long time, the sky was happy by itself. But centuries passed and it started feeling lonely. Until it found a companion in the sea, and for a long time they are happy with one another. That is, until both sky and sea decided that the earth should be graced with more life, that more souls should get to enjoy its beauty. And they gave up their places to allow humans to see the world.

And still, even today, they are watching us. They enjoy our happiness and feel our pain, and when it is raining, it means that the sky is crying”

Esme took a deep breath and finally dared to touch Ashton’s hand. And for the first time he looked up. Esme’s heart contracted at the sight of him. His formerly bright, hazel eyes were now glassy, exhausted and he didn’t look as young as 15.

“It’s crying?”, Ashton asked, in a voice so small she could barely hear it. Esme just nodded, smiling softly. “What is it crying about?”

“Well, the sky and the sea, when they gave up their life on earth, they also gave up being together. They did it because they had their own lifetime of happiness, and they knew by letting go, they could give this happiness to others.

And so, when they see that us humans, who they wanted to give their happiness to, are suffering, they start crying. That means right now, the sky is crying about you, Ash”

Ashton’s eyes were still filled with tears when he reached out. He softly touched Esme’s cheek, and suddenly she realized that she had been crying, too.

“Us”, Ashton corrected, “The sky is crying about us, then.”

Esme smiled and nodded. “Us”

[mayve-hems]

fav 5sos era?

Isn’t it obvious

Sounds good feels good

[pagesuponstpages]

through the seasons

ofc: mallory jacobs

warnings: some curse words scattered about, a slight mention of cheating, & a teeny bit of alcohol

word count: +3.2k

synposis: snapshots of calum & mallory through a year, from their fateful meeting to falling in love, deeper than either of them expected.

a/n: so at 1 am on calum’s birthday, I decided to write a fic in celebration for the one and only c-dizzle thomas hood’s 23rd birthday (happy belated birthday cal). also purposely writing in lowercase, it being an artistic choice. also also welp meant to finish and post this on the day of, but this weekend was unusually busy. :( but hope you enjoy.

w i n t e r

the first time they met, it was at a party. to be specific, calum’s birthday party.

mallory was freezing her arse off, while waiting for ashton to buzz her and katie into his apartment building. ash was hosting said party at his place, which was something along the lines of being big enough to have all their friends come over (katie thinks that it might have been better if they rented out a club or something).

“irwin! hurry the bloody hell up!” katie yelled, standing right below the open window of his apartment.

“geez, i might as well not let you in,” he said through the intercom. 

katie rolled her eyes. “yeah, say that to the people that has all of your drinks,” she said, smirking, as if he was standing in front of them. mallory pushed katie to the side, so she could talk into the intercom.

“oi, stop fighting and let us in. it’s bloody cold out and i’d rather not freeze my toes off.” and the door buzzed, notifying them that it was unlocked.

although both mallory and katie hailed from the uk with their blindingly cold winters, they got used to the la weather too quickly. and now, if it even reached in the 30-degree-range, the both of them would gripe and complain to all of their friends’ dismay.

“you didn’t have to do that, he would’ve let us in.” 

mallory looked at her best friend with a raised eyebrow. “yeah, sure but with the both of us having nearly frozen off our fingers and toes.” 

katie shrugged, both walking into the elevator. “it’s all irwin, not me.” 

mallory scoffed, but didn’t push any further.

despite only knowing ashton through katie, mallory guessed that there was this unidentified thing in their friendship that had them both snarky and biting towards each other, which seemed to start when they both moved to la. mallory thinks they need to either have a sit-down chat or fuck with their feelings (either might not end well, to be honest).

once they both got to ashton’s floor, mallory knocked on the door, while katie rambled on about some guy that bumped into her right after she got her usual iced coffee in the morning (don’t ask her why she gets iced coffee in the middle of winter, both mallory and ash have tried and failed).

“look who showed up!” 

mallory grinned at luke who answered the door, while katie just walked right past him.

“thanks,” she said, as luke took two out of the four bags that she was holding, each full of different types of alcohol and soda.

“no problem,” he said, as they walked into ash’s kitchen. “put some of the drinks in the ice bucket and the rest in the fridge.” 

mallory nodded, dividing the various beers, soda cans, and bottle waters into their respective buckets on the floor by the counter.

“jacobs!” 

she turned, to see ash with a wide grin and his arms spread out, about to tackle her in a hug.

“when’s the birthday boy coming?” she said, her speech muffled into ashton’s shoulder.

“soon,” luke said, who was standing by the kitchen counter with an amused expression at her and ash’s exchange.

“is it really that cold outside?” ash asked. 

mallory raised her eyebrows, waiting for the rant that was about to come.

“fuck yeah!” katie yelled from her spot on the couch. “it’s below freezing!” 

mallory had to stifle a laugh, as katie and ashton continued back and forth.

“so do you think that they’ll ever fuck?” luke said, leaning on the counter next to her.

“don’t know. at this point, it looks promising,” she said with a wry look. 

luke chuckled.

there was a buzzing sound, one that was barely heard over ash and katie’s arguing.

“i’ll get it,” he said, standing straight.

“i’ll go too, i don’t want to be a witness to whatever this leads to,” mallory said, directing her hand to the two in front of them. she trailed luke to the door, watching him as he pressed the intercom button.

“whooo is it?”

“it’s us you fucks! let us in; it’s freezing out here,” michael said, his voice cracking through the small speaker by the door. luke and mallory shared a look, both trying not to burst out laughing.

“some people beg to differ the temperature outside,” she said, pressing the button to talk.

“i think it’s pretty obvious. i can’t feel my knees,” michael said. 

luke giggled, then pressed the button to let them in. “alright, but only because we kinda need you to have your legs for the band.” they heard unintelligible voices, followed by the familiar buzz of the door unlocking.

a few moments later, the door knocked, signaling their arrival.

“they’re here!” mallory yelled, swinging the door open. the argument in the living room stopped suddenly, while there were babbles of ‘happy birthday’ along with shouts of greetings as each guest walked into ash’s apartment.

“mal, you’ve met everyone in the band except for the man of the hour,” michael said, directing her attention to the curly-haired, gold-skinned boy standing tall over her head. mallory chuckled, shaking her head at mikey’s words.

“hi, i’m calum,” he said, his dark brown eyes meeting hers.

“mallory. pleasure to meet you.”

s p r i n g

mallory thinks that she spends too much time with calum. or at least, more time than friends usually spend together.

“do you think this goes?” 

mallory was sat on the couch, slouched to the point of her long-sleeve shirt riding up to the middle of her back. calum requested her help in sorting through his wardrobe, figuring out what would stay and what would have to go.

“i think so,” she said, looking up from her phone. he was clad in black slim-cut trousers with a white printed dress shirt on top.

“c’mon mal, this is serious,” he frowned. 

mallory sighed, sitting up on the couch. “but isn’t that ash’s top?” 

calum looked down at the shirt, the red poppies staring back at him. “probably. after touring together for so long, i think our wardrobes started mixing together.”

“do you think he needs it anytime soon?”

calum shrugged, putting his hands into the pockets.

“looks good. keep it,” she said, trying to keep her voice from shaking. mallory wondered why she got herself into this mess, watching calum try on different outfits, matter of fact that all of them looked good on him. he nodded, walking back to his room to change.

“what do you want to eat?” he said.

“don’t know,” she said, raising her voice just enough that he could still hear her.

“you say that all the time.” calum sat on the couch next to her, now wearing grey sweats and a white t-shirt.

“can’t help it. i’m fine with anything.” 

he gave her a look, a dark eyebrow raised. 

“okay fine, maybe not everything,” she frowned.

“i’m ordering chinese,” he said, pulling up the website menu on his phone.

“done with wardrobe cleaning?” 

he shrugged. “we got through most of the things that i wanted you to look at, but i did some the other day by myself.” 

mallory nodded, focusing back on the tv, which was playing an episode of chopped.

“oh! can we get the eggplant dish and the salt and pepper squid?” she asked, suddenly remembering.

“i thought you said you didn’t care?” he said, staring at her with a hint of a smirk.

“shut up,” mallory said, pushing his shoulder.

calum called the restaurant, his voice being the background of the four chefs cooking on the tv. their food arrived about forty minutes later; calum went to the door downstairs, picking up the bags of takeout and tipping the delivery person. mallory told him to tip a little extra because they had to drive about three kilometers from the restaurant along with the rain coming down quick outside.

“for you,” calum said, giving her one plastic bag as he set his on the coffee table. they unpacked and opened their boxes, before digging into their food.

“hey! eat your own food!” mallory exclaimed, swiping away at his hovering chopsticks.

“i thought we were eating the food together?” calum said, his voice raising higher.

“dude, we’re eating next to each other, not sharing food,” she grumbled, turning her back to calum. he reached over her shoulder, snatching a rather big piece of salt and pepper squid and popped it into his mouth before she could react.

“it’s family style, ‘cause we ordered at the same time.” 

mallory huffed, turning back to facing calum and extended the box of fried squid to calum.

“you sound like my uncle,” she said, taking a piece of his kung pao chicken.

“how?” he was happily munching on the sauteed eggplant, to her frustration.

“whenever my family would go out to eat, we would normally order dishes with the intentions of having it family style. but this one time we went to a thai restaurant, where we ordered our own dishes. my uncle practically asked everyone at the table if he could have a bite of their food, and my aunt was so mad at him for doing that. but all he replied was ‘if your food looks good, it’s family style,’” mallory said, shaking her head at the memory.

“did you give him some of your food?” calum asked.

“yeah,” she sighed, “but at least he was considerate enough to offer his food first before taking a bite of mine, unlike somebody i know.” mallory was looking straight at calum, her eyes narrowing.

“hmm, wonder who that could be,” he mused, with a smile creeping onto his face.

she punched him in the shoulder. which she didn’t realize, was that her chopsticks were in the hand that she threw the punch, thus the chopsticks flew in the air, past the other end of the couch.

“oops,” she said, her eyes widening to his now narrowing eyes. “oh look at the time, have to go!” she said, dropping the takeout box in hand to the coffee table and ran to the door.

“you’re not gonna get away with that!” and then calum took off after her, running around his apartment to avoid capture. at one point, duke jumped in the chase, which distracted mallory enough for calum to tackle her to the ground. “gotcha,” he said, his face inches from hers.

she was staring at his eyes, them not breaking eye contact for a few moments. then he leaned in, meeting his lips with hers, before she could even realize it.

s u m m e r

when the weather gets warmer, people usually take out their swimwear and jump into a nearby pool. but calum and mallory were laying on the ground in front of the fan and sharing a bowl of ice cream. duke was content with his own doggie ice cream above their heads.

“here,” calum said, tapping the spoon to mallory’s lip.

“thanks love,” she said, swallowing the cool and creamy flavors in her mouth.

“why can’t we go to the pool?” he said, taking a spoonful for himself.

“coz ash wanted to come too.”

“where is he?” 

mallory sat up, looking down at calum, who was taking another bite of ice cream, before giving her another spoonful. “shouldn’t you know more about your bandmates than me?” 

calum raised an eyebrow, then shrugged. “you did know him before meeting me.”

“that was because of katie.” she laid back down, which duke then took the opportunity to lay his head on her forehead.

“oh right.” calum gave her another spoon, barely avoiding duke from taking a lick. “did they fuck yet?” 

mallory snorted.

after calum’s birthday, the two girls started spending more time with the guys, thus leading to katie and ashton having more tension than she’s ever seen. to make it even worse, katie would complain about ashton to her, when they would drive back to their shared apartment.

“i’m 75% sure that they already are. but no.” 

calum chuckled. “i wouldn’t be surprised if they are, but also that they’re both dealing with different things, before that would even start.” and mallory had to agree.

katie and her previous boyfriend broke up due to him ‘being jealous of her with other guys,’ despite finding out that he’d been cheating on her with multiple girls. ashton also had a rough breakup, the facts not being clear, except for the few tidbits that calum tells her here and there.

“i just hope that they figure it out,” she finally said. calum was silent, not even moving to eat more ice cream. mallory turned her head, to fully see calum. his eyes were closed, but his eyebrows were scrunched with tension. she schooched closer to him, until her chin touched his shoulder. duke got up after mallory moved, and he settled in between them, laying down right by their ankles.

“i can’t tell if you’re asleep or not,” she whispered, reaching up a hand to stroke his cheek. “but by me touching you right now, i’m assuming not.” the fan continued to whirr in the background.

“fuckin’ hell, why are we doing this? we should be in a pool right now.” despite the heat, her hands were cooler than the rest of her body (some phenomenon that she’s always had, ever since she was a child.

“but nooo, we have to wait for ash and probably the other boys.” it felt calming, her cooler hands touching his skin which was nearly blazing in the summer heat.

“we don’t technically have to wait for them,” calum suddenly said, opening one eye to her.

“jesus!” she jumped, dropping her hand back down from his cheek.

“don’t stop, like that,” he mumbled. so mallory raised her hand back, stroking his cheek, with her now slightly less cool hands.

“don’t stop, doing what you’re doing,” she hummed under her breath. calum groaned, instantly recognizing the song she was humming.

“i don’t even know why you’re my girlfriend.” mallory stopped, freezing at his words.

“girlfriend?” he turned his head, his nose barely touching hers.

“guess i did that to myself,” he mumbled. she continued to stare at him, while she heard the faint noise of a car door slamming and voices coming closer.

“so whaddya say, do you wanna be my girl?” his lips spread into a lazy grin, with his eyes crinkling at the corners.

“hmm,” she bemused, leaning closer so their noses were now touching.

“i think yes.”

a u t u m n

as soon as the leaves changed into the lightest shade of red and orange, mallory dragged everyone to the nearest pumpkin patch. which happened to be about an hour drive to a city between thousand oaks and santa clarita.

“are we almost there yet?”

“didn’t you ask that ten minutes ago?” katie said, turning from her seat to ashton who was squeezed in the third row with luke and luke’s girlfriend.

“so?” mallory pushed katie so that she was looking forward at the road ahead of them.

“calm down children, google says we have a couple more minutes until we get there.” katie and mallory’s neighbor graciously let them borrow her minivan for their little road trip, as long as they returned it with a full tank (katie and mallory were gonna make the boys pay for it). due to mallory not fully trusting any of the guys driving the borrowed minivan and katie was no good with bigger cars (when she was practicing for her driver’s test with her mum’s suv, she didn’t make the turn and rammed into a tree. thankfully no one was hurt and the car didn’t have significant damage, but mallory would try to be the only one driving in their friendship).

“we’re not children, we’re grown men,” she heard luke say, with a gruff tone. she snorted.

“yeah, keep telling yourself that, mate.” and all the girls in the car burst out laughing.

“calllum, your girl’s being mean to me,” he whined, tapping on the bassist’s shoulder in front of him.

“lukey, ‘ya brought that one on yourself,” he said, laughing.

“i don’t know how you can survive on one tour bus for months on end, if you lot are like this,” mallory said. “by the way, we’re here.”

once they found a parking spot, everyone hopped out and took off in their own groups.

“guess it’s just you and me.” mallory looked up from her phone, replying to her neighbor’s text about the drive, to calum, clad in his green hoodie and grey beanie.

“how unfortunate,” she said, clicking the key fob twice, to make sure it was locked.

“fine then. i’m gonna find ash and luke then,” he huffed dramatically and stomped towards the entrance of the patch. mallory rolled her eyes, but then quickly stuffed the keys in her pocket and after calum, grabbing his hand.

“alright, alright, calm your tits,” she said, tugging at his hand. “you’re not unfortunate, you’re just alright.” he looked down at her, side-eyeing mallory

“just alright?”

“eh,” she said, shrugging her shoulders. calum scoffed, pulling her closer to him.

“wow, this is the kind of treatment i get from my girl.”

“only the best for the bassist of 5sos,” she quipped. calum laughed, shaking his head.  they walked through the pumpkin patch that was behind the store, with their enclasped hands swinging back and forth.

“see anything worth picking up?” calum said, his eyes sweeping the pumpkins that they walked past.

“don’t know. has to be the right one. like, the one.” every year once autumn would just hit, mallory would pick the perfect pumpkins for carving, plain decoration, and even pumpkin pies that she fell in love with once she moved to the states.

“the one, you say?” calum said, looking at her with an incredulous look.

“yep,” she said, nodding her head. “i need nice round ones for simple decoration and carving, and ripe ones for cooking and stuff.” calum nodded, his eyes still scanning for mallory’s “perfect pumpkins.”

“this one any good?” they both stopped walking as calum picked up a decently size one that was mostly round. mallory still held onto his hand, while studying the pumpkin, from what seemed to be at every angle.

“it seems like a good contender.” he nodded, placing the pumpkin in the little wagon that he had been dragging. mallory tugged at his hand, already moving on to another pumpkin that caught her eye. after a few tugs, he let go, seeing her walk faster to a pumpkin towards the end of this row that they were walking by. she squat in front of it, carefully rolling it to check for any patches or dark-colored bumps. he caught up to her, standing a few feet away with his phone out to capture the moment. calum laughed, seeing her eyes continue to scrutinize at the pumpkin while clicking her tongue in satisfaction.

“what?” she said, looking at him with wide eyes. he shook his head, the smile still spread on his face.

“nothing. just love you.” mallory stood up with the pumpkin in her hands. she stepped towards him, putting the pumpkin in the wagon next to the other one.

she held onto his sweatshirt, tiptoeing to meet his lips.

“i love you too.”

© 2019 pagesuponstpages All Rights Reserved

[lovesosweeet]

KNOW IT ALL x THE BAND CAMINO

part 1

a calum hood songfic

Tillie Beckett isn’t known for sticking around, and maybe that’s why touring had come so naturally to her, even as an amateur when she first began as an opener for 5 Seconds of Summer a few years ago… hopping from city to city, bed to bed, hookup to hookup. She broke hearts and left messes behind. And she didn’t care about it all, too wrapped up in whatever whirlwind she found herself in next.

The habits became religion as she propelled to stardom. Her music — angsty, energetic, unapologetic, and unpolished — took the charts by storm following her self-titled album’s debut. Her words were raw and honest, and they resonated with her audience, with upbeat and electric sounds that even the grouchiest and grumpiest of listeners couldn’t help but nod along to. It was the perfect mix of relatable and catchy, and that’s what made her the perfect opener for 5SOS.

Ashton had found Tillie’s videos on Instagram, where she often teased her emotional and early versions of songs she was writing. Her raspy voice caught his attention quickly, and he became a follower very early on, before she’d gone viral… which, she has done several times now. When 5SOS was prepping their latest tour, he threw Tillie’s name out as his top choice as an opener, and the rest of the band quickly supported it after they watched her cover of their very own, very old song “Lost Boy” and put a fresh spin on it. It was a song that the band themselves had honestly forgotten about that she gave an entirely new life. They were hooked and called her just hours after Ashton’s initial suggestion to offer her the spot.

Her friendship with the Australian quartet was forged in what, at the time, seemed to be an unbreakable bond. She was invited to dinner at Luke’s house to review the plans, the money, and all the other logistics of the tour, but the nitty gritty was long forgotten as the five of them stayed up until the sun rose the next day, just talking, jamming, drinking, and smoking the stars out of the sky.

She and Calum weren’t instant friends, at least, not the way she was with Michael. Tillie and Michael had bonded instantly over being gamers with an affinity for ever changing hair colors. He could also dress in her wardrobe and no one would’ve been able to guess that they weren’t his clothes, that is, if her clothes were big enough to fit the 6-foot-something Australian giant, since she was a mere 5 feet tall.

But, her friendship with Michael isn’t what landed her on the cover of tabloids.

No, the pictures of hers and Calum’s necks covered in matching bruises were what landed on the homepages of gossip websites. The videos of her and Calum whispering in what they thought were private corners of dive bars spread like wildfire amongst their somewhat overlapping fan bases. Them stumbling down the cobblestoned sidewalks of Montreal, hand in hand, for an impromptu “bachelor party” for Michael littered their tagged photos on Instagram for weeks.

It was a pair nobody expected but nobody questioned. It wasn’t predictable but it made sense.

At least, it did to Calum.

part 2

my masterlist! :)

—

A/N: hi i’m actually quite stoked about this one?!?!! sorry to anyone who wanted a self insert i personally feel more comfy in the OC x RP world and that technically won my poll! feels easier to separate as fiction/“characters” :)

[the5sosfanfiction]

what would happen if the world was suddenly in grayscale?

[dykefever]

hiya! 7, 11, and 63 for the ask game :)

7. tell us about the plot of the first fanfic you ever wrote.

i was about to respond to this with my first wolfstar fic however...that is not my first fanfiction. my first foray was on wattpad with a luke hemmings x OFC when i was about 14 and obsessed with 5 seconds of summer! the plot was the girl went to live with her two rockstar brothers for the summer who were...shock gasp! friends with 5sos. she becomes friends with the band. her and luke fall in love. there's drama of some sort that means they break up? she joins her brother's band because she's a really good singer and they've been wanting a female voice! then luke and her meet up at an awards show down the track and hook up and it's a very ambiguous ending. quite bold of me ngl. i think it's still hidden on my account on there.

11. what’s something neat you’ve learned while doing research for something you were writing? also, how much do you worry about doing research in general?

i don't do heaps of research for my writing because it often doesn't need it. i might just google places to get an idea of the city/ where someone might live and such. but! all the information remus gave in here we are, again when he's rambling about tantallon castle was fun. it's apparently the last great castle built in scotland. i read a wikipedia page and everything for that! (and also like five tourist sites. found out you can't access the castle bc cliffs so i had to readjust the scene!)

63. what’s the best insult you’ve read in a fic?

i once read a fic where remus called sirius a vape lord fuck or something along those lines. someone i follow posted that and i went and read the whole fic! it was good!

ask me questions!

[alwaysxlarrie]

✨writing goals for 2022✨

thank you to @princelyharry, @loveislarryislove & @dontworrylouis for the tags !!

each post was done a bit differently, so i’m just gonna kinda make it my own & combine the concepts as best as i can :) (this ended up being much longer than i intended, oops ¯\_(ツ)_/¯)

1. continue to beta fics! - so far i’ve done beta work for @hershelsue, @juliusschmidt, @princelyharry & have helped @2tiedships2, @dryourtearsaway, alex (can’t find her tumblr), aayliah (can’t find her tumblr) & pixie with things like giving feedback & helping come up with ideas & i’ve had a lot of fun. when the pandemic started, i got furloughed from my job & was looking for editing jobs at first, but realized i needed experience (obviously lol) so this will also be helpful on a resume. we love to see it. can’t wait to help you guys & others out on future fics !

2) finish my luke hemmings x OFC fic - i have 7.5 chapters done of the fic (i think i want 10 chapters in total, maybe 15 max. i started using wattpad before ao3, so my ass is used to fics having up to 30 chapters being the standard. i keep feeling like i have to have lots of chapters bc of that, so i have to keep reminding myself that i don’t have to lol) & have started a one shot - almost two years after the fic bc i’m hoping it’ll be less daunting to write & since it’s in the same universe, it’ll be helpful to get feedback, get people excited for the chaptered fic (hopefully) & hopefully that’ll help motivate me to finish the chaptered fic.

3) get better at writing smut / sexual tension - i’m abysmal at writing anything along the lines of either. i think i get too in my head about it & make myself feel awkward ab writing sex scenes / the build up to them, even tho realistically there’s nothing (or SHOULD be nothing) awkward about it. just have to keep practicing & looking for tips / advice / guidance ! (plus my luke fic is supposed to have smut in it so .... gotta figure that out lmao)

4) this kinda goes with 2, but i need to / want to get better at writing outlines. i’m used to just starting a fic & having a general idea(s) for it, but then i’ll have trouble with transitioning from one plot point to another, so. outlining. i’m blaming my severe adult adhd for why i’m so good at writing prompts, but am not able to actually turn the prompts into fics lmao.

5) ok i’m gonna make my last goal be to just write more in general .... after i finish my luke fic & one shot lmao. i love writing & have many thoughts (as anyone who’s talked to me for more than 2 minutes knows), so it only makes sense to start to write more to get those thoughts out. write more prompts & more stories in whatever genre i want :)

gonna use this post to manifest these goals, so fingers crossed that i’m able to complete all of them !! for the people that i tag, i tagged you bc i’m interested in what your goals for this year are / what you want them to be. if you don’t wanna do this or if you have already done this, then ofc youre free to ignore this !

@2tiedships2, @twopoppies, @hershelsue, @dryourtearsaway, @kingsofeverything, @sadaveniren, @jalboyhenthusiast, @jaerie, @zanniscaramouche, @gaycousinlarry & @allwaswell16 :)

[caramelcal]

MY 500 FOLLOWER APRIL CELEBRATION

hELLO 

so if you don’t know, i hit 500 followers on tumblr (tysm my babies, i love you all <3) sO...here we are with a celebration

UPDATE: I WILL SLOWLY BE GETTING THROUGH THESE, I PROCRASTINATED TOO MUCH AND I’M STILL UNINSPIRED BUT THESE WILL COME I PROMISE!!! (are we honestly surprised???????) 

These fics will be for a number of different characters (5sos, marvel, teen wolf, jatp, ginny and georgia too? etc etc) and AUs (i.e royal au, demon au, tattoo artist au, college au etc...) and if you have any ideas do not hesitate to message me!

I LOVE GETTING IDEAS FROM PEOPLE SM YOU DONT UNDERSTANDDD

anyway, i have prompts that are below the keep reading thing so if you’re interested you can have a look at em :))

1. “the worst part of all of this is that i still love you’‘ - Prompt by @screnwriter

Michael Clifford

2. “Stay here tonight.” - Prompt by @ketxnwriting 

Marcus Baker

3. “You scared me!” “I scared you?” “Why are you creeping around in the dark like that?” “What do you mean, creeping? Unlike you, I live here!” - Prompt by @casualwriter 

Bucky Barnes

4.  "I just don't think this person's right for you, you should date someone better, someone who gets you, someone like-" "You?" - Prompt by @palettes-and-prompts

Marcus Baker

5. “Our parents are up there planning or marriage having no idea I already know, and now so do you. So listen here, because I have ground rules if you even want to try and make this work cause otherwise I’ll give you hell.” (Royal AU) , prompt by me, but inspo from @creativepromptsforwriting

Calum Hood

6. “Who are you really, ___.” - Prompt by a pinterest user (that’s where i found it anyway) if yknow who they are please tell me lol

Natasha Romanoff

7. “how do you think this ends?” - Prompt by @prompt-dealer

Peter Parker

8. “Surely no being of hell fears another” “and you surely don’t know how hell works.” - Prompt by @mellifluousoctopus

Calum Hood

9. “ “Can you show me your fangs?”  Prompt by @alloveroliver vamp au ofc.

Derek Hale

10.  “You never learn.” - Prompt by @whumpster-dumpster i’m thinking Gang AU

Michael Clifford

11. “I’m tired of being your secret.” - Prompt from pinterest (if someone can tell me the person that would be fab)

Luke Hemmings

12. “ "They’re cookies." - Prompt adapted by me from @greenestcoat​ (just so that it was speech)

Ashton Irwin

13. “Does this count as breaking and entering?”- Prompt by @floraltohru​

Stiles Stilinski

14. “Listen, I just want to sleep so if you would kindly stop blasting music that’d be great.” - me, i’m thinking new neighbor/roommate au wbu guys?

Marcus Baker

15.  “What did you just say?” - Prompt by @promptlywritingideas

Undecided character (you can request)

16.  "When was the last time you ate anything?" - Prompt by @creativepromptsforwriting

Undecided character (you can request)

17. “I can’t believe I get to spend the rest of my life with you.” - Prompt by @drink-it-write-it

Undecided character (you can request)

18. “ “You’re my boss, not my mum. Why are you so worried about me all of a sudden?” - Prompt from @write-it-motherfuckers

Ashton Irwin 

19. “Why would I ever want to be with you?” - Prompt by @prompt-dealer

Undecided character (you can request)

20. “All I wanted was a happy ending.” - Prompt by @promptedintowriting

Undecided character (you can request)

21. “Don’t give me that look.” - Prompt by @silvereddaye

Marcus Baker 

22. “You told me you were okay. You promised me.” - Prompt by @heartlesslywhumping

Wanda Maximoff 

23. “You’ve been staying out of trouble, I hope?” - Prompt by @serving-inspiration

Undecided character (you can request)

24.  “Killing isn’t supposed to be easy, you know.” - Prompt by @serving-inspiration

Undecided character (you can request)

25. “Humans. So emotional, so needy. I can smell it off you lot.” - Me ;) yw

Calum Hood

26. ““I know you think you can care for yourself, but I’m helping you anyways, so deal with it.” - Prompt by @wholelottaprompts

Undecided character (you can request)

27. “I’m doing this to protect you!” - Prompt by @screnwriter

Undecided character (you can request)

28. “Did you at least think about me or at least regret it when you had her underneath you?” - Variation of @tonaegiris ‘s prompt

Undecided character (you can request)

29. “You said you'd kill me, amongst other things. so you either live up to those empty promises, or you stop making them.'' - Prompt by @screnwriter

Undecided character (you can request)

30. “You- You’re letting me go?” - Me, ;) 

Undecided character (you can request)

Anyway message me about these besties, I wanna talk to yall x 

- Bee <3