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x-bluefire-heart-x · 5 months ago

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You're Drunk

Alrighty this chapter of Dating App pretty much wrote itself! I really enjoyed writing it so I hope you all enjoy reading it. There is a several week timeskip and this is also where the timeline fuckery happens. Pease ignore everything about why Carisi is around so early cause I kinda of forgot that I wanted to rewrite some scenes from the earlier seasons before Carisi is in it, but like...I love Carisi and I have other plans so.....Timey Whimey wibbley wobbley stuff begins.

Also pretty sure this is my longest chapter think it is like 6000 words.

Let me know if there is anything in particular you would like to see in this series. Like an episode of the show with her put in it or just something random. Also let me know if you want to be added to the tag list for this.

Warnings: Drinking, talk of sex, sexual implications, teasing, drunk conversations. I think that is it, if I missed something let me know.

Master List

Prompt List

Chapter List: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 9, 10

Tag list: @pear-1206

“That is the fourth time you have checked your phone in the past two hours,” Lily pouted as she placed drinks on the table, Shannon and Courtney trailing behind her each carrying a cocktail and a shot. The four of you had made plans to go out for drinks the next time your schedules all aligned. Shannon and Courtney desperately wanted all the details on you and Rafael. The last time you able to catch up it hadn’t been the time to discuss such details. You friends were gossips but they thankfully understood that there was a time and place for such conversations, like drinking at a bar.

“I know, I’m sorry,” you quickly shoved your phone back into your pocket. “Rafael had a tough day in court, Liv said the team was taking him out for drinks since we already had these plans.”

“Aw, and you’re worried about him,” Shannon cooed, she was a little further gone than the rest of the group, she was smaller and had a lower tolerance. “When do we get to meet him?”

“Soon, I promise,” you smiled. “I just-”

“Wanna keep all that deliciousness for yourself?” Courtney asked wiggling her eyebrows.

“Did she tell you two about how he got on his knees to take off her shoes?” Lily grinned. The other two both gasped, nearly shouting no as they turned to you expectantly.

“Lily!” you groaned, giggling a little. You were going to tell them. Just after a few more drinks.

“Take your shot and tell us!” Shannon bounced. “Come on.” You all picked up the mystery shot Lily had brought over, you thought it would be best to never know what was in the things she brought. A little like the cocktails Lily made when you all last got drunk together and you ended up downloading the dating app. You shook your head and knocked back the shot coughing a little when the strong burst of alcohol hit your throat.

“Alright, geeze,” you nodded, sipping your cocktail. The other three leaned in close, even Lily who you had told before, there were benefits to working with your best friend. You kept the details limited, not telling them everything but you painted the scene perfectly. You all finished your drinks and ordered another during the time it took for you to fill in your friends on not only your first time but near about everything that happened since.

“Damn girl!” Shannon sighed, pushing her long red hair over a shoulder. “You lucked out with this man. I don’t think my first time ended in spectacular orgasms.”

“I mean, mine did but that was just because I was with a woman for my first time,” Courtney grinned. “And when I finally slept with a man, I was assertive in what pleased me but still wasn’t great.”

“Yeah, it took maybe my third boyfriend before I started being able to orgasm with a man,” Lily agreed.

“Oh,” you tilted your head biting your lip. “I’m never letting him go then. I mean orgasms are great by myself but with Rafi, they’re something else.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Shannon playfully shoved you. “Keep bragging.”

“As if you three can talk,” you wagged your finger at them. “I had to hear all about your sexual exploits. I’m totally bragging about how he made me orgasms several times before he fucked me.”

The four of you burst into a fit of giggles before you all cheered and took another round of shots and moved onto other topics of conversation throughout the night. It had been a few hours since the night started, more rounds of shots had happened and bowls of fries, pizzas and other table snacks had been consumed to at least attempt to soak up some of the drinks. Your phone buzzed against the table, the screen lighting up with a picture of Rafael that you had taken when he wasn’t looking. His contact’s name visible for the world to see ‘Sexy Lawyer’, you hadn’t changed it since he put his number in it.

“Ooh, it’s mister magical fingers!” Courtney oohed as you picked it up.

“Hush,” you waved for your friends to be silent. “Hey babe.”

“…Chica,” Rafael sounded a little confused before he chuckled a little. “Are you still with your friends?”

“Ask him if he has any single friends that are as good in bed as he is,” Shannon tugged on your arm.

“Shh!” Lily whispered. “You’ll make her turn on her librarian voice. It’s scary.”

“I’ll take that as a yes,” Rafael’s amused voice called your attention again.

“Yep, are you? Ooh!” your attention taken again. “Is Liv there? And Amanda? Do they wanna come and join us girls?”

“No invite for me? I see how it is,” Rafael feigned offense.

“We’re having girl talk and a girl’s night,” you waved your hand around. “I’ll make it up to you.”

“Oh Chica,” Rafael’s soothing voice cooed through the phone at you. “You’re drunk, aren’t you?”

“Duh, we’ve been drinking for…a few hours by now,” you rolled your eyes.

“Wait, the whole team can come!” Lily interrupted. “That way you can meet the rest of his friends, we can meet him and his friends. Win-win.”

“Ooh yes!” Shannon agreed, with Courtney nodding beside her. You could hear Rafael chuckling in the background, it was slightly muffled and you could hear other voices, one that sounded a little like Liv.

“Rafi,” you whined, pouting a little when he didn’t respond straight away. “Rafi…are you coming?” You forgot you hadn’t actually asked if he and the team wanted to join you and your friends but after Lily’s suggestion it sounded perfect and all you wanted was to cuddle with Rafael. Your friends sniggered, taking your words in a much different context to what you had meant them to be.

“Now I’m invited, am I?” Rafael’s voice finally answered you. “I don’t know, you didn’t seem keen at first.”

“Rafi, don’t tease,” you continued to pout. “Will you please come and join us? Liv and the team as well?”

“Ask nicely, Chica,” Rafael was enjoying this far too much. He didn’t realise that when you were drunk you had very little filter.

“Oh please, please, Rafi,” you lowered your voice only slightly, your tone slipping into the tone you used when begging Rafael to let you cum. “Please come and join me. I miss you. I need you. To be here. With me, with your arms wrapped around me.”

Your three friends stared at you, mouths open and eyes wide in shock. They had never heard you speak with such a tone before or say such things before, especially in public.

“Baby,” Rafael groaned. “You can not speak to me like that when I am near my friends.”

“But you said to ask nicely,” you pointed out. “I’ll keep doing it unless you say you’re all coming.” There was some commotion on his side of the phone before you could hear him speaking in Spanish.

“Hey, it’s Liv,” Liv’s voice replaced the Spanish, her tone definitely amused.

“Liv!” you cheered perking right up at the sound of her voice. In the several weeks since you had meet her, the two of you had met up for coffee and Liv had been over for dinner a few more times when schedules aligned. During this time the two of you had bonded quickly, and you really enjoyed being around the older woman.

“We’re all heading your way, you’re still at the same bar?” Liv assured you. “And thank you for giving me so much more material for teasing Rafa with.”

“Yep, we haven’t moved except to get more drinks,” you assured her. “And you are most welcome.”

You both ended the call, well, you’re pretty sure Rafael wanted to speak to you more but Liv hung up the phone before he could get it back. You grinned at your friends.

“They’re on their way,” you nodded to the cheers of your friends.

“Oh my, he is even better in person,” Lily murmured causing everyone to turn towards the entrance of the bar just in time to see Rafael and five other people walk in. You perked up, almost bouncing in your seat as you waved your hand to get their attention.

“Rafi, Liv!” you called drawing their attention to your table ignoring the other patrons giving you looks. All that mattered was that Rafael made eye contact with you and sent you that impossibly soft smile of his, as his entire face softened and his whole body seemed to relax. Liv was right beside him and was able to see the complete change in him as he saw you and she laughed lightly at how excited you were to see him as well. Nearly bouncing in your seat as you grinned at him.

“She is adorable,” Amanda whispered.

“Just wait until you see them together,” Liv whispered back. “Cutest bloody couple ever.”

“Does this mean we will get to try her food now?” Finn asked.

“Of course that’s your concern,” Nick rolled his eyes.

“Man, I got my priorities right,” Finn shrugged. “The food Liv and Rafael bring into the office smells divine.”

Rafael moved right to your side, sliding his arm around your waist and pressing a kiss to your temple as you wrapped your arms around his shoulders, almost falling but Rafael kept you on the seat by pressing himself as close to you as possible. Since you and your friends were sitting on stools you were roughly the same height as Rafael which made it easier to snuggle into him and press kisses along his neck before pulling away to make grabby hands at Liv.

“Liv, hi!” you smiled as she came around to your other side to hug you.

“Hey, there, you all been drinking water tonight yeah?” she asked looking over you and your friends.

“Of course,” Courtney was making near heart eyes at Liv and you couldn’t blame her, that woman was gorgeous.

“Guys this is Rafael, and this is Olivia,” you introduced the only two people you could. “Everyone, this is Lily, Courtney and Shannon.” You then turned pointedly to Rafael, who just narrowed his eyes at you in slight confusion. “Rafi, introductions.” You pouted lightly removing your arms from around Liv to wrap them around your man again, trying your best to look up at him from under your lashes.

“Alright, alright Chica,” he chuckled gently stroking your cheek. “This is Nick, Amanda, Carisi and Finn. This is Lily, and her friends.”

You smiled at him pressing a kiss to his cheek before turned to look at the other members of his friend group who were all sitting around the table, Liv next to you closest to Shannon, Nick and Amanda sitting in the two free seats next to Lily, Finn sitting at the other end of the table and Carisi sitting on the free seat next to Courtney. And Rafael was happy standing next to you with his arm wrapped around your waist.

“We need drinks,” Lily said. “Finn, help a girl out.” Finn just shrugged and followed the woman to the bar. You couldn’t help but smile at your bossy friend as she led Finn to the bar smiling up at him.

“Be careful with what Lily brings back,” Courtney warned. “She always buys potent cocktails.”

“But yummy!” Shannon assured.

“I’ll get us some water,” Liv laughed. “I daresay we’re all gonna need them. And maybe some more food.”

“Ooh, yes more food!” you nodded. “I’m definitely hungry again.”

“We’ve had like two pizzas and two bowls of fries and a bowl of wings,” Courtney quickly listed off on her hands. “How are you still hungry?”

“Don’t know but I am,” you pouted. “So…more food?”

“Noted, when you get drunk you get hungry,” Rafael smiled. “I’ll come with you, to help carry the glasses. I’ll be back, love.”

You narrowed your eyes briefly but at the promise of them ordering more food you released your hold on him.

“Come back quickly, please,” you begged. Rafael just chuckled kissing your cheek, checking the table number before following after Liv who immediately started talking about how adorable you were when drunk. You looked back to the table. “It’s so nice to finally meet all of you. Including Finn.”

“Same here,” Carisis smiled.

“Hmm, we had been all curious about the woman who was able to get Barba to smile,” Amanda added. “He only tends to smile when he is about to demolish the defence and that is a completely different smile.”

“Ah, yes I know which smile you are talking about,” you giggled. “I rather like it.” Though the reason for that smile was probably a little different when you saw it, the others were a little confused by the sudden red that coated your cheeks and went down to your throat.

Amanda, Nick and Carisi all shared a look at that information, filing it away like good detectives to tease the Counsellor with later. Although in the first five seconds of seeing you and Rafael interact, they had a large number of things they could tease him about. Including what seemed to be an uncontrollable desire to always be in contact with you, and the never-before-seen softness to his features.

“So, any of you single?” Shannon asked giggly.

“Shannon,” you groaned. “Do try to be a little subtle sweetie.”

“What like you were?” she challenged raising an eyebrow. “Begging Rafael to “come”.”

“Oh, shush, that’s completely different,”

“It’s really not,”

“Is so,”

“Girls,” Lily interrupted returning with Finn who was looking incredibly confused by the current back and forth. “Really?”

The detectives were trying so hard to restrain themselves from laughing but it was a challenge that is for sure. Amanda leaned towards Finn to fill him in, causing him to bark out a laugh before trying but failing to cover it with a cough. Lily and Finn quickly handed out a round of shots and placed two jugs of some cocktail in the middle of the table and passed around glasses.

“Finn, I was just saying it is good to finally meet all of you!” you drew the attention back to the fact that you hadn’t met any of the detectives but Liv yet and tried to subtly inform Shannon and the others that you didn’t need them to make things awkward by hitting on them within five seconds. “I have heard quite a bit about you all, from Rafi.”

“He talks about us?” Nick asked, scoffing lightly. “I bet it’s mostly complaining.”

“Well, a little but mostly not,” you shrugged.

“Seriously?” Carisi needed to be sure he heard you correctly.

“Well, yeah, I doubt he holds back with his complaints at work,” you nodded, causing the others to laugh at how right you are.

“Good to see everyone is getting along,” Liv interrupted, returning with a bottle of water and some glasses, Rafael right behind her with another bottle of water and more glasses. “Definitely a good idea to get two bottles of water.”

“I think everyone may regret their choices in the morning,” Rafael quipped.

“I won’t!” you called making grabby hands at Rafael the moment he was in your sight. He smiled indulgently at you as he moved back to your side, his arm finding its way back around your waist, rolling his eyes a little as you sighed happily as you snuggled into to him.

“Oh, you probably will,” Liv said eying the shots that sat in-front of everyone. “Do I want to know what this is?”

“Nope,” Lily grinned picking hers up. “Now come on everyone, bottoms up.”

You and your friends eagerly picked them up, the detectives and Rafael however eyed it a little suspiciously, even Finn, who hadn’t quite heard what Lily had ordered. You turned your pleading eyes to Rafael, nodding towards the shot. He sighed, deeply, already regretting this decision as he picked up his shot. Grinning in triumph you turned to Liv, giving her the same look. Rafael watched in interest as his best friend tried very hard to ignore you, but he was able to watch as Liv’s eyes kept shifting to you and then away before her face scrunched up and she also reached for the shot glass. She shot Rafael a look, but he only raised an eyebrow.

“Now you know what I mean,” he told her.

“What?” you asked looking between the two.

“Well, who would have thought anyone would be able to get Liv to do anything,” Finn grinned. The rest of the detectives nodding in agreement, stunned over what they had just witnessed. The girls shared a look of confusion but their drunk minds quickly forgot about the odd moment.

“Come on,” Courtney begged, her hand lightly grabbed Carisi’s arm before looking towards Nick and Amanda.

“Alright fine,” Carisi laughed picking up the glass looking to the others pleading with his eyes to join him.

“I will make it an order,” Liv added turning on her Sergeant voice. The other three all resigned themselves to whatever was in the shot glasses as they picked them up.

“Bottoms up!” Shannon, Courtney, Lily and you all cheered, tapping the glasses on the table before throwing them back. The detectives and Rafael hesitated one second before copying them.

“Oh, god what is that?” Carisi asked face screwing up as the alcohol hit his tongue.

“I don’t think I want to know,” Nick coughed, reaching for the water that Liv had poured for everyone.

“Sook,” Lily giggled teasingly.

“Can I have some water?” you whispered to Rafael your hand playing with the tie he was wearing.

“Of course, Carino,” Rafael reached for his glass of water handing it to you with a kiss to your temple not noticing the phone in Amanda’s hand that was angled towards the couple. Liv raised an eyebrow at the blonde who merely shrugged, already sending the image to Liv and to Rafael. She figured the couple didn’t have a lot of candid photos of them. Smiling happily at Rafael, you handed him back the glass turning your attention back to the table.

“What are in the jugs?” Amanda asked a little wearily as she reached for one.

“I ordered those,” Finn assured her.

“Somehow I’m not overly assured by that,” she muttered but poured herself a glass regardless and sniffed at it. “Oh, is this just margheritas?”

“Yeah, they didn’t have a lot of options for jugs,” Finn shrugged.

“Good choice!” Shannon eagerly reached for the other jug to pour herself a glass. “Can I pour one for anyone else?”

Courtney pushed her glass towards Shannon with her fingers nodding as she did. “Obviously, I haven’t got work tomorrow.”

“Lucky,” Lily muttered but poured herself one anyway.

“Lily, do I have work tomorrow?” you asked turning to your best friend your brows furrowed as you tried to remember your schedule. Lily squinted at you, mouth opening a little as she tried to remember as well.

“No, sweetheart you do not,” Rafael answered instead. “You have tomorrow and the following day off to recover from tonight.”

“Aw, he knows her schedule!” Amanda cooed leaning into to Nick.

“Of course I do,” Rafael said drily. “Why would I not?”

“Good point,” Amanda muttered sipping on her drink.

“Ooh! What food did you order?” you asked turning to Liv, one hand leaving the grip it had on Rafael’s suspenders to tug on the end of Liv’s blazer.

“We got more chips and some wings,” Liv informed you grabbing hold of hand and squeezing it gently, finding it difficult to stop the coo that wanted to escape. She found you adorable when she met you the first time, but apparently drunk you put that adorableness to shame.

“Yummy!” you wiggled in excitement at the prospect of food before a frown took over your face as you looked between Rafael and Liv.

“What’s wrong?” Nick caught sight of your frown first.

“Carino?” Rafael quickly turned to you, his free hand coming up to tilt your chin towards him.

“I want to cuddle with you but I don’t want to let go of Liv’s hand,” you whispered, shaking the hand that Liv still had hold of, tightening it in case Liv tried to let go of your hand.

“Darling, how drunk are you right now?” Rafael asked with a fond look, his thumb stroking your pouting lips.

“Hm…a lot drunker than I was when I downloaded the dating app we met on,” you answered honestly. “Like way more, that shot definitely threw me over the edge.”

“I thought so,” he chuckled. “Want some more water?”

“Yes…but that means I have to let go of either you or Liv,” you pondered looking between Liv and him, lips pursed as you tried to make a decision. “Oh, I know, you can help me!” you grinned, ecstatic that you had solved the problem.

“Surely, he won’t, right?” Finn asked. He was slightly regretting joining but at the sometime not, he was getting a lot of material to tease not only Rafael but also Olivia. Plus, your friends weren’t too bad and he had been wanting to meet you.

“I don’t know, Barba seems very different with her,” Carisi answered shrugging his shoulders.

“Very different,” Finn agreed.

“I-,” Rafael was about to say no, but upon looking at you he once again found he could not say no to you. “Alright, fine.”

“No, way,” Nick muttered as Rafael did exactly that.

“I’ve known her for years,” Lily whispered to Nick. “Trust me, she is adorable and once someone gets to know her it is very hard to say no to her. If you were in his place, you would do the same thing.”

“I doubt it,” Nick turned to Lily raising an eyebrow in doubt.

“Oh, you poor deluded man,” Lily flicked his arm. “We’ll see, it even worked on Olivia, who is not dating her. One day you will have that look directed at you and you will eat your own words.”

The waiter came with the food interrupting anyone from being able to comment further on the fact that Rafael Barba, the man who didn’t relent even with victims, relented under a single look. Rafael set the glass down, pouring more into it, as he wanted to get you to drink as much water as possible otherwise tomorrow morning will be horrible for you. Though…he was a little curious how you would be with a hangover.

“Yay, food!” you cheered letting go of both Liv and Rafael.

“Thought you didn’t want to let go of us?” Liv asked waving her now free hand. Your eyes narrowed as you watched her hand, sure that you were meant to be doing something with it.

“Don’t confuse my poor Chica,” Rafael scolded. “Her poor brain probably can’t handle too much at once.”

“I must have missed the part where my boyfriend suddenly became a comedian,” you muttered crossing your arms. “Stay at your day job.”

“Now see, I was waiting for this,” Finn grinned folding his arms.

The rest of the table who were watching this like it was their dinner entertainment, tried not to nod in agreement with Finn. They dished out the food onto the plates that were placed on the table along with the food. Those who were nearly done with their margherita’s pouring themselves another glass. The detectives hadn’t had too much to drink before they joined you and your friends, so they still were no were near the level you four where at so they were able to hold in their amusement. Your friends however, were getting even further along where unable to hide theirs, the giggling muffled a little by their hands.

“For my girlfriend to insult me?”

“For Rafi to be mean?”

The two of you asked at the same time turning your eyes onto Finn who seemed a little shocked by the response.

“Creepy,” Shannon whispered.

“Extremely,” Carisi agreed. “They’ve only been going out what like two or three months? And they’re already in sync like that?”

“Actually, it’s closer to four months,” you shot at them before going back to the food that Rafael had put on a plate in-front of you. “Being precise with timelines is important, as a detective you should know that.”

“Oh, I see it now,” Amanda said around a mouthful of chicken wings.

“We all see it,” Nick agreed. Pouring another glass of the margherita, noticing that the two jugs were getting empty fast. He glanced at his watch, a little surprised by the amount of time that had passed.

“What do they see?” you leaned towards Liv confused.

“Why you and Rafi get along so well,” Liv whispered back.

“Oh, you mean apart from the fact that the man is gorgeous, charming, sarcastic and incredibly intelligent?” you tilted your head to side. “Oh, and good in bed.” There was a round of near choking around the table as they heard your comment, being drunk you thought you were whispering but you in fact were not.

“Alright, you are definitely cut off,” Rafael pushed the glass of the cocktail away from you. “Eat some more food.”

“Don’t be pushy,” you whined. “And give me my margherita back.”

“Eat some more food and drink some more water and then I will,” he commanded pushing your plate towards you before picking up his own margherita. You leaned towards him wrapping your arms around his neck so your mouth was right next to his ear.

“Or, give me back my margherita and when we go home, I’ll get on my knees and suck your cock the minute we get through the door,” you whispered seductively. “And then, I’ll strip naked for you, put on your vest and ride you.” You moved away a little to allow him to turn his head to look at you.

You felt Rafael’s hand on your waist tighten and you had the pleasure of seeing the red creep up his neck as his eyes started to burn. He swallowed, the knuckles on his other hand turned white as he gripped his drink. He was very grateful that you still had enough thought to whisper that in his ear rather than saying it loud enough for the rest of the table to hear.

“Chica,” he warned eyes taking in your cheeky grin. “That’s out of line.”

“Hm, we’re not in a court of law my dear,” you giggled. “So, counsellor, do you accept the terms?”

“No,” Rafael stated, smirking as your mouth dropped open in surprise.

“Really?” you were shocked. “But…I want my margherita.”

“Then drink some water and eat,” Rafael raised his eyebrow at the water he pushed towards you. “And you will.”

“Fine,” you huffed pulling your arms from his neck. “Then I won’t suck your dick.”

“…please tell me I wasn’t the only one who heard that?” Finn muttered.

“We all heard it,” Liv muttered eyes wide and looking away.

“You are naughty!” Shannon giggled leaning as far as she could to swat at your arm. “Is that what you whispered to him?”

You nodded holding the glass of water eyeing it suspiciously, cheeks puffed out as you sulked. Olivia lifted her drink out of the way of Shannon’s flailing limb, trying very hard to restrain herself as she watched the marid of expressions that passed over Rafael’s face. Shock, horror and that last one was a little unclear, but oddly enough she could still make out the fondness that he has for you in his eyes as he watched you giggle at your friend but still sulk over not getting your margherita.

“This has got to be one of the most entertaining nights I’ve had in the longest of times,” Amanda giggled. “And Barba the look on your face was priceless.”

“I hate all of you,” he answered, drowning the last of his margherita before grabbing your glass and drinking that as well.

“Hey!” you squeaked. “That’s mine.”

“You hadn’t finished your water or your food,” he groused.

“You’re not getting sex,” you glared at him.

“We’ll see,” he smirked at you, slowly licking his lips, your lips parted as you felt warmth slowly build, you had to squeeze you legs together as your eyes glazed over.

“Is he?” Nick asked, not even wanting to finish that sentence.

“That is the sign for me to go,” Finn decided standing up, a look of near horror on his face. His eyes squinted as he looked between Rafael and you. “It was good to meet all of you. Maybe next time a little less alcohol.”

“Agreed,” everyone agreed.

“I think I’ll also call it a night,” Amanda smiled. “I should go and walk Frannie before it gets too much later. Are you girls fine to get home?”

“Aw, that is so sweet!” Lily leaned into Amanda smiling up at her. “I’ll be fine, I’ve gotten home when I have been way more drunk.”

“If you’re sure?” Amanda asked.

“Mhm, though I can’t say the same thing for Courtney or Shannon,” Lily nodded towards the two other girls who were leaning against each other and giggling.

“True,” Amanda agreed, eyeing them both.

“I’ll help with them,” Lily patted her arm. “Shannon lives on the way to mine so I can take her in an uber with me. Courtney however, lives in the opposite direction.”

“I can take her,” Amanda offered.

“Ooh I get to ride with the pretty detective?” Courtney asked bouncing in her seat. “It’s my lucky day.”

“I wanna ride with the pretty detective,” Shannon muttered.

“You ride with me,” Lily pointed at her. “And you better say you’re lucky with that.”

“Duh,” Shannon rolled her eyes. “But I get to ride with a pretty librarian all the time.”

“I am both offended and fine with that,” Lily shrugged as she quickly drowned the rest of her margherita. “Is anyone else heading my way? Can take two more in my uber.”

“I’ll take you up on that,” Finn nodded.

“Carisi, you coming with?” Amanda asked, a particular look in her eye as she looked at the Italian.

“Sure, that okay with you Courtney?” Carisi asked, not wanting to tag along if she wasn’t okay with it.

“Two pretty detectives?” Courtney asked. “Getting better and better.”

“I think that’s a yes,” Nick muttered. “I’ll be fine on my own. Liv, you good getting home?”

“I’ll be fine, I live in the opposite direction of all of you,” Liv smiled. Everyone turned to Rafael and you, both currently still arguing over him drinking your drink. “I think they’ll be fine.”

“Yeah, I don’t think it’ll be a good idea to share a ride with them,” Nick grinned. “It might get a little awkward.”

“Hey, lovebirds,” Carisi teased. “You two ready to go home?”

“Not with him,” you muttered, turning your pleading eyes to Liv.

“Oh, no,” Liv laughed reaching out to squeeze your cheek. “You are going with Rafi. Maybe you can tease him to feel bad about drinking your alcohol.”

“Ooh, could idea!” you nodded, trying to climb off your seat. “Come on bub.”

“I’ll never forgive this betrayal, Liv,” Rafael promised as he kept hold of your waist keeping you from stumbling. “She’s really good at teasing. It should be a crime.”

“Oops,” Liv grinned. “Come on.”

The group made it’s way out of the bar, Liv, Lily and Amanda helping Shannon and Courtney. They were surprising stable, only a little unsteady after sitting down for so long and drinking as much as they had. Nick, Carisi and Finn were all at the back keeping an eye on everyone else, they didn’t even realise that they had done it until Liv glanced over her shoulder and raised an eyebrow as the group waited for their Ubers together.

“What?” Nick asked crossing his arms. “You know me, you can’t even pretend to be surprised by this.”

“Alright, that’s actually fair,” Liv rolled her eyes.

“Rafi, the world is spinning,” you whined, looking up at Rafael, your hands were once again holding onto his suspenders.

“Aw, my poor Chica,” Rafael cooed lightly brushing the hair out of your eyes before pulling out his phone to order an Uber, his other hand still held you tightly against his side. “Let’s get you home, my apartment or yours?”

“Yours, please,” you grinned up at him, all annoyance over him stealing your drink gone. “I sleep better at yours now.” You nuzzled your face back into his neck, sighing happily as his scent surrounded you.

Rafael felt his heart melt at that, the two of you rarely slept away from the other these days. The first time you had been in his bed when he got back from a late night in the office it had been surreal, he had to stop for a moment and appreciate that fact that you wanted to be there when he got back. It had happened after he got an emergency call, the two of you had been having dinner at his and you were prepared to head back to your apartment when he left but he offered for you to stay at his without even really thinking about it, all he knew was that he wanted to come back to his apartment with you still there.

“Looks like our ride is here,” Amanda motioned towards the car that just pulled up pulling everyone out of their conversations. Carisi moved forward ready to help with Courtney. “Tonight, has been…entertaining and enlightening.”

“All of this has been off the record,” Rafael warned looking pointedly at all the detectives.

“Sure, counsellor,” Carisi agreed, a boyish grin on his face. “Next time we need a warrant and you don’t want to do it I’ll just call y/n up and she can get you to do it.”

“Nope, that is an abuse of my power,” you claimed not lifting your head from Rafael’s neck. “Only use it when absolutely necessary.”

“Noted,” Finn said.

“Alright, Shannon, Finn our ride is also here,” Lily waved towards another car that pulled up. “It was lovely to meet all of you, should do this again sometime.”

“That would be nice,” Liv agreed.

“Thirded!” you called. “I loved meeting the rest of Rafi’s friends!”

“And we definitely enjoyed meeting you,” Nick assured you, chuckling a little.

A round of goodbyes followed as everyone managed to get into their Ubers with minimal issues. Assuring everyone that they would message when each member got home safe and sound. The more sober members of the group thoroughly entertained by the drunker members attempt to converse with the drivers before getting sleepy.

“Alright, Carino, here we are,” Rafael huffed as he gently set you down on his bed, hands hovering just in case you started to sway a bit too much but when you stayed upright, he moved around his room, gathering some clothes for you to sleep in. A little selfishly he grabbed one of his shirts for you, along with a pair of your panties that you kept here. “Alright, let’s get you changed, that make up off and some more water into you.”

“Rafi,” you looked at him biting your lip as your hands struggled to undo the buttons on your top. “Let’s have sex.”

“I thought you said no sex for me because I was mean,” Rafael laughed, grabbing the make up removal wipes you kept on the dresser. He warmed at the thought that there were daily items you used all around his apartment.

“Oh yeah,” you mumbled before shrugging. “Really that’s punishing me as well and I don’t deserve that. I deserve your talented fingers, tongue and cock.”

“Lord help me,” he muttered rubbing his forehead as his cock twitched in interest. He had tried so hard to keep it down at the bar after you whispered to him but here in the privacy of his own apartment it was becoming a hassle. “Baby, you are really drunk, so that is a no on the sex.”

“Maybe but I wanna,” you promised him. “I fully, whole heartedly consent to you railing me. Besides you’re already getting me undressed.”

“To get you into something to sleep in because you are drunk,” Rafael explained patiently. This was the first time he had ever seen you drunk and it was both amusing and difficult as he tried to get you changed. “Come on arms up, there we go.”

Thankfully, in your drunken state you eagerly followed his directions as he changed you and gently wiped off the make up you were wearing. Being sure to get every last spec of it. He wasn’t about to try and get you through your entire skin care routine but he figured you could do that in the morning or he could help you if you were hungover. Who was he kidding? You were going to be so hungover.

“Sex?” you asked one last time as he got you to drink some more water, leaving a bottle on the bedside table before he quickly got changed and slid into bed beside you, tugging you close.

“You’re drunk,”

“…yeah…” yawning you wiggled into a more comfortable position of sleeping mostly on Rafael’s chest. “Night bub…” soft snores followed after that as you drifted off into a drunken sleep.

“Tomorrow morning is going to be something,” Rafael muttered pressing a kiss to the top of your head, wrapping his arms around you as he listened to you breathing, letting that lull him to sleep.

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its-actually-minicika · 2 years ago

Text

The Harshest Winters (18+!)

Part 4;;

Pairing(s): Jacaerys x Reader x bookcanon Aemond;

Warnings: all of them lmao - dubious consent, canon typical violence, lack of Jacaerys, death, blood and gore, Aemond - who forces the reader into holy matrimony in this one (oh yes it's happening), and of course engages in petty masturbation (it's not THW without him going ham on his own hand ♡)

Word Count: 15k+ (wowza i know)

Author's Note: Low and behold, part 4 is here!! Originally, this was supposed to be a 4 parts series, but that obviously isn't the case anymore. THIS TOOK SO LONG AND I'M SO SORRY - I had major issues with the tag list, and at some point, tumblr wouldn’t let me post this; I unfortunately couldn't solve those problems, no matter how hard I tried, so most of you haven't been properly tagged :") This update is a hot mess, and I haven't actually had the time to read through all the paragraphs that I wrote. I SHALL BE BACK TO EDIT

A huge thank you to everyone who's still following the story, though, and I hope you enjoy!

A war is in its midst.

When everyone else is readying themselves for the following decisive battles, you and Aemond are busy playing house.

Things get heated in Harrenhal, and one must decide when and where to pick their side.

The contact of the hot water upon Aemond’s ivory skin made the man shudder in naught but blinding pain. Achingly slow movements, followed by slow grunts echoed throughout the room – and Lady Tully stilled upon the silken sheets, moving her eyes over the book’s page for the thousandth time since he returned; thus driving all her peace away.

The baths Aemond determinedly took in the raptures of the late-night hours never failed to make her uncomfortable, and keep her on edge. Even so, being forced to hear the pained man move with such little stability and lack of confidence almost teetered the girl to the brink of madness.

Harrenhal had been in shambles since its proud conqueror beckoned his return on dragon back that very eve. Two young maids shouted for maesters, and Alys Rivers nearly caused a scene. As he got off his leather saddle, the Prince all but collapsed from tiredness and blood loss.

'He commanded his features to turn brave and taciturn,' his paramour had told her, 'as to not let a single hint of his condition spread throughout the Keep. My poor Aemond.'

The fool had been reached by an arrow.

An impressive feat, one had to agree – and wonder further on the identity of the courageous shot.

‘Struck right between his shoulder blade and chest,’ she had heard some lost girl utter, ‘It is a miracle he’s still alive.’

… Or the Gods’ cruelest punishment, the Lady compelled within her thoughts.

“Mmhh…” Aemond’s rugged breath deterred the girl to raise her glassy orbs from the confinement of the wilting pages. She schooled her eyes to stay above any level of indiscretion, and gingerly followed the trail of blood mixed with dirt, that seeped into and dirtied the once clear water.

Now that her curiosity was quenched, she could freely look away again.

Half a heartbeat later, she relented and surrendered in the face of his quarrelsome state. The Prince bit the inside of his cheek again, and raised his hand up to allow droplets of liquid to trail past his wounded shoulder… but to no avail.

“You could call in a maid, you know.” Her raspy voice descended upon his struggling body. Sooner than she may have liked, the Bliss of Riverrun closed her eyes, and concentrated on the languid noises that the Prince was making.

Seconds felt like pending minutes, until Aemond One-Eye graced her with a reply.

“I don’t need a maid to help me.”

Then that was that, the young woman soon concluded, returning her attention to the opened book.

'The Philosophies of the Riverlands', however, provided little to no aid to the situation at hand – and her overall station.

For she knew, perhaps far too well, that she had to play a different game than the one they'd engaged in, months prior to her imprisonment in that cursed place.

Insufferable man… she vexed him cruelly inside her head, I hoped by now you would be dead.

She raised one leg from the mattress that embedded her, and shifted it, so as to allow her limbs to hang lowly by the edge of the bed. Her thoughts formed and went as they pleased, but the girl settled on one final reach.

He hadn't even allowed Alys to help him undress. Suggesting her now was a deliberate waste of her time.

Not only that, but she still had to win his trust. Somehow, she promised herself, no matter what it takes, she'd do it.

Forcibly she rose from the bed, and made her way slowly towards his wide basin, fixating her eyes on the stone floor ahead. Her throat closed in on itself, and the girl pursed her lips into a tight line, whilst exhaling through her nose. It took a while for her to calm herself.

"... What about me?" She asked in a leveled tone.

Her gaze met his piercing orb, and the Lady nearly took a small step back. His face long washed the wave of shock from his sharp, Targaryen features – Aemond awaited her next words with a quirked up brow and a slight bite o'r his inner cheek. He seemed more than interested in her meek suggestion.

His wordless approval had left her speechless and, for a while, only her heartbeat emerged in her ears.

The Prince Regent trailed his eye hungrily over her extended arm. He took in a sharp breath as she grasped the rough sponge from his hand, and drained it of the putrid smell. She confidently brought it up to him – and teasingly trailed it over his hard chest, down to his lower abdomen, up again to his slouching shoulder.

"This… will hurt you a little bit." She whispered to him, skillfully averting her face from the man in question.

He gritted his teeth harshly, and almost let out a groan from his parted lips – with his dexterous and long fingers, he gripped the edge of the wooden basin, but dared not to look away from the kneeling Lady – choosing, instead, to focus on singling out her every soft and hard feature.

On her end, (Y/N) dabbed the piece of cloth over his wound gently, chanting inside her head to remain small and taciturn.

He shan't get more of a reaction from me, she promised herself through the span of an agonized huff, as she focused in on the task at hand.

Aemond's white skin revealed itself from the washed patches of dirt, and the Prince sighed a deep breath of contentment, as he felt his body be unintentionally caressed by her. His eye fluttered close, and a slight furrow of his tantalizing brow indicated the uncommon pleasure he took from their sporadic intimacy.

The two remain in awkward silence - the only noise that reached the girl's ears being the rattle of water and the occasional hiss from Aemond.

"... I'm sorry." She strained herself to whisper, whilst her hair fell seemingly out of place. "This looks as if it's painful."

The Prince Protector mirrored her stance, and glanced at her through the thick curtain of long, silver hair – the lilac in his eye complimenting the heatwaves of fire that danced across his marred skin.

"It's not painful." His gruff voice echoed in reply.

"... You –" The Lady began, but stopped on her tracks to level her voice again, by the aid of coughing in the back of her hand.

"You don't have to pretend in my company, you know."

She graced him with a forced smile, one she hoped seemed light enough to fool him. "Even if I wanted to, I couldn't make fun of you."

Her eyes trailed over to the harsh stone floor, wrinkling at their sharpened ends – "When I was three and ten," she began, "My youngest brother betted against one of the stable boys: that he could ride faster than anyone on his horse, Middle." Her eyes spasmed close at the memory, and the girl wistfully smiled to herself, "The fool scraped his knees in that dreadful race. Middle threw him right out of his expensive saddle."

As she spoke, she brought the rough cloth over Aemond's shoulder blade, right above his wound, and began scrubbing the dirt that adorned over his skin.

"He didn’t want anyone to know what had happened, so he made me clean it, in the stead of a maester." The Lady let out an airy laugh, as her nose scrunched up with a pang of fondness. "I have never seen a boy get so worked up over a simple scratch before."

Aemond hummed in admission – half relieved by the distraction she was offering, and half worried by the impending pain he would soon feel. He shifted from inside the basin, as if to reach for the sponge in her hand himself, but the girl simply laid her hand away.

Her musings came to an abrupt end. She retreated on her steps lightly, and offered the Crown Prince a quirked-up brow.

"You need to stay put, Prince Aemond. Otherwise, I risk causing you more harm than good." She swallowed thickly, and only shook her head, "Your wound needs thorough cleaning, Your Grace. And it is too far in the back for you to clean it by yourself."

She glanced at his face anew, and let out a tumbling sigh as he nodded his head again, trying his hardest to relax into her touch once more.

Part of him remained put up – the bulk of his chest and shoulders still gloriously hunched over, ready to bolt up at any given moment.

"... I hate to admit it. I thought he was exaggerating then – with the discomfort which he feigned was feeling."

Her lips pursed into a tight line, as she glanced quickly at the laying man, "But how can one make fun of another's state of pain?"

A sympathetic look was shared between them.

Her eyes softened in admission to his furrowed brows and descended features. In that exact light, she couldn’t help but notice how much he resembled her Jace.

"Pain makes us human. And it's a reminder for us: to really cherish our times of incandescent joy."

The break of a cold sweat kissed over Aemond's forehead; droplets of which gathered at the base of his left eye, where his leather eyepatch stayed secured.

The girl pushed down a disdainful puff, as her eyes trailed him over, from the rosy blotch of skin, back to his hawk-like eye.

"Leather retains heat." She murmured before she could catch herself.

The Targaryen Prince expelled a deep breath, and, as her hand came to rest over the buckle that secured his patch into place, he primed his lips into a downturned arch.

"It can't be good for you to always keep it on."

"The sight of it frightens others. I don't want it to frighten you."

"I've seen you without your eyepatch before."

"That was different. This time… is different."

The latter of his words sent a shiver down her bent spine. Nothing is different, she was aching to say. Her lips pressed anxiously together, and the girl offered Aemond a curt nod. Just as she was about to pull her hand away from the nape of his neck, the Prince's wet palm came up to stop her.

His fingers shakily entwined with hers. The deep callouses of his hand scratched the softness of her open palm.

For a while, Time herself froze before them.

(Y/N) came to avert her gaze, but Aemond's eye feverishly searched for the relieving clash of hers. His tongue darted out to wet his lips, and the Lady of Riverrun nearly choked onto the clogged-up air.

His silver locks curled slightly at their ends – the dampness of the room striking its claim over his perfectly straight strands of hair. In his own right, Aemond could be called beautiful. His striking Targaryen features might have ensured the favor of many young maidens, were it not for his rash and impetuous attitude, the bite that rested in his character – which no doubt spread like a disease over his life at Court.

"Look at me." Against his better judgment, and his innermost turmoil, Aemond allowed her small fingers to trail over the buckle of his blinder again. He drew out a comforting sigh, and, with her hand still in his, gently slid the leather off.

He sucked in a quiet breath, as the coldness of the air enveloped his throbbing eyelids.

The poise in his composure was cracking at the seams, with the passing of each second, during which she settled to remain silent.

Eventually, her hand came to rest over his face again. Her dexterous fingers began to leisurely wipe the sweat from his brow, his eye, by submerging them into the lukewarm water, and bringing them over and over to his clenched face.

"I'm sorry." She settled on to say instead, once the breaching of kind words failed to meet her. "No one deserves to be left without an eye. No one deserves such appalling cruelty."

"You appear to be sorry an awful lot this evening, My Lady." Aemond choked under his breath, taken aback by her gentle movements and sainty utter.

"I spend the better part of my days in the company of my own thoughts." She huskily reminded him, "... It's been increasingly easier for me to reflect on my past mistakes."

Wordless from her hoax admission, and desperate to feel her hands explore him further, the Targaryen Prince rose heavily from the dirtied water – his chest coming directly to her field of vision.

The girl let out a cutting gasp, as she turned swiftly on her heel, refusing to glance at his modesty, not any longer than she'd already had.

Her eyelids fluttered close, and she shifted from one foot to the other, but to no avail. For in spite of her desire to run away, the Lady found herself hammered in place.

The proximity between them laid out to be a problem – Aemond let out a frustrated sigh, and turned her head around with the clasping of his untouched arm. Two of his fingers came to rest at the base of her cheek and chin; the Prince let out a satisfied hum, as her body trembled in slight shock at their change of position.

"Gevie…" He muttered to no one but himself.

His cock stood proudly at attention, kissing over his prominent abdomen, trailing long past his belly button. Every now and then, white pearls pooled to the base of his length, weeping from his angry tip, trailing past his stones in the reach of the water below him.

"Look at me." He breathed again, and his sweet Lady obeyed.

She threw him a dejected look: half harsh and cold, half hardened and scorned. The tips of her ears matched the redness of her pale cheeks. Her eyes cast their curious glow throughout every corner of the room, yet stayed away from the scorn of indiscretion that called out to her, only centimeters below her swollen lips.

Aemond's thumb flicked once over her crimson labium, but the man sighed, seemingly discouraged, and settled upon gripping her dainty wrist instead.

"Gaomagon daor sagon zūgagon, issa dōna jorrāelagon. Nyke kivio ao naejot sagon gīda."

The gentleness that oozed from his voice could have had anyone fooled. But not her. The translations of the words he muttered against the skin of her wrist were lost on her, but the Lady of Riverrun still singled out a most protruding word.

He had never failed to call her 'his tormenting love'.

The girl's breath rose and fell with each agonizing word that befell over her face.

"Mēre tubis ao jāhor jaelagon issa." Aemond sighed against her wrist.

'I would sooner die than spread my legs for the Usurper's kin. I would sooner die than spread my legs for the Usurper's kin. I would sooner die than spread my legs for the Usurper's kin.'

Her words rang harsh and true inside her head – and, much like it was back then, her heart harbored no honorable intent towards the Trident's Terror.

He burnt your entire homeland, she chastised herself harshly, He killed thousands. Every day, even more find their end by the breath of his dragon. By the way of his wrath.

The ache in her heartbeat rang loudly inside her ears – her every pore aligned with her wish to run away, and her mind was screaming at her to retreat to a corner.

Comparing him to Jacaerys was a laughable feat.

"Let's… just finish getting you cleaned up, Your Grace" She struggled to finally suggest out loud, through the timid inflection of her outwardly calm voice.

She slithered her face away from his grasp, and began draining the sponge of the dark mud again.

Aemond sighed, and lowered himself back into the cold water – his lone eye never leaving the mould of her smaller frame.

"I heard that conversation… sometimes distracts the ill from the discomfort of the cleaning process, Your Grace."

Now turned to his exposed back, the girl's hand wavered over his punctured shoulder. She waited three, perhaps four seconds, before her arm finally breached contact with the wounded flesh.

Aemond took in a sharp breath, but remained otherwise silent, until she prompted him to speak again.

"How… how did such a thing even come to happen?"

Aemond's chest rose and fell with each labored pant. His eye remained tightly closed, his jaw awfully set. Her question registered into his mind, and a reply formed at the former base of his thoughts.

For a while, however, the One-Eyed Prince remained quiet – weighing the option of telling her the truth rather carefully.

"A Frey company was marching South." He hissed as her light hand came over his flesh, applying soft pressure in its wake. "The fog of the morning masked them from me – but Vhagar's shadow still went right above their heads."

The woman brought her free hand to rest over his lower back, and her fingers rubbed soothing circles into the dampness of his skin. "It was… very lucky that you didn't get more hurt."

She scorned herself inwardly, but kept her curiosity at bay. She wouldn’t ask him whether the company had risen victorious, or if he burnt all those men to the ground.

The latter option, in any case, seemed more than likely.

The Crown Prince tensed visibly, but didn’t scoot away from her soothing touch. A deep sigh parted from his cracked lips, and the man revelled at their sudden closeness.

He ached to talk to her, to plead with her to welcome him inside her heart – and into her bed. He could feel his own beat loudly, and his body trembled in unquenched lust and rage.

Still, he knew it was too soon for that.

Not once during their rash acquaintance, did the girl before he talk with so much interest about his day with him.

His thoughts trailed to Alys, and Aemond wondered if half her new admission was owed to her – if indeed the two women secured a friendship within the last two weeks, if his whore became her confidant, if she breathed in her trust in him.

He would have to talk to her later. Thank her, if he was feeling apt and generous.

(Y/N)'s breath caught in the shell of his ear, and the Targaryen Prince nibbled at his lower lip. His Adam's apple bobbed up and down; the coldness of the water gave him the strength to concentrate, by the sliding of small ripples down his exposed chest and abdomen. The ache of his wound was a small price to pay, if only to feel her knuckles working against his back.

"There we are. All done, Your Grace."

She rose up from her kneeling stance, wincing at the sudden change of perspective, and at the throb of her tired knees. She gingerly presented the clean set of clothes and bathing robes to him. Her head remained turned to the side, and her hand instantly let go of the heavy clothes, the moment his palm came into contact with them.

In the stead of returning to sit idly by their resting place, the woman graced him with a final look, and let out a faint mutter. "I'll leave you to it."

She wavered but a moment, and turned her stare to the ruined clothes; the ones that Aemond had so carelessly discarded on the floor, as he prepared for his undeserved nightly soak.

The shadow of a long-laid plan gleamed beneath her silent gaze.

"I can wash them for you tomorrow – after my bath. It might be wiser to keep the nature of your wounds hidden. The maids needn't worry over how much blood you lost."

Aemond's brows furrowed in slight shock, and the Prince remained wordless in the face of her sensible suggestion.

And yet her eyes spoke with so much sincerity, that he gleefully allowed the pang of hope to warm his unforgiving features.

"As you wish." He rumbled out, while forcing himself to move his stare to the folded clothes before him.

His eye trailed back to his hands' agile ministrations, and Aemond soon began to roll over his linen breeches, covering his half-hard cock with the help of the rough material.

A throaty groan etched from deep within his throat, however, as he reached for the pristine shirt.

The girl stopped in her tracks, and a deep scowl settled over her fair features.

The struggle he was undergoing would have been music to her ears – were it not for the solidarity of her position. For the millionth time that night, she reminded herself of her plan and her desperation to escape.

Thus, unbeknownst to her own better judgment, the Lady compelled herself to seek him further.

Although her words failed to assist her, the way she gingerly reached, with her hand wide and outstretched, made Aemond aware of her pending intent.

Their bodies were inches apart. The girl sucked in a hurried breath, and neglected to exhale it as the oxygen hit her lungs.

Aemond was burning up – and whether that was from the lack of fresh air within the confining room, or the first telltale sign of fever, or her – he was lost on saying anymore. His weakened arm slithered into the sleeve of his shirt, though the pain was long forgotten.

And instead of focusing on his poised movements, his glassy eye ran hungrily over her face and hypnotic features.

(Y/N)'s fingertips grazed over the light material. Her tired eyes softened at the familiar feeling. The threat of tears beckoned at the corners of her eyes, but she blinked them all away in a hasty movement. Melancholy ate away at her, far more often than she knew was wise to allow.

Still she remembered, if only for a moment, the raptures of Jacaerys' warm embrace. And how, in the heat of summer, that very same cloth felt against her heated cheek.

They must have had the same seamstress, the same tailor. Of course, she thought to herself in a bitter manner, after all, they are both Princes.

… Were.

But if she closed her eyes, she could pretend – No, she chastised herself fully, such a thing just cannot be. And you'd be a fool to attempt to it.

The magnetic pull between them trebly pried the two souls together. And it would be yet another minute, until (Y/N) finally took a step back, opening her mouth to announce the end of her intimate task.

Her eyes fell on the stone hard floor, and she carefully turned her back around him.

The long waves of her hair shifted over her modest nightgown, covering her mounds of flesh with a slight shift to the left.

"I'm going to sleep." She pathetically uttered, as the warmth that emanated from Aemond's form not moments prior, still fell heavily over her slight frame.

Mechanically she gripped the satin sheets and engulfed herself with them – a slight comfort came over her, as the coldness of the unused bedding fanned gently over her scorched limbs.

Aemond remained stuck in place, and a heaved breath rumbled from within his chest. The red in his cheeks would have put both their Houses' seals to shame – For once, he was glad she wasn't looking his way.

***

The rest of the night was spent in washed quietness.

And his Lady might have made it up: the dip at the edge of the bed, the smell of fresh pine and wildfire that caressed her in her sleepy state, and the slight "Thank you" that dabbled from her captor's lips.

“You plan to ride on dragon-back again? So soon?” The echo of Alys' voice carried her worry throughout the silent clearing.

The first rays of sunlight caught flame into her raven hair, lighting her features in such a way, that it accentuated her every perpetual scar and wrinkle. The fire inside her eyes could rival the one of a trueborn Targaryen, were it not for her strong outer appearance.

Aemond moved his body at a leisurely pace, not even bothering to throw the woman one of his usual vexing looks.

"Do you think dear nuncle will put a stop to the siege of the Twins, should the word spread about my condition?"

His cutting words rendered the woman speechless, and the Rivers witch simply clicked her tongue, whilst glancing at the green grass below her.

"War awaits no one, my dear." He asserted definitively, as he gripped onto Vhagar's long bridles.

The mighty beast let out a shaken roar, as Aemond winced once his wounded shoulder made light contact with her dark-green scales.

"Gīda ilagon, Vhagar. Sagon nykeēdrosa... Sȳz hāedar." He instinctively reached for her, and caressed her lower belly with one of his gloved hands.

At their calm exchange, Alys bit over her lower lip, harshly enough to draw her own blood. "You should stay." She managed to draw out, "At least a while – going in search of your uncle today, instead of tomorrow, won't make a difference to your brother's cause."

But her voice of reason reached deafened ears. For Aemond Targaryen was set on paying the debt he owed. The debt he agreed to take on, the moment his dragon clasped onto Lucaerys, swallowing the bastard whole.

"Everything matters at war, Alys." He hummed impatiently, while snapping his head in her general direction. "What do you think will happen to you, should Daemon reach Harrenhal? Your pretty head will rest near mine, impaled on a sharpened spike."

But if she told you to stay put, you would do just that, wouldn’t you? Her bitter thoughts chewed her conscious away.

Alys spat out a lowly curse, as she shifted uncomfortably in place. "Daemon Targaryen was here once, not long before you. He didn’t kill me then."

"Because you didn't matter back then." The Prince Protector of the Realm hissed through painfully gritted teeth, "You were no one to him. You were a wet nurse who merely spread her legs for him."

The man turned his back to her, as he wordlessly bound Vhagar's bridle over his wrist again and again.

"And last I checked, your cunt failed to inspire him."

Her mouth parted in a silent protest, and her green eyes widened in partial distress. "Still I should remain in luck," She choked out through a breathless laugh, "for it has never failed to inspire you."

"You are perfectly right," Aemond's laughter was humorless and brash, "And it is because of this loose cunt that Aegon nearly lost the support of Storm's End."

The Prince spun around on his heel's end, and trapped the woman in between his hard chest and restless dragon. "Sometimes I think you cost me more than you're worth." He whispered calmly into her ear, while trailing his index finger over the sharp edge of her jaw. "For speaking back to me, I could have you executed."

The finality of his words drew her body closer to the ancient beast, and Vhagar let out a displeased grunt. Amusement pulled at the corners of his downturned mouth.

"Still you should remain in luck," He mocked her with an airy laugh, "I find myself in an exceedingly good mood today."

The back of his hand came to play with a loose lock of her messy braid, and the Prince smiled at her stance and her bewildered look. "But you've been a most useful asset, haven't you, my dear?" He obliged her with a teasing smirk, "Lady Tully responded well to you, hasn't she? Tell me," He paused momentarily, as he trailed his hands to the narrow middle of her waist, and back up again. "Have you kept up your training with her?"

Alys' face fell into a frown, as she staggered a frustrated look. Aemond was toying with her.

"That dull book she pretends to read at night has the maps of three secret passages hidden amongst the latter pages. Two of them lead to that cell into the West Wing – but of course, she doesn't know that. The third one leads to the stables of Harrenhal."

Aemond hummed pleasedly, and the man soon took a wide step back, allowing his paramour enough space for proper breathing. "You did well." He smiled wistfully, "I should reward you well tonight. You may think of something you desire. I will see to it once I return."

"I would very much like you to stay and heal today." She urged him not a heartbeat later, surprising even herself with the intensity of her tone.

Aemond's composure broke with the licks of roaring laughter – one that was empty, and fell devoid of any feelings of fondness or grief.

"Think of something else." He urged her coolly, and dismissively pushed past her, to reach for his dragon's saddle.

"'Tis a good thing you shall never be a wife, Alys. The role of the worried wench doesn't suit you one bit."

"Keep feeding her half-truths and lies." He encouraged the woman with a final reach over her hand. He squeezed once over her balled-up fist – acting as both a promise, and a taciturn warning on what should happen, should she let him down again. "Regarding whatever else she may have to say… you'll report it back immediately."

With that, the Kinslayer of the Trident took off, leaving the promise of bone and ash behind his dragon's menacing ascend.

The Eyrie was, on all accounts, smaller even than Maegor's Holdfast. Inside the stronghold nestled the Arryns, hidden deep beneath the illusion of the smallest stronghold of the main seven Kingdoms. Despite its intermediate size, the Keep of the Giant's Lance deemed itself one of the safest places to be – Hardly a lie, especially now, Cain Waters ineptly hummed, once his wobbly feet carried him over the stoney threshold.

Despite its less-than-imposing size, and lack of sheer volume, (Y/N)'s sworn shield felt himself smaller than ever before.

How would he dare account for his whereabouts? Reason his shortcomings?

How could he hope to explain to his Lord that not only did he return empty-handed, without his beloved granddaughter on horseback – he returned without the notion of a hand at all?

Between the two strange figures with whom he traveled, it was Mira Florent who rested loyally by his side – her strength and stability allowing the Waters bastard to lean into her, if only for a fleeting moment, during the ascend of the narrow stairs.

"Take heart," She whispered, "Your Lord is a kind and understanding one. You won't be facing trial for this."

His mere reply was a solitary grunt, and a quick smile, dejectedly thrown her way.

Between the two strange figures with whom he traveled, Albar had remained behind. The mute man shrugged his head decidedly when Cain gestured towards the waiting castle, and Mira explained to him that the Vale scarcely left him feeling safe and wanted.

And he understood, perhaps far too well – the feeling of dejection a bastard boy felt, as he stepped foot into the land of his birth.

***

He'd been granted the comfort of a Maester and a hot soak, almost immediately after his appearance at the Arryns' Great Door.

The Lady of the Vale proved to be a kindred spirit, capable of great nurture, despite her lack of heirs to her family's ancestral throne. She gasped loudly at the sight of him. Her eyebrows furrowed in grave distraught, and her lower lip trembled as the healers informed her of the state of his right hand.

Her searching eyes reminded him of the ones of his own mother – neither particularly warm nor cold towards him, but fair and just in their own accord.

She almost decided against calling upon him to the Trouts' Black Council, but the young Oscar Tully had entirely different plans.

His eyes, as they were, were socketed by a deep, but elusive brown. They spoke and reminded him of a whole different tale than the one of his fair, poor Lady.

And it was Oscar's eyes, so similar in shape to hers, who bore ghastly holes into the back of Ser Cain's skull. His arm rose up, as if to cut off the man's retelling – his nostrils flared up in disgust, and his face twisted into a painful scowl.

"So what you're telling me… is that you failed to bring her back."

Cain's eyes hardened at her brother's words, and the knight nibbled on his lower lip, in an attempt to calm himself.

Although a brave and honest man, he dared not look in the eyes of Lord Grover Tully – he dared not see what lay beneath his wilted face. Thus, all his attention focused in on the chirping lass.

"Aye, my Lord." He mustered up to tell him, "I lost her to the One-Eyed Prince. We escaped Harrenhal, and managed to get as far as the Saltpans, but –"

The boy scoffed at his attempt to pardon and explain himself. He nodded affirmatively, and scrutinized Cain with his piercing gaze.

"You returned with an empty hand, Ser Cain. You failed: miserably."

His back straightened in an attempt to appear bigger, and the hot-headed lass rose from his chair in a hurling daze.

"Because of you, my sister is in the hands of that cycloptic freak. Because of you, we don't know anything about her whereabouts. She could be tortured, enslaved, sullied – worse!"

Lady Jane Arryn clicked her tongue in disbelief, and beckoned her guard to guide the boy back into a sitting stance.

"That is quite enough, Oscar." She asserted calmly, "We have no evidence of such a feat."

"Of course we don't!" The young Lordling huffed annoyedly, jolting on the brink of madness, "The deranged cripple wouldn't reply to any of our ravens!"

His face contorted animalistically, the freckles on his face being taken by the deep shade of crimson that coloured in his plumper cheeks. "And with you here, Waters, we don't even have the certainty that (Y/N) is still alive!"

"Oscar." Grover's deep voice echoed a warning through the quietness of the tiny Keep.

As if struck in the face, the youngest of the Tully brothers shifted in his seat again. "My sister's fate is breached unknown," He cried out in a collapsing tune, "She's our family, grandfather, my only sister! Pray tell, why does it look as if I'm the only one who gives a damn?"

The graying Lord and the narrow Lady both leaned towards a perplexing look. But before any of them could reply to his laid-out challenge, (Y/N)'s brother urged them further, as he hissed through his gritted teeth. "It would have been better for you not to return at all, Ser Cain. It would have been better for all parties involved to have sent me in his stead, Grandfather!"

His shoulders slouched forward, and the brazen boy fought with Grover's intense stare. "Had I failed, I wouldn’t have even returned at all." Oscar roared over the silent council, proclaiming his intent with a defying raise. "I would sooner have died, than see her be taken by that monster again."

"What would you have had me do, boy?!" Grover Tully raised his voice in turn, "You fool. Would you have had me send you away for her? Do you think your death would have made you a martyr?!"

Cain's lips pursed into a tight line, as the Riverlords before him bickered further. Even Lady Jane Arryn seemed to be left speechless, unsure of when or how to stop their arguing.

Family feuds were neither one's strongest suit.

"Do you think," His Grandfather uttered, "that if you were to die, anyone would remember you fondly?!" The red in his cheeks matched the one on his grandson's face, and the elder Lord broke out into a coughing fit. "Your sacrifice would mean nothing. And when the dust settled over Westeros, and the war was done, you would just be another casualty. Another body to burn in a communal."

Almost immediately, his eyes softened, and their deep creases faltered on his face.

The Lord of Riverrun grunted in fatigue, but still rose himself securely on his two able feet. He marched towards the huffing boy, and placed a wrinkled hand over his sweaty forehead, urging him to quiet down.

"It's not about glory, Grandfather." He spat out lowly, as his ears began to match his fiery locks of curly hair. "It's about family. Our family. It's about ensuring its survival."

The older man gave the lass a curt nod. He pinched the bridge of his nose with his free hand, and turned to the knight with a downturned smile.

"There wasn't a knight more fit for the task than Ser Cain." He confirmed his judgment with a tired gesture in his direction. "He was knighted at five and ten. You are over your seven and tenth birthday, boy, and haven’t been even mirthed a squire."

Oscar sucked in a protesting breath, feeling the eyes of everyone in the room fall before him. His brows furrowed in a dangerous quarrel, and his blood ran hot. "Yet even with all the skill in the world, he still failed."

Lord Grover was losing his patience, "Yes, grandson, that he did! He failed, despite all the signs that pointedly told us otherwise – do you think you'd do an equitable job? When you haven't even once crossed swords in a Joust or Tourney?"

Nearby the aching knight, Lady Arryn renowed her position.

She whispered to her waiting guard, and the man took a step ahead, hitting over the chantry with the hilt of his sword.

The noise that erupted grabbed the attention of both grandson and grandfather.

"The turn of events marked by Ser Cain's departure means we need to readjust our plans." She commanded their heed calmly, "It is… unfortunate; that Lady Tully's sworn shield failed to protect her. Yet here we all stand, warming our bottoms on a mine of gold."

Cain should have been grateful for the distraction she was offering. All the displeasure surged upon him evaporated within the click of her tongue, and less conventional language – still, even he had to remain weary on the subject he opened.

"On a mine of gold?" Oscar spat out sharply, feeling his self-control disperse by failing him again. "My Lady, do you think my sister's condition is a situation of great rejoice?"

The Lady's blue eyes cut through the boy deeply, and the young man closed his mouth in embarrassment, before sitting down again.

She reached for the goblet of wine, and wet her lips with it, "Our strategical situation couldn't be better. Not once have we had a spy of Harrenhal successfully return. In truth, we didn’t even think it possible." Her lithe hand pointed towards the bloodied knight, and her eyes glimmered in mischief, "Yet here stands our living proof."

She elegantly rose from her ivory throne, and signaled the man to take a seat at the bent table. As he gingerly followed her lead, the woman spared him with a kind glance, and met his glance with her deep azul gaze.

"From what I gather, you spent the better part of a month undetected in the Strongs' Keep. Is that true?"

Cain nodded stiffly, and rested his bulky hands over his tired knees. "Yes, my lady. That I have."

"And you were knighted at fifteen?" She alluded to what was early spoken.

"Yes, my lady."

"By Lord Hunter Redwyne." She urged him to clarify, through the edge of a quirked-up brow, and the callings of a small smile pulling at her dusted lips.

"Yes, my lady. The very one."

Lady Jane hummed, seemingly satisfied by his short answers. She turned her attention to Lord Grover and his tiresome grandson, and merely asked Ser Cain again.

"And you faced the Kinslayer in combat, cut by a Valyrian blade, and lived to tell the tale?"

"... Aye, my lady."

Oscar's eyes remained unyielding. But Grover Tully glanced at the man before him, and offered him a wordless bow.

"Tell me, Ser, how would you like to command your own battalion?"

"You have to be patient." Alys chastised her deeply, as her luring features turned from flaccid to sharp. "Hardly enough time has passed since your last attempted escape – Aemond is still very much on edge."

The Lady's eyes turned to her. With the bridge of her nose scrunched up, and her fair features molded into a desperate plea, the girl looked more like a lost child, than an able and resourceful Lady.

Alys regarded her as such, and sighed deeply as she grasped onto her shoulders carefully.

"If I wait any longer, it'll be too late. I've already wasted three moon turns in this cursed Keep. I have to return to my family." The Tully spoke decidedly, leaving behind no room for arguing. She took a seat before the tiny mirror, that breached her modest vanity – a recent gift from Aemond, deduced by him to make her feel more like a proper lady.

The image that reflected within it looked at her like a dire stranger. The green silks she was dressed into, the pristine, braided hair that framed her pale cheeks perfectly; She was the vision of a flawless royal, a soft and polite maiden, untouched yet by the spoils of death and war.

'Would this be enough?' She asked herself desperately, whilst gripping the edge of her chair painfully.

Was this what Aemond had always wanted? The proof of her lack of autonomy, finally presented to him on a silver platter, as he returned from war every night?

Was he, perhaps, congratulating himself, every time he glanced at her, thinking himself master of the universe for making her arch and kneel?

Alys shook her head once more, and rested a hand over her bouncing knee.

"Patience is a virtue, Lady Tully. You needn't put yourself through any more unnecessary risks."

The Lady of Riverrun shook her head vigorously, finally snapping herself back to reality; Her actions were defying, and devoid of any capacity. Alys felt herself more confounded by the second. "I'll help you plan this thoroughly." The wood witch adverted. Her head quirked to the side in an encouraging gesture, and the girl nodded feverishly in reply.

Her green eyes widened in fair delight, and Aemond's lover lowered her gaze over the girl's book. "You memorized the passages well enough. Very soon, you shall put your knowledge to practice."

(Y/N) let out a tired sigh, and graced the older woman with a pleasant smile. "I'm lucky to have you, Alys" She played with her rings as she spoke, "Thank you. For everything."

As the elder woman finally left her Quarters in favor of bringing out the order for dinner, (Y/N) let out an aggravated groan.

Her long pretense would surely make her nauseous. But she would be a simpleton indeed, to place all her trust in Alys.

The walls preleened with the doom of silence. A cold breeze dug its way deeply into her spine, and the silent taste of passing and demise left a sour taste in her parted mouth.

***

Aemond began dinner as he wontedly did every day – praying to the Warrior to grant him strength in battle, to the Smith, to mend all that was left broken, to the Father, "to shine his light", and lead their souls out of the brink of darkness.

Each and every time, without fail, the girl would bring the pristine napkin to her mouth, masking the obvious way her lips would quirk into a most unyielding smile. His pious speech, and the way his hands painfully clasped together, begging for the blessing of resolve, made her scoff in blinding wonder.

Was he even aware of the words he mostly muttered? Did he ever stop to assess himself throughout the day, and realize the sin in which he debaucherously bathed in?

As his speech came to an end, the Lady preleened forward, grabbing a hold of the boiled-up stork.

How lovely it was to sit between comfort and chaos.

"You've never been one to speak much during our time spent together." Aemond remarked through the rumble of a solitary hum. "Yet I had hoped this last week softened your resolve, My Lady."

Her eyebrows rose in slight discomfort, as her eyes focused on the leisure movements of his bigger hands.

So he was softening up.

She opened her mouth almost immediately, but her hesitant eyes danced around his blinding stare. Her plump lips pressed into a hard line, and she exhaled loudly through her nose, in an attempt to ground herself.

"Not at all, Your Grace, I assure you." The cluttering of her fork came to a hoisted end, as Lady Tully aligned her head to focus directly on the One-Eyed Prince. "I should love nothing more than to talk to you… Please, do advise me on what you would like most to hear."

She fidgeted nervously with her silver rings – a quirk she developed whilst imprisoned in the Strong's Keep – and gingerly awaited his reply.

Your Grace. Your Grace. Your Grace.

The stillness in her speech and eyes drove the man effectively wild.

"Aemond." He stilled her faction through the reign of a distorted sigh.

She regarded him with a petrified stance. Her hands fell heavy over her legs in the wake of anticipation.

"... I-I beg your pardon?"

"Aemond." He repeated his name again, "We already break bread and sleep in the same bed." His lilac eye rose from his plate, and singled out her reddened cheeks. The man paused a while, as if to weigh his words carefully, and his cold, glassy orb, hungrily ran over her form. "It seems inevitable that we'd call each other by our given names. Yet you never once said mine throughout."

The girl could feel her throat dry up. While still maintaining his awkward stare, she reached for the glass of wine that rested by her left side. She wrapped her hand around its stem, and brought it to her paling lips.

The liquid courage slid down her throat in a quick, though burning manner, and (Y/N) had to swallow down an erratic cough. Her brows furrowed amidst, as she picked her words out slowly.

"I have called your name before, Prince Aemond. Many times throughout the moons, in fact."

He smiled at her perturbed reply, and shook his head in coy distraught.

"Not without the honorifics." The man clarified in a pleading tone, his voice growing hotter now. "... Just say my name." He sighed defeatedly. His hand gripped the edge of the table, silently, as the Targaryen Prince could feel his mind running with a thousand thoughts per passing minute.

The silence ate at him alive. She drowned the wine in a swift swing, and slouched forward to pour herself another glass.

She was too sober for this.

Lucaerys, Jacaerys, Cain.

Part of her wanted to pluck his eye out. Part of her wished nothing more than to make fun of him. Laugh, perhaps, at his desperate indiscretion. Do something – anything – to gauge a reaction out of him.

Any sort of reaction, that would make her pestering feelings for him leave her heavy soul.

Surprising even herself, adamantly going against her own wishes, the woman caught herself breathing out.

"... Aemond."

Unexpectedly he moved, by jumping to his ready feet, fully disregarding the oak chair as it hit the floor in a most perused manner.

The pang of noise alerted her, and seemingly, the guards outside. A while they remained in silence, listening in to the clash of metal that announced their unsure shifting.

But they wouldn’t come inside. The girl was lest aware of that.

As time pressed on, Aemond remained hammered in place, heaving out his weighty breaths and clasping his hands in aching fists.

Her eyes momentarily left his shadow – to turn again towards the poach of wine, and empty another glass in rapid gulps.

The heavy atmosphere inside the room hung lowly over their tired heads. (Y/N) resumed her mellow eating, wincing at the shakiness within her hands. She grabbed another piece of the boiled meat, though Aemond's stare soon made her drop it, and the girl clicked her tongue in disbelief; grabbing it instead with a piece of cloth, and securing it into a tight knot.

This time, it was her actions that had failed her. And perhaps it'd be her ready words that would prevail.

"Aemond." She spoke again, this time more confidently than before. The bitter liquor was burning her throat, her chest, her heart. She felt her limbs heavy – with both anticipation and frustration - borne out of lack of relief. She wanted to slap him, to hit him, to crush him beneath her feet.

She wanted to run away, to stay confined, forever inside this room, forever astute to what was going on in the outside world.

She wanted to feel something.

She wanted…

"Yes." Aemond encouraged her softly, and her attention came back to the raptures of the present tense. "There we go." He worded out, keeping his tone barely above a whisper.

Neither could tell when or how it happened – but Aemond's body was inches away from touching hers. The heat emanating from his beating heart washed over the meek form of the tipsy Lady. His Lady.

She gulped painfully, and the Prince could feel how his hands started spasming with the need to feel her. His nails bit the inside of his calloused palm, leaving deep and angry marks inside them.

His prominent veins shifted with his every faction. His face morphed into hopeful disarray.

"There we go." He repeated gently, "I want to hear your laughter. You never once laughed with me."

Her stare was hard to decipher. And yet confliction danced across her face. Aemond turned serious, and the stammering of his hands came to an untimely end. His eye bared holes into her reddened face; and the Lady humorously thought, if only for a moment, that it was a lucky thing he didn’t still have both his eyes. For such a stare would be embedded in her subconscious, bringing forth her swift undoing.

The corners of her mouth felt painful to bend and break. Shakily she smiled at him, and opened her mouth in shocked reclusion.

A shy laughter erupted from her unquenched throat, and the woman shuddered, surrendering the reins of reason to the drunken thoughts that sieged her.

Her laughter wasn't her own. The languid movements of her hands, that trailed over Aemond's chest, were not her own.

His finger came to caress her cheek. Her nose. Her brow. Her lips. Her mouth. The Crown Prince sucked in a dangerous breath, and secured his left arm loosely around her waist.

"Good girl," He spoke tenderly, his voice going from gruff to rough, "Such a good girl for me." His fingers combed through her messy braids, marking their swift undoing – taking a step back, he could feel the heat leave his head, in the favor of traveling lower, to meet the almost flaccid cock confined in the tightness of his pants. "Say my name again. Laugh again." He commanded in a pleading meowl. His lips twitched in anticipation, and his eyes trailed lower, lower still, from up her face, down to her soaring bosom.

"Aemond."

"(Y/N)."

A solitary look of shame was shared between them. Perhaps pushed forward by the only remaining faction of rationale, the two placed a step in between each other, but even that proved to be too fickle of a barrier to keep them whole apart.

Aemond reached to cup her face with his own trembling hand – on her end, the girl's digits trailed over from his high cheekbones, down to his prominent cupid's bow, in an all but gentle caress.

"Avy jorrāelan." He hissed through painfully gritted teeth, allowing his head to rest in the crook made of her shoulder blade and neck. "Avy jorrāelan." He repeated, the vulnerability in his voice making him lose the hold he had over himself.

"Se Jaes emagon qrimbrōstan issa naejot jorrāelagon ao." His feathered breath came into contact with her dainty neck. (Y/N) gasped lightly, as she felt the first of his many kisses being tenderly placed over her jaw and neck.

Her head was pounding, and her eyes were screwed shut, as the coldness of the wall hit her in perused waves. The impropriety of the soft moans and sighs that filled her ears to the brim left her confused and wanting.

The worst of it was that she didn’t know whether they came from her or him.

She felt as though her head was being harshly held below the water, and the girl clawed at her dress to loosen her tight bodice, which seemed to constrict even her erratic breathing.

Aemond's attention moved from her earlobe back to her lips. He felt how her hands contorted sporadically, and he placed his own palm over hers, to put an end to her hasty movements, and give her a sense of calmness. His fingers suddenly entwined with hers, as his form hovered above her. His throat etched with a lousy moan, and his mouth finally crashed with hers.

(Y/N)'s eyes opened at the shocking scene, and her lips suddenly parted, either to beg or to protest against him, but Aemond's hot tongue found entrance into her warm cave – deciding instead to deepen the kiss, and press himself further against her smaller form.

The outline of his throbbing cock molded against the shape of the woman's thigh, and the Prince Protector of the Realm let out a pleasured hiss, once her insistent writhing ended up brushing up his weeping tip. "Jaes, ao istan vēttan syt issa." He mumbled against her swollen lips, "Sepār jurnegon skorkydoso īlon kostagon fāelor hēnkirī."

She let out a fatigued whimper, and swiftly turned her head around, putting an abrupt end to their meek and vicious pecks.

"What's wrong, hmm? Dōna hāedar… ȳdra daor hakogon qrīdrughagon hen issa sir."

Aemond's lips were soft and tender, leaving behind an almost vivacious bite over her exposed parts. His pace had been filled with an animalistic hunger; the longing inside his eye caught her unprepared, and her lips parted with the desire to feel something – anything – that his palpable mouth would keenly offer.

(Y/N) shuddered with her eyes closed, and grabbed a hold of his long, white hair, leading the man closer yet to her swelling heat.

The way in which he held her should have felt so very wrong. But at that moment, the only thing she could do was extend her arm back up to him, and guide him with an insistent pull over his silky locks: encouraging him to bring forth his descent upon her lips.

She disregarded the way a figment of her psyche screamed at her. To stop her ministrations, to slap his calloused hands away from her. For if she kept her eyes closed, and focused solely on the shape of him, then she could almost pretend that the man before her had nothing to do with her beloved Jace.

She could almost pretend that he was Jace.

Aemond's pupil was left blown wide – so much so, that the lilac of his iris could almost be left neglected. He wrapped his hands around the lady's thighs, and hoisted her up to meet him by his narrow hips. Both moaned into the other's mouth, and the Prince soon found his way into the raptures of the silken bed.

His heated cock kissed the outlines of her soaked cunny. Aemond sighed deeply over the arch of her neck, and pawed away at her untouched bodice.

(Y/N)'s hands rested still upon his eyepatch, and, with a swift and hasty movement, she yanked it off his sculpted face.

"We need to stop…" She moaned, defeated, and felt how Aemond's body stiffened up below her, as the harsh realization finally hit them both.

She had uttered the words aloud.

Half expecting him to blow out fuming, the woman tried to pry herself off his fevered body, but his hands reigned like iron shackles over the inside of her spreading thighs.

"Do we?" He whispered lowly, whilst leaning in to steal another kiss from her again.

"We shouldn’t." She strained herself to say once more, and Aemond nodded, still chasing her lips with his.

She melted into his reluctant touch, and hummed against his beating heart. His hands dug deeply into her resting sides; his fingertips scattered over her translucent spine, leaving their possessive mark. "This isn’t right."

"I know, I know," He gasped, "Seven Hells, I know…"

"Yn nyke istan zarvīzis," He pressed a finger over her swollen lips, "Nyke emagon issare sīr sȳz se… sīr, sīr zarvīzis."

With the last ounce of her strength, she bit over his lower lip, dragging a wanton moan from out of his rosy lips.

"Ao aehron raqagon ao ȳdra daor jaelagon bisa..." He chanted, while latched onto her burning sear, "Yn ao jaelagon issa sepār hae olvie. Ao mazilībagon syt issa – sepār hae qosaevaerī."

His High Valyrian had made her dizzy. And at first, she tried to pay his words her mind, she tried to grapple and understand what he was saying.

A starved meowl left her panting lips.

"You can tell me to stop," The words that poured out of his mouth washed upon her like a rippled tide, "You can tell me to stop… and I will..."

Her body quickly arched against him; her shaky hands came to rest over his hips. She laced her mouth again with his, expecting rough, dominant kisses – but Aemond's hands propped themselves loosely against her cheeks, his thumbs pliantly stroking her with untoward devotion. His single eye drank her in with reverence.

"Please…" He whimpered into her mouth, "Avy jorrāelan." He confessed to her, again and again, trying his hardest not to take her against the cold floor – and not fuck her straight into the messy mattress.

Her limbs felt heavy. Lacking their autonomy. The body she was nestled in still wasn't her own.

"... Why?" She asked him disdainfully, sporadically, as his index finger came to pry open her haughty entrance.

His eye widened in perplexed ruin, but the Prince soon stumbled over his words again.

That bastard Jace must have taught her the gist of that.

"... I wish I knew." Came his sole and sincere reply.

Just like that, her eyes welled with the threat of tears.

His hands, his hold, his voice, his mouth. It was all wrong. In truth none could ever hope to feel right.

Flashes of her old lover, of his baby brother – who was so small the last she'd seen him –, of her sworn shield came into view. All of them, gone as if they never were. All of them, with their memories trampled deep beneath her sprawled-out form.

She wasn't a woman of the Faith. Not after what had happened. Not after the spoils of war that she, herself, felt like angry whips upon her skin. But her eyes fluttered close, and she begged the Mother for forgiveness, whilst a tear rolled off her ticking cheek.

She brought a hand to her wobbly lips, and began to violently rub away any remaining trace of Aemond's presence.

She was disgusted. With him, with herself, with the world, with the image of her Jace – that surged in her mind the second she blinked, the moment that she jolted awake in her misery.

On his end, (Y/N)'s display of pure abhorrence failed to falter Aemond's lustful grief. Why, if she did not desire him, did she fall into his arms again and again?

Love was the death of duty. And longing was the doom of all.

"Fucking cock tease…" The Prince growled, grief-stricken, "How much longer are you going to give into me, just to push me away?"

His patience had been running thin. The ache in his breeches was long forgotten. In its stead, the urgent sting in his heart dragged the man into the pits of madness. "What is it this time?" He groveled over her closed legs again.

Her recuperation had been jovial and quick. Adrenaline replaced the pain and shame, and the woman tried to get off the bed, put as much distance as she knew how in between her and the ravished Prince.

For the first time since he came to be, Aemond would not let her escape his clutches. As she moved backwards, he persisted forward – following her wobbly feet throughout the room with the spare of his predatory eye.

"Y-You said –" She tried ceaselessly to accuse him. "You said you wouldn't –"

"And you're right. I meant every. Single. Thing. I told you." He growled into her frightened ear, as his hands came to cage her, trap her under the seclusion of the hard, stone wall.

"You're mine." He hissed desperately, as he clasped her jaw to face him. "You've always been mine, you fucking harlot. From the moment you stepped foot into Harrenhal, your life belonged to me."

Perhaps Aemond was right, and she was nothing but a harlot. A treacherous swine that hung onto whatever he could give her - so starved and devoid of love and warmth, that she'd dare to stoop so lowly with him.

Aemond descended his unquenched rage over her exposed neck, and began leaving tender love bites all over, in spite of her lackluster pleas.

(Y/N)'s head felt like it was about to explode. She felt sick to her stomach – the wine and the distraught both built up inside of her. All she wanted now was to be left alone. For Aemond's touch felt oddly comforting, and her tired eyes began to close. "You drive me insane." She heard him choke.

She wanted to open her mouth. To urge the Prince to stop; but her word hole was sewn shut, taken over by the grip of feared confusion. While his hand hoisted her up by the waist again, her hand went around him, to grab onto whatever she could find. Finally, she stopped at the dragon-glass dagger, that securely latched onto Aemond's waist. Effectively, she wrapped her fingers around its silver hilt, and sheathed it out of its confinements.

"I swear on whatever God you want me to, I'll slit your throat if you don't stop touching me –" She wailed into Aemond's form, as she felt him stiffen up in tumultation.

His nostrils flared up at her attempt to intimidate him, and yet… his face looked most serene, as the cutting edge of the dagger reached close to his ivory skin. She raised her brows at him in utter surprise; for she expected him to surrender. His arms snaked away from her, and Aemond watched her intensely with his piercing gaze.

She could kill him, consequences be damned. And if she faced trial for this, then at least she'd have taken out a Green and Vhagar.

Her hand was shaking. Her breathing became erratic. She'd held a blade on multiple occasions; she'd fantasized about cutting Aemond's throat more times than she could bring herself to count. And yet…

His lack of movement – of worry – rattled her endlessly. She wanted to scream at him, to push him, to cut him. But for some reason couldn't bring herself to do it.

The realization that she just couldn’t do it made her almost drop the knife from the tight hold she'd kept it under.

"Why aren't you the least bit worried?" She spat out lowly, with her body trembling and her jaw set tight.

Aemond remained quiet and taciturn. His eye fixed her face carefully, and his hand gently wrapped around her quivering wrist. "Come on now…" He whispered to her, and watched how her eyes filled with the endless tears of frustration, how the hot droplets rolled down her reddened cheeks.

It would take another moment for her to drop the blade.

A moment she would forever grow to resent.

"I fucking hate you." She hissed through a breathless sob.

Oh, how she wished to hate him. Hate him as she did when they first clashed swords. Hate him as she did when she heard Jace talk about Lucaerys' death.

"Liar." Aemond rasped in acknowledgment.

And, just like that, the damage had been done. The blade rested back into his hand within an instant, and Aemond hit the wall behind her with murderous intent. "Fucking liar." He whispered again, breathing less and less sporadically, trying to wash his nerves away.

"I have been so good to you. But no matter what I do, it'll never be enough for you. Hmm?" He shook his head adamantly, and dug his fingers into the cold tiles of the cursed stronghold. "I am a patient man. But I will not wait a minute longer."

Her face twisted into a painful scowl, and the girl pushed over his chest roughly, but Aemond was quick to deny her exit. "This is not ideal," He muttered lowly to himself, "Yet you need to be taught a lesson."

"What are you d–"

Her words died upon her lips. Aemond hummed in dissatisfaction, and immediately brought the blade into her view.

She let out a scream of pure horror, but his pliant mouth silenced her with a scorching kiss. Her whole body was shaking, and the Prince Regent let out a frustrated sigh.

"Cease your crying, you hateful woman." He chastised her cruelly, "The fucking Gods sent you to ruin me."

At that moment, she wasn't above pleading. Her knees wobbled in place, and her orbs frantically searched for a way out. For something to grip and swing at the man before her.

Aemond's eye softened at the sight of her. Despite the pang of guilt he felt, a teasing and self-assuring smirk formed at the corners of his upturned lips.

So Jacaerys hadn't told her. He never mentioned their Valyrian way to her.

His triumphant feat soon washed away, as her trembling hands came into contact with his. "Ÿdra daor dīnagon, issa gevie Dāria. Nyke jāhor dōrī jaelagon naejot ōdrikagon." He told her adherently, truthfully, despite the obvious language barrier.

He took a moment to regain his composure. Grab a hold of her balled-up fists and remember the ancient words he'd only ever read about in his history books.

"Hen lantoti ānogar. Va sỹndroti vāedroma."

He ripped the sleeve from his linen shirt, and placed it over their entwined fingers.

"Mēro perzot gīhoti. Elēdroma iārza sĩr. Izuli ampā perzī."

The blade finally pressed down, over the softness of his left palm. Aemond winced at the sudden pain, and made a mental note to only nick the frightened girl with it, when the time came for that.

"Prūmĩ lanti sēteksi. Hen jenỹ māzīlarion. Qēlossa ozündesi."

(Y/N)'s eyes widened to a comical amount. Somewhere along the way, it seemed, she grew aware of Aemond's intent. She refused to show her hand to him, placing them both behind her back, and holding on for her dear life.

He let out a disapproving grunt, and reached his bloodied hands to her, yanking her right hand from underneath her strong grasp.

"No! No –!" She kept on screaming, and the guards outside shifted in place, before they fell under their oath of silence once again.

The cold and slick edge of the dragon glass pressed lightly against her writhing palm. Aemond made a smaller cut, and carried on with his rapid mumbling.

"Sỹndroro öñö jēdo. Rỹ kīvia mazvestraksi."

His very fist came to cut over his lower lip. His gory hand then reached for her jaw, hammering her in her place, and a sharp sting reflected on her weary stance. Aemond profited off the moment, to ease the dagger into her waiting mouth.

The metallic taste flooded her senses – the girl saw red before her eyes, and failed to register how his fingers came upon his and her forehead, painting them over with a ghastly symbol.

The Targaryen Prince reached for her hand again, and pressed her wounded palm cohesively with his.

"Following the tradition of my House from before the Doom of Old Valyria, I, Aemond of House Targaryen, bind myself to (Y/N) of House Tully, by blood, by soul, by life –"

"NO!"

" – And I pledge to her: that we are now one flesh, one heart, one body. Now and forever."

As he finally pried his limbs away from her trapped body, Aemond allowed his lips to feathery trace over her twisted mouth. She glanced at him, with wide-set and teary eyes.

"Fuck your fucking pledge."

Some grand venue she received.

A single question hung loosely into the air.

"Are you going to rape me now?"

She scarcely registered her own words as they left her mouth.

Aemond's eye widened at her query, and the Targaryen bit over his lower lip, as a deep grimace morphed the fairness of his features. He looked almost dumbfounded by her made assumption.

As soon as it came, the look of utter betrayal left his face.

"You would slit my throat with the knife." Was his mere reply.

***

Sometime along the night, he left.

The mighty roars of Vhagar registered themselves in the far-away distance.

That night, and only that night, she allowed herself the sacrilege of prayer. And she did so, again and again, pleading to the Seven for a blind arrow to reach his neck.

On the back of Vhagar, Aemond shuddered away from the impossible waves of heat, that licked deliciously at his stiffened cock; whenever her breathing would reach his ears, he felt tortured, trapped beneath the swell of lust and wanton desire.

Despite his abhorrent decision, he knew what their marriage meant. He knew all too well what his cruel bind had done, and yet… he felt no plausible remorse for the situation at hand.

The support of Storm's End, Floris Baratheon, Alys – mere casualties compared to the brink of having her, to knowing that she was finally his, as he was wholly hers.

Eventually, she'd have to love him. Eventually, she'd learn to do so.

A marriage wasn't a marriage until it was consummated. But he would give her, as he had promised, the illusion of choice, if nothing else.

As the cold night's air whipped his face again and again, and as Vhagar's thundering resounded over the burnt trees of the Riverlands, Aemond sighed, and brought a shaky hand to the strings of his breeches.

Scared as she was, his Lady made for a beautiful bride. It was such a shame that he didn’t get to see her wear the traditional Targaryen gown.

The pad of his thumb trailed over the cut he'd made – the same cut that now rested over her extended palm.

The flesh would scar, he thought, well pleased; whenever he looked at her, he'd get to see how she was undeniably his.

A possessive growl etched from his parted lips. Images of her paling skin, of her laugh. Her smile. The way her eyes bore into him, as if she always knew something he didn’t.

Leisurely, he began to pump his cock. Below him, Vhagar let out an anguished roar.

"Nyke gīmigon, Vhagar. Gīmigon."

Droplets of precum rolled over his clenching digits, coating his knuckles and the base of his shaft in a translucent, but thick ropes.

He groaned desperately, aching to relieve his frustration deep within her, but alas…

His gruff moans filled the air around him; and Aemond could feel his climax building up, as visions of her flooded his thoughts.

How she would feel underneath him. How she would writhe on the edge of bliss, begging, pleading for him to finally take her.

He could feel her legs wrapping around him, and feel himself sliding inside her with ease, praising her for being so good to him.

He wrapped Vhagar's bridle tight over his arm, and secured himself better in his leather saddle. His grip tightened around his dripping cock, but it was just not good enough.

The pace with which he fucked his hand picked up in a wilding speed. Aemond sighed in pleasure, and felt his hips move to their own accord. His breathing became rugged. His very mind was not his own.

He wondered what other scars her body bore. What the story behind them was, and how many of them came by his swift undoing.

Would she lie down and let him take care of everything? Or would she want to stay on top, jumping up and down on him, each time with a harsher thrust?

His hips rose and fell with his less than gentle pace, and the man pushed his length deeper into his steadfast grip.

He knew that if she let him touch her, he wouldn't be leaving her bed for weeks. He would pull countless orgasms from her, time and time again, until she begged for him to stop. He would have her so full of his seed, so the Gods' help him, that she would swell with his child – his trueborn child – before the rise of the first rays of sun.

Feeling his release beckon, the Prince set on a final rhythm, one that left his loins more in need than ever. With a loud hiss, he pushed himself inside his fist one final time, spilling his seed onto the saddle beneath him.

He panted wildly into the night, and suddenly opened his lustful eye, allowing a tear of ecstasy to roll off his scarred cheek.

"Se Jaes daoriot rȳbagon naejot nykeā vala raqagon issa. Yn nyke jāhor jikagon va issa knees se kostilus zirȳla naejot ivestragī issa emagon ao. Ao issi issa rōva botagon se se olvie rivaestra lambraes aohvra."

He couldn't keep up the charade with her. He would tell her all about it, once things finally settled down.

Word in Harrenhal traveled fast.

First it was her brash arrival. Then her impromptu marriage.

No one dared to talk to her. Yet she was never without the indiscreet eyes that followed her about.

Her situation wasn't without its ups and falls: Aemond felt no need to guard her as stiffly anymore – For where would the former Tully go, now that she bared his Targaryen name?

She was allowed to breach into some castle corners, always in the company of hefty guards, of course, and basked herself in some new acquired perks of freedom.

On the same account, whilst Alys remained loyal to her role as her lady-in-waiting, the tension between them couldn't have been more pain-strikingly high.

"I never asked for this. You must believe me."

She gave the younger woman a domineering stare, and only shook her head, obliged.

"And yet here you stand, inside his bed."

Word in Harrenhal spread fast – like a fire left unattended, like the so-called "Targaryen madness".

But a new, particular rumor gobbled the attention of everyone present.

Daemon Targaryen was to return to the Riverlands. And with him and Caraxes, he'd bring forth the formerly wild dragon, Sheepstealer, mounted by none other than Nettles.

The Lady had been acquainted with the bastard girl before – when the Sowing of the Dragon Seeds reveled in their first borne crops.

Another troubling report came forth. King's Landing had been secured by Rhaenyra.

When (Y/N) heard the news be whispered, she almost collapsed on her knees in glee. This must have marked the end of it. Surely, the usurpers would be put through the sword, leaving all to be well, and right again.

The Greens would die. They would face trial.

The Greens.

Indeed, word in Harrenhal spread fast. And she'd just been made the wife of the cruelest of them all.

Dread filled her insides. Her eyes cast their darkened shadow over the walls of the cursed Keep. A single, fundamental truth raised strongly from her anxious wallowing.

If Daemon Targaryen should find out about her marriage to his nephew, and get to her first… naught of the loyalty of the Riverlords would have a single say in her decided fate. And she would meet her end by the way of his blade, Dark Sister.

Now, more so than ever, it was pivotal for her to escape.

The clock was ticking.

And she was running out of time.

***

Her last day in Harrenhal was spent making plans. She'd rubbed her temples a myriad times, and paced about the room in a dizzying trot.

It wasn’t enough for her to disappear – she had to ensure everyone else thought she was gone.

When Aemond returned, she beckoned his call by jumping to her ready feet. The girl took him in, in his devillished state, and merely raised her brows at him. Whenever she saw him, the nick on her palm and lip itched at her relentlessly.

Neither was willing to recognize aloud what had transpired two moons ago, but both knew the inevitable punishment that would come with Aemond's actions.

He took a seat by the edge of their bed, and took his dagger out to play with it.

In vain he had asked Alys to share with him what she could see. She laid in broken, cradling her forming bump – the one she so desperately tried to hide away from him. The one thing that once meant her protection and raise in rank, now could very well heed out her doom.

Her green eyes raised from the floor below them, and Alys merely shook her head.

"There is fire, my Prince. Fire, and blood, and death."

"Going out to face two dragons is a death sentence." His deep voice rumbled through the silent chamber, "I can't afford that risk anymore with you involved."

And there it was. The silent admission of what he had done.

"We'll have to move from Harrenhal. You'll get to meet Daeron in Oldtown."

Was he sorry for what he did?

"It was about time you got acquainted with the rest of the family."

Aegon's cause was lucky that Storm's End was already too involved. They couldn't turn in their banners to the other front. Not now.

"It's a wonderful idea." She uttered in a glacial tone, barely above a whisper. "When will we depart?"

Sharpened orbs came in contact with the loneness of a purple eye.

The man took in a sparring breath, and hummed at her obedient retreat. The Prince's fist clenched over his cutting wound, and he nodded his head firmly.

"Should we be graced with the Gods' favor, issa jorrāelagon, then on the morrow," He explained, "but no sooner than that."

The girl's brows furrowed in discontent, as Aemond faltered in pressing the matter further. He rubbed the bridge of his nose with the aid of two long fingers, and heavily rose from his seat.

"Don't wait for me tonight. I shall return to you in the morning. I have unfinished business to attend to."

Lack of air. And crippling fear.

Her tiny world had been thrown into the arms of chaos. But everything fell so perfectly into place.

As soon as Aemond had mounted Vhagar, as soon as her father of wings died upon the night's first watch, the woman sprung to her feet, and began her soul's ascent into the pits of the Seven Hells.

She started off by breaking in her tiny mirror, placing a goose feather pillow below and over it, to somehow mask the clefty noise.

Her long hair was the first to go. She began cutting it swiftly, using big and brisk movements to chop off as many of her luscious locks as she possibly could.

She ripped the mattress of the bed open with one of the bigger shards, and revealed Aemond's dried-up shirt, that she had tucked well under after washing it, long preparing it for that occasion.

Her stomach churned as her hand went to her chamber pot. Risking her own deniability, she submerged her digits deep within it, letting out a victorious huff as she brushed across a piece of cold felt.

The insides of the sack revealed fermented meat – putrid, more like. She scattered the final remains of it over the stone floor like a mad-woman, and ripped the latter pages of the book Alys had gifted her.

She would take the passage to the stables, and simply hope for the best.

Her eyes searched feverishly about the cluttered room, but the hammering in her heart stilled only as she gaped upon the lower left corner of the wall full of banners.

There it was. Exactly where Alys told her it was going to be.

She tore into the mattress further, spreading the wool around, and grabbed a hold of a piece of wood from the crackling fire.

May she be forgiven for what she was about to do.

Her shaky hands grasped the lumber strongly, and she let it roll in the middle of the room, allowing it to fall with a loud bang.

***

The sound of wailing screams echoed inside her head, scratching at her ears, to the point of making them almost bleed. The heat of the fire she caused fell over her skimpily clothed back, and the disgust she felt with herself was palpable against her tongue.

With every turn she took, she made herself another promise. She would not rest until the war would see its end. She'd never sleep warmly again, and forever remind herself of the sacrifice she had to make – of all the lives that she undoubtedly ended, if only to meet her selfish ends.

For once, this was not just Aemond's doing. This was her fault all alone.

Blinded by rage, and seething with fury, her feet carried her down the crooked set of stairs. The woman brought a hand up to her face, and coughed wildly in the back of it. She'd have to make a bold turn soon. Then the outside world would heed, and she would be free again.

With just a twinge of luck, the guards should think that whatever was left of her room collapsed upon herself inside. Her burnt hair and clothes would create the wanted look – the meat would add the unmistakable smell of rot and death, and the lack of an actual body would take days to figure out.

And she prayed. She prayed, she prayed, she prayed: that no one else knew of the passages that she was threading through below.

Her eyes could barely see in front of her. Smoke rose to unforgiving levels, and the Lady swore it could be cut even by the dullest knife. As she reached the crossroads of the secret tunnel, her hands came to grapple at the breeches' pockets, turning them inside out – trying to find the torn pages of the book she'd just previously carried.

A sigh of relief rumbled from within her throat, as the pads of her shaking digits stroked across the withered, olden pages.

Her relief would be short lived.

Boney hands snaked around her, and the girl nearly screamed – until the familiar scent of mint and wild berries floored her senses.

"Alys?!" Her voice let out in an exasperated high. "Alys, we need to hurry!"

But her able hands still hesitantly clung to the soft material of her shirt, digging so deeply into it, that she could rip it in a downward pull.

"You –" She began to say, but cut herself short as she momentarily closed her eyes.

No matter what, she couldn’t tell the Lady before her that she'd have sent her upon her death.

"You took a wrong turn. This isn't the right way towards the South Gates."

The adrenaline flooded her veins. Her heart was pumping wildly against her ears. Lady Tully only nodded, failing to process that Alys had, in fact, never given her access to such an option on the crudely drawn map.

"This way, (Y/N) – came quickly!"

Two sets of legs descended further into the murky passages of Harrenhal. At one point, the smoke had gotten so very thick, that both women had to feel their way out, by touching the corners of every tunnel that they surpassed.

When all seemed lost, Alys finally spoke, "Over here!" She yelled out to her, and latched onto Aemond's dampened shirt.

They stumble into each other, as the small opening of the stifling cellar reaches the South Gates. The witch stops hastily on her heel, and the young Lady nearly busts their cover.

A raid of soldiers came flocking out, with what then looked like tens of thousands of squealing maids. So frightened by their own demise, they bumped into the oak doors and onto each other – choosing to, instead of unlocking the main Gates, reach and pull at the other's hairs, cursing loud and wildly.

Alys let out a bemused huff at their perused antics, but her reglament was short lived; as one of the smarter lassies reached for the illustrious piece of wood, and opened the doors with the loudest of creak.

"Now's our chance," The Lady of Riverrun whispered to her fellow escapee, grabbing onto her wrist harshly, and dragging her out and into the light. "Mingle in the crowd, Alys –"

"My Lady, do not stray far –"

The older woman let out a staggering breath, as she raised her skirts to follow suit on the trail left by the hot-headed girl.

She is Elmo's daughter alright, she disarmingly told herself, Just as hopeless and reckless as he once was.

Alys almost tackled her to the ground, as Lady Tully succumbed herself deeper into the burnt out forest. She gripped onto her hands with hers, so harshly, that she'd definitely leave her mark. "I thought I had told you not to stray far."

The breathless form of the lost child before her appeared to be enough to soften a tad of her resolve. "When I tell you something, I expect you to do it."

Whilst chastising her deeply for her foolhardy behavior, the woman searched her pockets, and pushed out two quarter silvers into her trembling hands.

"You'll go towards the Rushing Halls and buy yourself a mule from the Half Calf's Inn."

As the younger Lady nodded feverishly at her late advice, Alys clasped her cheeks with her hands, and brought her head further towards her. "You'll keep a straight line to the Green Fork. You won't stop to eat or drink – you won't stop until you reach Hag's Mire. Make sure to cover the cut on your hand with this." As she spoke, Alys pushed a black glove into her resting hands.

The Bliss of Riverrun threw the witch a bewildered look. Her eyes searched adamantly for hers, and the woman panted out in pure wonder. "How did you know I intended on migrating North?

"I've already seen you do it." She shook her shoulders promptly, "I've already seen you succeed."

Her green eyes softened, if only for a blazing moment; but the crackling of the trees behind them snapped her out of her inward trance. "Don't waste anymore time. Your diversion was smart, but he will try to find you."

The girl reached down, to squeeze her hands, perhaps, in a wordless display of gratitude and affection. Her soft fingers interlaced over her boney knuckles, and Alys muttered a faint blessing over the twisted arch of her furrowed brow.

The Lady turned around, but not before pausing and shooting the witch one last fiery look. "Come with me." She offered determinedly, and shook her head strongly as Alys took a step back. "He'll try to punish someone for it. You're his next available girl." She begged her to see to reason.

"My place remains here. By his side."

(Y/N)'s eyes hardened at her thorough admission, but she strained herself to shoot the wet nurse back with a curt nod.

"I shan't forget what you did for me." She promised her elder with a minute smile.

"A heads-up when you next decide to set the whole stronghold on fire would be most appreciated…!" She lightheartedly told her, despite the obvious wabbling of her lower lip.

(Y/N) nodded, but remained hammered in place for another while. Alys' hand reached to cup over her face, but a brisk moment of clarity was quick to change her mind.

"Go, you foolish girl…!" She snapped, "Make good use of that promise you made."

Her feet began moving on their own accord. Her mind was blazing with all of the unfinished tasks at hand.

She would run towards the Rushing Halls. Buy a mule. Retreat towards Green Fork. Reach the Twins.

Her road shall lead to Winterfell. If Forrest Fray remained the same kind fool that he once was, she should have no trouble sending Cregan Stark a raven.

And if she could reason with Jacaerys' friend, take in his testimony of protection, perhaps her life wasn't lost just yet.

The gusts of wind ran through her shortened and unkempt hair. Aemond's clothes hung loosely over her, and the stench of fire and ash filled her nostrils with something else other than hopeless dread.

Never before in her life, did the girl run so fast.

Taglist:

Translations:

Gevie… = Beautiful;

Gaomagon daor sagon zūgagon, issa dōna jorrāelagon. Nyke kivio ao naejot sagon gīda. = Do not worry, my sweet love. I promised you I would be patient;

Mēre tubis ao jāhor jaelagon issa. = One day you will desire me;

Se Jaes emagon qrimbrōstan issa naejot jorrāelagon ao. = The Gods have cursed me to love you;

Gīda ilagon, Vhagar. Sagon nykeēdrosa... Sȳz hāedar. = Calm down, Vagar. Be still. Good girl;

Jaes, ao istan vēttan syt issa. = Gods, you were made for me;

Sepār jurnegon skorkydoso īlon kostagon fāelor hēnkirī. = Just look how perfectly we fit together;

Dōna hāedar… ȳdra daor hakogon qrīdrughagon hen issa sir = Sweet girl… don't pull away from me now;

Yn nyke istan zarvīzis. Nyke emagon issare sīr sȳz se… sīr, sīr zarvīzis. = But I've been patient. I've been so good and… so, so patient;

Ao aehron raqagon ao ȳdra daor jaelagon bisa... = You act like you don't want this…;

Yn ao jaelagon issa sepār hae olvie. Ao mazilībagon syt issa – sepār hae qosaevaerī. = But you want me just as much. You ache for me – just as badly.

Ÿdra daor dīnagon, issa gevie Dāria. Nyke jāhor dōrī jaelagon naejot ōdrikagon. = Don't cry, my beautiful Princess. I would sooner die than hurt you;

Valyrian Wedding Vows: Blood of two, joined as one, ghostly flame, and song of shadows, two hearts as embers, forged in fourteen fires, a future promised in glass – the stars stand witness, of the vow spoken through time, of darkness and light;

Nyke gīmigon, Vhagar. Gīmigon. = I know Vhagar, I know;

Se Jaes daoriot rȳbagon naejot nykeā vala raqagon issa. Yn nyke jāhor jikagon va issa knees se kostilus zirȳla naejot ivestragī issa emagon ao. Ao issi issa rōva botagon se se olvie rivaestra lambraes aohvra. = The Gods don't listen to men like me. But I would go on my knees and beg them to let me keep you. You were once the bane of my existence… and now, you find yourself the center of it.

#aemond targaryen #aemond x reader #the harshest winters #aemond imagine #aemond fanfiction #jacaerys x reader #jacaerys strong #house of the dragon #jacaerys valaryon #jacaerys imagine #jacaerys angst #aemond smut #bookcanon aemond targaryen #dark aemond x reader #dark aemond targaryen #aemond x you #aemond x y/n #yandere aegon targaryen #unhinged aemond yep yep

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blueskylinesx · 5 months ago

Text

Tomato Red Chapter 3

Parings: Jesse Cash x Female Reader

Warnings/Triggers: Language, anxiety/nervousness, sexual tension, fluff, masturbation, smut, self doubt, friends to lovers.

Summary: The local cafe/bookstore down the street was Jesse's usual hang out spot where he spent hours reading books and working on music. Until one day when he meets a new barista working the bookstore cafe. Suddenly, Jesse's reasons for visiting the bookstore down the road were no longer just for reading and work... but were suddenly meant for much more.

Author’s Note: I intended on having this chapter posted way sooner. I greatly apologize for the delay! This chapter took me a bit longer to write since life kept getting in the way. But, it’s a long one so I hope that makes up for it. 🩵 I used this little clip of Jesse from the ERRA Cure album videos because this is the EXACT look I was going for in this chapter. Enjoy loves!

Tag List: @thefallennightmare @xxkittenkissesxx @collidewiththesav @thatchickwiththecamera @cncohshit @lma1986 @arkiliastuff @lonelydragonlady

If you would like to be added to the tags list let me know! I would be happy to do so!😊

Thank you all SO fucking much for all the support on Tomato Red. It means the absolute world to me. Writing this story has been so fun and helps keep my mind occupied. I love you all so so so much!☕️🍅

JESSE

Holy shit. What was in those orange scones? I thought to myself.

I sat in the backseat of Michael’s car. Holding the paper cup from the cafe in between my hands that rested in my lap. Replaying all of what just happened in my mind while looking out of the window as the familiar buildings and cars passed by.

Never getting her smile or her beautiful greenish-blue tinted eyes out of my mind. I glanced back down at the cup in my lap and traced my thumb over the black letters that Y/N wrote on the back. A smile spreading across my face every time I read it.

“This is my sister's favorite drink and she’s the only one I make this special for. But, you seem pretty special yourself so this only seemed fitting. I hope you like it.

P.S that hat looks cute on you.”

Followed by her number that was written out directly underneath it. With a small black flower that she drew next to it.

I usually am never blunt enough to ask a girl for her number. Especially right to her face. Maybe it was the added pressure from the guys or whatever magic Y/N put into those scones. But, whatever it was, I was grateful for the confidence boost it gave me.

I now have Y/N’s phone number.

“Soooo, you two seemed to be getting pretty cozy over there.” Michaels voice from the driver's seat caused me to look up to meet his gaze in the rearview mirror.

“Did they kiss? I couldn’t tell if they kissed or not.” Jolly asked from the seat next to me.

Oh boy, we just left the cafe only ten minutes ago and they're already starting.

“Nah, I don't think they kissed. I was sitting right in front of Jesse and I definitely would have seen it.” Noah said from the front passenger seat.

“Hey! Do you think maybe you could slide your chair up a few inches man? You’re practically sitting in the backseat with me and Jesse. My legs are starting to cramp.” Jolly interrupted while pushing on the back of Noah’s chair.

Noah reached down to pull the lever from under the seat and used his legs to push the seat further back, slamming into Jolly’s legs.

“Oh, is this better?” Noah asked with a sly smirk on his face.

Jolly responded with a long frustrated sigh, “You’re such a dick.” Then wrapped his legs around the seat, resting his feet onto Noah’s chest, and then swinging both of his arms around the back of his head to rest his head onto them. “Ahhh, this is much better.”

“Dude! You’ve got your fucking shoes on and this is one of my favorite shirts! You’re gonna get Jesus all dirty! Have some respect man!” Noah exclaimed while throwing Jolly’s feet off of him.

“Then move your seat up!”

“Yo! You guys are gonna break my car!” Michael shouted while pulling into the driveway of our house.

“It’s like living with toddlers, I swear. I said as Michael put the car in park. I then turned to grab the door handle and stepped out onto the pavement.

Jolly and Noah were still bickering behind me as I made my way up to the front door. Then inserted my house key into the lock and stepped inside.

“Oh yuck, it’s way too hot in here. Who the fuck touched the AC?” Noah proclaimed while stepping into the house after me and walking over to the thermostat that sat on the wall.

Michael who was now standing next to me threw his hands up, “It was me! I woke up this morning and could see my fucking breath dude. That’s not normal! I’m going to get a cold.”

“Oh quit being a fucking pussy.” Noah responded while clicking the AC back down. “My session with Ash is in thirty minutes and I swear if this thing is touched by the time I get back I’m fucking shit up.”

I headed towards the staircase to make my way up to my bedroom. Leaving the voices of my bickering roommates to fade into the background. I then made my way down the hall and towards the first door on the right. Grabbing the silver handle of my bedroom door and then stepping inside.

Once in my room I kicked off my black boots and slid them to the side of the door with my foot. I then set the white paper cup from earlier on the nightstand next to my bed and then plopped down on the mattress before me.

Once situated in bed I turned over to grab my phone out of my back pocket then looked over at the cup sitting next to me on the nightstand.

Opening up the contacts tab of my phone, I clicked the create new contact button. Entering in Y/N’s number and then saving the contact as, "The most beautiful girl in the world.”

READER

The moment I stepped back behind the counter after speaking with Jesse, Kate was immediately on me. Dying to hear all about mine and Jesse’s conversation and all of the details.

It was Sunday so the cafe and bookstore closed early. It was the only day of the week we closed at 6pm.

Since Sunday’s typically were the slowest day of the week for us Kate always scheduled me and her to close together.

While we spent the rest of our shifts cleaning up and closing down the cafe, I told Kate all about mine and Jesse’s conversation and how he had asked me for my number. To which I’m sure my face was bright red the entire time.

I then told her about me writing my number on the cup but left out the details about the other note I had written above it. That was for Jesse only.

“Soooo, do you think he’s going to text you tonight?” Kate asked with anticipation while she was counting down the register drawer.

“I don’t know, but I sure hope so. He seemed really happy after I wrote my number down for him.”

“Well of course he did, Y’N. You’re gorgeous and you’re one of the kindest people I know. He would be dumb to pass up any opportunity with you.”

“That’s very sweet of you but, you’re my sister and you’re supposed to say those things.” I responded back with a chuckle.

“I don’t have to say anything. It's true. You’re not like the other typical girls here in LA. No shade to them, but you have more interests than shopping, Cesar salads, and Starbucks.”

I let out another chuckle at her response while finishing wiping down the espresso machines.

“Jesse lucked out by crossing paths with you, Y/N. Like I said before, he would be stupid to pass up something like this. But my gut tells me that Jesse also isn’t like the other typical guys in LA. You know my gut feeling is usually never wrong.”

I hated to admit it but it was true. Kate always had a way of knowing things. I’ve always joked with her about how she chose the wrong degree to pursue and instead of going to school to become an art teacher, she should have gone to school to become a detective.

I also joked with her that if the art teacher thing didn’t pan out, at least she would have a back up plan. She also never found that one very funny either.

My phone suddenly vibrated in my front hoodie pocket and I eagerly pulled it out, almost dropping it onto the floor.

“Nice catch.” Kate said while she turned to look back over at me after putting the cash from the drawer in the safe envelope.

“Thank you”, I replied back while clicking open my phone to quickly scroll past my Lock Screen and over to my notifications.

Medication Log

This is your reminder to take your 7pm “Birth Control”.

With a disappointing sigh I clicked the button on the side of my phone to turn off the screen and slid it back into my front hoodie pocket.

“I take it that it wasn't a text from Jesse?” Kate asked while taking off her apron.

“No, just my birth control reminder.”

“I’m sorry sis, maybe by the time we get back home he’ll send a text? He might not want to come off desperate or anything. He’s a guy, they’re usually always overthinking those kinds of things.”

Untying my apron and wrapping it over my arm, I turned to click off the cafe lights and then opened the silver door for me and Kate to walk through.

We then made our way to the back office where we kept our belongings and I grabbed my purse out from under the desk and pulled my car keys out of the front pocket.

Looping them around my finger and then motioning towards the back cafe door and out into the parking lot.

With Kate behind me she turned to insert her cafe key into the lock, double checking and twisting the knob a few times to make sure the door was securely locked before we both headed towards our cars.

Before opening her car door Kate hollered over at me, “Hey don’t let it get to you too much. He could just be busy or something. When we get home I’ll order us a pizza and we can watch those cheesy paranormal investigation shows you love so much.”

“Yeah”, I sighed into my car door. “You’re right, he’s probably just busy or something. But pizza sounds good. I follow you tonight on the way home?” I asked before finally opening my car door to sit inside.

“Sounds like a plan!” Kate yelled out from her window before starting her car and backing out of the parking space.

I inserted and turned the keys into the ignition and then backed out of the parking space to follow behind Kate towards our apartment.

READER

Once me and Kate got back home I immediately headed towards my bedroom. Thankfully my bathroom was attached to my room so once I was inside I stripped myself out of my coffee scented work clothes.

Tossing them into the hamper inside my closet and then making my way to the bathroom to turn the shower on, twisting the handle all the way to the hot side.

Before getting undressed I had set my phone on my nightstand and plugged it into the charger. Hopeful that I would receive a text from a certain someone. So I wanted to make sure my battery was fully charged. Just in case.

I pulled the shower curtain back once the bathroom was filled up with enough steam letting me know the water was hot. I then stepped inside and let the water run over my back and my face.

When my eyes shut I immediately envisioned Jesse’s face in my mind.

I began to wonder what it would be like if he was here, in the shower with me right now. How he would look standing in front of me, completely naked, while the hot water dripped down the tattoos that covered his skin.

My hands began to lower from my face and slowly down my neck making way to my chest. The thoughts kept coming, each time growing louder and louder, all filled with Jesse.

How if he were here he’d have his arms wrapped around me, leaving kisses all over my shoulders and back. Holding me tightly against him while our bodies molded perfectly to each other.

Then how he’d have me pinned up against the tiled wall, holding me up with both of his hands on my ass, fucking ruthlessly into me. The both of us moaning into each other's mouths while the hot water continues to fall on both our bodies.

My hands now past my breasts sliding further down my core and making their way to my pussy. I slipped two fingers between my folds and I was soaked. These thoughts of Jesse alone set both my heart and my pussy on fire.

I inserted both fingers inside of me and began to pump them in and out while continuing to picture Jesse having his way with me. How he’d slap my ass and bite my neck, and how I would lightly scratch my nails into his back and tug on his curls while his cock stretched me open.

My fingers moved faster and faster and I could feel my core tightening. I bit my bottom lip and desperately wished that it was Jesse’s fingers inside of me right now rather than my own.

Feeling my release building up I let out a moan while my orgasm shook through me. My legs almost buckling out from under me.

It had been a long time since I last masturbated. With all the hours I was working at the cafe I was always too tired to even think about pleasuring myself these last few weeks.

“This man is going to be a problem.” I said out loud to myself while pulling the shower head down from the holder.

I began to run the water over the rest of my body so I could finally begin washing my hair and my body.

JESSE

Noah came back from his session with Ash about two hours ago. While he was gone Michael, Jolly, and I played Grand Theft Auto out on the living room TV.

All of us seated on the couch laughing together, spending way too long putting in cheat codes to fall out of the sky and trying to land into the swimming pools.

Michael had mentioned ordering Chinese food earlier so I sent Noah a text asking if wanted anything.

Which ended up working out since the martial arts academy where Noah trains is in the same complex as the Chinese restaurant we always order from. So he was able to walk next door and grab the food before coming back home.

All of us were seated in the kitchen. Noah was sitting on top of the counter still in his kickboxing shorts and black tee shirt from his session earlier. Michael sat on the island countertop across from Noah in just a pair of blue and white plaid pajama pants.

Jolly and I sat at the kitchen table together. Jolly was also wearing a pair of solid black pajama pants and a white tank top. I had changed into a pair of blue sweatpants and a gray tee shirt earlier before coming down to play GTA with the boys.

“So Jesse, have you texted Y\N yet?” Noah asked while taking a bite out of his lo-mein.

I’ve been thinking about texting her since the second I got into the backseat of Michael’s car.

“No not yet, I know she was busy at work and I didn’t want to be a bother. I think the cafe closes around nine or ten? So I was waiting until around then to shoot her a text.”

“My guy!” Jolly shouted with his mouth full from the egg roll he just bit into. “Smart to text her when she isn’t distracted. That way you can get a better conversation going.”

“For once Jolly is making sense.” Michael started with a laugh. “I’m proud of you Jesse. She seems really into you man and you both seemed real into each other back at the cafe. I can’t remember a time when you weren’t out in public somewhere shaking with nerves.”

“I’m not always shaking with nerves when I’m out in public.”

“Being on stage with ERRA doesn’t count man.” Jolly chimed in.

“Hey that’s different Jolly you know that.” Noah stated while going to take another bite of his fried rice.

I brushed a hand over my face before going back in to take a bite of my wonton soup. “Gee guys, thanks for the pep talk.”

“We’re just giving you a hard time Jess. Seriously we’re super stoked for you man. She seems like a cool girl and you two really hit it off.” Michael said while hopping down off the counter and placing the lid back on top of his chicken chow mein.

“Thanks man, she is a super cool girl and I can’t wait to talk to her and learn more about her.”

“Just take it slow, I know you know what you’re doing. But take it from me dude, don’t jump into something super fast without really analyzing the situation from all points.” Noah added.

“I appreciate all the words of advice and encouragement guys. Seriously. Even though you all get on my goddamn nerves I love you and it’s nice to share a space with you all sometimes.”

“Sometimes?!?!l" Jolly blurted out with his mouth still full of food. “Don’t act like I’m not your favorite roommate Jess. Who else would jump off the roof with you and into the pool at 3am?”

“That’s very true. Noah was too busy getting his beauty sleep and Michael was too much of a pussy to step out onto the roof.”

“Hey! It had rained earlier that day and the roof was wet. I was not about to put myself in a dangerous situation where I could have slipped and potentially died.” Michael responded while throwing his hands up.

“Such a drama queen.” I said with a laugh.

I clicked the lid back onto the wonton soup that was left over in the container. Then I made my way towards the fridge to set the container of soup inside on the top shelf next to the other items of food that were mine.

“Well, it’s time for this old man to get to bed.”

“You mean to go text Y/N?” Noah responded.

With a smile on my face and a roll of my eyes I turned from my three roommates and made my way out of the kitchen and back into the front room to ascend up the stairs and towards my bedroom.

“Have fun!!” The three of them all called out from the kitchen.

Making my way back into my room, I pulled my phone out from my pocket and pulled up Y/N’s contact. Clicking on the message bubble underneath her contact photo, working my fingers against the screen to type out a message.

I then sat down in my black office chair and set my phone screen side up on the desk before me. Then I rolled the chair over to grab my red Ibanez guitar off the stand to play a few notes to keep my anxious mind occupied while I awaited a response back.

READER

Finishing with washing my body I turned to shut the shower off. Wringing the water out from my hair before stepping onto the black bath mat.

I reached over to the towel rack and grabbed my lavender colored hair towel bending over to wrap my hair up first. Once my hair was securely wrapped I then grabbed the larger green towel to wrap around my body.

Once covered I made my way to the sink and did my nighttime face routine. Finishing it off brushing my teeth and with a garggle of mouth wash.

I then opened the bathroom door fully and stepped out into the chilly air of my bedroom. The goosebumps casting over my body being a definite sign Kate had already set the thermostat down to the usual temperature of Alaska for the night.

I walked over to my dresser to open the smallest drawer on the top that was filled with all my panties. Grabbing the first pair on top which was a sheer black thong. I then bent down to the third drawer which was filled with all my t-shirts and pulled out an old oversized rainbow tie dye shirt I got forever ago back in Florida.

Then finished my nighttime pajama set with a pair of fluffy pink socks to help keep my toes from going numb in the middle of the light.

Before making my way into bed I grabbed my phone off the nightstand that was sitting face down. I took a deep breath before turning it over to click the screen on. A text notification suddenly showing up across the top of the screen from a number I didn’t recognize.

Was this him?

With my heart beat picking up pace I scrolled up on my Home Screen and clicked the text notification to pull up the text thread.

From Unknown Number: Hey you, I was going to text you earlier but I figured you were busy with work. Hopefully it’s not too late and I didn’t wake you. I just couldn’t stop thinking about you and those delicious orange scones. Hope to hear back from you soon. - Jesse😊

A giant smile spread across my face as I quickly saved Jesse’s number to my phone. Then eagerly typed back my response.

Y/N: Hey, I’m sorry for responding back late. I was in the shower and just now got out and saw your text. Work thankfully wasn’t too busy after you guys left. Sundays are usually pretty easy since we close at 6 and it’s always me & Kate closing. But, I’m definitely going to have to make a mental note to make an extra plate of orange scones, just for you.😉

JESSE🌺: You don’t ever have to apologize for responding late. Admittedly, I’m a bad texter myself so I totally get it. But, I’ll try to make a habit out of becoming better, especially now that I’m texting you. Also will definitely be looking forward to my own special plate of Y’N scones.

Y/N: You know how to make a girl blush, Jesse. I’m glad you liked the scones. Did the matcha latte come to meet the same standards? You can be honest…

JESSE🌺: I’ve never had a matcha latte before today and I honestly didn’t even know what that was. But, I will never order any other drink again. Hands down the best latte I’ve ever had. Thank you for helping me get outside the box and trying something new.

God, this man was making my heart flutter. I swear it could have beaten right out of my chest.

Y/N: Are you sure? Or are you just saying that to try to get on my good side?🤔

JESSE🌺: Wait. Was I not on your good side before?🥺

Y/N: Hmm…Well, as long as you keep coming to see me then yes, I’d say that you’re on my good side, Jesse.

JESSE🌺: Are you working tomorrow? I’m craving an orange scone and a matcha latte… and another face to face conversation with the beautiful girl that made them for me.

My cheeks instantly flushed pink and I could feel the warmth building from within them. My stomach was doing flips and every time a new message from Jesse came through I would let out a little squeal. I forgot what it felt like to feel like this for someone. Jesse made me giddy with excitement and every time I talked to him, I just couldn’t help but smile the entire time.

I took a deep breath in an attempt to help calm my nerves before texting Jesse back.

Y/N: I’m actually off tomorrow, which is a miracle. I worked the last three weekends straight to help Kate out with the morning bakes so she promised to give me this weekend off.

I bit my bottom lip and let my fingers dance over the keyboard of my phone. Feeling braver than normal, I typed out another text and quickly hit send before allowing myself to overthink the situation and backing out.

Y/N: But, I don’t have any plans or anything. If you wanted to maybe catch up for a bit, if you’re free?

Oh god. Was that too forward? Is he going to think that I’m weird? Already asking to hang out outside of the cafe only after our two short conversations. I shouldn’t have sent the second text. I got too confident and now I probably blew it.

My phone suddenly buzzed against my chest and I eagerly flipped it over to open the incoming text message.

JESSE🌺: Did you read my mind? I was just going to ask you if you wanted to go grab lunch together since you aren’t working. Do you like sushi?

My giant smile instantly returned.

Y/N: Great minds think alike I guess! But yes, I love sushi!😊

JESSE🌺: There’s this really great sushi place that’s a few minutes from my place. Me and my roommates eat there all the time and it’s one of my favorite spots in all of LA. If you’d like I can pick you up and we could ride over together? If you’re comfortable of course.

Another squeal left my mouth and I excitedly tapped away my response.

Y/N: That’s very kind of you, Jesse. I would love to ride over together! What time should I be ready?

JESSE🌺: I can pick you up at 11:30? Then we’d make it there right on time at noon for lunch. If that works for you.😊

Y/N: 11:30 is perfect! I’m looking forward to it!

JESSE🌺: Me too, and I was already having a hard time keeping you off my mind… Now I’ll be up all night counting down the hours until I’m seeing you again.

Y/N: You really are a charmer, Jesse. I’ll be counting down the hours until I see you again too, handsome. Thank you again for inviting me out.🥰

JESSE🌺: Anytime, gorgeous. I hope you have sweet dreams. I’m going to attempt to force myself to go to sleep so that the time goes by quicker. Can’t wait to see you tomorrow.

Y/N: Sweet dreams to you too, Jesse. I can’t wait to see you tomorrow as well. Good night.❤️

I rolled over on my side to face my nightstand once again. Grabbing my charger off the top and inserting it into the bottom of my phone to charge.

I opened up my alarm app and set an alarm for 9am to ensure I had plenty of time to wake up and get ready for tomorrow.

With my alarm set, I rolled back over in bed, kicking my feet under the covers with excitement. The cold air that filled my room suddenly forced itself under the covers once I kicked my feet and I immediately tucked the blankets back underneath me in a makeshift cocoon.

With one arm lazily laying on the pillow above my head I closed my eyes, with a big smile still spread across my face, and attempted to fall asleep so I could be greeted with the sight of Jesse once again.

JESSE

Holy fuck. I did it, I’m taking Y/N out for lunch tomorrow.

Throughout texting with Y/N I had made my way back over and into my bed. I was tucked under my dark green comforter and my room was casted in a cozy glow from the red lava lamp that sat atop my dresser.

Me and Y/N had spent the last few hours texting back and forth. Her last message came through at almost 1am.

I laid here in bed in an attempt to drift off to sleep once I shut my eyes. But, my mind kept wandering back to that first text message I had received from her.

“Hey, I’m sorry for responding back late. I was in the shower and just now got out and saw your text. Work thankfully wasn’t too busy after you guys left. Sundays are usually pretty easy since we close at 6 and it’s always me & Kate closing. But, I’m definitely going to have to make a mental note to make an extra plate of orange scones, just for you.😉”

One specific part replaying in my mind.

“I was in the shower.”

Fuck. It’s not right to be thinking those thoughts about her. What would she think if she knew that the last few hours while talking with me, I couldn’t help myself from picturing what she looked like standing there, with the warm water running down her naked form.

I shook my head in an attempt to keep the thoughts out.

But it was unsuccessful. They immediately came crawling right back the second I closed my eyes again. I could feel my cock twitching underneath the covers from within my briefs.

What was this hold she had over me? No other girl has ever consumed me like she does. She’s intoxicating and my soul longs to get its fix, never fully satisfied, always desperately longing for more.

More time with her, more conversations with her, more of her in general.

Images of Y/N standing bare in the shower kept flashing in my mind. Water running down her slender form, the steam casting a warm glow all over her body.

I licked my lips at the thought alone. Wishing so desperately this vision was real. That I was standing there in that shower with her.

My eyes tracing over every single curve. Dragging my hands over her entire form and leaving sweet kisses all over her body.

My cock was hard and I could feel it pressing even harder against my briefs. Begging for release.

I ran my hand under the covers, pulling my cock out, and firmly grasped it, beginning to slowly stroke up and down.

Grunts creeped out of my mouth as I continued to stroke my cock up and down. Taking my thumb to brush along the top, gathering the precum that was oozing out of the slit.

I pictured myself behind Y/N, having her bent over with both of her hands placed on both sides of the tub, bare ass up in the air for me as the warm water fell over both of our bodies.

My hands gripping the sides of her hips and as I dig my fingertips into her to keep my grip.

Her breasts motioning back and forth from me fucking her from behind, droplets of water falling from her nipples and onto the tub below us.

Y/N’s soft moans echoing off of the bathroom walls, sounding like pure bliss to my ears. With the sounds of our skin smacking against each other.

“Oh god Jesse. Your cock feels so fucking good inside of me.”

I smack her ass, leaving a light pink hand print on the side of her left ass cheek.

My strokes getting faster now and my breathing becoming erratic. My heart was pumping with adrenaline and I knew it wouldn’t be much longer before my release spilled into my hands.

My stomach began to tighten and my orgasm seconds away from completely overtaking me.

“YO JESSE!” Three loud bangs to the front of my bedroom door.

I sprang up in my bed, knocking the sheets off of me and onto the floor, my heart almost falling right out of my ass.

“We know your ass isn’t asleep! Whenever you’re done in there texting your little crush get your ass downstairs! Noah wants to rewatch Game Of Thrones!” Michael shouted from the opposite side of my door.

“Uhh, uh, yeah, just give me a minute and I’ll be down there.”

“Why do you sound so out of breath? Oh no, don’t tell me… GUYS I THINK JESSE IS BEATING HIS MEAT!!”

Just like that, my dignity was gone along with my orgasm.

“Fuck off! I was just tidying up my room and the sheets were giving me a hard time. The top right corner kept coming off.” I replied while still trying to catch my breath.

“Riiiiiiight. Well we’ll be on the couch waiting while you get your dick back in your pants.”

“My dick is in my pants idiot.” I replied while pulling my sweatpants back up my legs and over my briefs.

With a long sigh I quickly patted down my messy bed ridden hair and adjusted my shirt. With everything back in order and my breathing back to normal I headed over towards my bedroom door and opened it. Being greeted by Michael who was leaning against the wall with a sly smirk on his face.

Ignoring him, I immediately turned towards the staircase and made my way down to the front room where my two other roommates were laying on the couch with the Game Of Thrones opening playing on the TV.

READER

My alarm abruptly woke me from my deep sleep. I turned over to silence it and to look at the time. The clock read back 9am.

I set my phone back down on the nightstand before me and stretched out my arms above my head and let out a long yawn.

Mine and Jesse’s text messages replaying in my mind from last night.

I finally rolled out of bed, the excitement of mine and Jesse’s lunch date giving me all the energy I needed to not snooze my alarm another four times like usual.

I sprang over to my closet and clicked on the light switch. Rummaging through all my clothes on the hangers before me. I wanted to make sure my outfit was perfect for today.

Something that would be cute and show effort, but nothing too crazy that made me look like I was trying too hard.

I finally came across one of my short black dresses and I pulled it out to take a full look at it. Not remembering the last time I had worn it. Which was a real shame because I had forgotten how much I loved this dress.

I turned to the opposite side of the closet where I kept my long sleeves and sweaters hung. I reached for a white turtleneck long sleeve. I wanted to pair it with the dress to look a little more formal for a lunch date.

With the dress and shirt both in my hands I made my way back out to my bedroom and tossed them on the bed. I then made my way over to my dresser along the wall and reached into my sock drawer to pull out a pair of black sheer tights.

Walking back over to my bed, I quickly undressed out of my oversized shirt and socks from last night and began dressing in the clothes before me.

With everything on I walked over to my black sticker covered mirror that hung on the wall beside my closet.

Taking a good once over at my outfit. I was happy with how everything looked. I then made my way back into my closet to pull out my black platform doc marten boots.

Grabbing a pair of high black socks out of my dresser and putting them on before slipping into my doc’s.

My outfit now finally complete. I made my way into my bathroom and brushed my teeth and settled on putting my hair into a braid. It was a warmer day in LA today and with the longsleeve and tights I knew it would be too hot to wear it down.

Once back into my bedroom I decided to throw on some jewelry. I opened the small jewelry box that sat on top of my dresser and grabbed out a few silver rings and a simple silver chain necklace. I then grabbed out a pair of my black dangle flower earrings and did one last look over in the mirror.

Adjusting my hair to sit on my right shoulder, I smoothed down my dress and then grabbed my black bag off the hook from the back of my bedroom door. Then sprayed myself all over with my coconut vanilla body mist.

Before grabbing the door handle I quickly checked my phone. The time now showing 10:15am. I let out a small nervous breath and shook out the nerves before finally opening my door and stepping out into the hallway.

I ended up falling asleep after texting Jesse so I never made it back out to watch Ghost Adventures with Kate last night.

Thankfully she worked this morning so I was able to avoid her wrath until later tonight when I got back home.

I walked over to the kitchen to grab a bottle of water out from the fridge. Taking a few sips to help with the nervous knots that were forming in my stomach.

My text tone suddenly went off from my phone in the front pocket of my purse. I reached in to grab it and pulled it out to be greeted with a text message from Jesse showing across the screen.

Those giddy butterflies suddenly forming again.

JESSE🌺: Good morning, gorgeous. I just wanted to let you know that I’m walking out my front door and heading to my car now. Could you text me your address?

The excited squeals also came back as I typed out my address and hit send.

JESSE🌺: GPS says I should be there in 15! Looking forward to lunch with you. See you soon.😊

Y/N: Looking forward to lunch with you too, handsome. Thank you again for coming to pick me up. See you soon!🩵

JESSE

Letting out a deep breath I inserted my keys into the ignition and turned on the car. The AC immediately blasting me in the face.

I reached over to the center console below the touch screen radio and twisted the AC knob down a few clicks.

With Y/N’s address loaded up on my phone, I reached for my phone chord and plugged it in to showcase the GPS on the center screen before me.

Before clicking go, I did a quick look over in the rear view mirror and adjusted my hair. Making sure my curls were in order.

I patted down the gray corduroy botton up that I layered over one of my white t-shirts and dusted off a few pieces of lint from the top of my jeans.

Finally hitting go on the maps app on my phone the directions loaded up onto the screen and I put my car in reverse to back out of the driveway and onto the street.

Y/N’s place was only a fifteen minute drive from my house.

I pulled into her apartment complex, driving through the street slowly to make sure I didn’t pass up her building. The nerves now starting to set in.

What if she decides not to come out? Is my outfit okay? Should I have worn something else? Is my cologne strong enough? I hope I smell okay…

Shaking the thoughts out in an attempt to clear my head I appeared in front of Y/N’s apartment building. Parking in one of the guest spots out front.

I reached over for my phone and pulled up her contact to send her a quick text message letting her know that I was outside.

Y/N: Coming down now!😊

Oh shit. She’s coming. This is actually happening.

Letting out another deep breath I clicked the unlock botton for the doors and anxiously waited for her to make her way into the parking lot while nervously tapping my hands on my knees.

When all of a sudden she appeared out from the staircase in the center of the building. The sunlight bouncing off of her hair that she put into a braid, resting on her shoulder.

Her pale skin glistened with every step she took and the black dress she wore hugged her body perfectly. The black sheer tights wrapped around her toned legs and I licked my lips at the sight of her. She was fucking beautiful.

As she neared closer I quickly reached for my door handle and stepped out of my car. Making my way over to the passenger side to open the door for her.

The bouquet of pink flowers I had purchased earlier this morning rested on the passenger seat.

“Hey you!” Y/N said with a smile on her face as she came up next to me. “You didn’t have to get the door for me Jesse, I feel bad that you had to get out of the cool AC.”

I returned a smile back to her. “I would never make a girl as gorgeous as you open the door while I just sat inside the car.”

Y/N bent down, her face lighting up as soon as she saw the flowers sitting in the seat. “Oh my gosh Jesse, are these for me?”

“Yeah, I hope it’s not too much. I saw them today when I was out doing some grocery shopping with my roommates. That shade of pink is one of the most beautiful I’ve seen and it reminded me of you.”

I swallowed hard, hoping that what I just said didn’t sound weird. But it was true, I meant every word.

With Y/N now sitting in the seat with the flowers resting in her lap I closed the door behind her and made my way back over to the driver's side. Climbing in and pulling my seatbelt down over me.

“Jesse, thank you so much. These are beautiful!” Y/N brought the flowers up to her nose to take a small whiff. “And they smell incredible.”

“You don’t have to thank me. If anything I should be thanking you for giving me the pleasure of taking you out to lunch today.” I pulled up the address of the sushi place on my phone and put it on the center console screen.

As I put the car in reverse I glanced back over at Y/N who was sitting with her legs crossed. Her legs looked so sexy in those tights and thoughts of rubbing my hands over her thighs quickly rushed into my brain.

This was the first time I had seen her outside of the cafe and the first time her legs weren’t hidden behind her usual work attire. It was driving me crazy.

“I hope you don’t mind me saying this, but you look absolutely beautiful Y/N.”

She looked over at me and I could feel her gaze casting against the side of my cheek as I stared at the road before me. Both hands nervously gripping the steering wheel.

“That’s very sweet Jesse. I hope you don’t mind me saying this either, but you look very handsome. I really like that shirt on you.”

I wasn’t sure if her licking her lips after saying that was real or if I had imagined it. However, it didn’t help the thoughts that kept creeping into the back of my mind. Or the temptation of stealing glances at her crossed legs.

I could feel my cock starting to get hard from under my jeans and I adjusted in my seat in an attempt to hide it.

The AC caused a few of her stray hairs to blow around and as she tucked them behind her ears I began to pick up on the smell of her vanilla coconut perfume. The same scent that hit me like a ton of bricks the first time she walked past me that first day I saw her.

“Is the AC okay? I asked while clearing my throat. “If it’s too hot or too cold I can adjust it.”

“Oh no, it’s perfect actually.”

She was perfect.

“I seriously can not thank you enough Jesse, for all of this. This is the sweetest thing anyone has ever done for me.”

I made a left turn to pull into the parking lot and pulled into one of the spots directly out front of the sushi restaurant.

“You don’t have to thank me, Y/N. Seriously, it’s the least that I could do. I can’t thank you enough for coming to get sushi with me. I’ve been looking forward to this since you agreed last night.

I put the car in park and clicked off my seatbelt. After turning the car off I reached for the door handle and stepped outside onto the pavement. Then I made my way around the car and back at the passenger side to open Y/N’s door.

“Do you think the flowers will be ok in the car while we eat?” She asked while stepping out and flattening down her dress.

“We shouldn't be in there for too long so they should be fine.”

“Okay, they’re just so beautiful I don’t want anything to happen to them.” She said with a light giggle and then placed the flowers gently back down in the seat. Then reached for the seatbelt and clicked it over the bouquet.

“There. That way they’re extra secure.”

She was the cutest damn thing.

I closed the door behind her and motioned towards the door of the restaurant before us.

“Have you ever been here before?”

Y/N walked right next to me, our arms gently brushing against each other as we inched closer to the front door of the restaurant.

“No, never. This will be my first time so I’m super excited.”

A warm feeling crept over me knowing that this will be Y/N’s first time eating here and that it was with me. This was one of my usual go-to places and I was happy to be the first one she was going to experience it with.

I reached for the door handle and pulled the door open with my hand hovering over Y/N’s back as she stepped inside. The cool breeze from the AC once again blew her scent into me. My mouth always watering from the smell of vanilla coconut.

“Table for two?” The young lady from behind the counter asked as we approached the hostess stand.

“Yes please.” I replied.

She grabbed two menus out from the menu holder beside her and motioned for us to follow behind her.

Me and Y/N yet again walking side by side as our arms gently grazed up against one another.

The lady set the menus down on the table before us. “Your server will be over shortly.”

“Thank you.” I let Y/N climb into the booth first, picking which side she preferred. Once she was seated, I scooted into the booth opposite of her. I thought about sitting on the same side as her, but worried that may be too much for our first time hanging out together.

I didn’t want to do anything to make her uncomfortable or to overstep any boundaries.

Y/N picked the menu off of the table, “Oh my gosh, everything here looks delicious.” She then flipped the menu over to the back, “They even have gyoza! I can already tell I’m going to love this place.”

“Yeah, their gyoza is really good! I used to get it all the time but I could never finish it by myself so I always ended up giving the rest to one of my roommates.”

“Would you wanna share an order with me?” She asked while peering up from the menu.

I looked up to meet her gaze, “Yeah, I’d love to.”

Our server suddenly appeared at our table and laid out a stack of napkins before us, “Sorry for the wait guys, I just got double sat so I’m trying to get caught up. Thank you for being so patient. My name is Amanda and I’ll be your server this afternoon. What can I get you two to drink?”

“Oh, no worries at all! Could I have a sweet tea please?” Y/N asked.

“Ok one sweet tea and would you like lemon?”

“No thank you.”

“What can I get for you, sir?” Amanda turned her gaze away from Y/N to now look at me.

“Can I have a Coke please?”

“Alrighty one Coke. Did you guys want to start with any appetizers?”

“Yes please, we wanted to do an order of the gyoza.” I replied back.

“Would you guys like them steamed or fried?”

I glanced over at Y/N, “ladies choice.”

Y/N smiled and a slight pink hue flushed to her cheeks, “Hm, I think I’m feeling rebellious today, let’s go with fried.”

“Ok so I’ve got one sweet tea with no lemon, a Coca Cola, and an order of fried gyoza. That sound right?”

“Perfect.” I answered.

“Alright I’ll go put the gyoza in and I’ll be right back with your drinks.”

Amanda stuffed her server book into the front pocket of her apron before heading back over to the kitchen.

“It’s so cute in here, I can’t believe I’ve never checked this place out before! Especially since it’s right down the road from mine and Kate’s apartment.”

I looked around at all the Japanese themed decor and the large bonsai tree that sat in the center of the restaurant.

“Yeah it is huh? I typically order take out whenever I eat here so I sort of forgot how this place looks from the inside. Kinda feels like this is my first time here too.” I joked.

Amanda appeared back at the table with our drinks and set them down before us with two straws. “Your gyoza will be out in just a few. Have we decided on what we are having for lunch?”

“Ladies first.” I motioned over towards Y/N.

“Can I please do one of the California rolls and then one of the spicy tuna rolls?”

“Good choice.” Amanda said while writing Y/N’s order down. “How about you, sir?”

“I’ll also do one of the California rolls and one of the spicy salmon rolls please.”

“Also another good choice. Anything else or will that be it?” Amanda asked with a click of her pen.

“I think that will do it for us.” I answered back.

Amanda grabbed our menus off the table. “Alright we will have that right out for you. Your gyoza should be about ready now I’m gonna go check on it.”

Amanda reappeared a few moments later and set the plate of gyoza down in front of us. “Here you go, enjoy!”

“Thank you so much.” Me and Y/N both said at the same time.

Me and Y/N both reached for one of the gyoza’s and our hands brushed against one another. The warmth of her skin sent a shiver down my spine.

Y/N glanced up at me with those beautiful eyes and I swallowed hard. I couldn’t believe someone as beautiful as her was sitting before me right now. She made it hard to breathe.

I still don’t know what I did in this life to get so lucky to have Y/N cross my path. But whatever it was, I will spend eternity giving all my thanks.

Y/N was easily the most beautiful girl I’ve ever laid my eyes on. The fact that I was sitting across from her and eating lunch with her right now still never fully set in.

She was way out of my league and I knew that I couldn’t do anything to fuck up whatever this could potentially be.

“Holy shit, this is the best thing I’ve ever put in my mouth.”

I looked up from the plate of gyoza to see Y/N chewing with the biggest smile across her face. “I’m glad you like them.”

“Jesse, this is hands down the best gyoza I’ve ever eaten. Thank you so much for bringing me here.”

I laughed at her comment and the cuteness of her cheeks puffing out from the gyoza she had shoved in them. “Anytime, especially if it’s with you.”

READER

My cheeks burned from how much blushing I’ve been doing the last few hours I’ve spent with Jesse.

Our sushi orders came out earlier and we both were just about finished with our meal. “Ugh, I’m absolutely stuffed.” I said while holding a hand over my stomach.

“Agreed I ate way too much, but it’s just so good I couldn’t stop.” Jesse replied back.

Our server Amanda went to go grab us boxes so we could take home the leftovers.

Jesse had his hand up on the table and I had spent the entire time stealing glances down at his hands. The way his fingers would tap against the table made my pussy clench. He had the sexiest hands I’ve ever seen and I desperately wanted them all over me.

My phone started ringing from inside my purse, causing me to break sight from Jesse’s fingertips. I reached in and pulled it out. Kate’s contact photo appearing on the screen.

“I’m so sorry, Kate is calling me. Do you mind if I take it?”

“Of course. You don’t ever have to ask permission Y/N.”

I clicked on the green answer button bringing the phone up to my ear.

“Hello?”

“So Jasmine called out tonight, of course, but before you have a heart attack, don’t worry. I’m not calling you to ask you to come in. I’m just gonna stay and close with Kristina and get my overtime pay. But I just wanted to let you know that I won’t be home until later tonight.”

“Oh shit, are you sure you’re okay with staying and closing Kate? You’ve been there since four this morning. There’s no one else you can call to come in?”

“Unfortunately no, the only person I could call in would be Tyler but he already worked this morning and I know he won’t come back and work a double.” Kate then let out a frustrated sigh. “But whatever, it’s fine. The overtime pay will get me through it.”

I glanced over at Jesse who was now putting both of our left over food into the to go boxes.

“I’m so sorry sis. If you need anything at all just text or call me.”

“I will Y/N, but I’ll be fine. It’s nothing I haven’t done before. Just one of the awesome perks that comes with being a manager. But I gotta go, Kristina is out on the floor by herself so I better go make sure she isn’t burning the place down. I’ll see you later tonight. Love you.”

“Love you too.” I replied back before pulling the phone from my ear to disconnect the call.

“Everything okay?” Jesse asked.

“Yeah, Kate got stuck having to close the cafe tonight. She’s been there since four this morning so she’s not too happy about it.”

“Oh shit, that sucks. If you need to go and help her out I totally understand. I can drop you off at the cafe if you need me to.”

“You’re so sweet to offer, Jesse. Thank you. But I couldn’t work tonight even if I wanted to. If I did it would put me in overtime and since I’m not a manager I’m not allowed to work any hours over my usual forty.”

Our server Amanda came back to the table and laid the bill upside down. “Take your time no rush! I’ll come back whenever you guys are ready.”

Jesse grabbed the bill and pulled his wallet out from his back pocket. He grabbed his card and handed it along with the receipt back to Amanda.

“Jesse what are you doing?” I asked with an eyebrow raised. “Why did you pay the bill?”

“I already told you, it’s the least I can do for you giving me the pleasure to take such a beautiful girl out to lunch with me.”

“I hope you know I’m paying you back.” I said while reaching into my purse to pull out my wallet.

“Well, what are you doing after this?”

I glanced back up at him, “Well, Kate is going to be gone all night so I’ll just be sitting at home by myself. It does get kind of creepy there at night though…”

A thought popped into my head and I wanted to take advantage of being able to spend more time with him.

“If you wanted, you could come back to the apartment with me. It would make me feel a lot safer with someone else being there. We could hang out on the couch, maybe watch a movie? Only if you’re comfortable! No pressure of course.”

Jesse stared straight into my eyes now. My heart began to pick up pace and my fingertips tingled with anticipation.

“If it gets me more time with you, I’d love nothing more. As long as you’re okay with it.”

Amanda came back to the table and handed Jesse’s card to him. “Thank you guys so much. You both have a great day and come back soon.”

Jesse wrote his signature down on the receipt and I went to stop him before he wrote down an amount on the tip line.

“You paid for lunch, at least let me get the tip.”

“Not a chance.” Jesse responded while going back to finish writing out the tip amount on the receipt.

“You’re a stubborn one, Jesse.” I said with a smirk on my face.

“You know, that’s not the first time someone has told me that. You can make it up to me with a promise of more orange scones to come.” He responded back with a wink.

Jesse then pushed up off the table with both hands standing up out of the booth and took a step to stand directly in front of where I was sitting.

He then put his hand out, “You ready to get outta here?”

I reached for his hand and he helped me up out of the booth. “Thank you, Jesse.” His hand was softer this time but as warm as ever.

My hand fit perfectly inside of his, like it was meant to be there. When he closed his hand to wrap around the front of mine I let out a shaky breath. The only thing I could think about was how bad I didn’t want to let go.

We walked through the restaurant hand in hand and towards the front door. Making our way back out into the parking lot.

Jesse kept his hand in mine all the way back to his car before making sure to open the passenger side door once again for me.

I climbed inside of the car and Jesse made his way back over into the driver's side seat. “So, back to your place?” He asked before putting my address back into the GPS and clicking go.

#jesse cash #ghost atlas #jesse cash fic #jesse cash fanfiction #jesse cash x reader #tomato red

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jasontoddsmommyissues · 1 year ago

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Unsmooth Operator

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Femme!Reader

Summary: It’s summer in Hawkins and Eddie finds himself caught up on the cute girl working at the record store in the mall

Warnings: Reader uses she/her pronouns, brief mentions of sexual content (nothing sexual actually happens), swearing, potentially lethal levels of adorableness

A/N: First of all, sorry it’s been so long since I posted my last fic. My poor little ADHD self is a slow writer, I’m afraid. But anyway, I kind of wrote this as a sort of prequel to my Henderson!Reader fic, but there’s no direct mention of Reader being related to anyone, so you can either read it as that or not. Also, special thanks to Mr. Joseph Quinn for confirming that Eddie Munson has no game.

My Master List | Ao3

It’s June in Hawkins and the summer heat has already grown practically unbearable. The shitty window A/C unit Eddie’s been using has finally crapped out, and in the heat of the day the trailer is approximately the temperature of the sun. Mercifully, he’s found a sweet, air conditioned refuge in the newly built Starcourt mall, a temple to 20th century decadence and consumerism that also happens to be a very pleasant temperature inside.

Jeff and Gareth are tagging along today, which is fun except for the quick pit stop they had to make at the homegoods store so Gareth could pick up some new linens for his mom. They’ve finished that now, though, and Eddie’s already got their next destination in mind.

“I’m gonna do it”, Gareth insists as they go, “I’m gonna get a tattoo.”

“Your mom would kill you”, Jeff replies.”remember when she caught you smoking? I thought she wasn’t going to let us see you ever again after that.”

“It’s different now”, Gareth tells him, “I’m 16. I’m gonna be a junior. It’s time I make my own choices, you know?”

“Good luck with that”, Jeff laughs.

“Let’s hit the record store next”, Eddie cuts in, “I want to pick up the new Bob Dylan album for Wayne.”

“More like you wanna see the cute girl working the register”, Jeff teases.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about”, Eddie retorts, desperately hoping his cheeks aren’t actually turning as red as he thinks they are.

In truth, he does have an ulterior motive for wanting to go to the record store, and it is you. You’ve been going to Hawkins High for the past three years, but admittedly Eddie had never really been more than vaguely aware of your existence until this past semester, when you two had PE together. He had this routine he’d do where he would imitate the gym teacher when the man wasn’t looking, and it never failed to elicit a giggle from you. One day Eddie noticed how cute you looked when you laughed and well, he’s been a little bit stuck on you ever since.

“Why don’t you just ask her out?” Gareth comments, as if it’s just that easy.

Sweet, naive Gareth. Maybe for guys like Steve Harrington it’s that easy, but Eddie isn’t Steve Harrington. Gareth wasn’t there for Eddie’s early high school days. He wasn’t there during Eddie’s sophomore year when two hot juniors decided to prank him by convincing him their cheerleader friend was “super into him” or his junior year when he invited that girl from drama club to join Hellfire and she laughed out loud at him. Most girls don’t even want to be seen with Eddie “the Freak” Munson, let alone date him.

“Jeff’s talking out of his ass”, Eddie lies, “come on, let’s go.”

You are, of course, there at the counter when they walk in, and oh God, is that an Iron Maiden shirt you’re wearing? Fuck, as if he couldn’t be more into you.

“Um, Eddie, you good dude?” Gareth asks him and he realizes he’s stopped right there in the entrance of the store, just staring at you. He quickly turns away and walks the rest of the way into the store, thankful that you’re currently checking out a customer and probably didn’t notice him ogling you like a total weirdo.

Admittedly, this may not have been a good idea, at least if he wants to convince Jeff and Gareth he’s not into you. He quickly grabs a Bob Dylan tape and starts making for the door, desperate to just get out of there and spare himself anymore humiliation.

“Um, you gonna pay for that?” Jeff asks and fuck. He’s shoplifted before but he’s not interested in getting barred from the record store, so he’s not gonna risk it today.

“Right”, he mutters and then he forces himself to go up to the counter.

He feels like his heart is going to explode in his chest when he walks up and you flash him that brilliant smile of yours.

“Hi, Eddie”, you greet and his eyes grow wide because you know his name. Well, obviously you did, you had a class together, but it just sounds so good coming from your mouth that he momentarily ceases to function.

“Did you need help with something?” you ask after a moment.

“What?” Eddie asks, “oh no. Just um, just this.”

He sets the tape on the counter and you grab it to ring it up.

“Dylan”, you comment as you do, “not your usual fare.”

“It’s for my uncle”, Eddie explains, “he’s a big fan.”

“Cool”, you say, “I like your vest by the way. Dio. Nice.”

Well, that’s it. It’s over. Eddie’s done for.

“That’ll be $6.30”, you say.

“Oh, right money”, Eddie sputters and fishes a ten out of his pocket. He knows Jeff and Gareth are standing nearby, watching this all play out and probably laughing with each other about it. He’s definitely never living this down.

“You want a bag”, you ask as you finish gathering his change.

“Oh, I um, I guess”, he replies, not actually processing the question. You hand him his change, then place the tape in a bag and slide it over to him. He goes to grab it, and because he’s not at all paying attention to anything but you, inadvertently sends the display of Beach Boy tapes sitting on the counter tumbling to the floor.

“Oh shit”, he hisses, “oh fuck, I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay”, you reply, coming around the counter, “I keep telling Doug he shouldn’t put that stuff so close to the register.”

You bend down to start picking up the tapes and years worth of Wayne’s lectures on behaving like a gentleman come flooding back to Eddie, so he quickly follows suit.

“Let me help you”, he says.

“Thanks”, you say and you’re smiling again and Eddie kind of wants to die.

With the two of you, it doesn’t take long to get everything cleaned up and back in order.

“I’m really sorry”, Eddie says again as you make your way back behind the counter, and then before he can stop himself, he blurts, “maybe I could make it up to you somehow?”

“What?” you ask, clearly unsure of what he means.

“I mean like, maybe I could buy you a-a coffee or something sometime”, he stammers.

You peer at him for a moment, and he braces for the inevitable rejection he’s about to endure.

“I like ice cream”, you say, “if you meet me here at 3 tomorrow, you can buy me some ice cream and we’ll call it even.”

Maybe Eddie’s already dead and this is heaven. That or he’s being punked somehow. Either way, he stands there like an idiot for a second, trying to process that you just suggested the two of you meet for ice cream.

“Um okay”, he says.

“Cool”, you grin, “see you then.”

“Right”, he says, “see you then.”

And then he’s swiping his bag from the counter and stiffly making his way back to Jeff and Gareth, his body still trapped in a state of shock.

“So”, Jeff prompts, “what was all that?”

“I um, I think I’m meeting her for ice cream tomorrow”, Eddie informs them.

The two younger boys exchange glances, mouths stretching into a matching pair of shit eating grins.

“Talking out of my ass, huh?” Jeff teases.

“Shut up”, Eddie snaps, “I’m just being polite okay? It’s not like a date or anything.”

“Sure it isn’t”, Gareth replies smugly.

“Whatever”, Eddie huffs and the others know not to continue the conversation, even if they spend the rest of the afternoon exchanging amused glances at each other.

Eddie waits until he’s back at the trailer to let everything sink in. When it does, he feels a vague sense of panic washing over him.

Embarrassing as it is, Eddie’s never had a real, serious girlfriend before. Hell, aside from a brief flirtation with Tammy Thompson that ended in a very awkward hand job in the school parking lot, he’s never really had any experience with girls (or boys for that matter) at all. And Tammy was the one that initiated that. He wasn’t even really into her, he was just desperate for some sort of female attention.

You, though, he is into you. Very, very much into you. And he has no idea what the hell he’s supposed to do or say. He finally, finally has a chance to go out with his dream girl, and he’s almost certainly going to say something wrong and scare you off like pretty much everyone he’s ever been into.

He wonders what the weather in Wisconsin is like this time of year, because he’s halfway to hopping in his van and heading there now, never to be seen or heard from in Hawkins, Indiana again.

Then again, maybe he’s over thinking it. It’s not like the word “date” ever came up in your conversation. Maybe this really is just him paying you back for his clumsiness, and afterwards you won’t even spare him a second thought. In the end, he figures that whatever the case, he’s not just going to leave you high and dry, so he has no choice but to go.

Eddie shows up outside the record store at 2:45 the next day. He stands there awkwardly, fiddling with his rings and secretly hoping that you don’t show up and he doesn’t have to deal with all of this.

No such luck though, you appear exactly at 3, looking as cute as ever in your jean skirt.

“Hey”, you greet and Eddie momentarily forgets how to speak.

“Hey”, he repeats, unable to formulate a coherent enough thought to do anything but copy your greeting.

“You ready to go?” you ask and he nods.

The record store is a fair bit away from Scoops Ahoy, and for probably the first time in his life, Eddie finds himself unsure of what exactly to say. Thankfully, you take the lead.

“So, have you heard Megadeth’s album?” you ask, “I got it the first day it came out and I love it.”

“Me too”, Eddie says, and he can feel himself being knocked out of his stupor then, “you know, my friends and I have a metal band.”

“Really?” you ask.

“Yeah”, he tells you, “we perform Wednesdays at the Hideout, if you ever want to come see us.”

“I’ll keep that in mind”, you smile and Eddie thinks his heart momentarily stops.

Walking into Scoops Ahoy with you by his side is an almost unreal experience. You and him go up to the counter and Steve Harrington is there in his little sailor suit that Eddie almost feels sorry that he’s forced to wear.

“Hey Steve”, you greet.

“Hey Y/N”, Steve replies, and then he notices that Eddie’s with you and he gets this super confused look on his face.

“So, uh, get whatever you want I guess”, Eddie says.

Once you two have ordered and gotten your ice cream, you eat it while idly wandering around the mall, just chatting about anything and everything. Eddie, as always, is frequently cracking jokes, and God is it mesmerizing to see the way you laugh in response.

It’s quite the disappointment when you’re finishing your ice cream and you’re bidding him farewell.

He knows he has to at least try to see you again so he tests the waters with a quick “that was fun, we should do it again sometime.”

“I’d like that”, you smile.

“Awesome”, he replies.

“Here”, you say, rooting around in your purse, “give me your hand.”

He obliges, and you produce a pen, which you use to scribble something onto his outstretched hand.

“What’s this?” he asks.

“My number”, you reply, “call me tonight or tomorrow?”

“Sure”, he tells you.

“Great”, you say, “I’ll see you, Eddie.”

“See you”, he says, hoping he doesn’t sound as absolutely lovesick to you as he does to himself.

You flash him one final smile before departing, and he just stands there awkwardly for a second, watching as you go. Once you’ve disappeared from sight and he’s snapped out of his trance, he peers down at the numbers you’d scrawled onto his hand. He has to remind himself that it’d be weird to get them tattooed onto himself permanently. He can’t believe that it worked. You went on a date with him, in public, and didn’t care if you were seen together. You laughed at his jokes. You gave him his number and asked to see him again. You liked him.

The trailer is as unbearably hot as ever when he returns, but for once, he doesn’t care. He’s too excited to call you later and hopefully set up another date.

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illarian-rambling · 4 months ago

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@davycoquette with the fun question games again!

Get to Know the Writblr

Gonna put this under a cut because it got long, but feel free to treat this as an open tag if you want to hop on!

On the Tumblr Writing Community:

How long have you had your writing Tumblr/Writeblr?

Since the beginning of the year, maybe? Sometime in February, I think.

What led you to create it?

I was feeling pretty lonely having no one to talk to about my writing. None of my real-life friends are writers and I'm really terrible at expressing my interests verbally, so I figured online might be the place to go. So far, I've been right!

What’s your favorite thing about the Writeblr community?

Oh, the people, for sure. It's incredibly rare that I come across anyone being less than supportive on here. No matter our skill level, I really feel like every writer on here has a sense of being in this shit together.

What’s one thing you’d like your mutuals to know about you?

Hmmm.... I'm pretty open about sharing things about myself, so idk if there's anything major I haven't touched on yet. I wake up at 4am every morning for work, so if you see me posting at an egregious time, that's why. Also, if you ever want martial arts tips for your fight scenes, I'm your gal!

Is there anything you’d like to see more of on your dash?

I love it when people make memes of their ocs. Makes me giggle every time.

What tips/advice do you have for someone who made a Writeblr today?

You gotta interact with people. I know it can be scary, but even a reblog with no tags can make another writer smile. Chances also are, if you leave a nice comment on someone's work, they might check you out and leave a nice comment on yours! A community isn't a community unless you go out and commune :)

WIP it Good:

Which Works-in-Progress (WIPs) or writing projects are you noodling about, lately?

Lately, I've been juggling writing my first draft of Mortal God book 3 (tentatively title being The Machinations of Machine and Man) and going over @kaylinalexanderbooks lovely comments on MG1. My ghost ship project is also on a low simmer in the back of my brain, but I'm trying to leave that until I'm done with MG3.

How long have you been working on them?

Good lord, I started MG1 about... almost two years ago now? Damn, it feels like it's been so much longer. But hey, three book drafts in two years ain't bad! Honor's Outcasts, which is largely written by now, I started about three years ago.

Do you remember what inspired them/what got you started?

The two main characters of MG started as a vague daydream, which then became two important dnd npcs along with MG's main villain. I ended up liking them all so much that I wrote a short story which became *drumroll* three entire books! A lot of my inspiration came from Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood and the Foundryside Trilogy of books. I can't think of anyone specifically who inspired the characters, except that Astra was originally based on the archetype of the silent wandering cowboy/samurai as seen in a lot of Kurosawa films and old westerns. For anyone familiar with her, uh, things changed quite a lot.

How much time, in your best estimation, do you spend thinking about them?

At least ten percent of my brain's storage is dedicated to my wips at all times. As for how often I'm actively thinking about them... it's also quite a lot.

When someone asks the dreaded, “What do you write about,” question, what do you usually say?

"Uh, fantasy stuff?" is my go-to.

What do you want to say (if it’s different from what you do say)?

I really wish I had the ability to explain my wips as succinctly with speech as I do with writing, but alas. I would want to give a nice, book jacket blurb that doesn't give away too much of the crazy shit.

Let’s Rotate Blorbos:

Name any characters you created.

I think I'm really good at names, so we're gonna go down the list!

Izjik Meautammera

Sepo Kaiacynthus

Twenari Undetasib/Devaris

Djek Kagura

Astra DuClaire

Mashal Darezsho

Ivander Montane

Elsind Cavernsight

Duchon Avymere Kalaphon Spearsong III

Faalgun Falani

Nyda Burningrock

Kaulakri Ondohuroata

Pashananath

Anarac Fifth-Blood

Who’s the most unhinged?

Unhinged in terms of violence? Sepo for sure. Unhindered in terms of sheer chaos? I'm gonna go with Izjik and Djek as a duo. Between both of their high charismas and low intelligences, along with their combined expertise in fighting and creative uses of magic, they're unbeatable.

Who comes the most naturally for you to write?

Probably Izjik. I've been writing in her POV for the longest.

Do you ever cringe at them?

Sometimes yeah, when they do something real stupid. But, then again, I did make them that way.

How much control do you feel you have over your characters?

I think I know my characters really well and base my plot around their motives, so there really isn't a huge need for control.

Do you enjoy people asking questions about your characters?

PLEASE!!! FEED ME ASKS! I'LL TAKE ANYTHING!

On Writeblr Engagement:

What makes you want to follow another Writeblr account?

Probably creativity. I've read a looooot of fantasy/sci-fi, so if you're doing something I've never seen before, I'll probably give you a follow.

What makes you decide against following?

Any kind of hateful rhetoric or someone who doesn't want 18+ interaction. Other than that, I think it's important to follow people who write different genres or have different methods than me.

Do you interact with non-mutuals often?

I wouldn't say so. I get a little shy doing that.

Do your mutuals’ characters occupy space in your noodle?

The characters of @kaylinalexanderbooks @mk-writes-stuff and @somethingclevermahogony all have a little place in my brain. Favorites from each include Robbie and Akash (not to be separated), Narul and Bop (love me a good living weapon/teddybear of a dude team-up), and Nellie and Stellaris (their earnest kindness makes my heart happy). If you haven't yet, you should go check out their stuff and see for yourself!

And with that, thanks for reading! Go out and have yourself a bitchin day <3

#writing #writerscommunity #writblr #my ocs #get to know the writer

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kmomof4 · 10 months ago

Text

Orphan Girl- A New Fic by @kmomof4

I am sooooooooooo excited to finally share this fic with y'all!!! It has been a LONG time coming!!! It was inspired a year ago by a song our community chorale sang for our spring concert. The song Orphan Girl was written by Brendan Graham for the Annual Great Famine Commemoration in Sydney in 2012. The ceremony commemorates the relocation to Australia of over 4k female orphans after the famine took its toll. The song is told from the perspective of a 16yr old Irish famine orphan longing for a better life in Australia.

I am an orphan girl,

In Westport I was found,

The workhouse is my world,

Since the praties took us down,

What time in life is left to me,

If I don’t leave Westport town,

But the crown is sending girls to sea, for far Australia bound.

Sail, sail, sail me away,

Sail to Australia;

Sail, sail, sail me I pray,

Sail me away to Australia.

They say Australia’s fine,

They say Australia’s fair,

Australia’s on my mind

And the fields of praties there

I pray when this inspection’s done, that they’ll say me fit to sail,

For they don’t just send out anyone, oh Lord, don’t see me fail.

Sail, sail, sail me away,

Sail to Australia;

Sail, sail, sail me I pray,

Sail me away to Australia.

I am scarcely turned sixteen,

But I’m ready now to go

I’m decent and I’m clean,

Fit for any man to know.

And I will be some good man’s wife,

If there I’ll settle down-

And find myself a better life,

If I get to Sydney town.

Sail, sail, sail me away,

Sail to Australia;

Sail, sail, sail me I pray,

Sail me away to Australia.

Sail me away, sail me I pray

Sail me away to Australia.

I am an orphan girl, oh I am an orphan girl

And now thanks to whom thanks is due! Hollye helped me research and also betaed this monster, Joni helped me with plotting, and the discord ladies kept me sprinting until the dadgum thing was finished!! Thank you all!!!

Summary: Irish potato famine orphans Emma and Mary Margaret Swan hope and pray for a new life in Australia.

Rating: T

Words: 14K Make sure you have snacks and drinks readily available if you read this in one go... 😜

Tags: Period Piece, Irish Potato Famine, Australia Setting, Implied Sexual Assault/Rape, Minor Character Death

On ao3 if that's your preference.

New Tag List for the New Year! Please let me know if you'd like to be added or removed.

@jrob64 @winterbaby89 @hollyethecurious @the-darkdragonfly @jennjenn615 @donteattheappleshook @undercaffinatednightmare @pirateherokillian @cocohook38 @qualitycoffeethings @booksteaandtoomuchtv @superchocovian @motherkatereloyshipper @snowbellewells @pirateprincessofpizza @djlbg @lfh1226-linda @xarandomdreamx @tiganasummertree @bluewildcatfanatic @anmylica @laianely @resident-of-storybrooke @exhaustedpirate @gingerchangeling @caught-in-the-filter @ultraluckycatnd @stahlop @darkshadow7 @fleurdepetite @captainswan-kellie @soniccat @beckettj @teamhook @whimsicallyenchantedrose @thisonesatellite @jonesfandomfanatic @elfiola @zaharadessert @ilovemesomekillianjones @mie779 @kymbersmith-90

Under the cut, unless Tumblr ate it.

September 19, 1849, Westport Workhouse, County Mayo, Ireland

I am an orphan girl, but my new life begins on the morrow.

Emma Swan sat on her straw pallet, the moon shining in the high window over her sleeping place in the female dormitory of the Westport workhouse. She could barely see as she wrote in the small notebook on her lap.

The day car departs at 4am for Dublin. From there, we will journey by ship to Plymouth, where awaits the Panama to transport us to Sydney. I cannot help but feel afraid, yet hopeful as well, for what the future holds for myself and Mary Margaret. I know the Lord holds my life, my future, and looking back at what He’s already brought us through, I know I can trust Him. He’s provided an education for myself and Mary Margaret at Achill colony, and preserved my life through the loss of Mam and Da to the great hunger, and during my time here in the workhouse, where so many die every day. I can only expect that He will preserve me through the journey and days, weeks, and months beyond as well.

As I look around myself, I feel more hope than anything. The workhouse has been my world for 4 years. How I’ve survived here that long is beyond me. This is my only escape and if the provisions we’ve been furnished with are any indication, we will be quite well off indeed. I’ve never owned a bonnet, or stockings, or a separate gown just for sleeping. My time of indenture will be 5 years. I’ll only be 24 by then. I’m going toward a better life. A life of hope and promise. Oh, Lord, be with me, I pray.

~*~*~

January 12, 1850, Immigration Depot, Sydney, Australia

Ruby Lucas opened the door to the room Emma and Mary Margaret, along with other girls from the Panama, would be staying in until they were assigned employment outside the depot in and around Sydney. They looked around wide eyed and slack jawed.

“Would you look at this?” Mary Margaret breathed. Emma joined her frank appreciation. She’d never seen a room this fine. The ceiling was high and the walls were lined with many multi paned windows, shades half drawn, but still letting in an abundance of light. The beds were lined up along the walls with a small dresser in between each one. And it was cool. After the heat of the Australian summer outside, it was a relief to be indoors.

“It’s not much, I know,” Ruby said. “But this is where you’ll sleep during your time here. We do hold to a daily schedule. Rise at six, meals at 6:30, 11:30 and 5:30. Bedtime is strictly observed at 8:30. And you’ll have daily chores to attend to as well. Most girls are here for a month or less, but some have been here for as long as three months. It just depends on what you’ll be employed doing.”

Emma looked at her sister, who smiled back at her. The schedule wasn’t anything different from what they’d experienced in the workhouse, but already, Emma could see the hope in Mary Margaret’s eyes and she responded in kind. Their education and the training they were to receive here at the Depot, made their prospects of employment high indeed. Emma hoped to work as a domestic, where she might fall in love with another servant in the household and have a family of her own someday.

“Thank you so much, Miss Lucas,” Mary Margaret said, turning to the young woman. “We are so grateful to be here, you have no idea.” Emma nodded her head in agreement.

“Oh, we don’t stand on ceremony around here,” she said, grinning widely and waving her hand around dismissively. “You can call me Ruby. And Granny will have your head if you call her anything but Granny. We’ve seen hundreds of girls come through here over the years and that’s what they all call her. Not that we see many of them once they leave, but when we do…” She trailed away, still with a broad smile on her face and Emma felt an immediate kinship with her. She had a feeling they were going to be great friends.

The following weeks passed quickly and Emma and Mary Margaret were both assigned to occupations within a month of their arrival. Mary Margaret was to be a teacher in a boarding school in Sydney for the children of landowners who lived outside the city proper and Emma was going to work in the home of shipping magnate and sheep farmer Killian Jones. He had a young daughter in need of a governess since her mother had passed away the previous autumn. Mary Margaret would be taking up her employment tomorrow and Emma would be traveling to Killian Jones’ home for a final interview. She understood that he wanted to meet her personally to determine her fitness for being his only daughter’s governess.

This was their last night in the depot, and they lay on their beds, facing each other in the darkness.

“I’m going to miss you, Mary Margaret,” Emma whispered.

“I’ll miss you, too.” Emma could hear Mary Margaret’s smile in her words. “But we’ll still see each other. I’ll have the weekends off and hopefully, you’ll have the Sabbath off as well. We’ll make it a priority to see each other then. And we can always write to each other.”

Emma pressed her lips together in a small smile. Mary Margaret’s hope was contagious and she felt her spirits lift at her sister’s words.

“Can you believe how far we’ve come?” Emma asked.

“No,” Mary Margaret said, her voice tinged with wonder. “God has truly blessed us. We would have died in that workhouse eventually. But here, we’re going to be productive members of society. Not dependent on it. We have a chance to make new lives for ourselves. Fall in love, get married, raise children.” She paused for a moment. “The headmaster is very handsome.” Her voice was even softer now and Emma had to strain to hear her.

“The headmaster? Of your school?” Emma asked.

“Mmhmmm,” Mary Margaret agreed. “David Nolan.”

Silence fell between them and Emma got lost in her own thoughts. She didn’t know what to expect from her assigned position, or even if she’d receive Killian Jones’ final approval, but the position of governess to the daughter of a wealthy landowner would be as favorable an outcome as she could have expected. She’d be well paid and have higher status within the household than she could have hoped for. Perhaps there she’d meet some good man who would love her and care for her. Someone she could love and care for and raise children with. She smiled in the darkness. Perhaps this David Nolan would be that person for her sister. Only time would tell. She closed her eyes and slipped into dreams.

~*~*~

Emma stepped down from the carriage that brought her from the Immigration Depot to the home of Killian Jones. The house was a single story ranch style home that was finer than anything Emma had ever seen. Granny was right behind her as a chaperone since this wasn’t yet a permanent position. Off to the side of the house, there was a paddock with horses and several men working. Emma inhaled sharply as one by one, the men approached the fence to stare at the newcomers. Emma straightened her shoulders and lifted her chin slightly as she stepped boldly toward the house. It wouldn’t do to show her nervousness at their blatant appraisal.

As she approached the house, a tall and very handsome man emerged from inside. He wore pressed khaki trousers and a blue chambray shirt with a black vest over it. His six-shooter sat on his hip and Emma gulped thinking about the reason why he’d need to have it on him inside his own home. He had dark brown hair whose gently tousled style seemed to match the rest of him- controlled but just untamed enough to be interesting. He had piercing blue eyes and dark scruff lined his jaw with just a hint of ginger in the morning sun. Emma felt her heart rate jump when she saw him.

The man was literally breathtaking.

“Emma Swan?” he asked, descending the steps toward them, his hand outstretched.

Emma stopped with Granny beside her and dropped a small curtsey before rising and meeting his gaze.

“Yes.”

“And you must be Ms. Lucas,” he said, shaking her hand. “Killian Jones.”

Granny shook his hand and then waved aside his greeting. “Everyone calls me Granny, young man. And I’ll expect you to do the same.”

The man laughed good naturedly. Emma took a deep breath, hoping it would bring her heart rate under control.

“Very well, Granny. Please, come in,” he said, gesturing behind him toward the house.

Emma struggled to keep her mouth closed as they entered behind him. Like the Depot, the ceilings were high and it was blessedly cool after the nearly two hour journey in the carriage. It was rustic in a way the Depot was not, the walls a little rougher and exposed beams up above. She tried not to stare as he led them into what could only be his office. He shut the heavy double doors behind them as she and Granny settled themselves in the leather chairs in front of the huge wooden desk that dominated the room. He sat down behind the desk and folded his hands on top of it, leaning forward just a bit.

“Welcome to Drogheda Station, Miss Swan,” he began. “My name is Killian Jones, and I am in need of a governess for my young daughter. She lost her mother closing in on a year ago now, and I just wanted to meet you myself before introducing you to my Alice and make sure you’d be a good fit with our family.” Emma nodded, but remained silent. His crystal blue eyes remained on hers as he spoke and she had to give herself an internal shake to keep herself from getting lost in them.

“So, tell me about yourself.” He looked down at a small stack of papers on his desk for a moment before looking back at her again. “I have quite a bit of information about you from your file provided to me from Granny, but I’d like to hear some of it in your own words.” He smiled and Emma instantly relaxed as she returned it.

“Ah,” Emma began, “the name… of the station? Drogheda? That’s Irish isn’t it?”

His smile lit up his face and Emma thought she would swoon at the pleasure she saw in his beautiful eyes.

“It is,” he affirmed. “My father was from Drogheda in County Louth on the east coast of Ireland. He immigrated here when he was a teenager. He died when I was small, but when I bought this land, I wanted to honor him and the roots he left behind by naming the station after his hometown.”

“I see.” She smiled back at him. “That’s a lovely tribute to your family. Thank you for sharing it with me. I’d never been to County Louth, but I had heard of it. I’m from County Mayo on the west coast.”

Killian smiled softly at her statement and nodded for her to continue. He watched the young woman in front of him intently as she continued speaking. Her manners were impeccable and her appearance was most pleasing. Her long golden hair was gathered at the nape of her neck in a ponytail against the summer heat, but it positively glowed in the sun shining through the windows of his office. There was a sadness in her green eyes that Killian found himself responding to. It was the look that he himself saw in the mirror every day. The look of an orphan. Given her circumstances, and where she came from, he wasn’t at all surprised.

What did surprise him, however, was how strongly he was responding to it. He wanted nothing more than to care for and shelter this lovely young lady. Her education and decorum were obvious in her comportment and Killian was sure she’d be a perfect fit for the position. He rarely had trouble discerning the character of a person upon their first meeting, and after just this brief introduction to Emma Swan, he had no compunction whatsoever in bringing her on as Alice’s governess.

“Thank you, Miss Swan,” he said when she finished telling him about herself. He turned his attention to Granny. “She’ll do fine. Thank you,” he continued with a short and decisive nod. “Now, do either of you have any questions for me?”

Emma glanced at Granny for a moment before turning back toward Mr. Jones.

“I had a couple of questions, actually, Sir.”

He waved aside her statement. “You don’t need to address me as Sir, Miss Swan. As a member of the household, Mr. Jones will do,” he said, his blue eyes meeting hers.

Emma was surprised, but nodded. “Well, that was the first one,” she said with a smile. “The second was concerning time off. I do hope this isn’t presumptuous. My sister remained in Sydney as a teacher at a boarding school and I’d like to be able to visit her occasionally.”

“Of course,” he agreed immediately. “We are pretty strict about observing the Sabbath here, so you’d be free to spend that day however you saw fit. Whether you spent it reading in your room, catching up on correspondence, or visiting your sister in town. You’d, of course, have access to a carriage to carry you to and from.”

“Thank you so much.” She looked at Granny again, who’d opened her mouth to speak.

“I have a question as well.”

Mr. Jones encouraged her to continue with a wave of his hand.

“I noticed the men in the paddock next to the house paying special attention when Emma climbed out of the carriage.” Granny was fierce and she wouldn’t tolerate any untoward behavior toward her charges. She fixed him with a glare that had Emma questioning if she’d actually remain behind when Granny left or not. “What guarantee do I have that Emma will be safe here?” “I run a tight ship here, Granny,” he said, meeting her stare with one of his own. “I can’t fault the men for noticing a pretty lass, but there is a line and they know not to cross it. Not to cross me. Emma will be safe here. You have my word.”

Granny was motionless for a moment before she nodded her head sharply and stood. Emma stood as well and turned toward her caretaker for the last month before embracing her fiercely.

“Thank you so much, Granny,” she whispered. “For everything.”

Granny held on to her upper arms as she drew away from her. “You make us proud, Emma. And I will expect a visit when you come to town to visit Mary Margaret.”

Emma smiled through the tears that were forming in the corners of her eyes. “Yes, ma’am.”

Once they’d escorted Granny back out to the carriage that would carry her back to Sydney and watched it disappear over the horizon, Mr. Jones showed her back inside. Emma noticed the men in the paddock didn’t pay them any special notice this time, not while he was with her. As they passed through the house, Mr. Jones pointed out various rooms as he led her directly to her quarters. Her trunk had already been deposited inside, as he had instructed before they saw Granny off.

“Dinner is at seven. You’ll meet Alice then,” he informed her. “Until then, feel free to unpack and rest. I’ll have a lunch tray brought to you here in a few minutes so you won’t be disturbed.”

“Thank you. I’d appreciate a rest after the journey and I’ll look forward to meeting Alice this evening.” Emma smiled and nodded as he backed out of the room and shut the door.

~*~*~

Emma rushed into the dining room hours later to find Mr. Jones and a young girl already seated at the table. Emma quickly curtseyed and apologized for her tardiness before sitting down in a vacant chair opposite the girl.

“It’s your first evening in a new environment,” Mr. Jones said. “And I didn’t exactly take you on a full tour of the house so you’d know where to go. So no apology is necessary.” He gave her an appraising look as their meal was served. Emma’s mouth went dry, wondering if she’d done something wrong already.

“This is the same dress you wore this morning, is it not?” he asked.

Emma looked down as a blush heated her cheeks. “It is,” she said. “I only have one other.”

“I see,” he murmured. “We’ll have to make a trip into town sometime soon to furnish you a suitable wardrobe. You can’t be expected to wear the same two dresses day after day after day. People would think you weren’t being paid a suitable wage. I’ll need to clear my schedule a bit, so we can take a couple of days for the trip. I still have some of my wife’s garments you can make use of until then.”

“Oh, that’s really not necessary…”

“Nonsense,” he interrupted. He glanced at his daughter who watched the exchange with wide blue eyes, just like her father. “I am trying to raise Alice to be a lady, with the manners and comportment to match, and that is difficult enough out here in the bush without a good example for her to follow.” He raised his eyebrows at her with a significant look and Emma nodded her understanding before smiling across at the girl.

“Alice, this is your new governess, Miss Emma,” he introduced. “Emma, may I present to you, my daughter, Alice.”

“It is a pleasure to meet you, Alice,” she said.

“You as well, Miss Emma,” Alice replied, a wide smile lighting up her entire face.

Once the introductions were out of the way, Alice proved to be a delightful chatterbox. She was inquisitive, attentive, and very observant and it was clear to Emma that Mr. Jones loved his daughter dearly in the way he spoke to her and gently steered the dinner conversation.

As the meal came to an end, Mr. Jones rose from the table and spoke once again. “It’s time to ready yourself for bed, my Starfish.” He turned his attention to Emma. “I’ll see to her bedtime routine tonight, and give you this first evening to yourself. You can take over tomorrow evening.” Emma smiled and nodded her agreement. “Goodnight, Miss Emma.”

He held his elbow out for Alice to take and Emma’s heart melted.

“Goodnight, Mr. Jones. Goodnight, Alice.”

“Goodnight, Miss Emma,” Alice replied. “We’ll see you in the morning.”

As they walked out of the dining room, Emma smiled softly at the obvious affection between father and daughter. It was wonderful to see a father take such an interest in the care of his child. Once they were gone, she thought back to all the circumstances that had brought her to this place. This truly was the beginning of a new life for her, and she had the feeling it would be a good one.

~*~*~

The next morning, Mr. Jones took Emma on a full tour of the house. She met Robin Locksley, the overseer at the station, and the other household staff. They were all friendly and polite and Emma felt completely at ease among them. Once the tour was finished, Alice joined them as they entered the stable to collect a buggy for a ride around the station, for when the ladies might take excursions around the property.

“Cassidy,” he called, once they were inside.

A man with light brown hair emerged from one of the stalls wiping his hands on what was once a white cloth. He wasn’t as tall as Mr. Jones, and was a bit stockier, too. The look in his eye as he took her in reminded her of the way the hands had stared at her when she’d arrived the day before. She did the same thing now as she did then, raising her chin just a bit and squaring her shoulders. A quick glance at her employer told her he’d noticed his appraisal as well, and wasn’t pleased. A muscle in his jaw jumped as he silently clenched his teeth in apparent irritation.

“Good morning, Mr. Jones,” the man said affably. “What can I do for you?”

“Cassidy, this is Alice’s new governess, Miss Emma Swan,” he introduced. “Miss Emma, this the stablemaster, Mr. Neal Cassidy. Whenever you and Alice want to go for a ride, or need a carriage for going into town, he’ll take care of getting your horses ready.”

Emma curtseyed politely, even if she’d rather stay far away from the man in front of them.

“I’ll be accompanying Miss Emma and Alice today, Cassidy, but in the future, if they are traveling by buggy or carriage, I want a stable hand to accompany them.” He turned to Emma, sincerity shining in his eyes. “I know you’re able to drive a buggy, Miss Emma,” he said, “but in the case of an emergency, whether that’s dingos or a broken wheel or axle, I’d feel better knowing you had an armed man with you and my daughter.”

“Of course, Mr. Jones,” she agreed quickly. “To be honest, I’d feel the same way. There’s too much out here that I’m unexposed to and unfamiliar with. I’d feel much better having someone with us who could handle whatever the bush throws at us.”

Killian smiled, relieved she’d agreed with his edict so quickly. Turning back to Cassidy, he gave the man’s back a hard stare as he went about preparing the carriage for them. He hadn’t missed the blatant appreciation in his eyes when he saw Emma. Cassidy was relatively new to the ranch- he’d only been there since the new year- but he’d come very highly recommended. Just as he’d told Granny the day before, he couldn’t fault the man for noticing Emma, but he hadn’t been here long enough to know what was expected behavior around a lady. Killian had a feeling he was going to have to keep a close eye on the stablemaster and make it very clear to him that Emma was under his protection. Anything less than gentlemanly and respectful treatment of Emma and Alice would not be tolerated. And would be dealt with immediately and decisively. Killian’s honor would allow nothing less.

~*~*~

Emma had been at the station for two weeks when Killian was finally able to take a couple of days away from his work to accompany Emma and Alice into town for a new wardrobe for Emma. Alice was quite excited because she’d been promised new hair ribbons.

The bell over the door rang as Killian opened it before allowing the ladies to precede him inside. Emma’s eyes widened in surprise. The sunlight pouring through the windows at the front of the store drew attention to the soft fabrics and rich, vibrant colors. They nearly made Emma’s eyes dazzle. She’d never seen the like.

She couldn’t help reaching out and trailing her fingers along the edge of the dress in front of her as Killian approached the counter. The material was soft to the touch, and nearly exactly the same color as her eyes. A small sigh escaped her as she pictured herself wearing it. A soft gasp beside her brought her out of her reverie and focused her attention on Alice.

“You’d look so pretty in this, Miss Emma,” she breathed. “Don’t you think so, Papa?”

Emma was astonished to find Killian standing in front of them. She’d been so lost in her daydream, she hadn’t realized he’d returned to where she and Alice were looking around at the clothes on display.

He had a soft smile on his face as he looked at her and his hand joined hers as it continued to stroke the soft fabric.

“It would look lovely on you, Miss Emma.” His eyes never left hers as his hand gently cupped hers, so that the back of his fingers also ran along the material. Emma could hardly breathe.

A third voice joined them, startling Emma again. A tall, somewhat plump woman dressed in pink was looking her up and down.

“Ah, yes,” she said. “And I believe this day dress would need very little in the way of tailoring. It seems to have been made for you.” She pulled the dress down and held it up to her. “Yes,” she said, nodding decisively. “Go in the back and put it on. I’ll be there in a moment to make sure no alterations are needed.”

Emma, seeking his permission, looked at Killian who was scratching behind his ear. He nodded gently at her.

“Miss Flora and her sisters, Miss Fauna and Miss Meriweather,” he began, motioning at the other two women who’d also joined them, “are master haberdashers. I’m sure Miss Flora is correct in surmising your size and if the dress will fit.”

Emma nodded and took the dress from Miss Flora. She moved toward the back of the shop and took a deep breath trying to bring her heart rate back under control. The way he was looking at her as they both touched the material of the dress made heat rise to her cheeks and sent her heart into overdrive, beating a staccato rhythm that she could only hope wasn’t obvious to the people around her.

Once she got the dress on, she could plainly see Miss Flora truly was an expert. It fit her perfectly. Just then, Miss Flora came through the drapes that hung over the door to the front of the store and Emma could just see Alice poking her head through.

“May I come in and see, Miss Emma?” she asked, shyly.

Emma smiled widely. “If Miss Flora doesn’t mind,” she answered. “It is her shop after all.”

The woman smiled indulgently and turned toward the child. “Of course not, my dear! Please come in.” Alice came through the drapes as Flora mumbled under her breath about other items Emma would need to round out her wardrobe.

Alice’s eyes lit up at the day dress Emma wore. A soft smile touched Miss Flora’s lips as Alice came closer.

“You were absolutely right, Miss Alice,” she said. “This dress is perfect on our lovely Emma. It really brings out your eyes,” she said, turning her attention back to Emma again. Her eyes twinkled and Emma smiled softly at the complement.

After that, it was nothing but Miss Flora measuring Emma every which way she could be measured. Never in her wildest dreams did she imagine all that went into making a lady’s wardrobe. Miss Fauna brought in swatch after swatch of fabric for Emma to choose from and also helped settle her sisters when an argument arose between them about which color- a soft sky blue, or a blushing pink- would better compliment Emma’s fair complexion.

By the end of it all, Emma was ready for a meal and a bed. She’d been on her feet for hours as the ladies brought out dress after dress- with all the accessories that went along with them- for her to try on both before and after slight alterations were made. The first day dress they’d found when they entered the shop was the only one of the bunch that needed nothing done to it and Emma planned to wear it when they traveled home the next day.

In addition to Emma’s full wardrobe, Killian also made arrangements for Alice’s measurements to be taken as well. She’d grown so much over the summer- much like plants, Miss Flora and Miss Fauna agreed- she was going to need new clothing to see her through the winter. But for now, Alice was simply thrilled with beautiful new ribbons for her hair that matched many of Emma’s new dresses and hair accessories.

It was much too late in the day to try and make it back to Drogheda Station before nightfall, besides the fact the sisters needed a bit more time to complete a few pieces of Emma’s wardrobe. They would be ready in the morning. So the trio made a surprise visit to Misthaven School where Mary Margaret taught.

The sisters embraced joyfully before Emma introduced Killian and Alice to Mary Margaret.

“Mary Margaret,” she began, “This is Mr. Jones and his daughter, Alice. Mr. Jones, my sister, Mary Margaret.”

Killian extended his hand for Mary Margaret to shake. “A pleasure to meet you, Mary Margaret. My daughter, Alice,” he said, motioning toward Alice, who dropped a slight curtsey.

“A pleasure to meet you, Miss Mary Margaret,” she said, smiling shyly.

“And you, Miss Alice,” she replied with a nod, her smile warm and welcoming.

They spent a pleasant evening in one another’s company. Once they were past the introductions, Alice blossomed under Mary Margaret’s attention, telling her new friend all about everything Emma was teaching her and how much she enjoyed it. Even with as tired as Emma was, when their time together was drawing to an end, she was loath to leave her sister’s presence, knowing it would be a long while before she’d be able to visit again.

The sisters embraced warmly and even Alice threw her arms around Mary Margaret’s middle in a surprise hug that was completely unexpected by all the adults.

“It was lovely to meet you, Miss Mary Margaret,” Alice said, releasing her. She turned unsure eyes upon her father, not quite certain how he’d react to her lack of decorum. But the smile on his face told her all was well. A relieved smile broke over her face as she turned back to her new friend and dropped a curtsey before returning quickly to her father’s side.

“You as well, Miss Alice,” Mary Margaret replied, her attention then turning to Mr. Jones. “Thank you so much for this wonderful surprise, Mr. Jones. It’s only been a couple of weeks since we’ve seen each other, but I’ve missed Emma so much.” She placed a hand over her heart, tears glistening in the corners of her eyes, matching her sister’s as she glanced at her. “I had no idea how much I was going to miss her.” Mary Margaret’s attention returned to Mr. Jones as she extended her hand. “I cannot thank you enough.”

“It was my pleasure, Miss Mary Margaret.” He took her hand and shook it before glancing at Emma and Alice. “And now we must take our leave before these two collapse. It has been a very long and tiring day for us all.”

“Of course,” Mary Margaret agreed, reaching for her sister one more time. “I’ll see you again soon and we can write in the meantime.”

Emma nodded, too choked up for speech. She pulled back and turned to where Killian stood with Alice, her arm looped through his. He smiled gently at her and Emma returned it, licking her lips that had suddenly become dry as she approached and looped her arm through his offered arm before they walked out toward their waiting carriage.

Mary Margaret smiled as she watched them go. Thankful that just as her life had turned around since leaving Ireland, it appeared her sister’s life had done the same.

~*~*~

“Goodnight, Alice,” Emma murmured, rising from the child’s bed in the hotel room Mr. Jones had booked them for the night.

“Goodnight, Miss Emma,” Alice replied as she snuggled down under the homespun quilt that covered her bed. Emma was too wound up to sleep just yet, so she crossed the room to where a small sofa sat near the door and sat down. She picked up her journal that lay on the small end table and began to write.

What a wonderful day it was. Our visit to F F & M Haberdashers was like a dream. The clothing on display was simply beautiful. The fabrics were so soft and the colors so bright and lovely. I thought we were abundantly blessed with the items we brought with us from Ireland, but the wardrobe Mr. Jones purchased for me today is so much more than I ever dreamed.

Emma tapped her quill against her chin as she thought about her next words. Her mouth opened slightly and she took a deep shaky breath as she told herself that these words were hers alone. No one else would ever be privy to them, and so she could write down exactly what her thoughts and feelings were as she tried on the different dresses and showed them to Alice and Mr. Jones. She licked her suddenly dry lips and continued writing.

I felt a bit like Cinderella in her beautiful ball gown, with Miss Flora, Miss Fauna, and Miss Meriweather as my fairy godmothers, and Mr. Jones standing in for the prince. Emma’s cheeks heated as she wrote those last words. She cut her eyes over to the bed where Alice was comfortably in the arms of sleep before she re-inked the quill and put it to paper again. Mr. Jones is obviously not a prince, but the way he looked at me with each new garment I tried on made my heart stop. His eyes are so clear and so blue. They’re beautiful and I could get lost in them. She shook her head, trying to banish the fanciful musings from her mind. He was an established landowner and she was only a governess. There’d never be anything between them. But the parallels between the story of Cinderella and my life are clear. A girl with nothing is suddenly given everything. Oh, how I wish… She stopped again, utterly unable to put those deep and hidden desires of her heart into words on the page.

Music reached her ears as she closed her journal and laid it back on the end table. It had been a very long day, but thinking back on all the joy the day had brought, Emma knew it would be some time before she’d be able to sleep. She rose from the sofa and glanced back at Alice, satisfied to see her still sound asleep and slipped out of the door. Mr. Jones was in the adjoining room in case Alice cried out and she’d only be gone a few minutes. Just long enough to find where the beautiful melody was coming from. She descended the stairs to the main lobby of the hotel, following the lovely music to a grand ballroom.

As Emma entered, she saw many couples dancing out in the middle of the floor, while several tables laden with all kinds of sumptuous looking delicacies lined the walls of the room. There appeared to be about a hundred people in the lavishly decorated room, soft candlelight illuminating the space, giving it an almost otherworldly quality. Then her eyes landed on the obviously newly married couple in the center of the dance floor.

They were a truly beautiful couple. Both with blonde hair, hers was piled on top of her head in an elaborate style, held together with strings of pearls woven throughout that echoed the ones sewn on her gorgeous white gown. His countenance appeared to be chiseled from marble, the lines of his face perfect in every way. Normally, Emma would think of marble as cold and unyielding, however, he was anything but as he gazed at his bride. They had eyes only for each other. Their matching smiles were full of joy and love and her heart melted inside her.

“They’re a beautiful couple aren’t they?” a voice whispered from behind her, startling her. She turned, a gasp on her lips and her hand pressed to her heart, to find Mr. Jones standing just behind her, a soft smile on his lips.

“I didn’t see you there, Mr. Jones,” she murmured before glancing back into the room. She smiled as her eyes found the bride and groom again. “Yes, yes they are. Do you know them?” The question flew out of her mouth before she really had a chance to think about it, but she couldn’t think of any other reason for him to be down here. Perhaps he’d been invited to the lavish affair and he’d come down to offer his congratulations since he hadn’t been able to attend the ceremony.

Mr. Jones chuckled in amusement. “No,” he informed her. “This is old Sydney money. I’d never be invited to something like this.” He scratched behind his ear just as he had that morning at the haberdashers and his cheeks turned red. Emma couldn’t help but smile at the nervous mannerism. “My money is much too new for me to be considered a part of the upper echelons of Sydney society. Which this clearly is,” he said, motioning back toward the room. “But I heard the music, and wanted to see where it was coming from.”

“I see.” She paused for a moment as they both continued to watch. “It was the same for me. Alice was asleep, and I only planned on being out of the room for just a few minutes, so I followed it down here.”

They were both silent for a few minutes, simply enjoying the soaring melody of the string quartet and harpsichord.

“This reminds me of my wedding day to Milah,” Mr. Jones said softly. She turned confused eyes on him as he continued. “Not the setting obviously, we were too poor for that, but the way they’re looking at each other. Like there’s no one else in the world. They could be in the outback, surrounded by sagebrush and dingos and they would still be looking at each other the way they are now.”

A sigh escaped her as she nodded her agreement. “After all the blessings I’ve enjoyed these last few months, it seems almost selfish to hope that I may find a love like that someday.”

“Blessings?” he echoed quietly. “Losing your family and traveling thousands of miles to the other side of the world to face an uncertain future… I’m not sure I’d call them blessings.”

“No disrespect, Mr. Jones,” she replied, “but if you’d seen the workhouse, you might think differently.”

“Point taken,” he said, a genuine smile on his lips.

“But, yes, the blessings,” she emphasized the word with a small smile on her lips, “of a good education before coming here, meeting Ruby and Granny at the Depot, and then coming to work in your home, meeting you and Alice… it’s the best outcome I could have hoped for.”

“There’s nothing wrong with hoping to find love one day, Miss Emma,” he said. “You’re young and beautiful.” His cheeks flushed and he scratched behind his ear again before his eyes settled on hers again. They were the deep blue of the sea, and the way he was looking at her made the butterflies in her stomach take flight and her breath catch. “You’re kind and very intelligent. And just seeing you with my daughter the last couple of weeks, I know that your heart is good. You will make a very blessed man a fine wife someday.”

Emma dropped her gaze from his and she could breathe again. She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear before she looked up at him again. The intensity she found there was the same as before and she could positively drown in them without a whimper of complaint.

“Th- thank you, Mr. Jones,” she stammered. “I should probably be getting back,” she said, motioning toward the stairs. He smiled and nodded, holding out his elbow to her. She took it and allowed him to escort her back to their adjoining rooms. Being this close to him was doing nothing to calm her racing heart and heated cheeks, but his words downstairs had touched her in such a way that she could hardly say anything in response. When they reached her door, she turned back to him. “Thank you again, Mr. Jones. For everything.” She hoped the gratefulness in her heart showed in her eyes and that he saw it and took her meaning. “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight, Miss Emma.”

She smiled softly as she closed the door, unaware that he lingered there for a moment longer before returning to his own room.

~*~*~

The next few months passed happily. The bond between Emma and Alice only strengthened, and Emma loved her as if she was her own child. They settled quickly into a routine of studies during the morning hours with the afternoons being filled with lessons in manners and comportment, drawing and painting, dancing, and learning to play the pianoforte. Killian was a frequent observer of Alice’s afternoon lessons and Emma couldn’t help the little stutter her heart gave whenever he joined them.

He was the most handsome man she’d ever laid eyes on and even though he was nearly a decade her senior, she couldn’t help but wish that perhaps someday he might come to see her as more than just his daughter’s governess. A personal relationship between a landowner and a lowly governess was very much frowned upon, but she’d been so welcomed into the family by both Alice and Killian himself, she couldn’t stop her imagination running away with dreams of a happy beginning with Killian and Alice.

The only dark cloud in her new life was the stablemaster, Neal Cassidy. He’d never done or said anything overtly inappropriate, but she’d have to be completely blind to be unaware of his lustful gaze whenever she had need to come to the stable. His words and actions toward her were polite, but she could feel his eyes on her whenever he was near, whether that was inside the stable or not. And the shiver of trepidation she felt in his presence warned her to never be alone with him.

Alice’s 8th birthday was soon approaching and she found herself intimately involved in planning a special dinner and party for her young charge. Being so isolated from other children her own age living so far out of town, Alice didn’t have any friends to invite over, so Emma was determined to do what she could to make the day of her birth memorable.

On the Sabbath before Alice’s birthday, Emma traveled into town to visit Mary Margaret, Ruby, and Granny, and also to do some shopping for Alice. She’d made such wonderful progress in her art lessons, Emma thought it was high time for her to have her own set of charcoals and sketch pad. When she’d discussed the idea with Killian, he’d wholeheartedly agreed. He’d been unable to leave the Station to do the shopping himself, so she’d offered to do it for him during her visit. Since the sketch pad and charcoals would be given to Alice by her father, Emma decided to gift the girl a new bonnet and hair ribbons.

She left immediately after breakfast with Will Scarlet, her usual companion when she and Alice had need of the buggy. Thankfully, she had time to complete her shopping before meeting her sister at a local inn for a meal. It had been over two months since their last visit and they embraced warmly before settling at a table in front of the windows.

As they sat down, Emma’s eyes were drawn to a beautiful peridot ring that sat on the third finger of Mary Margaret’s left hand. One hand flew to her mouth in shock as she took her sister’s hand with the other in order to bring it closer.

“Is this what I think it is?” she breathed.

Mary Margaret giggled with delight. “It is!” she exclaimed. “David asked me to marry him! I didn’t want to tell you in a letter and so just waited until our visit!”

At their surprise visit two months ago, Mary Margaret had told her more about the handsome headmaster of her school she’d mentioned their last night in the Depot. He’d made his interest in her clear, but hadn’t yet begun courting her. In the subsequent weeks in between that visit and this one, Mary Margaret had written faithfully to her every week with new developments in their relationship. And now to see the beautiful ring on her sister’s finger, Emma was overjoyed to share in her happiness.

“When is the happy day?” Emma asked.

“August eighteenth,” Mary Margaret gushed. “Once worship is finished, the wedding will take place.” She grabbed both of Emma’s hands in excitement. “Tell me you’ll be able to come.”

“Of course, I will! I wouldn’t miss it for anything!” Emma exclaimed. “I’m sure Killian wouldn’t mind. In fact, I’m not sure he wouldn’t want to accompany me. Alice as well,” she said.

“We’d make them most welcome,” Mary Margaret assured her sister, speculative thoughts swirling through her mind.

She was so excited to share her joyous news, that she almost missed the longing and hopeful look on Emma’s face when she mentioned that Killian might want to join her for the wedding. When they met two months ago, Emma introduced him as Mr. Jones and in her letters, she always referred to him the same way, but that little slip of the tongue made Mary Margaret wonder if there was more between them than what her beloved younger sister had heretofore expressed. Perhaps some subtle questioning was in order.

“Killian, huh? When did you start calling him Killian?” Emma’s mouth fell open, clearly just realizing she’d called her employer by his first name instead of Mr. Jones. The blush spread across her cheeks and her eyes cut away making Mary Margaret smile indulgently before continuing. “It’s clear from your letters that you are happy there, and that you love Alice, but tell me more about Killian. We only had those couple of hours together when you were here last time. What is he like?”

Emma’s face took on a faraway look. One that told Mary Margaret definitively that her sister was in love. She’d been teased about her own similar look quite enough by her colleagues the past couple of months. Her heart melted at the knowledge and she could only hope Killian Jones shared her sister’s regard.

Emma began telling her about him in fits and starts that only made Mary Margaret’s certainty about her sister’s feelings for her employer all the more steadfast. Emma told her how kind he was, how honorable he was, how well she was treated in his household. The attributes she described reminded Mary Margaret very much of her David and she sent up a prayer that Emma would find love with Mr. Killian Jones. It may have been frowned upon in society, but Mary Margaret believed in love with her whole heart and that love was a part of all happiness. She didn’t want societal norms to get in the way of true love, and so she happily ignored those norms and hoped and prayed for that happiness for her sister, no matter what society thought.

The rest of their visit flew by, including tea with Granny and Ruby back at the Depot. It was the first time the sisters had been back to visit with them since leaving three months prior. Ruby had her own news to share as the General Store owner, Graham Humbert, had finally begun courting her and she was hopeful he’d ask for her hand in the next few weeks.

All too soon, the sisters had to take their leave and Emma had to journey back to Drogheda Station. Tears and hugs between the four were had in abundance as well as promises not to wait for three months before coming back for another visit. Once Emma was safely ensconced in the carriage that would carry her home, she waved out the window at her sister, Ruby, and Granny. When they were out of sight, she settled back and closed her eyes for the long journey.

It had been a wonderful day, but she was ready to return home to her charge and prepare for Alice’s birthday on Tuesday. Killian would be leaving Wednesday morning for an extended trip into Queensland, New Guinea, and New Zealand to look for new shipping markets for the wool and meat Drogheda Station provided. Robin would be standing in Killian’s stead with the day to day operations of the Station while he was gone. She hadn’t had much occasion to really interact with him over the months she’d been there, but he always treated her like a gentleman should and Emma felt no unease about him with Killian gone. She’d certainly miss Killian though. Which was why she wanted Alice’s birthday celebration to be so special. Both for the child and for her father.

~*~*~

Alice’s birthday was as perfect an autumn day as one could wish for, much like the actual day of her birth. It was Killian’s favorite time of year, both for celebrating Alice’s birth and the change of the seasons. The heat of the Australian summer was now fully behind them but the cold winter months were as yet a way off. Losing his wife, just over a year ago now, had obviously cast a pall over his daughter’s birthday last year, but Emma was determined that they’d make new, happier memories to replace the sad ones from their loss the year before. She wanted to make sure Alice was fully celebrated, as she deserved to be.

Emma had begun the day foregoing Alice’s regular studies for the special day, and had instead enlisted her help in the kitchen to assist with the preparations for tonight’s celebratory dinner. Alice was thrilled to help and Killian had been unceremoniously shooed out of the room, his ladies insisting he’d only be in the way.

His ladies.

Dangerous thoughts, those.

But Killian really couldn’t help them. Since Emma had joined his household three months prior, he thought of his beloved Milah- Alice’s mother- less and less. His heartache at losing her had finally begun to heal.

As he watched Emma with Alice during their lessons, his heart would be fit to explode with happiness at seeing the clear love and affinity between them. Alice positively blossomed under Emma’s gentle tutelage. She was so smart and eager to learn that she excelled in every subject she and Emma had undertaken. Just last week, Emma had come to him to discuss accelerating her studies to keep Alice’s insatiable appetite for learning appeased. He couldn’t have asked for a better governess for his precious daughter.

The more time he spent with them, and Emma in particular, the more he realized that the regard with which he held Emma was not entirely of the type a man like him should have for a woman like her. Her beauty never failed to make his breath stutter and his heart rate to increase dramatically. Her grace and mannerisms endeared her to him in a way he’d not experienced since he’d met Milah. Her love for his daughter, her quiet and gentle spirit, in spite of the circumstances she’d faced in her short life spoke to a strength of character that was astounding in one so young. His heart was in imminent danger of becoming hers forever, but societal norms wouldn’t look kindly upon a romantic relationship between them. He’d be more than willing to throw off the conventions of society- he didn’t have much contact with society in the first place- if he knew for sure what her feelings were toward him.

She’d never turned him away when he requested to watch them during their lessons, though he would have expected her to be a little nervous to have him as such a frequent observer. Thinking back on the last few months, he realized his requests had become progressively more frequent as time went on. Why, this month alone, he believed he’d observed them just about every other day. And as he did, his own regard for the lovely young woman in his employ only grew. And if he wasn’t mistaken, Emma seemed to be quite pleased when he did request to join them. Her smile seemed wider, the sparkle in her eyes just a bit more apparent. Perhaps she did hold some affection for him- and not of the familial type.

Perhaps tonight, after Alice’s birthday celebrations, he could have a private word with the lovely Emma Swan.

~*~*~

The birthday dinner was a complete success. Alice told him all about the different things she’d done to help prepare the meal. Of course, Cook and the other kitchen staff took care of the heavy lifting, so to speak, but Alice was thrilled when she’d been allowed- with Emma’s close supervision of course- to help chop the vegetables for the lamb stew they dined on, and then Emma had taught her how to make the Irish soda bread native to her homeland. The meal was completed by plum pudding that Alice helped prepare by doing all the mixing of ingredients before pouring it into the mold. The single candle in the middle of the pudding for Alice to blow out was as bright as her smile and Killian and Emma, as well as the other staff, all cheered when she successfully blew it out after shutting her eyes for a moment and making a wish.

Once the pudding was consumed, Killian and Emma gave Alice their birthday gifts. Alice was delighted with the new bonnet and hair ribbons and asked if they could have a picnic the next day so she’d have occasion to wear it. The sketch pad and charcoals were received with utter shock. Tears gathered in the corners of the child’s eyes and Emma worried for a moment that she wasn’t pleased with the gift. When Killian explained that it had been Emma’s idea given how well she was doing in her drawing lessons, Alice flung herself into first Emma’s and then her father’s arms sobbing out her joy and elation at having her very own sketch pad that she could use anytime she wanted, to draw anything she wanted.

As Emma and Alice were leaving the room to prepare for bed, Killian cleared his throat drawing both their attentions.

“Yes, Papa?” Alice asked.

Killian smiled softly at them. “Happy birthday, Starfish.”

Alice let go of Emma’s hand and ran to her father, throwing her arms around his waist. “Thank you, Papa. It was the best birthday ever.” Killian lifted his eyes to Emma’s and mouthed Thank you to her. She nodded and smiled before turning back towards the door of the room.

“Uh, Emma?”

Emma turned back toward Killian and Alice, who’d released her father and was walking back towards her.

“Yes, Mr. Jones?”

“Could you join me in my office after our evening prayers?”

“Of course.”

Emma couldn’t help but wonder why he wanted to see her. She’d have to curb her curiosity for the next hour as she and Alice went through her bedtime routine before Killian would join them to kiss his daughter goodnight and pray with them. Could he perhaps wish to tell her goodbye personally before he left for six weeks? She’d find out soon enough.

~*~*~

Emma preceded Killian into his office and he shut the doors behind them.

“Please, sit down, Emma,” he invited. She sat down in front of his desk as he moved behind it. He sat down and clasped his hands on top of it, just as he had the day they met.

“You may be wondering why I’ve asked you here,” he said. “I, ah…” he paused and scratched behind his ear. It was a terribly endearing gesture and Emma couldn’t help the smile that broke over her lips at his action.

“I do have to admit, I am curious,” she replied, still smiling softly.

“Well…” he cleared his throat and reached up to loosen his collar just a bit. “As you know, I’m leaving in the morning and will be gone for about six weeks.” His eyes finally met hers and Emma felt her breath leave her completely. His gaze was so intense. So clear. So blue. She could happily drown in them. She was shaken out of her disjointed musings when Killian rose and came around the desk to kneel next to her chair. Emma gasped as he took her hand in his own and met her gaze again.

“Emma, since you’ve come to Drogheda Station…” He looked down at their joined hands before beginning again. “Emma, your presence here…” he paused again, at a loss of how to continue, “...has been most welcome. You came to Drogheda Station and became a part of my family. Mine and Alice’s. You have fit in with us seamlessly and I have difficulty remembering a time when it was just me and Alice.”

Emma didn’t know what to say, but after a shaky exhale, she spoke, her voice barely above a whisper. “You’ve become my family, too. You and Alice.”

He looked down at their clasped hands again, a light blush coloring his cheeks.

“Alice loves you dearly, and I…” His clear blue eyes met hers again and Emma’s chest tightened so much, the gasp she released was more of a sob. “I never thought I’d be able to let go of my Milah. Until I met you.” His voice was just above a whisper and Emma could see tears gathered in the corner of his eyes as he raised his hand to her face. He cupped her chin, and drew her face close to his. “Emma, may I have your permission to court you when I return from my journey?”

Emma’s breath left her on a sharp exhale. She couldn’t believe it. He wanted to court her. All her hopes and dreams were right in front of her and all she had to do was reach out and grasp them.

“Yes, Mr. Jones,” she whispered.

He looked down and chuckled. “Perhaps under the circumstances, you should call me Killian,” he said just before his lips captured her own. It was everything she’d ever dreamed of. It was fire and ice, sweetness and passion, strength and vulnerability all wrapped in a single sensuous package. She’d never been kissed before and had no idea how it could melt her insides and send her soaring at the same time.

This was affection and tenderness.

This was yearning and devotion.

This was hopes and dreams for the future.

This… was love.

Long moments later, Killian pulled back and Emma could breathe again. They remained close, the warm breath from his lips caressing hers just as his mouth had moments ago.

“I must insist that you retire to your room now, Emma,” he said. “I am a gentleman, but you are already testing my resolve.” Emma felt a thrill of feminine pride go through her at his words and she rose to her feet, Killian following.

He took her hands in his own again and raised them both to his lips, kissing the backs of her hands and her knuckles before turning them over and kissing her on the center of each palm.

She lifted one hand to his face and gently cradled his chin. “Goodnight. Stay safe. Come back to me, Killian.”

“I will come back to you, Emma,” he promised her. He turned his face into her hand and pressed his lips to the inside of her wrist, sending a sweet shiver up her spine. “If there’s one thing I’m good at, it’s surviving. Goodnight, my love. Until we meet again.”

He released her hand and she walked to the doors of the room, turning back one last time to look at the man she loved. She left the room, determined to keep the gathered tears from falling until she was in the privacy of her room, where she would begin counting the days until she’d see him again.

~*~*~

Wednesday was another perfect autumn day. Just right for Emma and Alice to be able to enjoy a picnic by the creek at the edge of the pasture. They were up early enough to bid Killian farewell, but once his carriage was out of sight, they returned to the house and began Alice’s morning lessons.

Having Killian gone was proving to be quite a distraction to her young charge and Emma had to refocus Alice’s attention on her studies more than once throughout the morning hours. When she finally deemed Alice getting close enough to finishing her work that she could be left alone for a few moments, Emma rose.

“I’m going to go gather up our picnic lunch and head on out to the stable to inform them to get the horses ready so we can head straight out as soon as you’re done with your work, alright, Alice?”

Alice looked up and smiled, nodding her head enthusiastically. “Yes, ma’am.”

“Can I trust you to attend to your work without me here? You’re almost done.” Emma hated to ask the question, but with the level of distraction present this morning, she had to have an affirmative answer before she’d leave Alice alone.

“Yes, Miss Emma,” Alice promised. “I’ll be finished in just a few minutes.”

“Very well, come to the stable as soon as you’re done. Don’t forget your new bonnet,” Emma teased with a smile.

Alice patted the bonnet that sat on the side of her desk and smiled widely. “I won’t.”

Emma left Alice alone and went down to the kitchen to find the picnic lunch Cook had prepared for them. She found boiled eggs, roast mutton, and root vegetables inside the sturdy basket. There was also the left over soda bread from the party the night before.

She picked up the basket and walked out the back of the house toward the stable. She sat the basket on the ground outside the door and stepped inside.

It was quiet in the stable and Emma wondered if the stable hands were all at lunch. It was no matter. She had watched the hands prepare their horses many times over the last few months and was fairly confident she could saddle the horses herself.

She’d just finished saddling Alice’s pony when she turned to see the stablemaster standing in the door of the stall. Her breath caught, very much aware they were alone in the stable.

She dropped a small curtsey and then met his gaze. Fear skittered across her skin, raising gooseflesh in its wake.

“Mr. Cassidy?” she asked, trying to keep the tremor out of her voice. One thing she’d learned out here in the bush the last three months, when a predator smelled fear, they attacked. “Did you need something?”

“Oh, yeah,” he said, raising his eyebrows slightly, “I need something all right.” His voice was pitched low with an edge of something Emma couldn’t identify. It made her heart rate pick up even more than the initial fright his appearance had caused. He looked out into the main area of the stable. “Where’s Alice?”

Emma swallowed thickly. “She’s just outside waiting for me to saddle our horses for a picnic. She wanted to wear her new bonnet I gave her for her birthday yesterday.”

“Really? I didn’t see her outside when I came in.” He turned back toward her and took a step into the stall, his gaze now lewd, his smile lecherous. “I think you’re lying to me, Emma.”

His use of her name instead of Miss Swan sent Emma into a panic. Alice would be out here any moment, and if she could placate him somehow, perhaps she’d be able to escape with her innocence and dignity intact.

“Yes, you’re right, Mr. Cassidy,” she admitted on a shaky exhale, her stomach rolling with her fear and anxiety over the situation she found herself in. “Alice is inside finishing up her morning studies. She’ll be out for our picnic lunch any moment.”

“Oh, a moment is all I need,” he muttered, a sneer on his lips. He lunged for her, grabbing her by the arm and dragging her outside the stall, slamming the gate closed so the pony couldn’t escape. He spun her around and pressed her up against the side of the stall. Emma tasted blood and closed her eyes, lifting a prayer that Alice would be delayed just a few more minutes… for both their sakes.

~*~*~

Alice skipped out the back door of the house toward the stable to see Miss Emma running towards her. She couldn’t see her very well because of the distance, but Alice realized immediately something wasn’t right. Once she was close enough to really see, she saw Miss Emma was hurt. There was a dark bruise high on the side of her face and her lip was split and very swollen. The beautiful golden hair that Alice so admired was falling out of the braid they’d worked on so carefully this morning, and there was a rip in the bodice of her dress, exposing the shift and corset underneath. Her eyes were red and swollen, like she’d been crying.

“Miss Emma, what’s wrong?” Alice exclaimed. “What happened?”

“Nothing,” she gasped. “Nothing’s wrong. Everything’s fine. I tripped and fell inside the stable, catching my face on the side of Dinah’s stall. I just need to go inside and get this all cleaned up. We’ll have to do the picnic another day. I’m sorry, Alice.”

“Of course,” Alice agreed. She’d been looking forward to their picnic, but taking care of Miss Emma was more important. She took the basket from her and turned back toward the house.

“Don’t say anything to anyone about this, okay, Alice?” Miss Emma asked in a low murmur. If she hadn’t been standing so close to her, she probably wouldn’t have heard it.

Alice looked up into her beloved governess’ face. There was a look in her eyes she’d never seen before- it almost made Alice afraid- but she knew that Miss Emma loved her and would do anything to protect her. Just like her Papa. In the last year, Alice’s memory of her mother was beginning to fade. She could no longer remember her voice or the color of her eyes. But the feelings provoked in her by thoughts of her mother were now wrapped in the golden light of memory- hazy at the edges, but sharp in their recollection. In the absence of the woman who’d raised her, the love and loyalty and obedience given to her was now being transferred to Miss Emma. If Miss Emma didn’t want anyone to know what had happened in the stable, then Alice would obey her.

Alice nodded her head slowly, willing to do anything she asked. “Yes, ma’am.”

~*~*~

The six weeks were finally over and her Papa was coming home today! He’d never been away from home so long, and while, of course, she had Miss Emma caring for her, she’d missed her Papa desperately. Getting letters from him every week helped some, but she couldn’t wait to actually see him and hug him and hear the tales of all his travels and everything he’d done and seen. She was absolutely beside herself and Miss Emma finally gave up trying to keep her focused on her studies. Alice glanced at her and saw the paleness that had been so evident the last week or so was even more pronounced today.

“Miss Emma, why don’t you go lie down and rest?” she asked. “I’ll draw in my sketchbook and I promise that I’ll wake you as soon as Papa arrives home.”

Miss Emma put a hand on her stomach, closed her eyes, and sighed. “You know, my sweet Alice, I think I will do exactly that. As excited as I am that your Papa is coming home today…” Her statement was interrupted by a huge yawn, “I am exhausted. You’re sure you’ll be ok on your own here for a little while?”

Alice grinned, eager to set Miss Emma’s mind at ease. “I’m sure. You go rest.”

She nodded and moved into the next room, leaving the door open so she could wake quickly if she was needed. Alice could see her lie down on her bed from where she sat and in moments, Miss Emma was snoring softly.

Alice got out her sketchbook and charcoals and began to sketch as she waited for her Papa to arrive.

Suddenly, there was a loud commotion outside. It may have felt like it was only a few minutes, but it must have been at least an hour given how much of the picture she was drawing was completed. Miss Emma always laughed at how caught up she’d get in her sketching that she wasn’t aware of any time passing at all, and that had certainly happened again today. The picture of Miss Emma asleep on her bed was nearly finished, but the sound of a carriage outside was difficult to miss. Alice looked out the window and flew from the room, her promise to wake Emma completely forgotten.

“Papa, Papa!” she cried, bursting from the door and flinging herself into his arms. He laughed and spun her around, hugging her tightly.

Killian pulled back and looked into his daughter’s face. Oh, how he had missed her. It had been a productive and successful trip, but he couldn’t tolerate being away from the ones he loved that long ever again.

“You know, Starfish,” he said, “I do believe you’ve grown a foot since I left!”

Alice smirked, recognizing his teasing tone, a pretty blush coloring her cheeks.

“Oh, Papa,” she scolded lightly. “ You know I haven’t.”

“Where’s Miss Emma?” he asked, searching the front of the house for her, eager to see the woman he loved again.

“She’s lying down and resting, Papa,” Alice informed him.

“Resting?” he asked, confused. “At this time of day?” He looked at his daughter and caught her furrowed brow. “What’s the matter, Starfish? Is there something wrong?”

He moved toward the front of the house and Alice clung to his neck as he carried her inside. He walked straight to his room and deposited her on the bed. He pulled off his boots and sat next to her.

“Did something happen, Starfish? Why the furrowed brow?” He smoothed his thumb over her forehead until the lines disappeared and she looked up at him with love and happiness at his return shining in her eyes.

“I missed you so much, Papa,” she said, hugging him tightly again.

Killian returned her embrace. “I missed you too, my love. Now tell me what’s troubling you.”

Alice pressed her lips into a thin line, almost as if she was hesitant to say what was on her mind.

“Alice,” he urged, using her name instead of her nickname to impress on her the seriousness of his words, “You can tell me anything.”

Her blue eyes met his and Killian found himself a bit nervous to hear what she had to say. He hadn’t said anything to her about courting Emma before he’d left. Could Emma have said something to her? And perhaps Alice wasn’t as happy as he’d thought she’d be?

“There’s something wrong with Miss Emma,” she said. It was the last thing he’d expected to come out of her mouth and Killian had to double check to make sure he’d heard her correctly.

“Something wrong? With Miss Emma?” Alice nodded. “What is it?”

“She hasn’t been feeling well.”

“How has she not been feeling well?” Alice shrugged, and Killian pressed. “What exactly makes you say she hasn’t been feeling well?”

“She’s tired all the time,” she explained. “She hasn’t been waking up with me in the morning, I’ve had to come in and wake her to help me with my hair. She’s been sick, too. She tries to hide it, but I know that she’s been sick in the morning after breakfast. And sometimes after lunch and dinner, too.”

“How long has this been going on, Starfish?”

Alice shrugged again. “Since not long after you left.”

“And you say she’s asleep now?”

“Mmhmm,” she nodded.

“Ok, as soon as she wakes up- don’t wake her up yourself, understand, Starfish?- tell her I’d like to see her in my office.” Killian gathered his daughter in his arms and hugged her tightly. “Let me get unpacked, and you go down and ask what Cook has planned for dinner.”

“Yes, Papa.” Alice skipped out of the room and Killian frowned.

After stating his intentions before leaving, he was sure she held him in the same regard as he held her. He had a lot of trouble believing that she would betray him. But, if what he suspected was going on with Emma was correct, he was going to need some answers. Answers that only Emma had.

~*~*~

It was another hour before a knock sounded on his office door.

“Enter,” he called.

The door opened and Alice bounded in followed by Emma. It was a very good thing that Alice was here to distract him slightly, because if she hadn’t been, his jaw would have dropped in shock and dismay.

Emma was sick.

There was no doubt.

She looked to have lost a stone since he’d been gone. The dress she wore hung on her overly thin frame. Her skin was pale and her hair hung limply around her face. Even though she’d just awoken, it was clear that she was utterly exhausted. She looked like a stiff winter breeze would blow her over.

“Thank you, Alice,” he said, giving her a big hug and kiss. “Would you go ask Cook to prepare some ginger tea and some sandwiches for myself and Miss Emma?”

“Yes, Papa.”

She skipped out of the doors of his office leaving Killian alone with the woman he loved.

“Emma,” he breathed, moving toward her, his hand outstretched.

“Killian.” Her smile trembled, her tear filled gaze holding all the love and longing he hoped to see. She took his hand and he pulled her close, enveloping her in his arms. He held her tightly, turning his nose into her hair, inhaling her scent, imprinting her on his soul. This was his Emma and whatever had happened, he was sure she hadn’t betrayed him.

He gathered her in his arms and sat in the chair in front of his desk, still holding her closely on his lap.

“You’re with child.” It was a statement, not a question. With the evidence in her body before him and Alice’s observations, Killian had no doubt.

Emma buried her face in his neck, unable to meet his piercing gaze. He may have said he loved her and wanted to court her, but with the reality of him knowing that she carried another man’s child, there was no way under heaven that he would still want her. That he would still allow her to remain as governess to his daughter.

“Emma, look at me.” She felt his finger under her chin, exerting subtle pressure, urging her to lift her gaze to his. She allowed him to lift her chin, but once he stopped, she couldn’t bring herself to open her eyes. To tell him the truth. “Emma, please.”

It was the pleading in his voice that finally broke her resolve. She opened her tear filled eyes to behold the same in his.

“Tell me what happened.”

Taking a deep breath, the entire thing spilled out of her. She’d kept it bottled up, buried, never again to see the light of day. But with the growing certainty that she was with child, she knew it was only a matter of time before Killian found out and her life as she knew it would be over. Killian would surely send her away and she’d lose her family again. But as she told him everything, he continued to hold her close, stroking her hair tenderly even as his eyes cycled through sorrow, fury, dismay and finally settled on controlled fortitude.

He looked her in the eyes, love and devotion swirling in their depths, and cupped her face in his hands. “Emma, I can’t tell you how sorry I am that this happened. I never should have left. If I’d been here, this never would have happened.”

“Killian, no,” she replied. “You can’t blame yourself. This trip was necessary for your and Alice’s future.” She paused for a moment, her unsure gaze meeting his. Did he still love her? “For our future,” she stuttered, haltingly.

He smiled gently. “Yes, Emma. For our future. I love you and you have nothing to fear. Either from the future or him. I will stand by you. I will marry you, and claim the child as my own. If you’ll have me.”

At his words, Emma could hold back her tears no longer.

“I love you, Killian,” she sobbed. “And yes, I will be yours forever. I want nothing more than to be your wife, and a mother to Alice.”

“You can stay here with me while I confront him, or you can wait outside,” he told her. “I will not force you to remain in the room with him, unless you wish it.”

Emma shook her head. “I’ve stayed as far away from him as I could since it happened. And I’d just as soon as never lay eyes on him again.”

“Very well, then. Wait in the parlor while I send for him. I’ll come to you when he’s gone.”

Emma nodded, rose, and left the room.

~*~*~

Killian sat behind his desk when there was a knock on the doors.

“Enter.”

The door opened and Neal Cassidy walked in.

“You wanted to see me, Sir?”

Killian didn’t look up, but continued to peruse the correspondence in front of him. After waiting for several long moments, he finally met Cassidy’s gaze with a hard stare. He didn’t invite him to sit. He wanted the man to be on his feet for what was about to happen.

“I understand from Miss Emma…” He paused for a moment to see if the mention of Emma’s name provoked any reaction from the man in front of him. He wasn’t surprised to see nothing but a slight widening of his eyes and a muscle tic in his jaw. “That you violated her in a most disgusting and vile manner. What have you to say for these charges?”

Neal snorted in derision. “You’re going to believe some Irish whore…”

Killian rose from behind his desk and slammed both his fists down on the surface. The move was so sudden, Neal choked on his words.

“Don’t you ever say such things about my intended.” His words were low and deadly and Neal Cassidy got just a glimpse of how much trouble he was truly in. “Yes, I believe her. Because she is the epitome of honesty and integrity. The authorities have already been notified. They’ll be here within the hour. If you are not off my property by then, they’ve been given leave to shoot to kill. I’d hurry, if I were you.”

“I’ll hurry all right.”

Neal reached for the gun at his hip, but Killian was ready for him. He got his shot off first, hitting Cassidy in the gut. He fell to the floor, but still got his own shot off, just grazing Killian’s left bicep. A hiss of pain left his lips as Killian walked around his desk to see the man writhing in agony before him, his pistol on the ground. He knew the wound he’d inflicted was deadly, but that it could be hours, perhaps even days before it would eventually kill him. And as pleased as that would have made him- for Cassidy to have just a taste of the suffering he’d inflicted on Emma, and thus on him- he knew that as long as that gun was within reach, he was still a threat. Killian leveled his own pistol in front of him and shot Cassidy right in the middle of the forehead. A thin trickle of blood leaked from the hole, down the bridge of his nose, his sightless eyes fixed on the ceiling.

The door to his study crashed open as Emma ran in, followed by Robin.

“What the hell happened?” he cried.

Emma flung herself into his arms and buried her face in his neck.

“I’m alright, Love. You’re safe now.”

Emma sobbed into Killian’s neck barely conscious of him lifting her in his arms and going around to his desk chair where he sat down, holding her close and murmuring words of comfort in her ear. She only knew that when she’d heard two gunshots in quick succession, she’d feared the worst. She’d run from the parlor and had heard the third gunshot just as she’d burst through the doors. She was hardly aware of Robin wrapping the body in a white sheet and dragging him out as Killian continued to hold and comfort her.

She felt something wet under her hand. She drew back, her mouth dropping in a horrified Oh when she saw the tear in Killian’s shirt from the bullet and the blood soaking into the fabric.

“You’re shot!” she cried.

“Tis merely a scratch, darling.” He smiled disarmingly at her. “I got him first.”

“Oh, thank God,” she breathed, quickly unbuttoning his shirt so she could get a better look at the wound. Once she got the shirt open and off him, she looked at the injury with a critical eye. “It doesn’t need stitches, but it does need to be cleaned and bandaged.”

She turned to Robin who’d returned from disposing of the trash and asked for a few items that would help her accomplish that. As soon as he left, she turned back to Killian.

“I wish it hadn’t come to that, Emma,” he said, sorrow and apology obvious in his eyes and tone. “But there’s nothing I won’t do to keep you safe. To keep the ones I love safe.”

“I know, Killian,” she breathed. She dropped her forehead down to his and closed her eyes. “And I’m so thankful to be counted among those you love.”

Her lips found his in a gentle caress designed to show him everything in her heart that she couldn’t put into words.

As he held her close and deepened the kiss, Emma’s heart soared. This was her Killian. The man she loved. She was his forever and an orphan girl no longer.

The End ~*~*~

Thank you so much for reading and sharing! I'd love to know what you think!

#orphan girl #krystal writes #art by krystal #inspired by the song

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