#she already did it earlier and she wouldn’t let me talk and was always trying to guess what i was gonna say

[peachyfyodor]

my mom is gone for two days and i'm stuck alone with my sister during that time wish me luck 🥲👍🏻

[nyctoaerah]

⋆♱⋆DOLL SMITTEN

SYPNOSIS: In which, Suguru Geto can’t bear to let you go and was unable to accept your death, so he made a doll version of you instead.

CONTENT WARNINGS: Dead Dove: Do Not Eat. Dark themes, Disturbing things, Stalking, Unhealthy Obsession, Slight Gore, Suguru is a total creep, not so normal ‘dolls.’

PAIRINGS: Yandere! Suguru Geto x Fem! Reader

SERIES MASTERLIST

━━━━𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐎𝐍𝐄: 𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐒𝐄𝐂𝐑𝐄𝐓𝐒.

━━━━𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑 𝐒𝐈𝐍𝐂𝐄 𝐒𝐔𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐔 𝐋𝐄𝐅𝐓 them earlier to “attend to important business” probably to massacre some non-sorcerers — or some of the curse collecting monkeys had come, the hasaba twins grew bored in his absence.

It was dreary outside the manor walls after all.

But it was more boring inside.

Thus, the twins had wandered the sunny courtyard, swatting lazily at browning blossoms drifting down from the gnarled cherry trees and played some idle games to waste time, but fuck, was it pure torture not having suguru for two reasons.

One, they had no one to bother.

Two, there’s currently no electricity.

And damn, did they missed Suguru.

“How boring,” Nanako grumbled, coffee colored eyes heavy with discontent as they drifted towards her sister. Mimiko lay nearby, back pressed on a tree with her eyes fluttered closed and her small doll hugged tightly to her chest that heaved with every breath.

Nanako pouted to see that her sister was already adapting in suguru’s absence.

“C’mon, mimiko! don’t sleep on me yet,” Nanako implored with a slight whine, as she placed a hand on the brunette’s shoulder and began to shake.

At the sound, Mimiko opened her eyes, long lashes fluttering up.

“I know... we’ve got nothing to entertain us,” she said with a sigh to match her sister’s mood. 

“So let’s just sleep instead.”

“Boring!”

Nanako said as her eyes scanned the sky, looking at the clouds and trying to find anything stimulating when a question suddenly popped unbidden into her mind.

“Mimiko,” She called out. “Have you ever wondered about Master Geto and why he always kept his room locked?” she asked.

At the name, Mimiko’s brow furrowed deeply in thought, her gaze drifting away slightly as she contemplated about nanako’s words.

It was true that suguru had always kept his room locked, and no one was permitted entry to his private place.

“Like, aren’t you curious?” she asked, tipping her head in a way that caused strands of caramel to spill over her slender neck.

“I mean, why would he keep it locked all the time?” 

She leaned back against the old oak tree, placing both hands behind her neck in a leisurely stretch.

Mimiko tightened her arms around the doll in her lap, peering at her twin from beneath long lashes.

“Come on, nanako... stop insinuating stuff,” she scoffed, though a spark of curiosity flickered in her eyes despite her words.

“We should respect Master Geto’s privacy.”   

Nanako pouted theatrically, jutting her bottom lip out in a look Mimiko knew meant trouble — the girl was probably planning on snooping on suguru’s room.

“I’m not! I hold him in the highest regard! I love him too much to talk shit about him”

“Well then, if you hold him in high regards then learn to respect his privacy.” she muttered, wanting desperately to change the subject but unable to look Nanako in the eye.

Although, mimiko is curious, and as tempting as it was to give in to curiosity, she knew better than to poke her nose where it didn’t belong.

Mimiko gave nanako a dismissive wave, but nanako just wouldn’t budge.

“Indulge me just a little, Mimikoooo!”

“Can’t a girl be curious...?”

Mimiko rolled her eyes, trying her best to ignore the images that now flashed behind her lids — images of what stuff they might find in his room.

“Fine, fine,” she sighed, shoulders slumping

“I do admit that at times i kind of wondered about it..” Mimiko admitted slowly,

“but i mean, he has every rights to keep it locked. and want no one to enter. It’s his room after all.” Another heavy sigh escaped her.

“Mimiko, what if Master Geto is hiding a dildo in his room?” Nanako blurted out bluntly, her words dropping like a bomb.

Mimiko’s eyes widened in disbelief, her head whipping around to face her sister.

“What.” Mimiko looked flabbergasted as she stared at Nanako as if she had just sprouted a third eye. The idea seemed ludicrous, almost comical in its absurdity.

What the hell is wrong with nanako?

And why on earth would it matter if Suguru had a dildo hidden away in his room?

“What would he even do with a dildo? I mean, he has a...” Mimiko’s sentence trailed off abruptly as she let out a frustrated sigh, her hand meeting her forehead in exasperation.

“Even if he did have one, it’s none of our business,” Mimiko stated firmly, trying to reason with her sister.

“Come on, Nanako, we really shouldn’t be talking about this kind of thing, it’s wrong — we’re underage for fuck’s sake...”

“Hmph...” Nanako huffed, she knew that Mimiko had a point.

They both knew they shouldn’t be discussing this. Suguru would probably give them a stern scolding if he ever caught wind of the conversation.

The image of Suguru, standing with his arms crossed, delivering at least three hours detailing every reason invading his privacy was wrong flashed through Nanako’s mind, making her suppress a giggle.

But then, the urge to satisfy her curiosity was too strong to resist.

“What if we just...” Nanako’s voice trailed off as she leaned in closer to Mimiko, a mischievous smile dancing on her lips.

“Sneak into his room?” 

Mimiko’s expression was a mix of disbelief and trepidation as she stared at her sister.

“Nanako, shut up.” she finally said, her tone firm and resolute.

“We are not going to sneak into master geto’s room.” Mimiko knew the consequences of such a risky move, and she wasn’t about to entertain the idea.

Nanako raised an eyebrow, a stubborn pout forming on her face.

“Come on, Mimiko, I know you’re curious too," she insisted, reaching out to grasp Mimiko's wrist and gently tugging her.

“Quit it. Invading master Geto’s private space is crossing a line.”

“Nuh-uh. You’re just as curious as I am and you know it. We’ll be really careful — he’ll never find out. Please, Mimiko!”

Mimiko frowned, hesitating as her sister's contagious excitement took hold. Part of her did yearned to satisfy their curiosities, even if it was risky. But she knew Suguru’s strict rules were for good reason.

But then...

Surely, they won’t be in trouble if they did sneaked in his room, right?

As long as suguru won’t find out.

Mimiko sighed loudly, her narrow shoulders drooping with the weight of exhaustion as she eyed Nanako.

She wanted to refuse, but nanako’s puppy dog eyes and pleading smile were hard to resist.

Mimiko bit her bottom lip as she considered giving in, wondering if exploring was really worth the risk of getting in trouble if they were caught. She let out an annoyed groan, dragging out the sound to further express her reluctance. 

“Fine, whatever. We’ll go,” Mimiko said with another sigh. Nanako squealed delightedly and bounced up and down on the balls of her feet.

“But how are we even supposed to get in? You know that master geto padlocks his door everytime.”

“Ah don’t worry about that,” Nanako replied with a mischievous grin, waving her hand dismissively. She reached into her pocket and pulled out a bobby pin, holding it up between two slender fingers.

“I’ve gotten pretty good at using these bad boys to jimmy open locked doors. We’ll be inside that room in no time, just wait and see!”

Mimiko looked at nanako with a deadpan. 

“Nanako, you’re a menace.”

━━━━𝐇𝐄𝐘 𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋, 𝐎𝐏𝐄𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐒

Nanako’s fingers fumbled clumsily with the bobby pin, a tumult of trepidation, enthusiasm, and anticipation, swirled chaotically within her, sending flutters of anxiety coursing through her veins.

Fuck, why is she suddenly nervous about this?

Taking a deep, steadying breath to quell the queasiness in her stomach, she pressed on, jimmying the pin with shaking hands until she heard a soft click as the lock gave way.

Beside her,  Mimiko clutched her doll tightly, as her brown eyes peered nervously in Suguru’s bedroom. 

Suguru’s room was tidy and sparse, as was his way — books neatly lined the shelves, papers stacked in orderly piles upon his desk. Her gaze drifted to the photographs taped to the far wall, snapshots of them.

All seemed normal here.... Nothing out of ordinary.

“i think... i’ll be staying here outside.. as look out.” mimiko said.

“you sure?” 

“mhm.”

“okay then...” nanako mumbled as she took a deep breath.

Stepping further within, Nanako’s eyes suddenly widened as they locked at the floor-to-ceiling collage affixed to the wall above Suguru’s work table.

It was strange.

Among the framed pictures hung neatly on Suguru’s wall, one photograph caught Nanako’s eye. She stepped closer for a better look. 

Within the frame was a girl with [H/c] hair and [E/c] eyes. However, her face is scarred. Like really scarred.

Who is that girl?

Intrigued, Nanako’s gaze flitted hither and thither, assimilating further details.

Nanako gawked, for there were numerous photos of the same maiden were strategically arranged. 

Her gaze drifted at another photograph, the same girl again, wrapped in a laugh as Suguru hoisted her onto his back.

A third snapshot looked like a stolen shot though . It showed in suguru feeding the [H/c] haired girl a puff of blue cotton candy, unaware her moment with Suguru had been seized by his camera lens without her knowing. 

There was a polaroid showed the girl clad in Suguru’s oversized clothes, appearing snug and at ease, while Suguru gazed at her with an unmistakable adoration in his eyes, a love so evident it seemed to leap off the photo.

And as Nanako continued to peruse the photos, a sense of unease began to settle within her.

One snapshot depicted the girl peacefully asleep in her bed, another showed her lathering under the shower’s cascading water, and yet another captured her nonchalantly eating a meal.

In one particularly unsettling image, the girl was giggling alongside another man, his face blurred out with a bold red ‘x’ mark, his blonde hair contrasting sharply with Suguru’s dark locks.

Counting now, there must have been nearly a dozen photographs featuring this one girl prominently. And yet Suguru had never breathed a word of her existence.

Who the hell is this girl?

Whenever Mimiko and herself pried for juicy dating deets — or literally anything about suguru’s love life, he would wave them off, insisting his love life was dull as a doornail

So what gives?

Who was occupying so much valued wall space in Suguru’s private quarters?

And why the secrecy?

Nanako’s body suddenly jolted as Mimiko’s voice cut through her reverie.

“Nanako,” her sister called out again, an undercurrent of alarm rippling beneath the surface of her normally calm tones.

Slowly, almost reluctantly, Nanako dragged her eyes away from the unsettling Polaroid on the wall.

Her gaze trailed across the floorboards until coming to rest upon Mimiko’s petite form, hunched defensively over a large  drawer.

“What?” Nanako began, the single syllable emerging as little more than a hollow rasp.

“Look at this.”

“Look at what—” Yet before she could continue, words failed her entirely. For as Mimiko wrenched open the drawer with a force that belied her slight frame, a ghastly sight was revealed that turned Nanako’s blood to ice water in her veins.

Clasped loosely in Mimiko’s grip was a life-sized doll—its lifeless porcelain features contorted into a rictus of torment, wisps of tangled [h/c] locks spilling over slender shoulders.

...

Fuck, it was the same girl in the picture.

...

The unblinking stare of those glassy eyes unsettled Nanako far more than any picture ever could.

What the hell possessed suguru to recreate another in such a voyeuristic manner? Nanako’s thoughts whirled with confusion as Mimiko wrinkled her nose.

“Blegh.. this one smells so bad...” she remarked, hefting the doll away.

Nanako winced — for it was true, there was the cloying stench emanating from its sodden dress, the putrid scent of decay and something even darker she dared not name.

“I didn’t knew master geto liked dolls... but he had a shitty taste in them..” mimiko said bluntly.

Nanako crept forward, crouching low to examine the doll more closely. As she lifted it to inspect further, the unmistakable stench of decay assaulted her senses, and she has to breathe through her mouth to ignore the shitty smell. Cunning crimson stains marred the fabric, and it looked like it hasn’t been washed for ages.

“It looks so shitty... And smelly... It looks like it’s in need for some stitching...” Nanako turned towards mimiko. “don’t you think so?”

“I’m certain I could have repaired this for Master Geto, had he only asked,” Mimiko continued, though Nanako’s mind reeled with confusion.  

She was still feeling creeped out, because not only did Suguru keep countless images chronicling his obsession, but he also had a life sized doll of the girl...?

Her eyes traced the staining to a zipper hidden amongst the matted fabric. A dreadful premonition took hold as she grasped the zipper between her fingers. she pulled the zipper down slowly—and froze, petrified by what lay beneath the veil.

There, curled amidst the stuffing, was not cotton nor fluff, but viscera and gore of flesh once living.

human flesh.

━━━━𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐘 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐃𝐎𝐋𝐋𝐒

𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐕 || 𝐍𝐄𝐗𝐓

©𝐍𝐲𝐜𝐭𝐨𝐚𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐡 || 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

𝐀/𝐍: this story is gonna be much more darker than my other fics:333 and no, it’s not gonna focus on suguru being obsessed with the doll, it’s gonna be diff soon bcs the reader’s soul is inside the doll. aswell as her body.

𝐖𝐀𝐓𝐓𝐏𝐀𝐃 𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐈𝐎𝐍: faster updates here.

𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐬, 𝐫𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐬, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐥𝐲 𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝.♡

[sillysiluriforme]

Planes pass by overhead in a milky tea green sky direction Charle de gaul airport.

She hasn’t been grounded for this long in 4 years now, not since the hospital. She tries to think about Zoey and her grubby little hands. The way she looks up at her. Her babbling.

It’s all futile, her third sex-on-the beach has rendered her brain mushy and uncooperative. She used to hate being drunk. She still does, so it’s particularly perplexing she finds herself inebriated so often.

A pair of perfect manicured fingernails grazes her shoulder.

“Audreeeeeey…” comes Emilie’s pitch perfect practiced whine.

“I’m talking to you !” She ends her sentence on a higher note, indicating playfulness. Her bronze skin, dusted with crystals of pool droplets, sparkles in the light of the terrace- curtsy of her fresh perfect tan.

She furrows her brows through Audrey’s sunglasses. The green of her eyes is exacerbated, almost comical. Like the warning label on a bottle of helium.

“Whaddidyasay ?” The slurred words slither out of her mouth like drool. Why do people even drink ?

She puffs up her cheek and readjusts her hold on the sleeping toddler in her arms clover- Chloe. Chloe, after her mother in law- not that she’d ever met her- Some gold digging cover girl with a strong stomach and very little shame, from what she gathered.

Maybe that’s what her Andre wants for her at the end of the day. A well-to-do husband, some kids, a big house and as little shame as possible… he’s boring like that.

“ Here I was getting sentimental and you just ignore me, how could you be so cruel ?”

Chloe doesn’t stir in her arms, somehow, despite the brat normally sleeping as sleep as light as a feather. The mass of perfect honey colored curls go up and down as she photogenically lays her restful little head on Emilie’s chest. It’s like she’s doing it on purpose.

Audrey, working at half the speed she usually would, languidly blinks at her. No point in playing her verbal games. Emilie always wins.

She sighs with all the gusto of a mistress of the silver screen and repeats herself.

“I was saying I used to wish I had met you younger.”

“…” the congealed remains of her mostly-fruit-juice-cocktails have seeped into the crevices of her synapses, the coughing machine chugs along. “Why ?” She says flatly, without too much interest.

“I didn’t know you actually had curly hair till the day we all moved out, did I ever tell you that ?”

Audrey goes to push her sunglasses up her forehead almost pokes herself in the eye.

“What did you think I was doing when I woke up earlier than you everyday?”

The perfect hand lurches like a snake to grasp her arm, like otherwise she’d run off and miss hearing her out. “You’re missing the point.” Audrey’s eyes roll in their sockets from the snake to the grass-green eyes.

“You wouldn’t let me in, ever, not of your own will.” Her mouth curves down and her brows curve up. “It… hurt me.” Her voice wobbles in a controlled manner not unlike a prop laminated metal sheet. “My first friend- my best friend, trapping me at arm’s length… so during lectures I’d try to imagine you,”

“And me…” and there’s something she manages to catch for an instant. Something soft and fidgety held in her gaze. “As schoolgirls- sometimes even younger, already friends, shared secrets and make believe memories.”

And with a sharp snap it’s gone, cold and still forever. Emilie’s gaze rises past Audrey, as it often does when she goes on a tangent. Her fingers tangle in the little girl’s curls.

“I missed you, you know. It’s not the same without you here. Im so happy you’re home now.” Glossy pink lips plucker into a heart shaped smile. The perfect snake coils through perfect yellow swirls to unearth Chloe’s sun kissed forehead before planting her lips on the unmarked surface. The glittering pink stain stands alone like a flagpole in no man’s land.

Audrey’s foot catches the leg of her deckchair and narrowly misses eating shit on the sharp white tiles when she stands up. Emilie still reaches out like it’d help in any way.

“I want another glass.”

[euaphora]

give it to me on the daily!

✎ᝰ toji x reader

as much as toji hated to admit to things, he loved letting people know the ways you made him feel and what better way to admit his feelings for you than alcohol in his system.

He went out drinking with his friends for a couple drinks, his eyes felt so heavy and body felt like it was going to collapse.

It was a good thing Geto had called you earlier since he always knew before hand how much toji would drink.

“…like around twelve is good, we’re at the bar with like the thingy with the outside poster that says “enter if you dare” I think it’s for Halloween or something…so come when it’s time to pick him up.” Geto slurs, alcohol hitting him hard in the face already.

He would rarely go for a couple drinks, especially if it was with his friends, geto and gojo. Though, this week was kicking him in the ass so what better way to end the weekend off than with his friends and a couple drinks.

You got into you and got the car warm with the heater, holding you hands out while you start the car. Checking the time you realize it’s barely about to hit eleven so you get on the freeway and head downtown to the bar Geto mentioned.

Slowly pulling up to the gas station and parking your car, you step inside the store and buy some snacks for your boyfriend to munch on when you would pick up, not trying to get ready to hear his rambling. He would always get so hungry when he would go out to drink and begged you to make food or pull up to a fast food restaurant.

Walking over to the door to the bar you can hear someone whistling in you direction behind you and hear them screaming names at you, getting cat called pissing you off with the way how nasty guys could be. As soon as you enter you could immediately hear the loud laughs of familiar men making you smile.

“She even got me these cute black Uggs for this cold ass weather, I was ‘gonna wear them today but I didn’t want any…beer on them. And don’t even get me started…” toji hazily said, cutting himself from talking when he drops his fry that you were standing a few inches from.

He quickly looked up after realizing who’s shoes those were since you would always wear them with your gold anklet he bought you for your birthday.

He gets up from his seat while Gojo continues with his rant , automatically towering over you, looking down at you with low red eyes and a sly grin placed on his face, “Nice to see you..my sweet girl,” he gives you a passionate kiss on the lips, “did he call you again?” He asks, his hands holding onto your love handles.

“I think we both know the answer to that, you having fun?” You question, tilting your head while you bat your lashes up at him. He slowly nods, making you giggle at his slow demeanor.

“I’m fucking ready to leave, do you mind if we drop off the guys first?” He slid his hands off you and clamps his hands together, with a pout look in his face.

Reminding you of a little boy.

“Well of course, don’t want them to crash either,” you slightly laugh but then stay serious, looking at them you see them still rambling about work,“you guys ready to go already ?”

Heading out the bar, toji’s arm was wrapped around you for support so he wouldn’t fall and it seemed pretty impossible since his body weight was insane, muscles taking up most of his body weight.

Placing him down on the passenger sea, he mouths a small thank you and pulls himself off the seat to give you a hug. On the other hand, as soon as the other two boys entered the car, they knocked out the minute they felt cushions. You look in the backseat, watching them drool in their sleep.

Driving towards Gojo’s house, you feel a pair of eyes on you without having to look. Pulling out the bag full of snacks behind your seat, toji’s eyes lit up and grabs the bag once you pulled it out in his direction.

Fucking knew it.

[wlntrsldler]

poisoned mercury | damned if i do ya (damned if i don't)

a/n: oooohhhh i love them bad. the slow burn is slow burning a little bit. btw the song is daylight by 5sos!

series masterlist | previous | next

v. damned if i do ya (damned if i don't) by all time low

all the progress luke thought he was making with you was thrown out the window after the concert. at first, he was glad to have some distance between you guys. he was dealing with sorting out what he felt for you. it was stupid, really, how he realized that you reminded him a lot of his childhood nickelodeon crush, but the more he thought about it, the more he realized that it was more than that. 

sure, you were a fucking headache sometimes, but he liked it. he liked you. he liked how you always tore him a new one, made him feel normal, like he wasn’t luke castellan – lead singer of poisoned mercury, he was just luke when he was with you. you asked him about his music, his life, but knew when to stop right before the conversation got too heavy because you understood him. you knew how he felt even when he didn’t say it. 

maybe he’d just been around his bandmates too much, teenage boys with emotional iqs of a thumbtack, but you took one look at him and he knew that you understood what he was feeling. as great of a writer he was when it came to music, he was never good with expressing how he felt. 

but now, it’s been weeks since you last talked to him, like really talked to him. whenever he’d see you in your smoke spot, he’d try to start a conversation, but you’d stuff your vape in your pocket and walk away before he could even say hi. you stopped going to the gym in the morning, often coming into the cabin after your workout during random times of the day, no longer following a set schedule. you rarely hung out with the boys, opting to retire into your room earlier than usual. you still joined clarisse during her counselor duties, but she stopped letting the boys tag along when luke was available as much as she used to. she’d offer an apologetic smile to luke and slip out an excuse why he couldn’t join for music lessons. 

luke was tired of it. he didn’t know what went wrong, what he did wrong, to make you act so cold towards him. even when you didn’t know him yet, you were never like this. you always had a snide remark ready for him, but now, he was met with silence. 

on the bright side, he at least had inspiration to write new songs. 

he wandered into the cabin, thinking that it would be empty. clarisse was being held hostage at arts and crafts again. (she complained the whole morning about it until chris offered to join her so she wouldn’t be the only one covered in glitter this time.) the stolls were in the studio recording the instrumentals for the song luke showed them a few days ago. they’d asked him who the song was about, though he had a feeling they already knew. he wasn’t really trying to be secretive with the words. and you, luke could only wonder where you were. 

he stopped in his tracks at the sound of mr. d’s voice in your room. your bedroom door was wide open and luke feared that you’d see him so he hid around the corner, back pressed against the wall. 

“this is serious, kid,” mr. d yelled. “your teammate is pressing charges so i need the full story! i don’t care if you don’t want to talk about it. this can go on your record permanently.” 

“so let it!” you screamed back. luke heard you pacing around your room, heavy steps against the cabin floors. “i don’t care.” 

“i care! i’ve been pretty goddamn lenient when it comes to you, y/n, but this?” mr. d countered, veins on his neck bulging out as he raised his voice. luke had never seen him like this, “this is fucking serious. you need to tell me exactly what happened.” 

“she was talking about you, okay?” you sobbed. you sat on your bed, hands buried in your open palms. “she said something about your addiction. i don’t fucking know how she found out, but she said something and i just lost it, dad. she was talking out her ass and i just needed her to shut up because she didn’t know what the fuck she was talking about.” 

mr. d’s tongue poked the inside of his cheek. he gulped, not saying a word. your dad looked at the decorated wall of your bedroom, polaroids of you and your friends, your framed high school field hockey jersey, and the concert ticket from the first show he ever took you to. he looked down at the pink rug on your floor, unable to say anything. 

you looked up at him, eyes brimmed with tears, “there, i told you. happy now?” 

it wasn’t long before mr. d stormed out of the cabin. luke flinched as the door slammed shut behind him. he heard you sobbing in your bedroom and he contemplated approaching you. you were already mad at him, for a reason that he still didn’t know, so what the hell? 

with a deep breath, luke emerged from the corner and walked towards your door. his knuckles softly knocked on the open door. you looked up at the noise, rubbing your eyes with your forearm. you chewed on your bottom lip, “not in the mood to argue, castellan.” 

“not here to argue,” he stood under your door frame, leaning against the side. “i’m here to see if you’re okay.” 

you had this habit of running away from things when you knew it had the power to hurt you. it wasn’t the healthiest coping mechanism, but your fight or flight response was triggered every time you started catching feelings for someone. it didn’t happen often, you developing actual feelings for people. you developed crushes, sure, but not feelings. 

you didn’t get googly-eyed and love-dumb with guys. you knew better– growing up with a dad who could quite literally transform people’s lives with a snap of his finger made you hyperaware of people’s intentions with you. but sometimes, you get blinded by the guy who sweeps you off your feet and you forget about it all. 

after the concert, you couldn’t stop thinking about luke. you already knew what kind of person he actually was, kind, caring, talented, all of the above, but there was still a nagging voice in your head telling you: “what if this is all an act?” “what if this is his move? pretending to be a different guy from the tabloids just to get you to fall for him then break your heart like everyone else did?” so you fled. you ran away from luke. 

clarisse caught onto you avoiding luke fairly quickly. she no longer saw you two walking into the cabin together in the early mornings when she was getting ready for the day. you started declining invitations to hang out at the activities center, stopped having time to help her with music lessons when the band was tagging along, and started hanging out with her in your room instead of the common space. 

she asked you about it after a week of the same thing. you told her you just weren’t in the mood, lacked energy. you said a million excuses but she could see right through you. you and the lead singer weren’t really subtle with your longing glances. 

you crossed your legs under you, pulling the blanket up to cover your legs. you moved over on your bed, tilting your head to let him inside. luke took his shoes off and closed the door behind him, sock-clad feet tapping against the wooden floors. he sat on the edge of your bed, playing with the stray thread on your blanket. 

“you ever feel like your parents wish they had a different kid?” you whispered, “maybe a kid that wasn’t so difficult?” 

“all the time,” luke replied, “every time my name is in the tabloids, i swear it takes years off my mom’s life.” 

you laughed, sniffling, “you need to take it easy on your mom. she’s too good for this world.” 

“that she is,” he leaned back on his elbows, resting his head on his shoulder. he tapped your leg under the blanket, “you know your dad loves you, right?”

“yeah,” you sighed, looking at luke. your makeup was smudged under your eyes and it took all his power not to lean over to wipe it away. you hunched your shoulders over when you spoke again, “just feels like sometimes i’m too much for him and i don’t know how to stop doing that.” 

“i don’t think you should.” 

it was the truth. you dealt in extremes. you were intense but it was only because you were passionate about things. he’d seen you practicing for hours, staying up late to help the younger kids with their projects even if it wasn’t your job, bossing people around to make sure that the camp activities were perfect. when you put your mind to something, luke knew there was no stopping you. 

“so i’m guessing you heard that whole thing with my dad?” 

“yeah,” luke rubbed the back of his neck. he looked at you, feeling caught that he’d been listening in on your private conversation. “i didn’t know anyone was in here when i walked in.” 

“it’s fine,” you shrugged, “pretty sure the whole camp heard my dad yelling anyways.” 

he laughed, “probably. i’d never seen him like that before. he’s usually so chill. it kinda caught me off guard.” 

“me too.” 

“it’s not as bad as when my mom yells at me though,” luke offered, trying to lighten the mood. he grinned when he saw your eyes brighten. you never did pass up the opportunity to have luke embarrass himself. if he could stop you from crying, he would lay out all his embarrassing stories in front of you for your listening pleasure. “the time she found out that me and trav got banned from wichita, like the whole city, she got so mad that the hotel we were staying at kicked us out because there were so many noise complaints. had to sleep on the bus. my back was killing me the entire time we were playing a show the next day.” 

“what the fuck did you guys do that warranted a ban from the whole city?” 

luke’s cheeks turned pink, “we mooned a cop car.” 

you bursted into uncontrollable laughter, falling back on your pillows. luke watched you, laughing along at your reaction. you were crying again, but it was a good cry this time. luke thought you looked pretty like this; cheeks red, eyes shut as you tried to regain your composure, and smiling, all teeth and lips. he hadn’t seen it in a while and he wanted to take a picture of you right now just so he could always remember how you looked at this moment. he wasn’t sure if he could survive another few weeks without seeing it again.

luke nudged you as your laughter died down, “if shit goes down with your teammate, there will be three of us with a permanent record in this cabin.”

you smiled at him, sadly, voice returning to the hushed tone you used earlier, “you think my dad could forgive me for this?” 

“don’t think anyone could hold a grudge against you even if they tried, five star,” luke placed a hand on your thigh covered by the blanket. he relished in the feeling of the hand you placed over his own. it felt intimate. “what does your mom think about all of this?” 

“i dunno,” you played with the rings on his hand, twisting the silver metals on his fingers, “i haven’t talked to her about it yet. been avoiding her calls.” 

“well, happy to know that i wasn’t the only one getting the silent treatment,” he teased, no bite to his voice. “shit, five star, even with your punishments, you still manage to not make me feel special.” 

you squeezed his hand, a giggle escaping your lips, “shut up.” 

luke looked at you, “you should probably talk to her soon.” 

“i will,” you nodded, meeting his gaze, “soon.” 

the two of you stayed there in silence, you playing with his rings and the bracelets on his arm. you were so enamored by the silver jewelry on his hand, twirling his rings to read each engraving, looking at each design, humming in appreciation. you looked at the camp half blood bracelet on his wrist, recognizing the beads on the string. 

“i can’t believe you got a camp bracelet before i did this summer,” you huffed, admiring the beads. “i’ve been here longer than you and nobody made me one yet.” 

“a little girl made it for me,” luke said, smiling at the memory. “i helped her with her with the production of the song for her summer project and she made it for me.” 

“i didn’t know you also produced music.” luke castellan continued to surprise you. 

“not well,” he replied. “just the basics, but i like to think i helped her out. annabeth— you know her? the kid with perfect pitch. fucking brilliant. smarter than i was at her age.”

“i love beth. i’m pretty sure she’s the smartest 12-year-old to ever exist,” your eyes twinkled, moving your index finger to his own, “what’s the story with this one?”

luke looked down at the ring you were touching. it was the silver ring he bought for himself using his first paycheck from their album sales. it cost him a pretty penny, but it was worth it. the font was tiny, but he memorized the words. 

“aγάπη χωρίς πείσματα δεν έχει νοστιμάδα,” luke said, no doubt butchering the pronunciation. “it’s greek. my mom used to read greek proverbs to me as a child. i think she hoped i’d become the next great philosopher, but instead i became a musician. this phrase stuck with me.”

“what does it mean?”

“love without a bit of stubbornness isn’t tasteful,” he whispered, “it’s a little reminder to myself that even though i can be difficult as shit sometimes, i’m worth it.”

luke cleared his throat, “had a tough time when we first got big. i’m sure you’ve heard of some stories. there was a time when me and my mom didn’t talk much. i thought i knew what was best and i pushed her away. i was so stubborn, five star.” 

“my dad left when i was a kid and for second, i thought i would lose my mom too,” he shook his head, the bitter taste of regret in his mouth as he recalled those memories. “im glad i didn’t. this ring reminds me that no matter how stubborn i am, i still deserve love, y’know? maybe it’s stupid, but sometimes i doubt it. mom always told me that love isn’t supposed to be easy, but it’s supposed to always be worth it– worth all the trouble, the stubbornness, the hurt, so this little phrase keeps me grounded in a weird way.”

“worth it to an extent,” you said. there was something hidden in your words like you were somehow asking him if you fell within the extent of it being worth it. it was in the look in your eye, doubt and worry that maybe you pushed it too far this time and you were no longer worth the fight. 

“extent is subjective. i know my mom thinks i’m worth it. i know that no matter how much me and the stolls get into fights, our friendship is worth it. i know that even though me and chris grew up to be different people, our bond is worth it,” luke leaned in closer as if he was going to tell you a secret, something that stays between you and him, only allowed to be spoken within the walls of your room. “and you, five star–” 

he couldn’t finish his sentence. his words got caught in his throat. he was afraid that if he kept talking, he wouldn’t be able to stop. he didn’t know if there was a universe out there where fighting for you wouldn’t be worth it. had you been thinking about him all this time you’d been apart? have your thoughts been plagued by the idea of him? all he could think of was you. all his songs were about you. it seemed like everything had been about you since he met you. 

is it too much too soon to even say things like that? luke didn’t know where you stood, if you even felt the same way about him as he did about you. how evil must the world be to have you exist in his orbit but not allow him to fight for you? 

the corner of your lips lifted a tiny bit and luke knew he didn’t need to say anything else. you understood. 

luke wanted to stop you when you removed your hand from his, but he didn’t want to test his luck. you dug through the drawer by your bed, pulling out the familiar vape, “i could really go for a smoke right now but this stupid thing died.” 

an idea popped into luke’s mind. he got up, motioning for you to do the same. you stayed seated on your bed, eyebrow raised in concern. 

“come on,” luke sighed, playfully rolling his eyes when you still refused to get up. he held out his hand, looking down at you. “you trust me?” 

you glanced at him then at his hand, deciding. it felt like a loaded question, like he was asking about something more than if you’d go with him to whatever adventure he had planned for the both of you. his heart hammered in his chest as he waited for your answer. you didn’t say anything to his question, unsure if you could rationalize your decision, but when you laced your fingers with his, luke didn’t let go of your hand until you were both out of the campgrounds.

[springgirlshowers]

ok what about drunk reader getting so wasted to the point where she doesn’t recognize joost but it’s not like angst it’s funny cuz he’s trying to get her home and she’s like “nuh uh i got a bf pal”

My Boyfriends Pretty Cool

Pairing: Joost Klein x Fem!Reader

CW: alcohol consumption, mentions of smoking, reader being drunk as helllllllll

WC: 1004

A/N: happy monday everybody, hope this helps you get thru ur week <3

You were sitting in a small booth in the corner of the club, Joost had gone out for a smoke with his friends, promising he’d be back soon.

Your friend, who was sitting with you originally, had gone up to counter of the bar, talking to a guy she met earlier.

Now you were sitting alone, waiting for either of them to return.

Joost came back in with the hood of his black jacket up that was wrapped around his waist before due to the cold weather outside, dark and squared sunglasses covered his eyes, dimming down the harsh and colorful light from the dance floor.

He freaked out a tiny bit when he saw you sitting alone, knowing you were already a bit drunk.

“Hey, where’d your friend go?” He asked as he walked up to the table. You looked up at him with a strange look on your face.

“Uh, she just went up to the counter to get some more drinks.” You lied, not recognizing the stranger under the dark glasses and hood.

Joost just gave an understanding nod, sitting down next to you. Noticing the way you scooted away from him.

“You really shouldn’t be sitting so close to me, I have a boyfriend.” You slurred.

“You do?” He tilted his head, catching on.

“Mhm. I don’t think he’d like some random guy sitting next to me.” You raised your brows, taking a drink from your glass.

“I’m sure he wouldn’t. What does he look like?”

“He’s got superrr blonde hair. He has a lot of silly tattoos. Anddd he’s very tall. He’s easy to spot in a crowd.”

“Silly tattoos? What do you mean by that?”

“He has one,” You stopped your sentence to giggle, “of crazy frog!” You let out a full blown laugh. A giant grin formed on his face, he began to feel the butterflies in his stomach at the sound of your laugh.

“I used to think it was a dumb tattoo. I kinda like it now. I like to trace them with my fingers when he’s sleeping.” You said, wiping your watery eyes from how hard you were laughing.

Joost was surprised by this new information, he never knew you did that when he was asleep.

“What else is there about him?” He rested his head on his fist.

“Well, he wears glasses a lot, ones kinda like yours.” You tapped your nail on his sunglasses. “But he’s been wearing these pink ones a lot. He’s a fashionista.” Joost laughed at the name you unknowingly called him.

“He puts a lot of effort into his outfits, but I think it’s cute.” You tipped your head against the leather booth.

“Oh! And he’s a musician! He makes music all the time!” You sprang up, so giddy about this subject.

“Wow, really? What type of music?”

“Gabberpop. It’s really weird music, it’s really loud, has a lot of bass and big sounds.” His face hurt so much from smiling, a small laugh leaving him when you tried to sing an instrumental of one of his songs.

“Do you like his songs?” He felt a bit strange, taking advantage of your state to see how you really felt about him. But he always had that bad thought in the back of his mind that you didn’t like a lot of things about him, and he wanted to know the truth.

“Hmmm, I thought they were really weird at first, I wasn’t sure how I felt about them. But I like them a lot now!” His sunglasses hid the blush forming on his face. “I listen to them all the time when he’s not around, like in the car, or when he’s not home, or when I’m out in public with my earbuds in, or when he’s traveling and I miss him.” You giggled as you rambled on, words slurred.

“That’s good. Is he a handsome dude?”

“Absolutely! He’s the prettiest boy I’ve seen.” You sighed happily, rocking side to side.

“Really?” He mumbled nervously.

“Really, really. I love him.” You gazed up, looking like you were daydreaming.

“You seem more interested in him than me.” You looked back at him, narrowing your eyes and whispering.

“Maybe I am.” He shrugged and tilted his head.

“Hm, you’re very kind but I won’t share.”

“That’s understandable, I wouldn’t share either if I had a girl like you.” He said before he got up, giving you a handshake and goodbye.

By the time he was out of your eyesight, he took off his glasses and jacket, wrapping it around his waist again.

He waited for a second before returning to the booth.

“Hey liefje, where did she go?” He asked, referring to your friend.

“She went to go talk to some guy.” You said truthfully this time, feeling safe at the sight of your boyfriend.

“She just left you here alone?” He said as he sat down in the same spot he was just a few minutes ago.

“Yeah. A guy came up to me though.” You muttered awkwardly.

“Huh? Who?” He pretended to look concerned, acting a bit jealous as he would if he did see an actual stranger flirting with you.

“I don’t know. I never got his name, but don’t worry. I told him I already had a boyfriend.”

“Oh. Was he flirting with you at all?” Joost continued on with his facade.

“No I don’t think so, he seemed more interested in you. Asking soooo many questions about you.” You smiled, teasing him.

“Really? That’s strange.” He hummed.

“Maybe, I think he wanted to flirt with you instead.” You giggled again, laying your head down on where your arm was on the wooden table.

“But I was glad he was asking of questions, I like talking about you. I’m just worried I said too much and now he’s gonna try and steal you from me.” You said through a hiccup.

“Oh, no one could ever take me from you.” He pressed a kiss to your cheek.

[icejjfishesz]

𝐀𝐍𝐘𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐁𝐔𝐓 𝐘𝐎𝐔 ━━ ❛ 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐋𝐎𝐆𝐔𝐄 ❜

chapter no. 000!          

𝗈𝗈𝗈.                 ⠀CONTENT : angst-ish. reader is lowk insecure and paige is lowk not good at reassurance (its for the plot trussst)

𝗈𝗈𝗈. ⠀      WORD COUNT : 637

𝗈𝗈𝗈.   ⠀AUTHORS NOTE : lmk if yall like this or not!

THERE WAS A TIME WHERE PAIGE KISSING YOU, having you underneath her warm lips, was the best thing that could happen to you. you loved how human it was. how natural it felt for her to be on top of you, her body heat engulfing you. whenever you were together; it was like you entered a little bubble…one where only you and her existed. 

but everything is temporary, (including humanity, apparently) because one november night, she had you pinned against her bed and all you can think about is how much you hate the feeling. you’re alone together now, in the private comfort of her apartment. the blinds were drawn shut but it wouldn’t matter because by now midnight had already rolled in and everyone looking in was most likely sleeping. you had her to yourself, finally –– nothing about the setting was unusual, most of the alone time you and paige had was past 11pm. she only loved you in the dark. 

but it wasn’t enough anymore. 

perhaps you had gotten greedy, finding yourself wanting to hold her hand in less private spaces. you’d been with her for months, six to be exact, and yet it felt pointless. she wouldn’t tell anyone. she said she loved you but she couldn’t tell anyone. and it didn’t help that she was possibly the biggest flirt most likely ever. she pulled away, noticing your lack of usual enthusiasm. 

“is something wrong?” three words that jump started the end of the relationship—if you could even call it that. it was inauspicious at best, nonexistent at worst. that was your greatest fear when it came to the two of you––that there was really nothing there. those three, almost dismissive words, completely shattered you. 

you bite your tongue but it’s futile. when you open your mouth again the words escape before you even realize it, much less stop yourself from saying them. “why did you say that?”

“cause you’re being weird and i wanna know what’s up?” she says in an obvious tone, confused as to why you’d even question her motives for trying to know what’s wrong with her girlfriend. 

“no, not that.” you sigh, realizing your vagueness. “earlier.” 

paige’s confused expression doesn’t lift for even a moment, in fact, it seems to increase. 

“to the girl at the shop. when she asked if you had a girlfriend.” you reply simply, annoyed that the situation clearly meant nothing to her when it meant everything to you. at the moment, at least. “you said you weren’t looking for a relationship.”

“well, that’s not exactly a lie.” she’s mostly joking but it’s clear that you didn’t take it that way. your hand, which was running up and down the length of her spine subconsciously, stops abruptly. her words are spoken lightheartedly but they suffocate you.

“i just mean…i’m kinda with you, y’know? so i’m not actively looking.” she doesn’t know why that’s what she chose to say in that moment and those words would prove to haunt her for long after.

“would it kill you to call me your girlfriend?”

she pauses, tensing like she always does whenever you talk labels. her silence is the worst answer. her silence is indifference. she doesn’t care, of course she doesn’t. why would you even expect her to? it was clear she only wanted a good time from you.

so you decided to make this easy for her. by saying what she never ever wanted you to say to her. you sit up, standing from the bed. “i think it’s best if we don’t keep seeing each other.”

she hates how formal you sound. she hates even more how she can’t say anything. she hates how she can’t speak even when you gather your things to leave her. she let you go, too frozen to stop you.

[svnkissedqueen]

── ϧ𝑒 JEALOUSY JEALOUSY .ᐟ

℘ chuck bass x fem!reader ৴ LENGTH 798

DESCRIPTION once another guy sets his eyes on you, chuck finds himself jealous.

CONTENT sfw ﾉ just fluff ﾉ jealous!chuck.

THOUGHTS my first chuck fic!! this was supposed to be out much earlier but something came up. i hope you guys like it.

𝒾. mlist 𝒾𝒾. previous fic 𝒾𝒾𝒾. prompts 𝒾𝓋. based on this ask

Chuck Bass is important. Poised. Full of unwavering self-confidence. He doesn't get jealous. He doesn't. He has no reason to. He's as confident in his relationship with you as he is in that he'll fulfill his father’s legacy one day. But this guy talking to you right now, thinking that he's entitled to you in any way... who the hell does he think he is?"

Chuck tried so hard not to let it bother him, trying to enjoy the party that you all attended, it’s thrown by a new elite person that has yet to show their face, he didn’t even want to come, he’d rather stay in bed, cuddle up next to you but you wanted to come because Blair and Serena was also going.

Chuck focuses his glare on the guy standing in front of you as he takes a sip out of the drink he’s been nursing for the past few minutes. His teeth grinding together as the guy stood so close to what was his, it’s not like you were entertaining him as you denied every one of his attempts but he isn’t letting up. “Are you there?” Nate questions as he notices he hasn’t been listening to anything he’s been saying for the past few minutes.

“You know I’m not. Don’t take it personal. Who is that guy?”

Nate rolls his eyes at his response before looking in the direction, Chuck is looking in. “Dude, that’s Jackson. This is his party, everyone’s talking about him, he’s gossip girl's new target.” Nate explains as Chuck sets his cup on the table beside them.

“Oh I see what’s happening, you’re jealous,” Nate snickers, couldn’t believe his eyes as he watches Chuck roll his eyes at him. “You know (name) only has eyes for you,” he adds.

While Nate speaks the truth, it only falls on deaf ears. While he knows you wouldn’t entertain someone else, it has been quite a long time since someone dared to try to flirt with you knowing damn well you belonged to him and him only. He’s the only one that gets to stand as close to you as the guy is to you now.

“How about I take you out this weekend, is 8 fine for you?”

You exhale, letting go of a breath you didn’t know you were holding in. You had already let this guy know that you’re not interested in him and he still wasn’t budging, kept trying to find ways for you to say yes to his offer; you try to be nice as this was his party, you didn’t want to be rude.

No one could hold a candle to Chuck as no one made you feel the way you feel with him, he treats you with respect, a trait this guy obviously lacks.

You look around, searching through the crowd for your boyfriend, the only person besides the girls you want to be close to so you can get away from this dude.

A smile tugs at the corner of your lips once you lock eyes with him, watching as he walks up to you with confidence written all over him, a sight that always has you head over heels with him. “Um… hello? Did you hear what I said?” Jackson questions, snapping his fingers in your face enough to make you annoyed.

“I’m sorry but she’s with me,” Chuck states, placing his arm around your waist, pulling you closer to him, just being his hold; you immediately melt in his touch as shock takes over Jackson's face “Incase, you didn’t know but she’s happily taken.”

You lay your head against his shoulder as he lays a soft kiss on your forehead, another thing that made your heart flutter about him.

“Whatever, call me when you break things off with him,” Jackson says, walking away as you roll your eyes briefly before giving your full attention to Chuck who had an angry expression on his face.

“Don’t listen to him babe, I would never leave you.” You comment, rubbing his chest, looking up into his eyes. “I know.” He responds but a smirk spreads across your face, knowing by the look on his face having seen it many times before in the beginning of your relationship although he always claims he never gets jealous but you always saw right through it.

“Oh my god, you are jealous.” you make eye contact with him, not being able to hold in the laughter that’s spilling out your mouth. “Now why would I be jealous? I’m Chuck Bass and no one can ever replace me.” He says proudly and you laugh more, holding onto him tightly.

“Come on, let's get home, I will have more fun there than here,” you say calmly, leading him to the exit as he raises an eyebrow, happy that he can finally go home and have you to himself, thinking about the day he’d finally marry you, claiming you as his wife to the world.

thank you for watching! © svnkissedqueen 2025. all rights reserved — do not claim, copy, repost or translate.

[lucvly]

girllll please do a smut where matt is on tour the reader is on the phone with him and she starts hearing his heavy breathing and grunts so she stops talking and he says something like “keep talking pretty girl, im so close”

— radio, matt sturniolo. ⸰ 𖥔 ͙

warnings: smut smut smut. also this is short my bad. not proofread.

a/n: oh my god i saw this and knew i had to get cooking. i’m working on so many reqs rn be patient w me i beg !! sensitive stans dni i bite

at first, matt had begged you to come with him on tour, you two were together almost every day so it wouldn’t be all that different from your usual routine. however, as much as you would’ve loved to join him, you had to stay back home and tend to some important work matters. this meant having him away for almost a whole month.

not having your boyfriend around was painful to say the least. sure, you had work, family and friends to keep you busy, but nothing compared to having his presence right there next to you. of course, you texted every day at almost every hour, and you called each other every night to tell the other about your day and just hear each other’s voice.

on this specific night, matt asked you to call him a bit earlier than usual, which you didn’t mind at all. at the end of the day you got to hear your boyfriend’s voice, but it did seem a bit out of the ordinary.

“hi princess, nick and chris went to target to get some things we need, so i figured we could call a bit earlier.” matt spoke, his voice just as sweet as always, though you could sense a small smile in his voice. “tell me about your day, i wanna hear every detail.”

and that’s how an almost endless rant about your day started. you’d had an incredibly long day, you told him all about how you went to the bookstore in the morning and got some books that you’d been dying for, how you’d gotten some work done after that, then you told him about some meaningless argument you had with your mom.

“it was annoying, but– we’ll get over it.” you let out a soft sigh, laying back on your bed.

“i’m sure you will, baby.” matt’s voice seemed a bit deeper and breathier than usual.

his reply made your brows slightly furrow, normally he’d offer some sort of advice, try to comfort you or distract you but his reply was simply– underwhelming. he was never this quiet when it came to you. what on earth could he possibly be doing that made him go quiet— oh. as if on queue, to pull you out of your thoughts, you heard a shaky breath on the other line, followed by a slick and wet movement.

suddenly all the pieces started to click together in your head. was he jerking off? the thought of it made a small smirk appear on your face. you couldn’t believe him. he didn’t even have the decency to tell you so you could help him or join him? so that’s why he called you a bit earlier when his brothers were out, and that’s why he seemed so off throughout the call.

a part of you just wanted to go ahead and join him, tell him how much you’ve missed him over the past few weeks, how much you’ve been craving his fingers inside of you, or simply how much you’ve missed him inside of you. but the other part of you wanted to see how far he was willing to take this. it was funny enough that he didn’t realize you were already catching onto his situation, teasing him a little wouldn’t hurt.

“what should i do? i’m just, upset. you know?” your voice managed to sound the slightest bit sad, yet a smirk was displayed on your face.

“i– yeah, i mean–” he cut himself off before reconsidering continuing further with an act he knew he wasn’t going to be able to keep up with any longer. the slick sounds from the other line had picked up a quicker and swifter speed.

“hm?” you only let out a hum. knowing he was getting off to your voice was incredibly hot, but you wanted to see what would happen if you just– stopped talking. knowing you had full control over him without him even realizing it was simply arousing.

all that could be heard from the phone were soft grunts and heavy breaths, followed by some slick sounds which only made the smirk on your face grow slightly wider.

“fuck– princess, just do me a favor and keep talking for me, yeah? i promise i’ll make it up to you.” his voice was breathy, short pauses with shaky breaths between almost every word.

“care to tell me what’s going on?” you teased, letting out a soft giggle. you were just as turned on as he was, but you wanted to focus on your boyfriend’s pleasure first and foremost because of the short amount of time you had before his brothers came back.

“shit– just keep talking, pretty girl, i’m so close, please.” his breathing was shaky, you could hear the slick and wet sounds getting louder, picking up a quicker speed as a low grunt could be heard over the phone. “god, i miss you. i miss being inside of you.”

“and i miss having you here with me, i wish i could take care of you,” your voice was sweet, and your cheeks started to heat up with the tint of a soft pink color. “i miss you.”

your voice was needy and barely even audible, but those three words were all he needed to reach his release. the pace of the wet sounds managed to quicken even more before a soft “shit–” could be heard over the phone, followed by a slightly louder groan as the slick sounds began to cease.

“you’re the best, you know that?” his voice was almost a whisper. he was clearly tired out, his voice a bit deeper yet softer than usual.

“at least let me join next time,” you joked, playfully rolling your eyes as if he was right there next to you to see it. a small smile was still displayed across your face as you twirled a strand of hair around your finger.

“i will. i promise. next time will be all about you, princess.”

[damn-stark]

Chapter 35 I live. I tell your story

Chapter 35 of Moonlight

A/N- Happy New Year and I really hope you all like it!

Warning- some angst, FLUFF!!! Talks of death. SPOILERS!! FOR FUTURE EVENTS OF HOTD, USING FIRE AND BLOOD, long chapter.

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

Episode/Pages- Past 578

(If you want to be tagged let me know)

————

*25 YEARS LATER*

Flying in the sky is a lot like swimming in the sea. On warm days when the sun is out the sky is blue just like the body of water. The sky is endless just like the sea is. And on any random day, the sky is cold or chilly because you’re up so high, and when you’re in the water the deeper you dive the colder the waters get.

Unlike when you’re in the water though, there’s no constant need to keep surfacing for air though. True, sometimes the air in the sky gets thin, making it hard to breathe, but you don’t need to hold your breath and keep coming up and down. You’re just on your saddle, drawing in crisp air through your lungs, you���re breaking apart wet clouds, startling flocks of birds, or sometimes even joining their beautiful formation as you and your dragon become one with the endless sky touched by only you.

Isn’t it so fascinating that besides winged creatures you and Rhaena are the only ones who can touch the sky and be a part of the endless horizon?

You think about that often and always take great pride in the fact that you have your dragon now that you live so far from the sea. You might be dramatic but what would be of you if you couldn’t touch the sky whenever you wanted to?

You don’t want to know. You lost so much, but Astraea has been your constant companion since you were an infant. If she hadn’t made it—-well you don’t want to think about it.

What you will think about once you dismount your dragon is breakfast. Everyone must already be around the table—except for Jacaerys maybe. He’s never on time anywhere.

“Ser Cane,” you greet your old but fiercely loyal sworn protector.

“Good morning?” He asks as he watches you walk past him before he follows at your tail like always.

“Great,” you let him know and turn around to watch your dragon back peddle before she walks forward and flaps her giant purple wings to gain momentum before she departs for the skies again—“you were late,” you point out as you drop your gaze on the man and raise your eyebrows teasingly.

“Or you woke up earlier,” he retorts. “My Princess.”

You snicker and then turn around on your heels to face forward. “I knew you’d be here when I landed so I didn’t want to bother you before it was time.”

He sighs in defeat knowing nothing will change. The only advantage to this disadvantage is that at least his heart doesn’t strain with worry because he knows that the people of the North love you, and your dragon is fierce. You can be fierce too but you stopped carrying weapons on your person long ago, so you’re left vulnerable when you’re alone, but you ignore that.

“Cregan!” You call out when you spot him walking toward the dining hall, and he immediately comes to a stop as he hears his name. When he turns, his grey eyes brighten as he sees you picking up the skirt of your gown to run over to him.

When you reach him you throw your arm around his and then lean toward him to press a kiss on his lips, making him smile sweetly.

“How was your flight?” He asks against your lips as he savors your kiss as if he hadn’t tasted them in the morning.

“Refreshing,” you share with a smile before you turn forward and walk to the dining hall side by side now. “You’re late to the table how come? Did something come up?” You ask curiously as you look at him trying to find the answer on his face.

“Yes, some of the lads needed my help. I almost thought I wouldn’t break fast with you and the boys,” he says.

You hum and let your eyes flicker to the corridor as you walk inside the stone building. “You should have taken Jacaerys with you so he could work up the courage to talk to you.”

Cregan turns his head and probes. “About?”

You draw out a deep breath and then turn your head to look him in the eyes. “It’s not for me to say. I just wanted to let you know that he wants to talk.”

He hums and shrugs. “He’s welcome to talk to me anytime he wants. He knows that.”

You keep your eyes on him and sigh, he hears it and he sees your softened eyes full of love start to harden and create a deep crease in between your eyebrows as they furrow in response. “What?” He presses.

“We’ll talk about it later,” you say and leave him wondering what you could mean.

“Okay,” he scoffs softly.

You huff and rub his bicep with your other hand before you slip your hands away from his arm and walk ahead and enter the dining hall first, causing all the chatter to silence as all the attention falls on you and Cregan walking in a bit late.

“For once I am not the late one,” Jacaerys breaks the short-lived silence, making his older brother Maekor scoff in annoyance.

“Grandmother! Grandmother!” Maekor’s twin boys both then shout in sync with excitement, making Maekor’s wife lean down to scold them for shouting over the table in the same way their uncle just did.

“Good Morning everyone,” you announce. “Please as you were. Sorry, we’re late.”

“Good morning,” Cregan greets as he makes his way to his seat.

“Mother,” Rickon, Cregan’s first-born son with Lady Arra Norrey, greets you as you sit down between him and his father.

“Rickon,” you redirect and stroke his chin gently.

“How come it’s alright for you to be late because of your dragon riding, but it’s frowned upon when I’m out all night?” Jacaerys remarks as he reaches over the round wooden table to place food on his plate, making you sit back and slowly look at him with curiosity.

“Can you ever shut up?” Maekor hisses at his brother.

Yet you only add fuel to the matter. “Because it’s not truly the same is it? And you’re out all night without guards doing…well, I do not wish to know what.”

Jacaerys scoffs and proceeds to add. “Father and you go out at night as well—”

“Jacaerys,” Maekor cuts his brother off sharply, making the corner of your lips twitch to a smile that you share with Cregan.

When your husband sees your reaction his lips upturn to a smirk and he passes you a look that says, “that's your son.”.

You snicker in response and he then strokes your chin before he reaches over the round table without needing to be told and passes you what you wanted. After you all serve yourselves breakfast there’s a serenity that blankets the round wooden table, the oldest boy of Maekor’s twins walks over and sits between Cregan and you because he says he wants to tell you a story that never gets told because he gets sidetracked on a matter you start to make sense of before you get lost as you drift your attention to Torrhen.

Your youngest son and child has always been quieter than his other siblings, even before his dragon dreams and Greenseer notions started. Some people might even say that he blends into the room, that’s how quiet he is, he’s never expected to be the loudest one, but he’s never lost to you. He's like the brightest star in the night sky, you always find him like right now, and at this very moment he seems lost in his food as if he’s trying to decipher something within it.

You hope he’ll snap out of his stupor as he feels your eyes on him trying to decipher what thoughts might be forming in his mind, but he seems to be hundreds of years away from where he actually is. Thus you intend to call out to him to snap him out of his stupor and begin a small conversation, but just as you part your lips the dining hall doors open, and the maester walks and makes his way to you.

“Princess,” he whispers by your ear as he pushes a scroll toward you. “This just came to you from the Riverlands. It has an unknown mark on the wax.”

You grab the scroll and turn it, seeing the wax and identifying who the sender is; it’s Alys.

“Thank you, Maester,” you say back with a smile directed at the scroll.

The Maester quickly bows his head at you and Cregan before he scurries off, leaving the room to you and your family once again.

“It's Alys,” you let Cregan know since you know he’s curious about the raven scroll.

“Hm, I wonder what she could want,” he comments and you giddily smile at the scroll one more time before you tuck it away so you can read it later. As of now, you finish your breakfast with more enthusiasm since you're anticipating reading the scroll, which is why you finish quicker than the others.

“I’ll be in the Godswood,” you let Cregan know and kiss his cheek. Before you can lean back and walk off you grab his shoulder and slide your lips to his ear. “Talk to Torrhen, please my love.”

Cregan’s eyes slowly find your son and you follow his line of gaze, noticing that he’s only eaten half of his food and the rest is just sprawled around his plate as he keeps playing with it.

“He’s…having a hard time and I know he doesn’t say it or it may not look it, but he really does need you,” you continue to whisper as you focus back on Cregan. “So talk to him. Take him with you to help you, okay? And be…warm, hm.”

Your husband's grey eyes snap to you and he raises his eyebrow to question your comment.

“He’s your son. Our youngest child, keep that in mind, okay?” You press to give him some idea as to what you could mean without having to explain it right now.

“Alright,” Cregan says back with confusion but he doesn’t press on the matter, he just lets you know he comprehends, letting you leave to go read your letter and respond to Alys in the Godswood like you tend to do when she writes.

“Dear, Princess,

I write to you in regards to Prince Aemond—“

You blink repeatedly in surprise and quickly lean forward to continue reading with a new sense of urgency.

“—some of the King’s men traveled to the God’s Eye in search of your lost ancestral Valyrian sword and stumbled upon it on the lake's surface still attached to your late husband's skull. The men want to recover the blade, thus I thought I’d ask if you would want to recover his bones to do with it as you please or let them disregard it back in the lake. Let me know as soon as you can, the King’s men don’t find value in the bones of the enemy.

-Your friend, Alys Rivers ”

You blink again with surprise and sit back to go over the news the letter contained over and over again, with each time the scab over your heart tearing little by little.

For ten years all you thought of when you thought of Aemond was his death. You remembered the grief and agony that tormented you when you saw him fall into the water and never get out. You remembered how empty you felt without him. You remembered how much you missed him every time you looked into Aerion and Daenys’ eyes. Your memories were never kind until ten years passed.

After a decade of agony, you stopped aching and looked back fondly at your memories. It’s true you’ll never stop missing him or the rest of your family, you’ll be cursed to grieve them until your memory fails you or until you die, but you’re at peace, so to learn that they found his bones, rattles you. You thought you’d never get to lay his body to rest or have your two children that you share with him see him one last time…

Thus now that you can give him a proper funeral you won’t let it go to waste or have his bones return to the lake. You’ll give him a proper Valyrian funeral and have Aerion and Daenys attend. You know the Riverlands still remembers him as a terror of the trident and the rest of the realm remembers him as a kinslayer, but you don’t need them to stand next to you as you burn his bones, all you need is the children you had with him. Fuck everyone else and what they might think when they hear what you do.

As for what Cregan might think…

——

*LATER THAT NIGHT*

After a rather long day, after thinking about Aemond since you read that letter, and after putting your conversations with your husband aside, Cregan and you prove your son Jacaerys right and find yourselves in a discreet hot spring where you know no one will disturb you. And you know that because you only stumbled upon the hot spring when you were a ward sneaking off in the middle of the night with your lover.

“Did you talk to Torrhen?” You finally get to ask after only since you didn’t want to risk being overheard by one of your sons or anyone else eavesdropping.

“Uh,” Cregan hesitates to answer as he undresses.

You look back at the sound of his response and raise your eyebrow even though he has back-turned, letting you see his pale ass as he takes his pants off. “Cregan,” you press.

Said man turns at the sound of his name coming from your lips and lets his pants fall before he proceeds to shake them off, and then walk over to you.

“Need help?” He asks smugly.

You swat his hand away and back away as you untie your gown and let it fall around your ankles, leaving yourself in a lighter gown.

“I told you to talk to him and Jacaerys,” you press impatiently.

Cregan pulls his leather vest off and then takes off his shirts, leaving himself completely nude to jump in the hot water while also ignoring you.

“Cregan Stark,” you hiss and finish undressing before you face him from dry land with your arms crossed over your chest.

“Can you get in the water,” he counters and waves you over. “I can’t think properly when you’re like that.”

You roll your eyes and join him in the water before you look at him with irritation all over again. “Explain why you did not talk to Torrhen or Jacaerys.”

Cregan meets your gaze and his eyes wander down to your breasts so you cross your arms again and press him. “You did not have to talk to the both of them. Just one for now. Why didn’t you?”

Cregan’s grey eyes slowly scale back up to meet your gaze and he sighs deeply before he finally shares what he’s been holding back. “I…tried. I did, but I could find a way to offer him what you want me to give him. And he brushed the matter aside, I did not want to pry.”

You take long blinks as you let his words sink and when you remember that he did not have the same attention from his parents growing up, you let out a deep sigh and approach him to gently grab his arms.

The thing is that his parents were good to him, but his mother died when he was fairly young, and his father wasn’t as open and warm with him as your mother and your father were to you and your brothers. Cregan is a man and he was the eldest, he needed to be tough to face every challenge head-on, so he wasn’t talked to with sweet words laced with honey like the way your mother talked to you and your brothers. He wasn’t told to let his feelings out, they needed to be kept in, whereas your brothers had your mother's shoulders to cry on.

It’s because of that upbringing that it’s second nature for you to be present and warm in your children’s lives. It’s hard for Cregan to be so with his sons, but with your daughters it’s a different story, he was terrifyingly overprotective when your daughters still lived with you. Now they’re too far from him to be menacing to any dangers that could put them in harm's way. And! You don’t want him to be the same way with your sons, you just need him to be someone they can open up to. They need him.

“I’m not telling you to do the impossible, just be…warmer,” you explain your thought process. “Press Torrhen to open up. He really needs you, my love.”

Cregan slowly lowers his head and his eyebrows knit together as he grows conflicted. “I don’t know how to help him,” he confesses quietly and with shame laced in his voice.

“I…” you trail off and hesitate. “I admit it’s not easy. We don’t see what he can, but,” you pause and raise your hands to grab his jaw and tilt his face up so you can look him in the eyes. “Tell him you’re there for him. Be someone he can rely on, instead of someone to avoid. He thinks that you think of him as mad. That you wouldn’t understand and that he’s a burden.”

Cregan shakes his head and his eyes begin to brim with tears. “No,” his voice quivers. “Never. I know there are things in this world that cannot be explained. I mean you fly a dragon and walk through fire, my ancestors were wargs. Some of us live to fight the dead beyond the wall, he’s not mad. I just…haven’t tried I suppose. I’ve relied on you too much to be their support when…it should’ve been the both of us.”

You stroke his cheeks and nod gently. “You understand.”

Cregan raises his hands to cup yours and keep them on his cheeks as he whispers. “I love that you’re so caring to our children. I admire that about you, did you know?”

You giggle as your heart swoons even though this is all something you already heard. “I like to be reminded from time to time,” you tease him and lean in to slowly take him in for a passionate kiss, making him let one of your hands go to slither it to the back of your neck and keep you secured against him as he just deepens it and lets his tongue dance with yours.

When you wrap your arms around his neck he lets his other hand slide down to cup one of your ass cheeks and knead it as he only lets you take in small breaths before he continues to devour you completely in sync with your movements.

One would say he’s gone months or years deprived of your lips, but this morning you woke up early to fuck before you started your day. He’s just as needy as you are, so when you finally pull apart it’s after you’re both heaving from a quickie in the hot spring.

“What did your witch friend say?” Cregan finally asks, making you laugh and kiss his forearm as he has it wrapped around your neck while he keeps his chest pressed against your back.

“Alys,” you correct him with a giggle before you draw out a deep breath and go serious. “She let me know about the King's men diving in the God’s eye to recover my family’s Valyrian sword, ‘Dark Sister’, from Aemond’s skull, and she asked if I want her to have the men recover his body for me or let it sink back in.”

You feel a breath unfurl over the back of your neck before he shares what he’s thinking. “What did you respond with?”

“Yes,” you let him know without shame because it’s not like Aemond’s corpse can do anything to harm him or you—“I want to give him a proper funeral. For me and Aerion and Daenys. I sent them and Daenerys a raven to go to Harrenhal so they can be a part of it and so I can see them.”

Cregan hums and you turn around to face him whilst you remain wrapped in his arms, only now his hands are wrapped around your waist and you have your hands pressed against his chest.

“I sent a raven to Alysanne,” you say in reference to your (second) daughter and second born child with Cregan, who was named after Good Queen Alysanne because she’s someone you admire and because of her good relations to the North—“I told her to go to Harrenhal too, so maybe you and the boys can come? I’m sure Rickon can handle being Lord for a while.”

“He’s told you, hasn’t he? He wants to do more?” Cregan asks and you can’t help but smirk, giving away your answer.

“Perhaps, so come with me,” you plead. “Let's see our children. And our Alyssane is with child, it gives you the opportunity to see her.”

The corner of his lips pulls to a smile and he lifts his hand to grab your cheek. “If that’s what you want.”

You nod right away and look at him with a pleading look to sway him to what you want.

“We could also visit my brothers at the Red Keep while we’re out there already, and…maybe we or I can ask Alys to help Torrhen,” you share that last bit quieter as you sound desperate for anything to make Torrhen feel better about his abilities.

“If he wants to go that is,” Cregan interjects and you drop your head on his shoulder.

“If I ask him he will,” you tell him confidently before you go back to being worried. “I just hope Alys can offer him some peace of mind.”

“I’m sure she can. She’s already offered, hasn't she?”

You nod softly and he starts to caress the back of your head as he leans down to press his lips against the top of it. “See? Then there’s nothing to worry about. She’ll help him with what she can.”

You nod as you take his comfort and linger in the silence for a short while before you pull your head back to look at him giddily. “I was thinking that on our way back from Kings Landing, I could stay with Alysanne until she gives birth. I’ve been at Daenys and Daenerys' side when they had their babes, I want to do the same with Alysanne.”

He huffs and presses a kiss on your forehead. “I’m certain she’ll appreciate it.”

“That’s if she doesn’t want her father instead,” you tease the fact that your daughter favors Cregan more than she favors you.

“I’m certain she’ll want her mother there at her bedside when the time comes,” he offers reassurance. “I’ll go after and we can return home together.”

“On dragonback?” You probe as you mindlessly trace circles on his chest. “It will be quicker.”

He sighs and lolls his head down but he can’t refuse you, so he gives in. “On dragonback,” he assures you, making you giddy before you go on spewing about your failed attempt at knitting Alysanne a blanket for her babe before you both talk and enjoy the silence and your alone time together.

When the kids started getting older and you added more to your family way back then, Cregan and you would sneak off to steal time for yourselves. After all, having four children to start off with right way and then increasing that number to four, to five, to six, seven, and then eight doesn’t leave much privacy, so you had to rely on sneaking off like when you were young. Now as the kids are old and the girls have left to start their own families Cregan and you simply enjoy spending time away from the castle from time to time. Eventually, before dawn, to get some sleep in, you would return home. Just like now.

——

*SOMETIME LATER. THE RIVERLANDS*

“I have forgotten how ugly the Riverlands are,” you hear Jacaerys comment under his breath. “I do not get why people live here.”

“You’ve only been here once,” Torrhen corrects his older brother with some impatience after a long ride of dealing with him in a small carriage that only persisted of Cregan, you, him, and Jacaerys; Maekor and his family took a different carriage from the harbor, and Ser Cane is leading the way on horseback with a few other guards.

“Once was enough to dictate that I don’t like it. As to how Alysanne lives here is beyond me,” he says snobbishly.

“It was her duty to her husband. She, unlike others, understands the responsibility of duty,” Torrhen retorts sassily, causing you to lift your eyes off your book to watch the pair of brothers.

“Hm,” Jacaerys huffs as he flashes his little brother a feigned smile, “you sound like Maekor and Rickon.”

The corner of Torrhen’s lips twitch to a smirk and he counters back quickly. “They are our brothers.”

Jacaerys feigned smile falls flat and he looks back at his brother with a scowl. “Why don’t you doze off—”

“Jacaerys,” you warn him and finally lower your book to give them all your attention.

Said man drops his scowl and sighs deeply before he looks out the window and adds another comment. “I don’t think choosing to marry Ellis falls in the line of duty. Duty would be if she had to marry him, but she chose to.”

“She still has to move to Raventree Hall for her husband. She uprooted her life to come live in the Riverlands. That’s duty.”

Jacaerys eyes fall on you and he simply shakes his head. “It doesn’t bear heavy weight though, does it?”

You sigh and hold his gaze with pity as you know where he’s coming from. You just don’t add anything to the matter, choosing silence and acknowledgment instead.

“Mother,” Torrhen calls out and steals your attention. “You mentioned once that you thought of moving over here, how come?”

You put the book aside and glance at Cregan with a teasing smirk before you look back at your sons and share what you told daughters before. “Before your father and I married, when I was Regent, Lord Kermit Tully fancied me.”

“And you him,” Cregan inputs with annoyance so you nudge his arm and quip.

“No, I did not!” You chuckle. “Sure he was handsome, but I did not fancy the man. He was just someone I considered marrying to do my duty to my family.”

“But?” Jacaerys probes, letting his curiosity get the best of him.

You look at Cregan and offer a much warmer smile. “Your father and I worked out our problems and he asked me to marry him first, so I did.”

Cregan flashes you a smile before he wraps his arm around you and pulls you to him. “I would have challenged Lord Kermit for your hand, do you know that?”

“Would that have been after you had killed my grandfather or before?” You snap him as you pull your head back to shoot a pointed look.

“You wouldn’t have married me if I had?” He teases as he leans toward your lips.

You shake your head, making him smirk and quip.

“Then I would have stolen you.”

You giggle. “Oh would you have, oh, so honorable Stark?”

Cregan smiles wider and he nods as a response before he whispers. “If you had said no then, then that’s when I would have let you go.”

You hum and look at him with amusement and fondness. “It's a good thing you did not commit to killing my grandfather then,” you add, making your sons share a disgusted look that Cregan and you miss as you’re too busy gazing into each other's eyes.

“Well it’s a good thing I wasn’t born a Tully,” Jacaerys cuts in, making Cregan and you slowly peel your eyes away from each other to look at your son.

“They’re honorable people, Jacaerys,” Cregan defends them. “They’re good fighters that risked their lives for your grandmother Rhaenyra and your mother. You should not say things like that.”

Jacaerys lets his eyes linger on his father before he drifts his eyes away and turns his body to be able to look out the window some more. When Cregan is assured that his son won’t move he looks at you, making you look at him to take note of the confused look he gives in response to Jacaerys reaction.

You can’t offer him much but grabbing his hand and giving it a gentle squeeze to reassure him because you know it’ll pass quickly, he just needs to leave it be.

After that as a silence sets within the carriage, you notice the carriage slowly rolls to a stop and as you look out the window the first thing you catch a glimpse of is your firstborn, your Aerion waiting for your arrival.

You then see the grey eyes of Daenerys and behind her, you catch Alysanne with her husband Lord Ellis Blackwood, and your entire being lights up, but your attention is completely stolen by Aerion. So much so that before the carriage can come to a stop, you get up from your seat. Once the wheels stop moving against the ground you don’t wait for the doors to open, you burst out of the carriage with your eyes darting to your son.

“Aerion,” you greet excitedly before you pick up the skirt of your gown and run over to greet him with an embrace. “Aerion,” you whisper once you have him in your arms.

“Mother,” he greets in his deep gravelly voice that is like sweet music in your ears every time you hear it.

After lingering in each other's embrace you pull back and cup his cheeks. “Look at you,” muse and study his towering figure which appears to be more buff than the last time you saw him. “You’ve put on more muscle.” You point out.

He chuckles breathlessly and drops his head causing your hands to fall back to your side.

“How did the waters treat you?” He asks and lifts his head to look at you with his father's blue eyes that hit you with a wave of longing for a man who's been dead a long time.

“They were on our side, thankfully,” you assure him and caress his arms as if trying to grasp the fact that he's flesh and bones. “How was your ride here?” You redirect, causing a sparkle to shine in his eyes as he flashes you a beaming smile.

“Safe and good. Thank the gods.”

You smile softly and muse. “Yes thank the gods.”

You linger in his presence as if you hadn’t seen him a few months back for his name day and just take in the sight of him. Out of all your children who left, his departure hurt the most. Maybe it was because he was just seven years old when he went to ward with your grandfather Corlys, or maybe it was because when he was a boy he looked so much like his father, and having that beautiful reminder leave you was like losing Aemond all over again. And it was not just a temporary loss, you lost that reminder forever when Aerion stopped looking less and less like Aemond as he grew older. Now he only has Aemond’s eyes as a sole similarity, but besides that, Aemond is lost in Aerion forever.

You would argue that Daenys bears a heavy resemblance to Aemond, but the truth is she grew out of her father's looks rather quickly. She’s slim and tall just like him, and her attitude and the way she carries herself is just like him, but she hates and you mean hates when you compare her to Aemond. She takes offense to it so you stopped looking for her father within his only daughter to please her. Besides, it was easier to stop comparing the two because Daenys’ blue eyes changed when she was a babe to the same shade of brown as Alicent’s. Which must be some cruel joke the gods chose to play on you because how can you hate the woman who bore those brown eyes first but love the girl who bears them now?

In any case, you move away from Aerion and immediately take in his wife and your daughter Daenerys.

“Hello, my lovely girl,” you greet her warmly and embrace her tightly.

“I almost thought I didn't exist in the presence of my husband,” she sasses you, causing you to pull back and shake your head in response.

“Stop that,” you scold her lightheartedly and then take her face like you took Aerion’s and just admire her pretty face.

“I missed you,” she lets you know kindly, making her grey eyes soften.

“I missed you too.” You redirect without hesitation and stroke her face.

Daenerys smiles with dimples appearing on her cheeks and then lifts her eyes to the sky. “Where is she?” She asks.

You follow your daughter's line of gaze and before you can search the skies intently Astraea dives out of the cloud bank and lets out a rather greeting roar that makes all your children grin from ear to ear.

“There,” you point to your dragon flying by to most likely circle around to land close by. “Where are your kids?”

Daenerys returns her attention to you and drags out a deep breath. “Home. It’s a short trip away from home. We did not want to make it a big deal.”

You hum with a hint of sadness, but you don’t let it linger to avoid making her feel bad, instead, you think of a solution. “Well, I’ll have to pay you a visit with Astraea then.”

Daenerys smiles cheekily. “Sounds like a good idea. The kids will love it.”

You offer her a sweet smile and just as you’re going to move down the line to greet Alysanne, shouts break through the air and echo, “Aerion!” As all your sons cry out for their older brother with so much excitement before they run over and tackle him to trap him in a group embrace that he gladly welcomes as he matches their excitement.

“Dany,” you hear Cregan say before you hear him approaching his daughter who isn’t publicly acknowledged as his daughter, but is. And she, along with all your children knows that. It’s not a secret Cregan and you kept, and it’s not one that can be uncovered due to her white-silver hair and the fact that she was born at the same as Daenys, so no one is the wiser. Thankfully.

“Mother!” Alysanne calls out dramatically, making you turn to look at her and cover your mouth out of pure admiration as you take note of her little belly.

“<My little Siren,>” you greet giddily in a sing-song voice in Valyrian before you skip and jog over to catch her in an embrace as she runs over to meet you halfway.

“<Mother>,” she redirects with a hint of relief. “<How I’ve missed you.>”

You rub her back and nod gently. “I’ve missed you too. How are you feeling?” You ask right away and pull back to caress her belly. “Nauseous? Tired?”

Alysanne, who loves to be pampered and given attention to looks at you with a sweet and helpless look. “Tired. I’m always tired, but I feel much better now that you and father are here.”

You stroke her cheek and then stroke her chin. “I’m here for you now, okay?”

She sighs with more relief and nods in comprehension before her eyes dart to her father approaching her as the boys are still hogging Aerion’s attention, and she immediately looks at Cregan with a pout and her eyes brimming with tears, captivating all his attention just like a siren captures their prey

“My darling,” he coos and she coos back.

“Father.”

You roll your eyes and then finally give attention to Alysanne’s husband. “Ellis.”

“Princess,” he greets you with a bow just like his father Lord Benjicot Blackwood always did, however, Ellis’ smile is much more charming than his fathers ever was.

“How are you, my boy?” You ask him with genuine curiosity as you take him in for a short embrace.

“Honestly?” He says as you both pull away—“I’m nervous. My father says that I shouldn’t be, but I am. Alysanne is…” he sighs with concern. “Very important to me. I treasure her, and I hear what happens to women. I don’t want that fate for her.”

You swallow back nervously and remain positive yourself. “It happens, but it won’t happen to her. Just try to remain strong, and level-headed, and remember to breathe. She’ll be okay, and so will your babe. In any case, I’ll be there when she gives birth.”

Ellis lets out a relieved breath and nods in comprehension. “Good. Thank you.”

You offer him one last smile before you glance over at the others and see that Aerion now has Ser Cane captive while Cregan is talking to both Daenerys and Alysanne, letting you let out a small and content breath before you let your eyes wander to the distance to find none other than the women who summoned you here, Alys. She’s keeping to herself in the distance, letting you have your time with your family, but also making sure that you know she’s here too.

Once you make eye contact she turns away and walks away all mysteriously except there’s no mystery as to where she’s going. To avoid all the attention, she disappears into the Godswood, so you let Cregan know where you’re going and then approach Torrhen.

“Darling, meet me at the Godswood when you’re done here, okay?” You let him know as he’s still getting carried away with his brothers. “Have Ser Cane show you the way.”

Torrhen's face doesn't drop the smile he carries, he just agrees with a quick nod. “Of course mother.”

You give his arm a gentle squeeze before you watch Astraea land nearby, drawing the attention of Daenerys and Alysanne and whisking them toward her. And even though she won’t let the girls ride her, she still welcomes the attention they give her, and if the occasion arose she would protect them too just like she protects you. Therefore you’re able to leave her with your family without a second thought to walk to the Godswood to join your good friend Alys underneath the Weirwood tree.

“Hello…old friend,” you greet her as you approach her figure facing the old Heart Tree.

“Princess,” she returns in a kind voice before she turns around and shows off her face untouched by aging. “It’s a pleasure seeing you again.”

You smile brightly and when you reach her you grab her hands and caress her knuckles. “You must tell me what you do to not age. Maybe I want to live forever too.”

Alys laughs softly and with her thumb, strokes your cheek. “You age gracefully, my friend. Besides, my time will come when my flesh and bones will return to the ground and bring new life.”

You snicker teasingly at her choice of words and she catches it right away and scoffs before she moves back and points her chin to the exit. “You’re missing one. Where’s Daenys?”

You draw out a solemn breath and offer her an answer. “She couldn’t come. She said her daughter Naerys just recovered from a cold. She didn’t want to risk exhausting her so I am going to her after Harrenhal.”

Alys hums and then draws out a deep breath as her looks give a flicker of pity. “I had your husband's bones wrapped. All that’s left is you putting them on a pyre.”

You swallow thickly and nod stiffly in comprehension before you look down at the rings around your fingers. “I’ll do it after dinner. When the sun sets. I don’t want to leave him waiting longer.”

Alys nods once and as you look up at her face you see her eyes once again drift past your shoulders. You follow her line of gaze by peering over your shoulder and notice Torrhen approaching hesitantly.

“Mother?” He calls out quietly and you flash him a smile before you turn swiftly and meet him halfway to walk him toward Alys.

“Alys you remember Torrhen, don’t you?” You ask with hints of excitement as you show off your son to your friend—“Torrhen this is Alys Rivers. My friend. You met her once when you were fairly young so I don’t think you remember her, but this is her.”

There's a flicker of recognition that flashes in his grey eyes as he takes in the woman who has not aged a day since the time she went to visit Winterfell.

“Hello, it’s nice to see you again,” he greets her kindly, making her close the gap between them by grabbing his face and looking deep into his eyes with a narrowed gaze filled with curiosity.

“Gods,” she mutters. “You look every bit like your father. Shame.”

“Alys,” you exclaim with a wobbly smile threatening to spread on your lips.

Said woman lets Torrhen go and steps away, letting your son pass you a concerned look that you try to assure by caressing his arm.

“Do you have your mother's talent?” She asks your son and his eyes dart to you before they find her again and he shakes his head.

“No.”

Alys sighs with disappointment before she turns to you and asks for your permission to take him to help him, and you of course give it to her with a single nod out of desperation.

“Torrhen,” you say and bring his attention back to you whilst Alys walks closer to the weeping face carved on the tree. “I want you to go with Alys right now and let her help you.”

Your son's dark eyebrows slowly knot together and he probes. “What? Why?”

You exhale deeply and grab his hand to offer him your explanation. “I mentioned that she can do magic and she also has visions. Do you remember?”

He nods and you sigh and continue softer.

“Well, she might be able to help you understand what you can do in ways I never could. So I need you to be honest with her, okay? Tell her everything you dream and see, hm?”

He blinks slowly and interjects with a hint of disbelief. “You told her about my visions and dreams?”

You nod and his jaw hardens as his lips form to a small and displeased pout.

“I’ve seen you, Torrhen. It all takes so much from you, especially lately. I just want to offer you a solution, okay, so please for me,” you press and touch your chest. “Let her help you. She won’t take them away but maybe she can offer some relief to all the chaos, hm?”

Torrhen clenches his jaw harder but a huff of air runs out of his nose before he faces you again and hesitantly nods.

“Good,” you whisper and stroke his cheek before you step away from him and turn your head to Alys to offer her a small smile before leaving the Godswood.

After that before dinner and during dinner, you bask in the bliss that you feel over having almost all your kids under one roof again. Rickon and Daenys are missing but you don’t let who you’re missing stop the joy bursting in your heart. You know what awaits you later, and all the feelings that will come with it so for now, before you’re riddled with grief, you find joy in the sound of all your children’s laughs.

You admire the way Cregan interacts with Maekor’s twin sons, while also helping him create those splendid memories in your grandson's minds. You coddle Alysanne as she demands your affection in what she calls her time of need, but in doing so you also feel pride and happiness as you see how much Ellis loves and cares for Alysanne. He might look intimidating as he towers over with his tall and slim figure, and with his dark hair and the mysterious way he looks at the world, but he’s really sweet, funny, and affectionate. He surely makes Alysanne feel better as she deals with a wave of different emotions during her pregnancy, and that makes you glad; it reminds you of Cregan and you when you were with child multiple times throughout your life, letting you know that you couldn’t have asked for better for your daughter because Cregan has always been so good.

Moreover, you continue to get drunk in the buzzing emotions, in the way Daenerys and Aerion look out for each other as their brothers get carried away with the wine and pull them into their madness. You watch the way Maekor’s wife fails at reining him in as he’s too driven by his high from being with his brothers. You even join Jacaerys in singing a few sailor shanties and upbeat songs.

There’s only short moments of silence here and there but life travels through the haunting halls of Harrenhal. Even when you drift away and at last bring yourself to what’s left of Aemond Targaryen; your uncle, best friend, and great, epic love of your life.

“<I'm sorry it took so long,>” you talk to the perfectly wrapped bones laid down on the stone table. “<I thought they’d never find you, but here you are. I’m sorry.>”

You get closer and closer, with each step feeling a heavy weight of grief and sorrow that you haven’t felt in a long time fall over your chest and push you down and further down while faded memories once so vivid swirl through your mind.

“<Your face is a blur,” you admit, “I’m older now, but I have not forgotten you, I swear. And I still miss you.>”

You reach the side of the table he was left on and feel your breath shudder and a grip tighten around your throat.

“<You must have been lonely, Aemond. Oh…Aemond. Why didn’t you listen to me?>” You ask a pile of hollow bones with tears crawling to your eyes and making your voice sound shaky. “<Why did you have to be so driven by your ego? We…” you pause and draw in a shaky breath. “The truth is I’m happy with the life I have. I built it. Me. Yes, there are bad moments, but I made this life I’m living now. I built my family with my husband. I have loved like my mother. I have taught my children to love the same way my brothers and I loved each other…the same way my mother taught us how to love, so I can’t say I wish my life was different, but…but…>” You sniffle and press your hands on the surface of the table.

“<…There are times when I wonder what our life would have looked like. Would it have been as beautiful?>” You ask the emptiness of the room where his ghost doesn’t even linger. It’s just the presence of his remains, you, and the dancing flames giving the chambers light.

“<I like to think so because I knew you. You had a good heart and you just wanted to be loved…>” you scoff softly and finally lift your hand off your side to very slowly and carefully lay your hand on his head, feeling a wave of sorrow hit your heart and causing streams of tears to break out of your eyes.

“<I wish my love could have been enough for you Aemond,” you whisper and lower your lips to his head. “But as selfish as you were about my love and you loving me, it didn’t satisfy you. That’s why you’re gone and I’m sorry for it. I’m sorry for everything. Even though I was unfaithful, even though I was mad you killed my brother and my grandmother, even though…so many other things I still loved you with all my heart. I still do. I love you as if you were still alive. I will love you forever.>” You finish and breathe out before you press a gentle kiss on his forehead and keep your lips pressed against the cold surface.

The door proceeds to creak as it opens, causing you to stand up to your given height and steal a peek over your shoulder. When you catch Aerion walking in you wipe the tears off your face and let out another breath before interjecting.“Are you ready?”

Aerion sighs deeply. “Mother.”

“Do you want time with him?” You ask as you think that’s why he called out to you, but when you turn around to face him he doesn’t look sorrowful, he looks like he’s dreading having to say something.

“What is it?” You ask curiously

Aerion draws out another heavy breath and takes a step forward before he swallows nervously and shares what he’s keeping inside. “I will not take part in the funeral.”

You scoff and confusion flickers on your face. “What do you mean?” You mutter. “He was your father Aerion.”

Said man shakes his head stiffly. “No. He was not. Cregan was my father, Ser Cane and Corlys were my father, Aemond Targaryen never was. He might be the reason I am here, but he is no father of mine,” he finishes with a hint of disgust and your face falls with utter disbelief.

“That’s why Daenys is not here either,” he adds and drops his head to talk to the ground. “She wanted no part in it either. We are sorry for you, mother, but we do not care for him.”

“Aerion,” you warn with no actual threat in your voice.

“Do you really expect me to grieve for a man who took part in the reason our family was killed? A man who was at fault for why my grandmother is not here?”

“He had no fault in that,” you cut in for Aemond’s defense. “You know that. He might have been against my mother, but I was too at some point.”

“But you never killed your brothers—”

“He did not kill his brothers,” you cut him off but he quickly snaps back.

“That’s not the point!” He heaves and you look at him bewildered as he meets your gaze with the same eyes of the man he despises—“He was a bad man, who left. Every chance he had to stay with us he used to turn around and leave. I will not grieve for someone like that. His blood may run through my veins but I will never call him father. I will never remember him as such, and I will never claim him as such either. I am sorry mother.”

Aerion steps toward you and cups your shoulder to lean in and press a kiss on your cheek before he abandons the room and leaves you alone, letting you let out a small sob.

What could you say to make him feel otherwise? His mind is made about his father and he has a right to feel what he wants because he’s a grown man. You can’t beg him to look at things differently, you’ll probably talk to him but never beg him.

If only he could remember how much his father really loved him, but alas…he can’t.

“I guess it is just me and you, huh?” You direct to Aemond’s remains as you turn and face him again. “It’s okay. You always preferred it that way anyway.”

You let out a deep, shaky breath and then collect his remains to walk out to the pyre that was built for you and place his remains on top.

When the remains are where you want them to be you step away and that’s when it sets that Aerion kept his word; he doesn’t come. No one does and you don’t expect anyone to join you because no one knew him but you, and he would have hated it if Cregan were in attendance so it’s just you, Ser Cane, and Astraea standing around the pyre, but you’re the only one grieving him.

Alas, in the silence of the night of Aemond’s lonely funeral, as you hesitate setting his remains ablaze, two pairs of footsteps echo as they approach, so with the little energy you have you look back and gasp softly when you see Daenerys and Alysanne are joining you.

“Maekor and the others are drunk and we didn’t want them to ruin it, so we came alone,” Daenerys shares before you can ask what she’s doing out here. “We didn’t want you to be alone. And father didn’t want you to be alone either.”

You sniffle as your heart swoons and you mewl as your emotions get the best of you. “Thank you, my girls.”

Alysanne wraps her arm around your shoulders and Daenerys holds your hand, giving you the strength you need to at last say the word to send Aemond off at long last.

“Dracarys.”

.

.

.

.

.

Tagged- @namelesslosers @stargaryenx @chainsawsangel @lauftivy @winxschester @cloudroomblog @llarue @padsdarlg @sofietargaryen @gracielikegrapes @dreaming-of-the-reality @itzelpeyton @patdsinner33 @mrsdominickstark @elaena-aerrin @todoroki-slut @snh96 @urmomsgirlfriend1 @nifujiswhore @sweethoneyblossom1 @kaetastic @lightdragonrayne @squidscottjeans @oh-you-mean-me @wallacewillow0773638 @icefrye19 @thescottpack @fiction-fanfic-reader @crazymusicgirl104 @r-3dlips @strangersunghoon @just-pure-trash @ethereal-athalia @missyviolet123 @callsignwidow @xunquish-blog @tabathastan @weepingfashionwritingplaid @answer-the-sirens @silverlightsaber @rosey1981 @amortentiaaaa

[hopelesslydevoted2paige]

003. opposite

pairings: paige bueckers x fem singer! reader

word count: 564

warnings: none i think

su’s notes: 3rd chapter GRRRRREEEE this poor girl somethings always gotta happen when she goes out.. 😞 this kinda reminds me of deja vu by olivia rodrigo too 😆 anyway hope u guys likeit i love this song so much

series masterlist

she looks nothing like me, so why do you look so happy?

“Wanna eat out?” Azzi asked you, her eyes still on the game in front of her.

You’ve gotten slightly better in the past two weeks while you were staying with her. You did have enough money to get a place of your own, but no one had brought it up.

Azzi didn’t want to admit it, but she enjoyed your company. She wouldn’t mind if you decided to live with her permanently.

You looked up from your phone screen. “Yeah sure. Where are we eating?”

“We can go to the pizza place a few blocks away?”

You stiffened, the memories with Paige flooding your head. “Uh-“

“Fuck, sorry. We can always go somewhere else-“

“No it’s fine!”

Azzi placed her controller on the table. “You sure?”

“Yeah. I’m gonna have to get over it eventually.”

—

You walked into the restaurant, the warm air immediately hitting you both.

The waitress looked up at the two of you. “Table for two?”

You nodded as you both followed her to your booth.

“Wanna share?” Azzi asked as you both got settled.

“Cheese?”

Azzi grinned. “You know it.”

“One four cheese pizza please.” The waitress wrote down your order while nodding.

“Any drinks?”

You shook your head. “Just water thanks.”

“Me too.” The waitress nodded and walked away.

While waiting for your food, you and Azzi engaged in conversations about random topics and joked around.

“I never said that!” You laughed loudly, making people look at you weirdly.

“Yes you did! I remember it very clearly. You were like-“

Your attention went to the door as the door chime echoed throughout the restaurant.

Your smile dropped, making eye contact with the blue eyes you knew too well.

“Y/N? You okay?” Azzi placed a hand on your arm.

Paige mirrored your expression with her arm around her ex’s shoulders. Well, girlfriend.

Azzi looked over her shoulder. “Oh.”

“One cheese pizza?” The waitress smiled warmly and placed the plate on your table.

“Thank you.” Azzi smiled awkwardly and turned back to you. “You wanna leave?”

You shook your head, tearing your eyes away from Paige. “It’s fine. Let’s just eat and get out of here.”

Azzi looked at you sympathetically before nodding and grabbing a slice.

She tried to distract you with some small talk, but it didn’t really help when Paige was in the booth right next to yours, giggling and looking as happy as ever.

“Paige stop!” Her girlfriend giggled, wiping the tomato sauce off her cheek.

Paige scoffs. “Oh please, you still look pretty.”

You felt like your heart shattered into a million pieces. What hurt you the most is that Paige wasn’t even wrong. She was gorgeous.

“Azzi, i’m sorry. I just can’t-“

She nodded, raising her hand as the waitress from earlier went up to you guys.

“Can we get this to-go?”

She smiled warmly. “Of course! I’ll be right back.”

Thank god the service was fast. Less than two minutes later, the waitress brought your take-out bag as Azzi handed her a twenty dollar bill.

“Keep the change.”

“Thank you so much! Have a nice night.”

“I’ll try to.” You mumbled under your breath.

Azzi nudged your shoulder. “Let’s go.”

You glanced at Paige one last time, to find her already looking at you. You could tell from the pained expression in her eyes that she wanted to make things right with you.

You sigh and look away. “Let’s go.”

and i know now, even if i tried to change, that somehow you’ll end up with her anyway.

[dean-winchester-is-a-warrior]

Things Learned and Unlearned Ch. 14

Series Summary: Y/N has spent her life trying to outrun her mother's reputation. When she meets the rich and successful playboy, Dean Winchester, how quickly can he get her to stop running?

Pairings/Characters: Dean Winchester x Y/N, Sam Winchester, Jessica Winchester, Lucy Winchester (OC)

Warnings: Each chapter will have it's own warnings, but there will be smut, seduction, virgin!reader, playboy!dean, Edwardian era BS attitudes surrounding sex and women. (Technically it's set in 1900 and the Edwardian era started in 1901, but you get it.) Angst, Fluff, all the good stuff that regularly pops up in my series. 😁

Chapter Warnings: Implied smut, angst, attempted sexual assault - it's stopped, but there is non-consensual kissing and fondling. Misogyny and violence.

Word Count: 5,115

A/N: Here's Ch. 14, the penultimate chapter! I so appreciate all the love and support you're all giving this series. Hope you enjoy the latest installment. ❤️

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Dean bounded up the stairs leading to his front door, two at a time. He needed to get in and out quickly. He was already running behind and he didn’t need to be waylaid by his family. He just needed to change for the show before going to pick up Y/N. He had a lot of clothes stashed away in her hotel wardrobe, but not his tuxedo. 

Just the thought of Y/N made anger churn in his stomach again, but he pushed it aside. Thoughts of her had kept him distracted all afternoon, and it was affecting his work. 

It was pointless to be angry, anyway; it didn’t matter enough to be angry. There had always been a fifty-fifty chance of her staying or going. Sure, maybe her decision to let him bed her the night before had confirmed for him that she meant to stay, but she obviously didn’t see it that way. 

So that was the end of it.

He walked carefully through his front door, happy to find his home quiet; no one was around as he crossed the foyer to the wide staircase that led up to his bedroom. When he was halfway up, however, he heard Jessica call to him from the bottom.

“Dean! You’re here.”

He sighed. “Evidently.” He said as he stopped and turned back, trying for a smile as she climbed the staircase to join him.

“Why are you here?”

“Well, I do believe I live here.” He said sardonically. 

She cocked her head and gave him a look that said she didn’t think he was funny. “You know what I mean. You’ve barely been around since we’ve been here. Or should I say,” she raised an eyebrow, “since Y/N’s been here.”

Dean gritted his teeth. “I’ve been busy with work. Which is why I’ve gotta get going now.” He pointed upstairs. “I’m late.”

Jessica frowned. “You’re late for work at,” she checked the grandfather clock on the landing. “at seven thirty in the evening?”

Dean sighed. “I’m taking potential business partners to The Manhattan, the vaudeville theater, for a show tonight. I’m just here to get dressed.” 

He’d invited George Taskett and Simon Brighton, the owner of Clearwater Pulp and Paper to come to the show with them. He refused to believe the small voice in the back of his mind that told him he only did it so he wouldn’t be alone with Y/N all evening. He’d simply done it as an apology for being utterly distracted in their meetings earlier that afternoon.

He turned away from Jessica to start up the stairs again, but she reached out to grab his wrist. 

“Wait. I…I wanted to talk to you.”

Dean sighed. “Sure. What is it?”

Jessica let go of his wrist to cross her arms over her waist, stepping up one stair so that she was on the same step as Dean, leveling their heights. It wasn’t often that Dean found himself standing nearly eye to eye with a woman, but Jess was very tall. 

Perfect fit for Sam. Dean thought, even as the fierce look in her eye had him bracing for an onslaught.

“I was wondering what…what are your intentions with Y/N?”

Dean frowned darkly. “Excuse me?”

Jessica raised her chin. “You heard me. Y/N is a respectable woman.”

Dean’s voice was low and strained. “Have I ever insinuated that she isn’t?”

Jessica made a scoffing noise. “I know about the offer you made to her, and I believe that it was less than respectable.”

Dean’s jaw hurt from clenching it so tightly as he spoke. “My private affairs are no business of yours.” He said, turning away and starting back up the stairs.

“They are my business when they concern my governess, a respectable young woman that we’ve taken under our wing.” 

She followed him up the stairs to the landing. “Someone we see as family!” She called out to him when he started up the second half of the stairs.

He turned back to her. “Y/N is a grown woman and is quite capable of making her own decisions. In fact, I doubt very much she’d appreciate this little conversation.”

Jessica stomped up the steps after him. “I know for a fact she doesn’t want me to talk to you, because she told me not to. But I thought…” 

She reached his level again and stared at him for a moment. Then her shoulders deflated and she shook her head. “I thought I could get through to you. Make you understand that you’re throwing away a remarkable woman, kind and caring, beautiful, intelligent.”

Dean waved away her words, running up the rest of the stairs. “I’m well aware of Y/N’s attributes, thank you.”

“Then why wouldn’t you marry her? I mean my god, you love each other, that much is obvious, so I simply don’t understand your reasoning.”

Dean went deathly still, alarm bells screaming in his head. The same bells that had been going off for weeks now, maybe longer. 

He looked back at Jessica and knew his anger was obvious. “That is absolutely not true and you have no idea what you’re talking about! I am not ‘in love’ with anyone, and I have absolutely no intention of ever being married!”

He took a breath and attempted to speak calmly, but his voice was still raised. “Now, since you seem to know all about my life anyway, I’ll tell you straight out that Y/N has refused my offer and will be returning home with you in a couple of days. Seems as though continuing on as a ‘respectable woman’ as you put it, has trumped being ‘in love’.” He spat the words out, his stomach bound in knots and the now familiar panic climbing in his chest.

He turned away from her again and Jessica chased after him. “I simply don’t understand you!” She shouted at him. 

He spun back to face her. “You don’t have to understand me! You just have to mind your own damn business and stop-”

“Mommy?”

Lucy’s little voice interrupted Dean and he turned, still breathing heavily, to see Lucy standing in the doorway to her room, rubbing her eyes. She’d obviously already been in bed and their shouting had woken her up.

“What’s wrong?” 

Jessica walked over to pick her up and give her a shaky smile. “Nothing, poppet. Uncle Dean and I were just…talking.”

Lucy pouted. “Loudly.”

Dean reached over to pinch her cheek lightly, trying hard to keep his voice level. “Sorry, kiddo. Didn’t mean to wake you. I’ve gotta go now anyway, so you go on back to sleep.”

He turned away quickly before Jessica had the chance to say anything more. He tried desperately to erase her words from his mind, but they summed up one of his worst nightmares and he had a hard time wiping them away.

***

Y/N was just starting to wonder whether Dean was simply not going to come, when she saw him appear on the other side of the garden doors, knocking gently.

She stood up from her chair and waved him in. He opened the doors and stepped through, bringing the scent of cold air with him.

He nodded at her and she smiled a false smile.

He cleared his throat before speaking. “I apologize for being late. Work went longer than I expected. But we made a lot of progress. I hope you don't mind but I've invited George Taskett and Simon Brighton to the show with us this evening. Just as a gesture of goodwill while negotiations are being finalized.”

Y/N nodded. “Of course. That's smart.”

He nodded back and an awkward silence sat between them for a few seconds before Dean picked up Y/N’s coat from the chair and held it open for her.

“Well, shall we?”

***

As they jostled along the New York streets, Y/N found herself getting more and more annoyed at the continuing silence between them. If this was how the rest of their time together was going to go, she didn't think she could take it. 

She turned to look at his stiff profile; it was gorgeous like a marble statue, and just as unmoving.

She sighed. “Are we honestly not even going to talk about this?”

She saw his jaw tick. Movement at last! “Talk about what?” He asked, dully.

Y/N refused to answer such a ridiculous and redundant question, merely staring at him until he finally turned his head slightly to look at her briefly before rolling his eyes and looking forward again.

“What is there to talk about, Y/N?”

Y/N barked out a laugh without humor. “A lot, potentially.”

He growled slightly under his breath, and shifted in the seat so his torso faced her. 

“Have you changed your mind? Hmm? Ready to accept my offer after all?”

Y/N's heart squeezed tight and she heard a voice in her mind shout a resounding “Yes!” But she shook her head sadly. 

“No, but-”

“Then that's it, isn't it?! It’s finished. There's nothing else to discuss because we’ve already discussed it. So that's it, and we're done.”

Y/N felt like she'd been kicked in the stomach. She knew he was referring to the discussion being over, but the words went much deeper than their current conversation and they both knew it.

She nodded slightly and turned to stare out the front of the carriage again. “Yes, fine.”

A few minutes later, they finally pulled up outside The Manhattan Theater, which was large and impressive. The lobby inside held a glittering chandelier and lively art on the walls; Y/N knew that under better  circumstances she would have been excited and eager to be there. But the world seemed dim now, all of it lacking in color.

Then, afew minutes after arriving, her evening got much worse.

George Taskett was approaching them with a smile, and walking just behind him was Byron Temple; and he was smiling the way an alligator smiles, like he’s just waiting to swallow you whole.

The two men reached them and George held out his hand to Dean. “Good to see you Winchester and thanks again for the tickets. I don't get out very often when we come up to New York, so this is wonderful.”

He patted Byron on the shoulder. “Hope you don't mind, but Mr. Brighton sent word that he'd been called back to the mill on some urgent business and couldn't attend. So, not wanting the ticket to go to waste, I invited Byron along.”

Dean's smile wasn't echoed in his tone.

“Of course not. Good thinking.” He reached out a hand to Temple and the man shook it, his beady blue eyes calculating and cold. 

Dean stepped back and put his hand on Y/N's lower back. “You both remember my companion, Miss Taylor?”

Y/N bowed her head towards the two men. Taskett smiled warmly. “Of course I remember. Couldn't forget such a lovely face.” 

“Indeed.” Byron said, smiling again and making Y/N's skin crawl. “You seem to have bloomed even more since our last meeting.”

Despite everything going on between them, Y/N pressed herself into Dean's side and was immensely grateful when he slipped his hand around the side of her waist to hold her there.

The lobby lights dimmed briefly, letting them know the show was about to start, so they all filed into the theater. George and Byron were sitting a couple of rows behind them, so they parted ways and took their seats, agreeing to meet in the lobby afterwards.

Y/N was very glad to lose Byron Temple's uncomfortable presence. But as she and Dean sat down beside each other, she began to feel the tension grow between them once again. 

The show began, and the first act was a dancing clown who did a lot more prat falling than dancing. Everyone else laughed and clapped at his antics, but even though Y/N clapped along, she couldn't force herself to laugh. 

She smiled politely through the other acts; a man and a dog who performed tricks together, a comedian who told vaguely risque jokes that she wouldn't have understood a few months ago, a male and female dance act who were decidedly better than the clown, and many other interesting acts. Sometimes they were very talented, and sometimes just unusual. 

But Y/N knew that a few days ago she would have loved them all. Now; however, her heart was simply too battered to enjoy any of it.

Then, just before the last act of the evening, Lillian Russell came on stage. Y/N knew her name; she knew she was a singer. But judging by the reaction of the crowd, she realized that she must be an incredibly popular singer. The audience cheered loudly, clapping for a full minute as Miss Russell stood on stage, graciously waving and curtsying to the crowd.

As the cheers finally quieted, the orchestra struck up and the soprano began to sing. Her voice  was rich and sweet - certainly beautiful enough for Y/N to understand the reaction she’d received. She sang three songs, to the thunderous applause of the audience. But as she tried to leave the stage after the third, the crowd cheered for her to sing more. 

Someone near the front shouted, “After the Ball!” And everyone around him picked up the cry, chanting for her to sing the popular song. 

Y/N's stomach clenched as Miss Russell smiled indulgently and held out a hand towards the orchestra. “Alright, just the chorus through twice then, shall we?”

The familiar notes of the waltz began and Y/N felt tears come to her eyes, letting them fall as the soprano's beautiful voice gave heart wrenching power to the melancholic lyrics.

After the ball is over,

After the break of morn—

After the dancers' leaving;

After the stars are gone;

Many a heart is aching,

If you could read them all;

Many the hopes that have vanished,

After the ball.

As the orchestra played the closing notes and the crowd began to clap wildly, Y/N dipped her head towards Dean quickly.

“Excuse me.” She said, rising and making her way to the end of the aisle and then out into the lobby. Those lyrics had felt a little too relatable and the lilting melody brought back the memory of Dean waltzing with her around her hotel room.

Was that really only yesterday morning? Y/N thought. It felt like a lifetime ago.

She quickly made her way to the ladies room, incredibly grateful that it was empty while the rest of the audience watched the end of the show. She sat on one of the padded benches and tried to get ahold of herself. This whole evening had been a mistake. After their disastrous goodbye earlier, Y/N should have begged off.

As it turned out, pretending she was fine when her heart was splintering into tiny pieces was actually remarkably difficult.

After a minute or two, Y/N felt a little more in control, and splashed some cold water on her face at the sink, patting it dry with her handkerchief and then tucking it back in her purse. She took a big breath and walked back through the door, stopping dead in her tracks when she saw the man waiting for her just outside.

“I saw you run this way.” Byron Temple said in a dark voice. “I thought I should come make sure you were alright.”

Y/N squeezed her hands into fists, immediately disliking the fact that the ladies room was tucked away under the stairs, hidden from the main lobby. She supposed it was designed to give ladies some privacy, but that was the last thing she wanted right now.

She licked her lips and tried to smile. “That's very kind. But I'm fine, thank you. Just powdering my nose. If you'll excuse me, Dean will be waiting for me.”

She tried to step past him, but he snagged her wrist and pushed her further under the stairs. She tugged against his hold, trying to break it, but he held firm.

“Don't know why you're running back to that bastard. I can see that he's made you cry.” He ran his thumb across her cheek and she slapped his hand away. He merely chuckled. 

“I told you before, pet, to call on me when Winchester sets you aside. And I'm guessing by the tension between you two, and the tears staining your cheeks now, that it's either happened or is just about to happen.”

“I don't know what you're talking about.” Y/N said in a harsh whisper. “Now unhand me and leave me alone.”

“Don't be like that, pet. I promise that I can offer you a lot more than he can. I'll show you just how a woman like you should be treated.” 

Y/N yanked on her wrist again, speaking quietly but angrily. “You are disgusting and vile and I want nothing to do with you, do you hear me? Now let go of me this instant, or I’ll tell Dean what you've said here and he’ll-”

Byron laughed. “No you won't, and if you did, so what? Do you honestly think he’d care when he’s done with you anyway? Do you really believe he's going to toss away the massive deal that’s been brokered between our companies, a deal that’s been six months in the making - just because I upset his little whore?” 

Y/N clenched her jaw, embarrassment spreading through her at the degrading insult. But she had no doubt of her answer. “Yes. I know he would.”

But Byron ignored her, yanking her up against him and shaking his head. “I think what you really need is a taste of what you're missing out on.”

Before she could even squeal a protest he slammed his mouth over hers, shoving his tongue past her closed lips and making her gag. Acting completely on instinct, Y/N bit down on the slimy muscle invading her mouth, making Byron swear and rip his mouth away from hers. 

She could taste the coppery blood he left behind in her mouth, and then he backhanded her and the sharp taste of her own blood mixed with his.

“Fucking bitch.” He growled at her with quiet rage, pushing her backwards until she was shoved up against the wall. “I would have treated you so nice. But I guess now I have to show you what a real man does with nasty whores.” 

He slammed his hand over her mouth and nose, cutting off her air and making her panic instantly. He bent his head slightly, attaching his foul mouth to her neck, while his other hand was shoved up her skirts, grabbing at her thigh and pulling at the ties on her drawers as she struggled against him.

Then suddenly he was ripped away from her and she bent double, gasping air into her starved lungs. 

She looked up in time to see Dean smashing his fist into Temple's face, a loud crunch indicating that his nose was now broken. The older man fell to the ground with a howl and Dean immediately jumped on him, pummeling him endlessly with left and right blows, as blood spewed over the marble floor beneath them.

Coming out of her stupor, Y/N ran to Dean, pulling on his arm, just as a crowd began to gather. George Taskett pushed his way through the crowd to pull on Dean’s other arm, just barely managing to pry him off. 

“What on earth is going on here?” He shouted, obviously very confused.

Dean was breathing harshly, and his tuxedo was askew, but otherwise Temple hadn't managed to get in even a single blow.

“I'll tell you what's happening!” Dean shouted. “The goddamn deal is off.”

Both Y/N and George gave Dean wide-eyed, disbelieving looks. 

“Dean, don't.” Y/N said softly, beginning to tremble.

“What are you talking about, Winchester? What has gone on here?” George asked again, looking down at his Vice President laying on the ground as Byron covered his bleeding, broken nose and, horribly, spat out a tooth.

“If you think for one minute I'm going to do business with scum like this, a man so lacking in moralality that he would-,” Dean cut himself off and then waved dismissively at Temple, “well, then you're crazy.”

He grabbed Y/N's hand and quickly hustled her out through the gathered crowd. Y/N looked back helplessly at George Taskett, who seemed to be completely knocked for a loop.

Dean quickly hailed a cab and helped Y/N up into it. “Rialto Hotel, quickly.” He told the driver as he climbed in behind her. The driver clicked his tongue at the horses and they sped away. 

Dean tried to look at her more closely in the dim light of the carriage, pushing her disheveled hair off of her face. But Y/N was shaking too hard now, as the terror of the situation came crashing down upon her. She just shook her head and buried her face in Dean’s chest, weeping uncontrollably now that she was safe.

Dean gave up trying to see her face and just wrapped his arms around her and held her close. He lifted her out of the cab when they arrived, and refused to put her down until they were inside the room.

She stood in the middle of the floor, while he quickly lit all the lamps and closed the curtains. Then he returned to where she stood and gently peeled her coat off of her shoulders. He stayed behind her to take the pins out of her hair, pulling it back off her face while she inhaled deep, shuddery breaths, finally calming down enough to speak softly to him.

“Thank you.”

Dean just shook his head and turned her to face him, moving her into the light a little more and trying once again to see the damage. She watched his face contort with rage all over again as he saw her split lip and the angry bruise she could feel pulsing under the skin of her right cheekbone.

But he gritted his teeth and his voice was gentle as he kissed her forehead. “Just wait here, sweetheart.”

He moved off to the bathroom and she heard him running the bath. Tears began to fall again as he came back and led her into the warmly lit room, filled with the scent of lavender. 

He removed her clothes gently, and then helped her step into the tub. She looked back at him as he held her hand. 

“Will you hold onto me?” 

Dean nodded and stripped away his clothes quickly, stepping in behind her and sitting them both down in the warm, fragrant water.

For a little while he simply held her as she’d asked, pressing soft kisses to her temple and along her hairline. Eventually he took one of the clean cloths and ran it under the cold water tap for a moment before pressing it to the side of her face that was still throbbing.

“Y/N, what happened?” He finally whispered to her.

So she told him. Her voice was quiet and halting at first, but she eventually told him everything, including what had happened at the poker game.

Dean clicked his tongue. “Sweetheart, why didn't you tell me that sooner? I would have ended things with that snake immediately.”

“Exactly.” Y/N said with conviction. “That's why I didn’t tell you. I knew how important that deal was, how hard you'd worked on it, and I didn't want you to have to end it simply because of some insults from a jackass.”

Dean shook his head. “That wasn't something you needed to worry about.”

Y/N shrugged. “Of course it was. It was important to you.”

“Yes, but not more-” Dean cut himself off and Y/N felt him tense before he continued 

 “You should have told me.”

Y/N nodded. “Yes, I should have.”

Dean was quiet for a minute before pulling the cloth away from her cheek and kissing her there gently. “Ready to get out?”

She nodded again and Dean stood up to help her out of the cooling water.

He dried her off and then combed gently through her hair before braiding it, pampering her in much the same way as he had that first night they’d spent in the hotel together. Y/N knew she would have started crying again, if she’d had any tears left to shed. But she'd finally cried herself out and now she was just exhausted. 

Dean tucked her into bed and seemed to hesitate a moment before climbing in after her and pulling her back against his warm chest. Her heart hurt, and her head ached, but despite that, her tired mind slipped, fairly quickly, into a very restless sleep. 

Some time in the middle of the night Y/N woke to find Dean wasn't beside her. She sat up quickly and sighed in relief when she saw him sitting in one of the green chairs. The light in the room was dim, just one lamp burning, and he was cast in shadows.

“What are you doing?” Y/N called to him softly.

Dean got up and came to sit on the bed facing her. “You punched me twice in your sleep, and I thought maybe I was making you have bad dreams, holding you the way I was.”

Y/N shook her head and shuddered. “No. You weren't the bad guy in my dreams.” She whispered.

Dean pushed her braid back off her shoulder. “I'm so sorry, sweetheart. I'm sorry I brought him anywhere near your life.”

Y/N frowned. “But it isn't your fault. You couldn't have known. I'm just grateful for the rescue.” She took a deep breath. “You know…he's the reason - one of the reasons - I said no to your offer.”

Dean tensed. “Y/N…”

But she just continued. “Or, well, men just like him. He called me…” The word stuck in her throat and she cleared it. “He called me a whore, you know. And…he wouldn't be the only one. Most of the world would believe the same, if I stayed with you.”

Dean's jaw ticked, but he nodded. “Yes, I understand. And I’m sorry for that. The world can be an ugly, hypocritical place.” 

He licked his lips. “But what I’ve offered you, Y/N, it's…it's all I can offer. I can't…I won't get married, and I won't love you.”

Y/N felt what was left of her heart shatter completely.

Dean spoke softly, shaking his head. “I can't, sweetheart. I won't.” He reiterated before taking a shaky breath. “But you and Jessica are right.”

Y/N frowned, trying hard to keep the ever present tears at bay. “Jessica?”

“Yeah,” he scoffed slightly, “she took me to task earlier tonight. Said I had no right to make an offer like that to a respectable lady.”

He shrugged and one corner of his mouth lifted. “And she was right. You deserve more out of life than to be ostracized by the world. You deserve to get what you always wanted, what you told me you wanted all those months ago.” 

He smiled at her gently and ran his fingers along her jaw. “You deserve contentment, children, a respectable cottage and a…” He paused and cleared his throat, nodding as though he was answering a question in his own mind. “And a compatible husband.” 

Y/N wanted to shout at him that he'd made those things impossible now, that she wouldn’t find contentment without him, that the compatible husband she'd always wanted was sitting right in front of her. 

But she didn't say any of that; he'd made his feelings very clear, and she couldn't fault him for not loving her. It wasn't a given that just because she loved him with every fiber of her being, he was going to love her back.

“I won't love you.”

At least he wasn’t lying to her - trying to hold onto her under false pretenses.

She smiled at him now, through her brokenness. “Yes, I'll hope for those things, I guess. But…” 

She swallowed hard and tugged on his hand. “Will you come back to bed, and do those things you do to me that make me forget everything else? Kiss me until the world fades away to nothing but you and me?”

As he leaned in to claim her mouth in a searing kiss, Dean's bright green eyes glittered like jewels and she knew in that moment, that emeralds would always make her cry.

***

Y/N woke late the next morning and she wasn’t surprised by the empty bed beside her. She'd felt Dean disappear from her before the sun had even broken over the horizon. 

She sat up and saw the note that was tucked under her snow globe on the table. She wrapped the sheet around her and walked over to sit gingerly on the edge of the chair that was closest. She stared down at the folded piece of paper for a couple of minutes before picking it up and unfolding it. 

Dean's neat, bold handwriting took up the whole page.

Y/N read over the short note several times, hoping to find something more than the words on the page, but that was it.

She folded it back up and let it flutter to the floor as she wound up her snow globe and set it down on the table, staring at it as she rested her chin on her folded arms. For a long time, as her tears flowed silently, she drank in the frozen scene of permanent joy that could never be hers.

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[patrophthia]

so, like theo is deaf and he has to wear a pin. and the reader knows sign language as well (they both do). theo was quite irritated by the reader because she was not looking at him for like 2 days smthg. (yes, yes, ik). idk, sad Theo takes off the pin and isn't talking too much and idk they talk in sign language

wait this is a fun idea! thank u for sending it in!

you’re nice | theodore nott

this is part of my 600 followers celebrations! you can join it sending an ask!

→ pairing: deaf!theodore nott x reader

i personally don’t know sign language, nor do i know anyone who does so please take this very lightly! either way i hope you like this!

It wasn’t your intention to ignore Theodore, it’s just been a hectic week and you had to prioritise your time in a way where you wouldn’t be able to look Theo every passing second of the day.

But once you’ve realised, it was already too late. Theodore had already took of his pin, and began ignoring you in return. You could only wish he’d give you a chance to explain yourself but it seems as though any attempts you made to do so was failing.

You didn’t really have much of plan. You just know sad Theodore could be a little sulky and hell bent on not communicating with anyone whatsoever; not even his closest friends. “What did you do, princess?”

“I didn’t do anything,” you frown at Blaise, not caring about nickname seeing as he’s assigned you it the second you and Theodore began dating. “I got a little busy on school work and kind of forgot about him and now—”

“—you forgot about your boyfriend?” Blaise cuts you off.

You frown deepens, groaning slightly as you bent your head backwards. “It’s not like that,” you explain, straightening yourself to look back at him. “You know how hectic it is during this time of the year and I just wasn’t able to look at him and I guess —therefore, talk to him.”

“And now he’s decided to ignore everyone just because you ignored him,” Blaise blew out a whistle. “On purpose.”

“You don’t need to remind me,” you scowl. “What do I do?”

“Talk to him,” Blaise says off-handedly. And when you fix him an annoyed look he adds on. “You know he hates it when you are upset, so maybe try using that?”

“You want me to act upset in front of an upset Theodore?” You concluded his words. “Are you stupid? Do you hear yourself?”

“How about you not doubt my intelligence and try it?” Blaise says with a roll of his eyes.

“What would I get in return?” It’s more like banter between the two of you, now having grown comfortable with one another.

Blaise snickers. “A boyfriend who wears his pin like he’s supposed to and isn’t sulking every time we see him.”

That’s a fair enough point, you guessed. Now on a mission to find Theodore. It didn’t take long, knowing that Theo was a creature of habits who liked to attend his classes a few minutes earlier than it starts.

The DADA classroom was empty, save for Theodore, when you arrived. Standing right in front of him as you said something Blaise had suggested before you made your way over. “You know what I heard?”

It was second nature for you to speak while you sign by now, your hands moving on their own accords. “Apparently, you’re only dating me because you think I’m pretty.”

Theodore only frowns, shaking his head. He’s not signing back yet and you take it as a sign for you take push his buttons a slight bit more.

“If not that then why?” You sign, with a small pout. “Tell me.”

“I’m dating you because you’re nice.” And there you have it, Theodore’s signing back. “To everyone.” Then after a beat, he adds. “Even me.”

You’ve been frowning a lot today. And his ‘even me’ makes your frown deepen. “What do you mean by that?”

“I know I can be a lot,” he signs, “but you’re always nice to me and that’s why I like you.” He finishes. “You being pretty is just a reason for me to like you even more.”

He grabs at your hand, pressing a gentle kiss at the back of your palm before letting go. Not a second goes by and you’re already missing his touch. “If you like me so much,” you began, “then wear this pin like you’re supposed to, to prove it.”

It’s silly. He knows it. You know it. Because, you know he loves you whether he wears the pin or not but it did nothing to stop your heart from fluttering when he places his pin in its rightful spot only to smile at you afterwards.

He loves you and even though he might not say it, he hopes you know it.

— from bee: it wouldn’t be a theo fic written by me if there was no blaise meddling in relationships!

[sxddekarios]

a certain kind of (arcane) hunger

fic summary: gale's practiced tongue strikes again! gale tries eating out tav to satisfy the orb.

4.4k words

read on ao3

Tav sat at the lake with her head in her hands.

She had told Wyll and Astarion the night before to take the red pouch from the chest to trade in the Grove. They thought that red and purple were somehow the same thing, and the items had already been sold when Tav raced back … then berated them for not thinking to check the contents to make sure they were just selling extra potions.

Instead, they pawned off her stash of magical items. Full of rings, necklaces, weapons, and shields. All for Gale to absorb the magic from, so he’d never be overcome by his arcane hunger.

Tav knew she’d be able to start replenishing the stash once they found a new hoard of enemies to take out, but she knew they’d had to wait at least a few days.

Soft footsteps sounded behind Tav. She turned her head to take in the wizard before her. Clad in his purple robes, the orb stood out starkly on Gale’s chest. It looked angrier than usual.

Of course, Tav thought, it couldn’t have acted up last night when they still had over a dozen artifacts.

“Hello,” Gale smiled and waved at Tav, oblivious to the earlier fight between her, Wyll, and Astarion. “Mind if I join you?”

Tav smiled back at him. “Go ahead.” Her heart rate kicked up as he sat next to her, his leg brushing against her knee for a moment.

“I see your little friend is hungry,” Tav commented. She knew it was better to get the conversation over with now, so they could work out what to do.

“You have a keen eye,” Gale let out an embarrassed chuckle at their predicament. “It usually doesn’t creep up on me so suddenly, but it’s not too terrible yet. I can hold out for a little longer, if you need.”

Tav let out a deep sigh. “Well… I actually do kind of need that. The guys accidentally traded off our artifacts, so we’re out for now. I’ll get some as soon as we can, I promise. I’m sorry, Gale.”

She felt so disappointed in herself, wishing she had instructed Wyll to look in the damn bag. Or better yet, she could’ve gone herself. But her cramps had other plans for her.

“That’s alright,” Gale assured her. He moved his hand over to hers, both of them feeling a bit light-headed at the contact. “It’s not your fault.”

How did she end up with such a sweet companion?

Her thoughts were interrupted when Gale let out a pained grunt and squeezed her hand. Tav turned her body to face him and ask if he’s okay.

“Yeah,” he replied. The hoarseness in his voice said otherwise. As did the orb glowing a dark purple in his chest.

“Gale…” Tav started, trying to figure out what to do. He needed something to consume tonight. There’s no way he would be okay through the night with the orb’s demands increasing so rapidly.

“You were right.”

Gale and Tav snapped around, startled at the voice that joined them. They noticed Withers had come upon them*. Keeping up with his creepy air of omnipotence*, Tav thought.

Withers cleared his (seemingly nonexistent) throat. “About the nature of your affliction, Tav. Do with that what you will.” And with that, Withers was walking back towards the camp.

Gale was the first to voice their confusion. “Um, do you know what he’s talking about?”

Tav looked at him, eyebrows still furrowed. “No. Well, I don’t think so. I might. But … I don’t know how he would know about that. Or why he wouldn’t explain anything. But it could be about something totally different, and I’d look like a fool bringing up the only thing I can think of.”

“If there’s only one thing you can think of, then I’m sure that’s it,” Gale answered. “Plus, Withers is always cryptic. While I agree that it’s unfair of him to leave you in the dark about this, it’s not out of character for him.” He hoped his words could comfort her.

He continued, “If it is something different, then at least you’ll know if you … ask, or try, or whatever it is you think you need to do. How bad could it be if you’re wrong?” Gale meant the question practically — he didn’t want to mock her, but he wanted to help her weigh her options.

Tav scoffed at his question. It could be catastrophically embarrassing, she thought. Who knows if Gale would ever see her the same, or even want to be her companion, if she suggested such a ludicrous idea.

She settled on an answer. “Mostly devastating embarrassment on my end, and an undue amount of discomfort on both of us.” Tav laughed a bit at the thought, grateful for humor distracting her from anxiety.

Gale raised his eyebrows at her. “Us as in — you and I?” He didn’t understand how he’d be involved in this. He thought it was between her and Withers.

“Yes,” Tav sighed. “If it’s … the theory I’ve had … and the reason why he’d bring it up now, it definitely involves you.” Gods, and if it wasn’t? Even if it was true, it would be mortifying to see his reaction, his rejection. It was crazy, and she knew she wasn’t good enough for him.

Gale was just getting more confused as the conversation went on. Luckily, his opinion carried greater weight since the embarrassment Tav was afraid of was connected to him. He simply wouldn’t judge her, and then there’d be nothing to be embarrassed about.

“Well, I’m certainly not going to judge you. Would you like to go on?” He asked her.

“If I must,” Tav muttered. She knew Gale would pick up on her exasperation being due to the secret she was going to share, not because of him.

She shifted her body back to face the lake. “I … I may have been cursed. I’m not sure if it was before I was born or after, but,” Tav paused to gather her strength.

“Basically, I can’t have sex. Penetrative, at least. I have my own theories about who cursed me, and why, but I suppose that’s for me to bug Withers about later. Not that he’d answer. Anyways, this involves you since it’s a magical curse. Weave and all.” ”So,” Tav continued, “if you take your condition literally… Needing to feed on the Weave, then…” She waved her hand as if the motion explained the rest. He’d probably get it.

That can’t be what she means, Gale thought. But, what else could it mean? Or is this just wishful thinking?

He asked her, “Do you mean that if I ate you out, that would satisfy my orb?” Gale blushed as the words left his mouth, but he kept his gaze on Tav.

She responded by burying her face in her hands again. “It could. Though it’s a crazy idea, I know.”

Gale paused to consider the idea. “It’s not exactly crazy. I mean, the curse itself begs a myriad of questions, but the application of it now… It does make sense, seeing how the orb feeds off the Weave*.”* Gale mused. “How do you feel about trying that?”

Tav giggled at the absurdity of his question. “I feel like … like you should answer that question first.” There was no way she was going to tell him how badly she wanted him when he didn’t feel a thing towards her. Besides repulsion, maybe.

“Your answer is the more important one here!” Gale exclaimed. “No matter. I wouldn’t ask you if I wasn’t interested, Tav. I’ve had feelings for you for quite a while now, if you haven’t noticed. I’d be happy to try under normal circumstances — but I haven’t asked because I didn’t know if you felt the same, and I’ve avoided … intimacy since the instability of the orb. I don’t think it’d normally be safe, but if the intimacy itself can stabilize the orb, and Withers knows that, then I’m willing.” Far more than willing, he thought. Eager.

Tav’s head was rushing with conflicting thoughts at Gale’s confession. He had feelings for her? Why her? Would he be disappointed at the extent of their tryst? Of course he would — who wouldn’t? The best she could hope for was that he didn’t try to take it farther, like everyone else.

She looked into Gale’s eyes for confirmation of his feelings. She found the same warm glow that she fell in love with, along with an added dose of earnestness. It looked beautiful with the dark webbing under his eye.

“I hadn’t noticed,” Tav said softly. “I … also harbor feelings of my own. So, what do you say we run this crude idea past Old Man Withers?” Tav held out her hand for Gale as she rose to her knees.

Together they rose, and sought confirmation for a very practical tryst.

Hours later, Tav laid on her back in Gale’s tent.

Gale laid on his side next to her, stroking his fingers up and down her arm. They were trying to work out the logistics before they actually got to doing the deed.

“I don’t know if I have to orgasm for this to work,” Tav admitted. “I mean, I shouldn’t, right?”

Gale raised an eyebrow at her concern. Why is this a concern? Did she think he couldn’t make her orgasm? It had been a long time since his year in solitude, but he hasn’t lost all of his skills.

He mulled over her question nonetheless. “Thinking of the Weave as a physical thing, yes, I think you would have to orgasm. That’s probably how the Weave would be exchanged in that encounter. If it was just … emitting from you, I’d have noticed it by now.”

Tav groaned in frustration, raising her arms up to cover her eyes. Why must everything be so difficult for her?

She opened an eye to find Gale staring at her in confusion. “I’ve never….” she trailed off. “I don’t think I can.”

“Oh,” Gale responded immediately, taken aback by this. He’d never considered the possibility before.

“My stupid nerves can barely feel anything. It’s like trying to scratch an itch with a sphere.” Tav had never thought of that metaphor, but it fit perfectly.

Gale hummed in thought. If he thought in terms of the Weave, a sphere was smooth. What Tav needed was edges.

“What if I,” Gale muttered a new incantation he thought of and felt his fingers start to vibrate on her arm, “did this?”

Tav stared at the wizard in shock. Goosebumps were forming on her arms, and she thanked the stars for the man next to her.

“Then I think you’re about to have a very satisfied orb.”

Gale kissed his way down Tav’s body, moving the blanket on top of her when he wanted access to a new spot. Soon enough, he was laying on his stomach, gently sucking on her upper thighs.

He paused to grab a pillow to put under Tav’s hips. With a little wiggle, she was in perfect position for him. “Are you sure?” He asked her.

“Yes,” Tav breathed.

He pressed another kiss to her thigh. “We can stop at any point, alright? Just give me a little push.”

Tav smiled at his words. So, so sweet. “Okay,” she said softly. Her cheeks were flushed, but the darkness and blanket over her torso made her feel more secure.

Gale slowly moved his hands up her thighs until his thumbs reached her unclothed center. He kept his eyes on Tav’s as he lowered his head to press light kisses around her center. He was already hard.

Tav whimpered at the kisses, causing Gale to smile against her body. He grew closer to her core, kissing up from her opening until he finally reached her clit. Instead of kissing it though, he blew a warm breath on it.

“Gale,” Tav whimpered, clutching at his hair.

“Yes, Tav?” Gale asked with a smirk before blowing on her clit again.

Tav glared at the man between her legs. “You know what, you obstinate wizard.”

Gale chuckled at the rise he was getting out of her. He leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to her clit. All the while keeping his eyes on her, of course. “This?” He asked cheekily.

“Mhm hmm,” was all Tav could get out.

Gale’s kisses grew more open-mouthed every time, until his bottom lip came under her clit and he gave it a gentle, tugging suck. He fought another smile as he heard her whimper again. Though it was dark in the tent, he knew her cheeks were gorgeously flushed.

His tongue finally darted out to meet her clit, slowly licking from bottom to top. Tav bucked her hips into his mouth, causing him to become even more intoxicated by her sweet scent.

He continued to devour her pussy. His tongue traced up and down her clit, swirled in circles, and darted out in flicking motions as he sucked on the small nub. He pulled away for a second to mutter the incantation again, causing his tongue to flicker to life.

As soon as Gale’s tongue returned to Tav’s clit, she muffled a cry.

“Is this alright?” Gale pulled away to ask. Luckily, the Weave seemed to know what the purpose of this magic was, as the vibrations paused while he spoke.

“Yes,” Tav said in between deep breaths. “It’s good.”

“Good,” Gale grinned. “Now just lay back and relax.”

Tav rested her head against the pillows, moaning softly while Gale tongued at her clit. The vibrations were steadily getting stronger. She marveled at how she could actually feel, and how good it felt.

Gale dipped his tongue down to her opening to taste the small trickle of wetness gathering there, groaning as he took her in. He gently moved his tongue around the outside of her entrance, massaging the tight muscles.

Regretfully pulling away again, he asked if she wanted anything inside of her. “I know you said penetrative sex is a no, but I wasn’t sure if it’s just cocks or … anything,” he stammered the last part out.

Tav took a moment before answering. “I can take a tongue, or a finger. Just that though. It’ll be tender, but if it’s gentle and slow and oiled… It should be good. Anything more, even two fingers, hurts like hell.” It felt odd admitting this, but in such a vulnerable position, she felt it wasn’t too out of place.

“Okay,” Gale pressed a kiss to her clit, causing her to shudder in pleasure. “I promise you I won’t put anything more inside of you. I never want to hurt you.” He lapped at her. “Do you want to try my tongue inside of you? Just to see how it feels?”

“Sure,” Tav agreed. She trusted him to stop if she said it hurt too much. Anything more than a 4 on the scale, she reminded herself.

Gale began to gently but firmly press his tongue against her opening, coaxing the muscles to relax a bit. He brought his thumb to his mouth, sucked on it, then brought it up to her clit, stroking circles while it intuitively started to vibrate.

Then, he started to press his tongue into her. It was a slow process given how tight she was, how firmly her muscles pressed back against his tongue. Her hands didn’t tighten into fists in his hair though, so he carried on.

His cock twitched in his trousers at the taste enveloping him now. It was wonderful; he never wanted to leave this place between her thighs. He moved his tongue in gentle strokes, as if he was licking her walls, all the while focusing his thumb on her clit.

He was lost in his own pleasure between Tav’s sweet whimpers and the taste of her pussy. He eventually slowly pulled his tongue out, but kept up with his thumb’s mission. “How was that?”

“Good,” Tav responded. “It didn’t hurt too much. Your thumb, though. Fuck, that’s good.”

Gale and his cock perked up at her praise. He wished it didn’t hurt at all, but he was glad it still felt good. “Do you mind if I replace my thumb with my tongue now?” He was eager to taste her again. It can’t have even been two minutes, but he missed it dearly.

“As long as you…” Tav trailed off, unsure of how she was going to work “finger me” into her quip. She definitely had an idea. But it had gone under the thought-numbing pleasure Gale was bringing her to. So it was his fault, really.

She decided to just ask for it. “Could you finger me? Gently?” The question was less embarrassing than she thought, probably due to the genuine enjoyment Gale seemed to have settled between her thighs.

“Of course, sweetheart.” Gale brought his other hand to his mouth and sucked on his index finger. He really wanted it to be as smooth as possible, so he added an oiling spell. That should keep her slick, plus he could refresh it without removing his finger and hurting her.

His finger pressed against Tav’s entrance as his thumb continued to buzz up and down on her clit. “Can you take some deep breaths for me?” He asked, hoping it would help relax her.

“Okay.”

After five deep breaths, Gale began to push his finger into her. It felt like an even tighter fit this time, and he kept his gaze on her to gauge her pain level. “How is this?”

“Okay,” Tav repeated. “Thanks for going slow,” she added in appreciation.

He could see she was hurting, but the tension in her face lessened as his finger got deeper inside of her. Once he was mostly sheathed, he kept his finger still so she could breathe and adjust.

“Would you like to rate your pain 1-10?” Gale inquired in between her hitched breaths.

“Um, four. But it’s going down,” Tav responded. She hesitated before asking, “Do you think G-spots are real?”

“If G is for Gale, them I most certainly believe they are,” Gale joked. “But yes, I do. I can find yours, if you like. You feel tightest towards your entrance, so I assume that’s where most of the pain is? Because once that goes down a bit more, maybe to a two, I can crook my finger and begin my search. The base at your entrance should stay relatively stable.”

Tav smiled, thanking him for taking her seriously and thinking it out so well. She tried to stamp down her jealousy at the thought of him fingering other women, and a god, before he fucked them.

“I think I’m ready for you to move,” she whispered. Gale nodded in response, and she felt his finger crook inside of her.

He began brushing his finger against her walls, and she whined at the feeling of it. “Still okay,” she assured Gale. “But … isn’t it deeper?”

Gale shook his head. “Nope, it’s right around here.” He reconsidered. “Or, it usually is. I can go deeper though if you’d like?”

“Yes please,” Tav responded.

“Your wish is my command,” Gale said with a grin. He refreshed his lubrication spell before pushing his finger further into her pussy. He felt around, stroking against her walls until he heard an exquisite gasp.

“I think I found it,” Gale smirked.

Tav thought it looked more like a shit-eating grin, but she was in no state to argue. Well…. she could argue a little bit. “That,” she said between pants, “still means I’m right. It’s, ah, deeper.”

“Yes,” Gale chucked. “You are indeed correct, as usual. You are truly one of a kind, darling.” The orb and his cock pulsed in unison to remind him of the arcane goal here. Feeding. “Now, would my one of a kind darling like my tongue on her pussy while I finger her?”

Tav felt a rush of heat through her at Gale’s words. The mouth on him! She wasn’t surprised that he spoke so smoothly, so assured, but she was still surprised that she was lucky enough to be on the receiving end of this talent.

“Please,” Tav whimpered, her voice getting higher.

Gale smiled, excitement growing as he replaced his thumb with his mouth and resumed his feast. Gods, he thought, she tastes even better now. His finger on her g-spot caused more of her arousal to leak out, coating his tongue and filling his senses.

He groaned against her clit, causing Tav to buck her hips and moan. She began using her hands in his hair to guide him. Gale got even more turned on by this.

He continued lapping against her swollen clit until she pulled his head away. “Can you conjure a mage hand?” She asked, clearly embarrassed but too desperate to let it silence her.

“Of course, what would you like it to do?” He asked as he conjured a spectral hand, glowing a soft blue.

She lifted one of her hands out of his hair, flashing it in front of him. “Can it hold this hand up over my head?” It almost sounded like she was pleading.

“Sure,” Gale obliged, sending the hand to circle around her wrist and bring her hand to rest upon the top of the pillows supporting her head. Spectral fingers intertwined with Tav’s, adding a bit of pressure to pin her hand in place. Her other hand remained in Gale’s hair, scratching his scalp into a blissful oblivion.

“Like this?” Gale asked. Groaned, really.

“Yes,” Tav responded. “Thank you.” Her heart was hammering in her chest.

Gale smiled up at her. He marveled at her beauty, her vulnerability, her kindness, her gratitude, everything that made her her.

And her taste, he added, as he brought his mouth back to her pussy. He kissed her clit while tapping his tongue against her, one finger still stroking her g-spot, and mage hand pinning one wrist above her head.

Tav was a writhing mess, her pleasure evident through her sweet whimpers. She continued guiding him with her hand, so he was making short, light, vertical licks on her clit. Her grip in his hair tightened, which Gale took as a cue to ramp things up.

He started moving his finger faster, keeping still under the first knuckle, but rapidly stroking her g-spot. Almost tickling it, he thought. He matched this pace with his tongue, taking care to stay consistent to help her reach her orgasm. Her firstorgasm.

That’s it, he thought, just relax for me. Let me make you feel good.

He continued his ministrations, so caught up in her pleasure that he barely noticed his throbbing cock. Tav’s fingers tightened in Gale’s hair before she cried out as her body spasmed in waves of pleasure. Gale kept pleasing her with quick strokes from his buzzing finger and mouth through her orgasm, causing a warm fluid to squirt against his lips and pool in the palm of his hand.

He dutifully kept going until he felt Tav’s vaginal spasms begin to weaken around his finger. He stopped the vibrating, slowed his tongue, and pressed kisses to her clit, causing her to jump and whimper adorably.

“Are you alright?” He inquired softly as he slowly slipped his finger from her. He rose up on his knee, wincing at the creak, to get a better view of her. He noticed the mage hand that still held her wrist. He dismissed that, feeling a bit jealous that he wasn’t holding her hand.

As he brought his wet finger to his mouth to revel in her taste, her fluid ran down his wrist and forearm. He also noticed the orb. It was glowing, but an excited, light purple. He didn’t feel pain, he didn’t feel the arcane hunger that plagued him earlier. He felt completely satisfied. Save for the cock throbbing in his trousers, of course. It worked.

“Mhm,” Tav moaned. “That was … different.” Different was an understatement, but she didn’t know how to describe it. She was still aching though, and it was much less pleasant now.

Ever the gentleman, Gale was prepared to take care of her. “Can I get you anything? Do anything for you? Are you sore?”

“Yeah, actually.” Tav winced as she tried to sit up, so Gale gently pushed her back down.

“Rest,” he instructed. He grabbed a towel and began to dry off her thighs and pussy.

“I wish I had ice,” Tav lamented, knowing that was the only solace she’s ever had for her pain.

“Hmm,” Gale contemplated. “I could use an enchantment to make my hand cold and hold it against you. Do you think that would help?”

Tav gasped out an excited “yes!”. Gale chuckled in response, placing the towel off to the side and muttering a small glacies before pressing a cold hand to her center. Tav groaned immediately, seemingly in pleasure.

“Is this okay?” Gale asked.

Tav closed her eyes and nodded. She spread her legs a little to allow Gale better access, causing his cock to stir again. “This is great,” she said. “Thank you.”

“Of course, Tav.” Gale replied. “You deserve it. You deserve the best. I’m sorry about hurting you, though I’m glad I got to bring you pleasure.”

His words brought her back to reality — the whole reason that spurred her coming on his face. Her eyes snapped open and met Gale’s. “Did it work?”

“Yes,” he smiled, glancing down at the orb. “I’m all good now. No more arcane hunger for me.” He wished they discovered this earlier. He’d much rather eat her out than consume magical artifacts. How mundane. He hoped they’d be able to keep up this mutual agreement. He hoped they’d have more — a real romance, where he got to kiss and hold her.

“Good,” Tav replied before closing her eyes again. “Now get down here,” she tugged at the hand that wasn’t serving as her ice pack. He laughed and acquiesced, lying down and curling up to her.

“Can I kiss you?” Gale asked, bringing his free arm under her neck.

Tav smiled and nodded. Gale closed his eyes and brought his lips to hers. She quickly held up her hand to stop him. He opened his eyes to find her grimacing. He worried that he did something wrong — did she not really want to be with him? Did he move to fast? Did she not like kissing after oral?

“Actually,” Tav said, “Could you do something about …” She waved a hand at his mouth, “that first? I’m not fond of tasting myself.”

Gale laughed at the apologetic tone in her voice. “Sure. But for the record, I’m very fond of tasting you.”

[obsessednothing]

Crush

Frederik Vesti x fem!reader, George Russell x fem!reader

Summary: it’s just a stupid crush from her earlier days of fangirling. But when she gets to meet him, it’s not that stupid anymore…

Warnings: cheating; infidelity; curse words; implied smut; no use of Y/N; fluff and love; heartbreak

Word count: 4.9k

A/N: I really struggled with this one, I wrote this a while ago, when my English wasn’t my cup of tea so I spent a lot of time with editing, rewriting, but after all I think it’s good. Also it’s another fic about cheating (and I’m writing another already, heh), I think that I might need a serious help in this matter, but whatever, I like to write it, however I wouldn’t do that to anybody I love. Enjoy it!

Please don’t use my writings without my permission! Pictures found on Pinterest.

———

“Are you really ready for this?” Fred said to her hair while she stood in front of the mirror, putting on her jewellery.

“I’m more than ready, Fred. I want to be there for you.” Her nerves were getting the best out of her, but she tried to smile and not worry him much.

They were together for more than a year. Frederick Vesti was driver for Prema team in F2 and he was considered being reserve driver for Mercedes F1 team. Today was a big day for him, he was supposed to get through a practice day at the track for F1. Rookies did that through the season, getting this opportunity from the teams on the grid.

As they arrived to the paddock hand in hand, fans were everywhere trying to get the best snapshots of them. She smiled and held her head high but inside, she was nervous as hell and Fred could tell from the grip of her hand. He just switched his hand from hers over her shoulders in protective way. They got through the crowds to the Mercedes garage, where was the usual chaos.

“Fred! Good you’re here already. And who might this be?” Toto, the Mercedes team principal, was at them with questioning look.

“Hey, Toto. This is my girlfriend.” Fred introduced her with smile.

“Nice to meet you.” Toto offered his hand to her as she accepted it with smile.

“Nice to meet you too, I’m glad to be here.”

“You need to find George. It’s his car you're gonna be driving today.” Toto said and was gone in an instant.

She felt her cheeks being hot. George was her crush from earlier days she’s been watching racing. When she met Fred, she didn’t know that he’s driver. But she wouldn’t change a thing. She’s way past her crush. Right?

“Are you alright? Is everything okay?” Fred gave her arm a reassuring squeeze.

“Yeah, I’m okay, don’t worry. I’m actually enjoying myself.” she chuckled a little.

After some more greetings, they met with George.

“Fred! All lookin’ good! Oh, hey, nice to meet you too, finally. Fred was always talking about you.” George was sparkling with joy as he talked and greeted with her. She smiled widely at him, her dream came true.

“She’s talking about you too, actually.” Fred nudged her shoulder with chuckle.

“Oh no- that’s not-“ she felt her cheeks hot, trying to deny it. She wasn’t talking that much, but she maybe pinpointed it a few times.

George genuinely laughed about it, flashing her his significant smile.

“That’s okay. More fans, more success I guess.”

As they went through the preparations, she focused on Fred, always knew how he was stressed to do the best job and how he was nervous around Toto. When it was the time for him to hop into the car, she went quickly towards him and kissed him for good luck.

“Take care outside. I’m watching.” She smiled, caressing his cheek with loving gaze, which made Fred relax a bit.

“You’re gonna be proud of me.”

“I already am.”

They didn’t notice how George was watching them. Frederik having that good looking girl was almost a crime. And the way she was blushing around him. Oh no, that’s not appropriate, George, Carmen is somewhere around here waiting for you.

She walked to stood beside George, letting out the breath she didn’t know she was holding.

“Feeling scared?” He asked with a soft smile of empathy.

“Always. I’m actually scared shitless every time he gets in that car.” She chuckled nervously.

“Would you like to get some coffee? It’s gonna be an hour or so before he gets back and I’m not allowed to be anywhere close.” He suggested.

“That’s good idea. But I need to be close to the track, I need to watch him.” She smiled.

As they made it to the top roof of the VIP lounge with their cups of coffee, she eagerly watched the track for a sign of Frederik. When she spotted him, she waved a little with excited smile.

George was watching her, how she was excited for her boyfriend, how she seemed to love the racing. And how she waved at that car. His car. And how he would like that she would be waving at him. No, no, George, these thoughts are not for you.

She sipped a little from her cup of coffee as she turned her look at George.

“So, where’s Carmen?” She asked feeling her insides clenching at her name.

“Mmm I think she’s with other girls from the grid. She’s not spending much time outside of the Mercedes hospitality as she wants her own peace. At least she’s here and it gives me some comfort also.” He answered looking into the blank space.

She quirked her brow at those words. “Hm… everyone have it’s own way of spending their time here. Even if this is my first time, I feel like I belong here more than anywhere else. I know how it feels like being on the other side, sitting on the grid tribune and hoping some driver would take notice of me. Not that I would be so desperate, but I saw you one time I was at Hungaroring, and I naively thought that you just waved at me. Silly me.” She laughed softly as she spoke and she wasn’t really sure why she told him this but it made sense to her at the time.

His eye softened at her confession. He would wave at her if he knew. Fuck, again, George?

“How you and Fred met? You’re not together for long, are you?”

“Actually, it was kind of funny. I was in Denmark last spring and I was just walking around the park with my AirPods on and somehow I crossed his path, when he was riding a bike. He fell in the nearby pond, trying to avoid the crash. And I felt so guilty that I apologised nearly thousand times. We shared laughs, stories and it clicked instantly. It was a year and half already and I couldn’t imagine to have someone better by my side. We decided to take it slow and not to worry about public eye. But now we’re here, taking another step in our relationship.” As she talked she was somehow in her dreamy haze when she smiled at the memories. Fred was truly an amazing partner, supportive, loving, everything she wanted in a man.

“That sounds like a scene from the cheesy rom com. No offense.” George tried to chuckle in funny way, brushing off another of his thoughts.

“Yeah, it may, but it’s true. I didn’t consider myself lucky until that day I met him.” She chuckled, taking another sip of her coffee.

Today, I’m the luckiest. Holy shit, George, get a grip man.

As she caught a glimpse of Fred in the car getting through another lap, Carmen appeared out of nowhere finding George.

“Hi, gorgeous, I was looking for you.” Carmen smiled, sneaking her hands around his waist while eyeing her. She turned her look from track at Carmen and she smiled politely.

“You must be Carmen. Nice to meet you.” She offered her hand to her with kind smile. George noticed the confusion of his girlfriend.

“She’s here with Frederik, who is on the track instead of me, like I told you. She wanted to have the best view over the track.” George knew how to navigate Carmen’s feelings to get her comfort. Carmen on the other hand relaxed.

“Ah, I see, nice to meet you too. Your first time here?”

“First time at the paddock, but overall not quite first time. I know the drill.”

“So, you’re a fan. Who is your favourite driver?”

“It’s Fred of course..”

“No, I mean, beside your boyfriend.”

“You mean before I met Fred? I was fan girl for Max Verstappen.” She chuckled as she lied smoothly. George snorted a little, but Carmen was satisfied with the answer.

“But that days are long gone, I don’t have time for fan girling over someone else beside my man.” She smiled looking over track again.

George felt strange jealousy. Carmen wasn’t like that for a long time. Yes, she was supporting him from aback, but she was more into her own stuff that came with being his girlfriend.

Fred got the fastest lap during the practice. When he came back to the garage, everybody congratulated him, bringing the joy and excitement to his performance. But the first person he wanted to see was his girlfriend. She nearly jumped into his arms with giggles.

“You were amazing.”

“Thanks, I was shaking throughout the whole session.”

She kissed his cheek, when she caught George staring at them from afar. He noticed that and he cleared his throat, going to look over performance sheets.

Fred spent another hour with him going through his performance on the track. She spent her time aside, going through her own business.

From that day on, Fred was spending much more time over the Mercedes garage during the races. She wasn’t always able to attend, but she tried as much as she could. She became a very good friend with George and others in the team. Carmen tried to talk with her also, but she held that strange distance between them.

On the other hand, George tried to suppress his thoughts and feelings towards her.

———

There was a party after the qualifying day in Montreal, she arrived in the last minute feeling badly jet lagged. As she was getting her third drink of the night, she felt a little tipsy, the tiredness wearing her off. Fred was enjoying himself maybe too much, he was drunk as hell and dancing with the guys, completely forgetting about his girlfriend, who was standing beside a bar downing her drink, deciding to get some sleep. George saw her and he was on his way to her.

“Not enjoying the party?” George was beside her startling her a little.

“Holy shit, George… no, I’m- I’m tired and Fred is having fun himself.” she sighed as she went to the elevator and George went after her.

“I saw how he’s having fun, totally ditching you.” George crossed his arms.

“He’s just stressed he needs to release some tension.”

“And what about you? You don’t need to release tension?”

She looked up at him with a little confused expression.

“What- No. I don’t need that.” Her cheeks were getting hot from the way he talked and from the way he was close. The elevator dinged her level of hotel room and she walked out quickly. George went after her in silence.

“Why are you not at party? Why are you here with me?” She turned on her heels, when she reached the door of her hotel room. George leaned against the wall as he looked at her.

“I just wanted to make sure you’re okay.”

“Look, George. I noticed. I noticed how you’re looking at me when you think that nobody’s looking.”

George scoffed looking to the side. “That’s not true.”

“Whatever. Good night.” She unlocked the door to her room but he grabbed her by her arm, she wasn’t even able to open the door and he was dragging her to the direction of his room.

“George- what-“

In a moment they were in his room, she was standing in the middle looking furious at him while he closed the door and looked at her with dark look. The room was soaked in his scent and it made her mind going crazy.

“You’re crazy.” She said to break the silence.

“I am. Into you.” With that words he closed the gap between them, kissing her. She gasped in shock, trying to push him away first, but then she melted into his touch deepening the kiss. It was a sign for him to pull her closer to him as his right hand went to her hair and his left hand rested on her back.

She pushed him away after a while and he just looked at her with desire in his eyes.

“This- we can’t- it’s wrong.” She stuttered while her hand trailed from his neck to his chest.

“I need you. And I’m not gonna stop until the moment I’ll have you.” He said his hand caressing her cheek while his thumbs brushed off her lower lip.

“Shit, George…” she whispered and continued to kiss him.

Next morning she woke up beside Frederik. Remembering what happened last night, she felt a pang in her chest. Taking a cold shower it felt slightly better, but when she looked over to the mirror her eyes went wide with horror. The way her body was bruised, it looked like someone attacked her. Luckily her neck was untouched, so she could put on her shirt and jeans and it looked good. When she walked out the bathroom, Fred was awake, totally hungover.

“Hey, babe. I’m so sorry for last night.” Fred started to speak while the confusion was overtaking him. She got to him as she hugged him tightly. He just relaxed into her arms with smile.

“It’s okay. But please don’t get this drunk again. You were a real mess when you arrived here.” she chuckled a little. It was sort of true. At night she was in the room for a ten minutes after her heated session with George, when Fred was drunkenly trying to get into their room. She only managed to get him to the bed because he was already sleeping.

“I don’t remember anything. I’m so sorry.” Fred just rested his head in the crook of her neck.

“Don’t worry about it, Freddie. But we need to get you in shape because today is a race day.” She laughed at his groan.

She knew that meeting George was inevitable. At least Carmen wasn’t there, so she wouldn’t be looking at her all day.

As they arrived at the paddock, Lando spotted them and joined them.

“So, Fred, you enjoyed yourself last night?”

“Ehm, yeah. Pretty much.”

Lando turned at her with curious look. “What about you? I saw you walking away rather early.”

“I was just so tired from that jet lag. I needed some sleep.” With that words they happened to meet George at the entrance of the garage.

“Hey, mate! We really ruined Fred last night, didn’t we?” Lando grinned at George while she looked at him with amused smile, thinking that he was also so wasted that he didn’t notice George being gone for the most of the evening.

“Yeah, we really did. You need to work on your stamina, Fred.” George chuckled as his eyes flicked at Grace for the brief moment.

“This man needs to get prepared for his business today, see you later.” she pushed Fred forward as she wasn’t in a mood to talk more. Fred just chuckled, getting his arm over her shoulder to move her closer to him.

George saw that little gesture and he felt extremely jealous, his mind was filled with the things he did with her last night.

Watching Fred from the VIP lounge, she enjoyed her alone time. Being in Montreal wasn’t the best idea and she now knew why. Looking over her watch, she really pushed time forward, longing to get back to London and get away from all the thoughts that filled her mind.

“I knew you’d be here.” It was George, now standing beside her, his race suit on along with his sunglasses, looking like he’s not giving single fuck about anything.

“Where else would I be?” She sighed with obvious smile.

“We need to talk about last night.”

“No we don’t. It was a mistake.”

“A mistake?”

“Wasn’t it? I have Fred and you have Carmen.”

“I just-“

“I don’t want to hurt him.”

George just nodded and walked away. Throughout the day, they avoided each other. Fred talked her into spending some more time in the Mercedes garage, to get to know who won the GP. George ended up second. She and Fred stood under the podium, everything was overwhelming so when George received the trophy, she felt her cheeks being wet. He locked his eyes with hers in soft gaze as he smiled like he always did at her. So nice, pretty and loving. It was moment only for them. Something that never was and never will be.

“Love, you’re crying.” Fred said with soft voice, trying to brush her tears off.

“It’s just a joy from all of this.” She grinned suppressing her heartbroken smile.

“You’re really into this with your whole heart.” Fred smiled as he pulled her into his arms. She looked up at George again, he was watching them his eyes filled with tears too, but everybody thought it was tears of happiness. She turned her head to the other side of the podium and it was the last look she took at George for a very long time.

———

Months passed and the racing season was nearing its end. From the Canada she didn’t attend any races or events saying that she’s under pressure of being a good girlfriend and she didn’t want to be at spotlight. Frederik respected it, but at first he found it hard to understand it. But they got used to it and she tried to make him believe that it eventually gets better over time.

It was November, everyone was getting prepared for Christmas. Frederik got on his plane to get to Brazil as she went shopping some presents. She really loved Christmas at London.

“I’m already on the plane, I’m excited guys. My first Brazil!” - Fred

“Is your beloved coming with you to see that too?” - Lewis

“No, she’s not well with the crowds still and she decided to decorate our flat for Christmas.” - Fred

George sat in the headquarters at Brackley eating his snack, while he read the group conversation with his teammates. As he turned his phone down he looked a little zoned out.

“Hey, George. It looks our flight is delayed because of the weather. We’re coming tomorrow night or maybe the day after.” His manager said to him with frown.

George looked up at him with a soft smile. “Actually it’s okay, I need to get something done.”

———

She felt pretty content with the atmosphere around her. With her bags on her shoulder, she walked to the café at the corner in front of the apartment complex she was living with Fred. Sitting next to the huge glass window she had a beautiful view to the Christmas tree on the square. Feeling the warmth of the mug with coffee in her hands, she was looking outside. Suddenly a figure walked around the window and she caught the glimpse of the man. He looked away but abruptly he looked back to her direction. It was George. She couldn’t stop staring, surprised to see him after that long time. He looked surprised too, but didn’t hesitate a second and he stepped inside the café, slowly approaching the table she was sitting at.

She stood from the chair still holding his gaze. He took a few quick steps towards her and he hugged her. His embrace was tight and warm, it felt like being home. She hugged him back getting him even closer to her, his scent filling her senses. For quite some time they just stood there, hugging each other. Then she pulled back from him looking into his eyes.

“Coffee?”

George only nodded as he sat across from her at the table. She got him a coffee and sat back to her chair.

“You’re supposed to be on your way to Brazil.”

“My flight was delayed. I’m coming tomorrow or day after. I don’t know still for sure.”

“How come you’re in London?”

“I was at Brackley, getting some preparations done.”

“That’s not London.”

“I saw in our group chat, that you’re not coming and that you’re staying here at home. Maybe I’m crazy, but I wanted to find you and talk to you. I can’t bear it anymore.”

He looked at her with desperation over his face. Her eyes softened at his confession.

“I’m sorry about you and Carmen. You were truly a power couple.”

“How can you look into Fred’s eyes? When I’m the one you love.”

“What… How can you tell who I love or not?”

“You’re avoiding me by not going to races. You shut down your socials and you’re not answering my texts. You’re clearly running away from something.”

“That’s not your business, George. Even if… even if there would be any possibility of us being together, how would I appear in the public eye, in the eyes of your teammates, supporting you instead of him? I don’t want to be a bitch.”

“And yet you’re still thinking about others and not about you. What do you want? What you truly and really want?”

She ran her hand through her hair, looking around, trying to avoid the answer to that question.

“I don’t want to talk about it. I’m not in mood for this. I want my peace. It’s gonna be Christmas for the god's sake!”

“What is that one thing you want? You don’t want peace, you don’t want perfect Christmas, you want passion, you want to be that girl at the tribune waving and screaming at her favourite drivers.”

“It’s not that-“

“Just say it!”

“You! I want you! Holy shit, George! I wanted you from the first time I laid my eyes on you a long time ago!”

She really said that loudly. Her hand went on her mouth as she was shocked by the strange flutter in her chest from that words.

George exhaled in relief, his frustrations fading away. Hearing her saying it shook his entire core. He wouldn’t even think that this woman would change his life to the point he’d be so desperate for her.

“What do we do now?”

“I don’t know.”

She invited him over to the flat she shared with Fred. She made dinner for them, they ate together and ended up watching some reality show at the TV. All of that filled with loving gazes, soft laughs and sweet touches. She was curled on the sofa her head in the George’s lap while she was watching TV and enjoying his hand caressing her hair. It felt so natural that they nearly forgot about the real world around them. Suddenly she rolled over on her back looking up at him. George looked down at her with questioning look.

“What?”

“Nothing. I could just look at you for my whole life and that wouldn’t be enough.”

He took her hand into his, bringing it to his lips and placing it on his cheek leaning into her palm. Feeling the warmth of her skin, he felt like he would do anything to not break this moment. He was falling deeper and deeper into the pool of love.

She prepared for him the towel and some oversized clothes she had herself in the bathroom as she was done with showering. George, like a gentleman he was, wanted to sleep on the couch at first but she denied that idea. She prepared the guest room for them, because she didn’t want for him to sleep in the bedroom she shared with Fred.

Waiting for George to come to bed, she was half asleep when he slipped under the covers.

“Just sleep, love. Enjoy our little universe, where it’s only us for tonight.” He whispered into her hair pulling her closer to him.

“Mhm… good night, George….” She said softly as she drifted off to sleep.

In the morning they were woken up by ringing of his phone. George groaned as he answered the call.

“…yeah?”

“Where are you? I got us an early plane, we need to get to the Heathrow in three hours.”

“That’s okay, I’ll be there on time.”

She stirred in her sleep, waking up to George smiling at her. It was sight for sore eyes and she smiled sleepily.

“Good morning. Sorry for waking you up, but my manager clearly have some trust issues with me.”

George kissed her forehead as she chuckled and hugged him tight humming into his chest.

“You need to get to Brazil, I know. I don’t want this moment to end.”

“One day, I’ll give you thousands of these moments…” he placed a kiss on the top of her head holding her close.

After quick breakfast, George was ready to go and it was time to say goodbye. They stood in the hallway of the flat, her hand brushing over his jacket with a sad smile.

“Be careful out there. And don’t forget that I’m watching you on the track. I’m with you even if I’m not.”

“I love you. I need to say it.”

“I love you too, George. I always had.”

Race weekend at Brazil went by and Fred was home by Sunday midnight. She spent whole weekend chatting with George over texts. She really didn’t know, how to handle the situation with Fred.

Sitting in the living room, Fred walked into the room, his face holding a strange expression.

“Hey, Freddie. How was your flight?” she smiled softly, slowly getting from the sofa to walk to him.

“Hey.. It was… it was good.” He answered quickly with a nervous smile.

She looked at him with confusion while he slightly backed away from her.

“What’s wrong with you, Fred?”

He ran a hand through his hair in slight frustration. He couldn’t even look into her eyes. She felt scared that he might know something, but she tried to stay calm.

“Talk to me, please.”

“I did something… I can’t even look at you right now.”

“Fred, what-“

She tried to grab his hand but he flinched away.

“I… we were at the party with the boys at Saturday and… there was this girl I… she’s test driver for Ferrari and I always had a crush on her and we talked and…”

“You slept with her.”

She said it so casually that it surprised her. Fred shot her a look with guilt.

“It’s not that I don’t love you, but… you’re so distant and I needed to feel… wanted.”

She nodded, deep down feeling the strange relief that she doesn’t need to get her own secret out to spotlight.

“Look, Fred… I thought about us a lot… I love you, but it’s not the same as it was. You’re great person, caring, loving and kind. But I feel stuck. I’m not myself. And I don’t want to hurt you by my distant behaviour, you deserve so much more.”

Fred looked at her with nod.

“You’re so kind. You also deserve so much more.” He hugged her. She relaxed into his arms feeling relieved inside.

“You’re gonna always be my friend. No matter what. Just go for that girl. If she’s your dream come true, make it reality. Because she’d make you happy.”

———

Within weeks they sold their apartment and started to live on their own. Fred was all over his feelings into that Ferrari girl, he was sharing it with his ex-girlfriend, because why not, she was happy for him.

Time flew by and another season of racing started.

Being at Bahrain was a first time for her. Same as being a girlfriend to the famous F1 driver.

Fred was supposed to be there with Elle, the Ferrari girl, and it was also her first appearance as a George’s girlfriend.

George parked the car near the entrance of the paddock. She exhaled shakily, trying to be calm.

“Are you alright, love?” He grabbed one of her hands, while she nodded with smile.

“I’m good, George.”

They entered the paddock and crowds went wild. Everybody wanted a photo with them, but George politely refused trying to make it to the garage quickly. She gave her smiles all around them, trying to be nice.

Lando met them near the garages and he froze in his tracks in shock.

“Holy fucking hell!”

Both of them looked at him with surprise. Lando walked closer to them crossing his arms on chest.

“How did you do it?”

She looked at him confused. “What?”

“Hide this!” Lando grabbed their intertwined hands.

“Eh-“

“No way! What a surp-“ Fred came out of the Mercedes garage with wide smile in a surprise to see her there, but when he saw how George was holding her hand, his face changed into shock.

“Surprise indeed. Hey, Fred.” she smiled kindly, giving him a side hug. Fred got out of his trance, looking at her and then back at George.

“You two- you are-“

Elle, the Ferrari girl, joined them as she heard Fred talking to someone. “Hi! We didn’t expect you here! What a nice surprise!”

George was confused about situation maybe more than Lando, whose jaw was dropped on the ground.

“Hey, Elle, yes, it’s a surprise. And yes, me and George are together, as a couple.” she chuckled at the absurdity of the moment.

“Hm… I understand now.” Fred said with smirk, which was something that took her aback.

“What are you talking about?”

“I noticed how you two were looking at each other. Now it makes sense.” Fred smiled genuinely.

She lifted her gaze at George with her loving gaze while George was already looking at her, absolutely mesmerised.

“I might get a diabetes from how sweet all of you are.” Lando said with laugh.

[cigsaftersuh]

૮ neighbor’s argument ྀིა .ᐟ

prev. 𐙚 next

ㅡ my forever only.

jaehyun lay on his side, propped up on one elbow, watching you as you curled into the blankets with a soft, tired smile. the warmth of the night light cast a gentle glow over the room, softening the sharp edges of everything that had happened earlier. his hand absentmindedly traced patterns on your arm, and for the first time that day, the weight of the world seemed to lift just a little.

“you know,” he started, his tone light but laced with curiosity, “i’ve been meaning to ask you about something.”

you turned your head toward him, raising a brow. “hm? what’s on your mind?”

he hesitated for a second, then grinned. “ten’s tweet. about, uh… the neighbor argument sounding good as hell. you wouldn’t happen to know what that’s about, would you?”

your cheeks flushed immediately, and you groaned, hiding your face in the pillow. “oh my god, of course he tweeted about that.”

“so you do know,” jaehyun teased, as he tugged the pillow from your hands, grinning mischievously as he plopped it under his head.

you groaned again, “i hate him.”

“c’mon, dandelion, you can’t just leave me hanging like that. spill. what’s the deal with his tweet?”

you sighed, already regretting ever letting ten into your house. “okay, so you remember how you, my mom, and my dad went to get breakfast without me?”

“yeah…” he drew the word out, narrowing his eyes. “wait, is this about those dramatic texts you sent your mom? something about hating me?”

your jaw dropped, and you smacked his arm. “how do you even know about that?!”

“she told me,” jaehyun said, laughing as he dodged another playful swat. “she said you were acting like a brat.”

“well, great,” you muttered, flopping back onto the bed. “i hate this family. all of you.”

“sure you do,” he teased, poking your side.

“debatable,” you quipped, crossing your arms.

jaehyun rolled his eyes fondly, leaning closer. “okay, so what exactly happened? you were texting your mom — what did you say?”

you groaned, already embarrassed. “i might’ve… threatened to cough on your breakfast.”

jaehyun’s laughter burst out of him, loud and uncontrollable. “oh my god! you’re unhinged.”

“i was joking!” you protested, smacking his arm again. “but my mom didn’t think it was funny. she gave me this whole speech about how i’m not a kid anymore and how i should ‘act like a proper wife.’ and then ten overheard her, and that’s why he tweeted about that.”

jaehyun’s laughter softened, his expression growing more thoughtful. “she really said that to you?”

“yeah,” you said quietly, fiddling with the edge of the blanket. “she made it sound like i was embarrassing her or something. like i’m not doing enough, even though i’m trying so hard.”

jaehyun’s teasing demeanor shifted completely. he reached for your hand, threading his fingers through yours. “dandelion,” he murmured, his voice soft but firm, “you’re doing more than enough. you don’t have to prove anything to anyone — not to your mom, not to me, not to anyone.”

your chest tightened at the sincerity in his tone. “i just… i feel like i’m always messing up. like i don’t know how to be what everyone expects me to be.”

jaehyun scoffed, shaking his head. “first of all, screw expectations. who cares what anyone thinks you’re supposed to be? you’re you, and that’s more than enough. honestly, you’re so good at this whole marriage thing, i feel like i’m the one struggling to keep up.”

you blinked at him, caught off guard. “what are you talking about? you’re literally perfect.”

he snorted, rolling onto his back dramatically. “oh, please. i accidentally left the laundry in the machine for, like, three days last week. and don’t even get me started on the whole grocery list fiasco. you’re the one holding this whole operation together.”

a laugh bubbled out of you despite yourself. “jae, forgetting to switch the laundry doesn’t mean you’re bad at being married.”

“exactly,” he shot back, rolling onto his side to face you again. “and teasing you about threatening to cough on my breakfast doesn’t mean you’re bad at it, either.”

you smiled, warmth blooming in your chest. “i guess.”

“not ‘i guess,’” he said, booping your nose. “it’s a fact. you’re amazing, and i’m lucky you even tolerate me.”

“you’re so annoying,” you grumbled, but the smile on your face gave you away.

“and yet,” he said, pulling you closer until your forehead rested against his, “you’re still married to me.”

“unfortunately,” you teased, earning an exaggerated gasp from him.

“take it back,” he said, poking your side again.

“make me,” you shot back, laughing.

he grinned, his arms tightening around you. “i’ll just smother you with love until you give in.”

“fine, fine!” you relented, still laughing. “you win. you’re the best husband ever.”

“and don’t you forget it,” he said, kissing the tip of your nose.

with love,

© cigsaftersuh

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