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zeroeightzeroone · 1 year ago

Text

lover of mine - bang chan

genre: angst, hurt/comfort

pairings: idol!bang chan x female reader

warnings: none

notes: if this looks familiar, it was originally posted to my secondary blog @zerothreetwentyfive so i'm republishing everything here on my main blog.

wc ~3k|moodboard

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ ｡｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:

"i'll never give you away, 'cause i've already made that mistake,

if my name never fell off your lips again, i know it'd be such a shame.

when i take a look at my life, and all of my crimes, you're the only thing that I think I got right."

lover of mine - 5 seconds of summer

you always thought that the next time chan would be making you cry would be at your wedding ceremony.

initially, you would try to hold in your tears, just enough so that you weren't full-on sobbing and ruining your makeup. eventually failing as the tears flow freely listening to the man tell you the moment he fell in love with you, the moment he knew he wanted to spend the rest of his life with you and the promises he vows to keep forever. chan's eyes would never leave yours as you exchanged vows; in that moment, only you and chan existed, the proclamation and celebration of your love were the only things that mattered.

instead, here you are crying over chan. sitting in the driver's seat of your car, sobbing over the man who once said he wanted to spend the rest of his life with you, now not wanting to fight for that future anymore.

…

"you're doing it again."

the sound of your best friend's voice snaps you out of your thoughts, attention now on the girl sitting across from you, "huh?"

she reaches over and places her hand on yours with a sympathetic smile on her face. no words are needed from her to make you realize what you were doing whilst zoning out; fiddling around with your ring finger. a habit you picked up after chan proposed, and a habit that hadn't changed even without the band on your finger; your fingers instinctively moving to spin and twist a non-existent ring.

"right," you clear your throat awkwardly.

your hands slipping out from under hers, sliding them under your thighs hoping that maybe sitting on your hands would work against the habit.

"how are you?"

the word 'lost' feels like an understatement. the word couldn't encapsulate even a quarter of your feelings.

you felt directionless, overwhelmed by the constant switch between emotions: anger, frustration, sadness, and denial, it left you exhausted. day by day, you only grew more emotionally drained, the desire to feel nothing only intensifying.

the mere thought of the dimpled man gave you whiplash, your heart and your head conflicting with each other and your feelings pulling you from one end to the other. you couldn't pinpoint exactly how you felt about him.

god, you wished that you didn't even think about him.

you wished that you weren't plagued by the thought of him at every waking moment. everything reminded you of him, everything brought you back to the memory of how easy it was for him to let you, the person he proclaimed to want to spend the rest of his life with, to watch them walk out the door, to just give up without a fight.

why couldn't it have been easy for you too? why couldn't you just let him go the way he did you? forget him like he meant absolutely nothing?

as much as you wished it was, you knew it wouldn't be easy to move on from chan.

your early adulthood started with chan, moving in with him almost a year and a half after you started dating. he became a part of your routine and you became part of his; there was a time when your day didn't feel complete without hearing a goodnight from him or getting that goodnight kiss. your lives were intertwined, and your future plans were intertwined.

you believed chan was your future. he made you believe that you would write the next chapters of your lives together, that you two would be side by side on the road to forever. you envisioned your future with chan, without him you've hit a crossroads, struggling to navigate where to go from here. you were scared.

scared to learn what the future holds for you, scared to take a step towards a future without him.

on top of all that came public attention.

the news about your breakup hadn't been confirmed by chan or jyp entertainment. regardless that didn't stop the speculations and rumours that came with the lack of seeing you and chan in public together, seeing you without your ring, and other proofs fans would dig up. the algorithm also working against you as whenever you refreshed social media, the first couple of posts would be news articles, headlines and what have you, discussing the speculations.

'did stray kids' bang chan and his long term girlfriend call it quits?'

'fans of stray kids speculate bang chan and his partner have called off the engagement'

'netizens react to alleged proofs that bang chan and long term girlfriend have split up'

'breaking: did stray kids' bang chan and girlfriend split up? here's why fans are wondering about the status of the long-term couple'

your comments were flooded with questions regarding the rumours, mourning fans hoping that they were baseless and haters congratulating you on setting the man free. you wondered why the news hadn't been spoken about by chan or any official representatives but the speculations drove you to log out of social media. the realization that one day the articles and headlines will change from 'speculations' to 'confirmations' the anticipation and anxiety driving you insane.

you look back up to your friend, your lips pursed together in a small smile as you reply:

"i'm fine."

…

"chan hyung!"

the boy pulls the pillow up and over his head, trying to block out the noises from outside the door. hoping that the longer he ignored, the realization that he wanted to be alone would sink in and everyone would leave him be. that hope was short-lived as the door swung open.

"chan hyung!" changbin calls from his spot at the door, "you need to eat something."

from where he's standing, changbin watches chan groan out a response from under the pillow, making no effort to get up and go eat something. changbin's eyes drift to the older boy's bedside table, a picture frame is lying face down (probably a photo of you), and sitting on top of the frame is a gold band with a large diamond: your engagement ring. the sight of the band sitting on chan's bedside table and not on your finger has a small frown adorning changbin's lips.

"hyung, i know it's hard but please. you need to take care of yourself too," the younger boy sighs, "locking yourself in your room won't do anyone good."

of course, it wasn't easy for them to see chan in such a state.

chan had always been the one putting up a strong front, walking around with his head up no matter the circumstances as the leader. but these past couple of weeks, whenever chan was out of the public eye he'd walk with his head down, dragging his feet, no words leaving him. almost like he's being forced to be anywhere outside of his bedroom.

the members in the other dorm were curious about their leader, wondering how he'd been holding up but chan stopped replying to the group chat. it got to the point where the members made a chat without chan, using that to ask jisung, changbin and hyunjin how the older one was doing.

for as long as you were in chan's life, you were also in the member's lives. the news of the breakup came as a shock to them as well. they were all curious as to how you were doing too, but were hesitant to ask you directly for fear of making things harder for you. you met all of them through chan, and seeing their names pop up on your phone may just be another reminder of your ex.

changbin's eyes are on chan as the older boy takes the pillow off his head, slowly sitting up on the bed, feet hitting the floor but making no move to stand up. instead he's slouched over, head in his hands and sighing.

"do you, uh…" chan's voice barely above a whisper, "do you think i made a mistake?"

changbin shuts the door behind him hearing chan's question, realizing right now his friend needed someone to talk to before, maybe, going to eat something.

leaning against the door, he replies, "what do you mean?"

"w– was proposing… a mistake?"

"do you feel like it was a mistake?"

chan shakes his head, "no."

"did you mean everything you said when you proposed?"

"yes."

"then it wasn't a mistake."

chan lifts his head out of his hands, head turning to the younger boy leaning at the door. even in the dim purple lighting of chan's room, changbin can see how glossy his eyes are, how the bags under his eyes have gotten more prominent since yesterday.

"was… was letting her go," chan's voice shaky, "a mistake?"

changbin pushes himself off the door, making his way to sit next to his hyung on the bed. a comforting hand moving to chan's back.

"that's a question only you can answer," changbin's lips are pursed to one side, a sympathetic look in his eyes as he continues, "did it feel like a mistake at the time?"

"i- i thought i was doing the right… thing," chan's voice pitches higher at the end, questioning his own answer, "when i came home, an–and saw the dinner table, full of food she made for us. when she told me everything she was feeling, the look i-in her eyes."

chan loves your eyes, it's by far his favourite thing about you.

looking into your eyes had him falling in love with you before he even knew it. looking into them made it feel as if he was looking into your soul, almost like your eyes could tell him what your words couldn't. chan's day would immediately be flipped upside down just at the sight of your eyes, a shitty day becoming the best day when he caught a glimpse of those radiant, warm pools of life, your eyes sparkling with a zest and excitement for life that sent a wave of comfort over him. whenever he looked at you, that glimmer of hope in your eyes made him feel like everything would be okay.

but that night, the look in your eyes that night is seared into chan's memory. haunting him whenever he closes his eyes, whenever his eyes fall on your ring sitting on his bedside table.

that night when you told him just how lonely you'd been feeling, how you felt like he was treating you like the help and not as his fiancé; those words knocked some sense into chan. the harsh reality glaring him down: he had been falling short in your relationship. he had been so blind to that fact for who knows how long, listening to you had chan wallowing in guilt.

at one point chan felt like he was a third person watching everything go down, but it felt like he was watching you and a whole different person. he wondered why he wasn't saying anything, why he couldn't move, why he couldn't feel anything other than guilt eating him alive.

when he looked into your eyes, that's when everything came crashing down.

the eyes that once gleamed up at him, washing a wave of comfort and reassurance through his body were boring into his own. the contrast had his blood running cold. the sight of your hollow and dull orbs gazing up at him, even the sources of light around you did nothing to bring back that sparkle. the way your eyes looked incredibly sunken in, tired, swimming with distress as they searched his. he wondered how he hadn't seen the change before.

a change that happened because of him. the light in your eyes is gone all thanks to him. he wanted to be the one to preserve and make sure your eyes light up for the rest of your life, but instead he's the reason you look defeated. he couldn't handle the guilt eating him up at the sight.

"i-i broke her," chan whispers, "you could see it in her eyes how my shortcomings, the ones i was too blind and stupid to notice… that broke her. i broke her."

changbin doesn't say anything.

"i thought it would be better for me to let her go… get her away from me who was sucking the life out of her," chan's hands run through his hair, "she deserves so much more than me."

the older boy cries. his thoughts, feelings, everything just clouded with you.

"hyung," changbin's tone is soft, feeling out the atmosphere, "don't you think that it's sucking the life out of her even more, to be away from you?"

this time chan is the one who doesn't say anything.

"she wanted you to stay, she wanted you to convince her to stay."

"convince me to stay… please."

"i'm sorry."

"yes. from what you told us the day after you broke up, she does deserve better."

changbin's words send a dagger to chan's heart.

"but don't you want to be the one she deserves?"

chan's head turns to look at changbin.

"you need to work to be better, to be the one y/n deserves. that's what she wants, she wants you hyung."

"… m-me?"

"she wouldn't have said yes to marrying you if she didn't want you for the rest of her life."

…

your plan for the day was to wake up around noon, order some takeout or ransack your best friend's freezer for some food (and ice cream), chill on the couch and watch some netflix. instead you're jolted awake, at ten in the morning, by pounding at the front door.

rolling your eyes in annoyance, stretching your arm out, feeling around before grasping a pillow and clutching it over your head, trying your hardest to block out the noises and fall asleep. hoping the longer you hold out, it will give off the illusion that no one's home and come back later. a couple moments pass, a sigh of relief falls from your lips when the knocking stops, allowing you to loosen your grip on the pillow around your head.

maybe the neighbours got annoyed and kicked whoever that was out.

at the silence, you roll onto your side and shift your body around to get comfortable in the mattress. another long breath leaving your lips once that optimal position to fall asleep in is found, closing your eyes and getting ready to be lulled back into dreamland.

now you think someone is fucking with you.

the knocking starts up again, for a second you thought you'd fallen asleep and the knocking was continuing in your dreams but no. sadly, you weren't lulled back into dreamland like you hoped, the pounding in your head making it apparent that this was indeed, reality.

on top of all the things happening in your life lately, being woken up by a stranger relentlessly hammering the life out of their fist on your– actually, your best friend's– door is the kicker to a great day. a whine leaving your lips as you roll out of bed, pouting as you trudge to the door of the guest bedroom and continue your trek down the hall, towards the front door.

sure, you wouldn't have minded if your best friend, the person who lives in this unit, was actually home to answer the door. alas, she's at work whilst you're here; straightening out your pyjamas and plastering the fakest smile on your lips whilst you undo the locks, twisting the doorknob and swinging the door open.

"hello, mis—"

your jaw drops. posture immediately straightening due to the wave of tension that rushes through your veins, your mind comes up with two options: hide behind the door or run. your heart begins to race in your chest, tears threatening to spill at any moment but your feet are cemented to the ground. any urge you had to run away and hide quickly depleting at the sight of the man in front of you, a bouquet of flowers in his hands.

"chan… wh-what are you doing here?"

there he is: the man of the hour.

in front of you, in the flesh. standing a couple inches away from you clad in his usual all-black attire. you're avoiding his gaze but can't seem to pry your eyes off the bouquet in the man's hold.

a medley of red and white roses, baby's breath peeking throughout the arrangement.

"i- i needed to see you," chan's voice comes out husky.

shifting awkwardly on your feet, you sigh, "how did you know i was here?"

"multiple calls to your best friend and a long speech," he uses his free hand to scratch at the back of his neck, a nervous smile on his lips.

'she's getting a long speech from me too.'

"okay, well…" you clear your throat, "you saw me so bye."

you go to shut the door but chan stumbles forward, holding it open as he stands in the doorframe. the gush of air from his sudden movements gives you a whiff of his cologne. that along with the closer proximity has a lump forming in your throat.

"w-wait, i wanted to talk too."

"y-you spoke and so did i so, bye," you choke out, trying to close the door again but to no avail as his body blocks your way, "please chan, what more do you want from me? don't make this harder for me."

chan reaches forward at the sight of a tear falling, wanting to wipe it away but you flinch away from his touch. your reaction has chan recoiling, he shifts awkwardly on his feet. you go to turn away from him.

"i made a mistake," he states, his words coming out rushed.

you gulp, angling your body towards the man again. this time your arms crossed over your chest, your gaze still falling away from his face. chan's throat clears when he realizes that you're not going to speak.

"that night, i shouldn't have let you go," he continues, "i should've told you, said something, said anything to convince you to stay… but… fuck. i- i was scared."

your eyes glance up at his face, only to look away just as quickly.

"you're probably thinking, of what?" chan runs a hand through his hair, "but listening to everything you said, everything that i was stupid, ignorant enough not to notice, all those things that i did– or, uh didn't do… that hurt you. it scared me to tell you i wanted you to stay."

your eyebrows furrow in frustration, this time your gaze stays on his face, making no move to wipe the tears running down your cheeks.

"listening to you, hearing how much i hurt you. i- i thought it would've been selfish of me to tell you to stay," chan's voice cracks, tears falling from his eyes as well, "i thought i would hurt you more if you stayed… that you didn't deserve that, y-you deserved so much more than me."

"god, chan.…" a bitter smile on your lips, "you saying nothing, letting me leave… a-and not fighting for me, for us! fuck… that hurt more than anything."

the memories of that night have your heart aching. whimpering as the tears continue to fall, the sight has chan's gradually getting heavier in his chest. he wants nothing but to pull you into his arms and to never let go.

"i know… i know. baby, i'm so sorry," chan's cheeks are soaked with tears but he makes no effort to wipe them away, "i'm so fucking sorry. i thought i was doing what was best for you, but i fucked up, i fucked up big time."

your eyes lock with chan's. glossy, tear-filled orbs gazing into each other, at that moment the tears only build until the both of you are crying a river in the hallway.

chan quite literally launches himself at you. throwing his arms around your body and pulling you into his chest. instinctively, your arms wrap around his torso, nuzzling your head into his shirt. bodies trembling and shaking as the both of you cry in each other's arms.

chan soaks up every single thing about this moment; the warmth of your body radiating onto him, your face nuzzled into his chest, the smell of your hair, the way your hands grip the back of his shirt, the feeling of your body pressed up against his. he isn't even sure that you'll take him back. regardless, he knows he wants to work his hardest to ensure he'll have you in his arms every day for the rest of his life.

in his arms, he holds the person who has been with him every step of the way and supported him day in and day out. the biggest mistakes chan ever made took place on that day: not convincing you to stay, not telling you how he loves you with his entire heart, and holding your engagement ring in his hand while he watched you walk out.

chan wants you to be so much more than just his past and present, he wants you to be his future, his forever. he's always wanted that but he failed at showing you, instead hurting you in ways he was completely ignorant of.

"i love you," chan cries, you can hear his heart racing in his chest, "i love you so much. if you let me, i'll work every single moment of every day to show you that. when i told you i wanted you for the rest of my life, i meant it. i mean it with my whole heart. i fucked up–majorly, but i swear to you! i swear i'll show you that i'm the one you deserve, that i can give you that life you deserve."

chan looks down at you, enveloped in his arms as your gaze naturally lifts to meet his eyes.

chan's heart skips a beat.

there it is.

that sparkle.

main masterlist

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flowerandblood · 9 months ago

Text

The Fall from the Heavens (34)

[ canon • Aemond x Strong • niece female ]

[ warnings: sex content, smut, angst, mention of killing a lot of people, catching others having sex ]

[ description: A cool distance turns into friendship and more when two children see that they can find refuge and understanding in each other. However, naïve dreams collide with the reality in which every event has consequences and what once could have been love becomes a dark, newly painful obsession. Angst, sexual tension, obsession, violence, madness, very dark Aemond. ]

The story in this series is an alternate reality from the oneshot Stay and love, leave and die, in which Aemond reads the letters his niece has sent to him over the years. They are the same characters and it shows what would have happened between them − I have changed the background story from their childhood slightly for the sake of the plot.

Characters & Series Moodboard Lady Strong Moodboard Aemond & Lady Strong Moodboard Aemond & Lady Strong Childhood

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

Next chapters: Masterlist

_____

It seemed to him that never before in his life had he felt such fury as he did that evening when an attempt was made to poison his wife. He ordered all the servants to assemble in the hall, and then watched as one by one they tasted the wine that had been prepared for the supper for his wife and their cousin.

Some of them began to sob, and some of them were clearly unaware of what was happening − however, he decided that he couldn't take any risks, and soon they were all lying on the ground, looking like terrifying monsters from nightmares.

Their eyes bulging and red, their mouths full of blood and foam, their skin at once purple and pale.

He ordered the guards to watch over his and his cousin's chambers throughout the night and to bring fruits and other things to eat that could not be poisoned.

They had to manage in this way until they questioned and found new servants, whom he was going to choose himself.

As he walked into his quarters, he saw Baela lying on his bed in the darkness, his wife snuggled into her, immersed in a restless sleep.

"− she just fell asleep −" She whispered, lifting herself to sit up, trying to do it quietly and slowly so as not to wake her.

He hummed under his breath at her words and nodded.

"− you may return to your chamber now − I have assigned you guards from King's Landing − they will watch over your safety all night −" He replied, wishing she would just leave them alone at last.

Baela stepped around him and left without another word.

He sighed heavily as he walked over to the bed and lay down beside her, pulling his eye patch off his eye beforehand, feeling the pain in his eye socket due to the stress − his heart squeezed as her body instantly clung to his, recognising him, her hands tightened on his leather tunic.

"− uncle −" She muttered, lifting the dreamy gaze of her eyes to him. He kissed the top of her head, stroking her hair with his palm, hushing her.

"− shhh, my love − sleep − no one will threaten you anymore −"

"− are they dead? −" She asked quietly, and he swallowed hard.

"− yes, my love −"

"− all of them? −"

"− yes −"

"− and what about Alys? −"

"− her life belongs to you −"

"− thank you −" She whispered tenderly.

He swallowed hard, feeling the anger and rage slowly begin to leave him, giving place to his horror and disbelief.

"− embrace me, Rhaenys −"

He sighed as her small arms embraced him tightly at the waist, her face snuggled into the hollow of his neck, her legs entwined with his. He sank his hand into her hair, drawing her close, feeling the scent of vanilla fill his lungs wonderfully.

His wife and his child were alive and safe in his arms.

"− how did you know? −" He asked quietly, although some part of him knew the answer.

"− she told me − she warned me again −"

He sighed heavily and kissed her forehead again, her body warm and familiar, his.

"− I could have lost you − you and the baby − I thought we were safe here − but I promise no one threatens you anymore − I will choose new servants myself −" He whispered and she nodded wordlessly, snuggling into him as if she wanted to melt into one with him.

His hand slid down her waist between them and stopped at her womb.

He thought he wanted to tell her.

He wanted her to know that whatever she brings out into this world, it would make him happy and grateful towards her.

"− I will love our offspring − even if a little girl with your dark hair is born − I will love her because she will be my beloved wife's gift to me and our kingdom −" He whispered, imagining in the back of his mind their daughter so similar to her with his violet eyes, smiling in the same wonderful way as her.

How could he not love her?

His niece's words snapped him out of his reverie.

"− I want to give you seven children − as many as there are gods −" She murmured, stroking his hand with hers. He involuntarily snorted at her words.

"− after this, will you stop letting me between your thighs? −" He asked lowly and heard her sigh.

He knew she was smiling.

"− I fear no force will stop my uncle from reaching for what he desires −" She cooed, lifting her head, meeting the amused look in his eye.

Little tease.

"Indeed."

He swallowed quietly, coming up with an idea that seemed mad to him at first.

What if they had both decided to stay in Harrenhal?

Then they would not be prisoners of any family, neither of them would feel threatened, stranded.

The fortress was theirs, they could do what they wanted with it − they could live in it.

He thought he wanted that for them.

Peace and quiet so she could carry his child in her womb in peace.

"Let us not return to King's Landing or Dragonstone." He whispered. "Let us stay in Harrenhal. Let us create our own legacy. Give birth to our child here. Neither of us will feel like prisoners then."

She blinked, completely taken aback by his words. She swallowed quietly, thinking hard, only to lift the warm gaze of her bright eyes to him again a moment later.

"Very well. It's my desire too." She said quietly and touched his cheek with her palm, running her fingers over his jaw. He closed his eye and let the air out loudly − a hiss broke from his lips as he grasped the place where the sapphire now glittered in his eye socket with his hand, feeling that piercing, burning pain in his skull again.

It felt like someone had hit his head with a hammer.

"− uncle? −" She muttered terrified, touching his shoulder, but he just shook his head.

"− it will pass − it always passes −"

"− is it your eye? − does it cause you pain? −" She asked tenderly, worried and concerned, her large eyes open wide in horror at his condition.

For a moment he felt that the pain had taken away his speech, so he just shook his head, letting her know that he just needed to rest for a while.

"− should I call the maester? −"

"− no −" He whispered with difficulty.

He lay down on his back, still keeping his hand over his eye, breathing deeply, reminding himself that this had always helped him.

He realised that since his niece had come back into his life the pains in his eye socket had stopped as if by magic − before, for eight years they had tormented him notoriously, most at times when he was angry or frightened.

It had been months since he had felt as much fear as he did that evening.

"− can I do anything to relieve you? −" She asked helplessly, sitting beside him, her hand stroking his shoulder reassuringly.

"− no − lie down beside me and embrace me − I need to calm down −" He muttered, and after a moment her body was already beside his, her head clinging to his chest where his heart was beating.

They lay like this in silence, not speaking for a long time, her fingers stroking his free hand lying on his stomach. He concentrated only on that − on her presence, on the warmth of her body, on her scent, on her touch, and he felt the pain become less and less stinging, fading further and further, relaxing his tense muscles.

They both finally fell asleep from exhaustion.

He spent the next few days selecting new servants. He had them brought from villages independent of Lord Strong, warning them that they were to be loyal only to him and his wife, on pain of losing their heads.

He ordered his guards to watch them closely and supervise how the food was prepared, lest someone tried to poison his wife or his cousin again.

Although impatient and concerned that Lord Strong had sunk to the ground, apart from that, he felt this relaxed and content for the first time in his life.

His wife was at his side of her own desire, free and thirsting for his presence.

He felt as he had when they were children − now she too sought his closeness, the touch of his hand, the embrace of his arms at the most ordinary, prosaic things she shared with him every day.

At night, too, she was able to show him how great her longing for his closeness was, even though she had him at her fingertips − although he took care of her devotedly in the evening, he could feel her fingers trailing over his face, immersed in a deep sleep.

He purred then, involuntarily cuddling her warm, soft body into his, entwined with his legs. His breath grew heavier, his senses sharpened as he felt her full, soft lips place tentative, gentle kisses on his chest, his cock pulsed and quivered as her fingers traveled up and down it in slow, steady strokes.

"− my wife can't fall asleep? −" He whispered in a hoarse voice, grasping her plushy thigh with his hand, putting it around his waist, pulling her closer to him. She squirmed as his free hand gave her an encouraging, short smack on her buttock, his sweet punishment for rousing him from the peaceful, deep sleep he had only experienced at her side.

He softened this aggressive gesture by seeking her lips in the darkness, joining her in a warm, lazy kiss full of their tongues and sticky moisture, sighing contentedly as her small, delicate hand clamped down on his root, squeezing and rubbing it skilfully so as not to cause him pain.

It took her embarrassingly little time to make him completely hard and ready to possess her − he could feel that his own wetness was already dripping from the thick, pink head of his erection, proof of how delighted he was that his own wife craved him so desperately.

Had another woman been lying next to him, he would have felt cornered and humiliated, as if she wanted to deliberately deprive him of control and dominate him − with her, however, with his tender friend, with his sweet wife, he felt at peace, desired and assured.

A murmur escaped his lips as her fingers guided his long erection against the heat between her thighs − they both sighed as he pushed against her puffy, leaking slit with a soft thrust of his hips, feeling his heart pounding like mad, already fully awake despite hardly opening his eyes.

Her little cunt offered him slight resistance at first, moist and tight − he opened her wide at the thickest part of her length, drawing a sweet, girlish cry of exertion from her lips, her fingers clenched on his back, her breasts, her hard nipples pressed against his bare, sweaty chest.

They were so close with each other.

"− shhh − there you go −" He whispered, thrusting deep between her swollen, fleshy walls pulsing with desire, welcoming him home, as usual wonderfully warm, making him feel safe.

Nowhere was he so comfortable, nowhere could he find a more wonderful refuge than deep inside her.

He didn't have the strength to pretend in front of her any longer, recognising also that there was no reason to do so − he allowed himself to be more vocal than usual, his panting and groans low and filled with relief.

His hand clamped down on her plump buttock, spreading her thighs wider, pounding into her delicate flesh with loud splats of her wetness and his seed that he had filled her with the evening before.

"− uncle − so good − make love to me −" She mumbled innocently as if in a dream, kissing again and again his chest, his neck, trailing her fingers along his back, waist and buttocks making a wonderful hot shiver run through him − his achingly swollen cock expressed his contentment at her closeness and treatments as it twitched hard inside her, her walls sucking it and clamping down on it greedily, soaking him wet.

"− f-fuck −" He breathed out and groaned low with pleasure as her puffy, wet lips clamped around his nipple, her tongue swirling around it making a wave of tickling pleasure run down his lower abdomen, causing him to quicken his pace, pressing his face to the hollow of her neck, clutching her fragrant flesh to his.

"− mghmm −" She whimpered as he tightened his fingers on her breast, wanting to feel, as he usually did for a moment before reaching his peak, how perfectly it fitted the shape of his hand, in response to what she was doing pressing and teasing her nipple with his thumb.

He didn't know when his niece was shaken by a wave of pleasure − her fleshy walls squeezing his soaked cock were enough to make his spend fill her again with his loud sigh of delight that left him speechless.

He kissed her forehead, feeling fulfilled and at peace, his heart and body filled with a wonderful, hot emotion, his affection for her, his devotion, his care, his eternal desire that could not be satisfied.

He knew she felt the same.

They both breathed loudly, trying to calm themselves, stroking their naked bodies, sweaty from the sudden exertion. He murmured lowly as he felt her palms travel up his buttocks and rise higher along his waist making him feel goosebumps.

If Maris Baratheon had touched him in this way, he would have felt discomfort − he would have thought that such behaviour was unworthy of a lady or wife, and he would have pushed her away, frustrated and discouraged.

Yet it was his childhood friend hands that stroked and caressed his body, it was her lips that roamed his bare flesh, giving him pleasure and a sense that she desired him as much as he desired her, that his scar and what had happened to his eye had never crossed him out in her eyes as neither her husband nor her lover.

This realisation, her care and the warmth of her embrace calmed him.

He fell asleep again with his face snuggled into her hair, her naked body pressed against his, his soft erection deep inside her.

It didn't bother her − on the contrary, he got the impression that it wasn't just about fulfilment. She, like him, enjoyed the feeling of him being deep inside her, of feeling him, of them being one flesh.

Woman and man couldn't have been more connected.

The following nights that he spent at her side were filled with their intimacy and peaceful, deep sleep. He only awoke in the morning, struggling to tear himself away from her, assuring her that he would soon return to her by placing warm, lingering kisses on her bare shoulders and neck, before getting up to attend to his duties.

After what had happened he sent Aegon a letter, and it took several days for his reply to reach Harrenhal. As it turned out, according to his suspicions, their grandfather was still acting behind their backs, and Aegon decided to put an end to it by locking him in his chamber, allowing only his most trusted servants and guards to approach him.

Several people carrying information out of the Red Keep, which was apparently then passed on to Larys, lost their heads, and their deaths were a warning to others.

It was Aegon Targaryen, not Otto Hightower, who was King.

For now.

Baela chose not to leave Harrenhal, horrified by what had happened, clearly wanting to watch over his wife − her presence frustrated him, but he couldn't underestimate her contribution to her safety all the more so when he had other things to attend to and wanted to make sure his niece or their child was in no danger.

"− it's slowly becoming visible −" She whispered to herself, stroking her belly. He looked up at her from over the parchments, snapped out of his reverie and hummed under his breath, extending his hand to her. True to her words, as she approached him and he placed his hand on her lower abdomen, he felt it swell, though it was barely noticeable.

"− indeed −" He murmured, for some reason clearly pleased. He leaned down and nestled his face into her belly, sighing heavily, her hands enclosing him in a tender embrace.

They both shuddered and pulled away from each other, hearing a roar in the skies. He stood up, walking over to the window, seeing a black blur approaching towards Harrenhal, gliding between the clouds, however, he was unable to recognise who it was.

Only after a while did he recognise the familiar silhouette and sighed heavily, looking at his wife resentfully, as if it was her fault that her older brother had decided to fly to Harrenhal.

He, his wife and Baela came out to meet him. Jace was visibly upset, as he jumped down from his saddle he quickly ran to his sister and locked her in his embrace.

"− are you hurt? − I arrived as soon as we received the message − our mother is terrified −"

"− I'm well, brother −" She whispered and stroked his back. He pressed his lips together and swallowed hard his jealousy at the sight, looking away, clenching his hands folded behind his back into fists.

"− how could you let this happen? −" He heard his enraged voice pointed in his direction and looked at him warningly, hitting the wall of his cheek with his tongue.

His wife intervened, seeing the look on his face.

"− Jace − that's enough − in my condition I can't be upset −" She said impatiently, using this argument every time she wanted to shut down a discussion that was uncomfortable for her.

Her brother swallowed hard and nodded, trying to control himself.

"− mother sends me to personally make sure you are not in danger here −" He said finally, Baela snorted at his words, clearly offended.

"− I am here and I informed you about what happened − don't you trust me? −" She asked angrily − Jace looked at her, embarrassed that he had only just remembered her presence.

He thought with disapproval that he somehow felt sorry for his cousin.

He, though eyeless and with a long scar on his face, was the only one for his wife.

It had always been that way and he knew no other feeling.

How humiliating must it have been when your future husband forgot you existed?

It was only when thinking about it that he reminded himself what he had seen a few days earlier and looked away, grinning mockingly.

He had left the fortress to meet his spies who had come across Larys Strong's trail − it turned out that he had been staying at one of the inns and then moved on to another place, paying everyone lavishly for their silence.

He felt he had him at his fingertips, that he would soon crush his head.

By the time he returned, it was late evening. Walking towards his chamber, he sighed heavily, running his hand over his face, tired and discouraged, comforting himself with the thought that his niece was waiting for him in bed, soft, warm and wet, that he would sink deep between her thighs and find relief in her loving arms.

He did not understand how married couples could sleep in separate chambers.

He would go mad if his wife spent her nights in quarters other than his.

He stopped, snapped out of his reverie by hearing sounds he knew well − he furrowed his brow, thinking with rage that some guard had just fucked a servant girl in an empty chamber, instead of doing his duty and keeping an eye on his wife's safety.

He burst in like a thunderstorm, the loud moans, panting and slapping of skin against skin continuing for a moment before Baela's eyes lying under the broad, muscular man found his in the darkness.

Something akin to a squeal of fear broke from her lips, her palms tightening on the man's back as he turned over his shoulder and turned pale at the sight of him.

"− Y-Your Grace − I −"

He turned, shocked, and walked away, looking over his shoulder, hearing them both curse under their breath and snorted, a mocking smirk on his face.

So that's what it looked like, he thought with amusement.

For some reason, what he saw made him feel better − his wife was already asleep when he walked into their chamber. He watched her peaceful face as he undressed and lay down on top of her, her eyelids parted and her body trembled all over in fear that someone had touched her.

"− shhh −" He whispered, pressing her naked body against the bed − he was delighted to see that, in an involuntary, natural response, her thighs spread wide before him, her fingers snuggling him close.

"− yes −" She mumbled, still half asleep, and he forced his way deep into her hot interior with one quiet, slow thrust of his hips.

She moaned and sighed beneath him, delighted that he was sliding into her without haste, clearly more focused on feeling her well than on experiencing fulfilment as quickly as possible.

He had long since learned what it meant to truly enjoy her body.

He thought as he threw her legs over his shoulders, as he leaned down and locked her breasts between his fingers, listening to the way his cock opened her sweet cunt with the loud clicks of her wetness, that he had something that neither Baela nor Jace had.

He loved and was loved.

That realisation spread through his body like a warm, wonderful wave, his lips, swollen with desire, joined hers, her fingers tightened in his hair. He quickened his pace, slamming into her with ever louder moans of pleasure, knowing exactly what he was doing to her and what was about to happen.

"− n-no − no, it's fresh bedding −" She mumbled, simultaneously trying to push him away while he pulled her to himself, her puffy nipples rubbing against his chest with each of his rough pushes.

"− why the fuck should I care −" He sneered, thrusting into her again and again with deep, sticky thrusts of his fat erection, feeling her moist, hot walls squeeze it with pleasure against her pleas.

Her response to his brutal thrusts was her helpless, girlish cry, her lips parted in despair knowing what was coming, her slick cunt beginning to leak from her moisture making him slam into her with loud, sticky splats each time.

"− ah − mghmm − u-uncle −" She mewled, digging her fingers into the skin of his shoulders, tilting her head back, letting go at last, allowing what he wanted to happen to happen.

"− thaaat's it, theere we go − that's my girl −" He breathed out, reaching his peak inside her just as he felt the wave of her moisture run down her buttocks along with her fulfillment.

"− u-uh − no − it's all wet now −" She mumbled out, panting heavily, unsatisfied and unhappy.

"− your husband will take pity on you and let you sleep on his dry part of the bed − hm? −" He muttered with a grin, her hand slapping his chest with regret mixed with amusement.

"− you do it on purpose −"

"− indeed −" He hummed and turned on his side with her, looking with a smirk of satisfaction at the large, colourless stain that had formed where her buttocks had previously lain, tightly covering their bodies with thick furs.

Neither she nor their child could get cold.

"− sleep −" He commanded and snuggled her face into his neck, sighing contentedly.

He thought back to that night, watching as Jace walked up to his betrothed and embraced her, which she reciprocated.

He thought, looking at them, that they were pathetic.

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climbthemountain2020 · 9 months ago

Text

Your Eyes Whisper Have We Met - Chapter 4

With a new moodboard since this evolved into a longfic!

Part 4/? | Ao3

As always, thanks to the loves of my life and best beta readers ever @witch-and-her-witcher and @cauldronblssd

Feyre could feel the warm breeze dancing over her skin before she even opened her eyes. The smells of flowers blooming in the air immediately tamped down when the rich scent of him filled her senses. That spicy bergamot reminded her of early mornings with dark tea and too much sugar.

When she opened her eyes, she found herself laying on her back in the soft, long grass near the lake, the ground cushioning her head as she squinted against the bright sky. Despite being under the shade of the willow, it was midday and the sun was gleaming while perfect, fluffy clouds floated lazily across the sky.

She turned to find Rhys there, also laying in the grass but with his feet the other direction, eyes closed and face directed towards the sky. Her cheek was nearly pressed to his, and a light smile danced across his lips when he felt her move.

She’d never seen him so vividly in these dreams, the details of his skin standing out brightly against the grassy backdrop. The light caught on his long, beautiful lashes, every one standing out as they brushed against his regal, high cheekbones. He was outstanding, so unbelievably handsome that she ached to paint him, to touch him. His smile broadened.

“Can you hear my thoughts?”

He didn’t open his eyes, but he did smile widely enough to show his sharp, white teeth. “Perhaps.”

Feyre scoffed, but couldn’t fight the joy she felt at being here with him. The temperature was so nice and the day was so gorgeous. This, even in its simplicity, was more than she’d ever hoped for. She had a nagging feeling that there was something she was supposed to tell him, but it stayed just outside her view, drifting away like smoke in the air.

“I used to dream of you, you know,” he said, his eyes still closed and face peaceful.

“Is that not what's happening now?”

He grinned again and her heart soared. “Smart ass.”

She couldn't help but laugh as she tracked a passing cloud; it was an ideal day for a swim. She wondered if Rhys liked to swim, if she could convince him to take a dip with her in the always-chilly water of the pond. She ached to feel the goosebumps prickle across his skin–

“I’d see you painting, see you with your sisters. I saw the many, many times you pranked the governess–”

“Hateful, cruel woman.” His laughter was like bells in the air.

“I saw the time you fell out of the elm tree and broke your ankle.” She remembered that too well, the pain still sharp in her mind if she thought about it too long. It had been one of the very few times in her life that she remembered seeing fear in Nesta’s eyes as she’d clumsily gathered Feyre, sobbing and panicked despite being nearly an adult, into her arms and ran to the manor.

How could Rhys have seen all this? Why did it seem so normal to her that he had?

“Seems like you have me at an unfair advantage then.” He turned to her, then, beautiful eyes nearly lavender beneath the brilliant sky.

“What do you want to know, Feyre?” She knew she could ask him anything, and he’d answer.

Did you mean what you said? Do you miss me like I miss you? Does your affection for me feel as strange and deep and permanent as mine? Could you love me?

But what came out instead was “Anything you'll tell me.”

He smiled as though he knew– of course he knew. He paused for a few moments, as though he was thinking it through. He let his eyes linger on hers, and she saw more emotions there than she had words for.

“I've been alive for a long time, Feyre. But I don't think I started living until I knew you were real.”

He’d answered the questions she hadn’t voiced, had said the words that her heart needed to hear anyway. Her eyes flicked to his lips.

“Feyre.” She watched them say her name, and she was moving forward before her mind caught up. As her lips touched his, warm and pillow-soft, she woke up, the room still a startling darkness around her.

She had woken with the echo of her own name ringing quietly in her ears, the press of his lips a phantom still on her own. She must have finally drifted off and dreamed of him.

Feyre had barely slept, judging by the time on the clock, though she hadn’t expected otherwise. Her nerves were all over the place, her body unable to stay still under the covers, suddenly rough and over-textured against her skin.

Her life would be something entirely different starting at daybreak–starting already–but she couldn’t bring herself to feel anything but excitement at the wide open future ahead. She was ready to take the journey into Prythian and begin to figure out how she might help Rhys, even if the mystery of it all unnerved her. She would miss her sisters, but not enough to keep her here. She loved them so much, but this was not a life meant for her. It was made for them, their tastes, their interests– she had always worn it like a too-tight skin, and she was more relieved than anything to be setting out for something new.

She had debated leaving a note for her sisters, then decided against it, then picked up the pen again.

Would it make it better or worse for them to hear from her in some small way? She worried if she didn’t, there would be search parties sent for her, assuming her kidnapped or worse. But she worried if she did, if she put the words to paper, it might break some of the delicate magic she was holding dear. Would it make it harder for them to know for certain she’d wanted to leave rather than stay here with them?

In the end, her conscience won out. She couldn’t leave her sisters in the dark to worry about her.

She kept the letter brief, making sure to emphasize that she was leaving of her own accord. There were things she wished to do and see that she could not while she remained here. She wished them all the love and joy and luck the world could give them, sealed the letter, and left it on her pillow for them to find.

Since she was meeting Vilja at daybreak, the sky was still the deep, comforting navy of night, the stars sparkling above as Feyre shut the doors to her balcony a final time. There was no reason to sneak down the trellis this early–even the staff wouldn’t be up at this hour, so she could simply walk out through the kitchens, climb the wall, grab her bag, and be off. She pulled her favorite cloak over her shoulders, a dark red velvet one that she'd found in the small village on one of her trips last winter. With a final look at the rooms she’d lived in all her life, Feyre carefully opened the old oak doors, slipped into the hall, and let them quietly click shut behind her.

She backed out into the darkened hallway, turning to make her way across the stone and marble when she ran into something–someone–with a rush of air as she fell on her ass.

She squinted in the dark, making out the flowing sleeves of the nightdresses Elain always wore, haloed in the low light by her mass of curls.

“Elain?” She hissed quietly into the darkness, relief washing over her that it hadn’t been Nesta she’d encountered in the hall.

“It’s so strange, Feyre. I keep having dreams…”

“What are you doing out of bed?” Her room was two doors down from Feyre’s, and Feyre wasn’t entirely sure how she hadn’t noticed her before running smack into her chest.

“The dreams…Do we know any men with hair the color of fire? An eye of burnished gold. Hm.”

Feyre got back to her feet, resting her hand on Elain’s arm. “What in the world are you talking about, Elain?”

Elain smiled almost vacantly and closed her eyes. “He smelled of apples in the sun.” Feyre just sighed and pulled lightly to lead Elain back to her room. Elain had always been a sleepwalker, and there wasn’t much to be done about it past getting her back to bed. Feyre jumped as the door to their right slammed open, nearly knocking her off her feet again.

Nesta stormed into the hall in a half done-up robe, rage in her tired eyes. “What’s all the noise at this ungodly hour?” She squinted her eyes, taking the two of them in. “Why are you both awake?” She demanded harshly. Feyre felt Elain jolt beneath her arm, Nesta’s sharp voice summoning her out of sleep.

Nesta’s keen eyes looked Feyre up and down. “Where are you going fully dressed before the sun is even up?”

There was no use hiding it from them. She might as well just tell them now that they were all here. She took a deep breath.

“I’m leaving.” She felt both sets of eyes settle on her, but she couldn't meet them as she spoke. “I left a letter for you both on my bed, but I am leaving this morning, and I don’t plan to return.” The words were soft in the buffered darkness of the hall. When she dared to look back up at them, she was met with their looks of concern, but not of surprise.

“Where will you go, Feyre?” Elain was the first to speak.

“I met someone, and he needs me. I cannot remain here while I know I could help him.”

“The man from the masquerade ball.” It was not a question, but Nesta did not speak it with malice either. Their eyes met. “I saw the way you looked at him. I’ve never seen you look at anyone that way.”

“How romantic,” Elain sighed while Feyre huffed in embarrassment. She never spoke to her sisters so openly.

“I always knew you weren’t meant for this place.” Nesta said it surely, but not unkindly. It did not have the sting of her taunts, but rather the solid determination once she’d made a decision and didn’t plan to change her mind. Feyre nodded, looking back and forth between them both.

“Be safe, Feyre.” Elain’s moved to embrace her, to Feyre’s shock. She couldn’t remember the last time they’d hugged each other, but she leaned into it. “We love you.” Feyre inhaled sharply when she felt Nesta join on the other side, her arm winding around Feyre’s back and pulling tightly.

“If you find your place out there, don’t come back here. We will be okay. Go find your place in the world, Feyre.” There was a flicker in her Nesta’s eyes as they pulled back then that Feyre might have mistaken for jealousy, but before she could fully note it, it was gone.

It was a better goodbye than she could have imagined, and she blinked her eyes against the tears stinging there. She held their words and the warmth of their embrace close to her chest, took a deep breath, and readied herself to go.

Feyre was not afraid of the woods in the dark–she knew the way.

The stars still glimmered above her, but she could see the beginnings of the pale rays of light starting to rise in the east. She could hear the movement of the creatures around her as she strode down the weathered forest path, but they avoided her. She knew they would be emerging from their dens and beginning their own morning foraging.

The walk invigorated her, her spirits already high after meeting with her sisters. She had not expected their support, and receiving it had lightened a weight she’d not even known was sitting on her heart.

As she came upon the outer edges of the town, she saw the bookshop in the distance and a pang went through her heart.

Vincent.

Even with the strange hour, Feyre was not surprised to find the lights in the small shop on and smoke steadily puffing out of the chimney. She had a few moments yet, so she decided to try the door. It opened easily despite the sign being flipped to “closed”, the familiar bell trilling above her as Vincent’s face popped up from behind the countertop, a broad, toothy grin filling his face as he took her in.

“Feyre, my dear! I wasn’t certain I would see you again. Come in, come in.” He waved her over.

She took a seat at the table closest to him, setting her bag down gently as he started putting a drink together. He always seemed to know what she wanted and needed on any given day, so she let him prepare her a special treat one last time.

“I had so hoped I would see you again.” He smiled at her over the machine, raising his voice a bit to combat the whirring sounds of the frother, the steam fogging his glasses. She inhaled deeply at the sweet tang of nutmeg, cinnamon, and ginger filling her nose. She knew what drink he was making, a rich drink with a spiced milk froth on top, and she loved it most of all.

“I would tell you what happened at Vilja’s, but I have a feeling you already know. That, and a great deal more than I could ever tell you.” She smiled at him, and the knowing smirk that spread across his face in response made her laugh. He poured the whip onto her coffee, twirling the cup to imprint details into the foam as he always did. He brought it over to her and took a seat, leaning back and sighing.

You already have all the resources you need. She did.

“You’ve always been different, Feyre. I had a good feeling. I just put some things in motion.” She looked down at the warm mug in her hands, finding three small stars in the foam, glancing up to find another conspiratorial look on Vincent’s face.

“What can you tell me?”

“A good deal more than Vilja, I would imagine.”

Vincent rose again to close the curtains around the shop as he continued to speak.

“As you know, long ago, there was a conflict between the humans and the fae. It culminated in a years-long uprising, and many lives were lost.” Feyre did know all about the war, ironically enough, almost entirely due to the books Vincent had hand-picked for her.

“The King of Hybern was a terrifying opponent, but no one was quite so terrifying as his general, Amarantha.” He lowered his voice to a whisper as he returned to the table, the chair creaking as he sat. “Jurian, the general of the human armies, knew the humans would not win without an advantage, so he threw all his efforts into seducing Amarantha’s sister, Clythia. And it worked; she fell deeply, irrevocably in love with him.”

“A fae?” Feyre couldn’t help her surprise.

“And a human. He bedded her, pretended to love her, got the information he needed about her and all the fae, and then killed her. Brutally.” The gasp from Feyre was audible. She knew in the war that the fae who fought for Hybern had been in the wrong, but the cruelty of what Jurian had done still stole the breath from her.

“Amarantha had bitten her tongue for her sister’s happiness, had let her choose her own course even if she disagreed because she loved her and wanted nothing more than to see her happy. So when Clythia was killed, not only was she plunged deeply into grief, she was furious.”

“But the war was won, wasn’t it?”

“Ah, Feyre, you’ve been doing your research!” He smiled at her, patting her hand across the table. “Yes, for centuries, the conflict was dormant, but Hybern and his circle were not. Amarantha never forgot, and she never forgave. She waited like the most patient of predators, inserting herself around Prythian and gaining the trust of the High Lords and their courts. She let that hatred and grief and cruelty simmer within her veins, and she became obsessed. Obsessed with revenge, with power, and with a young High Lord of Spring whose father she’d fought with in the war. It corrupted her, that obsession, and then, after garnering everyone’s trust, she decided she was done hiding.”

Vincent’s tone had changed, something sadder ringing hollow in it now. Feyre realized she hadn’t even sipped her coffee. She lifted the cooling mug, but even the rich spices tasted like ash on her tongue.

“Amarantha set up her rule in The Middle–remember the map I showed you?” Feyre nodded. “She modeled it after the Hewn City, the Court of Nightmares–that's in the Night Court. She created her own court of horrors Under the Mountain, and she lured the seven High Lord’s there under false pretenses and forcibly stole their powers, leaving them unable to fight back.”

“I didn’t know anyone was strong enough to take the High Lord’s powers?” She’d read about the High Lords and the different courts, the gifts of each. After she'd come in the previous night from the willow tree, she read up on them in one of her books from Vincent. Each High Lord in each court possessed a certain set of powers, handed down typically through generations in a family line. Feyre thought of the gifts Vilja had given her while she'd read, wondering how they’d manifest within her own body. How strong would they be contained within her human limitations?

There was shape shifting, freezing, fire, and even the terrifying ability to turn an entire army to mist. She shuddered at the thought. How could powers that intense possibly be stolen away?

“She took them through cunning, not through strength. She drugged them, declared herself the High Queen of Prythian, and they had no way to fight back.” Feyre felt mildly ill.

Was this who she was to fight for Rhys’ freedom? Was he one of the many fae whose High Lord had been trapped? Was he under this mountain, even now, as they spoke? What court did he belong to?

She realized how truly little she knew about this man, this male, that she was willing to risk so much for, but she couldn't quite explain it even to herself. Something about him compelled her. She grasped for the necklace.

Stars.

She'd bet he was of the Night Court, under that ruler who could turn people into a fine spray of mist and gore. Perhaps, if she freed them all, his High Lord would have mercy and allow her to live amongst them with Rhys. That is, if she even succeeded.

Her thoughts were interrupted by Vincent continuing on.

“Despite all of this, the High Lord of Spring, Tamlin, still refused her. He hadn’t been interested in her advances before, but once she’d displayed such horrid cruelty, he wanted nothing to do with her. He wasn't like his father, didn't favor owning human slaves, and he certainly didn't encourage her actions in Pryrhian. Naturally, this infuriated her even further, and she decided to entice the court of Spring there under the pretense of a party–a masquerade ball. She cursed them all, destined to wear their masks until Tamlin either gave in to her advances or otherwise completed an impossible task.”

“So that’s why Vilja…”

“Yes, she was a member of the Spring Court. She’d lived there for centuries, watched all of the history unfold in front of her, and then she fled once the curse ran across the land.”

“What exactly is the curse?”

“Since Tamlin refused to love her the way she wanted because of her cruelty against humans, she gave him five decades to find a human woman, one who hated the fae, and make her fall in love with him.”

Horrid. Cruel. Impossible.

Feyre wondered how, even with powers, she would ever be able to combat this sort of power - this sort of rage and vengeance.

“I assume he was not able to do so?” Vincent shook his head.

“Not yet, at least.” And a gripping terror moved through Feyre.

“I’m not…I’m surely not meant to–”

“No, no, Feyre.” Vincent sat up in his chair. “The Lord of Spring is not the one who you seek.” She could have slumped with relief, but then the confusion washed over her again.

“If I’m not the human to set them free, why go to all this trouble to help me get there?”

“I had a feeling when I met you that you might be special. You’ve done nothing but prove it to me since. Things have already been set in motion that cannot be stopped, and you will be instrumental in carrying out any possible future where everyone is free.”

Free. Rhys would be free.

A thought occurred to Feyre then, and she was shocked she hadn't thought it sooner. “How do you know so much about all this?”

“Things aren’t always as they seem, dear Feyre.” And in the briefest of moments, enough that it could have been a shift of the light, Vincent’s ears grew pointed. Feyre blinked hard once, again. And Vincent met her with a mischievous grin.

“This whole time?”

His smile was one of pride. “My Melusine refused to bow to that witch. She ran messages to the High Lords trapped within and the fae on the outside. I worried for her, of course. But she was a force. When the magic was lost, we were outside of our home, and when the wards fell, we could never re-enter. We made our home here, in the human lands, but my Mel made the most of her time. She saved countless lives before she…” He let his words drift off as he looked to the windows. “Before she was caught.”

“Is she trapped beneath the mountain too?” Vincent sighed and closed his eyes, and Feyre knew she was not.

“She was killed, just a few years after the curse fell over Spring. She was sneaking fae children out of Summer to go hide on the continent. The children made it to the boat, but she did not.”

There might as well have been a knife stabbed clear through Feyre’s heart.

“You remind me of her. She would have adored you.” The knife twisted. “You have a chance to save the one you love, your Rhysand.” She supposed she should have been shocked that Vincent knew his name, but she wasn’t.

She took both of Vincent’s weathered hands in her own. “I will not let you down. I will do everything I can to free them.” His eyes, blue as a summer sky after a storm, roved over her face, filled with hope and pride and affection, and it nearly bowled her over.

“We never had children of our own, but I think I would have been so proud if you were my daughter, Feyre. I am proud of you now. You will do great things in this world, and you’ll always have a little bookstore on the edge of the woods to come back to.”

The words broke open something, an almost audible crack racing through Feyre’s chest as he squeezed her hands. He looked out to the rapidly brightening sky, then back to her. “Time to go now, dear.”

The two stood from the table, and she followed his steps to the familiar front of the shop. She’d miss this, this normalcy she’d found for herself, but she was ready. He opened the door, took both her hands again, and turned to face her, the emotion nearly pouring from his eyes.

“Good luck, Feyre. Be strong, even when it seems impossible, and bring them home.” She leaned in to give him a quick kiss on the cheek.

“Goodbye, Vincent. And thank you.” When she straightened in the doorway, she could see Vilja on the edge of the woods nearby, looking every bit as though she belonged within the landscape like some strange yet lovely oil painting.

She turned to go and found Vincent lifting a hand in greeting to Vilja, who grinned like a banshee while waving emphatically back. Again, Feyre probably should have been surprised to find they were old friends, but she couldn’t find it within herself to muster the shock.

Instead, she took one step then another towards Vilja, towards the woods, towards her future.

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demetriandelibinaryboyfriends · 1 year ago

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@ckhalloween23

Here is my submission for the Week 2 prompt "Witches"--a preview from a new fic I'm working, Flower of Lemon and Feather of Shrike! I decided to do a deep dive into Yasmine's drastically OOC Season 4 behavior, and explore a scenario where its origin is...a bit more sinister than poor writing or repressed lesbianism aknskfnhdrf

This one isn't just for the YasMoon girlies, but in fact for all the girlies who thought Yasmine Nolastname was big boi screwed over in S4, and deserved better!!! Even the foulest of bitchy bullies don't deserve to be reduced to a trophy girlfriend and a prop for a male character's storyline, especially when said male character is a pretty garbage boyfriend when it comes right down to it </3 (More on that later!!!)

This one is also for the MoonPiper girlies, because god, were we fucked over too D: Also actually (mostly) canon compliant, except H*wkM**n never ever get back together and stay broken up forever and always amen peace and love on planet earth <3 <3 <3 <3

There's no world where I will acknowledge this stupid ship got undeadified like a horrendous, nonsensical, chemistry-devoid zombie when it had long since run its narrative course and played its role in both Eli and Moon's arcs can you tell awehakureyigsrf

This is Moon's POV and Yasmine and Moon-centric, but I left the shippier parts ambiguous since I wanted to make something that my non-shipper friends can enjoy too ^^; There are feelings on Moon's side but as far as I'm concerned that's basically canon lmao like did you SEE that girl in S4??? She was so thirsty for Blondie that I'm genuinely shocked the showrunners didn't tell Hannah Kepple to stop kanhdskufhd Definitely tried to leave Yasmine's feelings more up in the air, though! Interpret her however you like ^^

Fic preview under the cut! As always, moodboard pic credits available upon request!

***

The phone line cuts off, and Yasmine’s name disappears from the screen.

Moon curls into her pillow, erupting in ragged sobs. She can’t remember the last time she’s felt this helpless.

This entirely consumed by pure, raw emotion.

Her mind is a whirlpool, everything Yasmine spat at her twisting around and around and around. None of it seems real.

Because Moon can’t wrap around her head around meaning nothing to Yasmine. She can’t make sense of a world where she was only a pawn—someone for the repressed queen bee to “experiment” with. Someone to cater to Yasmine’s whims and fulfill her every desire and ask nothing in return.

Yasmine was everything to Moon. Moon was nothing to Yasmine. And how did that make any fucking sense?

Moon’s hands knot into the covers, a scream ripping from her throat. Somewhere amid the blinding torrent of heartbreak and rage, she finds herself tearing incense sticks from her drawers and lighting candles with shaking hands.

She always swore to herself she’d never touch the rear section of her spellbook, pages marked with a black tab. But if Yasmine can’t keep her promises, why should Moon?

Her chest burns as she recites the incantation.

“By flower of lemon and feather of shrike I bid you know what this pain is like”

“Maybe we could meet in the middle? Like a…sexual Venn diagram?”

Yasmine’s face twists in disgust. Moon only rolls her eyes.

She would tell Demetri to stop being a creep, but she knows he doesn’t mean it. Just playing the part he thinks he should after girls have started noticing him.

And Moon knows what it’s like to hide your authentic self to better fit a mold. She’s eternally thankful Piper taught her better.

“So what’s under the blanket?” she prompts.

As Demetri begins his demonstration, Yasmine’s expression shifts. “Not bad. My parents might not have to pay for an A this time.”

Moon can’t help feeling a bit surprised.

So Yasmine’s taking the “be a little nicer” advice to heart, at least. A hint of gratitude toward anyone is a first.

And then the soccer ball comes.

Her panic strips away her new cordiality. Moon knows exactly where her friend’s mind goes.

She’s about to be the ��dumb blonde” again—the vapid, useless pretty girl who always has to bribe her way to a pass. And it makes her feel so disgustingly helpless.

“Do you have another one?” A last-ditch attempt to save her grade without her family’s intervention.

As she watches the altercation play out, Moon could slice the tension between Hawk and Demetri with a knife. She’s never quite fancied herself an empath, but there’s something hauntingly familiar about the way Demetri’s entire body is trembling.

She sees herself, hunched up and bawling her eyes out. She sees the overpowering grief that tore free a side Moon didn’t even know she had.

Thank the gods nothing came of that episode.

When Sam arrives, Moon gives her a pleading look. Off she goes to rescue their big-mouthed friend, prepared to cut into Hawk with all the steel Moon could never quite work up.

“Are we gonna fail?”

The whisper in Moon’s ear is so lost. So broken.

Yasmine’s always been a mess. Moon supposes she should be flattered she’s one of the only people who’s ever gotten to see it.

“No.” She sighs. “Demetri’s smart. He’ll figure something out.”

“You’ll never guess what I saw yesterday.”

Sam leans over at the start of history class, smirk dancing across her lips.

“What?”

“Yasmine and Demetri are a thing.”

Moon knits her brow, confused.

“What’re you talking about?”

Sam sniggers. “I turned a corner in the hall and saw them making out, clear as day.”

Despite her best efforts, she can’t hide her alarm.

“Oh my god. Does she know he’s…?”

Demetri’s passes at Yasmine weren’t exactly genuine. Moon always thought Yas would be more intuitive about that sort of thing, especially considering the way she talked about Demetri when he first started hanging out with them.

“He’s what?”

“Um…never mind.”

It wasn’t Moon’s place to divulge Demetri’s business, especially when he hadn’t even figured it out himself. Or…didn’t want to admit certain things to himself, at least.

“Yasmine was pissed when Miguel and I caught them,” Sam goes on. “It was so funny. She insisted she’d never go out with him, but…you know. Unless you slipped me some LSD at lunch and I’m hallucinating, I have my doubts.”

She laughs again, clearly tickled pink by the whole thing. Moon only frowns.

“I’m so confused. All she’s ever done is complain about him.”

Her friend shrugs. “Denial’s not just a river in Egypt, I guess.”

“No, like. She thinks basically every single one of his interests is annoying. And she told me once that listening to him talk is like when you hit your brakes too fast and your whole car screeches.”

“Well, you know Yas. She thinks she’ll combust if she says something nice about anyone.”

“Right, but…” Moon narrows her eyes. “She’s picky as hell when it comes to dating. I, um…I would know. And Demetri’s the furthest possible thing from her type.”

“Opposites attract?”

“Not like that. I saw him try to explain basic particle physics to her one time and she nearly went to sleep. And that’s only the tip of the iceberg.”

“Maybe it’s just a physical thing. We both know how crazy hormones can be, right?”

Moon hopes for Yasmine’s sake that Sam is right. Otherwise…

Well, there’s probably no need to entertain that possibility.

“I love it when you talk nerdy.”

Moon’s so caught up in Yasmine’s sweeping, graceful movements that it takes a moment for the statement to sink in.

She always smiles when she watches her best friend. She can’t help it. Yasmine moves like a mountain waterfall—majestic and larger than life, all while flowing so seamlessly.

It isn’t until Yasmine lets Demetri pull her in, giggling like an elementary schooler, that Moon’s smile falls.

No, you don’t.

Because Moon knows Yasmine, and she knows she has a hatred for “nerd shit” that could rival Hawk at his worst.

She despises anything that makes her feel small. Unimportant. Insignificant.

Moon remembers the look on Yasmine’s face when Sam leaned away from their popular table, exchanging easy chemistry banter with Aisha. She remembers the dejected pout when lunchroom conversations turned to AP homework, Sam and Demetri so engrossed in what Yasmine called “stupid school garbage” that they forgot the blonde girl was even there.

Because as much as Yasmine makes out like she couldn’t care less about anything, she doesn’t like to be reminded that she isn’t book smart. That the math and science that come naturally to Sam and Aisha and Demetri and even Hawk don’t make a lick of sense to her.

Sure, Demetri’s knowledge was useful when it got Yas a good grade. But on its own?

It only reminds her how inadequate she feels. How inadequate Moon knows she’s always felt.

And it was good, in a way, that Aisha tearing Yasmine’s popularity asunder showed her that the world didn’t revolve around her. But Moon senses the deep hurt Yasmine still carries, seeing glimpses of the worlds she’ll never know how to be part of.

So when Yasmine says she loves Demetri’s “nerdspeak,” lust and desire rolling off her in waves, it feels like she was the victim of some Freaky Friday body swap.

People change. Of course they do.

But not like this. Not enough to forget their very sense of self.

“Save me a seat at lunch? Specifically…this one?”

The smack of Yasmine’s hand hitting Demetri’s asscheek reverberates through the hall. Moon has to laugh at the sheer absurdity.

Yasmine hasn’t lost her fire in some ways, at least.

And Demetri doesn’t seem to mind. Perhaps Moon’s assumption was wrong.

She and Yasmine head off to class, her friend fawning nonstop over her geeky boyfriend. Moon smiles and nods along, pushing down the unease swimming in her chest.

Moon picks up a whiff of Yasmine’s perfume, and realizes that it’s lemonflower.

Dragging Yasmine away from Demetri at the prom is like trying to bathe a cat.

Moon finally gets her alone after a few songs, suggesting they grab some punch for Demetri and the others. Yasmine eagerly agrees, her entire being lighting up at the thought of doing her boyfriend even a miniscule favor.

There’s something unsettling in the way it’s so mind-bogglingly different from the Yasmine of a few months ago, who would rather chug drain cleaner Heather Chandler style than revolve her entire being around the needs of some boy.

Maybe there’s a way to breach the subject without arousing suspicion.

“I can’t believe you flew all the way back from Australia.” Moon forces a laugh as she ladles punch into Yasmine’s cup. “I didn’t know you were that into him.”

“Oh, Moon!” Yasmine giggles, leaning her head on Moon’s shoulder. “I’m in love.”

She tries not to think about how soft Yasmine’s hair feels against her skin.

“And the dress, too!” Moon reminds herself that Yasmine is very happily spoken for. “You really went all out. It’s kind of cute how you’re embracing nerddom for him.”

Odd, but cute. That’s what Moon has to tell herself.

“You think he liked it?” Yasmine leaned back, twirling around. “It’s not too much, right? I don’t want to seem like I’m trying too hard to impress him. I know guys aren’t into that kind of thing.”

Moon has to laugh again.

“Since when do you care what guys like?”

“Since I found one worth caring about, obviously.”

She sighs, a faraway look in her gray-green eyes. Perhaps she really is in love.

It’s just that Moon always imagined love would feel deeper than this.

“I’m sure Demetri loved it,” Moon concedes. “He’s really happy you came back for him. I can tell.”

“Funny, when I first showed up, he and Hawk were huddled off in some corner brooding, like the idiots couldn’t just dance with each other if they wanted. Almost felt bad taking Hawk’s boyfriend away.”

She snickers, and Moon feels strange.

She decides to change the subject.

“It’s crazy. I mean, imagine what you would’ve said a year ago if I told you you’d be smitten with Demetri Alexopoulos at junior prom. I remember when we first started talking again, you must’ve bitched for twenty minutes about that time he hit on you at your birthday party.”

Yasmine’s silent for a moment.

“He was being a creep.” There’s a steely edge to her voice that wasn’t there before. “He says he’s been watching me from across the lunchroom and I’m supposed to be flattered by that?! Like, dude, who even are you? Why are you talking to me?”

Moon raises her eyebrows.

“A couple weeks ago in science you were gushing about how sweet the ‘admirer from afar’ thing was.”

“Did I?”

Yasmine scowls in disgust. Just underneath it, Moon could swear she picks up a streak of panic.

“Yeah! He kept blowing you kisses across the room, and you giggled so loud that Mrs. Elmes yelled at you, remember?”

“Oh, god. That’s embarrassing.”

She says it like it’s some undignified moment caught on camera at a party—tripping and spilling her drink on someone, or the like. An odd way to talk about a behavior she has more often than not these days.

“He’s still such a weirdo.” Moon wonders if she’s imagining the trace of the Old Yasmine’s scorn. “He’s so, like, awkward about it when he puts his hands on me to dance. Like he’s scared my weird girl body is gonna burn him like a hot plate or something. I mean, we’ve been dating for four months!”

Moon’s stomach squirms.

“Probably just doesn’t want to do anything you might not be comfortable with,” she says quickly.

“He could freaking ask.” Yasmine curls her lip. “But I don’t even think it’s that. He’s an uncoordinated mess. He can’t dance for shit, and I have to do all the work.”

“Hey, don’t be mean!” Moon elbows her gently. “All this stuff is new to him. He never had a girlfriend before you.”

“Yeah. And it shows. Half the time I can’t even tell if he’s like…enjoying himself, you know?”

Yasmine grunts, reaching up and itching the side of her head. The strobe lights catch on something falling from her hair.

Her expression abruptly shifts.

“Oh, my poor baby!” she gasps. “We’ve been leaving him hanging over there, haven’t we? I miss him already. Come on, I’m gonna cry if we miss the slow dance.”

And just like that, the disdain is gone. Yasmine bustles off, snatching her punch and sweeping back onto the dance floor.

Moon looks down at the table, and her eyes land on a gray feather.

A tiny thing, from a tiny, fierce little bird. Beak hooked, meant for killing and piercing like a raptor. Loud, screaming, crass. Unrefined. Ready to jump to violence at the slightest provocation, especially when it gave them an excuse to show off.

Everything Yasmine isn’t.

And, ironically, everything Demetri wants.

Moon’s gaze drifts back and forth between the dance floor—where Yasmine and Demetri have resumed their grinding—and the corner where Hawk stands alone. Hawk’s eyes don’t leave his best friend once.

And, every once in a while, Demetri looks back. Yasmine is none the wiser.

Moon stiffens, guilt trickling over her like hot wax before a hair removal. She downs the rest of her punch in one gulp before going outside and calling an Uber.

I’m such a fucking bitch.

Whatever Demetri and Yasmine get up to at the afterparty, she doesn’t want to be around for it.

“So how are things with Demetri?”

Moon keeps her tone light as they finish their food court tacos, but she sees the new charm bracelet around Yasmine’s wrist. And she knows damn well what that means.

“He’s so annoying.” Yasmine wastes no time diving into a rant. “He never fucking listens. I try to talk about stuff I care about or that I think is interesting, and he’s always acting distracted or changing the subject or whatever. I was telling him this cool thing I read online about the history of georgette skirts, and he didn’t ask a single follow-up question. I’ll bet the world’s shittiest sponge is better at retaining crap than him.”

“Sheesh.” Moon makes a face. “I’m sorry. Boys are the worst sometimes.”

“And that’s not even all.” Apparently Yasmine wasn’t finished. “Not ten minutes later, he’s rambling on and on about this blaster thing he unlocked in some video game. It was the verbal equivalent of having cement poured directly into my brain. And he has the nerve to call me boring?!”

“He did?” Moon scowls, genuinely peeved. “That’s so rude!”

Perhaps Demetri wasn’t as sweet and thoughtful as he always came across.

“Wouldn’t be the first time.” Yasmine frowns right back. “So he gets all snippy with me because he’s being a soggy paper towel of a human being and obviously I’m zoning out. He starts quizzing me on all the dumb bullshit he was blathering about, and I finally snap and tell him he’s boring me out of my fucking mind. And then he gives this whole speech about how at least he’s spending his free time learning strategy and problem-solving and hand-eye coordination, and all I’m doing is looking at clothes online.”

They walk over to the trash and throw out their taco wrappers. With both hands free, Yasmine’s free to gesture more fully and furiously.

“Girl, I got so mad that I called him an antisocial freak and told him he was damn lucky I ever gave him a shot. That was probably kind of messed up, but whatever. Sam doesn’t cut him down to size enough, so I have to pick up the slack. Anyways, I was storming out of the restaurant, but he did the following-and-groveling thing. And sure enough, we ended up at Kay again.”

Yasmine looks down at her bracelet-clogged arm, a forlorn expression swimming over her pretty features.

“I don’t know why I keep letting this happen.” She sighs. “It’s like trying to plug up a boat leak with fucking office tape.”

“Why don’t you break up with him?”

“I wish I could!” Moon’s caught off-guard by the genuine despair lacing Yasmine’s words. “I’ve rehearsed the speech a billion times. But…every time I’m around him, it’s like I’m hit with some kind of emotional tidal wave. And suddenly I can’t bear the thought of ending things.”

She looks so lost. So frantic. So helpless.

“I see him and all I can think about is how much I want him,” she goes on. “No room for anything else. I’ve never felt this way about anyone before, and it freaks me out.”

Once upon a time, Moon might have called that love. She knows better now.

She wants to reach across the table and take Yasmine’s hand. Reassure her that this is what overpowering teenage crushes are like. That of course your mind finds ways to make hormones and attraction centered around one person seem like the be-all end-all of everything. Hell, she remembers feeling that way about Hawk before she came down from the high and realized how incompatible they were.

But Moon doesn’t. She can’t.

“Something’s not right with me, Moon.” Yasmine’s voice is quiet and fragile—a tone Moon hasn’t heard for a long time. “Sometimes, I don’t—I don’t feel like myself. You remember that week you were in Cancun? I went to the mall with Sam and Demetri, and Sam was complimenting the lemon balm perfume I had on, but you know I never wear lemon-scented shit. Like what am I, a cleaning product?!”

Moon laughs, gladly taking Yasmine’s implicit offer to lighten the atmosphere.

That was one thing Moon always appreciated about her. She never passed up an opportunity to use snarky bluntness to make a joke out of something unpleasant.

It’s part of why her and Demetri’s connection hadn’t surprised Moon. At least not initially.

The strange thing was that their bond got as far as it did.

“At first I thought it was because something stuck to me when I walked through the perfume section of Macy’s,” Yasmine goes on. “But we all went through there, and I couldn’t smell any lemon shit on Sam and Demetri. Am I going crazy or what?”

Moon pushes away the sinking feeling in her chest.

“Maybe it’s Sam who’s imagining things.”

“That’s what I thought, too.” Yasmine’s voice grows terse with panic. “But then Demetri starts bragging about how I always wear the lemon perfume when I go out on dates with him. With the air of someone who, like, actually believes what they’re saying. And I don’t know what the fuck he’s talking about.”

“Like Demetri knows anything about perfumes. He probably got it mixed up with that bergamot one you like.”

Her reassurance doesn’t appear to work.

“Whatever,” Yasmine huffs. “Let’s talk about something else, yeah?”

Moon lets Demetri slip from the conversation, fading into mental oblivion as they leave the food court and head for H&M. Yasmine brightens almost immediately, losing herself gushing over cute pink dresses and fuzzy purple sweaters and champagne-tinted heels. The afternoon passes easily, sliding in and out of changing rooms and twirling and laughing in front of department store mirrors.

For a while, Moon can almost forget the overpowering fear emanating from her closest friend. She can almost forget feeling like the world’s cruelest sociopath.

When Moon knocks on the door to 44101 Portico Place for the first time in months, she’s only half expecting an answer.

It’s 5:00 on a Wednesday, so plenty of time for any after-school extracurriculars to finish up. But, of course, showing up anywhere unannounced always has the potential to go disastrously wrong.

Demetri helped her develop a healthy dose of pessimism. She isn’t sure whether to be grateful.

The door opens after only a couple minutes.

“Moonshine? What’s going on?”

Moon offers a strained smile. “Hey, Pipes.”

Piper frowns at her across the threshold, looking more concerned than angry. It makes Moon feel all the guiltier.

“Is everything okay?” Piper asks.

“Sorry to bother you. It’s—it’s about Yasmine. And you’re one of the only people I felt like I could ask.”

She winces at the flash of hurt in Piper’s face. Her ex leans on the doorframe, crossing her arms and cocking an eyebrow.

“Go on,” she says, tone resigned.

“So…” Moon takes a breath. “Remember when you said you couldn’t be with me until I figured my feelings for Yasmine out?”

“Yeah?”

“I…may have done some light spellcasting and accidentally hexed her into falling in love with a gay guy.”

Piper blinks a few times, taking a moment to process everything. Finally she groans, running a hand over her face.

“Jesus Christ, Moon. Come in—I’ll get us both some fucking edibles for this.”

Piper’s living room is exactly how Moon remembers it—cream-colored couches, tasteful wall décor, chic modern fireplace. A goofy, surfboard-shaped coffee table that Piper’s parents had once tried to sell at a yard sale, but little Piper screamed and cried and beat the ground with her fists until they relented to keeping her favorite piece of furniture.

Now, Moon props her sandaled feet up on a bar that runs underneath it. The metal is cold against her skin.

She tries to focus on that. Sensations in the here and now. Things immediate and tangible.

Not the abstract mess she’s caused.

Piper returns after a few minutes, placing a glass of carrot ginger lemonade and a small gummy on a coaster. Moon picks up the gummy, tentatively taking a nibble.

Piper chuckles. “Don’t worry, it’s not that many mils. I don’t want us to be totally baked.”

Moon takes a more generous bite.

“So.” Piper sits next to her and takes a sip of her own concoction—some kind of purplish whey smoothie. “What did you do?”

Moon gathers her thoughts, working through how best to phrase it.

“You remember when we first met?”

“Sure.” Piper smiles thinly. “Our parents dragged us to that dumb gala, and I found you sobbing your eyes out in the bathroom because your ex-best-friend threw you out like you were nothing. And then I went on to find you have a terrible habit of swooning over the world’s most horrendous shitbags.”

She lets out a small laugh. “I guess so, huh?”

Piper rolls her eyes. “I told you. Over and over and over.”

“I know, I know.” Moon sighs, wearily admitting defeat. “About a week before that party, Yasmine and I had a phone call. And she just…cut into me. Said so many awful things. And I get it. I mean, her sweet sixteen got ruined and then as like…icing on the cake, I ditched her for the people she hated. But I don’t think anyone’s ever broken me down like that before.”

Piper tosses a comforting arm around her shoulder. For a moment, they’re back on tile floors under harsh fluorescent lighting, puffing blunts and snickering about fake people.

“I know,” Piper says softly. “And when I found you, you were still pretty shaken from it. I hope I helped.”

Despite herself, Moon leans into her.

“You helped more than you know.”

“Clearly not enough to stop you from going out and doing some sort of supernatural fuckery.”

Moon laughs softly. “That’s the thing, though. I think it was already too late.”

“What do you mean?”

She takes a breath.

“That night, after Yasmine hung up on me…I don’t know. It felt like my whole life shattered. I guess in a moment of weakness, I pulled out my spellbook.”

Piper narrows her eyes. “You said you only ever used that thing to ‘cleanse the house of bad energy’ or whatever. Or give yourself good luck charms on tests. Not—”

“—cursing people, I know,” Moon finishes. “I was so upset that I wasn’t thinking straight. I recited this whole incantation that was supposed to make Yasmine know how it felt to want someone who would never want her back. And, um…I guess the love gods interpreted that as her getting down bad for a guy who doesn’t even like women.”

“Wait. Isn’t that the same guy who did an MTV-style roast of your weird ex that one time?”

Moon sighs wearily. “That’s Demetri all right.”

“I knew it.” Piper pounds her fist into the couch triumphantly. “Of course he’s gay. Straight dudes don’t pull that kind of petty shit.”

“He’s not exactly subtle, is he?”

“Nope.”

It’s Piper’s turn to sigh, eyeing Moon with an almost pitying look.

“Are you sure Yasmine doesn’t genuinely like him, and just has a shit gaydar? Or she’s really deep in denial? I know I’ve pined after my fair share of straight girls.”

Moon shakes her head. “I second-guessed myself for a long while. Thought maybe I was wrong about Demetri. Or maybe Yasmine had changed so much that she really is into the whole geek shtick now. But…”

She takes a long sip of her carrot ginger lemonade, hoping the intense flavor will somehow give her strength.

“She acts like an entirely different person whenever we’re with him. And…not really in a good ‘he makes her want to be better’ type of way. More like she’s forgotten everything she likes and every aspect of her being that isn’t related to her boyfriend.”

Piper stares at an abstract, avant-garde wall painting, deep in thought.

“Maybe she’s, like, stuck in a codependence loop,” she says. “You said she was pretty clingy with you freshman and sophomore year, right?”

“That was different, though. She acted one way alone with me and one way out in public, sure. But it made sense. Whenever we see Demetri, it’s like Yasmine’s being mind-controlled by one of those thirsty freshmen who think Demetri’s the hottest guy in school because he won a karate fight one time. Then as soon as I get Yas alone, she doesn’t seem to remember half of what she said or did. And when I fill her in, she gets super embarrassed. Not that Yas can’t put on a façade if she needs, but…why would she intentionally make an idiot of herself if she’s gonna be mortified an hour later? She’s not impulsive like that.”

Piper shrugs. “Hormones make people act stupid. I did some truly absurd shit the first time I was trying to get chicks to notice me.”

“Hormones don’t make you go into a weird trance that your brain bleaches right after. People only wish that happened.”

“Maybe Yasmine’s lucky enough to have a brain that can bleach on command,” says Piper cheekily. “Or maybe she’s way too proud to admit she’s being dumb over a boy, so she tries to like…will it out of existence through not acknowledging it.”

“It’s not just about the embarrassment, though.” Moon sucks in her breath. “Every time she realizes about the memory gaps, she’s scared. Like she knows something’s wrong with her.”

Piper groans, leaning back against the couch and sprawling her arms across a cushion. “Can we prove she’s not being a diva? Leave it to Yasmine to make a fucking ocean’s worth of fuss about the same teen angst literally everyone deals with.”

Moon winces at the scorn in Piper’s voice.

It really is a shitty move, asking her ex-girlfriend for help with a girl she knows Piper can’t stand. That Piper has a damn good reason to hate. Assuming the worst about Yasmine’s romance troubles is only fair.

But what other choice did Moon have? It’s not like her scientifically-minded friends, with their AP classes and their blocked chakras, would believe her about a magic spell gone awry.

“She starts smelling like the spell components whenever she’s near Demetri,” Moon says flatly. “And a couple of them came out of her hair. It’s not stuff she’d ever wear otherwise.”

Piper sits back up, suddenly fully alert with her arms crossed.

“You could have led with that.”

“I thought the weird, erratic behavior was more important!”

“As if I’d have a hard time believing that girl would have mood swings.” Piper’s grimace falters slightly as she rolls her eyes. “Like. Moonshine, that’s your type.”

“Shut up!”

Moon swats her. Piper chuckles briefly before her expression grows pained again.

She processes everything for a moment, groaning again and putting her face in her hand.

“Christ, girl,” she mumbles. “If this is real…yeah, that’s a pretty big fuckup. I’m not the biggest Yasmine fan, but yeesh.”

“I know.” Moon makes a face. “Trust me, I never meant to mess with her mind like that, but—”

“—you were hurting so much that you did anyway.”

“…more or less. I think, deep down, I didn’t believe anything would happen. It was to make me feel better in the moment.”

“Yeah, I know you.” Piper looks up, offering her a small smile. “I think you’d have an easier time permanently giving up smoothies than intentionally hurting someone.”

“I just feel so awful!” Moon wails, guilt bubbling up and erupting out of her like a volcano. “I know Yasmine hasn’t been the best person, but she should be able to at least choose who she loves. Even if that’s never going to be me.”

“So…did you come here so I could make you feel better?” Piper scrutinizes her. “Because I won’t lie—I’m kind of at a loss right now.”

“I don’t know.” Moon sighs again. “I came here because you’re the only person I trust who I figured would like…entertain this whole thing. Anyone else would call me crazy.”

Because at the end of the day, Piper may be rough-edged and butch and intimidating, but she’s open-minded. She’s willing to hear anyone’s point of view, and tries to embrace every walk of life. And she’s never one to dismiss possibilities outright, no matter how absurd they sound. No matter how “weird” the people saying them are.

It’s part of what initially drew the two of them together. Well…that and acai bowls.

“Right. So you want solutions.”

It’s almost embarrassing how fast Piper deduces it.

“That…that would be great.”

Piper takes a long sip of her health smoothie, slurps echoing around the room.

“Seems like a proximity thing. You said she acts more lucid when she’s away from Demetri, right?”

“Right.”

“So make plans to hang out, get her alone, and snap her out of it.”

Moon bites her lip. “I’m, uh…not sure how.”

“Demetri makes her act like she’s not herself, so…” Piper shrugs. “Remind her who she really is.”

Moon chuckles hollowly.

“That’s the other thing. I don’t entirely dislike the person she’s become thanks to the…Demetri thing. She’s a lot nicer, for one. And less judgmental.”

Piper seems to be holding back laughter.

“So…you want Yasmine to be her true self and get her free will back and all, but you’re worried that when she does…she’ll be someone you and everyone else will personally find less palatable?”

Moon glowers at her. “Well, when you say it like that, it sounds bad!”

A snicker finally worms its way out.

“Yeah, because it’s an incredibly shady thing to say.”

“You know that’s not what I meant.” Moon huffs. “Look, isn’t there some way to undo the spell without undoing her growth? Because like…in a weird way, I feel like she has grown as a person since she got magicked into being obsessed with Demetri. Is that bad?”

“Not necessarily, but you’re being awfully picky for someone who doesn’t even know if or how they can reverse their own paranormal fuck-up.”

“I thought you might know of a way to do some kind of partial reversal. Make her stop being crazy about Demetri, but keep some of the good ways she’s changed?”

“Sooooo.” Piper slurps more of her smoothie, expression growing insufferably smug. “Considering that fucking around with the nuance of this already-opaque-sounding spell is an objectively terrible idea…the way I see it, you have two options. You can break the spell and let Yasmine be whoever she wants, even if it’s someone who kind of sucks. Or you can leave her to be this weird enigmatic love curse’s braindead meat puppet for the rest of her days—with the perk that she’s more pleasant to be around. So what’s it gonna be, Moonshine?”

“But surely there’s some way to—”

“Uh-uh.” Piper cuts her off. “Look, I don’t know any more about this stuff than you do, but I doubt we’re talking about a spectrum here. Can’t have your cake and eat it too and all that. Either we lift the curse, or we don’t, so…what do you want to do?”

After a long moment, Moon sighs.

“I want Yasmine to be free.”

“So you need to do what I said. Remind her who she really is.”

“Even if…‘who she really is’ turns out to be mean and self-centered and kind of awful?”

“Eeyup. That’s Yasmine. Take her or leave her.”

“Even if it undoes all her personal growth from the last year?”

“That’s the conundrum, isn’t it?” Piper leans nonchalantly against the back of the couch, arm on the headboard. “We don’t know how much of that was the spell, and how much was the real Yasmine wanting to improve herself. So we gotta let the real Yasmine out and hope for the best, yeah?”

Moon looks down at her lap and smiles, shaking her head. “People won’t be too thrilled to have her back.”

“Then that’s going to be her problem, not yours. If you’re such a bitch that you need magic intervention to make you tolerable, then maybe you deserve to lose all your friends.”

It sounds harsh, but Moon can’t argue.

“Hey, c’mon.” Piper scoots over, playfully nudging Moon’s side. “I know how much you cared about her. That’s why it felt like your world was ending when she cut you off. And why you were still hung up on her while we were together. So there must’ve been something in there you thought was worth fighting for.”

And of course there was.

Because this was Yasmine. The same Yasmine who danced like a dork and smiled with dimples as soon as no one was watching. The same Yasmine who yanked Moon into every single one of her snapchat stories, no matter how mundane. The same Yasmine who didn’t think twice about defending Moon’s honor when she thought Sam was talking shit, and told Sam to get the hell out of Moon’s Benz.

The same Yasmine who talked about her and Moon as a single intertwined unit. Unfathomable to her as something that would ever split, until that fateful night on the beach. The same Yasmine who trusted that wherever one of them went, the other would follow.

Sure, there was plenty about her that was cruel and vindictive and conceited. And she’d spent her time at West Valley High so drunk on her own power that she kept digging herself a deeper and deeper grave, earning the hatred of most of her classmates. Good looks could only got you so far when you leaked poison and bile from every pore in your body.

But who is Moon to decide which traits Yasmine gets to keep, and which are magicked away? Who is Moon to remold Yasmine into a watered-down, docile amalgamation of what had once been her assets, when not so long ago, Moon fell in love with the entire picture?

And now Yasmine’s a hollowed-out shell of a person, all empty smiles and lifeless giggles. A painting cobbled together by some computer program—beautiful and polished and splendid on the surface, but a closer look reveals the details are all off.

A closer look reveals something without a soul, no light behind those sharp gray-green eyes.

“Fuck,” Moon says miserably, head sliding into her hands. “I want my best friend back.”

“So go get her back, then.” Piper nudges her again. “And maybe go easy on the evil curses this time? I don’t know, just a suggestion.”

“Oh, stop.” Moon scoffs, but there’s no real venom in it.

Piper rolls her eyes, although not unfondly.

“I wish I’d known you back then.” She laughs, shaking her head. “I could’ve told you from the jump that fucking with the occult was a bad idea. Yes, even when a girl breaks your heart. Which, in my opinion, is the highest and most profound type of pain.”

“Naturally.”

Moon sighs wearily, smile fading.

“I don’t know if anyone could’ve stopped me, honestly. When she—when she broke what we had, it was like I’d fallen into some rushing river and I could barely keep my head up. And I was headed right for one of those tall waterfalls with sharp rocks at the bottom from adventure movies. For whatever reason, lashing out felt like the only way to get a breath of air.”

Piper hums thoughtfully.

“I will say that this all makes me feel better about how I reacted the first time someone rejected me. I liked this girl Lila in the sixth grade, and when she found out, she called me a fat ugly dyke in front of all her friends. So I filled her locker with sweaty gym clothes.”

Moon wrinkles her nose as Piper cackles. “Ew, Pipes! You’re disgusting!”

“Okay, but I don’t summon Satan to make my crush want to fuck a gay guy senseless.”

“I did not summon Satan—”

“Sorry, Satan’s right-hand man Joe the Sexual Orientation Confuser.”

“Imagine if there were demons that actually did that.” The concept is admittedly intriguing. “They get sent up from the underworld or wherever solely to make cosmically cursed straights fall in love with cosmically cursed gays. And cosmically cursed gays fall in love with cosmically cursed straights.”

“Shit.” Piper grimaces again. “Wonder what I did to piss Joe off.”

“You’ve really liked that many straight girls?” Moon has to giggle.

“You have no idea,” Piper mumbles. “And trust me—your ex wasn’t the first guy to assume I played for the other team.”

“Not sure his heart was in that one. I think he wanted get a rise out of me, honestly. No offense.”

“Oh my god. The sheer irony.”

“He really thought I’d get jealous of my own girlfriend. As if there’s any girl I’d care about my unserious two-month fling hitting on.”

And then they’re both laughing, swaying on the couch and clutching at one another to keep from toppling over.

“Hi, I’m your run-of-the-mill punk poser and I think I get more ass than a proctologist!” Piper grabs the couch arm, attempting to do dramatic poses as she talks. “I know you’re frantic to have me back, even though my only skills are yelling and punching my friends for no reason!”

“Stoooop.” Despite herself, Moon only laughs harder. It’s probably just the edible finally kicking in. “You’re so rude!”

“Like your ex even knows how not to be an inappropriate, boundary-crossing weirdo.”

“He’s getting better!”

“Because he’s finally learning after his 7th attempt that asking a girl you just met to fondle your gelled-up hairdo isn’t going to wield results.”

“He wouldn’t—”

“He totally would, though!”

Moon snickers, shaking her head.

“Fine, yeah. He would.”

As the laughter dies down, Piper’s phone buzzes. She picks it up, frowning as she reads a text on her home screen.

“Hey, I gotta run soon. One of the kids from the dojo is hosting pizza night.”

“Oh, right. How’s that going?”

It’s amusing, really, how easy it is to forget Piper’s in Cobra Kai now. If the dojo’s truly the all-powerful, all-corrupting force Eli claims, then Moon’s ex-girlfriend must be entirely immune. Even if she and Piper haven’t spoken in a while, Moon hasn’t seen any evidence whatsoever of Piper caving to some kind of deeply-buried inner asshole.

Not that it was buried too deep, in Eli’s case.

“It’s fun. Good exercise during the gymnastics off-season.” Piper shrugs. “Some of the people in my class take it way too seriously, though. Like it’s high school karate, not the fucking Cuban missile crisis!”

“Yeah, that’s what I’ve heard.” Moon makes a face. “I was…kind of worried for you when I heard you joined. They treat it like a cult.”

“Oh, please.” Piper scoffs. “Like I’d ever buy into those sorts of stupid dramatics. I mean, don’t get me wrong—it can be fun to spar with people who’re so intense about it that they act like their fucking life is on the line. Makes things interesting. But I’m mostly there for the free shit.”

“Really?” Moon cocks an eyebrow. “You always seem so excited on your snapchats.”

“Yeah, like, it’s good energy. Everyone’s super passionate. But it gets to be a little much sometimes, you know? The senseis treat it like this huge life-or-death thing. Like sure, placing in a global tournament would be cool, but it’s not that big a deal? And sometimes I wonder how much my teammates are actually, like, enjoying themselves, and how much they’re stressing over nothing.” Piper purses her lips disdainfully. “Honestly? I’m going to rack up as much free equipment as I can, and then I’m gonna ditch them for Topanga or something. They seem way more chill.”

“Are you sure that’s a good idea?” Moon frowns. “I know they can go psycho when someone quits. Look what happened to Hawk.”

“Any of those bitches come at me with a razor and I’ll beat their ass into next week.” Piper rolls her eyes, unfazed. “And what the hell are the senseis going to do? Call the cops on me for quitting their dojo? They’ll get laughed off the phone.”

“Just…be careful. I don’t want Cobra Kai hurting anyone else I care about.”

Before she can stop herself, she reaches out and squeezes Piper’s hand. The other girl turns and fixes her with a pale green gaze, expression unreadable.

“Okay,” she says quietly, tone turning serious.

Piper’s phone buzzes again, and the moment ends.

“Damn,” she mutters, glancing at her texts. “I forgot I said I’d bring jaeger bombs. I’d better get ready.”

“Oh, sorry.” Moon pulls away, embarrassed. “I don’t mean to take up too much of your time.”

“Don’t worry about it. I hope I could help.”

They stand up, and Piper starts to walk her out. Moon stares at the floor, suddenly feeling anxious again.

She stops right before they reach the front door. “What you said to do with Yasmine…what if it doesn’t work?”

“You better hope it does, because otherwise you’re going to have to consult the dark web or something. And then you’ll have to wade through about 70 sites with the most degenerate porn you’ve ever seen before finding anything useful.”

Moon laughs, tension easing.

“I guess I’ll deal with that when it happens. Or if.”

“Exactly. One thing at a time.”

“Well…I’ll let you go.” Moon offers Piper one last smile, opening the front door. “Have fun at your pizza party, okay?”

She’s halfway onto the porch when Piper catches her wrist, pulling her back.

“Hey, Moonshine…”

She turns. “Yeah?”

“I meant what I said before.” Piper bites her lip, meeting Moon’s eyes nervously. “About, um…if you sort through this whole Yasmine thing, and you ever decide you want to try again…all you have to do is ask.”

The surprise on Moon’s face must throw her for a loop.

“I mean, I’m not saying I’m going to sit on my ass waiting around,” she amends quickly, grip loosening. “I can’t promise I won’t move on. And I’m not, like, some piney mess who’s got nothing better to do than try and ‘win you back’ or whatever. But if you’re ever feeling it, and Yasmine’s not an issue anymore…just ask. The worst I’ll do is say no.”

And before Moon knows what she’s doing, she steps back inside and wraps Piper in a tight hug.

“Thank you,” she murmurs into the thick, bushy hair she remembers loving so much. “For helping. You didn’t have to, and I appreciate it.”

“I know.” Slowly but surely, Piper hugs her back. “But someone has to check you before you cause some domino effect that sends half the school into a sexuality crisis.”

***

Some author's notes, in no particular order:

I will literally die on the hill that Demetri is a bad boyfriend. All he's ever done IN CANON has been to objectify and generally be gross with Yasmine??? And the lead up to the whole icky "sexual venn diagram" comment was basically "hey, you should settle for me because I'm popular now and everyone thinks you're a laughingstock <3" Like wow! What a great way to treat the girl you're supposed to be "101% in love with"! And in S4 onwards he doesn't appear to know jack shit ABOUT her and just puts her on this pedestal as his "dream girl" while never actually mentioning anything about her personality.

I'm honestly not surprised that the natural progression of their relationship in S5 was (most likely) Yasmine getting fed up with Demetri not giving any visible shits about who she is as a person, and getting into fights with him the second she starts asserting her own wants and needs outside of him. And of course he gets her shallow jewelry gifts to placate her, which is just further proof he doesn't know her at all--it reads like he just saw on the internet that "girls like jewelry." And it's not like it actually solves anything, considering he's gotten her so many apology gifts that she can "barely lift her arm"! Tbh it pisses me off to not end that people whine and bitch about Demetri being a "bad friend" (which is so easily disproved it's not even funny) and don't make a peep about the gross way he treats his own fucking canon love interest. Please roast my trash son Demetri Alexopoulos for the RIGHT reasons!!!

I really did my damndest to keep Yasmine as canon-compliant as possible here. I do think she and Moon messed around in S1 and no one will ever be able to convince me otherwise, but I tried to keep everything we see of her here consistent with how she acts onscreen in seasons 1, 3, and 5. Season 4 is the obvious odd man out, which...needless to say is kinda the point XD But you take S4 out of the mix and accept some weird fluke was going on that was making her act that way, and we get something semi-plausible to work with! Hopefully she comes across as in-character (from what little we see of her!) here.

Also she does not love it when Demetri talks nerdy. Aisha and Sam's S1 salt conversation proves that she is not about it when people talk about nerdy school-related shit that reads like an inside joke she can't get in on (which applies to...most school-related things, considering she's shown to be kind of book dumb). She loves when Demetri gets her good grades, but she doesn't like. Have any inherent interest in school-related "nerdy" things??? And has never been shown to??? "Character development" shouldn't come out of nowhere and involve characters randomly getting into things they have never been shown to be drawn to actually!

I also hope I did an okay job writing Piper here! I wish I could write more MoonPiper, but we get!!! So ANNOYINGLY little of them and of Piper in general??? Like seriously, I went back and rewatched all the Piper scenes in the show, and there's like. Maybe 5 or 6 in THE WHOLE SHOW??? I barely have anything to work with and it is AGGRAVATING because I really love Piper and MoonPiper as a ship!!! And I want to do it justice that isn't just me projecting my own headcanons and theories because I don't know what else to do!!!

I really do think Piper is Not As Invested in Cobra Kai as everyone else though, lmao. Like she is there for shits and giggles, and also free merch. She respects herself too much to become a slave to the "cobra kai for life" bullshit lol

It IS incredibly funny to me that Moon gets more homoerotic scenes with her Super Totally Straight Best Friend than with the girl who was canonically her girlfriend. Like I love both ships, I really do, but when they give Yas and Moon SO many fruity scenes while their boyfriends are also being fruity, what did they EXPECT!!! Of COURSE I'm going to write YasMoon like my life depends on it!!!

Also, Moon saw that nacho nonsense with Hawk and Demetri in S2. She saw Hawk yank Demetri onstage during Valley Fest. She saw Hawk get all snippy about Demetri hitting on girls at the beach. She saw Hawk throw a hissy fit because his boyfriend bestie wouldn't join his evil dojo. She damn well knows they're gay!

And so does Piper ajadhskufbhd these girls weren't born yesterday!

Hoping to get this entire fic up on AO3 sometime in November! :3

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callsign-phoenix · 3 years ago

Text

This is a part two to this fic I wrote.

It is a Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin x female!reader imagine.

Thank you @the-decency-of-merciful-lies for proofreading!

Warnings: cursing, serious angst, paraplegia, this fic is racially and body type inclusive despite the moodboard suggesting otherwise

“So you do care,” were Jake’s first words when he woke up again.

An involuntary smile spread across your face and you let out a laugh that was masked by a final sob before you managed to compose yourself slightly.

You shook your head in denial, but he smiled even though you were sure it hurt.

“No, you love me, I heard you,” he said, the pride obvious in his voice, even though he looked like hell.

You smiled and gave him one short nod, holding his hand just a little tighter.

“Shut up, Jake,” you laughed through the tears before you wiped them away, looking at him in all seriousness and making sure he knew you were true with what you were going to say.

“I do, and I’m sorry for hurting you. I’m sorry for everything, and I’d like to try again,” you said softly and he nodded, moaning in pain when he did.

“I want to help you deal with whatever this is, until you can get back to flying and you can decide if you want me around.”

He was about to say something but stopped himself, letting his eyes roam the room and finding his legs tucked neatly into a hospital blanket.

There was a second before he said something, his happy expression at the words he had longed to hear for so long falling from his face like the tears previously had from yours.

“I can’t feel my legs,” he said, an icy feeling erupting in your stomach.

“I’m not going out there!” Jake said enthusiastically as he shook his head, his eyes trained on you.

It had been weeks since he had woken up in the hospital and you had spent all the time you had supporting him.

You were there when he was discharged from the hospital, driving home and helping him settle in.

You had stayed with him the entire time, helping him get used to the new situation he was in.

Jake Seresin was paralyzed from the waist down, which meant that he couldn’t work or live the way he was used to.

While everyone was happy he was alive he was very short-tempered, fear, anger and confusion about his new life apparent in every word he said to you.

You felt like you deserved it, you felt like it was at least partly your fault that he was in an accident.

He had trouble adjusting and you did your best to help, even in situations like these.

Jake and you were cramped up in his room while a dozen guests waited in his garden, a ‘welcome home’ and a ‘we’re glad you’re alive’ party that had been planned by his parents in process.

“I’m not going out there just so they can stare at me in pity and disgust, most of them didn’t even visit me when I was in hospital!” He said in anger, his pretty face contorted in a grimace.

You sighed as you ran a hand through your hair, nodding because you understood how he felt.

“Jake, they’re happy to see you. They came because they’re glad you made it out alive,” you tried your best, but he wasn’t having it.

“What, the people that didn’t visit me in hospital?” He asked, and you looked away from him because he was right about it.

Except for his fellow aviators and you, no one had come to see how he was doing.

“And you, who didn’t talk to me for seven fucking months only to tell me to die the day before I go on my mission?” He continued.

You flinched at the comment but you accepted it, standing up for the mistakes you made.

You took a deep breath before you continued talking.

“Your parents organised the entire thing, I didn’t like the idea either. But sometimes you do things that concern you for other people, this is one of those times,” you told him.

“Your family loves you and your coworkers too, and I’ll be by your side the entire time,” you continued, walking towards him to make your words more believable.

“This is fucking humiliating,” he grumbled but he nodded at you, thankful for your help even if he didn’t say so.

He wasn’t thrilled to face his loved ones but he did so, all while you made sure to stay by his side the entire time.

Jake and you had a strange relationship since he came home from the hospital, you hadn’t talked about what you were to each other and you stayed in his guest room, basically living with him.

You helped him as much as you could and he needed you, even if he hated to admit it.

You hadn’t kissed or slept together since you lived together, but you had developed another kind of intimacy.

While you got used to help Jake around the house with specific things he hadn’t gotten used to it yet, he was upset a lot of the time, mouthing back at you when you offered your help.

He was sad and angry, disappointed in the situation he was in, even if physical therapy seemed to at least lessen his pain.

You didn’t know what he was angry at exactly but you let him take his anger out on you until it became too much.

Caring for Jake wasn’t your only job, you still had your work as a mechanic, but the moment you came back to where Jake and you lived it was an immediate switch to being there for him.

It was exhausting for you but you tried to think of how Jake had to feel with his adjustment.

He had a lot of physical therapy sessions and his doctors had told him he might be able to walk again, but he could kiss the idea of ever flying again goodbye.

Jake reacted the way you had imagined, only becoming more bitter about it.

When your superior kept you to work longer his nerves were strained already, but no matter how much you tried to help him he was only angry with you.

You knew he was experiencing physical, mental and emotional pain, but so were you.

“Give me a break, please Jake,” you let out when he complained about the fact that you were late back home.

“Give you a break? I won’t ever get one, do you know that?!” He raised his voice, but you only nodded in response.

“Yeah well I haven’t had one since you got home either, because you’re fucking exhausting!” You shouted, and Jake’s face showed the betrayal he felt.

“Oh, I’m exhausting? Well think about how exhausted I was after not sleeping a fucking second after the shit you said to me,” he growled.

“It’s your fault I’ll never be able to even work again!”

“No, it’s not, it’s not my fault alone! You knew how you were feeling, you could have declined to fly the fucking mission!” You answered with just as much hurt and anger in your voice.

You had allowed him to be angry and frustrated but he had hurt you too, you felt like you had suffered long enough.

“You always say it’s my fault, well I haven’t forgiven you for cheating on me yet! It’s not like just because you need my help I don’t remember what you did to me, I’m just here because I love you and you need my help!” You tried to justify yourself, but you were only hoping it would make sense to him.

“It might sound selfish but you hurt me, and I needed to hurt you back,” you continued, your voice lower by now but definitely not losing its intensity.

“I didn’t know this would happen, I would have never said anything had I known how much my words affected you,” you finished, and you saw Jake close his eyes for a second.

He was breathing heavily, but you saw that he was trying to control himself.

“I would have never… you know that, you know I’m so sorry,” you said as you felt the tears run down your cheeks like they last had when you visited him in the hospital.

For a while you didn’t get a reaction from Jake, he just let you cry, until you felt his hand on yours.

When you glanced at him his face had softened, the anger seemingly evaporated.

“I know you are, and I know you wouldn’t have,” he started, brushing his thumb over the back of your hand.

“I’m sorry too. There’s nothing that excuses what I did, but I need to tell you why I did it,” he said, swallowing harshly as he felt your eyes on him.

“When I cheated on you I did so only so that you would find out about it. I was scared of what we had, how much I love you and what that would mean, and I decided I didn’t want to risk it. I was so wrong about that, and I’ve been regretting it every day of my life,” he said, scratching the back of his neck in anxiety.

“I felt like you seeing I wasn’t good for you would be the only way for you to leave,” he finished.

You were breathless but you nodded, having to process the information.

“I was so fucking wrong, and I’m sorry about that,” he said.

“I’d love to give you and me a try though, if you want,” he said softly, his voice barely above a whisper.

“I’d like to work on us, on me, but I think I really need your help,” he said.

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butlersxbirdy · 2 years ago

Note

Hey! Can you do an Austin imagine where he comforts the reader after she has a nightmare where she loses him?

Here it is! I decided to do it as a part of the Canon for my series You Light My Morning Sky, because it gave me Derek and Meredith vibes, and I wanted it to have a moodboard. Whoever finds the MerDer Easter eggs in the board gets a cookie!

You Light My Morning Sky

Interlude 2: Dark and Stormy Nights

Warnings: Hurt/comfort, nightmares, mentions of death, use of Daddy/Princess outside of sex

You and Austin had been married for about a year now, and everything is perfect. He was every bit as doting as you'd known him to be and more since you became man and wife.

On your anniversary, you decide to surprise him with a nice dinner. You got all dressed up after prepping and getting everything in the oven, and you decided to light some candles everywhere to really set the mood for romance. You were secretly hoping Austin would come home and successfully put a baby in your belly, but you didn't dare hope you'd nail it on the first try.

After watching the clock, and beginning to get worried, you called his phone. He didn't answer.

You tried not to panic, but a knock at the door sends chills down your spine.

When you answer, a police officer is standing there.

"Are you y/n Butler?" He asks and you nod. Your whole body is shaking, and numb.

"Yes, I am, is everything okay?" You ask, barely above a whisper.

"Come with us please."

The ride to the hospital is agonizing. You feel sick to your stomach, and all you want is to see Austin. When you arrive, they lead you down a hallway to a small private room.

The machines beeping and the fluorescent lights make it seem as though someone is in the bed, but there is no life in the body in front of you. Austin isn't there anymore. You can feel it; the love he felt for you, the fire in those eyes, the strength of spirit that warmed any room he occupied, is gone. Before they can ask you to positively identify him, you scream, collapsing to the floor in anguish. You couldn’t go on without Austin.

You awoke with a cry, to an empty bed. The nightmare felt so real, and his side of the bed is empty. Your body shakes with sobs and you can't shake the queasy feeling still churning your stomach, and you scream out for help, for him to come back.

"DADDY!" you sob. Instantly, he runs in from the living room and scoops you up into his arms.

"Baby, baby, hey... hey, I'm here, what's wrong?" He coos. You cling to him, putting your hands everywhere you can reach, making sure he's real.

"Daddy, you were dead... they had you on all these machines but you were gone," you sob and he nuzzles you.

"That's never gonna happen, baby. I'm not leaving you, we have so much more to do together," he assures you. He pulls away a little to look at you but you cling tighter.

"Oh... baby, you're really shook up, huh?" He coos and you nod.

"Y...yeah, Austin, of course I am," You sniff. "I love you, so much, and I can't... I can't..." you sob, and he wraps you up in his arms, trying not to cry but his eyes are damp. His love for you is overwhelming, and the thought of leaving you, the thought of you having to live without him, marry someone else, have children with someone else, was painful. When he does pull away a little to look at you, you nuzzle his cheek and feel his tears.

"Why are y..you crying, D...Daddy?" You hiccup and he runs his hands through your hair. Your hands come up to cup his face tenderly, and he kisses the inside of your wrist.

"Picturing leaving you. I love you too much," he hums.

"Then why did I wake up alone?" You pout as he lays you down, cuddling up to you and turning off the lights.

"I was writing my vows, Princess," he whispers, kissing your skin everywhere he can. "But that can wait, let's go to sleep, hold on to Daddy, okay?" He soothes you and you cuddle in extra close, pushing your hands up his shirt and tangling your legs together.

"My Daddy," you sigh and he smiles, kissing your face as you drift off to sleep.

"My princess," he hums, and soon is asleep too, dreaming of the day he gets to call you Mrs. Butler.

#austin butler #austin butler imagine #you light my morning sky #austin butler fic #fic requests #austin butler x reader

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katishome · 3 years ago

Text

Sweet Talk - Grumps n’ Sweets 2

Pairings: CEO!Harry x Chef!Y/n

Summary: Harry begins to win her over with his persistent attitude and charming quips.

Word Count: 1.7k

The song Sweet Talk by Saint Motel reminded me so much of Harry and Y/n’s relationship in this story:)

Part 1

~~~

i’m the biggest dummy in the world:( i didn’t tag @treatbuckywkisses for making this incredible moodboard for me!!!!!

“Piss off, Harry,” you groaned when you saw his smiling face outside the shop’s door.

“No,” he only smiled harder.

“Stay away from me!”

***

Harry decided he was going to win her over, no matter what it took.

On Monday, he dropped off a bouquet of Sunflowers, some red roses and lavender added in for some extra color.

Favorite flowers for my favorite girl :)

-H

She’d left them at his secretary’s desk that afternoon.

Allergic, sorry :(

Tuesday, he sent them back to her, an old picture of her at a sunflower field attached.

Liar

-H

And you can bet, they were on his desk by the time he came back from his meeting.

He was met with a picture of her middle finger.

The flowers had begun to wilt by Wednesday, so he bought a new bouquet and they repeated the same thing for weeks.

Harry stood at the door with a small bear, it was white and covered in hearts.

“I think you’ve gotten even cheekier over the years,” he smiled as she let him in. They’d started doing that, Harry just sitting at the counter while she set up for opening. It was nice. The peace and quiet, and just being in her presence felt good. She set the bear with her stuff, and got to work. The other chefs had gotten to know him as well, since he was there every morning when they got to work. He’d become particularly close with the sweet Nigerian woman that reminded him of his grandmother, named Alika.

“Harry! How are you today, sweet child?”

“I’m good Alika, how are you, darling?”

“Good, good! Are you hungry my boy? I’ll make something for you very quick,” she offered with a smile.

“No, no. I had a scone this morning-”

“Scone? From where?!” Y/n shouted from the kitchen.

“Oh, you in big trouble, boy.” Alika laughed as she disappeared through the kitchen doors.

“My mum made them! I swear!” He threw his hands up in surrender, biting his lip to hold in his laugh.

“If I find out you’re lying Harry!” She warned. “You have to go, Harry!”

“Thank you, love. Have a good day!”

He was quickly out the door, but didn’t miss the, “you too!” She shouted back to him.

***

“Hold on just one moment, Ms. Finley,” Harry interrupted. Stepping out of his office, he saw his employees crowding around the floor to ceiling windows down the hall. He pushed through them, scanning his eyes around trying to spot where the siren was coming from. But before he could locate the truck, panic set in. Thick, black smoke was pouring out the front doors of the little coffee shop across the street, if you could still call it that. Everything was a blur from there. He didn’t process shoving people away and sprinting to the stairs, almost tripping about 10 times, or making it out the fancy doors of the Styles Dazzling Designs building.

There was barely anything left. Just a blackened foundation of the once cafe. Harry was brought out of his trance by the sound of sobs and shouting.

“Harry!” Y/n shouted, frantically crossing the street to him. She let out a whimper as she wrapped her arms tightly around him, burying her face into his suit jacket.

“What happened?”

“One of the new chefs burned the caramel and poured it down the sink, everything happened so fast.”

“Are you alright? Not hurt?” He worried.

She gently pulled back and showed him the burn across her wrist, tears in her eyes. She looked so scared and vulnerable, like she did that day he ended things.

“Let’s go take care of this,” he placed his hand on the arch of her back and led her inside.

Y/n’s sitting on the couch in his office while Harry holds a cool cloth to her wrist. A pout on her lips as she looked up at him.

How can he stay serious when she was looking at him like that? Like he was the only thing right in the world.

“Harry?” She whispered, “I'm scared. It’s- what am I gonna do? I haven’t had another job since college. I-”

“Hey,” he started, “ look at me. You’ll be ok, hm? You’ll figure it out. Let’s worry about you and this burn right now.”

She sighed and laid her head on his shoulder. Everything happens for a reason, right? They both subconsciously inched towards each other, breath fanning across one another’s lips.

“Ow,” she winced.

“Oh ‘m sorry love, didn’t mean to.”

“It’s ok,” she smiled softly. She was quite relieved he’d squeezed her wrist, she wasn’t quite ready to be close to him like that again. Though her body thought differently.

***

Harry invited her for dinner, to get her mind off of everything. He sat her on the counters, a glass of wine in her hand as she swung her legs, humming to the background music as he cooked.

They sat on the couch and ate, catching up on work and how things have been since they’d separated. But Y/n had had one too many glasses of wine, and not nearly enough food for all the alcohol to stay down. So he took her glass and walked to the kitchen, giggling at the way she continued to talk to herself. Though, when Harry comes back, she’s nowhere to be seen. He places the water bottle on the coffee table and spots her rings strewn across it. Then her left shoe lay on its side adjacent to the couch pillows, her right on the floor next to the couch, her sweater laying on the floor in front of the stairs. There was a trail of socks going up the stairs.

“What’re you doin?” Harry called.

“Gettin’ in bed!” She replied as if it was so obvious.

When Harry reached his bedroom, Y/n was on her tummy, face buried in his pillows.

She turned on her back to look at him, her eyes drooping and mouth hanging open slightly.

“‘m sleepy,” she whispered.

“I know, you wanna take these off?” Harry asked, hooking his thumbs onto the belt loops of her jeans, tugging slightly.

“Yeah,” she smiled up sheepishly, “want y’hand shirt please.”

He didn’t even think he still had that, but he’d look for her.

“Harry?” She called.

“Yeah, love?”

“Want m’shirt!”

“I know, ‘m lookin for it!”

“I’m cold!” She complained.

“Get under the covers, silly,” he laughed.

He peeked his head out of the closet when she heard her straining and whining.

“Gotta lift your hips, darling,” he chuckled, abandoning his search to help her.

“Can I have some tea and biscuits?”

“If you’re awake in ten minutes, I'll get you some tea and biscuits,” he reasoned, brushing the hair away from her face.

“I don’t think I have that hand shirt anymore, darling,” Harry pouted.

He suddenly remembered that she was an emotional drunk, breathing out a sigh to prepare for the tears that were already forming in her eyes.

“Don’t cry, I’ll find you another.”

“But I want the hand one,” she whimpered.

“I know you do, but how about I find you a better one, hm?”

“Ok,” she sniffled.

With some more tears and arguing, Harry managed to get Y/n into his “but daddy I love him” T-shirt.

She immediately settled down when the smell of him filled her senses, cuddling down into his sheets and kicking out her legs.

“I missed you, Harry.”

“I missed you too, darling. So very much.”

“Harry!” She called out.

He came wobbling over to his room, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes.

“Where’d you go?” Y/n pouted.

“To the other room,” he responded through a yawn.

“Why? I was comfy lying with you,” she whined, patting the bedding next to her.

She was too cute. It was moments like this when Harry questioned his sanity for leaving her. His heart fluttered when she cuddled into his side, breathing onto his neck. He knew she wasn’t completely sober yet, but that didn’t stop him from enjoying her presence and touch.

***

Harry woke up early to his alarm, Y/n still sleeping peacefully on her stomach. He just sat and watched her for a while with a loving gaze. Bed missed waking up to her so much, the sun shining on her skin made him smile and run his hands along the warm surface. This is what he’d spoken to Ruth about wanting. This closeness, and not with just anyone. With her. And now he had her. He knew she just needed someone to comfort her after the fire, and that she was drunk last night, but he couldn’t help but imagine her finally agreeing to have dinner together. And not to distract her, like a date date. Not as friends, as people who were seeing each other.

He didn’t need to go into work right? He didn’t have any meetings or anything. He could deal with his employee’s fuck ups tomorrow. It was the right thing to do to stay home and take care of Y/n. Maybe he could bake with her. Help her figure out what her next move should be. Since the cafe was unfortunately long gone.

He thought about what he had worked on with Ruth. Gaining control over his emotions. To try not to become too attached to Y/n. He’d texted her last night actually, they spoke for about an hour or so. She had told him it was ok for him to comfort her during this time, but not allow himself to become attached. Because if she no longer wanted to be in contact with him at some point, or if she wanted to stay friends, he’d end up back at square one. And Ruth really didn’t want to see the quiet, cold hearted man she met 4 years ago. He was still closed off and angry, but he’d made so much progress, and it'd break her heart for all that to be gone. She cares for him like a son, he had a big heart of gold, but regret and anger made him build up a wall, and close off his kind soul.

But at that moment, all that advice sounded like complete bullshit to Harry.

#harry styles soft #harry styles #harry styles series #harry styles fluff #harry styles angst #ceo!harry #chef!y/n #chef!reader #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fic #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles as it was #harry’s home #kat’s posts #kat’s writing

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velidewrites · 2 years ago

Note

YOU LISTEN NOW!!!

sit down, grab a cup of tea and listen to me!!

only good for the moodboards??? are you completely mad and out of your mind?

you writing is exquisite and amazing, absolutely phenomenal. from your first story on I was in complete awe of your writing and practically fell in love with every piece. everything you wrote was and is 100% on point, extremely well-phrased with so much thought and creativity flowing into it. you have this special way of writing and describing things that just makes people want to continue reading everything you wrote. (this is the reason I still haven't read the Hunger Games AU, because I need to read it in one go)

you are incredibly talented and it makes me sad that you yourself don't see that. and I bet each one of the people reading this will agree 100% with me.

and of course, your moodboards a brilliant (duh) but so is your writing. I would never say the moodboards are better than your writing, it is your writing (and obviously YOU, as you are this amazing human being) why I follow you. your writing was why I initially followed you and not one of your stories has ever disappointed in any way.

I mean, excuse me, but ACOTAR HUNGER GAMES AU???? this idea is brilliant and I am in complete admiration of you coming up with such a story and being able to write it down. and everything else you write as well (your Elucien stories own part of my heart, love)

please don't forget how beautifully you write and how much talent you have. and of course, what big and kind heart and soul you have. you are a true gem and delight in this fandom and so are your stories.

lastly, no lie, whenever I see a post of yours, I have to smile.

💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛

sorry, I escalated a little bit, but I was furious when I saw that you doubt your writing abilities (also I would like for you to feel face-palmed by me for this silly thought)

I really hope you feel better soon, just know that you are so valued and appreciated and loved here!!!

Profusely sobbing into my tea right now.

Truly, you have no idea how much I appreciate you and your friendship. I was having such a shitty day and you managed to turn it around and make it the best one this week.

Thank you for being you - so kindhearted and wonderful. You’re a beautiful person inside and out and I love you 💕

#you are literally the kindest person i know #and i love and cherish you so much #YOU are phenomenal and i’m always in awe of you

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cntloup · 1 year ago

Text

18+ MDNI UndergroundBoxer!Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Fem!Reader teasing, rough sex, manhandling, slight choking, creampie, one spank, breeding kink

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

(can be read as a one-shot)

moodboard | face

“Do you forgive me now?” “I guess so. But let’s see what else you can do.” you reply, panting and grinning with delight after your intense orgasm, making him chuckle, his chest rumbling against yours and he lowers his head to start kissing your lips again, pouring every ounce of his love and devotion for you into the kiss.

He pulls away to discard his pants and boxers letting his hard cock spring out, making you lick your lips as you start drooling at the mere sight of him.

He crawls on top of you again, kissing you gently as he lines himself up between your legs. He slides the tip along your folds teasingly before slowly pushing inside, making you whimper and himself groan quietly. He starts pushing deeper and deeper, his thick shaft stretching out your sweet little cunt so far, it stings at first and he lets out a grunt "Fuck, baby! You're swallowing me whole." as he bottoms out and a gasp escapes your mouth as you feel so full, digging your nails into his back.

He looks into your eyes and starts moving after you nod. He captures your lips with his as he steadily pulls out and pushes himself inside again, dragging his length against your walls as you mewl under him. “Fuck! So tight f’me.” He mutters as he starts rolling his hips into yours.

He slowly moves his hands to the back of your knees pushing them up and propping your legs on his shoulders, gaining better access to your soaking wet cunt. He takes your hand in his, intertwining your fingers together while caressing the soft skin of your thigh with the other.

He begins to pick up the pace gradually, his fat veiny cock sliding up and down your gummy walls, his tip hitting your sweet spot every time he thrusts into your tight seeping pussy hard and deep. "So... fuckin'... good... f'me... my... pretty... girl." he praises in between thrusts, moaning and groaning into your ear. One hand still holding yours as the other one travels along your body and finds your sensitive puffy clit, rubbing his calloused fingertips gently on your bundle of nerves, swallowing your soft whimpers with each kiss.

You start moving your hips to his rhythm, meeting him halfway. He throws his head back in pleasure at the feeling of your walls wrapped around him as he lets out a guttural moan and you sob “FUCK! Simon, yess yesss, right there! Ahhh…”. He pants and grunts softly into your ear as he buries his head into the crook of your neck while pumping his thick length into your tight pussy vigorously, heavy balls slamming onto your ass, loud moans and whimpers escaping your lips. "Fe-feels s-so g-good, Si!" you cry out as your nails scratch up and down his back, leaving red marks.

He brings one hand to your neck, carefully closing around it, squeezing just enough to make you dizzy. You wrap your much smaller hand around his wrist to guide him on the amount of pressure he puts on your throat.

He’s ramming his fat cock into your wet needy cunt mercilessly, bringing you both closer to the edge. “Fuck! Gonna fill you up. Full of my cum. You want that. Huh?!” he grunts out. You hum in response, mind hazy. “I’m c-close.” you manage to get out the words in between mewls and squeals. “Let go, love. Cum for me.” he coos, his soft words in contrast to his harsh movements. You grasp his biceps tightly, your pussy cramping around him as you cum around his cock, legs trembling, “SIMON!” you scream out and a string of curses leave his mouth as he reaches his own high with a loud deep groan. You feel the warmth as he releases his cum inside you, painting your walls white. A mix of both your juices seeping out of your pussy.

He doesn’t stop moving, still pumping his load deeper inside your swollen red cunt. You start whining into his ear “Ple- please, Si! ‘s to- too much!” you hiccup. “No, love. Shouldn’t waste it. Gonna make you a mama! Huh? You like that, yea?” he croons and you let out a high-pitched moan at his words “Yess!”.

His dick is still hard as he starts moving again, slamming his girthy meaty cock into your poor puffy pussy. You can’t stop your hiccuped whimpers and whines since you’re overstimulated but you still want more. “More, Si!” “You want more? I’ll give you more.” He groans as he suddenly slams into you harshly, causing a loud gasp to fall from your lips. He continues his rapid thrusts into your tight cunt, ignoring your pleas as you beg him to stop also beg him to make you cum again.

He unexpectedly pulls out, making you whine at the sudden loss, leaving you feeling empty. He flips you onto your stomach, raises your hips and his hand slides down your back, making it arch for him, ass up presented to him as he stares at your shiny puffy pussy. He kicks your legs apart and slams his cock into you without warning, making you let out a loud cry.

He continues his relentless thrusts into your sensitive cunt, his hands grasping your hips bruisingly, hefty balls hitting your clit every time he buries himself inside you to the hilt, pumping into your wet needy pussy repeatedly and rapidly. He spanks your ass as you whine and squeal pathetically, drooling on the pillows. You can feel the heat pooling up inside your belly, clenching down on him and he's right there with you as he chases his own release. You let a deep moan seep out, your voice hoarse from making too much sound, as you cum around him again, body shaking with intense pleasure, mouth agape, a silent scream forming on your lips and he follows right after as he slams into your swollen red pussy one last time and releases his load inside you again, a low growl escaping his lips, head thrown back, panting heavily, lost in a state of post-climactic euphoria.

He leans onto your back in exhaustion. "You did so well, lovie. Proud of you." he coos as he peppers soft loving kisses on your back and shoulders, slowly pulling out and gently laying you down on your side before flopping down on the bed beside you and taking you into his arms, placing your head on his chest. “So? You forgive me now?” he questions once more as you’re in your fucked out state. He literally fucked your brains out. “Yea, I forgive you.” you mumble sleepily with a mindless smile on your face and your brain foggy. He chuckles “Good.” as he places a tender kiss on your lips “I love you.” “I love you too, Si.” you whisper as you drift away into a slumber.

comments/reblogs are greatly appreciated ♥

#simon riley #simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x you #simon ghost riley x you #cod x reader #ghost x reader #cod fanfic #ghost cod #cod ghost #ghost call of duty #call of duty #cod mw2 #cod #mw2 #cod modern warfare #call of duty modern warfare #call of duty x reader

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unwanted-animal · 4 years ago

Text

Matt/Frank : T E E T H

Explicit. M/M.

Tags/CW: Teeth, Mouth Likely, Consensual Torture, Blood, Tooth Trauma, Dark, Romance, Don/sub, Rutting, Coming In Pants, Bloody Kisses, Please Do Not Let Matt Murdock Perform Oral Surgery On You

My gifts for @lovetincture for this year’s @daredevilexchange :D The prompt I chose to roll with was “Romantic Teeth Trauma”, and it lit a spark inside me! Which is why my gift is two moodboards, a playlist, AND a fic lol

AO3 for the playlist and Alt Text (will be live when the collection opens!)

“Are you sure about this, Frank?”

Matt crouched in front of the chair, head tilted to the side as he listened for any changes in Frank. His breathing. His heart rate. His tone. If there was any sign he wasn’t confident about his request, Matt planned to stop. Frank liked pain, sure, but this? This was beyond normal pain.

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m sure, Red. Only you. Anyone else I wouldn’t think about it, but you? You get me. I, I trust you. Y’know?”

“And you want no anesthesia?”

“None.”

No change. Even breathing. Steady heart rate. Frank was out of his goddamn mind, letting a blind man cut out one of his teeth. The thought brought a smile to Matt’s lips. Frank was mad, but that madness, that dedication to seeing things through, that only endeared him to him. He patted Frank’s leg gently and stood up.

“Okay. Can you reach the tools, push them toward me? Please?”

The rattle of metal filled his senses, making the room feel full and featureless. Matt groaned and shook his head to clear the cloud stifling his ‘sight’. Once the tray stopped, his access to the space returned. Deep shades of red, sparked by changes in the environment, that let him see - in a sense.

His world on fire.

Frank burned brightly in his special sense. Rugged, body made of valleys and hills and broken roads, sound made him shine. And Frank? Frank shone the loudest when he screamed.

Matt placed one hand on the handle of the cart. The other hovered over the tools.

“Scalpel,” he said softly.

“Four inches to your left. Blade facing away from you.”

He followed Frank’s instructions and lifted the surgical knife from the cloth. It was cool in his grasp, the handle weighted and the blade light and sharp enough to cut through muscle and tendon. Matt let out a slow breath. His hands were steady — no tremor. No fear.

Just a blind man performing intimate oral surgery.

“Once I’m in your mouth you won’t be able to instruct me, so if there’s anything you need to say to me, Frank? Now’s the time.”

Something about Frank’s gaze, Matt could always feel . He stared at him now , and from the way his pulse quickened he knew it was affectionate. Tender. He’d seen that look once, when the sirens lit the graveyard after the Irish. That hangdog, loving look in Frank’s sad eyes turned to him now, and he was certain there was a hint of madness to it. Of thrill. Frank wanted this. Hell, it’d been his idea.

“Yeah. Yeah, I got somethin’. Yeah. Matt?”

“Yes?”

“Don’t fuck it up,” Frank teased. “I love you.”

Matt smirked.

“I know. Open up for me.”

Frank opened his mouth, as wide as he could. His wrists tugged against the handcuffs holding them to the legs of the chair, the rattle reassuring. Frank wouldn’t get out if the pain was too great, which meant Matt wouldn’t wind up with a fist in his face when he dug into the root. It was a precaution, sure, but he had to admit he liked Frank tied up.

At his mercy .

Matt slipped two fingers inside his waiting mouth and slid them along his tongue. Frank shuddered, gagging slightly as he pressed down. Drool pooled around his hand and ran down, down the curve of his chin, spattering on his bare chest. Matt felt the wetness and smiled down at Frank.

“I bet you can do better than that.”

He lifted the scalpel and guided his fingers up. Picking a molar was the hard part. Humming, Matt tapped between three of them, whispering that familiar mantra.

“One batch. Two batch. Penny and dime — Ah. This one.”

The back molar. One Frank wouldn’t even know was missing.

“Here we go, Frank.”

All he got was a huff of a growl in response.

Matt pressed the blade into the soft meat of Frank’s gum. Blood welled from the wound, mixing with the drool, and Matt wished he could see it. The ecstatic look of agony carved into Frank’s Roman features, the mess he made, the wild rush burning in his eyes… He cut again. Again. Tracing the tooth. Beneath him, Frank snarled and roared.

“That’s right. Like that. Make noise, nobody will hear you here. Nobody but me.”

His noise made it easier for Matt to see what he was doing. Vibrations traveled through his mouth, and the loose skin he sliced through swayed from side to side. Soon he had most of the tooth exposed, the gums cut and peeled back with careful - if amateur - care. Frank pulled against the cuffs and rocked the chair as his fingers touched the wound, but Matt didn’t stop.

Frank had had plenty of time to revoke consent before. He didn’t. His fingers weren’t tapping out his safeword on the wood. Frank loved being out of control, submitting to Matt in such a deep, intimate way. Pain, even the extreme kind, wasn’t foreign to their relationship nor their sex.

This, this was dedication. A declaration. One far more beautiful than any other words or gestures could be.

Matt used Frank’s moans to find the forceps. He traded out his scalpel for the pointed steel, clicking them together a few times as Frank simply sat there shaking. His lips trembled, but he kept his mouth open to the cool air.

A good dog. Loyal. Obedient.

He guided the new tool inside, easily finding his way back. The blood dripping on his knuckles couldn’t be missed. Matt’s forceps closed around the tooth and he began to pry. Grunting, he pumped his arm, moving the bone in its tight little socket. Frank roared in pain, hips coming up and rubbing against Matt’s thigh.

He was hard, hard enough that the brief touch sent a shiver down Frank’s spine. Matt grinned, his dimples deep as he pressed his thigh back in response.

“Rut. Like a dog. I wouldn’t want to leave you all worked up, not when you’re behaving for me. Go on. Consider it a reward. A treat, Frank.”

Frank didn’t hesitate. He started thrusting against Matt, breathing hard through his nose as his cock strained against his jeans. A low moan vibrated in his throat as Matt yanked again, pulling, fighting to get the tooth free of his jaw. Frank screamed around his hands, tears flowing down his cheeks, and Matt’s world burst with vivid red color. He could see Frank. See the blood. See the wide-eyed and hungry stare Frank fixed on him. He was a beacon at the center of Matt’s world, pulsing with every shuddering sob.

“Beautiful,” he said, voice low and soft. “You make the world so beautiful .”

A loud crack split the air. Another. Another, as Matt leveraged his strength to force it out. With one last tug it snapped free of Frank’s jaw, clutched firmly in the forceps. Frank slammed his hips forward as he came, eyes rolling back in his head as that final surge of pain pushed him over the edge. Matt stumbled backward and held the tooth up triumphantly. His prize. His token.

While Frank’s sounds grew quiet, Matt’s vision faded back to darkness. He couldn’t see the sloppy smile on Frank’s face as he drooled blood onto his bare chest.

“… That,” Frank slurred, barely able to move his jaw. His words were mumbled, accompanied by dribbling blood. “Is yours. Yeah. Gonna take it to, to, to your guy. Drill a hole, get a chain. Wear it. Always.”

Matt released the tooth into his hand and ran his bloody thumb over the bone.

Frank’s bone.

A piece of him, to keep forever.

“… I love you, Frank. You know that?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I know. I, I love you too.”

He slipped the tooth into his pocket and lowered himself down on Frank’s filthy lap. His hands were just as messy, bloodied up almost to the elbow from Frank’s coughing and screaming. He slid one through Frank’s curls and tugged him into a rough, heated kiss. Blood filled his mouth, and Matt let it. He savored the taste of Frank. It was no different from kissing him with a split lip.

Except this time he could swallow the mess.

#fratt #Frank castle #Matt Murdock #pundevil #punisher #daredevil #ddexchange #Daredevilexchange

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flowerandblood · 10 months ago

Text

The Fall from the Heavens (30)

[ canon • Aemond x Strong • niece female ]

[ warnings: mention of death in childbirth, angst, swearing ]

Characters & Series Moodboard Lady Strong Moodboard Aemond & Lady Strong Moodboard Aemond & Lady Strong Childhood

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

Next chapters: Masterlist

_____

He believed he heard her screams and moans from afar. When he turned, he was standing in one of the chambers of Dragonstone, his uncle and his nephews sitting beside him around the table, tense.

All the women were with her now.

"How much longer is this going to take?" He asked impatiently, feeling discomfort and a twinge in his stomach at the thought that his niece had suffered in agony for so many hours, trying to bring his offspring into the world.

It was because of him, he thought with pain.

"It's hard to say. Laena's first birth was also difficult. She bore Baela only in the evening of the same day." Daemon said lowly, fiddling with the wine goblet standing on the table in front of him, of which he took a long, loud sip after a moment.

He pretended not to care.

He was trying to suppress his mind with alcohol.

He swallowed hard, glancing down at his fingers, noticing with horror that blood was oozing from the cuticles around his fingernails.

He rose immediately from his seat, horrified when one of the servants stepped into the chamber.

"− Y-Your Grace − you have a son − but your lady-wife −" She mumbled out with difficulty − only after a moment he saw that her trembling hands were all sticky with blood.

Her blood.

He rushed out of the chamber as if in a trance, not hearing his uncle's call, and walked swiftly into the room from which only a moment ago he had heard her howling, her screams, her cries.

Now someone was crying too, but not her − her mother was clutching her face to her body, high-pitched wails and moans coming from her throat as if someone was skinning her.

He didn't even pay attention to the infant, quivering and sobbing loudly in the arms of one of the servants − all he looked at was her face, the face of his wife, drenched in sweat and pale, her lips slightly parted, her gaze blank and distant, her body numb, lifeless.

"− Rhaenys −" He muttered, coming up to her quickly, hearing only his own ragged breathing, only the loud pounding of his heart in his chest. He climbed onto the bed, his hand touching her cheek.

It was still warm.

"− Rhaenys, look at me − it's all over now, my sweetest −" He breathed out, not listening to Rhaenyra's moans or cries, recognising that she was merely being dramatic, that his niece was simply exhausted and tired.

Her eyes stared somewhere far ahead of her, the traces of tears still clearly visible on her skin.

Was she calling out for him?

Did she beg him to come, terrified?

Why hadn't he heard anything?

"− Rhaenys − look at me −" He mumbled out, feeling like he was choking.

He sobbed in despair, cuddling his face into her soft, fragrant hair, hugging her close as if she were still a child.

She seemed so small to him, so weak.

"− gods, please, not her −"

"− Rhaenys −" He exhaled, pulling himself up to sit down, feeling his heart pounding like mad. He looked around, terrified, seeing only darkness, struggling to recognise the furniture and objects around him.

He was in his chamber, in King's Landing.

Alone.

Where was she?

Was all this, their marriage, her warm body snuggled into his, just a dream?

He groaned with despair at the thought, running his hand over his face − he closed his eye and breathed heavily, trying to calm himself, his whole body quivering, his heart pounding like mad.

He hissed, clutching at his eye where the sapphire had been placed, feeling the sudden, sharp pain in his skull that had accompanied him in his moments of greatest fear and horror.

He had never shared it with anyone.

He knew it meant he was weak.

That he cared too much, that he could no longer control neither his feelings for her nor the things that came with them.

He only calmed down after a while, reminding himself that he had sent her a letter, that he had returned to the Red Keep only a few days ago, and that every night he had spent since then had been the same.

He couldn't get any peace since she wasn't by his side.

Since he had spoken of what had happened with his brother.

"− how could you fly to Dragonstone without my knowledge or consent? −" Aegon growled, both of them sitting alone in his chamber.

His brother-king demanded his explanation as soon as he found out that he had returned to the Red Keep.

"− I had no choice − our grandfather wanted to end things in a different way than we had assumed − I had to get them out of there −" He said lowly, hoping for his support in what he intended to do with Larys Strong.

Aegon did not even look at him at his words, his gaze fixed on the dagger he was playing with in his hand.

"− Aegon −" He said impatiently, and his brother lifted his calm gaze to him from which he felt a tightening in his throat, his heart stopped for a moment.

"− you knew −"

Aegon shrugged his shoulders.

"− what would be left if they did not agree? −" He asked more to himself than to him, running his fingers along the steel blade. He ran his hand over his face and closed his eye for a moment, trying to calm himself.

Fuck.

"− her life would be taken by your order too? −" He hissed angrily − his older brother threw him a quick, warning glance.

"− no − I forbade anyone to touch her − she is yours −" He replied in a firm voice not withstanding the objection.

"− I did what I thought was right to protect my children − they agreed to our terms, so let's rejoice and not stir up pointless arguments −" He said impatiently, his jaw clenched in anger at his words.

"− our grandfather told you that they would have died that night anyway? −"

Aegon furrowed his brow and raised his surprised, uncertain gaze at him, as if wondering if he should believe him. He shifted uneasily in his seat and grunted.

"− where do you get this knowledge from? −"

"− Larys Strong − I want his head −"

"− he is our informer −"

"− he has threatened me and my wife − he has let me know that everything is arranged to end the war, no matter what the price − do what you want with our grandfather, but he is to die − this is my price for concealing the truth from me −" He growled, rising from his seat, circling the chamber as if in amok, feeling that his head was filled with chaos.

Was this how she had felt when he had betrayed her?

When he had concealed it all from her?

"− we need to think this through properly − find a reason to bring him to King's Landing −" He muttered, looking down at his fingers, apparently recognising that he could sacrifice one man to appease his wrath and not lose the greatest of dragons in this war.

"− no − 'tis I who will fly to Harrenhal − the sooner the better −" He said impatiently, folding his hands behind him.

"− there is no need for you to get involved − I will give the order −"

"− I want to do it with my own hands −"

Aegon looked at him for a moment in thought.

"− have you been so madly in love with her all this time? −"

He stopped, looking at him over his shoulder, shocked, feeling a wave of shame surge through his body.

He didn't know what he should answer.

Aegon snorted under his breath, shaking his head.

"− you've always been a poor liar − whenever someone uttered her name you got up from the table and left, as if you did't spend your evenings fucking yourself with your hand thinking of her −" He sneered, crossing his legs, spreading himself comfortably in his chair.

"− am I wrong, little brother? −" He asked softly, cocking his head in curiosity.

He sighed heavily when he was answered by his silence.

"− what did Daemon say? −"

He grunted in relief that he had changed the subject, his heart pounding like mad.

"− he is vigilant − he does not believe me or you − but he will not oppose Rhaenyra − and she loves her daughter −"

Aegon hummed under his breath and nodded thoughtfully.

"− there is nothing more dangerous than the love of a parent for his child −"

Aegon ordered him to stay in King's Landing for a few days to avoid arousing anyone's suspicions before he set off again for Harrenhal, and he agreed to this not willingly. Later that day his mother visited him in his chamber, throwing herself into his arms.

"− I thought I would never see you again −" She muttered, her familiar, pleasant scent of floral oils filling his nostrils.

"− mother −" He replied, placing a hand on her back. Alicent pulled away from him, looking at him with excitement and fear.

"− is it true? − Rheanyra agreed? −" She asked, and he nodded. A loud sigh of relief left her lips, her hand on her heart, a shy, girlish smile on her lips.

"− gods − maybe all is not lost yet −"

He had no peace night or day, thinking only of her and what would happen if she did not bear him a child as well as what might happen if she had to carry his heir under her heart.

The stories that he had heard about his father's first wife, and her grandmother, rattled around in his head, the sight of the white-haired woman with a slit lower abdomen haunting him and not letting him sleep a wink.

He was terrified.

However, he knew that before he set off for Harrenhal he had to face the person he feared most.

His grandfather.

He had managed to persuade Aegon to control him, but he feared that once he was out of the Red Keep, his grandfather would continue his plan behind their backs.

He could not allow that to happen.

He visited him on the morning before his journey to Harrenhal. Already dressed in his riding attire, he stood before him − his grandfather cast him a lazy, surprised look from above the book he had just been looking through.

"− Aemond − what brings my grandson here? − how was your visit to Dragonstone? −" He asked softly, as he always did when he was playing with another person, pretending that there was no subtext in his words.

He hated him for doing it, forever mocking him and Aegon.

He only showed concern for Helaena, because he couldn't use her any more than he already did.

"− I've been thinking a lot lately, grandfather − about my mother −" He began lowly, standing upright before him with his hands folded behind his back, knowing exactly what he wanted to say to him.

Otto raised his eyebrows, intrigued, spreading himself comfortably in his chair, crossing his legs.

"− indeed? −" He asked teasingly, as if he were speaking to a small, unaware child.

He decided not to react.

"− marriage has opened my eyes to many things that did not previously occupy my head − a husband's duties to his wife and what they mean were as distant to me as Essos until I experienced them myself −" He hummed, turning his head away, looking into the distance, at the sea reaching the horizon stretching beyond the great bay.

"− I cannot imagine a woman more helpless and vulnerable than when she lies beneath her husband, at his mercy − my wife then looks at me with trust and warmth, her body welcomes me with ease − but tell me, grandfather − how old was my mother when you ordered her to seduce my father? −" He asked coolly, looking at him − his grandfather furrowed his brow, his lips pressed into a thin line.

"− she was of an age suitable for marriage −" He replied indifferently. "− are you now going to lecture me on the raising of my children? − my decisions concerning her future? − she became a Queen −"

He snorted at his words, his lips parted in a mocking smile, revealing his teeth.

"− did you ever imagine it? − my old father with big, rotting wounds, lying on top of your daughter, and my mother? − I imagined that such a man would try to take my wife − I would kill him, even if he were her rightful husband −" He hissed, and Otto laughed, as if he had never heard a greater foolishness.

"− indeed? − do you think you understand how it is? − as far as I know, you and your beloved wife have not yet conceived your offspring − who knows if you will ever succeed − the will of the gods is impenetrable −" He said with a sneer, from which he felt his blood begin to boil in his veins, his hands involuntarily clenched into fists.

"− what did it feel like to sit on the Iron Throne while my father babbled stupefied by poppy milk? − was it in those moments that you felt it was worth it? − what did you truly sacrifice? −" He asked, answering him with a mocking sneer. His grandfather rose from his seat, furious, clearly trying to control himself.

"− everything −"

He laughed at his words, shaking his head.

"− no, grandfather − WE have sacrificed everything for you − my mother, my brother-king, Helaena and me − but if you think I will sacrifice my wife for you, you are sorely mistaken − one more misstep like this, one more move behind my back and you will go back to where you came from −"

"− how dare you threaten me − you owe me everything −"

"− no − YOU owe us everything − without us you are nothing, my Hand of the King −" He hissed, turning away tense, leaving his chamber with a slam of the door.

What could he do to him?

Kill him?

Deprive his brother of his dragon rider?

He prayed his words would cause him to refrain from further action, but he feared his grandfather would do something they would all regret in fear of losing power.

Even if a part of him truly protected his family, the other part always wanted the crown.

Always.

He had destroyed his mother by giving her to an old, dying man who called her by his dead wife's name, humiliating her over and over again.

He watched her endure her fate for years with humility, believing that the gods would one day reward her for her patience and sacrifice, for her devotion and care, the heavens, however, never answered her prayers.

As she locked all her desires deep within her heart, Aegon let them out completely, allowing them to cloud his vision for years.

He could not decide if what their grandfather had condemned them all to was dictated by care, or merely his unquenchable thirst for power.

He saw hope, however, in the fact that where Daemon and Otto refused to step down, Rhaenyra and Aegon were showing signs of common sense. Although there was much doubt in him, he believed that there was a way forward that did not lead to the complete destruction of their lineage.

He set off for Harrenhal at the head of a small troop of soldiers whose mission was to capture Larys' spies in Harrenhal and the Eyrie.

He wished to deal with Lord Strong personally.

To his surprise and frustration, he found the fortress deserted and surrendered − Lord Strong had fled, hiding somewhere, taking several servants and all the gold with him.

He felt like a fool standing in the empty stronghold looking at the terrified figures of the lord's distant relatives, his servants, farmers and landlords, evidently fearing to face his wrath.

Something else, however, caught his attention.

"Where is Alys Rivers?"

"In the dungeons, Your Grace." Declared one of the men, without raising his eyes at him.

"Take me to her."

He walked down into the underground of the fortress, accompanied by his guards, the clang of their steel armour and weapons all around them. They pointed their torches at one of the cells, and only after a moment did he recognise in the woman lying on the stone ground the person who had kept him awake for so many nights.

That fucking prophecy of hers.

"Wake up, woman." He commanded coldly, stepping closer to the steel bars. Indeed, he saw in the darkness the green of her eyes when she suddenly lifted her eyelids, her face and hands all bruised.

He had the impression that she had lost weight − she was pale, her eyes all red, her hands were trembling. She rose slowly, looking at him curiously, and grinned in a way that sent a shiver through him.

"Leave us alone." He said to his guards, and they nodded and obediently went back upstairs.

He only spoke to her when he was sure they could not hear him.

"Why did you lie? I could have your head for this." He hissed, his hands clenched into fists, his heart pounding like mad.

He needed to hear it from her.

The woman laughed weakly at his words, shaking her head with amusement.

"If there were no capacity for treachery in you, my words would not frighten you, Your Grace. But it wouldn't be the first time you've stabbed her in the back, would it?" She sneered, making his jaw clench tightly in rage.

Will you stab a dagger into my heart?

He was embarrassed and bitter that he didn't know what to answer.

She played him like a little child, making a fool of him.

"Why?" He growled feeling that he was red with embarrassment.

Alys Rivers shrugged her shoulders.

"My brother reckoned that after what was going to happen in the Eyrie she would try to take her own life again. I don't consider myself a good person, but I'm not heartless. I wanted you to be horrified by my words and get her as far away from here as possible."

"How dare you manipulate me and my wife."

"I didn't manipulate her. There was no need for that. You. Your pride wouldn't allow you to listen to the advice of a bastard woman, on top of the Strong line. A witch's prophecy that could give birth to your bastard child would be a different matter. Wouldn't it?" She asked, cocking her head curiously, her luscious green eyes shining uneasily in the darkness making him feel a cold sweat run down his neck.

He had never been so ashamed before, his stomach and throat squeezed so tightly that he had trouble breathing.

"Whose fucking side are you on, you insolent whore?" He hissed through clenched teeth, filled with humiliation and hatred, thinking that he would most like to tear her apart.

Her grin full of amusement made him breathless with rage.

"I am on my side. But my cold heart supports your wife. She has broken deep into it and refuses to leave it. I'm certain you understand me. Such a sweet girl."

"SHUT YOUR MOUTH!" He shouted low, his voice echoing powerfully around them.

Only after a moment did he realise he was panting heavily, his heart pounding like mad.

How could he possibly feel jealousy now?

He turned on his heel, recognising that she could have died of hunger and thirst in there, that he didn't care that Larys had probably locked her in there because she had warned his wife.

He couldn't bear that she, a stranger, had done something for her that he couldn't.

She had sacrificed herself for her.

That night he did not sleep a wink; he waited to hear from his wife and from his commanders whether they had found Lord Strong yet.

It seemed to him that every time he tried to do something right, everything fell apart in his hands.

He didn't know why, but it made him want to cry at the thought.

It was only in the morning that he was relieved − one of the servants brought him a message from Dragonstone, which he opened as soon as he was alone in his chamber.

I am alive, my husband, and I am in good health. Do not fret, I know I am safe here. I ask you, whatever you intend to do, not to take the life of Alys Rivers. I am owed a debt to her and her death is not my desire. Return to Dragonstone as soon as you can. Rhaenys

He breathed a sigh of relief as he read her words again and again, feeling that warmth was beaming from them, that her anger at him had already fled slowly. He ran his finger over the letters her hand had written thinking about her, about how much he needed her now, how lonely he felt.

Whether he wanted to or not, not wanting to cause another argument between them, he ordered that Alys Rivers be locked in her chamber and that food be served to her.

He did not want to see her, but wished to respect his wife's wishes.

He wrote back to her message right away, wishing it to reach Dragonstone as soon as possible.

I reached Harrenhal however, unfortunately, I found the fortress empty. Lord Strong escaped with several spies − we are still searching for them. In accordance with your will, I have spared Alys Rivers' life and locked her in her chamber. I cannot predict when I will be able to return to Dragonstone. I ask your forgiveness for not fulfilling my duty as your husband and not being by your side. Aemond

He ordered his letter to be sent immediately and waited, spending days pondering and discussing with his soldiers, searching the forests and strongholds of nearby lords, trying to find the man who in his eyes was a lousy rat.

He suspected his grandfather had managed to warn him, and felt furious that they had played him like a child.

Never before in his life had he wanted to kill another human being so badly.

Not even Luke.

However, one morning he was awakened by something that sent him into a state of terror − he pulled himself up on his bed when he heard the roar of dragons in the distance, the sweeping flap of their wings as they flew over the fortress like a great shadow.

He rose quickly, walking over to the window and laughed under his breath, involuntarily smiling with wonderful, overpowering relief as he saw the slender beast with silver-blue scales shimmering in the sunlight land next to the fortress.

As soon as he saw that the figure of the dragon rider had slipped off its back he turned, put his boots on his feet and walked out of his chamber disregarding his inadequate attire, linen shirt and breeches, running quickly down the stairs to meet her.

His wife.

275 notes · View notes

honeyhan-123 · 4 years ago

Text

The Monster In Plain Sight ~ II

Series Summary: Steve’s been slowly biding his time, playing the role of the perfect Captain America, but now he’s sick of playing and he’s going to take what he wants.

Chapter Summary: You awaken to a little surprise...

Warnings:Dark!Steve, explicit mentions of rape, male masturbation, porn, Steve being creepy.

Word Count: 2.7k

AN: Sorry it took me so long but enjoy this lovely new banner/moodboard <3

Series Masterlist

My Masterlist

Despite his late night rendezvous, Steve Rogers was up with the sun, just like usual. He knew he still had plenty of time before you would awake and so he started his normal morning routine, with only a slight tweak. Instead of heading to the shower where he usually imagined your body underneath his as he fisted his raging hard cock, he lay in bed, pulling out the camera from his bedside table.

His fist glided up down his cock as he played the video back. You had felt so good last night and watching the video just made him want you even more. He couldn’t wait until you were completely his, at his mercy. But most of all, he couldn’t wait until you were awake while he took you. He wondered if you would fight back like the others had, or if you would just yield to him like the sweet little submissive he would train you to be.

He rarely got the chance to take someone while they were awake, it was far too dangerous and while he did have friends in high places and he knew that any claims would just get swept aside, if too many claims came up people would start to talk and he wanted to avoid that at all costs if he could.

When he finally came all over his stomach it was to the vision clouding his mind of you, down on your knees, mouth wide open as you jerked him off. In his vision his cum coated your face, some of it dripping down to your chest and like the good girl you are, you swept some of it up with your fingers before licking them clean. ‘Thank you Steve.’

He showered and dressed quickly after that. On his way out of the apartment complex he stopped by your room, letting himself in with the key he had snagged from the landlord weeks ago. Your body had barely moved from when he had said goodbye, your nipples still pebbled from the cool air and a mess slowly seeping out of your cunt.

He could feel himself harden again as he fixated on his dried cum coating your pussy lips. He hoped it took, but if not there was always next time.

Steve had to physically force himself out of your room because he knew if he stayed he would take you again and you would probably wake up while he was inside you, which would ruin everything. He had to play this smart if he wanted it to work. So instead, he blew you a kiss from the doorway before heading out for his daily run, more eager than ever to return.

You awoke slowly, a soft smile drifting across your lips as you remembered the dream. It had been more vivid than most, in fact, you could almost have sworn it was real. They were happening more and more often recently. Ever since he moved in next door. The living Adonios.

You couldn’t help it. Not really. Not when he looked like that. You blamed the most recent one on dinner the night before. He had seemed so sad at the prospect of eating alone and so you had offered to cook for him. The smile that had graced his face had completely eased you of any anxiety at inviting a stranger into your home.

When your eyes finally opened, the warm contentment turned to ice in your veins.

Your body jolted up and you grimaced as you felt a pang between your legs. Where your sleep clothes had once been, there was nothing but naked skin. The ice in your veins turned to shards when you dipped a hand down, in between your legs. You didn’t have to be able to see it to know what it was.

You didn’t make it to the bathroom in time.

Instead you emptied what little was left in your stomach into the waste paper basket by your bedside table. You couldn’t think of anything as you lay on the floor, heave after heave convulsing through your body.

You didn’t know when they started but tears were freely flowing down your cheeks and sobs joined the dry heaves. How had this happened? How could this have possibly happened? What had happened?

You almost didn’t hear the knock over the noise but then you heard his voice call out. ‘Y/N? You there? Is everything okay?’ Your unease lifted slightly and you scrambled to cover yourself with a dressing gown. If anyone could help you it was him. Captain America.

A part of you didn’t want to face him, you didn’t want to face anyone. Not like this. But you knew that you should. He was a good guy and he’d be able to help. You chanted that mantra over and over again as you approached the door, wincing with every step.

You were just about to unlock the door when a flash of your dream came back to you. His godlike face twisted in pleasure as he rutted into you. It raised bile in your throat and you had to force yourself to swallow it back down.

You were being ridiculous. You knew you were. Yet you still couldn’t quite bring yourself to open the door.

‘Y/N? I’m starting to get worried, is everything okay?’ Concern laced his voice and you knew he was just trying to be friendly yet still you couldn’t bring yourself to open the door. Instead you tried to find your own voice.

‘No… Steve. It’s not.’ You barely managed to choke the words out but you knew he heard you.

‘Let me in Doll. Let me help you.’ His voice was earnest but still you shook your head.

‘I can’t.’ The words were whispered against the wood. ‘I just… I can’t even think about it.’

‘Doll, you’re really worrying me. Let me in and I’ll help you, I promise.’ Steve’s voice pleaded at you through the door and a part of you longed to open it for him.

‘I’m not decent…’ Even you could tell how feeble your excuse was and it seemed like Steve had had enough.

‘Doll… Open the door or I’ll break it down. I’m really concerned.’ Despite the threat, you knew he was just trying to help you and the thought of not having a door anymore sent a chill down your spine. Not that the door had helped much last night… ‘You have until the count of three. One… Two…’

The door creaked open before Steve could get to three and he relished in the sight before him.

You had your arms wrapped around yourself, as though you thought you could physically hold yourself together and there were dried tear tracks down both your cheeks. Steve had to hide his glee at seeing you so defeated. Now wasn’t the time for gloating, it was the time for comforting.

‘Oh Doll… What on earth happened to you?’ Your eyes were locked on the floor, refusing to meet his as he searched your face. You even recoiled as Steve reached out to cup your chin in his hand. ‘Doll? I need to know what happened.’ Steve tried to make his tone firm yet still comforting, wanting you to feel safe with him.

‘I… Well…’ Steve could tell your words were failing you and now wasn’t the time to push but he so longed to hear you admit it.

‘Doll?’ There was silence for a beat as you thought.

‘My apartment… it was broken into last night.’

‘Oh Doll, I’m so sorry. What did they steal?’

‘I-nothing. At least I think…’ You slowly drifted off, your eyes quickly darting around the small main room.

‘Oh, well then what’d they do? Did you wake up?’

‘No… I only just woke up…’ Your vague answers were starting to annoy Steve. He just wanted to hear you say it.

‘Doll, what aren’t you telling me? I’m trying to help you but I can’t do that if I don’t have all the facts.’

‘No I don’t - I don’t want your help. I’ll just call the cops or something.’

‘Doll,’ he gripped your chin, forcing you to look up at him. ‘I’m an Avenger. I’m here to help. I’ll be far more useful to you than those pigs. I mean… Do you really think they’ll help someone like you? We both know how useless they are and how little they care about anyone but themselves.’ Steve was careful with his word choice. He didn’t want to seem too eager but he also needed to persuade you to confide in him.

‘Plus, the Avengers have far more resources than the NYPD could even dream of. I want to help you and I want to put your fears at ease.’ Steve could almost hear the argument raging in your head. He knew how little you cared for the city’s cops due to past experiences and was gratified when you seemed to come to a decision.

‘Okay, but… Well, it’s not really an Avenger level threat.’

‘I assumed as much Doll. But don’t worry. I’m your friend first and Captain America second. I wont tell the others.’ Looking into his cerulean blue eyes you could see nothing but earnestness and maybe a little excitement at the thought of helping you and so you made up your mind. No matter how embarrassing it was, you would feel better with him helping than some random cop. So you gave a little nod at your ascent which was met by America’s most charming smile.

‘So what happened?’

‘Well… Like I said. My apartment was broken into last night.’ Your eyes were locked on your fingers as you spoke. Not wanting to have to say any more.

‘But they didn’t take anything?’

‘No. I’m pretty sure they didn’t.’

‘So what happened?’ You took a deep breath, trying to prepare yourself for saying it outloud.

‘I… they… When I woke up…’ Your words seemed to be failing you but Steve was determined to wait it out. He was determined to hear you say it. ‘I don’t know how it happened but… they… I was… I was violated.’

‘Violated like…?’ Steve let his question hand in the air.

‘Sexually. They raped me.’

‘They raped you?’ Steve repeated your words back to you as if double checking that he had heard right. You couldn’t help the flinch as if his words alone could physically hurt you but you nodded your head. ‘How?’

Despite yourself you shot him an exasperated look. ‘How do you think? They broke in and they fucked me while - while I was… while I was asleep.’

‘And you didn’t realise?

‘No… At least not really…’ You blanched at your admission, inwardly begging he wouldn’t ask what you meant. But obviously whoever out there didn’t care about what you wanted.

‘What do you mean?’

‘It doesn’t matter.’ You tried to shrug off his question but his eyebrows rose and he locked you in with an unyielding stare. ‘Well… I didn’t notice… at least subconsciously. I had a dream.’

‘A dream?’

‘Yes a dream. But it doesn’t matter like I said.’ Your cheeks flushed with heat at the mere mention of it.

‘And it was sexual?

‘Yes.’

‘Who was it with?’

‘Excuse me?’

‘You might have subconsciously picked up things about your attacker in your dream. It’ll help us narrow the search.’ Steve seemed to sense his misstep and quickly tried to justify it.

‘No. It wasn’t him so it won’t help.’ Steve opened his mouth as if to argue but you steeled yourself with a glare and said in the firmest tone you could manage, ‘it won’t help.’

Steve seemed to sense your resolve and dropped the topic, instead focusing on what had happened. ‘So I guess it happened in your bedroom?’ You nodded and followed him as he crossed the room. ‘So obviously since you were asleep you didn’t really notice anything but what makes you so certain something happened?’

You couldn’t believe he was seriously asking you that. ‘I know something happened because… well when I woke up I could tell and there was… stuff.’ You couldn’t bring yourself to call it what it was.

‘Stuff?’

‘Bodily stuff.’ You urged him to understand and thankfully he did. His mouth dropped into a little ‘oh’.

You watched as Steve walked around your room, occasionally pausing here or there to pick something up and examine it. He didn’t stop until he got to your pillow.

‘Have you seen this?’ He held out a little piece of paper in his hand and you shook your head. ‘Thank you so much for last night baby. I can’t wait to see you again.’ You shuddered as he read it aloud. ‘Have you seen the handwriting before?’

You shook your head as you stared down at the paper. It was completely unfamiliar. ‘That’s okay, I’ll take it to the lab and see if we can get a handwriting match or any fingerprints. But I think perhaps you shouldn’t be staying here anymore. Do you have some friends or family in the city?’

‘Uh no not really. All my family is interstate and I’m pretty new to the city.’

‘It’s no matter. Honestly probably for the best. The Avengers have a series of safe houses, the highest possible security and protection. Maybe you should stay at one of those.’

‘Are you sure that’s really necessary?’

‘Do you want him to come back?’

‘Of course not.’

‘Then yes I’m sure it’s really necessary. We have one upstate, close to the compound that I think will work nicely. Why don’t you pack a bag?’

You packed like a machine, barley even pausing to think. There was no rhyme or reason as to what you were placing in the small weekend bag, anything you could get your hands on. You shoved in a pair of bathers along with your thermals used for snow and then an old hiking shirt.

Steve had left very briefly to make some phone calls and pack a bag of his own but you barely noticed when he returned, a small red bag in his hand. You watched confused as he handed you a little glass tube, a Q-tip inside.

‘Here, I found this in my first-aid kit. I figured you would want to do a test.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘It’s for DNA. I’ll take it to the lab and we’ll see if we can find a match in the system. So if you could allow me to just…’ You quickly caught on as a blush coated Steves cheeks while the blood drained from your own.

‘I can do it.’

‘We can’t let the chain of evidence be in question. If it’s called up in court…’ You shook your head vehemently.

‘Please Steve. I mean, the evidence is already on me. It’s hardly breaking the chain of evidence.’

Steve sighed but nodded you away towards the bathroom and you scrambled away. Your hands shook as you swiped the Q-tip along your folds, trying to get as much DNA as you could on the little head. Revulsion wrecked through you as you decidedly fixed your gaze on the hot water tap on your sink. You analysed how the rust had crept up the side of the handle instead of thinking about what you were doing.

When you were finished you headed back into the bedroom where Steve stood waiting with a glass of water in his hand.

‘The drive should only be a couple of hours and I can drop that off at the compound once you’re at the safe house.’ You nodded and made for your bag, hitching it up over your shoulder.

‘I’m not sure if you’ve thought about it much, but I imagine you probably want to take this.’ He handed a little white pill out to you along with the glass of water. ‘It’s a morning after pill, they come with the rape kit.’

‘Shit, yeah. I hadn’t even thought about that. Fuck that’ll be awful wouldn’t it? Just my luck too.’ You threw the pill back in one swallow and smiled graciously at Steve, not quite realising just how forced his smile had now become.

‘C’mon, let’s get out of here.’ Steve pulled your bag from your shoulder and left the room.

You cast a small once over of the bedroom one last time, not noticing the little Tylenol wrapper in your waste paper bin.

Tags will be added in a reblog

Series Masterlist

My Masterlist

#steve rogers #marvel #mcu #steve rogers x reader #dark!steve #captain america #dark steve rogers #dark captain america #non con

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whereisten · 4 years ago

Text

I Think We’re Alone Now

A Jaemin fic that’s part of our Halloween Series!

Summary: Your Spring Break plans change at the last minute when the campus heartthrob asks you to join him and the popular kids to your nemesis’ cabin.

Pairing: college student! Jaemin x female reader

Genre: romance, angst, mystery, suspense, horror, crime

Word Count: 7.4k

Warnings: Bullying, body image mention, gore, violence, death

(A/N): SHOUTOUT TO MY GIRL KRYS FOR THIS DELICIOUS MOODBOARD. SHE IS AN AMAZING ARTISTE. I AM IN AWE. I hope my story does this moodboard justice and I hope you guys enjoy! Thank you for the support!

___

Spring Break was imminent for the kids of Guang University. It was your freshman year and your friends all had different plans. You planned to stay home and get a head start on your homework and catch up on all of your favorite Korean dramas.

You headed out of the school with Haechan, your best friend. He had plans to go visit his family in South Korea for a couple of days. You were bummed that your closest friend wouldn’t be in town for the break.

“You sure you don’t want to come to Seoul with me? We might bump into Ji Chang Wook. You never know.” Ji Chang Wook was your celebrity crush.

You balanced your giant biology textbook while you tried to find your phone. “That’s tempting but I have a big exam right after break and I’ve been behind for weeks...So now I have to cram.”

Haechan sighed. “Y/n, you need to give yourself some down time.”

You frowned. “What are you talking about?”

Haechan sighed. “You haven’t come out to any parties in the past two months.”

You sighed. “Well...”

Haechan whined. “You’re supposed to be my party buddy...”

“Well, party buddy, then explain Daniela, Hazel, and Ally,” you said, calling out your best friend for not being so lonely at these parties after all.

“I-“ Haechan started.

Before Haechan could explain, a group of girls you’d tried so hard to avoid walked by and “accidentally” bumped into you, making you drop your book to the ground.

The girl who bumped into you turned and laughed. “I’m SO sorry. Maybe if you didn’t take up so much space, it wouldn’t have happened.”

The other girls laughed as they began to saunter off.

You groaned. You thought bullies retired once they graduated from high school when reality finally gave them a slap to the face.

Well, unfortunately for you, the mean girls from your old high school were smart enough to get into your dream school so you now occasionally saw them. And worse, shared a biology lab with them. The head of the pack, Heather, always had it out for you for always beating her for the best grade in class. You’d get a 94 and she’d get a 93. You were just happy to get an A and she was furious she wasn’t number 1. You guessed it had to do with her superiority complex and how she had to please her wealthy parents.

Haechan yelled, “Heather, what the hell-“

Heather started, “What? It’s a simple observation.”

Well, not everyone could be a size 0 like Heather. You knew that you had a healthy body shape. Sure, you know you could use improvements but you were human. No one was perfect. Nothing Heather could say could make you think she was right. She was just a hater.

“Have a nice break, Heather. Maybe your dad will finally come home,” you said as you grabbed Haechan’s hand and walked off.

“Hey! y/n, get back here!” Heather demanded. Her dad and her mom were separated for a while now and he was never home to spend time with his precious daughter.

Heather’s bark had always been bigger than her bite. So you didn’t let her words get to you. Not anymore.

___

Haechan went home while you waited to call an Uber to take you to the record store across town. You may as well go out and do one fun thing before you hunkered down at home for the break.

That was when you heard someone sobbing hard. And you couldn’t help but find the source.

The boy sat down on a bench by the bus stop. It was the campus heartthrob, Na Jaemin. You’d shared a couple of lectures with him this year. He was very sweet, always had something to compliment you on. Your hair, your lipstick, your outfit.

Well, then he would proceed to ask for help with assignments but you appreciated getting paid with flattery.

You frowned. “A-are you okay?” You started. “Do you need help?”

Jaemin looked up as tears ran down his beautifully sculpted face. His eyes widened at the sight of you. He wiped his tears away with his jacket sleeve. He shook his head. “Y/n! Hey, I’m…okay…I just-“

You sat down beside him and pulled an unopened bottle of water out of your backpack. You handed it to him. “Here.”

He looked down at it and asked, “Are you sure?”

You nodded. “Go ahead.”

“Thank you,” he said, managing a half-smile.

He drank from it as you waited.

He exhaled in satisfaction. “Thank you, y/n. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you like this. School and work have been so stressful…I just needed to let it all out.”

You hesitated before you put a hand on his back. You moved it gently against his muscular upper back. “I’m sorry…Do you…wanna talk about it?”

Jaemin froze and debated telling you. “I got fired from my job…” He admitted.

You removed your hand from his back. “Jaemin, that’s terrible…I’m so sorry…What happened?”

He shook his head. “The boss was kinda harsh. I couldn’t take it. I slipped up once and I got the ax.”

You tried to meet his eyes. “I’m so sorry, Jaemin.”

Jaemin managed a smile for you. “Thank you, y/n. You’re always sweet. Always good. I’m glad you’re here with me.” He placed a hand over yours.

This may or may not have made you want to scream with excitement. But your better judgment told you to contain yourself because Jaemin was upset.

Your little moment was interrupted by Heather and her cohorts.

Heather stood in front of Jaemin, noticing his red eyes “Oh, Nana, what’s wrong?”

Jaemin didn’t look all that thrilled to see Heather either. “It’s nothing…Don’t worry about it.”

“Because if y/n is bothering you, she should leave. Isn’t that right, y/n?” Heather turned to you with her hands on her hips.

You were about to snap when Jaemin beat you to it. “Actually, Heather, she’s not. So what can I do for you so you can leave faster?”

Heather looked at her group in shock. Her minions all let out audible gasps and whispers. “Jaemin...”

“I’m waiting,” Jaemin said, a new commanding tone overtaking him.

“We wanted to know if you’re coming to my cabin this weekend.” She tried to come off flirtatious but after his rebuff, she was confused.

“Maybe,” Jaemin replied, “If y/n comes.”

“What?” You and Heather exclaimed.

“I’ll go if y/n goes,” Jaemin said resolutely.

You started, “Jaemin, I-”

Jaemin interrupted. “I need this, y/n. A time to get away. And if you come, I would love it…” He said softly, almost intimately…Like no one else was around.

You’d had a crush on Jaemin since the first day of Intro to Theater. Jaemin was a tremendous actor. He was an excellent Demetrius to your Helena in your act for A Midsummer Night’s Dream.

Jaemin was always so nice. You thought the most he would do for you is give you a dollar for the vending machine. And that would’ve made your heart soar to the moon.

It was odd that you were considering going somewhere to hang out with Heather and her friends...But you did want to get to know Jaemin more.

What about your homework?

Well, it could wait.

And what about Heather?

Well, pissing off Heather was a hobby of yours.

One of Heather’s friends coughed. And Heather rolled her eyes. “Fine. Meet at my house at 7 AM tomorrow.”

___

Your older sister Sophie drove you to Heather’s. “Why are you going to Lucifer's spawn’s cabin?”

You sighed. “Because a cute boy asked me to.”

Sophie put the car in park right in front of Heather’s mansion. She looked at you in disbelief and fascination. “A boy?”

You said, “He wanted me to come.”

Sophie laughed. “Well, y/n, he must be very cute if you’re willing to hang out with Her Royal Darkness.”

“Like her ego, I’m sure the cabin is big enough so I don’t have to see her.”

You were both so distracted that you didn’t notice Jaemin knock on your passenger side window. He smiled brightly. Wow, he looked incredible for someone who woke up and texted you good morning at 5:30 AM.

“Wow,” your sister said, in shock from Jaemin’s beauty. She rolled down your window.

“Ready to go, y/n?” Jaemin asked. You saw the expectant look in his eyes. He was radiant and much more relaxed. You were so happy to see him. He seemed to feel a lot better.

“Jaemin, this is my older sister, Sophie,” you said, “Sophie, this is my friend Jaemin.”

They shook hands and Sophie muttered, “You better tell me everything when you get back. And that I am the maid of honor at your wedding.”

“Bye, Sophie! We’ll go on our run together when I come back on Sunday, okay?” You said louder to deflect from what Jaemin could’ve overheard. You and Sophie ran together every weekend for stress relief and bonding time. You got out of the car and hoped Jaemin hadn’t heard anything.

Jaemin offered to give you a ride on his Jeep Explorer to Heather’s cabin, much to Heather’s disappointment. Heather’s friends were riding with her.

You and Jaemin had fun on the road for two hours, just the two of you. You enjoyed some old school Backstreet Boys, *NSYNC, and Britney Spears. You snagged the CDs from your sister’s collection.

“Every little thing I do never seems enough for you!” You and Jaemin sang.

You too had gotten off the route to get snacks at a convenience store and because Jaemin needed to fill up his tank. He insisted you put your wallet away. He bought all of your favorite junk food essentials: M&Ms, Flamin’ Hot Cheetos, Coke, Orange Fanta. This boy knew his way into your heart.

“So, y/n, what’s your end goal in life?” He asked as he continued the route to Heather’s cabin. “You strike me as an aspiring pediatrician...Saving the children!”

You laughed at his enthusiasm. “I’d like to be a physical therapist. My parents got into a car accident when I was nine...My mom was fine but my dad broke his right leg and right arm. He needed to get physical therapy in order to walk properly again...I went with him to almost all of his appointments. I have a lot of respect for physical therapists after how much they helped him…”

“I’m glad your dad recovered,” Jaemin said as he gave you a quick smile before gluing his eyes back onto the road.

“Me, too...But...my end goal in life? Honestly, I just want my own space to dance around in...With no shame.”

Jaemin chuckled. “No shame, huh? Does that mean you’re a terrible dancer?”

You smacked him. “No. Well, I’m sure there are worse dancers.”

He laughed harder. “Okay...I believe you.”

You laughed. “What about you, Jaemin? What’s your end goal?”

He sighed. “Start up my own content-creating company...I’m into traveling and uncovering hidden gems. Be the next big thing after Buzzfeed Unsolved.”

“Those are some pretty big shoes to fill…” You started.

Jaemin sounded unsure. “Yeah…”

You smiled, “I know you can do it. You’ve got a subscriber in me.”

Jaemin faked a tear. “You have no idea how much that means to me.”

You both laughed again as you reached for the M&Ms and your hands touched. You quickly pulled away, embarrassed. But Jaemin smiled to himself.

Jaemin said, “But as cheesy as it sounds...I want to get married, get a big house, and fill it with twelve children.”

You coughed. “Twelve? Are you and your future wife thinking of splitting the pregnancies up?”

Jaemin laughed. “Okay, maybe not twelve...But a family of my own is my dream. My parents split up when I was five so...I’ve split my time between two homes and it was an awkward feeling, especially after both of my parents remarried.”

“Oh…” You said. You couldn’t exactly sympathize with him because your parents were happily married so you didn’t want to say anything that could rub him the wrong way. That was the last thing you wanted.

“I want to be with that one person...For the rest of my life...When I meet her, I’ll know.” He said, giving you a meaningful look.

You had no idea how to process that so you took a sip of your blue raspberry ICEE and held it in the air, awkwardly. “Here’s to you finding your soulmate someday.”

He chuckled. “Thank you.”

___

You arrived at Heather’s summer home...Well, she called it a cabin. But it was actually a mansion by the beach. It was gorgeous. Something straight out of a movie. It looked like it could be its own hotel resort. You realized that there was a good chance you’d have your own room.

“This house is huge!” You exclaimed.

Jaemin looked along with you as he handed you your bag. “What a shame. I was hoping we would room together.” He said softly into your ear.

You turned to him in shock and he shot you his infamous flirty grin. This boy had you thinking he liked you and he’d better stop before you tried to kiss him.

Heather handed everyone keys to their bedrooms. “If any of you lose this copy, I can’t help you.” She made sure to say that as she handed you your keys.

You went up the stairs of the beach house and chose the last room on the left. You were unlocking the door to your room when someone from behind you tapped you on the shoulder.

“Hey, you’re y/n, right?” You recognized Yangyang from your mandatory PE class. You both took Intermediate Swimming, a class where as long as you flailed in the water and passed the easy quizzes, you’d be guaranteed an A.

You nodded. “And you’re…”

He said, “I’m Yangyang. It’s so nice to see you here!”

“You, too,” you said, averting your eyes once again. Yangyang was pretty attractive and you hoped he didn’t remember you and your Sailor Moon one piece. You always tried to be one of the first in the water and the last to leave when it came to your swimming class.

Even though Heather’s comments were nothing to you, it didn’t mean you were completely immune to the hurt it caused.

“You were in Coach Emerson’s swim class, right? You had the iconic Sailor Moon swimsuit.”

And there went the rest of your hopes and dreams. “Y-yeah…”

He laughed. “Don’t be embarrassed. I had Dragon Ball Z swim trunks.”

“Really?” You said.

Yangyang pretended to be hurt and winced. “I thought you’d be the one to notice.”

“Well...I’m not exactly looking at anyone’s...body…” You said, cringing at your words.

He laughed. “Fair point. I just liked the pattern. Your favorite character is Sailor Mars, right?”

You nodded, “Hell yeah. She’s the best.”

“I’m more of a Sailor Venus guy, myself,” he replied.

“Good taste. But all of the Sailor Scouts are queens,” you started.

“No question,” Yangyang said. “Hey, do you-” His phone started to ring. “Sorry, y/n...I gotta take this.”

You waved goodbye to him and entered your spacious bedroom. As much as Heather despised you and you despised her, her family had excellent taste in real estate. The queen-sized bed was plush like a cloud straight from heaven. You pulled the window up to feel the ocean breeze. It was paradise.

You heard a knock at your door an hour later. It was Jaemin.

“Wanna go for a walk?” He asked.

“Sure!” You said, having already changed into a sundress.

Jaemin thought you looked stunning. Well, you always did. He was so happy to be here with you. Otherwise, he may not have gone on this trip.

Jaemin led you to the beach where you let your toes touch the water. He teased you by splashing you. And you splashed him back until you both were soaked.

You both laughed so hard that you toppled over each other, you on top of Jaemin. You both stared at each other for a long time. Jaemin closed his eyes, his long eyelashes caressing his cheeks. He waited for you to kiss him.

You moved closer and your lips met his. His lips tasted salty thanks to you and your merciless splashing. But the kiss was everything. It was fireworks at the end of a perfect night. It was hot chocolate on a warm winter night. It was like an angel held you and you snuggled against his wings. The kiss was perfect.

You two let go and Jaemin bit his lip. “So.”

You stood there, frozen. “So…”

“So...we did that.”

You nodded. “Indeed we did.”

“Thoughts?” He looked at you with his big brown eyes.

You cleared your throat. “Well...I certainly wouldn’t mind doing that again.”

Jaemin’s big gorgeous goofy smile came back full force at hearing you. He cupped your face in his hands and was about to kiss you again.

“Guys!” Naeun called out to you. “Have you seen Yangyang?”

You and Jaemin pulled yourselves apart. You answered, “Last time I saw him was when he went to his room. Is everything okay?”

“He wasn’t answering his phone...And I found it in his room.” She held up his phone that had a Dragon Ball Z pop socket on the back of it.

You frowned. “That’s weird.”

Jaemin offered. “Maybe he went for a walk. Got some fresh air?”

“Maybe…” Naeun thought and you nodded. “If you see him, tell him I’m looking for him and that I’m pissed.”

“Okay,” you said.

Naeun stomped away, frustrated.

“Now where were-” you started.

Jaemin already pulled you in for another kiss. He pinned you down against the shoreline and trailed your neck with his kisses.

You breathed heavily as you held him tightly.

He looked at you, as if asking you something.

You gave him a look. “What’s up?”

“Do you want to…” His eyes moved down to his pelvic region where his member was protruding through the fabric of his trunks.

Your eyes widened at how big he was. And your eyes nearly popped out of your head when you realized what he was asking. “Oh…”

Jaemin waited for you patiently.

Things were moving too fast. You were more than happy to kiss Jaemin all night but you really weren’t ready to have sex. Not tonight, anyway.

You already knew the answer. “I’m sorry Jaemin. I do like you but...I’m...not ready. I should go…” You got up but Jaemin stopped you. It was like a romantic Korean drama scene, except instead of your wrist ...He grabbed your ankle.

“It’s okay...You don’t have to go. Please don’t go…” He begged as he made a puppy dog pout.

You laughed, relieved. “Okay okay...You can stop making that face.”

Jaemin pouted his lips even more. “What face?”

You rolled your eyes and splashed him. You and Jaemin spent a couple of hours on the beach, kissing and talking. You wrapped up and he walked you to your bedroom.

___

You woke up early the next morning to hear screaming and crying. You got out of bed and ran out the door.

“What’s wrong?” You asked, finding Naeun devastated on the floor. Heather sat down with her on the ground and consoled her.

“Yangyang…” She said between sobs. “He’s gone!”

Renjun looked grave as he handed you his phone. “We all got these messages. Did you, y/n?”

You looked at what was on Renjun’s phone screen and there was a video of Yangyang, bound up and gagged. Tears streamed down his eyes. He mumbled loudly for help.

Tears fell out of your eyes. “What the hell is this?”

You couldn’t believe it. You’d just had a whole conversation with him yesterday. He was friendly and funny…

And now he was like this.

Jaemin replied, “Someone’s idea of a sick joke...I don’t recommend looking at the rest of the story, y/n…”

You ignored him and kept watching. The next video pointed to a wall and you could hear Yangyang clearly now...He was yelling. “No! Who are you? Why are you doing this? Stop! Nooooooo!” The video cut off after that. The last picture was of Yangyang with his throat slit with text that read: “Wonder who will be next...It’s anyone’s guess, really. 🧐 #springbreak2020”

You ran into the bathroom and threw up. The rest of the group followed you into the bathroom. “Well, y/n?” Tzuyu started.

“Well, what?” You asked.

“Show us your phone,” Tzuyu demanded.

“Why?” You asked.

Jaemin intervened, “Why are you guys ganging up on her?”

“We’ve checked everyone’s phones...Now we want to see y/n’s,” Tzuyu said, a vindictive look in her eyes.

“Fine,” you said. You pulled it out of your pocket and you were shocked to find the messages on your phone.

“Someone sent them to her, too. She’s as innocent as the rest of us,” Renjun said.

Tzuyu frowned. “Okay…”

She seemed disappointed that you weren’t the culprit. You wondered why Tzuyu hated you. She was merely one of Heather’s followers so you guessed she would hate anyone Heather hated no matter what.

Still, this didn’t alleviate any of your worries. Someone kidnapped and murdered Yangyang overnight. And whoever that was remained close by.

And they weren’t finished.

Unfortunately for all of you, your cell reception was weak so you couldn’t contact the police. You were on the verge of a panic attack.

Renjun decided, “We should try going to the next town to get reception.”

Tzuyu started, “You are not leaving me here.”

“Fine, we’ll go together.” He said as they both walked off and borrowed Heather’s car.

___

You sat in the living room, scared to be in your room all alone. Hell, you didn’t mind being with Heather and Naeun. Jaemin was making lunch in the kitchen for you guys.

It had been a few hours since Renjun and Tzuyu left. Now you were all getting worried. The next town wasn’t that far off, according to Heather. So something was up.

And you wondered if it had been a good idea for them to leave. Maybe they had been just as much in danger as the rest of you. Whoever the killer was...He had resources to be anywhere at any time. It gave you shivers.

“Y/n, can you get Naeun a glass of water?” Heather asked you.

You nodded and met Jaemin in the kitchen. You asked him once again, “Are you sure I can’t help with anything?”

Jaemin shook his head. “I’ve got this.” He said as he finished making lasagna.

You got a glass of water for Naeun. “Jaemin, I’m scared,” you said.

Jaemin looked rattled up, too, but he seemed to be holding it together for the rest of you. And it meant a lot to you.

The four of you sat down to eat quietly. Naeun barely took a bite of her lasagna.

Not too long after, she started wheezing. Hives broke out onto her skin. “Epi...Pen...Heather.”

Heather jumped out of her seat. “I’ll go get it!”

“Oh God,” you panicked. “You need air! Let’s go outside, Naeun.”

You and Jaemin helped her out to the front door so she can breathe better. You were praying Heather found her EpiPen soon.

Heather returned, upset, “Are you sure it’s in your purse? I couldn’t find it.”

Naeun nodded. “Yes…”

When you realized Naeun’s EpiPen was missing, you ran up to your room and grabbed yours. “I brought mine!”

“Hurry up!” Heather said.

You ran back down and Naeun was able to get the injection she needed to recover from her reaction.

Heather took Naeun up to her room to recover.

“I wonder what Naeun was allergic to…” You said to Jaemin.

Jaemin frowned. “I don’t know...I had no idea she had severe allergies. Maybe it was in one of the ingredients but I’m not sure which one…God, I feel terrible.” He put his face in his hands.

“Hey, it’s okay...It was an accident...She’ll be okay,” you said as you hugged him.

“It was a good thing you had your EpiPen, y/n...You’re amazing…”

“Or I just have severe allergies, too,” you said.

He laughed awkwardly. “Right…”

Even more hours passed. Renjun and Tzuyu haven’t returned. Everyone was antsy.

You and Jaemin were going to go out and look for them but you were shocked to find his tires had been slit recently.

This wasn’t a coincidence. The killer was watching your every move. You wondered if he had gotten to Renjun and Tzuyu. Your throat dried up at just thinking that.

You and Heather grabbed weapons from her father’s shed, which included gardening shears and hunting rifles.

Heather taught you how to handle the rifle. You both went back into the house with your weapons in tow. You all made sure to shut all of the windows and close all of the doors. You scoured the entire property. No one can come in. And no could come out. You hoped there wasn’t some random secret entrance to this house that rich people always seemed to have in the movies. You all reluctantly headed to bed.

You sat up on the edge of your bed. You were comfortable in a concert tee and some shorts. You wanted to wear something that would be easy to run in. Just in case the killer would come for you next.

Jaemin was at your door. “Hey…Heather and Naeun both fell asleep.”

“How can they be asleep...I can’t sleep knowing that that bastard is out there…” You said.

Jaemin walked into the room. “Can I sit with you?”

You nodded. “Jaemin, what are we going to do...We can’t just stay here. We're sitting ducks. Renjun and Tzuyu are just gone...And we don’t know when or even if they're coming back…”

Jaemin rubbed your back in small circles. His touch was distracting. Kissing Jaemin would be a great distraction.

Making love to him would be even better.

That would be ridiculous. The last thing you wanted to do was have sex when a murderer was afoot. That would be a total cliche.

Jaemin replied. “I’m sorry, y/n...I think our best bet is to wait it out until morning and go to the next town on foot.”

You nodded. “Yeah...Maybe daytime will be safer.”

Jaemin nodded. “Why don’t you go to sleep and I’ll take the first shift?”

“Really?” You asked.

“Yeah, I’m wired. I had three cups of coffee in the past hour. You need to rest, y/n.” Jaemin said as he pulled the covers over you. “I’ll come back to wake you. I’ll be on guard.” He grabbed one of the hunting rifles he left outside the door.

“Thank you,” you said as you shut your eyes. Sleep quickly took over.

___

You were quickly shaken awake. “Y/n get the fuck up!” Heather hissed.

“Heather?” You exclaimed.

She shushed you. “Shut up. You need to come with me right now.”

“What’s wrong?” You whispered.

Heather made sure your door was locked before she returned back to you. “Naeun is dead.”

You looked carefully at Heather and had seen that she’d been crying. “What?” You asked. “That’s impossible.”

“We shouldn’t have left her alone. She said she was fine. She seemed fine. I went to check on her and...she wasn’t breathing. And...I think she was smothered, y/n.”

“Wait...Are you saying…”

“The killer is Jaemin,” Heather said.

“What? Why would you say that?” You shook your head.

“Think about it, y/n. None of us has good reception here so how is that we got those texts about Yangyang? The killer had to be in close proximity to us. Tzuyu and Renjun left in my car, which he probably messed with so they got into an accident...And...I don’t even want to say what could’ve happened...Whatever Jaemin put in the lasagna almost killed Naeun. Then, her EpiPen fucking disappeared. And then, conveniently right after, his tires were slit. And now, since he couldn’t finish the job the first time, he smothered Naeun to death.”

“Heather...Jaemin wouldn’t…” You started.

“I know...I had my doubts, too, but...he gave me some calming tea before I went to sleep...When it cooled down, I tested it...It’s been drugged.”

Your heart sank. “How do you know?”

“My dad’s company is working with the nail polish that can track date rape drugs. My painted nail changed color when I tested it out. Jaemin tried to drug me, y/n…” She showed you her neon green polish and the one fingernail that turned black.

You covered your hand over your mouth.

“I had a feeling he would come check up on me so I tossed some of the tea down the drain and pretended I was asleep. He came back to check that I was asleep, y/n...That’s just creepy. Why the hell would he need to drug me?”

Not knowing how to answer, you started, “Heather...Maybe…”

Jaemin surprised you both by breaking the wood of the door down with an ax. He made a big enough hole to unlock the door from the inside.

You and Heather yelled. Jaemin heard everything.

Jaemin started. “Heather, why are you up? I thought I was going to take care of you tomorrow in my grand finale…”

“Shit,” Heather said as she got closer to you.

“Jaemin? What grand finale?” You demanded. “What is going on?”

Jaemin smiled wide at you. “Sweetheart, I thought I told you to sleep.”

The look in Jaemin’s eyes became cold...Calculating.

“y/n...It’s no accident that I asked for you to come on this trip…” Jaemin said as he pulled a knife out of his pocket and twirled it around his hand. “I thought you’d partake in the festivities…”

“What festivities?” Heather demanded. “Why the fuck did you try to drug me? Why did you kill Naeun? What the hell did she do to you?”

Jaemin tsked as he met Heather’s eyes. “Why wouldn’t I kill Naeun? Why wouldn’t I kill them all? Think about it, you ungrateful little brat.”

You found yourself moving closer to Heather then for she was your only living ally. Albeit the biggest bitch in the land.

Jaemin killed everyone.

Jaemin was the killer.

Heather shook her head. “Jaemin, stay the fuck away from us. I swear to God. Or I’ll-”

Jaemin chuckled. “You’ll what? Call Daddy? Call Mommy? They’re both abroad, never giving a second thought about their spoiled daughter...Those two think you couldn’t be safer and more comfortable…It’s ridiculous...A girl who has everything...Takes it upon herself to put others down...You’ve put y/n down for years...You’ve never let go your childish and petty hatred for her...And for what reason?”

Heather’s resolve faded when she realized what you had.

“Jaemin…” You started.

“Y/n, did you not realize that each person on this trip has fucked with you one way or another?” He asked.

Well, the girls were bitches, yes, but…

“Naeun was the one who spread that rumor about you getting your breast implants...Tzuyu was the one who nearly ran you over in the student parking lot...Renjun body shamed you in the boys’ locker room...And Yangyang told us all that he wanted to take your virginity this weekend…”

“Jaemin!” Heather exclaimed.

“You should’ve been careful with who you added in your group chat full of morons, Heather....Ah, and Heather, dear...you’re the ringleader in all of this...You goaded Naeun and Tzuyu to do these things to y/n. You’ve set out to put y/n down for a long time now. You even went along with Renjun and Yangyang’s comments about y/n’s body...Fuck you, by the way, she’s perfect in every way...And I should’ve made them all go through slower...more painful deaths for all of the things you said about her...”

You couldn’t believe what you were hearing. You had no idea that even boys were targeting you...First off, you literally just breathed. The girls were childish and petty but…

“Jaemin,” you said.

“Yes, sweetheart?” Jaemin asked with a kinder smile to you.

“What they all did to me was wrong...But you didn’t have to…”

Jaemin’s eyes widened. “Kill them? Well, it wasn’t up to you...All of these people are worthless scum that won’t amount to much, honestly….So was it really a waste?”

Heather surprised you by pulling a handgun out of her pocket. She shot Jaemin in the chest. “y/n, let’s go!” She pulled you out of the bed and you both ran for your lives.

“Agh!” Jaemin groaned as he fell to the ground.

You both ran down the stairs. Heather unlocked the front door, knowing the house was no longer safe.

You both ran down the steps of the entrance. You had to pull Heather with you because she ran too slow for you. Then, you heard a gunshot.” Heather fell down. She’d been shot in the foot. “Fuck!” She yelled.

You turned to see Jaemin at the entrance with a hunting rifle. “Bulletproof vest, baby!”

You yelled as you tried to help Heather up.

Jaemin asked, genuinely confused. “Y/n, why are you running? This has nothing to do with you.”

You gaped. “Are you kidding me? Apparently, this has everything to do with me…Jaemin put the gun down! Please stop!”

Jaemin shook his head. “Out of the question, sweetheart. You’d be smart to leave Heather to me.”

Heather began to cry. “No…”

You wrapped Heather’s arm around you and both walked off. Heather winced with pain but she could manage as you kept running. Jaemin was getting closer and closer. He waited, then.

You and Heather were confused. Why did he stop running?

You and Heather both walked over a bear traps you both hadn’t seen.

You yelped in pain and Heather cried out, “Son of a bitch!”

It hurt for both of you to move an inch. You both cried.

Jaemin made his way over, using a flashlight. He sighed. “Y/n, you should’ve stopped running. Now you’ve your beautiful ankle...Well, it’s no big deal...I can disinfect it and patch it up nicely for you...After I’m done with Heather.”

“Jaemin, no, please stop. You don’t have to do this. I don’t want you to do this. That’s enough!” You pleaded.

At the sound of your last two words, Jaemin froze. The words brought him back to when he was a kid and he would pummel other children for bullying his younger siblings. His parents would beg him to stop. It was too bad that their words didn’t stick. And your words were no different.

Jaemin sighed. “I’m sorry, y/n…” He whacked the back of his gun over your head so you blacked out.

___

Heather had also been knocked out. She awoke to being tied up and sitting in the hot tub beside the Olympic sized swimming pool in the backyard. She noted that bricks were tied around her ankles. As she tried to pull herself up, it was impossible for her to get out.

Jaemin smiled wickedly as he wielded the thermostat. “You’ve always prided yourself on being the hottest girl at our college...Why don’t we put that to the test?”

“Jaemin, please stop! I am so sorry!” She cried. “Please don’t do this! I messed up! I...I’ve always been jealous of y/n! Because she was the one who had everything. The perfect family. The perfect grades. The perfect body. Everything about her is so damn effortless that I hated it.” She hoped that pouring her soul out to him might make him change his mind.

“Oh, boohoo…” Jaemin said as he increased the heat.

Heather grew uncomfortable. “Jaemin...Stop...Please...It’s too hot…”

Jaemin sighed. “Goodbye Heather…”

___

You slowly woke up seated on the passenger side of Jaemin’s Jeep. Your eyes quickly opened when you realized that. You jerked awake and found Jaemin in the driver’s seat, calm and composed. “I think we’re alone now...”

You backed up against your window. “Jaemin! Where is Heather?”

“Oh, she’s tied up at the moment...In the hot tub...She is indeed the hottest girl from our college now…” Jaemin said, a chuckle escaping his lips at his pun.

You were about to be sick. You pulled the window and vomited. You tried moving by the gash from the bear trap made you wince and groan in pain.

“Oh, y/n...I didn’t mean for you to get hurt...You couldn’t help it, though. Wanting to help that brat till the end...Because you see the good in people...You are simply too pure.”

“Jaemin...Where are we going?”

“To the next town...Where we will report a murderer that broke into Heather’s summer home…”

You looked at him in disbelief. Surely, he wouldn't turn himself in.

“The murderer is at large and we narrowly escaped, y/n...I got you out of the bear trap and we were able to get away in my car…”

You shook your head. “Jaemin, no...They’ll never believe you...”

Jaemin shocked you by breaking down the same way he had the day before you left for the trip. “Officers, please h-help us. Our friends are gone!”

You looked at him in disbelief. Did he fake crying before?

Well, you did think he was a tremendous actor. You just didn’t know how right you were.

“Jaemin, this is wrong…” You started.

He sighed. “Y/n...you worry too much...Now your life will be brighter...It’ll be perfect now. Perfect for the perfect girl…”

You contemplated how the hell you could get away from Jaemin. Your options were limited as he’d taken your phone. You couldn’t exactly run that far but you could find a way to slow him down. You noticed Heather’s car off the side of the road. It’d rammed into a tree. Jaemin must have tampered with Heather’s car, you realized. He did admit to having a hand in their disappearance, after all.

You thought fast and with all of your strength you moved over to Jaemin’s side and turned the wheel so the car collided into the trees.

The impact was intense but you’d dodged most of the impact. Jaemin laid next to you, unconscious and bleeding.

You limped out of the car and checked Heather’s car. As you feared, Renjun and Tzuyu died from the impact. It was a gruesome sight. They dealt with blunt trauma. Their heads were draining blood. You nearly puked again.

Before you broke down in tears, you thought fast and remembered Renjun and Tzuyu smoked. You rummaged through the glove compartment for a weapon or a phone...You came up short with Renjun’s lighter. Tzuyu’s phone had some battery left. The reception was low so you had to find a way to get to the next town to get reception.

So now what the hell were you going to do, you weren’t going to light a car up on fire...And burn the evidence that was once Tzuyu and Renjun.

You noticed the gas leak that came from under the car. You got under the hood of Heather’s car and found the gasoline tank leaking. You grabbed an empty Starbucks cup from the front seat and let the gasoline slip in.

___

You ran, not getting very far when Jaemin called out to you. He was able to walk normally and he was quickly catching up to you.

“Y/n! Sweetheart! Where are you going? Without me...” Jaemin called out.

You turned quickly and found he walked over to you with an ax.

“Fuck off, Jaemin!” You said, realizing he was just as capable of killing you.

“Sweetheart, let’s just talk about this...I did this all for you...Because I love you...I want to make you happy. I want to marry you. Have twelve children...Ah, yes, you said twelve may be excessive...How does eleven kids sound?”

You rolled your eyes. He was fucking insane. You decided to provoke him. “What makes you think I would marry a deranged killer?”

Jaemin’s face was unreadable then. You hid the cup of gasoline away in your sweater. Pretending you've injured your arm so Jaemin wouldn’t be the wiser.

“Y/n, please…”

You entertained him by turning around.

“What, Jaemin? How could you possibly convince me that anything you did was okay?”

“If you let me try…” Jaemin started. He got closer to you.

You waited for him to get closer and quickly doused him with the gasoline.

Jaemin coughed as some of the gasoline got in his mouth. “y/n, what are you-”

“Goodbye, Jaemin.” You ignited Renjun’s lighter and tossed it at him.

Jaemin clothes caught on fire. He yelled in agony as you watched him struggle. He threw the axe at you but he missed. You cried as you went back to Jaemin’s car and started up the ignition. Thank goodness, it still worked.

Jaemin immediately removed his clothes to remove himself from most of the flames and patted himself down. He immediately charged at you as you backed the car up from the tree.

You didn’t think twice as you ran him over. Checking the rearview mirror and seeing the job hadn’t been completed, you reversed the car and ran him over again.

You waited ten minutes to see that Jaemin was dead. You got out of the car and kicked his body to check for any movement. You got his heavy, lifeless body into the car with you. You checked his pulse again. He was dead. You checked multiple times because once again, you weren’t about to become a movie cliche.

You made it to the next town and reported Jaemin’s murders and how you killed him in self-defense. You explained your weekend of terror and you were at the station all week for questioning. Your family joined you and consoled you as you told them all you knew.

The police scoured the mansion. They found Yangyang’s body in the pool house, beaten to a bloody pulp. They found Naeun’s body in her bed, like she’d been in perpetual slumber. They found Heather’s body in the hot tub, wrinkled and burnt. They found Heather’s car where Tzuyu and Renjun’s bodies remained.

Jaemin told you the truth. He worked part-time at hardware store. He had been fired that day for snapping at one of the customer’s who was berating his wife. Before Jaemin left, he stole an ax. He really did get the ax, like he’d told you.

It turned out Jaemin tampered with the reception at Heather’s house and because her house was already remote...Jaemin was able to use that to his advantage. He used the last of the reception before he cut it off to send the texts about Yangyang from a burner phone, which was uncovered in his Jeep. Yangyang’s phone was unlocked and the police uncovered his messages that were supposedly from his dealer, who he scheduled to meet with the night he disappeared. It turned out Jaemin hacked into the dealer’s phone to get Yangyang right where he wanted him. Jaemin did indeed tamper with the wires of Heather’s car so Tzuyu and Renjun’s fates were sealed. The leftover lasagna Jaemin had prepared was analyzed and there were traces of crushed peanuts in the lasagna. Naeun had a severe peanut allergy. Naeun’s EpiPen was found with Jaemin’s other belongings. When you’d saved Naeun with your EpiPen, Jaemin took it upon himself to smother Naeun with a pillow in her sleep. Jaemin had planted bear traps around the front lawn, which was how he caught you and Heather. Heather died from heat exhaustion in the hot tub as she was tied up and restrained with bricks tied around her ankles. Jaemin had done all of this with gloved hands so no trace of his DNA could be found at the crime scenes. If it hadn’t been for the evidence he’d hidden in his car, then the case would’ve been more difficult to resolve.

Jaemin’s body was recovered at the crime scene. Thankfully, he was not a movie cliche where he up and left and awaited his next victim. He was dead to the world and most importantly, dead to you.

[Fin]

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