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queenie-official · 5 months

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Chapter Fourteen: ‘Distractions’ Bridgerton Au!Anakin

part 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13

a/n: first of all i would like to say a big thank you to all of you 🙌 you’ve gotten me to 300+ followers 🥹 i wanted to get this out sooner as a treat but i knew it’d be much more of a gift if i waited and put all my focus into this💋 that being said this chapter has smut 👀

one would think with three heads working on all the preparations to be done for the big day it would be fast. you quickly realized how wrong that thought was, so much to be done in such a short amount of time. you probably would of had more time had you not spent so long avoiding the problem and pushing people away but you tried your best not to dwell on something you could no longer change. No you had much more pressing matters to attend to like planning a ball and a race. oh and figuring out what to do with the now former members of the royal court who’d betrayed the kingdom.

the simple solution would be off with their heads- a solution you secretly favored, it seemed right to you. an eye for an eye kind of deal, and they did kill your father. unfortunately it was your father who’d put an end to the death penalty and to bring it back for the death of a monarch- the same monarch who spoke of his people as equals, would suggest that his murder weighed more than if someone of the Ton was murdered and their killer was caught.

which in a way his death did weigh far more but that wouldn’t make it any less of a scandal in the eyes of the people. not to mention Lady whistledown would have a field day, she was quickly becoming one of the number one tabloids for all of the hottest news. it would be easier to look over if everything she wrote wasn’t true in a sense.

so now you’re stuck with the choice of damaging Alderaan’s image, one of peace and equality or resurrecting the old image of Alderaan your father fought to change. the Clock was ticking and everyone was watching, waiting for the next course of action. to simply throw them in a prison didn’t feel severe enough for the crime that was committed, personal bias or not they killed a king.

to distract yourself from the passing time you focused your energy into working on the ball with Padme. was it working? not at all but you liked to pretend it brought you at least some piece of mind. picking out color themes and what food was to be served, you ended up consulting Anakin quite a lot to your surprise- not because he had good taste in decorating but mostly because he’d attended enough balls in Tatooine to provide you with an idea of certain differences you could possibly include.

your goal was to find a way to intertwine both Tatooine ball traditions and Alderaan ball traditions. that was the whole point of hosting the Tatooine races in Alderaan to begin with, to unite the two kingdoms and become closer ally’s outside of a simple marriage arrangement- and of course showing them that all was well. the new king still lived and what happened in the past was not affecting the current.

you’d already written to Anakin’s parents to flesh out the details, and as it so happens they would all be coming to both view the races and join in the ball. so yes maybe you also wanted to impress them, and make them feel more welcomed. this would be the first time your meeting his father and sister after all. although you weren’t really scared of meeting his father at all, it was his sister you worried about.

you knew from what Anakin told you before that she was a good person, but you also knew from what he’d told you that she wasn’t exactly keen on you yet. that was an added pressure for the day to come, but Anakin repeatedly assured you that Ahsoka would go easy on you. which to be honest did not do that much to ease your mind but as he put it you’ve done nothing wrong and shouldn’t have reason to worry. which of course is easy for him to say as he knew the full story whereas you weren’t even sure Ahsoka knew you weren’t the one who made the arrangement to marry him.

the only thing you didn’t technically have to worry about was the races, Anakin was handling all of that himself- occasionally consulting you when needed. that of course didn’t stop your mind from thinking something might got wrong. Anxieties plagued your mind more often than not.

it was late as you found yourself mindlessly tracing circles on the desk in your new study- you couldn’t bring yourself to step back into your father’s after everything that happened, it was too much. you found grief strange in that way, what once brought you comfort as if it were a piece of him left behind was now tainted with the stains of a previously unknown tragedy. even looking at the door of it evoked a heart wrenching emotion from you. “you seem stressed” Anakin’s voice pulls you from all of the thoughts in your mind, looking up at him from where you’re sat as he enters the study closing the doors behind him.

had he even knocked? you weren’t entirely sure but even if he had you doubt you’d have heard him. “how can i not be” you huff letting out a small sarcastic chuckle before leaning into the palm of your hand, watching him as he now rounds the corner of your desk.

standing behind you he places his hands onto your shoulders, gently massaging the exposed skin. the robe that had covered them was resting on the back of the chair, you’d gotten hot with it on and didn’t think anybody would be up late enough to see you in just your nightgown. “well maybe i could help?” he offers his voice raspy from sleepiness. it brought a chill to your spin, your skin prickling with goosebumps.

“how could you possibly help?” to the defense of your oblivious nature, it truly was late in the night and you really weren’t thinking straight. your question doesn’t go unanswered even though he laughs, leaning down so that his face was at the crook of your neck.

warm breath fanning over you as he speaks “well i am your husband there’s quite a few ways i could help, the one i have in mind however could also serve as a nice distraction.” you feel your face heat up as you realize what he’s hinting at, you find yourself unsure of what to say or do.

he places a soft kiss to your neck as he waits patiently for you to react. turning in your seat to face him completely as he stares down at you, the look in his eyes making you burn. the usual pale blues swallowed by blown pupils, he was being completely serious and you felt your stomach swirl.

as a women you aren’t entirely taught as to what happens in the bedroom- society often shuns it, though thankfully for you Padme had given you a brief rundown as to what happens so you weren’t entirely left in the dark. an explanation however never translates to how it’ll truly feel, what you where currently experiencing for example was entirely new and barely anything had happened yet. it was strange but you felt thrilled in a way, excited for what could possibly come and also nervous. a very odd combination, but as the silence dragged on and the look in Anakin’s eyes burned hotter you felt your mind run blank ready to allow him to guide you completely in this moment through each new feeling.

you give him a soft nod that makes him smile, taking your hand into his and gently tugging you to your feet. “let’s take this to a more comfortable place then” he keeps hold of your hand as you walk out of the study and down the halls towards your bedroom, mindlessly rubbing circles with the rough pad of his thumb. it was silent in the castle, all of the servants sleeping.

the only thing you could really hear was the sound of your own heart pounding in your chest the closer you got to the room, you started to grow nervous again and you could only hope Anakin hadn’t noticed. ever the intuitive person the second he turns to you as you enter the room and the door closes he notices immediately. “you alright?” he asks concerned, cradling the side of your face with one of his hands.

you nod whilst leaning into his touch, he stares at you for a moment in deep thought before he speaks up again. “y/n if we’re going to do this i’m going to need you to use your words okay?” he phrased it as a question but you could tell by the tone of his voice it was a command. “okay” the response came out quieter then you’d meant, you couldn’t bring yourself to speak up though.

feeling shy from the intensity of his stare and power behind his words. “do you trust me?” he asks with a tilt of his head, moving his hand down to the base of your neck.

“this is my first time-”

he cuts you off with a chuckle “that’s not what i asked.” there’s a brief silence before you answer “i trust you Anakin.”

his eyes trail down to your lips as the words leave your mouth. “have you ever thought about it?” the question makes your face burn again, had you thought about it before? maybe a little, mostly out of curiosity. since marrying him however, well you’d be lying if you said you haven’t thought about it more often than you should.

“is it going to hurt?” you dodge his question with one of your own, his gaze returns to your eyes.

“not if i do it right.” not entirely promising in your mind, did he know how to do it right? you had to fight the urge to ask that question out loud. “we’ll take it slow” he uses his free hand to bring your hand to his lips, placing a gentle kiss to the tips of your fingers. “you say you trust me, so don’t worry so much. i’ll take care of you” he adds to further reassure you, you let out a soft breath as he finally pulls you closer to him. his lips now hovering above yours “i’ve got you” he closes the gap between you both, kissing you soft and with purpose. showing you just how much he cares.

it’s slow at first, his thumb subtly tracing your jaw as you relax into his arms. that’s when it picks up, he sucks your bottom lip as he moves both his hands down to your waist pulling you flush against him.

your whole body ached for him, you couldn’t resist threading your fingers through his hair. tugging slightly on the soft curls causing him to let out a low hum of delight. guiding you towards your bed with his body, never breaking the kiss until you fall back onto the bed. panting as you catch your breath before he crawls on top of you, kissing your lips again before trailing kisses down your jawline and to your neck.

tilting your head so he has more access when he kisses the delicate skin. opening his mouth and sucking gently, the feeling makes you mewl and you can feel him smile before trailing back up to your face. he looks down to your chest, reaching up to the strings of your nightgown before looking back up to you silently asking for permission to continue. “please..”

the plea seemed to spur him on, quickly pulling the strings loose and removing the gown entirely leaving you in just your underwear. your body on full display for him, he looked over you. soaking in every detail, you thought you’d shy away from his gaze but the way he was staring. like you were the most beautiful person he’d ever laid eyes on, but then the look on his eyes changed to hunger. it made you squirm, and he couldn’t help but groan at the sight. “you don’t know what you do to me” he says in a low growl that sends heat straight to your core.

“Ani-” he cuts you off with a open mouth kiss to your right breast causing you to gasp. the sound doesn’t go unnoticed by him as he sucks gently, leaving a small hickey before kissing down your stomach stopping just above your navel.

“Are you ready for this?” he asks while looking up at you, lips swollen from kissing all over you. he looked ethereal. “we can stop at anytime.” he quickly added, wanting to make sure you felt comfortable and safe as he hooked his fingers over your underwear waiting for your answer before he pulled them down.

"I am yours to do as you please." you answer in a sudden burst of confidence, he liked that answer. pulling your underwear off with a fervor "You'll be the end of me." he mumbles as he lowers his face between your legs, gently pushing them open and taking a good look at you. he moaned at the sight. your legs spread, thighs wet with arousal that dripped down showing just how much his actions affected you.

he didn’t hesitate to dive right in, licking up the mess he’d caused. the feeling had your head spinning, an intimacy you never felt before. so passionate and pleasurable, and he was skilled.

moaning into you, sending vibrations in all the right places as his nose nudged your clit with each movement. your hands gripping the bed sheets from how intense the feeling was, moan after moan slipping out of your own mouth that just made him groan more.

it wasn’t long before he deemed you ready enough for one of his fingers, slipping it inside of you slowly not stopping until he was knuckle deep. it didn’t hurt but it felt old at first, your body adjusted quickly as he moved it. you must not have given him the reaction he wanted because he added a second finger about a moment later making you gasp. both fingers now pumping in and out of you and they reached so deliciously deep inside.

you were completely lost at this point, head growing foggier with every passing moment. you hadn’t even realized what was happening until you felt the wave crash over you. he worked you through it, before carefully pulling his fingers out.

you open your eyes panting as he moves back overtop of you, face wet with your slick. the sight alone works you back up again. he leans forward, resting his forehead against yours as he catches his own breath. “You’re doing so well.” he says softly before kissing you on the lips, he didn’t start off slow this time- instead kissing you passionately and groping your breasts.

you moan against him and he takes the opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth, subconsciously beginning to arch into him. everything he did was driving you crazy in the best way, and you couldn’t help but want more. you tug on his shirt causing him to pull away from you, a string of saliva keeping you connected. “want to see you to Ani” you practically whine at him.

he’s quick to remove his sleep shirt as well as the pants he’d half hazardly tossed on when he initially went to wonder the castle leaving him solely in his underwear just as you’d been.

he gives you a moment to take him in before he finishes, you can feel him watch as you trail your eyes down his body. paying extra attention to how toned he was and the way his tanned skin seemed to only glow warmer in the candle light. god he was beautiful in every sense of the word.

“you can touch me too you know, i am yours as much as you are mine.” his statement snaps you out of your daze, looking up into his eyes with a light blush on your face. he gives you a smile, always teasing you any chance he can get. you don’t try to resist his offer though, reaching out and placing your palms against his chest. caressing his abs before testing out the waters and running your nails against him. he shuttered at the feeling, his bulge becoming a bit more obvious when you notice it twitch.

to say it escalated quickly from there would be an understatement, you didn’t even have time to process him take off his underwear before he was spreading your legs and lining himself up. “i’m going to go slow okay, if it hurts i need you to tell me okay sweetheart?” the sweetness of his words helped ease your mind.

“okay” you breath out a bit nervously before he begins to push in. the stretch of him stings, not painfully so thankfully. but it was still odd, not as odd as him being inside of you. the feeling was foreign but with each inch he sunk in further the feeling began to stir into something else.

both of you moan out once he was fully inside you, filling you up in all the right ways. you can tell he’s holding back as he looks down at you, brows creased in focus. “you doing alright pretty girl?” the nickname makes you burn, that familiar warmth going straight to your core. you nod, finding words difficult from how flustered you are.

“come on, remember what i said? you gotta use your words” he gently reminds you, cradling your face with one of his hands and gently running his thumb over your bottom lip. you wrap your legs around his waist shifting slightly to get more comfortable, the movement making you both groan.

“doing alright Ani, want you to move please.” you say with a slight pout and you feel him twitch inside of you.

he doesn’t hesitate to move after that, beginning to pump in and out of you slowly. taking his time with you, he was doing it that way for your sake but god was it practically torture. teasing you with what’s to come and when one of his hands travels down slowly tracing circles around your clit, you can’t take it anymore.

“Anakin Please, move faster” you beg, small whimpers escaping your lips in between each word. you claw at his back as he begins to pick up the pace. your eyes fall shut as the pleasure takes over, forcing yourself to take in gasps of air in between breathless moans.

"Don't close your eyes. Look at me." he demands, snapping his hips roughly. you force your eyes open doing your best to maintain eye contact as he pounds into you, bringing you closer to a second climax with each thrust. “That’s it, taking me so good sweetheart” he coos into your ear, you felt like you could cry from the pure bliss you were in. his words making your whole body flush, burning from his praise and the newfound pet names.

Anakin grabs one of your thighs pulling your leg up higher and adjusting the position your in so that he’s going even deeper, the new depth making you see white. you could feel it building this time, the familiar wave growing closer.

Anakin’s voice rasping out a string of praises, practically babbling in your ear as he grows close as well. “let go for me” that was the final push you needed for the cord to snap, your body spasming beneath him. it took you a moment to register the added feeling of his cum pouring into you. the warmth coating your insides and spilling out as he fills you up.

panting as you tried to catch your breath. he waited for you to calm down before pulling out. then he laid himself down beside you and pulled you into his arms.

you could feel how fast his heart was beating in his own chest from the exertion, your own heart beating in a similar fashion. slowly you found your thoughts again, processing the new milestone you shared as you breath him in.

Anakin kisses the top of your head before moving down and burrowing himself into the crook of your neck. “I love you y/n” he whispered against you, not wanting to raise his voice in fear of breaking the quite intimacy of the moment.

you run your fingers through his sweaty hair, scratching lightly at his scalp and feel him relax against you. “i love you too Ani”

it was safe to say he’d done what he’d set out to do. all the stress from your body was gone as you lay together, a mess of limbs.

part 15

Tag list: @luvvfromme @gatekeepingirlboss @bimbo-baggins86 @iluvanakinskywalker @bby-imasociopath @curlycarley @burnthecheshirewitch @misscaller06 @sweetcheesecakesblog

okay a few things- first off this is my first time ever writing smut so i hope it doesn’t disappoint 😭 (it’s lowkey been eating me alive that i’d completely fail writing it) another thing i know i said chapter 14 was going to be big with all the stuff in one go but it was getting way to long for one chapter imo, so i decided to break it up into different parts. but don’t worry because i will be posting all these parts simultaneously so don’t worry the next part will be up in a few minutes (about 10-15 since i want to space them out) 💋💋 i hope you lovies enjoy 🫶🏼

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hunterxhell · 5 months

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Did you hear togashi's talk about potential ending and the discarded ending d? People are freaking out over ending d because he made a joke about it being the ending if he dies, even though togashi only said what it was since he discarded it.

omg i have so many messages about this, so sorry for responding to everyone so late!

first i was waiting for the actual video of the talk show to come out because i didn't understand how a leak of a talk show could exist but somehow the leak was real lol. i think i've seen full transcripts posted but i don't have links at the moment. i'm sure it's on the hxh subreddit or something.

i've seen lots of people freaking out over this as well but as you said, it's something he's discarded and the comment about "this is the ending if i die" did seem like togashi's dark sense of humor to me. it's not really worth looking into or getting emotional over, if anything, togashi just confirmed what the ending WON'T be lol.

it wouldn't surprise me if "ending D" was something he considered at the very start of hxh. when your manga is serialized in a magazine like weekly shonen jump, it lives and dies based on reader surveys. you could have 300+ chapters planned for your series but it might get cancelled around chapter 8 and you need to wrap things up asap. i remember yusei matsui (author of assassination classroom) saying in an interview that when he begins a series, he is prepared in case he needs to end a series at any point in time, because you never know how many chapters you're gonna get. "ending D" could've been the ending if hxh got cancelled during the hunter exam, and we flash forward and see that gon became just like his dad. kind of.... sad.... but it easily brings the series to a close by coming full circle.

in togashi's case, his health being a factor will probably play a role in if he's able to finish all the arcs he has planned for hxh or if he thinks he needs to wrap it up early, so having multiple endings in mind with varying levels of satisfaction for himself makes sense. i don't think it's anything to be concerned by, let's just hope togashi can complete hxh with no regrets.

#ask #anonymous

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pessimisticoptimistsblog · 2 months

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A/N: So I finally rewatched the pilot and realized that the extermination happened before the interview Charlie did 🤦‍♀️ BUT! I’m just going to roll with it being set up my way because it’s honestly not a huge factor imo. Anyway, here’s chapter 2!

Prologue Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8

Chapter 2

Deal With the Devil

It had been 2 days since the annual extermination, and Madame C and Nia were taking the final calls confirming their clients were all accounted for. It had been close with a few of the more reckless sinners, but thankfully, only a couple of scrapes and bruises had been reported. The real scare had been the inane turf-war on the west side that resulted in a hell hound being put out of work for at least a month. He had been new and inexperienced and made a stupid mistake, resulting in Madame C having to reorganize her roster to cover for his absence. White gloved hands dragged down her shadowed face, the stress from the last few days, and her upcoming meeting with the king of hell himself had made for a headache that pulsed behind her eyes. Nia could feel her boss’s frustration practically rolling off of her, but the she-wolf just focused harder on doing the final check-in.

“Fiona and Gus are good - their charge is accounted for with no issues. And that was the last client we needed to account for! No sinners lost this year, so everyone will get a 1% increase on their next renewal and we all get our bonuses! Yes! I’ve been looking forward to this, got a new bike I’ve had my eyes on for a while now.” Nia began to ramble on about the specs of the motorcycle she hoped to buy as Madame C relaxed back into her chair and watched the she-wolf become more and more animated.

The shadow demon was glad her assistant had found a bright side; Madame C hated any hiccups on extermination days, but at least this year was minor and she could now place her focus on her meeting with Lucifer tomorrow. Time had flown these last few days, her nerves becoming more frazzled as the meeting grew closer. If Lucifer couldn’t help her, at least then she’d know her only hope would be God which meant being voiceless would be forever; but if he just wouldn’t help… well, she’d rather not think of how she’d respond.

Nia closed her notebook loudly startling Madame C out of her thoughts, “Welp, that’s it for all this, boss! I think we’re done for today, a little early too. Should give you plenty of time to prepare whatever speech you plan on giving tomorrow since we both know you probably won’t sleep!” The she-wolf gave a wry grin to her boss, the woman barely slept as it was, it was no doubt her current state of mind had left her unable to rest.

*I’ve had a speech planned for almost 300 years, I’m over-thinking it at this point,” a small grin from Madame C as she paused her hands for a moment. *I do agree, we should stop for today. An early night may help me get some sleep.*

“Can’t argue with the boss! An early night sounds fucking great, I’ve got a couple sleeping pills from Sloth I’ve been dying to try. Don’t worry, though, I won’t be late tomorrow!” During her talk, Nia had gathered her purse and begun heading towards the office doors. Before exiting she looked back at Madame C one last time, “Try to get a little sleep, okay? I’ve got a feeling you’re gonna need all the energy you can get.” And then the hell hound was gone, leaving the shadow demon to gather the rest of the papers on the desk before heading to the file room.

After placing the files in their proper spots and grabbing an energy bar from the kitchen, Madame C headed to the basement where a small gym had been installed as a perk for her employees. And at the very back of the room stood a door only she had a key for, her private studio. After living in hell as long as she had, the shadow demon’s home had been destroyed and rebuilt more times than she cared to remember. This room had stood the test of time, though, and now stood at the base of her building in Pentagram City, protected on all sides by thick concrete and other rooms beyond that. It was the only room Madame C lifted her shadows, besides her room and the curtains were always closed in there.

Locking the door behind her, the woman lifted he cloak of darkness before looking around at her personal sanctuary. The room was fairly plain, mats lined half of the floor for when she wanted to work out, the other half was wood with a small rack of weights, a rolled up yoga mat, a couple bo staffs, and a large mirror that took up most of the wall. Madame C began stretching her arms while looking in the mirror; without her shadows, she was reminded of how human she still looked. Her father had pushed her down here when she had just turned 17 and she had only aged a few years since now looking at most in her mid 20s. Her slow aging was the only perk she was happy to have inherited from her father. She had her mother’s upturned nose, green eyes she was told were her grandmother’s accompanied by dark circles that seemed permanent at this point, and was just over 5 feet tall. Her brown hair was still unruly, now reaching the middle of her shoulder blades. She hated it, her mother’s family all had light blonde hair, but brown hair was entirely her father’s contribution. Thankfully, the only other thing she got from her father were her wings that she always kept tightly pressed to her back.

Tying her hair back and removing her dress to reveal workout shorts and a sports bra, the young woman began to stretch eager to burn off some nervous energy.

~The next day~

Madame C and Nia stood on Lucifer’s doorstep having just knocked on the ornate door. “This place is kinda not as bad as I expected. Figured the king of Hell would have a fancier place, honestly. Not that this isn’t! It’s just, ya know, not what I imagined, that’s all. Also, like how long does it take for someone to op-“ the she-wolf’s nervous rambling was cut off as an imp opened the door before inviting the two women in. He led them up a set of stairs and down a couple hallways before stopping outside of a simple door. He knocked twice before opening it and letting Nia and her boss inside then bowed as he closed the door and left.

The walls were covered in portraits and photos of the royal family and the sins. Nia and Madame C glanced around taking all of them in as well as the desk and large chair sat in front of a floor length window with the curtains drawn closed. In the chair sat Lucifer, his head propped up on one fist while his other hand twirled a pen, boredom clear on his face. Madame C knew of the kings dislike for sinners so she hadn’t expected him to be excited, but his expression set her nerves alight all over again.

“Come, sit. Charlie said this was important, so tell me what it is you need and I’ll decide if it’s something I want to do,” Lucifer droned. His eyes appraised each woman, brows drawing together slightly at seeing one entirely cloaked in darkness.

Nia made it to her seat first with Madame C close behind. After settling, they looked at each other and Madame C began to sign while Nia interpreted. *I am known as Madame C amongst the sinners, you may just call me C if you like. I don’t know what your daughter has told you but I am here to ask if you know of a spell that could break a seal placed by a powerful man. He sealed half of my soul and my voice when I arrived in hell so that I would never be able to reveal his transgressions.* They had rehearsed this part on the drive here, but the demon’s hands still shook lightly, her chest already beginning to constrict from the seal. The two women watched as Lucifer rested his elbows on his desk and placed his chin on his clasped hands. He was staring Madame C down, searching for something, but the demon didn’t know what.

He seemed to have found what it was as he opened his mouth, a resolve clear on his face, “You’re hiding some pretty important details. Either tell me everything, or I won’t even consider helping.” A scowl was set on his face now, and the female demon knew she had no choice but to reveal all of her cards.

Nia reached over to grasp one white gloved hand to show her support. Slowly, the shadowy veil lifted from Madame C to reveal her true form covered in a knee-length, long-sleeved black dress with her hair tied back neatly into a bun, a couple pieces framing her face. She averted her green eyes to the floor, not ready to see anyone’s reaction to her.

Taking a slow deep breath, she began to sign again, *I was 17 when my father found me…*

~Flashback~

Year 1470

She could barely catch her breath, the man- no, the angel was faster than anyone she had ever ran from and he had finally cornered her. She stared at him in fear, wishing she had had more time to train her newfound wings, maybe then she could have escaped him. His eyes were furious, a scowl deep set on his face yet not a hair out of place. Not far behind him she saw a petite woman, another angel judging by her wings, with short white hair catching up as well. Together, their golden eyes held the young girl frozen in place, she knew she was caught.

“Ya know, your mom was a real bitch. What kind of ‘good Christian’ woman seduces an angel? Props to her for actually having you, I guess, but you being alive ain’t really good for my image. Half-breeds aren’t allowed as is, but especially mine? The big-wigs definitely wouldn’t look past that. So unfor-“ Adam was cut off abruptly.

“What are you talking about?! How can you be my father? My mother said my father was a farmer, not an angel. And she would never lie to me! Who even are you?” The girl was yelling by the end, out of breath once again with green eyes wide and confused.

The two angels approached again, the girl toppling back, trying to maintain distance. “Who am I? Bitch, I’m Adam! THE first man, the original man! Also, the reason you’ve got those little wings starting to grow out of your back there, but that doesn’t matter. I’m fucking important, and I can’t have a half-breed ruining what I’ve got up in heaven. Sooo, Lute, you wanna take over?” Adam held his hand toward the other angel now know as Lute as a sadistic grin came over her face.

“We’re going to send you to hell where you belong. And we’re going to make sure you never tell another soul anything. Ever. Again!” Lute grabbed the girl by her shirt collar, lifting her off the ground and closer to her face. “Maybe, if you’re lucky, your whore mommy will still be down there. She probably died again, though, so don’t get your hopes up,” Lute’s grin was sadistic, showing no remorse.

A portal opened under them, Lute flying in, still holding Adam’s daughter with Adam close behind. They landed in a barren area of the pride ring on the outskirts of the growing Pentagram City, the white-haired angel throwing their captive to the hard ground. Adam pulls a book out of his white robes and flips straight to an ear-marked page. His eyes scanned the page, head nodding as he read it over, “Alrighty, just need to draw this thing on your chest - Lute, you mind ripping this shit?” Adam motioned to the young girl’s chest covered by a high necked dress. Lute complied immediately, the girl barely fighting, still in shock by everything happening. “Cool! Now, I just do a little this, and that… What’d you say your name was again? Need that for the seal,” he stared expectantly.

“C-Caelwen. But please-“

Adam didn’t give her a chance to finish before he pushed her back into the ground and motioned Lute to hold her shoulders down. “Listen, kid, I can’t have this reaching heaven. I’ve got a great gig up there, and you’re not gonna ruin it. And I can’t exactly kill you, so this will have to do. Just stay still and let me finish this shit so Lute and I can get the fuck out of here, okay?” Adam didn’t give her a chance to talk again, pricking his finger to add a drop of his blood to the seal he had drawn on her chest. He mumbled a few strange words and suddenly Caelwen felt a fiery heat surround her that began to rapidly squeeze her. It felt like it cut through her body before clenching around her heart. She tried to scream, but nothing came out.

After a couple minutes, the heat settled to a dull burn, and the girl looked to where her two captors stood watching her to make sure their plan had worked. She tried to ask what they had done, but again, nothing came out. Over and over, she tried screaming, yelling, crying, yet nothing escaped her. The angels looked down at her, grins nearly splitting their faces, it had worked.

“Listen, I hate to split before we can bond or whatever, kid, but I’ve got some important shit to take care of in heaven. So, get comfy. You’ll be spending the rest of your life here, unable to ever tell a soul what happened without killing yourself.” Adam’s aura had darkened, making the girl cower further into the ground. “Don’t worry, though! I’m sure a little demon will be along soon to kill you. Have fun!” With that, Lute and Adam flew off into a new portal leaving Caelwen on her own, her dress ripped, and a seal burned into her chest that was fading quickly. Everything hit her all at once, and she dissolved into sobs, wishing she could have stopped them somehow.

~End Flashback~

Madame C, Caelwen, clutched a hand to her chest, doubling over as tears threatened to fall. Her chest burned, and she was shaking, trying to hold in the pain she felt. She could only think it felt like having her heart ripped out with a hand consumed by fire. Nia reached out for her boss, distraught to see her boss in so much pain. Caelwen shakily waved her off, doing her best to sit back up and look towards Lucifer. She was taken aback at the man in front of her, unsure of how to take his response.

Lucifer was seething. He had known heaven wasn’t fond of Nephilim, they had outlawed their creation when the first one was simply proposed and any that were created had their souls reaped within their first 2 years of life by the angel of death. To know now that one had slipped under their radar just to be thrown into his domain and left for dead by her own heavenly father, he was pissed. Adam was a dick to begin with and now this? All to avoid the consequences of his actions.

Lucifer looked to the Nephilim in front of him, seeing her pained expression, he recalled the last part of her story and reached a clawed hand towards her hoping his abilities could lessen the effects of her seal. Once she seemed to relax slightly, Lucifer relaxed and reigned in his anger, he couldn’t hurt Adam due to their agreement, but he could certainly do his part to make the cocky angel pay. “I can’t say for certain that I have the exact book we’ll need, but I will do everything in my power to help you. Unfortunately, if I don’t have what we need, it’s most likely in heaven and it takes time to get a meeting with them if they’re not interested.” Lucifer reached across his desk for Caelwen’s hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. “For tonight, you can sleep here- in a guest room so I can make sure the curse on that seal doesn’t have another wave. And tomorrow, we can start searching the archives. Miss. Nia, you are welcomed to stay as well if you wish. But I do have a decent grasp on sign language if there are other matters you’re needed for?” The king looked between the two women for an answer.

*Go home and rest. Tomorrow you can handle my meeting with Velvette and cancel the others. I’ll call for you if we need you. Thank you. For everything* Caelwen then placed a hand on Nia’s knee, hoping to convey her gratitude the vest she could while still in pain.

Nia grasped her hand in reassurance, “Don’t worry boss lady, I can handle the mutts and assholes while you figure this out.” The she-wolf’s easy grin eased the other girls mind, she knew her assistant could more than handle the office and any bullshit their clients threw their way. Nia rose from her chair and headed towards the door, stopping to wave goodbye to her boss before leaving.

“Let’s get you into a bed so you can rest, okay?” Lucifer’s voice was gentle as he reached for the young girl, noticing her wings peaking out of her dress now that he was above her. Caelwen nodded, looking up at him before placing her hand in his outstretched one. Standing proved difficult as her legs shook and then gave out beneath the Nephilim, with Lucifer quickly scooping her up with a soft ‘I’ve got ya’. Seeing how exhausted the girl was, Lucifer opted to portal to a guest room near his own in case any problems arose during the night. Although it took no time at all, Caelwen was out cold when Lucifer laid her in down in the bed. Seeing her face relaxed in sleep, he could finally take in her features and couldn’t help but notice she certainly inherited the angelic beauty. A clawed hand reached out to brush a stray hair from her face before he quickly shook his head and portaled to his own room, they had a difficult task ahead and he’d need all the sleep he could get.

A/N – I have edited and reread this chapter so many times today. I’m still not completely happy, but if I don’t post it now I’ll scrap it and hate myself later. But, I hope you all enjoy this chapter! Chapter 3 probably won’t be out until Saturday because of work, but maybe sooner, we’ll see.

Tag List:

@leximus98

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin x reader #lucifer morningstar x reader #helluva boss

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kindasleepywriter · 5 months

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BoP - Chapter 3: Mutual Understanding

Bird of Prey masterlist. Azriel x Reader.

Chapter summary: You and Azriel come to a tentative agreement, while he reflects on the first time he met you.

Story rating: Mature - Minors DNI

Warnings: None.

Word count: 1.6k.

Previous | Next

Azriel was on his way home when he met you for the second time in 300 years. He was exhausted and ready for the night to end. Everything that could’ve gone wrong in the previous 24 hours had indeed gone wrong.

He’d tossed and turned all night, falling asleep too late, and subsequently felt miserable during training. Some of his shadows had immediately rushed to him afterwards with some information from a source he had in the Day court, about an Illyrian rushing through their territory, heading directly to the Night court like his life depended on it.

It wasn’t that important of a tip, but he felt like he should at least go check out the south borders to check if there wasn’t any more trouble currently heading to the border alongside him. However, the Spymaster had been delayed by one thing and then another and so on and so forth until he’d had no choice but to do his surveillance in the early morning hours. The visibility was horrible even with his enhanced eyesight and, while his shadows kept an eye on the ground in his stead, he felt uneasy sticking around the same place for a while.

Luckily, he didn’t have to circle the border for too long before his shadows started whispering in his ear about the man running through the mountains. This was very unusual, as the man should’ve just been able to take flight and increase his speed ten-fold, especially if he was in a hurry. He still stuck to the ground, and Azriel wondered if something kept him grounded. However, as he pondered, Azriel’s shadows threw him one more piece of information that was much more interesting: a Peregryn was tailing the man. It wasn’t everyday one could see one of the feathered-wing fae on solid ground at all, but especially not in Night court territory. The Illyrians and Peregryns had a tense relationship, to say the least. The former didn’t approve of the freedom women had in Dawn, nor their ability to join their court’s leagues. Peregryns on the other hand viewed their Night court cousins as impulsive and cruel brutes who mistreated their own and couldn’t see past their own nose. Azriel, having his own difficult opinion on his kind, couldn’t truthfully say that the Peregryns were entirely wrong.

After learning of your presence, he’d flown slowly, high above the trees, keeping watch over the two individuals running through the forest while keeping a safe enough distance to keep him from having to cloak himself in darkness. However, once he realized that you had caught up to the Illyrian, he’d instantly disappeared into the shadows to observe the interaction between you two from up close. Nothing could’ve prepared him for the sight that awaited him: you, immaculate white wings tucked tightly against your back, using your weight to hold down the man whose own wings were covered in dirty bandages. You’d readied herself to slice his throat without a single care in the world, eyes absolutely void of any emotion. You radiated danger.

He'd stopped you, of course, only to be met with venomous and taunting verbal attacks. He’d been a little frustrated at not recognizing you initially, chalking it up to the fact that he hadn’t slept, and had initially responded in kind before he’d realized that he was going too far with his own jibes and that he had to keep some control over his emotions. You might be a vulture, but that didn’t mean he had to lower himself below his own standards. You were making it extremely hard to do so, however, and you’d become shockingly different from your time in Autumn. At the time, you’d been a meek girl at the beck and call of the Vanseras, smart and kind but completely lost in the politics of their palace. One of them seemed to have secured your love, even though it was clear he was playing with your feelings and didn’t reciprocate. He didn’t know then or now what you possessed or had done for Beron to be so interested, but the High Lord had unfortunately seemed to be successful at keeping you trapped in his court. For all that Azriel knew, maybe you still were, but the deadly aura around you made that unlikely.

When his own cruel words from that first encounter had been thrown back in his face, he’d sighed internally but pretended amusement to keep you from seeing how he really felt: ashamed. He had said those words and even Cassian had called him harsh at the time, but he had done so for a reason. He had approached it all wrong, but he couldn’t exactly justify himself to you, not with how you were acting. You probably thought of him as a complete ass and while he wanted to explain, he didn’t think he could trust you not to find a weakness in his words. You were sharper than an arrowhead now, every word chosen carefully to maintain your impenetrable shields. Azriel wondered, how had you become so cold?

He’d also noticed how his shadows reacted to you, he wasn’t blind, your presence soothing them into stillness. A completely new behaviour, as they usually never took a moment of rest and carried information to him endlessly, no matter how much he’d love for them to stop and just be quiet for a moment sometimes. Bunch of traitors, he thought, playing nice just because of a pretty lady. He had to admit that you were indeed beautiful, your captivating eyes almost urging him to come closer despite the hostile demeanour you carried. He had partially failed to resist the call, reminding himself that you could very well be a spy or an enemy of the court, but he’d nevertheless stepped forward unconsciously to find himself standing only a few feet from where you stood. Nevertheless, no matter how alluring you were, his shadows really needed to stop posturing at every new interesting woman he met. They were going to run out of tricks quickly at this rate, perhaps that would help tame their newfound determination to meddle in his life.

By the time you’d been trying to negotiate your way out of going to Velaris, he was over the entire situation and just wanted to go home, eat and sleep. You didn’t want to go meet Rhys and Feyre? Too bad. You were going anyway.

“Let’s make a bargain, Shadowsinger.”

That had snapped him out of his constant inner monologue instantly. A bargain? Before learning how Rhys had gotten Feyre to bargain with him under the mountain, he hadn’t even been sure that it was possible to do it with faes of other courts. Only one night court individual was needed, it would seem. The deals weren’t to be taken lightly, and wording could mean the difference between a friendly bet and living enslaved to another person for the rest of your life. Azriel thought back about the war with Hybern when the Inner Circle had bargained left and right to ensure their victory. If they could bargain successfully with otherworldly creatures, this could turn out fine.

Again, his thoughts came to a screeching halt. Was he actually considering this? Had his brain leaked from his skull, and he’d left behind without noticing? By the mother, this was a bad idea. Although… It sure would solve a lot of problems, it would get him home sooner, and maybe he’d learn a bit more about her in the process.

You were watching him for a reaction, growing increasingly amused the longer he took to respond. Get yourself together, he thought.

“What kind of bargain?”, he slowly asked, cautious.

“I want the guarantee of my safety and liberty from the moment I enter Velaris to my departure if I remain appropriately cooperative and truthful about information relevant to the safety of your court, and exclusively with your High Lady. Simple.”

He turned it over in his head, trying to find any loopholes or tricks. What was your deal with Feyre, anyways? You hadn’t even acknowledged Rhys’ existence once this entire time. Not that it mattered, if anything Feyre would use this as a great opportunity tease her mate, and she was just as strong, if not stronger than Rhys as far as her mind-reading powers went. Again, Azriel knew this was an entirely ridiculous situation and that he shouldn’t even entertain the idea of making a deal with you, but he needed some fun followed by some much needed rest with the day he’d had, and this promised exactly that. Not that he’d ever tell you, of course. If you were a spy, they’d also easily find out, he noted, almost as an afterthought.

“You also need to agree not to break any of our laws and to not cause trouble while you’re here.”, he said, “You stay under the surveillance of a person of my choosing at all times, the High Lady will come to you at her convenience and if you are not deemed a danger to this court, you will leave the minute she asks you to. Are we clear?”

“A bit overdramatic, Spymaster, but I’ll take it.”. He almost hesitated as you held out your hand to shake his but quickly brushed it off, taking the offered gesture, both of you grasping each other’s forearm.

“You’ve got yourself a deal, then.”, he stated at a lower pitch than he’d meant to, staring you right in the eyes.

“It would appear that I do.”, you responded.

A bit of a shorter one today! Writing from Az's point of view is *rough* when you don't have ACOFAS on hand, but I did my best! His POV should stay pretty rare, but I couldn't help giving a little glimpse into where his head is at right now.

Tell me what you think!

Banner created by the amazing @saradika

Taglist: @sapphenaa

#azriel x reader #azriel #acotar #acotar x reader #acotar fanfic #azriel fanfic #azriel POV #enemies to lovers #shadowsinger #azriel x you #azriel x y/n

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maturemenoftvandfilms · 7 months

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The Senator from Montana

CHAPTER THIRTEEN: Down on the Farm-PART 3

Featuring Sen. Jon Tester

The end of harvest is always stressful and with Sen. Jon Tester recently announcing that he will run for reelection. My life as is Executive Assistant sometimes require me to spend nearly every waking hour of a workday together with him to ensure the senator’s time is spent efficiently. A lot of the time it’s serious and a lot of time it's fun… mainly the sex we’re having. Today I had come down to Sen. Tester’s Family Farm, to help prepare him for his reelection run and end up working on weekend projects that needed to be taken care of. Right now I'm helping with a 25-year-old grain auger.

While helping him (like I know what I'm doing), admiring big Jon. And big he was! Tall and bulky, he is nearly 300 pounds, standing six feet, tightening a bolt. He was whistling and seemed extremely happy. I didn't want to interrupt this happy man so I just watched for awhile. Then he caught a glimpse of me eyeing him and turned towards me.

"I know that look." Jon said, adding, "You're not going to let me get some work done. "

Noticing my erection through my pants, he said with amusement, beads of sweat dripping from his close-cropped hair, "I know what you're like when you get like this. Let's take care of that."

Then he winked at me and walked away, heading towards the big barn. I immediately snapped out of my day dream and followed him. Just as I entered the barn, I heard from an empty stall at the very back of the barn, “Get your ass over here Jake.”

I hurried over and found Jon sitting on bales of hay shaking his dick back and forth as it swelled up. Forgetting my hard on, I found myself kneeling down in front of him, taking a hold of his beautiful dick and closed my lips around his pale cut dick.

"Fuck! That feels wonderful." The senator exclaimed as I deep throated his cock.

I loved the taste of the senator's cock. It was fresh and masculine. His body smelt slightly of sweat as I pressed my nose against his open fly as I continuing deep throating his cock. With my cock still confined in my jeans. I quickly stood up, jerked my jeans and boxers down. My dick sprung up and stood straight out from my body. It was so hard it was throbbing when Jon grabbed a hold of my dick and pumped his hand back and forth over the head of my dick. I relished the feel of his rough workman hand on my dick.

"Turn around." Sen. Tester ordered.

Wanting Jon to fuck me, I got on all fours in front of him, jetting my butt in his direction as he began digging through a bag. Seconds later he was behind me with a tube of KY jelly.

"Want to try it something new?" He said, squeezing a big handful out and smear it on my asshole and then all over his own big right hand.

"Sure." I said, not knowing what's in store.

"Just lean back and we'll take our time." Jon said as he slipped a couple of slippery fingers into my ass.

I was thinking he was only going to finger fuck me. But after his pinky finger disappear into my asshole and he began to force his entire hand inside of me. His hand was so thick that I couldn't imagine getting it inside me. The pain was intense and it burned like mad. Damn! It hurt! But I didn’t tell him to stop. I wanted the old man’s big, rough hand inside of me. I wanted to be his. To belong to him.

"Fuck!" I hissed, unable to say another word at that moment as he forced the oversized hand deeper into my young asshole. I felt like I was going to split in two and I gasped as the pain spiked up through my spine.

The pain made me attempt to pull away. But the senator grabbed my hips and held me in place as he forced more of his hand inside of me. I couldn’t believe that my ass could possible take the old farmer’s big hand. But slowly, ever so slowly, Jon's big hand disappeared inside of me until the old farmer’s entire hand was up my asshole. And even then, Jon didn’t stop. I was in amazement as he forced his big hand deeper and deeper into my asshole until his arm was buried half way into me. He started pumping his hand in and out of me, causing my back to arch each time he rammed it back inside of my asshole.

Jon fist fucked me without mercy, hard and deep, pounding a quarter of his arm into my ass for a good two or three minutes. My hard cock, dangling between my legs, suddenly began to spray cum up onto the bale of hay beneath me as Jon continued his assault.

"Fuck, I can't take any more!" I cried.

"Hell. You're good and open up for my cock now." Jon said as he pulled his hand entirely out after a few minutes.

Jon leaned back, dropped his cock head down against my gaping ass hole and began to slowly mount me. His thick cock slide in effortless as his fist fucking had me as open as I had ever been.

“Damn, I did a good job opening you.” Jon added as he started slamming his fat dick hard into my ass, stopping only when his low hanging balls slapped against my ass.

The senator started fucking me slowly at first. Then he shifted his weight and suddenly he was like an engine firing all it's pistons at once, ramming his thick dick in and out of my asshole. I loved it. I pushed my asshole hard against his crotch driving his thick dick ever farther into me. I wanted more dick. I want all of his dick inside me.

“Fucking hot!” The old farmer called out as he fucked my ass savagely that had me bucking and moaning.

“Fuck me, Daddy. Give it to me.” I called out as he grabbed my hips so that he could slam his massive pecker even harder into my gapped opened asshole.

“Hell, I’m cuming already!” He said as grabbed me by the top of my shoulder, pulled down on me as he rammed his cock violently into me.

Grunting, Jon began spraying my insides with his hot cum. This was the first time Jon had shot off this quickly. Too quickly for me as I was just getting excited and starting to enjoy it. I lay unmoving, enjoying the delicate feeling of his cum flowing into my ass. Then he pulled his cock out and got off me.

“Damn it. I didn’t want to cum so fast. Your ass was just too hot to resist for long.” Jon said as he stood up and pulled back on his under shorts. He reached down and grabbed his boxer shorts and put them on as I watched. Then when he started to put his pants on, I sat up on the bed.

“Thanks!” I replied as I sort of winch as I tried to shift my position to one more comfortable for my ass. “Come on and help me up. Damn, my ass haven't hurt this much my first time.”

“Come on boy. Let’s get back to work." He said with a big smile on his face as he turned to me and put his arm around my shoulder.

#jon tester #The Senator from Montana #politician #fan fiction #us senator #american politician #Down on the Farm-PART 3

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celesteheartsjey · 3 months

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~Call On Me~Chapter 1

"Bloodline you're on in 5.. 4..3..2..1" the director said not even above a whisper.

"Now.." The director says right on cue.

Roman turns his head from the tv backstage in the bloodlines locker room, slowly , with sort of a smirk on his face, yet a confused look at the same time.

"I don't get it .. Wiseman.." Roman spoke, turning his body to Paul, not all the way , but just enough to know that he's talking to him.

"Yes my tribal chief ?" Paul's says quickly leaning into Roman's frame, listening to his voice of concern.

"Why are they on my show?" he says referring to Randy and Matt Riddle whom had just had a match with Sami Zayn, as both men in the end had stood tall with their raw tag team champions. "I mean we already smashed RK-Bro, we done with them man , they must be desperate.."

"I mean we already whooped them at backlash uce, and they out here still talking Trash !" Jey chimed in with a hint of aggravation in his voice.

"Yeah, they not just talking trash about the tribal chief uce" Jimmy joining in also. "They not only doing that , but they disrespect the usos too !" He said looking back and forth between his twin brother and older cousin. "Saying we can't do nothing on our own.. saying we need you to do everything for us" he says , with his eyes on Roman's. "Man.." he countinued. "We the longest reigning smackdown tag team champions nearly 300 days for a reason !"

"No cap" jey says agreeing with his brother.

"But it's all good uce ! We do this for the bloodline, and most of all we doin this for family ! Tonight uce ..the whole world will acknowledge the tribal chief ."

The camera pin points on Roman as he looks on with a serious expression, clearly taking in everything the brothers just said, nodding his head, he was satisfied with what he heard.

"Tonight ..we gone give them an answer" Roman says.

The odd silence fell from the room when the director had yelled "cut !". Everyone had got up from the nice cushions they were sitting on, making their way outside of the locker room, to prepare for the events that would happen later that night , involving a in ring segment with Riddle and Randy.

_____

Outside the locker room, was where she stood waiting for Roman. Ever heard of the catchphrase "behind every successful man there is a woman"?

She in this case , was definitely that woman. Olivia Ouelett was her name. She and Roman had been married for quite some time now , and it was very evident that these two were so in love with each other , even now with the wave that Roman and his cousins are on , she's extremely proud of him . He's worked hard to get to where he is now, and it first it was a struggle , but that's apart of life .

All people tend to go through struggles, but that makes them who they are, and if anything that ought to make a person stronger , fueling the passion deep within one's heart.

Roman embraces his beautiful wife, closing the now gone distance, between them.

Olivia smiled as she took in her husbands warmeth against her body. He then pulls away, looking at her up and down , observing the very short red dress that had a low cut , enough to reveal her breasts, hugging her tight frame ,with her blonde loose curls, flowing down her back beautifully.

Olivia, to simply put it was just that girl.

A smirk forms at his lips, As his eyes still can her amazing features.

"I don't know what it is ..but it's something about this dress that's taking everything in me to not rip it off of you right now" he says suddenly. This time with more of a serious, thus far desirable look.

Olivia giggled at her husbands words.

"Mm, eh bien, si cela ne tanait qu'a moi, je te ramenerais dans ce vestiaire tout de suite" she said, speaking in her very strong French Canadian accent.

"English ?" He asks, his hands moving down to her waist.

"I said , if it were up to me I would take you in that locker room, right there..now." she says pointing over at the locker room door that he as well as his cousins had just came out of.

He bit his lip , turned on by her words. "Well how about we -"

"Ay yall chill on the pda. We know yall married but damn, do everybody gotta know?" Jimmy says , interrupting the moment like he always does.

Joe sighs at yet another moment being ruined. Meanwhile Olivia just laughs.

"Uce why you always gotta say something" Jey says tapping his brothers arm, causing him to flinch.

"What you mean ?! I ain't even do nothing , all I asked was a damn question! I can't ask questions now ?? and secondly what the hell you hit me for ??"

"Cause of yo damn foolishness that's why, now come on so we can go to get us a quick bite to eat at catering before this segment tonight" jey says walking off.

Jimmy rubs the back of his head and just looks at his brother walking away, then he looks between Roman and Olivia.

"Ay uh, I'll catch you later then big uce" he says dapping Roman up , and walking off behind his brother.

Roman shakes his head and looks back at Olivia. " I can't stand them sometimes" he says with a bit of a chuckle.

Olivia laughs.

_____

Later That Following Night

The Bloodline had cut their in ring segment for the night , and were currently walking backstage.

By that point everyone was ready to load and get ready to go. Hoping that they all could get a good nights rest , and just like that be on to the next city..

Roman and Olivia walked hand in hand as they went back into the locker room, having faith that they would get some kind of alone time tonight.

As soon as the door is opened Roman goes to plop down on the couches soft cushions, instantaneously letting out a loud groan. Olivia joins in, sitting beside him.

He lies his head back, gazing up at the rooms lights. Olivia comes into him closer, closing the space between the cushions.

Her hand begins to fidget with the zipper on his jacket that he was wearing , the other one was playing with the likes of his hair that was slicked back into a man bun.

He looked over at Olivia , adoringly as she toyed with his hair . He pulled her in , only for him to place a light kiss on her lips.

She swooned at the touch of his lips, already missing the feeling of them. Without saying another word she leans her head down to give him a smother of pecks on his lips, grabbing a hold of his thick beard she begins to stroke it lightly.

A slight moan falls from Olivia's lips as the kiss gets sloppier. Their tongues dancing like no other, feeling the heat of the moment.

Just like that Olivia lifts her right leg up to put it over Roman's lap , practically straddling him, with their lips not once leaving each other. Olivia's dress rises up by the minute as Roman starts to rub his gigantic hands in circles over her ass.

Her moans intensify as he tugs at the back of her dress , pulling it over, to reveal her bare, but perfectly rounded butt.

He places a hard smack against her sensitive skin. She moans In return, his lips leaving her mouth to then only attack her neck.

His hands roamed her back , tugging at the back of her dress once more.

"Take this off" he growled against her skin, unzipping the back of her red fitted dress.

She did just as he said, sliding her dress down over her shoulders, revealing her black laced bra, with the panties to match. Pulling her dress all the way off, she throws it to the floor.

His hands immediately fall to her breast, groping them, liking the feel. Her hands lay on top of his, rubbing his hands against her breasts.

Suddenly he stops, lifting himself up , with her weight still on him , as he began to unzip his jacket and take it off of himself, along with his shirt, showing his toned body that was both tatted and Muscular.

He positioned himself back to where he was at first, just gazing at her and her beautiful adolescense.

"You're so perfect" he softly spoke, pulling up to Kiss her lips again.

She giggles. "Thank you"

Before saying another word, they find themselves kissing each other nonstop , his hand caressing her back , soon coming down the front of her. His hands went down her stomach , pulling at her black laced panties.

Looking down he notices how wet she is, so he takes his finger and slowly inserts it inside of her.

"Oh, oh my god" she spoke.

"Feels good don't it ?" He whispered against her ear.

"Yes.." she whined to him.

While he was pumping his finger in and out of her , his free hand went to her bra, pulling it down, unveiling her double d's .

His mouth watered at the sight of them, quickly attaching his lips to her left breast.

He took his time working on her left nipple , soon going over to latch his lips on the other one. She moaned, looking up at the lights, laying her head back as far as she could, only to bring her head back down again to look at his finger as he slid in and out of her wet folds.

"Mmm.." she moaned moved her hips back and forth against him, as he fingers worked her, picking up his pace.

Her hands went around his head , as he had finally unattached his lips from her nipple. He pumps in to her more as she feels herself starting to come of an extremely high orgasm, her moans more vocal than ever.

"Mhmm, tell your tribal chief what you want" he moans.

" Je veux que tu me baises, I want you to fuck me" she said with a pleading tone.

Hearing those 6 words, he took his fingers from her sticky folds and put it up to her mouth, allowing her to get a taste of herself.

Taking his finger from her mouth, he pulls his joggers down along with his underwear, to see his 7 inch shaft , spring out , rock hard against her slickness.

He picks her up, cupping both of her cheeks , and placing them on his dick. She moans at the feel of him inside of her.

His thrusts started slow as she mosned to him , fulfilling her every desire in that moment, that pleased the both of them, as they had moaned together in unison.

"I can feel how wet you are for me .."

A moan was all that feel from her tounge, until he planted a hard smack on her ass.

"Uhh yes ! I'm so wet for you !" She loudly moaned.

He countinued to slap her ass, rolling her hips into his , riding the waves of ecstasy , watching her body go back and forth.

"Tell daddy what you want again" he says, placing a tight grip on her hips.

"I-I .. I want daddy to fuck Me!"

And that he did as he had moved with a quickness, his balls slapping against her skin, his mouth widening at the pleasure he was giving , as they fucked each other in pure bliss.

"You love this dick huh?" He says cupping her ass checks, to go down harder on his member.

"Yes! I Love it !"

"Then you gone cum for me right?" He whispered against her ear.

"Uht, yes-"

"What you say, I can't hear you baby" he said pounding into her much faster.

"Y-Y-Yesssss! I'm cumming! I'm cumming!" She moaned, feeling her walls closing in.

"Fu-"

That's when their was a twist on the door knob, and with Olivia and Roman not paying to much attention, they hadn't even noticed that the door had opened.

"Ay, Uce-" jey said stopping dead in his tracks, as his voice echoed throughout the room , causing Olivia to jump up within a matter of seconds, gathering her clothes to cover her, running into the bathroom.

" shit, shit ! My fault uce !" He said quickly going back outside the lockeroom, in absolute embarrassment, knowing that he had just walked in on his cousin and his wife 'doing it'.

Once Jey had gotten out of there sight, Olivia peaked her head in from the bathroom.

"Relax baby he's gone, you can come out of hiding now" Roman said dropping his hand down over his face.

She came out of the bathroom , looking straight at Roman like he was crazy.

"What?" He asked looking over to her, adjusting his joggers.

"Why didn't you lock the door !?!" She shrilled at him.

"Why didn't I lock the door ?? What do you mean , you came in last following behind me, why is it me, that was supposed to lock the door!?!"

She rolled her eyes at the thought of their carelessness for fucking in their locker room, and not only that it was the bloodlines lockeroom.

"Whatever" she shot back at him, going back in the bathroom.

" Are we finishing this back at the hotel though ?!" He asked.

"No! Since you thought it was you that wasn't supposed to lock the door!" She shouted from the bathroom.

"What - Olivia I did not say that !"

"Didn't have too !" She hissed.

"But you came in last" Roman said still trying to defend himself.

"Whatever Roman!" She says in annoyance at the topic.

He didn't bother to say anything else, because he personally saw no point if she was going to shut him down everytime. But he still needed the reassurance.

" wait so you really not gone give me no more at the ho-"

"NO."

"Damn" he muttered to himself , wishing that he could've went back and locked that door.

Y’all this is my first fic on here I hope yall enjoy it , and this is also posted on my wattpad , Celeste798 in case yall wanna check it out ! But anyways here yall go ! And y’all’s comments and votes would be very much appreciated 🌞❤️..

#jey uso #wwe superstars #the usos #jey uso smut #jimmy uso #roman reigns

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jungle-angel · 2 months

Text

The One With The Sex Manual (Frat!Rhett Abbott x Reader)

Summary: Big brothers will always look out for the little brothers and give free sex ed lessons where and when they possibly can

Warnings: Smut references, frat boy sex manuals, weird and very detailed sex positions/acts etc. BE WARNED SOME OF THESE POSITIONS ARE REAL!!!!! (lol)

Tagging: @floydsmuse @sebsxphia @attapullman @callmemana

Rhett sighed as he paced up and down the row of freshmen pledges seated before him in the living room of the Delta Tau house, hands behind his back and licking his lips, a nervous habit he just couldn't break.

"Alright guys," Rhett said to them. "Now I'm sure that this ain't the first time ya'll have encountered something sexual.......but I warn you.....nothing, I repeat......NOTHING......can prepare you guys for what you're about to learn in these lessons."

All of them looked at each other, nervous and uncertain.

"Anybody on Greek Row will tell you," Rhett continued. "That during a rager, you will encounter sexual acts that are filthy, disgusting, depraved and stunningly beautiful all at once. A Delta Tau in his natural habitat, often engages in these odd mating rituals during said mating season which lasts from Valentines' Day all the way up through March."

The boys scratched a few notes on their little notepads, hoping that the notes would at least serve them well enough in the days ahead.

"Now seeing as Florida Fuckfest occurs at the peak of mating season," Rhett informed them. "Ya'll need to prepare yourselves because anything and everything will be thoroughly fucked, including shit that doesn't even move. I guarantee that every one of ya'll will have your balls completely drained by the time spring break is over. So lets dig into the manuals and get in the weeds. Flounder? What's the first chapter?"

"Um......sex positions?"

"Alright so lets list out a few sex positions and what they are," Rhett said, turning to the portable chalkboard. "What's the first one?"

Flounder snorted, stifling a laugh. "Simba," he answered.

"And what does 'Simba' entail?" Rhett queried, trying not to laugh.

"Oh God......" Flounder squeaked. "I don't think I can read this......"

"Just try."

"When you blow your load on a girl's stomach, take some on your thumb, wiping it across her forehead, you go 'SIMBA' like Rafiki."

The other pledges and even Rhett couldn't help himself, their laughs filling the room. "Alright anybody else?"

"What's the Cleveland Accordion?" Stephen Rodriguez asked.

"Oh that's funny," Rhett laughed. "That's where ya'll quietly cum on her knees, loudly bust a nut in her face and then slam'er knees and face together like an accordion."

The pledges could no longer keep their laughter in, one or two of them simultaneously rolling to the floor at Rhett's explaination.

"Wait, this looks weird, what's the 300?" Danny Kelso queried.

“When you finish doin it, that's where you make sure your naked partner is at the end of the bed near your feet. Then yell ‘This is Sparta!’ and kick her off the bed," Kayce explained before taking a swig of Coke.

"You've tried this?!" Rhett exclaimed through a fit of laughter.

"I didn't have a choice!" Kayce blurted out. "I had to pee really bad and she wouldn't get off me!!"

"Was that Monica?" Rhett asked him.

"Yeah.....it was Monica," Kayce chuckled sheepishly.

Rhett grew a little red in the face when he saw you in the doorway, biting your lip as you tried not to laugh. Kayce called for attention, himself and the pledges standing straight out of respect for you since you were the frat's First Lady.

"Baby I am so sorry ya'll had to hear that," Rhett apologized.

"Rhett don't apologize it was hilarious," you chuckled. "Besides, I've heard worse over at the Phi Gamma house. That's nothing."

Rhett took you in his arms and kissed you. "Wanna help me out here?" he asked you. "I could use a T.A for the sex ed classes."

You laughed, kissing him right back. "I'd be honored," you told him. Turning to the pledges, you let them be seated. "Alright dumbasses, let's get down to business," you announced.

#rhett abbott #rhett abbott x reader #frat!rhett #frat!rhett abbott #frat!rhett abbott x reader #outer range

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cbrownjc · 18 days

Text

The second part of my new fanfic in The Forgotten Years series, which I am writing with @faerywhimsy, is now done, and the entire fic is now complete! Please check it out over on AO3.

Title: Half-Forgotten Dreams

Pairings: Armand/Daniel, Daniel/Louis (past), Armand/Louis (past), Armand/Daniel/Louis (past), Lestat/Louis (background/past)

Summary: Though his interview with Louis is now at its end, Daniel continues to regain memories of his past that reveal things he’s not prepared to face.

End of Season Two — Show Canon with Book Canon Elements — Daniel’s POV

ACT II (of II) — 17,507 words — Mature — Completed

Warning: This story might contain possible spoilers for the end of Season Two (as it references later books in the series). If that is something you may want to avoid, please wait to read this story later.

* * *

Excerpt:

Al Shafar Tower, Dubai, United Arab Emirates, June 28, 2022, after sunset

Two days before Louis attempts to end his life via sunlight exposure.

Armand explained to Daniel, as they walked along a long hallway that led toward the back of the penthouse, that the Al Shafar Tower began its construction in 2006.

Armand, using his human alias of “Rashid” during that time before construction began, had been one of the main investors in the building project before the ground had even been broken for its construction.

Armand, at that time, had purchased all the penthouse space in the building, along with a sizable portion of the basement spaces, which included a private entrance into the basement space. Along with the design for a private elevator that ran from the penthouse directly down to that owned basement area.

Construction of the tower was completed in 2009.

All of this Armand explained to Daniel as he now led Daniel to that private elevator, located in a secluded corner of the penthouse space.

“And what exactly are you keeping in this private basement area?” Daniel asked as they entered the elevator that would take them down to the private basement level. “Is it where The Farm is located? You and Louis both have yet to tell me anything about that little . . . whatever it is.”

“No,” Armand replied evenly. “The Farm is located in another place. The basement holds something much more … important. At least, for Louis,” he added, a note of resignation having been added in his tone.

“For Louis,” Daniel repeated. “The same Louis whom you told me a few hours ago was taking time to rest today?”

That day’s interview time did not have Louis come to talk with Daniel at all. Armand, once again, had told Daniel that Louis was taking the day to rest after the emotional remembrances of the day before. Just as he had done a week before when Daniel had first been given Claudia’s diaries to read.

So that whole day, it had just been Armand and Daniel on their own. And Armand had told Daniel, in great detail — and with cool detachment — things he felt were significant to tell Daniel about his past; how he was first turned in the city of Venice, as well as his kidnapping soon after, and being indoctrinated into a cult of vampires called ‘The Children of Darkness,’ of which he became the leader of the Paris chapter of.

How then, 300 years later, he’d first met The Vampire Lestat, who had turned the only life Armand had known for so long upside down; resulting in the end of that coven, and the beginning of a new one — the Théâtre des Vampires.

And then, finally, his role leading up to the trial and execution of Claudia by the Théâtre des Vampires.

“Louis did take time to rest today,” Armand explained. He continued to face forward in the elevator, not looking at Daniel as he spoke. “But during that time, he likes to come down to the basement level and spend time down here as well.”

The elevator speakers announced that they had arrived at the basement level.

“And why would Louis want to spend time resting in a basement?” Daniel asked, skeptically, as the elevator doors began to open.

With one arm, Armand held the doors open and, with a tilt of his head, indicated Daniel should exit first, only saying “See for yourself.”

[ Read on AO3 ]

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bratshaws · 5 months

Text

through the hourglass 309.brb x oc

a/n: OOOOOOOOOOH (comments and reblogs are super welcome and encouraged!)

pairing: plus size!oc x rooster

warnings: none uwu

goodness gracious (pls read this one to know more what this fic is about!!)

chapter

/267/268/269/270/271/272/273/274/275/276/277/278/279/280/281/282/283/284/285/286/287/288/289/290/291/292/293/294/295/296/297/298/299/300/301

/302/303/304/305/306/307/308

(pls let me know if you want to be added to the taglist! )

taglist: @mirandastuckinthe80s @roosterschanelslut @wiipes @lcahwriter @novastories @gretagerwigsmuse @frenchtoastix @lizzie-rdj @fanboyluvr @atarmychick007 @comebacktoearthpls

@peachiicherries @mak-32 @lizziespidiepridie @roosterswifey @ollyoxenfrees @piceous21 @sqrlgrl22 @hofficoffi @lexhalstead3 @lorilane33 @legendarydreamersharkparty @luckyladycreator2

@emilybradshaw @louisahale @leobabbyyy @booklover2sblog @ktjmac @graciereads @bigpoppajes @taytaylala12

@caitsymichelle13 @becks-things @caatheeriinee07 @fanboyswhore9 @jesfreedark @katiemcrae @lilmonstrjedi @hobiismyhopeu @teacupsandtopgun @insominac23 @gh0stsgoodgirl @mygyn @chavivaelisheva @kmc1989 @enchantingharmonyalpaca @callsign-magnolia

The drab walls of the briefing room enclosed the squadron as they awaited the commencement of the mission briefing. Rooster and McAllister sat side by side, reviewing the flight logs one last time before the higher-ups took the stage.

The air in the room was charged with tension and anticipation. Pilots whispered among themselves, exchanging insights and predictions about the upcoming missions. The commanding officer stepped forward, a stern expression etched on his face, and the room fell silent.

And he was very glad it was Cyclone.

"Good afternoon, pilots," he began, his voice carrying authority. "We've gathered here for a crucial briefing regarding the next set of missions. As you're all aware, recent events have emphasized the need for heightened vigilance and precision in our operations."

Rooster listened intently, but his eyes moved around the room,one of his hands cupping his chin as he watched, like a hawk, everyone’s expressions.McAllister, seated beside him, however absorbed the information like a sponge. His eyes flicked between the screen and the documents in front of him,

Rooster couldn't shake the feeling of Mark's eyes on him.

Cyclone's briefing style was methodical, his explanations precise and to the point. "Mission Alpha will involve a coordinated strike on an enemy supply depot located here," Cyclone pointed to a spot on the map. "Intel suggests a significant buildup of resources that could bolster their offensive capabilities. Our objective is to cripple their logistics chain and disrupt their operations in the region."

Rooster's eyes flickered to McAllister, who was nodding along, his gaze fixed on the screen. The young pilot seemed determined to grasp every nuance of the briefing.

"Mission Bravo," Cyclone continued, "will be an aerial reconnaissance mission over the disputed territory. We need up-to-date intelligence on enemy movements and installations. Stealth and evasion will be key. We're expecting heavy resistance, so be prepared for dogfights."

The briefing unfolded, each mission intricately planned with a focus on precision and coordination. Rooster noted the critical points, mentally mapping out the roles of each pilot in the upcoming operations.

He stole a glance in Mark's direction, finding the fellow pilot locked in a conversation with another squadron member.

The suspicion gnawed at Rooster, but he pushed it aside, refocusing on the briefing. Cyclone’s words echoed in the room, outlining the significance of each mission and the potential impact on the ongoing conflict. “Any questions?” Cyclone asks with his eyes moving to each face, “No? Good,Rooster,” he beckons the Lt. “A word?”

Rooster nodded in acknowledgment as he stood, excusing himself from the briefing room and telling McAllister to keep an eye around. Cyclone led the way into a smaller, adjacent room where they could speak privately.

"Rooster, I've been reviewing your recent missions and your performance evaluations," Cyclone began, his gaze penetrating. "You've been doing exemplary work, and your leadership in the squadron is commendable. However, I need to address a matter of concern."

Rooster raised an eyebrow, his expression attentive. "Sir, if there's an issue, I'm here to address it."

Cyclone leaned against the briefing room table, folding his arms. "It's nothing coming from you, you are doing fine but…this breach thing.”

Cyclone's mention of the breach immediately heightened Rooster's alertness. "Sir, I've been keeping a close eye on the team. The recent missions have been intense, and I'm making sure everyone is sharp and focused..."

Cyclone nodded, acknowledging Rooster's vigilance. "It's not about your actions, Rooster. Like I said you were doing fine…I’m just annoyed because this whole thing could’ve been prevented if you got the info. I’m…very relieved everyone survived, truly, you did great.”

"Thank you, sir. Do we…have any leads or suspects?"

Cyclone's expression grew grave. "The investigation is ongoing, but we're working with limited information. That's why I wanted to speak with you. You're perceptive, Rooster, and your experience could provide valuable insights. Have you noticed anything unusual, any behavior that stands out among the pilots?"

Rooster's mind immediately went to Mark. The fellow pilot's demeanor, his interactions—or lack thereof—with others had raised red flags. "Sir, I can't say for certain, but…someone has been somewhat isolated. He doesn't interact much with the other pilots anymore, and there's a certain tension when he's around."

Cyclone nodded thoughtfully, absorbing Rooster's observations. "I appreciate your honesty, Rooster. We need to maintain a cohesive unit, especially in times like these. Any additional information you can provide will be crucial to the ongoing investigation."

"I'll keep a close eye, sir. If I notice anything else, I'll report it immediately."

"Good. We can't afford any compromises in the squadron's integrity anymore. Now, back to the briefing." Cyclone gestured for Rooster to follow him back into the main room. “You still have to give me your reports.”

Rooster returned to the briefing room, his mind still processing the weight of Cyclone's words. The gravity of the breach and the potential threat within their own squadron lingered in the air. He resumed his seat beside McAllister, exchanging a brief nod with the young pilot. “Everything okay,sir?”

“Yeah,” Rooster nodded “Don’t worry about it.”

Cyclone resumed the briefing, seamlessly transitioning back into the strategic details of the upcoming missions. "Mission Alpha is scheduled for tomorrow at 0600 hours. Flight squads will be divided, each assigned a specific target within the supply depot. We're anticipating heavy anti-aircraft defenses, so precise coordination will be crucial. Rooster, you'll be leading Alpha Squad."

Rooster acknowledged Cyclone's assignment with a nod, already mentally strategizing the squad's approach.

The room was filled with the low hum of discussions as the briefing continued. Rooster delved into the details of Mission Alpha, working out the finer points of the strategy with McAllister and the other squadron leaders, Jake and Nat, thank God. The intensity of the planning session heightened as they considered the potential threats and challenges they might face in the upcoming mission.

As the briefing concluded, Rooster gathered his reports and notes, feeling the weight of responsibility settle over him. He exchanged a few words with McAllister, emphasizing the need for vigilance. The young pilot nodded, his determination evident.

Rooster stepped out of the briefing room, his mind was still preoccupied with the ongoing investigation and the looming mission. He needed to keep a close eye on the squadron, especially Mark, and ensure that every member operated as a cohesive unit.

The airbase buzzed with activity as pilots prepared for the upcoming mission. Rooster made his way to the hangar, where the sleek Hornets were prepped and ready for the sortie. The ground crew worked efficiently, performing final checks and loading the necessary munitions.

They were leaving in the morning but you had to be sure, after all.

Rooster approached his Hornet, running a hand over the smooth surface of the aircraft. The adrenaline of the upcoming mission coursed through his veins, and his eyes moved briefly.

Mark lingered in the periphery of Rooster's vision, engrossed in his own pre-flight preparations. The tension between them remained palpable, a silent undercurrent beneath the bustling activity of the hangar. Rooster's instincts told him to stay vigilant, to keep a watchful eye on Mark's every move.

First he wanted to befriend everyone.

Now he was isolating himself.

After the breach.

Suspicious.

Rooster took a deep breath, grounding himself in the present moment. He couldn't afford to let personal tensions distract him from the mission at hand. The squadron's success depended on their unity and focus, and Rooster was determined to lead them to victory once again.

So he could go back to Bea.

“Bea.”

“Yeah?”

“Your aunt is…very strange.’ Shells muttered as the two cleaned the Hard Deck, Shells was leaning on her mop while Bea lifted the chairs so the floor was easier to clean, “I mean, it’s not like she’d know about Mark and Miranda but um…wow.”

The rhythmic sound of the mop against the floor echoed through the empty room,the lingering scent of cleaning supplies mixed with the familiar smell of the ocean created an odd but not entirely unpleasant atmosphere.

"Well…yes. True" Beatrice said, glancing at Shells as she maneuvered a chair into a corner.

Shells shrugged, her eyes narrowing in thought. "I don't know. It's like she has this...otherworldly air about her. And the way she talks, it's like she's always dancing around something, you know?"

Beatrice chuckled, setting another chair down. "That's just Aunt Martha being Aunt Martha. She's always been a bit mysterious. I remember the time she convinced me there were fairies in the garden."

“I mean, that’s pretty cute.Reminds me of my grandpa telling me there were monsters under the bed." she pauses “Didn’t help he was a vice admiral, made everything…uh…scarier.”

Beatrice sighed, taking a break from arranging the chairs. "Aunt Martha has her own way of looking at the world. She's intuitive, and sometimes it feels like she's tuned into a frequency the rest of us can't hear."

Shells chuckled, resuming her mopping. "Well, if she has any insights into what's going on with Mark and Miranda, now would be the time to share."

“Shells, Aunt Martha's insights usually come in the form of cryptic riddles. It's like she speaks in a code only she understands."

"Fantastic," Shells muttered, rolling her eyes. "Just what we need right now."

“Well,she told me to patient and to be careful.” Bea shrugs, “Better than nothing.”

"And what about Rooster? Martha had any insights about him?"

Beatrice paused, her brow furrowing in thought. "Well,she did mention something about navigating storms. Metaphorical ones, I think."

Shells chuckled, a sly grin on her face. "Sounds like Martha's way of saying, 'Good luck dealing with your complicated pilot husband.'"

Beatrice rolled her eyes, a fond smile tugging at her lips. "Something like that. Aunt Martha's advice always feels like unraveling a puzzle. But you know, she's family, and family has a way of seeing things we might miss."

"Yeah, well, I hope she sees something helpful in that mystical crystal ball of hers," Shells quipped, wringing out the mop. “And the kids? Are they with your parents?”

As Beatrice continued arranging the chairs, she nodded in response to Shells' question. "Yeah, Mama and Papa took the kids for a little while. They wanted to spend some time with them, and I thought it would be nice for the kids to have a change of scenery." she says

“Besides, it helps them feel at ease, they just want to help now that Rooster is deployed.”

“Did you tell them about…Mark and Miranda?”

Beatrice sighed, a moment of hesitation flickering in her eyes. "Not yet. I don't want to worry them unnecessarily. We don't have concrete evidence, just... suspicions. And you know how Mama worries."

Shells nodded in understanding. "True. It's a delicate situation. We don't want to cause unnecessary stress, especially for your parents. But if things escalate, we might have to let them in on it."

Beatrice nodded,"Exactly. Let's focus on what we can control for now. Aunt Martha's cryptic advice aside, we need to stay vigilant and keep an eye on Miranda without causing a panic."

"Agreed," Shells said, glancing around the now-clean Hard Deck. "Well, this place is spick and span. I think we've done our duty as cleaning warriors for the day."

Beatrice chuckled, placing the last chair in its designated spot. "Cleaning warriors, huh? I like that title. Maybe we should get capes."

Shells grinned. "I'm all for it. We'll be the superheroes of cleanliness." she smirks “I’m sure aunt Penny wouldn’t mind but you holding up okay, Bea? I know it's not easy with Rooster away and all this tension in the air."

Beatrice smiled, hugging herself. "I'm managing, Shells. I am a lot better than I was, honestly."

Shells smiles, hugging her close, “I’m glad, girlie, you deserve a break, you know? Hey,I’m going to see Ev tonight,she asked me to bring her some of our old college supplies, wanna join?”

Beatrice considered the invitation, "Sounds like a plan. It's been a while since I caught up with Ev. I could use a break from all this."

Shells grinned, her enthusiasm contagious. "Great! It's a plan, then. We'll raid the old college stash and have a mini reunion."

As they made their way out of the Hard Deck, the atmosphere seemed to lighten, the weight of responsibility momentarily lifted. And…Beatrice felt lighter, much lighter.

#bradley rooster bradshaw #rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw x oc #top gun maverick #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw x female reader #bradley bradshaw x named reader #tgm oc #tgm fic #tgm fanfiction

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chemistryread · 1 year

Text

she is both hellfire and holy water

- part V

and when we kissed one another for the first time I could swear I heard our souls whisper ever so quietly, 'Welcome home.'

jake seresin

callsign: scorcher

part IV

disclaimers/tags: cw for panic attacks. female!reader!aviator. loverboy jake is weak for girls. slowburn and angst.

a/n: a seriously long boy but it's worth it, a lot happens! i promise happy chapters are coming they're just so hard to write, personally. for now, i hope you guys dig the angst and the tension. and thank you so much for 300 followers :)

tagging: @thedroneranger @shanimallina87 @peakascum @cherrycola27 @iwantmyredvelvetcupcake @untoldshortsofthefandoms @thecraziestcrayon @lovingperfectionsblog @cornishkat @is-this-a-febreze-commercial @murdermornings

It's like your friendship with Hangman had never started. Everything is back to how it used to be.

Sleepy conversations with Early Riser Bob in the mornings, quiet nights playing board games with Yale and Harvard, competitive training sessions with everyone.

Your callsign rarely leaves his lips, and vice versa.

Except…It's not the same.

You miss him. Making him laugh, exchanging glances when Rooster says something you know will make him huff in annoyance, quietly asking him to drop it. And he'd listen. And you'd feel important.

Apparently, once you've entered the Jake Seresin gravitational center, you can't fully leave it. Attempt to and you'll have to part with entire segments of your being, struggling to feel complete again until you return to it. To him.

It's your fault, you could've been no one to him for the rest of his life, and stayed in the sidelines without ever feeling that pull. But, selfishly, your fingers danced over the flame and now you're burned forever.

Patched together, lacking.

To be fair, you thought you'd be able to handle it better. The way these things usually go is you mentally prepare for it to end. And if they take too long, you leave first.

But Seresin was such a whirlwind. He dove head first, told you to hold onto him and just when you were about to give in, the burn in your arms too much to bear, he left you swinging your arms alone again. Desperately trying to stay above water.

You had no time to prepare.

It all crashed and burned in ten days. That's slow for someone named Scorcher, maybe you should celebrate.

Rooster certainly would join.

He laments that you had to go through that crashcourse friendship with the bastard (his words) but says he's sleeping better at night.

Back full-time to late night talks with Phoenix, you doubt that. But alright.

With so much happening lately, you're relieved to have a boring day ahead.

No air time. Just a lot of studying. Most of the pilots hated days like that, coming up with whatever games they could to make the clock tick faster.

That's when you're most thankful for Bob, changing seats with Phoenix so you and him can quietly read up and take notes without any interruptions.

You're leaning on the palm of your hand when he pokes you with the eraser tip of the pencil.

"Hm?"

"What happened between you and Hangman?"

You look at him in disbelief.

"Et tu, Bob?" He laughs, a bit of a blush covering his cheeks. "Nothing really happened."

"C'mon, you were attached at the hip for a whole week and all of a sudden you're ignoring each other like your memories were wiped. Nothing happened?"

With a sweet smile, you turn to him.

"Nothing happened."

"Then why is he staring like that?"

For the first time today, you finally dare to look in his direction. Bob was telling the truth. His body is turned sideways on the chair, rigid and uncomfortable, looking past Coyote and fixated on you.

Despite the queasy feeling it gives you, you let out a chuckle and whisper back to the intrigued man by your side, eyes stuck on Hangman.

"I don't know, but he kind of looks like he saw a vision of the future, right?"

He chose a terrible time to take a sip of his water, spitting it out and letting the metal flask slip from his fingers, loudly hitting the table.

Both of you break into giggles.

"Something funny, Floyd?"

As simple as that, everyone in the room is looking at the three of you.

You roll your eyes, patting Bob on the back, letting him know you'll handle it.

"Nothing that would amuse you, Seresin. If you're trying to drain everyone's energy just so you can have a little bit of attention, you're not gonna get it from me. Worry about the notes in front of you."

Normally, the rest of your group would be laughing along, but with recent events you can understand the confused looks they have on.

Your eyes are glued to the plasticized pages, disinterested in his existence. As it was.

The implication isn't lost on him either. He's exhausting. He tires people, consumes an entire room's spirit for a drop of attention. And you won't let him do it to you.

He fucked up, didn't he?

But he did get you to speak. For the second time. A second chance, maybe.

"Why don't you try me, Scorch?"

It's entirely possible that your eye just twitched, hearing him use your nickname again. It feels so right to play dirty with you.

"I was simply telling Bob you look a little haunted, staring at us so determinedly. Having trouble focusing? Something on your mind?"

At the tip of your tongue. He knows what you're asking. Are you embarrassed? Is it killing you inside?

Yes, it is.

But he doesn't go down so easy. He'll get you back, loving or hating him, but not indifferent.

"Mhm, I don't know what you mean. But there's a little birdy who could maybe shine a light on it, he seems to be on top of everyone's business. Isn't that right, Rooster?"

Shit, you had it under control. Did he really have to bring this up?

Wide torso angled to a laid-back Bradley, whose long legs bounce under the table in anticipation of a fight. In the time you've known him, he's never been one to feed into conflict except when Seresin is involved. You can relate.

"Don't hate the player, Hangman, hate the game."

Despite the constant questioning, you hadn't disclosed what happened to Rooster. So he doesn't know that, in fact, he did play a role. That's why he sounds confident, and painfully unaware.

"I have to hand it to ya, Bradshaw, conniving is not something I would have ever called you. But hypocrite makes sense."

"Can both of you sh-"

You try to interrupt before something too revealing is said, but Bradley cuts you off, the honey in his eyes turning darker.

"I don't know what you're talking about." Hands closed in a fist but voice too controlled. Honest. "Whatever you fumbled has nothing to do with me. Everyone knows the only thing in your way is yourself, that's why you'll always be second fiddle."

It's not an unfair assessment. Jake constantly sabotages himself, be it because of greed or his loud mouth that doesn't land him on the good graces of people he might need.

However, second fiddle is harsh, and takes away too much of his merit. Immediately, your stomach turns and you get an itch in your throat to speak up for him, even if he doesn't need the help.

The room waits for Lieutenant Seresin's reaction, that sharp toothpick spinning in between even sharper teeth. You had never noticed how menacing he can look, big and intimidating. Unfortunately, the very core of your body really enjoys looking at him right now.

"One near-death experience and you think you're in a position to say who's the best? Sure, but it's my ego that will get someone killed."

Slow down, Jake. Coyote reprimands him, Phoenix scoffs and Bob clicks his pen incessantly by your side. You turn to him and take it off his hands, a little too brash.

The man on the table behind you shoots up at this, understandably more offended at the accusation that he would ever let something so deplorable (in Bradley Bradshaw's eyes) as ego endanger his colleague's lives, pointing a finger in Hangman's direction.

"Everyone in this room would pick me for wingman, and you know that. I'm reliable. You're greedy, too damn self-obssessed to put anyone else first, and that, Hangman, is how you get someone hurt. I'm nothing like you. If you think Scorch-"

"Roo, stop."

All eyes turn to you, but you're looking at Bradley, feeling completely betrayed.

His cheeks are bright red.

"Seriously?" Your eyes beg him. Just stop. "You would fly with him watching your back?"

You scoff. This has nothing to do with flying.

Still, the dismissive treatment of Jake is too much for your persuaded heart to take. The words come out too fast.

"You have, and I remember he was pretty crucial in both you and your pilot coming back alive."

His mouth hangs open, trying to come up with something.

Maverick shuts everything down. "Look at the time, you've played enough. You're all dismissed."

"This ridiculous faith you have in him…you'll end up like your backseater."

It's quiet, mumbled under his breath as he looks away, squinting and shaking his head.

Your spine straightens, on guard, but you still shiver.

"What the fuck did you just say?"

You can sense the others' confusion. No one knows, but him and Maverick. No one else needs to know. He's aware of this.

"I'm not gonna watch that." Bradley is the only one to stand up and walk out, with you screaming for him to get back, furious.

Mav has to come over and snap you out of it, both hands on your shoulders.

"You heard him!"

"He's just upset."

"There's being upset and there's being a fucking cunt, Mitchell."

You could hear a pin drop on the pristine floors.

"Lieutenant, watch it."

Shame finally hits you under Pete's disappointed, warning glare.

"I apologize, sir, that was out of line."

"It's fine, just go hit the showers. All of you. I'll talk to him later."

Head down, you start to walk away when Bob pulls on your elbow.

"I'm sorry, Scorcher, I shouldn't have brought it up. I feel bad."

There's a considerable depression in between his brows and you smile softly at him, appreciative of his genuine tone, throwing an arm around his shoulder.

"Don't worry, I know you didn't mean to start anything."

"Oh, so this is all church mouse's fault? What a turn, ladies and gentlemen. Again, how am I the bad guy?"

His tone is still provocative. Your smile falters, and you sigh, before following Rooster's steps. His smug grin drops too, and he can hear Javy's squeaky chuckle behind him.

Natasha juts her shoulder out and hits him as she squeezes through him and Floyd, yelling after you.

"I'll go find Rooster!"

"That's great." You yell back, clearly ironic.

He watches you go through the doors, taking too long to notice the other three are still there and observing him with funny faces. So he coughs, rolls his shoulders back and makes his own exit, a little self conscious.

Whatever just happened with you and Rooster could be used to his advantage.

At this point, he doesn't remember what exactly caused you to stop talking.

It had something to do with Bradshaw flapping his wings all over shit that wasn't his to take care of. So shouldn't he be mad at him, instead of you? Still, why hadn't you come to him? Were you really so comfortable with the idea of things going back to how they used to be?

This is what he can't get over in your…friendship. It really feels like you could let go of him at any time. He doesn't like being treated with indifference, not when he spends all his time looking for you in every room, hoping you'll show up when he's alone so you have no choice but to acknowledge his existence, wishing that whoever is currently talking his ears off would just shut up and stop wasting perfectly good time he could be spending listening to you.

He knew, no matter what, Javy would sit by his side. Phoenix would have at least one dig reserved for him, Bob would try to hide his smirk. Rooster would not so subtly fight with him for Maverick's praise while flying. The captain, in turn, would push him to his limit. (Nobody knows, or would understand, that he feels it when one of the Dagger Squad members is sick or has a day off). If he sat alone at a restaurant, someone would come and talk to him.

Jake had people's attention. Good or bad.

And yet, no one can fill the void you create when you exit a room without even glancing back to him. It crushes his lungs, makes him anxious. He misses you.

But you can survive without him, and he kind of hates you for it.

In the locker room, he's considering throwing in the towel and pulling you aside, when your phone buzzes in your hand. You pick it up with a grimace.

He remembers the day he eavesdropped on another phone call of yours. It had worked well for him, ultimately, to be there for you. With the look you made when you answered, leaving in a hurry, maybe he should…

"Jake, hello?" Javy's fingers snap him back to reality. "Man, it's not a joke, huh?"

"What?"

He can't help but flex his muscles while he changes into a clean shirt, sniffling and looking away, putting himself back together. The sides of his head are pounding.

"You're, like, falling for Scorcher. Fast and burning, like a comet. In a week? That's crazy, even for you."

Jake huffs, pulling on his dog tags in annoyance.

"Coyote, what the fuck are you talking about?"

"Yeah, for all that bravado, you're kind of soft when it comes to girls." He frowns and Javy laughs at him. "You know it's true, and it's fine. You're a hopeless romantic, my friend. Just don't let the others figure it out or you'll never hear the end of it."

He wants to shove his head inside the locker.

Of course it's true, he's known it all his life. High school girlfriends, academy flings, friends of his friends' dates, even women he met at random…Jake was never the heartbreaker.

The way he explains it to himself is that he's used to people being interested in him, in that sense. Liking, dating, maybe loving. He deals with that part just fine. But they always fizzle out. People get sick of him, or maybe they never saw him as long-term, while he was still completely dedicated to them. He finds himself constantly being left behind.

So when a new person comes in the picture, that spark of hope that he has finally met the one who's not going to move on from him burns again. Who reminds him of the love his mom and dad have always nurtured for each other. He thinks the only reason why it's still alight is because he's so tired. All he wants is someone who will stay because they want to, who won't let things turn into 'I can still make this work'.

If his brain is trying to convince him that someone is you, he might need to schedule a medical appointment to check everything up there. He doesn't think he has ever met a girl so willing to not keep him around.

No, it wouldn't be you.

"And what does that have to do with her?"

Coyote snickers at the funny way he says 'her', carried with such solemnity. It's irritating how one tone change can expose so much unresolved tension.

"Oh, so when you keep me up at night, pouring your heart out because you just don't understand her, you're actually talking in your sleep? That's impressive. You can go for hours, and you sound mostly coherent-"

Jake shuts the locker with a thud.

"I don't think she cares."

Brown eyes widen exaggeratedly.

"Were you not in there, just now? She went against Rooster for you, hard. And you didn't even have to ask, it was completely for free. She has to care, a little."

"Maybe. I don't know."

It's possible that you were defending him - that in itself makes the knot in his stomach tighten - and you belive he was good enough to fly with. And he'd be honored, if he was asked.

Pragmatic, though, mentioning what he did for Rooster and Maverick once. A sensible answer. Relevant, not personal.

"Well, don't you want to know? Have you tried telling her what you tell me?"

"That's literally the worst idea you've ever had."

He can't. It's so stupidly vulnerable and needy, it'd scare you right out of the Navy, probably.

"C'mon-"

"No, man, she's not- Usually, I go out with a girl, we get to know each other and I tell them how I feel. This, we haven't even…I can't just drop that on her lap. It's insane." He swallows his own bitterness, imagining how pretty you'd look speechless at his confession. "She would eat me alive."

Javy chuckles, embracing him around his shoulders, carrying him out into the hallway.

"Am I a bad friend for wanting to see that? Look, you can either mope or do something about it. But I understand if you're too scared."

Adolescent teasing spilling from his words, targetting the proudest corners of Jake's brain.

"Coyote, I'm a six-foot-tall fighter pilot with two confirmed air kills. I'm not scared of anything." His eyes are sharp, but his chest still deflates a bit. He shrugs. "Why do I have to wave the flag?"

He can tell he's truly testing his best friend's patience.

"Because she's not the one jealous of Rooster, is she?"

Jake stops, struggling to speak in his frustration, words scraping up his throat. Javy is looking back at him with a challenging look. Are you seriously denying it?

"I'm not jealous. But you saw the way they act around each other, right? It's in plain sight, and she does nothing about it."

Coyote groans, and picks up his pace, forcing him to jog to catch up.

"She did do something about it, dumb fuck. You're refusing to see it. That's what I don't understand, usually you'd be jumping at this obvious opportunity like a shark, but you overthink everything she does, it's weird." Trailing off at the end, he slows down to make his next point. "And you know what? She's currently mad at the one guy causing you problems, not to be an asshole but it's the perfect moment. Just go apologize for your little tantrum."

As they walk past another office, you come out of nowhere and nearly trip over him.

"Oh, sorry."

You're about to slip away again when he swallows so dry it's audible in the bustling corridors, feeling Coyote's fists dig into his back. So he holds the back of your arm, gently. Despite of your hurry to escape, you stay, and he feels the spark crackling.

"I need to talk to you."

You look at him in a adorably confused way.

"Is it important?"

A low and resentful laugh comes up from his chest, debating whether this humiliation is really worth it. "Are you kidding?"

"What? It's- I really need to speak to Maverick right now, it's kind of an emergency."

Your eyes avoid both men and Jake's grip on you narrows, protective.

"Why, is everything okay?"

For the briefest moment, he sees your bottom lip wobble. But you breathe in, smiling again.

"All good. Look, I promise I'll look for you later, alright?"

He nods, and you're off.

How many migraines can one woman cause? The space in between his eyebrows feels sore.

"Did you hear that? She asked if it was important."

"Dude, you're in trouble."

"I know."

Coyote laughs wholeheartedly, and promises to pay for his lunch out of pity.

As he leaves the library, Jake's looking to fit in that talk with you before the end of the day, searching around the base. He finds you leaving Cyclone's office with Maverick.

"If you need anything-"

"I'll yell." You wink at the older man, pushing your grin to grow just for him. He thinks it's nice, this bond the two of you have. "Now, do you know where Hangman could be? I promised I was gonna look for him when I had time."

The captain laughs, crossing his arms. A rare moment of a non-chalant Maverick coming out. His short frame is usually vibrating with restless energy.

"Something you wanna tell me?"

It's stronger than any force in his body, and he smiles to himself. Probably looking goofy in his dressed down uniform, a jacket loosely tied around his hips, leaning discreetly on a wall where you can't see him. A teenage boy spying on his crush in the school hallways.

"Stop. I can't deal with that on top of everything." You reprimand your friend. With what, him? Is he such a bother? "Actually, I don't know what he wants. I was in a rush to find you, didn't even bother to ask."

"I'm sure it broke his heart."

"Would you quit it? Keep talking like that and people are gonna think we're hiding something."

"But you are." Your head tilts at the older man's words and Jake feels a cold shiver run down his spine. He almost jumps in, scared Maverick is about to sell him out and tell you all about his notekeeping, but you pinch the man's arm first. "Hey, okay! Can I give you some advice?"

"Nope."

You're walking away, Mitchell keeps talking.

"What's the worst that can happen?"

You stop, but your back is still turned to him.

"Not everyone can recover from heartbreak as well as you do, Mav."

That intrigues him.

Pete's hands are on his hips, looking ready to give you a cinematic speech.

"I don't recover, I run. And I see you doing the exact same. A spoiler, it won't work."

Another pilot bumps right into him, and he has no choice but to finally make himself visible, loudly apologizing to the young woman.

You turn, looking pale as a sheet, speechless. Indeed, pretty. Probably wondering how much of the conversation did he hear.

Ignoring Maverick's irritated look - likely not appreciative of being spied on - he walks tall and confident in your direction.

"Who's threatening to break your heart, Lieutenant? I can deal with them for you. All you gotta do is give me the word."

He wants to know what's going on with you. But his calculated grin doesn't give that away.

"Lieutenant."

Maverick smiles at him, too knowing. His mind is constantly filled by thoughts of how how easy it would be to take him on a fight. But for now, he smiles back.

"I'm sorry, sir, do you mind if I steal her?"

Your posture corrects itself when you breathe in, risking a look at Mav and trying to sneakily roll your eyes.

"I'm right here."

Beaming in your direction, intensifying his sickely sweetnes to a ten-fold just so you might roll your eyes at him too.

"Got a minute, Scorcher?"

Instead, you beam back at him, just as forced.

"Of course, Hangman."

He leads you to the open space outside the gym, where an attempt at keeping a small garden is failing miserably.

You're cracking open a bottle of sparkling water, noticing the disgust in his face.

"Such a baby." You whisper. "Of all the things to be disgusted to put in your mouth, you chose this beautiful creation of man? Ungrateful."

He takes a seat on one of the benches and looks up at you, watching the long sip you take, thinking about the last word you uttered.

A grin spreads on his face while you look completely satisfied by the cold drink.

Grateful that you're not being short with him, that you look easy and comfortable. It's all he wants.

"Good?"

You let out an 'ah', making him laugh again.

"Missing the lime." You put the cap back on but don't bother to take a seat. You sound a little more rushed now. "So, what do you need?"

His eyes hit the back of his head.

"C'mon, Scorch. Don't play dumb." You only look at him, completely unphased. "Fine, if that's how it's going to be…I'm apologizing."

"Wow, such a big little guy, I'm proud of you."

"Jesus, fine, don't accept it-"

"Seresin, I don't need you to say sorry because you feel bad about this morning. That one is not on you, you have no conscience clean up to do."

"That's not what I'm doing!"

His eyes squint and it hurts, hand wiping over his features to relax them, give him some relief. Bugged out eyes resemble the way Rooster looked at you earlier, pressuring and expecting.

"Then, what? Please sum it up, I need this day to be over."

Your chest is bobbing up and down, gradually faster, speaking in a breathy short whisper.

"Are you okay?" He makes a move to stand, opening his arms for you, but you only swat your hand in the air and brush him off. He sits down again, sighing. "I'm sorry about the other night, at The Hard Deck. I got mad at the wrong person. And it was childish."

Your hands are raised in surrender, still too casual.

"Look, I don't think you were wrong for getting mad. I- I understand that what Rooster did was bad, it would get a rise out of anybody." Softer now, your eyes don't shy away from his. It's equally satisfying and nerve wrecking. "And I'm sorry I freaked out on you out of nowhere. I just-"

You take a long, shaky breath. Humming through gritted teeth, like you don't want to admit something.

"What?"

"I don't like feeling like a fool."

His face scrunches up. When did that happen?

"Did I make you feel like that?"

"No. Potentially." You take in his puzzled expression and shake your head, finally taking a seat next to him with a big exhale. "I'm bad at communicating. Surprise, huh? Not really. Well, when you said those weird little words, figure out, I assumed the worst. It is hard to believe you would start this all of a sudden without an agenda behind it. People like you, but you're not exactly drowning in friends, Jake. And then Rooster, whose opinion I consider a lot- His words got to me…What can I say? I wanted to make sure. I think I was a bit childish as well, and I didn't believe in you like I usually do, and I'm sorry too, for that."

It's choppy, the way you speak. Uncomfortable. Scratching the tip of your nose until the skin looks irritated. Getting quieter at the end, hesitant about your confession that you tend to believe in him, it wasn't just once.

He tests your limit, curious.

"'Make sure'?"

"That he wasn't right, that you weren't fucking with me."

Shame is overriding your features, embarrassed to have even considered as much.

He never thought being careful would come back to bite him in the ass this bad. Your evaluation is fair. He isn't full of friends. But when you said you assumed the worst, you really didn't. The worst would be that he had earned having no friends by being a bad person. It seems you have scrapped that idea entirely, not entertaining it for a second, and he's thankful.

Selfishly, he lets you sit on that shameful feeling a little longer.

"How would I even fuck with you?"

"I don't know, like in a She's All That bet type of way?" You cringe and he laughs. "Which would be fucking cruel, so if I am some sort of challenge, I'll kill you."

"I love that movie."

"Me too, underrated."

"Again, sisters, so…"

"Sure."

"And, sweetheart, you're too good for a stupid bet. I wouldn't waste your time."

Instantly, he feels silly under your skeptical gaze. Shuddering with a need to take his grievances out on you by kissing your doubts dead, unapologetically.

"Are you saying I'm not romcom material?"

Chin up, teasing him again. It's dangerous how easily you can dictate his mood. Put him down or lift him up. So much time spent building his walls just for you to come around and never even have a glimpse of them.

He feigns annoyance, throwing his head back and huffing.

"Do you only hear what you want to? I'm saying you're not a one-dimensional romcom lady. You're better. I don't need a bet or removal of glasses to see you're easily the girl of many guys' dreams."

It's way too much, and you definitely won't buy that, but you laugh. Shy and bashful, not exactly mocking him. Encouraging his transparent flirting. He takes a nervous inhale, and it turns into a laugh too before he can prevent it. So much goofier than his usual attempts at hitting on a girl. But that's expected when you're around, he doesn't have much control.

"Wow, you must be feeling really bad about things, Seresin. No need to wag your tail at me so hard, I don't want you to hurt yourself."

Isn't he doing exactly that to himself, over and over again, for you?

He might thrive in that hurt, though, because he stands up straighter, shoulders brushing yours.

"I told you it's not about that." Swift glance to you, half-lidded. Honey-sweet. "I'm a lover, not a fighter, beautiful."

"Could've fooled me."

Idiot. Out of all the people in this world, you're the one his heart has been pining for the hardest he's ever felt, and you're also the blindest to it.

It's exhausting, but he's persistent. Every time he thinks of giving up you smile, and he smiles back.

Tides of affection rising inside, salt licking up his throat, threatening to overflow and wash you in words of praise. Constraining his own airways to avoid spilling.

In the midst of his fight with himself, you had started to speak again.

"-earlier, I don't know what that was."

Rooster. Right, he forgot.

His eyes flick down to your knees, neurotically being rubbed and squeezed by your hands. Something feels wrong.

"Yeah, I think you were stickin' up for me? Confusion is a normal reaction for folks who stumble onto defending my honor, usually by accident."

Your snort is muffled by the bottle still on your lips, and he watches as you lick them slowly. Eyes skimming over the plants, shy again. Big breath in, he thinks he hears it hitch.

"Shouldn't be. I was defending your competence, but still. You're a good pilot and Rooster shouldn't have said that. Any of it."

He feels good about your small compliment until he notices the way your brows furrow and eyes fix on one spot on the floor. Angry.

"Scorch, are you sure you're okay? You're losing a little color-"

"Yeah, yeah, fine."

The speed with which you try to stand up doesn't agree with your body, and the sound of your open palm hitting the wall is loud. He's behind you as quick as he can.

"Hey, what's going on?" Your body turns around, using the wall for support, eyes screwed shut. "Talk to me or I'll drag you to medical."

Chewing the inside of your cheek, shaking your head.

"I think I can hold it down. Just give me a minute."

On the brink of a panic attack. Shit.

"That's not how it works, Scorcher. C'mon, we're walking." Trembling fingers curl inside his hand, and the broken state of you paralyzes him. Fuck. He pleads. "Please. I don't know what to do."

Usually, he sits in a corner and counts random numbers plus seven, humming his thought process, until it goes away. But that's what works for him. It could be completely useless to you.

And he doesn't want you to know he goes through the same thing sometimes. Not now, it wouldn't instill any confidence. He wants you to feel safe with him.

"I've got this."

"Scorch, I don't think-"

"For fuck's sake, Seresin, please! I need one second to breathe today, please! Why do all of you think I want to hear what you think I should do? Give me one fucking second!"

It's erratic, and the tears are rapidly soaking your cheeks. An excruciating sob pushes through your teeth, and the sound of you gasping for air back is even more painful to hear.

Both hands on your shoulders, keeping you upright as your head lulls forward, hiding your crying face.

"It's okay." He tries his best but his voice still wavers, dizzy with how fast things were spiralling today. "You've got time, Scorcher, I'm not going anywhere. You're alright."

"My dad called."

"You don't have to explain, just br-"

"He wants to see me. Thinks we need to talk about my decision to not be part of the family. My decision."

You scoff and it's rough on your throat, grating. He's worried your lungs seriously will give out.

"Don't go."

More than ever before, the glare you send his way is blatantly calling him an idiot. Then, it softens.

"Already said I will." A bitter laugh escapes your lips, chapped from the anxious swiping of your tongue over them. "Cyclone heard about the fiasco this morning, told me I should be more respectful, watch my language. He's disappointed. And Rooster. Fucking asshole. I don't even think he realized what he said."

Sweat is seeping through your shirt, your nostrils are flaring. He doesn't miss how you clutch at your chest when your friend's callsign is spilled from your lips like a secret, almost crooning. Another harsh gasp.

"Scorcher, shut the fuck up, I swear. You need to breathe."

"Jake, my backseater died. And it was my fault." The grip on your shoulder grows stronger, unsure if to support you or him. Every muscle in your face is fighting against it but the water pooling in your eyes is too much. He's never seen you so scared. One more short, painful inhale, and you're rambling again. "I always pushed too far. I was a brute and it cost me so much. My engines constantly caught on fire, my instructors told me I needed to slow down. I was too fucking stubborn to listen and she died."

Somehow, despite the lack of air, your voice grew the more you spoke. You're flushed, paths of tears more noticeable down your neck as the veins pop. An unmistakeable loathing look on your face.

"I'm sorry."

"I think her family hates me more than mine."

It rolls out in a deep exhale. Weight off your shoulders, because they relax and you can breathe a little better.

The sudden sobering up of your features gives him whiplash, and he feels his own chest cave in.

"Stop it."

"God, and what if Bradley really believes it was on me? If that's the pilot he thinks I am- I can't-"

The sobs keep coming, your hand covering your mouth now, desperately trying to silence yourself.

He has no idea what to say. So one hand snakes around your back and brings you forward, the other undoing the bun that was half-ruined from how recklessly you scraped it against the wall during your rant, threading through the locks and scratching your scalp calmly.

"Just focus on breathing." Both of your palms fall flat against his chest while yours continues to move up and down too fast. "Like I'm doing, okay?"

Reputation aside, Jake had never been through something like that. Not like you and Maverick.

Oh. Everything makes sense. What binds you is tragedy.

Maybe he was lucky.

He thinks of your callsign. It adds up. So fast you started fires on your own aircraft. Also a reminder of your worst moment.

Slowly, you synch up with him, quiet and exhausted.

Rooster had practically implied that ego and carelessness, traits Jake possesses, is what killed your backseater. But you were the one flying when she died. As you said, it's too likely that he didn't realize the point he made until it was too late.

And yet, your resentment is overpowered by the high esteem you keep him to. Pure admiration. At the same time he thinks it's treacherous to put that much praise onto someone, he understands. Lieutenant Bradshaw has always had that special factor to him. A better man than all of them, that's just how he comes across and no one really knows why but it's convincing. (Infuriating.)

He wants to tell you 'fuck Rooster, I know it wasn't your fault' but he doubts it would have enough impact to demote Bradshaw and placate your anxiety.

Don't bother comparing, Seresin.

When he thinks your breathing has estabilized, his hands drop to your hips, and you let him guide you back inside the gym. Thankfully empty. He stacks three steps on top of each other and sets your legs up on them. Both of you laying on mats, concentraded on calming down.

Your eyes don't move away from the ceiling as you address him.

"I'm sorry. About everything."

His hands finally stop moving on top of his stomach, and he looks at you quizzically.

What do you have to be sorry for? At the bar, that was mostly him. This morning, he started it and all you did at the end was defend him.

Maybe you regret ignoring him. But he brought that unto himself as well.

"I appreciate it, but you have nothing to apologize for."

With a shrug, you take a sip of what can only be disgustingly warm and bland sparkling water. He doesn't see the appeal, but it seems to truly delight you.

"Can always apologize for something."

So it's a thing he likes. The crying made your voice hoarse, and you're sniffling. He traces your profile, lingering on the lines around your mouth as you pout, the stickiness to your eyelashes when you blink too slow. Skittish. It shouldn't make him so needy.

He decides to tease, easing you back into a comfortable mood, letting you know everything is okay.

"I guess. Like the silent treatment?"

You turn to him, passion coloring your face again and he's relieved. He mirrors your exasperation, raising his eyebrows.

"Hey, you were the one who left the conversation! If anyone had to speak first, it was you! And…I was right here the entire time, so."

Were you waiting for him to apologize, then?

"Could you be more stubborn?"

"Yes!" Both of you laugh, and he thinks your eyes soften before moving away from him. Your voice is definitely quieter, now. "Jake, there's one more thing."

He doesn't hesitate.

"Anything."

"I might be pissed at him right now, but what you said about Rooster and I was wrong. You got mad about him making accusations, but then so did you."

He looks up at the light, closing his eyes due to the brightness.

He won't disagree. You had gotten in a fight with Bradshaw because he thought you couldn't make your own judgement of people, and then he basically did the same when speaking of your relationship to the pilot.

Still, don't you see it? Even more so after this morning.

"I know, but everyone jokes about it. Why is it a bad thing when I say it?"

There's the jealousy getting the best of him again. Tired of the man getting away with things he is pushed against the wall for.

"Because I thought you were smarter than that." I expected more from you. He can feel a lump in his throat. "Honestly, Bagman, you got to know me pretty well these past few days. I'd dare say more than most of the squad. That was such low-hanging fruit. I thought you understood things better than thinking Bradley and I could ever have a thing."

He does. He gets you. But do you get that Rooster is a threat to whatever it is you and him have going on, right now? Especially if he's bold enough to come up to you and tell you to stay away from him.

"Does he understand?"

You gather the condensation sweating off of the bottle and flick it at him.

"Yes, he does, actually."

Wiping the wetness from his face, he sits up.

"What do you mean?"

"Hm, I really don't want to prove you right."

A huge smile breaks out on his face at the sentence, until he remembers what prompted it. His stomach sinks.

"Oh my- Is he in love with you?"

"You said like! And no, he isn't." So you did notice the different wording. He should remember that. "I just meant we have had that conversation before. And we both agreed it isn't like that, at all. No chance in the world."

"You might need to talk about it again, with what I saw today I don't think he really absorbed your conversation."

He doesn't bother to hide the tartness coating his tongue.

"And he's territorial? You two need to stop this pissing contest, it's pathetic." He starts to protest, but you cut him off, harsh. "Look, Rooster is extremely protective, even if you don't want him to be. It's just his nature. He's also shit at separating things, and I think he gets confused sometimes. He cares too much, let's that lead him and before you know it he's got his foot in his mouth, in a mess of his own making. Saying things he doesn't mean, doing things he doesn't want to do. Dating people he doesn't even like just to avoid asking the right one, like an idiot."

Getting carried away, like you forgot you weren't talking to yourself, you stop to take a breath lest you walk into another breakdown.

One of the many things he appreciates is that you have a gift for clarifying things. You are terrible at communicating, but if he commits to it he can decipher the point behind your commentary.

So he understands Rooster a little better now. Not that he should ever risk saying it to his face, but the man is pretty emotional. It makes sense that he would spill his feelings before even understanding them, and getting it completely wrong in the process.

The only part he didn't quite catch was the dating. It sounds like Bradshaw is having love problems that have nothing to do with you, which is great solace.

"To be honest, you lost me there at the end."

"Nevermind. The point is he's hot-headed, and his heart is very loud. It's hard not to get wrapped up in- Well, in him. Bradley's constantly changing, you can't get stuck on a thing he said once." Even more reasonable is the assessment that he's a volatile variable. He had managed to keep that down in his flying, remaining ever the cautious pilot, and he seems to be working on that. But in his personal life, there's no Navy regime that can help him organize his thoughts and emotions. "You and I might measure what we say, but he doesn't."

For the second time today, Jake and you are put together, made to look similar, or at least compatible. In your words. That sense of companionship he had built with you starts to come back effortlessly.

He takes a moment to look at you, really look. Inspecting. It's long enough that it makes you uncomfortable, smiling and shivering at once.

"Why are you telling me all this?"

An awkward chuckle leaves your lips.

"Why do I tell you anything, Hangman? I don't know." He beams genuinely at you, your uncharacteristic loss. "Just hope I won't regret it."

He rolls his eyes again. "You won't."

"Good."

A moment goes by where all he can hear is the sizzling from the bottle, the birds chirping at the sunset, and conversation in the hallways. He almost wishes this is all he ever had to do.

"We should go. I don't know about your lazy ass but I have a ton of stuff to get to."

"Yeah, I need to go find Rooster anyway." You let him pull you up, pushing him off just a second later. "Ladies first."

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

Once again, nobody mentions the flip-flopping between you and Hangman.

Except Phoenix.

Phoenix is very interested, trying to get information out of you any chance she has.

"I'm just saying, you've always had a thing for him."

"Excuse me? How dare you?"

She laughs at your dramatics.

"I could've used it against you, when you drunkenly told me he made you feel something nobody has in years. But I didn't. I was a good girl and now I deserve to be rewarded."

You hand her the jar, licking jam off your fingers. "Do you realize how spoiled you sound right now? It's kinda hot."

"Tell me!"

A groan leaves your lips, probably giving too much away.

"Tasha, there's nothing to tell you. I swear."

Nothing except that the animosity was the reason you hadn't slept well for as long as you hadn't been talking. It had made you wish, just for a moment, that it could be like before. When he had no insight into your ways, and how you feel about him. Sure, he doesn't know the whole of it, but he must've picked up on how easy you give in to him, right? The smiles, the look in your eyes. How you forgave him and welcomed him back without much of a fight.

For all the time you kept it tightly restrained, your affection is untying itself in front of him quite spectalularly.

Anxiety over how he thinks you feel about him hurts your lungs, so you force those thoughts away, thinking that at least you're speaking again.

What a joke, that such a thought is comforting.

"That's not fair! Out of both of us, I'm spilling my feelings? I'm supposed to be the tough one."

"Please, the competition here is who is more emotionally repressed, not tougher. Let's not kid ourselves."

She points the bread knife at you, threateningly, before putting it down with a frown. "Am I winning or losing?"

"Great question."

You chuckle at her adorable rage face.

Hangman walks into the kitchen, with a sugary tug of his lips to you. You nod back, feeling your smile reach your eyes, albeit shy. Rooster enters the room right behind him.

For days, you've been knocking on his door at night asking to talk, and he never answers.

Honestly, he's not someone you're willing to lose, independent of the fact that he's the one who screwed up. So you abandon the pasta you were (barely) helping Trace cook and strut right to him, pushing Mickey and Reuben out of the way, nails locking around his bicep and dragging him out.

"Ow! Scorcher, take it easy."

"I'm strong but not that strong, so I know you're walking with me out of your own volition, quit whining."

Stopping in the middle of the hallway, he turns to you with pursed lips, mumbling. Whatever.

"So?"

"So? Rooster, what you said was fucked up. I'm giving you the chance to make up for it. If you don't feel like it, that's fine, but I'm telling you it would be a shame."

"Why's that?"

"Because I need you."

His footing shifts, and the shoulder leaning on the wall goes up, taken aback. Surely he knows this, you just never said it.

Spending the summer and every possible holiday with him, Pete and Penny, you became some sort of small family. You'd never actually put that much weight on their backs, but it's the closest you've got to one. Losing Bradley would leave a pretty big hole in your life, and now he knows that.

You take a deep breath in.

"Me too, you fucking dipshit."

It's a relief to be able to laugh with him again.

The muscles on your back seem to relax for a moment. Of course he does, he shows it all the time. It's still nice to hear it.

You step closer to him, gritting your teeth.

"Why did you shut me out? Why did you say that? What the fuck are you doing, man?"

You punch him in the shoulder and he doesn't even bother to unfold his arms to stop you, taking it.

He sighs, voice a little weak.

"I'm not sure, okay? A lot's going on and I keep fucking up- I think I needed to feel like I could be there for one person- Whatever." Your eyes squint, wondering what you're missing. "I am sorry, though. Really, Scorch, what I said was unacceptable and I'm so sorry."

Your arms are crossed now too, shielding from his possible answer to your next question.

"Do you actually think it was my fault?"

"What? No! No, I didn't say that-" Realization flashes through wild hazel irises and he licks his lips, clapping both hands in front of you almost in a prayer. "I know that you're not that sort of pilot. Scorch, you have to believe me, that's not what I meant at all and I'm so, so sorry."

"I believe you." Nodding and smiling softly to reassure him, although it becomes a frown. "But neither is Hangman. You also know that."

He nods, swiping his nose with the tip of his fingers, thinking.

"Okay. I don't understand, alright? Why Hangman? I thought you said it would never be someone in the Navy. And out of everyone here, him? Really?"

A snort escapes your lips. You should be more embarrassed, maybe scared, that Rooster figured it out but it's nice to examine it with someone else who isn't Mav or Penny. Who isn't outright supportive of it.

"When did it hit you?"

He stands up straighter, a dumb look on his face.

"Wait, I'm right? I was hoping I was wrong." Your boots connect with his shin, he sighs. "After that morning and putting together all the times you stuck it out for him, it was pretty obvious. Again, why him, Scorch?"

There's a shared feeling of defeat between you. His because he couldn't stop Jake from getting to you, and yours from falling for it.

"I don't know, Roo, if I could have picked it out, it probably wouldn't have been this way either. Too painful. But I can't, so now I'm stuck with him. And he's not that bad, at all."

"You know, I waited so long to see that dumb smile on your face and tease you about it, I can't believe it's because of him. He really needs to take the fun away from everything, doesn't he?" It's lighthearted, but then he's grimacing again. "He worries me."

"I know, he worries me too. I'm not, like, planning on doing anything about it, you know? It'll probably go away. But he's not a bad person, there's no reason to treat him like shit. Plus, we get along, what's the harm?"

"So much, Scorcher, you haven't heard his stories on boy's night-"

"And I don't want to." You put your hand up, cutting him off with a head shake. "Nothing is gonna happen between us, alright? We'll be going home in a few weeks and this will all be over. In the meantime, I need to you to lay back and stop getting so worked up about it. I know you care. I know, ok? You don't need to keep proving it."

Bradley visibly slacks at that, and you wonder how much that need to look after the ones he loves really eats at him. You smile, thinking Trace can use someone to lean on, make her relax too.

"Fine, I'll try. But, Scorch, if he ever-"

"You're right around the corner, eager to kick his ass, I know." He flexes his biceps and you roll your eyes. You know something that will cut this gun show short. "Oh, and I'm sorry I called you a cunt to Maverick."

Comically fast, his arms deflate, and his mustache wiggles, trying to process what you just said.

"You called me a what?"

Hopefully subtly, you jump to the next subject.

"So, you and Tasha, how's that-"

"Nope. Not doing that."

He leans off the wall and starts walking back into the rec room. You catch up to him.

"C'mon, let me help! God knows you fucking need it."

Still denying your efforts to pry when both of you return, all eyes in the room turn to you. Probably wondering if you're yelling at each other in the good or bad way.

Barely past the threshold, Rooster picks you up from behind and throws you onto the couch. Remote control, Uno cards and phones fly to the floor. He knows you hate being lifted off the ground like that, makes you feel like a rag doll.

"Oh, expect revenge, asshole."

Throwing one of the pillows in his direction, he ducks and you end up knocking a glass of tomato sauce on the counter. Phoenix has the meanest scowl on, so you run to her, hugging and apologizing. Rooster comes around to smear the spilled content on both of you.

You can hear Payback say Yeah, they're okay.

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

Another win at dogfight he is about to put under his belt, and he hopes everyone knows he won't shut up about it until the next match. The secret is to have Bob on his team and Maverick on the other. Trace's WSO has a great arm, turns out, and the captain is short and old. Makes everything much easier.

Rooster likes to claim you and Trace for his side. He doesn't mind, it gives him a perfect excuse to graciously tackle you. His favorite move is to follow you with a hand on the small of your back.

He's a little mean when he pushes you away, always looking for the ball. He can multitask. But he comes back to tease, and sometimes apologize. Large hands on your shoulders, shaking you from behind, thumbs rubbing the base of your neck and down your spine. Obnoxiously smug. Don't worry, Scorch, you'll win someday. You look up at him, then let your eyes drag low on his body, forcing him to subsconsciously flex. All you do in response is cackle, pushing him backwards and running off to steal a point. Distraction is a great tactic.

The last time he caught sight of you was before the fourth or fifth game, however.

Everyone is eating the food Penny brought out when you return.

Your name is halfway out of his mouth when Rooster speaks it, over him. They turn their heads at each other, unsure of what to do or say. The man has been a lot less vocal about his disapproval of your friendship, but still grumpy about it.

Mav gets to you first, stopping you just a few steps away from the table with a hopeful expression, both arms reaching out for your shoulders.

"So?"

"I had a great lunch."

At this point, Jake has stood up from the table, pretending to get another water bottle from the cooler while he keeps a close eye on the two of you.

"That's fantastic! Wow, that's really-"

A bitter laugh comes from your lips.

"Mav, he didn't show up."

"Oh."

The captain looks really confused.

"But the food was good and the waiters were very nice. Not a complete waste of my time."

As always, there's humour to your words. Even from afar he can tell it's a little forced. Mitchell's frown is an important giveaway too.

"Scorch, I'm so sorry-"

"Don't be. You know I was half expecting it. People don't change, Pete, not people like him. Not for me, anyway."

Concerned by the crack in your voice, Jake finds himself walking to you without realizing.

"There you are, missing case. Where have you been?"

You struggle to keep eye contact, and his worry grows.

Green irises meet his own, silently asking him to take care of you. It's a weirdly barefaced request, but one he will tend to immediately.

He watches Maverick strut away after patting you on the back.

When Jake looks at you again, your eyes are glimmering and wet. This time he knows what to do. Sort of. In a spontaneous decision he will probably regret, he takes your hand without thinking of who's watching and leads you inside the empty bar.

"This is stupid, I'm fine. Mav's being over the top."

He's rummaging through the place, hoping Penny wouldn't mind since you two are such good friends. Maybe you can defend him one more time.

"Do you want anything? This fridge's full of sparkling water, and I think there's some lime I can cut up here-"

"Jake." You laugh. "I'm fine."

He still picks up one lime to cut in half and squeeze, picking the coldest bottle at touch.

"What happened?"

"It's not a big deal."

"Tell me. I have nowhere to be."

His small joke gets you to losen up a little, picking at your nails when you choose a stool to sit on.

"I went to meet my father."

He comes close to chastising you, gripping the knife tighter and spinning it with a shut jaw when he remember it's not his place. Surely, if a call from him had left you in a panicked state just days before, going to see him wouldn't treat you much better.

Finishing the drink, he hands you the glass with a (modestly) smooth slide that makes you roll your eyes, amused.

"Thought you weren't keen on seeing the old man."

You shiver, arms trapped between your legs, crushing your chest and making yourself smaller.

"No, I never am. But I can't really say no because he's gonna ask why and if I say I don't want to see him it would only result in a long-winded, emotionally manipulative, guilt-trippy speech about me being his only daughter and how I break his heart and whatnot."

He stands across from you, listening.

As if you had only now remembered he was there, a shy laugh bubbles out and you look away, around the room.

"That makes it sound worse than it is. I'm gonna stop dumping all this shit on you, I promise."

"No, no. I want to hear it. Tell me."

Awkwardness lingers briefly when you take a sip of the water, then rolling your shoulders back. Your eyes are a little cloudy when they look back up, piercing into his, and he's not sure what to make of them.

"Thank you, for the other day."

"Don't worry about it."

Incredible how you pull softer words from him, the customary punch clearly missing from his intonation. No, more like the ends of a wave delicately bouncing off of rocks, painting them in creamy foam.

A moment so quiet and mellow, warm, he forgets not to stare and grin, quickly readjusting his RayBans on top of his head and raising one eyebrow. Tell me.

"I lost it. I always do when he calls. I haven't physically been in the same place as him in a while, I didn't expect to any time soon either. We don't need to. He also said his family would be with him. And, I don't know, I was just so uncomfortable with the whole idea. Then again, saying yes was really my only option. So I went to Maverick to ask him what I should do."

Another instance where you prove how much you lean on the old timer.

"He told you not to worry about it, I'm guessin'."

You smile.

It's not the time, but he feels a little self-conscious. Unsure of how to stand, where to put his hands. Chilly in the room, too aware that he has small shorts on and nothing else.

His eyes drag over your form. You look good. Linen dress shirt half-buttoned over your swimsuit. Effortlessly elegant.

"Yeah. Anyway, I told Mav I wasn't even sure he would actually come. He's done that before. Promise he's coming to see me, or that he's going to call, and then doesn't. But he sent me a text with the address, and the time. He made a reservation. So I went. And I waited. He never showed. At least he picked a good restaurant for me to eat by myself at."

Asshole. You don't owe him anything, you didn't even want to go, you went for his sake, and he has the guts to…Jake bites his tongue.

"I'm sorry. Did he tell you why he couldn't come?"

"No, uh, haven't heard fr-"

Your phone rings. A full name on screen, no picture, visual confirmation of your stranged relationship.

Jake straightens up, taps the counter with his fingertips when he sees you take the phone to your ear, ready to leave you to it.

But then your hand sets on top of his, curling against his palm gently. Asking him to stay, but not keeping him there if he's not comfortable.

"Hey, dad."

Your voice is raspy and strained. He settles back against the counter.

"I did. It's okay, I understand."

Playing with the straps of his Apple Watch, furrowed brow, eyes trained on the movement of your fingers.

Talking to your father clearly puts you in a bad place. Small, anxious. The fire that gave you your callsign almost extinguised. He wants to stand behind you and physically pull you up, tell you it's okay. You're not whatever he made you.

For now, he lets you unlatch and latch his watch over and over again, while his thumb runs up your forearm cautiously.

"Dad, that's not true. It's not what we agreed on. I'm not saying th-" Muscles visible when you clench your jaw, whatever fight you were about to put up dies in your throat. Sighing, chin almost stuck to your chest. "No need to call me a liar. You can look through our texts- I'm not calling you a liar either. No, I'm not stupid."

Your hand leaves him to attach to your neck, scratching and itching. He takes it back into his grip.

"Sorry, is there a point to this call? Yes, my fault, I'll take it. Yeah, bye."

Letting the phone slide back on the counter, you pull your hand, cracking your knuckles. Quickly wiping two fast tears dropping.

"So? Why didn't he show up?"

He asks, tentatively. You laugh, glancing at him briefly. The sight of you crumbling, putting yourself down so your father can walk over you, forces his fists to ball up instinctively.

He remembers you saying you wanted peace. Not fighting.

"Forgot to ask. I don't think he was even planning on following through."

"Maybe he was."

"He said I make him physically ill." The drink muffles your bitterness, and he notices it doesn't seem to please you as much as the other day. "I just wish it didn't affect me so much. I got so anxious from the prospect of having to sit down with him and his family, talk about myself, hear their judgements of my life choices…Wringing me up for nothing."

Jake thinks back to the past two days, remembering a few moments where Maverick had to call you out for being distracted. He didn't think much of it.

"Got good at hiding it, huh? I couldn't tell." You snort and he sighs. "You deserve better."

"Please." Your eyes snap up at him with something close to disgust. "What does that even mean?"

"That you deserve a-"

"Deserve? Why do I deserve anything? What have I done?" Your shoulders are pushed back, collarbone popping out, not bothering to even breathe before speaking. This is something you've spent time thinking about, and you clearly don't agree with him, vocalizing just how much with foolproof certainty and fiery eyes, a bitter laugh coasting your tone. Your fight's back. "No, look, I was just born into a shit family that didn't like me. Some people are lucky, others are not. You deal with it, and life goes on. No reason to spill any tears."

You say, cringing at the way your voice cracks.

He misses his parents, should call them tomorrow.

Circling the bar, he finally takes a seat on the stool next to you, hands coming up to your face to push your hair away. He wants to reprimand your harshness, but knows he has no right in doing so, not when he's just as hard on himself. You'd probably ignore him, anyway.

"I just meant it's not your fault."

You roll your eyes at him, barely holding back a snicker, but lean into his touch either way.

"Whatever. I like the smell of your sunscreen. Fruity." With a funny little pout and a sniffle, you make a request. "Can we please get shit-faced tonight?"

It's Penny's birthday.

The Hard Deck is being tended to by other staffers while Maverick's protegés occupy her home.

The house is decorated with balloons and little Navy ribbons, probably with the help of Amelia and Pete. It's charming. They look more like a family every day.

Penny's boyfriend catches him taking in the space and offers him an IPA. He takes it thankfully.

"Cute, right? They're actually all fake, from a halloween shop the kid and I found at the mall."

He laughs, taking a sip.

"That's nice. Can't wait to have something like this."

It slips out.

When Maverick is around, Jake finds himself being a little more true to himself, reluctantly sincere. Maybe he needs to be liked, more than envied.

At first, he wanted Captain Mitchell to feel threatened by him. Forced to see his time is long gone, and he should make space for Hangman. But that feeling has been abandoned in favor of a more genuine desire for a good friend and mentor.

It's weird, and it makes him shudder involuntarily, blushing at the smug smile on Pete's face.

"I bet. If it's Scorcher, the two of you together can have enough pins and ribbons to decorate a whole house without needing to buy any extra."

He nearly crushes the beer can.

"You're really not scared to get dropped on the ground, old man? If your ribs aren't sore enough from the game this morning I can ammend that."

Pete laughs, shaking his head.

"When I liked a woman I would go for it, let it explode into tiny pieces, and then get cocky and proud about it. After I had her, even for just a moment. You're doing it backwards, Lieutenant. It's hard to watch."

A hard exhale out of his nose and he's stepping up to his captain. He thinks about what he's going to say.

"How?" Is all that comes out. How can I have her? She's impossible.

Mav simply laughs again, open hand pointing to the garden, where you're playing beer pong with Fanboy and Fritz. She's right there.

Speaking of, you have forgone beer entirely, sticking to all things distillery. Jake is doing his best to keep up with you, and he's clearly handling it better.

A couple of hours go by where he sneaks in a glass of water in between your other drinks. You thank him every time, aware of what he's doing. Keeping you hydrated without taking your fun away. You had a tough week, this is earned.

But he stays mostly away from you. Giving you space, unless you ask for him.

Maybe it's the warmth of the alcohol, but he thinks your eyes look for him more. Even as you sit on the swing in between Bradley and Mickey, with your heads leaning back, laughing at whatever, tipsy and relaxed. You find him, even upside down. Glint in your eyes, toothy smile, dimples exposed by the moonlight. He can never get the image of a wolf out of his mind when you look at him like this.

He has to readjust on the stool, feeling restricted in his tight pants. Thankfully (is it?), Rooster draws back your attention, and he watches you make all sort of appalled faces and wild gestures as the man tells you something, making that ridiculous mustache dance when he giggles at you.

It's not innovative at all. When you're drinking, the both of you go into different subjetcs (usually, Rooster's bad romantic choices) and it always ends in you making fun of him. Before, he would hold back his amusement, not willing to let you know he was listening. But he can feel the pulling of his lips as he continues to look at the way your curls sway when you shake your head and cover your eyes, laughing at your friends with your entire body.

Javy drops an ice cube down his shirt and he's grateful for the excuse to drag his eyes away from you.

At some point later, he's chatting with Payback when you stop by his side. Leaning on the mini bar, fingertips soothing your own forehead.

"Jake." Whispering covertly, stopping your massage to tug on the sleeve of his shirt, like you don't want to offend your loud friends. "I need silence. Desperately."

He laughs, leading you inside the house, ignoring a few stares. He also ignores the overwhelming pride he feels at being your preferred rescue.

You end up in the guest bedroom, laying stomach up on the bed and enjoying the calming sound of the ceiling fan.

He sits on the floor, back touching the frame of the bed, looking at you over his shoulder.

"How're we feeling?"

"I'm okay." You drag it out, nails tracing circles on the bedsheet. "You?"

"Sober as a cow at the slaughterhouse, honey."

Your nose twists up at his words.

"No you're not. Every time I had a drink, you had one, and I'm not sober. Not drunk, but at least woozy."

"Woozy?" He mocks you, taking in the heat in your cheeks and the slow movement of your chest. You squint at him, and he shrugs. "I can handle my liquor, beautiful."

Humming, you turn on your stomach and lean your chin on the back of your hand, face inches away from his.

"I'll be the judge of that. Let me take a look."

His own eyes narrow at that, but he doesn't move, taking the challenge.

You're assessing him intensely, pursed lips, orbs searching for any signs of drunken haziness on his face.

He's testing himself too, but on something else completely.

How long can he watch your mouth without you noticing, or retreating? Can he stare at the way your curls bounce on your head without moving to touch them? One of the straps of your top tentatively slips from your shoulder, inviting his fingers to feel the skin. Can he fight that feeling?

Finally, your gazes meet. So close. That spark of hope burns stronger in his chest every second you don't pull away. Instead, your eyes get really small and, despite the dark nature, they've never seemed brighter. They're smiling.

"Yeah, okay, I think you're good."

With a pat to his chest, you return to your position on the bed.

A huge exhale slips past his slips, shaking his head. What the fuck is he going to do about you?

"Okay, are you ready to go back now?"

He can't stay in here with you. The windows are open, and the humid air is making him sweat.

"Do you think anybody is going to slip and hook up?"

His arms feel wobbly and he gives up on pushing himself to a stand. "What?"

"Weird question, I know. But-" You rub your nose and point at him, looking a little devious. God, he should've chosen less fitting trousers. "It's the drunkest everyone's been since we finished the uranium mission months ago. It should happen, actually. Everyone's young, attractive…We should go tell them it's okay. If it happens, it happens."

You're on your knees now, on top of the bed, hands clapped together as if you made the greatest proposal he will ever hear. He stands up slowly, struggling to keep his eyes away from your bare legs. Skirt so short it really wouldn't take much longer than a two-second-flicker to find the end.

"I'm way too sober to go suggest an orgy to my aviator squad."

Your head falls back, groaning, and you push on his shoulder.

"That's not what I said! I meant two people who have been putting this off for way too long and should just get it over with. I even have someone in mind."

His hand closes around your wrist, your own still flat against the left side of his chest, afraid you can feel his fast heartbeat.

"You do?"

"Yes, let's go find him."

Oh. Rooster?

With your hand enveloping his, you pull him out of the room. He's a little dizzy from the way your fingers are laced together and the idea you might be taking him with you to proposition Bradshaw.

It's impossible not to look at the sway of your hips. Noticing how far your skirt was pushed up from your quick movements, he sighs and reaches for the hem to pull it down when you suddenly stop, his groin teasingly connecting with your behind.

He huffs and you turn to Jake with a helpless look, covering his mouth with your free hand. You meet his furrowed brows with widened eyes, subtly nodding back.

Down the hallway, the most unexpected sight hits him. Rooster. And Phoenix. The taller keeping her trapped against the wall and speaking close.

Searching for an escape, you shove him inside the bathroom, locking the door behind you.

One hand still on the knob and the other over his mouth, you can't silence your own laugh.

"Oh, shit."

He pulls your hand away, finally, whispering.

"What the hell?"

Your gaze is a bit glossy but mostly soft.

"Maybe I should've told you." His jaw hangs open, struggling to form a sentence. And your lips spread beautifully, biting on them to muffle any noise. "This has been going on for a while. It's very, very complicated. As it could only be with those two."

"That explains a lot."

"Doesn't it?"

"Wait, is that what you meant? The two people who just needed to get it over with?"

Your back is glued to the wooden white door, breathing a little uneven from the shock you had just experienced. His arm comes up, large hand planted next to your head and covering the light switch.

He's a moron, isn't he?

"Yeah. What did you think I meant?"

For a second, us. And then, Bradley, even though he really shouldn't since you assured him there wasn't anything between you.

Why had you assured him of that, exactly? Is it normal, for a friend to promise another they aren't in love with someone else? Is it normal for a friendship to nearly end because you argued over someone else possibly being in love with you?

"Nothing. I- Nothing. Didn't think anything." The pad of his thumb runs across your cheekbone, up to your ear, barely making contact. You're so clear to him, even with the lights off. He clears his throat, but doesn't move or look away from you. "So, Trace and Bradshaw? Finally?"

You bite your lip again, the most shy he's seen you all night.

"Yeah, uhm, before everyone returned to Fightertown, they ran into each other at a country nightclub or something. Sort of happened. That's how they put it. Ever since, they've been tiptoeing around that line."

"Mhm, thought Trace could do better."

"Me too." You laugh, lip still in the grasp of your teeth. Letting it go with a soft hum and he can't look away from the redden spot. "No, I'm kidding. I think it could work, if he stops being such a slut."

A powerful laugh begins to rumble through him but you cut it off, hand back over his lips. He still laughs, trusting your palm to cover the noise, head leaning even closer to you.

When it finally dies, he pushes your hand away again, boldly setting it on top of his shoulder.

"Sorry. Hey, not to side with the guy, but there's nothing wrong with that."

He teases, tsking his tongue, practically purring. As lowly as he can.

"Absolutely, but I don't want him to fuck up Phoenix's self esteem, leading her on just to eventually go back to the usual bubbly Malibu Barbie every weekend."

You're absentmindedly playing with the chains around his neck as you speak, the jingle of the dog tags echoing in the room, and he can hear his breathing fail when your knuckles brush against the warm skin. Your eyes follow your own movement. You know what you're doing, right?

"Mhm, is that what you think of him?"

You shrug. "Navy guys are all the same."

"Is that what you think of me?"

At last, your eyes snap up to him, pupils slightly expanded. Index crooking inside the collar of his carefully half-buttoned dress shirt.

"Why shouldn't I?"

No reason. He never gave you one to believe he was much different. Maybe he wasn't. He liked the bubbly blonde girls, with perfectly manicured nails and impeccable make up. Sultry and inviting, friendly. There's absolutely nothing wrong with them.

But this, whatever this thick air between your bodies right now is, it's a lot more earnest. Butterflies in his stomach happen if an attractive person smiles back at him, which is often. Feeling like he has no stomach, no body he can control, that's exclusive to you. A pepertual electric buzz, a magnetic field keeping the atoms that form him together that glitches when you're near. A sharp pain shooting up his neck, pounding against his temple.

You can probably kill him, this close.

So when he leans and lets his nose graze yours, he knows the risk against his own life he's taking.

Your inhale is violent, nearly disrupting the moment, and he protects it by removing all the space between you. Letting his hand slide to your hair, angling your head up when he tugs on the locks, planting ghostly kisses behind your earlobe.

Then your jaw. Your chin. The side of your mouth. And you're allowing him. He feels brave enough to finally take your lips.

It's citrus-y, like the drinks you had been mixing all night. Refreshing and hurtful in the same kiss. Like something he needed all his life, so much that when he finally gets it, it has the ability to ruin him if he's not cautious.

He feels you part them, both hands sliding from his chest to the back of his neck. Careful, gentle. Trusting. He shudders against you, pushing your frame even closer to the door, gripping your waist to make sure you stay right there (as if he wasn't completely trapping you).

Your tongue sucks him, and he knows he moaned into your mouth.

With revenge on his mind, he lets one of his hands slide down your leg, curling around your thigh and squeezing all the way up to the curve of your ass. Hands looting as much of your skin as he can.

When he thinks he's going to get what he wants, a vocal admittance from you, someone tries the doorknob.

Both of you jump, still attached to each other, taking a step away from the door.

At the stranger's persistence, you can't help but do something about it, speaking over the grating sound of the lock not budging.

"Yeah?"

No, no, no. He whispers, arm tightening around your back.

"Oh, Scorcher?" Rooster's voice intrudes, washing in from under the door. You let your head drop against his chest, nose digging into his sternum. Adorable, and he feels his cock twitch. One hand over his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose, stressed. "What are you doing in there?"

"What do you think, dunce?" Your fingertips knead the knots in his shoulders. Probably a method to ward off your anxiety, but he enjoys it nonetheless. "Just had too much to drink."

"Hm. Why are the lights off?"

Both of you huff. Why does this idiot have to be so nosy?

"My head hurts."

Proud of your answer, Jake loses himself in the moment and gives two sturdy smacks to your ass. You look up at him, a warning. He mouths an apology.

"So, you wouldn't happen to know where Hangman is? It's just, you walked in with him and now you're in there. Where is he?"

Jake strains his neck as he looks up, running out of patience. Both of his hands are now hot on your waist, soothing the part of the skin your top doesn't reach. He's asking God to send Bradshaw away.

At least the other man's voice is doing wonders to keep his hard-on from growing too fast.

"How should I know, Rooster? I said I needed the bathroom, he walked away." A beat of silence, an idea obviously crossing your mind as you speak up again. "Have you seen Tasha?"

He smiles down at your silhouette in the dark. Of course. Just as they are in this problematic situation, so are the other two across the door. Phoenix is likely right behind Rooster, gripping his hand and hoping their cover is not blown, holding her breath the same as Jake.

"No. I'll go find her for you. Ow-" A thud is heard from the other side, probably Trace hitting Bradley, because that is a stupid thing to say if they plan to be absent. "I- I tripped over the rug. Okay, see you Scorch, bye."

Jake hears muttering slowly fade away, and you finally breathe, closing your eyes.

There's a small frown on your lips.

"Hm, I feel kinda bad. I really wanted them to…"

Trailing off. Jake chuckles out loud, struggling to breathe.

"To fuck? You feel bad because you didn't give up the bathroom for your best friends to fuck in?"

A pause. He can see you're blushing. Then, a snort.

When the laughing starts, you can't stop for a whole minute, holding your stomach and wiping away tears from your eyes.

He laughs along with you, less entertained by what just happened, more carried away by your intoxicating presence. All the while, his hands keep you close, at some point bringing you fully to his chest. Rubbing your back, holding your neck, kissing the crown of your head.

As you finally calm down, he's waiting for you to say something. Knuckles brushing your thighs as he plays with the hem of your skirt, inexplicably obssessed with tugging on the material. Something of yours.

Waiting. If Javy could see him right now, he would probably call him a pussy. Do something about it.

"We should go back. If Rooster noticed we were gone, others must have too."

The thermal shock from your body dettaching from his is powerful.

He's gasping for air while you're unlocking the door and checking the hallway before walking out, completely forgetting him. Leaving him behind.

What the fuck is he going to do about you?

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

Maverick's staying over, obviously.

Everyone else shared Ubers there, except for Fritz. But you swore to never get on the back of a motorcycle with him.

Your eyes scan the place for Phoenix and Rooster, even though you know they're probably occupied with each other. Before you can slide the glass door open, Jake calls your name.

"Hm? What is it?"

"Scorch." Immediately, a knot forms in your stomach. He sounds…tired? "Are we gonna talk about it?"

"Should we? I mean, textbook definition of mistake."

The words come out before you can reorganize them. What you meant to say was kiss me again, please, because it's an obvious mistake and the only thing that can save me from myself at this point.

Too late.

"Yeah, no, I was gonna say the same thing." Oh. Of course. He chuckles, looking away from you. "What happened to if it happens, it happens?"

"I didn't mean…us."

What a coward you are.

You hadn't said it with him in mind, because you didn't want the excuse of alcohol to tarnish the context. If it were to ever happen. Seems like you couldn't avoid it regardless.

"Right."

Jake's eyes are shaped like sharp slits. Naturally intimidating, and gorgeous. He's giving you a once over, mouth in a thin line, clenching his jaw. There's no warmth in the green orbs, not really.

And then he nods his goodbye, sliding the door open and leaving you alone.

As if his presence was the only reason your knees held you up, you're face-planting the wall right next to the door. The thud alerts someone, Penny, who sprints over once she sees you hitting your forehead and groaning.

"Jesus, kid, are you having a crisis?"

"He kissed me!"

"Hangman kissed you?"

Your body spins back around and you almost knock her tall figure straight to the ground, shushing her aggressively.

"Yes."

"That's terrific, Pete and I were right! No?"

You grab her by the shoulders. This is a crisis.

"Penny, that is the worst thing that could've ever happened."

"Whoah, I don't think it's the worst-"

"We kissed. And it was as amazing as it was short. I'm never gonna forget it, let alone get over it. What the fuck do I do now?"

She smiles, smoothing your hair. The gentle touch reminds you of Jake's fingers locking and tugging on the strands.

"Go on a date?"

"Penny! This is serious!"

"Alright, I know." The woman always had cold, cold hands, squeezing you on the shoulder. "Do you want Mav to give you a ride back to base? I think some of the squad is planning to continue this party somewhere else, maybe even The Hard Deck, but we're staying in."

"No, it's okay, Rooster is supposed to drive. I'm just gonna wait for him to show up again."

"What do you mean? He's right there. Talking to Seresin, actually."

Your head snaps to your right, watching the sandy blonde smirk at Bradley. Something screams that you should interrupt that conversation.

Squeezing Penny's hand back, you kiss her cheek with a final 'happy birthday' and walk outside, straight to your designated driver.

"Hey, Roo. Can we go?"

You ignore Jake's gaze on you, the other pilot smiling peacefully at you. His warmth always a comfort, so glad to have him.

"Yeah, of course." In a quick change of the atmosphere, Rooster clasps his hand around your arm and pulls you to his side. Lifting his beer in Hangman's direction. "The guys here were just coming up with a bet. Whoever manages to pick a pretty girl up from The Hard Deck this late wins. And here's the best part, he accepted it."

A bet? You laugh at the irony.

Your heart sinks when you remember how he said you were too good for such a thing. Apparently he isn't. Now that you think of it, challenges are entertaining. Guys tend to think so, anyway.

The grip tightens around you. Drunk, and slightly mean.

The roll of your eyes is delayed, and uncharacteristically damp.

"Sounds fun. Where's Natasha?"

Bradley's hand falls back to his side, shrugging and bringing the bottle to his lips.

"Think she took an Uber back already."

That doesn't sound good. You're gonna have to pick up the pieces of that as well.

"Brilliant. C'mon, I'll drive." You pick the keys from his pocket. Letting your eyes flicker to Jake, he's watching intently, frosty look still present and ungiving. You smile softly at him. It takes everything in you to sound playful. "Good luck."

You walk away without checking whether or not Rooster's following, confirming it only after you wave goodbye to a few of the other aviators and they wave back twice.

Honestly, it's hard to tell who you're more pissed off at.

Bradley, for clearly screwing up with Phoenix, although you don't know how yet. (Maybe you shouldn't ask, for your own sake). Yourself, for letting that kiss happen. Hangman for kissing you. Bradley again for bringing up the bet. Yourself for being this affected by the idea of Jake finding a beautiful woman to spend the rest of his night with. (Because of course he will. With a face like his, he will probably walk into that bar and all the pretty girls and boys will leave their dates to line up for him.)

Mad at Jake for being so good-looking. Sweet. Charming. Unreal. For surpassing your expectations, for ever giving you attention and making you feel like this. All while not being yours.

Rooster falls asleep on the passenger seat, and you cry. Turning on the radio so it doesn't wake him up. No, you weep.

You have all these feelings stored away, saving them all your life. Not because you believe in soulmates, or anything like that. You wanted to give those to other people before, gradually, or even partially. But it never felt good or safe enough.

This thing with Seresin, it does not feel safe. But it feels good, so good. And yet, you just don't know what do with them. How do you give yourself to him? When you haven't trusted anyone quite as much as you want to trust him. When he's so incredibly special. How do you do it without destroying yourself along the way? Is it possible?

You're scared.

The tips of your fingers brush against your lips, remembering what his were like. In an instant, you're biting into them hard enough to rip the skin, despairingly trying to forget.

You speed the rest of the short way, waking Rooster up when you park and throw the keys at him, leaving him to his own devices as you walk inside.

Phoenix is already asleep in your room, so you silently cry the remainder of your tears inside the bathroom. When you're done, you lay quietly in her bed, letting her envelop you in a warm embrace, sniffling against her neck.

"Okay?"

"Are you?"

She doesn't answer, instead hugging you closer.

#jake seresin x reader #hangman x reader #tgm x reader #tgm fanfic #top gun maverick fanfiction

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choicesprompts · 3 months

Text

Round Robin Kick-Off

All right, here we gooooo!!!!

I spun the wheel and here is the order writers will go in:

@angelasscribbles

@christina-stark-skarlet-stileto

@sender-paulson

@alj4890

@kingliam2019

@peonierose

@aussiegurl1234

@whenyourheartskipsabeat

@thosehallowedhalls

@karahalloway

@tessa-liam

@twinkleallnight

@harleybeaumont

THE RULES:

So we do need guidelines to keep things organized but if you, for example, need more time on yours or need to be skipped and added back somewhere else in the lineup because of real-life stuff going on, just let me know. I am wildly flexible and the main point of this is to have fun!

I have written a beginning which will be posted later today. Writer number 1 will take over and write the next chapter, taking it in whatever direction they want.

Each writer will have 4 days from handoff to submit their chapter.

Hand-off occurs whenever the previous writer is done. So they might take all four days or they might turn it around in a few hours. So be prepared.

Once again, if you need anything adjusted for you, just let me know and we can juggle some things.

Chapters should be between 300 to 2,000 words.

Have fun! Be creative and don't be afraid to think outside the box!!

When you post, please tag @choicesprompts and #choicesprompts #roundrobin and tag the next writer.

#choicesprompts #round robin 2024 #round robin #choices fandom #let's go

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acourtofmenandthirst · 2 years

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Runaway (Part III of III)

Eris x Reader, finally finished the last part! It took me a lot longer than I wanted, so I hope you all enjoy the final chapter. I am hoping to have more one-shots posted soon! Part II here.

Warnings: Smut, angst, domestic abuse

Word Count: 11.3K

Years and years passed, yet the two of you remained the same. Lovers at night, feigning strangers during the day. You had spent nearly every night in Eris’s bed; he indulged in you, worshiping your body and your moans, while your hands were wrapped around his tender cock.

You had managed to get your hands on some contraceptive tonic, one that masked his scent on you. It worked well enough thus far - none of the others noticed anything out of the ordinary, though Callula had her suspicions. She had eventually stopped questioning you, instead settling for keeping tabs on you from afar, inquiring only when she knew you disappeared for the night and were late for work the next morning. It was never enough to raise suspicion, though, as many of the staff left during the evenings, either to spend the night amongst each other or frolicking through the Autumn Court.

You and Eris began to be more careful, too.

While you maintained the storyline that you were having a secret affair with one of the farmhands in town, never revealing too many details such that nobody could sort out exactly who, few grew curious. You were a nobody. Callula managed to keep the secret well enough. And Eris - well, Eris could do nothing wrong. He could do what he pleased. No one was in a place to question the High Lord’s son - any of the young males, in fact. Eris certainly led by example; his younger brothers cavorted amongst the Courts themselves, as he once had. But only the youngest was foolish enough to fool around with another Autumn maiden, though, rubbing it right under Beron’s nose.

Since that night Eris had bedded you, he had hardly been able to let you go since. Each evening, he’d winnow to your room, whisk you away, and have you returned before the sun rose the next morning. When that was not enough, he had found the perfect opportunity to have you again when you were assigned to clean his bedchamber. His hunger for you could not be satiated; he was a starving man. He’d contemplated it daily: that bond that drew him to you.

That’s what it had to be. He couldn’t be convinced otherwise. He’d never felt anything like that before, and in his now 300 years of age, he’d heard many tales of the Mother’s fated bond: the unmistakable tightness in his chest, pit in his stomach, the thought of you and only you swirling through his mind at all times.

But Eris was no fool. There would not be anyone who could keep this information quiet. Better to live with this fear held close to his chest than to endanger you with the knowledge. Surely, he assumed, you would have told him if you felt the same pull of the bond, slicing deep through the center of your chest, as his did.

…

Lately, Eris had become busier, making it difficult to find the time to see you in the evenings. Court tensions increased and Eris had been sent across the Courts with Beron to mitigate any drama. The day you heard that the High Lord and his eldest son had returned from weeks away at the other Courts, preparations for their return began early. Time drew by slowly as you knew that despite their return, you would not be able to see him until late that evening; not until the whole estate was asleep. You managed to busy yourself sewing anything and everything you could get your hands on, from hand embroidering the skirts of one of Lady Autumn’s new dresses, to mending training clothes. Despite all of the Vanserra males’ maturity, they had still managed to cut and beat each other bloody during their daily brawls. With each garment you scrubbed the dark stains from, though, you wondered if it truly was the brothers’ rivalry, or perhaps their vile father.

After supper, you helped wash the dishes and polish the silver. You had waited until they served the last of the wine before you headed off to bed. To your surprise, that’s where Eris was waiting. He sat upright on your small bed, perched atop the sheets with his immaculate posture. His pointed ears perked up as you slammed the door shut, breath taken out of your lungs at his surprise visit. A small smile pulled at his lips, his brows raising slightly in amusement.

“By the gods,” you hissed, pressing your body against the heavy door. “Someone could have seen you!”

He simply rolled those russet eyes, waving off your concern with a throw of his hand. “And do what exactly?” His smile grew. “Something I should be worried about? Please, (Y/N), I do not know you to jest.”

It was then your turn to scoff. You moved to join him on the bed, standing between his parted legs, cupping his sharp jaw between your fingers. “You’ve been away a long time, my Lord,” you mused. “Maybe I’m funny now.”

His hands wrapped around your waist, squeezing your hips, bunching your dress up between his fingers. He tilted his head upwards to look at you, throat bobbing slightly as his eyes bore into yours, waiting. He held the small smile that pulled at his lips, instead frowning, following with: “I cannot stay long.”

Your brows furrowed. Upon return from travel, without fail for the past hundred odd years, he had hurriedly taken you back to his own bed, eager to waste no time. “What’s the matter?” You asked as you fiddled with the collar of his shirt.

“I have to manage my brother.” Brother. Not brothers. He had told you of Lucien’s rebellious spirit. How he enjoyed wandering between Courts, befriending and sleeping with whom he pleased, with no regard for their status, or where he left his mark, for that matter. Many women of the Autumn Court had been jealous of those the foxy male bedded, some born of Autumn and others not - some not fully Fae, or even Fae at all. Things which Beron would find displeasing, and would be enraged to find out.

Eris had managed to keep it at bay, drawing Beron’s attention away from the youngest Vanserra by instigating Court drama. While growing up as a rowdy male, Eris did quite enjoy spurring up the High Lords, relishing in any opportunity to tease their courtiers, but nowadays he did so out of necessity, to keep Beron’s simple mind occupied. While his father was not stupid, he was easily distracted, especially when the possible threat of another Court challening Autumn - even if that threat was falsely planted by Eris.

“Is the female at her antics again?” Eris sighed at your question. It was seemingly much easier to keep Beron blind to Lucien’s previous affairs - despite him running rampant through all of Pyrthian. His most recent conquest had been a woman from the countryside of the Autumn forests. From what Eris could tell - and from what his guards had been able to inform him - the Lesser Faerie female had taken a liking to Lucien. She completely encapsulated him, teasing the male until she hit that soft spot inside of him. Only an audacious female such as herself would be able to break through Lucien’s turbulent youth, commanding his attention so much that even Eris wondered if they were mates.

“He has not a care in the world,” Eris groaned. Jealousy laced his tone, burning his lips as he spoke. He had spent hundreds of years pining for you, his own mating bond banging against his ribcage, pleading for confession. Allowing himself to indulge in you went against his intuition; he knew what Beron would do to him if he found out his son was fucking a Lesser Fae - let alone being in love with one. What is love anyway? Neither his father nor his mother knew such love. Mates were chosen by the cruel Mother, who seemed to have no interest in matching for emotion.

The Mother must be evil, after all, for mating his mother to his putrid father. For mating him to you, and endangering your life in doing so. He almost thought he would be better left without a mate, but it physically pained him to stay away from you.

Despite this pain, however, Eris could not spend the night. He had to make sure Beron did not get his hands on Lucien tonight, for he might kill him.

…

“Don’t go,” he groaned, wrapping his arms tighter around you, holding you taught against his chest.

Your legs twisted in the light sheets, trying to wrestle yourself from his grip. “I have to,” you drew out, planting your hands on his shoulders. He found your half-hearted attempt almost laughable, pushing weakly against him while somehow also burying your face impossibly closer in the crook of his neck. Through a small smile, he pressed a kiss to the crown of your head.

You relaxed against him, giving up your attempts to get out of bed - if just for now. You had maybe an hour before the sun would rise, before you were expected back in the servants quarters.

Eris smelled of oak and leather - the smoky and sweet personification of crisp Autumn air and fresh morning dew. You relished in his presence, cherished these moments in his bed between just the two of you. The two of you and no one else; not a care in the world.

It would only last through the night, though. Before the others began wondering where you were; before Eris was required for Court business. “I have to go before daybreak,” you murmured, cheek rubbing against the scars adorning his pale skin.

“If I had it my way the sun would be gone.”

You craned your neck upwards, a smile pulling at your lips. “Suddenly a Night Court enthusiast now, are you?”

He scoffed. “Again with the jokes, my dear. You may get in trouble if you speak of that territory again while in my bed.”

Your arm curled around his neck, twirling a red lock between your fingers. “I’m not afraid of you or your punishments,” you try back, leveling his gaze.

“Care to test the waters?” He mused, hands sliding over your spine, resting against your hips. He pinched your ass, causing you to jump in his arms. You playfully swatted at his chest, rolling on top of him, resting your legs on either side of his hips, straddling him. “Don’t start something you can’t finish,” he whispered, challenging you by grinding his hips upwards into you.

You bit your lip, pressing your hands to his chest to steady yourself. “You would finish,” you muttered, wiggling your hips in response. His fiery brows rose, revealing his piqued interest. “But we don’t have time for that.”

He groaned again, tightening his grip on your hips and moving you back and forth against his hard dick. “I can be quick,” Eris grumbled. “And you know how quickly I can get you off, too.” His hands drew over your hips, fingers tracing patterns against your skin until he drew closer to you the apex of your thighs.

You winked at him, pulling one of his hands away from your leg and up to your breast. “Maybe you can convince Thesan to delay the dawn.” He pinched your nipple in warning, not appreciating the High Lord’s name on your tongue. “Besides, Eris, you aren’t that quick.”

He rolled his eyes, again idly drawing circles against your breast. “Don’t act so mad about it, (Y/N),” he teased, before reiterating his earlier warning: “no Court discussion here.”

“Not even Autumn?” You wondered aloud, tilting your hand to the side.

“Politics bore me. You’re supposed to be my distraction.”

“Distraction?” You mimic, mocking him. “Is that all?” You knew how he meant it - or knew at least how he did not mean it. You weren’t just a distraction, Eris just had a certain blunt way of speaking.

“You are my escape, (Y/N). And one day I will make sure everyone knows.” He took your hand in his and brought it to his lips, kissing each of your knuckles one by one.

“Everyone?”

His red eyes bore into yours. “Everyone.”

…

Months spent lying low with Eris. The two of you had a pattern for years. Nightly rendezvous, some evenings spent in his bed, others wandering through the forests under the moonlight.

All so excruciatingly planned by the eldest Vanserra so nobody would find the two of you.

The youngest, on the other hand, was not so careful.

Everyone knew of his galavanting with the female. Eris told you what word traveled between his brothers. You told him the rumors spread through the servants quarters. It wasn’t long before Beron caught wind, before a plan began stirring in the High Lord’s mind.

It tormented Eris, you could tell - it was written all over his usually smug face. He had a good mask, one that he wore in front of courtiers and his father. Around you, however, he had learned to drop it. To allow himself to feel freely, stop hiding his concern, his emotion. Despite that, he still wasn’t one to wear his heart on his sleeve. You’d figured out how to read him, but you knew he lay awake at night, still holding you in his arms, tracing patterns on your back, while his mind was wide-awake and working.

“I taught Lucien to fish in this river,” Eris stated to nobody in particular as he stared at the river before you. “Right up stream.”

You curled yourself further around his arm, the two of you perched atop a rock beside the water. Your legs were tucked under you, folded beneath your dress, hidden from the cool night air. Eris placed his heavy wool coat over your shoulders, his arm slung across your lap, playing with the bunched fabric of your skirt. He had been quiet the whole night - more so than usual, no snarky remarks or suggestive comments. His hair was tousled by the wind, cheeks tinted red from the cold - maybe from his boiling blood; he was nearly radiating flames.

“How did that go?”

He shrugged, shoulder rising and falling ever so slightly, you wouldn’t have noticed it if your cheek weren’t resting against his bicep. “He liked to jump in and catch them with his hands.” You stretched your neck and rested your chin on his arm, catching a glimpse of the small smile that played at his lips as he replayed the memory in his mind.

“Who taught you?” A mindless question, though one you knew would elicit a response from him. What kind of response, though, you weren’t sure.

He let out a low laugh, sadistic. “Do you think my father would have spared the time?”

You bit your lip, watching his throat bob. “Did you teach your other brothers?”

“I taught them all.”

You studied the way his jaw clenched, as if working through a thought. You knew he held a soft spot for his youngest brother, but you weren’t sure why. Beron had treated all his sons poorly, you’d known Eris to take the brunt of it. He carried that ruthless reputation proudly on his shoulders, making sure to live up to those expectations when his brothers stepped out of line. While the five younger males were equally afraid of Eris as Beron, Lucien liked to walk that line.

Maybe Eris had protected Lucien too much - it was something that kept him up at night. If Lucien had felt the true power of Beron’s wrath, he wouldn’t act out so much, and wouldn't be such a burden to Eris - wouldn’t require as much shielding. “Why such a soft spot for him? Do you protect him because he is the youngest?”

He held his tongue, unable to release the bitter comment that was poised ready. He knew why Lucien needed the extra protection. His mother had confessed the moment she found out she was carrying the babe. She begged Eris for help. But he didn’t know what to do. For once, there was no Court training, no plan of action, no instruction for how to handle the situation presented to him. Though as a matured male, Eris did as his mother asked: he protected them both. He kept Beron busy, kept him as oblivious to the situation as possible. Eris took his youngest brother under his wing, keeping him out of Beron’s line of sight; his mother was safe - she was going to take that secret to the grave, as Eris would.

“He needs it the most,” Eris breathed. You drew your fingers along the back of his hand, tracing the bones and veins that ran stark against his skin.

Eris jumped first.

He shot to his feet, faster than you could even turn around toward what startled him. He took a step before your sitting form, his back turned to the calm river, now staring down whatever it was in the forest. You peered around his leg blocking your view, heart jumping into your throat.

Eris stood frozen, though the lick of flames was gradually crawling up his left hand. You rose slowly behind him, struggling to find even footing atop the slippery rock you stood on. You were square behind his back, hidden completely behind his broad shoulders. As his right arm reached behind him, resting on your hip, ensuring you were safe, shielded by him, your fingers curled around the fabric of his shirt, now bunched up and half untucked from his pants. The wool coat suddenly felt heavy; you almost wanted it to drag you down to the forest floor and bury you in a pile of leaves.

Hundreds of years. You were both so careful. You had successfully avoided this moment, this fear that lurched into your heart and the dread that found itself in the pit of your stomach. Peering around his arm, you squinted to the woods beyond, but saw nothing.

The snapping twig caught your attention, though, as the figure appeared from the shadow.

His long fiery hair whipped around behind him, strands flying loose around his pointed ears and jacket collar. He stood broader than Eris, though a few inches shorter. He was so casual. How Eris always stood tall, chin lifted with exquisite posture, his brother seemed much more at ease during his midnight stroll - though, perhaps it could be the wine clutched in his grasp.

Lucien’s smile disappeared at the sight of his brother, though. Same went for the woman beside him.

She clutched at Lucien’s empty hand, her dark hair hanging in front her face, but no doubt still recognizing the tall male before her. Her hand remained in her lovers as she bowed to your male. “Good evening, brother,” Lucien stated simply, nodding in his direction.

The flame went out in Eris’s palm, he tilted his neck to either side, reading a harsh pop from the top of his vertebrae. The brothers’ gaze did not drive from each other’s stare; Lucien had the same burning red hair as his brother, though his eyes were lighter, bore a golden hue. He was tanned, no doubt from escaping his Court duties that would have kept him entrapped in castle walls, much like Eris. As the woman stood straighter, she inched backward, not unnoticed by either male, taking a position behind her own mate, just as you had.

It felt like an eternity the four of you spent staring at each other.

Though Eris only nodded at his brother, unsure - for maybe only the second time in his life - of what to say. He’d been caught; the most important secret of his life had come to light, albeit only to his brother, but he was not sure what the response would be - Lucien’s response or his own.

“I’m afraid we haven’t met.” Lucien’s red eyes saw beyond Eris, where you were half untucked from behind him. You nodded back, not trusting yourself to respond, unsure of if you should even speak or tell him your name.

Eris spoke up before you had to. “Watch where you tread,” Eris nearly growled. He wasn’t sure if it was his anger or protective instincts that kicked in. He wondered if he would be more irritable if you were mated - if someone merely acknowledged you and Eris would go mad. Maybe if you had been mated to him, he wouldn’t be jumpy when another male spoke to you. But you were unmarked territory, as primal and pathetic as it sounded: you were his to protect.

“Looks like I am treading just about as carefully as you,” Lucien retorted, tilting his head toward you.

Eris took a step toward the younger male. The ruthless eldest Vanserra had the reputation of being the most sadistic, sure. You could only imagine what that would look like turned on his own brothers, or any other male that dare cross his path speaking of his mate with such a tone. “You know I will only be able to protect you for so long.” Beron was catching on to Lucien’s trail, quickly, at that. He was not pleased with the youngest’s unbecoming reputation, or how that that made the Autumn Court look: if Beron could not control his son, how could he hold power of his Court? These words need not be spoken between the two brothers. It was said before, and it did not need reiteration.

Lucien offered an eye roll in response, though could not help the smirk. You weren’t sure if he actually was drunk, or if he was simply snarkier than his older brothers. “I do not need your protection, Eris. Much less protection from my own father.” Eris shifted on his feet before you. His hand on your hip did not falter, though you did inch from behind him ever so slightly. “I did not think you much of a hypocrite,” he then stated matter of factly, a now almost genuinely seeming smile crawling on his lips.

“Though our matters of handling our private business seems quite different, no?”

Lucien just smiled and shook his head, it seemed almost in disbelief - that Eris would really pull that card, while he stood before the younger male in the exact same situation.

Eris continued, dismissively, “Enjoy your evening, Lucien.”

With that, it was time to leave, and the long haired male had no objection. Eris did hold power amongst his brothers, no matter how casual the other male acted toward him. Lucien’s arm wrapped around the female’s waist, pulling her close against his chest before winnowing away.

Your hand remained splayed on his back, staring at the tree line beyond. “Do you think he will say anything?” You asked, tilting your head up to look at the male who turned to face you, towering over you, head hanging low, russet eyes locked to yours.

He shook his head as his warm palms cupped your chin, thumbs stroking against your cheekbones. “He knows better,” Eris breathed, leaning forward, pressing his lips against yours.

“I won’t say anything, Eris,” you promised. His forehead rested on your own, his warm skin contrasted the chill that had set in from the night air. Your hands slid up his forearms, resting against his wrists, brushing your own thumbs over the backs of his knuckles. “But the others talk, and word spreads fast.”

Drama was only ramping up, rumors stirring rapidly as other servants spotted Lucien and his lover. They were not secretive, no doubt; but you hadn’t thought they were so careless. “He needs to leave Autumn if he wishes to be safe with her. Beron will not rest until he takes care of this problem.”

“Where will he go?”

“He has his alliances,” Eris grumbled. “And I my own.”

…

Red.

The flames.

The blood.

The fiery red hair in front of you as he dragged you through the halls.

The whole Autumn Court was about to burst into flame. That’s what it felt like. Eris was nowhere to be seen. The whole Vanserra family had been called away, none of them had been seen for days, actually. Rumors spread rampantly through the halls. Some said they heard screaming all day. All day and all night echoing against the stone walls. Whose - you didn’t know. A male. A Vanserra male. You’d heard there had been many voices, many cries for help and pleading - begging.

It was well into the night. Tensions ran high, nobody knew what was going on. Callula kept everyone busy for the past three days. Nobody left the servants quarters, only allowed between the kitchens and laundry. For Eris to have disappeared with no warning, without a trace, it was unlike him.

You couldn’t sleep, though, you were sure nobody could. Not with the gossip stirring through the halls, the haunting screaming through the dungeons below even the servants quarters. Pacing back and forth in your room, you couldn’t even find anything to busy yourself with; it took all your consciousness to just not rip your hair out.

You flinched at the sound of pounding boots down the hall. Wincing again when the door burst open, slamming against the stone wall, with nearly enough force to shake the whole estate.

He was out of breath, chest heaving raggedly, struggling to get air to his lungs. His clothes were tattered, blood stained his chin and dripped down his neck. His wrists were chafed and the skin had been scraped off, looking as though he’d been straining against metal shackles. Before you could even open your mouth to ask, he grabbed your hand and dragged you out the room, expertly weaving through the cold dark hallway. Before you could blink, he had dragged you outside, the moonlight shining against the stone path before you, leading directly to a knight in shining silver armor sitting atop a horse - with wings.

Eris began nearly hauling you toward the man, but you planted your feet firmly to the ground. He turned back, if only for a millisecond, hooking his arm around your waist, now half carrying you to the stranger. “You have to go,” he stated, his voice cracking.

“Fuck no!” You twisted against him, his strong arms still holding you against his chest. “I am not getting on that thing!”

He grabbed you by the shoulders, his palms nearly burning your skin through your clothes. “Please, (Y/N), please. I need you to.” Releasing you, just for a moment, his hands flew to your cheeks, pulling your face to his, catching your lips in a hasty kiss. “You have to go.”

“I’m not leaving. Whatever’s going on - Eris - I can - ”

He held you still, bringing his face close to yours, red eyes blazen. You’d been intimidated by Eris, back when you were young and all you knew of him was his reputation. But by the gods, you’d never been afraid of him. Panicked and hurried, so frazzled that he didn’t even know what he would be able to say to get you on that damned horse.

“Why are you trying to hide me?”

“I am trying to protect you!” He sucked in a deep breath, lowering his voice. He didn’t have much time, not before he had to get back to Lucien - to get him out. He licked his lips, tasting the blood that he knew was stained all over his mouth. “I love you and you’re - ” my mate “ - mine to protect.”

You swallowed, eyes wide at his confession. One that came hundreds of years after you met. Something you knew all along, but never heard. Not once had the confession fell from his lips, no matter how many times it crossed his mind. “I love you, Eris.”

He pressed his lips to you again, a kiss that tasted like metal and nearly had your teeth clanging together. “Helion will keep you safe for now.”

“Helion?” You blurted, frantically staring back and forth between Eris and the soldier atop the horse, as your lover prepared to hand you off in the arms of the stranger. You’d never been out of Autumn; you’d barely been off the estate grounds. To be handed off to a stranger, taken to a new territory - without knowing what the fuck was going on? He was simply mad.

Eris shook his head. “He’s…” He didn’t even know the right words. Refraining himself from his signature eye roll, he finished: “an old family friend.”

With another bloody kiss, he took a final look at you, lips now tainted red, brows contracted in confusion - possibly anger - and those doe eyes staring back at him, now brimmed with tears. He gripped your waist and hoisted you up to the armor clad soldier, who held you in front of him, trapping you in his arms.

Your heart was racing, throat sore from screaming as the horse ran away in a gallop, suddenly taking to the air with those massive wings. Over the man’s shoulder, you saw Eris disappear back into the castle, preparing for another fight.

…

You were so sick. For months. You weren’t able to leave the new bed you had been given, the small bedroom you found yourself in after your flight to the Day Court. You managed to get sick three different times on the way, somehow forcing yourself to apologize to the soldier who held you through a mess of tears.

Your new quarters were considerably bigger than that of Autumn; the sunlight shone through the large window, the walls were bright and clean, bed plush and soft. One of the older Fae had explained to you the events of the past week, you had no doubt there were stories roaring through the halls even nearly three Courts away from home.

If you had managed to eat any of the breakfast she brought you, you would’ve been sick again. Lucien’s lover had been tortured and slain at the hands of the High Lord of the Autumn Court, his own brothers held him to watch. Your breath had caught in your throat, guilt stabbing you in the gut. Had that been what Eris had protected you from? Cauldron boil you, was that truly your first thought? Lucien’s mate had just been killed at his own father’s hands, and you were thinking of yourself.

But that was exactly why Eris had been so painstakingly careful. Each night he spent awake, plagued with the fears the future would hold for you and him. You’d now realized that with each planned step Eris took with you, he was cursing his brother for being so utterly fucking careless. He’d cursed himself day after day for not warning Lucien more. For not beating it into him - what Beron would do. Maybe he had been too overprotective of Lucien. Careful for the High Lord to get his hands on that babe the moment he was born.

The only calm Eris had was knowing Lucien would be protected in the Spring Court, and that you would be safe in the Day Court. Beron was already suspicious of Eris’s cooperation with Lucien, his absence from Jesminda’s execution did not go unnoticed.

After months of laying low, wallowing in his own guilt, and trying to get back on his father’s good side, Eris had managed to write you. He chalked it up to being careful, unsure if his correspondents would be tracked between Courts, that it took him so long to prepare the first letter to you. In reality, he wasn’t sure what he should even say. How would he be able to explain his actions? For sending you away with no explanation, into the arms of a stranger to fly to a land you’ve barely heard of, let alone step foot close to.

When you received the letter, though, you felt nothing but relief, knowing he was even alive. He apologized - profusely - and briefly explained the events of that night. With Autumn in an uproar, he’d only be able to write to you; there were no chances to see him in the foreseeable future, this would be the only contact the two of you could have.

You sighed at your own responses, grimacing at your handwriting on the coarse paper, shaky and childlike, nowhere near as immaculate as Eris’s fine cursive. He knew you had never been formally educated, and seemed to not care, but it still made your cheeks heat. You had heard word of a new High Lady who couldn’t read - so surely your handwriting was nothing to be ashamed of.

…

Despite your comfort in the Day Court, you still missed the Autumn Court; the crisp cool air, the red trees, the rain, and even the mud that clung to your boots after a late night stroll with Eris. Even though you’d spend the first few years of your life dreaming of escaping, running away to another Court - to experience the rest of Prythian, you’d managed to fall in love with Autumn. No doubt also thanks to the male you had also managed to fall in love with.

Your new life - new, temporary, life - was an interesting change, though. High Lord Helion did not rule by fear or with hatred. He was open and loving and a free spirit; so much so that it took you a good while to grow accustomed to his lewd comments. He hosted a variety of visitors from each Court, and held wild parties, some which lasted for days, and others that began and ended in the confines of his bedchamber.

Once you began working with the others, you quickly became acclimated to the different style of Day; learning how to sew the more freeing garments, crisp white togas which Helion seemed to prefer. You’d never thought you’d see so many wearing so little. While your talent for embroidery and tailoring did not seem so useful here, the High Lord took interest in having you serve a different purpose. He was enthralled with your Autumn Court traits, the freckles he normally encountered only in Summer. He wanted you as waitstaff, serving drinks and meals, so he could ‘appreciate Autumn,’ since he rarely liked to visit - understandably so. He’d offered you reprieve in his bedroom, though when one of the other staff had reminded him of the circumstance of your stay, he had extended the invitation to both you and Eris. “He is always so interesting and… stiff,” he said with a smile and wink. “Tall but very fit. Could be quite the challenge.”

Despite his seriousness, he did manage to pull a laugh from you - the first genuine laugh from you in the months you’ve been there. It felt like forever ago, that you had last seen Eris. You hadn’t been apart for this long ever, since before you officially even spoke. But the two of you wrote each other quite frequently, each evening rereading his previous letters, keeping them bound with a red string, tucked under your pillow for safekeeping. You’d been able to write each other a few nights each week, recalling events from the past few days, anecdotes from your evenings spent together, and the occasional confession of what Eris missed the most about you - and what he missed doing to you, exactly.

He was not so thrilled to hear what Helion would like to do to him, though.

Amongst Helion’s smaller, more frequent gatherings, word quickly spread that the High Lord would be hosting a grand ball; a party which all the High Lords and families and courtiers would be invited. Your heart learched at the news, and although you were much busier with preparation, your mind was occupied with thoughts only of your lover. Not only memories of those nights spent together, but also anticipation, just to hold him in your arms again. Would you even have time to be together, would he even dare to get close enough to you? With all the prying eyes and his father being so close?

You didn’t allow yourself to think much of it, deciding that Eris would take the reins once he arrived. Whatever he decided to do would be the safest option - with little insight to Autumn tension, you weren’t sure how on edge Beron still was, or how tight he held the leash he had on his sons.

…

Although you were set to serve at the ball, you could not have been more thrilled to attend. You’d never seen a party of such stature, never being allowed upstairs at any of the Autumn events. You’d been dressed in fine white linen, bunched fabric falling over your shoulders and down your back, cascading in waves over your legs. You’d been adorned in gold jewelry, and a few pins that held back your long wily hair.

Never had the staff been treated with such respect, nor had you had such fine jewelry - that which would raise suspicion in the Autumn Court. You weren’t sure anyone would even recognize you, skin now much brighter and radiant, due to the bright sunlight throughout Helion’s estate and whole court. You knew the Vanserra sons nor the High Lord or his wife would recognize you; you just wanted Eris to.

“Every radiant, my dear,” Helion complimented, offering you a wide smile as he took a drink from the tray you carried through the hall. You’d been weaving through the crowd of people all night, the boisterous orchestra making it difficult to hear the High Lord, despite how close he was to you. “Don’t forget my offer, young (Y/N). I might like to see what spice the Autumn male brings tonight.”

“I will extend the offer, your highness,” you giggled back, offering him a bow before turning to find your next path through the crowd.

But there he was.

At the end of the room, shoulders squared to you, red eyes blazing. He looked utterly immaculate. Firey hair tamed, the strong column of his throat hidden beneath the collar of his jacket - one that you had sewn by hand. The same deep crimson as his eyes, with gold embellishment curling around his neck and lapelles like the fire that roared through his veins. With the amount of people moving in front of you, you thought you may have to rise on your tiptoes to keep your gaze directly set on him. But he stood a whole head taller than everyone else.

You could smell him from where you stood.

Swallowing the now forming lump in your throat, you set the tray down on the table nearest to you, not taking your eyes off your male until you pivoted toward the nearest door. You walked with your shoulders back and your head high - a female on a mission. But gods Eris walked so fast. His legs were so long and he walked so forcefully, you could almost feel the heel of his boots hitting the floor. Before you were halfway to the endgame at the end of the room, you felt him hot on your tail. He was nearly radiating heat, you felt his breath on the back of your neck.

He had to clench his hands into fists to keep himself from touching you.

The second your hand was on the doorknob, Eris nearly ripped the door open, slamming it shut behind him. The two of you ended up in a narrow hallway, one you were sure nobody would use during the discourse of the evening.

You barely had the chance to turn and face the male before his hands were on you. His hands found your hips first, pulling you snug against his front, backing you up until you were pressed firmly between him and the wall. You gasped as his lips met yours in a desperately sloppy kiss.

He had no patience. No control. He’d waited months - he’d starved for you.

That string in his chest nearly sliced through his heart, burning with each breath he took; consumed only by you.

You moaned against him, hands climbing up his biceps to his shoulders to his cheeks and then hair, pulling at the ends of those red locks, pulling his mouth against yours harder, ever closer to you. His hands splayed against your back, fisting at the loose white fabric that barely covered you. “What are you wearing,” he groaned through a sigh, as he grabbed your ass, hoisting you up against the wall, strapping you there, finally pressing himself between your legs.

You cursed as you felt his hard cock between rutting against you, no doubt the pure lust you scented earlier. “Too much, Eris,” you moaned, linking your legs together behind his back. Too much. The thin scrap of fabric draped over your most delicate features. Too much. Take it off.

He barked out a laugh before capturing your lips in his again, sinking his canines into your bottom lip. “I much prefer you in Autumn red, my love. Or better yet, nothing at all.”

His lips found their way to your jaw and down your neck, spreading sloppy licks and hot kisses across the expanse of your throat. Your head fell slack against the wall, hands searching for anything to hold onto to anchor yourself to him, fisting at his hair, his shoulders, his jacket. You wanted to touch him anywhere and everywhere, yet he kept you encased in his arms.

“Gods,” you hissed, yanking his head off you by a fistful of hair, crashing your lips to his. “More.” He hummed in response, his tongue sliding sloppily over your own, drunk on the taste of each other. With one arm still holding you against the wall, his other slid between your bodies, squeezing your breast on the way to his trousers, unbuckling his belt and dropping the waistband of his pants to his knees.

He laughed against you, that beautiful, near sadistic laugh deep from within his chest. “So desperate, are we?”

“Yes, Eris,” you breathed, eyes falling shut and chest heaving with desire. “Yes, yes, yes!” You became a blubbering mess in tempo with how he ran the head of his cock through your folds.

“I missed you, (Y/N),” he confessed, leveling his gaze to meet yours as he slowed his movement, painstakingly drawing his dick back and forth against you. You clenched around nothing, anticipating the sweet relief you’d feel in that pit at the bottom of your stomach, the one that had been yearning for him since you’d left.

At his confession though, your hands fell from the death grip on his hair, and you moved to hold his face between your palms, cursing yourself for the tears that threatened to spill over the brims of your eyes. His cheeks had hollowed, the scar over his cheekbone now ever starker against his pale skin. He hadn’t been sleeping much, you could tell from the dark purple moons under those glowing eyes. He’d simply been a wreck without you, berating himself each day that passed without you by his side. But you were safe. He could live with the knowledge that you were Courts away, taken care of, well-fed, and sleeping soundly, if it cost him that gods damned burning in his chest and pang in his heart.

Smoothing your hand over his wild hair, you moved to brush those locks back and your palm fell to the nape of his neck, and you pressed a gentle kiss to his lips. One which he breathed you in, seizing this opportunity to push into you, pulling the air from your lungs in a soft gasp, one that was matched by the man before you. He sighed against you, catching you in another kiss. Eris nearly shuddered at the sudden warmth around him, knees locking himself in place, sheathed inside of you.

Your legs drew closer around his waist, pulling him impossibly closer into you, until you felt his thighs flush against the backs of yours. He pulled out, earning a wine from you before he quickly snapped his hips back up, hitting deep inside you.

You bit your lip from yelping out, somehow forgetting how deep he filled you, just how long he was. “Gods, Eris,” you breathed, eyes shut, head fallen back against the wall.

He took advantage of your exposed throat and chest, attacking you with sloppy licks and kisses across the column of your neck. He picked up the pace, now rocking in and out of you quickly; your toes curled at the friction, Eris’s fingers slid underneath your bunched up dress, fingers digging into your ass, holding you steady against the wall.

He fucked you quickly and hastily, unsure of how he’d even been able to go so long without you, without the taste of your lips or the feeling of your pussy wrapped around his cock. His breath was ragged, chest heaving as his head dropped to the crook of your neck, mumbling a prayer of thanks to Helion himself, for throwing the ball, allowing him if only just an evening to spend with you.

Eris didn’t even try to stop himself; as soon as he felt you clenching around him and heard that little sigh as you came, so did he. His knees buckled, halting inside of you and holding you firmly against the wall. He trailed a line of kisses along your collarbone, trying to regain his breath before he let you onto your own feet.

Your own legs were wobbly and you found yourself clutching his biceps to keep yourself upright. You gazed up at the man before you, sweat beaded off his forehead and red hair curled around his temple. His hands cupped your jaw, pulling you in for another kiss. You pulled back slightly, eyes drawn to the door behind him as the music changed, much louder than before. “I’m not going back in there,” Eris whispered, thumb still stroking over your cheek, forehead pressed to yours.

You quirked a brow and held back a huff of breath. “But Eris, they’ve just started dancing and - ” and I know how much you love to dance.

That’s what you would have said. And he knew that’s what you would have said, so he cut you off before you had the chance. “I’m not going back in there, and neither are you.”

In the security of your tiny hallway - though actually not secure at all - Eris danced with you, twirling you around and holding you close to him, relishing in the muffled noise from the next room. The orchestra was muted, so much so that you could almost hear his heart beating against his chest where your ear was pressed up against, nestled safely in his arms. You couldn’t dance, you had barely been afforded the chance to watch such dancing in the Autumn Court, the kind which you knew he was trained in since he was a young Fae, what nearly all High Fae were taught. And he’d teach you some day, if you wanted to learn. Someday when Beron was long gone and he was free to parade you around on his arm. He’d throw you parties and buy you gowns and he’d dance with you all night long.

Eris spent that evening in your small bed, not an ounce of sleep shared between either of you. He stayed awake the whole night with you, listening to your tales from the Day Court, making love to you, and whispering sweet nothings in your ear, promises of the day he will take you back to Autumn. But in the back of his head, while he ran his fingers through your wild hair, pulling free any tangles from the evening’s activities, he fought back those guilty feelings that plagued him during your evenings spent together at home.

Perhaps you were safer here, he thought, over and over and over again, throughout the whole night. You told him tales of your new friends, the snarky comments Helion made - and though they infuriated your jealous male, you had laughed - that cute giggle alongside the pink blush against your cheeks. The only thing he would be able to offer you was your old miserable life, spent in the basements of the Autumn Court estate; nights away spent in secret, though much different than before. Beron had gone savage; his youngest son had defected, he was waiting for the other six to do the same.

For you, things would not be better. Not yet.

Maybe not ever. Eris didn’t have a plan. He didn’t know how to overthrow his father - he couldn't - not by himself, at least. Killing Beron would require allies, it would require a plan. Neither of which he had.

…

He had kissed you goodbye, the longest, most painstakingly slow kiss he had given you. It was truly a goodbye, and when he had winnowed back to Autumn the following morning, he’d thrown up all over his shining boots and polished floor. His heart had actually broken, fully split clean in two, by nobody other than himself.

You were simply endangered at the Autumn Court.

He didn’t know if it would actually someday be better for you.

…

He hadn’t written to you in days.

Weeks.

Months.

One night was all Eris had spent with you. And then he was gone without a trace.

You hadn’t heard anything from him, and nothing from the others around you. Autumn gossip was not so easily spread to the Day Court, not that it was of any interest to them, anyway. You’d written him, though. You weren’t sure if he received your letters, if he simply read them and discarded them, throwing the paper aside as he apparently had done to your relationship. You knew the male was cruel, but you didn’t think he was quite capable of treating you like that.

Maybe he never received your letters at all. Perhaps his mail was being intercepted, your letters never reaching him, and his you.

That’s what you were going with, at least. You’d have no way of finding out. You’d have no way of finding out if something had happened to him, either. If there was a reason he didn’t get your letters. If he was chained in the dungeon, cast out to Spring Court with his brother, or anything worse, at the hands of his father or his other brothers.

Surely, you would have heard that.

You fought through the ache in your chest, the deep growing pit in your stomach that kept you awake all night, the void between your legs that seemed to crawl up out of nowhere, plaguing your thoughts when your mind drifted to thoughts - memories - of Eris. You kept up your daily tasks, doing nothing but serving and sewing, then going back to your quarters. Your new friends noticed, but knew better than to pry. You kept your affairs with the Vanserra son to yourself, though there had been few rumors of your relationship with him. Though they didn’t ask, they knew something was amiss, and would bring you food to your quarters and tried to pull you from your desolation.

You’d entertained them, allowed them to pull you from the Day Court Castle to explore the lands beyond. You visited beaches, countrysides, prairies. You’d never seen sand before, but the sun burned it so hot that it scorched your hands and bare feet. It reminded you of Eris. Everything did. Everywhere you went, you kicked yourself for picking out things everywhere you went that reminded you of him. You also wished he could be there to explore all of this with you.

Then you remembered it was nothing he hadn’t seen before.

Just you.

But while you were discovering the world, Eris wasn’t doing much outside Autumn. He appointed all his travels to the court emissaries and his brothers. The sight of the sun made him sick, and he nearly outright refused to leave his bed on anything but stormy days.

He fought himself daily, fought against the bond that screamed at him to go get you, to take you home. Why should he get to live out the same life that had gotten his brother exiled and Jesminda killed? He shouldn’t. He didn’t deserve peace or an ounce of happiness. He’d been a cruel male, tormenting his brothers until they followed his every order and did not pose a threat against him.

He removed all the paper and pens and quills from his room, the mere sight of them making him want to vomit. He had to force himself to not write to you, not to seek you out, not even to think of you. Though, the latter was impossible. He reread your letters every night, staring at the scribbles on the pages until he couldn't make out any of the words, until it read like utter nonsense. He licked the envelopes where you had, simply because he missed the taste of you.

…

You hadn’t forgotten how he looked, the scar that ran jagged under his eye, the marred skin of his throat, where each freckle landed on his equally blemished chest. You hadn’t forgotten his smell, his taste. Hasn’t forgotten even the taste of the bitter Autumn tea, and even that of the Winter Court he used to share with you.

It was the little things that kept you up at night, the mysterious feeling of deja vu when you awoke from a dream, a retelling of your love story. You had begun to crave that feeling again, though. The feeling of his hands on your body, of his tongue running across your hips, his hands in your hair, the feeling of him hitting that spot deep inside of you. One you thought nobody would ever be able to reach.

Nobody could, in fact. No one could fill you like Eris, no one could make you feel like he did. There was no trembling, no soaring feeling in your chest, no coiling in your gut. You’d craved the way he made you feel, craved that full feeling, one that left your hunger satiated.

But you were starving.

Months turned into years, and you felt utterly emaciated. With no hint of anything from Eris, you finally freed yourself from the confines of your heart and tried your luck mingling with some of Helion’s other staff. Much like their High Lord, they were fun. Not a care in the world, minds seemingly only fixed on partying and fucking.

Despite their best efforts, you weren’t pleased. Eris was the only man you’d slept with, but he was good, better than good. He was made to fill you, and you were made for him. You’d gone back to the stableboy who tended to the Pegasuses, he who had taken to you the most. Even though he took your mind off Eris, if only for the evening, you went back to your room each time with that stabbing feeling in your gut. You felt guilty for using the male, though, in his defense, he could be using you for the same reason. For no reason at all, perhaps. Day was so different from Autumn… no feelings, no guilt, just… fun.

But you had quite an acquired taste. One that only a certain Autumn male could fit that mold.

You had come to terms with that fact early on.

It took Eris a few more years, though.

…

One day he found himself strolling right up to Helion’s front door. His heart was beating out of his chest, fists clenching at his sides with anticipation.

He caved.

He wasn’t too mad about it.

He was fucking nervous.

It wasn’t you who answered the door, there was some feeling deep in his gut that it would be. That would be just his luck.

“Sir,” the man spoke through his surprise at his unannounced visit. He bowed and straightened, stepping aside for Eris to enter the foyer. “I will alert Lord Helion of your visit.”

Eris almost brushed right past him; he was prepared to run through the whole estate to find you, scour every room and hallway to find you. As his eyes scanned the large space, golds and whites nearly blinding him, he found nobody else. He didn’t have a response, didn’t have a conversation prepared for Helion. He came for you.

Before he could respond, the doorman was gone, already disappearing through the hall to fetch his High Lord.

He almost thought Helion ran to see him, with how fast he appeared in the doorway. “Eris,” he announced, voice booming across the room, echoing off the gilded walls. “So lovely to see you.” Eris nodded once at the man, shoving his hands in his pockets. “How great to see you without your father, he can be so miserable.”

“Thank you for the warm welcome,” Eris merely responded, trying to politely poise a smile, but failing miserably.

Helion brushed him off, giving the male before him an up-and-down look. “You Autumn males always look so sharp. Can’t be comfortable, can it?”

Eris shrugged his shoulders, his pressed jacket and neatly placed collar remained unwrinkled. “I manage just fine.”

Helion’s smile did not falter as he quickly changed the subject. “I am assuming you’re here to see your fair maiden. I quite like her here in my Court.”

Eris huffed a breath, blood boiling at the comment. He eyes Helion’s gown, flowing freely as he guided Eris down the hall, reaching up to clasp a hand on the taller male’s shoulder. “She is much more suited in my Court.”

Helion cracked a smile, my Court, he quite hoped the eldest Vanserra son would someday rule Autumn Court. Despite his reputation, he was still a step up from Beron. And even though you had not been too vocal about your relationship with Eris, Helion knew that if you and him had such a romance, he surely could not be that bad of a male. In fact, he was reminded of his own affair with Lady Autumn. Eris had the same eyes as her, that same fear of Beron - Helion could not miss it. “I am glad you are back for her,” he confessed, pivoting down a different hall. “I know a fine pair of mates when I see it.”

Mates.

Eris stopped dead in his tracks as Helion winked at him; the High Lord burst out laughing as Eris stood petrified beside him. “Did she - ”

Helion brushed him off again. “I know,” he chucked. “I am quite intuative.”

Eris simply stared at the man, mind racing a million miles a minute, heart thumping rapidly in his chest. Helion continued, though, leaving Eris a few steps behind him. Finally reaching the kitchen, Helion strode right in, pushing open the door and greeting the first few servants he encountered.

But there you were, at the opposite side of the room, leaning against the counter as another female chopped vegetables, laughing. Eyes shut, smile wide, a full laugh from deep in your chest.

Fuck.

He had made a grave mistake. Had you laughed like that while you were with him? Was Autumn truly so depressing, leaving you miserable under the fall fog. His breath left his lungs, seeing you so full of color and joy.

He didn’t have time to wallow in his own thoughts. The room went utterly silent - everyone froze at the sight of the foreign man, no scuffing steps, no clanging of pots and pans, no chatter - the laughter stopped.

You straightened up, standing on your tiptoes and craning your neck around the room, looking for the show stopper.

And a show stopper he was.

Eris’s red hair was untamed, curling around his temples, red eyes wide, staring directly at you. He towered above everyone in the room, you swore his cheeks turned red at the attention. He folded his arms over his chest, but did not move an inch, his face remaining stoic and fixed on you. The others began to follow his line of sight across the room, landing on you. Whispers spread quietly, hushed tones and gasps filling the silence. They’d known you from Autumn, and turns out the rumors of your stay were true - none actually believed the Vanserra son brought you to the Day Court - none knew why, either, but you were sure they’d be able to figure it out soon.

“(Y/N),” Helion quietly said over the gossip. He nodded his head toward Eris and quickly ushered everyone back to their tasks.

Everyone stepped aside, parting like the sea to allow you a clear path toward Eris. Saying nothing, you walked around him, entering the hallway and heading straight toward your quarters. Taking the hint and thanking Helion quietly, Eris followed two steps behind you.

You cleared your mind - or tried to, at least. You breathed in for five seconds, out for five. Despite trying to regulate your breathing, your heart was beating out of your chest. Anticipation twisted in your stomach, your shoulders felt heavy as you carried yourself down the hall. His footsteps tormented you, the sound of his riding boots echoing in the hall.

You counted the seconds that passed until you found your room, allowing Eris inside before you shut the door, pressing your back against the white wall. You waited for him to speak first, which he didn’t seem to plan to do. He stared at you, chest heaving, standing awkwardly in front of the window. You simply raised your brows at the male, blinking away the stupid tears that pricked at the backs of your eyes. Pure frustration ran through you - they were angry tears.

That’s what you were telling yourself, at least. Abandonment tears. The man that dropped you here and left you here without a trace.

“(Y/N),” he whispered, not trusting his own voice to speak at a normal volume.

“What makes you think you can come waltzing in here - ” you couldn’t help yourself exploding at him, immediately yelling as soon as his mouth opened.

He crossed the room in two steps, reaching for you, trying to kiss you. You would have pressed yourself further against the wall if you could, instead opting to crane your neck to the right, staring at the wall until he dropped his arms in front of you.

“(Y/N),” he tried again. “He killed Jesminda. He tried to kill Lucien - and me, too. I couldn’t let him get his hands on you. You know what he would have done.”

“Why did you leave me here?”

He would have flinched. He didn't know what stopped him. Your words hit him like a ton of bricks, though he should have expected them. It was the question he came to answer, after all, but he hadn’t prepared a speech, and he didn’t have an answer. “I did not intend to leave you here. I was scared of what might happen if I brought you back. I couldn’t bring you back to the Court with everything how it was… it would have been a death sentence.”

You rolled your eyes. “You decided to leave me here when you stopped writing. When I didn’t see you for years, Eris.” You spat his name with bitterness, never once had he heard you say it with such malice. “I thought you were dead.”

“Dead?” He repeated numbly, unable to stop his brows from raising.

You nearly rolled your eyes. “Don’t act like it's beyond Beron. I didn’t hear from you, didn’t see you. I didn’t actually think you were capable of such a thing.” You crossed your arms over your chest, leveling his stare as best you could through the tears. You felt the words slice through him, but had no intention to stop. You needed him to feel as angry as you did, as you had for the past few years, waiting for him to return. “I know you’re cruel but not that - ”

“(Y/N).” His voice reverberated through the room. “You were better off without me!” His anger turned to resentment - pointed only at himself. “You would have been killed if someone found out. You were miserable there. I didn’t want to keep you as a secret, (Y/N), but that’s what it had to be! You deserve more than that.” He spewed every explanation that came to mind. It was all for your own well-being, but he was so blinded by his own selfishness that he left you in Day all alone. With no explanation. His gut twisted as he continued, but he couldn’t stop himself. Nearly 500 years he’d lived with this knowledge, but it seemed to be the only explanation that would make sense: “But I came back now because you’re my mate and I need you - by gods, (Y/N), I need you so much.”

He had fallen to his knees before you, head now level with your center. His hands reached up and fell on your hips, again bunching the fabric of your dress, what he used to do so much during your time together. His brows knitted together and his eyes softened. “It hurts so much, (Y/N). I should have told you but I knew it would make it worse. It would be so much worse for you to be stuck with me forever.” He shook his head, dropping his forehead against your lower stomach, nearly in pain. “I couldn’t do that to you. Not with the state of my Court.”

Mate? You chewed on the word. Is that what that feeling was, deep in your chest? Not longing, not heartbreak; all the illness you felt looking at another male, the sickness deep in your stomach as you spend the evening with the stableboy. You had a mate. You had a mate and he was nowhere to be seen.

The man pleading before you, bowing on the floor of your servant’s quarters: your equal.

“Eris,” you whispered, hand raking through his red hair, curled locks tangling in your fingers. “My mate.” The words tasted good on your tongue. Like home. Exactly what you had been missing for years - ever since you left Autumn. Your home. The muddy forests and dark clouds had never felt more comforting. Rainy mornings spent in Eris’s bed, wrapped in his arms, listening to his breathing and the soft cracks of the hearth.

“Gods, (Y/N), I need you. Come back to me.” His eyes were squeezed shut against your white dress, afraid of your response. Your hand fell to his sharp jaw, curling around his chin and pulling his head up to face you. His red eyes met yours and he almost sighed with relief at the smile on your lips. He swallowed the lump in his throat. “There has been no one else in my bed since our last night.”

Your stomach dropped. A sword of fire and guilt twisted its way through your heart, down through your stomach and womb. But there had been for you. You had been so desperate to fill that need inside of you, to relinquish that pain. You didn’t know it was a pain carved out in the hollow of your chest that only he could fill. You knew why you had felt so guilty. One day your mate would be back for you - you should have known. It was your body telling you so.

But the thought of you betraying him and to fail to honor what you two had… he read the shame on your face. It was his own damned fault - nothing he could blame you for. Not with the way he left you. The way he read all your letters, begging for him to return to Day. You begged him for one last kiss, a visit, a letter - anything. He saved each piece of scrap, tucked safely under a pile of swords in his room. “(Y/N), I ache for you.”

“Eris,” you whispered, the tears falling down your cheeks matched the ones reflecting in his red eyes. “Take me home.”

#eris vanserra #eris vanserra x reader #acotar #eris x reader #eris x you #eris vanserra x you #fanfiction #acotar fanfiction

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bangtaninborderland · 2 years

Text

𝘗𝘑𝘔: 𝘛𝘳𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘔𝘦

𝙎𝙪𝙢𝙢𝙖𝙧𝙮: Jimin asks for your trust once more and this time you give it to him. Inspired by this video.

Genre: Fluff, angst, minor smut / smut references.

Warnings: smut - angst.

A/N: I really worked so hard on this please share your thoughts, I’m happy to take requests and drabbles based on this couple. Thank you so much for all the love you have shared on the first two chapters, the response was overwhelmingly beautiful I’m so glad 300 of you have enjoyed it enough to like it!

Taglist: @filtrmin @blairtann @parkjiminlovies

Previous chapter ⇐ | next chapter ⇒

A month had passed since the incident between you and Jimin and despite how scared you felt that night things had been better since. He had been around more as the members finally had a break and for the first time it fell right on your birthday.

For the past week Jimin had been obsessing over it, making sure you got to celebrate it together, every day he would bring you something home. He said your actual gift would arrive the day after your birthday, you’d lost track of how many times he had apologised even though you’d told him it was fine.

In all honesty the best gift was him.

You hear the door close which can only mean one thing, he is home. You rush down the stairs leaving your paperwork all over the desk, that could wait.

“Hey baby.” He chucked wrapping his arms around you, placing a kiss delicately upon your forehead.

“How was practice?” You look up at him through your lashes, even though they had a week off Jimin said they still had to practice at least once just to get the new choreography right.

He brushes a loose hair from your face. “It wasn’t as good as being with you.”

“Okay okay I missed you too.” You release him and make your way to the kitchen.

You hear him pull the chair out as you finish cooking the dinner you had started some hours earlier.

You turn to him only to see his eyes fixed on you making you blush. “Did you eat already?”

“No I thought we could eat dinner together today.” He smiles.

“I tried to make it as healthy as I could just in case.” You explain showing him the vegetables and kimchi you had prepared.

You feel his arms link around your waist as his head rests on your shoulder. “You didn’t have to do that I would have ate anything you made.”

You giggle at the way he grows so clingy, you wouldn’t think he was nearly 28. “I know even on a break you like to try and keep your body perfect. How comes you didn’t eat breakfast this morning?”

“I didn’t want to be late.” He humms.

You knew Jimin which is why you knew he was lying about that.

“Jimin.” You feel his hands fall from your waist as you turn towards him.

“Jagiya.” He winks but his usual distraction methods won’t work this time.

You wave the chopsticks you was using to stir the food at him. “Don’t Jagiya me, why didn’t you eat.”

“You know I can’t gain too much weight on this break.” You watch as his gaze drops to the floor.

“Jimin you won’t gain weight by eating more than one meal daily, you do more cardio than the whole of South Korea put together.” You walk over to him grabbing his hand.

You know how much pressure not only him but all of the members face to be perfect but even so his words still make you feel sorry.

“I see some posts, a lot of posts. They were saying I had gotten fat, that I looked like a chubby kid again. I don’t want army to see me that way, I don’t want people to think like that.”

You place your hands on his face, making him look at you. “You are not fat, you are not Chubby and you are not a kid. Have you ever actually looked at the comments army gives you?”

You watch as he shakes his head and you let out a sigh. “Stay here.”

You head up the stairs, grabbing your phone from the desk you had abandoned earlier. You was going to show him a side of social media he had most likely not taken much notice of.

“What’s that?” He asks pointing to your phone screen.

You blank face him, making him laugh. “Twitter.”

“You use Twitter?” He asks raising an eyebrow as you lean against the counter next to him.

“I use Twitter to see videos of my boyfriend when he gets too busy working hard making millions of people happy.” You correct him.

“Upload a selfie.” You tell him.

He pulls out his phone opening Instagram “Why?”

“I mean on Twitter.” You laugh however that stops as you watch his eyes widen.

“I kind of deleted it, none of the other members post their much either.” He explains.

“I can’t believe you, instagram will do.”

You watch in silence next to him as he uploads a selfie he had sent you days before, you always love that you get to see pictures of him before they get posted, even though everyone knows most things about him you still have that small piece of him that’s only for you.

“Done.” He shows you, you read the caption that read “missing my Ami already.”

“Okay now watch.” You refresh the Twitter app on your phone.

You hand him the phone “Scroll through the timeline.”

He shakes his head before finally accepting and scrolling through. Thousands of people reacting to his newest upload had already started and watch as his face shows a vary of expressions, shocked, happy, confused.

“They really think all these things about me?” He asks looking up at you with tears in his eyes.

“Every single time you post a picture, a live, any content, that’s the way my Twitter looks. There’s always hundreds of these posts called threads that show people’s favourite moments of yours and it’s always about the words you say. The speech you gave “someone in seoul..” do you remember it?” You ask him and he nods.

“Hundreds of people post that and say they are having a bad day but that makes them happy. Your impact on these people go far beyond the way you look.” You watch as small tears stroll down his face, you brushing them away.

“Thank you for showing me this.” He smiles kissing you to which you reciprocate.

“You’re welcome, now let’s eat okay pretty boy?” You ask him making him laugh.

He nods at you, his eyes flicking down to your phone screen once more. You turn back to him as he calls your name.

“Why are they saying I probably have the prettiest cock?” He asks, making your face go red.

You rush to grab the phone from him but he holds it above your head and continues scrolling reading out the comments.

“Jimin looks so good Id let him use me.” “Jimin could just look at me and I’d orgasm.” “I’d throw myself in front of a bus to have jimin touch me once.” “Waking up to jimin must be the most amazing thing ever.” “Jimin knows he is going to drive us all insane.”

“Stop it.” You whine reaching for the phone.

You’re thankful when he stops teasing and hands it back to you. “So those are the kind of posts you read when you miss me?” He asks in your ear.

“N-no.” You stutter, his body pressing against yours.

“Do I have the prettiest cock?” He asks, his shyness gone.

“Well..” you whisper.

You squeal as he lifts you up and places you on the counter surprising you. “I said do I have the prettiest cock or should I get it out and make you tell me?”

“You know you do.” You mumble, trying to hide your embarrassment.

“Good girl, next time don’t make me ask twice.” He wraps his hand around your neck as he kisses you roughly.

You can’t help but widen your legs allowing him to press himself against you.

“Jimin” you moan into his mouth.

He humms back too focused on kissing you.

“I want you.” You moan.

You watch as he pulls back, the hand around your neck loosening, falling to your lap instead. You push your hips up, your need for his touch becoming overwhelming.

He rubs his thumb over your pussy through your pants. You curse yourself for wearing sweats. “Let’s go to the room.” You whisper trying to pull him closer to you.

“Not yet baby.” He shakes his head his hand pulling away. “We both need to eat and it’s your birthday tomorrow.”

“You can be my gift.” You pout at him.

He runs his thumb over your lips. “Good girls don’t huff. Go clean up I’ll finish dinner.”

You want to roll your eyes at him but by now you know butter so with a sigh you jump off the counter and head to the bathroom.

You didn’t have a lot of time before dinner was cooked which meant having a bubble bath was out of the option so you settled for a shower. You didn’t realise how badly you needed one until the warm water trickled down your skin relaxing your muscles.

As comforting as it was you didn’t want to make jimin wait, you quickly washed yourself and your hair before hopping out and wrapping a towel around you, as always jimin had forgotten to hang the robes back up so you was forced to run across the apartment into your bedroom.

Jimins voice was faint but you could hear him talking on the phone, you never knew if it was business or personal and you never wanted to invade his privacy so you ignored it and continued getting dressed.

After throwing on one of his shirts and a pair of your shorts you headed back downstairs, you had hoped he would have finished with his call by now but he hadn’t so you waited in the hall, hoping not to disturb him.

As much as you had learned to ignore his calls you couldn’t help but pick up a few words, he didn’t sound happy.

“-I’m not lying to her.” Jimins voice shouted in a hush.

Only now did you wish you could hear the other person.

He sighed.“I get that but I’m doing this for her.”

“She won’t think of it as lying she thinks we was rehearing Hyung.” So he was talking to one of the members and he lied about being at rehearsal.

“I don’t want her to hear me I’ll call you when she goes to sleep, I don’t want her to have any idea.” You hear him hang up the phone and you quickly hide being the door as you see his head turning.

You leave it a few seconds before entering the room, not wanting to make it obvious that you had heard his call.

“Hey you.” You mumble taking a seat at the table.

You watch as he carries over the pot of food you had made. He places it in front of you with a smile as he hands you a bowl. “How was your shower?”

“It was okay.” You mumble, filling your bowl.

You see him sit down opposite you out of the corner of your eyes “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, so what was you rehearsing today?” You asked him, forcing a smile.

You watched as his hands froze for a second before he shook his head, adding more kimchi to his plate. “We practiced the choreography for idol. It has been a whilst since we did it last.”

“You only practiced one song in five hours?” You knew you had to fix your tone before you gave away that you had heard his call.

“You know what Namjoon Hyung and Jin Hyung are like, besides Jungkook kept making us laugh, we practiced Dionysus and Yet to come too. What did you do today?” He smiles at you picking up his chopsticks.

You noticed he changed the conversation but you let it go, you wanted to ask him what was really on your mind but you didn’t want to give him the wrong idea.

“I worked on some things, filled in some paperwork and sent some emails. I had a call from your eomma she asked if we would visit her soon so I told her that we could go on your next weekend off if that’s okay?” You look up at him but you see he isn’t focused on what your saying as his eyes are fixed to his phone screen.

“Uh yeah that sounds great.” You watch as his phone rings.

“I’ll be back in a moment finish eating.” He said tucking his chair in as he walks towards the stairs.

You watch him run up them only hearing him say hello to whoever was calling, your appetite had long gone so you tidied up your food and cleaned your plate. The sun hadn’t set completely yet so you decided to make the most of it and go for a walk.

“Jimin?” You call out but you get no response.

You groan but begin making your way up the stairs but the words you hear make you stop. Your heart drops and you feel the food you just ate coming back up. “She won’t be my girlfriend anymore.”

You silently run back down the stairs, you grab your phone and your shoes and head outside, Closing the door behind you silently.

You send jimin a text so he doesn’t worry, not that it matters if he is planning to break up with you.

To: jiminie.

“I’m going for a walk, didn’t want to interrupt. Be home soon 💜”

You attached his usual heart emoji so he didn’t think anything would be wrong but you cried as you pushed send, your heart aching at the thought of being without jimin.

You didn’t actually know where to go. You didn’t want to walk around and cry, you had friends but they weren’t the kind of friends you talked to about these things, you never shared much of yours and jimins relationship to anyone out of fear they would sell the information so there was only one person you could talk to. One person you trusted.

You searched for the number not hesitating to call. It took a few rings for him to pick up but you suddenly didn’t feel alone anymore once you heard his voice.

“What’s wrong?” He asked, you could tell he was sleeping from his rough voice.

“Yoongs I need to talk but you can’t tell Jimin.” You explain.

“You want me to pick you up?” He asked making you smile.

“Yes, I’m near Jimins apartment.” You direct him.

You hear him open his door. “I’ll be there soon, go wait at the coffee shop.”

“Okay.” You don’t wait around as the phone call ends.

There was one coffee shop in the whole of seoul that you and the members could go to and be in privacy, an old lady owned it and it was run by her grandson, when you and jimin had first gone the woman had noticed him and had asked if he would like to eat inside. He declined for obvious reasons but she shushed him, she showed you a back room, a small room with a view of a lake nearby, there was windows but no one was able to see.

Slowly it became safe place for you all, whenever you would go she would take you to the back room and eventually her grandson did the same thing, neither of them ever asked for a picture or a autograph and no one ever knew you was there, one time a flood damaged the building so Jimin paid to have it fixed. Anonymously of course but she knew who it came from and she had always been grateful, giving you free sandwiches every time you went.

It didn’t take you long to reach the building but you was grateful when you did, the homely smell filling your nose.

“It’s lovely to see you!” She embraces you quickly guiding you through to the back room, you wasn’t an idol but she made you feel just as important.

You hugged her back. “Ajumma, how have you been?”

“I’m fine! I’m fine don’t worry about me, how are you? How is everyone it’s been weeks since I see any of you!” She flaps her hand at you, taking the seat opposite.

“We haven’t had much time Jimin has been busy at work and so have I. I feel bad for not coming by more.” You smile at her.

“Don’t you worry, we all get a little busy sometimes. What can I get you ?” She asks, patting your head lightly.

“Two coffees and maybe a tangerine or maybe five tangerines.. if you have any?” You ask her earning a laugh.

“Ah mister Min will be coming, I’ll bring them right out for you. I’ll let him know you’re here!”

“Thank you.” She smiles as she opens the door and you bow to her.

You always missed your eomma, you hadn’t seen her much since moving to Seoul it made you often feel like a bad daughter but you’d send money home whenever you could.

Your phone buzzed but you didn’t bother looking, you knew it would be Jimin. You watched out the window as you waited for Yoongi, jimins words were running though your mind no matter how hard you tried to think about something else.

You felt a hand touch your shoulder making you jump, you had grown so focused you didn’t hear the door open.

“It’s just me.” Yoongi calms you down.

You stand up and give him a hug. “You scared me”

“I could tell.” He mumbles pulling away. He wasn’t always a fan of physical attention but he always had a soft spot for you wether he admitted it or not.

You watch as he pulls out the seat next to you, his eyes watching the world go by out the window. “It’s beautiful isn’t it?”

You nod as he looks to you, “so what happened?”

You always found it easy to talk to yoongi, Jimin was close with all the members and in a way you was too but you had grown a true friendship with yoongi, not one based off the fact you was Jimins girlfriend but because you see him as another ordinary being so you had grown to become fond of his bluntness and you appreciated that.

“I think Jimin is going to break up with me.” You state, you watch as his eyes widen and his mouth open his face falling into that classic confused look you’d see in a bad comedy movie.

Before he could respond the door opened.

“Ajumma let me help you.” You mumbled rushing to take the coffees from her.

“Aish go and sit down im not that old.” She waves her hand at you as you place the coffees on the table in front of Yoongi.

“Ah Suga.” She smiles at Yoongi and he laughs.

“Ajumma you can call me Yoongi” he bows to her, accepting the bowl of tangerines she hands him.

“You know I like to have a laugh with you, how are you? How is your family?” She asks patting his shoulder.

“They and I are okay. I went home this weekend to visit them, they said the next time they are in Seoul they will come by to thank you for taking care of their son.”

You watch as her small smile grows into a grin. “I am happy to take care of you all. I have to get back to work now but you two just let me know if you need anything, say goodbye before you leave.”

“Thank you.” She smiles at you both as she leaves.

“You asked her for tangerines?” He asks picking one from the bowl.

You smile. “You have an unhealthy obsession over them.”

“They are good for you.” He groans peeling the skin off.

“Yeah and so is the gym but I can’t remember the last time you went.” You can’t help laughing but it doesn’t lasts long as Yoongi gives you a look that shuts you up.

He rolls his eyes before flashing you his gummy smile, he always knew how to make you feel better. “So why do you think Jimin is going to break up with you.”

“I know he is.” You huffed stirring the coffee.

“That still doesn’t tell me why you “know” he will.”

“Because Yoongi I heard him tell someone on the phone that I won’t be his girlfriend anymore, I heard him again on another call say that he wasn’t lying to me. So maybe I figured it out.” Your voice sounds angry but inside you’re just hurt.

“Look you can’t assume something so big from hearing one sentence, you should talk to him because as much as I can sit here and tell you what I think none of it may be the reality.” That was another reason you liked talking to yoongi, he had the best advice.

“I can’t do that, I can’t face him yet I’ll just cry and you know how he gets when I’m crying.” You explain taking a sip of coffee.

You almost want to laugh when you realise Yoongi had already ate three of the tangerines. Even in his most wise moments he was in love with the fruits.

“The longer you wait the worse it will be, you could always ask someone who Jimin talks to.” He looks down to your phone and your eyebrows frown.

“That’s why I called you.”

“I mean someone who he talks to about this kind of stuff.” You watch as he pulls his phone out of his pocket. He hands it to you after dialling a number and you bring it to your ear.

“Hello?” You mumble unsure of who Yoongi called.

“Long time no see.” You scoffed at the voice. Of course it would be him.

“You know you can’t see me right so what you just said is completely wrong but yes it’s been a long time.”

You hear him laugh. “How can I help.”

“I feel a little awkward asking this but is Jimin going to break up with me?” You whisper the last few words, afraid of sounding ridiculous.

You want to throw the phone when you hear his laughter burst out uncontrollably. “Jimin would never do that. Did you hit your head?”

You laugh at his tone, he always made you smile. “I heard him talking on the phone about it, I’m not delusional I promise.”

“I think you should talk to Jiminah about it, you know the talks we have I don’t share. If you want my advice you don’t have to worry.” He explained.

You understood the position he was in, he had to put his friendship with Jimin first and that’s something you would never ask him to not do. Even if it meant you being clueless and hurt.

“Thank you hobi and for making me smile”

“You’re welcome. That’s why I’m everyone’s hope.” He hangs up a few seconds later and you hand Yoongi his phone back.

“So feel any better?” He asks placing his coffee cup back on the table.

“Not really but I shouldn’t have jumped to this conclusion so fast. I should go home and talk to him.” You mumble the words hoping that he doesn’t hear them but when he smiles and stands up you know he has.

“I’ll take you home.” He looks out the window on the door and he turns back to you.

“I can’t go out there.”

Maybe being with Jimin had you familiar with his tone but you knew what that meant. You walked over to the window and looked out of it.

“Why is it so busy out there?” You ask, turning back to him.

“I don’t know, it seems like something is happening.” He explains his head peking out of the window.

“Let me go check.” You smile at him, although he couldn’t risk being in such a busy place alone you could.

“Ajumma!” You shout through the crowd but you had no response, you couldn’t see Daesong around anywhere either.

You looked around a little more before finally finding Da-som crouched behind the counter.

“Ajumma what happened why is it so busy in here?” You ask, watching her hands try to fix the light in the display cabinet.

“A tourist groups bus broke down they found the cafe and wanted to wait here until they could get some help. Here you and mister Min should go out the back door, just leave the keys in the flowerpot outside.” She hands you a set of keys, pointing out the one for the door.

“Is there anything I can help with before we go?” You ask worried about the older lady.

“Don’t worry I’ll be fine you go on about your day if anything the extra custom will help me.” She smiles shooing you away with her hand.

“Okay have a good day and stay healthy, thank you for everything Ajumma.” You wave to her and walk back into the room where yoongi was waiting taking pictures by the window.

“Oh look at your selca king.” You laugh waving the keys at him.

“I promised army I would post more but it’s hard, I think they will like the site.” He smiles pushing his phone into his pocket.

“Yeah yeah whatever you say you love taking selcas and then you don’t post them. Let’s go out the back.” You sigh unlocking the second door.

“Did you find out why it was so busy?” He asks, pulling his face mask up and his hat down.

“A tourist bus broke down so they came here.” You explained.

Once you was outside you follow the instructions given to you and placed the keys inside the flower pot next to the door.

You walked a few steps behind Yoongi as always. If any fans or paparazzi found him that way you could make it seem like you was just another passer by. The boys had told you time and time again you didn’t always have to be like that but you couldn’t explain how bad you would feel if you became the reason that they ended up facing some bad media. The dispatch deal helped but it didn’t stop everything.

You made sure to look around you before entering Yoongis car, thankfully no one see you meaning neither of you would be front page on some trashy media site.

“So I’m taking you home?” He asks, adjusting his mirror.

You sigh, nodding. “I guess so.”

“You need to talk to him.” He reminds you, not that you needed it.

“Home it is.” You confirm.

You listen as he connects his phone to the car, it was a short drive but you both welcomed the music.

“Is this you?” You ask turning the sound up a little more.

“Yeah I guess it is.” He laughs.

“What’s it called?” You ask, Jimin hasn’t played this song for you before.

“People .” He laughs.

“I like it. How comes I’ve never heard it before. ”

“Thank you. Ask Jimin.” He smiles at you and you roll your eyes.

“I already have too much to ask him.” You hit his arm laughing.

“Can I ask you something?” He asks, his eyes fixed on the road.

You hum in agreement.

“Why did you call me instead of talking to Jimin straight away.”

You thought for a minuet, the question was unexpected. “I think I always find myself calling you because I know you’ll be honest. You’ve never lied to me, never broken a promise, if I ask you how something looks you’ll tell me if it’s good or bad but you’re still aware of emotions. You’re insightful.”

“Wow, you sure you don’t want to write a poem about me?” He laughs and you hit his arm again.

“Aish! Do you want me to crash? I will you know.” He waves his hand at you which you slap away.

“Go for it, it’s not my car.” You side eye him and he forever a scowl at you.

You had been laughing so much with Yoongi you hadn’t realised that he had entered to parking lot for Jimins apartment. It was only then that the butterflies fled your stomach, your mind and heart racing.

“Hey you can do this, I’m just one call away.” Yoongi nods at you.

“Thank you for being there for me today.” You smile at him before closing his car door behind you.

“If I can help I will.” He smiles through the window.

You wave to him as he drives off, you begin your slow walk back to the apartment.

After choosing to take the stairs and going up them slower than you ever thought humanly possible you arrived at the front door, you reluctantly pressed the key pad.

You was hoping the ground would open up and eat you but it didn’t so you slowly pushed the door open. You didn’t have any time to prepare yourself as you see Jimin laying on the couch.

“You’re home.” He smiles walking over to you, his arms wrapping around you, his familiar scent filling your nose.

The arms that once felt safe to you became more like a weight with every passing second.

“I heard your call.” You blurted out, the words unprepared.

“What?” Jimin steps back, his eyes roaming over your face.

“I heard what you said about me Jimin, that i won’t be your girlfriend anymore.” Your eyes fall to the floor, you didn’t want him to see the tears already forming.

“You.. I.. just I need to explain okay?” He asks, his hand rubbing your arm.

For the first time every you shrug his arm off, you look up only to see his face filled with hurt. “Are you going to break up with me?”

“I would never do that!” He shakes his head.

“Then why did you say that I wouldn’t be your girlfriend anymore?” You ask, the tears slipping down your face and no matter how much you wanted to look away you couldn’t.

“Because I don’t want you to be my girlfriend.”

You swear your heart breaks at that moment. Time stops and for a few second you guarantee your breath does too. You don’t say anything, you don’t even look at him. You begin walking to the stairs, the idea of packing everything and leaving solidified in your mind but before you could take a step his voice fills your ears.

“I want you to be my wife.”

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