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utterlyotterlyx · 2 months

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Part Three

Modern!Az x Fem!Reader

ACOTAR x Crescent City Crossover

Summary - Dark secrets come to light and friendships are broken.

Warnings - drugs, mentions of parental death (incl some details), ANGST, swearing, some fluff in the beginning

Part One Part Two

Even the night air was prickled with sweat from the packed bodies bristling about in the stands stacked around the football field.

Light flooded the grass, horns and laughter floated through the four stands all peering down on the pitch from their respective angles, home and away. The Stags versus The Angels. Excitement was rife, beer was plentiful, and everyone was dressed as light as possible to be able to at least try and be comfortable in the summer night.

Azriel had pouted when Bryce had met you on the doorstep to the house and whisked you away with a polite smile to him and strong arm around your waist. Though, he couldn't help but smile to himself at the clear annoyance on your face when you glanced back at him, asking him to put your shopping bag in your room, wishing that you could join him there instead of being dragged through the streets by Bryce.

Doing as he was told, Azriel entered the house, asking Mor where your room was and refusing to give your bag to her, insisting that you had asked him to put them away for you. With a smirk, she told him which room was yours, the one with the faded white paint and golden doorhandle, and he set off to find it.

Azriel exhaled deeply as he stepped into the room. He didn't know what he was expecting, but whatever was in front of him certainly exceeded it.

Your bed was a nest of open books and sketches that was pushed up to the far corner by the window. Empty mugs lined the windowsill, the walls were cream and covered in pencil sketches, ones that you had began to paint over and bring to life, and others you had returned to the same cream as the backdrop.

A bookcase lined with literature organised by author and series, some of which had been pulled out like you had only inspected it that morning. Azriel could almost see you floating about the room wearing an oversized shirt that drowned you, with you hair strewn up and a pencil behind your ear, peering at the titles before your eyes with your tongue stuck out in concentration.

There was a white desk littered with what seemed to be ripped out diary pages, in front of it sat a light brown wicker chair, dresses hung up on long rail and pulled open drawers with shirts and trousers drooping from the edges. It was light a cosy, airy, and very you.

"Gonna start sniffing her panties or something, Az?" A deep feminine voice drawled from behind him, he turned to see Nesta leaning against the faded doorframe with a grin as she took in Azriel stood in the centre of your room with a bag of books hanging from his fingers.

"Of course not," he grimaced, moving to the wicker chair by the desk and resting the bag of books on the seat, turning back to Nesta with his hands burrowed deep into the pockets of his jean shorts, "I just don't know what I was expecting," he shrugged innocently and Nesta took a step into the room, knowing that you wouldn't mind.

"It's comfortable, isn't it?" Azriel hummed in agreement as his eyes traced along the walls, "Everyone comes in here when they need to talk, she's always ready to drop everything and listen," Nesta's eyes glistened with fondness, like she too had been one of the people safe within your comfort, "It's like a sanctuary, she has this ability to make everything make sense. It's crazy."

"I don't doubt that," Azriel muttered, his heart fluttering with new information about you, "Ruhn found us today, invited her to the game tonight, something about Eris and Ithan always playing better when she's there?"

Nesta bristled with unease, "Oh, Eris."

"You're making that face."

"What face?"

"The face you make when you don't like someone."

Nesta thinned her lips and sighed, taking a step further into the room and closing the door behind her, "It's no secret that Eris wants y/n, he tries it on with her every chance he gets. Eris knows how to play the game, and he can play it well, I've seen him do it to others," Nesta sighed, perching on the edge of your bed and running her hand over the quilted floral blanket, "Y/N is like forbidden fruit, the only reason he wants her is to make it clear that he can take whatever he wants from us and fuck the consequences. She's one of us, and he hates us, so he wants to hurt her."

"I'll never let him hurt her," Azriel's determination made Nesta smile, a genuine one, they were the exact words she needed to hear.

"Good. Neither will we," she stood from the edge of the bed and allowed her gaze to wander about the neat but also haphazard room, "Looks like we're all going to the game tonight."

Azriel's eyes darted about the entrances to the stands, looking for any sign of you, from Ruhn's height and Hunt's wings, to Bryce's red wine stained hair and Fury's leather jacket. So far nothing bar the stale beer in his red cup was able to hold his attention.

That was until Cassian nudged him, fixing his attention on the entrance to their stand where Bryce was stood, beckoning back to someone with an outstretched hand. Someone took hold of the offer, and then he saw you grasping to her with a large smile on your face and dazed eyes, Ruhn's arm was slung over your shoulder and he wore the same dazed look in his eye as you did.

The group grazed over your figure as Bryce led you up the steps to a free section in the pews a couple steps before their own. Thigh high black boots, that were clearly Bryce's, were glued to your legs, and a forest green football jersey dress flowed down your figure and ended just where the boots ended. That forest green jersey you adorned possessed Eris' signature number 10 stamped on the back and Nesta's anger seethed through the row as she noticed something about you that she had very rarely ever seen.

"She's fucking high," Nesta bit through her teeth and Cassian had to wrap an arm around her waist to stop her from marching over to Ruhn and smacking him square in the jaw, "She doesn't wear that shit. She doesn't smoke that shit."

There was a sadness in your eyes that Azriel couldn't quite place, but through your dazed state, he couldn't quite decipher if the sadness was real or a figment of his imagination. A wide smile worked its way onto your lips when you saw your friends, still hand-in-hand with Bryce who was leading you down the pew, you waved at them and leaned back to whisper something to Ruhn who barked a laugh before sitting down and plastering you to his side.

Mor leaned around Cassian with a frown, "What's going on with her?" Feyre and Rhys also leaned forward with worry in their eyes, "Az, you were with her today, did she seem off?"

Azriel shook his head, "No, she was perfect," he told them, turning to you and staring at the back of your head, watching you laugh at Bryce and lean into Ruhn's side.

Mor hummed, leaning directly over Cassian to whisper to Nesta, "Is it her brother again?"

"Her brother?" Azriel asked, he didn't know that you had a brother, he had heard little of your family at all actually.

Sighing, Nesta turned to Azriel, "Y/N's parents died when she was a child, her mother died of cancer, and her father died of an overdose a couple years later," Nesta looked to you sadly, "Y/N and Caden are best friends, and they both hate their older brother. He's been trying to move Caden across the country for years now since their nana became sick, she's been fighting it every step of the way. Something must have happened, she's usually so anti-drugs, she wouldn't just jump into it for no reason."

It was information that broke his heart, he never would have thought that you had come from such a traumatic upbringing, losing your mother to a horrible disease and then your father to addiction, then facing the possibility of losing your best friend. It made him want to rush to you, to pepper your face in kisses and tell you that it would be alright, that he would fight with you.

"How old is he?"

"Sixteen," Mor replied solemnly, "Harry is twenty-seven, there's not much stopping him from taking Caden away at this point."

Caden. The blonde curly haired teenager you were smiling with that was the permanent backdrop of your phone screen. The blue eyed male that Azriel had always wondered about but never dared to ask of, not wanting to ask the wrong question and upset you.

Heavy drums pierced through the air and the crowds erupted as the two teams ran onto the field, Eris was a godly male, fiery red hair and russet eyes, he turned on his heel, seemingly knowing where to look as he peered up to you, blowing you a kiss and adjusting his shoulder pads. Azriel watched you cheer with Bryce, swigging from your bottles of beer that Hunt had snuck in and leaning into Ruhn's side who swam in the ocean of your presence.

The game was intense, every minute ticked by and everyone held a collective breath as the seconds counted down to the end of the match. The ball was firmly wedged in Eris' arm as he bundled down the pitch, using his brute force and agility to dodge between tackling bodies and push his way through. You were on your feet, tipsy and still dazed from the mirthroot you and Ruhn had smoked prior to entering the stands, Eris' name was leaving your lips in a scream, just like it was leaving everyone's lips as he lunged, grasping the final touchdown with one second to go.

Screams erupted in the stands and beer went flying in every direction, Ruhn picked you up in his arms and twirled you around as Ithan jumped on Eris on the grass below, bashing their helmets together and celebrating their win. Eris looked up at you, removing his helmet and pointing it in your direction, "You're my lucky charm, y/n!"

Bodies began to move, all standing and shuffling down the pews and toward the open exits, no doubt heading to the frat house to continue to party. Azriel tried to keep his eye on you as Nesta ushered him down the steps, also wanting nothing more than to tuck you into bed and find out what was going on with you.

But you were gone.

They had all tried to keep an eye on your forest green dress, had tried to follow Bryce's notable hair and Hunt's wings, but they found nothing of your presence remaining in the swarm of students littering about the college parking lot.

"I'm calling Bryce," Nesta snatched her phone from her leather purse and furiously dialled the number of her friend, demanding to know where they had gone, barking out a rough 'thank you' and hanging up, "The afterparty is at Bryce's, I always forget that she lives with Ithan. Come on."

Music thumped through the walls of the house that was piled full of students, Azriel, Cassian and Rhys pushed the group through into the main seating area that was void of any furniture bar a couple of tables and stands for the kegs that were dotted about the room. Nesta spied you first, and Cassian tried to catch her arm before she made a scene, but Nesta Archeron did not care for precious male egos.

Grasping your wrist away from Eris, the eldest Vanserra snarled and quipped something that must have pissed her off because Cassian swore aloud as she planted her fist directly into the centre of his face. You screeched her name furiously, pushing her away from Eris, away from you, pushing her all the way into the back yard where you stood on the steps screaming at her in front of your shared family that had filed out behind you.

"What the fuck are you doing?" Azriel had never seen you angry, let alone seething, Nesta stood on the ground below you, teetering on the edge of world-ending anger.

"What am I doing? What are you doing?" They watched your shoulders drop, "You're here with Ruhn and Eris? You're dressed in that pathetic green jersey that I know for a fact doesn't belong to you. You're high. Who the fuck are you?"

Bryce stepped to your side, "Nesta, Stop it," she pleaded, looking between you with worry, confirming Nesta's suspicion that something had most definitely happened.

It was you and Bryce on the steps with Ruhn and Hunt lingering in the doorway, the rest of them were stood on the grass, Cassian was trying to calm Nesta down before she no doubt said something she would regret later, "You're supposed to be her friend, have you lost your mind?!"

Growling, Bryce took a singular step down, shielding you, "I am looking out for her the way she needs me to. I'd never let anything bad happen to her, Nes. You know that."

"Stop talking about me like I'm not here!" You were shaking, Azriel wasn't sure if it was the anger or the sudden gust of cold wind that graced the borough, "How dare you punch Eris like that. He's done nothing wrong. Apologise."

"Absolutely not."

"Nes," Cassian trailed off, watching you barge past Bryce to stand in front of her.

"Apologise. Why must you be so hateful of everyone that isn't us?"

Azriel could basically hear the branches snap in Nesta's mind, her eyebrow arched and she cocked her head to the side, not able to stop the hateful words from flowing from her mouth, "Is Caden finally being taken away from you? Is that it?" Bryce held her breath and you froze, even Ruhn and Hunt moved to your side in that moment as she continued to hurl her words, "I may be hateful, y/n. At least I have my family, yours just keeps on dying and being taken away from you. Is that why you're high, hm? Caden is being taken away to live a better life away from you, to live a life that you can't give him so you're going to drown in mirthroot to forget like your father did when your mother died?"

"Nesta!" Feyre gasped, covering her mouth with her hands as they all stood powerless to stop her tirade.

"At least I have my sisters, y/n. At least my father loved me. At least I have a boyfriend who adores me and friends who couldn't live without me. At least I have a fucking future-"

A curt slap cut through her words, her head snapped to the side and she cradled her check, stuttering like she only just realised what she had said when she looked to you, tears streaming down your face and bottom lip bubbling, "Don't you ever talk about my family."

Nesta's eyes went wide, "Y/N, I - oh my god, I-"

"For your information, Caden is being taken away from me. You're right, I guess everything does get taken away from me in the end," you looked defeated, deflated, broken, and Nesta had just rubbed poison in your gaping wound, "I never want to see you again," your face contorted into heart breaking sadness as sobs rattled through your chest.

Azriel went to move to you but Bryce was on you in an instant, wiping your tears away, turning your broken body away from them into Hunt's awaiting arms who seemed to be doing his best to contain his anger as he listened to Bryce and escorted you back into the house, up the stairs and into the confinements of her bedroom.

The red wine haired female turned to them, glancing at each of them in turn before landing on Nesta, "Well done, Nes. You really knocked it out of the park this time."

"Bryce, I-"

"Save it," Bryce scoffed, "She trusted you more than anyone, Nesta. She told you everything, she cried to you about this, about how terrified she was of this happening, she confided her darkest moments to you and you come here and throw it in her face for what? Because you were angry? Because you didn't want to see her with Eris or Ruhn? Whatever the reason is isn't good enough on any scale," she moved her gaze to Feyre and Azriel, "You should be ashamed of yourselves for letting that happen," then she turned her eye to Rhys, "If you have any decency then you'll get your pack out of my home. I'll come and collect her things tomorrow, she'll be staying with us whilst we help her through this."

Mor sputtered, "You can't do that."

Bryce's russet orbs sparked into flame, "I think you'll see that I can do that. You heard her. Y/N never wants to see that one ever again," she pointed to Nesta and snarled, "I'm not about to send her back to you. We have room for her here, at least she won't have her painful life thrown in her face. Now, leave."

Elain was standing in the foyer of the home, tapping her foot against the wood, a snarl plastered to her face. Lucien sat on the bottom step, head hung low, and he refused to look up once they all entered.

"What did you do?" Elain growled at her older sister, your phone was in her hand, the background lit up to the same picture of yourself and Caden, and Nesta felt herself beginning to cry at the sight of it, "Don't you dare cry."

"Elain, it was a mistake. I didn't mean to blow up like that-"

"Tell me why I picked up my best friends phone to the sound of her sobbing. You broke her Nesta, she's completely broken and drowning because of you."

Elain continued, "You know she was terrified of this moment, you know that she was planning to take Caden in the moment she graduated to give him a loving home. She watched her parents die, she became a mother herself when they did, she promised Caden she'd make a life to be proud of for them, and you had the audacity to throw every broken dream in her face? I'm so disgusted in you," Lucien fell at her side at the sound of her strained words, at the sound of the sobs threatening to take over her soul, "She's been there for all of us, she's always been the one we went to and abused with our own problems, there's a reason she's so good at listening, it's because she has never been heard in her whole life. She begged the heavens to spare her mother, she begged the universe to let her keep her father, she gave everything she had to keep Caden close, she has nothing left to give now. It's all be taken from her, and not only has she lost the last member of her blood family, she's lost you too."

Elain picked up the duffel bag containing your essentials, fluffy pyjamas, your toothbrush, a change of clothes, a copy of your favourite book, your sketching pencils and laptop. She stopped in front of Nesta, Lucien stood not far behind her, "You should be disgusted in yourself. I know I am. I wouldn't blame her if she never came back to any of us after this."

"Please tell her-"

"No. I'm not doing anything for you."

Then Elain exited, slamming the door behind her and Lucien.

The heart of the house was heavy without you there to lift it, and Feyre was the first to move, Rhys' hand entwined in hers, "We're going to go to bed," she stopped beside Nesta, "I've never seen her look that sad. Maybe Elain is right, maybe she never felt heard here."

Azriel understood you then, why you were so addicted to art and stories, "She's a bookworm," he looked to the door, hoping that you'd burst through it like sunshine in a stormy sky, "Any story is better than her own, that's why she's always reading, she wants to escape, to lose herself in a story in a world that isn't this one."

Nesta sobbed, Cassian tried to comfort her but he was also clearly disappointed in the words she had so venomously thrown at you, the disappointment clear as he looked toward Azriel who looked equally as defeated as you had on that grass.

The family felt cracked and fragmented, and Azriel, for the first time, didn't know how to fix it.

Authors Note

Ouch :/

@paankhaleyaar

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feeder86 · 1 year

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SNAP!

“Ow! Shit! What the hell…?” Joel shouted, turning around to see what had hit him hard on his backside. He could feel the skin on his rear stinging. Whatever it was that had smacked him, his ass hurt like hell! But as he looked around, he couldn’t see anyone there in the moonlit garden. “Shit!” he moaned again, rubbing his butt, hardly believing that it was still hurting so much.

“What’s the matter?” Harry drunkenly asked, walking into the garden himself, chuckling from his friend’s unknown misfortune. “Ow! SHIT!” he blasted himself a moment later. “Who the fuck was that?”

“Argh! Fuck me!” blasted Danny, as he too followed them both. Joel could just make him out, standing there on the path, rubbing his own rear. “What the fuck is going on?” He ripped his cell phone from his pocket, letting the screen light up and cast a dim glow on the garden as the boys all came together, back on the path.

There, standing in front of them, was an older, stern-looking woman, staring up angrily. She held a walking stick in her hand and the boys immediately knew that that was clearly the source of their current discomfort.

“What the hell are you doing, old woman?” Harry grumbled, still rubbing his ass. “That fucking hurt y’know!”

“Don’t you talk to me like that!” the woman shot back, pointing the stick up at his face, so close that he went cross-eyed from following its swift movement. “You’re trespassing! I’ve seen you boys here every night this week; drunk on beer and taking a shortcut through my garden; trampling through all my plants!”

“This is assault, you know that?” Danny shot back, incensed by the pain he still felt. “You’re a fucking danger! Old hags like you should be in a nursing home!”

His head spinning from the beer, Joel put a hand on his buddy’s broad back,seeing that he was going a little far. The old lady was quite right after all, they weren’t supposed to be there in her garden.

“I was married to a jumped-up, arrogant pig, just like you three,” the woman began, still managing to make eye contact with all of them, even with Danny’s cell phone shining in her face. “He thought that the world should revolve around him too; that no one else mattered but him,” the lady continued, showing them all her contempt and disgust. “He was under the impression that his good looks were all he needed in life. And just like you three, he didn’t have any manners or respect for women either.” She paused; the garden becoming eerily quiet. “You’ll get what you deserve though. The way you treat people in life always has consequences.”

“Whatever!” Danny huffed, continuing to charge through the garden to jump the fence at the other end. “Come on guys. Just ignore her,” he called back to them both.

“You’ll see!” the old woman cried with a voice dripping with satisfaction. “Maybe tomorrow, maybe next month, or ten years from now, but one day everyone will see what arrogant pigs you really are.

Joel heard Harry begin to follow on. Feeling a pit of guilt about upsetting the old lady, he waited a moment longer. “I’m sorry,” he mumbled, before turning and following the other two; climbing the fence and making that shortcut back to the frat house.

Over the following years, Joel looked back fondly on his time in college. He’d worked hard and played harder. But it had also got him to where he needed to be in life: a good job, with plenty of travel opportunities; perfect for someone with few aspirations to ever settle down. Back in the day, he would have said that Danny was a closer friend to him than Harry. However, it was only Harry that he remained in contact with these days. Sometimes that was just the way life worked out.

“There you are, you handsome bastard!” Harry cried; his face lighting up as soon as he saw Joel arriving at the wedding venue. “Have you ever seen a prettier face on a guy than this one here?” he joked to those around him as he embraced Joel for the first time since his stag party a couple of months earlier.

“How are you feeling? Nervous?” Joel asked his friend. He stepped back, feeling that something was different when he hugged Harry. “What’s this?” he asked, reaching a hand out to rub a small paunch that seemed to be sprouting from Harry’s middle. “Have you been stress eating?” he joked, finding it incomprehensible that fitness-obsessed Harry would ever carry a few extra pounds on his athletic frame.

Harry laughed, but immediately changed the subject, clearly embarrassed about his new shape. Joel looked on as his buddy nervously paced up and down, checking on things before his bride would be arriving. His suit was surprisingly ill-fitting. The pants were snug around his butt cheeks and Joel wasn’t altogether convinced that the top button was in place underneath the guy’s belt. It was clearly a fresh gain, for Harry had shown no signs of getting a little chunky at the stag party when he’d raved all night without a shirt on. In fact, even when his stunning bride arrived, walking down the aisle, her eyes were not filled with the loving adoration that most would expect. Instead, she frowned, seeming to silently scold Harry as she looked down at the tight stretch of his shirt buttons.

Joel’s attention soon started to wander as the day went on. Harry had clearly started early that morning, building his courage before the ceremony. So when the beers and champagne flowed later on, it was clear that he was struggling a little more than most. The chief bridesmaid was ridiculously sexy and as Joel made enquiring eyes over in her direction, he was pleased to see that the interest appeared to be mutual. There weren’t many people that Joel knew at the wedding, and aside from the guys he’d met at the stag party, he’d turned his charm up to full blast in order to make friends. But that bridesmaid was still looking over at him, getting Joel so aroused that he didn’t even notice a gluttonous Harry making his fifth tour of the buffet. The sex, when they eventually made it that far, was pretty decent for a one-night fling, and Joel lay back in bed feeling more than satisfied; content to stay there the entire night and enjoy a second round in the morning.

“It was a good wedding yesterday,” Joel rambled after they came. It was still too early in the morning to just take off; feeling that he needed to hang around for at least twenty minutes so that it didn’t seem rude. “I think they’ll be very happy together.”

The bridesmaid huffed sceptically. “Ya think?” she asked, as if she knew something Joel didn’t. Then, when Joel looked at her curiously, she rolled her eyes and told him everything. “Harry and I slept together a couple of nights ago. He told me he’d always had a thing for me and that he couldn’t get married without having me first… We were both drunk. He came in less than three minutes. It really wasn’t good!”

“Harry cheated?” Joel asked, completely shocked. He could hardly believe it. Then again, he’d been so turned on when he’d spotted this girl only yesterday. He couldn’t imagine having to stare at her for years and years and never getting to have any fun with her. It was the whole reason why Joel never did relationships, and he made thoroughly sure that everyone knew it. “Does anyone know that you two..?” he began asking.

“No. I’ve not told anyone. It doesn’t exactly make me look good, does it? Sleeping with my best friend’s husband!” She sighed and held her face in her hands.

Joel was soon putting his pants back on and making his escape. He slipped back into his own room and freshened up before heading down for breakfast in the hotel. It was still early and not many had made it down as yet. However, there was Harry, still dressed in his tight pants and shirt from the night before, greedily feasting from one of the many plates of food he’d brought back to his table.

“Hey, buddy!” Joel cried, slipping his hands onto Harry’s shoulders as if to massage him. “What’re you doing up so early? And where’s your wife?” he laughed, trying his best to forget about the guy’s infidelity.

Harry didn’t answer. He only ate.

“Is everything alright with you two?” Joel asked, setting aside his usual boyish bravado whilst he spoke to Harry now. The revelation of Harry’s cheating had unnerved him.

“I woke up feeling really hungry,” Harry replied between mouthfuls. “Has the fresh bacon come out yet?” he asked, looking up at the buffet tables. “They said it was coming.”

Joel could see several greasy plates, already emptied and waiting to be collected from Harry’s table. “Dude, it’s the morning after your wedding. Why are you worrying about bacon?”

“Is the bacon ready, or not?” Harry demanded aggressively.

“Harry!” Joel gasped in shock. “What the fuck is going on with you?”

Seeming to realise he’d overstepped, Harry looked ashamed, dropped his fork and put his hand to his surprisingly sweaty forehead. “Joel, I don’t know what’s happening to me!” he mumbled. “I did something, and now…”

Harry suddenly looked like he was fighting something inside of himself. His body jerked forwards slightly and it seemed almost as if something was trying to climb out of his throat. That was when it happened. He snorted quietly, as if making an impression of a baby pig. Immediately, the tension in his face seemed to retreat and he snorted twice more, just a little louder, before picking up his fork again and setting back to the copious amount of food still on his plate.

Joel suddenly found that his heart was racing. It wasn’t the fact that Harry had just done something so strange; it was the fact that he had done something that was actually unsettlingly familiar…

Eight years earlier, it had been the boys’ final weeks in college. Despite the beautiful sunshine that had arrived, everyone had grown strangely serious, studying and spending every last minute thinking about their final projects. Everyone, that was, apart from Danny. He’d always been the party-boy; the bad influence, always getting himself into trouble. But now the guy had seemed to drop off the face of the Earth. Perhaps it wasn’t all that surprising, given that everyone Joel knew had come to him and asked if he’d heard from Danny since it had all kicked off after the final football game of the season. There had been a huge party and, just like the other boys, Danny had become very drunk, very quickly.

“I hope he’s ashamed of himself,” Emma stated snootily. “Doing that to Jemma just before her final exams! It’s unforgivable.”

Joel tried not to take sides or nod in any way that might signal to Emma that he agreed with her. After all, Danny was his best friend. He’d made a mistake, getting so drunk and kissing Harriet like that. But we’re all human. Mistakes are what we’re best at.

“He’s not replied to any of my messages since last Tuesday,” Joel explained, trying to reframe the situation and let Emma see that he was currently more concerned about Danny’s safety than he was about Jemma’s broken heart. “Even his mom hasn’t heard from him since the weekend.”

“Hopefully he’s dead in a ditch somewhere!” Emma snapped unsympathetically, refusing to be drawn into the building crisis. Then she strutted away from Joel as if he too was contaminated by Danny’s deceit.

Joel tried not to let the worry overtake him. The guy in the dormroom next to Danny had reported hearing him going in and out at strange times. However, Danny hadn’t ever been in when Joel had tried to reach him. Either that, or he simply hadn’t opened the door.

“I need to get into my friend’s room,” Joel explained to the lady at the desk, flashing his devilishly handsome smile, whilst maintaining the doe-eyed look of concern. Even at that age, Joel was more than aware that his good looks were going to get him further in life than any college degree could “No one has heard from him in days. His mom is calling me up every couple of hours.”

“Oh, dear!” the lady replied, rising to her feet. “Well, it’s not really allowed. But this clearly isn’t a normal situation. I suppose, if I came with you, it should be okay…” she pondered aloud, stepping out from behind the desk, ready to follow Joel wherever he was leading her and trying her best not to stare at his cute little butt as she trotted on behind him.

The smell of stale sweat and old beer hit the nostrils hard as soon as Danny’s door was opened. Both of them recoiled a little as they entered the dark space, where the curtains had clearly been drawn for many days. Joel’s finger slid over the greasy light switch, illuminating the large body of the Quarterback sprawled, face down and naked over the bed.

Joel’s feet kicked through empty food cartons and beer bottles as he rushed over to check if Danny was okay. He pushed his hand against the guy’s broad back, surprised at how hot and almost feverish the skin felt to the touch. Breathing just fine, Joel knew that his buddy was most likely on the verge of one hell of a hangover. Perhaps he should have been more weirded out that his friend’s naked, meaty butt was on show, but Joel had seen Danny without his clothes on so many times before: in the changing rooms, or when he was irredemably drunk or high and letting his exhibitionist side out.

“I think we should open the window,” the lady suggested, holding her finger over her nose and looking like she had no intention of doing it herself; or even touching anything in the dirty room.

Feeling obliged to her for getting him inside, Joel immediately followed her suggestion. “I can look after him from here,” he offered, seeing how uncomfortable she was. “I think he might have just had a little bit too much to drink.”

“I think you need to pick your friends more wisely,” the lady whispered to Joel. She was looking over at Danny’s hunched over form; his naked rear pointing directly in her direction as he let rip in his sleep.

“I will,” Joel smiled, determined to remain polite but desperately wanting to get her out so that he could speak to Danny properly and find out what on earth was going on with him. He followed her to the door, closing it behind her, even though the smell of the room was really quite potent.

The mess all over the floor was unreal, like Danny had invited a hundred people over to party in his tiny bedroom.

“Danny! Come on, wake up!” Joel called to him, shaking the football player by the shoulder. He was so hot to the touch, with a thin layer of sweat all over him. “I need to check that you’re okay. Where the hell have you been?”

Danny suddenly stirred and slowly flopped over onto his front. His body on show, Joel instinctively jumped straight off the bed, thinking for a moment that this wasn’t Danny after all. Sitting beneath his mighty pecs was a rather large and distended gut, bloated to the extreme. Danny was groaning and reached his hand to hold it, like it was still expanding and hurting him.

“What the hell have you eaten?” Joel demanded, his eyes wide in shock.

“Everything!” a groggy Danny replied.

“Danny, look at your stomach!” Joel implored him, demanding that he snap out of his stupor. “Have you taken something?”

Despite shaking his head, Danny didn’t even open his eyes. Whilst rubbing his belly, his other hand went straight to his dick, stroking it up and down, even with Joel there in front of him.

That was when Joel heard it: the oinking sounds coming from Danny’s throat. Combined with the stomach rubs he was giving himself, it was as if Danny was making the sounds in order to help himself get off.

“Danny, stop!” Joel demanded, trying to rip Danny’s arm away from his dick. But Danny was strong and holding on tight.

“She did it,” Danny murmured. “This is what she wanted. She said.”

“Who did?” Joel asked, watching as Danny appeared to get closer and closer to coming with quite remarkable speed.

“That woman in the garden. She cursed us.” Danny mumbled, his voice getting deeper and deeper as the inevitable was approaching. “She’s turning me into a…” he tried, before the oinking sounded out once again. Huge jets erupted from his dick, landing all over the duvet and even on the sleeve of Joel’s jacket.

“Danny! What the fuck!” Joel shouted, filled with rage and anger now. But all he could see was his bloated friend, grinning with his eyes still closed tight and a look of contentment spreading over him. “That’s not cool!” Joel spat, trying not to look at the semen on his sleeve in fear that he might start gagging. The stench of the room wasn’t helping either. “Fine!” he stated at last. “If you don’t want my help, I’m just going to leave you like this.”

Joel knew he wasn’t making an empty threat. Why did Danny deserve his help when he’d got himself into a state like this?

“I’m going now,” he announced, hoping that Danny would rouse, even a little, to say something to him.

But Danny was silent and already falling blissfully back to sleep. As Joel left the room, he had no idea that he would actually never see his friend again.

“Harry,” Joel whispered quietly, sitting at the breakfast table with his buddy the morning after his wedding. “Do you remember that time in college when…” Joel began speculatively.

Harry’s face suddenly turned deadly serious, as if he too had been thinking about exactly the same thing. “Danny,” he mumbled; a name that had not passed his lips in years. He stood, as if in a sudden panic. “I’ve got to go!” he mumbled. “I can’t let this…”

The kitchen doors swung open and a steaming tray of fresh bacon was making its way to the buffet. Harry’s face calmed, grabbing his plate and rushing over to fill it up; forgetting everything.

Joel left with an uneasy feeling after the wedding and, against his usual policy, he took the bridesmaid’s phone number and asked her to let him know if things were okay with the newlyweds. He certainly wasn’t expecting to hear from her less than two weeks later, informing Joel that it was over. Just like that, Harry’s wife had left him, packing her bags and abandoning the apartment that they had lived in together to move back in with her mother.

It was a long drive to get there, but the feeling of dread at the pit of Joel’s stomach was almost too much for him to bear. He’d thought so much about the similarities between what had happened to Harry and Danny, enough to entertain the possibility that curses could actually come true. Perhaps it was the fact that the sting of the walking stick hitting his butt still twinged occasionally. As if the impact of it was sitting just beneath his skin after all these years. He had to see Harry. He had to rid himself of these doubts and worries in his mind. There was no choice in the matter.

Joel couldn’t get into the apartment block; there was no answer when he buzzed through or tried to call Danny’s cell phone. It was only when he caught the door as someone was leaving that he managed to enter and creep up to Harry’s floor. He knocked on the door, getting no response and feeling the strangest sense of deja vu.

“Hi,” Joel smiled at the middle aged lady who answered the door across the hall. He leaned himself into the doorframe and plastered his face with the boyish smile that always got him what he wanted with the ladies. “I’m supposed to be staying with my buddy, Harry, tonight,” he lied, pointing at the apartment door behind him. “I think he must have forgotten what time I was arriving though!” he sighed, rolling his eyes dramatically and widening his smile even more still. “I don’t suppose you know whether any of the neighbors keep a spare for that apartment, do they?”

The lady, who had already been beaming at him, nodded emphatically. “It’s Joel, isn’t it?” she asked. “I remember you from the wedding!”

Pretending to remember her, Joel nodded and told her how great it was to see her again. Most people he met seemed to remember him. And so it was that, within no time at all, he was holding the spare key in his hands, bracing himself for what he might find behind Harry’s closed door.

The first thing that hit Joel was the empty space inside the apartment. It was immediately obvious that there had, until very recently, been a lot more furniture inside. The sofas were gone, with piles of papers and junk sitting in stacks around the space. There was a faint sound of heavy breathing coming from somewhere, but the lack of furniture seemed to disorintate Joel as he explored, looking for his friend. Finally, he swung open a door and found the tiny kitchen space. It was an absolute mess, with a large, stout and barely dressed man asleep on the tiled floor; his head propped back against the cupboards. It seemed as if Harry had been to the supermarket only that day, for one of the paper bags remained intact on the floor. The others, however, seemed to have been ripped to shreds the moment Harry had returned. The floor was covered with the evidence of it all; his mouth smeared with bits of everything; an ill-fitting t-shirt stained and stretched beyond anything that would have been acceptable to wear outside of the apartment.

Harry’s gut was monstrous, his belly button deep and highly visible. Still, he looked strong and broad, even intimidating considering the sheer mass of him. How much had he actually eaten to grow so enormous in such a short time? No wonder his marriage was over. He barely resembled the slightly overweight man he had been only a couple of weeks earlier. He’d fallen asleep with his right hand resting inside his overstretched boxers, giving the impression that he’d masturbated before he’d finally lost consciousness. What an absolute mess!

Joel poked at his friend until he started to rouse. “Get up,” he ordered, trying to hide his irritation that Harry had got himself into this state. “I’m here to look after you,” he stated, suddenly realising that this was never going to be a flying visit. There was no point in trying to ask what was going; no hope of getting any sense out of the man. “Go get yourself a shower and I’ll clean up in here.”

Harry barely seemed to register Joel’s presence as unusual. He rose to his feet clumsily, causing more crumbs and packaging to rain down on the already daunting floor that Joel would have to tidy. He stumbled, almost drunkenly into the door, then strutted, as if unsure of how to carry his own body weight, back into the lounge and disappeared into the bathroom.

“I never told you how bad it was last time I saw Danny,” Joel admitted a couple of hours later, having carried a chair from the bedroom for his buddy to sit on and opting for a short stool for himself. “At least, not the full details,” he admitted, feeling the same sense of shame he had carried with him for years now. How could he have ever abandoned a friend like that? “But, whatever you seem to be experiencing, I think he was going through the same thing. Whatever this is, he wasn’t able to control it either,” Joel stressed, trying to keep Harry’s eyes focused on him. “You’re the only other person in the world who could possibly understand what I’m about to say, but… I think this is all happening because of that night. The old woman in the garden.”

Harry nodded slowly, as if only just comprehending. He sat without a shirt on; his giant butt contained, at least for now, inside straining material that dug sharply into his hips. “She said we were…” Harry started, before Joel stopped him. He didn’t need to hear it.

“I think we need to go back. I think we need to find her. If she’s still alive that is.” He rubbed his forehead, hardly believing that he was saying this. It was all insane madness. Where had his rational brain vanished to? Nevertheless, it was the only course of action he could think of. “First thing in the morning, I’m taking you to that house. And we’re not returning until we have some proper answers.”

Joel made good on his promise, getting Harry out of the apartment bright and early the next day. It hadn’t been easy either; Joel had re-entered the apartment at six in the morning, having crashed in his car for the night as there hadn’t even been a sofa, or comfy chair for him to take inside. Immediately, he had heard the sounds of Harry gorging himself on whatever was left in the kitchen that Joel had spent so long cleaning the night before. He’d been furious and his harsh tone seemed to be the only thing that finally got Harry moving. They’d stopped very briefly for Joel to head quickly into a mall and buy something a little less fitted for Harry. The sight of his big ass crack had turned Joel’s stomach that morning, and there was simply no way he was prepared to let the guy out of the car until that gut of his was covered up.

Harry seemed to drift in and out of full awareness. For ten minutes, he could be bright and clear; explaining vividly why his marriage had so quickly broken down due to the strange urges he’d been experiencing. At these times, he appeared completely self-aware and disgusted with himself. Then, after this period ended, he seemed to become more animalistic. His urges built until he was growling for Joel to stop and let him buy more food. He’d rub his belly and stroke his dick, complaining bitterly that he couldn’t climax without feeling his belly stretching with food. Joel had yelled at him to put his dick away, fearing that those around them would see. It also made Harry sweat quite considerably. Joel could see the shimmer on the guy’s skin and tried not to retch as he imagined the sweat building under Harry’s armpits and within the folds of skin; all of it soaking into his car upholstery. He put his foot down, driving onwards at a steady pace and making good progress by midday.

At long last, the two men were pulling up outside the house that they had known so many years ago. There had been so many familiar places on the way in through the city; Joel’s mind singing with nostalgia. If only he was here under more pleasant circumstances.

“Maybe you should wait in the car?” Joel suggested, reaching into his backpack and pulling out a handful of protein bars to distract the glutton whilst he slipped out and locked him inside; knowing that Harry was a little too spaced out to find the unlocking button and that he had at least three minutes before the car alarm would sound. The knowledge of that made him move with a little more haste into the garden and up the stairs to the front door.

The garden still looked the same as it had back then: well tended and functional, vegetables and fruits growing in most of the spaces. He rang the bell, surprised at how fast his heart was beating. Despite knowing for quite some time that he was coming here, the reality of it only seemed to hit him at that moment, as he waited for someone to answer the door to him.

“Hello!” Joel called out after some time had passed without any response. “My name is Joel Rogerson. I used to go to college here a few years ago,” he tried, not wanting to have come all this way for nothing.

Suddenly there was movement from inside and Joel’s heart quickened again. Someone was coming to the door, one slow step at a time. He braced himself, swallowing hard and trying to look smart for reasons that he could not entirely explain to himself. When the door opened, Joel’s jaw dropped. Standing there was the one person he had least expected to see in the entire world; a face he had not looked upon in many years, but one that he strangely recognised with ease. Unmistakable, it was old buddy, Danny. His face was altered, swollen with fat that had enveloped his entire neck and shrunk his eyes back into his head. He was also shirtless; wide, with an enormous, apron-like gut falling lower than his crotch and a belly button that looked deeper than any Joel had ever seen. He couldn’t imagine the audacity and lack of pride Danny had to come to the door looking like he had.

“No shit!” Danny scoffed, gazing a little down at his old friend, standing there on the porch. “I remember you,” he chuckled, as if he had lived an entire lifetime since their old college days. “What the hell are you doing here?”

“I was about to ask you the same question,” Joel replied, caught, almost speechless, at the sight of the monstrously large man Danny had become. Easily surpassing five hundred pounds, Danny loomed large and wide, yet his shoulders appeared strong and masculine, but for the sagging nipples that dripped from his broad chest.

Suddenly, Danny became more interested and his nose twitched, sniffing at the scent he was picking up from Joel. “Who have you brought with you?” he demanded; seemingly excited. He stepped out of the house and gazed into the street, just as Joel’s car alarm burst into life; Harry inside, tearing at Joel’s backpack in the hope of finding more snacks.

Sighing, Joel unlocked the car with a click and Harry immediately climbed out. Amazingly, Danny was charging across the street to meet him; the fat wobbling and the skin folds on his enormous back on show for all to see. He embraced Harry with a genuine delight that he hadn’t shown Joel, guiding him into the house eagerly.

“So, what’s happening to him then?” Joel asked a short while later, once Danny had set Harry up with a large stack of peanut butter and jelly sandwiches that he was already making fast progress with. The whole house was a mess and the kitchen dirtier still. Joel couldn’t imagine accepting any food that came out of it, but Harry didn’t seem to even notice.

“The curse,” Danny chuckled, watching Harry gorging from across the room, like a proud father. “I’m guessing Harry cheated on someone, just like I did. Then, snap! The curse activates… But I’m sure you already worked that out.”

“It’s true then,” Joel sighed, losing all hope of this being one large and unfortunate coincidence.

“Of course it is!” Danny chuckled, unable to tear his eyes away from Harry as he attacked the stack of sandwiches with nothing but pure gluttony. His eyes seemed to sparkle with delight, or worse, nostalgia.

“Is this how it happened to you?” Joel asked, setting aside his own guilt for abandoning Danny all those years ago.

“Pretty much!” Danny nodded, smirking as Harry seemed to speed up with his eating. “The food’s not even important. The curse is what is making him fat, not the calories. But it’s still fun to watch, eh?” he smiled, nodding briefly at Joel.

“How do we stop it?” Joel asked with a little impatience.

“You don’t,” Danny replied, suddenly short-tempered. “I came here, trying to find the old lady who did this. She let me stay here; said she needed a good, strong fat boy to look after her garden whilst she’s away. That’s how I ended up staying here. She grows things in the garden; special things that draw power from the soli; something can only be found in this area.” He looked at Joel, sensing his disbelief. “I don’t know how it works. “I just do as I’m told. I live here, rent-free, and have a little security guard job that keeps me in food,” he grinned, patting the monstrous tank of belly fat he had amassed. “She’ll be so pleased when I tell her Harry has shown up here at long last as well.”

“He’s not staying here,” Joel stated with absolute conviction, realising that Danny had altered beyond anything he recognised now. He was no friend; not any more. “He’s not going to end up like you have. I’ll make sure of that.”

Danny simply smirked at Joel’s challenge and called over to Harry as he watched the man snaffle the last of the bread. “Did you enjoy that?” he teased patronisingly, as if speaking to a child. He raised himself slowly and Joel tried hard not to look at the enormous ass on the man; each glute pumped full of fat, yet remaining strong and capable. “I’ve left out another little treat for you,” he went on, heading to the pantry and returning with a large carton of ice cream. He handed it to Harry, and chose to sit next to him now, deliberately goading Joel as he slipped his fat arm over his old friend, as if claiming him for his own. “You get that down you. You’ll feel better then… I promise.”

As much as Joel had wanted them both to leave, he knew his best hope of getting in touch with the old lady who had created the curse was to hang around and pick from what he could in the house. He’d pretended to need the bathroom, knowing he wouldn’t be missed downstairs, then slowly went on the hunt for anything that might help him. He wouldn’t be missed downstairs, given how infatuated the enormous Danny seemed to be with watching Harry eat.

There were three bedrooms in the house. Danny’s one was obvious straight away. His bed had become a giant pit, sinking in the middle and smelling of stale sweat. Empty snack wrappers and cartons filled the space in much the same way they had the last time Joel had gone in his dorm room and it was obvious, by the simplest of glances, that this was the room of a very obese man. Joel had hoped to find something in the other rooms, but they were nothing but dusty, soulless spaces, devoid of anything interesting whatsoever. Still he tried, lifting the mattresses and searching behind the wardrobes for anything that might help him track down the old lady who had once lived here; something he knew Danny would never help him do.

“That’s it, Piggy!” Danny cried from downstairs, accompanied by loud, deep moans from Harry. “Get every last drop down!”

Joel raced down, wondering what on earth Danny was inflicting upon Harry and kicking himself for having left him alone in the first place. He arrived in the living room just as Harry ejaculated all over his now naked body. His dick was very firmly in Danny’s fist, even as the fat man held a giant gallon bottle of milk over his open mouth. “What are you doing?” Joel demanded. “Leave him alone!”

Danny smiled at Harry, then leant in for a kiss, which Harry gladly accepted and returned; their tongues fusing together as Joel could only watch on. Then, rising to his feet, Danny’s smile faded and he looked grim-faced at Joel. All of a sudden, Joel felt himself being grabbed by his t-shirt and pushed back over the sweaty sofa; his chin held by Danny’s arm and the rest of him pinned against the enormous man’s mass. At that moment, Danny’s part time job as a security guard seemed to make perfect sense. Joel hadn’t even seen it coming and he squirmed, finding it hard to catch his breath.

“You’re killing my mood,” Danny growled at him. “All I’m doing is playing with the pig.”

“Harry… Harry,” Joel gasped, trying to look up at his friend, only inches away from him; sitting on the sofa where he had been laid out flat by the gigantic fat man. “Get him off me!”

Danny chuckled, looking across at Harry himself. “Keep eating, Fat Boy!” he teased. “Grow nice and fat for me!”

To Joel’s astonishment, Harry did exactly as he was told, picking up more of the food Danny had brought in and feeding himself without a single concern about Joel’s ongoing attack.

“He’s mine now!” Danny declared. “But thank you for bringing him to me. You can go home now.”

Harry!” Joel tried one last time; practically begging for him to get up off his ass and get Danny away from him. “Please!”

“You think you’re so much better than us, don’t you?” Danny growled. “But there were three little piggies who were cursed that night, remember…”

Seeing that Harry was not coming to his aid, Joel stared hard into Danny’s eyes; his gaze stern and defiant. “I’m nothing like you!” he growled with all the energy he had left in him.

Danny seemed to lower his face down to him and Joel tried to shrink away as he felt the disgusting guy’s hot breath on his face. “Here piggy, piggy, piggy!” Danny whispered in an almost inaudible tone.

Joel felt like he was about to pass out. The room seemed to go dark and he had the strangest feeling of suddenly being outside of his own body. Someone, somewhere, had started oinking like a pig.

When the room came back into focus again, Danny was stood again, with a naked Harry and his stout little belly standing by his side. They were both laughing, very clearly, at him; as if he had just done something he wasn’t even aware of.

Joel rubbed his face and rose properly to his feet, surprised by how dizzy he felt. He grabbed at Harry’s newly bought clothes, empty and discarded on the floor and held them out to him. “Harry, get dressed!” he demanded, feeling physically afraid to stay here any longer. “Come with me now.”

The two men were laughing at him still; as if every word that came out of his mouth was gibberish.

“I mean it, Harry! We have to leave!”

Finally, with no other idea of what to do, Joel threw the clothes down and headed straight for the door. He didn’t look back as his car engine roared into life. He’d done it again; taken the easy option, just as he had eight years earlier. And in doing so, he’d just kissed any hope of saving Harry goodbye.

Joel’s experience played on his mind for months. He felt irritable and impatient with people. He now knew for certain that a curse lived within him, like a parasite waiting for the order to eat him up from the inside. There was no one in the entire world who could know what it was like to live like that; there was no one who would believe him if he tried to explain it. Joel had never really considered marriage and starting a family, but now he felt like those options no longer existed for him anyway. Why open up to someone properly when the temptation to cheat could have such disastrous consequences? Why start a family when his whole life could suddenly fall apart, like Harry’s had?

Going back to his old life was never going to work, and Joel knew it. He needed a fresh start; to get away and make new experiences for himself. Working for a global company, there were occasionally opportunities for someone to make a big leap, just like Joel needed now. When the Gold Coast position came up, it felt like it was meant to be. Joel could easily see himself living in Australia. He’d always been a keen surfer and the lifestyle out there seemed to match entirely with his personality. As such, he didn’t waste any time in submitting an application; already starting to plan his big move.

“May the best candidate win!” Sarah smiled as she passed Joel in the corridor. “I hear you’re going for the transfer too?”

Joel raised his eyebrows in surprise. He knew that other people had the option to try out for the new job, but he hadn’t heard anyone else expressing an interest. If he was honest, he wouldn’t have minded all that much if someone else did go for it, but not Sarah. She had one of those formidable personalities: smart, alert and highly capable. She seemed to give off exactly the sort of energy and ethos the company liked best; it was clear to anyone who met her that she was climbing the ranks at rapid speed.

“How come you want to transfer to the Gold Coast?” Joel asked, trying not to let his longing for the job shine through. “I thought you’d want to be heading your way to head office and really start making a name for yourself?” he tried, hoping his words might make Sarah rethink.

“Oh, absolutely!” Sarah nodded. “But this job will be amazing for me, at least for a few months, don’t you think? Just imagine the experience I’ll get!” she beamed.

Joel bit his tongue. Sarah was willing to ruin this opportunity for him just to boost her CV. He could tell that she already knew she had the job, and why wouldn’t she? Everyone seemed to think the sun shone out of her ass. But she didn’t know how much Joel needed this move, and he doubted very much that an ambitious girl like her would even care if he ever tried to explain it to her.

It wasn’t Joel’s finest moment, but as he saw Sarah’s application form sitting there on their line-manager’s desk whilst she was out to lunch, he did the only thing he felt he could do to take back some sort of control in his life. Sifting through the papers, he took out the optional personal statement where Sarah always seemed to excel. He read it through, shaking his head. He’d spent hours trying to sell himself on his application, yet Sarah’s words were all so much better than his. Hell, if he was choosing, there’s no way he would give the job to anyone else after reading this. It was instinct: scrunching the personal statement into a ball and quickly scurrying out of the office, knowing that he had definitely given himself a much better chance: a last hope. There would be plenty more opportunities for the likes of Sarah. But, right now, Joel had to put himself first. He deserved this after all he had been through recently.

It was the Friday of that week when it happened. The clock ticked to midday and Joel suddenly felt an almighty, thunderous slap on his butt. He was sitting down at his desk at the time and he jumped up shouting a loud expletive. Everyone looked up at him from their computers, some scowling and sheltering their phones to protect customers from hearing any more unprofessional workplace language.

Joel didn’t care. He rubbed his ass, wondering what the fuck had hit him like a sharp, stinging cane travelling at a hundred miles an hour. Had no one else heard the loud SNAP as it had connected with him?

He sat back down, still grumbling as the busy office continued on regardless.

“Are you all right?” asked one of Joel’s colleagues. “You were in the bathroom for like, half an hour.”

Joel shook his head. “Was I?” he asked, squinting to see the time on his computer. It was almost the end of the day and he was nowhere near done with everything he needed to do. He rubbed his forehead, feeling how sweaty and warm he felt. “Have they turned the heat up or something?”

Surveying him from a distance, Joel’s colleague felt confident in her diagnosis. “I think you’re coming down with something,” she declared, before insisting that he went home a little early.

Although Joel remembered agreeing to leave work, it was gone eight in the evening before he found himself finally getting into his apartment. He felt so hungry, deciding that he was going to grab something and then head straight to bed in order to shake off whatever this strange funk was.

Joel was woken by a knock at his door. He looked around, seeing he’d drifted off on his couch and he slowly got himself up. He brushed his hand through his hair, still feeling that he had a temperature. He almost forgot what he was getting up for, until he heard the knock again; louder and more impatient.

“Hey there!” smiled Freya, leaning seductively against the doorframe. “Did I interrupt a workout?” she teased, seeming to appreciate the sweaty sheen on him and the way Joel’s t-shirt was clinging to his toned chest.

Joel knew what Freya wanted. She only ever came round when she was bored and horny. Then, most of the time, being the gentleman that he was, joel would sort her out and have some fun along the way. As occasional fuck-buddies went, Freya was a smoking hot choice. Her hand slipped onto his shoulders and they began smooching right there on the doorstep.

Freya must have peeked during their kiss, for she pulled out of the kiss suddenly. “Jeez, Joel! Your apartment is a mess!” she laughed. “I’ve never seen it like this!”

Joel knew he hadn’t hoovered since last weekend and he shrugged, not wanting to turn around and look when he was holding Freya’s beautiful hips in his hands. “Shall we go straight to the bedroom then?” he asked.

Freya smiled back at him, glad that their foreplay time was getting shorter and shorter these days. They both had an itch to scratch, so why waste time?

Twenty minutes later, Joel had never felt more embarrassed in his life as he came out of his bedroom, trying to convince Freya to stay a little longer. He’d never had these issues before. He was young, fit and very accomplished in the bedroom. These sorts of things didn’t happen to guys like him.

Freya didn’t seem to have any patience and actually seemed deeply offended. No matter what she had done, where she had put Joel’s dick, or how much effort she put in, Joel just wasn’t getting hard with her. “Maybe we could try again tomorrow?” Joel asked, keen not to lose his occasional bed companion, or for her to spread the word that he hadn’t been able to get it up. But Freya was not stopping for a chat. She’d made her frustration quite plain in the bedroom and, within a moment, Joel found himself alone, looking down at his dick, wondering what the hell had just happened. Whatever lurgy he was suffering from today, he wasn’t feeling at all himself.

“Joel? Where are you, buddy? It’s gone 9am.”

Joel shook his head and tried to make sense of why his boss was calling him. He looked across at the clock on the wall. It was twenty past nine, but he had no idea whether that was morning or night. It certainly couldn’t be Monday morning, surely?

Sensing his grogginess, Joel’s boss blundered on, filling the silent void where Joel was still trying to think of what to say. “Angela said you looked like you were coming down with the flu on Friday before you left? I’m guessing you haven’t had much of a weekend?”

“No,” Joel replied, rubbing his sweaty face, finally ready to believe that he was actually late for work. “I’ve been pretty spaced out. I don’t know what’s wrong. It’s like some sort of fever. I didn’t even realise it was Monday already.”

“Joel, it’s absolutely fine,” his boss replied; her voice full of understanding and concern. “Five years you’ve worked here and never taken a sick day. I was starting to think you were super-human or something. Please look after yourself, go see a doctor and give me a call when you think you’ll be ready to come back in.”

“Thanks,” Joel mumbled, already losing track of what his boss was saying: too much information all in one go.

“When you come back, I’ll want to talk to you about your application for the transfer too,” she went on. “You were by far the strongest candidate with your personal statement. Even Sarah failed to sell herself on her application form. I’ll be sorry to see you go.”

“You mean, I got it?” Joel asked, suddenly brought back to life by the news.

“We’ll talk about it when you’re feeling better,” his boss chuckled. “But, yes. Well done, Joel. You did it!”

After putting the phone down, Joel felt a burst of energy and clarity that he hadn’t experienced in some time. He’d got the job! Even Sarah hadn’t been able to outdo him this time!

But then Joel’s smile faded. He began to think back to the week before, when he had slipped out part of Sarah’s application and kept it. He’d got the job by cheating; he knew that. And if no one had noticed before the midday deadline last Friday, her application would have been seriously weakened. But, he’d cheated, Joel’s mind kept on reminding him, and Sarah had suffered for it. He remembered the weird thwack he’d felt on his butt that lunchtime, bringing back that awful memory of the night he, Harry and Danny had been caught in the old lady’s garden, back in college. That was the last time he’d experienced pain like that before. He’d cheated, his mind repeated. Like a selfish pig.

Joel felt his heart sink like an anchor plunging into icy seawater; yet it began beating faster than he had ever felt it before. He shifted from this way to that, not knowing where to go. He eventually found himself in the bathroom, feeling the sudden urge to pour cold water over his face to try and keep his mind focused. It was the first time he’d noticed that he was still naked after getting frisky with Freya. Had that been Friday night? Saturday? Time had gotten away from him. Then, in the reflection, he saw it for the first time. The masking of his abs with a budding layer of fat. It had surreptiously built, thickening his waistline as Joel twisted to see if what he was actually seeing was true. He looked like he’d gained twenty pounds in a single weekend. “No, no, no, no!” he panicked, twisting further to see his small, tight buns also looking thicker and beefier. Then he pushed his face into the mirror, observing the start of a small chin under his handsome jawline. “No! Fuck!” he shouted at the top of his lungs. It was all so unfair! This was all happening because of fucking Sarah? Where the fuck was the justice in that?

Joel needed to do something. He could explain! He probably still had Sarah’s personal statement scrunched up in his pocket somewhere. He could take it to his boss and confess to what he had done. It didn’t have to be too late!

But just as soon as this thought came to him, Joel suddenly felt a sharp pain attacking his stomach. With his fingers, he gripped the edges of the sink and lowered his head, growling with discomfort. It almost seemed like his insides were being rearranged, his stomach tying itself in knots. Joel tried to push against the unpleasantness, to squeeze it back from wherever it came from. But there was a feeling, like something trying to creep its way up his throat. He opened his eyes and looked at his reflection in the mirror to see what it was as he couldn’t hold onto it anymore. “Oink, oink!” he heard himself snort. The feeling of relief was instantaneous. “Oink, oink!” he cried again, not fighting the urge this time; the pressure in his stomach decreasing dramatically.

Within a few more seconds, the episode seemed to be over. He gazed at his body once more, surprised to see that his little paunch had appeared to gain a few more pounds again. He was getting love handles, curving out to the sides! Yet, there it was: the erection that had so evaded him during his evening with Freya. Pumped full of blood, it tingled with wild sexual energy, like he had never felt before. His train of thought lost, Joel put his hand to it and fell even further.

Joel couldn’t remember going out for supplies, but he cringed as he saw how he had dressed himself. Having planned to go to the gym on Saturday morning, his tight shorts, fitted sleeveless t-shirt and trainers were the only things he had left out for himself. Now they all seemed to fit horrifyingly badly. In the last couple of days, his stomach had been swelling up, becoming like a small tire around his waist. He’d developed love handles like he’d never seen before, soft and doughy to the touch, whilst his belly button had seemed to deepen with each passing hour. He gazed in horror at himself, seeing how he had the appearance of a man who had no comprehension of how dreadful he looked; his fleshy stomach peeking out below his t-shirt, his underwear and shorts not quite large enough to cover his rear; a sweaty ass crack on display for all to see. Had he bumped into someone he knew as well? He couldn’t quite remember properly. All his memories seemed shrouded in a fog. He’d offended someone. There had been shouting. Now there was cake, or chocolate sauce, or something along those lines, all smeared around his face.

How long had it been since the curse had activated? All sense of time was lost and Joel seemed incapable of remaining level-headed for more than a few minutes at a time. He now understood why Harry had been behaving in the way that he had. He couldn’t imagine the mental effort it must have taken for him to recite his wedding vows after this had all started.

But what about Danny? How had he done it? He may not have been anything like the guy Joel remembered, but he didn’t seem to have the same difficulties with staying lucid. He even had a job! Was that because he wasn’t trying to fight it anymore?

As he thought, Joel suddenly realised his hand was in his pants, tugging at his dick; his other hand sliding across the fresh fat in his middle. He growled angrily in frustration that he barely seemed able to do anything for more than two minutes before he was gorging himself on something, or trying to pleasure his body in other ways. He needed to work past this stage and quickly. He needed his mind back and to end the mental exertion of fighting this.

“I’m giving into this curse. I surrender,” Joel told himself in the mirror, looking straight into his own eyes as if speaking to the curse within. “You win!” he told it. “I’m a…” he hesitated, finding it hard to say the word. “I’m a pig!”

Afterwards, Joel couldn’t remember a thing. He seemed to have skipped days and days. He looked at his body, all bloated with pounds and pounds of even more fat. He’d developed a gut, fleshier nipples and a rounded double chin. His ass appeared to have doubled in width; his thighs fleshy but strong. There wouldn’t be a thing in his whole apartment that would conver his body now and yet, there were larger pants and t-shirts waiting in parcels that he didn’t remember ordering.

Joel pinched and grabbed at the flesh, feeling his hardness throbbing as he did so. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he knew he didn’t need to worry about work anymore and there was a nagging feeling that he would have to leave his apartment soon. Had something happened? He chuckled at the vague memories that passed through his mind. He would need to find somewhere else to go…

“Well, well, well!” Danny sniggered as Joel let himself into the house near their old college campus. “What have we here?” he chirped, standing up and admiring the changed form of Joel.

It had taken so much training for Joel to handle the long journey up here, but he’d managed it at long last. His mind had needed sharpening, his attention span building up once more. He’d spent hours choosing to be on all fours, gorging himself in order to support the transition. He had stuffed himself beyond feeling full and masturbated more times than he ever had as a teenager. But it had all been for the best. He felt, for the most part, alert once again; remembering most, if not all, of his days. He matched Danny’s stare and held it confidently, letting the guy know that he wasn’t about to be pushed around by him again. He grinned, snorting like a pig and then watched as Danny lost a little of his own composure, leaning forwards slightly and echoing the sounds, whether he meant to or not.

“Where’s the othe pig?” Joel asked; his dick hard and excited to see the transformation. Already he was kicking off his shoes and removing his shirt, letting Danny know that he was here to stay.

“Upstairs, sleeping,” Danny reluctantly replied. “He’s still pushing against it. At least, some part of him is,” he explained. “Jeez! Fuck, Joel! You got fat!” he then suddenly excliamed, seeing Joel’s enormous gut and sounding rather jealous.

“I triggered the curse three months ago,” Joel smirked, tapping his large gut and enjoying the wobble of the softest underside of it.

“Like fuck you only triggered the curse three months ago,” Danny shot back. “Bullshit! Even Harry isn’t as big as you yet.”

“Well that will need to change, won’t it?” Joel laughed with pride. “That old lady had cursed three fat pigs; not two. He’s going to have to catch up now I’m back here. He can’t keep fighting against this forever.”

Joel deliberately sat himself down in Danny’s chair, resting his large butt and sighing in appreciation of being off his feet. Danny, the former quarterback may have been the biggest now, but he wouldn’t always hold that title; Joel knew that with absolute certainty.

“What do you think you can do to get Harry fattening faster than I have?” Danny grunted, seeming put out by the insinuation that he hadn’t been doing a good enough job with their mutual friend.

“You’ll soon see,” Joel smiled, rubbing his large gut and feeling it expand with the confidence he felt in embracing his new personality. What a life this would be; living here, rent-free, with two other fat guys. He jiggled his gut to catch Danny’s attention, knowing that he’d have sex on tap with both of the horny pigs that lived here. Then, just like that, the enormous man came striding over to rub and caress Joel’s gut, as if it was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. Even with all his bravado, Danny was a slave to the fat, every bit as much as Joel was.

“Where’s good for pizza around here?” Joel asked. He put his sweaty feet up on the table knocking over everything that had been left on there. Then he spread his legs as Danny slipped his hands into Joel’s sweatpants and began tugging him off. “I’m absolutely starving!”

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galleryyuhself · 1 year

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G A L L E R Y Y U H S E L F

STAG’s FIFA World Cup advertising for 2022

#galleryyuhself/STAG beer #galleryyuhself/World Cup 2022 #galleryyuhself/advertising #sport #entertainment #FIFA World Cup 2022 #Stag Beer #tumblr/FIFA World Cup 2022 #tumblr/Stag beer #alcohol

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stone-cold-groove · 8 months

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Scenes from home, past and present.

#old new orleans #the westbank #jeffererson parish #new orleans area bars #bars #bar & lounge #lounges #dixie beer #dixie 45 beer #jax beer #hi roller stag bar #stag bars

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ariadnethedragon · 4 months

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HOFAS thoughts as I read it: (SPOILERS below)

All that t*rture in the dungeons, Ruhn’s piercing and tattoos. Baxian’s tattoo. The wings. “How strong is your bite?” Sarahhhhh!!!!! Stop! That was more than I could handle😫

The Middengard Wyrm😖. Nesta dealt with it brilliantly but it just makes you appreciate how impossible it was that human Feyre managed to kill this thing by herself with no decent weapons.

Azriel hugging Nesta and stroking her hair after she took the Mask off🥺

Bryce’s wallpaper being Hunt and the photo of her friends in the phone case—that made me tear up

Imagining the inner circle all surrounding Bryce’s phone trying to figure out how it works is hilarious. Also Nesta being jealous of Bryce’s music collection, “THOUSAND?”

The nightbright angst KILLED me💔💔💔

Hunt just dreaming of Bryce. She’s the only thing pulling him through, “He’d wanted so many things with her. A normal, happy life. Children.” HE BETTER GET EVERY SINGLE ONE IF THOSE THINGS OR HANDS WILL BE THROWN!

Silene. The Daglan. My theories were true😁😁

Sigrid. I had so much hope for her story but I was disappointed. Hopefully it’ll get better

Ariadne!! I wanted to see more of her😕

Ruhn’s bedroom. The burn cream😭😭😭

Lidia FUCKING Cervos. That breakout scene. Magnificent.

Jesiba and Ithan’s dynamic. Librarian Ithan and the fact that Jesiba is a Parthos priestess!!! Also JellyJubilee being the computer password😂

Bryce using the mating bond to teleport to Hunt😭😭😭

Bran and Ace. Lidia giving them her ruby ring for tuition as a goodbye💔

Hunt and Bryce got married?!!! WHEN?

Cloudberry crown sounds funny idk why

If I had a penny every time SJM included a set of unhinged/partly unhinged fae twins (yes connall I’m looking at you) in her series, I’d have three pennies bc it happens every single time

So the astronomer is basically a Voldemort 2.0

Flynn and dec going crazy for waffles on the mer ship

“I never had anyone fight for me” Oh Lidia my love😭😭

Guess I’m shipping Tharion and Sathia now🤷‍♀️

Lidia being turned on by Ruhn lighting a fire—girl, I get it.

“Because I’m yours, Day. I’m fucking yours.” Screaming crying throwing up

Lidia: “I want you all the time”😭😭😭😭😭😭😩😩😩😩💗💗💗

Idk why but I am disappointed in the Autumn King, I thought there would be some redemption for him for some reason

Ruhn: “I am going to live and I am going to live well without you”😭😭

Bryce was always a queen but now she a queen Queen👀

Avallen becoming all green again.

Hunt being a demonic test tube baby😂😂

Dec being the first to look for service. Typical😂

Ithan x Perry???? Cinnamon and strawberry? I start getting suspicious when they notice all the nuances of that person’s scent. I think they’d be cute though

Nooooo, the prime—I keep thinking of him as master oogway from king fu panda and it makes me sad

Sabines finally dead🥳🥳

Ithan is prime now? Okay okay pop offf!!

Hunt finally breaking free of his halo and freeing Isaiah as well❤️

Is the under king from the ToG universe??? Valg??

Connor💔💔💔😭😭😭 The bullet. Memento mori

Sathia and Colin McCarthy. This will be interesting

Commando Hunt. The underwear was too small🤭🫨🫨

Morven guest room having red lace thongs😂😂

Okay tharion and sathia are really growing on me🥰🥰🥰

‘She’s my mate you fucker’ SCREAAMMING

Ace finally calling Lidia Mom😭❤️

Lidia is the descendant of Brannon. The fire, the hind/sacred stag. OH MY GOODNESS!!!!!

Pollux being incinerated☺️☺️☺️

The sprites and Irithys💗

The kill switch, the godslayer rifle. Bryce just blackholing the Asteri. She is so brilliant and cunning and clever and I love her.

Danika and the pack. Light it up Bryce. I SOBBED

Jesiba crying and then her sacrifice😭😭😭💔💔

Ember and Randal going to Prythian. Randal bonding with Rhys but more importantly Ember and Nesta—I want to cryyyy🥹🥹🥹

Starsword/Gwydion back in Prythian…whats going to happen in ACOTAR 5???

The princes of Hel—you gotta love em

Lidia and Ruhn finally having that beer

Flynn x Perry? Jealous Ithan😏

Syrinx running for his life when Hunt and Bryce share a heated look. It’s nothing new but it cracks me up all the time

Pegasuses in Avallen🥰🥰

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pockeymcmockey · 2 years

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𝔄𝔫 𝔈𝔶𝔢 𝔉𝔬𝔯 𝔄𝔫 𝔈𝔶𝔢 | 𝓐𝓮𝓶𝓸𝓷𝓭 𝓣𝓪𝓻𝓰𝓪𝓻𝔂𝓮𝓷

Summary: Aemond finds himself at a crossroads, get revenge and risk his relationship or forgive Lucerys and marry the Princess...

Warnings: HEAVY angst, swearing, men with no decorum, character death (major and minor), violence, Aemond is a selfish ass, Reader regrets things.

Author's Note: This fic needs more angst so here ya go!

𝔓𝔯𝔢𝔳𝔦𝔬𝔲𝔰 𝔓𝔞𝔯𝔱 | 𝔓𝔞𝔯𝔱 ℑℑℑ | 𝔑𝔢𝔵𝔱 𝔓𝔞𝔯𝔱

Princess [Name] Targaryen sat by her windowsill, a leg perched upon the ledge and her elbow resting on her knee awaiting the raven she called for after learning about her mother's miscarriage. She sent the raven off to the Red Keep with the parchment to be given to Prince Aemond. She wiped her tears and watched until the raven was out of sight before undressing out of her nightgown and into her training garbs.

When Aemond received the message from his betrothed's raven and read the ink written on the page, he felt a deep sinking in his stomach. The loss of a King, the gain of a new one, and now the loss of a babe was too much for the Kingdom and the family. Aemond wrote back, pleading to the princess to return to the Red Keep to marry him sooner rather than later but alas, when her reply was to stay in Dragonstone and comfort her mother, he couldn't say he wasn't disappointed.

Aemond prepared Vhagar for travel after dressing himself in black leather and a trenchcoat as Storm's End can be rather tempestuous. Vhagar pulled her claws from the soil of King's Landing and took off toward the Baratheon territory. The beast known as Vhagar oscillated throughout the inclement weather that was Storm's End. When the Targaryen prince and his dragon arrived to the Baratheon household, the guards kept their distance, greeting him only when they were out of Vhagar's vicinity.

The one-eyed prince gave a curt nod to the Lord seated before him, Borros returning that nod. Aemond spoke of his mother's offer to bind the two houses together, to fight to keep the rightful King on the Iron Throne. Of course, Aemond expected the Lord Baratheon to want something, so in return, Aemond offered to gift them a dragon egg. The gift of a dragon egg was not to be taken lightly, Aemond knew this, but his words were empty promises. He found a dud lying around in a nest last evening and thought it helpful to strengthen the treaty.

Borros thought his offer over. A Baratheon with a dragon has never been seen and it would bring new fear to those who crossed a Baratheon—of course, he wouldn't actually be getting one but only Aemond knew that. Borros accepted but before Aemond could take his leave, the grand doors opened to reveal the woman he's missed since their departure. And her brother. As the two children of Rhaenyra walked elegantly through the heavy doors, Aemond and [Name] made eye contact.

The pupil in her unscarred eye dilated, black almost filling her iris. She lopsidedly smiled at him, still unsettled about going against her forbidden love. Aemond stood monotonously in the shadows, observing his betrothed and Lucerys, the bane of his existence. The boy who caused all his problems spoke up, handing a Baratheon maester the parchment that held Rhaenyra's words. Borros skimmed through the letter and scoffed, mocking their mother. Lucerys reached for his sword but his older sister outstretched an arm in front of him, shaking her head at him.

"You come to my castle, asking for my army, and without a gift or payment? Am I a jest to you Targaryens?" Lord Borros shooed his maester away and tapped his nubbed fingers against the stone of his chair. "You, boy! Which one of my daughters will you marry?" Lucerys informed the Lord that he was unavailable, being already betrothed to his cousin. The Lord of the Stag cackled wildly, beer gut jutting out, almost popping the buttons of his dress shirt.

"Excuse me if I cause any offense to you, my Lord, but were your ancestors not sworn to the crown? To the Iron Throne, whom my mother should be sitting on, yet you allow a usurper to sit his fat arse on it?" [Name] asked nonchalantly, leaning on her sword, Blood Brother, a stance her father has taken many times. Now that Aemond looks at her, he sees a lot of her father inside of her. Her violet eyes too dark to match Rhaenyra's. Her tongue too sharp for her mother's taste, but not for Daemon's.

The Lord stood from his stone throne, hobbling over to the young woman stood before him. He fisted her thin blouse and touched nose to nose, his breath smelling of grape wine. "Want to say those words again, cunt?" Aemond was about to step in when [Name] smirked, her eyes cast down lazily before shaking her head, apologizing for her harsh words. "Watch your tongue, whore." Aemond's grip on his dagger kept him grounded, keeping him from lashing out on the Lord and ruining their treaty.

"I see we're not welcome here, as we have nothing to offer but our respect. We'll see ourselves out." The Princess escorted her and her brother to the door, at the half-way mark when Aemond halted them. The Prince could not look into the eyes of his woman, knowing what he says next could ruin what they had but it must be done. For if he does not have his revenge, he fears he may wallow in it and not give his betrothed the attention she's always deserved.

"Your eye, Lord Strong. As payment for mine." The one-eyed prince tossed his dagger Lucerys' way, allowing the younger prince to take his own eye. "A gift for my mother. An eye for an eye, after all." Aemond smirked, removing his eyepatch to show his sapphire replacement. The older of the three, the Princess, grabbed her younger brother's hand, pulling him behind her.

"Haven't you taken enough from my family, my Prince?" [Name] spat venomously at the man whose proposal she accepted, regretting making her decision so desperately. Aemond's smirk fell and his eye glossed over, the sapphire glistening from what little light the castle let in. "We'll be on our way now." The Princess insisted, turning away from the man with a jewel for an eye. Said man did not appreciate the rejection very much, storming over and snatching his dagger from the cobble floor beneath them.

"Give me your eye!" Aemond screamed, scolded by Lord Borros who appreciated if less blood was shed in his castle. [Name]'s glare hardened like rock, pushing her brother out the large doors and to his dragon, Arrax. When the two of them reached the courtyard of Storm's End, the eldest of the two noticed the beast Aemond rode had vanished. How had he left so quickly? She asked herself.

"Come, sister, Mother's expecting us back!" Lucerys shouted over the looming wind, whistling in every direction. [Name] nodded and hopped on the back of Llanerion and flew off, back to Dragonstone to send word to her mother that Lord Baratheon would not be joining her bannermen. During their flight, Lucerys had an erie feeling, one that they were being watched, hunted almost. His intuition was correct as the gnarly jaws of Vhagar invaded their path.

"Lucerys!" [Name] shouted with concern, listening to the echoes of Aemond's laughter. She chased after them, soaring beside Vhagar and calling out to Aemond. "My Prince, please! Enough! He's but a child!" Alas, her attempts proved futile as Aemond did not give and continued his chase. Lucerys curved through archways and trenches before losing Vhagar, then they came upon clear skies and the sun cascading over them like a blanket of fire.

The two let the sun distract them for too long as the teeth of Vhagar pierced Arrax and Lucerys in the process. [Name] cried for her brother, alerting Vhagar of another prey left alive. The Princess pulled at Llanerion's reigns, forcing him to dive forward and to avoid the clutches of the largest dragon in Westeros. Her actions were unavailing when Vhagar ripped a wing right off of Llanerion, his balance lost and Princess [Name] as well.

Aemond's eye widened with horror, his soon-to-be wife diving into the sea below. The Prince used all his might to gain control of Vhagar once more, the mossy beast listening and diving downward. His rescue seemed fruitless when the body of his lover was engulfed by the salt of the sea. Aemond showed perseverance and jumped off the back of his beast, swimming below surface level and encircling the waist of his betrothed, pulling her ashore.

Her lungs were filled with salty liquid and Aemond did what he knew best with her, he kissed her. He brought air back into her lungs as she coughed up the salt, a bitter taste on her tongue and her throat feeling the dryest its ever been. Aemond smoothed back the Princess' white locks and kissed her head, holding her closely. The woman held tightly onto the leather of her husband-to-be, grasping to feel any warmth she could get.

For a moment, [Name] just wanted to forget. Forget about the rivalry, forget about her title and duties, and forget about her brother. But unfortunately, she remembered everything. The Princess pushed Aemond away, standing upright and walking toward where sand met grass. The Prince confusingly followed, clutching her elbow and turning her to face him. When her body was directed toward him, she sent her palm to his cheek, a handprint marking the soaked skin.

She's angry, Aemond realized. About her brother, about everything. The one-eyed prince persisted in getting her to talk to him, say something, anything. Yell at him, push him away again, but she only stared at him. Her lips turning blue and her body trembling. Then, she finally spoke, words filled with poison and said out of spite:

"I hate you..."

Taglist

@daddysfavoritesexkitten @dudfahsn @hey-airam @motherofdragons1998 @kittykylax @icarusignite @lilithskywalker @mintyard @omgsuperstarg @pinkybee926 @helloitsshitzulover @bobamai1 @applepyesworld @chrisevansgirlfriendsposts @caspianobsessed @sonnensplitter @sqrlgrl22 @solorubyjane @amethystwonders11 @marytvirgin @aphroditeisamilf @ephemeralninon @fairyunhappy @mikasakuchiki @shine101 @let-love-bleeds-red @zgzgzh @lilostif16 @landlockedmermaid77 @m1ndbrand @grippleback-galaxy @jeyramarie @gaemon-palehair @padfooteyes @bietchz @moiraiofheroes @stargaryenx @cypherpt5fttaehyung

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romione-trope-fest · 2 months

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The Girl From The Bar

Title: The Girl From The Bar

Author: Be11atrixthestrange

Trope: Muggle AU

Summary: While studying at a coffee shop, Ron spots a missed connection from years ago.

Word Count: 2015

Rating: M

—

-Four Years Ago-

The Leaky Canteen was a total dive. As much as the Weasleys wanted it to be a high-end establishment, it simply wasn’t, and it would never be. Grime and dirt lived on the floor permanently, no matter how hard Ron scrubbed and mopped at bar close. The upholstery on the booth benches ripped and frayed, revealing the discolored foam underneath, the paint peeled from the walls, and there was a permanent smoky stench that permeated the air, even though there were strict rules against smoking indoors.

That aside, the bar managed to remain a hot spot on Friday and Saturday nights. Maybe it was the centralized location, the event calendar that was always too packed to staff appropriately, or the fact that they offered half-priced cocktails to all hen and stag parties. Scratch that, it was definitely the half-priced drinks. That was the reason that it was always bursting with loud, messy, disrespectful patrons, yet still struggled to profit enough each month to pay the lease.

“Another Gold Rush please!”

Ron glanced over his shoulder to see a blonde girl, probably mid-twenties, leaning against the bar. The bartop, which was still wet with a combination of beer, vodka, and water, left a dark mark across her dress, but she didn’t seem to notice. One hand held an empty cocktail glass, while the other clutched the countertop for stability as she teetered to the side.

“You doing okay?” Ron threw his dish towel over his shoulder and propped his elbows onto the bar to look her in the eye. As he had predicted, her pupils were as wide as saucers.

“Sogood,” she slurred, flashing him a smile. “Havingsomuchfun.”

“Gotcha,” said Ron, rising to his feet. “One Gold Rush, coming up.”

He reached for a coupe glass and a boston shaker, and filled the shaker with lemon juice, orange juice, and honey syrup. He eyed the bourbon whiskey, which the cocktail would normally call for, but instead traveled to the refrigerator, where a small container of chopped jalapenos was waiting. He used a pair of tongs to plop one into the shaker, and a muddler to smash it up.

A bit of ice and a few shakes later, the blonde was happily shuffling back to the dance floor, her drink dripping down her hand.

While rinsing the shaker, Ron half watched the flock of girls clad in feather boas and sparkly dresses laughing and bouncing in the middle of the bar. It wasn’t technically a dance floor as the Canteen wasn’t a nightclub, but the weekend crew didn’t seem to notice or care that there wasn’t an official DJ. In fact, Ron was just playing a random Spotify playlist, complete with the internet’s favorite early 2000’s dance hits. He didn’t even pay for the premium subscription, and the crowd was too drunk to notice they were dancing to car insurance advertisements between songs.

“Interesting choice with the jalapeno.”

Ron looked toward the voice to see another girl sitting at the other end of the bar. Her phone was lying on a towel on the counter, screen up, as she scrolled with one hand.

“Shit, didn’t see you there.”

The girl laughed. Ron took in her appearance. Like the other girls on the dance floor, she was wearing a sparkly dress, but the way she tensed up underneath the fabric suggested she’d be more comfortable in a pair of jeans. Her long brown hair formed tight curls that landed halfway down her back. Her makeup was simple and natural, and her deep brown eyes looked like he could get lost in them. She was beautiful, in an effortless, understated way.

“When you’re completely smashed, it’s hard to tell the difference between the kick of a jalapeno and the bitterness of bourbon.”

“Ahh.”

“And she was completely smashed.”

The girl nodded. “I agree. I was actually coming over to suggest she drink water for the rest of the night, but it looks like you were on it.”

Ron smiled. “Part of the job.”

The girl turned back to her phone, and Ron felt a flash of disappointment. He frequently craved sober conversation during his long weekend shifts, and the fact that she was beautiful was a plus.

“So, how’s the hen party?”

She glanced up. “It’s fine. I was actually about to head out soon. We’ve been partying since noon.”

Ron snuck a peek at her phone and recognized the uber app. “They’ll miss you if you leave.”

She laughed. “No they won’t.”

“I take it you’re friends with the bride?” asked Ron.

“Hannah? She’s my roommate.”

“But not your friend?”

The girl shrugged. “Well, both. Since she got engaged I don’t see much of her, to be frank.”

So, she’s single. “I know how you feel. Well, sort of.”

The girl raised an eyebrow.

“My roommate just proposed to my sister. But now I see too much of them.”

She smiled. “That must be awkward.”

“A little. Part of the reason I take Saturday night shifts so often.”

The girl looked back at her phone, and Ron’s stomach sank, willing her to keep talking. He felt his palms sweat when she closed out her phone, plopped it into her pocket, and looked back up at him. “Rideshare surcharges are insane right now.”

“It happens,” said Ron, trying to sound casual, and not overly excited. “Probably best to wait on the uber.”

“You’re probably right.”

“So, can I make you a drink?” he offered.

Her face brightened. “I’ll try that jalapeno one that you made for Hannah.”

“Coming right up.”

Ron disappeared behind the back door to gather his ingredients, and hoped he had managed to hide the blush creeping up his neck. There was a lightness in his movements that he hadn’t felt in a very long time, and he formed a genuine smile at the thought of spending more time with this girl.

Frankly, things weren’t going so well in the relationship category as of late. He and Lavender had broken up just a few weeks ago, and she was still in the process of moving out of Grimmauld place. They were only living there temporarily while they searched for their own apartment together, much to Harry’s annoyance. They had been looking for the perfect flat for months, and finally found one close enough to school and work that miraculously fell within their budget. But the day before they were supposed to sign the lease, she left him.

He honestly didn’t know why, but he assumed she had met someone else. All the talk about it being too big of a step, and her not feeling comfortable living together felt like reasons to postpone apartment-hunting rather than end the relationship entirely. But what was he going to do, beg her to stay? He didn’t want to be with someone who didn’t want him.

But it didn’t make it hurt any less.

Now Lavender would get to live in that big apartment by herself, and Ron would still be stuck at Grimmauld Place with Harry. As if to rub salt in the wound, Harry proposed to his sister a few days later Now he found himself third wheeling with the star crossed lovers almost every weekend since then, which only served to remind him how single he suddenly was.

That was the reason he had taken so many Saturday shifts at The Canteen.

Fred and George insisted he needed a rebound, and working at the bar was the perfect way to do that. Ron disagreed. He wasn’t one to take a random stranger home with the intention of using her to forget about someone else. He just wanted a distraction. Someone to talk to.

The non alcoholic Gold Rush nearly made itself as Ron got lost in his thoughts. He garnished the edge of the glass with an orange slice sandwiched between two jalapenos. An added touch for the girl at the bar.

“Voila,” he said as he emerged from the back. “A gold rush for the lady.”

“Why thank you very much.” She carefully pinched the stem of the glass and took a tentative sip. “Wow. It does taste alcoholic.”

“And I promise you it’s not.”

“Well done, sir. Compliments to the chef.”

Ron felt his cheeks turn pink. “Thank you.”

“I like the garnish.” The girl pulled a jalapeno slice from the edge of the glass and plopped it into her mouth. Her eyes watered under the heat of the spice, but at the same time, she gave a satisfied smile.

“It’s all about presentation.”

She smiled and extended her arm toward him. “I’m Hermione, by the way.”

Ron wiped his hand on the dish towel that was still hanging around his shoulders, and shook hers. “I’m Ron.”

“Nice to meet you, Ron.”

-Present Day-

Saturday mornings were usually busy at Flourish and Pots, the coffeehouse and bookstore where Ron practically lived at the moment, but he didn’t mind. The commotion helped him focus, while also providing a distraction from his tedious economics textbooks when he needed one. The cafe’s close proximity to the airport meant it was frequently visited by tourists and provided the perfect people watching opportunity. And the fact that it was far away from the Leaky Canteen was a plus. No family members would crash his study sessions and insist on burdening him with administrative work that no one else knew how to do.

His intention behind obtaining his business degree wasn’t necessarily to fix the family bar or turn it into a profit machine, but to hopefully run a better business in the future. Something completely unrelated. But his family didn’t quite understand that.

Ron reached for his latte and brought it to his lips. He hated to disturb the intricate leaf pattern the barista had formed with the foam, but his second year of graduate school required sufficient caffeine, and his admiration for latte-art would have to come later.

As he put this mug down, a flash of red caught his eye. A young girl, no older than three had plopped down into an armchair that was way too big for her. Based on her hair alone, she could have been one of Ron’s nieces or nephews, and if Ron wasn’t absolutely sure she was a new face, he’d be looking for Bill or Percy in the bookstore.

Where are your parents, little girl?

The girl picked up a newspaper from the side table and opened it. The fact that it was upside down made him smile. Her red hair frizzed out at all angles, and her eyebrows furrowed at the newspaper in a way that was strangely familiar.

“Rose?” came a frantic whisper from across the room. “Rosie, where did you go?”

The voice lingered in Ron’s mind like a once-forgotten song. He’d heard that voice before.

“Rosie, there you are!”

A woman came sprinting around the corner and breathed a heavy sigh of relief upon finding the little girl.

“Mama!” Rosie popped out of the chair and wrapped her arms around her mother’s leg. The newspaper glided gently to the floor as if falling in slow motion.

“You scared me! Don’t run away from me again.” The woman picked up the newspaper, folded it back up and set it on the side table. “Ready to go sweetheart?”

The little girl nodded and reached for her mother’s hand. The pair turned toward the entrance of the shop and Ron’s stomach felt like it turned to stone as he watched them walk away.

He didn’t even need to see the woman’s face. Her voice, her hair, the way her hips swayed as she walked away. It was all too familiar. That was the girl from the bar.

Holy shit. Ron’s whole body immediately tingled, and his heart pounded like a bird trying to escape his chest. He felt like he was observing himself from outside the room. How long ago was that? Three, four years? Give or take a few months?

Ron lifted a hand from his textbook to find that his palm had stuck to the page, leaving a sweaty handprint behind. He reached for his latte and took a sip, but his hand trembled so much that he nearly spilled it. The timeline matched. And Rosie’s flaming red hair was unmistakable. Unless the girl from the bar shagged one of his brothers too. Or maybe she just had a thing for gingers?

Who was he kidding? So much had happened in his life since that encounter, and maybe he didn’t even know the half of it.

But, fuck, he had to find out.

#submission #romione #muggle AU #romione muggle au

41 notes · View notes

shyvioletcat · 10 months

Text

Oh hi! Yes, This is something a little new and different, especially for @sjmcrackshipmonth. For Pirate Day my wonderful friend @sassyhobbits and I came up with a little idea, she came up with this wonderful artwork and I wrote a fic and we had so much fun. So, without further rabbling here is my first official Aelin x Fenrys work.

CW: it’s smutty, like really smutty. Secondhand embarrassment

FIND THE ACCOMPANYING ARTWORK HERE.

~~~~~

People told Aelin she was mad for running a tavern in a pirate port, and at times she would have to admit that they were right. Brawls were common, there had been damage to the ceilings from more gunshots than she could count, when things truly got out of hand there was an occasional stabbing. Aelin had threatened carousers here and there herself down the barrel of the pistol she kept stowed away in a dark corner of the counter. But for all its trouble the White Stag thrived under her charge. She could never be idle and a tavern in a pirate port like this was a lucrative business. And it wasn’t like she was without protection.

Rhoe Galathynius was the most prominent merchant in Orynth, which made him a veritable king amongst men. Coin was the power in these waters, and their city on the river thrived under his watchful eye and scheming. So the fancy, looping gold lettering of her family name under the wood carved sign of the rearing white stag hanging above her door let patrons know who they were dealing with. It was an assurance for both her and her customers that serious misdeeds would be met with severe punishment, and that kept people coming to her fine establishment night after night.

Tonight was busy, patrons filling nearly every space they could. It was good for business but it was running Aelin off her feet. Usually she was content to watch from the landing above the main floor or slip through the crowd mingling, leaving the bartending to those she hired. But tonight with a barmaid ill that’s where Aelin found herself—pouring pint after pint, the pockets of her skirts full of coin. The gossip was that a few ships had docked over the past few days, bringing an influx of commerce and bodies to the city. Aelin hadn’t caught the names of the ships, but from the energy the city hummed they must have been successful with their seaborn endeavours.

“Lass, two more!” A man weathered by wind and salt called to her. From the way he swayed he probably didn’t need another, let alone two, she would have to cut him off after this.

Aelin grabbed two tankards from below the bar and filled them with beer from the keg behind her. By the second the flow was slowing, a sure sign she’d need to send Ren down to the cellar for another. His main job was to provide muscle when things got out of hand as pirates and their affiliates tended to do. It was just convenient for her that his muscles were useful for other things as well. When she had a moment to breathe she’d have to track him down.

“All clean,” Luca said, setting down a clean crate of tankards. “And more to wash I see, my hands will be shrivelled as prunes by the end of the night.”

“My apologies, but I’ll be sure to compensate you accordingly,” Aelin took a handful of her green overskirt and shook it enough that the coins in her pocket jingled.

Luca’s eyes lit up as the crate of dirty tankards was set in front of him. “I’ll get these cleaned up right away.”

Aelin smiled then started unloading the clean drinkware that would be dirty again all too soon. She didn’t bother to make the arrangement look tidy, on a night like this no one would notice. Feeling sweat gather on her brow Aelin dotted it away with on her sleeve. It wasn’t a particularly hot night but with the amount of bodies in the tavern and how busy it was, her temperature wasn’t surprising. She was glad of the stray breezes that would brush over her shoulders, bare from the way her blouse draped off them.

“Spare a drink for a poor, weary sailor?”

The question came from behind her, smooth and sensuous, the words were nothing but a tempting caress over her skin. Aelin knew that voice and knew its full intent, even though it had been missing from her tavern for months. As pleased as she was to hear it she made sure her smile was hidden away as she turned around slowly, a hand on her hip conveying her feigned displeasure at being interrupted. This is how they would start the game, and if he played along they would both win.

“Fenrys Moonbeam, what brings your sorry arse into my tavern,” Aelin drawled.

Fenrys’ smile was pure taunt and flirtation. “The rum and the company of course.”

“So the rum takes precedence over the company then?” Aelin said, stepping up to be just a little closer.

“Ah, Princess,” Fenrys said, leaning his elbows on the counter that was still between them and not bothering to hide the appreciative sweep his eyes did over her. “You know what the truth of it is.”

Aelin couldn’t help it, she felt the corner of her lips tilt into a crooked smile. But she also wasn’t about to concede, “Do I, though? Nary a word all these long months, for all I knew you had found a more favourable port and run off with a prettier girl.”

“Prettier than you? I think I’d be hard pressed to find someone as lovely as you, Miss Galathynius,” Fenrys said.

“You’re flattering me for a free drink,” Aelin accused.

Fenrys tipped his head back and laughed. “Is it working?”

There was a thunk as the short glass hit wood, and then Aelin was pouring out a measure of her best rum. “Yes.”

Their fingers brushed as Fenrys took the glass and he downed it. While he was occupied Aelin took the opportunity to peruse over him. First she looked for any sign of injury, pirating had its many dangers but from what she could see there were no noticeable hurts. Fenrys looked good, he always did. His golden sunkissed curls were tied back from his face showing off the perpetual smile that seemed to grace his lips. The blue coat he wore was very dashing, with the cut of it accentuating the broadness of his shoulders. Ever the flaunter he’d chosen a white shirt that dipped low, the white of it contrasting the deep bronze of his skin made deeper from the hours he spent in the sun. He’d been gods’ blessed with handsomeness that could only be dreamed of, and an ego to match. Some found him insufferable, mainly those who lacked a sense of humour or any idea of fun. For Aelin, he was an utter delight.

She was called away before they could continue their conversation, but Fenrys didn’t go anywhere. He lingered at the bar, claiming a stool when one became available.

“The next one will cost you,” Aelin said, wiping down the counter so it looked like she had a reason to stop.

“Always such a hard businesswoman.” Fenrys didn’t protest and dropped two coins on the worn wood.

Aelin slid them off into her and then her pocket. “What will it be?”

“That sweet Perranth wine if you have it,” Fenrys requested.

“You’re in luck, my supplier just brought in a delivery yesterday,” Aelin wasted no time, because she didn’t have it, and poured Fenrys a tankard of wine. Glasses were for quiet gatherings, not an overcrowded tavern where it was likely to be knocked out of an unsuspecting hand and shattered on the floor.

“My thanks,” Fenrys tipped his drink at her.

Aelin left him to his wine and tended to the never ending flow of patrons looking for food and drink. Fenrys just stayed sitting there and making sure to catch her eye whenever she passed by. There was no question as to why he was here.

One evening a year or two ago Fenrys had come in with the crew of the Maeve. That night had been vastly different to this, with Fenrys and his crewmates nearly the only customers for the evening. That had allowed an easier night for Aelin with more than enough opportunity for conversation with the charismatic man—not with the others because they were a sullen and broody bunch—and eventual flirting. As the night wore on, she and Fenrys ended up on a low couch by the fire. Along with his staggering handsomeness, he was also highly entertaining. His ludicrous stories had Aelin’s sides hurting with laughter and he was kind enough to ply her with enough compliments to keep her by his side. And when it was just the two of them left basking in the fire’s warmth and Fenrys leaned in, she’d let him kiss her. Which led to Aelin guiding him up the stairs and to her room where they kept each other company in other ways.

Since then, whenever he was in port Fenrys appeared in her tavern and they spent what time they could together until he was called away to the sea again. His captain was a hard bastard and didn’t see the point to lingering on land. The first mate wasn’t much better. Aelin had more than her fair share of run-ins with Rowan Whitethorn—none of them ending well. Their arguments had become legendary. She was more than sure that she hated him and that the feeling was mutual.

Fenrys couldn’t be more different than those men, vivacious and brash, he was more than enough a match for her when it came to wit. It was hard to find a flaw in the man. With so much in his favour, Aelin was still unsure whether or not she was in love with him. He was gone too often and for too long for any real emotion to take root. But at the very least they were friends, and they had fun. Without Fenrys her life would be far more dull and the unexpectedness of his arrival always gave their trysts a thrill. If he ever gave up seafaring maybe she could love him more than she did. There was a wildness to Fenrys that only the sea could soothe. Life on land just might bore him to death.

Despite the lack of attention, Fenrys remained, his thumb running over a loose nail that was poking out of the wooden counter. Aelin made note to fix that, she didn’t need the complaints of an unobservant patron who hurt themselves or ripped their clothing. She had to commend Fenrys for his patience, a lesser man might have run off by now.

“How has your day been, Miss Galathynius?” Fenrys asked when Aelin stopped near him to pour out a measure of rum for another customer.

“As you can see, I’m very busy tonight,” Aelin told him, watching his eyes shine as he sipped.

He didn’t look away as the tankard lowered. “I can wait.”

Aelin wanted to sigh in self pity, but she didn’t. “It’s going to be a long night.”

“You can bet on it,” Fenrys said, his words a sensual promise.

Aelin passed off the tankard to the patron who gave her the money in exchange, when there was a call for more beer it reminded her of the impending problem. “Make yourself useful and I might think about it.”

Fenrys’ head titled, the beaded lock of his hair swaying. “How so?”

“I need another one of these,” Aelin said and slapped the keg behind her, “brought up from the cellar.”

Finishing off his wine far quicker than it deserved Fenrys got up from his stool. “It would be my pleasure.”

Aelin pulled out the ring of keys that she tucked into the wide belt around her waist and handed them over to the pirate. “Do not cause me more trouble than you're worth down there.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” Fenrys said with a wink, fingers grazing over the outside of her palm and up her fingers. Despite the heat of the room and the busy fluster Aelin had worked herself into she shivered. That was the first time they had touched and that soft caress had her craving more.

She didn’t have long to dwell on that as she was summoned again and was more than occupied while Fenrys was gone. Drinks were poured one after the other, bowls of Emrys’ chowder went out from the kitchens, the way this was going Aelin wouldn’t be done until the sun came up. Gods knew if Fenrys would be around that long. Aelin groaned, cursing her bad luck. The one night Fenrys would be assuredly in Orynth she would be run off her feet and too busy and too tired to enjoy his company.

Before too long the Fenrys was back, keg on his shoulder to keep it out of the way of the patron’s heads—very considerate. He stepped behind the counter, easing the fresh beer onto the empty stand and expertly fixed the tap. With his job done Fenrys grabbed himself a tankard and helped himself to the first serving. Aelin didn’t bother to stop him, she just gave him a crooked smile and a playful roll of her eyes. He stayed where he was, even though he shouldn’t. Aelin ignored his antics and grabbed two tankards for her own uses. As she leaned over to fill them with beer a broad hand rested on the small of her back, deft fingers tucking her keys back into her belt. With two tankards full, Aelin straightened, one in each hand, and found her path blocked.

“Out of my way, please,” she huffed and then blew at a loose strand of hair. She had tied a scarf around her head in an effort to keep her hair out of her face. The flustering conditions and the humidity weren’t helping the intent.

“Where are you going?” Fenrys asked, standing a little taller but not leaving for where he should be as a paying customer.

Aelin took advantage of the space she could, easing through the small gap Fenrys left between his body and the counter, careful not to spill the beer. “To those people in the corner, I promised I’d bring it over once you had done your job.”

She thought she was free and clear when troublesome hands on her hips stopped her progress. “Do I get a thank you for that?”

The annoyed smirk that lacked the needed irritation was already on her face when she looked up at him. Fenrys was a good head taller than her, his face was full of mirth and all but begging for a kiss as he looked down at her. But Aelin wasn’t ready to give into him just yet.

“Have you bathed since making port, or was the allure of my company too compelling?” She knew the answer, she had noticed the lack of braids he wore while at sea, and she was sure his hair was wet when he first walked in.

That smile fell, an affronted look filled his face. “I’m offended that you would assume that, Aelin.”

“I’m offended that I wasn’t worth skipping a bath over,” Aelin told him.

That was enough of a distraction and when Fenrys laughed Aelin took her chance and stepped out of his hold. Over the commotion of the tavern she swore she could still hear his amusement chasing her through the crowd. Aelin set the foaming tankards down and accepted the generous contribution to the establishment in return. Her pocket was starting to get severely weighed down, she might have to duck up to her rooms to empty it into her coffer.

Her return to her task as barmaid was slower than anticipated, many patrons stopping her for greetings and snippets of gossip. Aelin liked to know what was going on in her city so she listened to all of it, tucking away bits of information that might be useful to herself or her father. Rumours were buzzing that the Maeve had been quite successful on its latest voyage and promised more profit. A hoard of treasure maps was cited as the reason. She might have to ask Fenrys about it.

Eventually Aelin made it back to her post and was surprised to see a small woman with dark hair seated next to Fenrys. They chatted, and the woman laughed at something he said, even touching his forearm that rested on the bar. If Aelin didn’t recognise the woman she might have been jealous. The golden, smiling man was not the company her friend preferred to seek out.

“Elide, hello,” Aelin said, resting her elbow on the other woman’s shoulder.

Elide was dressed in a simple lavender gown, nothing gaudy or to draw attention. She preferred an inconspicuous life where she was the one who made the rules. Her family winery in Perranth was her’s once her parents decided to retire. In the meantime she set about proving just how capable she was.

“I was just chatting to Elide about her wonderful wine,” Fenrys said. “Amongst other things.”

Aelin raised an eyebrow. “Oh?”

“There was a request for a barrel to be sent to the Maeve and I had the unfortunate pleasure of meeting the captain who was the only one left on the ship,” Elide explained. “Such a sullen bastard. I could barely get three words out of him before he disappeared back into his cabin. Luckily before he did he threw some coins at some boys on the dock and they carried it up the gangway.”

“I don’t know why you don’t find yourself a new captain,” Aelin directed at Fenrys.

The man just shrugged. “He’s good at what he does and I get the benefits. It’s not like I have to talk to him. I leave all that up to Whitethorn.”

“Whitethorn? Isn’t he the one who you threw a glass at that one time?” Elide asked.

Aelin huffed, the sound full of aggravation, and then went back to being behind the counter. “The very same.”

One evening for some reason beyond her, Rowan Whitethorn had graced her tavern with his insufferable presence. Nothing had been to his standards, not the beer, not the music and he had been very vocal about it. Aelin had told him to go elsewhere if the current surroundings were so offensive, he ignored her and chose to stay. When he claimed the beer was cheap and tasted like shit she had lost her temper. She had picked up a nearly empty glass of wine and threw it at him which he had effortlessly dodged, something akin to shock on his face as he watched the red liquid drip down the wall. Her demanding he pay for the damages had been the final straw and with a scowl on his sharp and handsome face he left her tavern. Aelin counted that as a win for her.

“The glass was chipped anyway, it was no loss to me.”

Fenrys looked like he was trying to keep his laughter in and like he was about to say something he’d surely regret.

“Don’t,” Aelin said, pointing a finger at him. “You’ll not say a word if you know what’s good for you.”

Yielding to her request, Fenrys held up his hands, the gold rings on his fingers glinting in the low light. “Understood, Princess. Now if you fine ladies will excuse me.”

He was gone moments later, disappearing into the crowd, but Aelin had no doubt that he would return. Fenrys was far too eager for her company to be dissuaded so easily. There was a call further down the counter for more beer and Aelin saw to that before coming back to her friend who hadn’t left.

“Can I get you anything? On the house of course,” Aelin offered.

Elide gave her a knowing look, her eyebrows raised like she could have been questioning Aelin’s sanity. “What are you doing?”

Aelin felt her own brows narrow in confusion. “Working, as you can see.”

“Aelin, my dearest, most lovely friend,” Elide said leaning forward on the counter. “You have a man here, who is desperate for your company and is more than willing to give you a long night of pleasure, and you’re passing out beers instead?”

“I don’t exactly have a choice here,” Aelin said. “Essar is ill, and you can see how busy we are. I’m not exactly the shrewd business woman I claim to be if I ignore it to take Fenrys to my bed.”

As a timely reminder yet another patron asked for a pour of wine and rum, Aelin saw to it as quickly as she could. Luck was not on her side this evening, at this rate she’d be too tired to do anything once she fell into bed.

“I won’t say that you won’t owe me for this,” Elide said, standing up from her stool, “because you will.”

“What are you…”

With quick fingers Elide braided her hair back, securing the end with a dark piece of ribbon. “Show me where everything is.”

It took Aelin a moment to catch on, her face going slack before she grinned. She showed Elide where everything she might need was, going over it twice more for her own peace of mind than her friend requiring more clarification. Aelin also made sure to inform the other’s working tonight so there wasn’t any confusion as to why Elide was behind the counter.

“Keep the tankard tilted, helps limit the foam and unhappy customers,” Aelin explained and the amber liquid rose higher as she gave a hands-on demonstration. “And I think that’s all you need to know.”

“I think I’ve got it,” Elide said.

“And if you have any trouble, call for Ren. He’ll sort it out,” Aelin added.

“Aye, captain.” Elide flourished that comment with a salute.

“What’s going on here?” Fenrys’ voice cut through the conversation.

“I need to deposit some of tonight’s earnings in my room,” Aelin said, sauntering around to the other side of the counter, a hand raising to even out the collar of Fenrys’ jacket. “Care to join me?”

His dark eyes flashed as he easily read the implications of her invitation. “Lead the way.”

Aelin took his hand, leading him through the crowd to the staircase in the corner. The crowd took up the shanty that was being played. When they passed the small gathering dancing in front of the musicians Fenrys spun her and moved with the music, but still kept them heading towards their destination. Reaching the wooden stairs, Aelin gathered her skirts in her free hand to prevent herself from tripping as they hurried up the steps. On the landing they went left, the right led to a halfway with a handful of rooms she let out. Her private ones were larger and more secluded, the balcony on the outside offering beautiful views of the river port. That door painted a rich green was the last obstacle between her and what she wanted. And in just a few more steps she would be there.

Fenrys was a heavy and welcome presence behind her as she worked on unlocking the door. His hands were on her waist, his lips on the bare skin of her shoulder, it was enough of a distraction that Aelin was struggling to secure the key in the lock. That was only made worse when those godsdamned hands slipped higher, pressing over her bodice until they cupped her breasts. That had Aelin arching onto him, and in return that had Fenrys squeezing before his hands travelled downwards again—fingers catching on the neckline of her blouse. She was desperate to feel those hands on her with nothing to hinder them.

“Fen,” Aelin whispered harshly. He just hummed his response onto her skin. “I would very much like to open the door so that we can continue this more privately.”

“My apologies,” he said, low enough that it had her skin pebbling.

Other than that he let her be, halting his distracting journey over her body. It was a disappointing loss but the sooner Aelin got the door open, the sooner they could start again.

Blocking out everything except the lock and key was the only way that Aelin managed to get the door open. She stepped into the dimly lit space, a single lamp barely glowing on a small table where she dropped her keys. There was a couch and an armchair set in front of a cold fireplace and there was another door that led to a private bathroom. The place could have been tidier, but Aelin hadn’t exactly been expecting guests. Fenrys closing the door redirected her attention, and he all but stalked towards her. To tease and make the trek that much easier, Aelin backed up towards her bedroom. She was caught just as they got to the entrance of it, Fenrys catching her by the waist and cupping her face. The moan at that first press of his lips was undeniable.

For a while that’s all they did, just kiss in the dim light under the doorway. When Fenrys’ thumb dragged down the length of her neck, Aelin got impatient. She angled them so that they entered her room with tangled steps towards her bed. Her hands weren’t idle, searching out what bare skin they could. When there wasn’t much on offer Aelin slid one hand down the centre of his chest, all the way down to palm him through his trousers. Fenrys stumbled forward with enough strength to force Aelin back a couple of steps.

“Still have your sea legs?” Aelin teased through her laughter.

Huffing his own laugh, Fenrys pulled her closer so their noses brushed. “Maybe I’ll be steadier on my knees then.”

Before Aelin could even comment his lips were back on her’s, while his focus shifted to removing her clothes. The belt around her waist was the first to go, then his deft fingers had the laces and buttons of her forest green outer skirt undone and it was dropping over her hips. There was a jingling thud as the coins hit the floor, probably scattering, but that was a problem for later. Fenrys' progress was stalled when he discovered that the laces of her undershirt were hidden beneath her bodice. His groan of frustration was comical, and Aelin would have laughed if it weren’t for the way Fenrys’ hands were playing along the tops of her exposed breasts as his mouth lowered to her neck.

Her body was tugged forward as the laces of her bodice were pulled at. Fenrys struggled, getting clumsier the more desperate he became, and even now Aelin’s patience was running thin. She needed him, now. It seemed Fenrys felt the same because one moment her floral embroidered bodice was tight against her body and the next it was falling away. Confused by the sudden development Aelin looked down to see the metallic glint of a knife and the ribbons in pieces.

“You ruined my laces,” Aelin gasped, shoving the brute back half a step. “You bastard.”

Fenrys just smirked down at her, reaching out to slip the strap of the bodice off one shoulder, “I’ll buy you more,” then he did the same with the other. “The prettiest ribbons you can find.”

Aelin let the useless piece of clothing fall off her arms, Fenrys watching her every movement. She gave him a look that said don’t touch as she saw to the underskirt herself, her untucked blouse falling to the very top of her things. Fenrys’ gaze swept over her from head to toe, once and then twice, his eyes catching on the loose neckline that was revealing just enough to drive him wild. But he didn’t move, just waiting for Aelin to dictate what happened next.

“The prettiest and the most expensive,” Aelin said.

Fenrys nodded, not taking his eyes off her for a second. “Whatever you say.”

She didn’t bother with the buttons of her blouse, instead she just pulled it over her head. When Fenrys reappeared in her vision his eyes were ravenous and his hands twitched at his side, no doubt warring with himself and the need to touch her. Aelin pulled out the head scarf and then she was bare except for the simple underwear at her hips. Her hand draped from her neck, drifting down between the valley of her breasts.

“Do you promise?” Aelin asked, smirking at the man in front of her who looked ready to erupt.

She saw the exact moment his resolve snapped, had her laughing as he rushed forward and gave his breathless answer against her lips. “Yes.”

Aelin found herself seated on the edge of her bed, her senses fleeing as Fenrys kissed her. She was half aware of him shedding his jacket and starting on the buttons of his white shirt. The thought came to her that she should help him so that his hands might be better occupied, but she never got the chance to voice it in the slightest. Because Fenrys dropped to his knees in front of her, large hands inching up her thighs. Aelin shuddered and her underwear was pulled down her legs and thrown away. A single wink was all Fenrys gave before on her.

The first brush of his tongue over Aelin’s core had her gasping, arms quaking where they braced her weight on the bed. Fenrys was one to playfully brag about the wonders for his mouth and Aelin could truly attest to every word. She buried her hand in his curls, ruining the bun he had them tied in, and gave herself over to the feeling of every nip, every press of his tongue. Aelin moaned, loud and unrestrained. It had been too long since someone had made her feel like this. The pleasure built to the point of consuming her when every ministration stopped and Fenrys pulled out of her grasp.

“The hell… what are you doing?” Aelin asked through her laboured breaths. Her heart was pounding, her body screaming to be touched again.

“I’ll never last,” Fenrys said, sounding a little mad at himself. That anger only became more evident as he yanked at his clothes to get them off. If Aelin had the wits she might have helped him, but for now she could only watch as everything was revealed to her. “I have to have you now.”

With his pants gone Aelin could see how much Fenrys meant it. The sight of his cock, hard and ready, had her unconsciously arching towards him with need. Fenrys used that to his advantage, his muscled arm wrapping around her waist and hauling them up the bed. It was Aelin who pulled him in for a kiss and from there she let herself burn.

Fenrys settled on her hips, pressing their bodies as flushed together as they could be. The feel of him was incredible, the weight and heat of his body was something Aelin had absolutely missed. His hands ran over what they could—her sides, hips and thighs—anywhere he could reach without separating them. All the while his hips drove into her’s, the length of him rubbing enough delicious friction to make Aelin dizzy with need. She writhed against him, trying her best to get him to slip inside her, even trying to distract him by biting down on his bottom lip. It didn’t work, for now Fenrys was content to touch her, not surprising considering how long he’d been at sea. Aelin knew a touched starve man when she saw, and had thrown many of them out of her establishment over the years. If this is what Fenrys needed, she would gladly give it to him and surrendered.

One hand ceased its movements on her thigh, fingers digging into her flesh to pull her open just a little wider. Aelin moaned in anticipation, feeling the head of his cock at her entrance. Fenrys continued to tease her, his unoccupied hand pressing into her side and then up, his thumb taking a moment to run hypnotising circles over the side of her breast before heading upwards again. Then he pushed her arm up and extended it above her head, his hand dragging all the way up to meet Aelin’s. It wasn’t until their hands were laced together that his hips thrusted at just the right angle he slid into her. At the feel of him seated so deep Aelin’s body bowed into the sensation instinctually, trying to draw the man above her closer, deeper. It had Fenrys groaning into the skin of her neck as they both took a moment to collect themselves before he started moving.

Aelin had expected it to be hurried and desperate, this was anything but. Each roll of his hips was slow and thorough, enough to make Aelin’s breath catch but not take it away. Maybe Fenrys had the right idea, maybe after being apart for so long he was right to savour this first time. She was sure before morning came they would have time for more than enough rounds to make up for it.

“Talk to me, Princess. Let me know you’re here with me,” he nearly begged in between kisses.

“You feel so good, Fen,” Aelin told him.

“I could say the same.” The thrust that followed that admission was sharper than the others, a sure sign he was slowly unravelling.

“You know how I like it.”

“Like what?” Fenrys asked, voice edged with desperation as Aelin moaned. “How you like what, Aelin?”

He was enough of a bastard that he would taunt and take away what was currently driving her insane until she said it, and Aelin was tired of playing. “How I like to be fucked.”

At her words, the steady pace that Fenrys had set faltered, had his body shuddering. “The things you do to me.”

His hips snapped, the angle perfect. Aelin only knew she needed more. “Gods, I need you closer.”

Fenrys rolled them both, his grip on her arse keeping them intimately connected. Aelin thought he was going to stop then, but she felt one strong thigh bend behind and then he had pushed himself up so his back lent on her headboard. Aelin panted as she sat in Fenrys’ lap, savouring the feeling this position gave her. She wouldn’t last much longer, the coil in her stomach wound with each shift of their hips.

“There you go,” Fenrys said sweetly. “I’m right where you want me.”

“Yes,” Aelin whispered. “Thank you.”

The sass that came out of near delirium earned her a rumbling laugh and lingering kiss, making Aelin’s hips roll on their own accord. That undid Fenrys and he kissed her with more urgency as the hands that hadn’t moved shifted her in his lap dragged her onto him, prompting her to move like that again. Aelin did, her hands on the headboard either side of Fenrys’ head. Once she had her rhythm Fenrys let go of her, but not for long. There was a hand on her breast, the other splayed on her pack to push her closer. The man was indeed desperate for contact, only made clearer by his next request.

“Touch me, Aelin.”

She knew he didn’t mean his cock that was still inside her, there was no way in hell Aelin would be willing to with how close she was to breaking apart. Fenrys was after something softer. Her hands left the headboard, and she touched him like he wanted. Sweet caresses over his face, sweeps over his shoulders. It urged Fenrys to move his hips faster, meeting Aelin in perfect synchronisation. His lips on her neck were not what she wanted, so she angled his face to hers, kissing him fiercely. It was his heady groan on her mouth that had Aelin breaking like a wave, pleasure rushing through every nerve of her body. She nearly screamed from the force of it, they had strung it out so long that this relief was blinding and all consuming, all Aelin could do was keep moving to drag it out as long as she could.

“Fuck,” Fenrys moaned on her mouth, helping her move on him chasing his own pleasure. “Fuck me, Aelin.”

Her over sensitive inner walls felt his cock twitch and then Fenrys was groaning as he came. Aelin kept rocking, wanting to draw it out for the both of them as long as she could. It felt too good to let it fade just yet. The way Fenrys clung to her as he caught his breath was sweet, and as Aelin’s own body calmed she ran a soothing hand over his hair. He hummed contentedly, hugging Aelin tighter against him while his lips wandered aimlessly over her skin.

Aelin chuckled. “Feel better?”

“You are too good to me,” Fenrys murmured onto her skin.

For a while they just sat there, touching and waiting for the other to move. In the end it was Fenrys, kissing Aelin deeply as he lay her down before pulling out. He didn’t bother with pants and Aelin took the opportunity to admire the view. When he was gone entirely she stretched out, feeling sated but willing for more. Aelin missed him while he was away, and it wasn’t just in the bedroom, it was the conversation and companionship as well. And now that they’d had such a gratifying release of tension there was nothing to say that they couldn’t do both at the same time.

Soon enough Fenrys returned, cloth in hand, and moments later they were cleaned up and back in each other’s arms. Aelin lay on her side facing Fenrys, and he did the same, his fingers playing with the ends of her hair. She busied herself with idling tracing the scars on his chest. There were no new pale marks that marred his skin. When she ran her finger over a particularly large one low on his side Fenrys shivered.

“So I hear the Maeve and her crew have fallen into good fortune,” Aelin said.

“That would be true,” Fenrys kissed her forehead before pulling back. “Whitethorn found some maps in an abandoned cave in the Cambrian Mountains. There used to be stories of a creature in the lake that guarded them, so who knows how many years superstition won out. We’ve been more than successful.”

“Good to hear.” It was then that she noticed the blue gem stud in his earlobe. The piercing wasn’t now, Aelin hadn’t seen this earring before. She reached out to flick it. “Is that a sapphire?”

Fenrys nodded his head. “It is. Do you like it?”

Aelin shrugged, and as if she couldn’t help but be drawn to him her body inched closer. “I prefer emeralds.”

“Well,” Fenrys said, voice straining as he used his weight and a hand on her hip to urge Aelin to lie on her back. “Next time I��ll try and bring you some back. Whitethorn usually claims them all first though.”

Aelin scoffed. “Selfish bastard.”

Fenrys’ answer to that was a soft chuckle and an upward sweep of his hand over her body. Instantly Aelin's blood heated again, craving his touch and the release that would inevitably follow. Fenrys read every sign that her body was giving, propped up on an elbow as he watched her try not to writhe. His fingers had claimed the peak of her breast, teasing and pinching until it was hard. When he flicked it Aelin gasped, a hand darting out to hold him by the back of the neck. Then his mouth was on the unattended breast and Aelin gave up fighting her composure.

“You’re not ready yet,” she panted, her body bucking as need pulsed lower.

“Ah, Princess,” Fenrys said, but Aelin barely heard him. She was too focused on the hand that was travelling down her body. “That doesn’t mean we can’t have fun in the meantime.”

The only answer she could offer him was a deep moan as his thumb reached the apex of her thighs, drawing tight circles that were almost too much. Fenrys slowed down, and shifted so that both his hands and his mouth had something to do. When Aelin gasped as his fingers teased her entrance, Fenrys kissed her, his tongue sliding into her mouth. The sensations of his mouth, the hand on her breast and the other between her thighs had Aelin hurtling towards that peak of release. But Fenrys held her there right on the edge, forcing Aelin to open her eyes and look at him.

Fenrys’ dark eyes were full of so many sinful promises that there was no doubt what the rest of the evening would entail. “I made you a promise, Aelin. And I intended to keep it.”

With that declaration his fingers slipped into her, finding that spot and moments later she was unravelling and moaning her pleas to the gods. Aelin was in for a long night indeed.

Soft kisses and wandering hands woke her up the next morning. Her bedroom was barely illuminated by the morning light meaning it must be early. She usually got to sleep late into the morning due to the working hours she kept. But last night it had been Fenrys who had kept her up until the very small hours of the morning. Aelin groaned, this time not in pleasure—at least it wasn’t that way at first. When his hand brushed over her bare breast like that it was hard to maintain her indignation.

“Why are we awake?” Aelin mumbled into her pillow.

Fenrys kissed up her neck. “Still on ship's time.”

He was ready. She could feel the hardness and heat of him pressing into her back. It wasn’t a terrible way to be woken up and Aelin supposed she could sleep later. The White Stag wouldn’t open until after noon anyway. Aelin pushed back into him, but went pliant in his hands, a signal that she was willing to give him the lead this time. Fenrys all but growled, nipping at her shoulder and he urged her onto her stomach.

They were in a tangled mess of sheets and bedding, there was some manoeuvring on Fenrys’ part to free trapped limbs. Opening her eyes, Aelin found herself at the foot end of the bed. It seems they hadn’t bothered to put themselves to bed properly after their escapes the night before. Aelin had simply grabbed a pillow and fallen asleep where she was, the pillow she now tossed away as she was pressed into the mattress. Fenrys ran his hands over her body, stopping at her hips just to angle them how he wanted. The sleep haze fled, and want replaced it, causing a needy whimper to escape Aelin’s lips without her permission.

Fenrys started his trek up her body, his lips leading the way as they trailed up her spine. He brushed her knotted hair over her shoulder and continued to the newly exposed skin. Aelin could feel the heat of his body as he was braced over her now, a hand sneaking its way of the sheets to lay over one of her’s. That little gesture had Aelin smiling, remembering how demanding he had been for small affections last night. This morning was no different.

“I don’t think I’ve told you enough,” Fenrys said by her ear, making her skin pebble. “You’re stunning.”

“You don’t, I want to hear it more,” Aelin snarked back.

Fenrys snorted, making her laugh in turn. “Duly noted, Princess.”

He lined himself up, the swollen head of his cock pressing against her core. Aelin tried to push herself back to take him deeper, but Fenrys held her still, a silent demand to just wait. She did, it might have killed her a little but she did. Then Fenrys slid in with one delicious stroke. Aelin moaned the entirety of it, loving the feeling of having him inside her again.

“You are stunning,” Fenrys whispered, accentuating his words with another thrust. “Absolutely stunning.”

“Fen,” Aelin breathed. “More.”

Fenrys dropped lower, still holding most of his weight himself, and shifted so that they moved in a steady grind. It felt so good that all Aelin could do was let herself be swept away in everything he was giving.

“Stunning.” Fenrys’ breathing was getting harder, the word coming out nearly desperate.

Aelin was about to demand it harder—faster—when her bedroom door was unceremoniously thrown open, hard enough it slammed on her wall. No knocking, no nothing, there was someone else in her room. Fenrys nearly collapsed on top of her, he managed to stop himself before he crushed all the air out of her lungs. Aelin looked up, glaring and ready to spit her best obscenities at the intruder. The unexpectedness of their identity had the words catching on her tongue and her cheeks heating.

Because there, in her doorway was none other than Rowan Whitethorn.

“Shit,” Fenrys said, pushing the sheet her way so she could cover herself. He’s always been considerate like that.

Aelin was the first to recover. “I don’t remember inviting you into my home.”

Rowan ought to be commended for how intently he kept his eyes on her face. “Should have locked your door. Time to go, Moonbeam.”

“Piss off, Whitethorn.” That may have been the first time Aelin had truly heard Fenrys sound angry.

“I gave you orders,” Rowan said, arms crossing over his chest.

Aelin wished she had her pistol, or maybe the dagger in her nightstand, just something to threaten the infuriating man with. “Unless you plan to join us, get out.”

Rowan raised one of eyebrows, the tattoos on his face shifting. “You two should be so lucky.”

Gods, here they were chatting and Fenrys was still inside her.

Fenrys seemed to realise the same moment she did, discreetly separating them and using some of the messy bedding to cover himself. Keeping her eyes locked on the green ones, Aelin took a handful of sheet and held it to her chest as she slowly sat up, not caring what might or might not be covered. From the way that the cold morning air nipped at her skin, Whitethorn was getting at least a little bit of a show.

And right there, Aelin didn’t miss how his eyes finally darted down, just for one lingering moment before he spun around and marching through her living room.

“Now, Moonbeam!” He bellowed over his shoulder as hand racked through his shoulder length silver hair, making sure to slam the other door that opened to the landing as well.

There was a moment of charged silence and then Aelin giggled and fell back on the bed. Fenrys joined in, the intensity of their laughter increasing until they were both struggling to breathe. Fingers on her chin tilted her head to the side to see Fenrys’ dark eyes full of amusement.

“I am so sorry, Aelin.” His voice was still shaking.

Aelin shrugged. “I don’t suppose we could finish up?”

That sobered Fenrys up very quickly. “He’s likely to come back and drag me out naked into the street.”

“That would be quite the end to the story,” Aelin mused like she was considering it.

“You are pure trouble,” Fenrys said, tapping her nose.

Aelin laughed, taking Fenrys’ hand. “I could say the same about you.”

They both knew he had to go, but neither of them were willing to start the goodbye. In the end Fenrys got up with a heavy sigh, picked up his pants and started dressing. Aelin sat up, watching the disaster unfold in front of her. She thought they would have more time—at least today to enjoy themselves together and catch up. It wasn’t to be and it filled Aelin with a sudden feeling of loneliness.

“Hey,” Fenrys said as he tightened his belt. “I’ll be back in no time.”

Aelin nodded. “With my emerald”

With a crooked smirk Fenrys replied, “With your emerald.”

“Even if you have to fight that bastard Whitethorn for it,” Aelin pressed, moving to sit on the edge of the bed.

Fenrys’ hands landed either side of her hips, one last brief moment of closeness. “For you it would be my honour.” He picked up his jacket off the floor, shrugging it onto his shoulders. Fully dressed there was nothing left to delay him and with one final kiss, Fenrys finally said goodbye. “Until next time, Princess.”

Aelin nodded, swallowing against the tightness building in her throat. Fenrys winked then left her room. It was at the final glance of him walking out the deep green door that she finally whispered, “Until next time.”

~~~~~

I know its not the usual but I had so much fun writing these two!

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#sjmcrackshipmonth23 #fenlin #aelin x fenrys #throne of glass fanfiction #it might not be your thing but you might want to skip to the end #ohhh boy i might have created a monster here

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