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yoonivy · 3 days

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gold rush; part 5.

modern!aemond targaryen x fem!reader

genre. romantic comedy — inspired by 10 things i hate about you and also another movie (can you guess which one? :) ) , college/university au, smut, enemies to lovers (kinda??? their relationship is complicated to explain LOL)

In all the 8 years you’ve known Aemond Targaryen, he has not spoken more than 8 words to you. In total. So why is he starting now?

warnings. ramsay, aegon, and their friends. deepthroating.

01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 | 06 | 07

---

One night turns it into two and then three… and before Aemond knows it, three weeks have gone by and he still hasn’t told you what he should have told you weeks ago.

(Or the thing that shouldn’t have even been a plan in the first place.)

It’s part selfishness of not wanting to lose you, and cowardice — also for not wanting to lose you.

In his mind, the plan is already called off. If people get pissed off at him then that’s fine. All he knows is he is not going to do that to you. Not anymore.

Besides, the plan was idiotic anyway. Aegon came up with it, so that tells you everything you need to know. The only reason Aemond got roped into it was because nobody thought Aegon could successfully court you to get even a single date.

Now Aemond is glad he got convinced to carry out the plan instead because the thought of you with his older brother now makes him sick. Especially when he thinks about the text his brother had wrote in the family group chat last night that he had ignored but can’t get out of his head:

Aegon

— aemond is taking too long with the plan 😫

— maybe I should take over

— didn’t ____ have a crush on me before?

Daeron

— IJBOOOOOOOOL 😶🌫️

He ignored the messages, not bothering to reply, but that doesn’t mean that what Aegon had said hasn’t been running around his head all night long.

You used to have a crush on Aegon?! When was that?!

It’s impossible, a total fabrication and defamation of your character!

But still… it could be possible.

Aemond is not completely blind to see that his older brother is pretty popular with women (especially those who don’t know him beyond his looks) , and growing up, he has had many classmates who had feelings for his brother (some even shameless enough to ask him if his brother was seeing anyone) — but to think that you would have fallen for his brother’s trickery and deceit even if it was just a stupid teenage crush?

It makes Aemond want to empty out the content of his stomach.

Which is not much. Just coffee, black. Forgoing breakfast as he is currently waiting for you outside your apartment building to get brunch together.

As he waits, he ruminates, trying to recall any indication of his brother’s statement as true. The more he combs through his memories, the more bothered he gets because can’t recall any. And not because there isn’t a moment that it might be possible (as much as he hopelessly wishes this was the case) but it’s because he never bothered to care or observe anything you did in the past so his memory is coming up empty.

So what if you did used to harbor a crush on Aegon?

The thought makes Aemond ill.

“Morning sunshine—-!” Your cheerful exclamation is immediately halted by the look of your boyfriend’s face when you get a good look at him. Still handsome like always but he seems to be unhappy. And rest assured, you can now tell the difference between his resting bitch face or if he is actually in a foul mood by now.

You place a delicate hand on his upper arm, expression full of concern. “Hey, you okay?”

Aemond focuses in on you — on your pretty face that he has grown so truly fond of. The one face that he wants to see everyday and if he doesn’t, it would just automatically be a mundane or terrible day. The sight of you leaves him breathless, he nods slow, distracted.

Then he bends to ravish your mouth. Needy. His fingers digging into your hips to pull you closer. Possessive.

It’s a lot for eleven in the morning — not that you’re complaining!

“Wow… good morning to me,” you say with a cheeky smirk when you pull away. Aemond seems brighter too, smiling softly as he looks down at you.

It seems that whatever he was thinking about before you came is completely forgotten now.

“So, where are we going?” You ask once in his car, pulling on the passenger seatbelt.

“It’s this place that just opened,” he tells you, his eye on the road. “Helaena recommends it; their only other location is in King’s Landing and she goes nearly every week.”

“Oooh!” You perk up in your seat. “I trust Helaena’s taste so I’m excited!”

Aemond grins, then hears the telltale sound coming from his speaker that lets him know that someone connected to it via Bluetooth.

“Also, I heard this song last night and thought of you,” you say just as a sweet melody starts to play.

I’ve never known someone like you,

Tangled and lovestuck by you

From the glue

Aemond tries to bite down his growing smile as he takes in the lyrics. But when you flash your pretty smile his way, he cannot help but return it.

Because it’s you.

And that’s just how he is now.

Crazy about you.

Guess I’m stuck forever on the glue

—- oh, and you…

---

By the time you arrive at your destination, there is already a long line wrapping around the corner of the street to get into the new brunch place.

You shoot a worried look towards Aemond — both brows rising as your eyes comically widen — but all Aemond does in response is smirk, cool and collected.

He meets you at your side of the car, opens the door like a gentleman and offers out his hand for you to hold. You take it as you step out, and you walk hand in hand with Aemond leading you past the long line of people and all the way to the entrance.

You are a bit confused, seeing as how while you were looking at the menu on your phone during the drive, it said that there are no reservations and it’s first come, first serve.

Before you can question it, he tells the hostess by the door his name and she greets the two of you with a warm smile and then calls someone from inside to show you to your seat.

Guess this is one of the perks of being wealthy or having a recognizable name.

“Helaena is friends with the chef so she got us a table,” Aemond explains when he notices your curious expression on him.

Ah… makes sense.

You hear disgruntled murmurings behind you while you walk in with your boyfriend.

You recall times that you were in their shoes — watching glitzy and clearly very wealthy stride in places with or even without reservations while you were waiting for hours . But now that you’re with Aemond… your back straightens, holding your head high as you try not to feel like an imposter in your $14.99 thrifted dress.

Then — as if feeling your slightly anxious energy — Aemond squeezes your hand and looks back with a sweet smile, leaning into your ear and murmurs you’re gorgeous.

Your knees almost buckle, feeling like you’re both melting on the spot and drifting up to the heavens.

With your free hand, you grab onto his arm, the same one holding your hand, and nuzzle up closely to him with a gleeful grin rounding your cheeks.

“We have two tables for you to choose from, Sir,” the host says, leading you and Aemond through the fully occupied restaurant. “There’s one at our outdoor patio on the roof, or—“

“Oh, Mondy~!”

Aemond stiffens at the sound of the voice, his hand clutching yours tighter. Still, he doesn’t dare look, and even somewhat turns away to seemingly block out and pretend he had not heard what he surely had heard and keeps walking. But you, on the other hand, slow your steps to peer around him curiously.

What you see is his older brother, Aegon, sitting at a table, twiddling his fingers at the two of you with a strange and sickeningly sweet grin on his face. You stop — causing Aemond to do so as well, but not without the most frustrated and heaviest sigh — and you wave back slowly.

“What a coinkydink!” Aegon exclaims, hands clapping together as he stands up and makes his way over. “Such a wonderful surprise!”

Aemond grimaces, knowing it was anything but. Helaena had accidentally messaged the groupchat with his siblings to ask about the time when he wanted to arrive at the restaurant, so he is pretty sure Aegon just bothered her to put his name on the list as well.

“And ____, you are looking absolutely gorgeous — as always.”

Aemond’s grimace twists into a furious deep seated scowl when Aegon steps up and throws his arm around his girlfriend’s shoulder, yanking you towards him that you essentially had to drop Aemond’s hand from the shock of it with a soft oh falling from your lips.

“C’mon! Join us!” Aegon exclaims, gesturing towards his table where their cousin, Vis, and the Cargyll twins were sitting. He snaps his fingers towards the host, an order to grab another chair for the table.

Without allowing either you or Aemond to accept or decline on the idea, Aegon sits you down on the chair beside his. When Aemond tries to sit down on the empty seat right across from yours, Aegon shakes his head and points to the new seat at the head of the table — the one furthest away from you.

Aemond opens his mouth to question and protest, but Aegon beats him to it, “that seat’s taken.”

Eyeing the leather bomber jacket thrown haphazardly on the seat, Aemond sighs in defeat and begrudgingly drops down on the one forcefully assigned to him.

You make eye contact with your boyfriend, offering a tight smile as you notice his completely neutral expression before taking a hold of the menu to glance through, hiding the way you bite down your disappointment. You guess he is fine with this. So even though you had been anticipating this date with Aemond, to spend some quality time with just him, this is the least you could do for him. Aemond has been integrated into your friend group, it’s only fair for you to get to know his.

Unbeknownst to you, your boyfriend’s carefully calm expression is just his way of staying calm. Really, he desperately wants to throttle his older brother. This is the last thing he wanted.

The cherry that tops the shit cake arrives when the person who had reserved the seat across from you finally comes back from wherever he had been hiding. From one of the layers of Hell, probably.

“This beautiful day just keeps getting better and better!” Ramsay exclaims by way of announcing himself when he gets to the table.

You are visibly disgusted when he crowds your space to hug you, smelling strongly of cigarette smoke. You push him away when he doesn’t let go of you quick enough. All the bastard does is chuckle, like it’s so amusing how put off you are of him.

Straightening up, Ramsay offers Aemond a shit-eating grin and a nod. “How’re you doing there, bloke?”

Aemond couldn’t hide his feelings anymore — especially after witnessing Ramsay’s dirty hands on you, even if it just barely grazed your back — now openly seething, his nostrils flared.

“Great,” Aemond fumes, tone flat and discontent. “Just wonderful .”

There’s an infuriating comment at the tip of Ramsay’s mouth, but thankfully, the waiter arrives to pour you and Aemond water and to take orders.

The guys barely looked at the menu, ordering whatever they fancy. (“Mimosa,” Vis tuts, without even acknowledging the waiter. “And hold the orange juice.”) Meanwhile, you calculate in your head the total of your order before politely asking the waiter for a stack of buttermilk pancakes ($23, the cheapest on the menu) with strawberry compote (an extra $5) and a glass of mimosa ($17) as well — to treat yourself, and because you know you’ll probably need it to make it through this brunch with Ramsay. This means you probably have to scavenge through your fridge for leftovers for the next few days until you get paid but it’s fine.

After the twins introduce themselves to you, Vis directs the conversation to something that you guess they had been discussing before you and Aemond had arrived, seeing it sounded like his point was a continuation of a previous thought. Although listening intently, you don’t contribute to the conversation, only half understanding what was being said. Aemond, on the other hand, easily comprehends the subject of discussion and adds in his opinion.

Leaning towards him as you tuck your hand under your chin, you hang onto every word that comes out of Aemond’s mouth. You can admit, Aemond can be a little pretentious at times (okay, perhaps more than sometimes), but maybe it’s because you adore him that he sounds highly intelligent and, let’s be real, fucking hot.

But what Aemond said clearly pissed Vis off, opposing his opinion. The latter scoffs, face going sour.

While the food starts to be brought to the table, Vis turns towards you. “What do you think about it?”

You don’t even realize he was speaking to you until he calls your name. You shake away your dreamy gaze of your boyfriend to glance questioningly at his cousin. He repeats himself with a vapid curl of his lips.

After quickly acknowledging the staff who places your plate in front of you with a sweet smile and soft thank you, you think about how to reply. You like to think you are well read and also quite politically inclined (with Robb, Margaery and Meera as your best friends, it’s hard not to be), but you are not someone who spouts off things without being educated about it. And this — a certain trade route closing and the economic impact because of it — you are definitely not educated about. You do know about the conflict in the southern countries of Essos and economic crises there because of said conflict – but you hadn’t realized it affected Westeros as well. But perhaps you should have, knowing that some Westeros countries and politicians are the reason for the further destabilization in many Essos countries.

Choosing your words carefully, you tell them exactly just that. You think your response was sound and good, sitting up straighter as you notice the glint in your boyfriend’s eye.

That is until Vis chuckles meanly and snarks, “You shouldn’t have said anything at all if it was going to end with no substance.”

Your stomach drops as you meet Vis’ challenging stare.

“I’m sorry,” you murmur meekly. “I guess you’re right…”

“I think what you said was perfectly fine,” Aemond tries to defend you, frustration dripping in his words.

“ Awww… don’t be so harsh on her, Vis,” Ramsay coos with an exaggerated pout. “She’s a Creative Writing major.”

The whole table laughs at that, save for you and Aemond.

“Genuinely curious, what are you going to do with a degree like that?” One of the twins speaks up. Erryk, you think, the one with the longer hair.

You try to force a smile as you try to disregard the judgment in his question, your spirit lifting up slightly as you talk about something you are passionate about. “I would like to get my words out there. Publish a few books. Do some live performances…”

“What do you write?” Arryk asks.

“Oh, um, poetry!”

That earns a couple snorts and snickers. Inhaling deeply, your smile wavers, but you manage to keep it on.

“And if that doesn’t work out?” Arryk continues his line of questioning. “What are you going to do then…? Teach english? ”

He says it like it’s an unworthy cause, but you think of Professor Seaworth and how much you admire him. “I mean, I wouldn’t oppose it.”

“I’m sure it will work out. She’s wonderful at what she does and has such a beautiful way with words,” Aemond adds, and your heart swells, smiling gratefully at him. “She even has a few of her pieces published already.”

“Where?” Vis asks, skeptical.

Aemond proudly names all the publications that featured your work. You're surprised he knows them off by heart.

“No one reads any of that,” Vis says with a roll of his eyes and Aemond’s hand tightens into a white knuckled fist. Your own sets down the fork you were just about to bring up to your mouth, your bleary eyes stay trained on your plate. You are not feeling very hungry anymore.

Meanwhile, Aegon is already on his phone and pulling up one of your work.

Without any prompting, Aegon begins to dramatically read one of your poems out loud, and the guys laugh after every line. You confess, it’s not your best work out there, but — did they really have to do this and laugh in your face?

“I don’t know why you’re all laughing — it’s better than anything you tossers have said in your entire life,” Aemond says.

Vis puffs out a breath. “Oh, please… it’s juvenile.”

At this point, you feel like you are closing off, hardly really hearing anything anymore. It’s as if your mind is trying to save you from the humiliation. You don’t understand why they are targeting you so cruelly. Did you say something that made them dislike you so much?

It’s so baffling that you couldn’t even stand up for yourself when you usually would. You just sit there, mute.

“It’s on par with his ex-girlfriend’s lyrics about him,” Ramsay comments gleefully. The others laugh and exclaim in agreement.

“No offense,” Arryk begins, glancing towards you as he says your name. “You seem like a lovely girl and all, but I’m surprised Aemond’s dating you—”

“What the fuck are you saying?” Aemond snarls.

“I’m just saying …!” Arryk throws his palms up defensively, shrugging his shoulders. “The last girl you dated was Myrcella Baratheon —”

… As in Luvie? The popstar?!

You throw a questioning look at Aemond but his glare is set on Arryk, looking like he is about to pounce.

“I think what my brother is trying to say is that it’s quite a — I don’t want to say it but… a downgrade , you know?” Erryk slides in. Then to you, he quickly adds, “Not to say that you’re a downgrade, but just — you know Aemond. He’s very arrogant and particular—”

“Stop talking,” Aemond demands. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“See, sweetheart,” Ramsay smirks at you, playfully nudging your foot under the table. “This is why I never introduced you to any of them when we were dating. They’re assholes . Your sweet, little heart doesn’t deserve this.”

Aegon throws his arm around your shoulder, grinning from ear to ear. “Don’t be offended, babe. It’s not that serious. This is just how we are! If anything, all this jest shows how much we like you! You’re practically part of the family now!”

You could not even bother to shrug Aegon off you. You just smile tightly at him, wondering if he is right. Your friends do joke around like this — but never to this hurtful extent. Are you just too soft for all of this?

Suddenly a loud screech resounds in the room of metal against the flooring, causing the whole group (and some of the other surrounding patrons) to shut up and turn to witness Aemond standing up in a breakneck speed, both his palms pressed on the table. Your mouth parts in a silent gasp when you notice how tight his body seems to be with tension, his whole demeanor dour and rigid.

Aemond flashes his vicious gaze at his older brother, flicking between Aegon’s widened eyes and where his hand is touching your shoulder.

“Get. Your. Hand. Off. Her.” Aemond coldly instructs.

Aegon laughs, albeit nervously. “Calm down, Mondy,”

Still, he follows his younger brother’s order and hastily slips his arm away from you. “We’re just joking around! The twins share a single brain cell between them. Vis has a flair for dramatics and is a debate pervert. And Ramsay is, well… Ramsay!” He takes a quick glance at the man he just spoke about. “No offense, mate.”

Ramsay’s blue eyes roll while he mutters a whatever.

But their exchange is lost on you, your attention is solely captured by Aemond, holding himself in such a tall and regal manner, still standing there as if waiting for a more opportune moment to speak up.

The time comes when the guys realize he hasn’t sat back down, and they all gaze up to where he stands at the end of the table. Aemond visibly unnerves them by how deathly silent he is and by the way his lips start to curl into a disconcerting smirk — the boys exchanging looks of concern amongst themselves. Then, even more so, when they notice his violet eye stare straight ahead as he begins to speak, “It seems that for once in your life, Aegon, you’re right.”

Aemond’s tone is a little too calm, but in a way that you know it is taking everything in him to level his voice that evenly.

“ ____ and I are unfortunate enough to find ourselves amongst clowns on what should have been a beautiful morning.”

The boys throw in their objects and varied choices of what the fuck? but Aemond ignores them, continuing in slow drawl, “I mean, take Vis for example. The only reason you care to learn about the state of the economy and the trading route is so you can have something to blame for your own failing businesses. Oh, excuse me, let me correct myself — failed businesses. How many of them have you had to file for bankruptcy again?”

Vis doesn’t answer, his expression just twists in contempt. So Aemond answers his own question, “It was all five, wasn’t it?”

Unable to help himself, Aegon chokes on a cough to cover up a laugh that just bursts out.

“Now, Arryk—” Aemond sharply glances sideways to the shorter-haired twin, then snaps to the other, “Erryk—” then back straight ahead, “Neither of you should be so comfortable about asking someone whether they are taking the right path to a successful future. Because if you ask me , what the two of you have dedicated your whole life for does not look to be working out. Not when you two are on the starting line-up of the university’s hockey team that has been on a three season losing streak, and will most likely stay that way as long as the two of you are on the team.”

The twins have never looked so identical until this very moment. Their tense jaws roll while they both scoff at the same time.

Knowing that he is probably next on the chopping block, Ramsay sits back coolly as he folds his arms across his chest, chewing obnoxiously on a piece of steak with a smirk. “Do your worst, mate. I’ve already heard it all from my father.”

Aemond lets out a humourless chuckle, head dipping in a nod to agree with him. “You’re probably right. But your father doesn’t even know the worst of it, does he? That you spend his hard earned money to buy yourself a recording contract, radioplay, and bots to boost your band’s social media engagement, and still your band has nothing to show for it. The only song people like of yours is the one with my girlfriend’s lyrics, and yet you were laughing at her poem earlier?”

You blink blankly at what Aemond just said. “What do you mean my lyrics ?”

You’ve never, ever written anything for Ramsay.

Aemond tilts his head at you with adorable confusion, his expressive brows drawing together.

“Your poem ‘bad astrology’ is also the lyrics for his song…”

Then it dawns on him the same time it does to you —

“You stole my work?!”

“You didn’t get her permission?!”

Ramsay’s eye twitches as his mouth flops open and close like a fish out of water. But he recovers quickly, his mouth stretching into its usual smarmy smirk. “Come on, babe, don’t be like that! You don’t remember letting me use your poem?”

This is what he is going with? Gaslighting?

You let out a brief laugh of disbelief, a glare that could kill aimed right at Ramsay.

“First of all, don’t call me babe, or sweetheart, or anything like that ever again, you — you disgusting worm! And second — are you stupid ? I would never let you use my words for your shitty ass band! Why would I ever want to be associated with that ?”

Angered now, Ramsay spits out, “I seem to recall that you loved being associated with my bed, sl—“

“Don’t you dare talk to her like that,” Aemond sneers, slamming his hand on the table. “You—”

Aemond stops himself when he sees the look on your face.

The ire. The frustration. The mortification.

It’s not worth it, he thinks. As much as he wants to humiliate Ramsay further, Aemond needs to get you out of the situation — now.

You are his priority.

Aemond grabs his wallet out of his pocket and throws a couple hundred bills on the table, addressing the table, “You’re all a bunch of right sodding pricks.”

Then he rounds the table where you are and offers his hand out for you.

You take it quickly with a tight squeeze and a watery smile up at your boyfriend, and then the two of you are off.

Although the mood is beyond ruined, Aegon grins at his newly humbled friends, leaning across the table to snatch the money Aemond had graciously gave.

“Well, that was fun!”

---

As soon as the two of you step out onto the sidewalk, Aemond has you wrapped around his arms.

“I’m so sorry,” he says to you softly. “You didn’t deserve any of that.”

“‘S not your fault,” your voice is muffled, face buried into his chest. You’re not crying, at least not yet. You don’t want to either, none of them are worth your tears.

You pull away slightly, your fingers still gripping on the lapels of Aemond’s coat as you glance up at him. “Thank you for standing up for me.”

“Don’t thank me,” Aemond’s voice breaks a little, his heart breaking from the tears rimming around your sad eyes. “I should have—” He sucks in a breath, shaking his head, disappointed in himself. “I should have done more.”

Then his gaze is on you again, remorse heavy in that violet eye. “If I had known that Ramsay had stolen your poetry, I would have told you. You know that, right?”

“I know, don’t worry,” you frown, still grasping with the fact that one of your favorite piece of writing is somewhere out there, in some shitty acid metal rock song. “At least I know now…”

Aemond glances back at the restaurant, his hand closing into a fist. He wants to go back in there and wipe that infuriating smirk off of Ramsay’s face forever.

“Hey, look at me,” with your hand on his face, you bring his attention back on you. “I want to forget about everything that just happened, okay? I don’t care about any of them in there, I just care about you. I don’t want them to ruin this beautiful day that I was supposed to spend with you, Aemond.”

Because of the softness of you and your words, the tension that had overtaken Aemond finally dissipates. Relaxing from your touch.

“The day isn’t over yet,” he reminds you, allowing a small smile to spread on his lips.

You shake your head, returning his smile with a tiny one of your own. His head turns slightly to kiss your inner wrist. So comforting and sweet. “It’s not.”

Letting your hand fall from his face, you intertwine it with his hand instead.

“I’m pretty sure there’s some sort of promotion at Hot Pies this weekend,” you let him know about the diner close by campus that you and your friends (and now Aemond as well) are regulars at. “Bottomless hot chocolate.”

“Bottomless… hot chocolate ?”

You nod eagerly, an excited grin lighting up your face, making Aemond laugh fondly.

“Well, we can’t miss that.”

“Nope! No, we can’t!”

His smiling lips pressed onto yours before he turns to go. But just when he pulls your hand to lead back to his car, you pull back, causing him to pause to glance back at you, puzzled.

You are not looking at him — not into his eye, anyway. Your gaze is downcast, on where your hand is intertwined with his.

“Did you mean it…” you begin softly, uncharacteristically bashful. “... that you like my stuff?”

This time, it is Aemond’s turn to ease your mind.

Without a word, he shows you his phone screen. A habit he learned from you and your friends. Whether it’s to let him see a stupid TikTok, a funny text, or funny meme; you and your friends are notorious for sharing your screen. Aemond has a feeling that you all know each other’s lock screen passcode.

Brows drawing together in confusion, you blink prettily between him and his phone. Aemond grins, urging you to look with a nod of his head.

Your gaze narrows at him, confused and suspicious yet piqued, and so you take the phone from his hand.

On the screen, he has his phone gallery pulled up, in a folder titled: ___’s poems.

And that’s exactly what it was, a folder full of your poetry, screenshots from the different websites, social medias, and publications you had posted them on. You press on the latest one, and it’s dated back to two weeks ago. You scroll through and notice that each one had been favorited, indicated by the tiny white heart on the corner. The oldest picture was saved on the day you competed in the slam poetry contest.

“Aemond… what is this?” You ask, sniffing from the cold and perhaps something else.

Pulling his favorite scarf off his neck, your boyfriend takes a step closer towards you with the prettiest smile that makes your heart feel all warm.

“After watching you perform your poetry at the competition, I just… I couldn’t stop thinking about you on that stage,” You listen to his soft voice while you watch with him with watery eyes as he gingerly and tenderly starts to wrap the soft cashmere around you. “Your way with words is so captivating. They made me think, they made me feel, they made me see the world in a different lens. A better lens — one that is beautiful yet sometimes melancholic, but always so heartfelt and true. it’s just so…” Now that you are warmly bundled up by his doing, Aemond cradles your face in his hands and murmurs through his breathtaking smile, “ You .”

And then he is pressing a kiss on your lips that has you feeling faint, swooning like a lead actress in an old time movie.

You part away from each other, but you lay your hand over his on your cheek to keep it there. Keep him close. After what happened and what he just told you, you feel so safe with him.

“I…” he trails off as soon as he started, bashful all of the sudden.

“What?” You question teasingly, a grin spreading on your lips as you notice the blush spreading on his cheeks. Knees bending and head tilting at an uncomfortable angle, you try to annoy him further, “Aemond, tell me . Tell me!”

He presses his lips together, as if regretting even opening his mouth in the first place. But then you look up at him with those eyes of yours and he can’t deny you.

“I reread your poems whenever I’m missing you.”

“…oh,” you say, straightening up slowly, face not betraying anything. Completely cool and perfectly chill.

But your heart?

Oh, it’s down bad . Downright horrendous. Absolutely helpless at this point.

“I—“ you stop yourself, giggling nervously. Oh Gods, you almost said it.

You feel it. You know you do. It’s undeniable at this point.

But you want the first time you say it to be perfect.

So instead you lean up to kiss his cheek, murmuring in his ear, “Thank you.”

Aemond turns his face, quickly capturing your lips before you could pull away. It catches you completely by surprise, but it was a nice one, judging by the way you hum happily as you nuzzle deeper into the kiss, your dainty fingers grasping onto his biceps. Hands on your waist, Aemond pulls you closer, but when he does, he feels your stomach rumbling — even through your peacoat.

“Let’s get you something to eat, pretty girl,” Aemond says, laughing when you peck his lips two, three — or five — more times when he tries to pull away. He returns your sweet kisses one last time with a cheeky smile and then he takes your hand.

Aemond tries to lead you to his car. But again, you stay rooted in your spot, tugging him back to you. Concerned, Aemond searches the way you are looking at him, eyes clear and curious, playful almost – unlike how it was watery and sad like it was before. Relief floods through him, and so he waits for you to speak.

“ So , um…” You play with his hand, just beating around the bush. He tilts his head in confusion, so you just come out with it, “You dated… Luvie ?”

Glancing away from you, Aemond squints at the sky, clearing his throat gracelessly. “Well… yes . Sort of, kind of… It was barely anything, actually.”

“What?! Are you serious?! You have to tell me everything !” You exclaim in awe. How could your boyfriend keep this from you?! “How’d you two meet? Who asked who out first? What ... actually, don’t tell me everything . I don’t, you know, want all the gory details of you two… doing things…”

While you rambled, your boyfriend successfully got you into his car.

“We didn’t!”

“Uh-huh, okay. You dated Pop Base’s Hottest Woman of the Year and you didn’t do anything, mhm … So start talking, Aemond Targaryen.”

“Can we at least wait until we get to the diner? I’ll tell you everything you want to know.”

“Fine… You better — but wait… does this mean you know Jacob Elordi? They’re best friends, you know! You should introduce me to him if you do…”

“Why do you want to be introduced to Jacob…?”

“ Huh. First name basis… I see… And no reason… no reason at all…”

“That face you’re making is adorable but I don’t trust it.”

“Don’t worry, silly . You’re still my number one crush… Jacob’s just my number two… minus point five. ”

“What?”

“Whooo! Bottomless hot chocolate!”

Aemond joyfully laughs at your attempt to switch the subject, glancing over at you with so much fondness.

You turn on Luvie’s Why to get a rise out of him, but as he listens to the lyrics, he finds himself bopping his head along with the music while thinking about you.

All the love songs tend to do that now.

a.t. 💗 🎵 crosswords · olivia dean

---

As painful as the brunch incident was, it might have been a blessing in disguise.

Aemond has been doing everything to make it up to you — not that you were asking him to do anything. He was just doing it on his own accord. Little things to make you smile.

Which is why Aemond finally agreed to visit his father with you.

You’ve asked him casually a couple times before in the past, but he always declined with some excuse. You never pressed him to explain, realizing he must have a reason. But still, you knew how much his father misses him and the rest of his siblings so you always offered him a choice to accompany you if he ever wanted to.

Today is that day.

On the drive over, you can tell Aemond is uneasy just by a few subtle nuances. You can read Aemond’s mood pretty well by now.

Laying a hand on his lap, you say, “It’s totally fine if you don’t want to go.”

Aemond’s eye flicks over to you for a quick second before it’s back on the road. “I want to. I just… I haven’t seen him in a while, so… I hope it’s not strained. I don’t want to put you between that.”

You hum, understanding. It has been a long time since Aemond visited his father – or talked to him – you don’t exactly know what caused the falling out but you are sure you stopped seeing Aemond or Aegon visit a couple months before you and Aemond started dating.

All you know is that Viserys is very tuned in and joyous whenever you talk about Aemond with him. Acting more like your girlfriends than the girls do, goading for you to tell him more, tell him mor e like the musical Grease.

(You are still trying to forget about how a few days ago, you had been gushing about Aemond to his dad and even thanked him for encouraging you to go to that party that started all this. Throughout your spiel, Viserys had that knowing look on his face and you knew right then that he knew exactly how you feel about Aemond.

It’s so embarrassing. Love is so embarrassing.

So again, you are trying to forget about that.)

Hoping that Viserys won’t bring any of that up, you offer your boyfriend a comforting smile and a light squeeze on his thigh. “I’m sure he’ll just be happy to see you.”

Aemond looks over at you again and instantly loosens up. There should be a study done on how easily you can disarm him with just a simple smile.

Aemond holds your hand tightly as the two of you step up to the door of his father’s home. Mostly to keep you from falling on the ice on the ground since you are quite clumsy, but he also needs you as an anchor to make him feel braver.

You let the both of you inside with your key, his father already knows that the two of you will be visiting.

Inside, you call his father’s name out while you rid yourself of your winter jacket and boots. You slip on your indoor slippers and grab the medical bag from the closet. Might as well do a routine checkup while you are there.

Aemond watches you, looking more at home at his father’s house than he feels. It’s a little backwards, but he does know he is partly at fault. He hasn’t been back here since before this school year started and he’s been dodging all this father’s attempt to speak to him — only answering in stilted very brief texts or through his mother or Helaena. His father doesn’t even know the reason why Aemond became so cold towards him all of the sudden.

It’s complicated.

“Here, let me,” Aemond says after hanging up his coat, taking the medical bag from you. He actually stumbles a little when you hand it over fully, completely taken aback by how heavy it is. He stares at you for a moment in absolute awe.

Gorgeous, intelligent, and strong. Aemond really did get so lucky with you.

“What?” You question, and he shakes his head, looking down to smile to himself.

The conservatory, of course, is where you find Viserys. But when Aemond steps into the room and sees his father sitting by the big windows, he freezes in shock, stomach dropping in unease. The sight of his father now shocks him greatly.

It has only been seven months since Aemond last saw him, and sure that might be more than half a year but Aemond didn’t think it was that long. Not that Viserys was the picture of health all those months ago, but this change is alarming.

Viserys is incredibly frail and thin now, skin a slight jaundice, and almost completely bald with only a few spots of hair left. He is staring out the window, milky eyes serene yet sad.

It takes Viserys a moment to glance over when you call him, but when he does, his mouth breaks into a wide smile when he notices Aemond beside you.

“My boy!” Viserys cries, voice hoarse and weak. “You’re here!”

Aemond takes a hard swallow, an attempt to keep down the bile and guilt threatening to spill out. His breathing shortens, hands clammy and shaky. He wants to turn and run and —

A hand slips to intertwine with his, soft and warm, squeezing his hand three times. He turns his head and meets your sweet gaze and easy smile, comforting beyond belief. As his breathing evens out and his hands become steady, your head tips towards his father, a silent question which he answers with a nod. And so together, you make your way towards the older Targaryen.

“Hello father,” Aemond greets, allowing you to take the medical bag from him so you scrounge through it while he takes his father’s hand to pay him respect.

“I see you’ve been doing well,” Viserys says with a kind smile after Aemond gets on one knee to press the back of his father’s hand onto his forehead.

Standing up straight, Aemond clears his throat again, blinking away the wetness in his eye while he nods. “Yes, I have been… How have you been doing, father?”

“I’ve been doing—” Viserys takes a pause to cough, a hacking sound that makes Aemond cringe, “— well, I could be doing better, if your lovely girlfriend or Samwell will allow me a sweet treat every once in a while.”

Your eyes roll without malice, pricking his finger to check his blood sugar. “Once your blood sugar level lowers then Samwell will let me know if you're allowed anything sweet. But until then… So rry !”

You flash him a toothy smile after you sing-song your apology that makes Viserys laugh. The older man exchanges a look with his son, one of shared fondness for you.

“Aemond, please catch me up! What have you been doing lately? How are classes going? I heard from ____ that you two went to a pottery class a few days ago, how was that?”

While you go through other tests and diagnostics to send to Sam, you allow them to catch up. Aemond was a little wooden with his answers at first, but as time went on, he became more comfortable. Especially when you would throw in a comment or joke here and there that would make the both of them laugh.

In the kitchen, you and Aemond work together to make a quick lunch. You show him his father’s meal plan, Aemond humming in understanding as explain to him the diet and why the food you are making helps. Before you take the food back to the conservatory, Aemond presses a tender kiss on your lips and thanks you for taking care of his father.

After lunch, Viserys challenges Aemond to a game of Cyvasse. Apparently, according to Viserys, Aemond is the only one who has ever come close to beating him. Aemond accepts, warning his father that just because he hasn’t been around, that doesn’t mean he is out of practice. Him, Jon, and Robb have a little competition going on some mobile game app.

Despite said practice, Aemond loses the first two games they play. He didn’t go down easily, though. Both games were some of the most intense games of Cyvasse you’ve ever witnessed. You’ve seen Viserys play against Jon, the security boys (Grenn, Pyp, and Eddison), and Sam; and you believe that Aemond is the only one who has come closest to defeating Viserys.

You had not realized that your boyfriend is so competitive. After he loses the third time, he sets up the board again for another.

This fourth game is going on for a while. The longest Cyvasse game you’ve ever watched, and yet, instead of being bored, you are sat, entranced with the back and forth of wit.

It wasn’t looking good for Aemond, your boyfriend rubbing his temple and sighing deeply during all his turns. Meanwhile, Viserys is sitting straight, serene, like everything is going to plan.

Viserys takes Aemond’s catapult off the board and you think it’s doomed. Judging by the way Aemond narrows his gaze on the board, scrutinizing every move he could make, he is probably thinking the same.

But then suddenly, a smirk lifts the corner of Aemond’s lips.

Slowly, his lithe fingers pick up his dragon and he moves — his eye flashing across to his father, triumph in that lilac gaze, a watch this — knocking over Viserys’ king piece.

Your mouth gapes, stunned. Did that just happen?

You glance between them, hand over your mouth, still unable to comprehend it. It had looked like Viserys was winning from your terrible understanding of the game. Even Aemond looked frustrated just a minute ago. But now…?

Aemond won.

The room is still and silent. Viserys looks dumbfounded, eyes searching the board for where he went wrong.

And then, after a long pause, Viserys breaks into a hearty laugh and proud smile. “Well done, my boy!”

He beckons Aemond over, and when Aemond does, Viserys wraps his arms around him. Aemond startles, hesitant, but slowly and surely, his arms wrap around his father as well.

Aemond peers at you from over Viserys’ shoulder, and you exchange smiles. Then he lets his eye close, burying his face into the crook of his father’s shoulder with a content sigh.

Your hands itch for a pen and paper to immortalize this moment forever.

a.t. 💗 🎵 talking to strangers · maisie peters

---

It is the perfect Saturday night.

Lights down low, your favorite romantic comedy movie on the television screen, food from your favorite restaurant scattered on the coffee table, and you are comfy on the couch, cuddling your favorite — Ghost.

Tonight, you and the direwolf are alone in the apartment, his owner out on a boy’s night . The same boy’s night that your boyfriend is also partaking on.

“So, Robb asked me to hang out with him and the other guys this Saturday.”

Aemond had tried to look cool and collected when he told you, but you could tell he was surprised and happy that he had been invited. It’s cute. You hope they’re having fun.

“But not too much fun. Amiright, Ghost?”

Ghost tilts his head from side to side several times, not understanding you. You giggle, hugging him closer.

You’re sure that the boys are just doing their usual bar hopping — with maybe a trip to the arcade or bowling thrown in. You just hope they don’t scare off or traumatize Aemond with their crazy escapades.

Theon sent you a snap just 15 minutes ago, with all of them in their Uber, singing (screaming) at the top of their lungs to ‘Can't Take My Eyes Off You’ since you told him what movie you were watching. Even their driver — Tormund, per the caption on the snap — was singing along with them. All of them were clearly already wasted to some degree. Though you only see Aemond for a quick second, he looks like he is having fun too, which makes you happy.

take care of my boyfriend or else, greyjoy 🤬

In which, Theon had just replied with:

*gulp* 🥴

You and the girls had a girl’s day earlier that morning as well, but it was much more tamed. Margaery treated you all to this fancy nail place where you can order drinks while getting your nails done. You got your nails painted a nice shade of red since the holidays are coming soon. You can’t wait to show Aemond, he always likes red on you.

It’s during the middle of The Princess Diaries when you hear the struggle outside your front door. You check the time on your phone – 2:03 AM – and assume it must be the boys bringing Jon home.

Pouting that you have to leave Ghost’s warmth, you squeeze him tight before you get up to pad over to the door. It’s clear that whoever is outside is trying to fit the key inside the lock, but isn’t successful with every muffled curse word you hear. Peering through the peephole, you are greeted with Robb’s forehead, so you unlock and open the door.

“Oh, thank Gods,” Robb rejoices, accidentally dropping Jon’s carabiner that holds his keys onto the ground. When he picks it up, that’s when you see Aemond’s holding up Jon behind him. The latter is so drunk he can barely stand on his own.

“Whoa…” You lean against the door, arms crossing, shaking your head at the state of your best friend. “Bowling?”

Jon is notoriously bad at bowling and whenever the boys do their bowling drinking game, it’s the only time Jon comes home absolutely plastered.

“Yup!” Robb proudly answers. “It was me and Aemond against Jon and Theon. Aemond and I won, clearly.”

“Clearly,” You say with a laugh. “Where’s loser #2?”

“He’s in the Uber, which I should get back to before he throws up all over it,” Robb says, handing you Jon’s keys. “It’s a Tesla, ____, and I can’t afford to pay cleaning fines right now after all the gift shopping I’ve done!”

“Alright, go, go!” You urge, and he gives you a quick hug and says his goodbye to Jon and Aemond — let’s do this again soon, lads! — before running off.

“ So… I’m guessing you had fun?” You ask Aemond, opening the door wide enough for him to drag both himself and Jon inside, pressing a kiss on his cheek when he passes by. Aemond hums happily and nods.

“ Uuurghhh… ”

“I wasn’t asking you , Jon. You obviously had too much fun. ”

It was a two person job to take Jon to his bedroom and tuck him into bed, but you and Aemond manage. You leave some Poppyvil and a glass of water on his bedside table before you and Aemond leave him with Ghost climbing up onto his bed.

Sitting at the kitchen table with your boyfriend, you talk softly between one another, telling each other about your day. You show off your pretty new set of nails, which he compliments, taking your hands and kissing each of your fingers. You laugh, realizing that although he isn’t as visibly drunk as Jon and Robb, he still is tipsy enough to do things that he usually wouldn’t do while sober.

During his turn to talk about his night, he takes a pause to hydrate. You watch him with your chin in the palm of your hand, visibly swooning at the sight of him. He is so regal and beautiful, and all he is doing is drinking water. The pretty curve of his neck exposed while his pretty Adam’s apple bobs with every swallow.

But then his head tips back to get what little is left in the cup, and your eyes snap wide open, awoken from your daydreaming.

Because right there, on his left earlobe that was obscured by his gorgeous silvery hair until this very moment, is a small silver hoop earring.

You gasp out loud, standing up from the chair swiftly while pointing at it. “What is that?!”

Aemond jumps slightly at your sudden exclamation, touching where you are pointing, then he laughs sheepishly as he remembers. So many things happened during the boy’s night that he almost forgot about it. “Oh, this…? Well, you see… the boys said they were all planning on getting one, and that I didn’t have to… But then Theon said that someone… well, nevermind — why? Does it look awful?”

You take a step towards him, fitting yourself in between his legs. Aemond naturally makes room for you, pleased to finally be so close to you after the whole day of being without.

From this close, you are able to fully admire his new piercing. The silver matches well with his undertone, you think as you gently trace the curvature of his ear, careful not to touch the still sensitive lobe.

He was already so unbelievably beautiful before, but now…

“Aemond, I’m sorry… I don’t think I can do this,” you say, voice low yet full of feelings, dramatic as you shake your head and your face crumples. Instantly concerned, Aemond quickly searches your face, putting his hands on your waist and pulling you toward him. He murmurs a soft and adorably confused darling, what are you…? but you continue, “I have very weak muscles. I can’t fight for my life. I mean, I’ll obviously try — I really will! But…”

You place your hands on both sides of his shoulders, sensually massaging down towards his chest and up again. Aemond’s eye goes wide, taking a hard swallow. “I don’t know if I can win against everyone who’s gonna go after you now that you have that piercing. Like, you were already hot before, but now you are downright criminally hot. I can’t fight, Aemond,” you lean down, whispering sultrily into his ear, “What if I don’t win?”

You feel his whole body shivering, his hands on you clutches tighter. “You have no competition. You’ll always win with me.”

“ Yeah…? ” You question softly, smirking with glee.

Aemond takes your chin gently between his fingers and turns your head toward him. The way he is looking at you has your heart beating incredibly fast. There is that twinkle in his eye that lets you believe that you can trust everything he says to you, that he will never lead you astray.

“Yes,” Aemond murmurs as he moves to hover his mouth over yours, his thumb tracing your jaw. “It’s only ever going to be you.”

He closes the space between you, kissing you hard and slow. His hand wraps around your neck, causing you to gasp softly which allows for Aemond to slip his tongue inside your mouth. It escalates after that, Aemond licking in your mouth with a moan, prying away for a moment just to catch your mouth at a different angle. Breaking apart then meeting over and over and over again.

Aemond tries to pull you into his lap, to get you going on his thigh like he knows you love to do, but you push away from him gently with a soft laugh. He pouts up at you, and you just shake your head.

“I wanna do something for you,” you whisper to him, turning his head to the side to press a sloppy kiss on his neck, just under his newly pierced earlobe.

“What—” Aemond cuts himself off with a choked groan, your knee rubbing over the growing bulge in his pants. His reaction has you giggling as you kiss down his neck.

His heavy lidded eye watches as you go down onto your knees, slow , with your hips swaying from side to side. Your hands are on his body the entire time, caressing down too.

A dance just for him, and he is captivated by it.

When your knees press against the wooden floor, you make Aemond spread his leg wider for you. Rubbing back and forth along his thighs, you deliberately avoid where he really wants to feel your touch.

“I wanna make you feel good,” you say with a lick of your lips.

Aemond squirms in his seat, clearly already pent up. “Sweetheart…”

This is supposed to be a treat, so you don’t tease him any further, unbuckling his belt and unzipping his pants effortlessly. Aemond lifts his hips, enabling you to pull his pants and boxer briefs down just below his knees, his length flopping up to his stomach.

You take him in your hand. Perfectly red nails wrapped around his flushed red, aching cock.

It’s a pretty sight, and you believe Aemond thinks so too, judging by the way he twitches in the palm of your hand, the tip of his cockhead oozing pre.

As soon as you start to stroke him, Aemond moans out loud, causing you to stop immediately. Brows drawing together in confusion, he whimpers like a wounded puppy, but you just press a finger to your smirking lips. “You have to keep quiet, Aemond. We can’t wake Jon or Ghost up,” slowly, using his precum to make your movements smoother, you begin to stroke him again, “Can you keep quiet for me, baby?"

Biting down hard on his bottom lip, Aemond only nods. Keeping quiet like he just promised.

Aemond is doing such a good job. Even when you start to play with his heavy balls — kneading and rolling it against your other palm — he doesn’t make a single sound. He is leaking profusely now, your hand dripping with him.

Fluttering your eyes up at him, you lean forward to kitten lick his spend trailing down the back of your hand still wrapped around his cock, and Aemond has to close his eye and pray to not say anything. A praise for you bitten at the tip of his tongue.

Noting the way he is struggling to keep quiet, you pump his shaft a few more times before you squeeze him tight just around the base. This causes his hip to thrust forward, his fist flying up so he can bite down on his knuckles.

“Baby,” you murmur, and Aemond opens his eye gradually, peering down at you. His chest is expanding greatly, breathing heavily. Your head turns sideways, sucking and kissing along the thickest vein on his cock, then ending with a broad lick around his tip. “Guide me, okay? Want to make it feel so good for you.”

Aemond nods, resting his hand on the back of your head, watching as you lower your mouth to his cock. The sheer size of him used to intimidate you, but you’ve had him down your throat enough times now that you know you can take him quite well.

Aemond shivers as your lips wrap around him, humming on your descent down. He tenderly tucks your hair behind your ear, getting a better look of himself disappearing inside your pretty mouth.

As your hot saliva coats him, the way you are hollowing your cheeks feels too good. His hand grips tight onto the back of your head, unable to stop himself from pushing your head deeper down on his cock. Soon, his tip hits the back of your throat, and you gag around him but he doesn’t let up — he is not fully inside yet. You are not giving up either, tapping your finger on his thigh to let him know you are capable of taking more.

He pulls you back a little, then he pushes you forward again, this time your nose is brushing into the hair around the base of his shaft and your mouth is stuffed full entirely of him. You swallow multiple times around him, your throat feeling the way he throbs and twitches uncontrollably.

Then he lets go of the back of your head, grinning down at you, allowing you to do your worst. You get sloppy with it, drool dripping all over his cock as you deepthroat him until he is becoming even more and more sensitive, his release coming soon.

Aemond can’t hold back anymore — a loud panting moan falling out of his thoroughly bitten lips.

You glance up — and if you weren’t already choking on his cock or had tears in your eyes, you definitely will have now.

The golden glow of shitty kitchen light serves as a divine halo around Aemond. With his head tipped back, mouth wide open in a muted moan, the silver of the piercing shining brilliantly — he looks like an angel.

Aemond comes beautifully, he always does.

You pull back enough for his cock to lay on your tongue, letting him shoot his load into your mouth. He softens on your tongue before you completely move away, and he watches as you swallow down his tangy taste without any complaint. Even wiping your messy mouth with a satisfied smile.

Aemond pulls you up to him, and you sit to the side on his lap while your hands intertwine behind his neck.

“Your turn,” Aemond says as his heated mouth finds yours.

You shake your head, giggling as he kisses along your jawline. “Nuh-uh, I’m tired. It’s like 3 AM, Aemond.”

“But—”

It is frantic scratching on a door and whimpering that pulls the two of you away from each other.

Alarmed, you meet each other's gaze.

Oh, no… You woke up Ghost. He is probably worried about all the noises he is hearing. Poor baby.

“Let’s let him out, calm him down, and then go to bed.”

“Right, Okay.”

“Aemond! Put your dick back in your pants first!”

“Shit, right!”

You laugh, kissing him while he does just that.

a.t. 💗 🎵 heart out · the 1975

---

Aemond has been visiting his father a lot lately. At least three times a week. Most of the time with you but there were some days he actually went on his own.

It’s strange, but nice. It feels like he is getting to know his father again. Repairing their relationship that his father had no idea was broken in the first place.

So when he gets a call from Viserys, asking him to come by with just him, Aemond gives him his word that he’ll be there after his last class of the day.

The last class ended up being canceled so he arrives at his father’s mansion earlier than expected, pulling up at the same time as his father’s nurse, Samwell.

“Hello Samwell,” Aemond greets with a nod, as they walk up the path together.

“Oh, hi Aemond!” Sam exclaims with glee. “It’s nice to see you around here again!”

“Yeah, it is,” Aemond smiles, helping Sam with the packages left out on the front door. While Sam unlocks the door, Aemond shifts from one foot to the other, pursing his lips to the side. “Can I ask you something?”

Entering the house together, and scuffing off the snow on the soles of their boots, Sam nods at Aemond. “Of course!”

Aemond takes a shallow breath. “How do you think he’s doing? Anything I should be concerned about?”

Samwell frowns, taking a moment to figure out how to say what he is going to say next. “To be honest, Aemond, he could be doing better. I’m actually here because the doctors are concerned about the numbers ___ sent us yesterday. They’re not so bad that it warrants an immediate visit to the hospital, but they are preparing a room for him to stay after his bi-weekly visit on Friday.”

Aemond hums, frowning. That doesn’t sound good.

Aemond follows Samwell around to look for his father, but they don’t find him in any of his usual spots. The conservatory, the living area, the kitchen, his bedroom — all empty.

It makes Aemond really nervous. Luckily Sam is there and he is more levelheaded. “Let’s split up. I’ll tackle upstairs and you check the other rooms on this floor, okay?”

They quickly get to work. Every room Aemond finds empty has dread running down his spine.

Where is he? Where is he? Where is he?

“Found him!” He hears Samwell cheerily call from somewhere on the second floor, allowing Aemond to let out a breath of relief.

Aemond climbs up the stairs, three steps at a time. He calls out, and when Samwell answers, he follows his voice.

He finds himself standing in front of an open door to a room that he has only been into once before.

Because it’s Aemma’s art room, Viserys’ first wife.

Inside, he can see Samwell already tending to his father, but Aemond stands there, not knowing what to do. It wasn’t forbidden for him to go in there, but it was a taboo between him and his siblings. And it seems that those made up rules are still ingrained in his head.

Because Aemma is the reason his father didn’t fully love his mother. Aemma is the reason his father didn’t love him or his other siblings. Aemma is the reason for the divorce. And Aemma is part of the reason for the will that he and Aegon found in the beginning of summer.

At least that was what they were all made to believe.

“Aemond, get over here,” Samwell beckons him over. Aemond sees his father wave to him weakly, smile weak as well, and so he swiftly walks towards where Viserys is sitting in front of an unfinished painting on an easel. A painting that hasn’t been worked on for 27 years.

“Are you well, father? Should we take you to the hospital?”

Visersy shakes his head. “No, no… I am fine. But can you…” He shakily points to another chair close by, “... bring that chair closer and sit down for me, please?”

Aemond does as he is told, settling down on the chair right in front of his father.

“I have something for you,” Viserys begins. Meanwhile Samwell is busy around them, doing all the things necessary for his job, his father is used to it so he continues, “Do you see that box over there?”

Aemond looks over to where his father is pointing and spies a small dark blue velvet box on the ledge of the easel.

“Can you grab it?”

Aemond reaches over, stretching out his arm and is able to grab hold of the box without moving from his chair.

Then Viserys urges him to open it with a smile, and so Aemond lifts open the box and what he sees has his brows narrowing together, unable to comprehend why it is in his hands.

It’s a ring — but that’s not what has him so confused.

Aemond knows what this opulent sapphire ring is. There are too many pictures of Aemma Targaryen around the mansion to not know.

“This is the highly-coveted Targaryan engagement ring, it’s been in our family for thousands and thousands of years… And I want you to have it, Aemond.”

Glancing up at his father, still confused, Aemond presses, “But… why?”

“I hope you don’t find it disrespectful, Aemond. I know it’s strange to give you a ring that was the engagement ring that I gave to a woman that wasn’t your mother. But it’s a family heirloom, and I always knew it was going to be passed down to one of my children to give to the person that they fall in love with — and I hope I am not being presumptuous to think that you are in love with ___, and I’m not pressuring you to be—”

“It’s alright,” Aemond cuts him off with a soft smile. “I am… I am in love with her.”

It’s cathartic to finally say it out loud. Now that he has done it, he wants the whole world to know.

He and his father share a look, his father appears to be so happy for him.

But wait—

“You want me to ask her to marry me?” Aemond questions, eye widening in bewilderment.

“No, no!” Viserys shakes his head, laughing. “Not if you’re not ready! You can do it whenever it feels right for you two — if it ever feels right… I know feelings can change, and all that…”

“I don’t think my feelings for her will ever change,” Aemond says, so sure of it. “But I’m not sure we’re quite ready for that yet. We both still have college to finish…”

Viserys nods, understanding. “I still want you to keep it. Even if you want to buy her a different ring, or how you youths these days don’t even find the point in marriage…” He stops to laugh, and even Samwell chuckles a bit, “You can hand it down to your children.”

“Thank you, father…” Aemond murmurs, glancing down at the ring. In his head, he imagines himself giving it to you during some grand gesture— and then another during a small one. Many different scenarios drift though his vivid imagination, and each one feels right. The ring on your dainty finger would look so right. It’s meant for you.

“Just one condition…” His father holds out his shaky hand, and Aemond cocks his head, questioning. “I get to have a front row seat… and Samwell too, along with his wife, Gilly.”

Aemond laughs, nodding along as he takes his father’s hand to shake on it. “Alright. I think ___ will also agree to that.”

“Fantastic! Gilly loves weddings!” Samwell comments, overhearing the deal.

Aemond and father talk a while more, until Samwell wraps up.

“Okay, lunch time!” Samwell announces. “Aemond, would you like to give me a hand?”

“Of course.”

But the two of them don’t even make it out the door before they hear hacking and rough coughing behind them.

Aemond turns, just in time to witness his father falling, hitting his head hard against the floor. His body convulses after the impact, moving erratically.

Something is not right.

Aemond pales, blood rushing to head, feeling faint.

Is this really happening? This cannot be happening.

Samwell rushes past him to attend to his father.

Meanwhile, Aemond stands there and stares.

Horrified and frozen.

#aemond targaryen x reader #aemond x reader #aemond smut #aemond targaryen smut #hotd imagine #hotd smut #aemond #aemond targaryen #hotd

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songbirdseung · 1 day

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dwba / yang jungwon

synopsis: you keep listening to the same song, making your boyfriend very concerned and worried that you are trying to say something, jungwon version for @laylasbunbunny

pairing: yang jungwon x reader, established relationship

warnings: a little angsty, crying, relationship troubles, hint of breakups

wc: 948

Everyone perceived you and Jungwon to be the picture-perfect couple, bound to last forever, and a match made in heaven. With the way you two handle issues and conflict maturely and go through life, hand in hand, side by side. It was weird for the rest of Enhypen to walk into the dorm, being met with a stressed Jungwon sitting on the couch with his face in his hands.

A week ago, you and Jungwon fell into a misunderstanding. Unlike solving it like you both usually do, this time; things were just to heavy and needed to be thought upon before making any decisions that you both might regret.

By doing so, in your self loathing time; you were indulging and basking in the moment that you don't get to experience so often, you play music to accompany you, alongside with your tears and dirty tissues.

"The lyrics are 'So, I take my time to self-soothe', not self loathing"

Placing down a new tissue box for you, your sister also offers a shoulder to cry on. The assumption that you had of you crying silently was wrong, since your sister told you how she could hear you sobbing from outside the house. An exaggeration just to hopefully get you to laugh.

While it did get you to chuckle, a few block down, your boyfriend was not.

Jungwon just got back from a busy day filled with dance practices, recordings, and content filming. But not having to be in contact with you for over a week, distracted his senses and or mind to even realize that his body was in total fatigue.

Now, sitting on the couch, regretting the decision to allow you both to sit this one out and to not fix it right away. Slumping on the couch, thinking why on earth did he agree that it was the right idea to let you out of his sight. Sluggishly reaching over to his bag and fetching out his phone to open the contacts, he's hesitant to call you.

After a few minutes, he still in the same position, has yet to call you or even get up to wash up and rest to repeat the same day tomorrow.

His thoughts were interrupted for a second when he heard the door open, but immediately went back to the depths of regret. His members slowly make their way inside, spotting the young one.

"Jungwon? you good?" Jake inquires as he steps closer to the couch, standing behind Jungwon, patting him on the head.

"Does he look good to you, idiot?" A chuckle follows after Jay replies to Jake's not so smart question. The rest follows pursuit except Jungwon. Once they realized that, they finally understood that this was serious. They all huddle up on the couch and try to talk some sense into their leader.

Soon later, with enough convincing, Jungwon is up and running to your place. Flowers in hand with your favorite snacks in a bag. Eventually with successfully saving himself from tripping over things, he's at your door, hopeful that he'll succeed again with fixing things with you.

He knocks on the door and your sister opens the door. She offers him a small smile, a hug with a good luck. Giving him a little more confidence that he needed. He makes his way upstairs to your room and from outside the door, he hears your sweet voice that he missed so much. He loves to hear you sing and he always jokes how you could steal his job. But this time, he isn't that pleased to hear you sing lyrics that are making him question that you hate him at this point.

He stands there, in denial. As he hears you sing the next song. He's thinking how the titles and message of the songs casually just goes along with the predicament you both are in with your relationship.

I don't wanna fuck with your head It's breaking my heart To keep breaking yours again

Taking in a deep breath and exhaling, he takes hold of the doorknob and slowly opens the door. Being met by your back facing him as you sit on your bed with your speaker blasting 'Don't Want to Break up Again' by Ariana Grande. You don't even notice the new presence in your room as you switch the song after it ended.

If the sun refused to shine Baby, would I still be your lover? Would you want me there?

Again, he loves you singing but as you sing along to the lyrics with tears streaming down your face, he's not the happiest guy right now.

"Yes, you'll always be my lover" finally mustered up the courage to interrupt your mini concert to your plushies. You wipe your eyes, making sure that you're not hallucinating and Jungwon was actually sitting down next to you. "Are your songs trying to tell me something?" He jokes while cleaning up your face, wiping away the tears that can't seem to stop from flowing out your eyes.

After calming down a little, you explain how you were just in your feels and wanted to sing the pain away. Jungwon nods but couldn't help to call you dramatic in a joking manner, no harm intended whatsoever. You nudge him and rebuttal.

"For a second there I thought you were gonna break up with me"

Taken a back, you start asking him why you would ever end the relationship that you loved being in for almost 2 years now. He replies with how your music choice is making uneasy.

"Oh, you don't listen to sad songs when you're sad?"

"No, cause Ni-ki would make fun of me"

#enhypen #enhypen imagines #enhypen au #engene #enha #enhypen x reader #jungwon #yang jungwon #jungwon fluff #jungwon x reader #jungwon enhypen #enhypen jungwon #yang jungwon x you #yang jungwon imagines

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silken-moonlight · 2 days

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The stag fae

A/N: I love the fae folk. I had this little idea while walking my dogs in the forest. This will maybe get a part two. I hope you like it! - Moon/Swan

Imagine taking a little stroll through the woods, wearing a pretty dress and perhaps taking some pictures. You walk alongside a small river, deciding to bathe your feet. You wade through the water, just being happy.

Suddenly, on the deeper end of the water, you see a stag trying to swim to safety, but it seems exhausted and unable to escape the flow. Without a second thought, you rush after it, but the stream grips you, pulling you underwater. You swim for your life and see the stag. You grip it. Placing its head on your shoulder, the antlers caught your hear and poked your skin. Finally you get hold of a branch, finally able to get the two of you out of there.

You never let go of the stag for even a moment, whispering, "We're going to be okay..." as you tried to get the both of you to a shallower area. Your arms hurt, you were cold, but somehow you managed to keep going and dragged both of you to where you could both stand. You waded out of the water, both collapsing onto the riverbed. Before you knew it, you fell unconscious. Everything turning to black...

When you woke up again, you were in a bed. Everything Was hurting. But you were not cold anymore. Had somebody found you? What about the stag? Poor thing must have been so scared and exhausted. Slowly you sat up and looked around.

"Wife! You have awoken! No, no, you have to rest..." A voice said, and suddenly a man came into your sight. You blinked many times to see if your eyes were betraying you. The man in front of you had antlers. Antlers. Surely you must be mistaken, and it's some sort of headband. You didn't even hear what he said. He took that as a good sign and was at your side. Grabbing a wooden cup and bringing it to your lips:"Drink drink...." You obeyed, realising how dry your throat was.

"Where is the stag…?" you asked in a hoarse voice. The man grinned. "That's me! You saved me! Now you will be my wife. Nothing else could prove your love for me more than jumping into the river and risking your life. I am so happy to have a wife like you!" You stared at him in absolute disbelief. "You're...you're kidding me," you said. He chuckled, sitting down on the bed as you backed away. "Silly human...I am not." You stared at him, in shook and confusion.

"May I have your name?" he asked sweetly. "M-my name is Y/N..." you answered, unaware that you had just given away any possibility of escape. He chuckled even more now. "You're mine, forever. Has nobody taught you to be wary of the far folk?" You stared at him in utter disbelief. "Fae?" you asked, finally wrapping your mind around it.

"Fae, fair folk, wandering people... We have many names... I am a wood fae. I take the form of a stag. And now that you have given me your name, you will be mine forever." He whispered sweetly as he grabbed your hand and kissed your palm. You quickly understood that you were in a very difficult situation. You knew a few things about the fae, remembering what you had read in your childhood.

It did not help that he was strangely attractive, and that he smelled so good....also your partner had broken up with you just a week ago....and you hated your job....maybe you should stay? Or was this the fae influence making you think this?

#faerie #fae fucker #fae x reader #monster boyfriend #monster fucker #monster lover #monster romance #monsterlover #fae

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masterqwertster · 7 hours

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You know, Laudna never did actually apologize to Orym. Not a single "sorry" or "I apologize" out of her mouth. Just the repeated mantra of "I didn't mean to."

Girl, that is not an apology. That is a flimsy ass excuse.

You didn't mean to hit Orym with your spell. Sure. But you did mean to steal from him and feed the stolen goods to the necromancer everyone hates behind everyone's back. You know, secret power acquisition like what you got super pissed at Ashton for doing not even a week ago in-game.

And Laudna knew she was in the wrong. It's why she cast Darkness to try and be sneaky about stealing Ishta. They can't know she betrayed the group's trust if they can't see her do it.

It's just... god, Imogen needs to confront Laudna about listening and giving in to Delilah all the time now. And it has to be Imogen because Laudna doesn't listen to any of the others for stuff like that. Couldn't even follow through on Ashton asking her to apologize for hurting Orym, unintentional as it was.

Don't get me wrong, it's all juicy. But Laudna is deluding herself so hard on being in the right for what she did. And yes, I saw Cooldown and the off-the-bandwagon addict comparison.

#mq cr watch #critical role #cr spoilers #c3e95 #laudna

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jungkooks-wife · 3 days

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Baby Fever

paring: mingi x pregnant¡fem¡reader

genre: fluff

ꨄ

A/N: This was requested and i’m so happy someone requested it!! — i forgot my tumblr psw when i got a new phone but IM BACK INA BUILDIN.

It already Monday morning. And you HATE Monday mornings. You look at the time on your bedside clock “5;55” you didn’t even feel like getting up but you had an appointment today.

Now your appointments are every week instead of every 2 weeks mainly monday. Which is why you dislike monday, the long process of sitting in the doctors for what felt like hours. But of course you did it for your baby girl.

You lean up as you dreadfully make your way to the bathroom to do your morningly things. As you turn on the shower water you feel someone creep behind you. Not just anyone though your beautiful fiancée. You turn around as you look at him face to face.

“Good morning baby” you say to mingi as he caresses your stomach.

“Good morning Beautiful, and good morning to my baby.” mingi says as leans down and kisses your baby bump.

You blush a little at his action. He quickly notices and pecks you on the lips.

“m gonna shower mingi you wanna join?” you ask him

“Nope, I have a little surprise for you once you get out.” he says as he winks at you.

You blush at his words once again, as he pecks you on your temple. You quickly get undressed as you hop in the shower. The Warm water hitting your back, during which you wash and massage your hair.

Mingi really loves the shampoo you use. So you are literally obsessed with it. Just as you’re getting out the shower you feel a kick in your stomach, and you groan at the pain. You realized your water may have broke?

But your not to sure if your water broke or if it’s the water running down your body from the shower. But the thought was answered for you as you start feeling sharp pains. You quickly throw your clothes on.

You groan loudly, if not a scream and you could hear mingi running into the bathroom.

“Y/N, Are you ok? What’s going on? Is the baby coming?” mingi says in confused but with worried expression.

“Mingi i need to go to the hospital NOW.” you tell him as you hold your stomach in pain.

He picks you up in his arms and carries you to the car, you already packed your baby things incase of in emergency like this.

He speeds through cars as you’re on your way to the hospital, and you’re still groaning in pain, mingi keeps glancing at you to make sure you’re okay.

“mingi keep you’re eyes on the road, im fine baby” you say worried at his driving actions.

He doesn’t say anything he listens to you and keeps his eyes on the road sneaking a glance once and then.

Once you make it to the hospital, he quickly runs and grabs a wheelchair with the baby bag on his back. Rushing you into the ER.

“Her water broke she’s about to have THE BABY NOW.” he screams at the receptionist. She quickly calls a doctor who takes you to your room.

“Are you the father?” the doctor asks.

“yes” he says with a worried look on his face.

“when did her water break?” the nurse asks curiously.

“just about 2 hours ago” mingi says.

“She’s 6cm dilated, we going to go ahead and give her the epidural” the doctor quickly tells him.

“Okay” he says as he colds your hands.

2 HRS LATER

you’re welcoming your baby girl, song mi cha.

#fluff #mingi x y/n #mingi fluff #mingi fic #ateez mingi #mingi scenarios #mingi x reader #song mingi #mingi x you #pregnant #pregnancy

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aeridigital · 2 days

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Frio - BangChan

pairing ex!chan x fem!reader

genere angst w happy(? ending

warnings brakeup, unconfirmed infidelity

w.count 0.3k

synopsis after what was a warm love, you feel like Chan freezes your heart and everything around you, only to then find that summer season you longed for so much to arrive.

note okay so... this is my first time writing a drabble so Idk how well or badly I did, but it's worth mentioning that I was inspired by the song 'Frio' by Nicki Nicole to write this. I hope you like it.

It's been 3 months and I still don't understand how you could forget all the promises you made to me. I still can't believe that all the sweet words you said to me were nothing but empty words.

"I would give my life for you."

Why would you tell me that if at the end of the day it was someone else you preferred?

"But what about all the promises you made to me, Christopher? What about all the I love you's you said to me on those winter nights we spent together?"

"I'm sorry... I wish I could have kept all those promises, but I simply can't anymore. I can't continue pretending all my feelings towards you."

I can't help but repeat your words in my head over and over again, being alone with myself in what used to be our room, but now it's just a cold room, like any other.

It's been 5 months since you left, summer never returned, you took the summer with you and left me in eternal winter. My days are all the same, my friends keep telling me it's time for me to forget about you, and partly they're right because it's not fair for me to still be here suffering for what we once were while you're already in another woman's arms, giving her your warmth and making her forget about the cold outside.

"Oh my god, how can it be that even under the blankets I'm still cold?!"

"That's because you're not here cuddled up with me."

I still remember those beautiful moments, and I wonder if you'll say the same to her, will you give her that same smile you gave me when you said those words? I hate the fact that you're no longer near me but still hurting me, I wish I could erase all those memories or at least not cry every time they come to my mind. I hope that day comes soon.

It's been 7 months and today for the first time the memories I had of you were not of your sweet words or your false promises, but I remembered all the times you came home late, the times you said you were with your friends or that you were at work.

"It's 5 in the morning, Christopher, why are you coming home at this hour?"

"Oh please, you know work always keeps me busy."

"Well, at least a message letting me know that you weren't going to make it to the dinner we planned two weeks ago with our families would have been nice."

I still remember that you didn't even say "I'm sorry" that day, you couldn't even apologize to your parents, but now I know that work was just an excuse to no longer be by my side, you just wanted an excuse to spend your time with her and away from me. But now I can say that I would prefer to live in this winter a thousand times over than in the hell I lived with you.

I don't count the months anymore, my life is no longer a routine and I finally managed to leave those four walls that made me feel so suffocated. I went out after a long time and I met your mom, and even though for a moment I thought I was going to hate her and not want to talk to her again, I understood that it's not her fault that you were so bad to me.

Now I can move on with my life and leave you in the past, now I can look at myself in the mirror and smile at seeing myself in it, now I can be alone with myself and think only of me and the summer that awaits me.

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violetspots1 · 3 days

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Part 2 to that Welcome Home Incorrect Quotes post I made, like, a year ago. Wow how productive of me.

Poppy: Good morning.

Julie: Good morning.

Eddie: Good morning.

Barnaby: You all sound like robots, try spicing it up a bit.

Sally: MORNING MOTHERFUCKERS!

Barnaby, holding in their laughter: Hey, how do you ask a glass of water what it’s doing?

Frank: A glass of water is an inanimate object. Therefore, it's incapable of having a thought process or understanding basic human language.

Barnaby:

Barnaby: Water you doing?

Julie, peeling a banana: May I take your jacket, sir? Hahahaha.

Frank: Do you think other people can’t hear you?

Wally: Good. Thanks, dad.

Poppy: You just called Eddie “dad”. You just said “thanks, dad.”

Wally: What? No, I didn’t. I said “thanks, man”.

Eddie: Do you see me as a father figure, Wally?

Wally: No. If anything I see you as a bother figure ‘cause you’re always bothering me.

Howdy: Hey! Show your father some respect!

Howdy: *on the phone* Just snap his kneecaps and he’ll talk, I’m at a parent teacher conference.

Howdy: Anyways, you said Wally is enjoying finger painting! That's great.

Eddie: Shouldn't get stressed out, it's not good for the baby.

Wally: What baby?

Eddie, crying a bit: Me.

Wally: The shadow realm? No, I’m sending you to Ohio!

Howdy: Well, if you're not at least a little bit gay for your friends, then what kind of friend are you?

Frank, looking at a selfie of Wally's: I hate this photo.

Wally: I’m cute as fuck in that photo! I’m smiling kindly.

Frank: You’re not smiling kindly; you look like you’re up to something.

Wally: Up to kindness.

*at a zoo*

Julie: What are they in for?

Frank: Julie, this isn't prison.

Julie: So they can leave?

Frank: No, but-

Julie, pointing at a meerkat: I bet that one murdered someone.

Poppy: Fine! Judge all you want but...

Poppy, points at Sally: Married a lesbian.

Poppy, points at Julie: Left a man at the altar.

Poppy, points at Wally: Fell in love with a gay ice dancer.

Poppy, points at Barnaby: Threw a girl’s wooden leg in a fire.

Poppy, points at Howdy: Lives in a box!

Julie: Frank and I are so close we even share a toothbrush.

Frank: We what?

Wally: I never tell people off the bat that I'm gay. I wait. I wait until they say some homophobic shit and then I laugh and am like "you know I'm gay right?" and watch the look of terror on their face.

Barnaby:

Barnaby: I like you.

Eddie: I think I'm falling for you.

Frank: Then get up.

Julie: Why do you act like we’re three year olds?

Frank, exasperated: WHY?!?

Frank points at Barnaby: YOU TRIED TO HYJACK A CAR!

Frank points at Wally: YOU NEARLY JUMPED 20 FEET OFF A CARPARK!

Frank points at Julie: AND YOU ATE MULTIPLE DRIED LEAVES AND ROCKS OFF THE GROUND!

Frank: AND YOU ASK ME WHY????

Howdy: Just a minute. I need to go take out the trash.

Frank: Oh. We're going out?

Howdy: Wh…

Wally: *gets set on fire and screams in agony*

Wally: Nah, I’m just kidding. Fire does nothing to me.

Sally: I need 28 lightbulbs for 28 ducks.

Howdy: Ducks can’t eat lightbulbs?

Barnaby: I think that’s the point.

Sally: Exactly. I want my ducks to glow so I can find them.

Julie: Wasn't icarly that guy that girlbossed too close to the sun because he was down for Apollo?

Frank: ICARUS?

*at an awards show*

Poppy: Can I carry you on my back like Eddie did?

Wally: I don't think Barnaby would like that.

Poppy: *pouts*

*Later*

Poppy: *carrying Wally on their back*

Barnaby: What the hell??

Wally: What was I supposed to do? Say no?

Frank: I have very high standards, you know.

Eddie: I can make spaghetti...

Frank: Oh no! You're meeting all my standards!

Wally: I’ve been here in jail so long I think I’ve lost my mind.

Wally: The days turn into weeks, weeks turn into months.

Wally: How long have I been in here now? Almost a year?

Barnaby: This is Monopoly.

Wally: Could you guys at least try to see this from my perspective?

Barnaby: *crouches down*

Frank: *kneels down*

Poppy: *sits on the floor*

Wally:

Wally: I hate all of you.

*Sally is crying after a breakup*

Eddie: There there, Sally.

Sally, still crying: Thanks, but how did you get into my room?

Eddie: Great question—

Barnaby, knocking on the door: Howdy, open up!

Howdy: It all started when I was a kid.

Barnaby: That’s not what I-

Sally: Let them finish!

Julie, on a random band name generator: Oooo! They Might Be Depressed Horses! That about sums up my friend group.

Julie: War is heck!

Sally: What’s it like being tall?

Sally: Is it nice?

Sally: Can you reach comfortably for the cupboards?

Poppy: We live in constant fear of the short ones who, in my experience, will climb 4 chairs, 2 boxes, a small coffee table and 6 oddly placed stools to get what they want.

Wally: It was one time!

Howdy: Last night I found out Barnaby is a sleep talker.

Poppy: Oh, really?

Howdy: "The mitochondria is the powerhouse of the cell." Right. In. My. Ear. At 3am.

Wally: Wakey Wakey Eggs and Bakey!

Poppy: But I'm a vegan.

Wally: Wakey Wakey Vegetables and Sadness.

Howdy: Imagine if someone handed you a box full of all the things you lost throughout your life.

Sally: It would be nice to have my sense of purpose back...

Julie: Oh wow, my childhood innocence! Thank you for finding this.

Eddie: My will to live! I haven't seen this in years.

Barnaby: I knew I lost that potential somewhere.

Wally: Mental stability, my old friend!

Howdy: Jesus, could you guys lighten up a little?

Frank, looking over Wally’s shoulder: You can draw?

Wally, stopping what they were doing: You can speak?

Wally, near tears: Please, Neighbor, I don’t speak meme! I don't know what a 'yeet' is!

Julie: A party is a celebration of a life, bringing people together to let the guest of honor know how much they’re loved. Frank has done so much for us. This is our chance to do something for them.

Eddie: By forcing them to have fun at a party that they don’t want to be at?

Julie: I knew you’d understand.

Wally: Julie noticed only today that they can label their email inboxes, but they took apart their entire bloody laptop two weeks ago.

Sally: This reminds me of the Julie who couldn’t turn on the coffee maker, but remembers about 500 digits of pi.

Wally: I’ll be delighted to inform you that this is the very same Julie.

Julie: What do I get?

Sally: A night of fashion, mischief, mayhem, and possible death.

Julie: Ooh, check, check, and check; not sure about that last one.

Sally: It won't be you.

Julie: I'll get my coat.

Wally: My crush isn’t picking up on my hints.

Barnaby: What hints have you given them?

Wally: Well, I think about them a lot.

Wally: And sometimes I even think about talking to them.

Poppy: Don’t worry, I know exactly what I’m doing. Everything is going to be fine!

Julie: How can you still say that?

Poppy: Because sometimes, when things get tough, denial is all we have.

Julie: If you spell skeletons backwards, it still spells skeletons.

Barnaby, deadpan: Wow, I can't wait for Halloween to see some snoteleks.

Wally: I'm not a morning person. I'm barely even a person.

Julie, holding a scooter: Poppy! Can I go outside and play with this?

Poppy: Sure, whatever. I'm not your parent, okay?

Julie, running outside: Thanks Poppy!

Poppy, running out after them and screaming: NOT ON THE STREET! STAY AWAY!

Sally: ....Thou shalt not marry each other, for thy art both sinful...

Frank: I just wanna fucking marry Eddie!!

Eddie: My life is a little too much panic and not enough disco.

Julie: My life is a little too much fall and not enough boy.

Wally: My life is a little too much chemical and not enough romance.

Sally: My life is a little too much imagination and not nearly enough dragons.

Frank: Fuck capitalism. It's a rigged system that keeps us poor and it isn't fair. You shouldn't need to work three jobs to afford basic necessities.

Frank, playing Monopoly: Sorry, if you wanted to win you should have tried not being poor.

I did it :D

#welcome home #wally darling #barnaby b beagle #julie joyful #frank frankly #sally starlet #eddie dear #howdy pillar #poppy partridge #incorrect quotes

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petew21-blog · 16 hours

Note

Could you do an Andrew Garfield and Tom Holland body swap

Friendly neighborhood Peter

Andrew P.OV.

We have just finished the last of the promon pictures for our new upcoming movie for Marvel. What a great and nostalgic ride that was. It has been years since I last wore this costume on set and I have to say I miss it. It makes me sad that some stupid conflict many years ago ended our third movie, which could've been amazing.

Tobey has left to meet with Kirsten. Me and Tom were left alone together to chat about our lives. What a great kid, he's so talented. It's hard for me to admit that, but I envy him. The attention is nice, I won't deny that, but I just loved making those movies. I would do anything to trade with him. Does that sound mad? Sorry. Another daydreaming episode. I have to think about my own life again now.

Tom's P.O.V.

I want to stay here and talk to Andrew about acting and working as an actor for the role of Spider-man. I truly do. But I am already nervous about all the paparazzi out there. Recently they have made my life horrible. I haven't had privacy for years. I am proud for the movies and the work we all have put into them, but the other side of this is just exhausting. Andrew says, that I should enjoy it while it last, that fame fades out and the work eventually gets finished. Maybe it's too selfish at this point, but I would like it to end. I would do anything to trade with Andrew and have a kind of life he has.

The two "Peter Parkers" had no idea what it meant for them that night. Just a stupid simple wish at the back of their head. Well, someone is lucky today.

Tom's P.O.V.

Either this is a very bizarre dream or someone did a very elaborate prank on me. I am looking at Andrew. But I am looking in the mirror, where usually my reflection stares back at me. How is this even possible?

I calm down and after a while I get out of bed. I am in Andrew's apartement. His place looks nice, neat, surprisingly. I take off a shirt and put it on. While sliding it on my new torso. I notice my new biceps. Damn, Andrew, you're not so bad. I thought you gave up body-building. But this is quite nice.

The exploring didn't stop there. I dropped my or (Andrew's?) boxers to get a nice view. I was welcomed by a hairy co 7 inch long dick. Not bad again Andrew. I started to jerk it. While enjoying the body of a 40 year old in a great shape, some woman came into the room and with no expression just said:"If you wanna come to the premiere you gotta speed up and get dressed. Be ready in 30"

Oh shit. Was that his girlfriend? Or maybe a manager. I don't know what is worse. The indifference or the fact she saw me like this.

I might have some explaining to do when I see Andrew in my body at the premiere.

Andrew's P.O.V.

What was weirder, I didn't recognize my body. I had bigger muscles, lean chest and nice 6 pack. I could even feel the stench of a younger body. Even my skin was visible younger.

I got up from the bed to find out that this body sleeps naked in bed.

I went to the nearest mirror. Holy shit. It's Tom

I was shocked at first, but then I remembered what I thought about last night. Maybe, this is a way from the universe to show me if I truly hate my life or if this is the life for me.

I went back to bed to rest. Well... maybe not rest, but whatever. It's nobody's bussiness how many times I have jerked off Tom's dick. It's also nobody's bussiness to ask how long was I in the shower afterwards and if the scream were of pain or pleasure

Shit. I love Tom's style. His wardrobe is filled with such nice clothes. I don't even know what to pick. Even showing of his abs looks amazingly stylish

Andrew and Tom bumped into each other right in front of the journalists.

"How you feeling man?"

"Young! And the best I have felt in years. Your body was a nice surprise. How are you holding on?"

"Well, I have to say that I can't complain either. I mean, you have a much more calmer life than I do. Wouldn't mind if we had this for a few weeks."

"Oh, I don't think I would mind either. It would be an honor for me to take care of your life Tom"

"Don't call me like that now, TOM! People might think you're on drugs. Haha. And yeah, let's make it a deal. We don't even know how to swap back, but when we do find out we swap back on our own terms. Deal?"

"Deal!"

The two of them embraced each other in a hug and laughed about it

This couldn't have worked out better for the two of them

#accidental body swap #body swap #male body swap #body switch #celebrity body swap

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ideasarestuckinmyhead · 2 days

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Promise me!

Rook had to keep their guard up, the trio made it safely here. But Auron was somewhere, they didn't know where and it was slowly freaking them out. Faust, Auron's mom and Trish were here as well Rook knew they needed to keep a cool head or things would get out of order quickly.

"Where the fuck even is he?" The question made everyone think, worry and confusion filled the room as they tried to think. The bluenette looked at Rook for an answer, they didn't know, but they all didn't need to worry about that.

"Auron just told me to get you all here and he'd meet up. Something about needing to finish something." Calmly Rook explained as they turned to the window. Auron, where the fuck are you? That seemed to ease some people, like the trio but the two older women were having a silent conversation with their eyes.

Then Auron's mother, Aurelia looked at Rook, "I have another question? Are you my sons partner?" The question gave something for Rook to focus on.

"Yes, ma'am I am. Sorry we had to meet like th-" The older red head lady gasped and started to ask even more questions. How did you two meet? How many dates did you go on? Did Auron treat them right? And their personal favorite.

"Is he always keeping you on your toes?" Cheekly with a sly smile, Aurelia asked her final question. Trish was smiling with her friend, knowing that she always did this when there was a tense situation. Distract and figure out emotions.

"We met at work, we went on five so far, yes he treats me like royalty, and as you can see from him not being here. Also yes." Answering all the questions shot at them Rook crossed their arms to themselves. Faust, who was listening then spoke.

"Wait aren't you that person I asked for a coffee?" Sighing Rook nodded. Faust looked slightly embarrassed, "Sorry. Um didn't know you were my- his partner." Rook just gave a nod then turned to the trio. Alphonse the pink one was looking at the small group, Seth was listening to the third one. And the third one named 'Boo' was looking at Rook, like they knew Rook?

All of that was weeks ago, a month even. They were all told by Auron to stay here because of something. He never told Rook with such desperation to just stay put, they did put up a fight but was knocked out. Now they had to keep the peace because Faust and Alphonse kept butting heads, the shorter man got scolded by the older women. And Alphonse was scolded by his partner.

Rook giggled as Alphonse deflated slightly at the scolding, so did Seth. It seemed only those two had a problem being here. Aurelia was nice to chat or gossip with along with Trish, they were told many stories of their youth. Even some about Auron when he was a child, how he didn't like to be told what to do and would get a pouty face when told to do something.

Rook would be looking out the window tapping on something to ease their mind. Keeping them grounded even, but Auron always did know how to keep everyone on their toes. It was annoying really, he could at least told them what he was going to do. Aurelia saw how much Rook loved her son, and was so happy he finally found someone.

"I'm glad to know the person that made my son swoon for them." A random Wednesday she started this conversation. Snapping out of their thoughts Rook looked at the older woman her hair combo of red and white made them wonder if Auron would have that when older.

"Yeah, he's crazy about me." Softly smiling to themselves they crossed their arms. Nerves were getting more worst by the minute fuck where is he? Doesn't he know that their scared shitless for him? Fuck they're really starting to hate that savior complex he has.

"Rook, focus on my voice dear. Your starting to hyperventilate, you need to slow your breathing okay?" Smooth words filled their ears and they nodded slowly starting to do what they were told they felt tears fall again. Fuck their crying in front of their partner's mom. "It's okay dear, Auron doesn't think of how him leaving would effect other people. I think he got that from me." Aurelia said trying to make them focus on something else.

"Y..yeah he really does. Doesn't he?" Wet laughter was heard from Rook as they slowly sat down on the floor curling into themselves. This was really, really over do Rook having a crying session. The wanting of being strong for Auron and everyone here, because they felt like if they were panicking that would cause other's to panic.

"You don't have to be strong. I got you sweetie." The older woman felt so bad for them. Auron you better come home quickly, or I'm going to come get you myself. Thinking to herself as she opened her arms for a hug, waiting to see if Rook wanted one. They did, they really needed one right now. And so both were hugging, Rook was silently crying into her shoulder, Aurelia rocked them slowly. Humming a tune Rook felt as their emotions start to settle again. They were in a guest bedroom, so there was a knock with both being gone for so long.

Aurelia shielded Rook from the door, "Yes? Who is it?" On the other side Trish called out.

"Groceries were delivered. I'm thinking of cooking. Any requests?" The other older woman knew that she shouldn't point out that she heard everything. So she decided to play dumb for the sake of Rook, Trish knew the fear they had for Auron. She felt it everyday since Auron took being head of the company, how his step father wasn't a very nice man and made lots of enemies in his business. That boy still thinks she doesn't know, but she does, she always found out.

"No, not really. Thank you for asking Trish." Aurelia answered for both of them as Rook started to collect themselves. Thanking the shorter woman they finally got up and went to the guest bathroom to clean their face. When the bathroom door closed Aurelia let her tears fall a bit, she really needed her son to be back and to be safe.

Now it was Thursday, Rook woke up early as usual being with Auron for so long they got use to his schedule. Sighing they made their drink, and decided to reheat the dinner Trish made yesterday. Watching the microwave they wondered how the guards outside are doing, are they worried for Auron as well?

A door was opening, Rook snapped their head to the front door. It slowly opened and a tall man walked through then flicking on the light.

"Auron?"

"Rook?"

Both were looking at eat other with wide eyes, Rook made the first move. Rushing around the island and wrapping their arms around Auron who hurried to lock them in his arms. There was no ore words between them, they really needed to feel each other after being apart for so long. The red head slowly walked them to the couch and sat down still holding Rook tight, they didn't complain they basically had their claws sinked into his back. Both made sure the other would escape the hug, the fist hug they had in a long time.

Then, they just stayed there like that. Both didn't know for how long but the first few to wake up and see them were the trio. Boo made themselves in charge of breakfast, it made them ease their minds and give them something to do.

"I guess we'll be leaving now?" Boo spoke as they looked at the couple. Auron nodded and Alphonse almost said something but Seth held his hand. Shaking his head all three went for the door and was let out, they just wanted to go home and be with each other in peace. Just like Auron and Rook. Once again, Rook was the first to make a move. Lifting their head from his shoulder Auron saw the tears that fell from their eyes.

"Promise me you won't do that shit again." Demanding as they glared at him slightly. Auron was about to speak but was interrupted, "Auron I fucking mean it. Promise me, I can not! Go through this again." Serious was all over Rooks features. So the taller man nodded and kissed their forehead then letting his arms go from the hug holding their face lovingly.

"I promise, and I'm sorry." Gently saying as he looked into their eyes, taking the promise Rook nodded and kiss him.

#red rants #yuurivoice #yuurivoice auron #ig this could be part two of don't leave me

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leydenkilgore · 2 days

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The Avatar Method

The whole concept of the movie Avatar reminds me of shifting. So a couple months ago, I developed a method that helped me shift there based on how they enter their Avatars. I shift maybe five times with this one. Like with all methods even if you don’t shift immediately, just flip the belief to confirm that you did and the method is the best for you. Whether or not you actually shift every time you try, does not matter. The continued insistence that you have will overtake the doubts in time. Usually about two weeks if I use myself as a reference. However, it could take longer from person to person.

1. Lay down on your back. (I would say back is necessary because that’s how it occurred in the movie but you could also just change that belief to one that’s more comfortable. Moving doesn’t matter as long as you stay calm):

2. Close your eyes and make rapid eye movements.

3. Clear your mind. (It doesn’t have to be with meditation or deep breaths. I hate those. You can just think of something in your dr or something that makes you calm. After doing this continuously, you should enter a sort of thoughtless state. This is usually when I begin thinking as if I’m in my dr naturally and then shift. But if you don’t keep going with the method).

4. Envision your falling through a wormhole. Keep it short ideally for maybe 45 seconds but don’t pay attention to specifics.

5. Either open your eyes in your reality or open your eyes in your mind. Think of what you would see. You can visualize or just think in words. Would anyone wake you?

With methods like these I don’t like affirming because I feel it leads to you focusing on your original reality unintentionally. So I would just focus on my dr specifically. Even if you don’t shift odds are you’ll gain memories or specific thoughts form you dr. Which I think are pretty cool. Oh and please write down each attempt in a log. It’s not necessary to shift but I can’t recommend it enough. It’s based off of something from lucid dreaming. Writing down your attempts helps your memory and reading all the little victories can motivate you and boost your belief. Or course make any changes to fit your beliefs and what makes you the most comfortable.

Again happy shifting, even if you fail which I don’t think you will, it’s not the end of the world 💫

#shiftblr #shifting #loa #manifestation #shifting antis dni #shifting community #sucess story #manifesting #shifting realities #reality shifting

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one-piece-aus · 3 days

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Unbottle Your Emotions

Eutass Kid x Reader (Part 1)

Ahoy readers! Some of you who read my Whumptober works know I made two short whumps of Kid in a highschool AU and I can tell you enjoyed those angsty works. I've dug around in my drafts and found this, I wrote it a few years ago but nonetheless, it's the beginning of this story so I thought why not post it? Enjoy Part 1 ^-^

"Alright, class," Makino addressed you and your classmates once she finished attendance. "I have a partner project for you to work on for the next two weeks. Before you ask, I have already assigned who you'll be working with."

You glanced over to Hawkins, if you were lucky you'd be partnered with him. The two of you were loners who stuck together. You found it easier to work with him since you kinda were on the same level when it came to that. He made eye contact with you and knew you wanted him to check his chances of being paired with you. He drew his cards under his desk before looking back to you and shaking his head. You sighed, pulling up your hood and resting your head on your arms, you continued listening to your English teacher.

"You'll be choosing a topic to write about, whether it's a review of a movie or a poem about birds, I want the two of you to make it together. This will be a presentation assignment so make sure to capture your listeners' attention and practice what you'll be reading." Makino paused, going over to her laptop, and clicking a few keys before turning on the projector. "Here are your partners."

Once the screen had been displayed your eyes scanned over the list to find your name. You saw Hawkins got paired with Cavendish, you almost felt bad for him until your eyes landed on who you paired with. The person Makino assigned you to work with was Eustass Kid.

He was the most hostile guy at school, it was no secret the guy had anger issues and was completely obnoxious. You avoided him like the plague for two reasons:

1. You were a good student and just wanted to learn, obnoxious kids disrupt the silence and your ability to learn.

2. You could only tolerate someone directing their anger at you for so long before crying; not that they made you feel sad, but because you felt anger at them and wished to shout back at them to defend yourself, yet you held your tongue back since you didn't want to cause further trouble; that bottled up emotion stressed tears out of you.

You hated crying because that made you think you appeared hurt and weak when in reality you were angry and frustrated, the more you felt it the more the tears came. That's why tried to quickly get out of the predicaments if you were ever in them.

The quickest way you dealt with someone's anger and got out of the problem was ignoring them if they were just insulting you or apologizing respectfully if you did something to piss them off. Since you pulled off these things well without appearing to be phased and having acknowledgement of the issue with genuine respect, those in school weren't aware you had a limit. However, you witnessed how Kid gets whenever someone pisses him off, you knew there'd be no way you could keep the bottle closed if he directed his anger at you, so that's why you always duck away when you saw Kid coming.

Internally you panicked when you saw you were assigned to be his partner. You didn't know how you managed to get this far acting as a ghost while being in the same classes as him this semester. You usually weren't in a corner or by the window, you were near the front of the room, second row and just two desks away from being in the center of the class, great for viewing the board. Perhaps you were a ghost to Kid since he sat around the back near the window.

Kid raised his head and looked around, searching for you, you pulled your hood further over you and lowered your head to face away from Kid. "Oi, Teach! Which one's the one I'm working with?" You heard Kid ask, I guess he really didn't know who you are.

You listened to the footsteps of the teacher, drawing towards you just as a brush does to the paints on a pallet. You feel her gentle hand rub your head, maybe thinking you were asleep, you did come in class yawning. You hesitantly lifted your head, looking up at Makino and seeing her smile. Oh, bless her heart for being kind and welcoming, wishing to create a pleasant and welcoming place for her class, but that's what's going to bite you in the ass because it meant you couldn't get out of this since she wanted her class to be comfortable with each other. You sighed, making it a sound like a yawn, and sat up but still kept your hood on.

"This is [L/n], Eustass," Makino told Kid, gesturing to you before she went to another student who had raised their hand.

You didn't say a word, instead, you took out your notes and reviewed them to see which ones you needed for the project. The daunting sound of Kid approaching your desk only made you read through your notes more frantic until he sat down in the chair in front of you with a scowl on his face. You looked away from your notes, masking your uneasy state as you finally spoke to him.

"Hi! Sorry- I was searching for the notes we'll probably need!" You apologized then glanced back at the papers and began putting the ones you didn't need back in your binder. You just needed to get on his good side, if you didn't irritate him you two could get this project over with and never have to speak to each other again, that's how classmates go.

"At least you seemed to know what you're doing," Kid responded, eyes gazing over the many notes you've jotted down as you slipped them away in the binder.

"Uh- you can pick whatever you wanna do for the project if you want," you told him and put your binder into your bag. "I'm uh- fine with whatever unless you wanted to ask the teacher to work with a friend instead, then I'll find a topic to work on by myself."

"None of my friends are in this class," he shrugged and folded his arms. "Besides I know Makino wouldn't change my partner even if I asked, I'm just glad it's not strawhat I'm working with again."

"Strawhat? Luffy?" You tilted your head, not recalling Luffy being in your class.

"He was in one of my classes last semester and we had Makino as our teacher," Kid explained as put his arms on your desk, taking up half the space.

"Oh..."

"You know the guy?" Kid inquired, raising a non-existent eyebrow at you.

"Not really."

"Good, he's annoying and so are his friends."

You sweatdropped unsure how to respond to his complaint. Normally you'd let some continue their rants until they were done, especially if they had anger issues you didn't want to trigger them, but you wanted to get everything figured out before class was over.

"So did you have something in mind?" You asked getting back on topic.

"We're not writing poetry, that's for damn sure," he grumbled, pushing his cheek onto his knuckled fist.

'How ironic, that's probably what Cavendish and Hawkins are,' you thought to yourself as you glanced at the two blonds. Cavendish seemed to be boasting about myself again, maybe being partnered with Kid wasn't so bad.

"Have you listened to any metal songs?" Kid inquired, throwing his idea out there.

"Yeah..."

"Really?" he questioned, not believing you.

"Yeah."

Kid's eyes widened in surprise. "Wait, really?!"

"Uh yeah." How many times were you going to have to repeat yourself?

"Huh, I didn't think you'd listen to that kind of music."

You shrugged. "My dad got me into metal and rock when I was younger. Better than what plays on the radio."

"You don't have to tell me twice. Idiots that listen to what they play on there now don't know what real music is."

You chuckled, agreeing with Kid, maybe he wasn't so bad. "I guess we found our topic. Now we need to figure out how we'd be writing it." You flipped over one of your papers and started writing down a few methods. "Fan letter to the artist, a review of the song, analysis of the lyrics-"

A loud buzz rang throughout the school and repeated itself, you cringed at the obnoxious noise blaring in your ear. Someone must've started a fire in the bathroom again. Your class filed out of the room, merging into the sea of students exiting the building. You wanted to cover your ears as the noise became louder in the halls but you didn't want to appear like a weirdo using your hands, you had wireless earbuds but that wasn't something to take out in the stampede you were in since you could drop one. You just had to suffer internally.

Once outside, you went and stood by Hawkins while waiting for the fire department to find the fire. You rubbed your ears now that you were away from the crowd and just had your fellow loner next to you.

"Acting like a cat again, [Y/n]?" Hawkins asked, seeing you paw your ears. He often compared to his cat, Faust.

"Yeah, my ears just hurt from the noise." You despised noise.

"You should listen to some soothing frequencies after instead of your regular choice of music if you want your ears to recover properly," Hawkins advised.

"Ehhhh... I might have to this time."

"Oh?" Hawkins glanced at you, inquiring you for further details. You didn't usually listen to him when he advised you to give your ear a break from your music, hence why he grew curious to understand why you were thinking of taking his suggestion.

"I might be hearing more noise today at school but once I get home I'll probably be able to listen to it."

"And what makes you think you'll be hearing more noise?"

"I don't know, maybe-"

"OI! [L/N]!" Kid shouted to get your attention as he marched over to you.

You flinched at his voice in that tone, and the irritated expression on his face made you think you did something wrong. You turned to him and held your arm behind your back.

"Sorry, what did you need Kid?"

"Give me your phone."

"What?" You feel your chest begin to burn and you know your forehead will begin to paint itself red.

"I need it to put my contact in your phone."

You were going to push back but you folded your tongue seeing the impatient scowl Kid wore. Not questioning him further, taking your phone out of your pocket. Unlocking it, you hastily clicked over to your contact app and handed it over to the redhead before you could see him grow more impatient.

Kid, just about to add a new contact, couldn't help but notice how you only had five contacts on your phone. Only three out of the five weren't family-related. Did you just not add people to your phone? He scoffed the thought off, it wasn't his business. He began typing his number into your phone.

You wanted to ask why Kid needed to put his contact in your phone, however, your bottled emotion prevented you from speaking your question. Kid seemed pissed enough, you weren't going to attempt to do anything that might push him off the edge. You shifted your footing, the expression on your face displaying your unease.

"Perhaps you should tell why you're adding your number to her phone," Hawkins spoke up for you.

"Fuck off Basil, it's not your business," Kid barked.

"It may not be mine but it is [Y/n]'s business to know since it is her phone," Hawkins stated unphased by Kid. Oh, how you wished to be as stoic as Hawkins. Granted, you did a good job ninety percent of the time but it crumbled easily in the presence of hostile or authoritative anger.

Kid glared at Hawkins for a moment before he handed you back your phone, his attention now on you. "Send me a text," he instructed you and pulled out his phone.

You weren't sure what exactly to send so you just typed 'Hi' into the chat. A ding came from Kid's phone and he checked the message to make sure it came from you. Comparing his screen to yours, you felt your hands brush against each other. The chills surfing across your body turned your body pale from how uncomfortable you felt to Kid standing this close to you. You wanted to isolate yourself in your room, though when Kid moved away you couldn't help but be grateful.

"Alright, I got it." Kid put his phone in his pocket and started walking away. "Text me about our project later."

You stood there confused with the hidden parts of your head burning red. You didn't understand why Kid confronted you like that when he could've easily asked when the two of you got back to class. You stared in the direction Kid left until a concerned hand rested on your shoulder and you let out a breath you didn't know you were holding. Glancing over, you met Hawkins' crimson eyes.

"The cards said you needed a comforting hand," Hawkins said unsure if he helped. "There was an 80% chance you would've shed tears if not."

Right, Hawkins is the only one who knew of your bottled frustration; he saw it happen when he walked in the middle of you being scolded by a teacher. Anyone else would've thought you were upset and sad but he could read the frustration and anger written on your face, and he drew the cards to double-check. The two of you never spoke of it at first, but after you began to hang around, and he saw it a few more times, he offered to be there for you if you ever needed a quiet place and a listening ear.

"Once the firemen are done we'll be in second period," Hawkins informed you, shifting the topic away from what just happened. He knows you don't like to stay stuck in your conflicted emotions.

"So that's why Kid did that..." You glance at the phone in your hand to see the time; English is over. Slipping it into your pocket, you groaned, realizing something. "Hhhhh, that means we still have to get our stuff from English... We have drama next class, right?"

"Hmm." Hawkins nodded.

"Can you please get my stuff, I don't think I can face Kid again at the moment."

"Very well, [Y/n]."

"Thanks, I'll treat you to lunch."

"Does that mean we'll go to the vegan restaurant?" You've known Hawkins long enough to tell the subtle delight in his monotone.

"For doing this-" You turned to him, a grateful small smile drawn on your face. "Yes."

Tag: @lil-skelly-bones

#one piece #one piece x reader #eustass x reader #eustass kid x reader #eustass kid #one piece kid #one piece eustass #eustass kid x you #eustass kid x y/n #x reader #platonic basil hawkins #unbottle your emotions

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zukosdualdao · 21 hours

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still feel the spin / hurts when i remember (i never wanna feel it again)

zutara month, day 14: exposed, @zutaramonth

summary: the night they return from the boiling rock, zuko breaks away from the group and falls back into an old pattern. katara catches him.

warnings: references to abuse and ozai trying to kill zuko, dissociation, and self-harm via firebending. please read carefully, mind the warnings, and take a step back if needed. <3

other notes: title taken from control by zoe wees. don't ask katara why she went looking for him to tell him dinner was ready she doesn't have to answer such questions! (she did, in fact, notice him missing, and wanted to check on him, despite herself.)

The night they return from the Boiling Rock, Zuko watches with a smile as Katara and Sokka hug their father, relieved for them that he’s okay, and that Zuko could help in this.

There’s another feeling wriggling in the back of his mind, though—something more complicated, sick with grief that might morph back into that festering, dark kind of anger if he lets it, and he breaks awake from the group as soon as he gets the chance, with them not noticing as introductions are made and Sokka begins to recount the story.

Shaking his head, he makes for the quarters where Sokka first took him when he arrived at The Western Air Temple. The group tends to sleep together, huddled up with a fire between them for warmth, and Zuko’s taken to doing the same, but this is one place he knows he’ll be alone.

Taking a deep breath, he sits down on the bed there. Katara and Sokka were so happy to see their father, so relieved, and in turn, Hakoda’s love for them was clearly etched into his features.

Zuko remembers, in a flash, the last time he saw his own father, only weeks ago. The fear clawing at him even as he drew his swords at his father’s threats. That beat before Ozai tried to strike him down with lightning, the electricity working through him as he redirected it.

The knowledge that his father really would kill him.

Zuko doesn’t want anger to rule him anymore, and he’s afraid if he lets himself feel this too deeply, that’s what it will become.

His chest feels empty, caved in, scooped out. It’s easier, better, he thinks, to let it become muted, to let his feelings die as he swallows them down. Dazedly, almost unconsciously, he lifts his left hand and summons a small flame, grazing it against the palm of his other hand.

It takes more to burn a firebender than it does others, both because of their hot-blooded natures and because of resistance training. More heat, more intent, more desire—

He feels the heat growing against his palm more than he logically understands it. There’s a swell of pain, a bright searing point, but he only feels hollow.

“What are you doing?”

Zuko whips his head to see Katara staring at him in the doorway, eyes wide and surprised and maybe concerned, her expression so open, like she’s forgotten, for a moment, that she hates him.

She takes a long step forward before pausing.

“I—nothing,” he lies, extinguishing his flame and curling the fingers of his right palm against the shiny red skin there. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he knows it should hurt, but what he most feels is shame at the being caught, being exposed like this.

It's not something he does very often. Usually, he has a better handle on it. Knows better than to let his fire grow so strong.

Katara stands stock-still for another few seconds before she’s shaking her head, eyes closed, and huffing out a breath. She approaches him, sitting down on the bed beside him, and opens her waterskin, calling her bending water to her before taking his hands in her own.

Zuko inhales sharply, coming back to himself, as the water soothes his burned skin and draws out the pain, leaving only his blank palm behind. It had gone deep. If it weren’t for her, the fire probably would have left behind a scar.

Another one.

“You shouldn’t hurt your—” Katara starts in a quiet voice, almost kind of gentle, like she’s worried she might spook him. Then, she remembers herself. With her brow drawn, Katara then looks at him, her eyes hard and piercing once more. “Don’t do that again,” she says. “You’re Aang’s firebending teacher,” she reminds him. “We can’t afford for you to be hurt, and he can’t learn anything like that from you.”

Zuko nods, just once. She turns to leave, stopping at the doorway without looking back.

“Dinner is ready,” Katara says before walking away without waiting for his response.

With his hands pressed against his knees, Zuko waits another moment. Then, he stands, limbs feeling rigid, and follows her out.

#zutaramonth2024 #trigger: abuse.#trigger: dissociation.#trigger: self-harm.#zutara month #day 14: exposed.#atla #zutara #my fic #still feel the spin / hurts when i remember (i never wanna feel it again)#zuko #katara

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do-it-for-the-fandom · 2 days

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Cloudy With a Chance of Murder.

Part I: leaving the crime scene.

Part II: the phone call.

Part III: a visit to the morgue.

Part IV: the lunch break.

Beckett stood by the coffee machine, waiting for the last of the espresso double-shot to drip from the machine so that she could pour the perfectly foamed milk into her mug. She was getting better at this; soon enough she'd be able to make herself a cup of coffee to rival Castle's, she was sure of it.

The boys had paraded through the bullpen with Reggie and his body guard only ten minutes ago. Their interrogation was far from over and, with everything panning out the way it had been, Beckett had decided that now was as good a time as ever for a caffeine boost.

Castle evidently had the same idea.

He walked into the break room and moved to take his place by her side. But he stood too close. Too close for at the precinct, anyway.

Out of habit - yes, after only two weeks they had already formed too many habits - his hand came to rest on her lower back and his chest brushed against her shoulder. She knew he wasn't doing it on purpose: trying to drive her crazy with the close proximity, the familiarity of his touch. But she hated having to hold back and it would be a hell of a lot easier if he wasn't constantly putting her in the position of having to be the one to redraw those boundaries.

With a sigh, she stepped to the side and regretfully created some distance between them.

"You know what I was just thinking?" Castle asked her as he turned and leaned back against the bench.

"That it's always the nice guy athlete that lets you down?" she mused with just a hint of bitterness.

Castle frowned. "There's obviously a backstory to that snide remark," he commented curiously. She looked at him, waited for the hounding questions but he shook his head. "No. I was thinking..." He allowed his voice to trail off as he stepped closer to her. After just a quick glance over his shoulder to ensure they were still alone, he looked at her with a mischievous grin. "It's almost lunch time."

Beckett looked at him, waited for him to maybe continue on with that train of thought. Instead, he just waggled his eyebrows.

"And?"

"And, I just happened to leave my packed lunch at home this morning."

She frowned; since when did Castle pack a lunch? But then she realized what he was suggesting. "So you'll be needing to go home to get it."

Castle smiled, took another small step in her direction. He was invading her space again; the smell of his cologne too alluring to ignore and she - for the second time that day - abandoned her coffee.

"I was hoping that maybe you could give me a lift?" he asked, still playing this game he had obviously decided he liked. "You know, save me the hassle of trying to hail a cab."

"You seem to have forgotten the case we're working on. The one that is far from solved," she reminded him.

He shrugged. "Gotta take your mandated break, right?"

"And you want me to spend my break playing taxi for you?"

"I promise to make it worth your while."

#my drabbles #kate beckett #richard castle #caskett #castle #kate beckett x richard castle #castle fanfiction #castle fanfic

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hollyethecurious · 3 days

Text

CS AU: Pan Says... (9/?)

Summary: After waking up in a strange room with a naked stranger, Emma and Killian must endure the twisted game their kidnapper insists they play in order to gain provisions and avoid punishments.

A/N: Check it out, y'all! Another update from me! Lots of love to @ultraluckycatnd and @kmomof4 for their exceptional beta skills! I hope you guys enjoy this chapter as much as I did writing it!

Rated E / Also available on ao3 and ff.net / buy me a coffee / add to tag list / Curious? Come Ask Me!

Part One / Part Two / Part Three / Part Four / Part Five / Part Six / Part Seven / Part Eight

Chapter Warnings: exhibitionism / voyeurism. role play.

Part Nine

“I don’t know who you are, or what sort of game you’re playing at, but this isn’t funny!”

Emma glanced at the monitor overhead, the timer quickly counting down the minutes she had left to try and convince David that she was really Emma, that she was alive, and in need of his help.

“David Robert Nolan, shut the fuck up and listen to me!” she yelled over the receiver.

“What did you just call me?”

“I called you by your full government name,” she said. “David Robert, after your father, Nolan. Or would you prefer I call you Charming like Mary Margaret does?”

“How do you know--”

“Because it’s me, David! It’s Emma! I’m alive and I need your help!”

“Emma?” he questioned over the line, the hope she knew he wasn’t sure he should dare to feel leaking into his tone. “Is it really you? How? Where are you? Where have you been? Who did they pull out of the--”

“Just listen, okay?” she interrupted as the time rapidly dwindled. “I don’t know who that woman was or how he faked my death, but I was abducted three weeks ago by someone who calls himself Pan. I was taken from outside the police station after dropping off a skip. I was tasered. I’m here with a man named Captain Killian Jones. He has a brother named Liam, who also was led to believe that Killian was missing for reasons other than kidnapping. I need you to find him. He’ll be trying to get a hold of you, because Killian just called him, too, and let him know what’s been going on.”

She flicked her gaze to Killian, still looking shell-shocked from the emotionally charged conversation he’d had with his brother. He’d wanted to stay by her side whilst she made her call, but she’d told him to go sit and take a moment. They’d be there for one another later. It was why they’d chosen to wait and make these calls before turning in for the night. So they could just lay in bed and hold each other in the aftermath.

“What has been going on?” David demanded, bringing Emma’s focus back to her brother. “Why would this Pan person take you? What has he… are you alright? Has he hurt you? Did you escape, is that why you’re calling now? Do I need to come get--”

“No, we haven’t escaped. We… we sort of… earned a reward. Look. It’s too much to explain right now. I’m going to give you some specs of the place we’re being held in. Write them down so you can give them to the police.”

Emma waited as David searched for a pen and paper, her heart thudding wildly in her chest as the timer continued to draw closer to zero.

“Okay. Go.”

Emma rattled off the information Killian had put together for them; the estimated size of the facility, features he’d been able to make out that might make the building distinguishable, and details about the different rooms (though she hadn’t told Killian about the medical suite she’d been in, and hated that she couldn’t tell him or David about the doctor, for fear of Pan’s threat against Killian’s pound of flesh) that might aid in their search. She also mentioned that there were others here, so perhaps they could find a link between their missing person cases and others with similar details.

“Got it,” David said. “What… what else can I do?”

“Nothing,” she said, her throat tightening and tears welling in her eyes. The carefully constructed fortifications she’d put in place in order to get through the call were crumbling fast, but she couldn’t fall to pieces just yet. “Just… Just know that I’m alive and that Killian and I need you to get the police looking for us again. And…”

“And?”

10… 9… 8… 7… 6… 5…

“And that I love you! I love you both!”

0… dial tone.

The receiver slipped from her hand and clattered against the concrete floor. She was pretty sure Killian returned it to the base before sweeping her up into his arms and carrying her to the bed. Laying her down gently, he crawled onto the bed beside her and gathered her in his arms. With the last of her strength, Emma pressed closer to him, molding their chests together and tucking her head beneath his chin. Long, quiet minutes stretched out with only their unified heartbeats filling the void, neither of them capable of saying much of anything until Killian broke the silence.

“He sounded destroyed,” he murmured, his tone flat and watery from the tears he’d shed after hanging up with his brother, and again as he’d held Emma while she spent hers into the front of his shirt. “Your brother sounded as though he’d been given a noble quest, while mine…”

“You told him not to beat himself up over it,” she reminded him. “To not dwell on the fact that he’d believed the lie Pan sent him from your email address.”

“Aye,” he sighed.

She knew he was running the conversation over in his mind. The way Liam had sounded ecstatic to hear from him, asking about his travels and when he thought he might return home. The way the line had gone silent after Killian had revealed the truth. The way his brother had sounded broken and utterly ashamed that he’d fallen for the trick, too eager to believe things had turned a corner for his brother, blinding him from seeing the cracks in the story that might have caused him to be suspicious enough to follow up.

Killian had spent most of the call comforting his brother and apologizing for the things he’d said when last they spoke, breaking open old wounds they had not the time to properly dress so they might begin to heal. Their time had gone so fast. He’d barely been able to convey the necessary details to him so that further action could be taken beyond the call before time ran out. She wasn’t even sure Liam had heard Killian tell him he loved him before the line had gone dead.

While her call to David had played out almost exactly as she thought it would, she knew Killian’s had not gone the way he’d wanted it to.

“At least they know now,” she said. “The truth is out there, and they’ll be looking for us again. That’s something at least.”

“Aye,” he agreed, though a bit hollowly. “That’s better than the alternative.”

“Hey,” she said, pulling back and lifting her gaze. When he didn’t meet hers right away she reached up and scratched her fingers through the stubble at his jawline. A huff left his chest and his eyes fell to hers.

“I’m sorry you didn’t get a chance to really clear the air with him. I know there were things you had to leave unsaid in order to get our message out, but…” She swallowed hard, willing back the fresh sob working its way up her throat. “Please don’t give up hope.” His eyes softened at the sound of her words catching and he buried his hand in the back of her hair. “I need you to help me stay optimistic here. I need you to tell me that we’ll still be able to tell them everything we didn’t get a chance to say to them today, because they’ll find us and we can say those words to their faces. Okay?”

“Emma, I…”

She could see his heart breaking in his expression and she chastised herself for guilt-tripping him, but… she meant what she said. She needed him to be strong with her right now.

“I’m sorry, love,” he said, holding her close to his chest once more. “Of course we’ll get that chance. We’ll have an entire lifetime to say all the things that need to be said. They’ll find us. Of that I’m certain. They’ll never stop fighting for us. And neither will I.”

“Good.”

~/~

Emma twisted and turned her torso in an attempt to find comfort, something that seemed to be an impossibility in the damned corset Pan had provided.

A corset that accompanied the wench costume she was expected to wear for tonight’s festivities. Festivities that made her stomach roll, or would have if the blasted corset hadn’t been cinched so tightly.

After a fitful night’s sleep and late morning meal, she and Killian had been escorted to different areas so they could prepare themselves as the evening’s entertainment. Per usual, her anxiety spiked when it became clear they were to be separated, and the spa-like environment where she would spend the day being pampered and prepped did little to calm her nerves.

The host of ladies who assisted in the waxing, facial, manicure, pedicure, massage, hair, and make-up services wore masks to obscure their identities and spoke in a language Emma could not identify. Although she attempted to question them individually, they either did not understand her, or had been instructed to pretend as such. The latter seemed more plausible given the furtive glances the ladies occasionally made towards the Lost One standing guard.

After a light meal, Emma was dressed in the wench costume; a more upscale version of the cheap, slutty knock-off one might find at a Halloween store. The women were dismissed and she’d been instructed to follow the Lost One, her trepidations spiking again as she padded down the corridor behind him. There were many twists and turns before they finally rounded a corner, revealing Killian standing in front of a set of double doors. Emma’s heart leapt at the sight of him and relief flooded her body.

Well, first relief, then… something else.

He was decked out in head to toe leather, his jawline manicured with an alluring amount of scruff and his eyes lined in a deep, rich kohl. His hair had been artfully tousled and his skin bronzed. Beneath the layers of black leather, he wore a smoke-like linen shirt, unbuttoned down to the v of his waistcoat, exposing a tantalizing amount of chest hair. The leather trousers were tight, but not so much as to appear painted on, leaving just a hint to the imagination of what lay beneath their laces.

“Swan?” he said, in an amused and sinfully deep tone. “See something you like, love?”

Now aware that her mouth had been hanging open, Emma closed it and swallowed hard before answering, “You look…”

“I know,” he quipped with a cheeky smirk and smugly lifted brow, earning him an eye roll before his gaze raked over her once more. “You cut quite the figure in that get up, I must say.”

“Cutting is right,” Emma groused, struggling against the tight confines of her outfit. “I can only imagine the impression this corset is leaving on my spleen.”

“Your discomfort is a cross I am more than willing to bear… especially after my earlier one.”

Emma raised her brows in response to his cryptic words and put-out tone.

Scratching behind his ear, the tip of which was becoming quite red, he confessed under his breath in a low mumble, “I’ve been manscaped.”

Her eyes widened, and although she knew better from her earlier perusal, they fell to his chest, ensuring herself that the thick blanket of hair remained untouched.

“Not there,” he said, exasperatedly. “Lower.”

Emma tucked her lips between her teeth to try and stifle her laugh. His disgruntled tone and expression were absolutely priceless, despite the circumstances.

“Well,” she said, placing her hand on his arm in commiseration. “That makes two of us.”

They shared a moment of joint amusement, until the sound of the doors opening pulled them back into reality, sobering their demeanors.

A Lost One waved them forward. This one, like the one who had stood guard over her throughout the day, was not either of the men who had been assigned to them previously. The ones who seemed to be connected to her and Killian, respectively, in some way.

With shoulders back and heads held high, they entered the theatre, hand-in-hand. The Lost One directed them to the platform and they were both caught off guard at the emptiness of the room.

“My guests will arrive in due course,” Pan’s voice echoed. “First, a few pre-performance instructions. Pan says…”

He started by pointing out the furnishings upon the platform: a leather chair, an antique writing desk, a chaise with several cushions, and a small side table with various toys, lubricants, restraints, and other items atop it, including a pair of domino masks and earbuds.

“Go ahead,” he insisted, “Pan says, each of you take a mask and an earbud. The mask will help obscure your identities and the earbud is how you’ll hear conversations and suggestions made by my guests.” After affixing their masks, they placed a bud in their ear. Pan’s voice was now, eerily, inside their heads. “You will only act on the suggestions that are accompanied by a green light that will illuminate along the back of the upper tier.”

Green light splashed against the back walls as an example before Pan continued. “Pan says you shall not speak unless instructed otherwise, and should only do so in character. I expect you to comply with the approved requests and show my guests a good time. Understood?”

“Aye,” Killian managed to utter. All Emma could do was nod, too choked with impending dread to speak.

“Good,” Pan crowed in their ear. “Pan says, get into character and have a good show.”

Before the doors could open, Killian swung Emma around to face him and pressed their foreheads together. “You and me,” he whispered, so low she barely heard him. “Just you and me, love.”

Emma closed her eyes and nodded, her forehead rubbing against his as she inhaled deeply. Opening her eyes, she connected her gaze with his, both of them silently giving the other permission to get into character and play out the charade: him, a fearsome pirate captain and her, his defiant wench captive.

Their audience finally filed in, initially paying them little attention, while greeting one another as they took their seats behind their screens. Emma took a seat of her own in the leather chair at the center of the platform as Killian casually leaned against the front of the desk with his arms and ankles crossed. It wasn’t until the stage began to spin, allowing all of the guests an opportunity to see the show from every vantage point, that the audience really took notice of them.

It was unnerving to hear their actual voices, and the comments being made as they assessed tonight’s entertainment. Emma kept her eyes squarely focused on Killian’s, attempting to block it all out, and had therefore almost missed the way his bejeweled finger was drumming against his arm, tapping out a rhythm against the leather.

You and me. You and me. You and me.

A greeting of welcome sounded out from the speakers and Pan took a moment to remind his guests to don their own earbuds and microphones, as well as set the stage for that evening’s entertainment.

As soon as the greenlight - literally - was given, a cacophony of voices flooded Emma’s ear as each of the guests threw out suggestions. Her stomach turned and tremors of dread rippled down her spine at the thought of what they would make her and Killian do, of the intimacies they’d witness, of the images they’d take away with them.

Reaching up, Emma adjusted her mask, assuring it was firmly in place. Closing her eyes, she tried to drown out the voices so she could collect herself. She wasn’t Emma Swan right now. She was a wench. A wench being held by a fearsome pirate captain. They weren’t seeing Emma. They wouldn’t be able to take anything from Emma Swan. All they would get from her tonight was a wench. A character. A fantasy. Nothing more.

The sharp tip of cold metal digging into the underside of her chin jolted her back to the here and now. Her eyes snapped open and Killian - no. Not Killian. The pirate captain - was standing before her with a dagger held to her throat. The room was flooded with green light, and Emma realized the first command had been issued. Swallowing against the pressure of the blade, Emma wet her lips, set her features, then lifted her chin in defiance.

“Seems she needs some convincing,” a guest said in her earbud. “I say we give the Captain free rein to order his wench about. Agreed?”

Others murmured their agreement and the green light illuminated once more. A wide, sinister smile lifted the corners of her Captain's lips and he twisted the dagger so the flat part of the blade rested beneath her chin.

“On your feet, wench,” he commanded, the blade prompting her to stand as he applied subtle pressure upward.

With a predatory gaze he followed the tip of the blade as it dragged across her skin, over the swell of each breast before dipping into the valley between. A shiver of desire coursed through her causing his lust-filled, darkened depths to flick up and meet her own.

He slipped the dagger beneath the laces of her corset and with several firm tugs cut her free from the restrictive garment. A relieved and rapturous exhale left her lungs, her breasts heaving from the joyous release.

“My, my,” Killian purred in his Captain’s voice. “Aren’t you a sightly bit of plunder.”

The tip of the dagger continued to tease and taunt her breasts, the tip swirling around and over each nipple until they were painfully erect and clearly visible through the thin fabric of her blouse. A few more tugs, slashes, and artfully placed cuts left her top in tatters, her breasts fully exposed to their audience and her pirate captor’s eyes. Eyes she chose to remain focused on as more suggestions were bandied about among the crowd.

A new suggestion was green lit, and the Captain stepped forward, closing what little space there had been between them. Trading their positions on the platform, he then pressed down on her shoulders and ordered, “On your knees for the Captain, wench.”

Emma lowered herself in front of him, a defiant, in-character, glare staring up at the smirk he gave her.

Sinking into the chair she had occupied a moment ago, he leaned back and crooked his finger at her. As she shuffled forward on her knees, his gaze hungrily taking her in, he commanded in a low and sultry tone, “Make good use of those hands and undo me laces.”

Her core clenched and she tried to remain in character as she reached up and loosened the laces of his leather trousers as though it were the last thing she wished to do.

“Good girl,” he praised. Slipping his hand into his trousers he pulled out his cock, not quite fully engorged yet, and began stroking it in her face.

“Now then.” She flinched when he tapped her lips with the head of his cock, hard. Taken aback momentarily by the action because she’d been distracted by her earbud, trying to decipher what the crowd was telling them to do next… not that it was a big leap. Reaching down he placed his thumb against her chin and applied a bit of downward force as he told her, “Open that whore’s mouth of yours and take my cock, wench. Let’s see how deft you are at shivering me timber.”

Her eyes watered and she choked against the assault of his member being forcibly shoved down her throat. Flicking her gaze upward, she saw the concern and apology in his eyes before he shut them tight and let his head fall back, an expression of arrogant dominance and self-satisfaction gloating from his features.

The laughter and jeers of the crowd filled her ears, as did the vulgar chant of suck his dick, applied in a rhythm that her Captain made her keep pace with from where he had her hair gripped in his hand at the back of her head.

“That’s it, love,” he praised, tapping out another rhythm behind her ear with his finger as she bobbed against his length. You and me, you and me, you and me.

She’d almost managed to tune out the mob when a woman’s voice grated in her ear.

“Well, hello there, sailor.”

Looking up, Emma saw a woman, decked out ostentatiously in hues of green, arriving late and making her way down the steps. In her hand was the microphone attached to the ear piece she wore. She paused, giving Killian a once over before slinking behind her screen and taking her seat.

Before she disappeared behind the thin veil of fabric, Emma recognized her by the mask she wore. It was the woman who had paused by the two-way mirror the night before to check her flaming red tresses.

“Do us a favor and flick those kohl-lined eyes this way,” she cat-called into her microphone.

The green light signaled from above and another light shone down over her screen. Emma stared up Killian’s body to look at his face and saw the muscle in his jaw clench and spasm before he flicked his eyes away from her and towards the screen, then held his gaze there as the platform continued to turn.

“Mmmm,” the woman hummed provocatively. “Yes, I think I’m going to enjoy tonight’s entertainment very much indeed.”

When the platform circled round again, Emma glanced over at the woman’s screen and could see the silhouette of her reclined back with her legs splayed wide, clearly pleasuring herself under the Captain’s gaze. A jolt of jealous anger ignited down Emma’s spine. Relaxing her jaw, she let Killian slip further down her throat until she could brush the tip of her nose against his torso. A cursing moan slipped over his lips and his hips bucked from the unexpected action.

“Nice!” a guest praised. “Make her take all of it, Captain!”

“No, you fool,” another guest chastised. “We don’t want him blowing his load too soon. Not when the wench has other holes for him to use.”

“I wanna see the wench take control. Let her have the reins for a bit.”

“Maybe next time,” someone countered. “I’m enjoying this too much.”

Next time!? Emma responded internally in a near panic. What the hell do they mean, next time?

“I think her breasts need some attention, too,” another chimed in. “Look how those nipples are just begging for attention.”

“I wanna see her cunny. I bet it is just dripping. Would love to see our Captain’s face glistening from her juices, wouldn’t you?”

All during their debate Emma continued to work her Captain over. She delighted in the way his chest hitched and heaved, the way the chords of his neck tightened, the rosy blush that developed high on his cheeks, the micro spasms twitching through his torso and down his legs, and the sounds… dear god, the sounds this man made.

Green flashed again and Emma was astounded at the way Killian managed to keep track of what was expected of them, given the distraction she’d been providing. Pulling himself from her mouth with a pained sounding grunt, he hauled her onto her feet then shoved her back onto the nearby chaise. She’d barely registered what was happening when he lifted her skirts up over her legs and grabbed her hips, pulling her body towards the edge of the cushion and lining her sex up with his eager mouth.

The exquisite torment lasted for what felt like hours. Time and again he brought her to the brink with his tongue, teeth, and hands, deftly assaulting her clit as he probed, scissored, and thrust his fingers into her holes. When his mouth tired he switched to one of the many toys, holding her on edge until tears streamed down her face and pathetic whimpers escaped her lips. Her back ached from the repeated arch his actions provoked and her legs quivered uncontrollably. A few times, he gave her cunt a rest, turning his attention to her breasts and laving them with his tongue while his slick-coated fingers rolled her nipples into taut peaks that he then sucked clean with his mouth.

The sound of their joint moans were echoed by those from the crowd. A symphony of zippers being undone, fabric being moved, skin being slapped, and groans being uttered filled her ears, making the torture all the more erotic. When she was finally given leave to speak, it was only so she could beg. Beg for mercy. Beg for release. Beg for him to fuck her.

And beg she did.

“Please, Captain,” she whimpered, choking on a sob that had caught in her throat from the fresh assault he was applying to her clit.

“Please what, wench?” he commanded in a strained gruff. “I want to hear you say it.”

“Please let me come,” she pleaded. “Please, please, plea--!”

She didn’t get the third please out before a scream tore past her lips, her body convulsing from the pleasure the vibrating toy at her clit was finally granting her. Wave after wave of release crashed over her until she was so spent she wasn’t certain she hadn’t blacked out. The next thing she knew, she was being hoisted off the chaise and bent over the desk, facing out towards the crowd.

The Captain’s body molded against her back, his breath hot against her ear as he growled, “I’d find something to hold on to if I were you, wench. Because I’m gonna fuck you hard. I’m gonna fuck you deep.”

Emma barely had time to latch on to the corners of the desk when the entire thing tipped forward from the force of his entering thrust. Relentlessly, he pounded into her, egged on by the jeers, cheers, and taunts of the crowd.

“Keep your eyes open, wench,” a voice demanded from the masses. “We wanna see you watching us take pleasure in your degradation.”

The green light commanded that she do just that, the silhouettes from behind the thinly veiled screens leaving little to the imagination of how much the audience was enjoying the show.

“She can keep her eyes on the lot of you,” the irritating woman’s voice said. “I want the Captain’s eyes back on me.” When the green light agreed, Emma could practically hear the woman’s gloating expression in her words. “Cast those come fuck me eyes this way, Captain.”

He must have complied, prompting her to purr, “Oooo, you are a wicked one, aren’t you. Would you like to have your wicked way with me? Tell me all the wicked things you’d like to do to me.”

With effort, given the pounding he was giving her, Emma managed to look back over her shoulder in time to see him flash the woman a wide, yet sinister smile before grunting, “I’d like to shove a gag in your mouth to shut you the fuck up.”

Applause rang out, as did a round of laughter, and Killian turned his attention back to Emma and the brutal pace he was setting.

“Fuck, you’re so wet,” he panted on a half groan. “So wet and so tight.”

“That’s it, Captain,” the crowd encouraged over the barrage of their own moans and sounds of satisfaction. “Take her. Use her. Breed her.”

“Yes!” someone cried out. “Breed her! Fill her for us, Captain. I wanna see your cum leak out of her afterward.”

The Captain roared from his release moments later, his fingers digging into her sides to the point of bruising as his hips moved erratically against her ass. Once every last drop had been coaxed from him, he collapsed and fell forward, sprawling across her back as his chest fought for each breath. Around them the sounds and smells of others reaching their own climax filled the air, then for a brief yet glorious moment, things went quiet.

One final swath of green filled her vision, and Killian murmured into her ear, “Stay there, love. One last task, I’m afraid.”

He removed himself from her and she immediately felt the warmth of his release slip from her depths and trickle down her thighs. He gave her ass a quick, firm slap, then spread her cheeks, allowing everyone to see the proof of his conquest as the platform turned one last time.

When the platform came to a stop, a curtain dropped, surrounding the stage and separating them from the audience's view. Killian assisted Emma off the desk and swept her up into his arms before taking them over to the chaise where he could sit and cradle her in his lap. They held each other as their skin cooled, their heartbeats regulated, and their breathing calmed.

“You were wonderful, Swan,” he praised, his fingers gliding across her back and down her side. “I’m so proud of you, love.”

“You, too,” she murmured against his chest, barely able to keep her eyes open, the exhaustion created from both their exertions and the stress of the situation starting to take hold.

“Here. Have her put this on.” A voice caused them both to jump and Emma’s head snapped to where a Lost One stood a few feet away with a robe offered in his outstretched hand.

Killian took it from him and draped it around her shoulders, then helped her to stand so she could secure it around herself.

“Follow me,” the Lost One commanded, setting off towards the door they had entered hours before.

“Are you okay to walk?” Killian asked, his tone full of concern and laced with guilt.

“I’m good,” she assured him. Tucking herself into his side, she added, “But I might need to lean on you a bit.”

“Lean on me all you need,” he told her, wrapping an arm around her waist. “But I don’t mind carrying you.” She flicked her eyes up at him and smiled when his Captain’s persona took hold once more. A surprised yelp squeaked past her lips when he bent down and swept her feet out from under her. Straightening, he adjusted her weight in his arms and cheeked, “I’ve carried rum barrels heavier than the likes of you, wench. So, I’ll have no argument.”

“Aye, aye, Captain.”

~/~

Killian gazed up at the ceiling, his arm wrapped around Emma as she lay curled into his side, the smell of her floral shampoo and conditioner tickling his sinuses. After they’d finished entertaining Pan’s guests, the Lost One had led them to the showers so they could clean up. They’d both been almost too spent and exhausted to wash, much less talk, and little had been said on the way back to their room, while dressing, or even after they’d crawled into bed.

While Emma had drifted off within moments of her head hitting the pillow, Killian had been unable to do so. Too many thoughts were competing in his mind. Thoughts of Emma playing her part as the defiant wench, the memory of her on her knees, splayed out on the chaise, and bent over the desk threatening to make him hard again. Thoughts of the crowd and how he hadn’t expected the proprietary feelings of satisfaction that had coursed through him as he took his wench in their full view, claiming her for his own. Thoughts of what those actions would mean for them now, knowing he had finished inside her without protection. Thoughts of everything the two of them had been through since they had awoken, naked, in bed together all those weeks ago, and… thoughts of what Pan might have in store for them next.

It was these thoughts that were keeping him awake the most.

“Penny for your thoughts?” Emma said groggily, her fingers twirling through the hair on his chest as she sleepily looked up at him.

Furtively, he glanced down at her then back up, unwilling to voice his thoughts to her just yet. Despite everything they’d been through, she seemed so content. In this moment she was safe and happy and hopeful.

He did not wish to deprive her of that.

“Hey,” she said, concern coloring her tone. Reaching up, she cupped his cheek and pulled his face back down, forcing him to look at her. “Tell me. What’s eating you up?” Propping herself up on her elbow, her brows pulled together and a slightly panicked expression crossed her face. “Please tell me you’re not beating yourself up about tonight. You know I would never hold any of that against you, right?”

“Aye, I know,” he responded quickly, not wishing for her to believe for a moment that his trepidations had anything to do with her. “It’s just…”

“Just what?”

“I just… I wonder whether we,” he paused, taking a moment to swallow and fortify his resolve before confessing, “Whether we made the right decision.”

Confusion rooted deeper in her expression. “What do you mean?”

“Don’t you… don’t you wonder why he let us call them?” he said, his fingers gently stroking her arm as a way to ground himself and hopefully keep her feeling connected to him as he attempted to voice his concerns. “Why he made it seem like agreeing to do what we did was the only choice we could make?”

“It was the only choice,” Emma countered emphatically. “Being separated from one another isn’t an option I--”

“But that’s just it,” he argued. “Maybe that’s the choice we should have made.”

Emma pulled back as though he’d just slapped her, and his heart broke at the vulnerability and hurt he saw displayed upon her face and in the tremor of her next words. “Are you… Have I done something to make you not want to…”

Sitting up, he took her face in his hands, leveled his gaze with hers, and assured her, “No. No, please don’t misunderstand me. Being separated from you is the last thing I would ever wish for. I just think that…”

Emma reached up and took his hands into her own, cradling them in her lap as she spoke. “Alright. Talk me through what you’re thinking, then. Why do you think it was a mistake to agree with his demands and stay together?”

Killian’s Adam’s apple bobbed and he drew in a deep breath, not wishing to voice his concerns for fear of making them real. He’d rather them both be prepared for the possibility, though. Everything they’d faced, they’d faced together. Choosing together. He didn’t want this to be any different.

“Each round of Pan’s demented game has escalated things between us,” he began. “First, it was stripping away our vulnerability. Forcing us to reveal things about ourselves that we would never normally reveal.”

Emma nodded and squeezed his hands. “Go on.”

Wetting his lips, he continued. “The second round was all about taking advantage of our attraction towards each other and getting us comfortable with sharing physical intimacy. This third round challenged and exploited the lines of physical intimacy we were willing to explore with one another.”

“Yeah,” she replied. “Each round has ratched up the stakes of our experience here, making us more and more compliant.”

“And each round’s rewards and penalties have reflected that.” He held her gaze with an intensity he hoped would lead her into understanding where he was going without him having to say it explicitly.

Unfortunately, she wasn’t quite getting it.

“I still don’t understand why you think it might have been best if we’d chosen to be separated.”

“What if the next escalation, or the one after that, is…” He swallowed past the bile working its way up his throat, “...actual harm to each other. Violence.”

Emma balked and her mouth dropped open with a gasp. Clearly, such a thought had not occurred to her until now.

“What if Pan makes us hurt each other? What then?” he continued on, pulling her into his arms and whispering the rest into her hair in a tone of apology. “Maybe he tricked us into staying together? Maybe we would be better off separated, because… Now we have to face what it would mean to have hurt someone we… how are we supposed to respond when faced with the command to injure the other? What would you have me do if Pan orders me to…”

Thoughts of the unthinkable made it impossible for him to continue, but after a few moments Emma pulled back and ran her fingers down the side of his face.

“We’ve already made our choice to stay together. There’s no point in wondering whether or not it was the right one.”

Killian nuzzled his face into her hand then turned his head to place a kiss on her palm.

“Besides,” she said, his tough lass straightening her shoulders and setting her resolve. “If Pan commands that one of us is to be harmed, then the harm will happen regardless.”

Killian cocked his head to one side, not completely sure what she meant by that statement.

Fortunately, she clarified, saying, “Either one of us will administer the injury, or he’ll have one of his Lost Ones do it. Either way… the injury will occur. There’s nothing either of us can do to stop it from happening.”

“Aye. You’re right,” Killian replied. “I suppose the thing we must ask ourselves is whether we can endure the guilt, and every other emotion that might come with it, should we be the one to inflict such pain on the other.”

Several silent beats of his heart went by before she softly, yet hesitantly asked, “Could you?”

Killian took another beat to truly consider the question. The question he’d been considering for most of the night. If Pan commanded it, could he hurt the woman he loved?

“No,” he stated definitively. “It’s one thing to administer a spanking to you, and quite another to…” He balled his hand into a fist and stared down at it, his Adam’s apple bobbing painfully. “The thought of putting my fist to you… I can’t. I won’t.” Gazing back up at her, he added, “And I won’t fault you for having a Lost One mete out Pan’s orders on me either. Especially if it will save you from having to carry that guilt, love.”

Emma nodded her understanding and acceptance, then prompted him to lie back down beside her. “Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that,” she whispered softly, though there was very little hope in her tone.

“Aye, love. Let’s hope so.”

Part Ten - Coming Soon!

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