#also he just finished having sex with jasper

[womansound]

imessage          ›          heyyy jude ☀️

KWAN: if ur dad sends u a birthday card KWAN: even if ur birthday is in october KWAN: do u think he'll send one again but like with cash in a few months? or KWAN: lol

[exitpursuedbyavulcan]

Studious IV (Aemond Targaryen x Reader) 18+

You continue reading Aemond's diary. As his true feelings for you become ever more clear, can you decipher your own feelings for him?

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x fem!reader (second person, no use of Y/N)

Warnings: Aemond in his smut writer era (semi-public sex, p in v sex, tiddy suckin', riding, fingering, oral sex f receiving, bad sex)

Author's Note: So sorry for the delay! But this baby is 11K words, so hopefully that makes up for it! Also, I tried for a long time to format this like the others, but tumblr wouldn't let me post it if I did, so the formatting is a little different here.

Read Part I Here - Read Part II Here - Read Part III Here

My Masterlist

Taglist will be done via reblogs (there are simply too many of you to fit here)

Studious IV

You were never setting foot in the library again.

Not after what you just read. Not when you were sure that the mere memory of it would have you bursting into flames the moment you crossed the threshold.

Good gods, only a few entries ago, Aemond could hardly bring himself to write the word ‘cunt,’ and now this? What in the Seven Hells were his advisors – Grand Maester Orwyle, Lord Jasper Wylde, and Prince Aegon – teaching him?

You weren’t sure whether the odd feeling in your stomach was due to how much you ate – an entire meat pie and five tea cakes, all washed down with a pot and a half of raspberry tea – or what you had just read.

Either way, it was not enough to stop you from glancing about your bedchamber to ensure no one was watching you and then rereading the entry from the beginning.

The 16th day in the 5th moon of the year.

I have just returned from the library. Grand Maester Orwyle suggested that I consult a book on anatomy. Since there was no business of court I was required to attend today, I asked one of the librarians to help me retrieve the title after I finished my training.

I also found a few books Aegon recommended, only after I dismissed the librarian – I did not want him to know that I took those. Or that I even knew what they were. Gossip abounds in the capital, and I do not wish to be the subject of more than I already am.

By the titles alone, I am surprised Mother allows them to remain in the Keep. I likely will not read most of them. Aegon has already traumatised me quite thoroughly. I see no reason to allow him to ruin reading for me, as well. Although one title, ‘A Caution for Young Girls,’ seems innocent enough.

But the books are not why I am writing now, when my usual routine is to write immediately before I retire to bed. I just… I need to commit this to paper before it leaves me entirely.

On my way out of the library, I saw her. My wife – if I die tomorrow or in a hundred years, I shall never tire of calling her that.

She has quickly found the more private areas of the library, it seems. I would never have seen her if I had not been considering going there to read myself.

It must mean something that she did not choose just any of the countless hidden places within the maze of the library, but my favourite – a secluded alcove along the western wall. An indicator of our compatibility, perhaps. Or even a sign from the gods?

Had the books I’d been carrying not been so… unsuitable, I would have asked to join her.

No, I wouldn’t have. That would require far more courage than I can summon when I see her.

I just stared at her, watching her face as she read. From where I stood, I could not see what she was reading. But I could see her, and that was enough.

She is so expressive! I saw her both smile and frown in quick succession, and once, her entire face scrunched in displeasure as if she had just taken a bite of lemon! Gods, how can even such an unpleasant expression be so beautiful?

Perhaps I should not have watched her at all, for the longer I stood there, the further my mind drifted. And then, I heard Aegon’s voice, as clearly as if he were standing beside me.

‘Don’t limit yourself to the bedchamber brother, or even the bed! A wall or a table serves just as well. And there is a certain thrill to knowing you could be discovered…’

Damn him. Why did I ever ask for his assistance? I would have been better off enlisting the help of an actual whore! At least then, the vulgarity would not come from the future King. Damn him to the deepest of the Seven Hells.

But that stupid advice echoed in my mind over and over. And against my will and better judgement, an image began to form. A dream – a waking dream.

Though my feet remained planted on the floor, I imagined setting aside my books and joining her in that alcove. She would look up and smile upon hearing my approach, perhaps even giggle at my attempt at stealth.

I would sit beside her and ask what she was reading. I might even ask her to read to me. But I would not let her read for long.

I would kiss her while she read. Not on her lips but all over her perfect face. Her cheeks, her forehead, on the tip of her nose. All just to distract her, to make her laugh. Only when she made so much noise that I feared discovery would I kiss her lips to quiet her and finally claim my prize.

The kiss would not be like in the Sept, or in her chambers that night. Instead, she would kiss me back and open herself to me. I would kiss her, and kiss her, and kiss her. Until we were both out of breath but still wanting more.

Seeing her like that, with her lips swollen and cheeks flushed… I would not be able to wait until we returned to our chambers. I would lift her onto that very table, books be damned.

Like our wedding night, we would not undress. We would be in too much of a hurry.

But even hurried, I would be gentle. I would take the time to prepare her, as Lord Wylde said I must do every time. Doing so makes the experience more pleasurable for the woman, he says. And Orwyle added that her enjoyment makes it more likely that the coupling will be fruitful.

Gods, I hardly care about that anymore. Of course, I want an heir, or several. But I want her more. I want her to feel as much pleasure as I do. To ‘peak,’ as Wylde and Orwyle put it. Aegon uses other words, but I find them too vulgar.

And in the library, making an heir would be the last thing on my mind. Even finding my own pleasure would be secondary. I would use my fingers to prepare her – perhaps get her to peak once before I even enter her?

Aegon says women can find release much more than men can. According to him, he once made a woman peak ten times in one night. I would be more amenable to believing him if he didn’t also claim he did so five times. But maybe he is right about ‘practising’ increasing stamina. Though he has had years of practice, and I have had only two days…

But in the dream world where I have the courage to approach her at all, and the gall to bed her in the library of all places (can you call it ‘bedding’ if it is not done in an actual bed?), I also have that stamina. And the skill to indeed make her peak with just my fingers.

I do not know what sounds she would make, as she was entirely silent on our wedding night, but I would want her to make them. I would want her to make such noise that I would have no choice but to kiss her to quiet her and keep her from drawing the attention of the rest of the library.

Even when I was buried within her, I would kiss her. With one arm wrapped around her hips to hold her steady as I fucked her so hard the table would shake, and the other hand tangled in her hair so I could kiss her just as hard.

I want to kiss her so badly. When I finally go to her again, that is what I will do first.

Once we had both finished – for I would ensure she peaked again with me inside her – I would kiss her more, softly, until our breathing steadied. Then, we would simply take our seats again, and this time, I would read to her.

By all the Seven, what has become of me? To not only have such thoughts but to revel in them as I do?

You didn’t bother reading the rest of the entry again before clutching the diary to your chest and staring at the bed canopy above you as a thousand questions burned through your mind and set your heart racing.

Had he been thinking about that the day he came to you in the library?

Was it what he intended to do, had you not reacted so poorly to his words?

Were you really wishing that he had?

You turned on your side, cradling his diary as you once did a small stuffed pony, and noticed for the first time that night had fallen – you had spent nearly the entire day reading. For a moment, you considered running to Aemond’s chambers. But when you looked back at the journal, there were still more than a dozen ribbons shut in its pages.

And if you went to him just after reading what you did…

Whatever was becoming of Aemond, no doubt thanks to the men he had asked for help in better bedding you, by reading his diary and the most private thoughts and fantasies contained within, it was becoming of you too. For when your eyes drifted closed, Aemond’s dream of the library became your dream as well.

-

The next several days of entries were almost identical.

Aemond woke at dawn after a night of dreams filled with you. They were not always of a carnal nature. Sometimes he dreamed simply of holding or kissing you. Once, he dreamed about flying with you atop his dragon. You didn’t know whether the prospect was thrilling or terrifying. Perhaps both.

Each day, he broke his fast, trained, then ate a small meal before joining court.

Before joining you.

When he wrote in the diary after dinner and several hours of studying and ‘practising’ (you still could not determine what that meant), he still remembered every little thing you did. You had never spoken at court – it was not your place to. But he had catalogued your every movement and reaction to the business of the realm. Every raise of your brows, every repressed smile, and every curious tilt of your head.

You thought you were quite proficient at maintaining a regal mask of indifference. Your mother had you practice it on the journey to King’s Landing while she commanded your brothers to shout at you the most outrageous things they could think of (much of which she promptly scolded them for when they were done).

But Aemond saw through the mask. Not only that, but he correctly interpreted every movement you made.

He knew that the twitch of your lip when Lord Bolton made a petition was a sign of your marked distaste for the man. He knew the scrunch of your brow upon the reading of a missive from a Pentosi diplomat was you noticing a contradiction from the previous message and realising the diplomat was lying. And he knew that you stiffened every time he looked at you because you were nervous about what he would say or do.

Aemond knew you. Even then.

And yet you had so dreadfully misunderstood him.

The shame of it was enough to make you set down the diary and call for a bath – a private bath, without any of your maids present even in the adjourning rooms. You gave an excuse that you were exhausted and simply wished to remain alone.

But really?

As part of his study of the anatomy book Orwyle recommended, Aemond had drawn a diagram of what lay between a woman’s legs. And annotated it based on the advice of Lord Wylde and Prince Aegon.

You were curious to see – with the aid of a hand mirror – just how accurate the diagram and annotations were.

-

You awoke the following morning feeling more refreshed than you had since you came to the palace, from both the welcome break in your courtly duties and the exploration you had conducted in the privacy of your bath. Though you were fairly sure you did not reach a ‘peak,’ as Aemond described it, you felt close to the height of something several times. But each time, you panicked at the intensity of the racing feelings within you and withdrew your hand. Still, those few minutes of pleasure were incredibly relaxing.

And as it was Aemond’s notes that allowed you to discover the feeling that your own clumsy attempts had failed to bring, the prospect that you would – eventually – once more join him in his bed became thrilling beyond reason.

In truth, the only thing that stopped you from rushing across the castle the very moment you emerged from the bath was the unfortunate fact that you were still bleeding, though it was light.

More than that, while your body was more than ready to forgive Aemond, your heart and mind were still hesitant. He had hurt you. He made you cry. Reading his diary helped you understand that it had never been intentional. However, you still needed to understand everything before making a final decision on whether to forgive him and if you could, as Aemond hoped in his note, ‘learn to like’ or even to love him.

So, after breaking your fast, you again settled into the couch and turned to the next green ribbon.

The 23rd day in the 5th moon of the year

Were Aegon not my brother and the heir, I would throw him from the top of the Rookery.

‘A Caution for Young Girls’ is no such thing. It is little more than a manual in promiscuity and sin!

But… damn him. It is quite educational.

Unlike the book Grand Maester Orwyle suggested, it is not focused on the science of anatomy or conception. Rather, it is entirely concerned with the pleasure of women. After all, it is the supposedly true story of a woman’s quest for pleasure.

A Wylde woman, if it is to be believed. I may have to ask Lord Jasper about it. Is this why he’s had such success with his own wives?

But that, and indeed the sinful nature of the book itself, is unimportant. What is important is that it may actually be the key to my learning how to pleasure my wife.

It spoke at length of various methods of using one’s fingers. Crooking the fingers while within seems to be crucial, as is locating a ‘sweet spot’ where her walls feel slightly different. That spot, as well as the ‘pearl’ which lays at the top of her sex, is the epicentre of her pleasure.

And, like the others said, preparation is required. This is where the use of the fingers comes into it – as well as various other methods. For example, the book mentions kissing quite often, and not only on the lips. Or the cheeks. Or even anywhere on the face.

I admit the idea, though it is new to me, is quite appealing. The book mentioned several places where women most like to be kissed. The jaw, the throat, behind the ear, the nape of the neck, the collarbone…

There was a spot of ink, as though Aemond’s pen had been resting on the page without moving for a long moment.

…the breasts, and lower.

I do not understand why. Perhaps it is because of Aegon’s incessant comments about the breasts of every woman in the Keep, save our mother and his wife – would that he would also exclude my wife! – but I find myself thinking about her breasts with startling frequency. I did not get to see them on our wedding night after I foolishly forgot to undress her.

There is a story in the book which… well, I find myself wanting to replicate. One which would provide me ample access to her breasts. But more than that, it carries an intimacy which I crave most of all.

When Lady Coryanne was serving as a handmaid to a warlock in Qarth, she often found herself called to help him ‘relax’ after a long day. On such occasions, she would mount him while he sat at his desk and ‘ride’ him while he buried his face in her breasts.

I… it was easy to imagine my wife and me in a similar, though more loving, position. Likely not at my desk, as I don’t actually use it often. But perhaps, here. On my chair by the hearth, where I read my books and write in this diary before bed.

She would come back – for she would be living here, with me, not across the Holdfast and so far away – after a long day. Maybe she would have been in the gardens, or with Mother, Helaena and the children, or in the library for hours. I would have been stuck away from her all day in meetings, court, or training.

Even apart from her for only a day, I would miss her terribly. As I do every hour I do not see her. And she would miss me too.

When she came in, she would press herself against the door as she locked it, then turn to me with a mischievous grin. I would know what she wanted, but I would not play along. Instead, I’d mutter a greeting and turn back to my book, pretending that my blood was not racing at just the sight of her. For I want her blood to be as heated as mine.

You read the last paragraph again, the realisation finally set in that Aemond was about to narrate another of his fantasies. Fortunately, after his previous entry about the library, you decided to be more cautious and had already dismissed your servants until your afternoon meal. You had suspected that there may be more in the diary that was thoroughly unsuitable for prying eyes.

And, thanks to his diligent notetaking, you knew precisely what to do when the feelings such unsuitable words provoked began to burn through you.

You undoubtedly did not want an audience for that…

I would let her tease me, pretending none of it fazed me. When she brushed her fingers lightly across my shoulders, I would not flinch. When she leaned over me further than she would really need to see what I was reading, but wanting me to see that peek of her breasts nearly spilling out from her dress, I would barely look. And when she pressed a kiss, long and slow, to my neck – gods, would I like that too? – I might even pretend it was an inconvenience.

It would vex her that I did not give her the attention she desperately wanted. Not enough to truly anger her, but only enough to make her pout. So that when she took the book from my hands and dropped it to the floor, then sat atop me in the chair with her thighs straddling mine… I would simply have no choice but to grab her little lip as she stuck it out and push it back into place before kissing her.

I would kiss her in every place the book instructs, taking my time to worship every bit of her. I want to drive her as mad as she does me just by her mere existence.

But I know she would not simply let me tease her. She would return each kiss I gave her and more. Atop me, she would roll her hips slowly, purposefully, as if we were engaged in a dance. I would be able to feel her, hot and wet and as eager as me, but each time I rose to meet her, she would pull away.

Gods, am I really wishing for her to deny me? Perhaps practising as Aegon instructed has conditioned me to crave such delays to my satisfaction.

Either way, I think I would break before she did. She is strong-willed, and with as many brothers as she has, I believe she can be quite patient. So, I would beg. I would apologise for trying to tease her and plead for her forgiveness. And for her to…

She would, I hope, without hesitation. She would rise only long enough for her to remove her smallclothes and for me to do away with my trousers. Then, we would both sit again, together, with me gently guiding her down to mount me – Seven Hells, that makes it sound like I’m a horse.

I’ll be whatever she wants.

Again, and as always, I would give her a moment to adjust and make sure she is comfortable. Orwyle’s book said that with well-endowed partners – which, according to the measurements in the book, I am – women may always need that moment.

But I would be glad to give it to her. For it would allow me to unlace her bodice, and like the warlock from the book, I could bury my face in my beloved’s breasts.

I find it hard to imagine what it would be like, how they would feel. Soft, I think. Warm, as she is. And perhaps, if I pressed close enough, I could hear her heart beating.

When I was fully settled within her, would I hear it beat faster? Or would it slow with contentment, knowing she was safe and loved – oh so dearly loved – within my arms. Perhaps it would be like the stories, and I would hear it skip a beat.

Either way, I would be more than content to just sit there, breathe her in, and let her move at her own pace. We would not need to be fast, as we would in the library. In my own rooms – our rooms – there would be no need for hurry. We could just stay there, entwined, or we could move together.

I think I would prefer it slowly. Not even seeking our releases, really. Just… enjoying each other. Enjoying the connection of our bodies, our minds, and our souls. Knowing that we are one, that the gods have made us one, and that nothing can tear us apart.

Although… I do think her legs would get tired after a while. That is something I should perhaps be worried about. Especially if she did want to move, and fast. To seek release.

If she did, I would help her. The book did not detail how, as Lady Coryanne was a servant at the time, but… I could figure it out. I could move my hips up to meet hers, or even lift her on my own? I think doing so with my hands on her hips would give me the most leverage. Or perhaps her rear?

I am very drawn to the idea of holding her close as we reach our peaks. Of feeling her breath on my skin, being close enough to hear each little noise she makes, and the sensation of her gripping me as tight as she can as she comes. Even the thought of her nails digging into me brings a certain thrill. And if I don’t reach my peak with her – which, I think, is very unlikely – we can always continue. Or move somewhere more comfortable if her legs do get tired.

At this point, I think I am more than ready to practice. Of course, this wasn’t my intention when I started writing, but… yes, I am most definitely ready. And anything else I wanted to write about seems inconsequential now.

You dropped the diary onto your heaving chest, the image Aemond’s words had painted still burning in your mind. Seven Hells, you could practically feel his strong arms wrapped around you, holding you to his chest as you moved together, his breath hot against your neck as he whispered words of praise between desperate kisses.

With a hazy smile, you snuggled further into the couch and beneath your blanket. As exhilarating as the descriptions of his desires were, what truly warmed your heart was the way he wrote about you, the two of you together.

The connection of your souls as one? It was exactly what you’d dreamed of when first told of your betrothal. Aemond was what you dreamed of.

Why did he have to stop writing? What in the name of the Seven was he practising that was more important than that?

Frustrated and with your pleasure now truly over, you closed the diary and turned on your side, resigned to simply stewing in your own thoughts for the few hours left until your maids returned.

-

After a light, solitary afternoon meal, you again dismissed your maids. By this point, they were more than a little suspicious about the titleless book you were reading. But, you insisted that you simply wanted to be alone, for your moon’s blood still plagued you. It wasn’t entirely a lie. You did still have some cramping and a slight headache.

In truth, it was because you knew what would happen in just a few entries – your second night together.

It surely wouldn’t be as thrilling as some of his other fantasies. You knew that firsthand. But after learning what Aemond felt for you, you were desperate to know his side of that night.

So desperate, in fact, that you barely skimmed the following two entries in your haste to reach it. Both primarily had to do with whatever smut he had read in A Caution for Young Girls. The first was a rather exhaustive list of all the ways he wanted to kiss you – and there were far more ways than you were previously aware of.

The second caused your most intense blushing yet, for it was near treasonous! After reading another story of Coryanne Wylde ‘riding’ a man, he fantasised about you riding him while he sat on the Iron Throne. It was an intriguing idea, but it seemed a little too hazardous to tempt you.

Finally, you reached what you had been waiting for.

The 26th day in the 5th moon of the year.

I had hoped not to make an entry today – for I had every intention of spending tonight in my wife’s chambers. But she is there, and tragically, I am here.

Tonight was almost worse than our wedding night.

When I saw her watching me in the training yard today, I thought… she was almost smiling – at me! She had no obligation to be there, and yet she was! She sought me out! She wanted to see me!

I had to bite back a cry of joy and relief. I immediately abandoned the rest of my training, nearly impaling the poor squire with my sword for how hard I threw it at him, so I could rush to the ramparts and greet her.

But when I got there, she was gone. I asked a few of the other lords and ladies that were there, but no one knew where she went. Even after speaking to her, however briefly, I still do not understand why she left.

You felt your cheeks flush with shame. Aemond hadn’t grimaced at you that day – quite the opposite. He had been so excited to see you there, and as usual, you had misinterpreted his reaction.

Or, based on how frequently these misunderstandings occurred, perhaps his expressions were merely indecipherable to normal people. Or, more likely, maybe just to you.

You set his diary down, careful to use one of your discarded ribbons to mark your place, and picked up your own. By this point, you had filled several pages with your reactions to Aemond’s writing – some of it sincere, some bordering on humour.

Yet you had no words to express how sorry you were that you had so thoroughly misjudged him. So you wrote nothing and just kept reading.

When I went to her chambers to check on her, I encountered one of her maids, who told me she had retired early with a headache and would not be joining the family for dinner.

Perhaps I should have gone into her chambers then and asked what was wrong. I knew – or at least suspected – that the headache was a lie. An excuse to allow her privacy. I often do the same, citing my scar. Which, as I told her, is not always a lie.

But if I had gone to her, as I wished. I would not have known what to say. Ask her why she ran from the training yard without speaking to me? Or why she wanted to avoid me and the family? Tell her I’m sorry for the disappointment of our wedding night? Ask Beg for a second chance?

I could not do it. I was tired from training and admittedly still somewhat discombobulated from realising she had been watching me. Though I did make it to her door, I merely touched the handle for a moment before retiring to my own chambers.

Now, after yet another disastrous visit… I should have gone to her earlier. I should have trusted my instincts (as Aegon often encourages me to do) instead of allowing my mind to think itself into an inescapable hole.

As I bathed and redressed, and even while attending court and dinner, I could not stop thinking about her. Agonising over what I may have done to make her flee from me?

I never even considered that she may actually have a headache until I was again at her door after dinner. The fear that I was disturbing her, perhaps making her pain worse, was nearly enough to make me turn and flee.

But then, her voice came, soft and light and so enticing. Of course, I somehow managed to answer idiotically when she asked who it was. Though she lessened the sting of embarrassment with a small joke. She is so achingly clever!

I asked her how she was, and her answer made it evident that the headache was a ruse. I am trying not to be too proud that my deduction was correct. She is not used to lying, nor is she good at it. And it is yet another thing I admire about her.

For hours, I planned what I would say to her. It was eloquent and thoughtful – practically poetry.   

The tail of the last ‘y’ extended nearly an inch, and you imagined Aemond just staring at the page, consumed by his thoughts for a moment.

But her room looked different tonight. She finally unpacked.

There is a large tapestry above her hearth depicting her home keep, the field below filled with vibrant pink flowers with bright yellow centres. The same flowers appear nearly everywhere. On framed examples of embroidery, on her curtains, pillows, and even the blanket strewn over the back of her couch.

I must find out what they are, for they are clearly very important to her.

You looked up from the diary, glancing about your room. Indeed, you had not realised how many dog roses decorated your possessions. It was no wonder he guessed they were your favourite.

‘I was quite impressed when you brought me my favourite flower,’ you wrote in your diary. ‘I thought you had somehow read my thoughts. I suppose I made it easy for you.’

She also has a large bookcase in her sitting room, which was specifically requested when her father sent word accepting the betrothal. Since the last time I was in her chambers, she has begun to fill the shelves with books and trinkets. I spotted a small silver bell, a wooden box carved with various birds, and a little glass flower. It was not the same flower that is so prevalent elsewhere in her chambers (this one was a pale purple rather than pink), but still quite pretty.

While pondering that flower, I returned to the couch to compare it to the pink flower on her blanket and saw what she had been reading – “The Last Dragonlords,” my first, and still favourite, history of my house. It is not a particularly rigorous academic work, but I prefer it for the sense of wonder it has for the story of my ancestors.

If, at that point, I remembered any of what I wanted to say to her, the sight of that book, and the knowledge that she was somehow reading my favourite… I lost all words. I fear I fell silent for an uncomfortably long time, for she spoke next.

She wanted to know the reason for my visit. I asked her directly about the ruse of her headache. She seemed nervous, so I told her I do the same and that I often experience lingering pain. I was tempted to remove my patch and show her, but… she was already quite nervous. I did not want to make her more so, or frighten her so thoroughly that she will never warm to me.

What lay beneath his eyepatch that would frighten you so? You had heard many rumours. That his lost eye was nothing more than a pit of darkness. That he had replaced it with a jewel. That an ever-burning fire, fueled by his hatred and rage, burned within.

Despite the stories, you felt a twinge of shame and hurt that, despite his love for you, he did not trust you with seeing him truly bare. He thought you could be frightened away.

Somehow, that shame far overshadowed any curiosity or fear about what lay beneath the brown leather of his eyepatch.

I could already tell it wasn’t going to go how I wanted – she would not meet my eye. So, I offered to leave. I would not impose myself on her when she did not want me to. That is not how I want to start this. Or, start it again.

But she did want me to go! At least, that is what I thought she meant. I am not so sure anymore. She said something about my right to be there as her husband. At the time, I thought it was her shy way of asking me to stay. Now… I think she may have just been repeating something her mother or a Septa taught her.

There was another small patch of angry scribbles.

I’m so stupid! And hardly better than Aegon. No – she may not have been particularly enthusiastic, but I am sure if she genuinely did not want me there, she would have said so. And I would have obeyed. After all, she was quick to ask me to stop some of the other things I tried to do.

She did not like the kissing.

When I first mentioned that I would like to lie with her – which I foolishly reasoned was out of my desire for an heir instead of my desire for her – she simply laid on the bed like on our wedding night. But that is not what I want. I do not want this to simply be a union of duty! At least, not anymore. And I so wanted to kiss her.

So, I beckoned her to me, and she obeyed. My hopes that this would be different were still relatively high. I got closer, touched her face, and asked if I could kiss her.

And she asked, ‘Why?’

I swear that one little word hurt more than any pain I’ve felt in the training yard. Almost more than… well, not quite more than that. But close.

I could not think of any reason other than that she is my wife, and I love her and want more than anything to kiss her. I only told her the former and the latter, for I think if I told her I loved her, she would have been more afraid than if she had seen me without my patch. And the gods must be good, for she said yes.

Then I kissed her. I held her close, and I kissed her.

It was the most wonderful thing! She was soft and warm. And when I laced my hand through her hair, she made the most delightful sound! I could have just kissed her forever.

But then it was over. She shouted and pushed me away. It was… it was just after I tried to use my tongue. I don’t think she liked it.

She asked me why I ‘needed’ to kiss her. She must have disliked it very much.

I had no other explanation than what I had already offered. At least, none that I could tell her without sending her running from me forever. So I stopped and told her I did not need it – the first lie I’ve ever told her.

When she moved back to the bed, I could not help myself. I could not let us be in a marriage where we lie together out of nothing more than duty, fully clothed and anxious to get it over with. It was foolish, and I probably scared her with the request, but I asked her to remove her nightgown. She had already taken off her robe – a massive thing in her house colours that practically drowns her.

You allowed a brief kernel of anger to spark within you, enough for you to pick up your pen and write him another little message in your diary.

‘That robe is dear to me, thank you very much. What is it that makes you hate it so?’

There is nothing more beautiful in the world than her. She puts even the Maiden to shame. I would have been happy to stare at her, to take in that beauty until I had my fill – if I would ever get my fill.

She got on the bed and positioned herself exactly how she was on our wedding night. Not quite how I pictured it, but considering her hesitancy, I did not want to push her.

It took all my control to stop myself from kissing her again when I undressed and joined her. But I did. I also resisted doing anything more than just looking at her breasts.

I sat between her legs and stared at her. While I was more than ready to begin, she was not. At all. Of course, I knew I would have to prepare her, but I hoped she would have had at least some desire for me already.

I started with gentle touches, drawing circles on her thighs. She shivered a bit when I began, but she didn’t ask me to stop. From where I was sitting, I could tell she enjoyed it, even if she didn’t understand it. She did ask me to explain, and my answer was probably lacking – how does one explain why he was so inadequate? – but she gave a small nod when I promised that tonight would be better.

Then I finally touched her where I really wanted to and was delighted to find her… well, not as wet as I’d hoped, but it was an improvement upon our wedding night! I ran my fingers over her entrance, hoping to coax more wetness from her before I truly began. And when I looked at her again to ensure I wasn’t hurting her, she smiled at me!

Encouraged, I kept my fingers at her entrance, not venturing inside yet, but continuing my preparations there while I began to seek her pearl. As the books said, I only had to draw a straight line upward from her entrance to find it.

And, oh, when I found it! Her eyes snapped shut, her back arched off the bed, and the most glorious whine escaped her! It was everything I had imagined and more. Gods, I think I could have peaked just from watching her as I circled her pearl again and again, faster and faster.

But then, she asked me to stop – begged me to.

I thought I must have done something wrong, but she shook her head when I asked if it hurt. And when I asked if it felt good, she would not answer. She merely requested that I get on with what I needed to do and leave, for she was tired. This wound cut even deeper than before with the kissing.

I wanted to prepare her more – I was going to use my mouth on her. To show her how dearly I wish to please her, how much I want to worship and love her, if only she’d let me.

In anticipation of that act, I have been consulting Coryanne Wylde’s various accounts and expert critiques of the act in order to form the perfect strategy.

To begin, I would undress her, as I planned to do on our wedding night, laying gentle, nearly chaste kisses on each new bit of skin I revealed. Once she was bare, I would kiss her. Deeply. To give her a taste of what is to come. Then, I would kiss my way down. Her jaw, her throat, her collarbone, her breasts, and the plane of her stomach.

Once I made it past her navel, I would take her leg in my hand and begin a new trail of kisses upwards. The book says to start at the ankle, but I am too impatient for that – I will begin at the knee instead.

Just when she thought I was finally about to give her what she craved more than anything, I would once again change course to kiss her lips one final time. Then, I would descend.

I would start slowly, experimenting with different tactics to determine what drives her deliciously mad. Once I knew, I would feast. I would devour her like her pleasure was the air I needed to breathe. Like her cries of pleasure were beautiful music, and I would die if it ever stopped.

I would bring her to peak once with my mouth on her entrance. Again on her pearl. Then again and again in whichever way made her scream the loudest.

Only when she was so drunk with pleasure that she could no longer rise to meet my mouth or grasp at my hair would I relent. I would make my way back up to her mouth and soothe her with gentle kisses until she had regained herself and was begging for me to finally fuck her.

But I didn’t get to do any of that.

She asked me to stop, so I did. I pumped myself a little to ensure the disappointment hadn’t rendered me incapable of performing my duty and entered her.

The preparation did help. Entering her was easier, and she did not wince as much as the first time. And she felt even more heavenly somehow. The feeling was so intense that I had to take a moment to remind myself that she only wanted me to finish quickly so she would not have to endure me any longer.

So, I fucked her. I did not make love to her, as is my true desire. I just fucked her, like she was just any woman and not the love of my life.

And then, a miracle! I thrust into her, something about the angle allowing me in quite deep, and she reacted. She gasped, breathless, and her hips snapped up to meet mine. I froze in surprise and elation. I found her ‘sweet spot!’

But when I smiled at her, she turned away and refused to look at me again.

I just kept going. I did not try to hit that spot again, so as to not upset her further. I finished as quickly as I could and left the bed.

It was stupid of me, but I turned back to her after dressing. Everything had gone so horribly, but I still love her. I still need her. So I could not just leave her like that.

I asked if I could kiss her again. She let me. I was quick, as promised.

Then I came back here, once again alone and no closer to earning her love than I was before.

I must meet with my advisors again tomorrow. Perhaps they can help me understand why I keep fucking this up so badly when all I want is for her to let me love her the way I want to and for her to love me in return.

Your heart ached so severely that you thought there might be bruises when you looked down at your chest. But there was just skin – skin that Aemond would have happily kissed, had you let him.

As horrible and confusing as that night had been for you, it had been so tenfold for Aemond. He had wanted a grand, romantic evening, and you had greeted him with only coldness and suspicion.

He called you ‘the love of his life.’ You ran your finger over those words so many times that they became smudged, then went to write something in your diary but halted with your pen hovering over the paper.

What could you write to match what he’d said about you? Even if you could, would it really be true? How many times could you say, ‘I’m sorry?’

Well, at least one more time. ‘I’m so sorry, Aemond,’ you wrote, ‘I didn’t know, and I was still scared. Not of you, but of what I thought my life was to be. If you had only told me… I do not blame you, I swear. I just wish the both of us had been more honest with each other.’

You were far too exhausted to continue. It was not yet midafternoon, and you had already been from the near-heights of carnal pleasure to the depths of your despair that the unfortunate state of your marriage was, in actuality, mostly your fault.

So, after setting Aemond’s diary aside, you picked up your embroidery basket and began to work while your mind wandered.

It was only when your maids arrived to bring you dinner that you realised that, somehow, the dog roses you intended to make had become a sprawling wisteria vine.

-

You dreamed of the castle garden in late spring when all the flowers were in bloom. As you walked down the garden path, you saw every colour imaginable amongst the vibrant greens. But there was only one flower you really wanted to see – and the man you knew would be waiting for you beneath them.

Just as the first purple tendrils came into view, the dream faded, and you woke to see the first hints of dawn still beneath the horizon.

Drawing your blankets over your head, you squeezed your eyes shut and stubbornly tried to fall back asleep and return to your dream – to no avail. You were well and truly awake. And it would be some time before your maids came to dress you for the day.

So, dragging the blanket from your bed with you, you trudged back into your solar and settled into the couch before picking up Aemond’s diary again.

The 27th day in the 5th moon of the year

I met with Lord Wylde, Grand Maester Orwyle, and Aegon this morning. They had advice, but it was not as… straightforward as I had hoped. There is no simple trick to get her to love me. Nothing I can study from a book and then implement with assured success.

I have to woo her. I have to be witty and pleasant and charming and… romantic.

I do not think this is going to work.

Especially not after my first attempt was so disastrous.

Lord Wylde asked that I tell him about her, so I did. When he learned she enjoys reading as much as I do, he suggested I try to find common ground there. So, I went to try and find her in the library.

She was exactly where she was the last time I saw her there, still reading “The Last Dragonlords.” I watched her for a moment, savouring the look of contentment on her face as she read, as well as a few quick reactions to the book. How I love it when her nose scrunches in displeasure!

‘That is quite the odd thing to fixate on,’ you wrote in your diary. It seemed a decent night’s sleep had helped recover some of your humour. ‘What is it, in particular, that you like about my scrunched nose?’

She did smile at me when I approached, but I think she thought I was a Maester, for her smile faltered when I greeted her. And she was so shy. Usually, when I struggle to find the right words, she breaks the silence. Today, she did not.

At least it gave me time to remember why I came to the library. She was still reading “The Last Dragonlords,” so I told her it was my favourite and asked if I could join her. I think she was somewhat embarrassed about reading a children’s book, but I assured her it was no matter and that I would nonetheless enjoy reading it with her, and she allowed me to sit with her.

My plan was to sit with her, discuss the histories, and perhaps, in time, hold her hand as a first step toward genuine affection. But the plan quickly went awry.

It all happened so fast that I don’t even remember exactly what I said. But somehow, I insinuated that she was not intelligent enough to understand the book. The book meant for children – young children.

She was very upset with me. Rightfully so! Still upset enough that she stormed out of the library after making several cutting remarks that proved that she is, in fact, quite intelligent.

After several minutes and a brief reprimand from one of the Maesters, I finally gathered myself enough to realise that she had left the book there. As well as several pages of notes.

Of course, the noble thing would have been to not look and ask a servant to return them to her. But in that moment, I was desperate, not noble. So, I looked.

Her notes were beautifully organised and remarkably thorough – the work of a true scholar! She even crafted a beautiful family tree all the way through Aegon the Conqueror and his sisters. Had I not fumbled our initial interaction so entirely, we would have had a wonderful discussion.

You had feared him finding the notes, but you had never considered that he would be impressed rather than arrogantly amused. It made sense now that you knew his true nature. Perhaps, once whatever was between you was resolved, you could have that discussion.

In all honesty, there were a few questions you had that you hoped he would be able to answer. Not least of which being why in more than a thousand years, Targaryens had only come up with a dozen names that they repeated over and over again. You wrote as much in your diary.

It was useless for me to sulk in the library, agonising over what I should have said, so I gathered the book and her notes and left the library.

An apology was more than necessary, so I went to Aegon’s rooms. After all, there is perhaps no one with more experience apologising to women. Even if his apologies are self-serving.

When I arrived, I found Mother had already found Aegon first, and was well into another tirade about his behaviour. Normally, I would be happy to watch Mother yelling at him, but I did not feel I had time to. And Aegon was glad that I granted him a reprieve.

Admittedly, I had not wanted to admit to Mother that my wife and I were… not as close as I wanted. But, as she always is, she was eminently understanding, and far more helpful than Aegon was. His only suggestion was to bring her something nice – jewels, silks, or the like.

On the other hand, Mother gave me sage advice on what to say when I go to her. As my words have been my primary point of failure, I was very grateful for this. She did also say that a gift would not be amiss. An ‘offering of peace,’ she called it. But she advised something personal, not luxurious. If the gift is too valuable, she says, it will seem as if I am trying to buy her forgiveness rather than earn it.

I knew immediately what I should get her. I thanked Mother (and Aegon) and left at once for the gardens.

I found them – the flowers she loves so dearly. Dog roses, they are called. Unfortunately, they do not grow well in our climate, but the Maester’s managed to coax a few to bloom with their various potions and other horticultural creations.

They are almost as beautiful as her.

The Maester I spoke to said that it would be best if I had them cut just before I brought them to her, to preserve their beauty. So that is what I will do.

I will not practice tonight. At least… not that kind of practice. Instead, I will rehearse my apology. I cannot fail tomorrow.

You winced slightly, knowing that the next day would not go as Aemond planned and feeling as though it was your fault. But there was no changing that now. And you had already apologised – often and profusely.

So, you wrote only a simple note: ‘I don’t recall seeing dog roses on our tour of the gardens. Did you pluck them all?’

Looking back at his diary, you took a deep, steadying breath. Only two ribbons left.

The 28th day in the 5th moon of the year

I am the stupidest, most idiotic man in all the seven fucking kingdoms.

All I was trying to do was apologise to her for my unkind – though unintentionally so! – words in the library, but somehow it ended with her crying and me fleeing from her chambers yet again.

You cringed at the memory, almost not wanting to read on.

Aegon gladly offered his explanation, even after I told him I did not want it. He insists that I have so thoroughly repulsed her that she cannot help but burst into tears at the sight of me.

Mother thinks that she is just missing her family and her home, as she said. That she is overwhelmed by being alone in a strange place, and the familiar sight of the flowers – dog roses, as I have learned – brought those feelings to bursting.

Perhaps Mother is right. But her parents left a fortnight ago, and she has shown no other signs of homesickness. And she is not alone! She has the other ladies of the court to talk to, and Helaena and Mother adore her. And me.

If she came to me, I would do anything to cheer her. Not that she would seek comfort from me, no matter how dearly I wish she would. She certainly won’t after today.

After the disaster in the library yesterday and the scolding I received from Grand Maester Orwyle after my training this morning, I knew beyond a doubt that I needed to apologise. I… the shame I feel for having played any part in the state Orwyle described her in is unbearable.

So, I went to the gardens and had a Maester cut the flowers for me and arrange them in a simple bouquet.

She was on her couch when I arrived in her rooms – still in her nightgown and that robe. And again, she did not look at me. She had eyes only for the flowers. I thought then that they had been the right choice.

I apologised, but she did not react. She still just stared at the bouquet. So, I went ahead with the rest of my apology.

Then she touched my hand. It startled me, and I pulled away from her on instinct, dropping the bouquet in her lap. She looked at them like I had dropped a helpless kitten rather than flowers!

And she started crying. Softly, the tears welling in her eyes for a long moment before spilling over. I do not understand what I did to upset her. I said only what I had planned last night. It was so hard to resist brushing the tears away, but she seemed nearly volatile, and I did not want to make things worse.

‘I miss home,’ she said, finally.

It did sting that she does not consider King’s Landing and her life with me her home – it still does. But she is hundreds of miles away from the family of her birth, from the people who have undoubtedly treated her better than I have. I cannot blame her.

I apologised again for upsetting her and left.

At dinner, I had planned to ask Mother and Grandsire if we could find a way to send her home, at least for a little while. So she could be happy. Perhaps I could even go with her. I might have an easier time talking to her without the pressures of my family and the capital upon me.

You smiled at the thought of Aemond at your home keep. Of him in all his black leather among the fields of dog roses. Talking with your father in the library. Him training with your brothers – you were confident he could defeat any one of them alone, but knowing your brothers, they would absolutely gang up on him.

‘One day,’ you wrote, ‘I would love to show you my home.’

I was waiting for the opportunity to ask when she arrived! After this afternoon, I did not think she would come to dinner, but she did! I could have wept for my relief.

And when I offered my hand to her, she took it. Not only that, but she squeezed it – hard. I think believe it was her way of accepting my apology.

She did not speak during dinner, nor did anyone ask her too many questions. Aegon was his typically infuriating self, silently encouraging me to do something with her. What he expects me to do when in front of the entire family, I do not know.

After the meal, I offered to escort her back to her chambers, which she accepted. And once we were alone, she thanked me for the flowers!

It was going unusually well. That is, until I decided to open my mouth. I only meant to compliment her, as she did look quite beautiful, but… I just kept talking. And then I had suddenly insulted her gown from yesterday and her robe.

She closed herself off from me then, shoving away my arm. Why could I not just shut up? I know my words are the source of so many of our misunderstandings, yet I keep talking! At this point, I am strongly considering a vow of silence.

‘Please don’t take a vow of silence!’ you wrote, scrambling for your diary as if it mattered how quickly you got the words down. ‘Your voice is far too lovely for me to never hear it again.’

Tomorrow, I am going to try a suggestion from Lord Wylde. Show her that I am not a failure in everything I do. I pray it works.

You turned the page, expecting to find the entry for the next day, but there was none. There had been a page between the entries for the 28th and the 30th, but it had been sloppily torn out. All that remained was the beginnings of the date in the upper corner.

It was entirely against what you knew of Aemond. The man who had dutifully started his journal on the first day of the year and began each entry on a new page would not do something like this.

What had upset him so? Had you said something to him?

No, of course not. The only time you had seen him that day was in the training yard, and you hadn’t spoken to each other, not after… not after he stormed off. Had he actually been hurt in his fight with the Kingsguard? Or was he just embarrassed that you had witnessed him fall?

Gods, how you wished you had gone to him that night. But perhaps you could make up for it now.

‘After you were absent for dinner,’ you wrote to him in your diary, ‘I almost came to your rooms. I was worried for you. Though I confess, that was the only reason I found myself walking toward you… I missed you, at dinner. I missed you helping me into my chair. I missed your smile. I missed the way you’d hold the plates for me. Most of all, I missed your voice, and your presence next to me.’

You sniffled slightly, staring at a lamp on your wall to dry the tears that were forming before finishing the entry, ‘I’ve missed you these past days, as well. But I’m almost done. I’ll see you soon.’

The 30th day in the 5th moon of the year

I have made my gravest sin yet. And my most foolish.

We had the perfect morning together in the gardens. Silent, mostly, but perfect. She smiled at me! She allowed me to lead her through the gardens on my arm. It was… precisely what I had hoped for.

Until I once again acted like an absolute fucking fool.

Before I had to leave for court, I asked if I could come to her rooms that night. And for one perfect moment, I really believed she was going to say yes.

But then she mentioned her moon’s blood, and I just… panicked. I am not entirely an idiot (though I become less sure of that declaration with each passing moment), I know what that means.

It means that I’ve failed her. In even more ways than I knew.

I have made her miserable. I have made her cry. I have failed in every duty of a good husband, including the most basic of tasks – I have not given her a child.

I cannot go on like this – trapped in an endless cycle of misery where I can do nothing but hurt the both of us. I must do something to free us from this.

It doesn’t matter if she doesn’t love or even like me. I just want her to be happy. If that means that I never get to see her or love her again, I will make myself accept that.

First, she needs to know why I’ve acted this way. To know my true feelings so she can decide what she wants me to do. Gods, if she wanted me to go to Essos and never return, I would.

A blot of ink covered half the page, as though he had simply set his pen down while he thought.

I know what to do. I just pray she understands.

“I understand,” you said aloud, as though Aemond were before you. But, of course, he wasn’t. He was halfway across the castle, a distance that suddenly felt like the Narrow Sea itself. Throwing down your blanket, you shouted for your maids to dress you at once, your morning meal be damned. The moment finished tying off the last lace of your gown, you ran.

You had only been shown where Aemond’s chambers were once – on your first tour of the Holdfast. Then, you did not know whether to be disappointed or thankful that they were far from yours. Now, as your nervousness flooded through every part of your body, you hated the distance more than anything.

Each step was an effort, as with every one, your legs felt heavier and heavier, as if they were made of iron. Your blood felt as though it was rushing dangerously fast, carrying with it a marked chill. Despite feeling frozen within, sweat still somehow beaded at your brow. Yet you could not wipe it away, for your hands were all but stitched to the two diaries you carried.

Was this a terrible idea? Would Aemond laugh at you for all your silly little notes? Would he be angry with you for taking days to fulfil his request? You came to a halt in the middle of the corridor, tears prickling in your eyes as you considered so many horrible possibilities.

No, you thought, the word echoed by the impact of your foot on stone as you took a heavy, sure step forward.

The Aemond you thought you knew would do those things. But that Aemond wasn’t real – and never was. He had only ever lived in your terrified imagination.

The real Aemond was the one who had been so awestruck upon first seeing you that he could not say anything other than your name. Who had fallen for you so quickly and with such intensity that he forgot how to act like a proper person and instead stumbled over his words and actions like a drunk man through a crowded alley. Who had been so desperate for you to return his affections that he swallowed his pride to seek help. And who had finally given you his diary when he could think of no other way to show you how he really felt and who he truly was.

It was the thought of finally meeting that Aemond that made you put one foot in front of the other, faster and faster, until you were sprinting down the halls, only stopping when you came to the door you had seen only once before – his door.

You did not understand how you had found it again after only seeing it only once before. Nor did you remember knocking on the smooth, dark wood.

But then you heard footsteps approaching.

Hastily, you transferred the diaries to one hand and wiped the sweat from your brow with the sleeve of the other. You wanted to straighten your hair, for it had surely come loose from its braid after running so fast. But there was no time for that.

There was the dull, metallic sound of the door being unlatched, and then there he was.

Aemond stood before you, breathing heavily himself as though he, too, had been running. His silver hair was mussed, and there were smudges of purple beneath his widened eyes – his eyes.

He was not wearing his eyepatch.

Your mouth fell open at the sight. At least one of the rumours had been true. Beneath the raised, rough skin of his scar, in place of his lost eye, was a brilliant blue sapphire. It suited him perfectly and was perhaps the most beautiful thing you had ever seen.

He looked at you for a moment, the corners of his mouth lifting in a hesitant smile before realising what had caught your attention so thoroughly.

“Oh gods,” he whispered, covering the sapphire with his hands and turning away. He took a few steps into the room before speaking again. “I did not mean for you to see this. I’m so sorry. Please forgive me. Please…”

You said nothing. Silently, you moved into the room and shut the door. Aemond stared at you, his good eye watering as you approached him.

“I’m so sorry,” he said again. “You should not have had to – ” He startled when you brought your free hand up to his wrist and started trying to tug his hand away from his face. “What are you…?”

When your only response was to continue tugging, he relented, allowing you to lower his hand. He swallowed thickly, fixing his good eye on the wall behind you instead of at you. Seeing his shyness, and now knowing it for what it was, almost made you smile.

But your own shyness took hold of you as you guided his hand down and wrapped it around the spines of the twin journals you held. When you looked back up at Aemond, he was staring at them and the green ribbon that now marked a page within your diary.

“I don’t understand,” he breathed, tightening his hold on the books.

With a slight smirk, you gazed up at him and dropped your hand from the diaries. “It’s your turn.”

[arcanadreams]

alright! so! I just finished my first playthrough of episode eight!! going to put my immediate thoughts in some bullet points here (putting under a read more for spoilers, since it is the latest ep after all):

many people were skeptical about the Nerissa reveal, but honestly I feel like she's become a good narrative device. and yeah, I don't agree with her most of the time, but in this episode she was finally vulnerable and opened up to Traveler and admitted to being stubborn and being in the wrong about some things. which was great, and exactly what I needed from her! I wanted her to be vulnerable, and to show that, and I enjoyed her much more in this chapter.

loving how we can just say live on air that the monarchy should be abolished, that is honestly so slay

Zovack having a sister who died in the Orionite mines...now that was a reveal I was not expecting, and an intriguing one at that

I love KY-L3. Or however you spell it, lmao. he's so fun and he clearly is so fond of Traveler. his protective streak about Nerissa was very sweet.

ZANE INVITING TRAVELER INTO HIS AND ALISA'S BED...BRO. Bro. I almost stuck with the "Don't tempt me" option but telling Zane that I didn't mind if he flirted with me felt icky when I'm on someone's route lol

The "flirty reply" option when your love interest texts you...bro kill me that was so cringe. It's straight up cringe sexting I can't take that shit seriously oh my god...nope never picking that again (jk I need to see how bad it is on the other routes too LMAO)

soft kiss!! at least on Cal's route!! I've said before that one of my main gripes with a6 is that kisses feel like they're softblocked behind the horny options, and that can make it seem like the people who aren't into horniness are being shafted sometimes. for example, you don't get a morning after scene with your love interest unless you have sex. and yeah, I get that it isn't really a morning after scene without the after sex part but like they couldn't just snuggle up in bed with you and stay the night and still be cute in the morning? the texts you get instead on Cal's route are sweet but like if you don't fuck you miss out on an entire scene, which makes it feel a bit like you're punished for not being horny lol. but oh well, that's what fanfic/headcanon is for

WE DID GET A NON HORNY KISS THOUGH FINALLY. after you get the Cal betrayal lore (which I will get into in a moment), on his route he gives you a soft kiss and I LOVED IT.

CAL LORE. WE GOT THE EX'S NAME Y'ALL. It's Selah! She was a singer on Goldis, working for Zovack the whole time. Cal fell for her, but she still couldn't get what she wanted out of him, so she moved on to his childhood best friend, Jasper. They framed Cal for the murder together. Jasper's betrayal hurt Calderon far more than Selah's did. Also, in this scene, we learn that Cal's moms know how to party kjhdslfj

okay so overall, my first impressions are mainly good!! the only things I straight up was like "um" about were the "flirty option" texts...like that was so embarrassing, i'm SORRY i think it's just my asexuality shining through but ough dhsflkj, and the fact that the cute scene at the beginning of the episode is softlocked behind the horny. other than that, I had a blast!!

[blu3haw4]

So, i made up my mind to share something new, it's not very halloweeny, but i wrote it from a prompt list a while ago and Tumblr deleted it 😫 (along my own millón reblogs😒) so I'll just fit it into "the other side theme" to try and get some interactions 😌

Let's take it as 'the other side of the doors/cameras' as in, how different life is for celebrities behind closed doors and right in front of cameras.

So, from A ship and a number

Some anon, said Clexa 13 ...discreetly

Here you go, clexa fam! 💖

Also, this is part of my famous AU universe

●●●

As per rutine for the past several month, the group of musicians signed with Arkadia Music's made their way into the hall of the hotel as they each finished their own interviews, every room on this floor was reserved for their pre-concert activities, and soon they would be leaving to the venue.

"That was fun" Octavia smirked as the got closer and in position for their team to lead them to the next room where they were holding a press conference.

"You didn't need to be that rude, y'know?" Her band mate said with a meaningless eye roll.

"Oh please, Clarke" Octavia groaned as she turned back to her best friend "he wasn't even a good guy, he wanted dirt yet was too stupid to find a way to create it, I did us both a favor"

"I wish you could've played rude in my interview" the green-eyed singer sighed from behind the duo as their team instructed them to start moving. Clarke turned to pout sympathicaly at her girlfriend, but resisted the urge to reach out to grab her hand, knowing there were people with cameras, looking for gossip behind every door.

"Ugh yeah, what's the point of doing this together if Woods and i have to do half of it alone" Murphy said walking beside Lexa "besides the interviewer was all flirt and no bussiness, i swear there was not a single question about music... no, yeah there was one "was Bruised Knee about sex?"" Murphy rolled his eyes.

"If you have to ask..." Octavia called immediately

"It's definitely not" the group responded in unison.

"If you haven't question it..."

"It probably is!" The chanted their little mantra with laugher as they stopped before a door.

"I mean, i don't see it so unfair, though... you chose a solo career" Octavia mentioned staring an argument with Murphy that had everybody joining in. Eventually, as their tour manager's assistant told them to go in, it was Murphy and Octavia bickering at each other while the group finished their talk over it.

Before the door started to open, while Monty was finishing a question for Clarke, Lexa spoke lowly "can i get a kiss?"

The door moved open and Clarke turned to pout at Lexa, after catching her question too late for been answering Monty's question "im sorry" she whispered as they all moved into the room.

"It's okay" Lexa mouthed once Clarke turned to look at her again, she only pouted harder before turning to face the press with a smile on her face.

They greet everyone as they all took their seats and the questions started. As the conference went on, the couple leaned to look at each other from across the table often, trying to make it as subtle as posible and most likely failing miserably. Clarke kept pouting and wishing she could've heard her girlfriend earlier and complaid in kind. After all, it wasn't all that often that the famous pop start, too damage from previous homofobic management, scared of the repercussions her previous contracts might still had over her public image, and straight to the public eye, asked, fearlessly and worryless, for any display of affection in public -or at work, for that matter-

Half through the conference, as Jasper was answering a question -or something completely off topic to the question asked at him- Clarke leaned her chin on her right hand, absently looking down at her wrist where four of her tattoos laid. Unwillingly to her, one of her eyebrows lifted slightly as she felt a light-bulb light-up over her head. She held a smirk as she turn slightly to look at Lexa, as expected, her girlfriend was already looking at her, so while maintaining eye contact, Clarke leaned down and softly kissed the head of her minimalist racoon tattoo that matched Lexa lion.

Lexa resists the need to roll her eyes and equally intense need to smile at her girlfriend, she licks her lips as she looks away and around the room, with a smirk of her own she looks down at her own wrist and up at Clarke, lifting her arm she scratches behind her ear before leaning on her hand with her elbow on the table, looking around one more time she leans to kiss the lion on her wrist while looking at Clarke. The couple smile at each other before looking away and inevitably staring to blush like teenagers. They both lower their hand and after a second of consideration, move them under the table as they lay back on their chairs. This very moment, would be considered by their fan as one of the biggest "mirroring" proofs of their time. -and they would be proud of it-

Couples mirroring, def: “To put it simply, mirroring is matching someone’s behavior, whether it’s their voice, their words, or their non-verbal cues (think gestures, movement, and body posture),”

[cto10121]

Finished re-reading Eclipse (yeah, I’m going backward, sue me) and it truly is. Romance book logic at its finest. Some notes:

Antis whining and bitching about Edward’s overprotective behavior for 1/3rds of the book when 1) Bella does call him out on it and 2) Edward ends up apologizing and promising not to be so high-handed would be hilarious if people didn’t take that seriously. Granted, both Bella and Edward cannot stay angry with one another for one goshdarn minute (R&J: *glares, files a lawsuit*) without forgiving each other and making up. The most hilarious instance is Bella making her grizzly bears threat and then snuggling up to Edward when he returns (“I should infuriate you more often” he literally jokes). As for Edward, there is his agreement to miss out on the fight even when he clearly wants to go, but also at the end he was entirely willing to just give Bella the D!!! Without conditions!!! Too bad Bella finally realized it was best to make a proper farewell to her human life, she could have had a real happy time at their meadow.

Also re: “Edward isolates her, classic abusive behavior!!!” anti clown take…high-handed as Edward can be, he does not isolate Bella from her friends or cleave her from human life in general. On the contrary, he practically all but begs her to prolong her human life for a year or two or indefinitely, apply to and go to college, and spend more time with her human friends. He only has a problem with Jacob for obvious reasons re: treaty, romantic jealousy, etc. Hell, he doesn’t even want to her be a vampire. Edward’s chosen path is simply to be with Bella all throughout her human life. That is not the behavior of real-life abusers, btw. For better or worse, Bella’s becoming a vampire is driven chiefly by Bella herself. She decides whether it’s best to spend more time with friends or simply let those friendships go. She decides she wants to retain Jacob as a friend.

Jacob. My opinion is still the same: Fun character, still the worst as a love interest. I had more fun with him now than I did in my salad years (@my extremely salty teen self writing “DIE JACOB” for two whole pages, I know, bby, I get it), but thematically it does make sense. Eclipse is all about Bella realizing what she would give up re: her humanity, making her decision to become a vampire a truly informed one. That includes acknowledging Jacob as a potential love interest, Rosalie’s perspective, Jasper’s knowledge and history on newborn vampires and how truly violent the vampiric world is, seeing an example of a newborn vampire (Bree), and at least 1) human experience Bella does not want to miss out.

Speaking of which, Horny Bella!!! God I love this bitch!!! More seriously, I like the subversion of the virgin girl/bad boy trope by having Bella be the one to push for sex. And of course Bella agrees to marry Edward just so that she could have that sweet, sweet vampire D. I thoroughly approve.

The Edward and Jacob rivalry. 10/10, the best. I was eating mental popcorn throughout. Their stand-off at the school and Mike et al.’s subsequent bet, the male posturing, the tent scene…Edward’s jealousy especially was so entertaining. Edward’s reaction when Bella punched Jacob was sheer (romance novel) perfection. Charlie’s being blithely Team Jacob was the cherry on top of this social comedy sundae. And of course that tent scene was so iconic freakin’ Hunger Games copied it (and really badly. Why the hell did Collins even bother?).

On a related note: Those Wuthering Heights allusions were anvil-sized, but apropos, of course. I liked that Edward was the Heathcliff and saw himself in him, making Jacob the Linton. Fits into my personal theory of the Twilight Saga just being R&J, Jane Eyre, and Wuthering Heights put into a blender.

Bella being the one to piece together the mystery once more. She really gets all the brains for the first 3 books. This time, though, I call bullshit on them not realizing Victoria’s obvious involvement once they realized the intruder and the newborns in Seattle were connected. It was very much obvious. The only real twist was the Volturi coming in.

Rosalie’s backstory was so realistic and is a great commentary on misogyny than it is given credit for. Bella’s reaction was underbaked, though. She does get (1) nightmare over it, but otherwise it’s Tanya’s interest in Edward that really sticks. (Honestly, I’m here for it. Jealous!Bella is second only to Horny!Bella. Again, romance book logic at its finest.) Bella had much more of a empathetic reaction to Leah’s dilemma than Rosalie, interestingly enough, considering Sam/Emily is drawn as an explicit parallel to her and Edward. Perhaps Leah being the Jacob of that particularly triangle did touch her…

Antis clutching their pearls over Jasper was a Confederate soldier…when Jasper mentions it once, expresses zero nostalgia for that period in his life, and doesn’t even explain why he enlisted in the first place. He wasn’t even fighting when he was turned, just evacuating the city. Either way, he wasn’t a soldier for long before he was conscripted into another vampiric war.

Cinderbella strikes again re: Charlie and Renée, both weak ass parental figures. Again, it gives rationale for Bella’s attraction to Edward (more mature, stable, educated) and to Jacob (happy-go-lucky, younger, more reckless, laissez-faire). Both devoted powerful protectors belonging to fantastical worlds. Yeah, that tracks

“I refuse to be affected by territorial disputes between mythical creatures.” 🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣 This line is so underrated.

In Breaking Dawn, I wondered a bit how Edward could accept Vampire Bella so quickly re: his soul reservations, but Eclipse does provide an answer. Bella is worried Edward would prefer her as a human than a vampire, and Edward literally 🤣🤣🤣🤣. Nice to know this was no retcon and yeah, it tracks

Edward being so damn generous with Bella realizing she is in love with Jacob is really the core essence of Team Edward for me. Jacob would not have been so generous had Bella met Edward after she had Jacob. Edward does love her best. Honestly, I even think she and Edward are more alike than Bella and Jacob. Bella and Jacob clash more often than they agree. Jacob does read her and understand her a lot better, I’ll grant you that.

Book Bella: “But I want you to know something—when it comes to all this enemies nonsense, I’m out. I am neutral country. I am Switzerland.” Movie Bella: “i’MSWITZERLAND!!!1!” God, the movies did Bella so dirty.

[bobbyinthegarden]

2023 Reading Challenge. Vampires: The Gilda Stories by Jewelle L. Gómez

I was talking about this little challenge that I’m doing to a friend of mine recently, and when I said that one of the categories is vampires he said “are you going to read Twilight?” to which I said “I can’t, I’ve already read it.”. Thinking about it, I’ve actually read quite a bit of vampire fiction, certainly many of the more obvious ones (Dracula, Carmilla, Anne Rice’s Vampire Chronicles), so I decided to go for something a little more niche.

I chose to The Gilda Stories because it was recommended in Princess Weekes’ video about the prevalence to vampire characters who in life had been confederate soldiers (Jasper from Twilight, Bill from True Blood, Damon from The Vampire Diaries, etc.). She recommended this book as a kind of counterpoint to those depictions of vampires, as a book which instead focusses on a formerly enslaved person who becomes a vampire in the 1850s and subsequently lives through the next two hundred years of American history, up to the then-present day of the early 1990s, and beyond, all the way up to 2050. I’d never read a book with a premise like this and so I decided to check it out.

Before I get into it, I’d just like to say that I am Not American™, and so my knowledge of American history is pretty limited. I definitely have gaps in my knowledge that I am seeking to fill, particularly in regards to the American Civil War, which is something that I never learnt about at any level of education. I’m also white, so there are certainly elements and nuances to the black experience that this book touches on that I will never be able to fully grasp or understand.

I liked this book a lot, I actually finished it a couple of weeks back and I’ve recommended it to a few people since then, and it’s stuck in my mind in a way that books don’t always do. One thing that attracted me to this book is that I really love genre bending, and this book has A LOT of genre bending in it, so much so that I could probably list at least five genres, it’s horror it’s historical fiction, it’s queer romance, it’s eco-feminist fiction, it’s speculative fiction and it’s sci-fi. It’s all of these things, and yet at the heart of it, it’s a deeply personal story about a queer found family.  I mean, come on! What’s not to like? It was almost hard to believe that this book was published in 1991, because it felt like it could have been published within the last 10 years. I also really liked all of the different characters as well, they are feel very lived in and highly realised, plus all very distinctive from one another.

In researching this book, I’ve seen quite a bit of comparison to Anne Rice’s Vampire Chronicles, which I do *kind of* see it (though more so with the new TV series than with the original novels, in fact I feel like this is the story that the new TV series wishes it was), but I wouldn’t have necessarily made the connection myself, it really is it’s own thing.

While I did enjoy this book and do recommend it, I do feel the need to give a content warning, as there are some elements that some people might find upsetting, such as: attempted rape, depictions of slavery, hard drug use and violence against sex workers. All of these things are portrayed as unambiguously immoral, but they are present, so bear that in mind. If you can deal with those things, then check it out!

[exceptionimagines]

Meeting and Dating Jasper Badun

(Not my gif)(Requested by anonymous)

- Unbeknownst to you, you and Jaspers story starts long before you meet for the first time. 

- You see, ever since Jasper was a young lad; one with a gaze that was willing to stray away from petty crime long enough to notice the opposite sex, he’d had eyes for you. 

- ‘But Why?’ You may ask. ‘You were nobody special.’ Not some rich girl he’d watched gingerly step out of her chauffeured car or a model in a store window or some actress on the screen. You were an average person who lived a very average life …but that was just it....

- You were real. A girl from a middle class family: one that went to school, went shopping with her mother on the weekends, got a working class job once she was old enough. A girl who was perfectly normal to everyone else yet perfect to him. 

- He’d watched you from afar for quite some time. Admiring your looks yet also admiring your spirit; your strength. You were living a life he didn’t think himself capable of: a normal, honest life; and you’d never let it break you down. 

- Time in and time out, you worked on your feet all day, burnt yourself on scalding coffee, heaved trash into the bin outside, scrubbed floors until your back ached, and rode a stuffy bus to and from work most days. Yet you still were able to offer him that charming little smile of yours every time you caught each others eye. 

- You probably thought you looked like a mess but he thought you were the most beautiful girl he’d ever seen; even if he thought your choice of lifestyle was a tad bit stupid. 

- His interest in you didn’t go unnoticed of course. Both Horace and Estella; and even little Wink, caught on and teased him about you whenever they could; much to his embarrassment and defensiveness. 

- But, it’s a good thing they did, since they’re one of the only reasons he got anywhere with you. 

- It was a day like any other, you were riding home on the bus, the same bus him and his friends found themselves jumping onto during a quick escape, and, in a brilliant example of Estella's devious nature, she’d spotted Jaspers gaze locked on you and decided that something had to be done. …So she stole your wallet. 

- Like most people, you didn't notice; and neither did Jasper until she was shoving it into his hand and nodding over at you.

- The two of them shared an array of pointed looks before he took a deep breath and tapped you on the shoulder; glaring at her as she happily turned away and pretended to be busy. 

“Excuse me miss,” he’d said to you, holding up the leather square before he offered it forward. “I believe this is yours.”

- In an instant your eyes had widened and you broke out into a chorus of thank you’s, taking your wallet from him and clutching it tightly in your hand; not suspecting an ounce of foul play. 

- And …then it was your stop. You said goodbye, thanking him again before getting off, leaving him and Estella to argue about what he should have done. What, I’m not gonna chase after her as she walks home!?

- The next time the two of you meet, it’s one of the worst days of your life. 

- You’d just gotten fired for no real reason at all and were sat on a bench, trying to calm yourself while rifling through all of your options as you suppressed the urge to tremble and cry. 

- That was when he approached you, greeting you before noticing the state you were in and asking if you were alright; Jasper was always the insightful one. 

- For a reason you can’t really explain; perhaps grief or the need to say something to someone before you exploded, you told him everything that had happened, unloading your problems onto the man who was still practically a stranger. 

- Once you’d finished, he nodded and told you he was sorry that that had happened to you. It was then that he came up with a brilliant idea. 

- If you had the chance to get justified revenge on your ex employers, would you take it? Because that was what he was offering. 

- He, of course, sugarcoated his words and made himself seem like less of an unapologetic criminal but the sentiment was still the same. He could help you get back at the bastards who’d worked you to the bone day in and day out before dropping you without a second thought and all you had to do was give him a little information and a whole lot of trust. 

- What's the saying? Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned? 

- Soon enough, you found yourself helping Jasper and his merry band of crooks into the building/home you’d worked in and keeping a lookout for them as they did their thing. 

- And after that, you were more or less apart of the gang. 

- It’s a couple months later that Jasper finally confesses his feelings for you. You’d just finished dinner, Estella was in her room intent on working on some designs and Horace and the dogs were on the couch watching the game. 

- You and Jasper were still in the kitchen, doing the dishes while exchanging playful banter. It was then that he earnestly told you he was glad you were there. You told him you were too and you shared a knowing look before you both looked back down at what you were doing. 

- It’s not long after that the two of you go on your first date. It’s one of those rare times that Jaspers little family has some money; mainly because you’d just finished illegally obtaining said money, and he’d put it out there that he could go for some pie, looking over at you for a response.

- You can’t say no to him so you agree and Estella stops Horace from saying that he wants some too, telling the two of you have fun. So the two of you go to some little diner on your own and enjoy yourselves on what you consider to be your first date.

- You share your first kiss during another heist. You’re both huddled up in some back room as he’s setting up some electronic interference and before you know it, the close proximity and mutual feelings has the two of you sharing a kiss.

- You’re interrupted by Horace over your radios, bringing the two of you back to reality and forcing you to scramble back to the jobs you were doing but neither of you regret it.

- The petty thief stole your heart and there was nothing you could do about it.

- Oftentimes, when you’re out in public, the pda you’re engaging in is serving a purpose; like when you’re on “a mission” and need to cover your faces or act like an inconspicuous couple, but he does like to show you affection just because as well. 

- A lot of the time he’ll give you little pokes, prods, and touches for no real reason at all; besides just wanting to touch you I suppose. 

- When you’re walking together, you’ll usually have your arms locked; oftentimes pretending to be a couple that's far more posh than you are. 

- Sometimes I just have these weirdly specific forms of affection that I have to try to explain to you guys and this is one of them so I apologize in advance, but you know when couples just sort of magnetically connect when they’re near each other? Like they’ll start out standing near each other and just wordlessly drift closer until ones loosely hugging the other or has something wrapped around them in some way and the others leaning against them? That's the two of you. 

- Lots of face kisses. He likes to loop his arms around your shoulders and press one onto you. 

- Soft, slow kisses; usually with his hands running up and down your arms. 

- I have a feeling that Jasper sleeps in a small, crickety old bed, so when you’re cuddling with each other, you’ll usually have to squeeze in close in an attempt to fit in the same bed. Because of that, you usually wind up laying almost completely on top of him with your head resting on his chest. 

- He tends to avoid pet names when you’re around the others; unless it’s for a particular reason like speaking to some store clerk in front of them, but when you’re alone he lets them slip out a lot more frequently. Most of the time it’s things like luv and babbs or saying things like “atta girl” but he does particularly enjoy referring to you as Mrs. Badun or having you refer to yourself as his wife/him as your husband for one reason or another. 

- Depending on the type of person you are, you either find a decent job and provide the gang with a regular; albeit small, stream of income in-between their heists or you join them in their petty thievery. Although, regardless of the type of person you are, the proud look on Jaspers face when you successfully pickpocket; or do something similar, is enough to make you consider a life of crime. 

- Him getting you out of any trouble you’re in. He’s always looking out for you ahead of everyone else; especially since you’re new to his sort of lifestyle and because he’s the one who got you into the world of thieving.

- Piggyback rides. It’s not your fault Estella throws you in stilettos whenever she can or that she chooses to have long stakeouts until early morning!

- Talking and joking about your disguises. You’ll joke about how he should grow out a real moustache like the fake one he’s wearing or he’ll tell you that you should wear more stockings; grinning like a little shit as you tease him.

- He cannot take compliments or any sort of affectionate words. He’s terrible at it.

- He’s always trying to get you the best that he can. He knows what you want more than anything in the world and he already lies, cheats, and steals …what’s a little more for your sake? 

- Random gifts; none of which are payed for or obtained in an honest way. 

- I feel like the two of you probably collect specific little things and whenever the other person is out and sees said thing, they show their love by bringing it back home and surprising the other with it.

- Getting visited at work. He’ll drop in whenever he’s nearby; usually with Horace and the dogs.

- Horace cluelessly third wheels a lot of the time; though you rarely mind. They’re sort of a packaged deal so lets hope that the two of you get along.

- Cheap dates. Most of the time, Jasper and his little family doesn’t have a whole lot of money to spare so you try not to waste a ton of it on expensive outings. 

- Sneaking into more upscale places and pretending to be richer than you are. It’s surprisingly easy to crash wealthy peoples parties and eat expensive hors d’oeuvres. 

- Once him and his found family get their inheritance, he starts treating you to more luxurious things. You stuck by his side and loved him when he had virtually nothing so now that he has something, he wants to give you everything he could only have ever dreamed of giving you.

- Him cooking for you. He’s the chef of the house so it isn’t unusual for you to come home to a nice candlelit dinner. 

- Him making sure that you take care of yourself, whether that be drinking or eating enough, watching over you while you’re sick, or making sure you get to sleep at a decent time; he’s definitely carried you to your bedroom when you’ve haphazardly fallen asleep where you were sitting. 

- Having tea together. 

- Adopting each others little mannerisms and different ticks.

- Sneaking away to have little moments with each other. 

- Taking walks around the city; sometimes with your little entourage of dogs. 

- Stargazing and taking in the city. It takes no money to admire the world we live in, right?

- Lazy days spent inside doing whatever you feel like. 

- Board games. You and the gang probably have family game nights.

- Him playing the guitar for you.

- Going to jazz clubs.

- Grand gestures; probably organized and partially thought up by Estella/Cruella. They have a knack for making a scene, don’t they?

- Speaking of Estella: the two of you get pretty close and she uses you as a model for quite a few of her designs.

- He can never say no to his girls so you and Estella sometimes team up on him to get your way. Although, you can usually persuade him fairly easily on your own. 

- If you aren’t living with him, you’re probably sneaking him into your house/apartment because you’re living with your parents or under the watchful eye of an old woman landlord. He’s got enough experience sneaking into places so it wont be hard for him. 

- If you’d like to think that you met him after the events of the movie, you’d definitely be shocked to see that your boyfriend lived in a ridiculously expensive mansion. You’d also be terrified during your first meeting with Cruella who looked like a literal movie villain sitting in front of her fireplace with menacing hounds.

- You’re probably the person he comes and rants to whenever Cruella is being, well, cruel. 

“I mean where does she get off? We’re helping her. She doesn’t get to treat us like that!”

- He’s always so happy to see you. It always makes you smile to see him all chipper when he spots you and you can always rely on him to cheer you up.

- He’s almost always the one who talks sense into people so you’re either his worst “client” or the one who helps him deal with things. He’s a sympathetic person who tries to be understanding whenever he can so even if he isn’t sure of what exactly he should say, he’ll still try to help you out if you’re dealing with something. 

- Jasper puts up with a lot when it comes to jealousy, oftentimes letting you be a riot and have your hot girl summer; though he’s definitely a bit snippy afterwards and always keeps a eye on you. 

“Looks like you had lots of fun with him.” He’ll comment after you finish flirting with another guy for one reason or another. 

- He’s always looking out for you in any situation you’re in. The minute things start to heat up, he’s by your side, making sure that you’re getting out of the mess you’re in the second that you can. 

- Whenever he has an issue, he tends to try and have a normal talk with you about them so fights rarely get too out of hand. Although, honestly, sometimes fights are just unavoidable; especially in some of the high stress situations you guys get yourselves into. He can definitely say things he doesn’t mean when he’s upset so there’s that as well. 

- After you’ve had a fight, he definitely tries to bridge the gap by carefully approaching you with some tea he’s made you, softly placing it by you and slowly sitting down to test the waters. He’ll apologize and calmly try to explain his side of things. If you’re the one who needs to apologize then lets hope you have a good reason and apology because he likes holding grudges. 

- He tells you that he loves you pretty casually. He doesn’t like making a whole spectacle about it so he oftentimes says it nonchalantly whenever he’s saying goodbye or in a similar situation. 

- He definitely asks you to move in with him and the gang when they get Hell Hall; though I could honestly seeing you living with them prior to that and maybe even getting married or living your lives like you are. 

[fanficmemes]

Twilight fic, cause i think we do not talk enough about them here.

We start well with a classic "EDWARD IS OUR GODD!(we wanna SEX him gud!) love &blood becky mac! xxx x x xx"

I have to say, this was probably satire, like a my immortal parody, but in the doubt, and also cause is still hilarious, i have to send it.

Protagonist (slim, big tits, every girl hate her, blonde hair with violet streak unpronounceable name bla bla bla) arrive at Fork and meet Edward, already with Bella.

They are attracted, she call his penis many different way, "man-carrot", "lavander man fruit thing""hard throbbing male object" my favourite, she get deflowered and raped by her uncle, multiple times, while being humiliated, want to suicide multiple times and cut herself, have sex with Edward, that make her transform into a vampire cause her father was a Volturi.

She get superpower and can talk with a panda now.

She kill her rapist opening him up in two and mauling him, but after she feel terrible and at fault and pass all the time putting herself down. Edward promise to stay with her but then Bella tell she will suicide so he return to her. She dance and take drugs with the panda. Jasper start to cry to her cause he is with Alice but in reality is gay. She tell him being gay is normal and also the panda is gay, and now everything is good. He have a threesome with the panda and another gay guy in the back of the car while she drive drunk.

She is kidnapped and the others are too occupied with the sex to notice "Jasper Snoofles and Vince were too busy doing gay sex on each other to notice, i cud hear them grunting and humping and having orgasms on each other - it was so cute but now was SO not the time!".

Anyway we discover it was Jacob cause she dared make Bella cry. He is going to rape her when someone open the door.

"IT WAS EWDARD!

And the fic just ends there"

It actually finish like this. Was a trip to read.

IM LOSING MY SHIT RN LMAOOOOOOOO LAVENDER MALE FRUIT THING 3.5/10 bc I can’t stop laughing

[smurphyse]

Over Your Shoulder

Smurphyse - Masterlist

Chapter 7: Hungry Dogs

Summary: What happens after the car accident, with a few memories! Also, it's very late, so apologies for any grammatical errors/etc. I'm exhausted lol and was having a hard time finishing this chapter.

Notes: The song Jasper is singing is called, "Down to the River to Pray" and it is a GREAT gospel song! You'll probably know it if you watched O' Brother, Where Art Thou? I heard it for the first time in church a billion years ago, but it's a song that will hold a lot of significance in this fic!

CW: mentions of sex, blood, violence. A dog is involved again, but just like last time, he is not hurt!

- Smurph❤

Anne’s Place, Cedar Key, Florida- 17 years ago

“Happy six months, baby,” Jack grinned, sitting in the booth across from her. He seemed genuinely happy for the first time since she’d met him. A smile looked good on him, despite the healing bruises under his eyes from their training sessions.

“Thanks, old man,” she smiled back at him, heat blossoming across her cheeks in the soft night light of some dive off the coast.

“You know, not a lot of people make it this far in the training,” Jack’s smile dropped, gone as quickly as it had come, “They’re usually either dead by this point or they give up and… get dead. But not you, kid, you’ve done better than any recruit I’ve seen come to the island.”

They were somewhere off the coast of Florida, in some small town that lacked security cameras and police presence so they could fly under the radar.

The diner was mostly empty, only a few truckers and nomads scattered throughout the booths. She and Jack sat at a booth in the back, one with a view of all the entrances and exits, red and blue neon draped over their shoulders as headlights flashed through the windows.

Eli stood at the counter, paying for their meal and flirting with the cashier. With his tight jeans and t-shirt he cut quite the figure, one any woman would find attractive. A pair of thick glasses sat on his nose as he brushed back his reddish brown curls with one hand, the other propping up his bearded chin as he charmed her.

She was glad he was away from the table. This was the first time she’d been out of Church since Eli had taken her there. Six months of dark rooms and training had left her itching for the outside world. Each day since she left Louisiana had been plagued by eighteen hour days, bloody and painful training filling each moment. She was grateful to be out of that place, even if she was stuck with Eli and his wandering hands.

“Are you ready for your first assignment?” Jack asked, fiddling with the plastic basket that held his leftovers. He picked at the fraying paper lining, a concerned look etched into his features.

“Yeah,” she shrugged. “It’s not a big deal.”

“You have to put a bullet in someone’s head. You’ve got no issue with that?”

“I’ve killed people before, Jack, it’s not like I’m doing anything crazier than I did then.”

“Yeah,” he nodded slowly, “but this is the first time you’ll be doing it on orders. You don’t have any other information except point and shoot. This isn’t self defense and it isn’t revenge.”

“It’s war,” she groaned, “Yeah I know the propaganda by heart now, thanks.”

“Did you pick your cover name, yet, Sugar?” Eli asked as he waltzed back over, sliding in the seat next to her.

His thigh pressed against hers, so she scooted over a bit to allow him more room, but Eli just wrapped his arm around her waist and tugged her back over to him. She tried to keep her body loose and unbothered, but she saw Jack stiffen out of the corner of her eye.

Eli’s hand stayed on her hip, hot and heavy through her clothes.

“I did, actually,” she smiled sweetly, relaxing into his touch the best she could, desperately trying to keep from withering under his gaze.

“Well, pet?”

“Jasper,” she said quietly, reaching to twist her glass between her hands. Eli’s hand tightened its grip, his brows furrowing as he watched her. “Donnelly.”

“What did I tell you about sentiment, Sugar?” he asked, reaching out with his other hand and gripping her chin. He turned her face toward him, forcing her to look up into his angry blue eyes.

One thing that she had learned about Eli in her time at Church was that he was possessive. He was easily jealous and he liked to maintain control of his recruits. He knew all about their pasts, all about hers with Sam and her parents, and he used the information to keep them in line.

The two had never slept together, and she suspected they never would unless he made it happen, but he acted like an overbearing boyfriend to her sometimes.

It unnerved her, scared her. He was a good fifteen years older than her and literally held her life in his hands. Eli had the unique ability to make her feel like a wild animal, with her back to the wall while he stood between her and the only door to freedom.

“That it would get me killed,” she swallowed heavily, holding his gaze. “But it helps me to remember him, Eli, it reminds me why I’m here.”

“You’re right. Without him I never would have found you, Jasper .” His grip on her chin eased, one thumb lightly brushing against her bottom lip as he smiled fondly at her. She shivered under his touch, terrified of those wide teeth that held nothing but pain for her. “My perfect little pet, I’m so proud of you. You’re going to do such good work for me, aren’t you?”

“Yes, sir,” she said immediately, wincing as her voice shook. She hated that this was the only person who had ever made her scared, that truly frightened her.

“Don’t worry, I’m gonna take good care of you, Sugar. You’re mine ,” Eli’s eyes slid over to Jack as he spoke that work, ‘mine’, and his hands finally left her. “I’m gonna go get the car.”

Jack tapped the table, both of them watching Eli leave. When the door shut behind him she turned back to Jack, narrowing her eyes at his concerned face.

“You okay, baby?”

“Don’t call me that,” she snapped, crossing her arms like a child as she glared at him.

“But you are a baby. You’re the youngest one Eli’s brought to Church. You’re way too young for this shit, and I told him that when I first saw you,” Jack sighed and leaned back in the booth. He swiped a hand down his face, chewing on his lip as he thought. “Angriest person I’ve ever met, lashing out and more defensive than a wounded animal.”

He gestured to his broken nose, wiggling his fingers in good humor, “Absolutely feral.”

“I wasn’t too young to get myself arrested for murder,” she shrugged, smiling despite her attempt not to.

“You were just doing what you had to, kid.”

“The judge didn’t see it that way,” she chuckled bitterly, watching him as he watched her. He broke eye contact first, scratching his head as he shrugged.

“What else were you supposed to do? Let him live after what he did? I would’ve done the same thing.”

She liked Jack, and wanted to trust him. Some part of her wondered if the reason she wanted to trust him so much was because of how upset he became watching Eli drool over her. But maybe he was just too scared of Eli to drool over her himself. She didn’t trust either of them.

“How old were you when he found you, Jack?”

“Twenty one. I’d been inside for four years, ten months, and eleven days,” Jack nodded to himself, frowning, “How long were you there?”

“In prison?”

“No, Disney World,” he scoffed, flashing her a sardonic smile.

“I don’t remember.”

“You’re getting better at lying, kid, but you’re not there yet.”

“Practice makes perfect,” she sneered, making a stupid face at him. When he laughed she asked him something she’d wondered for a while, “Is Jack your real name?”

“No,” Jack shook his head, his eyes far away. “Maybe one day I’ll tell you what it used to be, when I can trust you.”

“You can trust me.”

“Oo-ooh,” Jack chuckled, “Practice does make perfect.”

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

Just Outside of Ellison, Alabama.

Half Mile From the Halsten Property- Present Day

Somebody left their pager on. She could hear it, blazing through her skull like a fucking bullet. Some damned boot must have kept it on them instead of returning it to the watch commander.

Her right shoulder shook, jerking back and forth as she tried to sleep. She tried to pull away from whoever was shoving her but they just kept pushing.

It was so hard to sleep on base. The acrid scent of burning rubber and blood and sweat settled heavily in the air. The sounds of the base rumbled all night long, and people never shut the fuck up. She just wanted some sleep.

“What?” she mumbled, shaking off the hand again. A jolt of pain shot down her other side and her eyes flew open.

She wasn’t in Iraq.

The “pager” was her ears, ringing from the impact of the airbag smashing into her nose. Blood dripped down her face in heavy streaks and into her mouth. Splotches of green and blue smeared together as she tried to make out the sight before her. Blinking away the blurriness that clouded her vision wasn’t working. She reached up to adjust her glasses, only to find they were gone. Shit.

Her shoulder shook again, and she turned toward the source. It was JJ, hardly hurt from what little Jasper could make out. She was saying something, leaning close and trying to get Jasper’s attention.

“...lance is on it’s way, Jazz,” JJ’s voice cut through the ringing. She had something in her hand, it was black. The walkie? Her phone?

“Go,” Jasper groaned, waving JJ off, her muscles screaming at her to stop moving. “Go get that fucker.”

JJ nodded, saying something into the walkie. She kicked the door open and was gone, running into the woods behind the SUV. As she tried to make out the hill in front of it, Jasper tugged some hair off her face, wincing as it stuck to the blood on her forehead.

Okay. Take stock.

Glasses, gone. You blind motherfucker, you’re fucked.

Calm down.

My head hurts, and my arms are burning. The airbag. The weird chemicals that help it deploy can burn your skin. I read that somewhere, or maybe heard it? From Luke? No, probably Spencer. He likes to spout random information all the time.

Left arm-stiff and sore. Left leg- cut up, wedged in the door, but okay nonetheless. Probably a broken rib or two, but that’s what happens when you’re a fucking idiot and take the full force of a pickup so Miss Congeniality can go home to her kids.

You dumbass. This mission is going to get you killed.

Jasper looked down at her leg. There was a good amount of blood, but it wasn’t broken. She prodded her thigh, wincing as she felt a large gash. It was mostly superficial, but just deep enough to hurt like a bitch.

Her thigh was wedged tightly between bits of metal, her skin pinched where the door wrapped around it. She slowly pulled at the meat of her thigh, groaning as she tried to slip it from the metal. After a few tries it pulled free, the pressure on her skin releasing in an instant.

“Jasper? JJ?” a voice came from the passenger side. She looked over to no avail, pulling her gun from the holster as she scanned the window as best she could without her glasses.

“Jasper!”

She sighed in relief when she recognized Spencer’s voice. She tucked her gun away as he pulled himself into the passenger seat. He grabbed her chin, one hand pushing her hair away from her face as he searched for serious injury.

“Jesus,” someone said from outside the car, but she couldn’t see who.

“Ow, owowow, you motherfucker, ” she grunted, shoving his hands off her. “Go. JJ needs backup. That fuckhead is fast.”

“Jazz,” he started, but she just shook her head, wincing as a fresh round of ringing and headache pressure blossomed throughout her skull.

“Go, go after her!” she groaned, jerking her thumb over her shoulder toward the trees. “If he’ll use the car as a weapon, he’ll just find something else to use. She’s all alone. Go!”

“Stay here,” Spencer demanded, hopping out of the car and yelling to someone. She thought it sounded like Luke, but she wasn’t sure.

“Nah, I think I'll go run a marathon!” she yelled over her shoulder as they bound toward the treeline. “Jackass.”

Jasper took a breath, steadying her heart rate. Her body was flying, bursting with adrenaline and ignoring most of the pain she would no doubt feel later. Oh, she was not looking forward to that.

Stay calm. Get yourself out of this fucking car.

She painstakingly pulled herself out of the seat, leaning on her right leg as she moved to stand on the leather. Her left leg burst with new pain as she tried to bend it, and it took all she had to rein in the yelp that threatened to leave her lungs. The poor limb had already been blown to hell.

Shit like this is why you’re always in pain.

Holding onto the sunroof with one hand, she slowly shrugged off her cardigan. She wrapped it around her fist and punched out the remaining glass in the window.

She leaned her forehead against the doorframe and winced again. There was definitely a gash on her face. Taking another breath, she stepped through the window and dropped onto the crushed hood of the Chevy.

It crunched heavily as she landed, bouncing up and tossing her off it. She hit the gravel below with a sick thud, the air leaving her chest in a strangled gasp. Tools from Halsten’s truck and pieces of the frame had scattered all around the crash site, and she’d landed right on the head of a wrench.

I need a drink.

A heavy panting sounded out over her own as she tried to catch her breath. She sucked in the little bit of air she had gotten back, waiting for the lurker to reveal themselves. It crept closer and closer, and she looked around wildly to find where it came from.

A smudge of brown appeared above her, and she raised an arm to protect herself from the upcoming assault, but instead something hot and wet brushed against her arm, coating it with a thick layer of slobber.

“Booger?” she asked incredulously. The panting became louder, and the dog flopped down on it’s belly against her, sending a shock of pain up the side of her body.

She cautiously petted the pitbull’s head and neck, noting that the leash was still attached to his collar. They had to be close to Halsten’s house if he’d managed to sniff them out or hear the crash.

“As I went down in the river to pray, studying about that good old way,” she sang quietly, just her and the dog laying in the dirt, trying to comfort one another as it leaned into her palm and snuggled deeper into her side.

She lay there, stiff as a board as she gently patted the dog and tested it’s boundaries. It seemed to like her enough. She hadn’t noticed before but he was skinny, and she could feel his ribs poking through his skin. She’d probably hurt him a bit when she pinned him to the ground. Dammit. Guilt pooled in her gut at the thought of hurting something and it still liking her after.

The only experience she had with dogs was running from Mr. Johnson’s dobermans with Sam Donnelly. Hand-in-hand, giggling like children and sprinting through the fields after they got caught using his hay loft for bedroom activities.

“And who shall wear the robe and crown, good Lord, show me the way.” She felt so stupid. This mission was going to kill her. Spencer Reid ripped open a hole in her plan and she wanted to kill him for it.

Maybe she’d see Sam someday soon, that would be nice. If you can get into Heaven, which is highly unlikely. You’re a murderer and a liar.

Feet pounding on gravel came barrelling out of the trees.

She looked up just in time to see Mark Halsten’s boot connect with her face. She drove her palm into the side of his ankle, rolling as best she could to get out from under his weight as tears burst from her eyes from the impact. He followed her, her sore body making her movements sluggish.

She tried to grab her gun from the holster but he kicked it out of her hand. His boot raised again, and she thrust her fist as hard as she could between his legs, letting out a satisfied huff as her knuckles sank into the flesh.

He let out a pained howl, sinking to his knees. Booger launched himself forward and clamped down on Halsten’s leg.

“You stupid dog!” he yelled, trying to kick the dog off with his free leg but failing. Booger held on, yanking his head back and forth as he played tug-of-war with his owner’s body.

“Don’t you know, Marky?” Jasper laughed through the blood streaming down her face, swiping one hand underneath her flowing nose, “Hungry dogs are never loyal.”

“Fuck you, you bitch!” he shrieked as he finally kicked Booger off of him. The dog yelped and ran behind Jasper. She tried to stand, but her leg shook with the effort and collapsed underneath her. As she struggled to get to her feet, Halsten stood. Much taller and bigger, he loomed above her, a nasty smile on his face as she glared up at him.

He bent down and picked up the wrench she’d landed on, a hefty piece of steel about the size of her arm and hand combined. He lifted it high above his head as she sat on her knees, trying to think of the best place to hit him before it landed on her head, but her brain was lagging behind, struggling through a concussed slush.

A loud boom rang out, and Halsten’s body lurched to the side. Blood sprayed across her face and neck, hot and sticky in the humid Alabama sun.

She turned to see JJ, holstering her gun and making her way over. She kicked the wrench away from the body, then leaned down to check his pulse.

Booger was back at Jasper’s side, nuzzling against her neck with his nose as JJ turned to face her.

JJ grabbed Jasper under the armpits and dragged her over to lean against the destroyed SUV. Booger followed and JJ eyed the dog for a moment before cupping Jasper’s chin in her hand.

“Stay,” Jasper grunted to him, waving his cold nose away from her. “Thanks, JJ.”

“You’re fucking crazy, do you know that?” she snarled, her hands wandering Jasper’s bloody frame, poking and prodding for injuries.

Jasper blinked in surprise at her tone, but nodded, “Yeah, I’ve been told that before.”

“All these cuts look superficial, so do the bruises. You probably have a broken nose, maybe a concussion,” JJ sighed, sliding down and sitting next to Jasper, their thighs touching as they took a breath on the gravel.

“I’ll admit it, the dog thing was stupid. I shouldn’t have just manhandled it, but I would have killed it if it didn’t just chill out,” Jasper started, waving a hand toward Booger. He laid next to her in the dirt, his head coming to rest on her thigh. “The car thing was more par for the course.”

“Honestly, seeing you in action? The dog thing makes sense,” JJ shrugged, all the anger leaving her, “I’m sorry I ran.”

“Why?” she asked, “Isn’t that the normal reaction?”

JJ fiddled with the grass sticking up between the rocks in the gravel, pulling some of it out and tossing it to the side. “I got attacked by these Rottweilers like eleven years ago? Spence and I were looking for a suspect on this farm and I lost him. I went to look for him near the barn, and that’s when they attacked me. There were three of them. I had to shoot them all.”

Jasper didn’t know what to say. That felt personal. She just stared at the ground instead, letting the information sink in.

JJ looked over at Booger. He looked back at her, and she raised her hand slowly, showing him the back of it. He sniffed her for a moment, then licked her fingers.

“Gross,” she groaned, pulling her hand away and wiping it on her pants.

“Thank you,” Jasper whispered, pressing her thumb into her palm as she stared at the ground, avoiding looking at the other woman.

“Don’t worry about it. I wasn’t going to let him beat you to death with a wrench.”

“I meant… about Spencer.”

JJ’s head snapped toward her. Jasper was glad she couldn’t see, because if she saw JJ’s face she’d never croak this out.

“I know you’ve only been hounding me because you’re being protective of him. He needs that,” she sighed, “He deserves that, to have people care about him as much as this team does. Back when I knew him, this guy named Derek seemed to be the only one looking out for him.”

“You know Morgan?”

Jasper chuckled, “Yeah, I know Derek Morgan. I met him the same night I met Spencer.”

“How did you meet?”

“He spilled an entire tray of fruit-tinis on me at a bar in Georgetown,” Jasper smiled, taking a breath before she continued. She hadn’t actually told this story before. “I had just come back from my first tour, and I was... pretty easily agitated- on high alert. I almost had to walk away because it scared the shit out of me, sent my flight or fight response into overdrive. I was seeing red. But he just looked at me with those big stupid eyes and pulled off his sweater, handed it to me.”

JJ sat quietly next to her, but Jasper could feel her eyes on her. Her voice was beginning to shake.

“I was pretty pissed off the rest of the night. I couldn’t sleep, and Jack walked with me for hours just so I could breathe again. But I saw Spencer the next day? I think he had been walking to a class or something. I just had to apologize. He asked me if I was hungry, and said I looked like I could use a coffee. We caught a cab to this diner in Dupont Circle…”

Jasper trailed off, biting her lip. She felt tears brimming in her eyes. She wiped at them half-heartedly, “Don’t you hate how getting hit in the head makes you tear up?”

“Yeah,” JJ breathed, still staring at Jasper. Though her vision was clouded, she could tell that JJ was analyzing her, seeing her. “He’s my best friend. He’s been… different since you got here. Tense, worried. He doesn’t need to feel sad, y’know? I don’t know what happened between you two, but I know it hurt him. He deserves to be happy, Jasper, he really does.”

“I know,” Jasper mumbled, “I suppose it did hurt him, when I left… but I only walked out because of what he did.”

“What do you mean?”

Jasper blew out a breath, then groaned as her ribs caught. Her hand pressed tightly against her rib cage, trying to ease some of the pain. She could hear the sirens coming up the road behind them, and she couldn’t wait to wash this blood off her.

She turned toward JJ, unsure how to explain. It was pretty easy, but she didn’t want to admit it, that she’d let someone hurt her so badly. It had crushed her in one fell swoop, obliterated her pathetic little fantasy of a future with Spencer Reid.

You want me to kill him? I’ll kill him for you, baby. I’ll kill him with you.

No, Jack. I don’t want you to do anything. Just leave me alone.

Not a chance, kid.

“He cheated on me.”

“What?”

“Jesus H. Christ!” Luke’s voice burst through the trees, Spencer following close behind him, “You two are never allowed to be alone again. ”

Jasper figured they made quite the sight- JJ with barely a scratch on her, Jasper covered in blood and glass with a seventy pound pitbull on her lap, Halsten’s body and subsequent puddle of blood, all in the wreckage of metal and tools and dirt.

“I can hear the team down the road, I’m gonna go flag ‘em down,” Luke said, taking off toward the sound of the sirens.

“What the hell happened?” Spencer asked, dropping to his knees in front of Jasper. He unbuttoned his top and peeled it off his undershirt. He pressed it tightly against the gash on her thigh, Jasper’s right hand shooting out and grabbing his forearm as she hissed in pain.

She felt something raised on his arm, a scar. It wasn’t as big as hers but it was long and smooth enough that it was definitely from a knife. “How did you get this?”

He flinched, pulling away from her. Even without her glasses she could see the shadow that passed over his face. “Kitchen accident.”

Jasper stared at him, her brows furrowed. He just lied to her. Spencer Reid just lied to her. She had half a mind to shove him away from her and stalk off into the trees. If she thought he couldn’t easily drag her back down in her weakened state, she just might do that.

“Tell me how you managed to do this amount of carnage on your second day.”

“He ran, almost hit us with the truck,” JJ said for her.

Jasper glared at Spencer, who glared right back as he continued to press his shirt on her wound.

Asshole.

“While we were in pursuit he turned it on a dime, but we were close enough that he would’ve hit us head on if Jasper hadn’t pulled the parking brake and forced him to hit the side.”

“Why did you do that?” Spencer grunted, pressing harder on her thigh. She winced, letting out a low growl of warning.

“What was I supposed to do? It was trees on one side, the drop-off of the hill on the other,” Jasper hissed, her teeth clenched as she motioned toward the body a few feet in front of her, “Should I have just Thelma and Louise’d us off the side? Then we’d be in a fucking ditch while dickhead here ran off into the sunset.”

“You didn’t have to use your car as a shield. You could’ve been killed.”

“Good thing we weren’t, then.”

“Reid. If Jasper had turned it the other way I could’ve been killed. And if she hadn’t turned it at all, we both probably would have died and Halsten would still be out there,” JJ warned, her tone stern and defensive.

Spencer looked between the two women, both glaring at him in the debris. He let out a defeated sigh, “Can you at least tell me why you have a dog?”

“Jasper somehow managed to get it to turn on Halsten,” JJ shrugged, “It came running at us out of the house and she just… made it like her better.”

“I like him,” Jasper laughed, grimaced as a jolt of pain sprung through her side. “He’s cute and his name is Booger.”

“Did you name him that or did the dead guy?” Rossi’s voice came from the side of the SUV. Luke and the rest of the team followed, as well as an ambulance. The reds and blues flashed across the blood on the ground in the dimming sunlight. It must be early evening, Jasper figured.

“The dead guy, but I like it,” Jasper patted the dog again, scratching him behind his ears. “He’s so skinny. Halsten probably didn’t treat him very well.”

“What do you say, handsome?” Jasper asked Booger, who sat up alert at her direct attention, his tail wagging. “You wanna come home with mean ol’ Jasper?”

“You’re going to adopt a serial killer’s dog?” Spencer huffed, “He attacked you!”

“Only because he was told to. Then he tracked us down and saved me before JJ got here. Tore the shit out of Halsten’s leg after he kicked me in the face.” Jasper smiled at Booger, scratching his chin and baby-voicing him, “You just need some food, a few shots, and a bit of snuggles and you’re gonna be a real good boy for me, aren’t you?”

Booger’s tail wagged harder as he licked Jasper’s hand. Walker and Rossi laughed as they watched, the rest of the team taking in the sight of the remnants of the cars around them.

“He probably helped chase those kids,” Spencer pointed out as he continued checking Jasper’s injuries. He poked and prodded along her side, lightly lifting up her shirt to check where the blood was coming from.

“He didn’t have a choice,” Jasper muttered, scratching Booger’s muzzle and chuckling when he nuzzled into her palm, “I understand, boy, you didn’t wanna hurt anybody, but you also didn’t wanna be hurt.”

“Jasper… How did you get this?” Spencer asked quietly, his cool fingers ghosting over the word on her hip, that word, MINE.

Jasper blanched. She shoved his hands off of her. Spencer fell back onto his knees, those big stupid eyes staring at her, wide with concern.

“Kitchen accident,” Jasper sneered, struggling as she moved away from him and closer to JJ.

“Jazz, you need medical attention,” Spencer pushed, reaching his hand out toward her once more.

She slapped it away, moving to stand herself up. JJ stood with her, looping her arm under Jasper’s to hold her up. Booger followed behind them, and JJ leaned down to grab his leash before handing it to Jasper.

“That’s what the ambulance is for, genius. Leave me alone.”

“Jasper,” Spencer stated firmly, but JJ held her hand out. He stared at her stupidly, obviously shocked at her defense of the new agent.

“Spence, drop it. She’s had enough excitement today.”

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

Spencer’s Apartment, Georgetown, USA- 15 years ago

The dim morning light drizzled through the windows as Spencer woke up. It turned the room a soft amber color, like they were swimming inside a piece of caramel.

He was warm, and he was happy.

Jasper was molded to his side, her naked body wrapped around him as she slept. Her nose was nuzzled under his chin, her hand twitching against his chest as she dreamed. One of her thighs was slung over his hip, giving him a perfect view of her warm honey colored ass. He brushed a hand over one cheek affectionately, smiling against Jasper’s hair as her body arched into his touch.

How did he get so lucky?

A buzzing noise rumbled through the room, and he sighed heavily when he noticed Jasper’s pager lighting up on the nightstand. He lightly shook Jasper’s shoulder, trying to ease her awake.

He had learned from their first night together not to startle her awake. That had ended with him having a bruised wrist and a panicked, wild-eyed Jasper that he never wanted to cause again if he could help it.

“Jazz, sweetheart,” he whispered, lightly brushing back her hair. He tried to move out from under her, but she moaned softly before clutching him tighter. The pager buzzed again, and he felt Jasper’s eyelashes brush his neck as she woke.

“Mmmm,” she groaned, messily kissing his jugular, her hands beginning to wander across his chest.

“You need to wake up,” he chuckled, trying to push her off him, but she moved to straddle his lap instead.

He smiled up at her as he saw her in the hazy morning light. Her hair was tangled up in the back, sticking up in all sorts of places from their rough lovemaking and her heavy sleep. She had a red mark on her cheek from laying against his shoulder, and he felt pride rip through his chest as his eyes landed on the deep bruises littering her neck and chest from his mouth.

She moaned softly as her pussy pressed against his cock, already hard and ready for her to sink down onto. This had become their routine whenever she stayed over, Jasper lazily riding him into oblivion, their mornings starting earlier than most and ending with more than a few rounds together.

Spencer ran his hands up her stomach as she reached up toward the ceiling in a stretch. He cupped her breasts, running his thumbs over her nipples. She ground down against him, her body already alight and responsive for him.

“You have to answer your phone,” he teased, sitting up and kissing her chest. He flicked his tongue over one nipple, working the other bud between his fingers. She moaned as she threaded her fingers through his hair, holding him in place as she sped up her grinding along his length, already slick and wet, ready for him to fuck her how she liked.

“Mmm,” she whined, pouting her lower lip, “You didn’t wake me up for sex?”

“Answer your page and I’ll think about it,” he said, running his hands up and down her thighs, pulling his ministrations from her sensitive nipples.

“Fine,” she grumbled, leaning over to grab the phone and pager, staying in place on his lap. She checked the pager screen, snapped open her phone and dialed the number.

“Staff Sergeant Donnelly,” she muttered into the receiver, reaching out with her free hand to cup his chin, stroking his cheek as she listened. He reached around her waist and pulled them both back until he was sitting against the headboard, leaning into her touch as he waited.

He loved moments like this, caressing her, holding her, just enjoying her warm touch. She never said much, but she showed him how she felt as often as she could. Whether it was a soft poke to his side while he was studying, or a quick brush of her fingers through his hair and she passed by, her love language was touch, and he lived for the feeling of her skin on his.

The sleepy smile she wore fell from her face and she sighed. She pulled herself from his lap, moving to sit next to him against the headboard. The voice on the other end was gruff, but he couldn’t make out what it was saying. By the way Jasper’s body had tensed up, it wasn’t anything good.

“Okay,” she nodded, rubbing her forehead as she avoided Spencer’s gaze, “I have my go-bag in the trunk. I’ll see you in an hour.”

“An hour?” Spencer asked as she hung up, “Jasper, it’s two o’clock in the morning.”

“I know, I’m sorry,” she turned toward him, an apologetic frown set on her soft features. “I have to go.”

Spencer sat up on his knees, his brows furrowing. She reached for him again but he pulled away from her.

“Spencer…”

“Go where? Is this for work?”

“I can’t tell you where, Stick,” her eyes were worried, full of a fear he couldn’t quite place. “I’m finally cleared for duty after Iraq, and they need me.”

“You know, we’ve been together for three months and… I still don’t actually know what you do for the Marine Corps.”

Jasper watched him for a moment, a literal battle of wills raging behind her eyes. She rubbed her thumb against her other palm as she thought, her bottom lip tucked between her teeth.

“I don’t wanna lie to you,” she said finally.

“Then don’t.”

“I’m a part of a specialized unit, Spence, I can’t talk about what we do.” Jasper moved away from him to the edge of the bed, tugging on a pair of sweats as she stood. She snagged one of his shirts from the floor and pulled it over her head. “You want me to tell you the same lie the other guys tell their wives? Is that what you want? Fine, it’s administrative work, nothing dangerous!”

“I’m a Marine, Spencer,” she sneered, “I only do dangerous work.”

“There’s a lot that you don’t tell me Jasper, and I try to be okay with it,” he scoffed, throwing his hands up in defeat, standing from the bed and pulling on some boxers. “You can’t talk about your job, fine, but… I don’t know anything about you , and that’s what worries me.”

“You know the best things, honey,” she crawled back onto the mattress, cupping his jaw in her hands again as he scowled down at her. “You know more than anyone else.”

“I don’t even know where you’re from,” he whispered, a bitter laugh leaving his lips.

“Uhm,” she started, obviously struggling with whether or not to tell him. She looked away from him, her eyes welling before she whispered, “It doesn’t matter. I’m never going back there.”

“Jasper,” he groaned, pulling away from her once more. He marched into the living room, Jasper’s bare feet pattering behind him on the hardwood.

“It doesn’t matter, Spence. It doesn’t!” she yelled after him, “What matters is this! Right now. I love being with you. I like the way we are.”

“Well, what if I don’t?” he asked, whirling around to face her. She stopped in her tracks, her soft face full of fresh hurt.

“Oh,” she muttered, suddenly looking quite small and lost in his baggy clothes. They hung off her small frame, blanketing her in him. He knew she felt safe in his clothing, and he’d just made her question his commitment to her.

“Jasper, that’s not what I meant,” he sighed, trying to regain some of the calm he’d felt when he first awoke. Can we just go back to bed? Can we just lay down and forget I opened my stupid mouth?

“This mission should only take a few days, “ she nodded, heading for the door. She tugged on her sneakers and looped her purse over her shoulders. “Tell me what you meant when I get back.”

She grabbed her keys off the hook and then she was gone.

He tried calling her the next day, but he only got her voicemail. Pacing around the achingly empty apartment, he’d flipped open his phone.

“Hey,” he said quietly, not quite knowing where he’d wanted to go with it, “Be safe.”

After the sixth day of radio silence, he started to get worried. Was she ignoring him? He couldn’t blame her for that, he deserved it. She probably needed to cool down.

“Hey,” he’d said to empty air, hoping she was at least checking her voicemail. “ Stay safe, okay?”

The tenth day came, and the panic began to creep in.

Maybe she was in a situation where she couldn’t answer. The thought opened a hole in his chest, a vacuum that sucked in every horrible situation he could picture a Marine going through, all piled on Jasper- his tiny, sweet, nightmare-plagued Jasper.

Would he be notified if she were killed in action? Would he ever find out? Or would he be forever sitting here, waiting for someone who would never come home?

He hadn’t kissed her goodbye.

Spencer hadn’t told her he loved her.

He had been too scared.

She was so reserved, so pent up and contained within herself. He walked on eggshells some days trying to avoid asking her about her past. She couldn’t talk about it, refused to talk about herself or her before , instead content to listen to him prattle on about blackholes or existentialism, or nothing at all.

He was worried that thinking of a future together might scare her off.

He should have told her.

“Look,” he muttered, a bit frantic into the phone, “I get it. You’re angry with me, and you’re on a job. But, if you could, like, find one way to let me know that you’re alive?”

He sighed on the sixteenth day, “Just… come home safe, Jazz.”

On the nineteenth day there was a knock on his door. His heart lurched in his chest. He didn’t get many visitors. Would he open the door to find a solicitor? Or two Marines in Service Alpha uniform who would read that statement, and end his entire life?

He stared at the wood, his feet seemingly glued to the floor. He couldn’t do this. He couldn’t be the partner of someone in the military. The fear that gripped him was too great, guilt and terror rotting in his gut as he dreaded whoever stood on the other side of that door.

The knock came again, and he was startled by how loud it was. His feet moved without his permission, carrying him across the room. With a shaky hand he opened the locks, turning the handle for what felt like a lifetime.

The door swung open, and there stood Jasper, smiling nervously at him. The left side of her dirt-streaked face was covered in dark cuts and bruises. Her olive skin was a few shades darker, tinted red from the sun. She wore her battered Marines shirt, now spattered with color from the night they met, and dirt and blood from whatever she had gone through after stepping out of his door.

“I’m from Louisiana,” she said breathlessly, tossing her hands up in a shrug, her military-issue backpack swinging over her shoulder. “But I hated that place. I hate that place. It’s a bad place, Spencer. I’m from bad stock, bad people, and I don’t wanna think about it if I don’t have to.”

Spencer just stared at her, all the disaster scenarios that had run through his mind for the past few weeks felt entirely plausible now. Her face was beaten to hell, but so were her knuckles. Both hands and arms, bruised and cut and swollen to the point that he knew she’d had to fight for herself.

“I know, I know, I should’ve just called you back, but I just got stateside and could finally listen to your messages. I couldn’t wait to see you. I don’t like how we left things and I, God,  I want to tell you more about me but it’s so hard . I have so much bad in me, it’s rid-,” she rattled out in one breath, the air leaving her as Spencer pulled her into a crushing hug.

She groaned in pain, and he pulled away from her, his hands wandering and looking for further injury. He pulled up her shirt, gasping in horror as he saw the bruises littering her ribs and stomach. She tugged the shirt out of his hands, giving him an apologetic look.

“Get in here,” he commanded softly, stepping to the side so she could go inside the apartment. She trudged through the door, shoulders slumped, nervously tugging at her fingers.

“I know you’re mad, but I’m fine . I’ve had worse inj-” she started, her jaw snapping shut as Spencer interrupted her.

“That’s not the point,” he gritted out through clenched teeth. He didn’t know what he was angrier at; the fact that she was gone for so long, or whoever bruised her for daring to touch her in the first place. Or himself, for how scared she looked  at that moment. “What happened?”

He reached out to cup her jaw, but she flinched away from him. He pulled his hand back like he’d been burned, his eyes wide as his heart fell through his stomach.

“I’m sorry,” she laughed lightly, a little hysterically. She brushed some of her hair back with a swollen hand, shaking her head, “It’s been a pretty… intense couple of weeks. I’m sorry.”

She stepped closer to him, grabbing his hand and pressing it against the bruises. She winced a little at first, but then she leaned into him. He wrapped his free hand around her waist, pulling her back into a gentle hug.

“I don’t need to know anything you don’t want to tell me,” he whispered against her hair, lightly stroking her cheek. He kissed her temple, sucking in a wavering breath, “I just need you to come home to me at the end of the mission, okay?”

“Okay,” she whispered into his chest, clinging to his shirt like a child as she sniffled.

Spencer breathed in her scent, fully expecting her usual comforting spiced cherry and plum perfume, his lip curling as he finally caught a whiff of the blood and sweat on her tired body. He pulled away from her, holding his hands on her shoulders to keep her at a distance.

“Oof, you stink, Donnelly.”

Jasper looked up at him sharply, her brows knitted together. Then, she let out a relieved laugh, “I’ve been on a plane with an entire unit of sweaty Marines for seventeen hours, haven’t had time for a shower.”

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s not a big deal, Stick, after a mission like that it’s kinda comforting.”

“No,” he laughed, shaking his head, “I mean, I’m sorry I got angry. I’m sorry for all of it. I shouldn’t have let you walk out that door without making sure you know how much I care about you.”

“Oh,” she smiled up at him, “Me too.”

That was Jasper, his Jasper. Never dwelling, never pressing on the bruise, moving on.

“Let’s get you in a hot bath.”

“Will you make me some coffee?”

“I’ll bring you a cup while you wash the stink off you,” Spencer smiled back at her, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and guiding her toward the bathroom.

She sat on the counter while he poured a few bubble scents and oils into the water as the tub filled. When it was full, he turned to her. She looked a little embarrassed, her cheeks a dark shade as she looked up at him.

“I need help getting my clothes off.”

He nodded, steeling himself for the sight of those bruises again. He slowly helped her pull her arms through the shirt, tossing it on the floor behind him. Her pants were easier to peel off, but her sports bra was another story entirely. It took ten minutes just to maneuver one arm out of it.

“Jasper, this is a boot print,” he groaned, brushing his fingers along the purple and blue flesh along her ribcage.

She nodded, staring at the wall while he inspected her. She had a few more bruises on her legs, all defensive wounds from fighting off some attacker.

“You can’t tell me what happened, can you?”

“You should see the other guy,” she shrugged, her eyes vacant and far away. That familiar shadow darkened her face as tears welled in her eyes. Her chin wobbled for a moment, but she sniffed hard, blinking away any trace of her grief.

“How does that song go? The one about the river,” he asked, poking her shoulder gently.

“Oh, sinners let’s go down, come on down. Don’t you wanna go down,” Jasper sang softly, smiling at him.  “Oh, sinners, let's go down, down to the river to pray.”

She’d sung it enough times for him to know it by heart. Whenever she’d have a bad nightmare, Spencer would hold her close to his chest while she sang it to herself. It calmed her, and he’d hum the notes along with her. He’d never actually heard the song sung with the band playing, just Jasper’s exhausted, desperate version of it, her last ditch claw at self-comfort.

“Where’d you learn it?”

“My mama used to sing it to me,” she murmured, her eyes welling up again. “We’d hide from my dad and she’d sing it while we hid in the woods.”

“She said God was watching us, even in our darkest moments,” she laughed bitterly, swiping the back of her hand across her cheek. “He never kept us safe, Spence.”

“I’m sorry.”

“My parents were… they weren’t…” she struggled, the words strangling in her throat. He waited patiently, not wanting to push her further than she wanted to go. She wasn’t good at this, and he needed to be more patient, to let her go at her own pace.

“It was a bad place,” she decided, nodding to herself. She looked up at him and smiled, “This is a good place.”

“You’re the good in this place,” he smiled, leaning in and placing a kiss on the tip of her nose. She scrunched it up, and he leaned in to give her another, but she just licked the tip of his nose.

“You’re so gross,” he laughed, looping one arm under her legs, the other around her shoulders as he placed her in the bath.

“You like it,” she laughed, sighing happily as she sank into the water.

“I love it,” he told her, kissing the side of her head before heading to the kitchen to make some coffee.

He’d tell her he loved her later, when she wasn’t feeling so raw. And he did- love her, that is. Spencer loved Jasper Donnelly, and so long as she came home after a mission, he figured he could handle this.

He could take care of her when she let him. He’d take these soft moments where he could get them, and he’d love her just the way she was.

He decided for himself then and there: Spencer would love Jasper forever, until the day he died.

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

An Office in Georgetown , Washington, DC- One Day after Alabama

Jasper had ended up with a concussion, a broken nose, two broken ribs, a handful of stitches, and too many bruises to count.

Overall, not too bad. She’d had worse.

Luke had taken Jasper back to her hotel after the plane landed in Quantico. The plane ride back had been mostly a blur to her, as she’d slept with her head on Luke’s lap for a good part of it. Luke carried her on his hip like a child, all the way up to her room, ignoring the stares of other patrons. She’d been in and out for most of the night, barely able to keep her head up as the exhaustion of the past week overtook her.

Her team had picked an office building to work out of, now leased by a shell corporation of a shell corporation owned by nobody. If someone decided to dig, they wouldn’t find anything to connect it to Jasper or her team.

They had sang out a chorus of groans and pained hisses at the sight of her face, bruised and swollen and tired, but she was happy to see them nonetheless. They were all surprised to see Booger, but soon enough were playing with him and giving him pieces of their pizzas.

In the past ten years or so they had become a family. When you spent months in the mostly figurative, but all too often literal, shit with people, they became more than coworkers. Hell, they were more than family to her. They were soulmates, all four of them.

Taqib had been a soulmate, too. She’d found him in a prison in Las Vegas, convicted of killing a mark he’d conned out of a few million dollars. She offered him a new name, a new life, and more than a few measly million bucks.

The Church didn’t exist by that point, seeing as she’d destroyed it. Jasper had created a Church of her own, one that was without the likes of Eli and his violent urges. She curated this team. She didn’t recruit people for the government’s kill squads anymore, she did what she wanted and sent Homeland Defense and the CIA the bill.

Of course, there were only a handful of people high up in security that knew of her existence. She’d carved quite the little niche out for herself, her team becoming one of the most sought after units for clandestine and undercover operations world-wide.

They were currently sitting around a fold-out table, sharing a few drinks and pizza as they looked at their murder-board setup to find Liam Gallagher. Booger laid at her feet, chewing on a bone as she filled them in on the last few days, telling them about Spencer Reid and his hell-bent attempts to ruin her entire life. Or at least, that was what she interpreted it as in her mind.

“So, this guy was like the ex?” Wren asked, waving around his SOLO cup, some of the whiskey inside sloshing over the rim. It splattered onto the floor, but he just made a face and shrugged.

“I guess, yeah,” Jasper shrugged, palming her own cup and staring into the amber liquid. “He was definitely the one who hurt me the most.”

“I remember after Jack was gone, you fucking lost the plot, honey. This Spencer guy must have fucked you up if it was worse than what I saw eleven years ago,” Baheera slurred, rubbing her face and pushing back her poofy black hair.

“Yeah, it’s gonna be hard working here, but we’ll get it done. Just like we always do.”

“Well, boss, what’s next?” Oona asked, poofing up her kinky curls with her hands, her dark legs dangling off the table as she sat on it. “What’s the plan?”

“Yeah,” Billy laughed, nodding his head in excitement, “How are we gonna gut this Irish motherfucker?”

Jasper smiled at them, waving a hand at the board, “Let’s get to work.”

Notes:

Give me all the feedback! <3 I know I keep saying it, but we're finally about to get into the plot! Bye-bye Alabama! We're gonna start learning more about Eli, Jasper's team, and Liam Gallagher!

Also, tell me what you're thinking about Jasper's reveal about Spencer! 0.0 what do you think the story is behind it? How are you feeling about Jasper's character? Jack? Eli? Tell me everything! I'm insecure and desperate for validation XD

- Smurph❤

[barbecuebabybackribs]

Sex with Jasper Hale would include: (Male Reader)

(If the title isn’t warning enough this is nsfw- also yes I know I said this would take a few days but I 1. had my friend bugging me to do it and 2. Needed a break from more complicated requests and life. Also this felt so awkward writing but I hope you guys enjoy) P.S: this is slightly tailored to my friend who requested it- so I’m sorry if it doesn’t fit you

NSFW UNDER CUT!!!!

Human Mate:

Jasper is afraid of hurting you- he is extremely strong and everyone always thinks he’s about to loose control, even though he would never hurt you when everyone around you is on edge and you’re an empath, it puts you on edge.

But when your alone, and he only feels your emotions and his own, he’s able to relax enough to feel comfortable being intimate with you.

It almost always starts with a simple kiss- which he doesn’t end.

He would 100% stop if he ever felt you weren’t into it

He’s a dominant top- he will let you ride him but you both know who’s in control

He loves to pin you to whatever surface is closest- bed, table, wall, it doesn’t matter

He loves how you can’t get out of his grasps, he’d completely in control of just how much pleasure you’ll get

He’s a big tease

He’ll touch you just about anywhere except where you want him to

He’d slowly kiss down your body, paying attention to your emotions and every time he feels a spike of arousal when he touches a specific spot- he pays extra attention there and makes a mental note for next time

Slowly strips you down- almost to slowly but that’s the point- to drive you absolutely insane with lust- which he does help along with his powers

The man use’s his powers a lot but can you blame him?

Calls you pet names the entire time “Darling” “Love” “Sugar”- has called you “Baby boy” a few times when your especially desperate for him

He. Love. Going. Down. On. You.

Almost loves it more then you going down on him- although it’s a close call

He has no gag reflex- which he uses to his advantage

Loves when you moan out his name and pull at his hair

He will stop if you ever suppress your moans/whines- he wants to know just how good he’s making you feel

He’ll overwhelm you with, waves of lust, his mouth, and his hand grasping at your ass/ massaging you.

He loves hearing your moans and your breathless praises

It’ll depend on his mood if he let’s you finish from his mouth, he loves when your moans raise and he can feel you attempting to thrust into him as you reach your high, or he’ll take you right to the edge then stop all contact- relishing in your needy whines and small thrust into the air,

“Jasper, please.”

“Don’t worry, Darling. I’m not even close to being done with you yet.”

Usually tells you to take his clothes off, making it as difficult for you as possible

Arousal is an emotion he can control- and if he so wishes he could overwhelm you with so much lust and arousal he could make you cum without even touching you- he’s tested it before and caught you off guard when you were doing the laundry/cooking

So when you’re trying to strip him he’ll randomly send waves of lust your way- just eating up how you’ll grip his clothes tightly and lean into him- whole body shaking as you do so- but he’ll just bring you to the edge before ceasing his teasing

If he’s in no hurry, he’ll let you go down on him

This man is almost never vocal- except in the bedroom

He doesn’t want to thrust to harshly so he let’s you control most of it

It’s alright if you can’t fit all of him down your throat- you are human and there is a limit for you.

He does however love when you use you hand to rub and pump the rest of his length

He’s pushed you off of him more then once- usually getting so lost in the pleasure he can not trust himself to not loose control

“Jazz? You alright.”

“Come here, Now.”

If you get him to riled up your in for a rough ride- literally

He will bend you over on any surface/ press you against a wall

You’re practically begging when he’s stretching you/ prepping you

He’s prepared 99.9% of the time with lube- if he isn’t it’s purely oral that time, as he wants to make it as painless as possible.

When he’s done prepping you he’ll ask if you’re ready- if you are he’ll thrust into you slowly but forcefully

Wait’s till your fully adjusted before setting a relentless pace

Nuzzles into your back- has lightly bit into you neck once or twice- usually doesn’t though just in case

 Grips the back of your neck and thrusts into you- making sure to hit your spot every. single. time.

When you’re reaching your high he will drape against your back and use one hand to support himself and the other to jerk you off

He’s got a praise kink- loves when you praise him, but especially loves muttering small praises into your ear at he fucks into you

You moans only spur him on to fuck into you harder

He’s a sucker if you beg him to go harder or do something differently- man can’t say no

“Please- please don’t stop!”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

He’ll time your release with an specially brutal wave of lust

You’ll be shaking after your release- and being overstimulated by him continuing to thrust into you chasing his own release

When he cums he’ll practically growl into your ear- thrust becoming even rougher and erratic.

He has and will overstimulate you- he’s a vampire which means lots of stamina

He never goes to far- understanding you’re still human and he doesn’t want it to get to unbearable

But if you’re up to it- he’ll keep going till you’re practically falling apart

He does like it when you ride him, he’ll make you hold his hands and watch you fuck yourself on him

He adores every part of you, almost get’s lost in trailing his fingers down your sides, your face, everything

If he decides your pace isn’t fast enough for him, he’ll grab your hips and thrust up into them

He also like when your on your back, he loves watching your facial expressions, the pleasure that washes over your face- that he caused- it really spurs him on

He also liked being able to kiss you in the middle of the act, your mouth, your neck, anywhere really- but especially the mouth, he likes when he thrusts particularly hard while kissing you and you have to break the kiss with a broken moan

God this man loves everything about you

He’d also be open to tying you up occasionally- he’d use silky material because he 1) likes the feel, and 2) he likes how it doesn’t hurt you

This man loves being in control and when you let him tie you up and forfeit all control to him- it really get’s to him

He makes sure you have a safe word in place before you do anything.

If he feels you be uncomfortable- hit’s the breaks

He’s stopped in the middle of an extremely intense session because he felt the slightest amount of discomfort

“I am so sorry, Do you want me to stop?”

“No- Jasper that’s not it-”

“Are you okay?”

“Jasp-”

“Are you hurt?”

“Babe please calm down–”

It takes a lot of convincing for you guys to continue

This man is all about the aftercare.

He doesn’t need it as much as you physically- although emotionally he does appreciate when you praise him and tell him you love him.

He’ll clean you up, has forced you to take Advil if it was a particularly rough night, and I hope you like sappy jasper because that’s what you get

Kisses your forehead and tells you how good you did, what a good boy are.

He pulls you close to him, wrapping his arms around you- loving if you cuddle up to him more by wrapping your arms back around him.

He likes to feel your body slowly relax as he talks to you, you sleepily mumbling responses.

Until your heart beat and breathing calms and you drift off to sleep, and he’s able to watch you sleep in his arms- god he’s so happy he found you

He loves when you trust him enough to sleep next to him

In the end he just wants you to feel safe and loved, even in your most intimate moments

(Uhm… so that’s my take on it…. i’ll see myself out- if you want a vampire mate version just lemme know- I honestly don’t know how I feel about this.)

[jaehyunspeachparty]

daddy jaehyun

iv.xlvii. (a)

Jaehyun's filming has already started and it made your stomach turn at the thought. You knew that he was only making money and that he wanted to give you and the children a good life. But the thought of him filming one love scene, if not more, with a gorgeous actress makes you seriously jealous. How long have you been like this? You would never have counted yourself as one of those jealous people, but here you were about to go crazy. You wanted to distract yourself and not sit at home wondering what Jaehyun was doing on set. But you got the call in the morning when Johanna asked you to come over to pack things for the children. Johnny had already bought the house and since they'll share custody, he needs enough clothes for the kids there. You would then take the things to Johnny's house afterwards because Johanna didn't want to see him.

When you got into Johanna’s apartment, it looked pretty messed up. There are many boxes in the room that were labeled. You park the stroller in front of the door and pick up the twins while Sunoh ran into the apartment. "I'm sorry, I know it's a mess." Johanna looked tired, apparently she haven’t slept much. But you knew that the breakup with Johnny made a lot for her too. "No problem. But you already know my car isn't big enough." You didn't know how to wrap it all up. Your car was big because you had to transport all the children in it, but you didn't have a truck. "No no, these are my things." Johanna shook her head and pushed a few boxes aside. "Your things?" You look at her in surprise as you follow her. "Yes, I can't afford the apartment alone." Johanna said it clear and coldly. As if there was no longer any emotion in it. "Doesn't Johnny pay any alimony?" You ask carefully and when you are in the bedroom you put the twins on the bed. "He would. But I don't want that. My parents also got divorced when I was a kid. In the beginning, my father paid alimony, but then Mum had a new boyfriend and it became a perennial issue. I want to stay independent." Johanna looked at you resolutely. She had thought it over very carefully and she was serious. "That sounds very good, but can you do it?" You worry about her, you didn't want her to overwork. "I found a job. I was a dental assistant in Chicago. I also found a job here that is really well paid. They also need me here as a translator, since the clinic is in Itaweon and tourists often come by when there's an emergency. That's why it's better paid." Johanna smiled and she seems really excited about her new job. Being at home and being a mother was something that didn't give her that much fulfillment and got bored after a while. "That sounds really great. Congratulations!" You smile and stroke your babies' bellies as they have had a lot of stomach ache lately. "Thank you. I also found a place in kindergarten for Jaina and Jasper there too. So I can pick them up right after work." "Wow, it really all fits together." You were really impressed with Johanna. She was so strong and structured. You don't know if you could react so clearly. "Yeah right? My first thought was that I was going back to Chicago. But Johnny has his life here and I can't do that to the kids. I don't want to be the person who takes their father away from them. I thought at first it would be easy in America. But then I read the job advertisement and applied spontaneously. The dentist was immediately enthusiastic about me and I'll start next week. That's why I want to do all of this now." "Wow and you have a new apartment too?" You ask. "Yeah, it's a lot smaller and Jaina and Jasper have to share a room, but it's totally okay for now." Johanna smiled and folded up the children's clothes. "Wow you are really strong," you say to her full of amazement. "Do I have another choice?" Johanna shrugged her shoulders. Many accused her of being a bad mother, but at this moment it shows what a great mother she is. She would do anything for Jaina and Jasper. She even stays in Korea because of them. "You're right. But I don't know if I could stay so stubborn in your place." You look at your babies who were still quite restless. Their bellies made noises and they grimaced a little bit in pain. You try to massage them a little to make it better. "It's different with you and Jaehyun. You are the couple that were made for each other, that had to fight a lot and now you finally have your great love. But Johnny and I ... we ... he was my high school sweetheart and he should have stayed that way. We thought it would feel like it did back then, but that never happened." Johanna put the things in the box and sighed. You didn't know what to say. It was all so bad anyway. "But Johnny really did something that ..." you had no words for it. "But he has the child now. I have to accept that," she said and she was somehow right. "Besides, this kid has the least credit for who his parents are. Johnny wanted more children anyway. I didn't. It might be better that way." You nod and don't even know what to say. Johanna was so composed, so clear. But somehow you had the feeling that there was something else. Did she still love Johnny? Why was she so peaceful with him? She should rant and scream. Somehow that didn't seem right to you. "Johanna?" You ask and decide to speak to her. "Hmm?" She didn't look at you at all, just kept cleaning up. "Is there anything else?" You ask her carefully. "What should be?" Her voice rose and she laughed almost hysterically. That makes you go into your guesswork even more. "Something isn’t right. Johanna, what is still going on?" You have known her long enough and by now you had developed a very close friendship. So you already knew when something was wrong. "I slept with Johnny," she said suddenly and quickly and you hadn't expected the information. "What? When?" You couldn't remember the last time Johnny was gone for so long. "Three weeks ago. It's been a while," she says, closing the box. "Ok ... wow. And do you want him back?" You ask immediately, but Johanna immediately shook her head. "No, definitely not. But ..." Johanna swallowed and looked at you. "I didn't mean to tell you at first, but I think if I should do...it's good if someone knows I'm there." "Johanna? What are you talking about?" Now you can no longer follow her. "I'm pregnant," she said quickly, and took a deep breath. You freeze and don't want to believe it at first. "What's up with Johnny that he seems to be making everyone around him pregnant?" Apparently, Johnny always had sex with women when they were ovulating. "Wait ...", suddenly you remember what Johanna said before. "What do you mean with ‘it's good if someone knows I'm there‘?" You ask her then. Johanna sighed and sat down across from you. She looked at the babies who were slowly closing their eyes. "I have an appointment for an abortion next week," she said. "And what does Johnny say about that?" You couldn't imagine that he would like that, after all, he loved children. "He doesn't know and he won't find out either." Johanna looked at you admonishingly and you can't believe that she is trusting you with such a difficult secret again. "You have to tell him!" "Why? It only causes him suffering and pain." Johanna didn't see the point. "But it is also his child." "Y/N, I really don't want another child. I've done so bad in my past pregnancies. I barely got out of a depression, I had a lot of pain and my body is destroyed. I love Jasper and Jaina more than anything and I'm glad they exist, but I can't be there for more. I have a job now and I have to try to get a grip on my life. I don't need a man to talk me out of my decision. An abortion like this is hard enough in itself! " Johanna was aware that Johnny would do anything to keep the child. She understood Johanna on that point, but you also think that Johnny should know. It was a complicated situation.

After you finished and all the boxes were in the trunk, it was time to drive. The children were already sitting in the car and Johanna, Jaina and Jasper were still downstairs to wave to you for goodbye. But Johanna's words about abortion were still in your head. "Johanna?" You're already sitting in the car and can still see her. "Yes?" She asked and her eyes were suddenly so soft. "You don't have to do this alone ... I mean the abortion. Should I come with you?" You ask her and you really didn't want her to do something so difficult on her own. "That would be really great," she says, and she smiled. "Okay, then write me the date." "Thanks Y/N, I know it's not easy for you. But you are like family here to me." She suddenly took your hand and you were touched by her answer. "I feel the same way," you say with a smile and from that moment your friendship was closer than ever.

Jaehyun came home later that evening. You were glad that he was back and you hug him right away. "Are you okay?" Jaehyun then asked and smiled. "Yes, I'm just happy that you are here," you say and continue to hang tightly over his shoulders. "So much?" Jaehyun asked again and kissed your hair. You are always happy when he comes home, but that was an exaggeration even for him. "Yes." You kiss him and see how suddenly the children came. They often mimicked you, and that's why they fell in their father's arms as well. Cujo joined in and whined in front of Jaehyun. "Why did I deserve so much love today?" Jaehyun kissed his two children and then got up. "Daddy you have to kiss the twins too," Miga said and admonished her father. "Yes, I have to go into the house first. I didn't even have time to take off my shoes." Jaehyun laughed and stroked Cujo, because he also longed for love. Then he took off his shoes and jacket and went into the house. "How was it with Johanna? How is she?", Jaehyun asked and now welcomed Kiwoo and Geon. "Very well. She's moving in a new apartment, and she has a new job." You smile and Jaehyun nodded. "I am glad to hear that." He picked up Kiwoo and began rocking him. "Aboaton ...", Sunoh said suddenly and looked at his father with his same eyes "Aboaton? What do you mean Sunoh?" Jaehyun looked down at his son, confused and you already knew what he meant. He must have picked up the word for abortion, but he didn't quite remember it. Thank God. "I think he means" about "", you laugh uncertainly and quickly stuff a biscuit into Sunoh's mouth. "HEY! I want too!" Miga angrily put her hands on her hips and looked at you seriously. "Okay okay." You give her another quick cookie before there was a drama. Jaehyun looked at you in surprise but then shrugged. You were glad he didn't ask any more, because you didn't know when or if to tell him ...

daddy jaehyun masterlist

[llnewobsessionll]

Reversed Roles (Jasper x human!reader)

Description: Jasper and Y/n are about to meet Y/n’s friends for the first time since they started dating and Jasper is very worried and the reader calms down Jasper

Warning: A sex joke

Word count: 1,063

It was only an hour before we were supposed to go out with my friends and Jasper was freaking out. He kept worrying about my friends not liking him, or them thinking that I deserve better, or him losing his control.

I wasn’t too concerned about my friends not liking Jasper, they were normally pretty chill and knew that if I wasn’t happy or if Jasper was treating me bad then I would speak up about it and handle it myself. That didn’t mean that they wouldn’t give him a talking to while I was in the bathroom or something, but I knew that they weren’t gonna scare him away or say anything bad.

But even with my reassurance that my friends would like him Jasper was still worried, and I knew what it was like, when I had first met his family I was a nervous wreck even when Jasper was telling me that they would like me.

“Babe, it’s okay, they’ll like you, I know it, we’ve already talked about you and they know that you make me happy and I really like you, and they’re normally really easy going anyway.” I stood in front of him as he was sitting on the edge of the bed. Taking his head in my hands I placed a kiss on each of his cheeks, on his forehead, his nose, and finally on his lips, just like he normally did to me when he calms me down.

“But what if they don’t like me, what then?”

“Then they won’t say anything about it, they respect that I know how to make myself happy and I know what’s best for me and they’ll support me dating you.” I rubbed my hands down his arms, trying to distract him from his thoughts with my touch.

“But-”

“No, no buts, they’ll like you, I promise.” I held his head and made him look me in the eyes to show how serious I was and that I wasn’t just saying things to get him to calm down.

The next 20 minutes was a mix between me getting ready and trying to comfort Jasper. I felt really bad, in all the time I have known him I’ve never seen him so distraught and doubtful in himself, but I knew he would stay like that until we met with my friends and they started talking.

↼♔♔♔⇀

The entire drive to the dive bar that my friends and I have agreed to meet up at was spent giving Jasper little phrases of encouragement and holding his hand. I was also trying to push my feelings of confidence on to him to give him a little boost too.

When we finally pulled into the parking lot and stopped the car Jasper looked like he wanted to run off and if I didn’t feel so bad for him I would have laughed. A 200 year old vampire who served in the civil war and trained new born vampires, who were a lot stronger and faster than him how to fight was nervous at meeting a handful of my friends, I kinda found the sentiment cute, at least he cared enough to try and make sure they got along and like him.

Walking into the dive bar hand in hand with Jasper it didn’t take long for me to spot my friends in a booth in the back corner. They had already gone ahead and ordered appetizers and drinks for us all, knowing exactly what I would order and what I liked.

Walking up to them I introduced each of my friends to Jasper and Jasper being the gentleman that he was made sure to shake each of their hands. From the looks and grins that my friends shared with each other I could tell that already they approved of him, liking the fact that he had manners and wasn’t being rude to them like some of my exes were.

↼♔♔♔⇀

The night passed rather uneventfully, conversation and food was shared between everyone and halfway through the night I could feel Jasper relax against the booth and open up to them even more. By my friends' reactions I knew that they approved of him and thought we were a perfect fit, I would no doubt be getting text messages from them in the group chat talking about how nice he was.

We all left at the same time and with some parting words by the door Jasper and I made our way towards his car. He waited until we were in the car with the door closed before he said anything, “so I guess that means that they liked me then?”

“Oh definitely, we’ve all met a few of eachother’s partners a couple times before and you were by far the one that we all got along with the most, they absolutely adore you.” Just as I finished saying that my phone vibrated in my back pocket, signifying that I got a message.

Opening up my phone I saw that they had all been texting in the group chat and laughed at the things they said

He’s hot, like really hot, where did you find a man like that?

And respectful, don’t forget that, those southern boys always have good manners, maybe I need to take a trip down to the south

I’ll come with you, but seriously Y/n where can we find men that are that hot, respectful, and funny, tell us your secrets

I read the messages out loud to Jasper who laughed and relaxed more, no doubt if he was still human he would be blushing from the praise by now. Quickly I texted out a reply as Jasper pulled out of the parking lot to go back home.

I don’t know guys, I just got lucky, and that’s not even talking about how good he is in bed😏

Putting my phone back in my pocket I felt my phone vibrate a lot more on the drive home but didn’t look at it, knowing that me not answering was going to drive them crazy.

Laughing softly I took Jasper’s hand in my own and brought his hand to my lips, looking over he grinned at me and I returned the gesture, overall the night had been a success and I knew my friends would be grilling me for more information.

[saharamae21]

Lilypad - Drew Starkey Imagine

Author: sguymon21

Summary: A request for Drew where the reader is pregnant and throughout their pregnancy he does bump updates and pregnancy updates for both you're families because they don't live in LA. Like her bump getting bigger, the weird cravings she's having, videos of the baby kicking, decorating the nursery, mood swings, parenting classes, and whatever else you can think of? REQUESTED

Word Count: 1.9K+

Warnings: None

__________________________________________________

When you found out you were pregnant, you were ecstatic. The only person who stood a chance of matching your excitement was Drew. You knew how much he wanted to start a family, so when the time finally came, he cried. He held you in his arms and placed his hands on your stomach. You knew he was going to be a fantastic father.

Month One

When Drew told you that he wanted to send your families monthly updates, you were completely on board. At one month, you lined up at the wall, chalkboard in hand, and had him take your side profile. You giggled as it felt like a mugshot. Nothing was noticeable yet in the photos, but you were definitely experiencing changes. The morning sickness was already to affect your everyday life and you became super sensitive to certain foods. Even the smell of coffee in the morning made you want to throw up, even though you normally needed a cup or two most days.

You sat on the couch and held your stomach. Even though your baby was only the size of a half grain of rice, they were fully controlling your every move. Drew sat down next to you and pulled you into his chest.

“Do you want a boy or a girl?” he muttered. You smiled, knowing what he wanted already. He wanted a little girl that he could spoil. You on the other hand wanted a boy. You wanted a mini Drew running around the place.

“Secret,” you mumbled. He chuckled at you as you closed your eyes. The fatigue set in, causing you to fall asleep in his arms. He watched the mother of his child with the most admiration possible and hoped that in a few months he would have a new girl to hold in his arms.

Month Two

The first month passed quickly and you found yourself in front of the wall again. You held up the blackboard that read two months and smiled for the camera. However, as soon as it was taken, your smile faded. You were exhausted and your hormones were going crazy. The doctors informed you that you had to severely limit your caffeine intake and withdrawal was setting in. Your head was constantly in agony and the nausea had somehow gotten worse throughout the past week.

Drew got home early from a shoot and looked around. Usually you were in the living room, but today the apartment was silent. He knew you didn’t have a doctors appointment and began to worry something was wrong. He opened the door to your guy’s bedroom and found you nestled in between the sheets. He smiled at your sleeping figure before crawling into bed.

You stirred awake and flickered your eyes open. Drew eyes met you and it filled your heart with warmth. All the sickness and fatigue was worth it when you saw the way he looked at you.

Month Three

The first sign of life appeared when you looked at the picture for month three. A small baby bump presented itself as you excitedly held up the blackboard. It wasn’t very big, but it was enough to make the both of you emotional. He held you from behind, his hands on your tummy. This was his new favorite position. He loved to have as much contact with your unborn baby as he could.

You laid on the floor of the apartment angry. Your emotions weren’t quite back in check and the crazings were starting to set in. All you wanted was peanut butter and tortilla shells, but you were out of peanut butter. You had asked Drew to grab some on the way home, but he was having a less than ideal day and said no. That put you in a mood and you haven't moved since. You wanted to have a stand off and wait until he caved and agreed to get it for you, but the baby was demanding food.

You forced yourself up to look in the cupboards, but nothing sounded good. Feeling emotional and defeated, you sat down on the kitchen floor and just began to cry. Minutes later, the door opened and Drew walked in. He heard you crying and knew that he should’ve had more patience with you. He walked in and crouched down in front of you, holding a new container of peanut butter out for you. You sniffled and looked up at him, knowing that if you two had a little girl, Drew would never be able to say no to her.

Month Four

You stood against the wall with a huge smile. Your stomach was continuing to grow every week and your excitement grew with it. You had begun to think of names for your child, but Drew and you had different tastes. Drew didn’t want to play into the whole celebrity child names, but you wanted something different. No child of yours would be named Jacob or Hannah.

You sat on the couch with the most energy you had in weeks. Drew slumped next to you, just in the mood to cuddle. You were in the mood for other things though. It was the first time in the past few months that your sex drive was back. You leaned over and pressed your lips to his neck, causing him to jump. He looked at you as your hand gripped his shirt. He looked at you wide eyed and told you politely that he didn’t want to. You stared at him, mouth agape.

“I-I just don’t wanna hurt the baby,” he said with the most innocent look on his face. You laughed at him and placed a soft kiss on his lips telling him that you loved him.

Month Five

You stood up as straight as you could, proud of the baby that was growing inside of you. You held up the sign and smiled as big as you could. Drew was running around the house for the past week, excitedly talking your ear off. You were supposed to find out the gender this week and he literally couldn’t wait. You two had finally settled on names and that made everything so real. If it was a girl, she would be Lilith. If it was a boy, he would be Jasper.

You sat in the doctor's office with Drew. His arm was slung over your shoulder as the doctor walked in. She smiled at you and told you that the baby was in wonderful condition. So far, there were no issues.

“So, would you like to know the sex?” she said.

We both said yes and you leaned your head on Drew’s shoulder. He had a hand placed on my baby bump and we waited as she looked at the file. She opened her mouth and Drew began to tear up. He kissed the top of my head as you wiped the tears away.

We were having a little girl.

Month Six

You stood against the wall and basically begged him to take the picture. Your legs were aching and you were gaining weight so quickly these days. You smiled as he took the picture, holding the sign like always. After it was done, you went and sat on the couch. Drew joined you shortly after, lifting your legs onto his lap to rub the cramps out of them. You closed your eyes and let him comfort you for the rest of the night.

You looked around the room and smiled. It was painted this muted yellow color and had accents of pink and white. A crib sat in the corner of the room and decorations were everywhere. It was really starting to come together. Drew pulled you in for a quick kiss as you stood in the center of the room. You felt the baby kick inside of you and smiled brightly. Drew had never been around when she was kicking. You grabbed his hand and placed it on your tummy. You watched his eyes go wide as he stared at you in awe.

“Our kid is pretty great, isn’t she?” he said. He loved her so much already.

Month Seven

You were getting pretty big by now. You stood by the wall and held the sign. Our families were getting so excited as we got closer and closer to the due date. They lived for your monthly updates. They also FaceTimed you guys weekly to make sure you felt perfect and so they could see what was changing. They loved being updated on my cravings and you health condition.

You laid on the couch, cuddled into Drew’s arms, as you talked to Jodi. You loved seeing how similar Drew and his mom were. She smiled and asked for a hint on the name we picked, but you had agreed not to tell anyone until after she was born. It was killing your parents.

When he finally hung up, you smiled at each other. The baby always kicked when we talked to our moms. Their voices triggered a happy reaction. He placed his hands there again and felt the movement. He placed a small little kiss on your belly.

“Hey, baby girl… It’s daddy,” he whispered. Then he said something that made you fall in love with him all over again. “I love you, my little lilypad.”

Month Eight

You took the picture for month eight and smiled. You were continuing to gain about a pound of weight a week. You knew we were on the home stretch and honestly, you just wanted my little girl to be here already. Drew took the picture and smiled at you. He was being especially sweet that past few days. He constantly praised you for carrying his child and it made your heart so happy.

We laid in bed together and you shifted in discomfort. The baby has been pressing up against your ribs lately and it was really uncomfortable. You felt Drew pull you into his arms and rubbed your back. You sniffled as your chest felt like it was tightening.

“Hey, shhhh…” he cooed in your ear. He placed small kisses all over your face. “I’m so proud of you. Just a little bit more and then we finally get to meet our little lilypad.”

He was right. One more month and Lilith would be right here in your arms.

Month Nine

We took the final pregnancy photo and jumped for joy. Our little princess would be with you guys in no time. He had gotten your hospital bag ready and the nursery was now finished. All of your friends and families were getting super excited to meet your little girl. Most days, you sat on the couch, on the phone with your moms. They both were planning their trips out here for after the baby was born.

It was about a week before our due date when my contractions began. You sat in bed and panicked as you tried to get a hold of Drew. Your eyes squinted as they became more frequent. Finally, he picked up and you told him you were going into labor. You stood up to grab the hospital bag as he told me he was leaving the gym, clearly in a state of shock. While you were hanging up, your water broke. That’s when it all became way too really.

About 7 hours later, you laid in the hospital bed with Drew. Your little girl was curled up in his arms and the way he stared at her made you melt. He teared up as she slept so peacefully in his arms.

“She’s so beautiful,” he said in a strained voice. He was holding in tears at the sight of our child. “Welcome home, lilypad. Mommy and daddy love you so much.”

______________________________________________

Tag List : @justcallmesams @jellyfishbeansontoast @prejudic3 @queenieloveswriting @jjtheangel @infinitydols @simpingforrudypankowonly @waywardbarbie @outerbankslut @outerbongs @ilovejjmaybank @beth-winchester21 @jiaraendgame @sunwardsss @talksopretty @bb-tings @teenwaywardasgardian @netflix-imagines @canibeoneofthepogues @raekenliar @judayyyw @jjpogueprincess @waywardbabie @casper17

Tagging a few more: @spilledtee @starlightstarkey @potterheadhollander @anonymous0writer @tomhardybby @diverdcwn

[amarantine-amirite]

It's Not Up To You

I never once had any peace or rest. There was a persistent threat that resources and places would vanish without a trace. Even though I never got my ass handed to me daily, I could never anticipate when I would be able to catch my breath.  

I had to adapt. I had to be able to alter my expectations faster than the circumstances would change. It forced me to abandon having a set image of what I want in my mind. It took away my ability to visualize. I had to anticipate resources disappearing in the future, so I had a hard time with long-term planning.  

Going into the week, I had it all figured out. I had found an iron-clad way for me to have my cake and eat it too. It may not have been ideal, but at least I still had the resources available.

My mother planned to drive me to my piano concert. Because she had a stressful day at work yesterday, she went to the bar. She neither came home nor returned any of my calls, so I assumed she was either crazy hungover or still passed out. I now had to hitch a ride with Jackie and her sister, Henrietta.  

Henrietta drove like she had lead feet. “Uh, Ettie,” Jackie asked, “you just blew through a traffic light at” 

“Don’t tell me how fast I’m going; I need to know where I am!” she snapped. 

“Can we at least stop and get lunch?” I asked. I last ate at 7:00 AM. Bad things happen when I try to function on an empty stomach. My temper gets worse. My impulse control goes to Hell. I bounce off the walls.  

“Hell, no!” Henrietta snarled, “If we stop to eat, we’ll get stuck in a traffic snarl!”

“OK, what’s your problem?” I whined. I had no idea why Henrietta got so upset. 

Henrietta sighed angrily. “Do you wanna know why I’m so fucking pissed off?" she barked, "Those fuckers moved up my fucking interview by a fucking week. I was supposed to get married today! All that money I spent on the venue, the photographer, the catering; that’s money I’m never going to see again!” 

I don’t know how Henrietta could say that without bursting into tears. “And what about Jasper? He’s going to think I broke off the wedding because I don’t have feelings for him anymore. I’m worried. He doesn’t handle rejection well. What if he tries to kill himself again?” 

What happened next felt like being in the desert and coming upon an oasis, only to discover it’s a mirage. When we arrived at our destination, everything went up in smoke. Before we left, Henrietta told me that she would drop us off first, then head to the interview. She looked at us and said, “Nobody's leaving until I finish my interview. Understand?” 

I nodded. Inside, I wanted to smack her. Hard.

Today has been nothing but hurry up and wait, hurry up and wait, hurry up and wait. I fucking hate being jerked around like this. The constant stop-and-start made me feel like someone drained of my life force. I can’t deal with it anymore. 

Jackie and I came up with a plan. The plan was simple, like Henrietta’s would-be husband, Jasper. Unlike Jasper, the plan stood a chance of working. When they let her in to do the interview, Jackie and I would duck out and go to my piano concert. We’d come back when I finished my set, and that’d be that.

Problem. We made a huge tactical error. 

It’s a long story. At the beginning of the school year, the cheerleaders thought it would be funny to nominate Anna Rose, the head of the chess club, for prom queen as a joke. Anna didn’t know about this, but the principal did. On Halloween night, we got something really scary in our inboxes: an official email with the school's letterhead saying that due to “bullying", prom would be permanently cancelled until measurable snowfall in July. A lot of the anxieties that kids channel into what they’re going to do at their prom got redirected elsewhere. 

The kids at school got offended. By everything. Like, a lot.

Remember how I said that school has been so hard for me because I have no idea what to expect? Well, this piano concert thing was a perfect example. I had to make a list of not just one song, but for possible songs that I could play at this concert. I need to be ready to switch out songs in case the band teacher changed his mind. He always did stuff like that. One day, you could pick whatever song you wanted for school concerts, and the next, they would say that it had to come from a pre-approved list. So that meant I had no idea what song I was going to play. When people asked me, the best I could say was, "I’ve got a lineup." Lineup was not a good choice of words; a better choice of words would have been revolving door .

This brings us to our mistake: the same reason that I had to keep a revolving door of songs in my mind for the concert was also the same reason why we should have called the hotel where the concert was to be held ahead of time to double-check to see if the school had not cancelled it. We did not do that.

That brings us to right now. We are smack dab in the middle of what appears to be a campus recruitment event. Everyone in the room except for us is wearing cheap suits that fit somebody else, nobody looks familiar, and the atmosphere consists of a general air of anxiety and lack of preparedness.

Five minutes after we arrived, a woman wearing a pantsuit that made her look like a pool table, pineapple earrings, and a name tag that read “Megan Mulroney“ approached us. “Excuse me, ladies," she said, “are you students at The Fletcher School?”

“No, we go to Arthur Vandelay high school," Jackie said, “I’m here with Margaret because she’s got a piano concert to go to.” 

I stood up and looked at Megan. “So is that in the Gold room, because I got a copy of the flyer here and it says Hall B, and I don’t know where that is, and…”

Megan cut us off. “I don't know what you’re talking about,” she said.

I handed Megan the flyer. “I’m talking about this.”

She didn’t look at the flyer. She gave it right back to me. “I don’t know what you’re trying to pull here, but that’s a piece of blank paper." 

“It’s not blank!” I chirped. 

“Yes, it is; and I don’t appreciate you wasting my time like this.“

“We’re not wasting your time.”

“Well then, why am I dealing with two overdressed high school idiots when I have new grads to check in for a networking event?” she said, doing her best impression of a bratty 12-year-old.

“Why are you so stubborn?”

Megan shrugged at us and rolled her eyes in a cocky fashion. “I'm not stubborn all the time. I'm only stubborn when I’m right.” 

Big red flag. If someone says I'm only stubborn when I'm right , it means they're putting up a front, either because they don't want to but they're wrong or they're trying to bullshit you. 

She continued to puff herself out. “Listen, you’re not special. What happens to you happens to other people, too.”

“Not helpful,” I said as I rolled my eyes.  

She shrugged her shoulders. “Well, sorry you feel that way.”

“What does that even mean?” I blurted.  

She ignored us. Rather than explain what was going on, she instead attempted to have phone sex with Idris Elba and got the wrong number.

It didn’t stop there. One look out the window told me we’d have to get someone else to pick us up, as Henrietta got arrested. I’m guessing she found out that the job she applied for was posted as an April Fool’s Day joke and she either trashed the office or beat the crap out of the hiring manager. Based on the black eye, I think it was the second thing. 

Terrific. Now we have no plan, no ride home, and no idea what the fuck is supposed to happen next. 

I’m devastated. I feel gutted. But beyond that, I'm spooked.

This isn't something you'd consider typically scary. It felt like that last photo taken before a disaster. This looming sense that something catastrophic is coming down the pike continues to hang over me.

@writers-are-writers

[thequeendesi]

Take A Bow

Title: Take A Bow

Warnings: swearing, cheating, mentions of sex and alcohol ( just a mention ), baby

Pairings: N/A

AU: Grown Up

Disclaimer: i dont own you or the Twilight Saga franchise, i do own the writing.

Rating: PG-13

A/N: Im thinking of making a part 2! If i should lemme know! Also let me know who should be the true love!!

Part2

….

You let out a dry laugh as the scene unfolded in front of you. Now, him doing this to you, didn't surprise you. Hell, Paul was one of the more popular boys in college. Fraternities, parties, alcohol and sex seemed to be the one thing he was known for. When you two first met he totally posed as a good person. However after a couple years, a house and a baby on the way in the up and coming weeks he definitely seemed to have started to drift.

Oh, how about a round of applause, yeah

Standing ovation

Oh, yeah

Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah

"Don't leave! We can talk this out!" Paul chased after you, throwing on his robe. "Talk what out Paul?" You scoffed, throwing a couple of shirts into a bag. "I didn't mean it!" He huffed. "Oh, so you didn't mean to shove your dick repeatedly in her or…?" You looked at him. "If you leave we will never be able to fix this!" He said, exasperated. "Maybe I don't want to fix this."

You look so dumb right now

Standing outside my house

Trying to apologize

You're so ugly when you cry

Please, just cut it out

You tossed your phone onto the old bed. It was yours when you were 16… however you were far from 16. "Paul's outside." Your dad, Charlie, walked into the room. "Of course he is.." You scoffed. "Do you want to see him?" Charlie asked, scratching the back of his neck. Paul moved to where your window was, waving his arms around. You growled to yourself, as you opened the window. "I don't want to see you Paul! We can discuss anything but the child, but it's over between you and me!"

Don't tell me you're sorry 'cause you're not

Baby, when I know you're only sorry you got caught

"Does Paul keep texting you?" Bella asked. "I only answer about the kid." You shrugged, sitting on the Cullen's couch. "Are you and the dog finally done-zo?" Rosalie asked, walking into the room. "'Fraid so." You said softly, pushing your hair from your face. "Least you'll get something out of the relationship." Rosalie said, a sour attempt at trying to make you feel better, but an attempt none the least.

But you put on quite a show

Really had me going

But now it's time to go

Curtain's finally closing

That was quite a show

Very entertaining

But it's over now (but it's over now)

Go on and take a bow

"I really feel bad crashing here." You sighed, however Esme hushed you quick, handing you a sandwich. "Nonsense. You're a sweet girl and we want to help anyway we can." You smiled as you took the sandwich. "You look like you haven't slept a wink." Esme said in a worried tone as she moved behind you to fix your hair into a clean ponytail. "I really haven't." You sighed as you ate some of the sandwich. "Do you have anything for us to do?" Emmett asked, walking over with Jasper. "I still need to grab clothes from the house." You finished the sandwich. "Say less."

Grab your clothes and get gone (get gone)

You better hurry up

Before the sprinklers come on (come on)

Talking' bout'

"Girl, I love you, you're the one."

This just looks like a re-run

Please, what else is on (on)

"Open up, Paul!" Emmett knocked on the door. "What do you need?" The tanned man asked, opening the door. Disheveled and shirtless. "We were sent to get clothes." Jasper said, pushing past Paul, up to the bedroom, completely ignoring the naked woman on the bed. "You never learn do you?" Emmett rose an eyebrow, grabbing a suitcase as they packed it full of clothes. "It's hard to keep your hands off of your real mate. You'd know Emmett." Paul said.

Don't tell me you're sorry 'cause you're not

Baby, when I know you're only sorry you got caught

"Real mate..." You repeated what Jasper said. "I wasn't... you mean… oh my god." You let out a choked sob as you sat on the floor. "Emotions…" Jasper nudged Emmett as they walked out of the room backwards. "Oh dear..." Alice sighed, walking into the room, sitting on her knees next to you. "I assume you've found out something?" She asked, pushing stray hairs from your face. "He didn't love me." You said, the tears streaming down your face.

But you put on quite a show

Really had me going

But now it's time to go

Curtain's finally closing

That was quite a show

Very entertaining

But it's over now (but it's over now)

Go on and take a bow

You leaned your back against the cold wall as you looked forward. "You gonna get out of bed today?" Bella asked, sitting next to you onto the plush bed. "I gotta... I got work." You sighed. "Do you think I'll find my forever?" You asked, halfheartedly. "I think anyone can." She half-smiled at you. "Now you're dead- well, undead, with a husband for life and a daughter. I got a son with no one." You looked at your stomach.

Oh, and the award

For the "Best Liar" goes to you

(goes to you)

For making me believe

That you could be

Faithful to me

Let's hear your speech

"Please. Just hear me out. I couldn't control myself." Paul walked behind you as you walked through the isles of the store. "You slept with her and didn't even have the decency to tell me... for weeks this went on and I can't believe that you had Seth cover for you!" You kept a hushed tone as you turned your back towards him, putting a pack of newborn diapers in the cart. "I can't help that I don't love you the way I love her!" He shouted in the middle of the aisle. "I hate you." You said lowly, pushing the cart to the register.

How about a round of applause

A standing ovation

You sighed. "Thank you guys." You said, sitting on the bed. "No problem. We made the same one for Renesmee when she was born." Carlisle smiled fondly at you as he stood up. "I really appreciate you letting me stay here." You said. "You don't have to thank us. We love having you around. You're good people." He nodded at you. "Carlisle… do you think everything will be alright?" You asked, looking at him. "I know it will be."

But you put on quite a show

Really had me going

Now it's time to go

Curtain's finally closing

That was quite a show

Very entertaining

But it's over now (but it's over now)

Go on and take a bow

But it's over now

[brideofcthulhu10]

What would the lost boys think if you accidentally say a different mens name like from a rockbands name. While you was having sex with them

Sure thing fang baby, lemme give it a shot! I’m gonna be honest hon, there isn’t anything romantic about this scenario though, this one is gonna be a whole lot of drama. I write them according to what I think would happen based on their personalities. And let’s be realistic here- None of the boys would respond well to this. All of them are only ever going to polyamorous between each other and their s/o’s in a best case scenario. Outsiders involved in any way, shape, or form is seriously frowned upon. You could call to the great artists of the Renaissance, you could call out Eddie frickin Van Halen, it doesn’t matter. Trust me on this. 

THANK YOU TO @imlostinsantacarla WHO IS NOT ONLY MY CO-AUTHOR BUT A FELLOW LOST BOYS WRITER, AND AN AMAZING FRIEND! I appreciate all the help you’ve been, dude I love ya like a sister! Seriously guys, check out her blog, she is amazing!

The Lost Boys’ S/O Moans a Rock Star’s Name During Sex

18+ CONTENT WARNING: Contains Offensive Language, Gore, Homicide, Violent Behaviors, Potential Emotional Triggers, Sexual Themes! READER'S DISCRETION IS ADVISED!

David 

Any name that isn't his will infuriate him. All he knows is while he's on top of you, you just said another man's name. There's a split second where the infernos of Hades ignites his entire body aflame with pure unadulterated rage. His eyes spark white hot, it takes every ounce of willpower he has to physically calm himself so he doesn't "accidentally" kill you. It's tempting, nearly impossible to resist the urge to slice you open while he's still inside you. How dare you say anyone else's name. 

There’s quite the conflict in his head. He wonders if he should pull out, and leave you there without another word. But instead he chooses to take his revenge. Your mouth won't ever make the mistake of calling to anyone but him ever again, if you’re even lucky enough to be graced with his presence once he’s finished with you. Immediately he would've grabbed you by your throat, tempted to squeeze you until you fainted as he demanded you tell him again who's name you just screamed. It's a terrifying moment, you barely choke out the words before he flips you onto your stomach

"...What was that, kitten? I don’t think I heard those lips right! You're gonna have to say that louder for me."

Make no mistake, the fact that it's the name of a celebrity as you desperately try to claim, means fuck all to him. He will punish the fuck out of you! Everything is drawn out. He'll choke your neck until you can't even moan, just barely teasing when you begin to have tunnel vision. There is no way you'll be satisfied, this is for him! He's not about to give you what you want until you're crying, pleading for him to let you orgasm. You know what he does? Just at the edge of climax covered in scratches and bites, he pulls out and leaves you. Shaken, exhausted, alone, and unsatisfied. Why the hell would he give you the satisfaction of what you want when you called another man's name when you guys were having sex?

David is one of the guys whose ego is going to be busted, and that is a very poor choice to make. He would immediately get dressed. No aftercare, he wants you to feel filthy, dirty. You didn't deserve his love that night. The guys would jump out of his way, you don't want to be in his warpath when he gets like this. As he's tearing through victims he's constantly questioning himself. Why are you thinking of another man when you guys are intimate?! He doesn't let people in, but he let you in, and you fucked it! Obliterating his trust in less than a second.

Expect him to suspect you of adultery. Give him space, because for the next few weeks he won't humor any excuses you give him. How can he be sure you aren't lying?!  Maybe it wasn't the lead singer of the band you just said. Maybe it was just some fucker with a similar first name. David's trust in you no longer exists, and his respect is gone too. Afterwards he refuses to get intimate with you. Even hugs are rejected, he doesn't want you touching him- period!

Celebrity or not, don't bother being surprised when that guy winds up dead in their precious Hollywood estate a week later. David is possessive as fuck and he doesn't take betrayal lightly, no matter how big or small. You’d hear it on TV. The rock star found with his wrists and throat slashed, presumed suicide. But you already knew who was responsible. David isn’t even phased when you storm up to him on the boardwalk with a lit cigarette in his mouth. Of course he used mind control to have the bastard stab himself and slash open his throat. He only wishes he could’ve done it himself. He’ll even tell you all the gruesome details, mocking how he greatly suffered because David made him think there were bugs under his skin. David is over 110% petty. In fact, he’ll taunt you about this after. At first it’ll come off cold, passive and indifferent before it spills over into pure aggression. If you dare try to get angry at him he’ll put that to rest real fast, looking you dead in the eyes.

"You’re damn right I killed him. And you know what? His blood on your hands, y/n, not mine. You made one grave fucking mistake, you have no one but yourself to blame. I don't know why you're crying."

He's never gonna let you forget this. The likelihood of him staying is entirely dependent on how long you two were together. That also means how angry he gets will rely on that as well. He's not gonna trust you after either. In his eyes you're both done. But even then, you're still his at the end of the day. He’s not losing to a corpse, you knew the moment you two came together that you were going to be with him- whether you fucking like it or not. If you think you're gonna dare to move on, and leave him miserable in the dust after hurting him so, think again! You’ll be making it up to him for years, and maybe, just maybe, he’ll forgive you. 

Dwayne

Low-key freezes at first. It’s almost an otherworldly feeling. He must have heard you wrong! Did he hear you right? No way! Was that someone else's name? It certainly wasn’t his! Dwayne will just full on stop the action, the look on his face just dropping! It’s confusion, fear, rage. There’s no words. You had said another man’s name. Not even said it- you screamed it out. The nervous expression furrowing your face told him all he needed to know. He would immediately get dressed and leave you still sprawled on his bed storming off before he’s tempted to scream at you.

But he doesn’t. In fact, he doesn't say anything, but when you look into his eyes he's pissed! His eyes are fucking GLOWING, his fangs are bared, utterly insulted! This is a rage you’ve never seen on Dwayne. You done fucked up mate. This was an intensely intimate moment with him that you just shattered by the mere mention of someone else. Rock band or not, it’s another man’s name. Period. He knows exactly who Steven Tyler is, he doesn’t give a fuck.

When he pulled out and got off of you it was with such speed you never thought was possible from him because of how big his stature is. But now he’s shaken. For a moment it doesn’t even seem possible. Dwayne is trying to calm down, but if his heart was still beating it would be tearing through his chest. He feels like he might throw up, his stomach is just twisting into hideous knots he never thought possible. 

Dwayne is hurt. Utterly crushed. He loves you, or rather, loved you. It’s hard for him to understand what to do with this. He would never dream of doing something this dumb like that to you. Out on the boardwalk he doesn't even see other men or women, like that because he's with you, so for you to do that to him? He's intensely wounded. You said a rock star’s name, but what’s to stop you next time from saying someone else’s name? If you were going to be screaming other people’s names during sex, how far would you go?

When he leaves, he storms off for hours. You won’t see him again until the sun is starting to rise, and even then he won’t speak to you. Well, unless it’s to tell you to get out. Yeah, he wants you gone. Go home. When he’s ready, he’ll talk to you. For now, he doesn’t even look at you. Don’t expect to see him on the boardwalk. In fact, none of the boys are there. If they see you, it's silence and dirty looks. They’ve never seen Dwayne like this. Even when Jasper died he powered through it. This made him utterly depressed, nothing made their friend smile. Paul tried everything, even dancing in drag! Nothing! 

Out of everyone, it's gonna be the hardest for Dwayne to move past this. It’s not just a major turn off, it almost feels like a betrayal. Unless you two have been together for a significant amount of time, he’d probably break up with you. If not, then he’d demand space. He isn’t ready to let go, but he’s not ready to just forgive you. He won't be able to look at you the same afterwards. How could you be thinking of another man when his dick is literally inside of you? 

Are you unhappy? Are you unsatisfied? Like what's going on? Did you not want to be with him anymore?! He’d be questioning himself, questioning anything. Probably will talk it out with you but it's difficult for him to move past. 

It'll take a long time before he can be intimate, if he even can be with you because the trust just isn't there anymore. For Dwayne to be with someone, to let them in, he needs there to be trust in order for him to be intimate. It’s so hard for him to let someone in his life outside of his brothers, especially if you’re human. Now? He doesn’t even know. He may try to patch things up but all he’d hear and see is just you crying for someone else. The damage done might be too much for him to handle. If you guys manage to revive your relationship it’d be an utter miracle because honestly the chances are viciously slim. 

Paul

Whatever band member’s name you just called is now officially ruined for Paul forever. By the time you screamed it he was pretty much finished, and mid-climax his heart just drops, utterly falls into his stomach and any horny left inside him is dead. 

That man just pulled out so fast you were winded. He won't touch you after, and if you even try to touch him he will slap your hand away! Eventually he’s so pissed he’ll try to get away from you because he's just so furious. You have to understand, he didn’t hear a band name, he hear another man’s name

"Wait what-... What the fuck-?! What the ever loving fuck did you just fucking say?!" 

A switch has gone off in his head and he's almost violently shoving his clothes on. If you won’t leave then he will, and he honestly needs to get the fuck of there pronto before he’s tempted to do something messy he might regret! 

Paul may come off as this cocky, goofy playboy himself, but he's serious about you! He may have slept around before, but he’s only ever in a relationship, a real, serious relationship, if he truly trusts you. Paul hates being vulnerable, it’s a foreign and risky task that could bite him in the ass. And it just did. All trust is gone and he immediately jumps to the conclusion that you're sleeping with other people. A wave of insecurity takes over. He has a fragile ego, that’s why he tends to be such a needy boyfriend- he always needs to know you love him and that you won’t leave him. Honestly, now he can't look at a picture of the band member you called out during sex anymore, it’s ruined for him now. Their music pisses them off, their face makes him enraged. Even sex is ruined for him for awhile. This boy is so possessive it's unreal, but you've made things all weird now and he can't shake that shit off!

He genuinely cares about you! He knows he's done some dumb shit before! Paul’s behavior can always come across as flirty, even when he’s in his most relaxed state. He’s gotten shit for it before, and he totally understood when you would get ticked off at him for it. But... he never expected that fucking shit to come from you!

Paul will try to patch things up, as best as he can. He doesn't really wanna stay mad at you; it's not his style. However, things are just... different after. He lost that deep, trusting connection with you he once had. It’s just back to square one now, he may even need some space for a few days. Even if you guys manage to pick up the pieces, you have to earn every ounce of his trust back. Part of him sees it as a challenge. Every time you have sex he is determined to make it the most incredible, mind melting, mouth watering fuck he’s ever give in his afterlife! You won’t ever, ever think of another guy again! Unfortunately it makes it hard for him to enjoy it, because not only is he not relaxed, he’s utterly focused on you and there’s still such a massive fear that you’ll do it again.

Part of him desperately wants to murder the guy, and he wouldn't feel bad about it. Not one bit.  Gets way more possessive with you than he ever had been in the past, and frankly it’ll take years before he ever learns to relax again. He may see you as untrustworthy whenever you're around other males.  His anger is uncontrollable some nights, will probably kick, punch, or throw things. His rage is fucking untamed man! This haunts him, he thought you were starting to lov-... well, now he feels like an idiot. 

If you really do stay with him, Paul will be petty. He’s immature, he’s never had this serious of a relationship. So with that, he doesn’t understand how to handle the complex emotions that come with a situation like this. Even though you hurt him, he still cares about you! And that, in a way, makes him even angrier! He should be furious with you, but more than anything he just wants you to want him. Only him! He will remind you of this constantly, even with callous side comments because he can’t let go. If you guys fuck he may start call another women's name. Part of him doesn't give a shit if it makes you uncomfortable or insecure, because you did it to him! 

Paul will blast his favorite bands that you didn't ruin for him, even the other guys can’t cheer him up. None of them have ever seen Paul like this. You wouldn’t expect it to hit him this hard, but it does. He was laying into you, he was inside you, and your mind wanted someone else. Your pleasure wasn’t for him! Your desire, your love, your mind was yearning someone else when he was giving you everything he had! He won't look at you, or talk to you for a good few days. Maybe even a week. He won’t let you come to the hotel, on the boardwalk he’ll openly give you the cold shoulder. The other guys might too. How could they be certain it even was a band name? Maybe Paul had just rationalized it as a rock name so he didn’t have to face the fact you called for some random guy. David is wholly convinced you were having an affair, Marko is just pissed you hurt his friend, Dwayne just doesn’t know what to think of it all. Anytime you try to talk to him before he’s ready, he just acts like you don't exist. He’s hurt, and his anger is the only thing keeping him from forbidden tears. Just give him some space man! 

Marko

Marko would be the most hurt out of the group. The sound is just sickening. There he was, holding you to him, deep inside when your voice said… the wrong name? The horror makes his stomach drop, he immediately lifts himself off to look at you still lost in pleasure even as he’s stopped. He's so hard to read, you don't even realize you've hurt him until he's pulled himself out and off of you. 

He wouldn’t speak, or move for a solid 30 minutes. Just silently sitting on the edge of the bed, if you tried to speak he wouldn’t even turn to look at you. His muscles are rigid, wound tight in knots. He’s imploding from the inside, it’s impossible for him to keep his vampire rage subdued, so in a fury he leaves. Marko is not fucking around right now. You’ve screwed up, majorly. He thinks you’ve been cheating on him, and if there’s something Marko takes very seriously, it’s loyalty. He needs to get to get the fuck away from you, because he’s not sure if he can control himself for much longer, and despite his suspicions he doesn't want to hurt you. 

Unlike Paul or Dwayne, when he returns Marko will not talk this out. You honestly shouldn’t have stayed, you should have left when he was gone because he’s still seething when you try to explain yourself. No. You're in the fucking wrong and he's not budging. He will not be hearing any of your bullshit excuses, whatever you throw out doesn’t matter! It's a dumb move he'd expect from Paul, but not from you. Part of him is almost tempted to just try to work things out, but Marko doesn’t trust easily and you’ve not just damaged his trust, you’ve damaged his self esteem. When he heads to the caves and you’re still here he’s had enough.

“Get out…”

“Wh-What?”

Marko flares his fangs at you, blood still staining his mouth. “GET. THE FUCK. OUT.”

You will not be back in that hotel for a long time, if ever again. Marko will avoid you for a while, and I’m talking months here. It’s not just a silent treatment, if he sees you approaching he will start up his motorcycle and ride away- with or without the other guys. He can’t even look at you. If we’re being realistic here, Marko probably won't be able to be intimate with you again. He can’t look past it. All he can see is you calling for someone else, in your heated climax in his arms, utterly exposed, and you desired someone else. He has more self respect for himself than the others, so more than likely he will break up with you! 

He’s hurt. It's a cluster of emotions, all of them feel horrid. Rage, pain, sorrow, betrayal. How could you do this? Have you seen him? (like bruhhhhhh where you gonna find a man that rocks a crop top as good as him? where?) He definitely went on a killing spree right after. He needs to release his rage, it’s so pent up he doesn’t know how else to handle it. There would be blood everywhere, there wouldn’t even be any bodies left behind. Everything is utter carnage. Marko would need some serious alone time from everyone, he wouldn't talk to the other boys for at least a few hours. 

Paul is furious at you when they find out what you did. You're fucking dead! Marko means so much to them, and you meant so much to Marko! This was his best friend! They let you into their coven, they trusted you with their brother, and you genuinely broke this poor baby’s heart! Hope you don’t have any unfinished business. Say your prayers and make amends now, because you're packing for your funeral buddy. David even hunts down anyone with the name you called and kills them, and he’ll be sure you know. You don’t hurt his friends, you’re lucky that he’s allowing you to draw breath from this miserable planet.

Afterwards, Marko does not go into another relationship for years. Maybe even a decade. It hurts him to go back on the boardwalk. Everything reminds him of you. The ferris wheel where you guys had your first kiss, the food stands he’d take you to, the arcade where he’d kick your butt at Mortal Kombat. Even more so is the sight of you. He doesn’t want to run into you at all. Even the sound of your name, anything to do with you makes him feel down or enraged. He already had trust issues before you, now he wasn’t nearly as willing to be trusting to anyone but his brothers. The next s/o he has, if he ever decides to have another, will definitely be picking up the pieces.