#and my brother and I live in quite different parts of the city

[shrews-things]

Yesterday my little brother called because a stranger, a worker at a bakery told him that he really reminded her of a friend and that he's nearly identical to this friend she has, and said my name. Turns out she's the lady from the secondhand book cart I used to live next to and befriended her while walking by nearly every day, but then I moved and she switched jobs and I haven't seen her in months and I've been wondering how she's doing every time I shopped at a book cart and apparently she remembers my name too and thinks of me as a dear friend. Idk it just made me happy and I feel like there's a poem to write here but I'm not very good with words

[swiftiethatlovesf1]

Back home

Hey guyss, I wanted to write a story for Charles to celebrate his victory in Monza. I know this part is very reader x Arthur but let me know what you think and if you want more parts :)

You’ve known the Leclercs all your life. It’s hard not to when you’re their neighbour. With you and Arthur being the same age and going to the same class, you naturally became best friends, spending every moment together. From school to afternoons playing at each other's houses to accompanying his family to the track for their races, your lives were intertwined.

You grew up with them. You were there when Arthur won his first race, when Charles got into Formula 1, when you graduated high school. Your life has always been surrounded by the Leclercs, so it was almost inevitable that you’d fall for one of them—Charles.

It was evident to everyone. Even Arthur noticed, and he didn’t like it at all. He made you promise you would never date his brother. After all, how could he stand that when he was in love with you, even if you had no idea?

Your crush on Charles was just that—a crush, an infatuation, a dream. He was older than you and often had a different girl on his arm. You didn’t stand a chance, or so you thought.

Aside from your love dilemmas, everything seemed to be going okay, until one day, your father received a job offer that involved moving to Spain. Your life changed drastically from one day to the next. You spent your last night in Monaco with Arthur, savouring your final hours together before your departure.

The moon hung low over Monaco, casting a soft glow on the city. You and Arthur sat on the steps of the Leclercs' home, the cool night air surrounding you. It was quiet, the kind of silence that carries a weight of unspoken words.

"I can't believe you're leaving," Arthur said, his voice barely above a whisper.

"I can't either," you replied, looking down at your hands. "It all happened so fast. One moment, everything was normal, and the next, we're packing up our lives."

Arthur nodded, staring off into the distance. "It's not going to be the same without you here."

You felt a lump in your throat. "I'm going to miss you so much, Arthur. We've done everything together since we were kids. I don't know what I'm going to do without you."

He turned to look at you, his eyes soft but filled with something you couldn’t quite place. "You'll do great things. You always do. Spain…it's just a new adventure for you."

"But I don't want to go," you blurted out, the tears you had been holding back starting to spill over. "I want to stay here, with you, with everyone. I don’t want to leave my life behind."

Arthur reached out, wiping a tear from your cheek with his thumb. The touch was tender, lingering longer than usual. "Hey, don’t cry. We’ll still be friends, no matter where you are. You know that, right?"

You nodded, sniffling. "I know, but it's not the same."

He hesitated for a moment, as if battling with himself. "I just…I want you to know that…you mean a lot to me. More than you probably realize."

You gave a small, shaky laugh. "You mean a lot to me too, Arthur. You're my best friend."

He looked like he wanted to say something more, his mouth opening slightly before he closed it again, shaking his head. "Yeah…best friends."

For a moment, the world seemed to hold its breath. Arthur gazed at you, his eyes searching yours, and you thought you saw something flicker there—a brief, intense flash of emotion that was gone as quickly as it appeared. Before you could decipher it, he pulled you into a hug, holding you tightly against him.

"I'll always be here for you, no matter what," he murmured into your hair.

You nodded against his chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. "And I'll always be here for you."

You stayed like that for a while, neither of you wanting to let go, until the sky began to lighten with the first signs of dawn. With a heavy heart, you pulled back, knowing it was time to go.

"Goodbye, Arthur," you whispered.

"Goodbye," he replied, his voice barely audible.

As you walked away, you missed the way he watched you, the way his hand reached out, almost as if he wanted to call you back, to tell you everything he’d been holding inside. But he didn’t. He let you go.

Years had passed since that night. You had spent the last four years in Spain, earning your degree and living a different life. But now, you were back in Monaco, ready to start your master's degree.

The airport buzzed with activity, a mix of tourists and locals rushing to their destinations. You walked through the arrival gate, scanning the crowd for a familiar face.

And there he was.

Arthur stood near the entrance, leaning against a pillar with his hands in his pockets, a smile spreading across his face as he spotted you. His hair was a bit longer, and he looked more mature, but his eyes still held that same warmth you remembered.

"Welcome back," he said, pulling you into a hug as you reached him.

"It's so good to see you!" you exclaimed, squeezing him tightly. "I've missed you."

"I've missed you too," he replied, his voice softer. He pulled back, looking you over. "Spain's been good to you. You look great."

"Thanks," you said, blushing slightly. "You look good too, Arthur. Really good."

He laughed, running a hand through his hair. "Thanks. It's been…different without you here."

You smiled, linking your arm through his as you started walking towards the exit. "Well, I'm back now. We have a lot of catching up to do."

As you talked, Arthur felt his heart swell with every word you said, every smile you gave. Seeing you again brought back all those feelings he’d tried so hard to bury. But he knew better than to show it. You still saw him as your best friend, nothing more. And after all this time, he didn’t want to risk ruining what you had.

"Yeah, we do," he agreed, keeping his voice light. "So, where to first? Home or food?"

You laughed. "Definitely food. I’m starving!"

Arthur chuckled, guiding you towards his car. "Food it is, then. I've got just the place in mind."

As he drove, he stole glances at you, soaking in every detail, every expression. He had never stopped loving you, even after all these years. But for now, he was content just having you back in his life, even if it was just as friends.

Because being near you, hearing your laugh, seeing your smile—that was enough. At least, for now.

Part 2

[kiss-me-muchoo]

𝐈𝐬 𝐢𝐭 𝐚 𝐰𝐨𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐈 𝐛𝐫𝐨𝐤𝐞? || 𝐌𝐚𝐫𝐜𝐮𝐬 𝐀𝐜𝐚𝐢𝐮𝐬 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐱 𝐄𝐦𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐨𝐫 𝐆𝐞𝐭𝐚

part one: here || part two; i’ve been the archer

summary_ after returning from Egypt, you are set to marry your half brother Geta. When you fall in love with General Marcus Acaius, your brother tries everything to prevent you from slipping away from him.

warnings_CRINGE, age gap!, semi incest (do not romanticize irl) reader x Geta, drama, angst, VERY quick love confessions, implied SMUT +18

NOTES_ who’s afraid of little old me?, I just wished there were gallows in Ancient Rome, listen to my awful playlist for Marcus and the classic I have for Pedro bb.

♪ ♫ Pedro playlist + Marcus’s playlist ✰ Index (+ fics here)

If there was something you’d never miss… were the carmine sunsets. Those lasted more than usual. That kept the beginning of the night warm and made you the silent promise of another good day by the following morning.

It had been easy for your father to send you away as soon as your mother quit their marriage. Your brother was a big inconvenience and a hidden mistake that shattered your little wealthy family. Under the cautious look of the Roman Senate, your parents were still bonded in a strong marriage. But the truth was that your father never truly loved the woman who gave birth to you. Which led to your mother leaving for Egypt, a Roman Province. Soon after her departure, you were sent to Alexandria too.

Each day was a boost to your status. Learning a vast variety of languages and dialects, learning different types of dances, being able to handle weapons, and gaining control over the Egyptian cities, to help your powerful father; The Emperor.

You barely missed Rome. Your mother was a cold Empress that loosened all the knots your father could have tightened around you. Growing up used to the Egyptian parties, drinking the finest beer and bread. Taking occasional lovers since virginity was not a necessity for marriage in Egyptian society. One of those lovers specifically, was a tall warrior with sun-kissed bronze skin that transformed you into a woman in every aspect you couldn’t discover by yourself. It was a shame when he died after a bad injury during war.

In the present, being in your first years as a young woman, things were likely to change, and you were very aware of it. That didn’t stop you from having the time of your life in the vivid city of Alexandria. With very few friends, a dead lover, and a dream.

Every night you savored those carmine sunsets to pray to Venus. Perhaps your dream of finding a true love hadn’t happened yet due to praying to her instead to Hathor; the god of love in Egyptian territory. Nevertheless, you intended to marry a man who was ridiculously, recklessly, and borderline obsessed with you. You wanted to live the broken dream of your mother.

Until desires were abruptly paused one night. When you received a letter from your father.

“A letter from the Emperor. It is the wish of your father to have you back in Rome” Your walls crumbled into pieces. The face of shock was splashed all across your face as you listened to your mother.

“What motivated his decision?”

“I can assure you, I don’t know, my child,” your mother says vaguely, tending his favorite flowers inside the palace.

“Do not lie to me, mother” she sighs and suddenly, she starts crying. You don’t know what to do, but the sight unsettles you.

“He wants you to marry Geta…” your eyes get impossibly wide open, and you gasp in shock.

“My brother?” your mother nods. You pace back and forth, wondering why and how could your father come to that conclusion.

Although you were used to attending weddings in Egypt that came from a mother marrying her son, to a brother marrying his sister, it was… awkward. This was the boy that destroyed your family, the boy that would take half of your rights as heir was meant to be your husband and father of your children.

The mere thought scares you.

“Will you accompany me?” It’s the first thing you come up with.

“I must stay here since Egypt won’t have you now” You frown at her words. But your throat tightens, defying to produce tears that quickly threaten to spill everywhere.

“Be strong, remember everything I’ve taught you. No men will defy the tenacity of the emperor’s daughter.” you nod, your eyes prickling with fear that explodes in your chest.

“And in between, find the love I couldn’t keep, no matter what, y/n…”

“I’m seeing you again, Right, mother?” she nods, giving you a cold hug.

“I’ll always be here…”

For the first time, the carmine sunset does not bring you peace. Your mind is edging towards collapse as you approach Rome. As the light of the light leaves, you question everything. So many questions and nothing of time.

…

There were no shattered crystals after dinner as you expected. Your brother Geta welcomed you in Rome with excitement and it confused you even more. He gave you a short and personal tour of his newest garden and prepared the finest banquet made by all of the servants.

Geta is a sole copy of your father. Same mannerisms and style. Only behind his attentive look, you were aware of the sadistic man who talked to you with respect.

“Where is Father?” you ask him, sipping at your wine.

“An important meeting surged. He’ll join us tomorrow, we are preparing vast festivities”

“Festivities for what?” he smiles, you don’t like how compassionate and polite he’s being.

“Our marriage, soror” The heavy makeup on his face does everything to hide the truth of the narcissistic man he is.

You could swear he hated you because your mother was the sovereign empress and you the rightful heir. Your father just happened to have two wives and two kids at the same time.

And despite everything, you didn’t hate your brother. You despised her mother for drawing your own apart from your father. For convincing him to send you away from your solemn fair future. For transforming your brother into some incompetent who seemed to have a hunger for chaos and madness.

“I must thank you, for welcoming me… despite our background differences” It takes him aback. Geta expected a disheveled girl, a rebellious female who followed the ways of the savages; the Egyptians. But he encountered a bright and marvelous sister who tried to act with peace after being so far from home for so long.

“I wished we could’ve grown together, like a united family” you admit coldly, avoiding the whole marriage issue.

“We will be a family, y/n. I’ll make sure of that” he says hiding his lips in his cup of wine and it sends shivers running down your spine.

Geta sees how you stand up and politely push forward the chair you were seated in; excellent manners.

“As a tradition of mine, I’ll see the sunset and pray before going to rest. Please excuse me….” your brother nods, still processing your words as you leave the imposing place where you were born. You desperately need fresh air.

Near there’s a meadow with empty spaces. It’s just a piece of land that soon would probably serve to build another coliseum.

One thing is noticeable. Sunsets in Rome aren’t carmine… they are mauve. And for some reason, you can’t feel peace.

But you hold tight to your dream. Your happiness is what you’ve prioritized ever since a teenager.

That’s why you hadn’t failed a day to pray to Venus.

Venus, hear me, please. You whose care, throughout all the centuries, the unions of men and their lovers have been placed, what, I pray, have I come to merit? Release me from this uncertainty, gift me a lover, who will warm my heart for eternity. Venus, save me from the hells of my ancestries.

Someone touches your naked shoulder, it makes you gasp in horror.

“I didn’t mean to scare you.” someone says. When you turn around, you are facing a man who’s incredibly taller and broader than you. He’s significantly older than you, but he’s graceful. The second he takes to appreciate the sunset as well is your chance to study his profile. Gorgeous classical profile.

“Excuse me, but… Who are you?” you ask, moving aside, leaving his hand that rested on your shoulder in the air. He noticed it.

“General Marcus Acaius… I wondered why a woman was here all alone” you know him. He’s the most successful general your father ever had. He was a concise warrior, even considered a killer.

Somehow, you couldn’t help but find some sweetness in his deep voice. By knowing him for just a second, you felt comfortable by his side.

“I take pleasure in appreciating the sunset…” your soft features intrigued him. You looked slightly different than most of the women he sees in Rome.

“I haven’t appreciated the sky since I was a kid”

“What a shame, General. You would find some peace hidden between the clouds” Your accent was slightly colder than everyone’s. You didn’t have the golden hair that usually meant power. He was infatuated and tremendously interested in the woman he was facing.

“I must know where you come from…” he says, paying attention to your eyes. You smile, touching the little pearls that fall from your pale blue dress.

“I was born here… but circumstances made Alexandria my home. I arrived last night…” his eyes show surprise. He analyzed your bracelets, made of pure gold. You had a leaf crown with tiny sapphires that shimmered around your head. It wasn’t hard to tell who you were.

“majestas… you shouldn’t be here” he mutters and you don’t even flinch.

“I can assure you, General Acaius… I rarely find myself in the position of damsel in distress” he chuckles and you are relieved to see he doesn’t carry a ring around his finger. It was happening so fast, you wanted to know everything about him.

“You may call me Marcus. Except when we are in the presence of your father or brother” you remember you are supposed to marry your brother. But it wasn’t official just yet. And you were quickly falling for this older and gorgeous General.

After a sweet battle or glances, he has to put down his sword. You notice the details and the signs of years of use it has.

“Is this the weapon you master the most?” he nods, noticing the dry blood around the edges.

“Indeed… I learned to wield it before I even went to school” You smile, nervous but eager to throw your next comment. He was speaking very softly towards you. But it was obvious that he was a reserved and serious man.

“I use the spear and axe” Your revelation leaves Marcus surprised. There were very few female gladiators, most of them being treated worse than common slaves. No female in the Roman hierarchy wielded weapons.

“You truly are one of a kind, majestas” As the emperor’s daughter, you weren’t supposed to ever wield a weapon. Contrary to that rule, you were required to learn about politics. In Egypt, you were free.

“Oh, don’t call me that… my name is Y/n”

“Precious name…”

His smile mixed with yours burst in an obvious mutual flirtation. After talking for about two hours, the moon is the only witness in the dark meadows, where Marcus and you kiss until your lips are swollen and he has hydrated him after days of dryness. He promises to keep close to you as his fingers slip under the fabric of your tunic. You swear to welcome his touch no matter what as your hand palmed his girthy length under his heavy armor.

That night both of you seal your fate. That night Marcus Acaius ignites a vivid fire inside your heart.

…

Often, you wondered if candles could run out due to the excessive use of them each night. At least thirty candles are illuminating the place. You patiently wait in the room Marcus had in the Emperor’s palace, seated on the edge of the bed. When the General comes out, he spots you at his resting place. Immediately, you frown at him.

“You said it was a minor injury” There’s a lot of dry blood on his shoulder. He had taken a bath… but the injury was there, uncomfortably lying over his skin.

“It is a minor injury.” He assures, sitting beside you on the bed.

It’s been only a couple of days since you met him… and you are already too keen on him.

“There are no gladiators where I come from. Only warriors… Generals only command their soldiers. We never used weapons as a spectacle”

“I’m starting to believe Egypt is a better place than Rome” you shrug.

“I miss my home. I miss the freedom. I can’t marry Geta…” you admit out loud for the first time. Marcus huffs, he doesn’t have a problem with letting you know he is jealous.

“Right… the wedding.”

“I have to marry him after all. Only that way I could share the title of Empress with him” Marcus sighs tired.

“Am I descending into madness for these strong feelings I have for you?” you turn to look at him. Your hand moves to the end on top of his.

“I look into your eyes… and I feel safe, Marcus” you admit, straddling him. Your fingers trace his beard as you lean to kiss him deeply. He reciprocates and holds your hips steadily.

It’s a wild moment to openly share carnal passion, but neither of you cares. You push him against the feathery pillows and continue kissing. His hair gets tangled around your fingers and his forearms and hands have disappeared under your dress. You start throbbing and he gets hard. But the moment is suddenly interrupted by some footsteps near the room. In a blink of an eye, you get away from Marcus and he stands up from the bed too.

“Use the trail at the end of the hallway. I’ll see you tomorrow, satis” he says, kissing your forehead before you quietly leave his resting place.

Some guards were wandering around the place as usual. You skillfully pass by them, using the trail Marcus told you. But it’s dark and very quiet, not even illuminated by torches. Your sandals barely make a sound against the floors.

So it’s a huge surprise when a hand covers your mouth and the next thing you feel is getting slammed against the wall. It didn’t hurt you but it was violent.

You gasp for air and encounter your half-brother. He has his golden crown and velvet robes, his face almost clean of tints that weren’t his natural skin.

“What were you doing with General Acaius?” You frown.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about” his ginger hair is the only thing that shines in the dark trail.

“Quit the lie, soror. Has he made you impure?”

Oh dear brother, if you knew my purity has been gone for many years. But the truth was that Marcus hadn’t claimed you his yet.

“No. And it should not be a matter of importance to you” he chuckles.

Geta isn’t an idiot. He had seen the way Acaius looked at you during dinners. He noticed you came back to rest later than usual. And it was making him boil in anger. His disgust towards you before your arrival was strong. But after you turned to be a delight for his taste, Geta was burning for you.

“Oh, but it is a matter of importance to me. You are my future wife” he says, threatening to seal his lips with yours. The arm that was holding you still sneaked around your waist, applying a little too much pressure.

“Do you think I like the thought of other men touching or even smiling at you?”

Oh… so he was jealous.

His lips gently brush your neck as you set your eyes on the moon, waiting for the moment to be over. His touch is vicious, possessive, and harsh. The trail his lips have followed from your collarbones to your throat ends in your chin, mere inches away from your lips.

“If we can even consider this love… you have an odd way of showing it” he lets you go, the cocky smile on his face never leaving.

“Love or not… you are going to be mine”

“I’m also the heiress of the Emperor. We’ll see about that, Geta.” You spit bitterly, literally running away from him.

You have converted into an enemy for him. And you had to be ready to walk cautiously. Because you had changed your mind. Perhaps you would lose the crown… but weren’t going to marry him.

…

You missed dates so badly, but then the following morning, when a plate of them was included in the morning, you couldn’t resist. You are eating alone. Until the doors open and your father appears followed by two guards.

“Father…” you stand up, making a reverence to him. He smiles, extending his arms to hug you.

“I have wonderful news. We’ve arranged an encounter for you to demonstrate your abilities in combat” You are extremely confused.

“What?” Your father sighs, breaking the hug.

“I’m aware you performed in celebrations back in Alexandria. This is just the perfect opportunity to show the senate and council you are a prepared lady to receive the title of Empress one day…”

“Father… as much as I appreciate the intention. I’ve performed as a way to train for battle; gods forbid us from having to go to war, but… here, your soldiers and slaves fight for the mere feeling of feeding the greediness of hierarchy. I can’t do that…”

You weren’t a target for the empire to show off. You were more than just a woman with the ability to carry a weapon. You valued your freedom. And ever since arriving in Rome, day by day, you feel that you keep slipping away from it.

“The decision is taken. Heavens know why but the official announcement of your engagement with Geta remains being delayed. Hence, I won’t turn the Senate and council against me when there's no need. I may only wish you good luck, dear” You remember Marcus. He could have voted against the encounter. He was the General.

Suddenly you are bursting in anger, making the coldest reverence to your father as he leaves.

Your angry steps lead your way to Marcus. You found him taking a rest on a nearby balcony. When he spots you, his smile vanishes.

“You couldn’t impede that brainless idea of me participating in a combat?” Marcus has to sigh, placing his hands on his hips. He was expecting your anger to be honest.

“I couldn’t say no. If it did, they would suspect. I already have your brother behind my back all the time” You can fight him because he’s right. But it doesn’t dissipate your anger.

“You are going to be fine. I may be able to arrange the rules. I can choose the gladiator that will fight you, but your father and brother have the last word. What weapon do you want to use?”

“The spear…” he nods.

“Female gladiators tend to wield the bow and sword. You can easily disarm her…” you are not scared, you are just frustrated.

“Teach me the methods warriors use here…” you mutter. Marcus nods, taking your hand and giving an apologetic look.

“You will win, my dear.” His fingers place some strands of your hair behind your ear, it melts your anger and transforms it into peace. You want to scream how much you desire him. But you must retain your feelings given the hatred days you were living.

“Let me thank you for the training in advance, General,” you say, getting on your knees.

“Good girl…” Marcus whispered as soon as your tongue started working on him.

…

The usual crowd in the Colosseum couldn’t be compared with the amount of screams and cheers from the people watching the emperor’s daughter fighting one of the greatest female gladiators in Rome; Calista.

The sandy floors were covered in an elegant tapestry that marked the square where the show was occurring.

You are sweating, there's blood running down your chin and you can’t breathe correctly. Calista was ordered not kill you, but for some reason, she seemed to be personally trying to knock you out.

She had a helmet and armor in gold and red. But it was hard to deny everyone was invested in the attire you wore. A golden mask of Neith, the god of war that covered your face and a gold vest and bare shoulders. Everyone thought you were insane for that.

You remember all the things Marcus told you. Soon after your father started the encounter, you learned gladiators were blinded by the necessity of seeing blood on their rival instead of following a technique of combat.

Calista’s sword is sharp enough to give you a long cut by the movement of a soft swatch. You yelp in pain and she kicks your ribs, making you fall to your knees.

Marcus stands worried from his seat, but he soon returns to his place after making eye contact with Geta, who sends daggers with his eyes. Marcus understood your brother was insane when he disapproved of the gladiator he had chosen. Geta picked the most sanguinary and violent warrior to fight you.

Marcus couldn’t do anything. But he was impressed by your skills. He sighed with joy everytime you slipped from Calista’s touch. Even your father was displaying a face of proud.

But it’s not the same for you. You enter in panic, knowing you are at full mercy, almost dropping your spare. Your father is about to stop the encounter. The crowd is impossibly louder. You want to throw up. The sweat mixed with nausea, the cold air of the night, and the dryness in your throat are too much to handle. But you refuse to lose. With the sharp edge of the spare, you cut Calista’s calf. She’s startled, ready to strike back when your leg pushes her on her back. The heavy sword she carries makes a loud noise. Her skull crushes against the floor. It gives you enough time to stand, place your foot in her throat and point the spare against her forehead, ending the encounter.

The cheers are disgustingly excessive. But you’re done. You did what your father asked. You take off the mask and look at your brother in anger. Geta offers you a fake smile. He was surprised to see you were able to slip away, from his evil plans, from defying your father.

You offer your hand to Calista, but she refuses. She looks like she wants to kill you. But she only reverences your family and leaves.

Everything is forgotten when you set your eyes on Marcus. You want to smile and run to his side. He sees you with adoration. He sees the reincarnation of Psyche in you. A woman who Marcus swears it’s even more graceful than Venus and Persephone themselves.

Marcus Acaius makes a decision; He must marry you.

…

After a banquet, your bones and muscles ache with each movement you make, but you run towards Marcus. You need to see him after such a long day. He waits for you in the secure spot of the farthest tower. His light robes and leaf crown are securely dressing him when you spot him. The gold in his attire matches your bronze bracelets and indigo dress.

He’s the man you desire. He’s the man that had offered you a real demonstration of affection. He wasn’t trying to manhandle you like everyone before did. It’s more than enough to make you think your prayers to Venus have worked. You collide in his chest, giggling.

“I love you”

Both of you say at the same time. It leaves you shocked. Marcus smiles and you have to kiss him to believe it’s real.

“I promise you… we’ll be together” you nod dying out of happiness. He kisses you back and you feel you want to cry out of happiness.

What feels like a second was an hour of kissing.

And Geta was able to witness some of that time. Drowning in a monstrous wave of jealousy, he ran towards the Emperor to accuse you of adultery. But it was too late, your father was out of the city for the rest of the day. Geta is beyond enraged with the news. So he sends part of his father’s cabinet to a brothel, hoping his evil plan would work.

Later, when he finds you going towards the garden, he fastens his pace to harshly grab your forearms and stop you.

“That General is no good for you.” He spits with disgust as you squirm away from his touch.

“Neither are you” you fireback, stepping backwards.

“Go find him. You should know he just uses you to have our father’s approval. So I insist you, go find him and see what kind of man he is after you leave his bed” You raise your hand ready to slap him, but you don’t. You simply turn away and keep walking.

Geta’s words echo through your mind. You question him, valuing the honesty of his words. Marcus was a man after all. There wasn’t a perfect man nor a perfect woman, but you liked to believe there was still good in the hearts of the people.

Perhaps Marcus would be disappointed by your mistrust. But the uncertainty of his loyalty was something you couldn’t risk.

That night, you go out in a linen cloak, hunting the man you love. The guards won’t know you went out prowling around the city.

It’s late, but not for the city. Although is not crowded, there are a lot of people in the market. You let yourself wander across the place. There’s handmade stuff that women and kids sell. It makes you think about power and how not all of the people had it. If you ever became Empress, you wanted to see a prosperous and bright city. You want to ensure them with security and peace. You want to get rid of eccentric stuff, including gladiators.

The sound of music along with laughter draws your attention to a specific place. At first glance, you think it’s a tavern. But as your feet made it to the entrance, you gasped in shock. There are more men compared to women. The females are scattered around the place. Some feed grapes to men. Others dance and use their bodies to charm. All of them have their chests bare, showing their breasts and silver bracelets. It shocks you to see some of the females naked, kissing between groups of four or more and almost fucking them at the sight of everyone. The wine smells cheap, the whole place smells like sweat and sex combined.

You see from afar a large table of men. Your eyes look at the head of the table and it causes a great mix of confusion and intrigue. Because it’s your Marcus who’s seated with those men. He talks and looks seriously intimidating with his sword resting on the table. Your heart starts racing as a woman gets closer. She raises her hand to touch him. Marcus turns to look at the woman. She has short blonde hair, pale skin, and purple fabric that barely covers her body. Your eyes water at the sight. Your lover, who promised find the way to be with you hours ago is there, surrounded by naked women and you can hear him cursing. When the blonde woman is about to sit in his lap, you leave the place running away. There’s not even time to tear yet, you are completely covered in shock and disgust.

Soon you are back. You gasp for air, opening the doors of the place you call home. Two guards let you enter and you throw your cloak to the floor. When you look at the end of the long hallway, you spot Geta talking with his counselor. At the sigh of you, he indicates the man to leave. You want to leave him behind so bad, you avoid his eyes but it’s his voice that stops you.

“I told you so…” he says with an evil smile.

“Be quiet…” his laugh is loud and it angers you more.

“He doesn’t care about you. Acaius only cares for power. He could never love you-“

“SILENCE!”

You push him towards the granite bench behind and he is taken aback.

Even more when you lean to smash your lips with his.

It’s disgusting. There’s no care, only two individuals fighting for control in the lips of each other. Even the beetroot juice you applied hours ago has transferred to your chin and Geta’s. His hand is resting with pressure on your nape, and you slightly pull his hair, making him groan before kissing you even harder.

Just when you are about to sit in his lap, you stop. You look at him in horror. There’s no way you just kissed him. That you almost succumbed to his touch. But you remember Marcus with that woman. What were you doing?

Geta sees you quietly crying before standing up from the bench and watching you bolt.

You run to the meadows. The place where everything began. And at that moment, you realized you had completely failed.

Fighting in that encounter with Calista for what? Unnecessary approval of men who would surely die before you birthed your first child.

You pleased your father to live in peace for what? To carry the weight of a narcissistic brother and a traitor lover.

Your prayers were in vain. The love you wanted to find was over before it even started. Because it wasn’t real. You should’ve stayed back in Egypt. Maybe you should have married Geta on the first day. At least whatever he did to hurt you would have a payback. But with Marcus, it resulted in an excruciating pain that you had never felt before. Which makes you feel so ignorant and brainless. All that ego your mother had helped you build collapsed at that moment. You just wished for a remedy. Which for sure didn’t exist. But there must be a way, to make everyone feel at least a drop of what you have.

—————————————————————

part two or what? (Literally didn’t add the part I wrote for the sneak peak lol)

taglist: @drewharrisonwriter @my-dearest-agent @yellowheartz @spookyxsam @natasharomanoffsmotorcycle @uncassettodiricordi @kluvspedritooo @littleblackcatinwonderland

[futureplayboibunnie]

Heartless Pt.1

Mafia Boss! Miguel O’Hara x fem! reader

You and Miguel are married to each other…and it wasn’t because of love.

okay i’ve redirected this fic and made it into a slowburn multi chapter series, in hindsight my last idea was too abrupt. i feel like this storyline is wayyyy better. I LOVEEEE SLOWBURN. i hope ya’ll like this one better! Part 2 up now!

PS. if you don’t like this type of stuff, don’t be stupid and comment on it because I really don’t care enough to hear it, use ur fingers and scroll. it’s not that hard.

You thought your wedding day would've been more romantic than this.

More personal, more involved, a consolidation of the many moments you shared with the man you were going to love forever, but free will and liberation were something that you gave up when your parents decided that it was in your family's entrepreneurial interest to participate in a partnership with the O'Hara Dynasty.

You weren't mad. It was just...different. You knew this day was coming but it was all wrapped together quite nicely, in a neat little bow.

Everything was done with the utmost sensitivity and respect, the O'Hara family's Consigliere placed piles of paperwork in front of you, NDAs were rarely ever necessary, and guns and fists normally did the trick but Miguel personally wanted all of this to be clean. He was getting married for the sole purpose of extending his power and influence, being a part of the 5 Families in this city wasn't something that was done without shedding blood. And Miguel shed a lot. This was a very important occasion to him, marriage was important in all generations of his family, and almost every single Don arranged a marriage with a woman from another Dynasty just for the purpose of spreading influence and agendas. Miguel and his brother talked for hours about it and in the end, he had to do what was necessary for his family and his capos. He needed to conserve what was his whilst also inserting his power.

Dealing with ill-tempered men and being a sounding board for their last scraps of sanity wasn't new but Miguel wasn't that. He was just silent in a way you didn't like. It was almost unsettling. Maybe it would be easier to hate him if he was an asshole, but he was very kind and respectful in the little words he said to you.

All of this was strictly professional, a beautiful show for the underworld. It was ridiculous and you felt like a fool, and after the day you had, it felt perfectly reasonable to feel that way.

It was your wedding day and word got around fast.

The dress he picked was fine.

The ceremony was fine

The ring was fine

Everything was just fine.

Now you were in his cold, lavishly destitute penthouse at an ungodly hour, sitting around, still in the wedding dress that you haven't taken off for some reason- maybe to compensate for the fact that you'll throw it in a corner, leave it in the cold and black dark, collecting dust for you to never see it again. Miguel's capos had to scamper around and follow you just about anywhere but for once, they left you alone with Miguel shooing them out.

Is this what your life would be like? Sitting around, waiting for something to happen? Was everything meant to be so banal and grey?

“You looked lovely today.” A low voice grumbled behind you, you whipped your head around to see Miguel leaving his study and entering the living room, he was still wearing his tux with that unknotted ugly bow tie that was crooked the whole ceremony. He looked tired. You gave him an agreeable smile in response.

"Thank you.” You said politely, there was just nothing purposeful behind your voice. All there was between you and Miguel was agreeable conversation, polite and meaningless drivel to distract from the very true and real fact that you were betrothed, you both owed each other something. Miguel gave you protection and you gave Miguel his pathway to influence- it was a business transaction, that was all, but it didn't mean that all of this wasn't abnormal. “I can't reach the zipper, can you please zip me down?” You asked as if it was a normal question- it wasn't for your kind of relationship but what the hell was normal nowadays? For Christ's sake, you were married to a man you barely knew and you slept in different rooms.

Miguel approached you in silence, watching you stand up from the couch and turn around. He liked the dress, he picked it out himself, you looked nice. His fingers found the zipper and pulled down slowly, watching the slivers of skin appear with every small tug down.

As far as women go, Miguel wasn't really that interested in sleeping around, every woman he shared himself with became a target or an opportunity pry into his head- he didn't want anyone messing with his internal affairs. Sometimes he'd cave and fuck one of the women serving him drinks at private poker nights, they always made eyes at him, begging him with fluttering eyelashes and wet lips to fuck them senseless. He was a man after all, sometimes it was enjoyable, sometimes it wasn't, he just needed to get off.

You on the other hand, you were unreadable in a way that he didn’t know how to approach.Though sometimes he did find you talking to him like an acquaintance vaguely irritating he would definitely be a hypocrite for calling you out.

It felt like you were holding your breath when he was finished, you settled baxk into your senses, he gazed over the patch of skin peeking out of your dress. He stopped his gawking when you turned around and gave him a weak smile like you would a friend or a neighbour. "Thank you. Goodnight Miguel.” You walked passed him and went to your designated room. Miguel did the same

You never really thought of yourself as an incurable romantic, but this was truly dull and you contemporary marriage like this. Even if it was to one of the most dangerous men in the city.

-

You awoke to a cacophony of sizzling and rustling noises coming from outside your room, your dreary eyes lulled by sleep couldn't fight against the delicious smell wafting from outside. Before you could fully register that breakfast was being made, the first thing you noticed was the heavy feeling of dread resting on your chest, you raked a tired hand over your face and rubbed your eyes awake. Opening them up fully, you saw the white fabric on the floor. In another life, the husband you actually loved would be laying next to you, whispering sweet nothings. Your wedding dress and veil were strewn about as if it was an article of clothing a teenage girl would carelessly discard while figuring out what to wear for a date with Tommy or Billy or Jason or whoever. But this wasn't high school drama, this was the type of life you were conditioned into.

Blood, war, and money.

You weren't complaining, the protection it offered you was immense. Miguel was a corrupt man dealing with equally corrupt politicians and people of interest, he had to adapt in his work but a part of you didn't believe he was the poisonous person everyone always made him out to be. Maybe it was because you hadn't seen him in his raw, primal ways, beating people bloody. That's what made you weary.

You shifted up and headed over to the walk-in wardrobe. This was the part that really stunted you, Miguel wanted you to wear what he specifically liked, everything was picked out by him and you still didn't know how to feel about it, but it made you grimace. You stepped in and glanced at the hangers, they were all ordered out by color and style. You noticed that he seemed to like satin and silk, and he was very particular about color, he liked black, silver, grey and even a baby blushed pink in certain articles. Your fingers grazed over the silk of the nightwear dresses, and the fabric of the gala dresses- you didn't like the idea of having to play pretend in front of too many people. You idled towards the drawers and wondered what he preferred when it came to underwear. You raised a cynical eyebrow and your lips pursed in curiosity as you let your finger pull it open.

Your mouth unhinged in a surprise you expected, but not in the way you thought of. He definitely had a thing for lingerie. God, there was a pair of everything, lacy, strappy, padded, unpadded, sheer garters, sparkly garters, knee highs, thigh highs. He was very particular indeed. It was tailored to your perfect cup size. Fucking hell. He liked Brazilian underwear but he seemed have an affinity for a thong too. You sighed and closed the drawer, you didn't want to read into it. Your eyes wandered to the muted pink silk robe hanging next to the drawer. Hm. That'll do for breakfast.

Miguel looked up from his newspaper to see you padding barefoot to the table where a spread was laid out. His maid, although young, ditzy and so obviously desperate to fuck him, was a very talented cook but the coffee she made always tasted like dirt. “Thank you.” He said to her plainly, he couldn't even look at her due to him being distracted by your presence. Your face creased into a light frown as you stared at the eye candy handing Miguel his coffee before she left as Miguel waved his hand. Of course the women who worked around him had to be insanely beautiful.

“Good morning.” Miguel grumbled before taking a sip. You were wearing the silk robe he liked. Good. Good girl.

You didn't say anything back, acting aloof and nonchalant seemed to be the only way of conserving whatever sanity you had left. The back of your throat had back drool when you stared at the delicious spread in front of you. You didn't know what you wanted to eat first. You grabbed a few pickings of everything, topped off with a mimosa. You ate in polite silence, minding your business, uninterested in anything he had to say at this point. Miguel settled down his newspaper and glared at you, you weren't particularly bothered by his presence, and that made him...unsettled. It went on like this for a solid few minutes.

“What?” You asked him, not even giving him the decency of looking him in the eye. Miguel was silent for a moment, contemplating your presence before he opened his mouth.

“We're leaving the city tonight.” He said oh so casually in that deep, low voice of his.

"And why is that?”You sighed tiredly, a slightly amused smirk twitched at your lips at this out-of-the-blue statement.

Miguel clicked his tongue and cooed at you, “Because cariño, my Consigliere has informed me that our marriage is not boding well with the other 5 Families, they think it's a covert attack in some sort of way, a questioning of power or sorts. And also..” He cut himself off for a reason unknown to him. “He also thinks it's a prudent idea to have a honeymoon, to hone everything in and make this...real.” He murmured as he rolled up his shirt sleeve.

Your eyes pricked up at the word 'real.' Wasn't this real? The papers were real. The ring was real. But the actual connection…? You glowered at him, your eyes narrowed.

“Do you think this is real?”

Miguel didn't know how to answer that. “Isn't real relative?”

“No.” You replied thickly like you didn't even need to think about it.

“Look. I don't want to discuss this.”

“So you can't compromise.” You shot back.

“No, I won't.” He pushed his chair back aggressively and sat his coffee down hard, he looked irritated by all of this. He didn't like that you thought you had the power to interrogate him.

Miguel walked past you as he went to exit the room but then for some reason he halted in his tracks. Compromise. Miguel is not known for compromising. The people around him know that for a fact, but he doesn't want this marriage to be another agenda that he has to put up with. He didn't want to hate you.

He sighed.

“Choose where we go. Tell my brother and he'll tell my pilot.” Miguel said coldly, his tone clipped and gruff even when he was trying to build a bridge of some sort.

It didn't seem like you had a choice, so now you were just another lackey he ordered around.

[wileys-russo]

love is blind II l.williamson x reader

based around this request here but changed it up a little! love is blind II l.williamson x reader

entering the stadium and making your way down court side your eyes lit up in wonder, raking the thousands of cheering fans clad in their favorite teams colors, chatter bouncing off the walls backed by the upbeat pump of the music in the background as both teams warmed up for the game.

you'd been in new york working for six months now, subletting a room from one of your childhood pen pals which had somehow stood the tests of time, a unique friendship you treasured dearly even if she was an absolute hurricane on her best days.

working as a freelance photographer had lead you to live a colorful life to say the least. you'd been travelling the world from the moment you'd decided to drop out of your rational business degree, deciding much to your parents worry that sort of career just wasn't for you.

but though you'd hopped from one city to the next you'd never really existed in one place long enough to set down solid roots as a large part of your heart always remained back home with your loved ones.

photography far from the most steady income flow it would be an understatement to say at times your situation had been stretched, and you'd learned to become quite the adaptable and creative chef when living from dollar to dollar in some remote corners of the worlds.

but new york had been providing job after job, an endless list of up and coming talents forever wanting headshots, subbing in last minutes as an assitant on shoots for the experience and even shooting for a few magazines along the way had kept you here longer than intended.

but as you grew older and your family expanded, a whole horde of nieces and nephews you hardly saw compiling back home, you found your heart for once longing to settle, to find a reason to set down some roots and maybe a full time job to go with it.

but for now your brother had somehow swung you these courtside tickets for you and your roommate, though with a raging hangover she'd refused to leave the bed, only returning home around nine this morning in a different dress she'd left home in and without shoes you'd known from that very moment you'd likely be venturing to the game tonight alone.

but well traveled on your own that wasn't anything that scared you, you were anyone but someone who dismissed a new experience even if it was a solo one.

which is exactly how you found yourself subtly counting the seats as you made your way down the very front row, making a mental note to smack your brother the next time you saw him for how much he'd likely splashed on these seats which were an early birthday present.

finally finding your seat you were surprised to find it already occupied, a blonde head of hair in jorts and a white button up lazing about comfortably with a drink in her hand.

even without speaking a word you could sense the strong personality oozing from her, loud laughter echoing about as she conversed with a couple of men in the row behind her, an aura of confidence hanging in the air which had your stomach twisting at needing to interrupt her.

"hi i'm so sorry but i think you're in my seat." leah glanced up at the new voice breaking away from her conversation she was previously occupied in, breath catching at the eyes she found herself looking up into.

"i'm 7a, sorry." you winced showing her your ticket on your phone, never having been one for confrontation but the court side seats had been a gift and if the sender didn't see you utilizing them on the tv you'd be getting your ear chewed off without a doubt.

"oh shit no i'm sorry! i didn't even think to check the number i just sat down in the right row." leah apologized sincerely glancing around for jason who had her ticket and lanyard still in his pocket, finding him on the other side of the court taking photos with a group of players.

the seat next to her free leah shuffled over one, allowing you to take your seat as you placed your bag under you and crossed one leg over the other.

"i'm leah." the blonde introduced herself with a smile as you settled a little seeing she wasn't upset like you'd feared but rather seeming quite friendly.

introducing yourself you shook her hand with a laugh as she stuck it out toward you. "how very formal of you." you teased, surprisingly at ease with the english woman finding comfort in the familiar accent in the vast sea of americans you'd been swimming in these last few months.

"well you'd know first and foremost how charming the english are. thought you might want a taste of home! which would be..." leah trailed off with a raised eyebrow.

"i was brought up not to share my home address with strangers. weren't you taught about stranger danger as a child!" you smiled playfully as leah turned herself a little more to face you.

"leah williamson. england captain, european champion, newly appointed basketball fan, first time in new york. i have a younger brother, my grandma is my best mate and i kick a ball round for a living. i spoke at the united nations earlier today and i'm drinking away the nerves i said something terrible because i practically blacked out and can't remember anything!" leah held her drink up in a silent cheers, downing the rest of what appeared to be a gin and tonic with a wink.

"go on stranger, your turn." the blonde encouraged with a flick of her hand as you smiled, finally clocking where she looked familiar. you weren't a massive sports fan, which was ironic given your current location, but you'd have to be completely blind not to recognize the captain of the lionesses after their huge euros win.

"freelance photographer and business school drop out, lived in this fine urban jungle in a shoebox for about six months now. sorry to hit your ego miss euros but i've never sat through a single football match without falling asleep! my dog is my best friend and i'm the youngest of six, the final perfect creation one might say." you grinned, leah rolling her eyes playfully.

"a humble one too it would seem. now look! no longer strangers are we? thank god danger averted." the blonde exhaled wiping at her brow in mock relief before bumping her knee into yours with a grin.

as the announcer started to call out the lineups and the crowd erupted in volume leah shuffled just a tiny bit closer and leant in so she could continue to talk to you, basketball now really the last thing on her mind.

by the final buzzer you couldn't care less who'd won or lost having spent almost the entire game chattering away to leah who seemed more than content to fill in the gaps of your sports knowledge, taking any opportunity she could to slip in a teasing remark about your lack thereof.

"well leah it was lovely to spend some time with such a charming brit! even if you are from milton keynes." you sent leah a dazzling smile and a wink which flipped her stomach, the blonde waving off jason who tried to capture her attention on her other side.

"you may not share my bursting pride and joy for the greatest place on gods green earth but without my ongoing commentary and extensive sports knowledge i'm sure you'd have been bored out of your mind. and now you can tell your brother you sat court side and share his appreciation of this fine game!" leah grinned back, fingers drumming against the lip of her cup.

"mm and imagine his shock when i tell him it was all thanks to an arsenal player, i'll be disowned mind you!" you smacked her knee with a roll of her eyes only causing her grin to widen.

"god i almost forgot you come from a chelsea loving family, disgraceful behaviour that mate." leah grimaced with visible disgust, covering her mouth as she spoke the c word making you laugh and smack her knee again, your hand lingering there for a moment.

as you pulled away leah found herself missing the touch, trying to shake herself out of it and putting it down to the alcohol buzzing through her head.

"i should really get going i'm meeting someone for dinner, but it was lovely sitting and speaking with you." you started sincerely, standing to your feet as leah did the same.

"me too, it was a pleasure to provide you with an in depth basketball crash course." leah joked as you laughed, the sound sending a strange feeling coursing through her stomach.

"i really would have been bored out of my mind without you here, enjoy the rest of your trip. i'll be sure to look out for your UN speech online i'm sure you smashed it!" leahs cheek flushed pink as you leant in and pressed a soft kiss to it, sending her a kind smile and before she could utter another single syllable you were gone.

~

"beth! i am telling you she's a no show. i've waited here for thirty minutes man i'm not wasting the rest of my night!" leah huffed, whisper yelling down the phone to her supposed expert match making friend, slumping down further in her seat.

meanwhile on the opposite side of the restaurant your eyebrows furrowed as you sent your tinder date yet another message which was left on delivered, rolling your eyes and locking your phone with a defeated huff.

"yeah? well your friends name must be casper." leah rolled her eyes unimpressed with beths attempts to make excuse for the mystery woman she'd insisted on setting leah up with, an old family friend who'd lived in new york the last few years who leah just had to meet.

"christ beth i know thats not her name for fuck sakes. i meant because it would appear she's a ghost you numpty!" leah groaned, flashing an apologetic smile toward the couple the table over who gave her an odd look.

"no she's a no show of course just my luck. are you still up for a drink? i can meet you literally anywhere that isn't here. see i told you tinder wasn't for me!" you sighed over the phone, abandoning your half finished drink and grabbing your bag off the counter.

"no i am not going to give it a few more minutes mccabe. now beth call your mate and tell her to lose my number, i told the two of you a blind date was an awful idea but did you listen? no!" leah sternly told off the women on the other end of the phone before hanging up with a frustrated huff and declining the incoming call which followed.

standing from her chair the defender sent the waitress an awkward smile who'd been sending her pitiful glances from the moment she sat down alone at the table clearly set for two.

"oh you're already out? yeah send me the address and i'll get a taxi to soho, and i will be deleting tinder on my way over!" you warned, wincing a little as your friend returned inside and you could clearly hear the music blasting in the background of wherever she was.

not having ordered anything bar a drink she'd already paid for leah bypassed the hostess as she made a hurried beeline for the exit. but too focused on not being seen by the prying woman she knew would ask questions, leah didn't watch where she was walking and suddenly her body collided with another as she stepped outside.

"christ! do you not have eyes?" that voice.

leah sat up from her place on the floor as you did the same, angry features softening at the familar face staring back at you guiltily. "i do in fact have eyes, just forget to use them sometimes." leah winced with a sheepish smile as your own lips curled up in amusement.

"i thought athletes were supposed to be coordinated." you mocked as she hurried to her feet and offered you her hands which you took gratefully, the taller girl hauling you up and steadying you as you nearly slipped again.

"whats whitney houstons favorite form of coordination?" leah blurted out randomly as you gave her a curious look. "hand eyee!" leah sung, loudly, proudly and a little off key as you couldn't help but burst out with a surprised laugh, leahs face lighting up at the sound.

"you really are the perfect combination of charming and strange." you teased, the two of you making your way down the steps out front of the restaurant. "well the world would be incredibly dull if everyone was ill mannered and normal now wouldn't it?" leah countered with a wink as you playfully rolled your eyes.

"so your dinner-" "after the game i-"

you both blushed slightly in the crisp autumn evening as you spoke at the same time. "your dinner, that was fast. is this a normal new york dine and dash?" leah smiled, the two of you starting to walk aimlessly down the street.

"well normally when you meet someone for dinner they show up, so more of a dash without the dine!" you admitted with an annoyed huff, phone still clear of any notifications from your so called date.

"if it makes you feel any better you're singin to the choir. normally when you're set up on a blind date the date in question shows up." leah countered with an empathetic smile as you frowned, unable to understand how the tall charming admittedly quite gorgeous blonde in front of you could have possibly been stood up.

it wasn't as if you hadn't noticed her beauty at the game, but you were far too busy being swept up by her witty one liners, passionate commentary, teasing remarks and sharp sense of humor to really focus all too much on the physicality of it all.

but now you were you found yourself rather enamored with and maybe starting to harbor a slightly juvenile crush on the tall footballer walking by your side.

"dates huh? the worst part of being single." you sighed with an understanding shake of your head, leah humming her agreement and jolting as you suddenly stopped in your tracks. "where are we actually going?" you asked with a laugh, realizing the two of you were truly just wandering without a destination.

"how about for a drink? normally when i try to sweep a girl off her feet thats how i'd start to go about it, not actually taking her down off her feet." leah quipped with a charming smile, pearly white teeth flashing at you cheekily.

"well its the least you can do, think i might have uh tore a quad or a hammy maybe on that fall? oh ref! ref! book her for it!" you faked an injury, bending down to grab at your leg as leah withheld the urge to smile and shook her head at you.

"very funny. you know we could get you on the pitch with diving skills like that! not for arsenal though, we frown upon that sort of reckless, illegitimate and downright unprofessional behavior." leah puffed her chest out with a wave of her hand as you shoved her playfully.

"you know i could get you some acting classes as a gift if you'd like? after all we're only a few streets away from broadway. might win the league with some polished poor tackles, grunts of pain and strategic pens." you teased, leah scoffing at your words.

"well firstly i am utterly offended at that. but secretly i'm quite proud you retained that much football lingo in only a couple of hours, by the time i'm done with you you'll be wearing red, chanting my name and screaming north london forever!" leah smirked, stepping closer to you with a twinkle in her eye.

"and by the time i'm done with you football might just be the very last thing on your mind." you quipped back with a flirty smile, the burst of sudden confidence catching leah a little off guard as she tilted her head, looking down at you as you caught her gaze flicker toward your lips which curled up victoriously.

"so, about that drink?" "i think i know a place."

~

"-and you're sure about this? i don't want you to feel rushed baby." you frowned down at your girlfriend, absentmindedly playing with her hair as her head lay in your lap.

"never been more certain my girl. as much as i love having you all to myself with the move back now i'd love to have you finally meet the girls." leah assured, reaching a hand up to squish your cheeks with a soft smile.

it was safe to say that night in new york and the promise of one drink had wound up as many more with leah stumbling into your shoebox of an apartment with your hand over her mouth desperately trying to stiffle the drunken giggles she couldn't seem to hold back as to not wake your roommate.

it didn't work, your roommate leaping out of the shadows with a baseball bat scaring the two of you half to death as leah pushed you behind her and chucked her fists up, barely able to stand on her own feet as she swayed to and fro.

quickly ushering leah to your bedroom you guiltily sent your friend a smile and promised to explain in the morning, the girl sending you a knowing look of amusement and a hum before retreating back to her own bed.

that night you and leah stayed up talking for hours and hours about everything and nothing, your hand consistently smacking over her mouth as she was unable to control the volume of her boisterous laugh, her tongue licking your palm each time making you squeal and slap her before she'd use the moment to steal a kiss with a cheeky grin.

beyond a few lazy drunken kisses not much more happened, leah waking up still a little tipsy only mere hours later with her phone filled with missed calls and a pounding headache.

feeling her stir and shuffle around looking for her phone you'd woken not long afterward, an anxiety that she was going to leave without another word simmering at the surface of your partially conscious state as she slipped out of bed and headed for the bathroom.

disappointment flooded you momentarily before you shook it off best you could, reminding that one night stands were more than normal and just because you weren't accustomed to them didn't mean leah owed you anything more.

but to your surprise she returned quickly having sent the messages she needed to in order to free up her day, sliding back into bed with you with a smile and a tired sigh.

"good morning." the blonde rasped out, voice cracked and clearly struggling as you offered her the bottle of water from your nightstand which she accepted gratefully.

an old t-shirt of yours hanging off of her taller form it amused you the way it almost looked like a crop top with the height difference, a gentle teasing remark about it falling from your lips as leah playfully flicked your nose and laid back down.

her arms wrapping around you was a foreign yet comforting feeling, a sense of safety that was unknown to you encompassing where you both lay beneath the duvet tangled up together, not another word uttered as within a few minutes you felt her grip relax slightly and her breathing even out.

sleeping away most of the day you'd later asked her out to dinner with the promise of helping her refuel the energy you'd stole from her with the two of you talking well into the early morning, leah eagerly agreeing.

parting after dinner with a lengthy kiss you'd exchanged numbers with a sense of uncertainty of where this could go, leah flying back to london the following morning and you with jobs lined up for the following month.

but with both of you clearly curious and seemingly eager, messages turned into calls which grew to facetimes, and suddenly leah was jetting over to visit you for a few days and you were secretly sneaking off to london to see her, hiding from your family the knowledge you were back.

on the third time you'd met up again leah laid it out for you, admitting she wasn't one for a long distance relationship and hadn't expected to fall for you the way she had, but with the two of you rapidly growing feelings which seemed to be reciprocated you agreed to give it a go.

two months down together and you'd made the decision to return permanently back to england. promising leah over and over it wasn't solely for her and you already had some work lined up, as well as informing of the fact your mum was a few days away from putting your face on a milk carton claiming her daughter had been missing in action for far too long.

you'd intended to get your own place but staying with leah for the first couple of weeks while you looked around the two of you fell into a routine. then out for dinner one night the blonde had offered you a key and asked if you'd move in for good, and with her ever dazzling smile reeling you in how could you say no.

the two of you had kept your blossoming relationship quite quiet, really only meeting one anothers immediate family once you were ready and staying wrapped up in your little love bubble the last few weeks.

the honeymoon phase as leahs mum amanda had dubbed it with an amused smile, only seemed to grow as you and leah finally embraced being able to be together in the way you'd both craved from the very first moment she'd asked you to be her girlfriend.

you'd been having the ongoing conversation the last few days about starting to meet one anothers friends, that seeming the next step in your relationship which was what lead to the current conversation.

true to leahs words that very first night you met, she'd had her way and every weekend now had you bundled in her jersey and sat with her family watching her play, chanting along and proudly singing the angel before every match.

you'd obviously met a few of her close friends and teammates before, hardly able to hide the fact you were living together, but not officially as leahs girlfriend and most nights she had her own friends over you'd be out catching up with your own.

"i really want you to come out after the game and meet all the girls as my girl, officially." leah promised, interlacing her fingers with yours and bringing your knuckles to her mouth, kissing softly as you melted like putty in her hands.

"my pretty pretty lovely gorgeous girl." leah pushed herself to sit up, now hovering over you as her lips ghosted yours and she pulled away with a smirk as you chased them for a kiss, pouting when you didn't get your way.

"so needy." leah teased with a smile as you pinched her for the comment and captured her lips in a kiss, sighing happily as her mouth moved against yours perfectly, butterflies erupting and head spinning as it did every time leah was in your immediate vicinity.

"so. you'll come out tonight then?" leah pulled away and asked hopefully, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear and pecking your lips a few times.

"mmm haven't decided yet baby, might need a few more of these to really seal the deal." you stroked your chin thoughtfully before tapping your lips with a smile and a wiggle of your eyebrows making your girlfriend hide a laugh.

"cheeky girl. well baby i guess i can accommodate these heinous demands!" leah sighed dramatically with a roll of her eyes, leaning back in and pressing her lips to yours with a smile.

~

"how are you feeling gorgous?" leah questioned softly as she parked the car, flicking off the engine and glancing toward you sat in the passenger seat. "nervous." you answered honestly as her hand sat on your thigh squeezed gently.

"i understand my love but i promise the girls are so excited to finally meet you, and i've never met someone as easy to get along with as you. they're all gonna love you and i'm gonna have to fight them for your attention all night!" leah pouted making you crack a smile.

"well you know i'm going home with you at the end of the night babe, and we both know once you have a couple drinks you won't be able to keep your hands to yourself anyway." you teased, leaning over the console to bridge the gap and press your lips to hers.

a few more sweet assurances and kisses later and you were walking into the bar where the girls and some of their loved ones were, leah taking your hand once you were inside and leading you down the back to where they all were, having booked it out for some privacy for them all post game.

a symphony of cheers sounding as the pair of you arrived you felt yourself become a little flustered as suddenly you were rushed by a small crowd of girls who leah shooed away.

instead taking you around to everyone one by one and introducing you, her hand never leaving your waist the entire time as her thumb traced gentle circles into your hip.

finally rounding to the final little group, most of whom you'd met in passing once or twice but again never officially as leahs girlfriend like she announced you now, the title still giving you the warm and fuzzies as you were pulled into a few hugs.

leah stopped the introductions for a moment when her eyes fell on an unfamiliar girl, beth quickly taking over and introducing her friend with an unreadable look flashed leahs way.

leah quickly realized why she was unfamiliar, this was beths friend from new york who to be fair beth had been discussing coming to visit her at training for the last few weeks but leah had only half tuned in, mind as always wandering to you most times it wasn't occupied by football.

hearing the name your chest tightened as you were now able to put two and two together, a gentle squeeze of leahs arm around your waist all you needed to settle again.

"i'm really sorry about what happened, i wasn't in the right space for dates but it was a dick move to just ghost you." the girl addressed leah with a wince who waved it off.

"don't be, if you hadn't we'd never have wound up together." leah was surprised to hear you speak up as your arm hugged her torso and you sent the girl a smile, leahs own lips curling into amusement as she pressed a kiss to the side of your head.

"you two are adorable, i'm really glad things worked out an you found one another." the girl spoke sincerely and gave the pair of you a slightly awkward smile before she stepped away.

"sorry." beth winced guiltily at the defender before pulling you into another hug and warning leah she'd be stealing you a little later as your girlfriend pulled your back into her front protectively with a playful glare.

"i think...is that, you're looking a bit green babe? maybe with envy?" leahs hands fell either side of your face as she looked you over and you smacked her chest withholding a smile.

"you know its quite hot when you get a little possessive baby girl." leah gave you a wolfish grin. "well i only take after you my love, jealousy should be your middle name. need i bring up last weekend for example?" you smiled knowingly, fingers tracing her collarbone.

"he was all over you! i had every right." leah scowled instantly at the mention of the incident which had her dragging you away from a party you'd attended together for one of your siblings birthdays, leah spending the entire night afterwards showing you just how much you really were hers, worshiping your body for hours on end in every which way.

"you doin alright though babe?" leah murmured seriously, taking you aside into a more secluded corner as her eyes roamed over your face for any sign of discomfort.

"i'm good. might need a little help with everyones names for the first couple of hours but i'm good i promise, i'm glad we're finally doing this baby. i love you!" you puckered your lips as leah grinned and gave you what you want, echoing those three words back in between.

lost in the feeling of leahs lips on yours you didn't realise you'd gathered an audience, most of the girls watching on happily seeing how loved up the two of you were, others whispering teasing remarks about the blonde and just how smitten she was.

"oi lovebirds! your turn at pool, you can lock lips after we've kicked your asses."

[hauntedwitch04]

I hate you Black

Regulus Black x reader

Words: about 4.1k words

Warnings: some angst, sexy Reggie and some funny times

Author’s note: Hi everybody! It's so good being back, I missed writing and this is the first one-shot I write in a lot of time, so I'm really grateful for every tiny bit of love you gave me. This is my first time writing for the kinktober, hope you enjoy my writing.

P.s. i don't really now how much is hate fuck this fic, but here we are.

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KINKTOBER -.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-. KINKTOBER TAGLIST 2023

DAY 1: Hate fucking

To say that Regulus and I do not get along is an understatement.

We have been part of the same group of friends, namely the Marauders, for years now, since both my brother, James, and his brother, Sirius, are best friends, in fact they often consider each other almost brothers, on the contrary however the two of us have not been able to find common ground and usually always end up insulting each other and playing stupid jokes to irritate the other person.

Since our first year at Hogwarts, we have clashed because of our pride and desire to prove ourselves better than the other, and this challenge has continued outside of school, in everyday life.

This party is no different.

Sirius and Remus wanted to inaugurate the new apartment they decided to get, to live together, after being together for almost a year already, and so they threw a party with all their closest friends, including me and the younger Black.

I don't quite remember how I ended up straddling him with my hands around his neck, but I do remember the reason for that choice. Between his various jokes and yet another spilled glass on my favorite shirt because of his "carelessness," although we all know that if anyone is graceful it is him, the moment he mentioned what is now my ex-boyfriend. Just before coming to the party, in fact, that asshole decided to break up with me, telling me that he never actually felt anything really important for me, and that I was merely a fling that lasted too long and that now he actually already has another girlfriend and I was just in the way. A year and a half. We stayed together a year and a half, and he had to say that and turn away without looking back, or without a bit of shame or guilt, he didn't even apologize to me for shamelessly cheating on me. Part of me didn't even want to come to the party, but I love Siri and Remmy too much to let them down, so I took heart and convinced myself that I would have a good time, but at Regulus' words, "Where's your boyfriend? Is he tired of you too?", I saw no more. Smoke began to come out of my ears, my vision turned black, and inside I felt only a single emotion.

I realize what I was doing only after James detaches me from Regulus, while Sirius grabs his brother, and pulls him away from me.

"Are you totally crazy? You could have killed me!" Says Regulus shocked as he holds a hand to his throat, still struggling to breathe.

"Too bad, it will be for next time then." I answer coldly, to go toward the hall to get my coat, while I quickly apologize to the hosts and say I have to go home, because I don't feel too well. Both James and Sirius, Remus and Lily try to stop me, thinking it's because of guilt, but I really don't want them to see me crying and having to explain later that my ex-boyfriend cheated on me and left me, and now I just feel like a pathetic little girl who can't be loved.

I hurry out of the house and immediately get hit by the cold autumn wind, which envelops me like a hug and shakes my hair, making it go over my face, thus tickling my nose. I smile and start walking toward my house, although it is quite far away, in fact I had come with my brother. I try to contain my emotions, but the tranquility and peace of the city at this hour give me enough security to let my tears flow freely down my cheeks. There is not a living soul to judge me, or so I thought.

I hear footsteps approaching behind me, someone is running toward me, so I turn around and see a breathless Regulus Black standing still, leaning on his knees and signaling to me to wait a second.

I try to wipe away my tears so that he can see that I was crying, but it is too late now, because his expression immediately changes and he seems confused by what he is seeing.

"I don't need your stupid excuses, go back to the others and tell them the bitch is not ready to be insulted by you again." I say trying to distract him as I turn and start walking faster, but a hand grabs my shoulder and makes me turn around.

"Are you crying?" Regulus asks, under his breath, as if even he does not believe the scene before him.

"Has anyone ever told you that you are as sharp as Sherlock Holmes." I say trying to wriggle out of his grip, but he brings his second hand to my face, and wipes away a couple of tears that had reached my chin.

"If it's something I said, I'm sorry, I really am. I didn't want to come and apologize, they forced me, however, I never wanted to make you cry, I was just playing with you." He continues, not caring what I had said. He looks me straight in the eye and I see his sincerity, and I don't know why I start to cry more. He looks at me unsure of what to do, before hugging me. As we are squeezed in that hug I tell him the real reason I was crying and apologize to him for what I had done earlier at the party. As I finish my story, he pulls away from that hold and looks into my eyes again.

"Hey, he's the asshole, not you. And he's also stupid if he didn't see the magnificent person he had beside him." He tells me firmly and sweetly at the same time.

"Says the boy who has been insulting me since we were eleven years old." I reply sarcastically as I stare into his eyes, and I can't lie to myself. I've always thought Regulus is a handsome boy, but damn, right now he looks like a deity come down to earth to teach us what beauty is.

"Hey I may be an asshole, maybe even a little stupid, but it's not like I'm blind." He continues, smiling at me as he looks at my lips. "You know I think I found a more appropriate way to apologize." He whispers as he moves even closer to my lips.

My brain cannot process the moment, everything seems fuzzy. Its scent, fresh mint, coffee and cigarettes, intoxicates me like a drug, and I can't do anything but screw it up to do what my instinct tells me to do.

"Know that it will not be easy to make it up to you for everything you have done to me. You were very, very mean to me." I whisper before kissing him, tired of that game.

I feel like giving my first kiss for the second time. Our lips chase each other, eating each other, needing each other. I feel my hands run through his hair, while his rests on my hips and draws me to him in a death grip.

We continue kissing, and time seems to stop, even the dry leaves seem to stand still in the air, waiting for our future to be drawn, anxious to see our next move.

Eventually we part, to catch our breath, and a faint laugh escapes from my lips.

"Know that I hate you anyway." I tell him and he can't help but chuckle, before taking on a serious look.

"Would you like to come to my house. You know I'd like to apologize for good, and show you that you've had really bad taste in men so far." He says seductively in my ear.

"You have to be careful what you say Black, because it could backfire on you with this sentence." I reply, trying to hide the emotions it is stirring in me.

"No baby, I'm going to show you how a real man should treat you, and not the idiot you used to date." He continues, whispering on my lips, before leaving a light kiss, as light as a butterfly resting gracefully on a flower.

"Know that this does not take away from the fact that I hate you." I reply, still partly in trance after that kiss.

"This just means that I will have to work harder at apologizing." Regulus replies, before stepping back a little, and removing the scarf around his neck, to give it to me. I didn't even notice that I'm shaking, too engrossed in this moment.

"Come on, let's go to my place, it's not too far." Says the boy, putting an arm on my shoulder, thus blocking any possibility of my thinking with his intoxicating scent for the second time this evening. After a few minutes of walking we arrive in front of a dark door, for which young Black quickly pulls out the key to open it.

Once inside the house, I am amazed at how the entire apartment is furnished. Dark furniture stands out against the green and white walls. Soft lights illuminate the rooms, giving it a cozy atmosphere. Every item is meticulously placed in a studied spot, everything is perfect, every note played with the right pitch to create a wonderful harmony.

I am lost in looking around the room when I feel a pair of hands drawing me toward them.

One hand gently removes my scarf, while another turns me around. In Regulus' eyes I see pure pleasure, and this only creates an unpleasant wet feeling in my panties.... We look at each other for a second before pouncing on each other like hungry prey, moving slowly down the stairs and into the bedroom. He pulls me back until I touch the bed with my knees, then drops me down, pulling away from the kiss. I look at him and see his lips red and swollen as he struggles to catch his breath. His hair is messy from my fingers, yet he has never looked more beautiful to me than in this moment. I watch him slowly approach the button of my jeans like a fierce lion studying its prey, and then with a precise and quick gesture, unbutton my pants. In the blink of an eye these lie on the floor, tossed from some indefinite part of the room. The only thing now separating him from his goal is my underwear, but before he can take the next step, I gently place a foot on his chest and look seductively at him.

"Hold your horses Black, if you want to play with me you have to do it right. One garment each at a time, I lost my pants, now you have to take something off." I say looking at him carefully, and he chuckles at my words.

"You can be really obnoxious Potter, you know that?" He asks wryly as he removes his sweatshirt, revealing his bare chest, since he has no shirt underneath. For a moment I am breathless at that ethereal sight. Her white skin glows in the moonlight entering the room. His physique is muscular but not overly so, I can tell he works out a lot and holds himself, but it's also not excessive. I get flashbacks of seeing him practicing Quidditch at Hogwarts shirtless with sweaty hair in the wind, and immediately I find myself having to make the physical effort to not cum in that same instant.

"I try my best." I respond seductively as I watch him lower himself, going on his knees, getting to be at the same level as my pussy.

"Now if you don't mind, I have a promise to keep: to prove that your asshole ex is nothing compared to me." He says before pouncing on me as if I were a feast. I don't have time to respond because he immediately starts kissing my inner thigh, both from the right and the left until he reaches his booty. Slowly, with his teeth, he grabs my panties, leaving a few wet kisses on my skin and making me shiver, and slowly he slides them all the way down my legs.

It is the most terrible, nerve-wracking, and sexy torture I have ever had to endure.

"I thought you were supposed to make it up to me Black, not make me madder." I say in a voice little louder than a sigh as I feel his hot breath on the center of my pleasure.

"Oh baby, I still have to start apologizing, and get ready because I want to do it right." He says, as he caresses the most intimate part of me with his lips. A second later, pure pleasure invades my every sense as he begins to kiss the lips of my pussy. I feel his tongue caressing me, as my hands wriggle in his hair, drawing him ever closer to the center of my pleasure, and with my eyes around his name like a song, between moans and expletives. I hear him smile at my reaction, and just as I was about to respond rudely to him, he increases my torture by adding a finger, taking it in and out of my opening. A few minutes thus pass, me hovering on the edge of pleasure, just as he looks up and shifts slightly. His mouth is completely wet from my pleasure, while I curse for the missed orgasm.

"You'd better finish what you started Black, because I swear that on the contrary you can distantly forget any chance of me being more generous to you." I say, trying to catch my breath.

"I was just catching my breath for the grand finale." He replies with a small smile, seeing my desperation.

"Go fuck yourself."

"I think that's what we're doing baby. What, I'm too good and you're not used to feeling so much pleasure?" He says smiling again as again, he turns me around kissing my entire thigh.

"By Merlin, how I hate you Black." I gasp, between groans.

"Try to convince yourself of this all you want honey, but we both know that right now your orgasms depend on me." And with that he begins his feast again, with more eagerness, and again, in a few minutes I am again on the brink of absolute pleasure, but this time I manage to go further, and for a moment I feel like I can touch the sky with my finger. I feel the blankets tighten between my fingers as I moan his name, almost screaming it, as if I want the world to know who was responsible for so much pleasure.

A few seconds pass, as I try to regain possession of my body and mind, before he speaks again.

"Fuck, that was the sexiest thing I've ever seen." He says giggling, before starting to kiss my body again, slowly, savoring every inch. He pulls off my shirt, as I now recovered from all that unexpected pleasure, taking off my bra. I see him staring at my breasts, before teasing my nipples, one with his tongue and one with his fingers. He bites, sucking my breasts, leaving signs of his passage as I try not to lose myself again in that spiral of pleasure.

"Damn, you don't know how long I've wanted to touch them, taste them, mark them as my own." He says in a gasp, before switching nipples and moving on to the other. Meanwhile then I try to distract him by opening his pants, but as soon as I try to touch his dick, he stops and moves my hand away, looking me straight in the eye.

"Tonight is just for you, not for me, now let me continue and make you feel like the goddess you are." At her words I can't help but hold back a sigh of pleasure.

"Now I understand why everyone was falling at your feet in school, you really have a gift for talking to girls." I say, as I feel his lips go up my neck, leaving me biting and hickeys as he passes.

"Too bad the one girl I really wanted did nothing but blow me off and tell me she hated me." She tells me, before kissing me passionately. Somehow I can still taste myself on his lips, or rather in his mouth, as we explore every nook and cranny of it with our tongues.

"Maybe he was telling you that he hated you, because all he could do was wish to fuck you in the broom closet." I answer between kisses as I hear him take off his underpants and pull down his underwear.

For the first time I realize perhaps truly the situation I am in. Our naked bodies, rubbing against each other, dancing a love dance of their own, as we struggle against each other to win.

He chuckles at my words as he moves to kiss me along my arm, while using his hand to reach over to the nightstand to grab a condom and put it on as he counters.

"And I would rather tell you that I hated you than confess that every night I dreamed of fucking you against a wall." He pauses for a moment, and smiles at me before continuing, with that obnoxious grin of his. "Although I would have said you were more of a quickie in the bathroom type."

"It happened only once, and with a Ravenclaw prick who had already done half my year, while I was half-drunk at a party, after watching you stick your tongue half a foot down the throat of a Hufflepuff slut." I confess by looking into his eyes, and I notice that amidst the pleasure now also shines a spark of astonishment. "Now get a move on, though, Black, for now you're all talk and no action." I continue, with an amused little smile.

"Merlin, if you say one more word, I swear I'll plug your mouth with your panties." He says, taking his dick in his hand, aligning it with my entrance.

"Oh you just have to try, assh- Oh my god!" I try to respond, but he blocks me by entering me overbearingly, immediately I feel my body almost leave the earthly world for pleasure. His dick is bigger than I would have expected, and certainly bigger than my ex's. Immediately he seems to touch all the places that give me the most pleasure, and my mind cannot process a concrete thought.

"I hate you Black." This is the only thing I can say as he is still still inside me, making me get used to his size. "I don't think I can do without your dick from now on, and this is all your fault." I continue as he tries to move slowly, in and out of me, as he murmurs a few dirty words under his breath.

"Oh you are adorable baby." He says before kissing my neck again as he increases the force and speed of his thrusts. "But if you really think I would let you go after this time you are crazy. I hate you too you know, I hate the fact that I am now addicted to this tight, hot, wet pussy of yours. Fuck I think I've found heaven." He gasps near my ear. We continue this dance like this, until a few minutes later, we are almost at the height of pleasure.

"Please Reg, don't stop. I'm cumming:" I plead with him, before stifling my continued moans of pleasure, leaving kisses, bites and hickeys on his neck as my hands scratch his muscular back. I feel him stiffen at my touch.

"Me too baby." He gasps, then increases the speed. A few thrusts, and we both reach orgasm.

We remain still for a moment, enjoying that feeling of pleasure and the warmth of the closeness of our bodies. We don't say a word, let silence fill the space between us, before we kiss again.

This time the kiss is different, not passionate and oozing sex like the others, it is more gentle and sweet, as if through that contact we want to express all those repressed feelings kept inside us all these years and that we cannot describe in words.

He moves from on top of me and lies on his side, while still keeping his arms around my waist. I slowly feel fatigue take possession of me as he gets out of bed to head for the bathroom and get a towel with which my private parts, now too sensitive, in fact a shiver runs down my spine and he seeing it apologizes to me.

When he is finished he lies down again beside me and hugs me, making me feel warm and safe. Just before I fall asleep I look into his eyes and manage to say something.

"You're on the right path to forgiveness, but maybe you need to try a little harder." And he can't help but laugh at those words. "I don't hate you that much anyway, I guess." I continue, as I snuggle against his chest.

"Fortunately." He replies. "Because I don't hate you at all, maybe just the opposite I dare say. "

The next morning I wake up after him. Regulus is already out of bed. He is wearing a pair of sweatpants, and he is shirtless. I can tell right away that he has just gotten out of the shower because I can see his wet hair, however, I can hear him talking to someone on the phone. Feeling my eyes on him he turns and sees that I am awake, and he smiles at me.

"Yes Sirius, I promise I didn't say anything stupid." He says with a bored look on his face as he watches me sit up in bed, my hair still tousled from sleep.

"I apologized, very deeply last night, but I may have to do it one more time to make sure you understand what I meant." She continues to talk to her brother as she gives me a wink and immediately I feel my cheeks go hot from what she said.

"Yes, yes. I love you too. Bye Siri, see you later." He greets his brother as he turns around and then sets the phone down on one of the pieces of furniture next to him, and there I realize all the marks I left on him last night. In the night we then woke up and made love a couple more times. Just thinking about it I feel my pussy getting all wet, even just remembering all that happened.

"I was going to make you breakfast before you woke up but since you are already awake I would suggest you take a shower while I make you breakfast. Is that okay with you?" He asks me, and I can't find my voice to answer him, so I smile and nod. He smiles back, leaving me a kiss on my forehead and then goes downstairs to cook.

I stay in bed for a second and letting out a sigh I realize perhaps for the first time that I hated Regulus Black so much, that I ended up falling in love with him, since the line is so thin that for a long time you can think you are hovering between the two, and only when you land do you realize that you slipped into one of the two worlds long before.

BONUS

Remus watches Sirius talk to his brother on the phone as he asks him if he finally apologized to little Potter. Once the call is over Sirius puts the phone down and looks at his boyfriend.

"They fucked." Remus says, before sipping coffee from his favorite mug.

"They got laid." Sirius confirms, laughing, while Lily, who had stayed over with her boyfriend James, sighs with relief.

"Finally, the situation was becoming unbearable. By now all you could do every time was expect them to jump at each other's throats with a knife or fuck in the guest bathroom." Lily says as she looks at James, who has a horrified look on his face.

"Hey, we're still talking about my little sister!" He says, looking at his friends and his girlfriend.

"Look at it this way, at least now we're really brothers." Try proposing Sirius.

"And probably uncles, too." Remus and Lily say in unison.

No one can hold back a laugh seeing James' horrified face.

TAGLIST (Kinktober special)

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[marthawrites]

"don't shut me out. please"

I hope it is not too late for me to join the celebration ☺️ Congratulations! 💕👏🏼

Thank you sooososo much! You are such a gem and I appreciate all of your fandom love more than you know! I did my best to include a (one shot appropriate) slow burn, angst, and a happy ending. I hope you enjoy this ride MWAH!

Summer's End, Autumn's Beginning

Modern Aemond Targaryen x fem reader

Word Count: 6.3k+

About: A chance encounter with Aemond leads to a whirlwind of emotions. Over the next few months you both fail, in yourselves and in the relationship, and learn from the mistakes.

Includes: Chance encounter, age difference (references to Aemond x Alys) mentions of cheating, allusions to cheating, angst, second chance romance, and smut featuring vaginal fingering, possessive sex, and unprotected protected vaginal sex

Note: Hello lovely reader! This is the longest piece I've wrote in quite awhile - whew! I also feel like it's one of the more ambitious one-shot fics I've worked on/completed. Reader is non-descript. As always, please, enjoy!

read part 2 Between the Covers here

-

I.

There were two things tied for number one on your five-year goal list.

First, be out of your city apartment (preferably as a home owner and not a renter)

Second, have a dog. 

They went hand in hand. One couldn’t happen without the other. So, it was a hard tie and you weren’t willing to budge on either. Until then, to take the edge off your self-proclaimed animal loneliness, you volunteered at a local shelter two nights a week. Mondays and Wednesdays.

While your day job wasn’t a doctor, lawyer, or professional athlete – ones that your family pushed you to have while growing up – it still paid decently and had the potential for career advancement. And! You were able to live on your own. Not having a roommate was worth the dry job description. Besides, your boss was fair and most of your co-workers were friendly; a win win, really.

Tonight, Monday, you finished your shift, went home to change, then headed out to the shelter. Even though it was all volunteer hours you valued punctuality and did your best to get there around the same time each night.

“Hey! You made it!” Arryk called out to you when you stepped inside the building. Chaos sparked all around. He did a great job running and maintaining the schedule, and with the help of volunteers alongside regular staff, it was, more often than not, smooth sailing. Tonight, however, it appeared quite the opposite.

“Hey! Yeah, a few minutes later than usual, sorry!” You said as you walked over to him.

He waved a hand brushing off your apology. “No worries. We had a few people call in today. So, since being short staffed we’re definitely running behind. I know you normally help bathe the dogs with Baela tonight, but can I ask you to do something else instead?” He winced slightly with his question, unsure of your answer. He knew how much you loved Baela and cleaning the dogs!

You squinted at him suspiciously. “Why are you looking at me like that?” You asked, crossing your arms. “You know I won’t administer shots. If I could get over my fear of needles I’d be a veterinarian and not an office worker like I am!” You scrunched your brows before one, all on its own accord, arched up dubiously.

“Ha!” He laughed. “No no no, I know. We have six dogs that need walking tonight. And I don’t think Targaryen can handle all of ‘em.”

“Helaena? She’s back?” You asked, eyes bright with surprise.

“She’s still away for that college trip. It’s her younger brother, Aemond. Have you met him before?”

You’d heard Helaena talk about him, of course, but you’d never met him. Shaking your head, you peered around the shelter looking for anyone else with the Targaryen tell-tale silver-blonde hair. No one caught your eye. “I haven’t. But, I don’t mind.”

“You are a lifesaver!” He praised. “He’s down the west hall getting them ready. Depending on how long you're here afterward, there might be another couple who could use a second walk. Terriers. You know how they are.”

“Happy to help, Arryk!” He was a good guy. You’d always liked him.

“Aemond’s tall, towheaded as the rest of his family, and has an eyepatch. You can’t miss him.” And with that Cargyll switched tasks and got right back to work.

Turning and walking down the west hall, you were happy to say, chaos began to fizzle out. This hall had the larger dogs; no wonder Aemond wouldn’t be able to walk all six at once. Even with the slow turn of summer to autumn sunset wouldn’t be for another three hours. Assuming all went well you’d be able to walk the second batch of dogs, too. 

Down the aisle were five opened doors with each respective dog ready for their walk. Their leashes were hooked onto the door so they couldn’t run amuck. You patted and scratched them, earning yourself more wagging tails, a few happy barks, and some excited licks. Looking to the end of the hall you saw someone who you assumed was your evening walking partner. He was kneeling, talking soothingly to a great big senior hound, while clasping the final buckle of their harness. “Hello, uh-, Aemond?” You called out feeling slightly self-conscious. 

Still kneeling, he turned his head to look up at you. Any softness in his single eye quickly hardened to match the rest of his sharp features. “Hey,” he said, caught off guard by your presence; someone he’d never seen calling him out by name. “Is there something I can help you with?” Slowly, in a single fluid motion, he stood up and the aged dog kept his eyes on him the whole time, panting happily.

Whoa. He was tall. And, at first sight, incredibly good looking: dressed in casual black clothes, long silver hair tied into a braid, with a scar along the left side of his face that you had to tell yourself not to stare at. His mouth was a unique shape, too, and you weren’t sure if he was merely waiting for a response or if he was smirking the tiniest pout at you. “Hi,” you said again with a nervous laugh. You told him your name. “Arryk sent me. Said you could use some help with the walk tonight?” ‘Play it cool, dummy. He’s really handsome, so what? He could be a huge asshole. Play. It. Cool,’ your inner voice said.

Did he have a mechanical eye beneath his patch? The way he looked at you, then, made you feel like he read your thoughts. “Ah. I could certainly use the help,” he said smoothly with a small curve of lip, turning his attention to the three dogs at the front of the hallway. “Wanna take those three?” He asked, looping the big dog’s leash around his wrist. “I mean, you can have any of them as long as I get this guy. He’s my favorite.”

Your pulse raced a little too fast. Clearing your throat, you smiled in an attempt to ease the butterflies in your belly. “I don’t mind. Why is he your favorite?” You turned and began to unclasp leashes from their doors; happy tips and taps of claws growing louder at the pups’ excitement.

“Reminds me of my girl at home,” Aemond replied, adoration clear in his voice. “Big and old, a little stinky, a little slobbery. The best kind, really.”

“Aw, that’s very sweet. I don’t have any pets. I get my fix here,” you laughed. Holding all three dogs in one hand, you pulled the door open with the other. Except, it didn’t open. On instinct, you tried again hoping Aemond didn’t notice.

He strode up next to you with the rest of the dogs in tow, smirking at you for real this time, as he said, “it’s a push door.”

You knew it was a push door. Fuck. He gave you a knowing glance over his shoulder as he walked out, waiting for you to follow along.

II.

You didn’t see Aemond on Wednesday and you couldn’t deny your disappointment when you left for the night. Come to find out you two had been volunteering at the same place for months – only on different days. He tended to be there Tuesdays and Thursdays. 

Monday had been a chance encounter. One you couldn’t shake out of your head. 

Before leaving tonight, however, you took a selfie with Aemond’s favorite old hound. You’d exchanged numbers but hadn’t an excuse to strike up a conversation. Yet. Now, with the selfie as an excuse, you opened a fresh text thread and sent him the photo along with:

Someone missed you tonight! 

While buckling up in your car and getting ready to reverse out of your parking spot, your phone dinged with an incoming message:

Very cute. Will you be there on Monday? Maybe Cargyll will assign up walking duties again.

Your belly flipped. Truthfully, you weren’t expecting him to message back – especially so quickly. Before you could stop yourself you sent back:

Yup! See you then?

And he sent:

I’ll find another excuse to be there. 

Feeling a little bold, you replied:

Excited to see you again! You have these adorable dimples when you smile. Maybe I’ll see those, too?

When nothing came through for a few minutes, you feared you might have gone too far. It was just a little innocent flirting, right? Nothing bad? And then:

Maybe so. See you Monday.

Smiling, you didn’t send anything back. It’d be your luck to say something dumb and rub him the wrong way. 

During your first walk, as soon as the ice broke, you both clicked really well. Hopefully – just maybe – things would flow like that again. The connection you felt, something akin to a liveware, couldn’t have been one-sided. He had to feel a spark of it, too; even if just a little.

You drove home, made dinner while facetiming one of your friends from uni, and when she asked about the spark in your eye you told her about your friend Helaena’s younger brother.

III.

“I seriously cannot believe you’ve never seen The Lord of the Rings. The Hobbit trilogy was a little silly, but watchable. But you haven’t even seen that?” Aemond asked clearly aghast at your lack of understanding his reference.

Tonight, you both got walking duty again and neither of you complained. And, this time, he regarded you with a softer look in his eye than his original sharp glance. He was dressed in dark casuals again and you hated (loved?) how good he made them look. His hair was in a bun and his eyepatch stayed firmly in place. You wanted to ask him about it but weren’t sure if you should try it yet. Instead, you rolled your eyes and laughed. “You’re making it sound better and better the more you talk about it.”

“That’s because it’s the best.” The dogs pulled both of you along and you had to walk brisker than normal to keep up with them and Aemond’s longer legs. He seemed unaffected by it.

“So, you recommend I watch it?” You asked playfully.

“No,” he started, very serious. “I recommend you read it first and then watch the movies.”

If you had more breath in your lungs you’d have giggled – not laughed, but giggled. Something about the way he said it, and the totally serious look on his face, tickled you. “Will you watch them with me?”

The question appeared to catch Aemond off guard. He looked at you, lingering over your pinkened cheeks and smirking lips, before finally making it back to your eyes. Just when he opened his mouth to say something in reply, a completely unrelated thing stole his attention. Sometime during your bantering you’d made it back to the shelter, and a tall dark-haired woman called out, “there’s my sweet Aemond. I’ve been trying to get a hold of you and you haven’t been answering your phone.”

If you thought Aemond attractive, this woman made him look like any regular ol' Joe. She was elegant, warmed by a late summer tan, and had raven dark hair cascading down her back; truly a vision of enchantment. When she sauntered to him and pressed her body to his, you felt like a voyeur watching the embrace.

“Alys,” Aemond breathed quietly. “What do you want?”

“You know what I want,” she answered as she trailed manicured fingers across the front of his chest.

She had a timeless look to her, the kind that concealed her age. She could have been anywhere from twenty-five to fifty, you thought. You really hadn’t a clue. All you knew, now, is that you should finish your task alone.

Aemond’s throat bobbed as he swallowed. Posture tense. “I told you I was busy tonight–”

Before you could stop yourself you cut him off with an awkward wave. “See you later, Aemond.” And, with that, you walked inside before you overheard anything else they might be saying to each other. Turning to glance over your shoulder one last time, you were met with a look of deliberate triumph from Alys; she had the greenest eye you’d ever seen. 

It was haunting.

Driving home, you felt stupid. Aemond was just a guy you just met. It was silly to think someone like him would be single and even sillier to think your innocent flirtations would be working on him. You had half a mind to delete his number. Or, at the very least to delete the short message thread of your texts.

Instead of making dinner like you normally did, you called in delivery and facetimed with your friend as you waited. She immediately knew something was off and you were quick to tell her everything that happened.

Twenty minutes passed and you were starting to feel better. It’s not like you two hooked up or even kissed. It was just a chance meeting with playful banter. Nothing to get shook up about. “Food’s here. Thanks for listening to me. I’ll talk to you later. Love you!” You said as you got up to answer the door. 

When all else failed, your favorite food could always make you feel better.

Turning the tv on and sitting down amongst your couch pillows and blankets, you were getting ready to dig in when your phone rang. 

Aemond. 

Your insides did a weird flip and hunger disappeared entirely from your mind and belly. Should you answer? Let it go to voicemail? Turn the stupid thing off and completely ignore him? Right before the final ring, you decided. “Hello?”

“Hey,” he said, immediately sounding relieved. “I’m sorry about that. I wasn’t yet ready to call it a night with you.”

“It’s no biggie,” you replied. Lying. “I didn’t want to interrupt anything–,” you paused, searching for something else to say to soften the edge of your voice, “–the dogs were getting tired anyway.” God. It sounded stupid even to your own ears.

Aemond sighed through the phone. You wondered if he slid his hand down his face or through his hair. It sounded like he did. “No. Alys is… it’s complicated. She’s my ex and–”

“ –you don’t have to explain anything to me,” you said, cutting him off. “Really. It’s fine.” Despite it being a phone call, you tried to smile as if it would blunt the dismissal of your tone.

“I mean it,” he said. “I really wasn’t ready to say bye yet. What do you say you skip your regular Wednesday night plans and grab a milkshake or something with me?”

Your insides flipped again but for an entirely different reason this time. You knew it: the sparks definitely weren’t one sided. The firm set of Aemond’s jaw and the rigidness of his shoulders flashed once more in your mind’s eye. Since your break up with your long-term boyfriend you’d been on a few dates, but none of them lead to anything worthwhile. With how you and Aemond clicked, however? This date might lead to something more than a hook-up (or, attempt at a hook-up. Some men truly had no game). “Are you sure…?” You asked after a moment. “You and Alys looked pretty comfortable–,”

“ –I’m sure,” it was his turn to cut you off.

“Alright then. Let’s do it.”

IV.

It'd been two months since your first milkshake date with Aemond – the first of many dates. It was a guilty pleasure of yours and apparently one of his, too!

Your first kiss, first time meeting his elder dog, Vhagar, and first time meeting his family were all memories you cherished. 

The more you learned about Aemond’s relationship with Alys, the more you understood it "complicated". Including Targaryen drama, Targaryen business, and a list of other things you had a hard time following. It didn’t matter anymore, though, Aemond reassured you. Things were done between them and he only wanted you; proving it to you with fingers and mouth until you begged for a break.

A lesson you learned from your last relationship – one Aemond learned from his, too – was to be careful with love. As much as you genuinely enjoyed him and his company, a barrier stood between you that neither dared yet to cross.

Love.

Each day you fell for him a little more; you were scared to admit it. The scar of heartbreak healed slowly. Could you truly trust Aemond with that part of yourself? With the very essence of your heart? It’d been two months and you still weren’t entirely sure.

If he felt the same he’d say something, right?

Autumn blanketed the lands with brisk air, rainy days, and rolling fog. As days grew short and nights long, you and Aemond spent more time at your apartment or his quarter at the Targaryen estate. Your apartment was the clear favorite. Living alone had its perks: never having to worry about nosy family or friends who showed up unannounced.

And thank God you didn’t live with anyone else. 

"Mmh… fuck, baby, I've been thinking about this all day. I can't get enough of you. Let me make my girl feel good," he said against your mouth as one of his hands moved up the inside of your thigh. "Are you wet already? I bet you are," he chuckled, fingertips tracing your slit. "Mmm… I knew it. Your clit is sooo needy, isn't it?" 

Shit. Those hushed words, the glint in his eye, his rasped tone… you happily indulged him in whatever way he wanted. And him, you. Fingers, mouth, cock, he quickly learned what tricks made you melt. 

As much as he loved having you ride him, or bending you over, his absolute favorite was fucking you into the mattress. You sprawled out beneath him, hair messy and fanned out around your head, legs wrapped tight around his waist, fingernails on his body… he could never get enough of your blushed face beneath him, trembling and arching as he pushed you to peak after peak.

Your sheets had never been cleaned so often in your entire life.

It was particularly rainy today and you were both finished with everything on your to-do list. Aemond sat on the floor in front of you as you lounged in your overstuffed chair. You told him you'd read the Lord of the Rings as long as he read it to you. He didn't even pretend to be annoyed by your bargain. He read to you from his own collection, claiming he liked the worn feeling of the pages better than a new book's pages. 

Like any proper reader Aemond started with The Hobbit. You enjoyed it more than you thought you would. More so than the story, however, you enjoyed him reading aloud to you – he had the loveliest voice. You were about half way through The Fellowship of the Ring and the story continued to get better.

But, all afternoon, Aemond's phone never stopped going off. It seemed like every few minutes it would ping with some kind of notification. "Who's blowing you up?" You asked, annoyance creeping into your tone.

Stopping mid sentence, he looked. "Alys," he sighed as he scrolled through the various messages. 

You tried to not look over his shoulder to the texts. You really did. But there was something about Aemond's shift in posture, and the air around him, that made you suspicious. "What's going on?" You asked in your best nonchalant manner.

"She's asking if I have some of her clothes at my place still," he answered and you swore you saw pink spread atop his cheeks.

That caught you off guard. "Why would she have clothes–"

And whatever else you were going to say was abruptly cut off.

There, in a new string of messages, was the single text line, "I miss you, baby boy," followed by at least three photographs of Alys in lingerie and various stages of undress. 

"What the fuck Aemond!?" You asked, anger and hurt instantly warming your blood. "What the hell were those? Are you fucking joking?"

"I have no idea why she sent–"

" –is that why she left clothes at your place? Couldn't let her go for real? Jesus Christ I can't believe you." Anger flushed your face and bittered your words.

"Listen, please. Hear me out, bab–"

" –oh fuck off, Aemond, you don't get to 'babe' me around anymore. In fact, just leave."

He looked as hurt as you. And shocked. A hundred emotions played across his chiseled features. "No, really. Let me explain," he pleaded with eye and tone.

You weren't having it. You were cheated on before and he knew it. It made your own hurt cleave even deeper. You really fucking liked him. Maybe even loved him. And this whole time he had you and Alys? "I'm seriously about to get really fucking angry. Leave. Now."

He stood and left. Silent fury screamed around him like a whirlwind. He didn't even give you one final look over his shoulder.

He shut your door with a deliberate click.

You curled up in your blanket alone as fat ugly tears streamed down your face. You couldn't be bothered to grab a tissue for your snotty nose. 

Aemond's leather jacket was still draped over the back of your couch and his book still lay on the floor. Your crying somehow turned uglier at the realization.

Eventually you dozed off. With Aemond, you always had your phone on silent so you didn't hear all his missed calls and texts.

V.

The following month went by in a blur; you drowned yourself in work. You also stopped volunteering because you didn't want to give Aemond the opportunity to meet you there. By some feat of strength you ignored all his attempts at talking – and by proxy, apologizing.

The only thing you said to him was a single text:

I need time. Please understand

Part of you wondered how it affected him. His calls and texts became sparse until they eventually stopped.

Helaena asked where you'd been and you felt horrible lying to her. So, you didn't. After telling her the story she sighed and asked if you'd want to grab tea. You agreed. Meeting her at a local cafe allowed you to air out your feelings; laughs and tears alike. She was kind, and sweet, and supportive without being passive. She loved her brother but knew he had many of his own issues. You'd been friends for over a year and this was the first true heart to heart you shared.

Upon returning home you picked up the Fellowship and tried to read from where Aemond left off. But, it wasn’t the same without him and it only made you cry. Again.

VI.

The following morning, despite your car's newer model, it barely wanted to start for your drive to work. By a stroke of luck you made it there fine. And, made it back home that evening, too. But that was the end of your luck. It needed to be picked up and taken to a shop until a mechanic could see it.

Carless, you had to rely on Uber or public transportation. Yuck.

A few days of stress passed and now you were done for the week. Thank God for weekends. Unfortunately your groceries were extremely low and you would need to make a trip in the morning. You sighed and used it as an excuse to order pizza.

After waking up and a breakfast of (the last, and past its sell-by date) packet oatmeal you got around to make the walk to the nearest grocery store. Knowing you'd be walking home, too, the list was small. Carrying bags up two flights of stairs was hard enough, much less carrying them home a mile!

On the way back it started sprinkling. Great. Just great. You started walking faster with hopes of making quicker time than your leisurely stroll to the store. Then, seemingly out of nowhere, you heard your name called. Was that…? Stopping in your tracks you looked across your shoulder to the side of the road and saw none other than Aemond. You knew his car and voice anywhere. You didn't have to see yourself to know a dozen emotions played across your face.

"Hey," he said gently, his own features a mirror of yours.

"Hi," you said.

"Why are you walking in the rain with groceries?"

Slumping your unintentionally scrunched up shoulders, you sighed. "Stupid car died on me and it's been with the mechanic for almost a week."

He smiled softly. So soft. The outside of his seeing eye crinkled and emotion rushed to your chest. Your gut. "You're way too good to be walking alone. Let me drive you home at least?" 

You didn't resist. How could you? "Alright. Sure. Just dropping me off though, okay?" Guilt panged your chest. Did he feel it too? Could he read it on your face he knew so well?

"Alright," he answered, expression falling just slight. You might as well have stomped on his foot with how it affected you.

I miss you. I love you. I'm sorry. Can we try it again? Can I hold your hand? God I love your hair in a ponytail. You smell good. Did you see the trailer for that new horror movie? I miss you. I love you. I'm sorry. It all turned around your head like a fucking rotisserie chicken. It shouldn't be so hard to say any of those things to him. But it was.

You didn't say anything on the short ride home. Neither did he. His right hand flexed a few times and you wondered if he was having a hard time, too.

"Can you get it all upstairs?" He asked as he pulled into an empty spot and parked, looking across to you with horribly concealed emotion.

"Yes, but…," you trailed off momentarily, trying to read his face. "I still have your book and jacket. Wanna come up and grab them?" You asked hopefully.

He killed the engine faster than you could blink. "Yes! So that's where they've been. You could have mentioned it sooner," he said slightly accusingly, grinning at you with a spark of playfulness.

Leading the way upstairs to your apartment, you unlocked the door and disappeared inside. After placing your items down and grabbing Aemond's, you turned to look at him standing in the doorway. He leaned against it. Waiting. Quiet. He glanced around with a wistfulness that made your throat tight. You watched him watching you and your home until the air became awkward – was it half a second, a few seconds, longer? You weren't sure. 

Slowly you walked over to him. Your gaze flickered up at him as you handed his things back. "Were you ever going to tell me the truth?" You asked. "Did you think I really wouldn't find out? Why did you stick around if I wasn't good enough?"

He blinked. Taken back. "You never even gave me the chance to explain." His jaw feathered before it tightened. His eye hardened.

You grabbed the door, fixing to close it on him. Now that you started talking – unloading pent up questions which kept you tossing and turning at night – you couldn't decide if you wanted to slam it on his face or yell. "I told you how I was cheated on! And you did it anyway! I trusted you, Aemond." Your voice thinned, sounding shrill even to your own ears.

One of his hands braced on the door so you couldn't close it on him. "So this is your revenge then, huh? Punishing both of us? Why don't you trust me?" Hurt and fury simmered in the lovely hue of his eye. A storm. No, a hurricane. "Alys and I have been done for months. Months. Even before you and I met. I'm sorry for what she did but I can’t control what she does. She was playing her wicked games trying to sabotage us– you and me. Don't shut me out. Please." 

He pleaded, every pore and line of his face begging for forgiveness. As each word came off his tongue they clicked into place in your head. He meant it. He was telling the truth. Before you could stop yourself your fists balled into the front of his shirt, pulling him down so your mouth crashed up to his. "You mean it?" You asked through the kiss.

Instantly he leaned down into you, and instantly he held onto your waist pulling you deeper against him. His other hand cradled the side of your face daring to curve along the shape of your skull. "I mean it. Yes I fucking mean it," he answered against the kiss; breath stealing yours away until it left you in a little moan.

You pulled him inside and shut the door, locking it. You moaned as he nipped and bit at your neck. Your heart thumped wildly. He sucked at the sensitive skin, again and again, pulling away just before leaving a mark. "God, Aem,” you whimpered. Goosebumps covered your body. The only thing on your mind was him.

"Fuck, I missed you. I missed you so much." His hands were somehow all over you all at once. His mouth trailed, and dragged, and kissed over any exposed portion of your skin. He happily pulled off layers of your clothing to expose more and more of your soft, warm, saccharine flesh; intoxicating him. After weeks of your separation the last thing he wanted to do was to push too far too fast.  “Can I take this off?” He asked before taking your shirt off.

“Yes,” you replied breathily. “Fuck it. Take all of it off. I missed you too. So much,” you said as you helped pull his clothes off, too. He pushed you against a wall. You kissed. Heavier, and hotter, and hungrier. You pushed him against a wall. 

He gasped as he smirked. “I love when you act all tough when we both know I can have you squirming under me in minutes,” he growled, pupil swelling. The dimples at the very corners of his mouth betrayed his amusement, however, as he once again pushed you against the wall. You were both only in your underwear, now, and his lean body on yours had you aching. “My tough girl… how quickly do you think it’ll last when my fingers are in you?”

“Why don’t we find out?” You asked defiantly, knowing damn well it wouldn’t last long at all. By now you were both down the hallway and your bedroom was only a couple feet away. You needed him. Now. And judging by how fucking hard he was he needed you too.

The next moment went by in a blur and before you could catch yourself you were sprawled out on your back atop your bed. Aemond made quick work of moving you both inside, and made quicker work of pulling your panties down. He groaned as your thighs immediately spilled open for him. He dragged two fingers up your slit and circled your clit with your arousal. “Shit–,” he hissed. “Never make me wait so long to have this pussy again. Do you understand me? Never,” he said as he worked your already swollen clit. He played with it just how he knew you liked it and your cunt’s tiny wet sounds sent his cock throbbing. “Answer me.”

Tension built in the low muscles of your belly. Your legs began to tighten already – one of the tell-tale signs of your approaching climax. How the hell could he push you there so quickly? “N-never! Ahh-h never again!” You replied, voice light, and sweet, and tantalizing as any sin Aemond ever knew. “Please, Aemond, I want to cum…!”

He shoved those same two fingers into you. “Good girl,” he said as he curled those fingers. “This pussy is mine. All fucking mine. Give it to me,” he said huskily as he worked them in and out of you. It was sloppy and wet. Borderline obscene. Each time he slammed his hand against you he was mindful to press the heel of his palm against your clit and your mound, knowing how the extra pressure sent your pretty toes curling.

You cried out his name as your eyes clenched shut. The tension in your belly snapped and a wave of glorious bliss washed over you. Sweat sheened between your breasts and along your lip. You arched, quivered, shuddering in the aftermath of his intensity. 

Aemond’s mouth crashed to yours and you threaded your fingers through the roots of his hair. It was still in a ponytail and you had no mind to take it out, you just had to pull him deeper into the kiss. He tasted the salt of your sweat and groaned. “Relax your pussy, baby, you’re clenching me really hard. It feels amazing but I don’t wanna hurt you pulling out,” he said tenderly, nuzzling his nose into the crook of your neck.

“Sorry,” you giggled. “Just feels too good.” You tried to steady your breath and relax as he laid beside you, continuing to kiss your neck and shoulders. When your spongy walls finally eased around him you were sad to feel him withdraw. Stress melted away from your subconscious and you wanted to thank him for the pleasure. You wondered if your eyes said it while he looked at you.

Leaning up, he discarded the final piece of his clothing and sighed in relief as his cock sprang free. He got between your thighs and looked down at you hungerily. “Look at you all doe eyed already. See? I knew you couldn’t stay tough for long,” he said, smug, as he lined up with your drenched cunt. He held one of your legs up against him, and you pressed the other against his side. 

When you left for the store this morning you had no idea your afternoon would go in this direction.

He pushed into you. Inch by inch he sunk into you and soon he was as deep as he could be. A moan escaped both of you, and a throatier one left him when his free hand tugged at your bra. It was one that clipped in the front. He popped it open and rocked into you as soon as your tits spilled free. "You're so sexy like this."

With your body already sensitive from your first orgasm, and now with Aemond building a rhythm between your thighs, you weren't going to last long. "You feel so good," you purred, eyelids heavy. "Fuck I missed you."

Another sound left his chest and when you wrapped your legs around his slim waist you swore you felt goosebumps pebble all along his skin. Or, maybe those were your goosebumps on your legs. Whatever the case, Aemond leaned forward and kissed you again. "I missed you too," he rumbled. "Gonna let me fill this pretty pussy with my cum again?"

You two made good use of your birth control and you weren't about to deny him – or yourself – the pleasure of being thoroughly fucked and stuffed. "Y-yeah," you stammered, smiling.

Aemond mumbled something incoherent into your neck, and if your brain wasn't foggy from his perfect fucking cock you might have caught what he said. 

He leaned up and supported himself on his forearms, pressing his forehead to yours. "You're my girl. You're my fucking girl. You're my fucking girl," he repeated again and again until the pace of his thrusts grew sloppy. Somehow the sloppiness of it, the neediness and urgency of his voice, sent emotion swelling in all of you.

Heat collected and grew out from your spine, webbing throughout your entire body. You clung to him desperately. You rolled your hips up into him and shamelessly grinded your clit against his pelvis as he drove in and out of you. It was all too much. You crumbled beneath him and let orgasm take control of you. The depths of your body squeezed and convulsed around him, holding him tight and soaking the fullness of his length with your slick. He never stopped or paused his thrusts. 

His own peak followed. Once he was as deep as he could be he released everything he had into you. He stayed there, both of you panting through little moans, until he no longer twitched between your stretched walls. Slowly, he pulled out, and slowly, his seed dribbled out of you. Grinning, he rolled onto his back and scooped you against him.

"Let's stay here like this all day," you mumbled happily, fingertips trailing up and down his abdomen and chest.

"You'll get no argument from me," he said.

Quiet minutes passed and the sound of his heart nearly put you into a trance. "I'm sorry for how I acted," you finally admitted.

All the while he'd been petting and trailing his fingers through your hair. He didn't stop as he answered, "and I'm sorry for not trying harder." He kissed your forehead and held you tighter.

"Let's try it again. For real this time. With the titles and commitment and everything."

"Are you asking or telling me to be your boyfriend?"

You smirked. "I'm suggesting."

Returning your smirk, he pulled you atop him so you could straddle him. "You're all mine," he said with a dark eye. "My perfect girl." 

Leaning down, you kissed and nipped his bottom lip. "Are you already hard again, Aemond Targaryen?"

A chuckle rumbled somewhere in his chest as his touch dented into your hips to hold you at just the right angle. With a roll of his hips he pushed himself up inside you again. "Whose cock is this?"

You gasped, eyes darkening with another round of lust. "Mine."

"That's right. Yours. Not anyone else's. It's fucking yours."

You rode him until your tits were covered in fresh hickies and you were filled with another load of him.

Yours. His. The second chance you both needed.

-

Thank you so much for reading! If you enjoyed, please consider a follow, and/or reblog, and/or letting me know as it all makes me vvvery happy! ♥

To be added or removed from the taglist, hit me up!

Masterlist

Main taglist: @watercolorskyy @melsunshine @girlwith-thepearlearring @arcielee @barbiedragon @dreamsofoldvalyria @chompchompluke @fan-goddess

Aemond taglist: @darylandbethfanforever9 @bellaisasleep @aemondsblog @khaleesihel @sirenofavalon @sahvlren @doublesparrows @aemonds-fire @nikstrange @abbyandizzysmum @lost-and-founds @castellomargot @okfashionista @avidreader73 @snh96 @boofy1998 @evermorre

[pinksturniolo]

If I Can’t Have You, No One Can - Part One

Matt Sturniolo x Fem Reader

Summary: Matt can’t seem to stand the fact that he can’t have you to himself. He knows it’s wrong to want you. After all, you’ve been dating his best friend for the past few months. But he never claimed to be a good guy. And he’s more than willing to show you just what you’ve been missing.

Content warnings (not in every chapter): smut, oral, fingering, raw sex, cheating, unhealthy relationship, obsession, spanking, use of alcohol

word count: 3,887

written in first person pov

Spring 2023

I never liked L.A. I mean, don’t get me wrong, it’s a nice city. Besides the cost of living being outrageously expensive, the weather was almost always nice and there were a lot of fun things to do. It’s the people that are insufferable. The increasingly large number of influencers and rude celebrities make me want to move away to a small town where nobody knows me, somewhere with a lot of nature and miles of land between you and your neighbor.

I grew up in Pasadena, moving closer to the city after my parents divorced and my mom switched me to a different high school. After I graduated, I got a job in merchandising downtown working for a clothing brand. It was always my dream to work in fashion and I was lucky to be in a spot I wanted.

Working in the fashion industry and living in L.A., I was bound to end up in the circle of today’s social media stars and to be quite honest, there were only a handful of people I actually liked. One of my coworkers, Jackson, became my best friend and he was very outgoing, always dragging me along to influencer parties and events. He had a lot of connections which were good for work but as far as I was concerned, I tried my best not to get involved with anyone on a personal level.

But life has a funny way of throwing you for a loop. Jackson introduced me to Mark who was also in the same line of work we were in. We instantly clicked, the conversation flowing easily. He was attractive, funny and nice. It didn’t take long before we became exclusive and our friends were over the moon, saying how good of a couple we made.

A few months had passed, and I was content. But there was something missing. He was a good boyfriend and treated me well, but I just didn’t feel… passion. I didn’t feel those fireworks. That heart racing, mind bending, butterfly inducing feelings that were portrayed in every romance movie or book you’ve seen or read.

The only person who ever made me feel like that was Matthew Sturniolo.

Matt and his brothers Chris and Nick happened to be really good friends with Mark, and I was introduced to them once me and him started dating. I found them charming, hilarious and some of the nicest influencers I had met so far. Me, Jackson, and Nick became inseparable, hanging out almost every weekend.

Mine and Matt’s friendship started out innocent. He was a little shy at first, but it didn’t take long for him to open up around me and we found that we had many things in common.

Maybe more than I have with Mark.

The more time I spent around him, the more I liked him. And it was rarely ever one on one interactions. Most of the time, we all hung out in a group setting but I found myself looking to him when something was funny or observing his reaction when we were watching a movie, and hanging on to every word he said when he joined in on conversations.

As much as I tried to deny the fact that I had developed a huge crush, I couldn’t help that my mind was constantly filled with thoughts of him.

Thoughts of his smile, his laugh, his eyes. The way he looked in the mirror when he fixed his hair, the way his pinky lifted from the cup whenever he took a sip of his drink. I found myself wandering how well his lips would fit against mine. How his hands would feel on my body, the sound of his voice panting in my ear if he was on top of me-

It was sinful. I felt horrible and disgusting and I’m sure there was a special place in hell reserved for me.

So, I tried to back off as much as I could. Whenever Mark went to the triplet’s house to hang out like we did almost every week, I made some excuse that I didn’t feel good, or I just wanted some alone time. He was a little concerned at first but then stopped questioning it after a while which I was thankful for.

Matt and Nick constantly blew up my phone, asking why I suddenly stopped coming over and I kept my responses as dry as possible. Even Chris called me a couple times, but I ignored it. I felt bad but I knew it was for the best.

 I wanted to respect Mark because even though it pained me to finally admit to myself that I wasn’t in love with him, I did care for him, and I didn’t want to break up. We had only been dating for a few months so obviously we weren’t that serious yet to consider moving in together or even discuss marriage but that didn’t mean that he deserved for his girlfriend to lust over his best friend.

And then one night, when they were all at Top Golf, Jackson called me. I knew I would never hear the end of it if I ignored his call, so reluctantly, I picked up.

“Y/N! Get your bum ass over here, I’m sick of you avoiding us. You’ve had enough alone time. You need to come back to reality.” He scolded.

“Jackson, I’m not avoiding anyone.”

“You sure about that? Cause I could argue there is a certain someone-“

“Jackson.”

“Y/N. I’m serious. I miss you, everyone misses you.”

“I miss you guys too…”

“Okay, so why can’t you come out?”

“It’s… complicated.” I sighed in frustration, unsure how much longer I could keep dodging the situation without explaining it properly. I had a feeling Jackson knew why. He was my best friend, and best friends always knew.

“Complicated how?” He pressed.

There were a few seconds of silence as I tried to find the right words to say, but I just couldn’t come up with anymore good excuses and I knew I was fucked.

“Well, I’m not hearing any good explanation, so if you’re not at the triplet’s house by the time we get there, I’m literally coming over there and dragging you out of the house myself.”

Click.

Yeah, I was fucked.

I walked up the driveway to the entrance of the house, my heart racing and legs feeling like Jello. I really needed to get my shit together. I hadn’t seen Matt in a while, and I found myself extremely nervous as I entered the front door. I walked up the stairs, seeing everyone at the kitchen table. Everyone except Mark and Matt.

I smiled, setting my purse and keys on the table and greeted everyone.

“Mark said he had to finish up some work at the office. Something about a deadline that was coming up soon.” Jackson said, noticing the curious expression on my face.

“Okay…” I replied. That was weird, he’s usually good at communicating with me and I had assumed he had come back with everyone after Top Golf.

Jackson just shrugged, taking another bite of his chicken finger. Once I saw the familiar styrofoam box with red lettering, my jaw dropped and I put a hand over my heart, acting like I was just utterly betrayed.

“Wow, you guys got Cane’s without me?” I asked.

Chris rolled his eyes while Nick gave me a dirty look. “Excuse me, you haven’t been here in fucking 6 months.” He spoke.

“Don’t be dramatic, Nick. It’s been 3 weeks.” I replied.

“I’ll save you my last piece of toast if you promise to stay and watch a movie tonight?” Nick said, giving me puppy dog eyes.

My heart dropped and I gave him a soft smile. “Maybe.” I replied.

“Don’t get your hopes up, it took some threatening just to get her over here.” Jackson added, glaring at me.

“Whatever, you’ll only be breaking Matt’s heart if you don’t stay.” Chris said, looking at me with an expression I couldn’t read.

“What do you mean?” I asked. Did it really matter to Matt that much whether I was here or not?

Chris started to speak but then Nick stomped on his foot which caused him to hunch over in pain. “What the fuck dude?” Chris said, rubbing his hurt foot.  I raised an eyebrow and looked over at Jackson. What the hell is wrong with them?

He simply shrugged again, a small smirk on his face and went back to eating. His nonchalant attitude was starting to bother me. I was definitely having a talk with him later.

“What he means is… Matt misses you. He said you’ve been ignoring his calls. And don’t get me started on that. You have a lot of making up to do.” Nick said, referring to the fact I’ve been ignoring everyone’s calls.

“I know, I’m sorry… Where is Matt anyways?” I asked, looking around.

“He’s in his room if you wanna go talk to him.” Nick replies, and I get nervous again, butterflies starting to form in my stomach.

I nod and walk away, towards Matt’s room.

I had only been in his room a few times and it was usually with Nick or Jackson, never just me and him. It wasn’t even a big deal but for some reason, the thought of being alone in his room with him scared me.

I knocked on his door softly, waiting for his response. After a few moments of silence, I knocked again, calling his name quietly. “Matt?”

He still didn’t answer. I was about to give up when I heard him respond, “Come in.”

I slowly cracked the door and could see it was dark in his room, the only light coming from the TV. I walked in and saw that he was in his bed, submerged under his comforter, only his head peeking out. His hair was a mess, and his eyes were barely open.

“Oh shit, I didn’t mean to wake you up.” I said and started to move back towards the door.

“No no, its okay. I needed to get up anyway.” He rasped, sleep still thick in his voice.

He sat up slightly, moving the blanket down and I tried not to stare because he didn’t have a shirt on, and I was getting a full view of the tattoos on his arm. Even though he had just woken up, he still looked so handsome.

 He pats the spot on the bed next to him, inviting me to sit down. My heart is still beating faster than usual as I sit on the edge of his bed, making sure there was more than enough space between us.

“All that golfing got you tired?” I ask teasingly, smiling at him. He laughs, a sound that I hadn’t realized I had missed so much.

“To be honest, I’ve been tired all the time lately.” He responds, running a hand through his hair.

“Me too.” I say, looking down to my lap. This small talk was killing me.

“Is that why you’ve been declining my calls? You sleeping too much?” He gets straight to the point, and I can feel his eyes on me.

I laugh nervously, unsure how to tell him the real reason I’ve been avoiding him.

“I’ve just been really busy with work. You know how that goes.” I say, hoping he won’t question me further.

He hums and nods his head, as I finally make eye contact with him. “I don’t really believe you… But that’s fine. I just hope it’s not because I’ve done something wrong.”

“No, of course not. It’s not that you’re doing anything wrong…” I reply, stopping before I say anything I regret. You’re just consuming my every thought and desire.

“So, it is something I’m doing then?” he asks, wanting me to clarify.

My words seem to get stuck in my throat as I look at him, unsure how to even answer that. His eyes are burning into mine, making my heart race faster.

“No.” I simply reply, and he raises his brows at my dry response.

“Yes.” I blurt, and his face is now plastered with confusion and hint of amusement as I get flustered, pinching my nose and closing my eyes in frustration.

“Yes?” He asks.

“No- fuck, I meant-“ I start and Matt interrupts me, a shit eating grin on his face.

“Yes or no, Y/N?” He says, now enjoying the fact I was making a fool of myself.

“No, Matt. It has nothing to do with you, okay?” I say, getting up from his bed. Lies.

“Now can we go watch a movie before Nick starts throwing a fit?”

✿

A couple hours and three bags of popcorn later, we were all sat on the couch as the credits of Edward Scissorhands roll on the screen. I checked my phone and to my surprise, Mark still hasn’t texted or called. I’m sure he’ll just call me in the morning.

Jackson yawns and stretches his arms out in his seat next to me, announcing it’s time for him to go home. “We’ll talk later, yeah?” He says to me, and I nod as he gives his goodbyes to Matt and Nick. Chris passed out halfway through the movie until me and Nick started spraying whipped cream smiley faces on his forehead, annoying him enough to make him storm off to his room.

Once Jackson is gone, Nick scoots next to me and throws his arm on the back of the couch behind me, giving me a suggestive look.

“Sooo… are you gonna spill the tea? What’s up with you and Mark?” He asks, nudging my shoulder.

I furrow my brows in confusion as his question. “What do you mean?”

I can feel Matt staring at me from his spot across the other side of the couch.

“Well, Mark barely even mentioned you tonight and then he randomly left saying he had to finish up some stuff at work. And I’m guessing he didn’t even tell you because you keep checking your phone like you’re waiting for his call.” Nick says.

“Wow, you’re incredibly observant.” I respond and I hear Matt chuckle.

“I know. Also, that would explain why you’ve been MIA the past few weeks. Are you guys gonna break up or something?” He asks.

I shake my head. “No, it’s not that.”

He raises his eyebrows, waiting for me to elaborate.

“But something is going on with you two?” Nick questions.

I hesitate and look at Matt, an unreadable expression on his face. He’s leaning back on the couch with his arms crossed, his legs spread slightly in his sweatpants. “Please stop beating around the bush, Y/N. We just want to make sure you’re okay.” He speaks.

I sigh, throwing my head back and tucking my hair behind my ears. “Okay. Look, we’re not breaking up. But I’ve just felt different recently… like… I don’t know, like I don’t feel the same way about him like when we first met. Maybe we rushed into things too quickly. He has been working a lot lately and I just feel… lonely.” Empty. Bored. Unsatisfied.

Nick hums in understanding, tilting his head. “See, that makes sense. You guys have zero chemistry. At least that’s what I’ve always thought. Right, Matt?” He says, looking to him.

“Zero.” He replies instantly. His eyes have not left me since we started this conversation, and it makes me want to melt into the couch.

Suddenly, Nick gets a face time call and jumps up. “Shit, I have to take this. But we’re not done with this conversation, okay?” He tells me and I smile at him as he walks off upstairs.

I look at Matt, who now stands up and walks over to me, sitting down and putting his arm on the back of the couch, the same spot Nick had it in just moments earlier.

The way they switched places so quickly had my head spinning and the closeness of him next to me made my heart skip a beat.

“You know, you can sleep here if you want. I’m sure Nick won’t mind if you stay in his room.” He said politely. I smile at him, shaking my head. “It’s okay. I prefer my bed much better, no offense.” I reply and he laughs. “I won’t tell Nick you said that.”

“I’m sorry I’ve been ignoring your calls Matt… I guess my head’s just been a mess.” I tell him, looking to my lap, playing with a loose string on the rip in my jeans.

“It’s cool. You can talk to me anytime you need to though, you know. About anything.” He says ducking his head to try and make eye contact again. I give in, looking at him and his soft expression tugs at my heart strings like I’m a lovesick puppet.

“Thank you.” I reply. “But I don’t know if you wanna get caught up in that. I’ve been a little… frustrated, to say the least.”

His arm flexes behind me, and I see his jaw clench, a curious look now in his eyes.

“Frustrated?” He says and I realize I might have implied something with that statement.

“Uh, I mean, stressed, you know? Like I have all these pent-up emotions.”

Shit. What the fuck was I saying?

Matt is silent, and the way he’s looking at me has my heart beating a million miles a minute, my palms feeling sweaty and my head spinning.

Finally, he says, “Like you need a release, right?” My eyes are still locked on his, floating in a never-ending pool of icy cold blue that makes me feel warm in the palpable tension now filling the room.

“Mhm.” I say, afraid to speak, because I might continue to say incredibly stupid things I’ll regret.

I feel his hand ghost over the back of my neck, which causes chills to run down my spine.

He tilts his head slightly, his eyes travelling down my face, pausing at my lips. “I could help you with that too. If you asked.” He said quietly, almost whispering and looks me in the eyes again, a playful fire burning there and a sly smirk on his lips.

Before I can even process what he said, the next second, Nick comes bounding down the stairs from his room and Matt removes his arm from behind me, clearing his throat.

I jumped up, causing a weird look from Nick. “I-I need to go home. I forgot I have some things to do.” I blurt, going to grab my purse and keys from the table.

He looks back and forth from me to Matt, one eyebrow raised in confusion. “Okay… I guess I’ll see you later?” He asks and I give him a hug before walking to the front door past Matt, avoiding eye contact with him. “For sure. Later!” I say, trying to rush out the door as fast as I can.

Once I open the door and step out, I hear Matt run to catch up and I turn around while he shuts the door behind him.

“Y/N. Wait.” He says.

“Yes?” I ask, my breath coming out in short puffs.

The cool air of spring is blowing, leaves falling from the trees and flowers starting to bloom in the grass.

Matt looks at me in the same way he has all night and I notice he’s hesitating, his mouth opening but no words coming out.

“What?” I say, wondering what he could’ve possibly followed me out of his house for.

“Tell me you don’t feel what I feel.”

“What?” I say again, sounding like a broken record.

He moves closer to me, his body now a few inches from mine and I see his chest rise and fall quickly, his next words coming out breathlessly.

“Tell me you don’t feel something between us. I need to know the real reason why you’ve been ignoring me.”

My heart is pounding at his boldness, and I clutch to the keys in my hand so hard my skin stings with pain. I was not ready to have this conversation and all I could do is freeze as he waits for my response.

“Y/N, tell me you feel nothing. That I’m just a friend to you and nothing more.” He says softly now, reaching his hand out to brush his fingers against my jaw with the lightest touch.

I want to tell him that yes, you’re just a friend and nothing more. That I don’t have any feelings for you and I don’t think about you every moment I wake up and every moment before I go to sleep. That I feel nothing.

But I just can’t. I can’t say or do anything but stare back at him, my eyes surely saying the complete opposite of what I’m thinking.

He closes the gap between us, now grabbing both sides of my face in his hands, brushing his lips against mine. “Tell me you don’t want me.” He breaths, and my knees feel weak as I clutch onto his shirt. “Matt…” Is all I can manage and I’m not doing a very good job of convincing him that I don’t.

He groans at the needy sound in my voice, and I can’t take the tension anymore as I press my lips to his, kissing him. He instantly kisses me back, his grip tightening on my jaw and I’m not even sure how I’m still standing.

He tilts his head, deepening the kiss, our mouths moving in sync and it’s electric. His lips are so soft but firm in the way he leads, and when his tongue glides against mine, I moan lightly from the feeling. His hands now slip to my waist, mine still on his chest.

The kiss is becoming heated as we pant against each other, his fingertips digging into my hips and pulling me even closer to him. I feel his heart racing, the world slipping away like nothing else matters.

He kissed me like he couldn’t breathe, and I was his oxygen.

I wanted more and more, unsure that I will ever stop before a little voice in my head tells me that this is wrong, wrong, wrong. But it feels so fucking good.

No. This is bad.

“No-“ I say, suddenly pushing him away from me, catching my breath.

I shake my head, backing away from him now. “This is bad.”

His cheeks are tinted pink, lips swollen and red, his hair a mess.

“Y/N.” He says, taking a step towards me.

“I can’t, I’m sorry. This shouldn’t have happened.” I responded, stepping further from him. “I have to go.” And I turn away, practically running to my car and slamming the door, taking off before I can change my mind.

As I drive home, the look on Matt’s face replays in my head, and I touch my lips, the feeling of his kiss still there.  

I’ve never felt this strongly before, and as I drive further and further from him, I feel an invisible string tugging on me, willing me to turn around.

It’s a dangerous game to play, whatever we’ve started.

a/n: matts pov and disgusting smut in part two 😁

feedback and thoughts appreciated 💕

taglist:

@sturniolopepsi @tillies33ssss @whicked-hazlatwhore @riasturns @christhopersturniolo

[endless-ineffabilities]

Maroon (part one)

modern!Aemond Targaryen x f!reader

The burgundy on my T-shirt when you splashed your wine into me

And how the blood rushed into my cheeks, so scarlet, it was (maroon)

themes: fluff, Aemond and the reader being friends first, shy reader, red wine antics, language + Aemond does not have his disability/lost eye in this one (but I plan to write it in for a potential part two)

word count: 3.8k

series masterlist ▪︎ main masterlist

The reader has always admired Aemond Targaryen from afar, the brother of her best friend Helaena. Little does she know, she has caught his eye as well. Something is revealed one night, encouraged by a sudden splash of maroon.

"You've been awfully silent tonight," Aemond says, "and more so after Helaena went to bed. Is something wrong, y/n?"

Your fingers tighten around your wine glass, unsure of what to say. Perhaps you have withdrawn back into your shell when your best friend Helaena decided she was going to bed early. She is quite the lightweight, after all. A few sips of wine and she was out.

You didn't mind. But she left you here with Aemond, sprawled out on the expensive carpet in their living room. He gracefully leans against the couch, remaining poised. One thing you admire about him is the way he carries himself, almost with a sense of regal austerity that makes him intimidating to most people. Add that to the fact that Aemond is one of the heirs to the Targaryen business empire, the richest family in the city.

But for some reason, he is gentle with you. Treating you differently than he does anyone else. Almost with reverence. Helaena once joked that he shouldn't go easy on you too much, with you being tougher than you look. Aemond just laughed it off, but you stood there awkwardly, unable to hide the way your face grew flushed all over.

Your crush on Aemond Targaryen has only gotten worse since then.

"I'm not silent," you find yourself blurting out in a defensive tone, "I'm... just... nursing my wine, that's all."

Get your shit together, y/n.

A small smile appears on Aemond's lips, as he notices your increasingly flustered state, "Okay, I believe you."

"Good," you look down at your glass, swirling it around. What should I say next? What should I say next?

Aemond interrupts your nervous train of thought, continuing his sentiment slowly, "Because, you know, I would hate to think if there's anything wrong, or if you feel uncomfortable in any way. We are friends, y/n. I want you to feel that you can be free around me, as you are around Helaena."

He just knows the right words to say, doesn't he?

"I know," you respond, in a calmer tone that even surprises you, "and I appreciate that, Aemond. I apologize if I come off as aloof sometimes - "

"Don't apologize," he laughs dryly, "if there's anyone who knows what it's like to come off as aloof, it's me."

"True enough," you smile, taking a sip of your wine. You don't notice Aemond’s eyes follow your movement, fixating at last on the way your lips curve against the glass.

"Tell you what," he says, "how about we play a game? Break the ice even more and all that."

"A game?"

"Yeah, like, I haven't a clue... truth or dare?"

You gulp, your mind racing with the possibilities of what that game usually entails when played out, "I don't think that works with just two people, Aemond."

"Why not?" he slides a bit closer to you on the carpet, and your heart races ever faster.

"It just... it just doesn't!" you shrug, breathing out in a slight huff. He's so close. So close.

"I say it can work, y/n."

"Really, now?" you raise your eyebrows, "I'm not built for doing dares."

"We'll keep it simple. Nothing too ridiculous. And if we don't want to tell the truth, or do a dare, we just have to take three sips of wine."

"Hmm..."

"Or even soda, or water. If you prefer. I don't want to feel like I'm making you drink. Helaena would murder me if you get too drunk whilst in my company." Ah, Aemond. Always so considerate.

"I'm okay," you smile, "I'll stick with wine."

"So you accept my offer?"

You take a deep breath, in an attempt to steel your nerves. Before you can chicken out, and change your mind, you say, "Fine. Let's play."

"Wonderful," he smirks, "So, darling... truth or dare?"

"Truth," you croak, the way he addressed you as darling still echoing in your ears. There's no way you'll jump right into a dare.

"Okay. What was your first impression of me?"

"Oh," you rack your brain for an appropriate answer. One that can be said out loud in front of Aemond anyway.

"I, uhm, I thought you were polite."

"Polite?" he laughs freely, "glad to know I make that much of a lasting impression."

"I mean, not just that," you lean forward, "you were well put together, I guess. Quiet, but not shy. I got the sense that you know exactly who you are. You've got a strong sense of self, and as a result, you know how to take care of yourself, and your family. It's admirable, really." You also thought of running your fingers through his astonishingly silver hair, craving to know what it felt like, but he doesn't need to know that now.

"Hmm," he smiles softly, looking down, almost wistfully, "there was a time when I was quite different, you know. I was so insecure, and so angry. It's a miracle that I've grown into who I am now, but I am proud of myself for it."

Aemond is opening up to me? You get a sense of innocence with the way he spoke, and a sincerity, with all pretenses put away. Here, he is just Aemond, not this great heir or this renowned scholar. “That truly is something to be proud of,” you profess, “I, for one, am proud of the person that you are.”

His eyes light up as he looks at you, “That means a lot coming from you, y/n.”

“Does it?” you ask. Why would it? Since the first time you met, over a year ago, you have not had many lengthy interactions. The handful of times you were brought together, with only the two of you, were purely coincidental. Like this very moment. You did not expect to be drinking wine with him on the carpet tonight. You had actually considered heading home after Helaena went to bed, but Aemond took your hand, pulling you back down to sit with him, imploring you to please stay. Just a while longer.

And you are glad that you had.

“It does,” is the only thing that Aemond says in response, and as much as you want to press on, you decide to let it go.

“Okay, Aemond. Truth or dare?”

“Dare,” he takes a sip of wine. You think of how pointless the whole condition of only having to take a drink when refusing the challenge has become. You two continue to drink, either way.

“I dare you to… uhm, tell me something in High Valyrian.” You’ve always been fascinated by the Targaryens’ native language, them being originally from the faraway country of Valyria. It is truly a place on top of your bucket list, and you secretly wish that Aemond would take you there one day.

“That’s easy,” he smiles, then pauses, looking at you directly in your eyes. He takes a deep breath, as if mulling over what to say. Then you hear it.

“Iksā gevie.”

You swallow nervously. The way his voice deepened went straight to your head, making you feel slightly faint. You whisper, “That sounds… lovely. What does it mean?”

“I’ll let you figure that out on your own.”

You punch him lightly on the shoulder, your confidence gaining a significant boost from the wine, “Come on. Just tell me. What did you say again? Ikse gevya... gevy?”

He beams, amused by your pronunciation, “Iksā gevie,” he repeats, “Eek-sah gev-yeh.”

“Right, right,” you nod, taking another sip of wine, “Just you wait until I type that in Google Translate. It better not have been anything rude.”

“Oh, it wasn’t,” he promises. “Truth or dare?”

“Eh… dare,” you say, but you immediately change your mind. “No, wait, truth! I choose truth.”

“Are you absolutely sure, darling?” Aemond croons, tilting his head.

“Truth.”

“Alright, then. Are you seeing… uh…” he pauses, clearing his throat, “are you seeing any… any chance of you working for our company in the future?”

Are you seeing anyone? He had wanted to ask instead. Aemond internally kicks himself for pulling back.

You notice how weirdly he phrased that question. You choose your answer carefully, “Well, it’s definitely something I would consider. You know how much I admire your family. But, I don’t want anything handed to me on a plate. If I were to get a job there, I want it to be on my own merit. I don’t want you or Helaena or anyone to vouch for me, or put in a good word for me, just because I’m your friend.”

“I understand, darling.” He smiles at the determined way with which you spoke. His stubborn girl. “But if you ever need any help, I’m here.”

You reach out to squeeze his hand gently, as a sign of your appreciation, “Thank you, Aemond. You’ve always been kind to me.”

He looks down at your hand around his, and he clutches yours in return. When your eyes meet, you see that his gaze is so warm, so gentle. You feel as if you are being held. Like you’re safe.

You finally let go of his hand, “So, truth or dare?”

And so, the game continues for another half hour, the two of you growing increasingly inebriated by the minute. The wine glasses have been put to the side, the two of you opting to  take turns with drinking out of the bottle instead. You answer all sorts of questions from Aemond, such as “Which of the Targaryen siblings do you think should run the company?”, “Who’s your preferred drinking partner, Aegon or Daeron?”, and “Do you like my hair better short or long?”

You ask him your fair share, but one thing that sticks to your mind is what he answers to “Are you interested in anyone at the moment?”

“Yes. I think so.” He says, and you can tell that he is being honest. Your heart sinks at that. Of course, there would be someone who already caught Aemond’s eye. He is one of the city’s most eligible bachelors, after all. Women everywhere are vying for his attention. It only makes sense that he would eventually meet someone he truly liked.

“That’s great. I’m happy for you.” Your smile doesn’t reach your eyes, and Aemond astutely picks up on what you may have assumed.

“Darling, I - ”

You cut him off bluntly, not remembering that it’s his turn to ask, “Truth or dare, Aemond?”

“Hmm,” he stands, your question hanging in the air, with his hand outstretched for you to take, “come with me. I want to show you something.”

Taking the wine bottle, you stand and interlace your fingers with his. “Where are we going?”

He guides you out of the expansive living room, turning right at the end of a long hallway. He pries open a glass pivot door, revealing the private stairwell of their penthouse. Without a word shared, you climb up the flight of stairs together. One floor, two floors, three. Until you reach what can only be the roof of the high-rise building they live in.

The cool, midnight air is a refreshing assault to your senses. Immediately, you feel more awake, less drowsy from the wine. The rooftop is spacious and has been outfitted with a seating area, plenty of potted plants, dainty lighting fixtures that hang from the posts, as well as an exposed room littered with bust sculptures. The balcony stretches all around its perimeter, made out of ornately carved bronze.

“Wow,” you say, after taking it all in. “I’ve never been up here before.” You turn to look at him, and he seems pleased at your reaction. You add, “And you live here? Imagine. My entire apartment must only be a quarter of this rooftop, if not less.”

“Hmm,” he smiles, looking around, “I like to come up here to think. This rooftop is rarely ever in use, since my family all prefer to huddle downstairs. And well, Aegon’s afraid of heights.” He sneers at the end.

“Is he now?” you hand him the bottle of wine, “Remind me to bring that up the next time we see him.”

“Last time he was up here, he threw up over the balcony.”

“Oh, god,” Aemond laughs at the way your face scrunches up in disgust. “That’s quite a long drop. I hope he didn’t hit anyone on the sidewalk with it.”

“What a shame, really. That would have been the most interesting lawsuit.” Aemond remarks, before motioning with his head for you to follow him.

He reaches a plush seat facing the balcony, and the two of you sit in relative silence for a while. The whole city seems to be sprawled out below you, and the stars above also gleam much closer, like they are just within reach. Your wandering eyes take everything in with awe, but Aemond only watches you.

Instead of the stars, he thinks of how you are within reach. If only he would just let you know how he feels.

When you turn to finally look at him, you are surprised to see that he has been watching you. “Aemond,” you say, “why are you so nice to me?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, why are you so nice to me? From what I’ve seen, you are indifferent to most people. It can’t just be because I am Helaena’s friend, is it? You don’t have to treat me like I’m some fragile doll, you know. I won’t break, I swear.” Your voice takes on a sarcastic tone, and the corner of his lips lift in a smile.

He looks away, facing the tops of the buildings in the sprawling city that his family empire practically owns. Prince of the city, some people call him.

“I know that, darling.” He tilts his head partially towards you. “I like that you’re… different. I mean, trust me when I say, the crowd that the lot of us are exposed to tends to be entitled, shallow sycophants.”

“Bit harsh, Aemond.”

“Perhaps,” he smiles sardonically, “but anyway. I’m used to people only being interested in me because of my last name, or the family legacy. No one’s ever bothered to see me for who I truly am, save for only a handful of people. Because of this, I get quite protective of Helaena, since she can be overly trusting. She only chooses to see the good in others.”

“That’s what I love the most about her,” you say sincerely.

“Hmm, yes. But it also makes her more vulnerable. She’s had friends before, who were only clearly hanging around her so they might leech off of her higher status.”

“Aemond, I’m sorry to hear - ”

“But not you. I am aware that Helaena tried to help you before. Tried to get you a better apartment, or get you a high-ranking job with us. It would be easy, just like that. But you refuse, time and time again. You don’t mock us either, simply for being who we are, and having this much privilege. You see us as people, and unfortunately that’s a rare thing. I can tell that you truly care for Helaena, otherwise I wouldn’t let you hang around her at all,” Aemond smiles, nudging your shoulder, then drapes his arm on the back of the seat behind you.

“Overprotective brother much?” you taunt lightly.

“It’s an affliction I choose to bear,” you notice how he has leaned closer, his breath warm on your face.

You swallow nervously, “So, I guess you answered my question.”

“Partially,” he shakes his head slightly, “darling, I’ve got a long list of reasons why I like you, and that’s only scratching the surface.”

“Oh.” If you thought you felt faint before, then you were just about ready to pass out now. Panicking, you raise the wine bottle to your lips, taking a long drag. But when you pull the bottle away, you must have done it in a nervous rush, causing it to tilt in a way that wine spills out and splashes on your shoulder.

“Steady, y/n.” Aemond takes the bottle from you, setting it down on the stone floor.

“Fuck.” You look down and see the wine stain on your shirt, seeping wider, a shade of scarlet so deep it could be mistaken for maroon.

Suddenly, Aemond laughs. You want to act incredulous, or annoyed, but the sound of his laughter is so hearty and genuine. And so rare, that you find yourself smiling at the sight of his dimples deepening, and the faint lines around his eyes bursting free.

“What’s so funny?” you ask.

“Nothing,” he shrugs, shaking his head, “It’s just, at the rate you’re going with the wine, you could be giving Aegon a run for his money.”

“Ha-ha,” you dab at your shirt with your hand, but it doesn’t do much good.

“Come, I can lend you something to wear.” He takes your hand, leading you out of the rooftop.

“It’s alright, Aemond. I can just borrow one from Helaena.”

“She’s already asleep,” the two of you descend down the stairwell, stopping at the first floor below.

“I’m sure she won’t mind.” Where is he taking me? Must be the laundry room, or a guest room?

“I insist,” he declares, dropping your qualms altogether.

You come to a halt in front of a wooden door, painted a brushed forest green. Before you could ask anything, he holds the door open for you, “This is my room.”

You look at him expectantly, unsure of whether you should enter. He only smiles, “After you, darling.”

With your heart pounding in your chest, and the maroon patch still vivid by your shoulder, you step inside Aemond’s bedroom. It’s massive, predictably, just like every other room in this penthouse. The walls are a comforting, deep shade of forest green, just like the door. There are also accented panels of dark gray, to avoid a monotony of colour. The furniture is simple, clean, modern. Yet each one possesses intricate detailing. His bookshelf covers the entire eastern wall. His bed… well. You compose yourself, trying not to let your mind wander.

You feel him standing behind you, waiting.

“Nice room,” you say.

“Hmm,” you can practically hear the smile in his voice, “thank you. I don’t really bring anyone in here.”

“Oh, I don’t mean to impose - ”

“Stop. I asked you to come in here, y/n.” He walks over to a sliding door to the left, revealing a large walk-in wardrobe. Of course he would have one of those.

He disappears inside for a moment, before returning to you, a dark green sweater in his hand. The same shade as his bedroom walls. Hmm. Aemond seems to have an affinity for green.

“Here, put this on.” He hands the sweater to you. “This should be comfortable enough to sleep in.”

“Thanks,” you take it, feeling the material in your hands.

“No problem,” he continues to look at you, and you have to ask, pointing to the walk-in wardrobe, “Could I maybe change in there?”

“Right, sorry, I should have offered,” Aemond smiles, looking down.

“One second.”

When you gently slide the door shut, you lean back against it, taking the deep calming breath you’ve been holding in. Being around Aemond makes you feel as if your very skin is on fire. The attraction you feel for him becomes so palpable, making you somewhat a nervous wreck. There’s no need. Like he said, he is your friend, y/n.

You sit on the bench in the middle of the room, taking your shirt off. Hurriedly, you put on his green sweater, and he’s right. It is so damn comfortable. And it smells exactly like him.

“Everything alright in there?” you hear him from behind the sliding door.

“Y-yeah,” you say. Taking your stained shirt in one hand, you stand, and meet him outside.

He studies you, admiring the way his sweater hangs off your torso. “Hmm,” he remarks, as he always does, “you look better in it than I do, y/n.”

“Well, thank you,” you say sincerely, before adding, “but I have to disagree.”

“You look beautiful.” He suddenly says, the words immediately taking root in your heart, “You are beautiful.”

“What?” you croak, your voice coming out in an astonished whisper.

“That is what I said earlier,” he continues, “That is what iksā gevie means.”

“Oh.”

Aemond crosses the few steps needed to erase the distance between the two of you, plucks the shirt from your hand, and deftly tosses it to a nearby chair. Then, he takes your hands in his. He gazes into your eyes, and his expression is a mixture of longing and reluctance. He then traces your cheekbone with his fingers, delicately, as if you will crumble under his touch. And you just might.

“Aemond - ”

“Iksan jāre naejot vūjigon ao sir.”

You feel the urge to ask him what those words mean, instead you choose to simply let it be, and just bask in the sincerity in his tone. In the way he does not drop your gaze when he spoke them. In the way his hands slowly find themselves on your waist, pulling you close.

He leans in, slowly. And the whole world ceases to exist around you. The ringing in your ears becomes silenced, and there is only Aemond. You’ve always wondered what it would feel like, his lips pressed against yours. His devotion reserved only for you. It seemed like a dream, but now, it is well within reach.

But the dream is shattered when a heavy knock echoes throughout the room. Three, brief, raps on the forest green surface. That was all it took to break the spell.

Aemond’s brows furrow in frustration, his hands still on your waist. There is an anger in his voice when he calls loudly over his shoulder, “Yes?”

“It’s me, sir.” You recognize the intruder to be Criston Cole, the head of their family’s security team.

“Wait here, darling,” Aemond says, running his finger over your lips, over what he could have taken if you had not been interrupted.

Aemond opens the door, and you briefly meet Criston’s eyes from across the room.

Your presence in Aemond’s room seems to catch him off guard, but he straightens quickly, “Aemond, there is someone here for you.”

“At this fucking hour?”

Looking at you once more, Criston lowers his voice when he replies, but you hear it anyway. “It’s Alys Rivers. She’s waiting for you downstairs as usual.”

As usual. Alys Rivers. The famous model and socialite. You knew of her from the magazines, the internet. There have been tabloid articles of her and Aemond, but you knew better than to pay any attention to them, not believing that there could be any truth to such lowly forms of media. Or at least, that was what you assumed. But if she’s here, in this ungodly hour, then…

“I think I should get to bed,” you walk towards the doorway, “to Helaena’s room, that is.”

“No,” Aemond stops you in your tracks, grabbing your arm, “wait. We aren’t finished yet. I just - ”

“Your guest is waiting, Aemond.” You cut him off, not meeting his eyes.

“I’ll see you in the morning,” he says, while he tries to get you to look at him, but to no avail. You’re worried that if you do, you might not be able to leave.

Criston shuffles out of the way to let you through, greeting you with a cordial, “Good night, y/n.” You notice how there might even be a hint of regret in his eyes.

Each step feels heavy as you make your way down the hallway to Helaena’s room. Compared to how you felt, mere moments ago, as though you were floating on air.

Sleep doesn’t come easy to you that night, your thoughts racing on what might be happening down the hall. Who is Alys Rivers to you, Aemond? Why did she have to ruin what would have been a perfect night? Are you just stringing me along?

When you finally succumb to slumber, you fall into a dream.

Of who else but Aemond? Of who else but the one whom your heart desires?

Ok ok ok. This will be the last thing posted before part 5 of Heart on Fire. I think. 🤞

“Iksan jāre naejot vūjigon ao sir.” - "I'm going to kiss you now." - Aemond 🖤

Maroon just had to be multi-chaptered. It might be my favourite track from midnights.

Apologies to those who have sent requests. I do see them, but I'm just a bit bogged with uni/life at the moment. Hopefully will write a lot more soon!

Also, thank you thank you for all the kind remarks/messages. You guys are amazing. Any suggestions for part 2? Let me know in the comments 🖤🖤🖤

Aemond/HotD taglist: @aemcndtargaryen @cryztalline @fairaardirascenarios @blackravena @vensidia @xinyourdreamsx @mrswhitethornbelikov @mikariell95 @thermiting @witchofthenorthstar @m00n5t0n3 @booknerd2004 @throughgoeshamilton @xcallmetaniax @wrendermeuseless @m-indkiller @graykageyama @nsainmoonchild @milemarianne @immyowndefender @moonmaiden1996 @caspianobsessed @schniiipsel @thatawkwardlittlefangirl @random-human02 @icarusignite @flourishandblotts-inc @siriusdumblittlepuppy @just-a-harmless-patato @moni-cah @boofy1998 @huntycola @angel6776 @sanguinalia @thelastcitysposts @daeneeryss @wondergal2001 @huntycola

[dreeki]

ᯓᡣ𐭩.ᐟ ⊹ my best friend's brother. [part 1]

pairing: bsf's brother!jake x f!reader

warnings: loser jake(not so loser, i don't know how to write jake as a loser... sorry), sunghoon is jake's brother and a year older than him, jake and y/n are the same age

syn: your best friend is busy with uni while you start your senior year of high school. what happens when your unexpected study partner turns out to be his brother?

note: not proofread! hope you like it 🙌 leave your thoughts in the comments pls!!

☆ you and sunghoon became friends during your freshman year of high school, despite being a year younger than him. he was the one that welcomed you to the unfamiliar place and the two of you bonded quite fast. ever since then, he would always hang around your house and you spent almost all of your time with him, whether you were celebrating an achievement or trying to comfort each other. neither of you liked to talk about your families, feeling like the topic would sadden the mood, thus why the only time family had been brought up was when sunghoon mentioned that he has a younger brother that is currently living in a different city, due to their parents being split up, each taking one of the brothers to live with them. he rapidly showed you a picture of his brother, jake, but you could barely catch a glimpse of his face before the photo was snatched out of your line of vision.

fast forward to the summer before senior year, you and sunghoon were still close friends, not even noticing that the boy had graduated high school already, since his university was in the same city. you would still regularly hang out and chat daily until your bodies would remind you it's time to rest. many people wondered how the two of you were so close, yet weren't dating; neither of you have ever thought about it. your relationship with each other just wasn't that way. you were simply good friends and you had always been grateful for that.

two weeks before the start of your final year of high school, sunghoon told you that his younger brother is gonna move back in with him. "why now though?" you asked a bit confused. "jake said he found a really good university here and thought i'd be easier for him to move now, rather than next year" "oh.. yea, sure, it makes sense" and that was the last conversation on the topic.

assignments had started to get sunghoon stressed once the first year of university started. he was extra busy now, making it harder for you to communicate the same way you did during summer break. of course you weren't going to blame him; you could imagine how hard uni was and how it must be so exhausting for him, especially as a first year student. you were just a bit bummed that you hadn't had the chance to meet his brother yet. sunghoon mentioned that he wanted you to meet jake at a fancy dinner, so now you had to wait until your best friend was finally free from the hell that university is.

senior year wasn't as bad as you expected. yes, the teachers wanted more from every one of you, but it was honestly less stressful than what you thought it was gonna be. since sunghoon was currently drowning in books, you decided that spending more time at the library, studying, will help you a lot too; getting better grades and filling the hole left by sunghoon's abscence. it was also nice that you got to see the handsome face of an unknown boy every time you studied there.

the third week after school started, you could almost swear that your physics teacher was trying to kill you with the amount of homework she gave you weekly. that particular wednesday though, it was worse. you spent a few hours at the library trying to finish your work but it was just way too complicated for you to finish it by yourself.

that's when you noticed the handsome boy was also doing his physics homework; the only difference was that he seemed to know what he was doing... without even wanting to, you had been staring at that boy for a good 3 minutes now, thinking how god was so unfair. "why not me?!" you squealed before you could stop yourself. looking around to see if you had disturbed anyone you notice the boy looked up at you with puppy eyes, confused as to why you seemed so distressed.

he tried to get back to his assignment but your sighs and cries were a bit too distracting. that's when you were suddenly approached by the handsome stranger. "hi.." he awkwardly said. "i couldn't help but notice that you seemed to be struggling with your paper, no?"

damn it. now pretty boy knows you're not as good as you try to make yourself look. "haha.. yea.. physics just isn't my best suit, you know." "totally!" he looked so dreamy with his long brown hair and cute black glasses sitting perfectly on his gorgeous gorgeous nose; you felt as if you were admiring a sculpture. "did you hear what i asked?" huh?? what did pretty boy say? "haha" he chuckled softly with a slight smirk on his face. "pretty boy asked you if you needed help with your homework" the mortified look on your face looked like it was taken straight out of a horror movie. "oh no. i'm so sorry. i did not just say that out loud, did i?" "i'm afraid you did, but don't worry, i think.. you're pretty too" and that's when your brain started short circuiting.

"i'm jake by the way!" jake? like sunghoon's.. nahh. "i'm y/n!" "oh! pretty name for a pretty face" you looked baffled "wha-" "sooo.. did you say you needed help with that?" "yea.. yea.. that would be really great actually!" and that's how you got yourself a studying partner.

if only you knew what was waiting for you in the future...

a/n: thank you so much for reading!! 🫶 sorry for not making this only one part but it's actually taking me longer than i expected to write this 😭

[theglamorousferal]

Persephone's Binding Part 5

AO3 Prompt Part 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14

Jason woke from a start to someone pounding on his bedroom door.

"Jason!" yelled the sing-song voice of the High Prince. Jason shoved his head back into the pillow and groaned.

"Come in!" He yelled after raising his head again. He swept the covers off and sat on the edge of the bed, stretching his shoulders out.

Danny floated in, today he was in his other form, the one he showed the previous night. Unlike last night however, he was now wearing armor. studded leather armor stained black covered his torso, forearms and legs. Held around his shoulders with a stylized D clasp was a fabric cloak with black fur lining, the inside however looked like the fabric of reality. It was like staring into space when traveling with Kori, he looked away to not get too focused on it.

"So, did'ja sleep okay?" Danny asked flying in lazy circles around the chandelier near the ceiling.

"Like the dead." Jason deadpanned. He stood and made his way to where his usual clothes and armor were neatly folded, cleaned and mended. "We heading straight to spar, or do we have time for me to like, eat?" He took the pile of clothes and made his way to the bathroom, and kept the door cracked so he could hear Danny's response.

"We can grab breakfast burritos from the kitchen on our way to the training grounds."

"Okay, fine by me." Once dressed, Jason latched on all of his armor. He stomped out of the bathroom then gathered his helmet, which he held under his arm against his side. "Weapons allowed? And what kinds?"

Danny stopped circling the lighting and floated down to eye-level with Jason. He appraised him for a moment. "We'll start with hand-to-hand and see where you stand, we can move onto non-lethal weapons after that. I don't think Jazz would forgive me if we use projectiles against each other."

"Fair enough, lead the way." Through the corridors Jason was led once again.

"So Jazz mentioned you said the city you live in is cursed? What's that like?" He floated on his back facing Jason not seeming to need to pay attention to where he was going. The cloak billowed around him as if he were in water, galaxies rippling.

"Yeah, Gotham, home sweet home. It's a pretty messed up place. We've got quite a few rogues in out city, and then there are times outside threats come and try and mess with it. It's got the highest crime rate in the country, one of the rogues polluted the water with his special brand of insanity and now we have fish mutated to have a human death grin. That's not even counting the Lazarus Pit under the city."

"Lazarus Pit?"

"Yeah, bubbling glowing green liquid that heals those near death and kills those that are healthy. The Demon Brat's grandfather has one he's used to keep himself alive for 600 years. I was pushed into it when I was basically catatonic and came back with my mind and most of my previous injuries healed."

"Shit that sounds powerful. And another thing that could help in tracking down your dimension." He flew ahead to where a pair of yetis were looking over a scroll. He spoke to them for a moment before returning to Jason. "K that should help a bit more. So you mentioned something yesterday that I wasn't familiar, what's a meta-human?"

"Oh, they're probably called something different on your Earth. So it's people either born with the meta-gene or are powered due to their species or otherwise have extra-human powers. Like, my brother Duke is a meta because he has the meta-gene, but Superman is a meta because his species naturally has extra-human capabilities. Another hero, Beast Boy, got his powers from a lab somehow, he didn't give much details and I wouldn't share it anyway."

They went through a set of dark wooden doors and the delicious smell of chorizo floated past Jason's nose. In the kitchen was a woman who looked like the lunch ladies from school but floating, glowing, and with green skin.

"Hey Lunch Lady, how're those burritos coming?" Danny floated in, careful to stay away from anything cooking or on the counters.

"Oh hello dearie, I was just wrapping them up. I do wish you'd stay and eat a full meal." She said smiling at him. "Oh hello there, you must be the young man who appeared suddenly and set this castle into a tizzy. I hope you're doing alright?"

"Yes ma'am. I've been treated very well since I've arrived." He felt the need to be polite, she just seemed like a sweet grandma.

"Good good, now you two enjoy these and go play." She handed each of them a burrito wrapped in tin foil. They made their way out of the room.

"Jazz mentioned that originally the people studying ghosts thought they were all evil, but every ghost I've seen so far has been extremely kind and nice. What led them to think they were all evil?"

"Oh, don't be fooled, Lunch Lady gave me a run for my money several times. She was the first humanoid ghost I fought, she turned into a giant meat monster because my friend got the menu changed to vegan for a week. It was a whole thing." He rolled his hand. "And I mean, ghosts say 'Hi' by play-fighting. To be fair, I didn't know that at first either and it caused quite a bit of confusion. Once that bit was cleared up I was able to talk with my rogues and they backed off and made sure to keep the fights away from civilians."

"Right, Jazz mentioned you fighting ghosts. So you were a hero then?"

Danny sighs. "Yeah, once I started to gain control of my powers and defeated my first big ghost, I realized I could use my power to fight anything that came through the portal. I had the whole deal, villain of the week, a nemesis who later was redeemed and became a mentor, a cloning mishap, an evil alternate timeline, the whole shebang." He rolled his eyes. "I had the whole secret identity thing for a while too." He smirked.

"Oh, do you normally have a mask on when in one of your forms?"

Danny laughed. "No, no, just turns out face blindness is a common thing in my home town. Even though I'm literally just a palette swap, no one figured it out without me transforming in front of them." He turned serious for a moment. "The town found out in the last battle. It's been a bit of a learning curve for people to get used to." His tone turned bitter. "That the scrawny little Fenton kid could possibly be the town's hero? As if." He scoffed.

"Fenton? I thought your last name was Nightingale?" Jason asked. Danny froze mid-air with his eyes wide.

"Forget I said that, you weren't supposed to hear that. Do not mention it to Jazz." Danny's face was three inches from Jason's and glowing that horrible Lazarus green. He nodded.

"Will do, heard nothing, locked away." He made the motion of zipping his lips and tossing the key over his shoulder. Danny stared at him for a moment before nodding his head once and flying in the direction of a set of stairs ahead in the hallway. Jason jogged to catch up.

At the base of the stairs was what appeared to be a medieval training grounds with several paddocks, one paddock with obstacles for mount riding, one for racing, another had what seemed to be a military-grade obstacle course and yet another held a free-running course. Outside of the paddocks, there were several rings for dueling and weapon racks along the fences and an archery course along one side of the grounds. A green dome was above the entire field, presumably to keep projectiles from hitting passersby.

There were a few different mounts around. Some that looked to be unicorns but had sharp teeth like a predator, some had wings but similar teeth, all the horse-adjacent were colors from blue, to green, to black to purple. There was a large cat with long fangs and a pair of horns, it had a long fur coat that was patterned plum and lavender stripes sleeping in top of one of the lean-to's that held benches for resting. A mechanical horse with Egyptian regalia stood beneath it as it huffed not liking being ignored by the cat.

Jason whistled impressed. "Impressive grounds, reminds me of what I've heard of Themyscira." Activity began to stall at their approach, a tall black suit of armor with flaming purple hair came up to Danny.

"My liege, do you wish us to clear the grounds?"

"No Fright Knight, we are just going to use one of the sparring rings for a bit of the morning once we've finished breakfast."

"Very good." The knight nodded and then turned to the others scattered about the grounds. "Back at it you all!" Fright Knight went back to brushing his humungous black alicorn.

Danny directed them to one of the resting spots next to an empty ring. "Here, let's finish our breakfast and then did you wanna warm up?"

Jason sat and took a large bite as Danny was asking the question and thought for a moment before nodding and chewing. The chorizo burrito with egg, bell peppers and spinach was delicious. Once finished, he worked his way through his usual pre-patrol warm-up. He expected to go a few rounds before Danny was tired of playing with him.

Danny worked his way through some warm ups, stretching in ways even Dickie would flinch at, then made his way to the ring. Jason followed and they faced each other, and for the first time that morning, Danny's feet were firmly on the ground.

"So, best two out of three in hand-to-hand then we move onto weapons?" Danny suggested.

Jason considered for a moment. "Yeah, sounds good to me."

"Alright then," Danny smirked and got into position, "bring it on."

[starythewriter]

KINKMAS DAY 6- WOLVERINE X YOU- a peak-filled farm life.

Wolverine, he slowly shows you the way to an old barn that his family owned.

you smiled seeing the beautiful decor, and a Christmas tree…

it was all decorated for the winter holidays.

he said, “the tree is our tradition, my grandfather gave it to us when we first arrived here in America.” he explained as you looked around at everything else he had showed you today, you nodded, “that's really nice.” he nodded too, you then asked your question.

“What does your dad think about having such an elaborate tree?” he seemed surprised, and his expression turned confused at the thought of his father.

“My dad doesn't care much for Christmas, I'm sure if he didn't care I would have told you. ” he responded and took off from where he stood, taking your hand again he lead you further into the house. You noticed that the whole place was decorated with lights everywhere. You wondered how someone could get so distracted by the festive decorations that they forgot that the world wasn’t always like this.

It reminded you a lot of something you saw on TV, the snow covered cities of New York City were also decorated by lights but they were more subdued, the colors were different.

He led you to the living room where there was another table set up with two chairs. He gestured for you to sit down, you did, he joined you after sitting at the other side of the table. He began telling you what was happening, the Christmas tree was his favorite present since forever, he got his parents one as well for his birthday, and his brother got him one that was made entirely out of wood (and was quite expensive). He said he would show you later when you got back to his home.

but… you could feel some hot sexual tension building between you both as he spoke about the tree. His hands were resting on the table, you had your own placed in your lap as well, his long fingers intertwining with yours. Wolverine quickly kissed you, you moaned loudly, you saw his fangs grow which made you horny. you slowly rubbed your tits aganist him, moaning louder.

he pulled away, smirking.You both continued talking for awhile, eventually making your way into his bedroom, he pushed open the door with your backs pressed against it. He pushed you onto the bed and quickly went over to turn on the light next to the bed, he was now on top of you. He leaned down and began to suck your neck, while your arms were wrapped around his shoulders. You knew this was supposed to be quick, but instead it felt like he was sucking you dry.“I'm going to go slow.” he whispered to your ear.You gasped, “yes please.”He pulled away to stare into your eyes, you could see a glint of lust in his eyes. You wanted him so badly, he was only inches away from you, you could smell him, your lips were parted, you could barely keep yourself from kissing him again.“Are you sure? Because you look ready to explode.” he laughed, you couldn't help but laugh along. You both fell silent as he kissed you once more. He slid his hands under your shirt, cupping your breasts as he continued to kiss you, you moaned, he chuckled softly, running his thumbs across your nipples before pulling them. It caused you to whimper. You felt his grip tighten on your breasts as he continued to kiss you. He gently tugged at your nipple causing you to gasp, he smirked.“I want this moment forever.” he whispered, you nodded, “then make love to me.”“I promise.” he breathed before moving his mouth to yours once more, his tongue slowly stroking yours as his hands traveled lower towards your stomach.“Wolverine …” you murmured against his lips.“Yes.” he whispered against yours.You both pulled apart as you felt him slide his finger slowly inside of you.“Fuck!” you yelled, he grinned before continuing. You both laid underneath the covers for a while, still naked, he wrapped himself around you once more, kissing your forehead.“That's better, isn't it?” he whispered seductively, you nodded before nuzzling closer to him, he quickened his pace, as you moaned louder. “Wolverine!” you exclaimed as your orgasm hit you, you clutched onto his shirt as tears started rolling down your cheeks.His name was on your lips, he looked down at you.“Did you enjoy yourself, darling?” he purred. You nodded. “Good.

with this you both went to get some tea, at a near by storage place, it’s like right in front of the barn you thought…. and it was actually pretty chill you thought, you saw how beautiful it was, from what you could see it was remodeled into a nice little resting place for coffee, tea, and had some closets, with tools that were all perfectly organized.

you both walked in, making some tea and enjoying the farm buildings around you

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

(For your lovely rollo event.)

Rollo, how do you feel about children? Either just in general or perhaps.. if you would ever want to be a father in the future?

Like Fire, Hellfire.

“Children?”

He handled the word as though it were a skunk—innocent and harmless for now but primed to spray at the first hint of danger. A muscle in his face ticked. It was though he wished to shift into a different emotion but hadn't yet decided which one.

Handkerchief out, Rollo sucked in a breath through his teeth. The usual disgust or disapproval was not present in full force. Today, it was tempered by hesitance as he tip-toed around the subject.

"They have the capacity to be rambunctious. Like fire, difficult to tame. I’m not certain I can match their energy," he said vaguely. “The children in the City of Flowers are free-spirited, and that tends to result in acts of mischief. Whether their pranks and games disturb public peace depends on the time and place. I'm not fond of the instances when they do."

A slight grimace crossed his features. "There was once an incident when a boy blew hard into a magically charmed handkerchief, and the noise it produced startled the baker at the cafe I was frequenting. He had just pulled out a fresh batch of croissants from the oven. The croissants ended up all over the floor... What a waste of perfectly good food. The baker, too, was quite upset, as you can imagine."

"What happened to the boy?"

"Ah, him. He attempted to abscond from the scene of the crime. In his rush to escape, he paid no attention to his surroundings and collided with me." Rollo waved a hand. "The baker's rage was upon him in an instant. The boy was shaking like a leaf in the wind—he grasped onto my robes to keep himself upright.”

Rollo drew out a sigh that ended in a small smile. “I managed to smooth things over with the baker, though I also spoke with the boy and had him apologize. One must atone for one’s crimes—that lesson was surely instilled in him that day.”

"Aw, it was nice of you to step in and speak on behalf of the little guy." You found yourself smiling as well. Even though Rollo-san always has this stern air about him… "You really have a soft spot for kids, huh?”

His frown quickly returned. "No, I wouldn't say that. I was merely holding the boy accountable for his actions. Children can so easily be led astray without proper instruction and moral guidance. Who is to say he wouldn’t be a repeat offender if he was let off the hook?”

"Someone's in denial," you said in a teasing singsong. “It’s okay to confess that you’re good at taking care of kids, you know.”

“… I am not,” he insisted. “I am most content observing the children go about their simple days. I do not wish to take a larger part in their lives beyond that.”

A terrifying thought nipped at him from the dark crevices of his mind.

I don’t have a right to.

If his heart were a house, then a window had been thrown open, letting the outside in. A hole opened in the dark, and incriminating light rushed to fill it.

A flower of pain blossomed in his chest, its thorns driving deep into his flesh. The blood that rose to the surface was both hot and cold. Burning scorn, icy remorse.

A deadly duo.

Spiraling.

I wasn't able to protect the one that mattered most of all. My magic came too late. I'm in no position to be a big brother, let alone a father, a grandfather, an uncle, a guardian of any sort…!

I’m not worthy.

Rollo gritted his teeth. His soul ablaze, his mind jumbled with emotions running high. He pushed back with teeth and nails.

It’s not my fault. I’m not to blame!! The one who cast this flame is…!

“Rollo-san?”

You were staring at him, concern seeping into your eyes. Curiosity, too, had bloomed there. It was the same sort of expression one makes at a a stray on the side of the road. Sorry for it, but uncertain about drawing near to check its condition.

He gasped—realizing he had been making a most frightening face. Rearranging his features back into some semblance of calm, he cleared his throat.

“… Suffice to say, it is impossible in this current state of affairs for any child to grow up safe and free of sin. Around every bend and corner, there is temptation of magic calling out to them. How cruel!” he lamented pityingly. “The poor things, like lambs led to the slaughter.”

You shuddered at the gruesome image—human children like lambs.

Poor things, echoed your head. Poor Rollo, echoed your heart, thinking such things.

“Until I can bring about that magic-free world into fruition, I cannot commit my efforts toward any other endeavors,” he concluded. “A world without all the pain and suffering of this one… I intend to see my goal through to the very end. That is my utmost priority.”

A fairer world for all.

For the children.

For him.

[chaichaiiskai]

Need male reader smut asap pls maybe dubcon

hero hunter! garou x hero! male! reader x hero! stinger

notes: started rewatching opm with my lil' brother and got a cold, cold reminder of just how hot the characters are so y'know I had to write something...

warnings: dubcon, forced cuckolding, mlm, male reader, amab reader, garou is so mean and condescending, violence, mention of harming the reader, humiliation, public sex, degradation, alleys are dirty, quid pro quo. you're responsible for the shit you read so don't come and fuckin' bitch at me 'cause you're bein' stupid. this is meant for those who will enjoy readin' this, not you. move along.

STINGER never had a day off, but that was simply the life of a hero, especially during the recent rise of the monster association and monsters in general. The same thing went for you, never did you expect to be in the same profession as your future partner, but here you were. Despite your differences in ranking, you could care less, you weren't interested in the combat parts of hero work, you were a healer and restorer which proved to be useful in its own way. The hero association often called on you for healing other heroes, civilians, etc. You were also called for restoring destruction in the city, proving you to be quite a valuable being, but you never allowed yourself to do anything you didn't deem fair.

With the recent rise of the so-called 'hero hunter' you've been busier than ever, patrolling, restoring, healing, and all the fix-ins, nothing out of the ordinary. Though, today, the last thing you'd expected was to run into your boyfriend while out on your job. Funny, I know, since you're both heroes but this didn't happen as commonly as one would think.

"Hey good looking, what are you doing out here? Shouldn't you be back at home?" Stinger asked as he approached you. You were both smack dab in a neighborhood that still had a bit of people roaming around, it looked relatively safe. Rolling your eyes at his comment, you waved his words off while responding. "Same as you, the association wanted me to patrol around to heal and restore if necessary, they called me as soon as you left. So far nothing's needed much fixing."

The Class A hero grinned and rested his weapon on his shoulder as he continued to engage in comfortable conversation with you, occasionally waving at a few fans here and there who acknowledged him. You talked more like friends than lovers when you were out in public, well, except for Stinger's blatant flirting.

And then it happened.

You'd both made the mistake of letting your guards down and you would be forced to pay the price.

One second you were laughing and joking, and the next second you watch as Stinger is swatted away from you and into a nearby building like a mere mosquito, followed by the panicked screaming of the citizens around you. Everything moves slowly around you as you're frozen in place, a look of fear mingled with shock spread across your features.

"Two heroes standing leisurely around, speaking to one another like there's no immediate danger around them. Tch."

The assaulter speaks from directly in front of you, looking down at you with a grin on his face. The surrounding citizens run away from the scene, eager to preserve their lives. And in no time, it's just you, the hero hunter, and Stinger, who's just peeled himself from the dent in the building, his injuries were obvious but he wasn't Class A for no reason. He shouts at you. "Y/N! Hurry up and run!" He screams in urgency at you, knowing you did not like physical confrontation. His sudden shout seemed to trigger you into moving again as you speedily jumped back away from the one they called Garou, staring at him as you put distance between the two of you.

Immediately, Stinger gets between the two of you and holds up his spear, giving Garou a grin of his own as he gets into position for battle. "So you're the hero hunter, huh? I'll admit, you did catch me off guard but that won't happen again! I'll take you down in a pinch!" He exclaimed and charged forward at superhuman speed, using his Bamboo Shoot with great efficiency despite the bleeding heavily from his head. You watched as the two of them engaged in battle, your heart racing, egging your boyfriend on in your mind.

You should have run away like he said, but you couldn't, not with him injured like this, you would just remain in the area and heal him when you were given the chance. For now, you took to running away, ducking down into a nearby alley to watch the fight, crossing your fingers in hopes that this would end quickly in Stinger's favor.

It looked that way for a while, you could feel yourself becoming more and more relieved by the second, watching as Garou struggled against Stinger's attack, the human who called himself a monster didn't seem to be doing too well, having injuries of his own.

Stinger soon had Garou cornered, ready to further injure him to keep him from doing anymore damage, his signature grin still in place as blood continued to steadily run from his head and into his eyes.

"It's over now. Hurry up and surrender, hero hunter. You've lost."

He said, continuing to hold eye contact with Garou. The hero hunter held no smile, clearly injured as well but also seemed to be thinking deeply about something. It looked like he would be losing this battle, however, you knew that Stinger had the flaw of celebrating too early, and that was the case in this scenario.

"Oh? I'm not so sure."

Garou's words, despite him being yards away from you, sent a chill down your spine and you almost yelled for Stinger to watch out, but it was too late. The hero hunter moved even faster than before and you can't stop yourself from crying out in worry as he knocks Stinger unconscious with just a singular move, strong enough to send him barreling towards you. It was almost like Garou had planned this.

Stinger hit the ground, his body rolling across the concrete until he skidded to a stop in front of you, looking lifeless and mangled, his spear laying somewhere unknown. His eyes were closed and he laid on his stomach in front of you. With a shaken hand, you stared to reach out for him. You could heal him, he'd be okay. He HAD to be okay!

But that was too easy.

You were just mere centimeters from touching his back and activating your healing but you were dragged away, feeling as the back of your head was grabbed and your face was slammed into the ground with enough force to make you dizzy. You nearly vomited from the pain alone but were able to quickly heal yourself. The position you were in was humiliating, hunched over on your knees, hands pressed on the dirty alley in an attempt to support your body to keep it from having too much contact with the uncertainies of grossness. Garou continued to hold the back of your head, and you were unable to see him but he seemed pleased, grinning from ear to ear.

"Who knew the association had just a weak hero in their ranks, Restore." He said, saying your hero name with nothing but venom. This was how you were going to die, this was how you were going to die.

You couldn't even stop yourself from trembling in fear, droplets of tears escaping your eyes as the fell onto the ground beneath you. Biting back a sniffle, you decided to plea the best you could, your voice trembling with each word.

"Plea... please. You can do whatever- whatever you want with me. Just... just let me heal him, please." You begged, not even concerned about yourself at this point, you just wanted Stinger to be okay.

There was silence behind you, too long, too quiet. It was starting to eat you alive, you wanted him to say something. And before you could plead again, you heard him chuckle dryly before he spoke.

"So. It is true. The hero Stinger and hero Restore are 'loving' boyfriends. How comedic. Almost brings tears to my eyes." He paused, seeming to think of what could possibly done next. And the next time he spoke, you could hear the smile in his tone of voice.

"Okay. I'll let you heal him, but you've gotta do something for me in return, yeah?" You then felt a presence lean over you, slender fingers moving from your head to around your neck and gripping at your chin. Soon, his breath was felt on the side of your face, devilish eyes peering at you as he continued to grin, forcing you to crane your neck to look him in the eye as he continued offering his 'deal'. Looking into his eyes was proving to be difficult, his gaze shook you to your core with how cold he looked at you. But before he added onto the deal, he couldn't help but to laugh and insult you.

"Wow. Look at you! You're seriously cryin'? That's cute. Almost makes me feel bad about what's gonna happen next, but that power of yours will help you so I won't feel too bad. We gotta deal or not, Restore?" His eyes looked from yours and then to Stinger's unconscious body, observing the hero.

"Better hurry up. He might not make it."

He then turned your face, allowing you to see what he was seeing. Stinger looked to be breathing shallowly, further solidifying your growing fear. You had no time to refuse or hesitate. What was the worse thing he could do? You still had your powers, you were practically indestructible despite not having much strength.

"Okay! Okay! Do whatever you want!" You exclaimed, shutting your eyes, not wanting to look at your injured boyfriend any longer. Everything would be okay, you can handle this, you've been beaten up before, this was nothing new.

Garou didn't move from where he was for a few seconds but then he did, moving his hand from your face. You were expecting him to move you into a better position to beat your ass but that was far from the truth.

A yelp of surprise came from you when he suddenly used one of his hands to express his brute strength, ripping through the ass of your hero costume and your underwear. The sudden cold air hit your exposed rear and the underside of your sack, your eyes widening when you were starting to come to a realization about what was about to occur. But you couldn't move.

No.

You agreed to this.

Just like before, you were frozen, unable to move. The only thing that moved was Garou's hand, rustling with something, obviously his belt and loose-fitting pants. You had ample time to escape him when he suddenly let go of you to spit in his hand and wet his cock, but no, you didn't move an inch. How could you? He was faster than you, and who was to say that if you had disobeyed him he'd let you or Stinger live.

You weren't allowed to ponder for long when he suddenly pushed the head into you. You'd already been stretched out from the earlier morning's escapade with Stinger. He was able to push into you with both ease and just a little of bullying, he was thicker than Stinger but you somehow managed to keep taking him with ease. It was embarrassing, and of course he had to comment on it.

"I already knew I'd be getting sloppy seconds, but not to this extent. You two must fuck like animals."

His words cause you to shudder and he pushes into you further, stretching you out in a way that makes you confused. As he's burying himself into you, you bite your tongue until it bleeds to stop from moaning in pleasure and pain, closing your eyes as you drop your head in indignity.

Garou doesn't give you the chance to hide from your embarassment, his arm wrapping around your neck, forcing it against his bicep as he puts you in a loose headlock, forcing your face up as he remains buried deep inside you. His head moves back to beside yours and the intimate position your in fills you with a fresh sense of shame, almost as much as his cock was filling you.

"Ever since I read about you and your powers, I wondered just how indestructible you are. I wondered what would happen if I beat you over and over and over again. Would your powers be able to keep up? How fast can you heal? And then, I started noticing other things about you. I hate heroes and everything that they stand for but you're not a hero, are you? Just some overpowered nurse. I prefer that title instead of 'hero' for you." His words made your brows furrow, thoroughly confused by what he was getting at, though you did feel a sting of hurt from his belittling. Suddenly, he pulled out of you about halfway and then slammed back in, catching you off guard for the umpteenth time as you were lurched forward, choking when your windwipe hit against his muscled bicep, an involuntary whimper soon following.

"You're attractive, no doubt. But you're so weak—" He pulled back his hips and then pistoned them forward, fucking into you with animosity, emphasizing his insulting words with each thrust.

"Fragile."

"Useless."

"Breakable."

"Cowardly."

Each hit has you further confused, unable to keep your soft moans underwraps.

His words hurt, but why were you squeezing around him with each word? Why was your dick harder than a rock? Why didn't you want him to stop?

Easily, Garou catches on but nothing can prepare you when he suddenly turns his head to whisper in your ear, his warm breath causing goosebumps to blossom all over you, cock twitching in delirium.

"Oh? You like that, huh? You like hearing the truth about how useless you are? You should be ashamed of yourself. What if your poor boyfriend woke up and saw you gettin' off to this? Bet you'd like that too, huh?"

Apparently you did, seeing how you immediately clenched around him as soon as he finished speaking. Was this just your body's natural response?

You hear yourself moaning as he pounds into you from behind, skin slapping against skin at such an insane speed that you're starting to see specks of light in your vision. Your freehand moves to grip onto Garou's forearm, mainly to ground yourself, and you can barely breathe from the sheer pleasure of being fucked with such hatred and disdain. The dick is so good that you can't even keep your powers under control, healing the human who calls himself a monster without even realizing. You've healed someone during sex before many times, mostly Stinger, but not to this extent.

Eyes fluttering and rolling into the back of your head with each delicious stroke that makes direct contact with the button inside you that makes you forget your own name, you fail to notice the slight stir of the unconscious man in front of you. Garou doesn't though, in fact, he only goes faster, grinning at the realization. You should consider yourself lucky that he's still holding you in place with his arm, the headlock was saving your life in more than a few ways.

As you're getting your back blown out by the infamous hero hunter, Stinger, whom you were trying to heal just a few minutes ago, opened his eyes. Ableit he did so slowly, he blinked, attempting to have his vision adjust as familiar noises graced his ears. The sight that soon appears in front of him has him in pure shock, he hasn't an idea on how he should react. He wasn't prepared for it.

"Pleasure for you to join us, Stinger. Like whatcha see?" Garou questioned, not faltering in a single thrust. "

This must be a nightmare. That's what Stinger forces himself to think, watching in horror as his enemy has his way with you, and you seem to be enjoying yourself. But no, that can't be, this is just how the body naturally responds to sex. You didn't want this— you couldn't want this. Stinger wanted to move, but he couldn't, he was completely paralyzed, forced to watch you be repeatedly deflowered by a maniac with an insatiable need to cut down each and every hero.

Noticing his struggle, Garou only becomes more smug, but you still haven't seemed to caught onto the mess being created, more focused on creating a mess in your pants. "Aye, Restore, look who's joined the party? He doesn't look too happy. Aww, I think he's hurt." You can barely understand English right now, let alone whatever he was talking about, how could anyone have such power? But against better judgement, you blinked, trying to recollect your fuzzy brain as his words sunk in. And to your mortification, when you managed to fully open your eyes without them rolling around in your skull, you met the hurt gaze of Stinger.

Immediately, you attempted to speak, wanting to tell him why you were doing this, but you were cut off by the sound of your own moan when Garou pulled back and slammed into you with more force than before. Your mouth hung open, unable to keep itself closed, and you started to drool, eyes closing yet again as you forgot yourself.

Stinger watched and listened to everything in front of him, no words coming from him as he tried to take this all in in strides. Was he dreaming?

"Hah— think I'll use you... as a dumpster." Garou murmured, giving you no option when he suddenly started to speed up even faster, turning your poor brain into mush, drool dribbling onto the sleeve of his shirt. A few more seconds of this and you were forced to take his sticky, hot load, copious amounts of the human monster's cum spilling into you as he pushes as deeply as possible into you as he can manage, completely stopping his movements.

Once he's done, he releases you and pulls back, you fall forward, realizing that he'd been holding you up the entire time with his strength alone. And what you'd feared previously came true as you laid on your belly amongst the filth of the alley.

The hero hunter stands, pulling up his pants and redoing his belt, afterwards, he wipes his forehead of sweat. "Thanks for healin' me, Restore. I'll have to come back and find you when I get injured again. But don't worry, I'll pay you again. Later, 'heroes.'"

Garou then chuckled before seemingly disappearing with speed you'd never seen before.

Seconds, no— minutes later, what had happened sunk in and you felt shame like no other. His cum was still dribbling out of your ass when you finally regained the strength to lift yourself onto your hands and knees, avoiding Stinger's watchful gaze all together as you stared at the ground in disbelief. You'd done the unthinkable.. but, you quickly remembered your goal, slowly crawling forward to where your boyfriend remained laying. Shakily, you reached out and pressed your knuckles against his face, not wanting your dirty palms to come in contact with his skin, and activated your powers, healing him instantaneously.

Once he could feel his body again, Stinger immediately moved to sit on his knees in front of you. He spoke, but you couldn't hear a word he said as you leaned forward, the crown of your skull pressing against his chest. He stopped speaking and slowly started to rub your back in comfort as you sniffled, hoping that he could forgive you..but, then you noticed something strange.

Your eyes widened.

To your complete shock, Stinger's suit of bandages did a horrendous job of hiding how he truly felt about what happened to you.

Was he... hard?

[shardpencil]

Conspiracy theory time!!!

I know Odium's Champion theories are probably redundant at this point BUT i have one cooked up hot for you all. It's a long one.

Featuring Spoilers from all SA books and some minor spoilers from WaT previews..

Adolin will be TOdium's Champion!!!

Let's talk about it:

RAYSE VS TARAVANGIAN

I first want to draw attention to the differences between Rayse-Odium and Taravangian-Odium and their Champions. As the vessel of Odium has changed since Oathbringer, so must our perception of their chosen ones.

According to Hoid, Rayse was an awful person. He was cunning, ambitious, and often had selfish motives for wanting to obtain power and conquer the Cosmere. "Blackthorn" Dalinar made sense as Rayse's Champion, because as a young man, Dalinar's "passions" were selfishly motivated as well. Yes, he was helping his brother, but Dalinar did enjoy the wanton killing and longed for the feeling of the Thrill.

Taravangian carries himself differently as Odium. He has always been motivated by noble causes, such as saving his home city of Karbranth, knowing that he might have to do evil things to reach his end-goal. Even after he ascended, Taravangian holds on desperately to this notion that he alone has the power and willingness to reach the greater good in the end. I firmly believe that his pick for Champion must represent this very same philosophy.

BOOK EVIDENCE POINTING TO ADOLIN:

This first passage comes from WoR. Sadeas is talking about Adolin as he watches him duel:

We learn a few things from this

Sadeas thinks Adolin can be goaded into anger and is capable of making rash, impulsive decisions.

Adolin has less control of his "passion" than Dalinar. Plainly this means he has less self-control than his father. I also note the careful use of the word "passion", as it is used often in OB in association with Odium.

Now Sadeas is comparing Adolin to Dalinar--and not just Dalinar, but the Blackthorn.

What do you know? Sadeas proves himself correct by goading Adolin, threatening his family, and causing him to get angry and lash out. As Readers, we now know that Adolin is capable of extreme, impulsive actions--including murder--if the end goal is to protect his family.

I also think Adolin's wording here is very ominous "My father thinks I'm a better man than he is...he's wrong" Knowing what we now know about the kind of person Dalinar actually was in the past, the wording of this passage, in retrospect, reads eerily.

Then in Oathbringer,

He clearly has complex feelings around what he did. It's a little worrying that there was a part of him that actually enjoyed the physical sensation of killing Sadeas, but he at least has some shame about the act itself.

Interesting that he thinks of the sensation of stabbing right after thinking of his father, too.

Now we learnt hat Adolin doesn't feel sorry about what he did and says that he'd do "it again right now" (directly to Dalinar, no less). I think it's important to note here that he did it because "it needed to be done". He did it because specifically he thinks Dalinar never would, because he knows his line of thinking does not agree with his father's. In Adolin's mind, the destination was more important than the journey.

There was a part of him that was ashamed that he murdered someone, but that doesn't really matter--because he easily dismissed the whole act because it allowed him to achieve the optimal outcome.

Next, lets flash forward to RoW...

The passage above is from the last conversation between Dalinar and Adolin before Adolin leaves for Shadesmar.

This is where we start getting the hint that Dalinar sees something..off within his son. He says he's not disappointed in him, however, Dalinar's wording here implies that Adolin is not quite living up to his own expectations, morally (aka he's disappointed). This passage also reflects Adolin's words as he's killing Sadeas, when Dalinar says something along the lines of, "I want you to be...a better man than I was at your age." So many uses of the phrase "better man" are being thrown around specifically with Adolin and Dalinar.

This next passage I think is the most condemning. Here, Dalinar is placing Adolin and Taravangian in the same bucket, ideologically. Funny, since Taravangian literally becomes Odium later in the same book.

Shortly after this line Adolin does insist that he isn't like Taravangian and wants to carve his own path, however, his previous actions speak louder than his words and he certainly does not regret those actions.

I also think the highlighted line above foreshadows something darker in store for Adolin...in general. The consequences of this conversation did not come to pass in RoW, so we can only assume that it's going to go down in WaT.

Since the end of Oathbringer, anger has been building within Adolin, directed at his father.

Adolin recognizes that his own anger is volatile. He "doesn't trust it".

In the latest passages of WaT, Adolin reported that he assumed that his negative feelings would eventually wane, but he has instead become even more angry. I was a little surprised reading this, since it feels a little too intentional, too deliberate. Brandon is building up to something, but its not clear what that is.

What I'm thinking is that , this pain/anger will lead to an impulsive action on Adolin's part that he may regret making. He's already done it once before (though he had no regrets about that lol).

So Adolin has all this built up anger directed at Dalinar, and one of these days he's just going to snap, just like with Sadeas. I sincerely doubt Adolin would just straight up kill his father like he did with Sadeas, but I do think Adolin is capable of making some sort of stupid decision directly in opposition to Dalinar, in affirmation of his Consequentialist beliefs. Whatever this is, will likely be Adolin's downfall.

WHAT MAKES THE IDEAL CHAMPION FOR ODIUM

I fully think the optimal opponent to Dalinar has to have a few things:

Significance to Dalinar that forces him to NOT want to kill the champion and challenges his Idealism (this is the most important one IMO--this is the real "heart and soul" of the contest)

The capability to actually beat Dalinar in a fight

Significance to the audience (aka us, the Readers)

SO NOW ON TO THE CANDIDATES

A Fused

OC being a random Fused would make sense somewhat, however, this choice would be awful since they wouldn't have any meaning to Dalinar or us the audience. I think a Fused as champion would be such a letdown personally.

2. A Herald

Again, this might make some sense and would be a very formidable foe, but it just doesn't provide the emotional stakes for Dalinar or the Reader. A Herald as OC would likely not challenge Dalinar's existing ideology as strongly as some of the other candidates here.

3. Gavilar

This would be interesting. Brother vs brother would definitely satisfy condition #1, and potentially #2 and #3 depending on how invested he is. Overall, this pick just isn't giving enough of anything for me to support it. I just think we haven't gotten any evidence for this other than a faint ambition of Gavilar to become immortal and just being an absolutely shitty human being.

I think its theorized that hes somehow still alive, but IDK, there's just not enough evidence presently...and Gavilar just coming out swinging from the spiritual realm would be so bizarre. I love the stakes it creates between Dalinar and his brother though!

4. Moash

Yes, Moash has done some shit and works for Odium, but I think the only way he makes sense as Odium's Champion is if Kaladin somehow becomes Honor's Champion.

5. Gavinor

Probaby one of the more popular OC theories presently, because of that one quote from the WoK epigraphs.

“I hold the suckling child in my hands, a knife at his throat, and know that all who live wish me to let the blade slip. Spill its blood upon the ground, over my hands, and with it gain us further breath to draw. ”

This quote is often attributed to the Gavinor theory because it mentions killing a child. However, Gavinor is not "a suckling child"--he's older than that.

I think Gavinor as OC perfectly satisfies the conflict between Taravangian and Dalinar. Killing Gavinor would challenge Dalinar's personal worldview and force him to submit to Taravangian's. There's no way Dalinar will kill a kid, simply because killing an innocent child is wrong and there's no way around that within the confines of Dalinar's Idealism. Gavinor would also be easy to trick into making some agreement with Odium.

The only problem is, Gavinor is a CHILD. Dalinar could easily kill him if he wanted, and I'm not sure if T would take that chance, even if it means having Dalinar submit in ideology. I feel like each Champion must have at least some understanding of the philosophies they represent... Dalinar for Idealism, and OC for Consequentialism. Gavinor would not understand his role and the stakes involved and thus, I believe it would cheapen the whole experience.

As Readers, we are somewhat familiar with Ganivor, but whether he lives or dies to us is more of a question for Dalinar and the plot, leaving us to feel indifferent. We don't know who this kid is, and we haven't spent enough time with him to be truly emotionally invested in his fate.

6. Adolin

Adolin perfectly satisfies point #1. There is no way Dalinar is going to be comfortable with the prospect of killing his very own child. He may flat-out refuse to fight him, which would consequently void the contract and release Odium into the Cosmere.

(Probably inconsequential but, vaguely, I think the "suckling child" epigraph could fit Adolin. He isn't a child, but he is Dalinar's own child, and we even got a flashback chapter in OB where Adolin was literally a suckling child...anyway.)

Based on Adolin's recent developments , I believe he could champion Consequentialism (he's already teetered on the edge of it before in conversation with Dalinar). To reiterate, he is clearly the type of person to do anything, including murder, to protect those he loves. I could see Adolin and Dalinar's present argument turning into some big philosophical conflict that they'd have to work out on the top of Urithiru. The point here is that Adolin would actually be representing Taravangian's philosophy as his Champion, as well as challenging Dalinar simply for being what he is.

#2 Adolin is the best duelist in the world, and according to Brandon, one of the best swordsmen he has written (excluding Lan and immortals who have unfair experience). Unlike Dalinar, Adolin is a "regular person" and doesn't use any form of outright investiture. Dalinar on the other hand, does not wield a shardblade, and only has his Bondsmith powers. The match-up would be interesting to say the least: all magic vs all "physical". Opposing in fighting style as well as opposing in philosophy. I also think Dalinar would have a hard time winning if Adolin decided to go all-out for whatever reason.

Odium is going to want to make sure that if the plan to ensure Dalinar refuses to kill his champion falls through, that OC will not be easy to kill. This way, there is no possible way that Dalinar can actually win the contest. Adolin is the only opponent to Dalinar that can truly create this no-win scenario, making him the ideal pick over all of the others.

And #3... Adolin means EVERYTHING to us, he has been so many characters' rock, and he's been so important to us as the Readers. He's made us laugh and cheer and cry. Being in such a difficult position would hit so many emotional levels. This duel between champions is the one event these first five novels have been building to...I think that it has to pack one of the biggest punches Brandon has ever delivered.

OTHER THINGS THAT MAKE ME SUSPECT

Adolin isn't a Radiant. He's free real estate

He has death flags all over the place. Adolin is the type of character who means everything to everyone around him--his death or corruption would be the perfect plot device to ruin everyone's day and all their days to follow. Whether or not he becomes OC, i sincerely doubt he will make it through WaT alive.

I forget where exactly this is mentioned, but in the text Adolin says he was born "under the sign of nine". The number nine is associated with Odium and the Unmade.

Adolin seems to be associated with an Unmade, Ba-Ado-Mishram (BAM), in some way. Shallan, Renarin and Rlain will be looking for BAM during WaT, which makes sense because they can see into the Spiritual Realm, where BAM resides. However, Shallan reported seeing BAM in Adolin's shadow, which felt like a very intentional detail from Brandon. Odium's Champion has been known to have nine shadows...and there are nine Unmade. The Unmade seem to have a connection with OC as well, such as the Thrill and Dalinar. Adolin has slowly been "reviving" his deadeye Maya, and BAM had some involvement with the ancient Knights Radiant killing their spren and the deadeyes. There's definitely going to be some connection there. We also know that Odium's Champion can be seen from the Spiritual Realm, where Shallan, Renarin, and Rlain are looking for BAM and Adolin will have some involvement. Lots of suspicious pieces of evidence surround this plotline that I haven't quite pieced together, but they're there.

I would also like to point out that ADOLIN IS THE ONLY MAIN CHARACTER WHO IS A DUELIST. I personally see it criminal that he wouldn't be involved in this "contest" in some way.

SO HOW WOULD IT EVEN HAPPEN

He could get into an argument with Dalinar and volunteer to prove a point.

Similar to the first one: Adolin could volunteer...with the intent of killing himself or letting Dalinar kill him. I personally think this is the most interesting of all these scenarios

All of Adolin's built-up anger towards Dalinar could simply make him more malleable/easily tricked

Odium forces him into making a deal by threatening his loved ones.

Odium or BAM convinces Adolin that serving the side of Honor will bring the downfall of civilization and his loved ones. I'm kinda thinking in a similar way that the ancient Radiants and their spren abandoned their oaths and rejected Honor...but the full story has yet to be revealed here (which may happen in WaT)

I do not think Adolin will suddenly just "turn bad". If he does become OC, it will be because he is trying to be heroic, to do what he sees is the "right thing" and put the end-goal above the means to get there. Adolin has had disagreements with his father but he still loves him. And I definitely think Adolin is the type to be self-sacrificial, to put himself in harms way to let his father, brother, wife, friends, and the world live in peace.

Whatever ends up happening or not happening, there needs to be a lot of character work going on with Adolin to actually get to any of these points!

THE ELEPHANT IN THE ROOM

Obviously the problem with this whole theory is that it seems like Adolin is being set up to revive his shardblade, Maya, and become an Edgedancer. Personally, I think there's no room for Adolin to both become and Edgedancer and become OC. It feels like he's gotta go one way or the other.

So I'll just throw out some reasons why Adolin can't/shouldn't become a Radiant:

Every member of his family is a radiant--it's too redundant within the narrative.

Lift is our Edgedancer POV character, we don't really need another one.

Adolin works really well as a non-radiant

Even if Adolin revives Maya, does it necessarily mean that Maya will bond him and make him an Edgedancer?

Adolin is pretty expendable at the moment. What point is there to have him revive Maya with an unusual type of bond...just to die immediately?

To say the least, Adolin isn't a "journey before destination" kind-of person. He likely couldn't speak one of the most basic Radiant oaths.

Right now, Adolin-Edgedancer seems like a waaay more obvious path, which is why I'll say I am skeptical that it will actually happen the way we all think, especially since Adolin has this darkness within him that he still needs to address.

But, Adolin's train of thought does have a LOT of similarities to an Edgedancer's. He remembers those who have been forgotten--especially his mother and Maya. But you know who else "remembers the forgotten"? Yep, it's TOdium:

Lets look at the WaT interludes. Here, Taravangian-Odium is literally remembering the the children who died in some forgotten country. He also refuses to forget his old self, Taravangian, and let the shard of Odium consume him.

Note the similarity between the above passage and then the one below:

Both Taravangian and Adolin say that they feel like they are the only ones willing and capable of making "hard decisions" in order to stop the danger. This is the "dark side" that an Edgedancer, or any Knight Radiant for that matter, could never have.

Let's also explore the possibility that if Adolin does revive Maya completely and finishes that arc, that she will actually side against the current Knights Radiant...

"We chose!" were Maya's infamous words during the trial at Lasting Integrity. This confirmed that the Radiants and their bonded spren at the Recreance both willingly chose to abandon their oaths. The full reasons why they abandoned their oaths are still somewhat unclear. The Stormfather once reflected that it was because the ancient Radiants and their spren thought that by forsaking their oaths they would be saving the world.

There's no reason to believe that a revived deadeye spren such as Maya would actually want to reinstate those oaths upon revival or support the current Radiants in their fight. Maybe they would even side with Odium? If Honor committed some serious enough offense to have the bonded spren collectively on-board for suicide, it's fair to guess that they still wouldn't have a good opinion of him to this day.

ADDENDUM

I wrote the majority of this post before WaT chapters 16-17-18, so I'd like to add some additional evidence stemming from recent developments.

Let's start with some further conflict build-up:

Adolin takes this upon himself to fix this. Guess who also took it upon himself to save Kharbranth, who--only chapters ago--accepts the burden of saving everyone and fixing things?

This particular paragraph feels...unusually vicious for Adolin? Also, notice how similar what Adolin describes Dalinar doing is to what he himself did. Hear how this sounds when we replace one word, and it sounds like it could be an angry Dalinar talking down to Adolin:

"You always barrel forward. Doing whatever you want. Consequences be storming damned. Like you did years ago, killing Sadeas. And you never bothered to tell me."

One point Dalinar was particularly angry with son about was the fact that Adolin did not tell him that he killed Sadeas.

Adolin is so, so much like his father..and the version of him described here that Brandon is drawing attention to is, worryingly, the Blackthorn--the previous champion of Odium. Father and son are both hypocrites, but how can we be certain that Adolin will become the better man in the end, like Dalinar?

Interestingly, Adolin does recognize that perhaps his anger has gone too far. With the sheer amount of negative remarks out of Adolin this chapter, this felt like a welcome way of reeling in all of that. Yes he's mad, but he's not about to do something stupid...at least not now.

What I think Brandon is doing here is placing Adolin on this edge, where, to us, the character could swing one way or another--either Adolin gives in to his passion, or he learns to forgive his father. Teetering upon this edge, all Adolin needs is a push in the wrong direction (as Sadeas literally stated in WoR), and he can be brought to taking an extreme action. Again, this action doesn't need to be physically violent, but it will almost certainly be directed against Dalinar

WHY THOUGH?

Journey vs Destination is the heart of the first five books of the Stormlight Archive, and everything up until now has been leading to the infamous Contest of Champions. This duel doesn't need to be fought in a traditional sense with swords and sorcery, but what is important is that Dalinar and Taravangian's ideologies clash.

We understand Dalinar's side. Dalinar has a whole book about accepting the journey, growing to be a better person, and living his ideals.

We also understand Adolin's side. We probably cheered when Adolin "took out the trash" and killed Sadeas for the sake of protecting his family.

The point is that an Adolin vs Dalinar match-up will not just put the characters in conflict within the story, but it will also make the Reader stop and think about what they personally believe. With the contest painted in this way, both sides have perfectly valid points.

TO SUMMARIZE

Adolin is a Consequentialist, like TOdium

Adolin resembles an Edgedancer, but so does TOdium, so it could really swing either way. Plus maybe a revived Maya would side against Honor?

Adolin is pissed at his father, the alleged "Champion of Honor"

Adolin has a history of making rash decisions out when his anger reaches a breaking point

Adolin would be an ideal pick to challenge Dalinar's personal philosophy, he can hold his own in battle, and we care deeply about him...creating the perfect tragedy!

IN CONCLUSION

Adolin will be Odium's Champion, you heard it here!

THE AFTERMATH

So what happens next? I've been thinking about this a bit. What can be done with Adolin's character in the back five books if he does survive but has to live with the consequences of his shitty choices?

Adolin's present conflict with his father seems to be rooted from Dalinar killing his mother, which Adolin says he can never forgive.

In the next five books, Adolin is placed in Dalinar's shoes. Maybe at this point he regrets his decision, has to repair the damage he caused, and learns to forgive himself in the same way his father did (also--finally--forgiving his father in the process).

I really hope Adolin lives and gets to have his drink with Kaladin in Shallan. Maybe in Stormlight 10, they do get that ending :)

[luxtout]

Flames Unveiled (Chapter 2- Friend or Foe) Aegon II Targaryen X (Bastard Velaryon) Reader X Aemond Targaryen

Summary: After six years living away from Kings Landing, you and your family are summoned back, for reasons unknown. Your mother, Rhaenyra, has different plans for you. You swore to always protect your family, but at what cost?

Warning: Cursing, angst, violence, inappropriate language, talk of sexual activity (slightly)

Tagged: @faesspace

Part 1

"Y/N, wake up," Jace said as he gently shook you awake. Your eyes fluttered open, and you saw Jace standing beside your bed. Behind him, Baela, Rhaena, and Luke huddled by the entrance to your room.

"Jace? What is it?" You asked, rubbing your eyes and sitting up.

Jace's eyes appeared watery as he spoke, "Someone stole Vhagar."

You leaped out of bed, hastily grabbing your robe and tying it around your waist as you rushed down the hall. Your heart pounded as you made your way to the Dragon Pit, suspecting the thief would head there. Sneaking past the guards was no small feat, but you kept your eyes on the sky, searching for the dragon and its rider. In the distance, a roar reached your ears, causing the five of you to hasten your pace. You stopped abruptly as a figure walked out of the pit, your uncle Aemond.

"You?" Baela exclaimed, her confusion echoing through the cave.

"Me," Aemond sneered, clutching the reins of the dragon.

Rhaena advanced, anger radiating from her, "Vhagar was my mother's! I was meant to claim her!"

You watched in silence as Aemond locked eyes with you before turning to Rhaena, "I did it first."

Rage surged through Rhaena, and she lunged at him, landing a strike, with Baela quickly following suit. Aemond retaliated by punching the girls, sending them stumbling back with bruised faces. Luke and Jace launched attacks from the sides, managing to land punches, but they were soon knocked down.

"No, stop! Please!" You called out, hoping the guards would hear. Luke stepped back after Aemond landed a punch on his nose, blood trickling down as it filled his mouth.

Your blood boiled, and you didn't realize your fist was raised until it connected with Aemond's cheek. He staggered for a moment, then grabbed a rock, smashing it against your head. A freezing sensation washed over your body, and blood trickled down your forehead as you tried desperately to get away. Jace landed a punch on Aemond, causing him to turn away from you and struck your brother to the ground. Helpless, Jace reached for dirt, throwing it in Aegon's face. You caught a flash of silver and heard screams fill the air.

"Y/N, are you alright?" Your thoughts were interrupted when Jace spoke.

"Hm? Oh, yes, I'm fine." The wind rushed through your hair as the dragons glided through the air. You had begged your mother to travel to King's Landing on dragonback, arguing that dragon riders should always be with their dragons.

Breaking through the clouds, the city lay outstretched before you, rows of homes and businesses, with the Red Keep at its center, its walls towering high and flags waving.

"The dragon pit is over here," Jace pointed, guiding his dragon. Lyrax roared as the other dragons responded, each turning to the right.

"Yes, but it will be a sharp turn, and I don't think Luke is ready…" Your words were cut short as Jace initiated the turn. He landed first, although his dragon was somewhat clumsy. Lyrax was next, and you expertly guided him to hover before gently touching down on the stone ground. Luke and his dragon landed heavily, causing Luke to hold on tight to avoid being thrown off.

"Who goes there?" A guard rushed forward with a drawn sword. You quickly dismounted from Lyrax and petted him as he watched the guard, "Princess, I apologize. I didn't recognize you."

"No need to apologize, sir. But our dragons do need to be fed, especially Lyrax. He tends to be quite irate if not fed after a journey," you said, your dragon's growl made the guard step back nervously.

Your brothers appeared beside you, bickering and pushing each other as they walked into the training yard. The sound of steel against steel reached your ears, and you saw two members of the Kingsguard practicing drills. Their lightweight armor allowed them to move with agility as they sparred, thrusting and parrying.

You were captivated by their movements until one of the men got struck in the knee and cried out in pain. You turned away and noticed another pair attracting a growing crowd. They clashed and grunted with each thrust. It was clear that the Dornishman was fighting a man with long, nearly white hair. His head moved with precision, his eye fixed on his opponent, whom you recognized as your uncle, Aemond. He hadn't noticed you yet, but you hoped to keep it that way.

"Shall we go find Mother?" Your voice was low as you speed-walked back into the castle. People glanced at you as you walked, likely recognizing you. You reached your mother, who was talking to Daemon.

"There you three are!" Rhaenyra exclaimed, her arms outstretched as she took you all into her embrace. "Where have you been?"

You smiled as she kissed your head, saying, "We just landed, Mother. No need to worry." Your voice seemed to ease Rhaenyra's stress, and she hugged you even tighter.

"Good. I'm glad. Now, do you all remember where your bedchambers are?" You nodded. How could you forget? Your chambers were grand, with the most beautiful view of King's Landing, bathed in natural sunlight and moonlight, and far away from everyone else.

"Y/N, I instructed your handmaiden to draw you a bath. The Queen requests a family supper."

Nodding, you ascended the long staircase. The aroma of oils and candles enveloped you as you approached your room. Upon opening the door, you were greeted by the scents, and warmth washed over you.

"Your mother instructed me to draw you a bath and prepare you for tonight's festivities," your handmaiden, Mara, said with a smile. Her hair was neatly tied back, and she began to help you out of your riding leathers. With her assistance, you soon found yourself in the tub, being gently scrubbed with lavender oils and lotions.

Mara then began to scrub your scalp, and her voice interrupted your thoughts, "Your hair is so lovely." You had never given much thought to how you differed in appearance from your brothers. They had what your uncles referred to as plain features, while you leaned more towards the Targaryen's, with your dark purple eyes and the front of your brown hair tinged with blonde.

Emerging from the warm water, you stood bare as Mara selected your gown. The dresses on display were nothing like what you typically wore, replacing cotton with silk. Mara chose a dress – ebony black with crimson red designs. The red embroidery meandered up the sleeves to your collar, some patterns descending the bodice and skirts. It was off-the-shoulder and dipped down your chest, the kind a grown woman would wear.

You watched through the mirror as Mara weaved through your hair, now mostly dry. She braided the top half, wrapping it around like a crown, leaving the blond strands loose to avoid them getting lost among your chocolate waves. The rest of your hair remained unbraided, nearly touching your hips.

Several hours passed before Mara finally finished. Your reflection in the mirror took you by surprise; you looked like a woman. The dress felt revealing, and you couldn't help but blush at the thought of a man seeing you, making a proposal, and having children.

A knock at the door jolted you back to reality. "Come in."

With a click, the door opened, and Jace entered. He paused upon seeing you, seemingly lost for words. "You look..."

Hastening toward him, you cut him off, "Don't flatter yourself; we mustn't keep them waiting." You linked your arm with his and headed out the door. "I feel like I can hardly breathe in this."

Jace chuckled, leading you to the stairs, and you held up your dress as you descended. "How do women even breathe in these?"

Jace laughed, guiding you into the dining room. Guards were stationed all around, closely monitoring everyone's movements. As you neared the dining room, two guards stood waiting to open the door. The warmth of the room flushed your cheeks.

Rhaenyra and Daemon smiled but remained in their seats, while the Queen rose and approached you. You both curtsied. "Your Grace."

Alicent smiled as her eyes raked over you, and she escorted you to a seat. Helaena, Aegon, and Aemond were at the table as well. Alicent leaned in and whispered, "You look like a proper lady, dear Y/N."

A blush colored your cheeks as you took your seat, and Helaena grasped your hand, her smile infectious. Aegon seemed disinterested, pouring himself a glass of wine and turning away.

The King entered, and everyone stood up to greet him. He hobbled with a cane, kissing his wife and daughter. The dinner prayer was offered, and you felt the King's gaze settle on you as he mentioned something about blessings and your upcoming name day.

The dinner was served with roasted meats and various steamed and boiled vegetables. Maids moved around the table, ensuring that everyone had enough food. A girl filled goblets with wine, although Aegon seemed to have consumed three by the time everyone had their first sips.

You reached for some roasted potatoes, but Aemond snatched them away just before you could grasp them. Helaena, however, kindly replenished your plate from hers. Without hesitation, she refilled her own plate, and you couldn't help but admire her ability to enjoy her food. The wine tasted somewhat bitter as you tried to focus on the conversation around you.

Valyrian words reached your ears. "Ao jurnegon gevie tonight, niece," Aegon said, taking another swig of wine. You look beautiful tonight, niece. Your brothers didn't seem to understand as much, but everyone else was engaged in their own conversations. Only Helaena and Aemond could truly grasp the conversation.

"Ao jurnegon jomōzare tonight, uncle," you replied. Aemond chuckled, and Helaena smirked. You look drunk tonight, uncle. You could only endure so much of Aegon's drunkenness before he started acting obnoxious.

Aegon clenched his jaw, and his expression darkened. "Aōha ōghar, does bona sȳngagon vali qrīdrughagon?" Your hair, does that scare men away? He gestured to your blonde hair, and his eyes grew even darker.

You chose not to respond, instead turning your attention to Aemond, who was gazing at you while taking a sip of his drink. "Emagon mirros naejot vestragon?" Have something to say?

In response, you lifted your cup and took a slow sip of wine, momentarily forgetting about the food on your plate. "Daorun, nyke wondered lo ao jeldan naejot join aōha lēkia." Nothing, I wondered if you wanted to join your brother.

A slight smile curved on Aemond's lips, but he didn't laugh. He stabbed a piece of meat with his fork, biting into it as he continued to gaze at you.

The King's voice caused you to turn your head, "Y/N, my dear. Have you any tours?"

Rhaenyra spoke before you, "Well, we thought we push it back. She still has so much to learn."

Aegon moved Helaena aside, so he could whisper in your ear, "If you need to learn a thing or two, you know where my bedchambers are." Your eyes burned as he hiccupped and downed another cup of wine.

The conversation of your tour had escalated, until Helaena spoke, "May we be excused? Y/N and I would love to take the air."

Alicent, confused, nodded. Helaena's grip on your hand tightened as you made your way out to the courtyard. The guards stood along the perimeter as they watched over the both of you. The air was chill, bringing down the flush in your cheeks.

"I apologize, Y/N. Do not rush marriage, it is not all that it is meant to be. Aegon, he normally ignores me, unless he's very drunk. Though, even if he is, he never wants to... not that I don't mind."

Your chest ached. "I'm so sorry. It must be very difficult. How are your children?"

Helaena hummed softly, "They are perfect. When you become a mother, nothing else matters but the health of your children."

Heat rushed to your cheeks, and you stammered, "I fear I could never be a mother. I couldn't enter a marriage for duty alone without caring for the other party. I apologize; that was quite rude of me."

Helaena seemed preoccupied with an insect climbing on the balcony railing, whispering tiny riddles to herself while tapping her nail against the bug. She was harmless, and she was your only friend. So, you stood beside her, toying with the insect as the night unfolded.