#and tries so hard to keep up her hatred of him

[glimblshanks]

Re-reading Pride and Prejudice and I am once again in an absolute state thinking about how Elizabeth and Darcy coded Mariner and Ransom's whole relationship is

[adragonprinceswhore]

Soft & Hard

Aemond Targaryen x Ex Girlfriend

Summary: How do you forget about Aemond Targaryen when he’s everywhere you look?

Warnings: 18+, AFAB reader, she/her pronouns, angst, emotional infidelity, descriptions of self-hatred, situationship, intoxication, smut, heavy petting, drunk sex, P in V, (some) size kink

Word Count: 4000

A/N: This has been plaguing my mind for weeks now, so I really needed to get it out of me and into the world. This can be read as a continuation of my Hockey player Aemond drabble, but can also be read as a standalone. Aemond is a hockey player in this modern AU! 🩵

You prop your feet up to rest on the sides of your bathtub, angling the shower head just right so it hits that spot that sends pleasurable shivers rippling through your body.

Your eyes are closed, and you’re desperately trying to visualise the hot guy from the TV series you’d just binged; mind racing through any arousing scenario you can come up with.

It’s not an easy task; keeping yourself occupied enough to not drift towards the very man you’ve vainly tried to erase from your memory. 

You don’t want to think about him. 

Thinking about him always leads to missing him. 

It leads to longing for him. 

No matter how badly he hurt you. No matter how much you rationalise your reasons for leaving, your stupid heart yearns to fill the hole he’s left behind. 

Pathetic.

You shut your eyes with more force, thinking of the hot TV character. Upping the pressure of the shower head, you imagine it’s him going down on you that’s causing the pleasure building inside. Your hips begin to shallowly sway back and forth, and low whimpering moans slip from your lips. 

As the pleasure builds and builds, the image in your head morphs; the hot TV guys’ hair turns silver, no matter how hard you try to stay focused. 

You’re close, so close, and just as you’re on the edge of pleasure, you hear him,

“You’re so pretty like this”

And you cum so hard you drop the showerhead in your grip, legs shaking as your hips jerk upward aggressively. 

Water sprays across the bathroom as the shower head falls, but you’re too lost in your own bliss to truly care, giving yourself a moment to just disappear into the fleeting, fierce pleasure consuming you. 

After a while, when your legs have stopped shaking and your cunt has stopped clenching around nothing, you turn the rampant shower head off with a sigh. 

The satisfaction of your orgasm is short-lived, promptly followed by the lonely reality of you chasing pleasure alone in your bathroom. You could stay in the tub and make yourself cum 10 more times and it wouldn’t change the loneliness residing inside of you. 

You could try to picture that hot guy from the show fucking you for hours, still you’d feel the same. 

Still, visions of him would cloud your mind. And the chill of loneliness would penetrate your bones, as it does right now. 

Because no one kisses your forehead afterwards, or holds you tight, or whispers sweet things into your ear. 

You're alone, and the warm water quietly splashing around you doesn’t stop the cold porcelain of your bathtub from chilling your heated flesh. 

You shiver. 

Sick of yourself; of your self-pity and hatred, you leave the tub and throw on a dressing gown, already on a search for a new distraction. 

Anything to take your mind off Aemond Targaryen. 

Forgetting Aemond was nearly impossible. 

Not only did your mind remind you of your heart’s longing for the man that broke it. The world did as well. Like when you overheard your colleagues discussing his latest game, and how skillfully he tackled his opponents, landing a blow on them so precise yet hard that they flew into the rink. Or when you got home after a long day and turned on the TV, greeted by him giving a post-match interview all sweaty and panting. 

The only way you knew him. 

Being restricted to seeing the man you’d spent countless nights together with through the TV screen has brought you to the conclusion that ultimately, your relationship hasn’t changed much. 

Sure, you don’t send him nudes anymore. Nor does he fuck you into the mattress of whichever hotel room he brings you to. 

But the distance is the same. The loneliness isn’t new; it always existed between the two of you. He never really cared to let you in. 

You were convenient. 

Pliable. 

An easy fuck. 

You should’ve realised it sooner. Like that time when Alicent Hightower, Westerosi socialite and Aemond’s mother, stopped by one of his practices. You were helping him lace his skates when she appeared, and as soon as he noticed his mum approaching, Aemond’s large hand gently but firmly pushed you away. 

Ms. Hightower’s curious gaze had asked about you, and her son huffed out, “She’s an acquaintance”

An acquaintance. 

Not even a friend. 

To you, Aemond was the first thing you thought about in the morning, and the last thing you thought about before going to sleep. 

To him, you were an acquaintance. 

Pathetic. 

That should have been the last straw. But you kept seeing him. Not even the humiliation and hurt you felt as you excused yourself and ran to the bathroom with tears in your eyes could stop you from craving him. That was the power he had over you.

The power he still has over you, even in his absence. Even if you blocked his number 6 months ago and haven’t seen him once since. 

The actual last straw was a message you’d gotten from an unknown number, asking if you’d send more of those “hot slutpics in dat black thong”. For a second you thought it was Aemond having a laugh, but the message didn’t sound like him, and he isn’t exactly known for being a guy that appreciates humour, or ‘pranks’.

Turns out, the number belonged to Aegon Targaryen, Aemond’s older brother and notorious fuckboy. Word around King’s Landing was that every girl who’d slept with him had gotten chlamydia, and still he seems to find a new conquest to throw his arms around each weekend. 

Perhaps the sleaziest guy in the Seven Kingdoms.

Turns out, it runs in the family. 

You blocked Aemond’s number that night. After swearing to never let your desire for him get the best of you again, you begged your friends to take you out and get you so shitfaced the humiliation Aemond had inflicted on you would be washed away. 

It didn’t work.

You’re still tainted by his touch. 

So you switch tactics. You look for someone else. 

About a month after you’d called things off with Aemond, you thought you’d found a good replacement. A nice, inconspicuous guy who was eager to please; eager to make you like him. You would’ve felt guilty, really, if the dark hole of lonely self-hatred in your chest didn’t outweigh your selfishness. 

And still, Aemond Targaryen was everywhere. 

You’d find him in that adoring look your new partner gave you as you sucked him off in the shower. You’d find him in bed, when you couldn’t sleep and imagined it was Aemond’s heavy arms holding you tight. You’d find him in your fantasies, seemingly incapable of coming with your new partner unless you closed your eyes and pretended the short, curly strands greeting your hand between your legs were actually long, silky and silver. 

Ultimately, your conscience caught up with you, and you broke things off with the new guy as well. He had told you that he loved you, and the sweetest of confessions felt like the sharpest of needles prickling your heart. 

Aemond never said it. 

Oh, how you wish it was him saying it. 

Sometimes, even after six months of not seeing him, you’re still surprised by how incredibly piteous he’s rendered you. 

Yearning for a man who only saw you as a plaything. Who only ever cared for you when you were conveniently there for him to do as he pleased with. Who refused to expose your relationship to his mother, and shared your nudes with his brother. 

Fucking prick. 

Today’s Friday. 

Single and lonelier than ever, you beg your friends to go out dancing with you. It’s become your new weekend ritual; go out and dance until your feet hurt and you’re so tired you collapse on your bed, mind delightfully empty. 

Now, you're back on the dancefloor, drink in hand, eyes closed as you sway to the music. 

You always drag your friends to the same place, The Three Towers, a nightclub of the slightly more exclusive kind, with proper DJs and strong drinks. 

They must’ve figured out by now that it was Aemond who introduced you to this place. You see it in the pitiful looks they give you every time you insist on coming here instead of going to any of the many other places in Oldtown. Their eyes say what you’ve known to be true for over six months;

Pathetic. 

It’s not like Aemond likes to go out anyway. He hates crowds, dislikes strangers, loathes the fake people gathering around him to tell him empty words of adoration. 

But that one time you’d wanted to go dancing, he’d brought you here. 

Maybe he brings all his “acquaintances” here. 

You tell yourself that you don’t come here for him, that it just happens to be a great place, but still, every time you catch a glimpse of something silvery in the corner of your eye, dread punches you in the gut. 

Why do you seek him out when you know actually meeting him would destroy you? What if you saw him here with another girl? Maybe one of the models his brother so often gifts his infected cock to? 

Tumultuous thoughts swirl in your mind until you notice that the flash of silver isn’t Aemond’s hair at all, and ease settles over you. Well, something akin to ease. The self-hatred is still there,

Pathetic. 

Your feet quickly carry you to the bar, eager for more of the numbness only alcohol provides. You order another G&T and almost spit it out after the first sip; it’s basically all gin.

Good.

You take three large gulps and move back to the dancefloor, searching for your friends who you’ve lost in the crowd of intertwined bodies. 

You scan your surroundings, and then it happens again. A flash of silver. Only this time, it’s him. 

You remember the first time you saw him. TV appearances and watching him on the ice doesn’t do him justice. In person, his ethereal beauty’s blinding. Just like it is now. One of the spotlights over the sofa he sits on hits his hair, causing it to glow like the beacon of a dark night at sea. 

Calling you in. 

Your feet work by themselves as they walk towards him. You panic, desperately searching for any excuse to talk to him. 

What do you say? 

Suddenly you’re right before him, drink in one hand and the other nervously touching your hair as you dumbly stare at him. He looks up from the drink in his hand, a whiskey on the rocks you’d guess, and meets your eyes. 

His gaze is cold and stoic. 

Unimpressed. 

He raises an expectant eyebrow. 

And yet you say nothing. All the witty, insightful, hard-hitting truths you’d wanted to tell him for the last six months vanish as you stand before him frozen in panic. 

Pathetic.

Pathetic. 

Pathetic!

You have nothing. Your mind’s empty, the only thing you can do is feel. Feel the self-hatred, the loneliness, the insecurity he’s inflicted upon you. 

He rolls his eyes. Aemond’s not known for his patience, “If you’re looking for that new boyfriend of yours, he’s not here”

“I don’t have a boyfriend”, you blurt out, prompted by the shiver running through you caused by the venom dropping from his words. He sounds so hateful. 

He stands abruptly, forcing you to take a faltering step back as he tower over you,

“Come”

He takes the drink in your hand and places it on a nearby table before grabbing your hand and leading you out of the rowdy club. The chill of the night air hits your scarcely clad body as he drags you towards a cab waiting outside, your ears still ringing from the loud music in the club.

He opens the door and pushes on your arm to get in. His touch is still impossibly warm; just as you remember it. 

He slams the door shut and walks around to the other side, getting in and grunting an address you’ve never heard of to the taxi driver.  

You know your friends would be furious if they knew who you left with, so you send them a quick text stating that you’ve left ‘cause you didn’t feel well. 

You place your phone back in your purse and look outside. It seems like you’re driving towards the north part of the city, a place you hardly know. 

The deafening silence in the taxi is so tense, any sane person would ask the driver to stop and get out in a heartbeat. 

Aemond, sitting next to you with his jaw clenched and fidgeting with his customised black and red lighter, sends nervous ripples of fear through your being. You know he’s contemplating something, yet you wouldn’t dare ask. 

Any sensible person would get out. 

But you can’t. 

Because he still smells the same. And it’s everywhere in the stuffy cab. And your heart hurts, a tear threatens to spill, because you’ve missed it all so much; his smell, his hair, his voice, his touch. 

Him.

The silence persists, until you're finally freed as the taxi driver stops and Aemond hands him a few copper stars. 

You get out and take a deep breath of the late summer night's air. The buzz of alcohol still clouds your judgement somewhat, yet you feel more aware of yourself than ever before. 

You look around and see Aemond approach the entrance to a sleek building in that brutalist, modern design, and you follow in tow. He still hasn’t said anything, and neither have you.

You get in a lift, go up to the top floor, and enter a dark flat with only a small table lamp lit by the entrance, obscuring your view of the place. 

Just as you make way to move further into the room, Aemond hinders you. 

He doesn’t allow you entrance to the rest of the space, cornering you against a low side table by the entrance door. He’s so tall, and so broad, you disappear into the wall as he steals all the space around you. 

“Why did you agree to come with me?” 

He’s so close you feel his breath tickle your skin. It’s too dark to truly see the expression on his face, but the shadows cast on him makes him look stern. The smell of him intensifies. You feel warm.  

This is all you’ve wanted. All you’ve feared. 

You still desire him so.

“You told me to”

He’s quiet for a moment, and you know it’s because your reply’s caught him off guard. He’d assumed you’d fight back, jab at him in some way. He tries again,

“My mate saw you at that club last week, you know”

Is he keeping tabs on you? 

“What happened to your boyfriend?” 

How does he know about that? 

You swallow, “Nothing. It just wasn’t right” 

“Hm”

Your eyes are locked together, his mismatched gaze just as alluring as you remember it. Without looking away, he brings a hand up to gently stoke the cold skin of your arm. 

The harshness of his stare falters, 

“Did you miss me?” 

“Did you miss me?” 

The retort leaves your lips before you register it forming in your head. Can’t give in to him that easily. Can’t make your suffering known to the person causing it. 

The harshness reappears. 

“Did he fuck you the way you like?” 

His tone is cold, yet heated with anger. The same hateful tinge from before. 

Your drunk mind works without you operating it, 

“He wasn’t you”

The confession slips out, and so does the pitifulness. The loneliness. The pathetic mess you’ve become. 

Aemond didn’t expect your admission either, eyes narrowing in suspicion, 

“What do you mean?”

Is this the time? 

To tell him how utterly devastated you’ve been without him? How he plagues your mind? How your entire being is tainted by him? 

No. 

“Why did you bring me here?”, you ask, foggy mind finally cooperative enough to let you change the subject.

“Because you wanted me to”, he replies, the gentle hand on your arm suddenly travelling down to caress your exposed thigh before  harshly cupping your cunt. 

A startled gasp espaces your lips. 

His touch is so nostalgic it travels from your aroused core to your heart, and squeezes it painfully.  

His hand is big enough to cover you entirely, and with the heel of his palm, he pushes harshly where he knows your swollen clit lies obscured under your panties. His long finger taps against your hole, and he huffs a quiet, condescending laugh as he feels how moist the fabric is.

When did you get this wet? 

You feel the heat of his touch radiate from his palm to your cunt, so persistent it finds its way through your underwear. He only moves his hand to stroke you over the fabric and press at your clit, but the gratification of finally being granted his touch works you towards release at a speed you’d thought impossible. 

“Still a little slut for me”  

He brings two fingers up to press right over your clit, rough circles demanding that you obey his touch and come for him. 

His breathing hard through his nose, the look in his eye is hard to decipher, 

Arousal? 

Fury? 

Fuck it feels good to be pushed against a wall by him. To be subjected to his rough treatment. Anything to feel his touch on you again. 

Your hips move upwards to meet his fingers; you’re so close to falling apart. 

“You missed me. And that fucker you were seeing couldn’t compare to me. Isn’t that right?” 

He spits out the words, teeth grazing the shell of your ear as he leans even closer. 

Your arms have been hanging limply at your side, and you have to fight the sudden urge to grab him and press him against you. To feel him closer. 

“Did he make you this wet?”

Aemond’s tongue licks the sensitive spot behind your ear and you moan loudly, fully consumed by the way his fingers push you towards release. 

You angle your face so that his mouth is right by yours. With parted lips, you look up at him pleadingly, begging him to kiss you. 

Something in his eye shifts, and a victorious smirk breaks out over his face, 

“Come”

And you do. So hard you see stars and your legs give out. The pleasure is intense, it steals everything from you; your breath, your senses, your self-discipline. 

Your hands fly to Aemond’s biceps, anchoring yourself to him as your body twitches forcefully in the pleasure rupturing you. It’s cathartic; a long awaited release only his hands can coax out. 

When you come back to reality, to the dark hallway you're trapped against Aemond’s body in, the dreaded self-hatred you’d gotten to know so well makes itself known again. 

The brutal reality of exactly how far your pathetic infatuation with Aemond has driven you crashes over you like an ice-cold wave of regret. You feel hot tears well up in the corner of your eyes as they stay casted down, refusing to look up at the man who’s greatest pleasure in life seems to be to torment you. 

Why had he brought you here? Why did he enjoy hurting you? Why had you fallen for it? 

“What did I do to make you hate me so?” 

It’s the alcohol talking. Or maybe it’s the last thing you need to hear from him before you can finally let go. The last shard of your heart crushed in his grip. 

Silence is the only answer he gives you, and without looking up, you push him to move so you can get away from him. Instead of allowing you to leave, he brings one hand to your cheek, engulfing it in warmth, and drags your face upwards to meet his eyes. 

Before you can read his expression, he ducks his head down, letting his lips graze over yours. His tongue comes out to swipe over your lower lip in a slow, gentle caress that feels more sensual than anything you’ve ever experienced, and in retaliation your greedy arms pull him closer, eagerly kissing him back. There’s a slow urgency to the way his tongue seeks out yours, bending your body backwards to taste you deeper. You relish in it. 

You want him to eat you up. To devour you completely. You’re his anyway. 

Without breaking the kiss, Aemond leads you down the dark hallway and into a dimly lit room. The only thing you register is a large bed in the middle, where he takes a seat and keeps you standing between his legs, still kissing you. 

His hands roam over your body; over your exposed arms and legs. They find the zipper at the back of your dress and pull it down, slowly undressing you until you're completely bare. 

He stands for a brief moment to rid himself of his own clothes, and then sits again, guiding you to climb onto his lap. 

You follow his every command in enchantment. You grant him every kiss he seeks, allow him every touch he craves. He can have it all. 

He guides you to sink down on him slowly. You’re still so wet, yet he’s so hard your insides are forced to mould after his stiffness. 

Once he fills each part of you, he wraps your legs around his waist, sighing in satisfaction as he presses your body so close to his the skin of your torso sticks to his. 

“I won’t last long-”, he whispers into your ear, “-a 6 month wait is excruciating”

The touch that you’ve known as harsh and demanding is now so soft. So delicate it slowly picks up the shattered pieces of your broken heart and mends them together again with each gentle caress.

Your hands cup his cheeks, gazing into his lilac and blue stare as you slowly begin to move. 

Aemond doesn’t say anything, doesn’t say that one phrase that you want him to, but the look in his eyes is mesmerising. You’ve never seen him so vulnerable. It’s intimate.

He’s giving himself to you. 

You wrap your arms around him, accepting him. You want all of him, all to yourself. You’ve wanted him for half a year. You’ve wanted him since the first time you met him. 

He meets your hips each time you sink down, and the otherwise carnal pursuit for pleasure feels dreamlike as Aemond’s arms envelop you and you disappear into him. 

You want to say it, but not yet. You don’t dare. Would he retreat again? You know it to be true, but it’s too early. Maybe someday. 

Instead, it’s Aemond who speaks over the moans and sighs of pleasure,

“Don’t leave me again” 

You don’t know how long you fuck, but each orgasm feels more consuming, more powerful, than the last. Ultimately, you collapse together on the bed, legs and arms still intertwined. The familiarity of Aemond’s heavy arms over your waist soothes you, yet the soft sheets of the bed provide a stark contrast to the stiff, clinical sheets of the hotel rooms he’d always brought you to before. 

There’s nothing left between you, no more layers to shed, so you ask him about everything that had led up to your separation. About how he dismissed you in front of his mother, and about the text from his brother. The latter seems to genuinely surprise him, 

“I’ve never shared your pictures with anyone, especially not him” 

Guess Aegon Targaryen isn’t above snooping through his brother’s stuff. 

You talk all night, and Aemond tells you about his strained relationship with his family, “My family has an ability to ruin things for me”, he confesses, “I didn’t want that to happen with you”

As the rays of sunrise begin to seep through the window, you admit to the loneliness that’s been eating away at you since parting from Aemond. 

He cups your cheek again, thumb stroking your cheekbone,

“I fucked up. I’ve missed you more than I thought possible”

Your loneliness hadn’t been solitary. He’d felt it too. You’d shared it. 

You lay your head on his chest, listening to the slow drum of his heart. Before it lulls you to sleep, you remember the last thing you’d like to ask him,

“Aemond, where are we?”

“My place”

A/N: I never know if I should write it as come or cum? After some studious research (not), I decided that come is the original and therefore works better! Thank you for reading, I write these drabble for fun to improve my writing, so don't be too harsh please 🫶🩵

[jaylaxies]

ENHYPEN REACTION: to you being in the rival house at Hogwarts

PAIRING: enhypen hyung line x fem!reader

GENRE/CW: smut, slytherin!hee with gryffindor!reader, slytherin!jay with hufflepuff!reader, ravenclaw!jake with gryffindor!reader, gryffindor!sunghoon with slytherin!reader

WC: 4.7k words

WARNING: 18+ content, minors dni

A/N: hihi, my loves <3 this was requested by my anonnie here and i loved writing about enha and hogwarts omg! all likes, comments, reblogs are highly appreciated! it keeps me motivated! iloveyou all and happy reading <33

Slytherin!Heeseung x Gryffindor!reader

Trope: Headboy x Headgirl

Heeseung was beyond elated when he got his letter back at the manor, stating how he had become the head boy of Hogwarts. His family of pure bloods were even prouder, however, his cocky smirk dropped the second he met with the entirety of the prefectorial board at the Hogwarts express, prefect compartment to be precise.

Seeing you standing there with the batch stating ‘head girl’ was not something he wanted to see, not when you were someone who came from a non wizarding background, someone who was in Gryffindor.

How could they make you the head girl? How could they think he’d be willing to spend his time working with you of all people. His hatred for your likes was visible from day one, his taunts and threats didn’t bother you, and that’s exactly what bothered him. The urge to make your life living hell was his motto more or less, even more so this year.

“It’s absurd, man. Let her be now, it’s our last year here for Godric’s sake,” Jay huffed out, irritated that Heeseung couldn’t shut up about the new Gryffindor quidditch captain giving you too much attention despite your blood status.

“It doesn’t fucking matter, why do people like her anyway? What happened to keeping the muggles away from the likes of us?” He gritted his teeth, accidentally stabbing the piece of chicken too hard with his fork at dinner. The sight of you snuggling close to the said captain infuriated him more than he let on.

“Well, she’s not a muggle if she can do magic, and extraordinarily well at that,” Jay offered, having done with Heeseung being a dimwit and not realizing the truth behind his anger.

“Wow, thanks for the support, mate,” Heeseung rolled his eyes, looking back at you again.

He’d make sure to wipe that smile off of your face while taking rounds later—at least that’s what he promised himself. Taking rounds was probably the time he looked forward to the most, given that it was the perfect time to criticize and show hatred towards you.

However, the second you meet up at the staircase, telling him to divide areas since you do not wish to work with him anymore, he loses it. He completely loses it, scoffing and grabbing your wrist, pulling you into the room of requirement right behind you.

“What the fuck—” you tried to scream, but he was quick to cover your mouth with his hand.

“What? Can’t even look my way now that you have a quidditch captain chasing you around?” He scoffs, eyes full of hatred, the kind you had never seen before and it made you scoff.

“Well, newsflash, Lee. I never wanted to look your way from the very start. In case you haven’t noticed, it’s you who’s clearly obsessed with me,” you seethed out, not caring about the proximity despite your breathing getting heavier.

“Ah? Me obsessed with the likes of you? Don’t flatter yourself, darling,” he said, tone almost challenging, his hold on your wrist tight, just like the hand that was grabbing your waist now, making you gulp but not back down.

“So, it shouldn’t matter to you if I snog my quidditch captain, or more,” you whispered with a smug smile, feeling his hand squeezing your waist tighter.

“You cannot do that,” he warned.

“Oh but I did—”

You couldn’t finish your statement and nor could Heeseung control his actions anymore, pressing you up against the wall and shoving his tongue down your throat, kissing you in the messiest way he could muster to mush out all the sane thoughts coming his way.

This was the sanest he had felt in ages.

“You’re fucking mine,” he groaned against your lips.

“No, fuck I’m not,” you smirked, testing him further, loving how he had finally given in to the truth—that he wanted you.

The room of requirement was sly, preparing a bed as he pushed you on it, getting on top of you while getting rid of his robes, “oh, babe, I’ll show you who you belong to.”

“Took you way too long, Lee,” you chuckled, gasping the second he pushed your panties aside, feeling your wetness on his fingers with a smirk.

“Been waiting, eh?” He asked, cocky as he pushed two fingers in with ease, your back arching as you moaned.

“Talk about yourself,” you smirked, pulling him into another rough kiss, messy of all sorts as he sucked on your tongue, pumping his own cock by lubricating it with your wetness.

He wasted no time, in aligning himself to your entrance, pushing his cock in one go to bottom out, groaning at the tightness that squeezed him, thrusting almost instantly when he saw nothing but pleasure on your face with a promise to claim you his.

“Fuck, I knew you’d make a perfect whore, always so desperate for my attention,” he groaned, snapping his hips to yours, the noise resonating the room.

“You can’t even thrust properly, ah—” he sped up to shut your mouth, your toes curling as you held on to him for support, chanting his name like a mantra the whole time as he proved just how much and how well he can fuck you.

All night.

Slytherin!Jay x Hufflepuff!reader

Trope: Animagi Jay

It took him a lot of patience.

In fact, it took everyone in his friend group a lot of patience to keep their mouths shut for a whole month, a single mandrake leaf resting in their mouths. However, they wanted to do something iconic, which would be—turning into an animagus to cause trouble whilst being unregistered at that. The whole process was tedious.

Jay was losing his last bit of sanity, watching you smiling softly and being kind to others, which was a usual thing per se.

The only problem was how he couldn’t verbally bother you.

It was known to be his favourite pastime, inserting himself in your life and bothering you for existing.

Why? Because that’s what he should do, being a slytherin. He had a personality he needed to live up to, and he knew hell would break if anyone as much as gets a hint about Jay’s infatuation with you.

The solution? To make sure he says the meanest things so he wouldn’t have to see your smile. You don’t get why he’s mean to you. His hatred goes as far as it concerns you, and you’ve never seen him calling anyone else names but you.

So, seeing you being happy and not once thinking about him since he put the leaf in his mouth had his blood boiling, especially when you agreed to attend Slughorn’s party with a random ravenclaw boy. The same party he was gonna ask you to attend with him—or bully you into attending with him, but the smile on your face gets him mad.

He scoffed, ignoring the whole situation and focusing on the transformation process, completely missing the look of sadness on your face when he left without even acknowledging your presence, his mind deep in different thoughts.

Of course you’d be happy without him.

However, the success in becoming an animagi had him smiling. He was a big black cat—a royal panther, while his other friends turned into a bird and a dog.

He went out to explore the place in his animal form, getting out of Hogwarts castle to visit the black lake, not once thinking that he would find you here at night.

Your back looked peaceful as you stared at the lake, and he was silent as he made his way towards you, almost scaring you the second you saw a black panther settling down next to you, a gasp leaving your mouth as your eyes shined under the moonlight.

“Hi, I’ve never seen you around before,” you spoke up, fascinated, extending your hand to stroke his fur.

Jay didn’t expect this, and he knew he didn’t have to pretend in this form, making him purr with pleasure as you gently caressed him. He was a cat after all. The warmth of your kindness was driving him crazy, he so desperately wanted you to like him back, but he knew you wouldn’t.

It became a routine for him to sneak out to meet you at night in his animal form, and he adored how you shared all your secrets with an animal, talking to him, letting him rest his head on your lap and as far as kissing his head in adoration.

He was in love with you.

He loved how you welcomed him with a pretty smile, the same smile which he wipes off your face in his human form.

Everything was going smoothly, to the point Jay had even started staring at you between classes, not being as rude as he used to be before and you never hesitated on smiling back at him, ever so kind. He wanted to talk to you, face to face, and confess.

However, that plan went down the drain. The same Ravenclaw boy was seen standing close to you, a conjured flower in his hand which he presented to you with a wide smile while Jay watched it unfold with the nastiest scowl on his face.

So being petty, Jay practically shoved you out of the way, not looking back even after hearing a little “ouch” coming from your direction as you stumbled, ignoring when you called out his name, rather proceeding to the next class.

He didn’t see you there, and he tried not to act affected by your absence, assuming that you’d have gone with the other guy, relaxing when he saw you in potions class again, his eyes never leaving your face which looked distressed. Especially after you took a sniff of the amortentia, the love potion.

His heart lurched, wondering if you smelled the other guy. And in his case, he knew he was doomed the second he took a sniff and instantly smelled of your body lotion and your favourite delicacy. His eyes met yours that very second and he had to gulp, looking elsewhere to pretend that he was fine.

That night, with a heavy heart, he sat down next to you in his animagi form yet again, this time he found you at the astronomy tower, a bandage around your arm.

“Hey, love,” you welcomed the black panther, “it’s such a pretty night,” you sighed dreamily, petting the panther next to you.

“You mind if I talk?” You asked, chuckling when the panther nodded as if he understood what you meant, “I don’t understand boys. I really like this guy but he’s been mean to me to see. It’s pathetic, isn’t it? That I smelled him in the love potion and he’s the reason why I stumbled and hurt my arm—I just can’t help it, I wish Jay would like me back but he doesn’t even look my way without wanting to look away or just comment about how I’m just a weak Hufflepuff girl,” you mumbled, not focusing on how the panther had stood up all of a sudden.

Jay’s heart thumped, he wasn’t sure if he heard it right, but it was too much, he couldn’t wait anymore.

He transformed back into his human form right there, your eyes widening as you opened your mouth to scream, which he put a hand over to muffle your voices.

“That—that was you!” You whisper-yelled, shoving him away.

“Did you mean it?” He asked, grabbing your wrist which made you lean against the wall, “that you like me?”

You could barely breathe, biting your lip as you nodded, “I know you hate me—”

“Oh, you know nothing, baby,” he chuckled, grabbing your nape and pulling you into a kiss, making your eyes widen before he pulled you even closer, making you kiss him back eventually, getting fervent with your actions.

“Fuck, I like you so much. It was you who I smelled, in the love potion, I mean. I’m sorry for being an asshole, I never knew how to handle feeling this way for you,” he apologized, cutting the kiss and leaning his forehead against yours.

Instead of replying, you pulled him into another kiss, letting his hands wander all over your body, his self control leaving his body. He knew he had you now, and he knew he wouldn’t be letting go, especially after the little whimpers leaving your mouth the second he started kissing your neck after leaving your lips all swollen.

You were too sensitive, too forgiving.

Rubbing your thighs together didn’t help either, but the second he squeezed your bare thigh, you knew you were gone. It was the ideal place for you both to be doing this, but stopping wasn’t an option, not when he was so passionately marking you just after you told him you rejected the other boy.

Spreading your legs was easy, asking you to be a good girl and keep your voices at bay was even easier for Jay, and you obliged, your eyes rolling back as he lapped at your cunt, licking big stripes while fucking your cunt with his fingers, trying to be gentle but you were too pent up to ask him to go slower, only urging him to move faster.

That’s how you spent your night, he took you to his chamber, kicking everyone out shamelessly to fuck you into the mattress, his cock not having enough of you and your pussy clenching him, trying to hold him in for as long as you could before you both reached your high.

He knew he fucked up before but now that he actually had you in his arms, he knew he was going to cherish you forever.

Ravenclaw!Jake x Gryffindor!reader

Trope: Yule ball, fake dating

Jake was loved by everyone and he basked in the warmth of it. Being good in academics came naturally to him, he was a Ravenclaw after all. Adding to it, he was selected to represent Hogwarts at the triwizard championship, his fame and name more glorious than ever these days.

The problem? He had everyone’s attention but the girl who he claimed to have a tiny crush on.

He wanted to ask her to be his date for the Yule ball, however, the chances were slim as another Gryffindor boy named Heeseung, asked her right before Jake could even call out her name.

Jake wasn’t the only one suffering. You stood there beside him, watching the scene unfold with the same wrath in your eyes.

You wanted to go to the ball with Heeseung.

“Tough luck?” Jake asked, not sparing you a glance as you both watched him from a distance as they hugged gleefully.

“Talk about yourself, champ,” you crossed your arms, “she didn’t even think twice before saying yes,” you commented, jaw clenching, “she’s gonna get her heart broken, he’s gonna turn her into a situationship too.”

“What? We have to warn her,” Jake spoke, eyes widening.

“Oh, I tried, but she actually really likes Heeseung,” you huffed, “and here I thought I meant something to him.”

“Go with me,” Jake breathed out, finally looking your way, taking your beauty in.

“What?” You exclaimed, turning your head to look his way too.

He was beautiful, there’s no denying him. His hair was a bit on the messier side, lips pink and swollen from biting (he was nervous), and eyes full of hope.

“To make Heeseung jealous, of course!” He defended his statement and your eyes widened in understanding.

“Oh,” you let out, “so we’re doing all this fake dating thing, now?” You teased him, loving how his cheeks got redder but he only stepped closer, shrugging.

“We’ll have fun, you’ll get to be with the triwizard champion, it’s a win-win for you,” he offered, smirking and you smiled humorously.

“Sure,” you agreed, not paying attention to Heeseung who witnessed this interaction of yours.

It was easy to keep up with him, the rumours of you two being together spread like wildfire, especially with the Yule ball coming up, which only favoured you, granted that Heeseung had tried to approach you several times but Jake hadn’t left your side at all.

In fact, you were scared how easy it was to be in his company, “she wanted me to teach her how to ride the broom,” Jake had told you once, and he was one heck of a flyer, despite him not being in the team.

Naturally, you offered him to teach you that instead, watching how his eyes lit up and he nodded. Something about Jake was endearing to you—like how he helped you ride the broom with him sitting behind you. It felt real, too romantic the way he held on to you, smiling as he pointed out the various spots you could see from the height.

And you knew he felt it too, his heart pumping out of his chest as you rested your back against him.

It felt too real to him when you got him a tie that matched the colour of your dress, asking him to match with you, and he realized he had stopped thinking about the other girl completely as he helped you around with studies and you helped him feel alive.

Somewhere along the lines, you had forgotten that it was all fake, simply because it felt real to the both of you. The hand holding, the snuggling closer, the soft smiles on your faces, none of it was fake.

It didn’t hit you till you were on your way to meet Jake, only to find the other girl already talking to him in a corner, your jaw clenched at the sight of them talking about something you couldn’t make out from this distance. Your mind wasn’t sane as you stepped back and rushed to your own room, wondering if they had gotten together.

You knew it could very well be a misunderstanding, yet you didn’t do anything about it, especially when Jake didn’t come to meet you at all today.

You were slightly heartbroken as you woke up the next day, everyone seemed happy to the point they couldn’t stop talking about the Yule ball tonight, doing their hair and skincare already and you tried to join them, knowing that you can’t run away from it no matter what the situation would be.

Now, clad in your gown, you most certainly did feel better, looking in the mirror to find the prettiest version of yourself, you felt beautiful as you walked down the stairs, smiling gently when you found Jake waiting for you by the stairs.

His breathing hitched the second he saw you, eyes twinkling as he took you in, heart beating faster when you stood in front of him. It was magical how he took your hand, kissing your knuckles gently, “you look beautiful,” he whispered, your face heating up at the compliment.

So, you postponed asking him about the other girl, focusing solely on him as you were called for the first dance with Jake—the Hogwarts champion. He treated you well, he looked like the prettiest man alive, pulling you closer and dancing with you like he meant it when the rock band came out, but after a while, you stopped, pulling him out when he got you drinks to talk by some secluded area—a classroom nearby.

“I saw you guys talking,” you told him, admitting how you would be okay if he leaves you now and he how doesn’t need to put up this act anymore, making his heart lurch, “fuck—no! I asked her to stay away because,” he gulped as he met your eyes, “because I like you, not her.”

Everything felt rushed after, his lips on yours, your fingers in his hair, bodies pressed against one another as he messed up your lipstick, “I like you so much,” he kept mumbling between the kisses, lips trailing down to mark your neck.

He knew what he had to do—kiss every inch of you till you understood the depth of his words. He wants you so genuinely it makes your heart beat faster, his eyes full of earnestness as he comes up to kiss you again, but more than that, he wants to taste you, give you the pleasure you deserve.

Getting down on his knees was easy for him, getting under your gown even easier. You breathed in deeply when you felt him burying his nose in your pussy, pushing your panties aside to lick a stripe of your cunt, leaving a small kiss on your clit right after.

His movements were slow and calm, his hold on your thighs tight as he devoured you, seeming as if he’d be hungry for ages. You could have sworn you never felt this way before, gripping the table you were leaning against tightly, you tried your best not to fall down with how your knees were getting weaker by the second as his tongue was pushing around much faster than before.

“Jake—” you gasped, seeing stars as you finally came undone, your whole body felt as if it was on fire but Jake was just getting started with you.

Getting out, he looked more disheveled than ever, taking your hand and making you feel his hardened cock, “see what you do to me, baby,” he whispered, pulling you into another kiss, unzipping your dress as you cried about how much you need him.

Soon, your dress was on the ground and his body was connected with yours in a slow rhythm, full of lazy kisses and smiles, your face hidden in his neck as you bit him to conceal your moans when he hit that one spot which had your whole body weak.

You looked so beautiful, it made him lose his control, the sight itself had him twitching with the need to fill you up.

When you kissed him again, he finally let go, loving each second of it, knowing that you were truly his now.

Gryffindor!Sunghoon x Slytherin!reader

Trope: quidditch players, enemies to fwb

“Gryffindor! Gryffindor! Gryffindor!”

“Slytherin! Slytherin! Slytherin!”

The chants were loud, the crowd going wild at the sight of you and Sunghoon circling around each other before the game—something you always did as a challenge. It most certainly didn’t help that you were on par with each other, both chasers for your respective houses.

Watching you guys bicker was something everyone enjoyed, especially when it was about your houses and their reputations.

“You better watch out, Park,” you smirked, taking your position, “Slytherin is taking the win today,” you sang, watching his smirk grow.

“In your dreams, darling,” he whispered, winking at your right as the whistle blew.

The chants were loud and so was your motivation as you grabbed the Quaffle, successfully throwing it in one of the hoops as the crowd cheered. Watching Sunghoon scowl was a sweet treat, especially when you winked at him, passing by with the quaffle again.

The game continued for a while, your house leading by thirty points, much to Sunghoon’s dismay. You were having more fun teasing him rather than playing the actual game.

However, the second the snitch was caught by your seeker, Sunghoon got hit by a bludger, falling off his broom. You should have been celebrating his downfall (pun intended) yet you couldn’t help but worry, eyeing his figure while your team celebrated their win.

It was out of character for you to visit him in the hospital wing, but you did it, showing up with the pudding he liked—and you had no clue why you knew it. He was surprised to see it, looking away with a scoff, “why are you here, huh? To boast about your win?” He asked.

You rolled your eyes, “I came here to see if you were doing well but seeing as you can still work that mouth of yours, I’ll just assume it’s alright,” you huffed, leaving the pudding behind. Sunghoon gulped, watching you leave the hospital wing with a huff before eyeing the pudding and eating it, a sudden warmth spreading in his chest.

The bickering worsened since that day, because you had to overcome the fact that you showed care to him, your friends telling you to fuck the sexual tension out—which you won’t do even in your wildest dreams.

Sunghoon was just as furious cause he couldn’t stop thinking about you showing up at the hospital wing just to visit him, his taunts and that smirk annoying you more than ever now, you just wanted to punch him, or shut him up. It didn’t help that he looked awfully attractive with that smirk of his.

Fighting even during the dinner time was getting on everyone’s nerves, to the point you had to go to detention for pulling pranks on each other.

To diffuse this tension, he met you before the next quidditch match you had against him, “oh, ready to have your ass beat, Park?” You asked him with a mock smile.

“We’ll see who gets their ass beat, darling,” he spoke, invading your personal space by whispering in your ear, “let’s make a bet, if I win then I get to fuck you tonight.”

“What the fuck, Park?” You asked, eyes widened.

“You want it too, baby.” He says, a lazy smirk playing on his face, “besides, I won’t bother you ever again if I lose. So, do we have a deal?”

The deal was too tempting, and you weren’t sure if it was because of the fact that you’ll, (1) either be ignored by him or (2) have sex with him.

You grabbed his hand, shaking it with no aim whatsoever, you felt too lost but also determined to put up a good game.

However your mind was busy imagining his lips on yours, the smirk still present on his face, and that’s how you barely put the Quaffle in through the hoops while Sunghoon played with more energy than ever, awfully determined to win the match—win you.

The verdict? He won.

And as lost as you felt, you weren’t sad about it, in fact you were staring at Hoon who was celebrating, his eyes still on yours with that stupid smirk on his face which clearly said: you’re mine for the night.

Being in his room was crazy, the fact that he had successfully pushed out all his roomies was even crazier.

“Not fighting back anymore, kitten?” He raised his brows, his features looking sharper up close now that he had you under him, his weight on you barely giving you any space to move, his scent only driving you crazier.

“You’re the one who gave up, Park,” you finally whispered, pulling him closer by the collar with your usual expression full of mock, your finger tracing his jawline, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down, “you proposed the idea of fucking me—been thinking about me then?”

His fingers traced the curve of your neck, trailing down till he settled on grabbing your waist, “what if I have? What if I wanna see you shut the fuck up when I make you cry on my cock?”

“I’d like to see you try,” you chuckled, pushing your knee up to caress against his crotch, making him hiss.

It didn’t take him any longer to practically rip off your robes, attaching his mouth to your nipples, flicking them with his tongue as he cupped your cunt as a warning to shut your mouth, but you couldn’t let him win, opening your mouth to mock him again, only to have his tongue shoved down your throat, his fingers kneading your flesh, rubbing your wetness with all his strength to have you whimpering under him.

“I hate you so much, Park,” you mumbled, breathless.

“Feeling’s mutual, kitten,” he groaned right beside your ear, finger fucking you now as his thumb worked your clit roughly, yet giving you the kind of pleasure you never thought you’d receive.

You feel hot as the guy you hate makes you moan uncontrollably, stopping right before you were about to reach your high with his same stupidly attractive smirk when you whined out of desperation.

“What’s the hurry, kitten? We’ve got all night.”

© jaylaxies | tumblr

[solbaby7]

Make You Mine

pairing: azriel x reader

warnings: swearing, sexual tension, toxic relationships, possessive themes, violence, ( just a fuck ton of bad decisions babe, i can’t help it, live for a feral Az )

summary:

[ part one ]

—

Sometime after dinner, once the adrenaline and underlying excitement had quelled; you’d decided to keep Damien around. While proving to be generally horrible, he also perfectly filled the place of a pawn.

A pawn in a game that only you knew you were playing.

One that pushed the line of entirely too far when you showed up at training the following day with hickeys lining the length of your neck—the same place Azriel’s lips had pressed their kisses into at dinner. The same lips you’d pictured when Damien was putting them there, hands groping at your ass as he eased the hem of your black dress over your hips.

Azriel notices you the same time you spot Nesta, striding past the shadowsinger without a hint of acknowledgement but you could feel his eyes glued to the fit of your leathers. “I thought it wasn’t your place to be out here playing with swords?” Nesta drawls out, almost bored as her opponent shuffled out of the ring nursing a bruised jaw.

“If that’s the case, then show me where I belong, Lady Death.” You peer up at her and the five finger grip on her hip, practice sword held loose in her free hand.“Unless, you can’t?”

“I’m surprised you still have enough energy to bother,” Nesta gestures to her own neck and you subconsciously tug your shirt higher. “Long night?”

A slow grin grows at the corner of your mouth, hands bracing your weight to hoist yourself into the ring and briefly you all but preen when you feel the shadowsingers rage permeating the air. Toying with Azriel’s poor restraint never ended well but surely he wouldn’t actually kill anyone. Pride overwhelms common sense and you can feel the chill of his shadows slinking around the edges of the ring as if summoned; watching, listening. “Early morning.” Nesta’s grip tightens on the hilt of her practice sword with full intent of taking you up on your offer but when her lips part no words form.

Instead, she makes a noise, not quite a scoff but not exactly a hum either. “So, there is something decent about the company you keep after all.” You don’t take it offensively and you’re certain Nesta’s readying herself for more but it never comes. A brow raises, head tilting to the side but the silence makes sense when the towering figure behind you blocks the warm sun from bare shoulders.

“Actually,” The husky tone tickles the shell of your ear. “—you’ll be sparring with me today.”

“I’d rather not.”

Azriel’s hand curls around your arm, holding firm but not hard enough that you can’t break free if you tried—if you wanted to. You refuse his gaze, focusing on anything but him and his centuries of trained muscles stuffed beneath the fabric of his fighting leathers. He’d ditched the jacket, tunic too, both tossed in a heap near Cassian. Left in nothing but the sleeveless undershirt that leaves absolutely nothing to the imagination; broadcasting the sharp lines of his neck and the soft curls of inky tattoos that resided there. “You don’t get to make the decisions here anymore,” His free hand raises to cup your jaw, tilting your head to the side and he can’t fight his body’s natural reaction to snarl at the very thought of another man’s mouth on your skin. “Not when you keep proving that you make such poor choices.”

You jerk away from his grasp, twisting out of the grip on your arm and a foot smacks at the back of his knees. Finally looking at him—looking down at him, Azriel sees the fire in your eye; the hatred and anger. The betrayal at his hands and the person you had to become because of it. “You have no right to judge my choices.” It’s barely a whisper, concealing as much as you could with so many eyes watching—so many ears listening. “You mean nothing to me.”

“We both know that isn’t true.” Curse your body for reacting to his touch; warm hands sliding up to cup at your waist. The smell of him sinking into your nostrils and seducing every nerve like a walking aphrodisiac.

“I think I have feelings for Elain.”

The reminder snaps you back to reality, hand reaching out to smack him clear across his face. His eyes lower to slits, right cheek going red but you’re too pissed to even register the stinging pain in your palm. “Fine,” Azriel says too casually, jaw ticking with barely there restraint. “We can play this your way.”

It’s gone quiet save for the two of you, the others pausing their fighting to see the scene unfold, waiting to witness the spymaster make an example of you. Certainly, they must’ve forgotten that you’d been doing this since you were old enough to wield a sword; fighting males bigger than Azriel.

Fuck feelings when you had a point to prove.

“I’m not here to play with you, Az. I just want to fight.” It was a cheap shot; using the stupid little nickname to your advantage but his body always reacted so obediently to his name on your tongue. He’d just barely gotten back to his feet before you strike at him, throwing a quick succession of jabs his way in a style that he didn’t teach you.

Maybe all of those weeks away traveling the other courts after his confession had left marks that he hadn’t learned yet.

Something about you that Azriel didn’t know.

The very thought leaves him distracted a second longer than he’d have ever allowed if it was anyone else. He’s quick to recover, blocking and dodging, throwing hits of his own but eventually you grow tired of the refrained punches—the obviously subdued responses to your rage and it only adds more fuel to the fire. “If you aren’t even going to try and be a challenge then just yield so I can spar with Nesta like I planned.”

He hadn’t reached for his sword once, not a single finger twitched to grip at the daggers holstered at his hips and sure, hand-to-hand was fine but with Azriel it felt too close; too intimate. “Is that what you want?” He takes a step closer and immediately your face turns away from him, refusing to acknowledge him or that low tone he took with you and only you. “A challenge?”

“I don’t want anything from you.” Except to have been the first choice. One that he was sure in. Not second guessing if every special moment had only felt like that for you. “Not anymore.” The thought alone has your skin flushing with embarrassment, completely turning around to hide but Azriel just shifts to accommodate.

“You don’t mean that.” There’s worry etched in his brow, skewing the whole canvas of his face and it was like your soul wanted nothing more than to appease him. Battering and clawing at your bones, scrambling for the freedom soothe every line and give him everything he’d ever dreamed of and more.

“I want to.” Azriel watches the stone wall you put up, rounding up all that love and adoration, cradling at the sobbing affection that no longer had a place to call home. It takes everything in you to leave it all, to ignore the desire to toss aside better judgement and fall into the need. The softness in your eyes dies with the squaring of your shoulders as you retake your stance, regarding him as nothing more than one of the recruits. “Fight me or leave the ring—I don’t exactly have all day.”

For a moment, you think he’s going to leave. Forfeit and grant you a worthy opportunity but that is not the case.

You should’ve known better.

Azriel’s determination was a force to be reckoned with, skilled swipes of his sword followed by combat moves he only saved for the battlefield. A particularly rough strike is blocked but it still makes you stumble. “Is this challenge enough for you?” Azriel demands, swords interlocked, faces so close you could smell the minty scent of toothpaste on his breath. Golden eyes are piercing under the suns rays, barely concealing how impressed he truly was with the way you’d kept up. Swift and limber, light on your feet and efficient in every step taken but there’s a certain chaos to your moves—something fresh and unpredictable. “This right here,” The fight, the passion, the frantic thrum of your blood rushing in your ears from the pure adrenaline that erupted at the sight of him. “—is why we will never be over.” He’s not even breaking a sweat, syllables breaching perfectly kissable lips while looking like he belonged on a throne in the deepest chasms of Hel. “I know he doesn’t make you feel like this—not like I do.”

“Stop.” It takes more effort now; balancing keeping up that stone wall and maintaining your composure under his attacks. A deep breath to settle your thoughts and you completely drop your sword, effortlessly switching to something more hands on.

“Don’t you see that I can’t?” The restraint in his voice slips, a vein bulging in his neck and your fingers scream for you to reach out and trace it. “Not until you see that he will never be able to do for you what I can.” Azriel’s shadows swirl around your arms, clamping them close to your body as he pulls you into him—his chest on your back and those hands attempting to disarm you. Your breath hitches when you feel the trace of warm skin down the length of your holsters and the weapons fastened to them. A barely there that sends your body in a pure frenzy; one that demands all things Azriel until the end of time. “Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten what it felt like—you and me.” The stiff length of his cock pressed into the curve of your spine and it takes everything in you not to actually moan. “Just say the words and I’ll remind you. Right here in front of everyone if that’s what you wish.”

Do it. Your thoughts shout. Do it. You know you want to.

“I think I have feelings for Elain.”

Sharp jabs of your elbow to his abdomen. A hand that clamps down around the thick bulk of his arm and all that manly strength is used against him when he’s flipped right over your shoulder. Legs straddle at his waist, one blade shoved at his throat while the other pressed gently at his chest. “No, he doesn’t make me feel how you do.” You confess, breathless and your shoulders slump ever so slightly. “But, at least with him, I know I was his first choice. At least with him,” Your words shake and Azriel can’t handle the way you have to force the composure. “—I never have to worry about being second best.” The swords clatter to the ground, not bothering to retrieve them as you get back to your feet.

You’re nearly at the edge of the ring when he calls out, still on the ground and propped up on his elbows. “He doesn’t deserve you.”

“Neither do you, Az.”

[cvnt4him]

Emergency request bc I’m literally struggling so bad and feeling neglected as shit rn

ofc if you’re up to it pooks ik ur alr stressing over stuff and I don’t want to make it worse :(

Maybe some iida or monoma x reader that try’s hard to do stuff but always gets neglected? Thanks pooks 💕

I hope I got to this in enough time for you, I'm sorry for whatever you're going through n trust you're not making my situation any worse, you're actually helping me get rid of writers block so ty for this n I hope this reaches you well and is what you hoped for🫶🏽🫶🏽

mha boys x reader.

Included; izuku midoriya, kirishima ejirou, bakugou katsuki, tenya iida, monoma neito, denki kaminari.

Not in order.

Genre: angst? comfort/feel-good/fluff.

Izuku midoriya is none other than a saint. He helps everyone around him and he strives to keep his good boy/golden boy title. You admire him for that and you know others do, you also know one day he'll not only be yours but belong to the world. It gets to you but you try so hard to not let it.

When you two started dating no one knew at first, but izuku couldn't just stand by and let people not know that you were his. That he finally had a girlfriend who thought he was worthy of love. You truly felt that he deserved to be loved and he felt so seen with you, more than anyone else had ever made him feel.

Sooner or later after people found out, people began giving you such disgusting looks. Mostly girls you noticed. They would whisper about you when you were alone and look at you with mean and disgusted looks and they would laugh at you while you walked. No matter what you did you always had eyes on you. People laughing at the way you ate or spoke or dressed, it was draining.

You knew why it was happening and you tried so hard not to let it get to you. But none of that could even begin to compare to once your friends found out the two of you were dating.

You walked into the girls locker room to see all of the girls standing in a circle, you had already heard through the door they were having a conversation however you didn't exactly try to make out what they were saying. They all turned to look at you before slowly looking away to continue dressing, the silence had gotten rather too loud for your liking. They were just having a conversation before, why stop now that you were there? It bugged you the wrong way but you didn't want to make a commotion.

"so you and midoriya?"

Mina questions looking you up and down with a pointed look. She was one of your best friends, why was she looking at you like you're being investigated in a murder?

"uh.. yeah! We're dating."

You confirmed turning away to finish undressing. She hummed sucking her teeth and crossing her arms.

"you're dating him.. whilst knowing ochako liked him the whole time?"

She instigates, trying to get you to admit something. What the hell? Why would she say this? It's not your fault ochako didn't confess to izuku in enough time. It's not your fault he agreed to date you. It's not your fault he wanted everyone to know, so why was she trying to grill you like it was?

"look. I don't know what you're trying to get out of me, but--"

"just that you're a backstabbing bitch."

Silence filled the room once more as you scoffed clearly offended. She and the other girls stared at you with such disgusted and disappointed looks. You look around the room to see everyone staring at you with hatred and spite.

"are you fucking kidding me?!"

You ask around looking at all of them, there was no way they all hated you this much because you liked a boy.

"I mean.. you did kind of steal him off from under her.."

"you knew she liked him. Kind of bitchy."

"what about girl code, dude"

All the girls began saying their own opinions ganging up on you and practically eating you alive. They all shared their own fair share of mean words and side eyes before you finished getting dressed and slammed your locker shut making them all quiet down.

"fuck all of you."

You spat out while flipping them all off and leaving the room. You couldn't believe they're trying to decapitate you because ochako didn't have the balls to do what you did. Why does that make you a bad person.

The week started getting harder and harder as everyone, even some of the boys who knew ochako liked deku, started distancing themselves from you, al because of what mina would whisper in their ears, feeding them whatever she could pin in her web. And like the idiot fools they were, they believed her.

You were being neglected by your friends, all because you liked a boy. It began to be too much for you. Putting up this front for everyone who didn't even bother to see it or even your side of the story. You can't be happy with someone who has all these people liking them and making you feel shitty for also liking them. Maybe you'd have to break up with izuku.

When you came to him with this information he was furious. But not even with ochako or mine. With everything. The fact you'd been feeling shitty and didn't tell him and the fact you didn't tell him these people were bothering you. Izuku loves you more than he does himself and he isn't afraid to show that. He also loves his friends but he isn't going to let these people sit here and make you feel like shit because you're together.

He held you close that night, assuring you he wouldn't let this stand any longer. He was going to confront everyone for whatever they said to you and he wouldn't give a single shit about it. You were his and he loves you.

"I'm sorry for the way you've been feeling, love. I'm sorry that people have been treating you shitty and neglecting you because of our relationship. But you don't need any of them as long as you have me."

Tenya iida, one of the most compassionate hard working and caring people anyone has ever been graced to know. He is strong resilient and brave. He cares so much about everyone and it's so admirable. Some people see him as a wack job robot who just yells and screams or dotes too hard but to you he's perfect. An angel sent from the heavens above.

You've been working hard on something for a really long time. You hadn't told anyone about it because when you planned on it you wanted to also tell them the good news that would come with it. However that good news nevwr came. What you were doing wasn't good enough and it effectsd you deeply. Your grades fell, you started getting rather sluggish with your movements and you jardlt had the energy for anhone kr anyrhing.

Not getting the good news for what you've done was draining. It drained you to the point you wanted to break down and cry, yet nothing would come out. When people told you what you worked hard on, for so long, wasn't enough. It broke you, scarred you deeper than you could even begin to imagine. But tenya seen, he seen how you began to act, how you began to look more and more dead, how you'd began neglecting yourself. It was all too much for him to bear or watch you go through alone. He couldn't sit by and watch the love of his life perish.

Tenya held you in your dorm and let you cry on his shoulder for as long as you needed, having tissues on standby and rubbing your head gently. Placing kisses on top of your forehead and shushing you lightly as you both cuddled, he would be patient with you. He would wait until you were ready to talk or open up about what you were going through, but for now he wanted you to know you were loved and that he was proud of you.

"I love you, y/n. So much more than you could possibly fathom. I see you, and I am so incredibly proud of you. You are worthy and deserve someone who would move heaven and earth for you, I hope I am adequate enough for you."

Dating bakugou katsuki was hard. Not because he was an angry fiery shit head, but because he had such a burning passion for what he did. He never stopped striving and fighting to get what he wanted. He knew what he wanted and grasped at it and held onto it tight. It was nothing less than admirable.

The fact he could come back to you and tell you he loves you was admirable. He loved you and that meant so much to you. You loved him just as much and tried so hard to show up and be there for him. Through thick and thin, lows and highs, you wanted to be by his side regardless. He loved you for that reason alone, but he'd give you so many other reasons why he loves you.

He seen how hard you were working, how hard you were trying, how no one dared to even glance at you. He seen a faller bird that had potential and was worthy. Bakugou katsuki seen you. He wanted you and promised you he'd love you.

But for fucks sake, it always angered him to watch you get in such moods. To watch you neglect yourself and struggle with bad things. To put yourself under so much pressure and stress for no reason. When you'd cry your eyes out alone because you were tired.

He wanted to do so many things to you in that moment, but all his body could do was rush to you and hold you. He held you tightly, his fingers digging into the side of your hip. He buried his face in your neck and inhaled your sweet scent that always made him go feral.

You were his and he wouldn't dare let you sit here and feel shitty over whatever it was that was making you feel this way. He pushed and poked at every corner he could to get you to talk. Once you did he told you to shut the fuck up. You wanted to cry even more but you were sure he had reason to it.

And boy did he, he had such caring words laced with such menas things that were all wrapped in the cutest bow. He was emotionally constipated and had a hard time making people feel better. But watching him slightly struggle to find nice words to make you feel better while holding you close in his arms makes you feel so much better. Giggling at how he stammered over his words and how he tried to uphold a gentle voice to match the gentle strokes of his fingers on your side.

"look.. just. sigh. You're great okay. I love you and I'm not gonna just sit here n' let you whine n' shit for nothin'. Don't let whatever stupid shit is bothering you get t'ya. Or I'll beat yer' fuckin' ass."

Being kirishima eijirou's girlfriend was nothing other than a pure utter blessing. To be blessed with such an amazing caring and helpful boyfriend like him was genuinely a gift from the god above. He treated you like a queen who deserved to be worshipped.

It didn't take long for him to notice how hard you were struggling with things. He made sure before you got back to his dorm that it was all cozy and comfortable for you. One of the most romantic gestures he could have ever done for you. The way he had his laptop on his bed with so many plushies and comfortable pillows, and the fluffy cover he has and all the snacks you could ever imagine. He was nothing more than a blessing.

He held you tight and let you watch whatever you wanted, kirishima doesn't care about weight or anything like that, [yes I had to add this bit, bite me.] He loves training and working out with you, sure but he would never force you to do those things. He wants you to be nothing but comfortable with him and your body, so he would never shame you for how much you are or how you are in front of him. He loves you, all of you and he made sure you knew that. He kissed you and told you he loved you so many times. You fell asleep in his arms while he whispered sweet nothings in your ear.

"I love you.. I hope this could make you feel better. I will always be here for you."

Denki kaminari. Where to even begin with him. He was such a funny guy that it was hard to tell when he was joking or being serious about committing arson. He always made sure you knew that he loved you. He always hung by you and stayed by your side. He wouldn't ever tell you but he was a bit insecure. There were some things about himself he wished he could change for you, some things he wished he could do for you. He never intended to bring himself down but sometimes he thought you were this super cool goddess who was worthy of something more than a tiny little pebble like him. He felt like he was gum beneath your shoe.

Denki knew he wasn't good at a lot of things, he knew he could be dumb or even useless at times but when he seen how short you were feeling and how you would start crying because of how stressed you were he couldn't just sit by and let you feel this way.

He let you vent to him like you laid in his arms. He let you out face masks on him and let you do his hair or paint his nails or draw on him and just let your rant to him about all of your worries and woes. He wanted you to feel the way you made him feel so he tried hard to keep his mouth shut and listen. Whenever he'd notice you quieting down because you thought he was getting tired of listening he'd ask you "why'd you stop?" It'd make you feel so happy to have someone like him.

Finally after you were finished he decided to carefully pick and close his words to make himself sound just a bit smarter and more cool for you.

"hey...I'm sorry that you're going through this.. I wish there was something a bit more that I could uhm.. do? I don't want you to feel like I'm a burden but I promise you I'm here for you, if you ever want to vent like this again or just have someone to talk to, or-- or even just sit in silence with someone.. I'm here."

Neito monoma, he's quite the distinguished fellow. He always hated class 1A and he seemed to make his whole personality about just that. Or so you thought. You two getting together was not on your 2024 bingo. But he knew how to make you feel things.

He gave you butterflies by just smiling. His laugh was loud and carefree. He wasn't afraid to boast and brag about anything you did, he even did it in front of you. It was hard to feel insecure with him around. He wanted the world to know you were better than them, especially class 1A.

He would give you flowers or cute bows or just things he felt you'd like. He learned you and your every move well. He'd even practice certain conversations before the two of you have them. He felt you were rather predictable in an exciting way. A way that could never make him unlove you.

You being in a bad mood angered him, he confronted you about it and was so ready to beat someone's ass. With his words. But once you assured him why you were feeling this way his gaze softened. He grabbed you by your shoulders and pulled you into a hug. One that felt like it could last an eternity. One that you hoped would.

He sighed and just held you for a while and took it to his bed which led to a cuddle sesh. He rubbed your shoulder while you buried your face in his chest, he felt the way your breath fanned all over him and it made a shiver go down his spine.

You listen to his heartbeat and breathe in as much of him as you could, you were afraid if you didn't take all of him in right now he might disappear. Every time he kissed your forehead lightly or peppered kisses over your ear snapped you back into reality and helped you realize this was real, that he was real and was with you. That he loved you and would do anything for you.

"I love you darling and I hope you know just how much I do. I'm rather angry that you hadn't told me how you were feeling but I suppose I can let it go for now.. get some rest, my love."

AN: so I decided to make it a to character thing n don't even mind that I basically made a whole story for izukus... We all know how I feel ab him..

Also off topic and not that anyone cares but I'm thinking ab updating my masterlist yk? Js make it more aesthetically pleasing to myself. Also I wrote this all in one go, this took ab maybe two hours?????

[diorctrl]

hi hi !! if you’re taking requests, can you do enhypen x idol!reader where the reader is a host on music bank? thank you :D

MUSIC BANK HOST : idol!enha x idol! reader

𓂂 ˳ enhypen hyung line genre: idol au, fluff, different scenarios warnings: intentional lower case, im gonna split this up into two so maknae line coming soon

lee heeseung ( 이희승 )

୨୧ 𓂂 ˳ you’re apart of (g)-idle, both enhypen and your group had a comeback around the same time so it was bound to happen that your groups would do a dual interview together on music bank. to say heeseung knew about you was an understatement… you were his ultimate idol crush and you knew about him because you found him attractive and liked his groups music, that was it he wasn’t even on your mind like you were on his.heeseung being the fanboy of you that he is couldn’t keep his eyes off of you as you and chaemin did your introductions. he was so into you it was obvious to anyone with a pair of two eyes. he was so hypnotized by you that it seemed that he forgot the group that you were apart of the type of members you have.

“ah, yes.” yuqi starts she stood in the middle right beside heeseung who’s gaze was still on you, “I’m happy to once again spend an amazing comeback with my beautiful members, don’t you agree heeseung since you’re so captivated by my beautiful member who’s our mc.” yuqi turns to the boy smiling teasingly as everyone laughs and ohs at her comment towards heeseung who shakes his head in shock at the girl’s confidence to say such a thing. “oh! so you don’t find her beautiful?” yuqi says loudly at the boys head shakes the laughs becoming louder, heeseung opens his mouth to protest but is cut off by your voice, “you don’t find me beautiful?” you join in on the teasing, oh how he wanted to die. but hey, this embarrassing situation of his is how he ended up bumping into you in the hallways and gaining to courage to ask for your number and to clarify that he finds you very beautiful.

park jongseong ( 박종성 )

୨୧ 𓂂 ˳ you’re apart of lesserafim, you and jay hated each other. he didn’t know when it started but he’s pretty sure it was when both of you were trainees, you and him were always at each others necks and that hatred has been going strong from trainee days to the present with both you and him being members of super successful groups of your generation. it was definitely a shock to jay when chaemin asked him to fill in for him for music bank, he agreed of course but was still very shocked. what shocked him even more is instead of seeing eunchae wearing a matching outfit with him he saw you. isn’t it just such a coincidence that both music bank hosts wouldn’t be able to do the show? turns out eunchae was “sick” before you and him could go at each other it was already time to host and to say there was tension between the two of you was an understatement. every group and soloist that the both of you interviewed could feel it as well and your scripts made everything so much more entertaining.

“do I look handsome?” jay asked, reading off of his script he cringed slightly before showing off his outfit to you who covered your face with your cue card. “uh..” you responded as looked at your cue card that told you to agree and say that he does look handsome but instead you burst out in laughter. jay tried his hardest to stay in character but your laugh made it so hard, “are you ok-” he couldn’t get through his sentence before he’s cutting himself off with his own laughter, it’s funny that this situation is what broke the tension and got the two of you to be comfortable with each other the rest of the show.

sim jaeyun ( 심재윤 )

୨୧ 𓂂 ˳ you’re a famous actress, that was known for your role on the glory as young yeonjin. you were definitely a beauty but you played your role so well that it had some people either hate you or utterly terrified of you. jake was one of the people that were utterly terrified of you, in his mind there was no way you were that good of actor to play that role so well. so when jake found out that you were one of the new music bank hosts, he had to mentally prepare himself to face you, the boys told him that he was being ridicules but jake was sure that you were a demon spawn so with that being said jake was shook when he had to stand so close to said demon spawn. seeing you up close was even worse especially since you were so pretty, it’s always the pretty ones is all jake could say to himself. the whole interview he wasn’t buying this bubbly personality that you had going on there was you had to be just putting this on for the cameras, that was until you bumped into him in the halls.

“oh my gosh!” you exclaim at him, smiling brightly as jake looks at you confused, “I was looking for you.” you say walking closer to him. “looking for me?” he asks, “yeah, I love your group and you’re my bias, I was wondering if you could sign my photo card?” jake looks at you in shock for a while, are you really this bubbly and not a demon spawn?, “uh yeah sure.” he hesitantly smiles taking the pink pen and the photo card of him from your hand and signs the back, you smile brightly at him as he gives it back to you, “thank you so much!” you say before heading towards the other direction. jake stares at your retreating figure his mind going a thousand miles, a a pretty bubbly and obviously talented actress who’s obviously into him and he’s gonna let this pass up because he thought you were a demon spawn? no way before he can even process it jake is calling you name and speeding to catch up with you.

park sunghoon ( 박성훈 )

୨୧ 𓂂 ˳ you’re apart of aespa, both you and Sunghoon were known for your icy visuals and you guys were probably the most shipped idols at the moment. everyone thought that you guys would go so well together, little did they know that their ship were already dating. sunghoon was your down bad boyfriend that was your biggest supporter and he always made sure to support you with music bank and he was excited that he would finally get to see the best host that he’s ever seen interview him and his group (he only calls you the best host because you’re his girlfriend.) what he didn’t expect was for chaemin and yours script to be so flirty even when you’re interviewing groups. all he could do when you and chaemin were interviewing him and his group was think who the heck wrote the script and when he can have a talk with them.

sunghoon sulked as he laid on the couch in your dressing room, he watched has you packed up your bag before letting out an annoyed sigh, “what is your problem?” you ask turning towards him but all he responds with is another exaggerated sigh. “what happened to you?” you laugh as you walk over to the boy standing in between his legs as he buries his head on your stomach, “since when did your scripts get so flirty?” he asks but his voice is muffled, “what?” you ask, cupping his face and tilting it up to face you, “since when did your scripts get so flirty?” he repeats playfulness glaring up at you. “they’re not flirty.” you laugh, pressing a soft kiss to his forehead, “yes they are, they were never like this when I was a mc.” he whines glaring off to the side. all you could do is laugh at his dramatics, “I only have eyes for you.” you say pressing another kiss to his forehead, “you better.” he says, “I also need to get in contact with your script writer.”

[lowkeyerror]

The Family Business Ch.12

WandaNat x Reader

Word count: 2.7k

Ch. Notes: It's a converstion so dialouge heavy, non-sexual nudity

Summary: Natasha and Wanda reveal their feelings.

An: Ok... ok late again, but tell me it's not worth the wait. (Please don't) Hopefully you love it because it's 2:25am but I'm still doing this for yall and yes if everything goes right new ch. on Monday

Series Masterlist | Masterlist

Wanda couldn’t look at you when she was speaking. You could see she was trying to find the words, but you didn’t know how to help her.

Natasha knowing what her wife is trying to say tries to take over.

“ Before I met you I was a little jealous. Seeing the love of my life light up talking about someone who was quite literally thousands of miles away, was a hard pill to swallow. I haven’t known you as long as Wanda, but I can see now why she had always spoken so highly of you.”

You want to interrupt the red head and say anything back to her, but you don’t. They had said they wanted to tell you everything before you spoke so you intended to let them.

“When Papa sent me away, I resented him for it. It was a great opportunity and a show of good faith, but I was angry with him because I didn’t want to leave you here. I thought we had grown quite close, little krolik. You were the best part of all my days. So much so that even thousands of miles away I couldn’t shut up about you. Even after I fell in love, you’d always find a way into my mind,” Wanda plays with her wedding ring as she speaks.

You look between the two woman silently urging them to continue.

“I’ve been many places, lived many lives, and have met many people, but I've never met anyone like you. There’s this light inside you that you keep so close to your chest. I can feel it behind all the walls you put up. I see it in how intensely you care about your family and I admire it. I admire you,” Natasha isn’t scared to take your hand in hers.

Wanda continues, “It’s hard not to admire you. If Natasha has seen it in these few months, it’s safe to say I’ve always seen it. I saw it before you put all these walls up, when you let it be known to everyone. I think that’s what startled me so much when I came home. I felt like a soldier come home from war to see his home was no longer his.”

The woman begins to get emotional. You reach out your other hand for her to take, not knowing what else to do.

“When I saw Wanda interact with you for the first time, I felt something. It wasn’t jealousy or hatred or anything like that. It was this overwhelming warmth. Seeing her hold you as if you’d disappear, seeing her smile as big as our wedding day, it made me happy,” Natasha recounts.

Wanda sighs, “When we were in my old room at the dinner I was terrified. I thought you were going to tell me the same thing everyone else had when it came to you, but you didn’t. You held me, dried my tears, and I think things really started to fall into place for me then.”

“I met Wanda when she was technically on a job. She was leading and in charge of operations. I had seen her get angry or upset on multiple occasions, but I don’t know if I ever saw her as mad as that night. I could almost see the steam coming out of her ears when she had Pietro against the wall. As far as I knew, I was the only one who could calm her down, but then you did it like it was second nature.”

You speak quietly, “She’s always had a temper.”

You think the woman will roll her eyes, but she doesn’t, “I have and you have always been there to calm me down. I don’t know how to say this, Y/n. When I met you, you were just my little brother’s best friend, but then you became my friend and then a part of my family. You were so delicate back then, you weren’t even 18 for Christ sake.”

Natasha tries to help her wife find her bearings, “But by the time she left you were 22 and you had grown into a young woman.”

Wanda shakes her head a bit, “You had done a lot of growing, that I didn't want to see, that I was trying to ignore because I didn’t want you to think that I had intentions of taking advantage of you. I felt like at the time I was too old, you were too young, and we were too close.”

You look at her with confusion on your face. There’s only one thing that she could be talking about in your mind, but this can’t be happening.

“What are you saying Wanda?”

For the first time in the conversation her eyes meet yours. You see the fear in them, the uncertainty, the desperation. Her hand let’s go of yours and finds itself on her bouncing knee.

“I don't want to ruin this and I'm so scared of losing you, but if you would’ve died in that alley not knowing that I’m in love with you it would’ve destroyed me.”

You feel your heart beating against your chest. Your mouth opens and closes a few times as you try to find your voice. You find yourself stuttering for the first time in years, “Y-you w-what?”

Wanda stands abruptly trying to run from the conversation. This makes you panic and try to stand as well. However, you forget about your ankle and yelp at the weight you put on it.

Wanda’s arms are quick to steady you before you do anymore damage to yourself. She’s close to you and you swear you can hear her heartbeat.

“D-did you s-ay-” you give up frustrated with your reappearing stutter.

Wanda’s grip on you tightens slightly, “I’m in love with you.”

“Wanda I- you’re married,” you look back at Natasha only to find her staring at you.

She stands from her place on the couch, and closes the gap between the two of you.

“I have my own feelings for you Y/n,” Natasha is confident as she speaks.

Her assertion makes you turn red, “Y-you also?”

Natasha smiles sweetly, “Maybe not love just yet, but I could see myself falling for you.”

This situation was short-circuiting your brain, it felt like you were dreaming. This couldn’t be real. As you stood between the two woman it felt like less of a dream.

“I loved you before they sent you away,” you blurt out to your friend’s sister.

Once you start it’s like the words just pour out of your mouth, “You were way out of my league. You’re still out of my league, I mean does it get more taboo than falling for your best friend’s older sister. You’re just so easy to love, but I never thought I had a chance and then you came back with a wife; a very beautiful, very intelligent, ex-Russian spy of a wife, and I just knew I didn’t have a chance.”

“The chance is now. Admittedly, we don’t know how something like this works, but I think we can figure it out together,” Wanda levels with you.

“If you're interested,” Natasha adds on, leaving the ball in your court.

“It would’ve been nice if you guys had told me before I got a cut on my lip. I could’ve done the whole dramatic kiss to cut you off,” you tease them.

Wanda rolls her eyes, “If I could shove you and you wouldn’t fall over, I would.”

“You talk to every woman you’re in love with like that?”

Natasha chimes in, “You get used to it after awhile.”

You share a laugh and when it dies down Wanda speaks, “So we’re doing this?”

“I want to try, but I don’t want to ruin your marriage,” you speak honestly.

“You won’t,” Natasha declares with certainty.

“How do you know?”

She thinks for a moment, “The love Wanda and I have for each other is endless, I’ve never for a moment thought anything could break it up. We’re not changing the way we love each other, we’re just adding you into the already existing dynamic. Eventually it should end with the three of us loving each other endlessly. Does that make sense?”

You nod slowly, “It sounds perfect.”

Natasha places a kiss on your cheek like it’s second nature to her, “Good.”

Your ears heat at the contact and before you can respond Wanda places a light kiss at the corner of your lips.

The movement leaves you wanting more. Against better judgement you try to lean down and kiss her. You succeed in placing your lips against hers for a brief second but as you pull away you almost fall again.

Natasha is the one to steady you this time. She teases you, “Someone is eager?”

“My ankle doesn’t want me to be great.” you pout.

Natasha hesitates, but delicately she touches her lips to yours. It’s as quick as your attempt at kissing Wanda.

“Your ankle won’t stop us, bunny,” Wanda looks at you with shining eyes.

Your face heats at the nickname that’s only familiar to you in the woman’s native language. The women chuckle at the pigment of your skin.

“We’ll see who’s laughing when my lips don’t hurt and I can kiss you properly,” you try once again standing on your own.

“I’m looking forward to it,” Wanda lets her eyes fall to your lips.

You roll your eyes, “Stop teasing, and help me get ready for bed. This has simultaneously been one of the best and one of the most painful days of my life. Truly unforgettable.”

Natasha speaks first, “I’ll get some stuff ready for a shower.”

“I’ll help you to the bathroom,” Wanda finishes.

It’s an all too similar feeling as you find yourself perched on the bathroom counter with Wanda standing between your legs.

Her fingers play with the end of your shirt. She looks at you for permission and you give her a light nod.

Slowly as to not aggravate your injuries she takes your shirt off. She’s careful as she unwraps the bandages from your torso.

“You’ll need help in there,” she speaks softly as her eyes scan your body.

“I know,” the pain starts to catch up with you.

Leaning forward slightly you rest your head on her shoulder. She smells good and it calms your nerves.

Wanda can’t help herself as she speaks up, “Isn’t this a familiar scene?”

You raise your head off of her shoulder and smile, “It’s ringing a few bells.”

Natasha enters the restroom with some towels and pajamas, “I’m going to get some food going, if you guys are alright in here?”

Wanda nods, “I’ve got her, Nat.”

Natasha nods and proceeds to exit the bathroom, “Just holler if you need me.”

Wanda steps away from you to turn the shower on. She’s back in front of you in no time.

“How do you want to do this?”

You feel nerves as you speak, but you try to sound objective, “I think you should join me. Not because I want to see you, not that I don’t want to see you. Its just I can’t really stand and-”

She quiets you down by pulling her own shirt over her head. Her feet pad against the bathroom floor as she makes her way back over to you. Wanda’s hands place themselves on the top of your pants. Her movements are slow but sure as she begins to pull them down. She takes extra care when they're around your ankle.

Once they’re off she takes a step back swiftly removing her own pants. The only thing left on both of you is your underwear.

The sound of the shower rings heavily in your ears as you watch Wanda take her bra off. You can’t move even if you want to. Your eyes glance over her chest before following her hands path lower. She’s not teasing as she removes her panties.

Once again you find yourself with her standing between your legs, but this time there was significantly less fabric in the way. She reaches behind you back to place her hands on your bra clasp.

“Y/n, do you mind if-"

“Take it off,” you finish for her.

She does as you say, a shaky breath releases from her. Your bra falls off your shoulder, but you keep looking in her eyes. Her hand slides down from your back and her finger hooks around your underwear.

“Take it off,” you repeat in a hushed tone.

She follows your instructions. Her eyes snap back to yours. The two of you stare in silence. There’s an underlying tenderness to the moment.

Wanda’s hand reach for your waist, “Ready?”

You nod and she assists you off of the counter. The water hits your skin and you sigh. You enjoy the heat against your bruised skin. Wanda’s hands stay in place for a moment just keeping you steady.

It's a silent delicacy as Wanda soaps up a towel and begins to gently clean your skin. You marvel at the lightness of her touch.

She turns you around so you face her. You look down at her and can’t help but brush your nose against hers. You hear her breath hitch. Carefully you use your hand to guide her’s across your body.

Neither of you dwell as she cleans every inch of you intimately. You lean against the shower wall a bit so Wanda has room to wash herself. You take in the details of her body as she cleans herself.

She gets out first and then helps you put the pajamas laid out for you on before dressing herself.

“I love you,” you say it easily when everything is done.

Wanda places a kiss on your forehead, “I love you too.”

Wanda helps you to the kitchen table. Your eyes find Natasha moving about in the kitchen.

“Almost done, I know you’re tired lisichka. We can eat then get in the bed,” Natasha speaks to you.

“Thanks Natty,” you look at her with your hand on your chin.

“Did you re-wrap her torso detka?” Natasha asks her wife.

Wanda snaps her fingers, “I knew I forgot something.”

“Take over here, and I’ll do it?”

Wanda agrees to these terms. Natasha goes to fetch the medical wrap and quickly returns. You’re sitting down, so Natasha kneels to be level with your torso.

Carefully with tentative hands, she lifts up your shirt. Her hand finds the small of your back, to encourage you to sit straight. You follow her instructions.

“Tell me if it’s too tight, okay?”

You’re looking down into her eyes and you momentarily get lost in them. The hues of green draw you in like emeralds.

“Baby,” she says again a little more firm.

You snap out of it and nod, “I’ll tell you if it’s too tight.”

She brings the wrap around your torso multiple times, each time looking for any extensive discomfort in your expression.

When she’s done with your torso, she quickly does your ankle. Your ankle was more sensitive, so she made sure to be extra gentle.

“All set, lisichka,” the woman places a kiss on your forehead as she stands up.

“Food is ready,” Wanda announces bringing plates for the three of you to table.

At this point exhaustion was knocking at your door. You eat in comfortable silence and once you’re finished, they help you to bed.

When your head hits the pillow, you almost fall asleep instantly.

“If I didn’t want to kill him for what he did to my father, I’d kill him for this,” Wanda says to her wife.

“The men involved have been dealt with already,” Natasha relies to her Wanda.

“You work fast malyshka,” Wanda places her hands on Natasha’s hips.

Natasha looks at your sleeping figure, “I’d move at the speed of light for either of you.”

Natasha ends her statement by kissing Wanda.

“I love you,” Wanda pulls the woman closer to her.

Natasha smiles pecking the woman’s lips once more, “I love you too.”

The two of them climb into the bed, making sure to give you adequate space due to your injuries.

“Why does this already feel so natural?” Wanda questions.

Natasha answers instantly, “It’s just meant to be like this. This feels like the final piece to our little puzzle."

Wanda was more than content with that answer, closing her eyes, unable to fight rest.

Somewhat like before, but entirely different at the same time, the three women lay together.

Taglist: @natashaswife4125 @autorasexy @alexawynters @blkmxrvel @toouncreativeforausername @likemick @sgm616 @bstvst @dorabledewdroop @sapphic-simp4015 @natty-taffy @justarandomreaderxoxo @mmmmokdok @tarathia @bgwlsmahf25 @lezzylover @og-kxsh-420 @vanessashands @untoldreader @sxlfishbrokenheart @marvelgirlx @elle161989

[folklaur21]

What would've should've been

Pairing: Theodore Nott x fem!ravenclaw!reader

Summary: Theodore Nott didn't truly know what love felt like until he found you. But now all he can do is sit and imagine what should've been.

Warnings: Mentions of death/killing, Battle of Hogwarts, use of Y/N

Word Count: 2.3k

Before You

Theodore Nott isn't the happiest person in the world. Scratch that, he might be the most subdued, emotionally complex guy to have ever existed. Hardly anything made him smile, next to nothing made him laugh. That's just how he was, is, and how he will always be.

It isn't completely his fault. People are never born 'sad' or 'emotionless'. Theo was brought up this way. It was ingrained into him as a child, silently impacting his life forever, and he didn't even realise it. Well, that was until his mother died. At the hands of his father.

Theodore's mother was a gentle soul. Sweet and caring, she always looked after her son. She gave him everything a child needed, wanted, and then some. The one thing she couldn't provide for Theo? A stable father, who wasn't an alcoholic, abusive pig. Though she did try, the fear she had of Theodore's father never ceased throughout their marriage. She just had to try to shelter Theodore from this cold, uncaring lifestyle.

She could only protect her son so much. When Theodore was just nine years old, she couldn't take the abuse from his father anymore. So she tried to escape. From her house, from her husband, from her life. Yet she failed. And he found out. Theodore Nott Sr. was not happy with this. So he did the only thing that he thought could ease his troubles. He killed his wife. The mother of his child. The child that had heard the Unforgiveable Curse uttered from his father's lips. The child who watched the flash of green light emitted from his father's wand. The child who had to watch his own mother, the only person who truly cared for him, die.

When he started Hogwarts, Theodore wanted a somewhat fresh start. Free from the burdens of his home life, he made friends.(Arguably, they were friends who his father would have approved of. If his father even cared.) At school, Theodore worked hard, and tried to mask the emotions he had always been told to oppress. Anger. Hatred. Vulnerability. So none of his friends truly knew what his life was like. Except for Lorenzo.

Theo told Enzo Berkshire everything. It was easier, having someone understand why you were like you were. Someone who you trusted with your deepest, darkest secrets. Someone who cared about you. That's how the two became best friends. Practically inseparable, 24/7.

During You

Having a connection with someone was something Theodore didn't truly seek throughout his lifetime. Especially now, in his fourth year at Hogwarts. Apart from Enzo, he was fine with keeping to himself, keeping a low profile and staying out of everyone's way. That was, until he saw you.

"Enzo, I don't want to go."

"Please, Theo, I want you to come. I'll be lonely without you." Enzo pleaded with his friend.

"I don't want to go to the Yule Ball. And besides, I didn't ask anyone to go with me." Theodore replied, still resisting the idea.

"So? No-one really cares if you're with someone or not. It's supposed to be fun." Enzo says with a sigh as he flops down next to Theo on his bed.

Theo scoffs. "Says you! How many girls asked you to go with them? 15?"

Lorenzo turns slightly pink at his friend's comment. "23..."

Theo lets out an exasperated sigh. "Exactly," Theo says, but after a moment he decides, "I will go to the ball with you Enz. Only because it's that, or sit around here or in the common room with all the first years."

So, that was how he ended up standing at the side of the Great Hall, sipping a glass of pumpkin juice, and watching all of his friends dancing with whoever they brought to the Ball. Theo didn't really mind. Once again, he was merely waiting in the wings, not really expecting anything grand to happen to him. At least, that's what he thought would happen. Until he saw you.

You were with some of your friends on the dancefloor. Laughing and smiling, you were carefree, living your life to it's full potential. Theo couldn't bear to take his eyes off of you. It's not like you would have seen him anyway, with him lurking in the shadows.

After he had spent what felt like forever watching you, Enzo came to his friend's side, offering a new glass of pumpkin juice, which Theo gladly accepted.

"Who's that?" Theo asked his friend, nodding his head in your direction.

"That's Y/N. Y/L/N I think. She's in Ravenclaw. She's actually quite clever, I sat next to her in arithmancy last year." Enzo pauses for a second. "Why do you want to know?"

"I don't know," Theo shrugs, nonchalant. "I just... don't remember seeing her before, that's all."

"Oh. Well, she's really kind. And sweet." Enzo smiles before rushing of again to resume dancing, leaving Theo to mull over his thoughts. Thoughts of you.

A week later, whilst sat in Potions, Theodore couldn't help but watch you, sitting across from him in the classroom. Strange. He had never noticed you before, but now it seemed you were the only thing plaguing his mind. He hardly took any notice of Professor Snape that lesson, watching you as you took notes with your brow furrowed, and how you twirled your quill around in your fingertips if you seemed distracted.

Over the next few weeks, Theodore Nott grew to know lots about you, even if you didn't yet realise it. He knew your favourite subject (Charms), your favourite sweets from Honeydukes (Chocolate Frogs, because you collected the cards). He even knew how you liked to spend your Sundays (sat in the courtyard with a book and a hot chocolate). Theo was drawn to you, for some unknown reason, and not even he could figure out why.

In the weeks leading up to your exams, you spent an increasing amount of time in the library, studying. Funnily enough, so did Theodore. He wanted to do well academically, even if his friends preferred skiving off and messing with first years. So, that was how he came to speak to you for the first time, five whole months after he was first captivated by you.

"Can I sit here? All the other tables are either occupied or slightly sticky and I don't want to mess up my books"

"Uhh, sure!" Theodore said, shocked that you had even come over to him. "No," he told himself. "She's only over here because nowhere else was free. Don't get your hopes up."

"I'm Y/N, by the way." You smile at him, and wave your wand to get your books laid out on the desk in front of you.

"Theodore. But you can call me Theo." Theodore said, as he found himself smiling in return.

The two of you started to talk about anything and everything; school, exams, your hobbies, interests, just your lives in general. And that's how Theo realised that, maybe he wasn't such a cold, uncaring teenager after all.

A week or so later, the two of you were sat under the shade of an oak tree overlooking the Black Lake, studying for, you guessed it, exams. That moment was when Theo finally plucked up enough courage to ask you something.

"Hey, Y/N?" he asked, taking a deep breath.

"What?" you replied, looking up from your book.

"I was wondering, would you maybe like to, and it's OK if you don't, I don't mind, you don't have to say yes or anything because it's completely your choice-"

"Spit it out, Theo!" you giggled, humoured by his rambling.

"Right. Sorry." Theo said, trying to calm himself down. "Umm, would you like to go to Hogsmeade with me next weekend? And could we possibly go to the Three Broomsticks? You know, just... us?"

Your eyes widened, before you smiled at the boy's worried expression. "Of course! Theo I'd love to."

You wrapped your arms around him and gave him a small kiss on the cheek before returning to your book, leaving Theodore grinning as if he'd just won the lottery. Which, with you, he basically had.

After You

It had been a while since Theodore Nott had been back at Hogwarts. Since he had gotten the Dark Mark, at his father's force, he had stayed working for The Dark Lord, being a Death Eater. He hated it. It was a life his father had forced him into, a life which wasn't truly his. And now he was back at the one place which had been a home to him, but now he was here to destroy it.

Theo tried to look for you. The one person who he trusted, and the one person who trusted him. Theo wasn't here to fight. He wasn't here to kill. He couldn't do that here. His safe place, where his father couldn't physically torture him. Where you were.

Before his sixth year at Hogwarts, Theo was held under the Imperius curse by his father, and the searing skull tattoo, the tattoo that would hurt him forever, was imprinted into his left arm. When school started again, he couldn't bear to tell you, his girlfriend, what had happened. But he did, because between you two, there were no secrets. When you found out, all you were was supportive. You helped Theo though his pain and anguish, but what he didn't know is that when you first found out, you cried for hours. Crying about his future, your future, angry at the world you live in for being so cruel. Crying was really the only thing you could do.

After Dumbledore's death, Theodore did what he thought would be best for your relationship, best for you.

"You can't be serious, Theodore?" you said, trying to keep your voice levelled and clear, holding back the tears.

That hurt Theo. You never called him Theodore, unless you were really frustrated. Which hadn't happened until now. "Y/N please, I have to, it's for your safety."

"My SAFETY? Theo, I couldn't care less about that right now. Please, don't do this." You couldn't hold back any longer. The tears were now streaming down your face.

"I don't want to, but-"

"But what, Theo? I love you!"

"I love you too, but-"

"Then surely that's all that matter?" you say, exasperated. "We love each other. We can run away together, and live in hiding until it's safe for us to come out, to be together."

"No, we can't, you know we can't, we'll be found and then... you'd... You'd be killed." Theo says in a small voice. "And I can't let that happen to you. Please, Y/N, just listen to me. As soon as this is over, we can get back together. We can live together, start over together. But it can't happen now. Not yet. Please, Y/N, wait for me."

You can't stop crying now, and you lean over to Theo and kiss him. "OK. When it's all over. I'll be waiting for you, Theo. You'll definitely come back to me?"

"Of course I will, Y/N. I promise I'll find you."

And of course, that's what he was currently doing. Looking for you. He had been waiting a year to see your face again, hoping you hadn't forgotten about him. However now he couldn't find you. Running through the corridors, shouting you name, dodging curses and rubble, Theo's only goal was to find you. And he did.

There you were at the top of the Astronomy tower, a split lip and wearing a torn blue jumper, you were aiming all sorts of hexes at a Death Eater. Theo was so relieved, and began firing spells at your opponent, until he was knocked unconscious. At that point, Theo kicked the limp body over the balcony, not caring what would happen.

"Y/N." Theo smiled. "I told you I'd come back."

You pulled Theo into a hug and kissed him. "Theo!" you breathed.

"I love you more than anything, Y/N." All Theo could do was look into your bright, tearful eyes, relieved that he could see you once again before-

"AVADA KEDAVRA!"

That fateful curse.

A flash of green light.

Your body fell limp in Theo's arms.

Your eyes lost their brightness.

"NO!"

Theo tried to pull you up, tried to hold you tight, but it was no use. You were gone. Theo looked up to see your murderer, looking him in the eyes. His father.

Your death at the hands of Nott Sr. ensured Nott Sr.'s death at the hands of his son. That was the first and last time that Theodore Nott would ever use the killing curse, and it only made sense for it to be on the person that used it on the two people who he had loved most in the world.

When the Battle of Hogwarts was over, most of Voldemort's supporters were dead, captured, or had fled the scene when it was evident that they were losing. But two Death Eaters stayed behind, simply because they couldn't bear to leave the castle like this. They felt it was partly their fault. Those two Death Eaters were Theodore Nott and Lorenzo Berkshire.

Whilst everyone gathered in the Great Hall, Enzo wandered the, now ruined, corridors of a place he loved so dearly. What he didn't expect to find his best friend, leaning on the crumbled wall of the Astronomy tower, cradling someone in his arms. Not to mention the fact that his father lay on the ground mere feet away.

"Please, Y/N, you can't be dead, you can't. I came back for you I-"

"Theo?" Enzo inquired, sitting on the floor next to his best friend, who was in fits of tears.

"He killed her, Enz. He killed her so- So I killed him. I had to."

"It's OK, Theo." Enzo replied, putting an arm around his friend's shoulder, and letting him cry.

The pair fell into a comfortable silence, with the sound of everyone in the castle talking and grieving the loss of friends and family. The two could have been down there with them, celebrating the demise of the people who made their lives hell.

But instead, all Theodore Nott could think about is what should've been.

[tomssexdoll]

Love will find a way

"why were you actually struggling so much?"

"cause I couldn't stop thinking about you..."

PAIRINGS: Tom 2010 x Female reader

CONTENT: ANGST + SMUT + FLUFF

SYPNOSIS: Y/N and tom are forced into a marriage by both their families, since it benefits them, they hate each others guts, always getting in arguments and sleeping in seperate bedrooms, they do almost anything to get away from each other. One day Y/N notices he's been struggling with business lately, she feels bad and tries to help, ending with him snapping at her and yelling for her to leave, she just scoffs and doesn't even try to fight back, surprising tom.

A/N: ily all

WARNINGS: dom!tom, sub!reader, p in v (riding ), eating out, mutual masturbation (fingering and handjob), breast/nipple play, light arguing

Me and Tom were forced into a marriage by both our families, they said that it benefited them, boosting their reputation and their businesses. We fucking despised each other, from the moment I met him I could tell he was an asshole.

His manners off putting, his attitude and snarkiness. I was forced to break up with my secret, loving boyfriend just to marry this asshole, sometimes I wished I was never in a mafia family, the consequences of it weighing on me.

I had to have a huge wedding too, something I'd always wanted but it was with the wrong person, everything was accomodated to my needs and desires but there was only one problem, the groom.

Living with him was hell, I had scheduled my meals to be way after his, breakfast was at 6, while his was at 8, lunch at 3, his at 1, and dinner at 8, his at 6. I purposefully made it so I didn't need to run into him after finishing my dinner, the thought of even being around him annoyed me.

His face, his voice, his stupid personality, the way he walked. Everything about him I hated, when we would cross each other all we'd do is argue, I'd scream at him and he'd scream at me, sometimes the bodyguards would have to get involved and tear me off him.

Our "marriage" was nothing short of terrible, everything about it, when he'd try to do nice things for me I'd just shut him down, not even baring the thought to look at him, let alone spend time with him. At events of course we had to seem happy, whenever I had the chance to run off I did, as did he.

Lately I'd been noticing him struggling, the paperwork he was usually amazingly good at handing in on time, going 2 days late, 3 days, and even weeks late. His father was coming around and checking in, asking why he was delayed so much, that it wasn't like him to do this, but as usual, Tom just brushed him off.

As much as I hated him, I didn't like to see him struggle that bad, I knew how important these businesses were to him, how hard he worked to keep them afloat. One day I slipped into his office, greeting him with a soft smile.

"What?" he muttered, I tried to ignore the annoyance in his voice, telling myself that I'm here to help him and not to snap at him. "Can't you see I'm working y/n? Don't you have better things to do?" he looked up, leaning back in his chair, his eyes narrowing as he studied me.

The air in the room seemed to thicken with tension, but not good tension, like hatred was brewing in the air, ready to spill over. "I was just going to offer my help, I've noticed you've been struggling Tom," I sighed, his name leaving a bitter taste in my mouth.

"And, why do you care all of a sudden?" he looked back down at his paperwork, flicking through the pages and then looking back up at me, "I thought you hated me.." he said, his tone bitter and cold.

"Trust me, I do. But I don't want to see your business struggle, it's not good for our reputation," I scoffed, grabbing the files and taking a quick look at them. His gaze intensified, his eyes boring into mine with an unnerving intensity as he leaned against his desk, arms crossed over his broad chest.

"These are easy, what's wrong with you? usually you're terrific at working on these, why are you struggling so much?" I touched his arm softly, he paused, a flicker of surprise crossing his features before it was quickly covered up by his usual stonic expression. His muscles tensed slightly beneath my touch, pushing my hand off.

For a second, I swear I saw his eyes soften when I touched him, like he wanted to give into something but of course he quickly composed himself, going back to his usual cold self.

"it's nothing, just stress.." he grumbled "stress? bullshit, you're never stressed," I pressed the issue again, I could see his anger growing, his chest heaving up and down as he snapped at me, "Enough!" he slammed his fist into the desk, causing me to jump at the sudden outburst. "GET THE FUCK OUT! I don't need you here, all you do is cause a headache, I can work on this shit on my own," he yelled, hungry for an argument, using hurtful words on purpose to rile me up.

I didn't budge though, just scoffing and not fighting back, usually I'd scream and fight, but I didn't want to give him the reaction he so desperately wanted. I turned around and just walked off, tears in my eyes as I slammed his office door shut.

Tom just stared at the closed door, watching me walk off. His expression slowly shifted from anger to guilt, he knew he had crossed a line, letting out a heavy sigh and running a hand through his hair, "fuck.." he muttered.

I stormed into my room, tears streaming down my eyes, I quickly locked the door behind me, not wanting to face Tom for a while. His words cut me deep, why was I so affected by someone like him? Why was I feeling this way?

He silently got up, deciding that he should put his ego aside and hurting me actually did effect him, it weirdly made his heart clench. He slowly walked down the hall, reaching my room, he leaned back against the door, hearing my muffled sobs. He knew he really hurt me this time and he hated himself for it, he never actually wanted me gone, his anger just got the best of him, his pride and selfishness making him lash out.

Usually we'd get into arguments, we'd spit harsh words at each other and just end up fucking, the sex full of hatred and anger, nothing passionate or intimate about it at all. Then, of course we'd go back to being enemies, ignoring each other for days.

After a few moments, he quietly knocked on the door, "Y/N..?" he gently said, "fuck off! I don't want to fucking talk to you!" I screamed, pushing him away even further.

His heart sunk at the sound of my anger, he knew he deserved it but of course it still hurt. "Fine..." he sighed, walking back into his office. I thought that was it, that it was just gonna be left at that, like it always was, but boy was I wrong. He sat down in his chair, looking at the items around him, wondering what he could use to convince me to talk to him.

His eyes lit up as he saw a pile of paper in his desk drawer, he pulled a few out and got one of his pens, opening the cap and contemplating his words, what would win me over? Hours passed, the house remaining silent, his thoughts are consumed with guilt and regret as he kept writing, his hands working at lightning speed, numerous of crumpled up pages were scattered across the floor and desk, he wanted this letter to be perfect.

He knew he has to quickly give this to me, to make amends, any more time that went by made him anxious, he was scared I'd think he just abandoned me.

As night fell, he finally finished. Grabbing a small, yellow envelope and folding the paper, putting it in and sealing it shut. He slowly arose from his chair, making his way over to my room again, I could hear his footsteps approach, I watched as a small envelope slid under the door, the moonlight from the window illuminating it, his footsteps quickly dissipating back to his office.

I slowly got up, sliding my slippers on and walking to the door, bending over and picking up the envelope, on the back it read, "words I wish I had said" I curiously opened it, walking back to my bed and sitting down, placing the envelope on my nightstand as I pulled out the paper.

I unfolded it, his neat, bold writing covering the page.

Dear Y/N,

My wife, I know we've been forced together, I know about the boyfriend you had before me, your father told me about him. He told me about how he wasn't good for you, how I needed to step in and marry you. How the business would benefit from us being together, that our reputation would flourish. I stupidly put my ego first, selfishly wanting my business to boom, to make tones of money.

The thing I missed out on was possibly making a relationship with you, a real, raw, romantic relationship. From the moment I saw you I was in love, I tried to form one, doing things for you but your hatred for me wouldn't subside and I just decided to be petty and act the same way, I denied my feelings by pushing you away, yelling with you and causing arguments.

I deeply regret what I did, I was caught up in my own thoughts, cursing myself every day for hurting you but I couldn't stop. I don't know why, it was like a drug to me, the rush of knowing you'd be there every single time, even after a major argument.

The hate sex made it worse, fuelling my ego more than it should've been. I was selfish and I hurt you, I can never forgive myself for that. The love I have for you is incomparable to that stupid twit you called your boyfriend. I know you were in love with him and still probably are but, if you give me one more chance can I prove I can be the right guy for you?

I'll stop treating you badly and just express my love and gratitude towards you. You're truly one of the most beautiful women I've ever laid my eyes on, you're kind, caring and generous, nothing like the other women I was set up to marry with.

I know I don't deserve a chance at all, after all the things I did to you it's understandable. But please, I'm begging you for this chance, I'll do anything you ask me to, I'll fucking jump off a cliff for you, I'd do absolutely anything for you, just if it means I can have you in my arms forever.

As I finished reading the letter, tears fell down my cheeks, dripping onto the paper. I realized my feelings for him, the ones I had buried inside me for a long time, refusing to let out.

Of course I hated him at the start, who wouldn't? I just didn't notice the feelings that developed, even through hatred. The times I'd just admire him at parties, get jealous of any girl who approached him, catching myself just sitting in his office to feel his presence.

I felt like I was going crazy, like all of this was just a dream and that it would all be over. But I had to snap back to reality, I had to confront him with my feelings and talk about it, I couldn't hide away for much longer.

I put my robe on, walking out of my room and towards his office, gently opening the door, meeting his eyes. "Oh...you got my letter.." he softly smiled, something I'd never seen on his face.

I softly nodded, closing the door behind me and approaching his desk. "How about you help me with the rest of the paperwork," he ushered for me to sit down next to him, a chair already prepared for me. I knew he didn't know how to express he wanted to talk to me, his eyes filled with desperation, waiting for me to accept his offer.

"Sure, the paperwork," I sighed, sitting next to him and skimming through it, I quickly signed off different things, fixing mistakes, feeling his eyes burning into the side of my head.

He took a deep breath, mustering the courage to broach the subject that's been weighing on the both of our minds, "You did that really well, you know I..I never expected for it to be like this, I never wanted our marriage to be this toxic.." he said softly, reaching out, taking my hand in his.

He gently rubbed his thumb over my hand, causing me to turn to him, looking into his eyes. "I know..I guess my hatred from the start kind of blew it up, I did notice the things you tried to do for me but I couldn't handle being away from someone I loved, someone I was ripped away from. Can you really blame me Tom, I was scared.." I sighed, he instantly shook his head, grabbing both my hands and leaning closer.

"There is never a day where I blame you, I blame myself for everything, I hate myself for the hurt I've caused you, I should've never taken the deal, I should've just told your father no, I know you probably still love that guy," he rambled, but I quickly cut him off, "still love that guy? Oh god no, he's a thing of the past. I was out one day and saw he had already moved on, only 2 weeks after we got married, when having feelings for you came into question in my mind I always shut it down, thinking it was impossible because of how far I had pushed you away.."

"We really are stupid, aren't we?" he chuckled, pressing his forehead against mine. "Yeah..I always caught myself sitting in your office, just to feel your presence without actually being in it, knowing I'd ruin it by snapping at you. I'd also notice how jealous I got when I saw you with other girls, I felt like I was going crazy," I giggled, noticing the big grin forming on his face.

"Jealous huh? So my plans did work," a slow, satisfied smile spread across his chiselled features as he listened to my confession, his eyes darkening with a hunger he's been trying to suppress. He leaned in closer, his lips inches from mine, his hot breath caressing my skin, "And now, are you still shutting your feelings down, or has that changed?" he whispered, looking into my eyes.

"It's changed...." I murmured softly. He closed the remaining distance, capturing my lips in a searing kiss. His hands roamed my body possessively, pulling me onto his lap as he deepens the kiss.

He broke away for a second, his voice husky as he growled, "you don't know how long i've wanted this, you, your touch..." I whined, pulling him back into a passionate, urgent kiss.

His fingers tangled in my hair, his tongue demanding entrance. He groaned in delight, pulling me closer and revelling in the feeling of having me in his arms at last. This was nothing like the hate sex we had, it was always quick, rough and to the point, only caring about our own pleasure.

But this, this was sensual, intimate, steamy and kind of romantic. I had never seen this side of Tom and was glad he brought it out, letting me experience proper intimacy after months of being neglected of it.

He cupped my face with his free hand, holding me in place as he showered me with kisses. He breathed in deeply, savouring the moment between the two of us. "I've always wanted to be with you like this, no anger or hatred, just pure passion. Now, get up and strip for me, I want to see your beautiful body, ok?" he smiled gently, a smile that told me it'd be ok, that he'd look after me.

I nodded and swiftly got up, slowly taking my robe off, revealing my small pyjama set. I slowly slipped off my silk pyjama shirt off, revealing my breasts to him. His breath hitched as he saw me, his eyes darkening with desire as he watched me undress, his gaze drinking in every inch of my exposed skin.

He takes in the sight of my pert nipples, the curve of my breasts and the delicate swell of my stomach, his mouth watering at the thought of tasting me.

Finally, I got to my pyjama shorts, slipping them off, revealing my lacey panties. His gaze fixates on the panties, the outline of my sex just barely visible beneath. He swallowed hard, tying to control his desire as his cock throbs painfully in his pants, "come here.." he said, his voice shaky.

I smriked and slowly walked back to him, sitting back down on his lap and pressing my lips to his. He almost immediately kisses me back, his hands gripping my waist tightly as he pulls me closer, how growing arousal pressing against my bare thigh.

He grinds his hips up, creating friction between our bodies and moans against our lips. "Oh Tom..." I whined softly, kissing him hungrily, grinding with him, my pussy getting more wet by the minute.

He can feel my wetness seeping through my panties and onto his pants, driving him wild. With a growl, he breaks the kiss and stands up, lifting me up with him. He quickly slid the things off his desk and onto the floor, setting me down.

His eyes roamed over my body, lingering on my bare breasts and the drenched lace of my panties, "I need to taste you.." he mumbled, getting onto his knees in front of me, moving his head in between my legs.

He reached for my panties, pulling them down and off of me in one swift motion. He tossed them aside and spread my legs apart, his gaze fixated on my wetness. "Fuck, you're soaked.." he said, his voice low.

"Please.." I whimpered, looking down at him with furrowed eyebrows. He chuckled and leaned in, his tongue snaking out to taste my sopping cunt.

I moaned softly as he lapped at me, his hands gripping my thighs and pulling me closer to him. He feasts on me like a man starved, his tongue exploring every inch of my pussy.

"Oh fuck!" I gasped, rolling my eyes back as I felt the pleasure shoot through my body. He groaned against my pussy, his tongue delving deeper as he tasted me fully.

His fingers find their way to my clit, rubbing slow circles around it as he continued to eat me out. Then he switched places, moving his lips to my clit and fingers to my hole, teasingly torturing me.

"Mmmmh...you taste so good.." he grunted, gripping my hips tightly, holding me in place as he eats me out. His tongue flicked back and forth over my clit as his fingers pumped into me slowly, he could feel me getting close, my legs shaking and my moans getting louder.

His fingers moved faster in me, curling at my g spot and sending shock waves throughout my body, I gripped onto the desk tightly, my knuckles going white as I felt my orgasm getting closer.

"You gonna cum baby, hm? I can feel it...your tight pussy quivering against me.." he smirked, wrapping his lips around my clit and sucking hard. I couldn't form words, only letting out little sounds of approval.

He doubled his efforts, suctioning my clit with his lips while plunging his fingers deep inside me. The combination of his tongue and fingers push me over the edge, making me cum with a loud cry, my pussy spasming around his fingers.

"Good girl.." he chuckled, sliding his tongue down to my slit and collecting every bit of juice I left for him, not wasting a single drop. He slowly rose his head to meet mine, his chin covered in my cum, glistening in the dim light.

He leaned closer, pressing a soft, tender kiss to my lips, letting me taste myself. He slowly moved down to my neck, placing soft kisses, then down to my chest, where he met my tits, his hands cupping them and squeezing gently.

"You have amazing tits, the best I've ever seen," he whispered, gently kissing my nipples as he latched onto them, sucking gently, the sensation driving me crazy. I wrapped my and around the back of his head, pulling him in closer, completely stuffing his face with my breasts.

"Y'know, I could die like this and I would never complain," he murmured against my tits, "oh really? Is that supposed to turn me on?" I bursted out laughing, he just rolled his eyes playfully and kept sucking on my tits.

His tongue slowly swirled around my sensitive buds, I could feel my pussy throb with each movement he made, his touch driving me crazy. "You want my cock baby, hm? It's aching for you.." he grinned, looking up at me, he grinded his hips against mine, rubbing his hard, clothed cock against my bare pussy, causing a delicious friction that has him moaning softly against my skin.

"Oh god yes..please.." I gasped, my hands reaching down to his pants, trying to tug them down. He smirked, stepping back from my grasping hands, taking the opportunity to remove his pants and boxers all at once. He tossed them aside and returns to me, his cock standing tall. He takes my hands in his, placing them on his shaft.

"Tom..." I looked up at him, slowly moving my hands with his, watching as his face contorted in pleasure. He leaned down, his lips meeting mine in a passionate kiss. He moaned into my mouth as I stroked his cock, his hands wandering to my breasts again.

His moans grew louder as I started to stroke him faster, my hands moving up and down on his slicked cock. His hands roughly grabbed my breasts, pinching my nipples between his fingers, "mmh!" I whined, feeling my cunt ache for him.

"So good..keep going.." he groaned, I used my other hand to grab one of his hands, "let's do it together.." I looked up at him, his eyes lit up at the idea, immediately moving towards my entrance. He shoved 2 fingers in, curling them to hit my sensitive spot again.

"Mmmh! Oh fuck!" I gasped, arching my back from his thrusts, with a low growl, Tom picked up the pace of his fingers, plunging in and out of me, harder and faster. My shaky hands jerked him off at lightning speed. He reached his thumb up to my clit, rubbing gentle circles on it, grinding his hips against my hand, chasing his own release as he finger fucks me relentlessly.

"Fuck!" he yelled out, his thrusts becoming more erratic as his own climax approached, his digits moving in and out of me at a rapid pace, "Tom! Holy shit!" I moaned loudly, pumping his shaft even more, feeling his cock throb in my hands.

He leans over, panting in my ear as he whispers, "oh baby, I want you to cum for me. Cum all over my fingers.." I nodded, whining and screwing my eyes shut, my pace never faltering on his cock, only getting harder and faster.

His balls tightened just as my pussy tightened around his fingers, signalling our orgasms in sync with each other. With one last pump of his cock and one last thrust in my sopping pussy we both came, our releases crashing down, he groaned and came all over my stomach, as I came all over his fingers.

Tom removed his fingers, bringing them to his lips and tasting my release with a devilish smirk. He then proceeds to scoop up the cum on my stomach with his fingers, offering it to me, "open up baby, I want you to taste me," he smirked, I gladly accepted them, gently sucking on his fingers, groaning at the taste of his cum.

After resting for a bit he finally spoke up, "god, I need to be inside you, I need you so bad..." he mumbled, pulling back and looking into my eyes. I nodded in approval, letting him pick me up from the desk.

He sat down on his desk chair, pulling me into his lap, our naked bodies flush against each other. His semi hard cock pressed against my thigh, he nuzzled my neck, his warm breath sending shivers down my spine.

"Are you ready princess?" he looked up at me, his eyes full of love. I gently nodded, hovering over his lap, watching his cock come back to life again, he smirked, grinding the tip of his cock in between my folds.

"Don't tease..." I spoke through gritted teeth, reaching down and grabbing his cock, slowly sitting down on it, the inches engulfing my pussy all at once. As he was fully in he shuddered in pleasure, holding my hips tightly.

He threw his head back in pleasure, his fingers digging into the flesh of my hips as he guides me up and down on his cock. The feeling of my tight pussy wrapped around him is almost too much to bear, "fuck...so good.." he murmered, thrusting up into my cunt. "Hold onto me baby, I won't go easy on you," he chuckled, moving my hands from his chest and around his neck.

I moved closer into his chest, resting my head on his shoulder as he started to piston his cock into me, hitting the right angles straight away. "Mmmm, that's it, just like that. Take my cock deep, squeeze it with that tight fucking cunt.." he growled lowly in my ear, as he started to thrust into me with more force, slamming his shaft into me with each upward stroke.

"Fuck!" I whined, planting sloppy kisses on his neck, hitting sensitive spots, causing him to moan lowly and fuck me harder, his cock pounding into me with all it's might.

He slides his hands up my back, gripping my shoulders and starting to pull me down onto his cock, fucking me harder with each thrust, his tip hitting my cervix, driving me crazy with all the pleasure I was getting just from his cock.

"Yesss! Fuck!" I whined, throwing my head back, my back arching to meet his thrusts. He grunted, his hips snapping to meet mine with increasing ferocity, the sound of skin slapping against skin filling the room rapidly.

I felt tension build up in my stomach, tightening into a huge knot. "I'm close Tom, don't stop!" I gasped, my hands resting on his shoulders, digging into them as his cock kept ramming into me.

"Yeah that's it, cum on my cock baby. You're gonna make me cum so hard inside you.." he chuckled darkly, "you like that huh? You like feeling my cock deep inside of you?" he smirked, leaning forward to suck and bite at my neck, leaving love bites as sovenirs.

"Yes! Yes, I love it Tom!" I cried out, stray tears dripping down my cheeks as the pleasure became almost too much. He grabbed my hips with more force, lifting me up and slamming me back down on his cock with reckless abandon, almost painfully hard and fast.

"Yessss! Oh my god!" I screamed out in pleasure, rolling my eyes back as I felt my orgasm approach quickly, my pussy starting to wrap around his cock like a snake, tightening around it.

With one last hard slam my orgasm exploded, loud moans coming from my mouth as my juices spilled all over his cock. The feeling of my cunt clamping down on his cock sent him into oblivion, slamming into me one last time and shooting his load deep in me, "fuck!" he yelped, sitting me back down on his lap.

"Oh my god.." I panted, collapsing onto his chest, my chest heaving up and down, trying to calm down from my third orgasm, my body weak on his. "Oh you did so well baby...'m so proud.." he kissed my neck gently, giving me reassuring words, nothing like he used to do.

He gently collected my hair, grabbing a hairtie off my wrist and pulling it back, brushing stray hairs from my face and tilting my chin to look up at him. He chuckled at my exhausted state, my eyes droopy and dry tears staining my face.

"Even when you're a mess you're still beautiful.." he smiled gently, kissing the tip of my nose and letting me nuzzle back into his neck. After a while of resting I popped my head up, "why were you actually struggling so much?" he paused, hesitating before sighing. "cause I couldn't stop thinking about you..." he admitted.

"That's it? I thought you were in trouble Tom, you had me worried," I sighed in relief, "no no, none of the sort, I just would always catch myself daydreaming about you, forgetting the paperwork for hours just because I was thinking of you," he blushed, embarassed to admit all of this.

"Don't be embarrassed!" I giggled, "I like to think you were thinking about me," I smirked, pressing a gentle kiss to his lips. "Why don't we turn this marriage around, start over again," he gently caressed my cheek, "of course, I'd love that.." I rested my face back into his neck, enjoying the feeling of his strong arms wrapped around me.

tags: @itsmealaiah @itsangelll @ballhair

tags: @kaulitzswhxre @kaulitzsbabyy @miyukafujii

tags: @tomsonlyslut @bkaulitzlover @bills-wife-1

tags: @20doozers @ella1289 @pa1n-0f-l0ve

[ssentimentals]

seventeen members as love tropes: xu minghao

enemies to lovers

'you're not mine but wouldn't you want to be?'

minghao tries is hardest to stay calm but all these higher ups are making it really hard. he turns to look at you and the sight of your hunched back and bitten raw lips makes him boil. are you two friends? no, far from it. minghao is very aware of the whole 'enemies' agenda that is happening between you both, but does he want to see you like this? nervous, agitated, scared? no. fucking hell, no. he wants to see you burning with passion, wants to see that fire in your eyes whenever you two argue - minghao feels like he's been punched in the chest when he realizes that he's ready to kill just for you to not look this scared.

'can we wrap this up?' he voices out loud, not bothering to hide his annoyance. 'i don't see any point in this.'

'it'd be wise for you to be more polite and remember who you are talking to, xu minghao.'

he sees how you cringe at this, how your hands ball up into fists at the way that man spoke to him. understanding that you are angered on his behalf warms minghao up; it feels incredibly nice to know that you care. he keeps his mouth shut, lets managers drag on about the issue and takes two step in your direction, stopping when your shoulders brush. you tense up at first, sending him a questioning glance but he only stays put to which you reply with a rejected sigh. they lecture him and then start lecturing you and minghao can't just stand still when you're obviously fuming. they are being rude to you and the words are out of his mouth before he can think them through: 'don't talk to her like that.' your sharp intake of breath kind of wakes him up and he stares ahead at all the managers, who all look shell shocked.

'you have no right to talk to her like that.' minghao pushes in a clipped tone. 'she did her best and so did i, our timing got fucked up but it's not our fault. don't speak to her in that tone.'

shortly after you get pulled away by other people and minghao is in for another 30 minutes of lecturing. by the time he finally gets out of that stuffy room, he feels like he wasted ten years of his life on nothing. he sighs, stretches and is about to turn when soft steps stop him. he knows it's you even before you call out his name.

'why did you do that?' you ask, squinting at him. 'why the sudden hero act?'

'it wasn't an act,' he says, rolling his eyes. god, he's so tired. 'but you're welcome.'

'i haven't asked for it,' you spit out, obviously angered. 'i don't need your pity.'

minghao turns around, raising his eyebrow. 'i have never pitied you,' he says strongly, feeling himself getting worked up again as some stupid side effect on you being close. 'can't you just say 'thank you' and move on?'

'i don't need your help!' you hiss. 'i haven't asked for it!'

and - only you can make minghao want to both bang his head on the wall from frustration and laugh like a maniac. he sometimes wants to step closer, pull you into his arms and... he doesn't know. part of him wants to strangle you for being so damn difficult all the fucking time, but another part wants to smash your mouths together so you can finally shut up. minghao is aware of how unhealthy it is just as he is aware of how often your gaze falls on his lips or his biceps. it's good to know he's not the only one who's gone mad. they say it's a fine line between hatred and love and for minghao right now this line is so thin that he barely see it anymore. is it the same for you? he wants to ask, but instead he says: 'why you didn't stop me then? you always could just interrupt me over there but you didn't say a thing. if you don't need my help why i was the one who you turned to when authorities came? you didn't say anything but you searched for me with your eyes, don't even try to deny it.'

five steps. that's the distance that separates you two and minghao thinks it's fitting. he can take two and then you can take two and then maybe you'll play game of chicken on that last step. but you surprise him with taking all those five steps yourself, storming onto him with fire in your eyes that he loves so much. 'you're not the one to talk, minghao. you think i don't know that it was you who asked everyone to wait up for me? who brought medicine to my team when i fell sick?' you try to push him on his chest but minghao easily catches you wrist in his, not letting you move. 'let me go.'

'that's not what you want.' he says in a calm tone that doesn't show all the hurricane which's happening inside of him.

reality of how close you two are standing dawns on you. jerkily, you try to step back but his hold on you is too strong. 'let me go,' you whisper, voice wavering. 'hao, let me go.'

hao. 'that's not what you want,' minghao whispers and lets his other hand wrap around your waist, pulling you even closer to his chest. 'tell me what you really want, angel.' he sees how you shudder at the petname and smiles, leaning in. he lets go of your wrist, locking his arms around you instead. 'you can go if you want.' he leans in, brushing your noses together. 'or you can stay. and i can never, ever let you go. which i think is what you actually want.'

it's brave. it's bold, it's brazen and - it works. your body sags in his arms and you hide your face in his neck, hugging him back. 'prick,' you mutter into his neck, raising goosebumps where your lips touch his skin. 'self absorbed asshole.'

'yeah,' minghao easily agrees, hugging you tighter. 'prick, self absorbed asshole that i will never, ever let you go.'

a/n: this one is a bit vague but i couldn't figure out how to write this for the live of me. i hope this was okay? let me know! - nini

my seventeen works are here

my formula 1 works are here

[hughes86-43]

tough love | M. Barzal

request - can you write for Mat and do enemies to lovers as coworkers. maybe she’s on the social team and she gets hurt getting content and he’s the one to help her get to the trainers for medical attention? (thanks for requesting :)

warnings - mentions of blood, not sure what else but please let me know if there is more! some grammar mistakes present.

To say working on the social media team for a NHL team being your live long dream would be an understatement. Ever since you watched your first NHL game with your dad, you somehow someway wanted to work for one of the teams. You went to school, and you worked hard to get to where you are now.

The lead social media member for the New York Islanders.

You honestly cried when they first offered the job to you. You couldn’t believe it. All your hard work was starting to pay off.

Upon your first year there, you met all of the Islanders team, and also, made some great friendships with them. You did your best to be friendly with everyone as you were going to constantly be working around them. Mostly everyone was very welcoming and friendly towards you, however there is always that one person that begins to get on your last nerves every time you see him.

That person for you was Mat Barzal.

The truth was you never did like him especially since you heard what he had said about you. Within the first month that you were there, you had been walking to your office when you overheard your name down the hall. Thinking someone was wanting you, you walked down the hall, but you stopped at the doorway when you heard what actually was being said.

“I don’t know man, just something about her is nerve wracking. Maybe it’s the over-the-top excitement about everything, I don’t know, or maybe it’s just the way she is constantly annoying in those meetings.” Even though you had only met him twice in that first month, you could tell that the voice was Mat. Once you heard him say that, you made your way back down the hallway to your office. Shutting the door, you did your best to not let it get to your head.

However, no matter what he thought of you, you still wouldn’t let that keep you down. You were just excited that you finally got your dream job, and you were not about to let someone you barely knew get you down about it.

Now over a year later, that hatred you felt for Mat was still there. You didn’t know if he ever noticed it, but you didn’t exactly hide that you didn’t like him either.

The Islanders were playing the Panthers at home tonight. You arrived to the arena for morning practice in your black dress pants with a blue sweater paired with black heeled boots. Multiple of your coworkers complimented you on your outfit that it was perfectly matched with the Islanders blue.

You walked down the long hallway to your office to get your notes for the media coverage today. You were unfortunately going to be interviewing Mat after practice, but fortunately you also would be interviewing other, nicer players after him.

During practice, you advised the intern photographer of what types of shots they should be getting, practicing for the game later tonight. Soon after, all the players were off the ice and down the hall to the locker room to change. Leaving you to mentally prepare for interviewing Mat.

Mat was always professional during the interviews he did with you, however you could tell that he was just trying to get it over with, which he doesn’t do with any of the other media people. That action itself makes you even more annoyed at him.

As you were waiting to get the all clear to make your way to the locker room, you got held up by your office door not opening. You tried the key card and everything but it just wouldn’t open for some reason. Deciding to just figure it out later, even though your notes were in there, you went to the locker room. The whole fiasco had made you late by ten minutes, so you knew that Mat would be annoyed at you.

That assumption was true as you walked into the locker room and saw him on his phone. When he heard you walked in, he spoke to you with an annoying tone. “Other important things to take care of, huh?” You took a deep breathe, trying not to let your emotions get the best of you.

“Yes, sorry, my key card wouldn’t let me into my office,” you say as you get your mic ready for him while trying to rummage through your bag for your water.

“Here, give me the mic.” He grabs it out of your hand after you didn’t respond for five seconds. “Are you sure you weren’t fired?” Although you could tell he was just trying to get a reaction out of you, you couldn’t help but to give a sarcastic answer.

“Seeing as no one has came and dragged me out of here yet, I think I’m still good. You couldn’t make a goal during practice, are you sure you’re still going to be starting tonight?” You turn your head away from your bag and stare dead into his eyes. He gives you a blank stare.

“Is that part of the interview? Trying to take shots at me now, huh?”

You grab back the mic from him and take your seat in-front of him. “No, that wasn’t part of the interview, and I’ll take as many shots at you that I want, since you seemingly want to do the same.” You get comfortable in your chair, leaning back and crossing one leg over the other, which then causes your water bottle to fall to the floor. Water goes everywhere, because of course the lid wasn’t on good.

You reach out to grab your water bottle, the same time that Mat reaches down with a towel in his hand to clean it up. You try to take it out of his hand, but he keeps pulling it from you. “Here, I can do it!” You say reaching out for it again. “No, I got it, I can do it, just put your lid back on your bottle before it gets worse!” You end up just letting him clean up the water as you put the lid back on, because truly you could’ve went back and forth with him for a lot longer.

He stands up and walks to take the towel to the hamper by the door. Once he sits back down, you ask, “Are we ready to start now?”

“Yes, unless you’re going to spill your water again?” You roll your eyes at that and begin asking the questions.

Twenty minutes later, you finish with the last question. You turn the mic off and throw it back into your bag until the next one. You’re rummaging around your bag again when you find the key card that was actually the right one for your office. “Ugh!” You say out loud, not noticing that Mat was still in the room.

From his stall, he whips his head around so fast and makes his way towards you. “What? Are you okay?” You jump when you turn around, not realizing he was closer than he seemed. “Sorry for scaring you, what’s wrong?” He says eyeing you up and down, practically seeing if you broke anything.

“Oh, nothing. I just found the right key card to my office.” You wave the key card in front of you. Mat nervously runs his hand through his hair, backing up to give you your space back.

“Oh, that’s good, great, guess that means we’re stuck with you, eh?” At that, you throw your key back into your back, along with your water bottle, and throw your bag onto your shoulder.

“Yep, guess so! Now if you don’t mind, I’m going to go back to my office, which means I’m not fired, and prepare for the next interview, so thanks!” You just want nothing more than to get into your office and let out the emotions you’ve been trying to hold in.

Mat seems to notice the change in your demeanor, he reaches out to touch your shoulder. “Hey, are you okay? I was only joking,” he says softly but you move out of his reach.

“Yep, all good! I know you’re joking, it’s all good!” You rush out the door before he can saying anything else.

-

You make it through all the interviews, make you’re way home to take a nap, and now your back for the game tonight. You changed your outfit to blue pants and a black long sleeve paired with the same boots from earlier.

You managed to get into your office with the right key this time. You take some last minute notes before heading to your spot in the arena.

You spend the first and second period in your spot with the other media people behind the glass. You send out tweets, take videos, send instructions on what the intern photographer should take photos of, and take notes to ask the players after the game. During the third period, you’re doing the same until the worst thing imaginable happens to you.

It’s 5 minutes left in the final period, the opposing team ends up with the puck on the opposite side of the ice from you. You weren’t paying attention much to what was happening on the ice, which you should’ve been, since the puck somehow ended up flying over the glass and hitting you under the eye. It has you stumbling to find your balance, you hold your cheek, and you can feel the blood flowing down it.

Mat sees it all happen. The puck flying through the air, over the glass and hitting you. He can see the blood gushing down your cheek. He rushes to the bench to get a trainer. He’s practically trying to climb over the glass to see if you’re okay, because the amount of blood doesn’t seem that good. The trainers are around the glass within seconds to get you up and down the tunnel to the medical room.

You faintly hear someone say “I’ll check on you after” but you’re not sure if the force of the hit left you hallucinating things. You’re also not sure if that was Mat or not who was rushing towards you behind the glass.

-

You finish the rest of the period laying on a medical table in the medical room. They ruled out anything major; they just had to stitch you up. Now you just have to lay there for thirty minutes with an ice pack on your face until they rule that you’re good to go home.

Ten minutes or so after, you hear someone ask one of the medical staff about you. They must’ve said that you’re still here, because you see Mat coming through the door looking frantic. He changed out of his gear, mostly now just in shorts and a hoodie.

He spots you laying on the table in the corner, he rushes over to you. “Oh, gosh, are you okay? I came as fast a could to check on you.” He pulls up a chair to sit next to you. He’s not sure whether he should reach out to touch you or not, but he decides not to, not yet anyway.

“Yeah, I think so, pretty much. They stitched me up and gave me some Tylenol for the pain,” You reply back, trying to look anywhere but at him.

He nods his head at your answer. “That’s good, that’s good,” he says nervously.

With his nervous tone, you turn your head to look at him. For someone that finds you annoying, he sure seems to be worked up about something, you think to yourself. Heck, he probably came to make sure you died but got disappointed.

Deciding to speak up after a couple minutes of awkward silence. You ask him, “Why did you help me out there? I would’ve though you would have left me lying there.”

Mat looks down at you with a shocked look on his face. “Why would I do that? Just leave you there? As you’re bleeding down your face?”

“Well yeah, you’re not really my biggest fan, ya know,” you reply as a matter of fact, like he should know that.

“What? Where’d you get that from?” He’s now trying to decide if he should go get one of the medical staff as he is now worried that the hit as made you go crazy.

“Oh, I don’t know, since you said that my excitement about working was over the top or the fact you said that I was annoying.”

“When did I ever say that?” He pauses. “Oh.”

“Yeah,” you wave your hand around, “Plus, you’ve never not been annoyed with me during interviews, when you’ve been nothing but nice to anyone else so.”

Mat sits there trying to process everything you’ve been saying. “Oh.”

Honestly, you’re pretty sure your just spilling all the thoughts on your mind right now. “It’s not like you’ve been my favorite person or anything. I’ve been trying to annoy you since you said that.”

“Oh-” Mat starts, but you continue talking.

“And then I was annoyed this morning because you really want me fired for some reason since you joked about it all morning.”

Mat tries to get another sentence out. “I don’t want you fired-”

You’re still rambling on and on. “I mean, I get it, I really do. My excitement can be over the top sometimes about things, but I don’t think that warrants being fired over-”

“Y/N-”

“I mean what’s wrong with being excited? I’ve worked hard and nobody else seems to think I should be fired, well except you and this lady down the hall, but that was probably because I spilt my drink on her by accident, but still-”

“Y/N!” That shuts you right up. “Did the puck rattle you so much that you’re going crazy now? Take a deep breath with me, you’ve been talking nonstop without taking a moment to breathe.”

You follow his breathing and calm down a bit. You lay your head back down on the table with the washcloth back on your cut. However, you shoot your head back up at what Mat says.

“You know, I never wanted you to be fired. Heck, you’re so good at your job that I don’t think anyone else would be as good as you, so they wouldn’t want to fire you.”

You’re the confused one right now, “Huh?”

“Shhh, it’s my turn to talk now. Honestly, I don’t even know why I said those things about you. I know I was wrong for saying those things about you, and I’m sorry,” He looks into your eyes. “I love how you’re so excited about what you do and it’s understandable because you worked so hard to get to where you are. Overtime, I’ve started to admire how hard you work and how excited you are to do the work that you do. It has always made me so happy to see you do the thing you love to do. I guess my way to showcase that was by annoying you, though.”

You stare at him with your mouth wide open, completely shocked by what he is saying. You take a second to process what he just said, you reply, “Are you serious right now? Because Mat, I swear, if you’re messing with me right now to get a reaction, now is not the time and it would not be good for you.”

Mat frantically shakes his head. “No, no. I promise I’m being serious,” he runs his hand through his hair. “I guess what I was trying to say is that I like you a lot.”

You lay your head back down to think over what just happened in the last hour or so. “I’m dying, aren’t I? I’m hallucinating this. I’m losing my mind. You get hit by a puck in the face one time, and now, you’re losing your mind.”

Mat laughs at your dramatics, but quickly gathers himself to comfort you. “Hey, Y/N, I promise you’re not dying. You’re just fine, everything is fine, you just had to get stitches, and you’re going to be good to go home soon.”

Finally, after debating it a lot, he reaches out to run his hand over your hair, and surprisingly, you let him. After taking some deep breaths and calming down a bit, you say, “Okay, I’m okay. Sorry, I don’t know what happened there.” You shakily let out a laugh.

Mat still has a hand in your hair, and he smiles down at you. “It’s okay, all is good. Guess I probably could’ve waited to tell you all that, but I couldn’t after seeing you almost dying out there.”

“No, I’m glad you did. Honestly, I like you a lot, too. I think I’ve just been too annoyed at you to realize that. Maybe we both have just been flirting back at each other without realizing it,” you jokingly say.

“Maybe so, but truly, I’m glad you’re okay.” He runs a thumb over your cheek under the stitched up cut.

You both relish in that moment until the medical staff comes in. “Okay, you’re good to go, do you think you can drive back or do we need to call someone?”

“No, I think I’m okay to drive, and if not, I have someone to help me.” You thank them before hopping off the table to grab your bag.

Mat walks up beside you and places his hand on your lower back to steady you after seeing you trying to regain your balance. “Do you really think you can drive home by yourself?”

You turn your head to look at him and give him a grin. “Oh, I’m still a bit dizzy so no, but I know someone who can drive me though.” You give him a wink and hand him your keys.

“Me? You want me to drive you home?”

He’s not sure if he has died and went to Heaven. You laugh, “Yes, you! Now c’mon, I’m tired and I need someone to take care of me, so show me how caring you are, and take me home. We can go from there.” Mat didn’t have to think for a second longer as he followed right beside you to your car. Certainly not the night you thought would happen, but you can be glad something good came from it.

[joelscruff]

one thing i'm missing (joel miller/reader) PART ONE

hi there ! i'm new to the tlou fandom but not new to fic, and watching the show over the past few months inspired me to return to fic writing. the idea for this has been milling around in my head for a good chunk of time now and i finally felt ready to put pen to paper and get this thing started. i've already posted this to ao3 if you prefer that medium, but i'll also be posting it here now. let me know what you think!

summary: you and joel accidentally end up falling asleep together, and what follows is the beginning of a quiet and tender relationship neither of you saw coming. rating: 18+ explicit (this part is not explicit but this fic will be) warnings: (for future parts) smut, age difference (reader is in her mid 20s and joel in his mid 50s), praise kink - will add more as fic progresses word count: about 2.6k

You don't, under absolutely any circumstances, talk about it.

It started about a month ago, after all the shit that happened with that monster, David. After Ellie had decided she wanted to start sleeping alone.

It hadn't really been a conscious decision on her part, but you'd noticed that first night how she'd distanced herself from you and Joel when it was time to sleep. She'd curled up against the far wall of the basement with barely a word, shutting herself off entirely while you'd tended to Joel's injury. Prior to this – ever since Joel was stabbed – Ellie had started sleeping at his side, head on his chest, listening to his heart and hoping against all hope that it kept beating. You'd slept a few feet away, hoping desperately for the same thing.

After David, she avoided physical contact entirely. You and Joel wordlessly understood, though you could tell it alarmed and concerned him. Though he'd been in and out of consciousness for the past few weeks you know he'd become accustomed to having her at his side, curled into him with that familiar daughterly affection he'd been missing for twenty years. Seeing her ultimately decide that she no longer wanted that closeness, probably feared it, distressed him greatly.

“Fuckin' bastard,” Joel had murmured to himself that first night as you cleaned his wound – you'd learned what to do from watching Ellie, “I'll fucking kill him.”

“Shhh,” you'd hushed him, keeping your voice low in case Ellie was still awake, “He's dead and gone, she took care of it.”

“Shouldn't have had to,” he'd hissed, “Fuckin' bastard.”

He'd slept poorly. You knew because every so often you'd hear him mutter something else to himself about David between short fits of sleep. You didn't sleep much either, partly because in the wake of Ellie's sudden distance it was now your job to monitor Joel's wound, but also because you felt the same way Joel did. The thought of that monster... what he'd done to Ellie and what he'd tried to do... you'd never felt so much disdain and hatred for one person in your life. Every time you closed your eyes all you could see was the look on her blood-spattered face when you'd both found her, the way she'd barely been able to speak... you could only imagine how much worse the images behind Ellie's eyelids were.

So she slept alone now, which meant Joel slept alone.

For a little while, that is.

-

After a few days of short spurts of travel and staying in more abandoned houses (Joel wasn't well enough to walk much, though he tried to deny it, much to the frustration of you and Ellie) you'd set up camp on the outskirts of a small community. Ellie hadn't talked much and Joel hadn't been fully in his right mind since you left that first house, so the decision-making had fallen to you for the time being. Truthfully, you were done with the mouldy mattresses and hard concrete of those suburban basements, the smell of rotting food and being bothered by mice and cockroaches while you tried – and failed – to fall asleep. Neither Joel nor Ellie argued when you suggested setting up a campsite in the woods for a change of scenery.

The snow had melted quite a bit and there hadn't been anything fresh in almost a week, the temperature rising rapidly the further you walked. The idea of sleeping underneath the stars again with fresh air in your lungs and the sound of the wind blowing through the trees was enough to keep you going that day. That night, you'd watched as Joel made a fire with the materials you'd collected, Ellie already bundled up inside her sleeping bag a few meters away.

“Hey, you sure you're not gonna be cold over there?” you'd called to her gently, already knowing the answer.

“I'm good,” she'd replied, sounding earnest enough, “If I get cold I'll move.”

You'd sighed quietly, turning back toward the fire. Joel was blowing lightly on some kindling, eyebrows furrowed in thought. You used this rare moment of him being distracted to analyze his face; the dark circles beneath his eyes had been growing more prominent over the past few days, and he'd gotten into the unconscious habit of blinking very slowly, like he was always just a few seconds from sleep. You'd never seen him look this exhausted.

“You need to sleep,” you'd murmured, and his eyes had snapped up to meet yours instantly, “I'm serious, Joel, you look...”

“I'm fine.”

“You don't look fine,” you shifted your eyesight to the fire, lifting your hands to warm your palms, “You look like you haven't slept in days, which you literally haven't, by the way.”

“I've slept,” he'd grunted, turning his attention back to the fire as well.

“Yeah, for maybe twenty minutes at a time.”

“Well, maybe if I wasn't bein' woken up every twenty minutes by you checking if I'm still breathin',” his voice was hard and cold, but you were used to it.

“Don't be dramatic,” you'd snapped back, “I check you maybe twice a night now, if even that. Sorry for wanting to make sure you're okay.” The last few words had come out shakier than you'd intended.

He'd inhaled deeply, and you could see him looking at you again in your peripheral vision, “You're right, I'm sorry. I'm being an asshole. As usual.”

“You're not an asshole,” you'd muttered, “you're tired. And so am I.”

You'd sat together in silence for a few moments before Joel had reached behind him for his pack, digging out the blanket he'd started using in lieu of his old sleeping bag. He'd decided to leave that behind; it was what you and Ellie had used to get him back to that first house, the one Callus had dragged across the icy terrain with a bloodied and near-death Joel as its only occupant. He'd pissed himself in it, which he'd attributed as the main reason for leaving it. But you knew the truth: he'd spent too long wrapped up inside of it during that period of time to ever get a good night's sleep from it again. It needed to be put out of its misery.

Both you and Ellie had offered to give him your own but he refused every time, repeatedly stating that the blanket Ellie had found was warm enough, if not even warmer than the sleeping bag had been. You honestly didn't know if he was telling the truth, but he gave you no choice but to believe him.

“You take first watch, then.” he said quietly, “We're out in the open again, gonna have to stay alert.”

“Got it,” you were a bit embarrassed by your brief moment of vulnerability, but you'd quickly busied yourself with picking up the rifle to hold it in your lap.

You'd watched as he spread out the blanket on the ground, carefully kneeling down and wincing at the pull of his stitches. He laid down on the edge of it, then reached over and pulled the other side over his body like a makeshift sleeping bag. Sighing contentedly, he'd closed his eyes.

Despite how much older than you he was, the word adorable couldn't help but cross your mind.

“Goodnight,” he mumbled quietly to you, and you'd forced yourself to look down at the rifle so he wouldn't catch you staring.

“Night, Joel.”

-

You'd quickly learned that Joel's new blanket was in fact not warmer than his sleeping bag. After a few hours of keeping watch, you decided to check on both Ellie and Joel to make sure they were doing alright. Ellie was fast asleep and didn't look to be shivering or experiencing a bad night's sleep; she actually looked more peaceful than you'd seen her for a long time. You'd smiled fondly, fighting back the urge to push her hair out of her eyes; she'd made things very clear and you weren't going to overstep.

You wandered over to Joel and the contrast between he and Ellie was staggering; there was no peace here. He was wide awake, shivering ferociously and hunched in on himself with his hands cupped around his mouth as he blew on them for warmth.

“Jesus Christ, Joel,” you'd immediately dropped the rifle and leaned down to him, “why the fuck didn't you tell me you were freezing?”

It actually wasn't a very cold night, but the combination of Joel's thin blanket, his injury, and the fact that he was overwhelmingly exhausted were just making everything ten times worse. He also hadn't slept outside for weeks. You immediately began to regret the decision to camp tonight.

“Hold on,” you'd said quickly, scrambling back up to grab your own sleeping bag. You unzipped it so it was wide, then draped it over Joel's shivering form, “I'm gonna give you some body heat, okay? Don't make it weird.” You'd only said the last part because you knew he would protest.

You'd crawled underneath both layers of material and without any hesitation wrapped your arms around Joel, ignoring his shaky mutterings of “I'm okay” and “you don't need to”. He'd surrendered very quickly, relaxing into your embrace as you ran your hands up and down his arms at the fastest pace you could muster. You alternated between his arms and hands, taking them in yours and rubbing your palms against them like you were trying to start a fire, huffing hot breath against his skin. Beneath the blanket, you entwined your legs with his, pulling his socked feet against your ankles and trapping them there to warm them up.

It only took a few moments for the heavy shakes to stop and for Joel's breath to even out again. Despite this, you stayed where you were and kept doing what you could to keep his temperature stable. As he warmed up, he began to feel more like himself; he was no longer a cold statue but the warm and solid man you'd come to recognize, and you were hyper-aware of the fact that despite spending so much time with each other you'd never actually been this close to him. His arms, strong and steady beneath his coat, the same arms that carried around that heavy pack all day, the arms that cradled the rifle, they now laid loose and tender under your touch. His hands, calloused and rough around the edges but soft at the palms, the same hands that set the fire still burning a few feet away, the hands that once held his daughter and had learned to hold Ellie's – and now yours, feeling like in some way they belonged there.

You'd known you felt something for Joel, but you'd never realized how strong and real that something was until it was literally in your embrace.

Without speaking you'd laid your head on his chest, closing your eyes and doing your damnedest to fight back the sudden tears that were threatening to well up. Holy shit, was all you could think, a warmth you'd never felt in your entire life radiating in your chest and somehow extending toward him. Holy fucking shit. It was like time had stopped and all you could feel was him.

You'd looked up at his face, needing to see if he felt it too, felt you the way you felt him, but your eyes widened slightly when you saw that his were closed, mouth slightly agape. There it was, that peace you'd seen on Ellie's face, now transferred to Joel's. For a brief second you felt panic, but it was immediately interrupted by the light snore that emitted from his open mouth. He'd fallen asleep.

And a few moments later, so had you.

-

That was the first night you'd slept solid without waking up even once. Not just since Joel had been stabbed, but since the pandemic had started to begin with. You can't recall ever having such a peaceful, dreamless, absolutely soul-refreshing sleep. And neither had Joel; when you woke the next morning he was still fast asleep in your embrace, that peaceful expression still sculpted on his face like he was a living Michelangelo. In the night you'd only gotten closer to him, legs still entwined and head still on his chest. The only difference was that your arms had obviously stopped their rapid movements to keep him warm, and they'd ended up snaked around his torso, the palm of your left hand laying flat against the hot skin of his waist, just above where his stitches were.

Maybe you should have pulled away when you realized, gotten up and pretended it didn't happen. The thought did cross your mind, but then Joel had shuffled a bit in his sleep and you'd become aware of the fact that his arms were around you, hand pressed flush against your bare back underneath your jacket and shirt, holding you to him. And that was enough to make you stay.

About fifteen minutes later, he'd woken up.

He didn't flinch or yank himself away when he realized the position you were in. He'd blinked slowly at you, and you'd peered up at him just as quietly. His lips had parted and then closed again, as if he was going to say something but then thought better of it. Instead, he just kept staring at you, and you started to feel his hand on your back slowly and tenderly stroke the skin there. In return, you gently brushed your thumb against the bare skin of his waist. It was a moment that felt like it went on forever, both of you touching those small intimate parts of each other without saying so much as one word.

You felt butterflies in your belly when the hint of a smile twitched at his mouth, and you smiled back, sleepy and soft. You never wanted to leave this small piece of existence. You just wanted him to keep looking at you like that, his gaze holding yours with an expression you could only describe as contentedness. You'd never seen him look so relaxed; the dark circles had faded and even the lines on his face had receded into his skin. He looked younger, healthier, like all the bad things that had happened to him had vanished in one good sleep.

“Uggghhhh,” Ellie moaned a few meters away, and both your heads snapped in her direction. She was sitting up in her sleeping bag, back facing you. You could see her arms stretching above her head as she began her typical morning wake-up routine: stretch, groan, flop, repeat.

Without saying anything you'd both untangled yourselves simultaneously before she could see the sleeping arrangement you'd found yourselves in. The loss of warmth and familiarity was palpable as you quickly stood up and grabbed the rifle, walking over to the now completely burnt out fire. Joel silently folded up his blanket and your sleeping bag behind you, then muttered something about needing to look for more shit to burn.

That's how it started.

And you don't, under absolutely any circumstances, talk about it.

[writingoddess1125]

Fight for Pleasure

Mihawk x FemReader

Now this is some true Kinky shit- 👍🏽 Enjoy 😉

Sorry it's late!

MUST BE 18+ TO READ!

⚠️Warnings:⚠️ Hard Sex, Unprotected sex, Biting, Blood drawn, Fighting.

Day 3. Hate Fuck

"Good Evening Ma'am" the handsome Marine bowed respectfully to you holding a arm out to you which you ignored and stepped off the dock of the ship and passing him. They constantly tried to do this, bringing the prettiest of their Marines in order to woo you into cooperation.

Being one of the Warlords on occasions you were summoned to nice places like this as a 'Show of Good Faith' in this case it being a resort which was emptied for the Warlords and paid in full. The World Goverment finding it cheaper to just let the Warlords indulge in whores, food and drink then letting them roam at times.

That and this was usually what they did in order to ask for some sort of favor which you imagined would be arriving by tommorow morning. Walking into the Resort you could already hear the Chaos- Mainly one source of it being the newest member Buggy the Clown.

Chaos which was the drunk floating clown having a field day with some booze and laughing with someone that was obscured- truthfully not wanting to bother checking.

You made a B-Line right for the bar. Seeing the other Warlords there already having their fill of paid for delights. Even passing by Boa who seemed just as unamused as you and you two gave a brief nod at each other.

Stepping into the bar you saw the lone Bartender, clearly not as heavily used since the bottles of ale, rum, and other strong liquors were out in the main resort area were most of your fellow Lords were gathered.

"A Daiquiri please" You asked, putting some berries in the tip jar. The Bartender smiling at this and quick to start making the order.

"Another bother of Tarapacá" You heard from the voice you loathed the most- Sending a glare up to your left to see non other then Dracule 'Hawkeye' Mihawk. Aka the stuck up asshole you were forced the share air with.

"You know a please to him wouldn't kill you-" You hissed in annoyance, Typically not caring for impolitness from your peers but Mihawk was an exception to this rule.

He sneered down at you, waiting for the bottle as he rolled his eyes not even bothering with you.

"Ah isn't it the tramp- Don't concern yourself with how I speak to others" He growled at you, But your own temper flaring at his insult.

"Tramp!? Oh you're one to talk- Everyone knows you probably have more spawns then Big Mom" You snapped back which made him glare hard at you, His yellow eyes staring hard at you as his face twisted up- The Bartender gently setting down the bottle for Mihawk then the Daiquiri for you.

"Let's not forget that little girl you keep on your island" You chime in a sing song voice, His hand clenching as you stood up with a smirk- You were one of the few who knew of Perona and while you were aware he most likely hadn't been intimate with her didn't mean you wouldn't throw it back in his face.

"How are you aware of that child?- Let alone got the incorrect idea of my relationship with her. Or My Island" He said hissing at you, You turned back with a sarcastic smile sipping your drink.

"I have my ways Hawkeye" You say sweetly, which made him grab the bottle and fling it in your direction which you dodged.

"You spied on me and went to my home?-" He guessed correctly which made you smile. Downing your drink you kicked one of the chairs in his direction which he snatched and tossed away, Marching towards you pissed. His eyes practically glowing at this imformation you toss the glass at his feet and glare at him- This making him stop.

"So tell me...What keeps me from killing you" He hissed out, rage and hatred pouring from his lips like venom.

"Cause you like me too much~" Hou chimed, walking from the bar completely- Warmth blooming in your stomach at how his eyes stared at you the sour taste of remembering it was Mihawk snapped you from those thoughts.

Walking down the hall to were your suite was, you tried to push away the small argument from Mihawk, whistling a mindless tune before the world spun- Feeling yourself slammed against a near by wall you glared hard as you saw it was Mihawk again- The smell of wine on his breath made you sneer.

"What do you think you're doing you drunk asshole" You hissed, reaching forward and roughly grabbing the collar of his shirt. After a moment of silence he crashed his lips into yours, Biting them roughly as he did so- Growling you pull him closer as the taste of blood and wine filled you senses. You pulled back to get air in your aching lungs and bit down on his neck earning a pained hiss from the fellow Warlord. "Perverted Bastard"

"Vile whore" Mihawk hissed at you- your hand shooting up and grabbing a handful of hair and yanked his head back which earned him growling moan. Quickly he yanked you towards the suite pulling at his coat as you practically tore open the hotel room door.

"F- Fuck!!" You screamed out, feeling him slam you into the nearest wall hard. Picking your legs up and wrapping them around his waist he glared hard at you in what could only be described as disgust, before taking his free hand and ripping your top open to see your exposed breast and attacking them with his mouth.

You moaned out as his hands ripped away at your bottoms, his teeth pulling and Biting your nipples as his hands dug into the flesh of your ass. Your own hands ripping away the wide brim hat and tossing it to the side which earned a glare from the Man. Smirking at this you take the opportunity and lean down, Running your tongue up his neck earning a rumbling moan from him, Until you bit down hard, feeling blood touch your tongue and him grab your hair to yank you away glaring hard as blood dribbled down the side of his neck.

"Fucking animal-"

Hawkeye mutter before harshly tossing you onto the large bed, earning a surprised yelp from you as you bounce on the bed- Glaring at his smug face as he followed after you and crawled towards you quickly moving to pin you but you slipped from his grasp. In a flash you grabbed at his pants and ripped them from the side with a smirk on your face and a scowl from him.

"These were expensive-" He growled as he tosses his ruined clothes to the side, his throbbing cock now on full display.

"Aww can't take what you dish out~" You tease gesturing to your shredded clothes on the floor. The two of you glared at each other at a stand still to see who would attach first- Mihawk suddently springing I to action as he dove for you once more, this time grabbing your leg and trying to pull you to him.

You laugh at this and instead scoot yourself close to him throwing him off completely as you pounce on him- knocking him to his back hard enough that the bed snapped and tilted in the directed of the force, You Sitting on his chest with a evil smirk.

"Not fast en- EEP!" You yell as he sits up suddently and grabs your waist keeping your upper body high as you fall against his stomach. He smirked down at you, seeing your face red before dived his mouth inbetween your legs.

Arching your back in pleasure as you felt him aggressively eat you out, trying to pull yourself up from the position but he only tightened his grip- The feeling of his hardened member pressed against your upper back from the upside position, as well as the head rush from the blood rushing from your head.

Moaning loudly as your legs tightened around his head. His fingers digging hard into the flesh of your hips as you came into his awaiting mouth and cut air from him. Feeling how he lapped at every drop you gave as your body shuttered and spasmed from pleasure. He then tried to pull away till you locked your legs keeping him from pulling back, a evil smirk on your face. He struggled for a few seconds, until you felt his mouth open again and his teeth brush far too close to your clit like he was going to-

"YOU BETTER NOT!" You yelped and released him quickly, moving yourself away from the cackling man as he ran his tongue over his teeth and lips like he savored the taste.

"Aw can't take what you dish out Darling?~" He growled out smiling at your defensiveness and suspicion. Glaring hard at him your hand shoots out and grabs his cock.

He grunted as your grabbed him roughly, your sharp nails gently running up the side of his shaft like a pleasurable and silent threat. Leaning down you place a long slow lick over the length of his shaft, earning a hissing moan at the sight and feeling.

"Aww you got quiet quick~"

You smile at his reddened face as you made him come undone your fingers squeezing on the swollen head of his cock earning a angry growl from him at your teasing.

"Don't tease me women" He hissed, grabbing your wrist and yanking you so you were on him your bare chest pressed onto his as he went to bite your neck once again pushing forward you headbutt him which knocked him back off the bed but he pulled you with him as you both landed and crushed the nightstand.

Taking advantage of your dazed state he rolled the two of you over on the rubble and pinned your hands next to your head, A dark gleam in his eyes at this.

Tossing your head back as you gave out a forced moan as he entered you quickly and hard. Still sensitive from the brutally forced orgasms of before as Mihawk snapped his hips to fill you body and soul, setting a brutal pace he began to fuck you like an animal. Your body sliding across the carpet as he fucked you as far as possible, your moans of bliss ripping through your throat at the speed. His fingers releasing your hands which fly to wrap around his back.

Mihawk grunted hard as he slammed into your hips again, ignoring your cry in bliss from the multiple orgasms at this point and his own hips losing its rhythm from his own coming undone, his fingers digging into the carpet around your head as he gave a few more powerful thrust- Your nails slicing into his back and drawing blood as you screamed to another hard orgasm drew him in finally. A howl in pleasure ripping through his throat as he stuffed you as deeply as possible, he fell onto you from the force as the two of you laid there a panting mess.

You foggy to the brain feel him run his tongue over the cut on your lips, parting your lips at the request you kiss him deeply in the after glow of it all. You two pulled back only when Mihawk finally gets the strength to pull out of you and roll onto his side with a tired sigh.

"Must we always fight in order to fuck?"

You question still exhausted and laying there on the carpet fairly sure you had some level of carpet burn on your back. You hear a questioning hum from Mihawk, Clearly not wishing to think of that question further as he laid there relaxing.

You sit up from the floor a familiar ache between your legs, seeing the destroyed furniture, the ripped up sheets and clear dent in the wall from were Hawkeye slammed you. In short it looked two beast had destroyed this room in either battle or fucking- in this case both.

"You're paying for the damages for this room" You point out, Mihawk opening one eye from his lounging position on the floor hands behind his head and comforbly dozing.

"Hmph.... fine-"

[damn-stark]

Chapter 13 Me & My husband

Chapter 13 of Moonlight

A/N- Do you think there’s anything that can make us support the Greens? Hmm?? 🤔

Warning- Swearing, NFSW, talks of pregnancy thoughts of abortion, Aegon, ANGST, fluff, SPOILERS, LONG CHAPTER.

Pairing- Aemond Targaryen x Velaryon!fem-reader, Cregan Stark x Velaryon!fem-reader

Episode- 2x03

(If you want to be tagged let me know)

————

The streets are quiet, abandoned, and ravaged. The only life pulsating is in taverns scattered about the streets you pass, but as some drink for fun, others most likely drink to forget that the food in this city is diminishing with the blockade still not penetrated by their King.

The sky is polluted by white clouds, dimming the bright lights of the stars and the moon, and the sweet taste of autumn has begun to turn bitter with colder nights, bringing a chilly breeze that nips at your cheeks, and makes your fingers hold on tighter to the warmth Aemond’s hand gives yours.

What could you say about yourself? That your anger has not dulled even if you know now as you walk down the cobble streets that when Aemond is close you never feel alone. Is that hopeless?

Is it hopeless that someone who hurt you is also the one who never makes you feel solace? Even when you’re mad and seething, hoping he will leave you alone, all you seek is his presence because your heart is so tangled with his that he’s the very thing you need to feel complete.

How can you make it stop?

Do you really want to know what a world without him will be like? You should, your heart needs to stop dancing over the fact that he’s trying hard to win you back to his side. You shouldn’t be eager to know where he’s taking you. You shouldn’t know that if he had brought you out into the city weeks before this war started, or even when ravens were all that was being sent, that you would have devoted your heart and soul to him. And who wouldn’t?

He’s trying hard to get in your good graces by stepping out of his own comfort zone to do something he knows you like. He’s trying to prove his love, and his remorse for hurting you, and deep inside where you’re guarding your heart, a hole is starting to puncture through the wall.

You should be rageful! Anger is all you should know! And you do, you still feel it seething within you. You feel spiteful because he’s making the effort to make you look past the unforgettable act he did. Visiting brothels is something you can learn to forgive, after all, you have sinned too, but…killing Lucerys should bring you nothing but hatred.

You shouldn’t steal glances at him when you think he’s too busy paying attention to where you’re going, but you do, you can’t help it, you want to look into his mind to know what he has planned. And…you can’t help yourself from studying his face like one studies a tapestry that you can’t help but get lost in.

You are proud to say that you haven’t spoken a word since you left the castle, that’s the one thing you have kept up, but that begins to teeter because you need to know where he’s taking you! He keeps walking further and further away from the Red Keep!

You need to ask him, you should ask because what if he’s trying to take you somewhere dangerous, or someplace you actually don’t like? Plus this anticipation is something you can’t handle.

Thus you part your lips, and his eyes drift to you as if he was waiting for you to fill the silence, but thankfully you come across a woman with a babe against her chest and an older child on the ground beside her, so you direct their attention at their poor conditions.

Aemond tries to pull you back, but you slip your hand away from his grasp and approach the woman and her children.

The child does immediately scoot back when he sees that you’re approaching them, but the woman looks at you with hope in her eyes as she recognizes your white hair and sees your expensive clothes.

“Here,” you speak softly and pull five gold coins from the pouch in your cloak's pocket to offer them to the woman. “For you and your children.”

The woman glances at Aemond past you, and she seems to falter.

You see right through her and reassure her. “It’s okay, he may look scary, but he’s not. He won’t hurt you. The money is from me and him.”

The woman spares one more frightful glance at Aemond before she sticks her hand out so you can hand her the golden coins.

“Thank you, Your Grace,” she says in return and bows her head. “May the gods bless you and the prince.”

“And you,” you redirect sweetly. “Good night.” You offer her a smile and then give the child a wider one before you turn away and return to Aemond to continue down your path in a short silence.

“Where are we going?” You finally let yourself ask.

“I thought you would not ask,” he says and drops his eye on you.

You shrug. “I was not, but you may as well be leading me to my death.”

Aemond rolls his eye. “Why would you say that?”

You avert your gaze and huff. “Well, I do not think the King’s counsel would be so keen on welcoming back. At least not as freely as I am.”

“No they are not keen about your return, they think you come to spy for your mother,” he shares, making you keep your eyes focused on anything else so Aemond won’t see that they hit the target.

“Well,” you sigh and feign annoyance. “If I would have come to do anything for my mother, they should all know I wouldn’t have gone to one knee for his Grace,” you throw that last bit out mockingly. “I mean…” you trail off to not say anything offensive around houses filled with people who wouldn’t hesitate spreading what you said like wildfire. Aemond you don’t worry about, it’s the people who might be listening.

“Yeah I know that,” he mutters, making you both meet each other's gaze and share a small teasing smile over the thought of Aegon being king.

“<He doesn’t even speak Valyrian,” you complain in High Valyrian. “Our child knows more than him, and he’s almost 5 months old.>”

Aemond huffs and you skip forward to fall at his side and muse about Aerion. “<I am being honest, earlier, I told him in Valyrian, if he was happy to be home with you, and he talked back.>”

“<Talked?>” Aemond questions with a happy smile he can’t hide.

You nod excitedly. <Cooed, but it’s the attempt that counts, and the smile he gave when I mentioned you.>”

Aemond hums and smiles at the ground at the mention of Aerion being happy to see him again.

“<He really missed you,” you tell him. “He was sad to be away from home for so long.>”

Aemond lifts his head and looks at you with a soft look. “<I missed him too. And you most of all.>”

He says that on purpose, he knows that sweet words like that make you swoon. It almost works if you’re being honest, but you hold yourself back and look away to retort. “Yeah, you missed me when you went to the Street of Silk.”

Aemond groans and you huff, finding the exact excuse you need to lead into silence. It’s now more tense than before, but it doesn’t leave an attempt for him to sweet talk you, or for you to find a way to talk like you would before.

You don’t talk at all actually, which works to strengthen that wall around your heart, and keeps your anger from sizzling out. You don’t hold hands anymore either which leaves your naked hands feeling quite abandoned while you’re following him through the dangerous city, past taverns and places to eat, past places where people sing and entertain, and overall past anywhere that can be fun.

You start to believe he’s taking you out of the city, but then much to your surprise, you reach the Dragonpit.

“Why are we here?” You ask and he looks at you but doesn’t actually attempt to answer, he points his eye to the side of the Dragonpit before he grabs your hand and pulls you with him toward an entrance you didn't even know about.

“What—”

He shushes you by pressing his finger against your lips and holding your gaze for a short moment that actually starts to filter in flickers of heat in your tension.

“It’s not far,” he whispers before he opens the door and ushers you inside.

Do you hesitate to do as he says?

No, you grow intensely more curious and quite excited.

“If Astraea senses I’m here she will weep,” you whisper as you roll your head over your shoulder to watch him close the door. “It was hard enough bringing her in here.”

Aemond lights a torch before he responds as he walks past, but not before taking your hand first. “We’re not here for the dragons.”

You can’t help your excitement from running your mouth for you. “I would ask how you know about this entrance, but I also know you so, I think I have my answer.”

With a crooked smile, Aemond looks at you and picks on that. “Really?”

You nod and push the tip of your nose up to tease him. “Your nose was always in a book.”

“It made me smarter,” he rebuttals, making you scoff in amusement. It’s not a laugh, but it’s close enough so he takes that as a win.

“It’s not much further,” he answers your burning question that you were about to ask.

You would ask the other questions you have lined up, but you also want to be surprised, so you swallow back your questions and eagerly follow him.

Honestly, it feels like you should close your eyes to not spoil anything, but this tunnel is new to you, so you stay vigilant. And once Aemond brings you to a sudden halt you’re glad you were cautious.

“Watch,” he suggests as he keeps the torch behind him.

“Okay,” you follow up slowly but hold his gaze with a sense of excitement, making him shake his head.

“Not at me,” he says as he doesn’t try to actually look away. “Over there.”

You breathe out some of your nerves before you slide your eyes to the dark room ahead of you. Aemond makes sure you’re paying attention first before he starts to walk away from you, making you get cast in the pitch darkness that comes from the hall behind you.

“Aemond,” you call out with slight fear.

Said man offers you his attention for a second before he walks further inside the dark cast room.

You don’t like the idea of getting consumed by the darkness so you take a step after him, but quickly come to a stop as the room begins to glimmer like a thousand exquisite diamonds as the fire on Aemond’s torch bounces off the walls.

“Wh—” you don’t even get to finish saying because your breath is stolen by all the spots of transparent lights that drown the room, making it seem like you’re actually within a hundred stars. Not just under them, but actually with them, where you can touch them.

“The dragons are above us,” Aemond fills the silence. “And the walls in this room are made of sand, so slowly with the fire from the dragons, glass is being made.”

You look at him completely mesmerized, but at that moment as your eyes take him in across the room, you’re struck with awe as you catch how the shimmering light doesn’t only reflect on the walls and ceiling, but on him too.

Hundreds of lights bask his face and bounce off the sapphire in his eye socket, making him look completely divine, ethereal, beautiful.

Can he see your awe? Can he see it in your soft dilated eyes? In your soft formed smile? Or in your stillness, as you can’t make yourself move with the way you’re completely blown away by the room and him?

“Come,” he invites you further in as he focuses just on you. The glimmering lights don’t manage to steal his attention with you there. You’re all he focuses on, you’re the keeper of his attention, more so when you slowly make yourself to him and the light bounces off the golden shimmer on your gown, making you look like the sun itself. Only brighter. And unlike the sun, you’re ethereal, and instead of burning his eye like the sun does, you make his eye soften and fill with admiration and awe.

“You know I can’t ask how you know about this room,” you finally manage to speak when you meet him in the middle. “Because I know you. You would sneak to the Dragonpit to try and steal our dragons.” You giggle.

He smiles as he turns his head away. “I was desperate,” he rebuttals to your comment.

You hum and lean towards him to add a memory. “Yeah, I caught you singing to a dragon egg once, in…”

“Hopes it would hatch,” Aemond and you finish in sync.

You beam at him and nod slowly. “Yes,” you say thoughtfully and watch him for a lingering moment as you realize that all the tension ceased to exist the moment this room began to shine.

“Wow,” you whisper and slowly spin around to keep admiring the room. “How come you never brought me here before?” You can’t help but ask.

Aemond follows after you as you just wander the room. “I had forgotten about it until recently,” he admits. “And before you left I just did not want to put you in danger by sneaking out here.”

You glance at him with an amused smile before you approach a wall and capture a beam of light in your palm.

“Do you like it?” He asks for validation, making you drop your hand to look at him with a tender look before you nod.

“I love it. You brought the stars down to me,” you muse, and can’t look away from him, you can’t stay from him either. Your heart takes you to him. And without remembering your anger, or the fight you just had not long ago, you slowly press your hands on his chest to be even closer.

Aemond takes his free hand and grabs one of your elbows to be even more connected to each other, finding that you can’t stand being just a hair's breadth away from each other, you need to be closer as if you were one.

You need to be one. Share one beating heart. So you both lean in as you’re driven by a burning desire, but just as the warmth of his lips wash over you, you suddenly come to a halt because of a memory your mind conjured up of him killing Lucerys.

Yet you don’t lead the moment to resentment, you stay close as your anger returns and murmur against his lips. “I would have loved you without a dragon, you know that?”

A short silence follows where all he does is stare at your lips before he speaks up. “I would have not felt complete without one.”

You shake your head and counter his statement. “Not true, I would have completed you. Like I do now.”

Aemond’s lips part and yours follow to do the same but neither of you take the first leap. Him because he’s so taken back by what you said; and you because your anger stops you until you remember why you’re here.

Yet once your lips crash on his, you completely melt, your heart bursts with joy, and your burning desire engulfs your entire body, pushing you to slide your hands around his neck, and leading you to take control of the kiss and move in sync with each other with a sense of longing and hot passion that you can’t deny, that makes his hand find your cheek to bring your closer.

However, just as you want to deepen the kiss Aemond pulls away to seek what will assure him. “Do you love me now?”

You part your lips, but a single breath unfurls over his lips. You want to say yes, but your anger, and maybe a little bit of your hatred stops you and guides you to redirect. “Can I be honest?” You ask, making him blink repeatedly but not respond, so you go on. “My heart swoons for you, my desire burns for you, but a part of me weeps.”

Aemond’s hand slowly falls from your cheek, and his eyes bat frantically as he tries to beat away the tear that comes, but he can’t push it away, it glosses his eye.

“But Aemond,” you quickly interject and tilt your head down to meet his face.

He looks away but you find his gaze right away.

“Aemond. My Aemond,” you call again just as softly, and his eye goes soft at the utter of those last words. “It does not mean I have given up on you,” you lie, or so you tell yourself. “I am yours. I still desire you just as much. I just…need time.”

Aemond looks at you for a lingering moment before you lean in and press a kiss on his lips. He’s still at first as he’s still in disbelief over the answer he didn’t expect. He should have seen it coming, but he didn’t expect it because he was hopeful out of his own selfish desire.

Now that he’s heard you he should give up. He wants all of you or none of you. Yet he also can’t let you go, he doesn't let you go because he is selfish and doesn’t want to see anyone else with you, but also because you are his light at the end of the tunnel. That Red Priestess was right, he’s in the dark without your love, and without you. That’s why he keeps trying to gain your love, because if he gives up who else will love him like you do? Who will complete him like you do?

Only you have given him the love he seeks and he cannot let that go.

Thus he kisses you back as if he wants to devour you, hoping that’s a step in the right direction.

You grab his face and pull him closer, making him stumble you both toward the wall where he drops the torch on the ground to hold you against him.

However, just as you both start to get lost in your needy desire a voice booms. “Who’s there?”

You rip away from each other and watch the corridor with your breaths held in wait, hoping that the voice doesn’t come your way.

Albeit moments later footsteps approach and even if you would not get in trouble if you were caught, you still grab his hand and pull him away with you with no light to guide the way. You remember the path and run out with him.

“Why—”

“Just go!” You exclaim excitedly with your heart pounding in your ears, and never once looking back. You run and run with him still attached to you.

Once you’re out under the natural light of the sky and not threatened with getting caught, you can’t help but burst out laughing. Aemond watches you as he catches his breath, and can’t help but smile as he sees how the joy perks your eyes up. He then chuckles softly as your own laugh is contagious.

“One more,” you pause and catch your breath before you continue. “One more stop.”

Aemond’s laugh dies with yours and his smile fades as he’s confused considering the confession you gave him just now.

“I want to show you a better time than your whore did,” you answer his confusion, causing him to drop his head and shake it.

“I told you it was not like that,” he mutters.

You fiddle with the buckles on his vest and shrug him off. “Well, I still want to show you a good time at your brothel. I want to show you that only I can give you what you like, hm?”

Aemond bats his eye up and a smirk perks the corner of his lips up, giving you the answer without needing to say it.

Albeit before you take his hand to go to your next stop you offer him an out. “Unless you are not comfortable. We can go back home and go to a different room.”

Aemond glances past you and seems to remember that there’s one small person stopping you from going to the comforts of your own chambers. “No, we can go.” He says as he looks at you, letting you take his hand now.

However, Aemond ends up leading the way because you in fact have never been to any brothel. You have passed through the Street of Silk, but that’s the extent of that.

And unlike the streets you took to reach the Dragonpit, the moment you start to approach the Street of Silk, signs of life begin to show with firelight lighting a path, people drunkenly stumbling down streets, and chatter, laughter, singing, music, and lewd noises getting louder and more frequent.

It all mostly works to discourage you, you find yourself preferring going to taverns where you can drink, dance, and sing from occasion to occasion. Yet, you don’t take back your offer, you push forward, and just think about how much this could please Aemond and garner more of his trust so you can move around the castle more freely, and maybe get Astraea out of her chains. You don’t feel safe without her roaming the skies.

“Here,” Aemond finally brings you to a brothel a bit smaller than others you have passed, but still elegant inside and very much busy, or so it seems when you step inside.

If only the smell was just as elegant. It smells like sweat, sex, and a bad attempt at mixing sweet-smelling incense. The women who seem to work here are all beautiful though; in their thin silk and sheer gowns that leave little for the imagination, while some wear nothing at all but their jewelry to catch the wandering eye—they all honestly make you feel overdressed.

“My Prince,” a soothing voice greets your husband as they approach you.

“We just need a room,” Aemond brushes off the older woman with long brown hair that’s partially picked up in an intricate bun, while the rest is resting in a long braid. “Can we get one or not?” He follows up by asking hurryingly.

The woman does not attempt to meet his rush, her sharp eyes find you and take you in, making you raise your head higher to exude confidence and charm when really you're intimidated by her and this place in general.

Not like she can see through you, she does immediately know who you are and sees the very picture of royalty and sophistication; not only in the expensive gown and the luxurious jewelry clung onto you, but in the way you carry yourself, the way your nose is raised in the air, showing that you know that no one in the world can compare to you or touch you in any way.

“Yes,” the woman finally gives Aemond his answer and looks at him for a lingering second, making you follow her line of gaze and see that he’s averting his gaze and that she's the woman he came to see. There’s no need for an explanation, you can see it in her small smug smile, and his lack of focus.

But why her? You can’t help but wonder as you discreetly study her. Is it her experience? Her age? Does he fancy older women? Or is it her beauty? She’s a very refined beauty. She looks poised too. Is that what brought Aemond to her arms?

“Come with me,” the woman finally releases you from your spots and guides you down the room, letting you see what more the fine establishment has to offer, and what more it hides behind closed curtains.

You can’t say she went far, the house is not big, but you do linger behind when a tall slender woman bending like she was made of dough catches your eye.

She’s so impressive! It’s amazing how her legs can go so far back with no sign that it hurts her in any way. You would be envious but you’re just awestruck. You could watch her forever.

Nevertheless, not too long after you departed, Aemond calls out for you, so you steal one last glance at the woman before you find yourself in an empty room occupied by a round bed, and hundreds of candles.

“Thank you,” you tell the woman over your shoulder, proving to not be the snobby princess she thought you were.

“Of course.” She nods and offers you a much kinder smile. “If you need anything ring the bell,” she lets you know, making you smile at her before she leaves Aemond and you in the candle-lit room that smells like vanilla.

“Was it her?” You ask right away as you wander behind the bed to hover your palm over the fire burning away the wax of the candles.

“Does it matter?” Aemond tries to avoid the question, but you look at him and press him.

“Just a little,” you lie and he sees that with the way the fire catches the gloss over the affliction in your eyes as if your life depends on his answer.

“It…” he hesitates and you assume the answer, but you still wait desperately in hopes you’re wrong.

“It was, but I told you, we just shared a bed and she listened to my sorrows.”

You let out a shaky breath and your affliction is resolved to self-torment as you’re filled with self-doubt about yourself for the first time.

Never in your life have you ever been self-conscious, you were always proud of your looks, you took pride in your beauty and never shied away to try and prove otherwise. But now…you can’t help it from taking root within you.

You shouldn’t, you know that. You shouldn’t feel jealous or hurt by his choices. You try so hard to be unaffected by this ordeal, but you can’t fight it off. You’re wounded, and shine a little less, as if you're a shining star in the sky that he dims.

“I told you,” Aemond keeps saying as you have your back turned to him. “She doesn’t compare to you. No one does.”

You stay quiet and keep your back turned as you try to fight off your tears, and really try to fight off the stupid jealousy.

But it really is a bewitching thing.

“We can leave,” Aemond offers, and for a second you’re about to take that chance, but you then remember what brought you here and you know you have to see it through no matter what.

Thus you let out a deep breath and swallow back what torments you. You don’t face him right away, you let him walk up behind you and grab your chin to tilt your cheek to his lips.

“You are mine,” he whispers, making a breath of yours unwantedly draw in. “And I am yours.”

His lips brush against your jaw and burn a line down to the corner of your lips as he keeps tiling your face at his will.

“You are the very breath I need, yet you are the very thing that steals my breath every moment I lay my eye on you,” he whispers against your lips, making you part your lips as if you need his breath. “You are the very definition of beauty and divinity. Every beautiful thing that this damn world has to offer never measures up to your beauty, your grace, the design of your lips, the color of your eyes, and every perimeter that makes you. You plague my every thought, you know that? I would burn the whole world for you. You need only say the word.”

And just like that all your doubt melts away, your reason becomes null, and all your senses turn to a single feeling of needy desire that sets you aflame. You are his, but your heart was not open to him, it was still guarded and he knew that.

“Aemond,” you let out a breathless moan as he presses his needy member against your back and trails his lips along your jaw, making you desperate.

“My love,” he whispers back and presses a kiss on your cheek, causing a pleased groan to escape your lips while you stand there paralyzed unable to think of anything else but what you start to desire.

“I thought,” you pause at the wet feeling of his lips pressing against your neck. “I thought I was here to show you a good time.” You try to laugh, but a trembling breath is all that comes out as he starts to leave a hot and wet trail of kisses back up to your lips as if he's making his mouth try and memorize every inch of that part of your face.

“You are,” he assures you. “You're here. That's all I need to have a good time.”

Your lips tug to a smile and you finally find the strength to peel away far enough to turn and face him.

“No,” you argue and step back as you slip your cloak off before you grab the edge of your sleeves and start to slip the gown off agonizingly slowly, causing his own desire to grow more intensely to the point even his breeches start to feel uncomfortable to have on.

He almost wants to close the space left between you to rip the gown off you, but when he steps forward you flash him a smirk and step back to peel the gown off and let it fall around your feet, leaving yourself only in thin panties that protect your most intimate part.

It would leave little to the imagination, but he knows you inside and out. He knows what you hide and he still salivates.

“Better than your woman out there?” You taunt him in a seductive voice, and he rolls his eye and shakes his head.

“Stop,” he quips. “Don't torment yourself with her. She’s nothing. No one.”

It won’t bring any peace to mind, but you leave it for now and move your hips as you strut to him to press your hands on his chest and then slide them down to unbuckle the buckles that keep his vest closed.

Aemond tries to help you, but you quickly take his hand away and press a kiss on his knuckles before you leave his hand on your breast, causing his breath to catch and his eye to be consumed with even more darkness. Once you've finally done the tedious job of pulling at every buckle you pull his vest and he helps you shrug it off, leaving him in a thin long-sleeved cotton shirt.

“Gods you are more dressed than me,” you laugh. “And here I thought it was your hair that took you long to get dressed.”

He chuckles softly and you share a smile before he pulls his shirt off, feeding your eyes with his beautiful sculpted torso.

“Beautiful,” you whisper before you trail your hands down and unbuckle his belt, causing you both to share a sweet laugh because you have to take more clothes off him.

Before you can attempt to take his breeches off though he steps back to pull his boots off, letting you slip your shoes off too. When there's nothing left for either of you to take care of you get pulled back to him and finally nudge his breeches so he can take them off and leave him naked and vulnerable to you in a room covered with a thick curtain.

Any other time before it would’ve been pretty unbelievable, you both are too possessive over each other to even share a glimpse of each other with anyone else, but right now at this moment, neither of you care.

Then again it’s not like the world outside actually exists; it’s him, you, and your guarded heart refusing to forget what he did, and refusing to give all of yourself back to him—or so that’s what you want to think…

Would a guarded heart really pound at the sight of his member? Would you really desire him as much as you do? Would your body ache for his delicate touch, and for his hard member to complete you if you were guarded?

Perhaps if that’s what you’re pushing yourself to feel. You’re just convincing yourself that you need him in every which way, that he’s all that matters and will matter for the rest of your days. That’s all it is…a hunger for revenge…

That’s why you kiss him with need, without worrying about breathing. He’s all you can need. Him, his thin lips, his tongue fighting yours before you pull away with heavy breaths and push him down to the bed to straddle him.

“<My Aemond,>” you coo in High Valyrian, and feel his tip twitch at those gentle words before he grabs the back of your neck and leans for a kiss, but leaves your mouth waiting as he flips you over to lay you on your back.

“<You are the devil,>” you grumble and he snickers before he presses kisses on your lips, on your chin, up on the tip of your nose, on your scar, and down on your jaw before he brushes the tip of his aquiline nose down your neck.

“Aemond,” you mumble in protest, but he shushes you by pressing his warm lips on your collarbone before he travels down and presses his lips on your breast, leaving his mouth there just for a second, but just enough to make you arch your back and tangle your fingers in his long and soft white silver hair.

You almost don’t want him to move, but he does the best thing and uses his mouth to suck your breast.

“Gods,” you breathe out, making him smile against your flesh before he starts to leave kisses further down your aching body until he comes to a stop on your thigh.

“<Tell me next time how much you need me and I’ll please you,>” he muses as he admires the mess you have between your legs.

“<I need you,>” you whisper desperately and he chuckles before he buries his face in between your legs, taking no time to tease you, he gets right to devouring you.

You try to hold back, but you can’t stop yourself from filling the room with the moans of his name, and small gasps as he drives his tongue deeper. When you begin to roll your hips up to meet the lapping of his tongue, he hooks his arms around your thighs and pins you down, making you increasingly more hot.

At one point you think you can last just to linger in this feeling, but he slides one thumb over to circle your clit and that causes you to grip onto the sheets below you as you’re pushed over the edge right away.

You want to feel ashamed for being consumed by such a pleasure, but you can’t say you remember that shame when that tension snaps and you come undone on his tongue.

Aemond is so consumed by the moment, turned on by the sound of his name coming past your lips and the sounds of pleasure that he alone produced out of you, that he can’t help but come undone moments behind you without you needing to touch him.

Now you would feel pride that you have such an effect on him, but you’re overwhelmed with more soft pleasure as he uses his tongue to clean you up until there’s no trace left of you.

Once he’s done he climbs up to hover over you and steals one look at you, making you smile softly at him, and watch his own lips tug to a mirrored smile before the corner of his lips twitch down and his soft eye is clouded by something dark that's far from lust.

“What is it?” You ask quietly and reach your hand out to grab his cheek.

Aemond’s gaze grows heavy and his eyes droop while a frown wedges itself deeply on his face.

“You must know,” he mutters and slowly grabs your hand. “I am sorry,” his voice comes out soft and apologetic. “About Luke.”

You blink in disbelief and your hand stiffens on his face. He knows you’re going to let go so he keeps your hand pressed against his face.

“I lost my temper,” he mumbles and swallows thickly. “I did not want to kill him. I did not mean it.”

Yes, but his dragon did. A dragon is a part of you when you bond, so Vhagar did not act alone. Her anger may have driven her to act out, but she didn’t do anything he didn’t want to. He knows that. You know that.

Yet you don’t open your mouth to say it. You stay silent and listen with your face growing hard, and your heart no longer dancing out of ecstasy.

“You have to believe me,” he almost pleads for your forgiveness. “I did not mean to kill him. Forgive me.”

Will that bring him back? No. Nothing he says will take back what happened. Lucerys is gone forever because of what he did. You can’t forgive that.

But you don’t tell Aemond that. You bring up your other hand to cup his other cheek and smile at him. “You mean it?” You ask for reassurance.

Aemond leans towards your touch and parts his lips. “I mean it,” he speaks hoarsely.

Despite all the thoughts your mind just conjured, the act of understanding you held falters at the feeling of his neediness feeding off your soft touch, and that blue eye consumed by genuine and sweet sincerity.

Yet you must remain strong…and loyal to your stand of being unforgiving over what he did, you can’t let the wall around your heart crumble. You won’t fall.

Not even as he lays on your side and nuzzles his face against the side of your breast. You do feel a sense of bliss as you make him feel comforted by wrapping your arm around his head and using your fingers to gently caress the side of his head, but that’s it. You don’t listen to your singing heart as he embraces your waist so you won’t go anywhere.

A silence interferes between your nestled-up bodies, and you fight, closing your eyes, finding ease and comfort in his warmth, and in his heart beating against you, assuring you he’s fine. However, you slowly lose your grip and your eyes close, letting a comforting silence linger for a while where only you and him exist.

Neither of you actually fall asleep, you just refuse to let the moment go until it is suddenly interrupted by the sound of the curtain getting ripped open, pulling your eyes open to glance at the intruder, only to grow cold and stiff at the sight of Aegon and his friends, trailing behind him.

You want to alert Aemond, but he turns his attention and finds his brother and his friends too.

And the moment Aegon has the attention of the both of you on him and realizes it’s really Aemond and you on the bed, he bursts out laughing, pulling Aemond to sit up and throw a sheet over your body as you follow him up.

“Aemond, the fierce!” Aegon blurts and points at Aemond as if it’s the funniest thing in the world. Maybe to his drunken mind, it is, but not to his friends, and especially not to you as you see how Aemond recoils into himself as if shielding himself from his brother's torment.

“You know,” Aegon laughs as he stumbles toward the bed, making you scoot closer toward Aemond to shield your body from Aegon’s wandering eyes.

“If it hadn’t been for me, she would’ve been his first. He would’ve saved himself for her,” Aegon continues, only making Aemond stiffen and for his face to fall with hurt that’s obvious to you.

“<Aemond,>” you whisper in High Valyrian and grab his bicep as you feel a growing need to protect him from his brother's continuous bullying that he has yet to grow out of at his big age.

“What a fine, sweet thing,” Aegon teases as he manages to get closer to the point where he climbs on the bed and leans in between Aemond and you. “Did you fuck her like a hound?” He interjects boldly and mocks multiple barks, making your jaw clench, and your quick-grown frustration turn to fury.

“You see,” Aegon directs at his friends who avoid looking at Aemond and never dare look at you.

“< Let's go, my love,>” you insist and lean closer toward him so only he can hear you. “<He's not worth it. Let’s go.>”

“Such is my niece's prowess, that even now my brother will not get tired of her.” Aegon points at you as he looks over to try and catch you exposed, but you hold the sheet tightly against you. “Even after she left.” Aegon laughs.

You sigh deeply and bite back what you want to say to this boy king, instead, you just focus on Aemond.

“<Come on.>” You keep urging him and pull his arm toward you, but it falls limp, making your heartache. You can’t stand seeing him so anguished, you never could stand him being belittled and feeling small. Just like you never found any of Aegon’s pranks funny, Aemond was always your soft spot, and you never let one of Aegon's pranks or mean snide go unpunished.

“Hard luck for your squire though,” Aegon tells his group of friends. “As you can see,” he laughs. “The room is very much occupied.”

He keeps laughing like a madman, finally triggering Aemond’s gaze to go hard at the same time his demeanor shifts from wounded to menacing before he gets up, letting your hand fall off his arm, and making you watch him as he twists around slowly with no care of being seen.

“Your squire is welcome to the room,” Aemond finally breaks his silence and steps off the bed, but not before calling out your name and following with a demand. “Let’s go.”

Aegon chuckles and wiggles his fingers to try and touch your leg, but you quickly pull your leg away and slide off the bed, making sure to keep the sheet on while you grab yours and Aemond’s stuff from the floor, before you follow after him in a tense silence that you don’t break while you change. That tension intensifies and changes the atmosphere you once carried as you walk back to the Red Keep. It stays when you get home and when you get ready for bed, killing any attempt to rekindle the passion you were lost in.

You have a dire need to talk to him, but at every attempt, he meets you with a cold shoulder. He stays mute as if Aegon had cut out his tongue when he left that brothel.

And perhaps you should leave it be, pass it off as cruel mocking, after all, what can you do now that Aegon is King?

There’s no way to make him pay back for what he said without facing some kind of consequence, and right now you need to avoid getting in trouble.

Yet how can you leave the topic untouched? You look at Aemond and your heart aches at the mere sight of the frown on his lips, and at the dullness that takes over his eye as he can’t help but feel ashamed, angry, and most of all hurt after being ridiculed by his brother.

“Aemond?” You call out in the silence of the room to gain his attention that’s turned away from you, but he doesn’t respond right away, even if you know he’s far from being asleep.

“Can we talk about it?” You probe on the matter.

“No,” he deadpans.

You sigh and take advantage that Aerion is not here to persist harder even if you have the chance to leave it be. After all, doesn't he deserve it? This feeling that plagues him so? It’s a piece of justice, isn’t it?

No…you can’t leave it be. And it’s not out of ill intent either. You push because you want to comfort his tormented soul. “At least look at me.”

Aemond’s back rises and falls before he turns around with his long hair falling over his face, making you instinctively brush his hair back behind his ear before you slide your hand down and gently stroke his cheek, noticing that he’s not even looking at you.

“I do not need your pity,” he argues, trying to sound hardened and serious, but you hear the falter in his voice that gives him away and actually seeks your comfort.

“It’s not pity,” you contradict him with the truth, causing him to scoff as he keeps his eye averted, but also makes no effort to take your hand off his cheek.

“It is. You are only doing this because of what happened,” Aemond remarks. “You can not stand me.”

You swallow back thickly and lean your face closer so he can hear your whispers of the truth. “If that was true would I be here? Grabbing your face the way I am? Would I be here on this same bed?”

“I made you be here,” he argues and slowly brings his eyes up to meet your gaze without that fury that weighed him down as all he thought about was the shame Aegon brought him publicly. He looks at you now with that hurt he can’t surpass, it clings onto him and makes his eye glossy and soft. He does try to rip away the hurt to show you fury, but he looks at you now, right across from him, and he can’t put up that facade.

That mask of invincibility and terror he carries is nonexistent with you at this very moment because you are his peace. The one who loves him with their whole heart, with no questions asked, no fear or hesitation despite the new man he became after being mutilated. Who can say that? Who can prove that the way you do every time you smile at him tenderly in public, look at him with love, and touch his face ever so softly despite the scar and missing eye that ruined his face? No one but you.

No one but you can ever read him without a need for words, just an exchange of looks without mistranslating a single look of snide that he throws at someone or something foolish, and without mistranslating something he finds humorous but can’t express in the masses.

Maybe he should detach himself from you, and learn to live without all that you offer him. You are the enemy's daughter after all, he knows the love you harbor for them is not dead. Yet he’s selfish, he can’t let go. He realizes that. Just like he realizes that he can’t be mad at you now.

He realizes you can leave again, pledge your fealty to your mother once again and he would be offended but that would not make him love you any less. There are some things he won’t forgive, he knows that, but besides those exceptions, you can hurt him and he will never let you go because you are the one who loves him the way he wants to be loved.

You prove that by coming back. Even if you had all the freedom with your mother you still came back to him. That’s proof.

Just like there’s proof now by the way you look at him with a tender look rather than one full of resentment.

“I’m here because I want to be here,” you dismiss his accusation that was right at first, but now is far from the truth. “Because I care for you, Aemond. I care,” you insist, but not to convince yourself, to convince him. “I…” you hesitate and struggle to say the next words that are coming to your mouth, but not because you don’t mean them and it pains you to say them to someone who betrayed you. You hesitate because you are struck with realization at that moment too.

As you lose yourself in his eye and the deep blue sapphire in his eye socket, you see the truth looking right back at you. You do love him despite what he did, despite his darkness, his selfishness, and his faults. You tried to hate him, tried putting up a wall, but that was merely an attempt, there was never a wall around your heart. You only told yourself that in hopes that would distance yourself from him, but you realize here and now that you love him.

He may be destruction incarnate, a demon in disguise, but you love him. Despite his betrayal, despite him visiting a brothel. You wholeheartedly, undoubtedly love him.

It’s a wild realization if it was one at all, but you cannot pretend otherwise.

Who will love you selfishly the way he does? He would burn the world for you, and you know that is a hard truth, but you love that promise. You hate that you love it, you don’t want to love him, but you cannot help it, you cannot push it away, you are devoted to him just as much as he’s devoted to you.

No one will understand your darkness that you try to hide the way he does. No one will love your hunger for power the way he does, and he would never find those traits shameful the way you find them shameful about yourself. He cherishes you, loves you despite it all, and you love him despite it all.

You love each other desperately and madly. After all, you are one flesh, one heart, and one soul, now and forever.

“I love you,” you spit out and grab his cheek firmly. “I love you that’s why I’m here,” you express with a wobbly smile. “That’s why I want to talk about what troubles you because I love you and I cannot stand seeing you hurt.” You nod in reassurance and his breath catches before he leans his face against your touch and kisses the heel of your hand.

“I love you too,” he doesn’t hesitate to redirect without losing sight of your gaze. “I always have. I always will.”

You smile wider and scoot closer toward him to nuzzle your face against his chest, whilst you also snake your arm around him and rub circles on his back with your thumb, making him slink his arm around your neck to caress the back of your head.

“Your place is with me,” he assures you of that. “You belong here. I will protect you here.”

You smile against his flesh and speak against him, causing goosebumps to grow along his skin. “And I will protect you.”

Aemond huffs in protest but you know he loves that shit.

“I mean it,” you continue sweetly. “There’s not much I can do right now, but I can still look out for you. I will. We’re what matters most in this world, Aemond. Us and our son. No matter the cost.” You voice with no hint of that sweet honey, you mean it fiercely and prove your ferocity by pulling back to face him with flickers of that darkness in your eyes.

“Do you understand?” You press to assure him but also seek reassurance for yourself.

Aemond lowers his head to meet your gaze with that same fire in his eye. No questions asked, and no hesitation to consider. “I know. No matter the cost. With fire and blood.”

The corner of your lips pull to a smirk and you seal that fierce dedication with a kiss on his lips. When you pull back you see thoughts forming behind his eye that deepen that smirk before he presses a kiss on your forehead.

You smile in return and as he faces you you return to what you initially needed his attention for. “You are more fierce than he is. You know that.”

Aemond’s eye flickers down, and you slide your hand over to grab the back of his neck. “He just knows that he has more power over you,” you make sure he hears what you have been thinking of since Aegon interrupted your moment together.

“He knows you won’t react because he’s king, but that doesn’t mean a thing. You are still you,” you continue without falter and regain his unwavering attention. “You are stronger. More powerful. Loyal, kind, and more fierce in a way he will never be. You are Vhagar’s rider. You are what he will never be.”

Aemond’s lips part, and his eye widens while also growing dark with desire. An intense ferocity captures him in a stupor, but he quickly snaps out of it to grab your face and kiss you fiercely.

You take a second to grasp this burst of passion, but you snap out of your surprise quickly and kiss him back with the same energy while also letting him take complete control of the heated moment that turns into a passionate night with little sleep.

——

*THE NEXT MORNING*

“What will you do today?” You ask Aemond as you gently massage his temple with your thumbs while he lays his head on your lap.

“With Cole gone a little less, but I have made it my job to attend more council meetings, to be present while war plans are made. But this morning I will go patrol on top of Vhagar, so I will go to that soon after breaking fast, and perhaps get some training in after.”

You scoff softly. “Oh because you need it?” You tease and look over at Aerion sitting on Aemond’s torso. “Right little dragon? Your papa does not need to train.”

Aerion glances at you before looking back at Aemond and reaching for the toy Aemond holds up for him.

“Refining my skill is necessary,” Aemond finally interjects. “Why would I hold myself back from achieving a new skill in a time like now?”

You hum and tilt your head as you gently slide your thumbs down to massage his cheekbones. “Maybe I could be your sparring partner today? Or you could teach me a skill or two?” You smirk, and his eye snaps over to you as his lips stay still before they tilt towards a small smirk.

“Why would I refrain you from getting better, my love? Here I thought you wanted to be more like Queen Rhaenys?”

You snicker and roll your head away. “She was an excellent dragon rider, but I do not wish to limit myself to one thing especially now during war. I may not always have my dragon to protect me, things happen unexpectedly. I cannot always count on you, you’re busy. I do not want to be helpless when the time comes.”

He hums and comments. “You are not. You have skill.”

“Not excellent skill,” you press and stop your thumbs to hold his gaze. “I want to be great.”

Aemond puts the toy down to reach over and cradle your cheek. “And great you are, but…if you wish me to teach you I will help, maybe then you will not need that sworn protector:”

You snicker and lean down to speak against his lips in Valyrian. “<Don't be jealous my love.>”

“<I chose one for you for a reason, and you went on to choose a bastard,>” he rebuttals and his grip turns firm.

“<You chose an old man,” you remark. “Who would need to be changed the way I change Aerion, no thank you.>”

“A skilled knight.”

“An old man.”

Aemond groans and you lean back, causing Aemond’s hand to fall. “Meet Ser Jason, and watch him fight,” you defend your sworn protector. “He’s very skilled and a quick thinker. He used his cloak to blind his opponent, and! He killed a Dothraki screamer. How great is that?! He also fought at the Step Stones with Daemon.”

Aemond frowns and turns his focus to Aerion grabbing his little foot.

“I trust him,” you plead for the knight's case. “Do you not trust me?”

Aemond doesn’t look at you but he responds. “I will slay him if he does not do his job.”

There’s no need for a clear answer, that was his agreement.

“What will you do today?” He then changes the subject.

You pout and shrug. “Nothing and then more of nothing. I am not allowed to do anything.” You grumble, making him smile.

“Don't laugh,” you scold him and smack his shoulder. “You know I detest being bored, Aemond.”

“What would you do in Dragonstone?” He asks.

You sigh and shrug. “A bit more, I would attend council meetings, but my mother did not let us do anything either.”

He hums and reaches his hand over to caress your knee before he sits up and replaces his head with Aerion instead.

“I have something for you,” he shares, piquing your curiosity.

“A gift?” You squeal as he walks over to a shelf to grab a box before he returns to the bed and places the box down by your lap.

“I hope you like it,” he says and sits on the edge of the bed. “It took me a while to find it.”

You beam at him and secure your arm around Aerion before you reach over and pull the lid off, finding a red-leathered heart-shaped book that strikes you with awe the very moment you lay your eyes on it.

You almost do not want to touch it, it looks too precious to touch, but you can’t contain your excitement, you take the book from the box and realize it’s a songbook from Old Valyria.

“<Songs and Ballads of Valyria.> You read the gold title out loud in your mother tongue. “<Amazing,>” you muse as you admire the cover and the shape of the book. “<It must have been a pain to find it.>”

You proceed to open the book and flip through the pages to take a glimpse at all the different songs it contains.

“You like singing in High Valyrian,” Aemond brings up. “I thought it would be appropriate for you to have songs from where we come from.”

Your heart swoons and when you look over at him your eyes water. “Thank you, my love,” you whisper and lean over to him to press a lingering kiss on his lips.

Guilt begins to wedge itself within you, threatening to spoil the moment, but you refuse to be consumed by anything but appreciation and bliss at this very moment.

If your mind wants to torment you then it can do it later when you’re not with Aemond. Not now.

Even then you’ll bury it if you must.

“Maybe I’ll sing you something later if you come find me,” you suggest seductively before you lean in and bite his bottom lip.

Aemond groans softly in response, making you snicker before you sit up and climb off the bed to try and get the morning started before you’re forced.

“I'll be lonely all day, under the watchful of my sworn protector,” you feign a sigh and you hear Aemond get on his feet.

When you peer back he looks bothered so you offer him a sweet grin before you waltz over to put Aerion down on the ground protected by blankets and multiple fluffy pillows so you can go on and start your day before the morning slips from your fingers.

Albeit you didn’t realize how much you enjoyed your moment of peace. The war did not exist in the confinement of your chambers as you ate breakfast. It felt like the days before the tensions of war; calm, blissful, filled with long talks as you both bring up whatever comes to mind, and filled with wonder as you watch your son interact with the world.

As expected though the illusion breaks when the doors to your quarters open and Aemond parts in his way, and you go in your way; finding yourself in the Godswood thinking of one thing.

How could you be so horrible?

Kissing Cregan was one thing, but laying with him and mayhaps having his babe?

Your brothers suffered because of their parentage, do you want the same bestowed upon your children? Or do you want something more horrible cast upon them if they happen to be his and come out looking like him?

Aemond would never forgive that betrayal, he would not want that to besmirch his name. He would kill you too. Do you want that?

Do you want him to hate you?

If the babes are Cregan’s anyway, they can be Aemond’s. You’re choosing to blindly believe that the babes Helaena said you’d have, are Aemond’s. You can’t believe otherwise for your sanity…unless…

You take something stronger than moontea?

But what fault do the babes have for your sins? And if they are Aemond’s and you rob them of their lives?

You can’t do that, no matter how much that would spare you of any troubles.

Gods!

You fall on your knees and look up at the crying face on the Weirwood tree, unknowingly meeting the intent gaze of Cregan Stark who is leagues away, but looking upon the same crying face thinking of you as he reads the letter you sent with haste before you left—more like before you run from Dragonstone.

He would understand. Only because you aren’t actually married to him, but he would understand and he wouldn’t shame you. He would help in some way…

If you could see him, or continue writing to him, or if he was here. But he’s not here, no one can help you, you have to suffer through this alone because it’s a mistake you made. You must pay its price and hope, pray even that the babes are fully Aemond’s.

And after you pray and beg under your breath with thick tears rolling down your cheeks, you have to pick yourself up and play the part; the dutiful wife as Daemon said.

Only you aren’t really dutiful, nor is it all pretend, you are here aren’t you? In his protective care, marking his lips and face with kisses; knowing only your lips have touched him. You're looking deep into his soul through his eye. You're wrapped in his arms that you find so secure and holy in the madness of war, so what’s a little selfish take in this great suffering?

Daemon pushed you into Aemond’s arms, you didn’t plan to come back, but he pushed you here, so why can’t you let Aemond feed your needy heart his love? And why can’t you feed his starving heart more of your love while you still stay faithful to your mother?

There’s no sin in loving.

Right?

“Right,” you sigh deeply and push yourself to your feet to sit against the white trunk instead and finally take a deep dive into the book Aemond gave you, finding yourself drawn to one specific ballad that you start to mutter before you hum along quietly to try and find a tempo.

When it seems that you have the right beat you start quietly singing to the brisk air, unbeknownst to you having your song travel into the ears of your sworn protector, and capturing his interest to the point he has to peer back at you over his shoulder to stare. He tries to focus on his task at hand, but no matter how hard he tries, his attention draws back to you, as if your voice had bewitched him.

He can't understand what it is you’re singing about, nor does he want to ask because it sounds so sacred. Albeit you manage to catch his curious attention and interject to fill the curiosity mingling in his deep blue eyes.

“It's about the God of the Sea loving both the Goddess of the Sun and Sky and the Goddess of the Moon and Stars.”

Ser Jason snaps his attention ahead with reddening cheeks, and you continue to feed his curiosity.

“To summarize the ballad, the God couldn’t pick between the two, until fate picked for him by killing the Goddess of the Moon and Stars. However,” you sigh and look back at your pages to glance at the ballad. “…Upon seeing her death, carrying her in his arms, he realizes when it’s too late that he always loved the Goddess of the Moon and Stars, for she was his soulmate. Without the moon and the stars who would shine his dark waters, who would bring days to an end, who would bring tides, and the very gravity that holds him down to earth?”

Ser Jason hums before his armor clatters against each other as he turns to face you.

“What a selfish god,” he shamelessly gives his opinion, bringing a smile to your lips that makes a hotter heat unfurl under his cheeks.

“Aren't they all?” You say back and drift your gaze to him. “No matter how gracious one god is, they are all selfish in some way.”

Ser Jason hums and can’t help himself from leaving his post and approaching you.

“You want to know why?” He asks and you probe with hum as you put your book down against your lap.

“Because they don’t live amongst us…”mortals”…no matter how much they wish to relate to us or say they do, they will never be us.” He says and shakes his head. “They never suffer the same because they are the ones that bring that suffering.”

You blink slowly in awe and can’t help your lips from lifting to a softer smile. “Is that so?” You muse.

Ser Jason holds your gaze and blinks repeatedly as if in disbelief of what he’s seeing whilst he parts his lips, but says nothing but a long ‘uh’ as he watches you wide-eyed.

Your eyebrows furrow in confusion and you press him. “Ser?”

Ser Jason clears his throat and nods harshly before he giggles nervously and finally gives his response. “It is…It’s, uh, the harsh reality that you learn in the suffering.”

You hum and hold the book against your chest to lean forward and question him. “Are you from King’s Landing, Ser?”

The knight nods. “Born just in the Street of Silk, before I was raised in Flea bottom until I got good enough with a sword and went to fight for a living.”

“Couldn’t stand the suffering?” You ask and he scoffs softly as he nods

“Exactly,” he grins. “I decided to test fate and suffer in violence instead.”

You huff softly in response and narrow your gaze to continue questioning him so you can know more about him, but not before you check the entrance to make sure Aemond isn’t coming and overreacts.

“Tell me Ser, what led you to fight a Dothraki Screamer?”

The man smiles at the ground, making those deep-set dimples of his make an appearance on his face. “Adventure,” he says. “Access to money…I also had nothing waiting for me here, so after the Step Stones I set sail to different ports, met different people, and saw all kinds of wonders.”

Your eyes fill with wonder as you hear all that you wished to do and be once upon a time.

“Then…why did you come back?” You can’t help but ask and glance at the ground. “There’s nothing too wonderful about this place,” you say as if it was muscle memory to say those words you thought long forgotten. “Especially now with war so rampant.”

You look back at the knight, and he shrugs whilst he meets your gaze with a look of sincerity. “It’s home. No matter the bad memories, or the suffering. Home called me back.”

Your gaze falters and you lose yourself deep in thought about those marvelous wonders you will never see, only hear about from mouths like his.

“Besides, I do have my father…” he trails off and clears his throat as he focuses on something else. You follow his line of gaze and see Alicent walking in the Godswood.

“Your Grace,” Ser Jason greets and bows his head as he closes and opens his hand.

Alicent stares at him for a long second, before she stops in her path and brings up a question. “I cannot say I have seen you before, what is your name?”

Ser Jason swallows back nervously and shakes his head. “My name. I am new,” he stammers. “I am new working within the castle. My name is Ser Jason Waters.”

“My sworn protector,” you clarify for him.

Alicent glances at you and then looks back at the Knight with a gentle smile. “I see,” she says.

Ser Jason lingers there awkwardly for a moment and Alicent keeps staring at him waiting for him to move away, but he doesn’t seem to understand so you interject. “Go back to where you were Ser, it’s quite alright.”

Ser Jason nods rapidly before he walks away, making Alicent wait until where he's supposed to be before she continues her path toward you.

“Princess, I thought I would find you here,” she directs at you with a sweet smile you find quite grotesque and all too fake.

“Here I am,” you mutter and stand to your feet. “Enjoying the stillness of the Godswood.”

She hums and holds her hands in front of her as she brings herself to a stop close to you. “I understand. The Red Keep has gotten quite rowdy with everyone moving about.”

You offer her a half smile in response before you glance around as if that will give you the answer as to why she came to you.

“I hope everything is going well with Aemond, I know men sometimes find it difficult to understand our troubles,” she says in an attempt to what? Be nice? Be nosy?

“Well,” you roll out and sigh. “Luckily, Aemond and I have been childhood friends. Growing up together helped us understand each other, so yes there has been difficulty, but we understand each other's troubles quite well.”

She didn’t get the answer she sought but she doesn’t press for a clarification, she just offers you a tight-lipped smile and mutters. “That makes me glad.”

You nod stiffly and purse your lips together before you just decide to cut this formality off and get to what she needs. “Do you need something from me, your Grace, or am I just being blessed with your company?”

She hums with a smile and steps closer, making sure to look over her shoulder once before she comes to a stop very close to you, causing your gaze to narrow as your eyebrows try to meet together.

“With us living together for so long, I like to say I know you like I know my children.”

That’s funny.

“I know that sitting and doing nothing makes you restless,” you let her get to the point because you’re now more curious than ever. “Thus I came to you to offer my help. Or more so my partnership.”

Your eyebrows soothe for a second but soon rise with your amused disbelief.

“We are surrounded by men,” she goes on with no clue as to what’s obviously playing on your face. “Who often think too rash and don’t take rationality under consideration. That’s where we come in, but they don’t tend to listen to the kinder voices.”

“No,” you input as you fiddle with the long smooth pearl snood flowing down with the length of your hair.

“But we must persist, be their rationality. But we can’t do that alone, as a woman it’s important we stick together. Be a force to get in their minds. That’s why I thought we could work together and get them to listen to what we plan out.”

Your gaze flickers down as you nod slowly in comprehension, letting her believe you actually fall for her crap and take it to heart before you start to laugh and face her with an all too menacing smile.

“No,” you snap as your laugh dies and brings your lips down to a harsh frown as your eyes harden. “You do not know me, your Grace. You have no idea who I am, which is telling, really,” you feign a laugh and step closer to tilt your head and narrow your fierce glare. “Why should I ever consider working with you?”

She blinks repeatedly as she’s caught off guard, and steps back.

“I may be at odds with my mother,” you lie. “But I do not forget your treatment, the snide, the torment. The way you made her walk up flights of stairs mere minutes after labor.”

Alicent’s eyebrows furrow, but then quickly knot together as her brown eyes gleam with quick tears, and a long frown grows on her face.

“And then there was me, you sent me away across the country to get back at my mother for something I did not do. I was trying to stop them and you sent me away when I easily could have been your ward, but no. You are no ally, no friend. You are mean and I will never work with you.” You give her your response and look her up and down, finding that frown pretty pathetic.

“But I will tell you this,” you add one more thing in a whisper. “As a suggestion. Leave, Your Grace. There’s no husband for you to tend to anymore. You will find peace in the religion you grip onto as if it’s your salivation. Woman to woman.” You hum and curtsy before you walk past her.

“And you,” she tries to get the last word in. “What will you do? There’s nothing for you to do here but tend to your husband. They will never hear your counsel. He will never hear it.”

You stop and draw out a deep breath. “I have a dragon, I have skill with a sword, not perfect but it is a skill, and most of all I have his trust,” you finally give her the answer she was seeking before. “He does trust me, but you know that.”

You look at her over your shoulder and offer her a sweet smile before you turn your head away and roll your eyes.

Perhaps if she had been nice she would have gained you as an ally, but you do not forget a slight. Especially when it comes to her hurting your mother.

——

*SOMETIME LATER*

“It’s nice being away from the stench of the city,” you say fondly as you hurry down to a small patio hidden below the castle where the waves crash on the rocks below and bring a nice refreshing mist where the salt filters in your nose, and the noise of the city and the castle drowns out.

“With those Rat Catchers still on the walls the air reeks even from my balcony,” you complain to Ser Jason who listens maybe because he is paid to, but he listens nonetheless.

“It's a poor sight,” the knight says from behind you. “Some of those men were innocent…”

You peek over at him and stay quiet for a moment before you rebuttal. “So was the boy.”

Ser Jason meets your gaze and he keeps his eyes on you for a while as if challenging you, so you fight right back with more fire, making him look down before he moves his eyes ahead to look out for trouble.

“Could I ask,” you shift the subject to a less tense topic. “How did Daemon come to recruit you?”

“Well, the squadron I was in—”

“No,” you cut him off. “I am referring to this job right now. Did he just recognize you and throw you a sack of coins?”

Ser Jason glances at you and you make a quick stop to let him catch up to you before you continue ahead slowly.

“Well, he did give me gold,” he says under his breath, so it's not possible for someone can hear him in the solitude of this path. “But we did not just bump into each other…he actually came looking for me,” he pauses, and his gaze flickers down. “I was his squire at the Stepstones, but he soon released me and gave me a higher rank to go with my skill. I suppose he remembered me and the stories I would tell him of where I was from.”

You hum and scoff in surprise. “That’s unlike him.”

Ser Jason nods and laughs nervously before he throws his head up and looks at you. “He did threaten me after finding me so he stayed himself.”

You huff in amusement and don’t want to ask but you can’t help yourself. “What did he say?”

He clears his throat. “If anything happens to the princess and that babe I will personally come burn you alive after I have gutted you alive,” he says as he mocks Daemon’s voice, making you giggle.

“Nice,” you praise him, causing him to realize what he just did and grow flustered.

“I did not mean to, I mean, I am sorry. I should not have done that,” he stammers and you shake your head.

“Do not worry about it Ser, I found it amusing and accurate.”

Besides it does take you by surprise that Daemon would…care so much as to threaten him with such violence for Aerion and you.

“Many of my protectors before have been older and quite stiff, so it is refreshing to have someone to talk to,” you tell him sincerely. “Especially in a time like now. Do not worry alright?”

Ser Jason's lips part and a red tint takes over his cheeks as his eyes soften. Yet you don’t pay attention to the way his eyes lock on you or the way his breath stills for a second, you manage to finally catch sight of your small lookout and find a Septon and a Septa already there.

What a damn bummer! You wanted to be alone!

Whatever you’ll have to stick to one side then.

“I like to escape here,” you tell Ser Jason as you get ahead eagerly. “It’s peaceful, and when I was a girl since I was not allowed to train with the boys I would come and practice with a sword and strawman everything I watched them do. My mother would get me in trouble though, I tended to go down to the rocks to feel the water, so she said that the waves were too big and wild here and one could take me. But I never listened.”

“Did you ever get close?” The knight asks and you look back at him with a grin.

“Once, just do not tell my mother.”

He laughs under his breath and you make it to the patio, trying to avoid any eye contact from the Septon and Septa, so they would not come speak to you, but you do sneak a glance at the Septon posted behind the Septa, and find yourself a bit drawn by the man as you feel like you recognize his old face.

Before you can take a good look he turns his face away, but it doesn't take away from the fact that his face is really oddly familiar, you just need one good look.

Yet you don’t try because that would mean having to walk back and that would be awkward, so you go sit on the empty bench and just admire the waves the ocean throws at the rocks. There’s no attempt to talk to Ser Jason, you do not want to fill your silence at this moment. All you want to do is sit in silence and not be tormented by memories or running thoughts that spread like a web.

However, your moment of peace comes to an abrupt end when the Septa comes to sit next to you.

She could have stayed where she was but she moved out of her way to come sit next to you. Isn’t that fucking great!

You had forgotten how much you hate Septa’s.

You do bite your tongue though and just keep watching ahead hoping she doesn’t see how you’re starting to fume.

Just keep looking ahead.

Just keep—

Suddenly your mind goes quiet as the Septa drops her hand on yours resting on your lap.

“Uh,” you part your lips and slowly churn your head to the side with a tight-lipped smile to address this bold Septa, but when you lay your eyes on her you immediately recognize your mother…

It must be some weird dream…

It’s not her!

You snap your eyes ahead and stare in disbelief for a second before you take a second look and see that it in fact is your mother, and the Septon is no Septon, it’s Ser Steffon Darklyn! You knew you recognized him!

But how?! Why?!

“Mother?” You gasp in disbelief whilst your face contorts with shock.

She puts her finger against her lips to shush you out of fear someone would hear you from the distant castle, or the knight behind you would say something.

“We…can trust Ser Jason, Daemon paid him to protect me,” you throw out to get that out of the way before you probe her. “What are you doing here? Why? You need to leave. Now!” You get up and take her hand to attempt and get her away, but as she stands up she yanks you back with her.

“Not without you,” she snaps. “I came this way for you. We are returning to Dragonstone.”

You shake your head and she pulls you with her, but you slip your hand away from her grasp and stand your ground, causing her to turn and face you with her eyebrows knitted in confusion.

“No, I am not returning home,” you proclaim firmly and raise your chin. “I can help you here. I am here to help you, it’s the only way I can help you.”

Your mother shakes her head and closes the distance to grab your arms and argue. “No, there are other ways, perhaps I have been protective, but I do it for your own good. You are young, inexperienced, and so is your dragon.”

You take in what she says but that still doesn’t win you over. “I understand—”

“There are other things you can help me with,” she cuts you off to try and persuade you. “This is not one of them. If they find out you are sending information they will kill you. We must return home at once, get Aerion, and sneak out.”

“No,” you exclaim and step back. “I am careful, and Aemond trusts me. I use the tunnels behind the walls to listen to council meetings, I will get my dragon out from the Dragonpit soon so she can fly over and send you the letters, you just have to trust me, Mother.”

Said woman goes quiet and her eyes droop with anguish so you approach her and grab her hands to assure her. “It is a risk, but it is one I am willing to take to get you on that throne.”

Her breath catches and she reaches over to cup your cheek and whisper. “And it will not be worth it if I lose you and your brothers. Please listen to me, my sweet. Come home.”

“You will not lose us,” you don’t give in. “You will have us. We will stand by your side when you become Queen. Just trust that I am doing the right thing. I ask you only this, trust me. Please.”

Your mother pulls her head back and stares at you hard for a long and tense moment before she drops her head and lets a tear fall to the ground. “Fine…I will trust you.”

You smile softly. “Thank you, mother.”

“But;” she sniffles and looks back at you. “At any sign of trouble, you come home.”

You don’t hesitate to assure her with a nod before you slip away from her to sit back down on the bench. When she sits next to you you tell her what you have heard, but haven’t been able to send. “Ser Criston, Ser Gwayne Hightower, and a few other knights have left to attack the houses in the Crownlands who support you. He will turn them against you to try and take Harrenhal.”

Your mother's eyes flutter as she looks to the horizon to get lost in thought.

“I heard reports of Ser Criston and other knights marching somewhere, but we had not figured out where,” she says to the crashing waves.

“That’s all the worthwhile things I have heard, but I will get more information soon.” You try to assure her, gaining her attention and a small smile.

“Thank you, just be careful when you try and listen, okay?”

You nod and let a silence befall you where you both feel the urgency to leave so she does not get caught, but in that silence, you also feel the need to speak of your troubles now that she’s here. You do not want to hold them anymore than you have to or you will combust. Besides, you are in desperate need of her counsel to know what to do.

“<Mother,>” you croak in High Valyrian and see her eyes catch the tears that quickly fill your eyes. “<I have to tell you something,” you pause and she immediately grows overly concerned. “I’m…I’m with child.>”

You have not had it confirmed yet, Helaena did tell you and you want to pass her off as a bit mad since there was no way she could know, but you know it in your gut that she is right. There’s also evidence that points to it that you have tried to ignore, but you cannot ignore the truth forever. No matter how much it scares you.

“<That's great…>” Your mother trails off as she doesn’t see your joy and instead sees anguish.

“<When I was a ward in Winterfell I was lonely…some people would not talk to me because I was me, but also because they were being mean, but…Lord Stark did, he became my friend,” you give her context. “He was my best friend and then,” you pause and hold in your sob. “We ventured into a more romantic relationship…but I stopped it when I came back. I was devoted to my husband, I love him, but when I went back and found out what he did to Lucerys…I was—>” You cut yourself off and drop your head on your hand. Your mother reaches for your hand but you pull away and finish.

“<I was hurt. I felt betrayed, and Cregan comforted me…one thing led to another, and…>” you don’t finish the rest but she knows what you mean and stays quiet and still now. You don’t want to know what she might be feeling so you keep your gaze averted.

“<But I also lay with Aemond before I left for Dragonstone and now I do not know who might be the father. I’m scared…I’m horrible.>” You cry and your mother can’t stand your cries so she finally takes your hands and nudges your hands towards her so you can look at her.

“<The father is Aemond,” she says seriously not because she knows, but because that’s what you need to believe, what you need to say if it’s not true. “Do you hear me? There might be a high chance it is. I am betting it is. It was just one night with Lord Stark. Do not worry I doubt anything took root, okay? When was the last time you bled?>”

You shrug. “<It's been complicated since Aerion, I do not bleed as heavily anymore, so I get confused, but I bled for two days and that ended the day after you returned to King’s Landing. But, I was feeling more tired than usual and just odd the entire week I was at Winterfell, just before Lord Stark.>”

“<See, it is Aemond’s. That’s proof,” she tries and convince you of the higher outcome. “Do not worry. It’s not good for you, and there is still a lot of time before that babe comes.>”

“<Twins,>” you share what Helaena told you, making your mother smile and cup your cheek to stroke it.

“<Twins,>” she muses. “<I'm happy.>”

You want to share her joy but you can’t look past your self-hatred. “<I'm still horrible. I shouldn’t have done it. But I did and I’m horrible for it. And I know what Aemond did, I know what he has done, but Mama, I still cannot bear it. I betrayed him. I-I—>” You break into a sob and she moves her head with yours as you drop it.

“<Look at me,>” she commands softly as she grabs your face and tilts your head up regardless. “<It is true you could have taken other pursuits, but it happened already. And it does not make you horrible.>”

You shake your head and mumble. “<You only say that because you’re my mother.>”

She scoffs softly and nods. “<Maybe, but it does not matter because I know you. You are not horrible, and doing that does not make you horrible, we are only human, my sweet. You were hurt, betrayed, and he was everything you needed. In a moment like that it’s easy to fall into the wrong thing to avoid being alone. You admit you did wrong, that’s all that matters.>”

Your ache eases off your heart and even though nothing can take away the sin, you still feel comforted by her sweet words. It’s just what you needed to stop letting that torment you as much as it has, she was what you needed; your mother's comfort.

“<Do not let it torment you anymore. It happened in the past, leave it there. Think about your safety, about your children’s safety, that’s paramount. Your other worries are for not because Aemond is the father. You’re just overthinking it because you’re scared.>”

You nod softly in comprehension and she wipes away your tears before she presses a kiss on your forehead.

“I must go now,” she brings this moment to its end in the common tongue. “So I must ask you again, will you come?” She asks, making you smile faintly before you reject her one last time.

“I will stay, but I will be careful I promise.”

She sighs deeply but doesn’t argue anymore. “Alright. I will be waiting for your letters, and any sign of trouble.”

“Okay. I love you, mother,” you tell her before you can’t.

She smiles at you and doesn’t hesitate to say it back. “I love you too, my sweet.”

She pulls her hands away and stands up, you stand up with her and linger in each other's presence for a bit longer before you watch her leave, and with her, taking a chance for you to return home to her, but leaving you with a more sane mind. The possibility of your sin coming to life is something that can happen, but you look at the more positive side now and tell yourself that Aemond will be there, and even if there’s some chance he isn't, they can still look like you, so there shouldn’t be fear.

Besides, if you think about it, really ponder about it, Aemond is the only face you see when you think about their father. Gut feeling or not, you see him, your husband, your other half, the love of your life that you can’t sacrifice, the light in your darkness.

How twisted is that?

——

*LATER*

You can’t help it, you can’t take it anymore.

“What are you doing?” You interrupt the silence and bring your book down to stare at Aemond, who stops fiddling with the gold coin and meets your annoyed gaze.

He’s going to ask what stole your attention from the book in your hands, but he sees you looking at the coin and shows it off before he passes it between his fingers one more time just to taunt you.

“Funny,” you deadpan, making him smile faintly before he throws the coin over at you so you can catch it, but it ends up on your lap.

“Are you trying to pay for my services or what? Because I will say, being a princess, my cost is high.” You taunt and he scoffs in amusement before he mutters back.

“It’s free for me actually.”

You laugh and he finally addresses the annoying coin he’s been carrying around since you got back home. “I found it on the ground after Daemon sent those intruders in to try and kill me.”

You pick up the coin and study it. “So what you carry it around as a reminder of…”

“That he wants to challenge me, but doesn’t come and face me,” Aemond fills your silence and you really want to laugh because that is really unlikely, Daemon has been busy doing other stuff, but Aemond doesn’t look like he’s jesting so you just hum and nod in comprehension.

“Where were you that night anyway?” You finally ask since Jaehaerys ended up being the victim of this tragic affair.

Albeit Aemond just glances over at you once before he picks up your legs from his lap to stand up without making you uncomfortable and without answering your question, which is actually all you need to know that he was at the brothel. It doesn't take a genius to know, he would have told you otherwise.

“Where were you?” He asks as he walks around the map on the small table.

“With my family,” you mutter in annoyance and put the coin down to return your attention to your book, letting him know exactly what you feel, so as to not let you simmer in your annoyance, he walks up behind you and pushes the book down before he gently wraps his fingers on your chin and tilts your head back so you can meet his gaze.

“Don't be mad,” you mock him. “Is that what you’re going to tell me? I’m not. I am…not.”

He hums before he brings his lips down and presses a kiss on your forehead before he brings his face down and leaves a kiss on the top of your nose, causing a wobbly smile to start breaking on your face with no attempt to hold back. He has your heart swooning, and when he kisses you slowly on your lips your heart explodes and you can’t help but grin completely enamored.

“What are you reading?” He asks as he pulls back and stays crouched behind you.

“Just some Valyrian stuff, nothing here compares to the stuff in Dragonstone, but it will suffice.”

Aemond hooks his finger around the cover and presses it to the side so he can see the title. “<Blood Magic or Chosen by Gods.>” He reads out loud in High Valyrian. “That’s an interesting read.”

You sigh and close the book to mindlessly watch the cover. “This man lived in Valyria before it was destroyed, half of the things are hard to read because the book is old, but what you can see is just theories with evidence I don’t need.”

Aemond hangs his hands over the armrest and leans his face forward, leaving his lips by your ear. “What is it you’re looking for exactly?” He queries.

You stay quiet for a moment as you ponder in your hesitance of whether telling someone of your…gift or not. But then again, without any concrete knowledge, you can’t really say a thing. Thus you just pass it off as an interest. “I just read that back then, in Valyria, there were people who…weren’t hurt by fire, but it’s all…” you trail off in frustration so he continues for you.

“Stories.”

You shrug. “Well they are now, but it just caught my attention, you know? I just want to know more.” You say and glance at him.

He glances at you and studies you for a moment before he glances at the book. “My father had books he kept in his chambers that contained important knowledge of Valyria, like magic and prophecies and stories. I’ll bring them to you, I can’t see Aegon having any use for them.”

You beam at him. “That would be great. Thank you.” You lean in and press a kiss on his cheek before you grab his chin and interrogate him. “Now how do you know about these books and did not tell me?”

“I found them after you left for the North, I never got to share them with you,” he says. “And now, I had forgotten until right now.”

You hum and let him go to lay back and stare at the high ceiling. “Do you still read that book about that one dragonrider? The one with the three-headed dragon?”

Aemond gets up and shakes his head, but you know otherwise, so you giggle and sit up to expose him.

“You do!”

The corner of Aemond’s lips tug up and you assure him. “That was always your favorite, I think you wore it out.”

“You dropped it in the pond if I remember correctly,” he remarks. “So it was you who wore it out.”

“Okay, but it was not my fault—”

“You were walking on the ledge of the pond and tripped with the book in hand,” he cuts you off, making you laugh.

“Yeah, I paid for that by smelling like pond water for days, the smell would not get off my hair, no matter how hard I scrubbed.” You complain with a pout, making him laugh softly.

“I ended up finding the book for you after though, I remember I stole it from Dragonstone once when I happened to…venture too far on dragonback.”

Aemond sneaks a glance at you and questions you as he stops at the other side of the small table. “What was your furthest?”

You snicker and loll your head to the side to tell him. “The wall. I would have ventured further, but Astraea did not want to fly past that wall…After this war is over I’ll fly to Dorne,” you share happily with a smile. “I have always wanted to go to a Dornish beach.”

He scoffs. “Perhaps we will finally take it after this war is over. Vhagar is bigger, and Astraea is fast.”

“Not with Aegon we won’t,” you complain without shame as you sit back and cross a leg over the other. “After this war is over, we’ll see this Red Keep filled with all kinds of different wines and women before we see him again.”

Aemond huffs and surprises you by adding a comment. “You know my brother, he’s always lacked…well…everything.”

You scoff in agreement and glance at the map before you roll your eyes up and take a leap. “The crown needs someone smart, someone that holds responsibility at great value, who knows our histories, and has an heir.”

Aemond slowly looks up with a cold expression that's hard to read at first, but as you stare into his eye his expression thaws and you know you’re not trudging in dangerous waters. You actually hit the mark and seem to read exactly what he has in mind, you can see that with the glint that goes over his eye.

Alas just as the corner of his thin lips begin to drag up to a smirk, the door opens, bringing your conversation to a sudden end with no chance to spark it back up to avoid getting in trouble.

“Princess, My Prince,” one of Aerion’s Wetnurses greets as she brings in a sleeping Aerion.

“Marie,” you greet and watch her as she walks to Aerion’s cradle. “Did he eat well?”

The Wetnurse nods and looks back at you. “Very well, it seems we will have to increase his intake. He’s grown quite an appetite.”

You smile softly in awe. “He will be five months soon, so that’s it. I’m sure.”

Marie puts Aerion down and tucks him in, while from the entrance of your chambers yours and Aerion’s sworn protector walks in.

“Princess,” he steals your attention with a warm smile, but also ends up grabbing Aemond’s attention from the map he was studying—“uh…My Prince,” Ser Jason trails off to a whisper and bows his head. “Uh,” He pauses as Aemond slowly stands to his feet with nothing to say, he just stands there menacingly as if trying to intimidate the knight with his tall stature. But then again how can he when his eye is wide as if he had seen a ghost.

“Ser Jason,” you whisper back with a teasing smile and put yourself in the middle of the tension Aemond alone creates. “It’s quite alright Aerion won’t wake anymore.”

The knight's eyes stay stuck on Aemond, and Aemond continues to stay quiet and…surprised? You can’t know, so you continue in a normal tone of voice. “If you’re asking to take your leave for the night, then it’s fine, Ser, have a good night. I’ll see you on the Morrow.”

Ser Jason’s eyes flicker back to you and he nods slowly as he swallows back nervously. “Thank you, Princess. Good night to you too. And to you My Prince.” He doesn’t forget to add before he steps back to let the Wetnurse walk out before he closes the door and cuts the tension off.

“I do not want you being friends with him,” Aemond suddenly breaks his odd silence as he sits back down. “He’s your sworn protector, not someone you can be friends with. If I see it I will assign the old man to protect you and Aerion.” He snaps his eye up and you challenge him with a pointed glare for a second before you look down with an upset frown brought by defeat since you know it’s not something he’s willing to debate.

Then again not like it will stop you from actually talking to the knight unless Aemond tends to be by your side at all hours of the day.

“Have you…told the council of what I told you about Daemon heading to Harrenhal?” You drag out to avoid sitting in silence and getting mad over something that won’t change. No matter how much you argue.

“No,” he admits and gets up to pace around the table again. “Not yet. I will let them figure it out when the news comes.”

You lean forward to study the map and the markers scattered about the paper. “It may be a while,” you mention. “Daemon left suddenly that day, so who knows if he actually went to Harrenhal.”

Aemond hums and gently shakes his head. “I’m sure he did. Where else would he go?”

“You have a point. Now,” you smack your teeth and point to the Hightower marker on the map. “Is that Ser Criston.”

Aemond walks to your side and crouches to lay his hand over yours and press your fingers on the marker to push the marker forward.

“He will be moving all along the Crownlands to take the armies sworn to Rhaenyra,” he surprisingly shares with you, but half of your mind is on the feeling of his warm hand cupping yours and his lips purposely brushing against your ear.

“Once he has garnered enough men he will go and face the Rivermen to take Harrenhal,” he adds.

“With Daemon leaving with just his dragon,” you input your thoughts as you turn to look at him. “It will take him longer to gain any support. He may not even have men to challenge Ser Criston since he also did not have men follow after him.”

Aemond faces you with a smirk and steals a glance at your lips before he nods. “Exactly,” he praises you and strokes your chin, making you grow giddy and smile like a love-struck fool.

“I would also wager you could face Daemon now. He left in quite a mood. You would be doing me a favor,” you grumble and sigh as Aemond pulls away to walk around you with his eyes on the map.

“It would catch him by surprise,” Aemond murmurs, “but alas, too rash now. Those armies are our priority.”

You groan and he snickers.

“Will you join Ser Criston in Harrenhal?” You ask with your heart starting to pick up out of nervousness.

“Hm, in time, we will join him, yes.”

Your heart jumps a beat and you question what just came out of his lips. “We?”

Aemond’s gaze flickers up and he nods. “Vhagar and I could go alone, but I will face Daemon and his dragon, while you help Ser Criston and our armies.”

You keep your secret alliance in mind, but you can’t help it, you ooze with excitement at the thought of being part of something more grand than just sitting here by the fire or listening through walls. You did not think he would consider bringing you with him to fight.

Should you even consider it? Your mother would never allow you to take part in something so dangerous, but he is, he’s letting you do something great and you want to be a part of it. How can you throw away that opportunity?

“But not before we cut off Rhaenyra by land by taking Rooks Rest, after Ser Criston takes the Darklyn army,” Aemond adds, piquing your interest and panic.

“But isn’t facing Daemon more important when you have the numbers?” You ask as some discreet attempt to try and sway his mind.

“It would, but when they hear we are trying to take Rooks Rest, they will send a dragon, and I will be there with Vhagar to take them down.”

There’s no use of we now. He has no intention of bringing you to this part of his plan. Which is good in retrospect, you would give away your true loyalties to try and save whoever they will send. Yet a worry that you can’t let go of is you don’t want Aemond to die either.

You will send a warning to your mother about this plan when you can, but something that is clear is that you don’t want either challenger to get hurt. You are loyal to your mother, to her cause, but your heart is also loyal to your husband, it aches at the thought of Aemond getting hurt or even…meeting death.

How foolish is that?

And what good is begging him to stay when you see how eager he is to already play this plan out?

All you can do is take note of his plan and secretly worry. That’s why you just take in what he says with a strained praising smile before you share a short comment. “They won’t see it coming, not with Daemon gone.”

Aemond hums in agreement before he walks over to stroke your chin again to praise your thinking. “Exactly, my love.”

You smile at him before you lay back down and stare at the ceiling with worry that only strains your heart as you're torn between the two. While on your face, well, you make sure to stay nonchalant and hide anything he might pick up on by filling the silence with a haunting song.

.

.

.

.

A/N- Alexa play “The Hanging Tree” by Rachel Zegler

Tagged- @namelesslosers @stargaryenx @chainsawsangel @lauftivy @winxschester @cloudroomblog @llarue @padsdarlg @sofietargaryen @gracielikegrapes @dreaming-of-the-reality @itzelpeyton @patdsinner33 @mrsdominickstark @elaena-aerrin @todoroki-slut @snh96 @urmomsgirlfriend1 @nifujiswhore @sweethoneyblossom1 @kaetastic @lightdragonrayne @squidscottjeans @oh-you-mean-me @wallacewillow0773638 @icefrye19 @callsignwidow @thescottpack @fiction-fanfic-reader @crazymusicgirl104

[justkending]

Mr. & Mrs. Hunt (Chapter 5/7)

Mini-Series Summary: Two of the most stubborn people in the group partnered together for an undercover mission are also the two people with the most hatred for each other, so what could go wrong? Or is it, what COULDN’T go wrong?…

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger Reader (Enemies to Lovers) (Fake Marriage Trope)

A/N: I think we are staying on track for this to wrap up within two more chapters, but again, we are both in the dark if that's the case😂 Thank you guys for the love! If you are wanting to be tagged, please send me an ask. It's a lot easier for me to keep track of who's been added and who hasn't :)

_________

Y/N’s POV:

Okay, so maybe I blew up a little more than necessary, but I tried to chill out before he started chasing me, ordering that I didn’t walk away and talk to him. Let a girl try to get a hold of her emotions for a second big guy.

I’ve been anxious all day, waiting to talk to him about some deep seeded trauma, and then he comes and screws up all of it with a simple exception to an invitation. I know he didn’t mean harm by it, but he’s a trained professional. That was not a trained professional response. Plus, stepping out of my normal routine of being a bitch to him to keep him at a distance wasn’t just a switch I could flip.

Again, I could have handled that better, but now my brain is in mission mode, trying to reprogram what this night has set up for us. Considering the invitation was for tonight, it gave me little to no time to prepare.

“What time did she say dinner was?” I shouted from my bedroom, where I was going through our small, hidden arsenal of gadgets Tony had made for us.

“Six,” Bucky replied from his room down the hall.

Great, that was forty-five minutes from now… “Ok, I can do this.” Deciding it was best to keep some bugs on hand in case we could plant them in the house, and we would be planting them, I needed to consider sizes and placements.

“Should we bring over some wine or something?” Bucky’s voice was now in the doorway to my room, but I kept my back to him as I sifted through our tools.

“I made a pie earlier today. We can take that,” I answered absentmindedly.

“Why’d you make a pie?”

“Felt like it,” I shrugged and walked out of the closet with three small wires/ bugs in hand. When I looked up, I saw he had changed into a nicer button-up and was tightening a tie around his collar he hadn't been wearing earlier. “Why are you wearing a tie?” I examined him.

“Same reason you’re wearing a nicer dress. I want to make a good impression,” he shrugged, straightening pieces of his outfit.

“I’m wearing this because we were going to our ‘anniversary dinner,’” I made sure to put the lie in hand quotes. “I had a story that went with it, but this can pass as casual, too,” I motioned to my dress and moved toward him, placing the wires on the bed. “This looks like you’re about to give a sales pitch.”

Without thinking, I pop his collar up and loosen the tie to get rid of it. The whole time I’m focusing on untying it, I ramble about what the plan is for the night.

“I’m going to give you a wire to put wherever you see fit, and I’ll do the other two. I’ll excuse myself to use the bathroom and sneak it where it’s needed. I feel it’s important we look for cameras already in the house in case it’s a setup. We don’t need them having hard proof that we bugged their place. We want to come off as simple yet good assets if we want them to bring us on board for their work,” I struggle with a certain spot on the tie he somehow fixed in an efficient way I’d never seen. “Jesus, were you a sailor in another life? Might as well have knotted it.”

He doesn’t respond, but I get it off in the next two seconds and look at him to see he had been studying me intently as I invaded his space. I see my slip-up, push the tie into his chest, and take a step back.

“Sorry.”

“No problem,” he answers rather calmly, and I look at his eyes, seeing patience there. Always that damn patience. How did he still have it with me even with how I’ve treated him? “Listen-”

“About last night,” I say at the same time, and he seems shocked but gives a single nod to tell me to continue. “I want to say I’m sorry for being all over the place recently. From last night to thirty minutes ago.”

He seems frozen by my apology, and I became anxious enough that I start to word vomit.

“I took some time to think after last night and spent the day stressing, thinking how I was going to talk to you about it because I do want to. I want to get what I can out on the table if you’d be ok with that,” I look up through my lashes, and I see the most subtle turn of his lip as he watches me attentively.

“Are you hinting that there’s a chance I’ll get to see the side of you others are lucky enough to see?” he retorts, grin growing and taking a step closer to me.

His use of the word ‘lucky’ shortcircuits my brain, and all I can do is nod once, slowly, as my answer. He takes another step, and I match it with one back. I feel more vulnrable than I was expecting to.

“You can understand now why having our plans for the night changed made me slightly temperamental.”

“I think slightly may be an understatement.”

“I think you still should choose your words carefully,” I say, tightening my smile. However, it doesn’t shut him down like normal. Instead, he laughs under his breath, and the doorbell rings.

Both of our heads shoot toward the noise, and solemnity takes over the room.

“You don’t think that’s,” Bucky pauses as he turns back to me.

“How often am I wrong?” I take a deep breath in and smooth my dress out as I walk over, pausing beside him. “Hide the wires. I already did a sweep of the house while you were getting ready to make sure we didn’t have anything out of place. I’ll tell them you’re getting ready.”

I don’t need to open the door to know who it is, but when I do, the urge to yell, “I told you so!” in Bucky’s face is strong.

“Bethanne!” I smile kindly and immediately notice the dish in her hand. Reggie is behind her, holding two others, looking like he just got off work and had been dragged over here. “Did Beau tell me wrong? Are we not eating at y’all’s house tonight?”

She scrunches her face in a practiced motion and lifts the ceramic bowl up as she explains.

“I hate to ask this of you, but our oven is still the old rickety one. The new one had some faulty design, and we had to ship it back. Needless to say, it decided to give out on us today of all days,” she raised her shoulders. “I know we sprung the dinner on you suddenly, but would you two be willing to host if we provide the food?”

Not on the money of what I guessed, but pretty fucking close to the money if you ask me.

“Who is it, Doll?” Bucky’s voice carries from the hallway he’s now emerging from. The first three buttons on his dress shirt are undone, and he’s messing with the cuffs on the sleeves. “Hey, Bauers,” he smiles yet still holds shock in his features by the neighbor's appearance. “Did we get the time wrong?” he asks, looking at his watch before coming to my side, where I've now moved and am letting themselves in.

“No, no, no,” Bethanne shakes her head and hands off one of the pots to me as she takes one from Reggie, who looks more bothered to be here than happy. Long day human trafficking, asshole? “We had some appliance issues thanks to some of the renovations we were doing. I was just asking your wife if we can use your house as tonight's setting and possibly use your oven while here.”

Without hesitance, Bucky takes the dish from my hands and the dish Bethanne had swapped for and nods for Reggie to follow him.

“No problem at all. Let me help you ladies with that. Char," A nickname he had never used for my character before, but it seemed to work fluently. "Would you like to get some wine for the two of you while I get this organized in the kitchen?” he asks me, placing a kiss on the side of my head while his hands are full as he walks towards the other room.

I don’t know how he’s learned to play his role so well, but it’s convincing, even to me.

“Uh, yeah,” I almost stutter in my response as I motion for Bethanne to follow me to the wine cooler out in the garage. “Red or white with tonight's dish?”

"Do you have any more husbands like that in the back I can steal? What a gentleman," she coos, shoulder-bumping me.

___________

Half an hour of baking the food and getting it plated, and our conversation continued with questions mostly strictly about us, which would have been fine if not for the reason behind such invasive intentions.

They started off simple. How’d you guys meet? Who made the first move? What did we love about the town so far? What kind of hobbies and adventures did we take on before moving here? All questions we had prepared for, and if not, could easily improvise.

So far. No slip-ups. If anything, we sold the scheme far better than I’d imagined we would even when they became more personal. And our discussion on being the ‘prude couple’ last night seemed to affect Bucky’s actions a lot more than I was expecting.

An obvious hand on my thigh under the table and an arm thrown over my seat in a slightly possessive manner seemed to catch the eye of Reggie, who mimicked some of the moves as if it were a competition.

In addition, Bucky kept making small compliments about how I looked and how smart I was when they asked about my job. Dropping little comments about things I did (not my character) that he loved and appreciated.

“She’s always doing things like that. I almost never have to worry about making coffee in the morning because she has it all set up just to hit a button and go.”

“You should ask Charlotte about that! She’s the reason our house looks like a home. I’m sure she could give some advice on the kitchen backsplash.”

“She may not know how to boil an egg correctly, but her baking skills are unmatched. I've put on a few pounds now that we have a nice kitchen to spend time in."

I did my best not to act shocked every time he dropped a compliment, but the fact he could have made shit up for my character and used those details as conversation pieces, yet he went the honest way (although more convincing, of course), shocked me.

“Speaking of baking skills,” Reggie nodded his head back to the kitchen counter behind us and smiled at me. “I spied a pie on the counter. Any chance we can have that to finish off this dinner?”

I was still staring at Bucky from his last form of appreciation when I blinked out of my distraction and returned to our neighbor.

“Oh, of course! I was just about to offer,” I smiled, standing up, and Bucky quickly stood next to me, pulling my chair out. “Thank you.” I smiled at him and placed a hand on his arm as I moved around to the counter.

“How sweet. Oh, Charlotte, would you mind telling me where the bathroom is?” Bethanne asked, standing and giving her husband a look for not showing the same chivalry as Bucky.

I watched her, knowing that I would have used the same excuse to do what we planned to at their house. But I was two steps ahead of her.

“Of course! Beau, do me a favor and get some plates out for dessert. I’m going to show Beth-”

“Oh, I’m sure I can find it,” she waved off, coming around the table and moving to the hall promptly.

Yeah… Not without a chauffeur, honey.

“No problem,” I waved off, moving with her casually. “I need to grab some floss from my bathroom before dessert. I’ll show you to it.”

I can see the most subtle glaze of annoyance at my insistence, but she smiles and walks a step ahead of me.

I show her to the bathroom and make it seem I’m going into the master down the hall while she’s in there. And I do, but I keep an eye to make sure she isn’t snooping in any other room besides the one. We’ll have to survey it after they leave, but better that and the dining room than the whole house.

Once we’re back with the boys, no wandering to be done, Bucky helps me plate a slice of chocolate pie for each of us, and I offer to move the conversation to the porch. Any kind of redirection from the comfort of the inside of our home is welcome.

“I love how you’ve decorated your porch. It’s so cozy,” Bethanne notices, pointing out the colorful decorative pillows, hanging swing the size of a daybed, and loads of plants and decor that make the space more intimate. She and Reggie are sat on the two rocking chairs facing the front yard, and Bucky and I are sat close together on the swing, where he’s controlling the tempo we sway in.

“I always wanted a spot outside to escape. We didn’t really have that at our last home, and it was important for me to have this time around,” I replied.

My answer is actually very true. I loved being outside, especially when it was something as simple as sitting in the backyard or swinging on a porch. I had one requirement about this mission, one I’m not even sure Bucky knew about. But I asked Tony to supply a nice budget for the porch.

Call it cheesy, but growing up in such an unnatural and dehumanizing way, you crave a small part of that normalcy you see on the movie screens. For some reason, a porch I could escape on but still be within the comfort of my own home was a dream. And because it was, I thought I’d make this situation a little more bearable by granting that small wish I always had.

“Well, I may have to start budgeting for a new kind of renovation,” she patted Reggie’s back, and he gave her a tight-lip smile. "What do you say, Reg? Do you think we can get a swing like that one?” She smiled over at us just as Bucky pulled me into his side, his arm going around my waist and his hand resting on my hip bone.

“I have a feeling we might as well have built a home from scratch by the time you’re happy with the renovations we’ve taken on,” Reggie answered with a nod before taking a swig from his beer. “Get that recipe for the pie from Charlotte, and I’ll consider buying you a new porch,” he winked my way and turned back to the front of our lawn.

I instantly found Bucky’s hand tightening, and his thumb started rubbing in an up-and-down pattern along my hip. When I turned to him slightly, his gaze stayed on Reggie.

Before finishing cleaning up for the night, we said goodbye to our guests, and just when we thought we hadn’t made any headway in our conversation about work (mind you, we had dropped hints and notices about it all night, but neither of the two seemed to take the bait), Reggie stopped on the last step to our porch and turned to Bucky.

“You mentioned working in transportation, and by the sounds of your new job up here, if you’re interested in a more innovative place, I may have some ins for you,” he shook Bucky’s hand. “I have some coworkers around the states that could use some employees like you on their route.”

“I may take you up on that offer. It all depends on how this week rolls out,” Bucky answered perfectly. The Bauers said their goodbyes, and we watched them walk home before turning to each other.

In a silent celebration, we grinned at the invitation and then sent wordless glances to tread carefully when we got in before scoping the place for bugs…

_______________

Bucky’s POV:

I’m not surprised that the blonde sole cycle instructor of a neighbor was able to get a wire in our bathroom, but neither Y/N nor I were in the mood to remove it right away and give away our knowledge of it, so we each grabbed another drink for the night and debriefed subtly on the porch where the only bugs we had to mind were the crickets chirping their music for the night.

Bethanne was right. Our porch was nicely done, and I hadn’t even noticed Y/N had hung lights out here until she plugged them in.

“I feel like this spot is more put together than the rest of the house.” I noticed the details when we were out here earlier. Now, we both have taken up spots in the rocking chairs our neighbors had vacated.

“I may have focused more of my attention on this spot than the others,” she smiled as she brought a tumbler glass up to her lips. She had drank wine while Bethanne was here, but as soon as they were gone, the whiskey I had made a glass for myself was stolen out of my hand before I could take a sip. Now, we had each of our own.

“Was what you said about the porch a real thing? I mean, we have balconies at the compound,” I looked at her as I sat my drink on the small table between us.

“Balconies and porches aren’t the same. At least in my head, they aren’t,” she nodded, taking a deep sigh and resting her glass in her lap. “Did you mean what you said when you were complimenting me all night?” She lulled her head to the side to look at me.

I had been making compliments. It felt easier to use the ones I had picked up on than the ones I made up. Yet again, I think anyone should get the recognition they deserve when they excel in something. Y/N just tended to excel in more than I think she was aware of. And I was learning she didn’t seem to be used to people taking note of those things.

“Why lie?” I shrugged, starting to rock in a steady pattern.

“Because that’s this whole gig. A lie,” she answered, taking another pull of the hard liquor.

I considered her perspective and shook my head, looking out to the lights on the other side of the street. “I guess it gets tiring at points. Don’t really feel like doing it if the truth can be just as usable.”

She didn’t answer for quite a few seconds, and when I turned back to her, she was staring at me like she was waiting for another shoe to drop.

“How are you so patient? Seriously, is it a drug Tony made you before you had to deal with me on this mission? I don’t get it,” she laughs, but I can hear the genuine confusion in it as she sits forward and turns her body to me.

Honesty. I’m in a mood to be 100% honest.

“Want me to be real with you?” I asked, turning my own body.

“It’d be preferred,” she nods and rests both her arms on the armrest.

“I don’t know anything about your past, but I know most people have a reason for acting the way they do. It took years and a ton of patience before I felt like I was even close to who I used to be. I still struggle to come to terms with the fact I’ll never be who I was before the train incident,” I sigh and rest my head back against the chair as I look at her. “I guess I have understanding more than patience. I understand that you have a history of your own that I don’t know, and I can’t blame you for a lot of the things you do.”

“But you should. I’m an asshole to you,” she says, and the admission is kinda nice to hear, even if it is sad.

“Yeah, and I was hoping you’d be willing to share why that is,” I reply calmly.

She tenses some and sits back in her chair, pulling her legs under her to sit crisscrossed, the chair rocking with her movement and her dress overflowing past her knees.

“I guess now is as good a time as ever…” She looked at me sidelong before finding comfort in the view in front of her instead. “I didn’t really have a chance to develop a personality of my own because of my time in this lifestyle,” she motions around her, “started as soon as I could walk. So I had no identity to fall back on since I had to find it after I escaped.”

I had questions, but I found it best just to listen. Clearly, what she was talking about wasn’t something she brought up lightly, and being an ear to listen was what she needed right now.

“I was left behind by whichever no-good parent gave me up, and Adonis Hummel took me as his own and decided he’d try to recreate the famous assassin, The Winter Solider, from birth practically.”

The name drop came quickly and struck home. I didn’t know her whole story, but I had enough imagination and experience to believe where she was going.

“Wait, Hummel?” I started because the name sounded familiar, but…

“He was a low-level scientist who worked for Hydra when they were still using you under Pierce. He thought he had the brains and resources to create his own version of you. A version that would be more undetectable as a woman and a version he could tweak however he wanted,” she rolled her shoulders. “Lucky for him, I didn’t have to be brainwashed since I knew nothing besides the life of abuse, experimentation, and a shit ton of conditioning... " 

"To clarify, I say that for context, not sympathy,” she straightened, and I could see her shifting back to her unbothered disposition, but the truth was shining through the cracks. She may not have wanted sympathy, but something about the vulnerability seemed to lighten the load on her shoulders.

“As for why I may have built a wall around you, an unhealthy and senile wall, I felt as though…” She gulped as if the next part was harder for her to say than the abuse of her past. “I felt as though you had been my competition my whole life, and a part of me, a young and in-need-of-therapy part of me, thought it was best to keep you as far away as possible and hold onto that anger instead of work through it. It felt easier than facing the fear that I didn’t actually equate to you in any way. So that’s another reason why I felt everything with you was to prove a point.” She lets out a short breath after using all the air in her lungs in one swift swoop.

I-

It’s a lot to take in…

She doesn’t move her head back towards me after her confession, and I can’t seem to break my stare from her.

“This is where you say something like, ‘Well, it’s your lucky day. I’m actually an asshole either way, so we can go on hating each other for completely understandable reasons!’ or I don’t know? Anything but silence would be preferred, though…”

Her hand is gripping the arm rest unconsciously like an anchor keeping her on earth.

On instinct, I reach across and pull her hand into mine, keeping my stare heavy, enticing her to look at me.

She closes her eyes at first and takes another short breath before turning.

“I’m sorry if I ever made you feel unworthy of being on the team.” I feel like I personally am the reason for her suffering, even if I had no correlation with her before I joined the team. "You are more than an asset to the team and are your own kind of weapon. It's incomparable."

“Ugh,” she sniffles and rubs an eye with the heel of her free hand as if to disguise a possible tear as allergies. “This would be so much easier if you were a piece of shit misogynistic asshole, but you're part of the few good ones out there. Steve, Sam, and Clint included, not Tony,” she noted.

I smiled, thinking about how I’d make a team like that even if she had me believe otherwise for so long.

“What I’m trying to get at, B, is you’re not the one I should be blaming for my past. You’re just as much a victim as I am, but I took the easy way out of making it more manageable for me, and I only made it harder for us both in the end. And for that,” she turned and stared into my eyes fully, the hand she held squeezing my own. “I’m sorry. You don’t deserve an ounce of the kind of cruelness I tried to bury you in. You are the opposite of what they tried to make you, and you’re genuine in proving that to anyone who meets you. I've been envious of the strength you have, and I can say confidently that I deeply regret ever blaming you for that.”

I once again have to process yet another collection of words I’d never thought I hear. From her. Ever. A part of me believed this was a dream, but the part that Y/N had a grip on was practically pinching me into reality.

Without hesitating, I stood up, pulled her arm up with me, and yanked her into my body in a crushing hug.

She froze at first… The motion was quick and surprising, but slowly, she unhooked our hands, brought both of hers tightly around my waist, and laid into me. I rested my head on top of hers and pulled her shoulders in with my arms, wrapping both of my own tightly around her.

I wasn’t going to let go until she did, and by the looks of it… She wasn’t letting go anytime soon.

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[eeunoia]

ENHYPEN Imagines

insolitus | yjw.

part three

pairings: yang jungwon x reader

synopsis: you’ve always thought jungwon is out of this world, out of ordinary. he’s someone who seems familiar but at the same time mysterious for almost everybody. you didn’t expect that he himself will unfold more of him with you and it was an insolitus experience.

word count: 4k

warnings: yandere themes, mention of murder, violence, obsessive love, grammatical errors, kissing. (let me know if i missed some)

note: i really wait until heeseung’s limerence were posted since this will spoil it if I released this first. anyway, sorry if i kept you waiting. replies and reblogs are highly encouraged. if you want more, giving feedbacks are the only thing i asked from you guys. i really loved reading them and boost me more to write faster. it really means a lot. ily and stay safe! send me asks too.

( part one ; part two )

fic moodboard › here

eeunoia 2024 © all rights reserved.

“You need to feed her more, Mr. Yang.” the doctor sighs then glances at your unconscious body laying on the middle of the queen size bed.

Some of the house helpers gathers around to make sure you’re feeling warm enough, tucked on the bed perfectly.

“Her body needs its nutrients or else her body will get weak.” he added then whips his head to look at Jungwon.

He looked serious while standing beside your bed, watching you cautiously. The doctor couldn’t tell what’s exactly inside his mind. If he’s feeling regret or what.

“If that’s all, I would take my leave Mr. Yang. Call me if you need something else or if ever something happened.” Jungwon nods his head without sparing their family doctor a glance.

One of the helpers guides the doctor outside the room and slowly one by one, they left the room. Jungwon was left with you. The sound of aircondition can be heard, preventing the deafening silence to overcome Jungwon.

He won’t try to cover it up. He does feel a slight guilt for what happened. You just collapsed after being deprived of food for several days. He does offer water to keep you hydrated, but he limits your intake of food to punish you. It was his only way to punish you since he refused to hit you physically.

He’s not very amused of your behavior lately. Trying so hard to escape after succeeding the first time that night. You just don’t learn and seems like not afraid enough. After knowing well how you affect him, you kept trying since then. He was playing along at first, but after you managed to run out from the mansion and up to their gate last week, he knew he needed to set boundaries towards you.

He slowly walked closer towards the side of the bed then sat down. Your face looked peaceful while sleeping. Despite the tears from the corner of your eyes, you looked beautiful for Jungwon. You look fragile. Like a bunny being hunted by a wolf.

He stretches his hand and caress your face using the back of it. Being a light sleeper, you stir from your sleep and gently flutter your eyes open. It was blurry at first, making it hard for you to register where you are or what happened prior to this.

You looked over Jungwon and opens your mouth, feeling your throat too dry. “W-What happened?”

He smiled a little then brushes away some of your hair, “You passed out, baby.”

Your lips pursed and tries harder to remember what happened to you. After finally realizing that it was due to exhaustion and being food deprived your eyes darted at his direction. Slight hatred flashes through your eyes. His remains soft, unlike whenever you try to run away.

That’s one of the things you noticed. Jungwon looked so soft whenever you look fragile. But he’s the complete opposite whenever you disobey him. He’s scary.

You gulped, “You did this to me.” you mumbled, eyes brimming with tears.

He didn’t say anything and just kept his stares at you. His hands rests over your arm then caress it softly while he listens to what you’re trying to say.

“You w-want to kill me.”

He sighs and licked his lower lip. “That’s not what I’m trying to do, baby. I just want to discipline you.”

A tear escapes from your eye, “Discipline? I’m not the one who needs disciplining, Jungwon! It's you! What you’re doing is wrong!”

He rolled his eyes and lifts his hand off from your skin. A part of your heart fell from the sudden lost of contact and it was odd. Why would you feel that way? He is your captor! The last thing you should feel is attraction and want of his affection.

“You can’t get away from this..” you stare straight to his eyes.

Jungwon cranes his neck to look over you. His eyes roams around your face before it trailed down your lips. He lets out a strained sigh. He can’t believe you are going through this once again.

“But I already did, y/n.” he stood up and stared down at you, piercing his cold dark eyes. It sent instant shivers to your spine.

You continued being stubborn towards him. Refusing any chances of getting close with Jungwon. He’s slowly losing his patience with you and honestly, he hates to go to his last resort but he knew have no other choice.

“PLEASE! STOP!”

Jungwon clenches his jaw while his feet taps continuously on the cold marble tiles. He’s trying so hard not to burst inside that room and save you from this misery. Jake notices his friend’s anxious behavior so he sighs and walks closer, clapping his hand over his shoulder.

One day, your loud and terrifying screams echoes over the silent hallway of the isolated mansion where Jungwon’s been keeping you.

“Relax, dude.” he smiles, trying to make him feel better.

“Are you sure its going to be fine?” Jungwon asks, brows hardly furrowed and head turning at the direction of the room you’re currently locked in.

“It’s fine, Jungwon. We’ve done that procedure a lot of times. I’m sure it will work. Don’t worry, okay?” Jake tries to assure his friend. He could tell how disturbed he is by the situation and he can’t even blame him.

Even before Jungwon can respond to what his hyung said, another petrifying screams ringed so loudly. Their heads whipped towards the direction of the room in unison and stayed silent for a while.

“Of course it can be painful, but I will guarantee you that it will be all worth it.” then Jake claps his hand over his shoulder.

Jungwon’s eyes didn’t left the room as he gulped with nothing in mind, but you. He delayed this for a while, insisting to his hyung that he can manage to get inside your mind without actually breaking you completely. Apparently, you are stronger than he thought you are resulting for his hyung to step in and take matters into his own hands.

They have plans and in order for these plans to go well coordinately, they have to follow certain rules and schedules. And due to your stubborness, they are falling behind schedule.

Jake knew he had to step in and force Jungwon to let you undergo this. Its really cruel and the jail time that they can receive if somebody knew about this can be very serious. They’re trying to mess with your brain to make you forget some memories if they trigger it by believing that its something traumatic.

When our brain senses something that can traumatize the host, it usually come up with solutions. One of them is forcefully deleting these memories and replacing it with hallucinations that can be planted by whoever gaslighter that will talk them through it.

“ENOUGH! PLEASE!” you cried out when you felt another electrifying pain occurying your whole body. Tears stream down your face nonstop and it felt so bad that you’re starting to wish for your life to end.

“P-Please,” you mumbled losing all your energy and body giving up from too much exhaustion.

The last thing you can remember is the blinding light from the ceiling and then slowly you lost consciousness.

Jungwon and Jake stood up at the same time the doctor went out from the room.

“How was it, doctor?” Jake asks hopeful.

“Is she okay?” Jungwon asked eagerly.

“She’s fine. Just really exhausted. We will leave her to take a rest for as much as her body wants. Once she wakes up, she might not remember the past events from a while. I have no idea what she will remember, but we’ll know once she does.”

Jungwon nods his head and eyes darted at the room. “I can go visit her, right?”

The doctor nods his head, “Of course. Its better to talk to her even if she’s still unconscious. Just make sure not to say anything you don’t want her to remember. She may be unconsious, but her brain is still currently active and it may caught on it later on.” he carefully reminded him.

Jungwon thanked the doctor and Jake told his friend that he will walk him out to talk some things with him as well. He gave his hyung a short nod before walking towards the room.

She saw one nurse trying to clean some of the materials and another one checking your vitals. As usual, your beautiful face looked peaceful as you sleep.

“Hi, baby. I’m here now.” he whispers after you two are left alone.

He kept his loving stares right at you. Silently admiring how beautiful you are. Letting him be fully drawn onto you. Not everyone will understand him if ever they knew what he’s doing. They may call him crazy and an awful person, but he doesn’t care.

None of them can beat his desires of wanting you for himself. Just by thinking of not having you with him is already painful. He suffered enough being away from you and now that he experienced having you near him, he have no plan of letting you go.

He will do everything to keep you. Even if it means manipulating and gaslighting his way into your life.

He caress your face gently, “I’m here now, baby. Nobody can take you away now. You are safe.” he mumbles carefully before leaning down carefully and pressing a soft kiss at your forehead.

“I’m here now, baby. Nobody can take you away now. You are safe.” that was the only thing you can remember the moment you crack your eyes open.

The first thing that greets you was the clean white ceiling and a nurse stood beside you, checking something. When her eyes drifted at you and she saw you finally awake, she gasped lightly and smiled.

“You’re finally awake!” she sounded so happy and even start checking you. Asking things like if you feel any pain somewhere or if you can see her perfectly.

Despite being totally confused, you followed as she told you. Eventually, someone who seemed like a doctor came in. She flashes you the brightest smile that slightly melts down your guard.

She asked the nurse to raise your bed so you can be in a more comfortable position while she ask you a few question.

“Do you remember anything, y/n?” she asks and starts examining you. Looking through your eyes and all.

You stayed silent, trying to remember the last thing you can before waking up in this hospital bed. Yes, you’ve been informed that you are currently at the town’s hospital.

“Do you remember that your name is y/n?” she asks and pulls away slightly to look at your eyes.

You nod your head right away and she smiles in relief. She continued asking you, but also reminding you not to push yourself to remember and just take your time. No rush.

As you try to remember something, the familiar voice that has been echoing inside your mind repeats once again.

“I r-remember somebody talking...” you started that nods her head with anticipation in her eyes.

“He said that he’s there now and that I am safe. Nobody will take me.” you tried to repeat the exact words the voice said.

She broke into a very warm smile.

“That must’ve be Mr. Yang Jungwon.” she said that made you crease your forehead.

“J-Jungwon?” you asked confused.

Her smile fell for a bit while, but she pulls it once again. “Yes. You know him, right?”

You pursed your lips and tries to recall the most memorable interaction you have with Yang Jungwon, the president of the your school’s student council. The reliable, handsome, youngest son of the governor. He’s very famous in your batch. Not just because of his undeniable charms, but also due to his credibility. He’s indeed an amazing guy.

“H-He’s my schoolmate.”

She smiles even wider, “Right. He’s the one who found you unconscious by the far part of the forest.” she explained.

Your heart thumped faster by what you heard. The information suddenly clouding your mind and slowly making your head ache.

“F-Forest?” your head tilt and face showed displeasure.

“Hmm.” she hums and even caress your arm. “He was hunting with some of his friends when he found you and he took you here.”

You stayed silent and just accept what she’s telling you since you cannot remember anything other than walking home alone and then (ex boyfriend) appeared— Right. He went after you and you two argued. It was so intense that he starts yanking your arms hardly.

“(ex boyfriend).” you mumble lowly and she stopped talking.

“What’s that, y/n?” she tries asking since she couldn’t quite hear it.

Your teary eyes slowly trailed towards the doctor’s face to look at her now worried eyes.

“I remember having an argument with (ex boyfriend).” you told her and her lips pursed tightly together.

You teared your gaze away and tries to remember more when your head starts to ache so badly. You lift your hand and hold onto it tightly, eyes shut.

“Acck!” you groaned as she stood up to assist you and ask you to please calm down. She called another nurse to help her look after you.

They both panic as you starts to whimper in pain. The pain was not tolerable at the moment. You feel like someone’s drilling into your skull.

“M-Make it stop please!” you begged as blur memories of someone holding you captive and punishing you flashes through your mind.

They aren’t clear enough to see whose behind all of that. All you know is that even if you can’t remember it compelely, the feeling and emotions you’ve felt those moment are still carved in you. You felt scared and anxious that whoever did that to you probably will come after you anytime.

Even before you can open your eyes, you felt a sting by one of your arm. One of the nurses injects something to help you calm down and prevent you from harming yourself furthermore.

“Anything else, y/n?” your eyes drifts over the officer sat beside your bed.

He looked kind and reliable. The type of officer you will really trust, yet you can’t help but to feel anxious. Your hospital room are filled with some police officer that came to interview you and by the corner, you can see your parents watching you with worried eyes.

They are more than delighted after hearing the news of someone finally finding you. They didn’t waste any time and rushed over the hospital. It was hurtful for them seeing you laying on the bed with some bruises over your body, clearly lost weight and traumatized. They finally found you, but it feels like something in you changed ever since.

“I t-told you it was (ex boyfriend). He was the last one with me!” you’re starting to feel frustrated with all of these interviews. It’s so hard for you.

You understand that they’re just trying to do their job and to finally solve your case, but its just exhausting. Its like living your trauma over and over again. It feels like torture.

“But sweetheart, he’s already gone.” the police officer said in a low tone.

Your head lifts and brows furrowed in confusion, asking what he meant by the word ‘gone’. He gulped, hesitating a bit if he should tell you or not. In the end, he decided to do it.

“He’s dead, y/n.” he revealed that made your heart fell. You slowly shake your head side to side, denying it.

For the past two days that you are here, you have lived with the thought that he’s the one who captured you and kept you. Now that the police is saying that he’s dead, changes everything again.

“He died the same day that you’ve been kidnapped, three months ago.”

“T-Three months?” you are surprised to know you’ve been gone for so long.

“Yes.” he nods and your eyes dropped at your hand resting by your lap.

“We’re afraid that your captor is still on the loose and he might be just around—” the door to your hospital room burst open.

Your tearful eyes softens at the sight of Yang Jungwon entering. His eyes are fixed right at you before scanning the whole room. His brows furrowed hardly at the sight of police officers inside.

“W-Won...” you stuttered and sniffed, tears pooling your eyes even more.

Jungwon’s still wearing his school uniform when he close the door behind him then slowly walks towards your bed. His strict eyes darts at the officer beside.

“Mr. Yang,” he greets and bowed before standing up. Jungwon stood firm as place his hand at the small of your back, instantly sending comfort towards you.

“We’re just doing some more interviews to miss (surname).” he informs politely.

“Can’t you do that some other time? You’ve been doing that for two days straight. It can be harmful for her.” he sounded so serious but his touch over you is gentle.

The police officer exchange glances before they decided to go call it a day. He watch as they leave and bid goodbye to your parents. After they left, Jungwon turns his attention towards you. His eyes looked so worried for you and instantly, you can feel your heart beating so fast.

“Are you okay?” he asks gently, leaning forward so he’s the same level as your eyes.

Your cheeks heated up because his face was so close and you can see how handsome he is. For the past two days that you’ve been confined here, he visited you. He’s so kind and caring that made you feel comfortable around him.

“Y-Yes.” you shortly replied.

Both of you stared at each other's eyes, doesn’t really want to break the eye contact. Your parents slowly approaches while having a warm smile on their faces. They couldn’t express how thankful they are to the family of Yang. They’re the ones who kept helping them to search for you. He takes after his good father, always very helpful.

They still remember when he saw him still wearing his hunting outfit while talking to the police officers outside the emergency room. It was the day that you are found. Jungwon’s eyes shifted over to your Mom when she approaches with tearful eyes.

“Thank you so much, Mr. Yang!” she exclaimes as she reach for his hand.

Jungwon showed her a small smile, “Just call me Jungwon, Mrs. (surname).” he politely said and even caress her arms.

She can’t explain what she felt those moment. Extreme happiness and relieved showers her, preventing her from seeing who truly is Yang Jungwon. His angelic face and warm smiles are perfect facade to hide the devil inside him.

“Thank you for bringing back my baby.” she pursed her lips and stared straight to his eyes.

Jungwon tried his best not to scoff right there and then.

‘Your baby?’ he asked sarcastically in the back of his mind. ‘She’s no longer yours. She’s mine. All mine.’ were the words he wants to say.

“No problem.” he says.

“Thank you.” your father shortly said after clapping his shoulder.

Jungwon’s eyes met his and for some reasons, there's something that flickers through your Father’s eyes. Besides relief and happiness, there’s a hint suspicion that flashes in a split second. He saw it.

He didn’t said anything about it and just bows for him, jaw slightly clenching.

Of course, none of them took suspicion that it was him who found you. Their alibi was perfect. Every week, Jungwon and his friends often hunt at the forest as a hobby. Something unquestionable for the town’s people as the group of friends really do have extraordinary activities. Some things that rich people do enjoys.

He found you and called the ambulance for you right away. Police and some journalists sworms the hospital afterwards. He was questioned too while the doctors and medical staffs of Jaeyun’s family owned hospital checks on you. That’s not a surprise anymore. Its just like how they predicted it. He didn’t even stutter as he shares his side of story. It was scary how convincing he sounds. He has no remorse and shame.

“Sorry if I arrived late. We got dismissed pretty late.” he says and cupped your face.

You shook your head side to side to assure him that it was completely fine. He doesn’t need to say sorry at all. In fact, you and your parents are starting to feel shy towards the Yang family. They had done so many things for you already.

“Y-You’re not required to visit me everyday...” the hint of denial evident towards your tone.

You don’t know if its because he’s just really nice or the fact that he ‘saved’ you made you attached to him. Whenever you see him, you just feel safe and secured. It was so strange.

“I want to.” he says and grabbed your hand.

Your eyes dropped to look at it and your stomach churns at the sight of his big hand engulfing yours. It was warm and comforting.

“Y/n, dear.” your Mom called you.

Your heads whips at her direction and you saw that she’s unpeeling the apple that Jungwon just brought for you. She flashes a warm smile before glancing at Jungwon, then back at you.

“We were talking about it and we decided that it would be safe for you to stay with Jungwon while your captor is still on the loose.” she announced.

Your eyes met with Jungwon and he’s smiling at you. His dimples so deep that you’re sure he’s being genuine.

“Are you sure its fine? You’ve done so much for me already.”

He tilts his head, “Its more than fine. I will feel more at ease when you’re near me. We never know where your captor is. I just want you to be safe.” he said then glanced at your parents. “We all want you safe.”

You stayed silent, contemplating. You want to stay with him. Like you mentioned, you feel safe around him. But besides feeling shy of being a bother, something in you tells you to decline the offer.

Jungwon’s thumb caress your hand snapping you out from your trance. His eyes stares at you softly, hypnotizing you.

“Y/n?” he calls.

“Don’t worry, honey. We will visit you all the time.” your Dad assured you and your eyes met his for a while before you finally nod your head.

Jungwon broke into a wider smile and tugs you closer to him, embracing you. He rests his head on top of yours as you snuggle over his chest, spacing out again.

“You’ll be all right.” he mumbles as all of you missed a ghost of evil smile spreading across of his handsome face.

“Her Dad is obviously suspicious of you, Won. What you going to do about it?” Jake cracks his neck before resting his back over their couch.

“If I were her Dad, I’ll suspect him to be the mastermind too.” Jay chuckles while busy playing his nintendo.

Jungwon shoot glares over his friend whose still busy with his game, bickering with Ni-ki from time to time.

“He’s not doing anything that can sabotage our plan so I think its still good.” he stated.

“And what if he tries to investigate himself? Like making you believe that he’s going along with you when he’s just gaining your trust and find the right timing to make a move?” Sunghoon asks.

He glances over his hyung and smirks, “Then I’d get rid of him.” he said without hesitation.

Sunoo chuckles, “Y/n will end up hating you.”

Jungwon smirks, “She won’t know its me. Besides, if she lost someone important she will be more vulnerable and she will lean on me more.”

Ni-ki lets out a big sigh, “You’re crazy, hyung. It’s so scary. I'm just glad I’m one of your friends.” he then laughed.

He and his friends are currently hanging out, trying to check if everything’s ready for what’s about to unfold tomorrow. They’re going for (Heeseung’s girl) plan.

“Its still crazy that she thinks she can pull this off.” Jake stated and smirks while looking at Heeseung.

The eldest grins, “Isn’t she adorable? She wants me so bad.”

Jay showed a displeased look on his face. “I’m just happy that it will be easier on our side. She’s digging her own grave.”

“Ah right,” Sunghoon says, “Did you get the pass from Irish? We need to roam around the building tonight to check the vicinity.”

Heeseung nods and pulls out the card from his pocket then handed it to Sunghoon. All of them then called it a day, heading out from their hangout place.

Before Jungwon enters their family car, his phone chimed for a newly received message. A smile made its way to his lips seeing your familiar contact name flashing through his screen. He went inside and his driver gets in too.

He taps his phone and called your number.

“Hi baby, I’m on my way home to you.”

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