#but. hawthorn was interesting. i liked him

[celtigxr]

THE PINK DREAD - CH. 26 (Masterlist)

Chapter Summary: Aegon attempts to court Valeana properly this time. In his own, Aegon-y way. Word Count: 6018 CHAPTER WARNINGS: 18+ , MDNI. Horny!Aegon, Brief discussion of non-con things. Alcohol.

Series tags: Aemond x Plus size!OfC, Aegon x Plus size!OfC, Celtigar!ofc, Plot with Smut, mdni 18+, Aemond End Game, Angst, Comedy, The Dragons Don't Dance, slow burn, friends to enemies to lovers, enemies to friends to lovers.

Credits: Lace Banner by Aquazero, pearl divider by Pommecita

Notes: ya welcome👋

When Aegon awoke that morning, his mind was just as muddled and fuzzy as everyone else’s in the Keep, though his was much louder with chatter from last night. His voice, his mother’s, Valeana’s, and Catelyn Redwyne’s.

During their dance, he had an interesting conversation with her; she was young, four years his junior, and yet wiser. Cat read him like a book in the time it took them to do the ceremonial dance at the beginning of the ball, but instead of chastising him (which his mother did later that eve, and again that morning), she instead gifted him some of her feminine insight. 

“Is this faux courtship a ploy to help her win back Aemond, or help you win her?” She had said with eyebrow raised and mouth pulled in a knowing smirk. 

Aegon stared at her, completely stunned at how easily she pulled out her conclusion. He stuttered, trying to say otherwise, but then Cat begged him to stop with a cute little laugh before continuing. 

“It’s just like the book, The Knight and I. Lady Deana Bettley and Ser Tymond Hawthorne get into a fake relationship to help each other. Deana had been scandalized, and no suitor wanted her, but with Tymond courting her, suitors started to desire her out of jealousy. And Ser Tymond does not wish to marry, wanting to live the life of a rake for the end of his days, so he uses Deana –a maid from a higher house– to cease his father’s badgering. But! They eventually fall in love with each other, because of all the time they spent together in order to keep up with their charade. Unfortunately, by the time Tymond even realized he loved her, she had gained the attention of the Lord of the Vale, and was set to be betrothed. It was all very romantic.”

After she had just gushed about the plot of her book – which to Aegon sounded like a right bore – he just blinked at her. Catelyn blushed heavily, and looked down embarrassed. 

“I really like reading,” she said in a small voice, her eyes flickering around the ballroom coyly. 

“I can see that,” Aegon offered her a small laugh to ease her shyness. He wet his lips, eyes glancing over at Valeana and Jacaerys, who appeared to be having a discussion of their own. With a swallow, he asked, “What…What did Lord Tymond do… to win her back?”

Cat looked back up at him through her lashes and a small smile crept on her plush pink lips.

Emboldened by Catelyn Redwyne’s advice, Aegon ignored his mother’s lecture about conduct, her plea for him to stop pursuing Valeana, and her warning if he failed to do so. There was nothing she could do to him that she hadn’t done already; slapped him, insulted him, rolled her eyes in his direction, reminding him at every turn that he was a disappointment. What was she going to do now? Tell him that he isn’t fit to be king, and find a worthy one in Aemond instead? That would be doing him a grand favour indeed. At least then she could pawn Helaena off to him, and Aegon would be free to take Valeana as his bride. 

What a double-edged sword that would be for Aemond. Getting half of his desires, while Aegon frolicked with everything he desired: freedom and Valeana, heavy with his child. 

His cock swelled at the mere thought of it. Tits large and weeping with milk, stomach rounded with evidence of his claim to her body, cunt tightly wrapped around his cock as she bounced on his hips. Aegon had to call in Hildy to aid his intense desires last night after the ball, leaving the pale-haired maid in a sweaty mess on his bed, her three holes thoroughly wet and spent. 

Aegon never lusted for a single woman so intensely, it almost frightened him. Though what was more frightening was the prospect of her not being his, which is what drove him to orchestrate his first, official move to woo her. 

“Aegon, how the hell did you get in here? Hardy at the front,” Valeana whispered harshly to him, arms tightly wrapped around her chest, that maroon robe snuggly wrapped around her. 

They carefully walked out of her shared bedroom with Shyla, closing the door silently, leaving them alone in the girls’ solar. 

“The secret passage of course,” he answered as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. At her look of confusion, he elaborated, “There’s one in Floris’ room.” 

“How do you even know–” She cut herself as her memory caught up with her. “That is how you put those toads in her bed without being caught.”

Aegon giggled softly, “That’s what she gets for tattling. C’mon, let’s get out of here.” 

They moved quietly into Floris’ room as if they were approaching a den of lions. The Grafton girl was sprawled out like a starfish in her bed, occupying as much space as possible in her large mattress– twice as large as Valeana and Shyla’s. It seemed like a waste, in Aegon’s opinion. He and Val could have occupied that bed until the sun rose, and her family would be none the wiser for it. 

The gateway to the secret entrance was behind a squat bookshelf that housed more baubles and shoes than actual books. It was already ajar, Aegon didn’t want to waste time trying to find the latch to re-open it. There was a low dim of light from the torch that he left inside, a little down the way so the light wouldn’t wake up the beast in the bed. Motioning her to follow, they crawled into the portal, and with a gentle tug of the latch, the inconspicuous shelf-door closed behind them. 

Taking her hand, he guided her through the twisting passageway, ensuring that she didn’t trip over the narrow stairways that spiraled down. They then entered a cavernous corridor with arched ceilings that looked like a never ending tunnel to nowhere. With her hand still in his, and the torch in his other, Aegon led her not far from that point, until he got to another inconspicuous secret passage in the form of a slab of stone. 

“Hold this,” he handed the torch to her, and went over to put his entire weight into rolling the stone away. A gust of tepid summer night air wafted into the musky passageway, blowing at Valeana’s silvery strands that framed her face. The rest of her hair was in a very long loose braid, laying upon her shoulder before ending in a knot at her waist. The idea of wrapping it around his wrist and yanking her head back as he took her from behind was not lost on him. 

Beyond the stone slab was a balcony carved from the cliffside itself. It was large, overlooking the crags and the crash of waves of the Blackwater Bay below. There were some statues in the four corners, broken, littered with moss and barnacles. The balcony, if Valeana would call it that, was particularly low along the side of Aegon’s Hill, so it was safe to assume that during winter and autumn, and during the storms throughout spring, the waves of the sea would become so high it would fold over the stone fence that framed the terrace, soaking the area in ocean debris. That night was not one of those nights. The water was calm, though still dangerous as it pushed against the side of the mountain, foam splashing here and there as it attempted to reach the ledge. 

“Aegon…” Valeana stepped out in the open, head pivoting in every which way, seeing nothing but a moonless blanket of black and navy, dotted by stars and creased by waves. No city lamplights, no life, beyond the two of them. There were two braziers that were already lit; the light it offered at such a grand space was dim but enough to see without strain. When she turned around to face the cliffside, she saw what Aegon had left for her. A plush duvet, anchored by a dozen fat, plush pillows. There was a silver cloche sitting in the middle, flanked by amber goblets and two filled carafes of what was likely wine. There were candles there too, some still lit while others had been blown away by the ocean breeze.  

When she turned to him, eyes looking like two emerald stars, Aegon suddenly felt like a child wrecked with nerves. “... What is this?” 

The possibility of rejection lingered in the recesses of his mind, a foreign concept to him since Aegon wasn’t used to rejection. He would simply ask for a girl and she would be granted to him without complaint. A privilege of the title ‘prince’ that he had come to take for granted. Valeana could reject him, and be within her right, and he could ignore it and force himself upon her, and it would be within his right as prince of the realm, as he was entitled to everything and everyone he desired. 

But then she would hate him for an eternity, and curse his bloodline and soul, and Aegon would be left a shell of a man, with nothing but his regrets, all for one night of carnal release. No, forcing himself on her was never an option. He also wasn’t the type of man who wished to see a woman in pain beneath him. Nothing was more of a turn on than enticing world-shattering pleasures on a body with his own hands, mouth, and cock. It was the closest thing to power he had, and he wanted nothing more than to show that to her, if she’d have him. 

He didn’t answer her question, just simply smiled and gestured towards the little nest he had made for them, “Sit. I have cheese, bread, grapes, and salted meats.” 

She eyed him curiously, a tad suspiciously, but still trusted him nonetheless. Aegon watched her descend into the blanket and pillows with gleeful satisfaction. He quickly deposited the torch into the nearest brazier, then practically skipped over to join her. 

Valeana watched him for a beat as he gingerly lighted the doused candles using one that was still lit. “Are you going to tell me what all of this is?” 

“Well,” he began, lighting the last candle. “This platform was where the Old King and his Queen would land their dragons after taking them to flight around the Crownlands. It was a quicker and more surreptitious way for them to get into the Keep without stopping at the Pit and taking a horse or carriage back.” 

Aegon took the domed lid off of their late night meal and smiled up at her, “It’s said that Jaehaerys and Alysanne conceived Saera Targaryen on this very terrace.”

Valeana tilted her head at him, her suspicious gaze turned more like curiosity, “And why is it that you brought me here in the dead of night, Aegon?”

He was pouring the goblets now, “Well, I am… trying to court you.” 

Her mouth popped open, but words escaped her. When Aegon handed her the first goblet, she tentatively took it. 

“I know, I know…” He trails off, already reading her thoughts. Aegon stared into his goblet as he swirls around the red liquid, mixing the tannins around until they dissipated. “We have an arrangement. This was supposed to be a ruse, but… but, hells, this is difficult to say.”

“Aegon,” Val inhaled deeply, her shoulders sagged a bit, the load of an unsaid burden weighing her visibly. “I must speak to you abou–”

“Valeana,” he interrupted her, his smile pained, almost quivering as he tried to bite back his nerves. “Please. I wish to speak this before the words are lost on me.” 

She folded her lips under her teeth and nodded. 

Aegon took a generous sip from his goblet before putting it back down, “I remember what I said to you at the Ball last night. At least, most of it. I wish I had said it a little more… gently and less crass, but I do not regret it. It was the truth… and, hells, Valeana, what I’m trying to say is that I’ve grown fond of you. Quite fond. And I do not wish for us to be a charade anymore.”

His words tumbled through his wine stained lips, eyes looking everywhere other than hers own; her hands, the folds of her robes, the peak of her prosthetic that could be seen through the thin muslin material of her chemise. But his purple eyes found her green ones in the end, and the fear of rejection spiked. Aegon could read her hesitancy as plainly as the stars in the sky. Her eyes danced between his, searching for something in them. Glancing down, the prince took her free hand in his and ran his thumb over her knuckles. 

“If you do not want me, I will leave you alone–”

“Aegon,” her lids shut before the sting of her eyes became too much. “I would be lying if I said I haven’t grown fond of you either.”

Like the waves of the ocean, relief washed over him, but like the crags and spires of stone that protruded around Aegon’s Hill like a natural jagged crown, it crashed with more worry. There was a ‘but’ coming, the way her words hung there, at the edge of a cliff. 

“Aemond and I reconciled that same night. He–” she shook her head and cleared her throat. “I will spare you the details, but it was enough for me to let him back into my life. Not entirely, but… I am giving him a chance to redeem himself.”

His heart was beating frantically in his ribcage, telling him “you lost” over and over again. 

She squeezed his hand then, but the gesture felt condescending, and he considered ripping it away from her. But then Valeana pulled it to her lips and kissed his fingers tenderly, and he was back to putty in her hands. 

“I have not made a decision… My heart is hopelessly torn.”

Aegon felt that awash of relief again, this time the tides brought hope that filled his lungs, making it easier for him to breathe. “Don’t make a decision yet,” he watched her mouth as he moved his fingers so he was now holding onto her chin, thumb framing the lines of her lips. “I want my own chance, a fair shot. Please, Valeana, you said you would make it up to me all those days ago…This is all I want from you. A chance to win your hand.” 

He knew the answer before she said it, by the way she tilted her chin into the palm of his hand. There was still a sorrowful look in her eyes, and perhaps he didn’t entirely understand it, but he sympathized that she was truly of two different minds, trapped between an old love and the possibility of a new one. And… whatever the hells was going on with Jace. 

“Alright, Egg… Don’t let me regret it.”

Aegon grinned, “I’ll try not to, Crab Cake.”

Goblets clinked together and they were drained along with bits of bread, cheese, and meat. With the tense introduction of his motives gone, the evening was eased into a comfortable conversation about funny moments of their shared childhood, to more recent moments they shared together. The first carafe of wine was drained; a Reach vintage, provided by his co-conspirator and his sole supporter, Catelyn Redwyne. 

They now laid on their backs, faces flushed and minds a bit light and heavy at the same time. Valeana was popping grapes in her mouth, and Aegon was trying to make out constellations, but his vision couldn’t quite focus on them. 

“I wish I was a fly on that wall,” Aegon chuckled, the creases of his grin reaching his eyes.

“No, you were a wasp in my skirt that was causing me an immense amount of stress,” The humour in her tone told him that there were no hard feelings over the whole closet fiasco. Which felt like it happened ages ago; it was a bizarre feeling realizing that it led them to where they are now. “Why did you have to bite me?”

Aegon laughed loudly, his eyes trained to the sky, not at all aware that she had rolled her head to look at him. 

“I could not help myself, you looked delicious under there. I was a famished orphan, presented with a slice of warm cherry pie. I needed a nibble,” he shook his head, and then turned it just when she turned away from him, hands over her face. 

“Oh gods,” she laughed despite herself. 

From this angle, he had the perfect view of her chest. Her robes had loosened, creatina a wide V gap at her bosom, exposing her chemise underneath. In the firelight, he could make out the shape of her mounds through the light white fabric, including the small shadow of a beaded nipple underneath. The weight of her breasts sagged against her ribcage, falling just a bit to the side that when her arms folded, they pressed together, and he could see the depth of her cleavage. 

He bit his bottom lip, starting to feel the stir in his loins. His hand twitched and flexed, desperately trying to withhold back its nature to drive into his breeches. Seven Hells, why does she make him so hard? It isn’t the first time he’s seen breasts; he’s seen all sizes, shapes, some aged, some lopsided, some he nursed on like a newborn babe. Aegon was a young man who lived three lifetimes of depravity, and yet he is now reduced to a simpering boy on the cusp of manhood, desperate to see a tit. 

Then Valeana had to open her mouth and ask a question that did not help his present situation. 

“Do… Do you really have to… pleasure yourself after every interaction you have with me?”

His mind went blank, “What?”

“At the ball… you told me while we were dancing,” she cleared her throat as her voice lowered, as if quoting him verbatim would summon the ghost of Septa Jeyne. “That after every interaction we share, you have to find a corner to… fuck your hand.” 

“Ah,” Whipping his head back to the sky, he adjusted his legs by bending and crossing them in an attempt to shield his problem. Clearing his throat, Aegon nods his head, whether she sees him or not. She did, now that her head was rolled back to the side, looking at him, looking at the peaked fabric he was failing to conceal. “Yes, as embarrassing as it is to admit it. Even talking with you gets him all needy, and wanting for attention.”

If he were looking at her, he would’ve seen how her chest swelled and lowered with the laboured breathing of a woman overpowered by her wanton curiosity. A virgin who’s desire was like a new, unused candle, and she was willing to let him strike the flint to light it. 

“Like right now?” 

Her question took him off guard in more ways than one. Her tentative boldness that likely was spurred by the help of Catelyn’s strong wine (gods bless her), and Aegon’s shock of embarrassment from being caught. It was quite uncharacteristic of him; the flirt that he was, would have immediately taken the bait. Instead, the fool sat up and pulled a pillow over his crotch in shame. 

“You noticed, have you?” He gave a nervous laugh. There was a beat of silence where his mind yelled and berated him for allowing his prick to ruin the moment. This would surely not go well in his favour. Now Valeana would think him simply as a dog, with nothing on his mind other than to get his dick wet–

“Can…Can I help?” 

Aegon could have cummed right then and there. 

His head whipped in her direction; she was sitting up as well, her left leg bent up, enough for him to see the prosthetic, enough for him to see the outline of her thigh through her shift and the dark harnesses around it. Valeana’s gaze had a misty look about them, and Aegon realized it was because her pupils were dilated as they flickered from his face and down to his growing need for her. 

He decided to chuckle nervously again, wondering if she was joking, almost praying that she was. “Mayhaps we should call it a night. You are forgetting yourself, Crab Cake.”

“I’m not,” was her immediate reply. “I’m… I’m curious. And I want to see… I want to try.”

“Are you serious with me?” His eyes searched hers, trying to find any indication of a prank, one that he likely deserved after all those years of torment he bestowed upon her. But there wasn’t any. He saw curiosity, as she said, and he saw something else entirely. 

Hunger. She had hungry eyes. 

“If you do not need my help, Aegon, I can leave for five minutes–” she made a move to leave, but he caught her sleeve. 

“Oh, I need your help,” he allowed himself to grin, his tongue running over his bottom lip like a salivating dog. “Desperately.” 

Even in the night, dim with the orange glow of the braziers and contrasted by a deep blue hue of the ocean, Aegon could make out the pink blooms staining her cheeks. Like a shy little doe, he coaxed her with his hand to come closer, and she crawled to his side. 

Aegon laid against the stone wall behind them, a cushion at the small of his back and his goblet long forgotten. Valeana sat on her knees, her hands balancing her sides as she eyed his clothed erection, and he watched her closely, waiting for any indication of doubt. 

“You can back out anytime you want to, darling,” he whispered, his fingers moving down to the laces of his breeches, his legs spreading a bit out of instinct. “It will be painful for me, but I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable.” 

Val looked up at him with a curious expression, “Painful?”

He smiled and hummed, “It can be when I do not get release, but… You needn’t worry about that.” His eyes dipped down to his crotch, where the laces had come loose. Aegon gave a soft groan when he was finally freed, heavy in his hand and already weeping. 

Valeana’s mouth popped open and her breathing had laboured. He kept his eyes on her intently, waiting for her to change her mind, but all she did was stare and adjust herself next to him. Her thighs pressed together, and her hands balled into fists atop them. 

Aegon gave himself three strokes with his left hand before gently grasping her wrist with his right, “Here let me help you.” 

She let him take her hand, but instead of bringing it straight to his middle, he brought it up to his lips and kissed her palm reassuringly. Val blinked at him shyly, her teeth kneading the flesh of her bottom lip, the same lip that curled at the ends in a sheepish smile. With her hand in his, Aegon brought it down to his throbbing cock and wrapped her fingers around its girth. They both gasped at the contact. 

He could feel the trembling of her hand beneath his, “Do you want to stop?”

Valeana shook her head immediately, “No, no, I just– I don’t know what I’m doing.” 

Aegon ran his tongue over his bottom lip and nodded, “It’s alright. I’ll help you, my darling. Here, start by stroking up and down– Ugh, that’s it… Not too tightly. Mmm, yes, yes…”

His eyes fluttered closed for a moment, keeping his palm on hers to guide the slow, languid strokes. Aegon could start to feel her confidence after a minute, he was barely moving his wrist with her. Valeana found her rhythm, but that wasn’t enough for Aegon. 

“Spit on it,” he ordered with a rumble of his chest. Val’s response was a hum of confusion, her strokes halting for a moment. “Spit on it, Val. On the tip, it will help.” 

Valeana did not question it despite her tentativeness and coyness. She leaned over him, her nose less than a foot away from the reddened helmet of his cock. He could so easily just take his hand and push her head down, and her lips would be upon it. It took every muscle in his body to prevent him from doing so, especially when her lips pouted and a large droplet of saliva dropped down onto him. His dick twitched, and he groaned. 

He no longer needed to guide her hand. With him being decently lubricated, her strokes became faster, more confident. Aegon’s back arched when he gave a soft whimper, “Not so fast.” 

“Am I hurting you?” Her question was so soft and sweet. 

“No, no, I just– I don’t want to cum just yet,” he opened his eyes and looked at her through a hooded gaze. “Slower… Use your thumb on the tip– fuck, yes, like that. Fuuucking hells, Valeana, you’re a natural.” 

His praise emboldened her, excited her, enticed a rumbly moan from her chest that immediately caught his attention. Aegon has been around enough aroused women in his days to recognize one in physical need. He reached out and placed a hand on her thigh, his fingers curled around the fabric of her chemise, which was now fully exposed. At some point the belt of her robe had loosened, and it pooled behind her like a cape. 

Valeana startled under his touch, her strokes stopping when she looked at him, “Aegon…”

“Let me return the favour,” his plea was soft, his fingers were not when they started to tug at the fabric that shielded her vanity from him. “I’ll make you feel so good, I swear…” 

Aegon must have made a mistake, because she retracted from him, hands hugging her stomach, hiding herself from him. In his panic, his body went stiff as he sat up to immediately apologize. For what, he wasn’t sure, but now she looked incredibly insecure. Perhaps he tried to breach a boundary. 

“I’m sorry, Crab Cake, I didn’t mean– Please don’t stop, you felt so good…”

She nodded, giving him a faint smile, “I’m just not ready…for that, right now. But I don’t want to stop.” 

His smile was grateful, it was full of relief. Aegon planted a kiss on her shoulder, “I understand, darling. Hm…” he trailed off as he got an idea, birthed from the need to feel her as much as possible, in ways she would allow him. “Sit on my leg.”

Her brow furrowed, “Why?”

“Trust me,” impatiently he took her by the waist and pulled her onto him, prying her legs apart when her body moved over his. Now Valeana sat upon his thigh, the skirt of her chemise pooling around her legs as her bare cunt was on him. Well, almost bare. With his hands still on her hips, he could feel the outline of cotton shorts underneath. 

Valeana looked down at him, all wide eyed and innocent. He smiled at her like a fox to a rabbit, his fingers kneaded the supple flesh of her hips through the muslin. Then, Aegon took her hand and brought it to her own mouth. 

“Spit again,” his words were gentle, his eyes were dark. Valeana obeyed; her cheeks twitched as she gathered the saliva onto her pallet and deposited it into her palm. Aegon guided it back to his cock, which twitched in anticipation when her warm velvety touch enveloped it again. “Good girl,” he moaned through pouty lips. 

Val’s breath hitched in her throat at the praise. Her eagerness to please him was evident at her enthusiastic strokes, now pulling on his muscle from base to tip, using beads of his pre-ejaculate as more lubricant. Her thumb painted the head with it, moving along the crease, feeling every ridge and vein, drinking up every moan and groan that came from him. 

She hadn’t realized it, not until Aegon’s fingers dug into her hip, but she was grinding on his thigh. The thin seam of her cotton shorts was too loose to keep in place, and with every movement of her hips, the more it migrated off to the side. Her pearl was now flushed against the rough fabric of his breeches, making her core stir with heat, like a volcano about to erupt. 

“Mmm, does that feel good, my darling?” His nose hovered over her neck before he planted kisses. Her response was a meek “mhm” with her teeth digging into her bottom lip. “Good. Your hand feels fantastic, I can only imagine other parts of you…” 

After he said this, his hands pawed up her sides until they reached her shoulders. Aegon’s lips had never left her neck and sternum, peppering them with open mouthed kisses and licking her skin to savour every salty taste of her. His fingers curled around the neckline of her robe and chemise, yanking it down over her shoulders. 

“A-Aegon,” her plea might have been an attempt to stop him, but it was poorly communicated through a pleasured whine. Her hips did not stop, her hand did not cease, but her free one went to grab his elbow. 

“Please,” he whined into her clavicle. “Please. I am so close… I want to cum with your tits in my face.” Aegon’s hands pawed and gripped at her body in heady need. He was so desperate to strip her down naked, but he would settle for just her breasts. Always there on display, so close yet out of reach. Even pressed up against his clavicle, they were soft and inviting, he could see himself suffocating between them. A perfect way to die, next to having his nose buried in her cunt with her thighs crushing his skull. 

Aegon whimpered when she unlatched her grip on his cock, but her movements spoke to her motivations. He pulled away from her neck and watched her with baited breath and famished eyes as she snaked her arms out of the red robe, and then started to unlace the front of her gown. With slow, methodical movements, Valeana tucked her arms through her sleeves and pulled them out through the neck of the chemise, effectively pulling it over her ample chest and bunching it around her waist. 

“Maiden, Mother, and Crone,” Aegon groaned at the sight. Soft and pale, like white silk, her mounds glowed under the firelight. Her areolas were wide, light pink in colour, and her nipples were small pebbles nesting in the middle. There were splotches of yellow here and there, on her right areola, on her left breast, all evidence of his brother’s earlier expedition. The sight of it caused a rush of possessiveness in him, his lust for Valeana mixing with his desire to beat his brother. His lips and hands were upon her in an instant, desperate to erase traces of Aemond from her skin. 

“Ae-gon!” She gasped his name, and he moaned in return. 

Aegon gripped her hand and brought it back to his cock, wrapping her fingers around his girth and helped her resume her strokes, harder, and faster than before. His lips were bruising as he found one of her nipples and latched onto him. Taking both of his hands, he kneaded her breasts, pushing them together as Aegon’s tongue lapped up the plush flesh. 

His ministrations were not gentle, but not unwelcome, as evidenced from Valeana’s series of licentious whines and the vigor of her hips as they bucked against his thigh. Her hand worked him desperately, her fingers moving along the rim of his helmet, collecting pearls of seed to coat the sensitive flesh underneath. Her curious hand moved southward, finding the soft pouch of his stones, and testing the feel of it between her little fingers. 

“Ah-uh!” Aegon’s hipped buck forward, then he gave a soft laugh, “Oh, Valeana, you vivacious little creature.” He buried his nose in the valley of her breasts and gave a soft moan as she massaged his family jewels, which were tight and sensitive underneath the soft skin. 

He felt her cheek upon the top of his head. Her voice came to him, soft and coy, a sweet mask to hide her newly debauched mind, “Does that feel good?”

“Ohh, you have no fucking idea,” his chuckle came out like a growl. With a moan he captured a nipple in his mouth, biting it softly between his front teeth, and making her squeal. “Stroke me, love. I’m almost there…” 

Her hand found his cock again, the muscle flexing in her grip as she moved it from tip to base, collecting as many pearly tears as she could to make her strokes wet and seamless. Aegon began rutting into her hand, increasing the pace, which spurreed her to do the same with her hips. 

“Fffuck,” He growled into her chest. His hands roamed all over her body, gripping and pinching at every curve and roll he could find. His mouth found another nipple, sucking onto it with a long groan. Aegon’s arms pulled her snugly to his body, one splayed against her back, and the other one roaming over the curve of her arse, and gripping a cheek possessively. His fingers dug through the fat of her rear, grazing the puckered hole hidden beneath the prison of her clothes. 

“Y’so bloody gorgeous, Valeana. I wanna fuck you so fucking bad,” Aegon groaned into the meat of her breast. “‘M gonna… Fuck, I’m almost– Ahh!”

The built up was immense. His stones tightened and the base of his cock tingled at the sensation of his seed. Her fingers coiled tightly under the helmet, sending him over the ledge. A rush of pleasured release overtook him, shuddering his body as ropes of his spend shot out and coated her hand and leg. Valeana still stroked him through it, the good little girl that she was, but he was getting sensitive, and it became borderline torturous. 

Aegon’s hand shot out to grip her wrist to stop her, “Ooh, love…Y’can’t empty me any further.” His mind was blank with ecstasy and exhaustion, not being able to do anything other than lay his face between her breasts and try to breathe. 

When he at last lifted his heavy head, she was looking at the pearlescent seed all over fingers. Aegon wondered if this was the first time she has ever seen a man ejaculate – or a man, in general. The thought bolstered his ego, of course. Now he truly had something Aemond did not have. 

Not being able to contain his grin of victory, he nuzzled his nose into the crook of her neck, and planted gratified kisses along the junction next to her shoulder. But she was quiet, a little too quiet for his liking, and the seeds of doubt started to take root.

Aegon lifted his head to look at her, his brow slightly knitted, “Do you regret it?”

Valeana turned to him, a small sheepish smile on her swollen lips. She’d likely been kneading them with her teeth the entire time, trying to stifle her moans as if anyone were able to hear them out there. 

“No,” she shook her head. “I actually… Liked it a lot.” 

A slow grin split his face. Her confession was enough to get him hard again, “Well, we can do it as many times as you like, Crab Cake. I’ll just have to let poor Hildy know that she can retire from my services.”

Valeana snorted adorably, then quickly covered her mouth, “Oh, gods, Aegon, my fingers will go nowhere near your bum.”

He mock pouted, “A pity. I have a nice bum, and you have such soft fingers.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN SNEAK PEAK Heat bloomed at her cheeks, “He was trying to flee my sister, and pulled me into a closet as his captive. He was a nuisance, that is all. And because I know this will fill you with joy, I beat him with a broomstick afterwards.”  Jace grins broadly, “You are right, that does fill me with joy.” He then clears his throat, “And your courtship with him… is that conjecture too, or…? Images of Aegon’s cock in her palm flashed in her mind.  “No,” she forced herself to say. “That… is true.”  He stared at her, face full of incredulity, “I was hoping that to be untrue. Valeana, why on earth would you be courting Aegon, of all people? He has not changed, at all.” “It is a long and complicated story,” she sighed, “One I am tired of explaining.”  Jace was unconvinced, though. No matter the reasons, whether they were rational or not, he was determined to convince her otherwise.  “You remember how Aemond was the only one amongst us that did not have a dragon?” Valeana stared at him for a beat, “...yes. And you lot teased him relentlessly for it.” “Aegon the most, if you recall,” Jace briefly glanced at her before returning his eyes to the path.

Notes: 6000 words dedicated to a hand job. That has to be the first, right? Don't worry, Aemond's gets his whole chapter too, and it's a chonky girl. Also shout out Bridgerton, XD The Knight and I was obvie supposed to be The Duke and I if y'all didn't catch that. Right, anyway, so my struggle is still going on, but I'm trying. Not liking how close the updates are getting to my current writing spot. But I'm hoping I can catch up soon. I'm trucking on, though, and I'm hoping I can get a chapter done before the end of this week. And if anyone missed it, if you're interested, check out my Fem!Aegon x Aemond one shot: Love Is With Your Brother.

Tag: @queen-of-elves, @keylin1730, @anakilusmos, @weepingfashionwritingplaid, @sugutoad, @desireangel, @t0biasparabatai

( if you wish to be tagged for this story, just give me a reply! )

Please do not re post, redistribute or plagiarize my work. The only other place this story is posted on is ao3 under the same username.

[sinusoidaldysfunction]

Hawthorn. The harbinger.

[alicentflorent]

I didn’t sit here for years tryna stay calm and silent while listening to your bad takes on gale (who grew up oppressed, in poverty and then witnessed his entire district getting wiped out then rightly went to fight in the rebellion because it was his inlg chance of tearing down the system the wanted him and his family dead) being a “terrorist war criminal who is single handedly responsible for killing innocent people including prim and who is the REAL villain of the hunger games” just for y’all to turn and start stanning and defending actual facist dictator and child trafficker Coriolanus Snow because you saw a young hot version of him.

[rosietrace]

Okok I know we all hate Tobias but I wouldn't mind if JLB ever decided to write a book about his life

[tridentarius]

hunger games fans have rly had their brains blinded by nostalgia and ‘omg this is peak political commentary actually’ bc they go right along w the author who’s father was a veteran of america agent oranging vietnam demonizing the poor revolutionary who’s right to be angry at the class exploitation from his fascist oppressor, which has whipped him and fire bombed his home, which he managed to courageously save several ppl from, simply bc he’s justifiably angry and willing to use violence against his oppressor.

literal horseshoe theory to think that an oppressed person can be ‘just as bad’ as their oppressor. and the thing is an oppressed person has a right to violently resist an oppressor. the nut in district 2 is a military stronghold that supplies a fascist state. gale literally is right for being willing to do the real bloody work of being a revolutionary idgaf. these ppl would bust a vein seeing cassian andor be willing to kill innocents to rebel against the empire. bc yes seeing cassian in his first scene in star wars rogue one kill an unarmed, innocent man is shocking! but you later learn to emphasize and understand that cassian, as a rebel, is willing to compromise his morals and do dirty, bloody work in the greater goal of revolution against fascism. And I bring that example up bc andor is a perfect way to write a rebellion and all its grey morality when suzanne Collins did not in mockingjay she just cast district 13 as being ‘Just as Bad’ as the Capitol whatever the fuck.

[s0undsinmyhead]

I decided to reread The Hunger Games trilogy and I gotta say this trend of absolutely hating Gale and calling him a war criminal and selfish is such a miss.

Gale is by no means a perfect person. But none of the characters are. They all do bad or questionable things. They’re literally in the middle of a war. Even before it’s officially a war.

Yes Gale was jealous of Peeta and Katniss. Yes, there were significantly more important things going on. Gale knew that, he acknowledged that. But end of the day he’s still a teenager with emotions. Just like Peeta and Katniss who both also describe being jealous of Gale - Madge - Joanna. They also know it’s dumb given all the danger and death surrounding them. But surprisingly people still have emotions like love and jealousy during wartime - including teenagers.

As for the war criminal comments that’s a whole long discussion but let’s remember this is a world in which the government has been slaughtering children for entertainment and forcing all the districts that send their kids to watch them be murdered for the entirety of the main trios lives and long before them - it is all they have ever known.

Additionally, year round the capital treats the citizens like slaves and makes them produce whatever is necessary for the capital and then let’s them live in squalor starving to death. This is how Gale grew up. He was the oldest of 4 kids. His dad died when he was a kid and he was responsible for taking care of his mom and all his siblings. He had his name in the bowl for the reaping probably more than almost any boy in 12.

He watched his district and the men women and children he knew his whole life be burned alive while he had to lead as many to safety as he could. He watched his best friend be shoved into the hunger games twice knowing not only that he might lose her forever but that he would have 2 more people to care for and soon he would be forced into the mines full time with little opportunity to hunt.

So when a war breaks out to finally stop the abuses and murders by the capital of course Gale jumps in. Of course he plans to kill. It’s a war. And it’s nice to try and be a pacifist and say give peace a chance but how can you say that to your oppressors and expect anything to change. There had to be a war and there had to be death. Gale fought in the front lines and was willing to die to save his family and free the districts. It’s curious we never hear anyone call Beetee a war criminal when he made more weapons than anyone. Almost like it’s not the fact the Gale made weapons during a war, but that it was Gale.

[the-judicial-assistants-notebook]

... did phoenix ever go to visit dahlia in jail?

[rewrite-canon]

if only you guys knew who i was rooting for when i first started the inheritance games series…. (…it was xander)

[vampirehizzies]

and katniss herself (in the book/her internal monologue) also expresses frustration with this whenever gale brings it up. (if memory serves correctly) in the scene where d13 was bombed and she hung out with finnick because it gave her comfort and gale had a Weird Vibe about this katniss was like "jfc gale what now? do you think me & finnick are in love?"

gale's weird suspicion of katniss and finnick, his realizing he had feelings for her after darius briefly/harmlessly flirted with her... this might be an extreme reach/comparison but it has the same energy as coriolanus being overcome with jealousy and possessiveness whenever lucy gray had any hint of romantic interactions with other men or challenged his narrative that she was his and he had ownership over her.

I will never get over Gale’s stupid ass thinking that Finnick wanted Katniss at the beginning of Mockingjay, when the entire time that man was breaking down and longing for Annie. Like the whole reason Katniss and Finnick became close friends was their joined love and longing for Peeta and Annie who were both imprisoned in the capital together.

[starlightshadowsworld]

I do find it interesting how people genuinely believe Dazai's going to be the one to defeat Fyodor.

Let's just look at who's defeated major villian's in the series so far.

Fitzgerald was defeated by Atsushi and Akutugawa. Goncharov was defeated by Atsushi and Akutugawa.

Akutagawa kicked Hawthorns ass and than Lucy had him imprisoned in Anne's Room.

If it weren't for time travel shenanigans Atsushi would've killed Fukuchi. Atsushi killed Shibusawa in Dead Apple. Atsushi defeated Gabriel in 55 minutes.

And so on and so fourth.

Atsushi is also the one Fyodor's been trying to get his hands on from the beginning. Fyodor literally just left Dazai behind in France to go to where Atsushi is currently.

And it seems like the dude from the epilogue we saw fighting Atsushi (and than Akutugawa) is what's being summoned.

Not saying Dazai's never contributed to a fight but when it comes to taking villian's down, it's not him doing it.

And even if your talking about Fyodor's ability, there's no guarantee it would even work on Dazai to begin with.

And Atsushi has the ability to seperate a person's ability from themselves. Which would be a neat callback to Dead Apple but I doubt it'll be that simple.

I know it's apparently very easy to forget but Atsushi is the main character. He's the cat and Fyodor is the rat like... Come on.

[audliminal]

It's Just a Game, Right? Pt 4

Masterpost

"Okay, so like. We start with this video." Bernard says, bumping Tim's shoulder lightly. Huddling over a laptop together is a familiar experience; before they actually started dating they both regularly used laptop videos as an excuse to get close. It's a memory that Tim sort of cringes at, because now it seems so silly to be scared of Bernard not liking him back, and yet now he finds himself thinking back to those early days. The thrill of huddling together to solve a mystery is a little different from the thrill of being around your crush, but there's something there, a sort of excitement in questions yet to be answered.

"All right, hit me." And as Tim leans into Bernard a little harder, his boyfriend presses play.

The video is definitely weird. That much is immediately obvious. It seems to be a slideshow of pictures, complete with audio, but the pictures just seem off in a way that Tim can't describe and the audio is - it's a little sticky, but that is definitely Space Oddity, only it sounds kind of wrong like somebody's playing certain notes off key.

"Oh, that is definitely a Caesar cipher, huh?" Tim mutters. There's a line of text written beneath every photo in the little slideshow, but they're all garbled nonsense - it would seem entirely random, but Tim can already see a touch of pattern, some of the letters definitely appearing more common than others.

"Spy phase, huh?" Bernard teases. "I should've known you would already be on this stuff."

Tim grins and does his best to pretend he's not blushing. He's never been more grateful for his tendency to go overboard with his interests. The last thing he needs right now is Bernard asking questions about why he knows so much about code-breaking. Sure, he wants desperately to tell him all about Red Robin, but it's complicated with the rest of the family being implicated in your own identity.

The video continues in the same line for the whole duration of the song, then abruptly cuts off the second the last note of the song plays.

"Well, my first thought is that it seems kind of basic." Tim offers, at Bernard's expectant look.

"Right? Like when I first watched it I was kind of like what's the hype even about? But like, every video follows this general format, but the gradient of apparent code just keeps increasing, and it's like. What if there's more here and nobody ever realized they needed to look for it?"

"Okay well, the text has already been deciphered, right? So what does it say, and how'd they decode it."

"Here," Bernard switches tabs, to a document with screenshots of the various images. The first image was a simple photograph of a man, with the translated text reading Jonathan, January Thirteenth. The next photo, which was of an empty street, dusted with snow, read Hawthorn Way, Johnny's birthday. The rest of the photos followed in the same line. Simple labels describing who or what the photo showed and when they had been taken. None of the information seemed odd or suspicious, just the kind of photos that a family might take.

"Okay, it's a Caesar cipher, but each time the alphabet is being shifted a different amount."

"Yeah. And I already tried writing down the amounts in order to see if that meant anything but like.... No luck." Bernard gestures to his notes, where there is indeed a long number sequence.

"Okay, but how'd you solve it? Did anybody look for a clue to imply the shift or did they just brute force it?"

"I mean, there's literally websites that will run it for you, so I think people just did that." Tim hums, tapping his pen against his ear. The number sequence Bernard had shown him -

"None of the shifts are greater than eleven." Tim says. Bernard blinks, and glances back over his list.

"Huh. You're right, but what does that mean?"

"Means we need to figure out what's eleven." Tim reaches out and switches back the video and starts it again. The music still seems weird to him. He's no expert musician by any means, but he did take piano lessons for a bit when he was little, and more than that, he trusts his instincts. "There's only seven notes in a scale so it's not that..."

"A scale? Do you think there's something in the music? I mean other than it just being creepy?" Tim stares at Bernard.

"Bernard, you literally told me that you think it's all been more intentional than anyone realized. If that's true then the music definitely means something."

"Huh. Yeah, that is. Oh, we definitely needed new eyes on this, huh?" Bernard's huffs, then leans into Tim. "Okay well some the notes in the song are just straight up rank so maybe it's something to do with that?"

Tim hits play on the video again, focusing on the music. Six seconds in, a note hits, sounding very off.

"See?" Bernard says hitting pause. "It does that sometimes. Just plays a wrong note. I thought it was just to fuck with us, make us on edge, but maybe it means something?"

"We need the sheet music on this."

"Yeah? Do you know how to transcribe it?"

"Not reliably enough. But I know how to find someone who can."

"Babe, you're doing it again." Bernard laughs. "That could not have sounded more like Mafia energy if you tried."

"Oh my god, shut up."

[inmyheaddd]

dancing with our hands tied - grayson hawthorne x reader

a/n: grayson hawthorne talk about ur feelings for once challenge GO! warnings: jealous grayson 🙈, kind of angsty, mutual pining lmao, kissing, fluffy at the end wc: 1.4k masterlist

grayson hawthorne was a lot of things. but to you, the most important thing was that he was your best friend. as odd as it was, considering he didn’t really have friends to begin with. 

you don’t even remember exactly how you became friends, it’s like you woke up one day and it happened just like that.

your boyfriend of 3 months had just broken up with you, even though you were honestly planning on doing it first.

you were hurt, nevertheless, because you really hoped this time would be different at the start. you’d been trying to get over your stupid crush on grayson for ages now, but they were all futile attempts. 

he had never once shown any interest in you, in the years of knowing you, so why would you wait on him? if he clearly wanted to stay friends so badly, you’d stay friends. 

grayson could feel himself itching to tell you how he felt as you complained about how everyone was always wrong for you, but it wasn’t the right time. it never seemed to be the right time, and he couldn’t risk losing you. 

he hated himself for doing it, but he did it anyway. he briefly mentioned one of his ‘friends’, and how he had some interest in you. 

grayson said it would be good for you to go out instead of letting your abomination of an ex (his words) get to you. he never thought you’d actually go through with it.

 —

“what is your problem?” you scoffed at grayson as he glared at you from the doorway, his posture rigid. you sat on the edge of the bed, hastily fastening the straps of your heels.

he’d always be been caring, there for you, even funny when he wanted to be, which is why it was so odd for him to be acting like this now.

“i don’t have a problem,” he replied flatly, though the tightness in his voice said otherwise. 

“yes, you clearly do,” you shot back, your patience was getting thin. “i don’t get why you’re acting like this all of a sudden. you tell me to get over my ex, and then when I try to, you get mad?”

grayson’s jaw clenched, his eyes narrowing. “i didn’t tell you to get over your ex. and i’m not mad.”

“grayson, do you hear yourself?” you scoffed. “don’t even try to lie to me about not being mad, i know you are.” 

you gave him a pointed look before focusing on your shoes. the silence from his side was deafening, so you added, “whatever, just leave already. i have to go.” standing up with a huff, you tried to brush past him through the doorway.

but grayson moved faster, stepping in front of you, his hand gripping your waist— it wasn’t harsh in the slightest, but it still stopped you in your tracks.

“don’t go,” he said, his voice low and strained. “I know men like him. you can’t even call them men; they’re merely boys.”

you glared up at him, your frustration boiling over. “you act like everyone’s below you, grayson. i’m not a child, i can make my own decisions.” you looked him up and down, “besides, you were the one who mentioned him.”

his grip tightened ever so slightly, his eyes filled with something you couldn’t quite place. “i know that, but this isn’t about that.”

your brows furrowed, and your stomach felt heavy after hearing the emotion in his voice.“then what’s this about?” 

he was silent, again, so you sighed and went to get out of his grip to leave. he reached out for you before you could take a step, “you’re right, i’m mad.”

you scoffed again, “yeah? it didn’t take much guessing for that.” 

you saw him hesitate slightly. grayson hawthorne, hesitating — that’s something you don’t see every day.  

“yes, i’m mad. i’m mad at your imbecile of an ex for treating you how he did, i’m mad at myself for pushing you away and suggesting you go on this date, i’m mad at the whole universe it seems, but i’m not mad at you.” he looked at you so intently, with every word he said striking you to your core. 

you could feel the anger dissipating from your body as you looked into his grey eyes.

“never you.” he said softer this time, with a light shake of his head. 

“what are you saying?” you didn’t intend for your voice to come out as quiet as it did.

“i’m saying that it’s killing me everyday to see you with people who don’t deserve you,  who don’t treat you how you should be treated.” again, he hesitated, “who don’t see you the way i see you.”

you blinked, caught off guard by the vulnerability in his voice. “and how do you see me?” you asked, your voice quivering slighty. 

grayson let out a breath, his eyes searching yours as if he were trying to find the right words. “i see you as someone who deserves the world. i see you as the one who makes me want to become a better man.” he paused, “i see you as the only person who’s ever made me want more than what i have.”

you could feel your heart pounding in your chest as grayson’s words hung in the air between you. “then why didn’t you say anything, grayson? you had so long.” you questioned as your brows furrowed.

“i was waiting,” he trailed off, “it always felt like the wrong time. there were always complications with me that you didn’t deserve to deal with. you deserve someone good for you.“ he took in the way your brows were no longer furrowed, and that you weren’t angry anymore, so he spoke more lightheartedly.

“if i can’t be that for you, that’s fine. but i know clear as day that the man who posts his new cars on social media bi-weekly isn’t.”  

you let out a small chuckle, not even realising how your eyes had start to prick. you blinked back the tears as you spoke up, 

“but you are that for me, grayson. you always have been. i wish you would’ve told me sooner.” 

his brows furrowed slightly in genuine confusion, taking in your words. “i mean, ive just been trying to get over you with these guys.” you looked down at your feet briefly as you talked, “i thought— i thought you wanted nothing to do with me, so i tried to find someone else.” your gaze was focused on his now, “it never really worked, though.” 

“i’m glad that it didn’t.” the sincerity in his voice told you just how deeply he meant that.

for a moment, you just stood there, taking in the weight of everything that had just happened. “i’m glad it didn’t, too.”   

“i apologize for just telling you now, it was inconsiderate of me. i know your date will be coming any minute now.” his eyes softened, “if you want to go, i understand. you—“ 

“—grayson,” you cut him off with a small laugh, and he found himself smiling at the sound. “why on earth would i go when you’re here right infront of me? he’ll be fine; he talks to half of the female population.” 

he let out a small breathy chuckle, his shoulders visibly relaxing for the first time that evening. “i want to do this right with you.”

“everything you do is right with me.”

he took a step closer, his hand had moved  from your waist to your jaw and tilting your chin up slightly. “is this?” he asked quietly, swallowing thickly with hesitation.

you nodded, in a daze, and he leaned closer, his forehead almost touching yours. you could feel the ghost of his lips on yours as your breath hitched. 

it would’ve been impossible to hear him if he wasn’t as close as he was. “is this?” you felt his breath fan across your face as you nodded, and in a split second his lips were on yours. 

his hand moved to where your jaw met your neck, and his other hand moved to your waist again. you reached your arms up, wrapping around his neck.

when you pulled back, he was smiling, seriously smiling. you couldn’t help the laugh that escaped your lips. 

“what?” he asked, and you could hear the smile in his voice. 

you shook your head smiling, “i’m just happy, that we’re us, you know?” you looked for the right words, then spoke again “just me and you, but for real this time.” 

“i know. for real this time.” he echoed with a smile that matched yours, before pulling you into another kiss. 

the pieces had finally fallen into place, they had just taken a good long while to do so. 

taglist: @x-liv25-jamieswife @wish-i-were-heather @thecircularlibrary @whatsamongus

@anintellectualintellectual @tornqdowarnings @maybxlle @sheisntyou @emelia07

@littlemissmentallyunstable @sweetlikeanangel @midiosaamor

[whousestypewriters]

──── ୨ৎ IM A FAN — GRAYSON HAWTHORNE + READER ‧₊˚

a/n: hi lovelies! look its my first smau/fic (on this acc) and since i love making them here we are :))) hope you enjoy <3 sorry if this is too long btw. i need a grayson guys... maybe a possible series?!?!

grayson hawthorne was bored okay? he was bored, and for a man like him to be bored literally nothing must be happening. so how i hear you ask did he end up on the youtube page of a very popular booktuber? he blames xander, for watching her on the tv curled up with max earlier today. something about you.. intrigued him.

he stared at the account for the longest time before finally, finally clicking on your latest video about your fall tbr. and once he heard your voice it was like he was in a trance. the calmness of the video, your narration and the way you spoke to the viewers made him feel as if he was sitting there next to you on your bed.

he never watched this type of thing. he never really watched stuff at all. but suddenly here he was binge watching every single one of your videos. it was as if he had no control over himself and he just wanted to continue to watch them for the rest of the day.

by the time he had realised how late it was, it was dark out and the time read 6:43am. it must've been the delusion that made him type out the comment, or the fact that he hadn't actually slept yet. but either way he made a comment and that, that was the beginning of the start of everything.

────

you screamed. you actually screamed when you saw the comment on you post. grayson hawthorne??? the grayson hawthorne had watched your video? holy mother of-

the hawthorne's were notorious, all of them were, but grayson, he had the largest fanbase. the most obsessive one. the one with the girls that go crazy over anything and everything about him. its insane to think that he had commented on your video.

you thought it might've been just a once off. y'know he was just scrolling on youtube - yeah right thats not believable at all - and he happened to stumble across your video?

or maybe it was xander, he's followed you for a while actually, occasionally commenting and flirting with max in the comments. maybe he put grayson up to it. a once off.

so grayson commenting on your video really meant nothing - lies it meant everything - nothing, it meant nothing. who even cares? you definitely don't.

────

yn.books

liked by alya.green, maxine.liu.loo graysonhawthorne and 346, 282 others

yn.books what are you reading right now? (psst the book of the month is divine rivals by rebecca ross!)

view all comments

user1 the book queen posted!!!

user2 i bought divine rivals yesterday can't wait until my copy comes!!

user3 i died when i read the end 😭 roman and iris my babies

user4 OH OH OH GRAYSON HAWTHORNE IN THE LIKES??????

user5 RIGHT AND AFTER HE COMMENTED ON HER VIDEO A FEW WEEKS AGO

graysonhawthorne would you recommend divine rivals?

yn.books yes 100% its such a lovely read i definitely recommend you read it!

user6 GRAYSON??????????? GRAYSON??????

user7 GRAYSON HAWTHORNE WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE?????

────

"you bitch!" your best friend's voice fills your apartment as she rushes inside and stops dead in the living room. "why am i only now just finding out that grayson hawthorne comment on your posts?"

the murderous look on her face has you siting up quickly putting your book down on the couch. "...because i didn't tell you?"

"its the grayson hawthorne. i cannot believe that grayson hawthorne is commenting on your posts!" alya's harsh look turns gleeful as she rushes towards you and jumps on the couch - careful not to land on your book - and sidle up next to you to gossip.

"so why do we think he's interested in you all of a sudden?"

"he's not interested in me, alys."

"nope, he commented on your insta and your youtube, you're one step away from a marriage proposal now- hey, what type of wedding do you want?"

"we don't know, it could be xander's doing or even max's."

"nope you're gonna have kids together i can feel it."

"alya green-"

"OH MY GOD!!!!" she screeches jumping up and down. "OH MY GOD!!"

"WHAT? WHAT? WHAT?" you shriek back.

"LOOK!" she's grins shoving her phone into your hand

────

graysonhawthorne

liked by thehawthorneheiress, thexanderhawthorne ticking.time.bomb and 3, 622, 484 others

graysonhawthorne 🏛 💭 📖

view all comments

user1 OOHHHHHHHHHHH

user2 im giggling so hard rn i love this man

ticking.time.bomb why the sudden interest in reading gray?? 🤨 i saw the divine rivals copy in your bag

thexanderhawthorne THIS IS WHY HE HAD THAT BOOK?? gray are you trying to steal my book girl?

maxine.liu.loo excuse me she's my book girlie. not yours i just let you borrow her

user3 oh he's obsessed

user4 wish that was me fr

user5 i want himmmm

user6 the book girlies and the grayson girlies really won today

────

"grayson hawthorne," the sound of jameson's voice was never welcome in grayson's bedroom and clearly by the tone of his voice; this wasn't going to be good.

"when were you going to tell me that you picked up a fictional book? he paused. "even more so, when were you going to tell me that you got said fictional book from a 'book queen' of youtube."

grayson paused his reading and put down his copy of divine rivals, to look at a smirking jameson at his doorway.

"leave, jameson."

"okay gray, but let me know how your book goes, i hear it has a really shocking ending," jamie smiles and slowly walks away, calling out to xander to talk about books.

okay maybe his actions were a little out of character, but he wanted to understand what you were going to say in the next video. he wanted to be in the loop, to undertand what you were talking about.

he wanted to have something to talk to you about.

𐔌 . ⋮ 🏷️ tags .ᐟ ֹ ₊ ꒱

@arqbella, @midiosaamor, @maybxlle @reminiscentreader, @ecliphttlunar,

@tornqdowarnings, @catapparently, @zenikswaffleshop, @off-to-th-r4aces, @emila07

[sitp-recs]

Hello good morning afternoons or evenings, I hope you are having a wonderful day! I'm looking for fic Drarry where they both become a safe place for each other or have a strange connection with each other because only they can understand each other.

Hello anon! Oh I love this concept so much, I’m all for comfort fics like that. Here are some stories that came to mind:

A Little Death Never Hurt Anyone by @tackytigerfic (E, 4k)

Harry's getting good at slipping through the Veil. He's determined to win the war, even if means he has to raise the dead to do it. Draco just wants a stiff drink and a good night's sleep.

Thermodynamic Equilibrium by @dorthyanndrarry (T, 5k)

Harry's far too hot. Draco's always cold. And somehow against all odds, together they create a perfect equilibrium.

A Pain of Our Choosing by @lqtraintracks (E, 6k)

It’s 8th year and everyone’s still a bit messed up. Harry and Draco fall into being messed up together.

Glowing by @cavendishbutterfly (T, 10k)

Harry's lived alone and vampiric in his cottage for ages, until a long-lived Draco Malfoy suddenly shows up to answer an advertisement Harry had practically forgotten he'd put in the Prophet. Cue soft blood drinking, quiet nights of reading and crocheting, and Harry thinking that maybe--just maybe--he might not be so alone anymore.

Tidings of Comfort by @blamebrampton (G, 10k)

When a man is tired of London, he is tired of life. Luckily for Draco Malfoy, London has places where the tired can rest and recover.

Nice Things by aideomai (M, 22k)

The first thing that happened was Theodore Nott came back from France.

The Last of What the World Left You by @xanthippe74 (T, 25k)

If the wizarding world won’t give Draco a second chance, he has a plan to survive: live in his Animagus form, a carrion crow, in the Forbidden Forest. Not only does Harry Potter come along and ruin it, he’s radiating a strange aura of power. With nowhere to go and a Life-Debt to his mother that Potter insists on repaying, Draco puts himself into the hands of the reclusive Boy Who Lived. Will the bleak corner of Yorkshire where Potter makes his home be another dead end or an unexpected refuge?

Strange Bedfellows by orphan_account, ravenclawsquill (E, 30k)

When Harry encounters a frail and fidgety Draco Malfoy at the Ministry, he just knows something is wrong and he’s determined to get to the bottom of it.

Holly and Hawthorn, Thistle and Thyme by bryoneybrynn (T, 31k)

After the war, Harry can’t shake the feeling that something is very wrong with him and he has a terrible feeling he knows what that “something” might be. He has a terrible feeling Malfoy might know, too.

Open For Repairs by @drarrytrash (M, 35k)

After the war, Draco works at a tv repair shop and Harry breaks things.

Like Lightning at Your Fingertips by potterwatch (T, 43k)

The problem with living with another insomniac is, eventually, they find out you’re one, too. When Harry and Draco return for their eighth year, they think they’ll see very little of each other. Then McGonagall assigns them to room together. And the castle starts breaking. And there’s that thing with Potter’s magic.

A Room Up There (And You In It) by @the-starryknight (T, 59k)

When Preservationist Draco Malfoy was assigned to work on Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place, he was excited to delve into the gorgeous Black family antiques. His excitement quickly ended when something in the House decided it did not like his presence one bit. Featuring a grumpy antiques lover who most certainly did not sign up for this, encounters with a vengeful apparition, and a healthy application of Christmas spirit.

Running on Air by eleventy7 (T, 75k)

Draco Malfoy has been missing for three years. Harry is assigned the cold case and finds himself slowly falling in love with the memories he collects.

Little Deaths and How to Avoid Them (or Draco Malfoy's Guide to Stop Dying and Start Living Instead) by nerakrose, dustmouth (T, 96k)

Malfoy is way too interested in coroner reports for somebody who's definitely not looking for ways to die, Harry wants to be friends with him, and Ginny wants to break up with Harry.

Way Down We Go by @xiaq (T, 109k)

In which Harry and Draco both run away from their pasts and conveniently choose to hide in the same tiny American town. It's super.

A Sword Laid Aside by @korlaena (E, 128k)

When Draco’s cover is blown during a deep undercover operation and the Ministry is compromised, Ron takes Draco to the only safe place he can think of—Potter. Hiding out with a taciturn Harry Potter, who has been missing from the Wizarding World for almost two decades after a shocking fall from grace, is nothing like Draco thought it would be.

In The Dark by @bixgirl1 (E, WIP)

In the aftermath of an apocalypse, Harry receives an order to find and bring Draco Malfoy nearly a thousand miles, to the tenuous safety of Hogwarts. But more than distance separates them from their goal. The world has fallen, and death is hungry.

[f4iry-bell]

AND THEY WERE BOTH BOYS

pairing: jameson hawthorne x rohan

summary: a joke

tagging: @clarissaweasley-10 @emelia07 @whatsamongus @cassie6392

a/n: 🫶🫶

masterlist

Rohan doesn't like interacting with irrelevant people, or with people he is interested in during irrelevant times. Interacting with people during dinner in the grandest game was one of those irrelevant moments of his, especially since he has to put up with Jameson Hawthorne. He had this feeling—he couldn't put the right word to it— everytime Jameson said something.

“Could you pass me the bottle of water?” Jameson asked in a British accent to Rohan.

Rohan stabbed his fork on the plate. “You do realise that you're half British too, right?”

“I am a proud American.”

“Can’t tell.” Rohan said sarcastically.

“Kant tell.” Jameson mimicked Rohan’s accent.

“Can you stop? You know what? I'm done with dinner. Thank you.”

Later, Jameson followed him. Jameson found Rohan standing in the hallway looking at a portrait of two dogs playing.

“Are you familiar with this portrait, Rohan?”

Rohan sighed as he saw him approached, sighed at his sight. Because he was just so— no!

“No.”

“They are both boys.”

Rohan turned to Jameson. “What?”

“It's not a sin.”

“It literally is…” Rohan pointed.

“Right, I meant. Love, truth, they aren't sins.” Jameson stepped closer to him.

“What are you talking about, Hawthorne?”

“Truth…our truth. We shouldn't repress what we have Rohan.” He said, trying to close the distance between them.

“Are you mad?”

“I see the way you look at me.”

Rohan’s breath hitched. “What of Avery?”

“Who?”

“Avery…The heiress? Your girlfriend.”

“I will love you regardless of your schizophrenia. Because there is no heiress or a girlfriend named Avery.”

“What?” Rohan was flabbergasted.

“It is probably a Mandela effect.” then he adds “don't make me think I kissed you in my head tomorrow.”

Then he pulled Rohan into a passionate kiss.

[sunvmars]

citrus | s.r. [4]

pairing: steve rogers x fem/afab reader

↞ previous | next ↠

word count: 2.8k

warnings: none i can think of

summary: steve explains himself

a/n: guys i literally spent two days writing this and couldn’t manage to stretch it to 3,000 words :,) this is not the end of the series contrary to how the end of the fic sounds. also my birthday was on tuesday so i apologize for the late update!

You sigh deeply, not knowing what to expect.

"Alright, I'm listening."

You walk over and sit on the edge of your bed. He follows to stand in front of you, awaiting directions on where to sit. All you give is a shrug and pat the spot next to you on the bed.

"I don't bite," you joke with a smirk.

He returns your smirk with one of his own, "Not typically," he says.

Your heart pounds with anticipation when he sits next to you. Anxiety seeps off of him and threatens to crawl into you.

"So, what's going on?" you question.

Steve takes a deep breath in and then out, trying to find the right words to start with. He knows there aren't any right words to start with in this situation, but he searches his brain for them anyways. He also knows that you probably won't wanna be around him, or with him, again after he tells you what he's been keeping from you. So, he seizes the opportunity to fully take you in: soft and bedridden hair, pajamas that hug your figure, eyes illuminated by the dim lights.

"It's about your past, y/n. And, before I start, I need you to understand that I didn't want to keep this from you but I thought it was the right thing to do," he states, his voice low and steady like he's walking on eggshells.

Your heart skips a beat at his words. Elaine Caldwell, the woman who raised you, wasn't your real mother and you've always know that. She never kept it a secret from you so you were bound to find out, but she wasn't open about your real parents either. She'd always say that she would tell you everything you wanted to know someday when you were ready. Elaine passed only a few months after you turned 18 and left you with all of her belongings, but nothing she owned told you anything about your parents. You have looked for any trace of your parents and family for years, but you always turn up with nothing.

"Do you know something…?"

"I know everything," he admits.

You listen in silence as he begins to tell you everything he knows about your parents, Genesis, and Zepher Hawthorne. You listen in stunned silence as he tells you about how you're the only trace your parents left behind and about how strong you truly are. It's like something out of a movie, you struggle to process everything he's telling you. And when he's done explaining, all you feel is a mixture of confusion, irritation, and fear swirling within you.

"Why now, Steven?" you question with a shaky voice. "Why are you telling me now? Why didn't you tell me before?"

His shoulders slump slightly when his gaze meets yours. He's more than aware that his decision to keep all of that from you hurt you more than he could know. The fact that you're hurt and he's the one that caused it makes him feel unimaginably guilty and regretful. He takes a moment to gather his thoughts before responding to you.

"I should've told you earlier, I know, and I'm sorry for keeping it from you. I thought I was protecting you," he admits, his voice filled with remorse. "It's stupid, but I had your best interest in mind, y/n. The whole reason I'm telling you this tonight is because Hawthorne doesn't just suspect you're alive, he knows it now, and he's getting closer to finding you. I wanted to find him before I told you any of this but now the circumstances have changed."

"Hawthorne knows about me?"

"Yes, he does. I got a letter from him two days ago stating that he knows who you are. He's not only aware of your existence, but I think he also knows that you've been with me. And that's exactly what I was afraid of."

"What does he want?" you ask.

Steve's jaw tightens as he tries to choose his words carefully. He doesn't want you to worry too much- that can't be good for you or the baby. Yet, he refuses to lie to you or sugarcoat anything again.

"I don't know for sure, not yet. However, given his history, he might see you as a threat, but it's more likely that he…he could have other motives."

You already know what 'other motives' he's referring to. Hydra isn't very secretive with how they operate; he'd use you as a weapon or an experiment. You find yourself becoming overwhelmed as you contemplate the danger you're in.

"Do you have a plan..?"

"We're working on it. I promise to keep you updated from here on out."

"Who's we?" you ask curiously with an eyebrow cocked up at him.

"Me and Buck," he mumbles.

"No. No, no. One, or both, of you are going to get hurt. We have to tell somebody else, I can't lose either of you-"

"Y/n, we're both going to be fine. We're going to be okay," Steve says, cutting off your rambling. "You're going to be fine," he adds,

"Hydra infiltrated SHIELD once and I won't risk the information getting into the wrong hands. Everything about you relates to your adoptive mother, and that's how it appears in the SHIELD database, so let's keep it that way for right now."

He's right, and you hate that more than anything.

"What about Bucky?" you ask with concern. "He's putting himself in danger to help us, we can't just let him face this alone."

His eyes reflect concern for Bucky just like yours do. "We've come up with a plan to minimize the risks for him and we're staying in close contact. Bucky's resourceful and calculated, plus he's got experience with Hydra. If I even suspect that he needs me then I'll go, but right now I have to be here for you."

"You left me, Steven. Now you decide you have to be here for me? Didn't seem like a top priority a few weeks ago. What changed?"

Steve winces at your words that feel like a punch to the gut. He hates that he hurt you at all and he especially hates that you think he wanted to. He knows he deserves every bit of your anger and frustration, but it doesn't make hearing it any easier. He sighs deeply as he reaches out to gently take your hand. You hesitantly allow him to hold your hand in his.

"I can't take back the pain I caused you, no matter how badly I want to. But I can promise to never keep anything from you again, no matter how difficult or dangerous the truth may be."

You look into his crystal blue eyes and see the sincerity in them. You see more than the truth in him though. Despite the mistakes he's made, you see the man you fell in love with who only wants to protect you. Guilt pangs in your chest at how harsh you'd been, although he likely deserved it.

"I'm sorry, I appreciate your honesty. I'm just confused and angry and…I don't think there's an emotion I haven't felt since we sat down, actually."

"I understand. It's a lot to take in, yeah?"

"There's just one thing I still don't understand," you say before looking over at him.

"And that is?"

"If I've got all these mental abilities, why can't I use them?"

"They could be dormant or suppressed," Steve replies. "It's not entirely uncommon for superhuman abilities to stay hidden until certain conditions are met or an event triggers them."

"I don't want you to try to use your abilities until we know more about them," he adds, "Bruce can probably run some tests for us."

"But what if we run out of time by then? What if he finds me? If he's still with Hydra, we have a better chance of taking them down if I know how to use whatever abilities I have."

"We have time, y/n," he reassures you gently, "Besides, you're in a tower full of superhumans and skilled agents. You're as safe as you can be here."

"I can't just sit here and wait for something to happen, Steve… If there's a chance that I can use these powers to protect us then I need to try."

Steve sighs when he sees nothing but pure determination in your eyes. Being as stubborn and insistent as you can be frustrates him sometimes, but he's well aware that he loves that about you. You're a fighter- you always have been and he only hopes that you always will be.

"Okay," he concedes. "We'll talk to Bruce tomorrow then, hm? We'll see if there's a safe way to test and develop your abilities. But you have to promise me you'll be careful and, if anything goes wrong, it's under my discretion whether or not you fight."

"I don't need you to be my damn father, Steven," you grumble, irritation laced in your voice.

He chuckles at your statement, earning an eye roll from you. "Believe me, I know you don't. But you mean everything to me, honey, and I can't stand the thought of anything happening to you or our baby."

"The baby," you whisper to yourself.

Your hand instinctively moves to your slightly bloated belly as you absorb the situation at hand. The baby growing inside of you, your unborn child, is at risk because of the secrets of your past. You begin to feel selfish for hardly thinking of the baby before you thought about yourself. A frown plants itself onto your lips and it makes Steve frown too. Then, when his words finally sink in, you repeat them almost like a question.

"Our baby…?"

A familiar lump forms in his throat. He finds himself unable to come up with a response, thinking he'd said something wrong. All he can muster up is a, "Yeah, our baby."

"You don't have to say that just to make me feel better, it's only going to make things worse."

"I never didn't want this baby, just like I never didn't want you. I didn't mean what I said earlier. I want both of you forever and I've never wanted anything more," he reassures you, trying his best to offer up a small smile.

"Are…are you sure? You can't take it back again."

"Wouldn't dream of it, I've never been more sure of anything else."

"Steve," you mumble. "I just wish that you had trusted me enough to tell me about this sooner."

"I should have. I should have trusted you with this from the start and I'm sorry for not doing so, but I will fix this, y/n. I'm going to make this right."

You don't respond, unable to find the words to say. He takes that as his cue to say something he probably shouldn't.

"I don't expect you to believe me, but I will do whatever it takes to make this right. And however long it takes for you to forgive me, I'll wait for you, even if that time never comes. You can hate me forever but I will never stop loving you; you're it for me, baby."

He doesn't mean to say it, but there it is. "Baby." Who knew someone could make a word sound so good? It could never sound so good rolling off of someone else's tongue and you hate that. You want to hate him, you want to hit him and fight with him for lying to you, but you can't. You're pissed with him yet all you can find yourself wanting is to be in his arms again- to be his baby again.

"Y/n? Did I say something wrong?"

You're not sure if it's the hormones, his willingness to protect you and the baby, or just you but something urges you to lay your head onto his chest- so you do that. Your head rests on his warm chest and your arms snake under his arms to wrap around his waist. You'd never fully grasped how much you missed the sound of his heartbeat until now. A heartbeat: It's something so simple but it makes your heart feel complete again, like both of your hearts are back in sync as they should be.

Steve's mind blanks and his body stiffens at your sudden movement. At first, he thinks he's simply daydreaming, but then he feels your grip tighten on his shirt. Your body shakes slightly and, even though you're silent, he knows you're crying. You're crying for the second time in twenty-four hours and it's his fault. He slowly, cautiously wraps his arms around you to pull you closer to him.

He lets you cry into him, not saying anything as you do. Sometimes words can't heal wounds and he knows that. He knows he's hurt you, but he's ready and willing to give you all the time and space you want to process everything.

Minutes pass in silence until your tears subside. You pull back slightly from Steve's chest, sniffling as you wipe away your tears. Your eyes make their way up to meet his.

"I just… I wanted to hear your heart again," you confess softly.

"I'm here, and I always will be. I'm so sorry for ever leaving you, y/n."

His eyes soften and he reaches up to cup your cheek. He smiles softly, wiping a stray tear from under your eye with his thumb. You find solace in his touch. You're so, so angry and confused but it's as though the tenderness in his gaze has the power to soothe your ache. In this very moment, it's easier to give in and let him care for you than to fight yourself on it. Honestly, you're not sure how much fight you have left for the day. So, you let out a shaky sigh and then lean into his touch for a moment.

"I know you're sorry, Steve," you reply softly. "And I want to believe you, I really do, but it's going to take time for me to fully trust you again."

"I know, and I'll give you all the time you need. I just want you to know that I'm here now, forever."

"I'm… I'm so angry with you still, and it'll take a while to get over that, but I don't think I have the energy to be angry anymore tonight."

"What do you need from me, honey?"

"Just wanna be us again for tonight," you admit, vulnerability laced in your voice.

"We can do that."

For now, the weight of the truth lingers in the air and so does the pain it's caused. You offer him a faint smile and he returns it with that perfect one of his own. From the way his heart flutters when he looks at you, he can't believe he went without you for so long. His eyes flicker from your lips to your eyes and back again. Then he finds himself wanting needing to kiss you.

"Y/n," he whispers gently, almost so gentle that it's inaudible.

His thumb continues to trace along your cheek. It's a tender caress that says everything he can't put into words. You can feel your heart pounding hard in your chest under the intensity of his gaze. The ache in your heart, the sudden need for his presence, it all becomes overwhelmingly clear.

"I don't want to rush things, but…"

He doesn't have to finish for you to know what he's going to say because you already know. You feel it too- that magnetic pull between you. Without hesitation, you lean in, closing the remaining distance between both of you. The kiss is short and sweet. It's soft and filled with a yearning that has been building up for weeks. It's a kiss that carries the weight of the words neither of you could find it in you to say. It carries the promise that you're still here and that he's willing to fight for you and the baby.

Steve rests his forehead against yours when your lips part. His eyes lock onto yours and he traces your jaw with his thumb. He knows that this doesn't mean things will instantly go back to how they were before, but this moment is one he appreciates anyways.

"Y/n," he coos softly, "I'll spend every day of my life making it up to you if I have to. I'll prove to you that I'll never let you down again."

You offer him another small and weary smile. It's a start, a tiny step towards rebuilding what once was. Neither of you has all the answers or knows what the future holds, but for now you have each other. And that's more than enough.

taglist!

@oh-thats-cute @vicmc624 @blackhawkfanatic @tooruen

@athenabarnes @gh0stgurl @missing-loki @elizacusi-blog

@terry2227 @imyourbratzdoll @starksbabie @diannana

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