#defender strange x oc

[sobeautifullyobsessed]

Share your newest OC and a few facts!

I'm excited to share about this OC, so thank you so much for the Ask @arrthurpendragon!

Contessa 'Tess' O'Neill

fandom: Marvel Cinematic Universe/Doctor Strange

face claim: Liv Tyler

I originally created Tess as an RP character. Since then, she appeared in my fic, 'It's Not the Years Honey - It's the Mileage', a Doctor Strange one-shot. And I'm currently working on a Defender Strange one-shot where she'll make her second appearance.

mid-thirties, Bachelors Degree in Literature, published two minor poetry collections, worked as a freelance copy writer pre Blip

speaks fluent Italian, gift of her maternal grandmother who lived with her family

ended up in Kathmandu, Nepal, after months traveling Europe & Asia; her trip had been motivated by the death of her flight instructor husband on the day of Blip; taking such a trip had been on their bucket list

however, Tess had never planned to return to the United States

trigger warning below the cut...

trigger warning: attempted suicide stemming from depression; survived due to the timely intercession by a Nepalese street vendor who brought her to Kamar-Taj for medical treatment

during her recuperation, Tess found her spirit healed as well, witnessing the philosophy, tranquility, and unselfish purpose of the residents of Kamar-Taj

found her own new purpose as an initiate of the Mystic Arts, eventally becoming a Healer

[darkkitty1208]

Sooo. I wrote a thing for @crowleys-creations OC Reggie, who is an absolute sweetheart that I LOVE. I'm referring to both of them. They are wonderful people.

I can't explain to you how much I love Reggie. He is our little guy. I want to show him off.

Reggie is Stephen's partner in Crow's universe. She shared a scenario she thought of of them and I went 'I want to write it' and she consented. So here it is!!!

All dialogue and scenario is made by Crow. Narration and otherwise is my writing :D <3

If you want to know more about Reggie or Crow's strangesona, here is a post of intro sheets for their OCs! They are amazing.

Home

Summary: Reggie visits Stephen's chilhood home, meeting his mother for the first time.

Tags: Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, Past Trauma, Domesticity, Idiots in Love, Fluff

Meeting Stephen's mother for the first time is a nerve-wracking experience.

Don't get him wrong, Reggie absolutely adores Stephen's mother. She seems like a lovely woman; and he feels a sense of respect for what he knows she and Stephen has gone through. Most of all, he's grateful of her to have brought Stephen to this world.

He's been keeping himself composed all day, trying to keep the jitters at bay. He's mostly concerned for Stephen, though--checking in with him constantly to see if he's alright, reassuring him with quiet smiles and small touches that he's here, he's always here, and that Stephen isn't alone. He knows what Stephen's gone through. Looking at his childhood home must put a toll on him emotionally.

The evening they spent together had been one of the loveliest times he's had in his life. Laughing at Stephen's childhood photos (there was a particular one where little Stephen was grinning teethily at the camera, a bandaid on his nose where Beverly explained he had gotten after he fell off a bike, and another where he was a teenager, tilting a cowboy hat in such an endearingly Stephen way that Reggie couldn't help but make fun of him for it), looking at Stephen's old room and his old things, visiting the childhood playground Stephen had played in. Everything in his house had a story. Every room, every corner, every doodle or sticker on the wall.

It ignites some sort of longing in him. He wishes he could tell the same stories, recall the same memories, laugh and joke about little stupid things he had done as a child. He couldn't come up with one.

Reggie wants this. He wants this domesticity, this warmth. He wants to feel how family is supposed to be like.

And it's here, as Beverly and him stand in the humble kitchen of their home, Stephen tending to some chores outside, that he feels a small spark of it. Like an old feeling, or a sense of nostalgia, even if he's never been here before. There is familiarity in the way Beverly passes him a plate, the sound of sizzling from the pan, the quiet chatter. He feels like he belongs here.

"Has Stephen met your parents yet?" Beverly asks in between flipping the steak on the pan. Reggie watches as the meat sizzles, turning an appetising brown. "Maybe we can have a big family dinner, all get to know each other." She smiles at that. It looks a little like Stephen's.

Reggie is a little taken aback by the question and the offer that follows. He tries not to let it show, but freezes involuntarily nonetheless. He quickly composes himself with a smile.

"Erm, no. My parents passed when I was young," he says simply. Beverly's eyes widen by a fraction.

"Oh honey, I'm so sorry," she says, sounding guilty. "I didn't think-- Stephen didn't say--"

Reggie is quick to reassure. "No, no, it's fine, really, I don't mind," he says, waving it off gently. His smile turns small, genuine, and there's some sadness in it he couldn't help let slip. "I like talking about them. It keeps them alive."

Beverly gives him an unexplainably motherly smile at that. Reggie appreciates it.

She asks questions, then; what do you remember about them? What were they like? Reggie answers all of them happily, recalling what he can. There's something, though, deep in his chest. Pulling, tugging at his emotions. He buries it in favour of keeping their light conversation going.

-

Stephen's bed has soft covers on them. Reggie is sitting at the edge of it, observing, looking around. His room is small, bookshelves filled to the brim with various books, a simple studying desk at the corner. He has a night lamp that glows a gentle, warm, light, which Reggie smiles at knowing Stephen must've been scared of the dark as a child.

He sighs. He's waiting for Stephen now, getting ready for bed in the bathroom. He hears him brushing his teeth, hears the running water, hears the quiet humming. It's comforting. It feels like home.

The longing resurfaces again, then. It's been there in his chest the whole day. It's welling up inside him now, gripping his chest. He feels it seizing up his throat, feels a growing sting in his eyes. Blinking it away doesn't help, so he focuses on the lines of his hands instead, hoping it would distract him.

He doesn't hear the door click, or Stephen stepping out. He does notice when the bed dips as Stephen's weight settles beside him.

"Hey," Stephen says, looking concerned. Reggie can't help but admire his eyes. "You okay?"

Reggie smiles. It's a pained one, if he must admit. He hopes it doesn't look so.

"Yeah," he says, a little hoarse. He clears his throat. "Yeah, just erm."

Stephen waits as he arranges his words. Reggie feels grateful for that.

"Your mother mentioned having dinner with my parents," he explains, "And I just... remembered that I won't have this. The whole introducing the boyfriend, embarrassing childhood photos, funny stories."

The words feel difficult to get out. But he tries.

"I won't get to have that." That's where he chokes up. He can't help it. Not after keeping it in the entire day. He feels Stephen lay a comforting hand on his back, moving back and forth reassuringly. "Every time I think they've missed everything they could, something happens that makes me wish they could be there." He wipes a rebellious tear that slips down his cheek.

He's been trying to stay strong the entire day. He really has.

Stephen turns to embrace him, wrapping him securely with his arms. It makes him feel a little guilty, when he's meant to be here for Stephen. But he lets him hold Reggie. He lets him stroke his hair. He lets him whisper little nothings in his ear.

He lets his tears flow freely. His gates are down now. And this is Stephen, he doesn't need to hold back. He can be vulnerable. He can trust Stephen.

"When I was a kid I just missed them," he remembers, "then when I was older I realised they didn't get to teach me to ride a bike, or drive or see me graduate or get my first job, but then I figured it was over. They missed all the big milestones but then, I get a medal, then I get promoted, I get my garage up and running, I meet you--" He sobs. "And it just never stops. every big moment in my life is also one of the saddest moments and when your mother asked me about dinner it just brought it all up again, it's not her fault it's just..."

He's spiralling. He cries into Stephen's shoulder. He cries until his chest hurts. Stephen is holding him still, and it feels so, so good to be like this. To know that Stephen loves him. To know that somebody loves him, cares for him, is there for him.

"Shh," Stephen shushes him. "I know, it's okay," He kisses the top of his head, gentle and soft and loving. "I know it's not the same, but I think like that with my father sometimes," he says, "If he had been loving--what we could've had, or every time I have one of those moments, I remember that he isn't there and... that Donna doesn't get to have those."

Stephen holds him tighter. Reggie burrows further, smelling the bit of skin peeking out of Stephen's shirt's collar. It smells like soap and old books and tea and something so utterly Stephen.

God, they're such a mess. Reggie can't help but chuckle a little. Stephen hums back his own bit of laughter.

"We're utter messes, huh?"

"Heh, yeah," Stephen says, and the hand rubbing his back pauses. The weight feels warm, going through the fabric separating it from his skin. "But we're each other's messes."

Reggie's sure Stephen can feel the smile he makes on his skin.

"Always?" he asks.

"Always."

[strangedreamings]

First scene that comes to mind?

From 'You Can Count on Me' - Defender Stephen finally melting and kissing Emilia and having them both reveal their true feelings for one another. OH.MY.HEART.❣️💖😍

The Countess and her Defender series

Aww, thank you! I'm particularly proud of that scene.

[dreaminonao3]

Stephen x Emilia - switching roles of big & little spoon

Little Spoon (AO3)

Stephen had just enough energy left to use his sling-ring to return to the Sanctum Sanctorum before collapsing on the nearest horizontal surface, which was the sitting room settee. The latest battle to save Earth from an interdimensional threat had taken all of his strength and all he wanted was to be unconscious.

“Stephen?” His wife’s voice was almost enough to stir him. “Are you injured?” Emilia lightly touched his shoulder and he let out a small groan.

“Not injured, promise,” he muttered, the sound half-muffled from his face pressing against the cushion. “Just let me stay here until the next Ice Age.”

“You overtaxed yourself, again.” The disapproval in her voice was crystal clear. “I’ve told you countless times not to save the dimension alone.”

“I know,” he agreed quietly. “It couldn’t be helped, I swear.” Needing to see her properly was enough to motivate him to sit up.

As soon as he did, she sat beside him and assessed him, the pale blue mandala hovering in front of her hand staying the same brightness as she waved her hand over his body, only glowing brighter when she reached his head. “You have a severe tension headache,” she said as the mandala disappeared.

“That’s putting it mildly,” he muttered then he met her concerned eyes and he gave her a piteous expression. “Put me to bed, sweetheart?”

Emilia rolled her eyes fondly. “Let’s get you hydrated and fed first. Also, you could use a bath.”

Stephen chuckled tiredly. “Yeah, I stink, I know. I’ll take a shower while you make us something?”

“If you think you can stay on your feet long enough, sure.”

“We’ll find out.” He leaned to kiss her cheek then he slowly got to his feet, feeling every one of his forty-eight years and more besides, then he made his way to their chambers while she went to the kitchen.

One restorative shower later, Stephen went to the kitchen wearing nothing but his black-and-red silk robe, his long hair loose down his back as it dried. He found Emilia frying eggs on the stove and he wrapped his arms around her middle from behind.

She chuckled. “I take it you’re feeling better.”

“Much but I still need food and rest.”

“Of course. Go sit down and let me take care of you.”

“Always,” he murmured before kissing her neck and letting her go. He sat down at the kitchen table and noticed there was already a pot of tea made, so he helped himself to a cup. “I don’t know what I’d do without my live-in healer.”

“Suffer in, well, not exactly silence, but sarcastic complaints to Wong, from what he tells me,” she said, amused, as she brought over two plates of eggs, sausage, and hashbrowns.

Stephen chuckled as he started on his food. “What time is it, anyway? I haven’t even glanced at a clock.”

“Almost noon.”

“So, lunch for you, breakfast for me.”

“Wouldn’t be the first time.”

“Or the last. Did we have any plans for the day?”

“Wong wants to talk to you about the latest students but I told him it could wait till tomorrow.”

“Thank you, sweetheart.” He ate ravenously while he listened to Emilia talk about research she was doing on new healing spells. Once again, he was awed that such an intelligent and caring woman chose to love him of all people.

When they were done eating, they went to their chambers. Stephen discarded his robe and climbed into bed nude, not out of the ordinary for him. He had to admit feeling some disappointment when Emilia changed into a pale green cotton nightgown before joining him.

She rolled her eyes fondly. “We’re not doing anything until you have your energy back, so don’t give me that pout, Stephen, even if you do have the lips for it.”

He chuckled before kissing her softly. “You know me well, sweetheart.” He was about to lay on his side facing her when she stopped him.

“I want to do something different – this time, you’re the little spoon.”

Stephen raised an eyebrow. “Little spoon?”

“Yes – I want to hold you instead of you holding me. I think we both could use it.”

He had to admit the thought was appealing and he smiled at her. “Alright, Em. Far be it from me to go against my wife’s wishes.”

He laid down on his other side, his back to her. The mattress dipped as she laid down behind him then she wrapped her arm around his waist and pressed her body against his back. It was a different experience for him but it did feel good, like she would protect him from anything that would disturb his rest.

“I love you, Em,” he murmured.

“And I love you, Stephen,” she murmured against his neck. “Sleep well.”

He fell asleep to thoughts of her and how lucky he was.

[writeriguess]

Stolen Jacket // Sylus x fem!reader

author's note: I’ve written quite a few fics while I was away, and I’ll be publishing them before diving into any new requests. They’re currently written with an OC that’s essentially a self-insert, so I’ll need to convert them into reader inserts first. Honestly, I never thought I’d share them because of the whole plagiarism mess, but I’ve decided to let them see the light of day after all.

Sylus grumbled under his breath as he tightened the final bolt on the engine panel, his red eyes narrowing in concentration. The ship’s maintenance had taken longer than expected, and his nerves were starting to fray. He ran a gloved hand through his messy silver hair, which always seemed to defy gravity no matter how many times he tried to smooth it down. With a sigh, he leaned back on his heels, satisfied that the systems were finally stable.

“Done,” he muttered to no one in particular, shutting the panel with a solid thud.

The ship was unusually quiet. Normally, he could hear you somewhere nearby—talking to the AI, humming softly to yourself, or just bustling about. But now, the silence felt strange. It made his instincts prick, though not out of fear. No, this was something else entirely—curiosity, maybe. Or anticipation.

Standing up and dusting his hands off, Sylus decided to look for you. It wasn’t a big ship; you couldn’t have gone far. He stalked through the corridors with easy strides, his boots echoing faintly against the metal floors. He checked the kitchen first, then the cockpit, but you were nowhere to be found.

When he finally reached the crew quarters, Sylus stopped in his tracks, his red eyes narrowing slightly at the sight before him.

You were standing near his bunk, your back turned to him as you fidgeted with the hem of his jacket—the one he usually wore for missions. It was unmistakably his, the black leather adorned with silver accents and scuffed edges from countless scrapes and close calls. The jacket was too big on you, the sleeves hanging past your hands, the material loose enough to make it look like you were drowning in it.

It wasn’t just the jacket, either. You’d clearly raided his stash, pulling on one of his shirts beneath it. The sight struck him like a punch to the chest, and for a moment, Sylus just stood there, staring.

Something about it felt intimate. His clothes, which had always been a part of his identity, now looked completely different on you. And the fact that you were wearing them so casually, completely unaware of how much it affected him…

Sylus leaned against the doorframe, crossing his arms over his chest with an almost lazy smirk. “Well, well,” he drawled, his deep voice slicing through the quiet like a blade. “Is this what you’ve been up to?”

You turned around quickly, startled by his voice, though you tried to recover by flashing him a sheepish smile. “Oh. Uh, I didn’t think you’d be done so soon.”

“Clearly,” he said, his smirk widening as he straightened and walked toward you. His boots thudded softly against the floor, and his crimson eyes glinted with a mischievous light. “And here I thought you hated how this jacket smelled like engine grease and sweat.”

“I never said that!” you protested, clutching the front of the jacket as if to defend yourself.

“No?” He stopped a few feet away from you, tilting his head. His silver hair was as messy as ever, strands falling across his forehead in a way that should’ve looked unkempt but somehow made him even more infuriatingly attractive.

“I just thought…” You hesitated, suddenly self-conscious under his intense gaze. “It was cold, and your jacket was right there, so…”

“Cold, huh?” Sylus’s voice dipped lower, the smirk on his lips softening into something more dangerous. “And the shirt? That part of your ‘cold’ excuse too?”

You opened your mouth to respond but quickly snapped it shut, unsure how to explain yourself without making it worse.

Sylus chuckled, stepping closer until there was barely any space left between you. His gloved fingers reached out to brush against the sleeve of the jacket, his touch light but deliberate. “You don’t have to explain,” he said, his voice dropping to a near whisper. “I get it.”

You blinked, caught off guard by his sudden shift in tone. “You… do?”

“Mm.” His crimson gaze swept over you again, lingering on the way the jacket hung on your frame. “Seeing you like this… it’s sexy as hell.”

Your breath hitched, heat rushing to your face at his bluntness. “It’s just a jacket,” you muttered, looking anywhere but at him.

“Not just a jacket,” Sylus countered, his smirk returning as he leaned closer, his voice low and teasing. “It’s my jacket. My clothes. And you’re wearing them like you own the place.”

Your heart pounded in your chest, his proximity making it impossible to think straight. “If it bothers you, I can take it off—”

“Don’t,” Sylus interrupted, his voice firm as his hand moved to the front of the jacket. His fingers brushed against yours, and his touch sent a shiver down your spine. “I like it.”

The admission was quiet but heavy, his crimson eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that made your knees weak. He tugged lightly on the collar of the jacket, his smirk softening into something warmer, almost tender.

“You’re full of surprises, you know that?” he murmured, his thumb brushing against the fabric. “Just when I think I’ve got you figured out, you go and do something like this.”

“It’s not that big of a deal,” you said, though your voice lacked conviction.

Sylus chuckled, the sound low and warm as he shook his head. “It is to me.”

For a moment, neither of you spoke, the weight of his words hanging between you. Then, with a smirk that was equal parts playful and possessive, Sylus leaned in closer, his breath ghosting against your ear.

“You might want to get used to this,” he said, his voice a low rumble that sent a thrill down your spine. “Because I’m not letting you give that jacket back anytime soon.”

[myladysapphire]

My Lady Strong (VII)

Aemond had always been protective of his neice, obssessed even, insiting on keeping her sheltered, and purley his, he never let her stray far and following the incident at Driftmark, Aemma was rarley without Aemond as her shadow. How will the kind, sheltered girl fair in the dance of dragons?

word count: 3,051

CW: MDI 18+, toxic relationship, manipulation, mommy issues, bullying, co-dependancy issues, not beta read.

Fem!oc x dark!Aemond Targeryen

Masterlist | series masterlist | previous part | next part

disclamer:  i do not own any of claim any of the A song of ice and  fire characters, all rights belong to GRR MARTIN, all characters are his except for my Original characters

Her mother sat across form her, staring awkwardly. She seemed as nervous as Aemma did. It was strange thing, her mother had once been her favourite person, other than Aemond that is. They had been so close, and now she stared at her, she couldn’t help but wonder what she had done wrong, how she had screwed up and ruined their relationship.

But sweet Aemma could only think of what Aemond had said, for her it was the most reasonable explanation, seeing as her mother had just left her, she had not argued much about her retuning to the red keep instead of Dragonstone. Perhaps she had felt betrayed, hurt that she perhaps defended Aemond before Luke. But why would she? Until today she had very little happy memories of her brothers. Whereas with Aemond, she had all of her happiest memories with him, and he had so swiftly pushed the negative ones from her mind, so swiftly she had started to think she had made it all up.

And now as her mother stared at her, with them both having no words to say to the other and using her brothers as shields so much so that she found she could enjoy her brother’s company.

“You know we used to be so jealous of you, you know” Luke had said absentmindedly, as they ate their lunch. Her mother had said nothing, only nervously pulling at her fingers, as if trying to figure something out.

“Really?” she asked, “I had always thought you hated me.”

“No!” Jace said abruptly, “no we didn’t, we envied you, you were always mother’s favourite. Its why we did all of those things, we wanted her to hate you and love us” he looked down ashamed, “we are sorry Aemma,” they had apologised repeatedly, begging for her forgiveness, and for the first time, she actually considered forgiving them entirely , perhaps forgiving them would give her mother a reason to talk to her, to acknowledge her.

“I know, and it is in the past now.” she said before she turned and looked to her mother, she took a deep breath before slowly trying to start a conversation with her, “I hear you are pregnant again.”

`Her mother nodded, a shy smile on her face “yes, dōna riña, I had mentioned it in one of the letters I sent you.”

Letters? That had confused her, and from the way her head shot up at the words, showing her mother just how much the word confused her “Letters? I never received any letters.” She shook her head, “the only one I received was the one sent last week, from Jace and Luke.”

“What are you talking about, dōna riña? I- “

Aemond entered then, cutting her mother off, she had thought it was almost as if he had sensed her distress, though in truth he had been listening on the other side of the door. 

The room filled with silence, and Luke shrunk in his seat. Aemma however shot up in hers. “Aemond? Have you come to join us?” She asked eagerly.

He smiled; happy she was eager for his company. “As much as I would…. enjoy it, I am not, dearest, I have come to escort you, to your last dress fitting” he nodded, smiling as she quickly stood.

“of course,” she spoke, before turning to look at her brothers and mother, “I- sorry to cut this short but I must go” she then turned to look at her mother directly, “perhaps you could come with me?” she asked nervously.

Her mother seemed shocked at the invitation but not unpleased, “oh course…I’d love too” to though she could sense some unease at the response, as if her mother wanted to carry on with their previous conversation, a conversation Aemma had quickly lost interest in.

She cared not about the letters, she had sent hers and received nothing in return, why should she trust that her mother did in facts send any when she hadn’t gotten a single one but had gotten Jace and Lukes.

Aemond scowled behind her at the invitation, before quickly correcting it to a smile “how delightful” he mused, offering his arm to Aemma, as her mother stood to join them.

The walk had been an awkward one, not that Aemma had seemed to notice, as she rambled on about nothing in particular, seemingly eager to find this time to win her mother over once more.

“I had mentioned in the last le- “

Aemond cut her off, “my sweet, I why don’t you tell your mother of your gown?” He had calmly suggested, though Rhaenyra had been quick to notice his interruption both times the topics of letters where mentioned, but she couldn’t say anything, as Aemma quickly explained in great detail how her dress looked and changes they had made to it.

But Rhaenyra was starting to see the hold the greens had on you. Her sweet Aemma had always been so easy to convince and persuade. Gods Rhaenyra thought, she should have stopped whatever had gone on between Aemma and Aemond in their youth the second it started. And yet Aemond was the one thing that had always brought her joy, and it seemed the same now. She hated it. Hated how she should have forced her to Dragonstone. Forced her away from Aemond, away from the green’s clutches.

 As it was transparent why her daughter did not see her hundreds of letters, letters of longing or love, comfort. And she in return received non either.

She had sat and thought on this during the whole fitting, eager for them to be alone so that she could once more talk to her Aemma. To convince her she had sent letters, had not forgotten about her, stopped loving her.

But she also had realised something, the bond she had with her ladies, with Heleana and…Alicent.

Her ladies seemed so close to her, a comfort even. Something Aemma had never had before, friendship, sisterhood. And now she had it, especially with the lady Cassandra. Her bond with her reminded her of the old bond she had had with Alicent, and it did seem it did for Alicent also.

So much so that Alicent seemed to have taken Rhaenyra’s place as her mother. She was so soft with you, and kind. She had been always in truth. Especially once your friendship with Aemond became apparent.

Rhaenyra couldn’t help but think she had truly missed so much, she had thought her daughter a prisoner, trapped, alone. And perhaps she had been, until Alicent wrote to her of her daughters need for ladies. But know, especially once her day gown was back on and Aemond entered once more, it seemed her sweet Aemma was happy. A happiness the greens had deprived her from having known or experienced with her daughter.

“Rhaenyra” she heard a voice say, a voice she realised was half-brother Aemond’s.

“Yes?” She saw Aemma being led to a corner with her ladies.

“Is there something on your mind” it seemed he was teasing her, and he was.

He had never liked his half-sister; in fact, he despised her. And now he knew she realised, realised the letters were never sent, and burnt upon arrival, he had her in the palm of his hand.

Aemma believed him, she trusted him, where she doubted her mother.

Rhaenyra scowled “you know exactly what’s on my mind, tell me the truth of it’.

He smirked, “hmmm, I do not know what you mean”.

“Yes, you do” she insisted, “my own daughter thinks I abandoned her, I know those are not her own thoughts”.

‘Oh, please, I only told her what she was already thinking” he smirked.

“That cannot be true” she seethed.

 “you’re not going to fix your relationship by arguing with me now are you?” he smiled, and Aemma called him over, “whether you like it or not she is to be my wife and to my Aemma, I will be here for her, and you…you will be swiftly heading back to Dragonstone, leaving her yet again” he quickly left before she could reply, not that she had much to think on as she knew everything Aemond had said was true.

After the dress fitting, Aemond had walked stayed in her rooms as her everyone else left, he seemed to smile at how she had nearly begged him to stay.

“Do you believe my mothers words?” she had asked once they had all left.

“no” he answered swiftly, moving to sit beside her, “she is simply covering herself”.

“But she seemed so nervous and egar to- “

“She has simply realised her error in ever letting you leave her side” he mused, grabbing her chin softly, “she only cares for your brothers my sweet- “

“but my brothers said that the only reason they ever… that they were only mean to me in envy because mother cared for me so much” she cut him off, moving her head, only for Aemond’s grip on her chin to tighten, “that now they wish to be closer to me, that hey regret trying to make mother hate me-“

“that’s because they one, sweet.” Aemond interrupted, moving his other hand to caress her cheek, “don’t you see? There only goal was torment you and make your mother see you as a burden so they would become her favourite instead! And after Driftmark… think Aemma you had desired to be with me no matter what, to the pint your mother left you with me to go with your brothers, there plan worked sweet.” He hummed, moving his hand and tucking her hair behind her ear, “and now they have come back here, realised they you had noticed their swift disregard of you, realised how you favour me still and have tried every effort to win you back over.”

She looked down, nodding her head, “I suppose you are right, but still… all I have wanted was to marry you, and be close with my mother and brothers, I have never wished for a divide, perhaps if I forgive them they will stay and we will grow as close as they talk about.

He gripped her again, roughly, “don’t be stupid, that’s there plan they wish to woo you and have you side with them!”

“What do you mean?” she asked, close to tears, not at Aemodsn grip but at confusion, she didn’t know what to think, only knew that she had always believed Aemond, and hated how she had seemingly angered him.

“Do you wish to be my strong lady once again, hmmm” he mused, and she flinched.

She had hated those three words, the words that still haunted her and the words she had learnt were true.

 “I- no I don’t” she shook her head.

“If you side with them, you betray me and you betray the farce your mother has raised you under.” He declared, standing up, “I shall see you at dinner” he walked out swiftly after, leaving her to think, and her dreams to stew.

Viserys and demanded the whole family attended dinner before the wedding, there wedding was to be held to unite the family, and yet even at this dinner the family showed clear divisions, greens on one side, blacks on the other.

Her grandparents and stepsisters had arrived a few hours before said dinner, though Daemon was still noticeably at yet to arrive. Not that Aemma minded, she minded, she didn’t know him and her only impressions of him were negative ones.

Aemma was sat with Aemond to her left and Jace to her right. Though she mostly kept to herself, with Aemond glaring at her mother, not that she noticed, and Jace talking to Baela, who sat beside him.

She seemed to be in her own head, her thoughts circling non-stop, her dreams playing on repeat, changing at every second, at every glare or snide remark.

But when the speeches started to come, they changed even more, the blood shed fading and dragons stopped dancing.

“I would like to toast to my sister” she heard Jace say, as he smiled down at her “we may not have been close in our youth but I non the less wish you all the best in your marriage”.

She smiled, moving to stand for herself before starting her own speech. She was never one for talking so publicly, even before her family. “I too would like to toast in kind, I hope that this marriage will open up the chance too untie us once more and allow for our family to no longer be divided by the black water” she spoke nervously, but made eye contact with her grandsire, Corlys who gave her an encouraging smile.

The table clapped, happy at her words, and her grandsire, Viserys, even more pleased.

The speeches stopped for a moment, the table content, and her mind even happier.

Then the pig was brought out, and Lukes laugh sounded from the other end of the table.

She felt Aemond flinch beside her, he went to stand, shaking of the hands she gripped him with. And ignoring her pleas.

“I would like to share a toast also, a toast to my future wife” she looked at him, dread filling her, memories swiftly changed by Aemond’s words flooding back to her, and her dreams returning in kind.

The flash of her body falling.

Her sons head rolling.

“I have long awaited to marry her, and now on the morrow she shall be my strong lady wife” She flinched, her brothers scowled. “I pray our union with be as strong and fruitful, as my bride wishes”.

He gave her a look; a warning and she knew that no matter what side she went with her dreams of blood and dancing dragons would become true.

The dinner had ended swiftly after that, her mother claiming the babe had tired her, and swiftly pushed her brothers out the door, in an attempt to prevent whatever Jace’s bawling fists were planning.

Aemond had escorted her back to her chambers, there walk quiet, but the second they stepped over her room’s threshold, he slammed the door behind him.

“You made a decision now hmm? You claimed your want for peace and yet it brought you the opposite, so tell me Aemma” he sneered “is that what you still desire hmm, or do you wish to finally see that the only peace you get shall be with me?

Flashes of silver and dancing. Not dragons but them, she smiled and danced, a hand holding her stomach.

“your right” she looked down, “I- I don’t know why it thought that perhaps we could all be united and happy, I was wrong , you were right.” she grabbed his hand, “please Aemond, don’t make me lady strong again, I swear I will only trust you from now on”

Aemond smiled, his words had one her mind once again, she was so tightly held in his grip that she would never escape him, not that she seemed to want to. For Aemond knew she knew the consequences of that. He didn’t know of her dreams but her knew she knew bloodshed would be inevitable.

“good” he smiled, caressing her cheek, “now gets some rest, on the morrow we shall be wed” he smiled, a true smile of happiness, and she seemed to return it in kind.

She had a dreamless sleep that night, and yet it wasn’t a peaceful sleep. She was awoken swiftly a dawn, much to her relief filling the room with chatter. Questions being asked left and right, joy on their faces for her wedding day. She was nervous, nervous of the wedding of what was to come.

She was swiftly washed and dressed, and as the wedding gown was put on her, nerves seemed to leave her body, and for the first time that morning she joined her ladies in there smiles and laughter.

Alicent and her mother soon came to get her, her grandmother accompanies them. They gave her good wishes, and her mother seemed to send her a look of Farwell, as she stepped into, her carriage, were she met her grandsire Corlys.

She smiled as she saw him, with him having visited her several times over the years, sometimes with Rhaneys or one of her new sisters also.

It was a weird feeling, begin close to man she now knew had no relation too, then her own mother.

“Dear Aemma” he greeted her with a smile.

“grandsire” she greeted him back, “are you to walk me down the aisle?”

He nodded, as sad look on his face, it should have been Laenor walking her, and d he had come to fill in his place “I am, dear”.

The rest of the short ride was sent in comfortable silence, the next words were ones of luck as they stepped out into the dragon pit.

The crowd was filled with lords and ladies throughout the realm. She knew few of the faces that greeted her and Corlys as they walked down the aisle, though she was happy to catch Cassandra’s eye as she walked down, she had sent her a reassuring smile, and the nerves of the presence of countless strangers started to leave her.

The ceremony was the same as most, the same vows spoken as always, expect unlike most ceremonies she had witnessed over the years, the words held some truth.

He brought her under his protection, something Aemond had repeatedly said was the reason he had spent so long ignoring her, to build the man that could protect them. And as he swapped her Veleryon cloak for the Targaryen one, she felt his protection and the loss of another. As if by, marrying him she had no say in what side she was on and no matter what she did, tragedy would follow. The security of whatever it was she felt in the few moments were her dreams turned to her dancing, to her smiles and laughter were gone.

But the smile Aemond had sent her, and how true his words were when he pledged his love to her made her forget it all, and hope for some happiness in the years to follow.

next part

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[helvegen-s]

Rage, rage | ten

index

Pairing: Azriel x Hybern!Princess!OC

Summary: Nimue was a gift for the King of Hybern. His shining jewel, the perfect heir. However, she is clear about who the villain of the story is. When she saves her father's enemies from a tragic end, she realizes that now it's the Cauldron who has a gift for her: a mate.

Warnings: injuries, description of injuries, graphic violence, emotional crisis, bad relatives (not the best family), emotional abuse, poison, a little fluff at the end.

A/N: im excited por this part, things are finally setting into place. i hope you like iiiiiiiiiiiiiiit hihi. i appreciate your feedback, its heart warming to read your comments. if you want to be added to the taglist please just let me know

A shiver ran down Nimue’s spine. Dagdan and Brannagh, her cousins, blocked their path, their faces masks of barely contained fury. They had walked straight into a trap.

"Azriel," Nimue whispered urgently. "We need to leave. Now."

Azriel tensed, his shadows swirling around him like the prelude to a storm. "We can’t just—"

"Please!" Nimue begged, her eyes fixed on the looming threat. "I don’t want to fight them. Please, let’s go."

But it was already too late. Dagdan, his face twisted into a cruel smile, stepped forward. "Oh, cousin," he sneered. "Where do you think you’re going in such a hurry? Don’t you have time for your dear family?"

Brannagh’s eyes burned with hatred. "It seems you’ve been very busy conspiring behind our backs. Did you think we wouldn’t notice?"

Nimue’s stomach twisted into knots. She knew there was no escape. The only way out now was to fight—and that meant someone here was going to die.

Dagdan drew his sword, the steel gleaming under the sunlight. "It’s time to pay for your betrayal," he growled.

Without further warning, he lunged at Nimue, his blade whistling through the air.

Tension snapped like a taut bowstring. Dagdan and Brannagh, their faces contorted with fury, charged at Nimue and Azriel, initially ignoring Lucien. The sunlit glade became a whirlwind of steel and fury, swords clashing and hissing like enraged serpents. Azriel moved with lethal grace, his daggers dancing in a deadly rhythm, while Nimue fought beside him with restrained ferocity, evading her cousins’ attacks with feline agility, unwilling to strike back.

Despite the rage in her eyes, Nimue couldn’t bring herself to unleash her full power against them. A strange pang of remorse, an echo of the familial bond they shared, held her back. She didn’t want to kill them—she just wanted to escape. But Dagdan and Brannagh had no such reservations. Every strike, every roar of fury, was meant to end their lives.

Lucien, caught in the chaos of steel and magic, hesitated for a heartbeat. Loyalty to his Court, to Tamlin, warred with the new path he’d chosen—the promise he’d made to Nimue and Azriel that he would not betray them. With a growl, he leapt into the fray, his sword clashing against Brannagh’s in a spray of sparks.

A pained grunt snapped Nimue out of her focus. Azriel, his left arm immobilized, was retreating under Brannagh’s relentless assault. Worry clouded Nimue’s judgment. She had to help him.

In one fluid motion, Nimue summoned her power—not to attack, but to defend. She wove an invisible shield around Azriel, deflecting Brannagh’s blade at the last moment. The impact echoed in the air, but Azriel remained unharmed.

It was then, in that vulnerable instant when her attention was fixed on Azriel, that Dagdan seized his opportunity. With a savage roar, he lunged at Nimue, his sword a deadly streak aimed at her heart. Nimue, unprotected, couldn’t react in time. The blade sank into her side, carving a deep, agonizing wound.

A scream of pain and fury tore from her lips. Her vision blurred with red, and the world wavered around her. She fell to her knees, clutching at the wound in a desperate attempt to stem the flow of blood.

But instead of fear or despair, a cold, implacable rage consumed her.

Rage, rage and nothing else but rage.

The pang of regret, of empathy, of kinship she’d felt for her cousin vanished, replaced by a thirst for vengeance that burned through her. Her eyes, once filled with hesitation, now glowed with savage intensity. The power of the Cauldron, long restrained, erupted like a volcano.

Azriel and Lucien shielded their eyes as a blinding light burst forth from Nimue, forcing them to step back instinctively. Shadows swirled around her, their tendrils infecting everything surrounding her. Her fair hands started sharpening into claws, her teeth elongated, her face twisted into a feral snarl.

With supernatural speed, she launched herself at Dagdan, ripping his throat open with brutal precision. Blood sprayed in violent arcs, soaking the grass in crimson. Brannagh, paralyzed by terror, tried to flee, but Nimue was faster. She caught her by the ankle, slamming her to the ground with a bone-jarring impact. With a triumphant growl, Nimue plunged her claws into Brannagh’s chest, tearing through muscle and bone with raw strength. Brannagh’s scream was choked off as the light faded from her eyes.

A heavy silence descended over the clearing, broken only by Nimue’s ragged breaths. The transformation faded as quickly as it had come, leaving behind a trembling, wounded figure drenched in blood and staring blankly at her cousins’ lifeless bodies.

Azriel and Lucien approached cautiously, their expressions stunned by what they had just witnessed.

Nimue collapsed to her knees, pain radiating from her wound as blood seeped through her fingers, staining the earth a deep red. A solitary tear traced its way down her cheek, mingling with the blood.

"Let’s go," she rasped, her voice thick with emotion. "We need to leave."

They had escaped Dagdan and Brannagh, but their journey to Velaris, to safety, was far from over. The cost had been unimaginable. Nimue’s innocence—that fragile core hidden beneath her strength—was lost forever in that forest clearing, drowned in the blood of her own kin.

Azriel watched Nimue with a mixture of horror and fascination. He had never seen her like this—unleashed, wild. The blood of her cousins stained her face and hands, and a primal darkness seemed to emanate from her. A pang shot through his chest, a mix of fear and admiration. It was terrifying and exhilarating in equal measure. That ferality, that unrestrained power, reminded him of his own—the one he so often struggled to control. In that moment, he understood that Nimue wasn’t just his mate; she was also a reflection of his own darkness.

Nimue stood and, with her magic, began to seal the wound on her side. For a moment, a wave of nausea threatened to overwhelm her, but she suppressed the urge and continued knitting her own flesh.

They staggered away from the clearing, the air heavy with the stench of blood and the echoes of recent violence. They walked in silence until Nimue could no longer contain the question that burned in her throat.

“How did you know?” she asked, glancing at Lucien out of the corner of her eye, her face still pale from what had happened. “How did you see through my deception?”

Lucien let out a sigh, running a hand through his tangled hair. There was a resigned weariness in his face, but also a spark of something else—something she hadn’t expected. “It was the bond,” he finally answered, his voice low. “Between you and Azriel. I saw it.”

Nimue’s heart seemed to stop for a moment. Her steps slowed until she came to a complete halt. “What?” she whispered, her eyes searching his desperately, as if hoping to disprove what he’d just said.

He nodded solemnly. “I saw it in the clearing. It’s not something you can easily hide… that connection is unmistakable. It’s there, Nimue. You’d need to understand it deeply yourself to conceal it from others. For me, it was enough to know what I was looking for to find it.”

For a moment, the world seemed to crumble around her. A whirlwind of emotions overtook her—shock, disbelief, and a wave of something that felt far too much like fear. Azriel was a vulnerability, a crack in the armor she’d built over the years. She wasn’t used to this—to depend emotionally on anyone else. She had always been self-sufficient, the one who moved others as pieces on her board. But now… now Azriel wasn’t a piece. He was a weakness she didn’t know how to handle.

She looked ahead to where Azriel walked at the front, scanning the forest for a secluded place where they could safely winnow home without drawing more attention. He was trying to push aside the whirlwind of emotions Nimue was unintentionally pouring through their bond, but it was incredibly difficult. Especially when he glanced back at her, and Nimue immediately looked away when their eyes met.

The conversation hung in the air as Nimue, overwhelmed by her emotions, lifted her trembling hands. Her power flowed from her like an unbridled river. Azriel’s shadows moved toward her, soothing her, while Lucien watched in silence. With a blinding flash, the three vanished from the clearing and reappeared in the courtyard of the house she had come to call home.

Feyre, Rhysand, and the others were already waiting in the courtyard, alerted to their arrival by the brief message Azriel had sent to Rhysand’s mind. Their faces reflected concern and vigilance, and now, seeing the state the three were in, the alarm in their eyes deepened.

“Nimue,” Feyre murmured, stepping forward.

But before anyone could move closer, Nimue let out a heart-wrenching sob. Her body shook violently as she collapsed to her knees on the cobblestone ground, her hands pressed against her face as if to hide her shame and pain.

“I don’t know what I’m doing,” she murmured, almost inaudibly. “I don’t… know what I’m doing.” Her words were barely a whisper, fractured by the gasps of her sobs.

“Nimue,” Rhysand tried, his voice carrying his characteristic calm authority. He took a step forward, but Azriel raised a hand, silently suggesting they give her space.

“My father…” she continued, her voice trembling, without lifting her head. “He’s going to kill me. He’s going to kill all of us… all of you, when he finds out what I’ve done.”

Her voice broke, and when she finally looked up, her eyes were brimming with tears. The vulnerability in her expression was devastating. “I’m a monster,” she whispered, as if finally admitting it out loud—not just to them but to herself. “I always have been. What I did today… what I saw in myself… this is what I am. I’ve always known it.”

Nesta took a step forward, but Azriel reached her first, kneeling beside Nimue with an expression of uncertainty and something else… something close to pain. He didn’t say anything, but his presence was a silent reminder that, monster or not, she wasn’t alone.

“That’s not true,” Azriel murmured at last. His shadows wrapped around her gently, almost like an embrace. “You’re not a monster, Nimue. You did what you had to do to survive. You saved our lives. You’ve gained information that will be crucial to winning this war against your father.”

She shook her head, tears streaming down her face. “What I did… it wasn’t just to survive. I enjoyed it. My whole life, I’ve enjoyed this—terror. I was trained to kill, and I never questioned my masters. I’m a hunting dog. What kind of person does that make me?”

Rhysand and Feyre exchanged a look, and this time it was Feyre who stepped forward. Her voice was calm but firm, as if speaking from her own experience. “A person who’s been pushed to the edge,” she said. “Someone who’s learning to be more than what life forced them to be. I’m not going to judge you for the decisions you make to protect those you care about, Nimue. Right now, you think what you did was horrible, but I can only thank you for saving Azriel and Lucien,” she added, casting a knowing glance at Lucien, filled with understanding and quiet solidarity. “For bringing them home safe.”

Nimue squeezed her eyes shut, as if trying to block out the words, but she couldn’t. Her sobs grew louder, and though no one else moved, the warmth of the support surrounding her was undeniable.

Azriel remained by her side, his gaze fixed on her, but he said nothing more. He knew that words had their limits, and now, the only thing he could offer her was his presence. Feyre and Rhysand stepped back, giving Nimue the space she needed to process.

“When I came here, I thought I didn’t deserve what I found,” Feyre said, her tone low but full of meaning. “Love, compassion... a family. But I learned that it doesn’t matter where we come from or what we’ve done; what matters is what we choose to become from now on.”

The words seemed to penetrate the wall Nimue had built around herself. She lifted her gaze to Feyre, but before she could respond, something in the air shifted. A palpable tension settled, as if the world were holding its breath.

Azriel was the first to react. His shadows stirred around him, as if sensing an imminent threat. “Do you feel it?” he asked, his voice low but laced with alarm.

Rhysand nodded, his expression hardening. “Something is coming.”

Suddenly, the ground trembled slightly, like a distant echo drawing closer. Lucien moved to the entrance of the courtyard, his golden eyes gleaming with alertness. “We’re not alone.”

Nimue rose to her feet with effort, still unsteady, but her expression had changed. Though her eyes still shone with tears, there was a spark of determination in them. Something had awakened within her—a reminder of what was at stake.

“It’s my father,” she said, her voice trembling but firm. “He won’t come himself, not yet. He’ll send a message. A warning. He wants to make it clear that he knows what we’ve done, that he’s watching us, that he’s coming.”

“Then we must be ready,” Rhysand replied, stepping into his role as strategist. “But this time, we’ll face him together.”

The tension within the group was palpable, but so was the bond that was beginning to form. Nimue, though broken inside, felt something new: a longing to fight, not just to survive, but to protect those who were starting to matter to her.

The poisonous presence of her father’s magic faded as suddenly as it had appeared, and Nimue felt all the muscles in her body relax for the first time in a long time.

She was home.

The echo of the events in the forest clearing still lingered in the air, but in the days that followed, the calm sanctuary of Velaris offered Nimue a respite she hadn’t allowed herself in a long time. While the rest of the Court moved in a constant flux of maps, strategies, meetings, and plans, Nimue stayed on the sidelines, limiting herself to rest and recovery.

The wound on her side stubbornly refused to heal, even with her magic, so she concluded that the sword that had injured her must have carried some kind of poison she had yet to identify. With care and time, she eventually purged the toxin from her body, but she couldn’t prevent the ugly scar that now crossed from below her chest to her back. Every time she closed her eyes, she saw the blood of her cousins covering her hands, felt the echo of the rage that had consumed her. In her mind, her father’s voice rang out, always relentless, always accusatory.

She had managed to befriend a flock of crows that lived near the house and had taken to feeding two stray cats that roamed by the Sidra River. Since Lucien had been granted some freedom, they had also spent time exploring Velaris together, and Nimue discovered in him the pleasant company Feyre had spoken about.

But she hadn’t crossed paths with Azriel. Not until now.

She had assumed he’d been busy. She had managed to isolate herself from reality for a couple of days, but the looming shadow of war followed her wherever she went. Azriel, on his part, had work—now more than ever. Speaking with his spies in other courts, pulling strings, traveling to the Court of Nightmares…

Nimue found him sitting on a stone bench in the garden beside the house. In his hand was a cup of tea (Nimue loved tea; every time she smelled it from the other side of the house, it was as if she were enchanted with a spell of eternal happiness), and Azriel was gazing at the sky with his eyes closed, enjoying the last rays of sun on that June evening.

The princess hesitated at first, her steps faltering as she approached. But there was something she needed to tell him, something she could no longer keep to herself. Finally, she stopped a few paces away, her hands clasped in front of her.

Azriel looked up, his amber-colored eyes meeting hers. There was a trace of concern on his face, a slight tilt of his head that indicated he was listening even before she spoke.

“It’s been days. How are you?”

“Fine,” Nimue began, her voice barely a whisper. “May I sit with you?”

He nodded, shifting slightly to make room. “Of course.”

She sat down beside him but didn’t look at him immediately. Instead, she fixed her gaze on the horizon, watching the sun slowly disappear behind the mountains. For a moment, silence stretched between them, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. It was as if they were both waiting for the right moment to speak.

Finally, Nimue broke the silence. “When Lucien said he had discovered me—because of our connection, our bond…” Her voice trembled slightly, and she swallowed before continuing. “It felt like something inside me crumbled. I’ve always been so… careful, always in control. But with you… with you, I can never fully be in control. And that scares me.”

Azriel watched her, his expression soft yet intense. “Nimue,” he said quietly, as if he spoke her name with a special reverence. “I understand what you’re saying more than you might think.”

She looked at him, surprised. “Really?”

He nodded, his shadows moving slowly, as if mirroring his mood. “I’ve spent my life hiding parts of myself, keeping others at a distance. Not because I didn’t trust them, but because I feared what they would see if they got too close. With you… everything is different. I see myself in you. I feel like I’ve finally found the person I can show the worst parts of me to, and they’ll accept me anyway.”

Azriel’s words struck something deep within Nimue. She turned to him, her eyes shining with a mix of emotion and vulnerability. “But what if this makes us weaker? If we become a burden to one another… I can’t go into war knowing I’ll lose something I never imagined I’d find.”

Azriel shook his head, letting out a soft laugh, his eyes meeting hers with an intensity that almost made her shiver. “We’re not a burden. We’re a team. You make me stronger, Nimue. And I think I can be that for you too—if you let me.”

She let out a shaky breath, her hands trembling slightly. “That’s what scares me. Letting you. Depending on someone else.”

Azriel extended a hand toward her but didn’t force her to take it. He left it there, open, as an invitation. “You don’t have to face this alone. I don’t want you to feel obligated, but if you ever decide you’re ready to trust someone else, I’ll be here waiting.”

Nimue looked at him, and for a moment, she seemed to wrestle with herself. But then, with a courage she didn’t know she possessed, she took his hand. Azriel’s fingers closed gently around hers, and that simple gesture gave her a sense of security she had never experienced before.

“Thank you,” she whispered, her voice heavy with emotion. “For not giving up on me.”

Azriel smiled faintly, and something in his expression made her feel less broken, less monstrous. At that moment, she understood she wasn’t alone, that she didn’t have to bear the weight of the world on her shoulders.

Without thinking too much, she leaned toward him, and Azriel didn’t pull away. Their lips met in a soft kiss, full of uncertainty and unspoken promises. It was a moment of pure connection, a refuge amidst the storm both carried within.

It was then that Nimue realized what she had just done, and she pulled back abruptly, bringing her hands to her lips.

“Oh, by the Cauldron. How inappropriate was that? And without asking for permission! Oh, my goodness, what a disaster. I’m like one of those girls in Nesta’s books—oh, this is so nerve-wracking. How embarrassing, forgive me.”

Azriel couldn’t contain the pure laugh that escaped his chest. Nimue kept apologizing and talking and talking, her face as red as the flowers on the bush behind her, gesturing wildly as she tried to hide her face. Azriel smiled, his eyes narrowing as he tried to etch into his memory the image before him: the raw beauty and innocence of Nimue, the sensation he had felt in the center of his chest when their lips had been joined for just a few seconds.

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[romanoffsbish]

Don’t Worry, I’ve Got You

GN!OC (Rio) x F!R

Natasha Romanoff x F!R

Request | Natasha had planned to sweep you off your feet when she returned from her mission. But it seemed someone else had beat her to the punch… | WC: 5,144

Warning: Domestic Violence - Abusive OC | Mentions of Sexual Coercion | Petrified R | Violence - Blood - Gory OC Death | Happy Ending 😀

Smut: Somno (Consented)-Oral (R) | Tribbing | Overstimulation | Sweet/Soft | Mommy (N)

When Natasha exited the Quinjet she was in a state of disbelief to find Yelena stood there. It'd been a year since she'd been home, and it wasn't the compound she looked to, it was you. Not only was it strange that you were missing, but Yelena being there was truly worrisome.

The sisters loved each other endlessly, but they never wanted to seem vulnerable enough to the others by showing their concern outwardly. For you and Kate though, they'd always be there, and in turn the two of you'd always show too.

"Where's Y/N?" Natasha couldn't hide the fear in her voice, but her face remained neutral.

——

Yelena cringed at the mention of you, it didn't take a rocket science to know what happened.

The blonde wanted to help you the first time she saw you with a busted lip, and a bloodshot eye that wasn't simply from crying. Then you flashed her a nervous smile, and she knew that she would only make it worse. You were oddly attached to this asshole—she understood.

Not to say she didn't help in her own ways, she was fond of you, not the same way as her sister, but enough to want to protect you. There was a very specific reason Rio was sent on an influx of lengthy missions this year by his CO, Yelena, (and it wasn't the hopeful rank bumping).

As a former widow she knew that being under another's control is something you become conditioned to respect over time. Sometimes you're even to the point of defending your abuser, for her they doubled as her captors, she reasons it's the same for you in this case, but regardless the reaction all worked the same.

You wouldn't leave unless you felt safe, and you wouldn't feel that way until Natasha returned.

Which is why Yelena is here now. "Natasha, we need to talk yesterday, fuck the reports." The blonde knew the walls had eyes and ears so she pulled her confused sister off to her bike, then drove her fifty miles out to a quaint diner just far enough from the city that Natasha wouldn't sprint back to immediately avenge you.

It was the right thing to do, she didn't want you to see just how scary Natasha could be. The last thing you needed was to be startled into seeing any part of them inside of your Natasha.

"I'm going to kill them!" Yelena smirked over her stolen coffee mug as they'd moved to the dead fields just to the left of the rest top. The circumstances weren't amusing, but seeing that her sister shared her sentiments elated her.

"This is funny to you?" Natasha questioned, her fist shot out at the blonde with the quick reflexes, landing in her open hand. "Why didn't you help her Yelena? Sh-she was my..."

"Lyubov'," Yelena quietly finished for her, she dropped her fist and wrapped her arms around her trembling body. "I never got to tell her what it meant, she always asked, but just as I was about to tell her I had to go. I never..."

"No!" Yelena reprimanded her, "You are not to blame here Natalia. Neither am I. If I helped her alone it would have been worse. Doveryat'."

(Trust)

Natasha nodded, and for a few minutes they stood there, Yelena thinking over what weapon she will use on Rio, and Natasha mourning through sobs the loss of your perfect start.

Everything in both of your lives had been deeply rooted in pain, and now this would be too. Natasha dreamed of more, she wanted the silly first date where she fumbled over her words, that came with the reward of a kiss.

She wanted to enter into a relationship with that period where you dressed up for each other to go out on the town that slowly faded into lazy nights in wearing matching pajamas.

Natasha adored you wholly, and wanted to make every little thing as special as she could. Up until she left she had already been doing so, but still she feels like she failed you. Maybe if she had just staked her claim more outwardly then Rio would've never taken you as theirs.

They would have never been able to hurt you...

Deep down she knew all was not lost, and she could make it right with you. Natasha also knew Yelena was right, it wasn't her fault, but that didn't mean she didn't carry the burden.

All she ever wanted was to keep you safe, and this failed instance will forever haunt her.

"Go pay the bill, I need to make a call." Natasha handed over her card, and as Yelena walked away she dialed in a favor, "Afternoon Hill."

With an urgent need for reaching you the redhead had swiped her sister's keys, and drove them back with a practiced elegance in her every illegal swerve. Yelena grumbled about the likely wear and tear, but there was no genuine anger with her concern, and the redhead couldn't hear her over the racing of her nervous heart, or the harsh wind anyways.

Every second counted, she couldn't risk letting Rio do anything further to you, and she worried that her return might've sparked something in the devious agents voided chest.

"Meet me at the underground cells in an hour," she coldly said to her sister as she tossed her the keys to her bike before she sprinted off. The rooms were spinning when she ran through the compound doors, and it continued to do so until she finally managed to spot you.

You were sitting with your back to the entrance of the communal kitchen, your frame hunched over and your body was lightly shaking. It was clear as day to her that you were sobbing, even if you tried to muffle the sound with your hand.

Natasha wasted no time approaching you, and in her hurry she failed to announce herself. It broke her heart when you jumped away from her touch and skidded across the kitchen.

"I-I'm sorry, I promise I will never mention her again, but please don't —," you cut your shaky pleas off the moment you looked up to see it was a frowning Natasha and not a seething Rio.

Natasha saw the exhaustion in your cloudy eyes, and the rest was painted on your face. Your worry lines were more prominent from when she last saw you, and you looked small. You were once a strong, well built agent at the top of her game, with a ranking higher than her own, but now you looked like a weak prisoner.

There was a scabbed over gash of sorts on the apple of your right cheek, and scratches and bruises all over your upper arms that you tried to conceal with your sleeves but she saw them. The eyes of a spy were a curse just as much as they were a skill to the woman. Because seeing your skin marred broke down her resolve.

"D-don't cry Natty," you yourself said over a sniffle, she smiled sadly as she approached to give you the comfort you were trying to offer.

You whimpered as her strong arms wrapped around your tense shoulders, but your entire body couldn't help but to relax as you smelled the familiar floral scents of her cologne. It was like the world returned to normal for just a moment. All you needed was her touch and suddenly the tears were flowing unendingly.

"It's okay moya lyubov'," she coo'd, and you whimpered once more hearing the familiar words that always brought you comfort. You held onto her shirt beneath her leather jacket for dear life, and she gently swayed your form as you freely sobbed. "You're safe now."

Natasha grinned over your shoulder as her eyes met those of your sleazy partners. Rio's fists were clenched as they stood outside the room, their gaze held contempt as they scowled. They hadn't a chance to interrupt your moment as Maria stopped them in their tracks, and swept them away—if only they'd known of their fate...

"I am here," she whispered, "They are not."

It didn't matter that you knew what her words meant, the meaning was clear; Rio was gone, and you were nothing short of relieved.

Natasha watched as you removed the ring on your finger and dropped it onto the counter in a hurry as if touching the metal harmed you. It was self motivated, but it still left her hopeful to see you denounce them before her own eyes.

The redhead wordlessly pulled you out of the kitchen and you ignored the smell of Rio's musty cologne as Natasha took you straight to her bedroom, a place where you always found yourself sneaking off to when they were out.

While you sat on her bed silently pondering the fact that you were free from this last years terror she ran you a soothing bubble bath. It helped to ease the remaining tension in your body, the warmth of the lavender water helped to soothe the marks atop of your battered body.

Natasha did her best to respect your privacy, giving you her room as she stood outside of the door until you came to collect her. The redhead beamed as you cracked the door and beckoned her inside, seeing you wearing her clothes filled her with a sense of pride, it made her want to remember the way you looked in this moment.

"What can I do to make you feel better?" You smiled softly, and silently nodded towards the bed, she nodded her understanding and laid down with her arms wide open for you to crawl into like you'd always done in the before times.

"I missed you," you croaked, and she pressed her chapped lips against your temple, leaving a firm kiss against the skin and for a moment the persistent ache in your head from the earlier scuffle with your spouse seemed to fade away under the soft affection of your desired lover.

"I missed you too Y/N/N," she sighed, her arms gently tightened around you in emphasis. "Every day I found it harder and harder to stay away. I'm so sorry I was gone for so long, and.."

You shook your head and kissed the side of her neck as your lips were rested there. "Don't."

The redhead sighed, and relented on pushing you beyond your limits. Even if she felt sorry, she still should keep that to herself. It's unfair to ask of your forgiveness, when you were the one who had to endure the cruelty of another. All she was meant to do now was hold you close, and never let this ever happen again.

Once you'd slipped into a state of unconscious that had you snoring the redhead cautiously shimmied out from beneath you. She hated taking the comfort of her embrace away from you, but she had somewhere to be in ten. So with a final kiss to your cheek she left the room, securely locking her door as she did.

"Sestra, welcome to the party!!!" Yelena greeted her sister, "You are just in time."

Natasha took the brass knuckles from her sister's extended hand with a smirk, but before using them she decided to punch Rio square in the nose with nothing but her bare hand. A reminder to the crooked agent that she didn't need anything more to harm them efficiently.

Blood gushed from the asshole's nose and the sisters rejoiced when the pitiful excuse for an agent began to cry. "Seriously? Already crying? What a joke." Natasha snorted at her little sisters taunting, then she turned her malicious attention back to your sobbing ex. "Too bad you're not the funny kind. Just the pathetic."

Rio knew better than to plead for their life. Maria escorted them here and handcuffed them to a chair. Yelena menacingly stood watch over them before Natasha entered. It was clear to the criminal of the hour that their fate was sealed the moment they took your hand in theirs and abused your loving nature.

"Snyat' s nikh naruchniki," Natasha dryly said as she slid the brass knuckles over her fingers.

(Uncuff them)

Yelena obliged her sister, and with unnecessary but warranted strength she shoved them from the chair. "Wh-what's happening? Can I go?"

Natasha chuckled darkly, "Oh please, you are simply being granted a chance to try and throw one of your little punches at me. Show me the inexcusable power you used against her."

Rio smirked, then lunged at the redhead with a confidence they were sure to lose in seconds. Natasha cackled as they punched her nose just as she did theirs with literally no damage done.

"God damnit you're fucking weak!" She cackled as they stumbled back in shock, looking at their fist in confusion as if it betrayed them. "You're going to regret ever laying a hand on her!!"

A taunting smile adorned their face as they challenged Natasha with a tilt of their head. If they were going to die anyways, they decided it would be best to torment her back. "Not only did I smack her around, but I gave her my —."

Natasha socked them in the jaw, cutting their disgusting words off at the source. Only cries of pain left them as the bronze over her knuckles had effectively broken their jaw into sections. Blood mixed with their drool and dripped down their chin along with a chunk of their tongue, and that made Natasha smile wickedly.

Yelena watched with a glint in her eyes as her sister tossed the buff excuse for a human being around as if they were a weightless rag doll.

"Pozvol' mne povernut'!" Yelena eventually whined, and Natasha scoffed, "Imet' eto."

(Let me have a turn / Have at it)

While the blonde tormented Rio with her sharpened knife Natasha chose to discard her weapon and stared at the blood on her hands. Observing as it dripped onto the cold cement of the cell floor, staining it red; her ledger gushed. 

"Natalia!" Natasha shook her head free of the distraction of her dark, self destructive thoughts, and looked up to see a bloodied Rio on their knees, body swaying as they fought to keep their loose grip on consciousness. It was time to deliver the final metaphorical blow.

"Y/N's mine," Natasha growled while holding their disfigured jaw in her hands, her nails dug into their raw skin and they hardly winced as the life force left within them was dwindling. "She was never going to be yours, because she loved me, and she was far too good for you."

"Fut yuh," they spat incoherently, and Natasha grimaced as their blood spluttered onto her face. "I'd bless you, but we both know you're not going to make it to heaven," she teased, smile mocking as her hand lowered to wrap around their neck. Her stony glare of the black widow was the last thing the abuser saw before their lights officially went out. Yelena looked at her, and Natasha smiled weakly at her sister.

"Ready for cleanup," she muttered tiredly into the speaker of her phone, then left the room as fast as she could. The weight of the situation had finally gotten to her, the realization that she could have lost you to that weak fool had her crying the whole way back to her room.

She heard shuffling, so she stood with her head pressed against her door until her breathing regulated, and the tears had come to a stop. Only then did she enter her room, and headed straight for the bathroom to take a shower.

You were flat on your back now, your midriff exposed as the shirt you wore rose up and the plush blanket she left was kicked off the bed. Natasha admired you fondly as she walked out with her towel wrapped around her nude form.

When you finally awoke she was drying her hair in front of her body length mirror, she now wore a pair of biker shorts, and a sports bra. The sight of her flexed abs, and swell of her perfect breasts through the mirror made your mouth even dryer than the amazing sleep had.

The redhead turned around with a soft smirk on her lips, the teasing gesture was however overwhelmed by the distant look in her eyes. She watched guiltily as your eyes filled with recognition when you saw her purple hands.

"Natty?" The redhead sighed softly, "Don't." You nodded in understanding, and patted the bed besides you, and she stalled briefly as she walked into the closet to grab her shirt, as well as her favorite leather jacket for extra layers.

She didn't want to seem like a temptation, even if she only had to exist before your eyes to be.

You honestly couldn't restrain yourself, seeing the physical proof that she'd used her assassin skills to defend you turned you on. It was odd, the way that her violence didn't turn you off. It was perfectly understandable though, knowing that she loved you enough to chose to defend you was the most attractive characteristic.

You were down bad, and Natasha gulped as she saw the way your eyes bloomed with swirls of palpable lust. It took all of her not to pounce on the moment that presented itself to her, but she stood no real chance at abstaining here. In a matter of seconds you were straddling her lap and lifting her bruised knuckles to your lips.

"Y/N," she gasped, a subtle warning in the way her hand trembled in yours, but you cupped her cheeks and smiled warmly before saying: "I want to feel your love Nat, please show me."

Both of your hearts beat out of rhythm, but the jumbled thumps were however in sync. She surveyed your eyes for a brief moment, then she kissed you breathless as she lifted you both up off the mattress. Setting you down on shaky legs she smiled at the way your eyes took time fluttering back open. Her hands settled on the hem of your shirt, "May I?" You nodded, a bit emotional as she sought your permission out.

Natasha was incredibly gentle as she disrobed you, a muffled sob left you as you cherished the unfamiliarly soft touch. It had been such a long time since someone regarded your body this way. Every partner you'd been with since you moved into adulthood had been callous; rough around all your edges and cruel to your curves.

Your parents were just the same, the redhead had given you hope for a brighter future. Then she was gone, no longer present to keep that shadowed figure from exposing themselves.

Rio was never someone you regarded as a threat until the day when they introduced themselves, cocky grin on their face as they asked you out on the date you'd be at later.

It was never a question, it was a veiled prison sentence that you would fall into the trap of.

You were naive enough to believe it friendly, everyone knew you were unspoken for, but the whispers echoed that you were Natasha's girl.

Which you were wholeheartedly aligned with.

Rio disregarded the claim, showing you the empty finger that they shoved a ring onto a month into your assigned arrangement. It devastated you being with anyone that wasn't her, they never physically forced you down, but they used their venomous words to coerce you.

"Moya lyubov, are you sure?" You felt this wave of warmth tingle beneath your skin, and felt as her calloused thumb wiped away your tears. "We don't have to do this yet detka, or ever if-."

"Natasha no," you whimpered, nails dug into the nape of her neck as you feared being left sexually frustrated. You needed her more than you ever thought humanly possible, "Please."

Natasha's arm wrapped around your bare waist, she guided you back towards the bed and kissed your lips the entire time she spent cautiously lowering you onto the mattress. It was like she was in a trance as she took her time kissing away the pain of your scars.

It was her intention to make this moment one full of love, her lips gently kissed over the skin of your stomach and she felt the way your entire body tensed in anticipation. Yet she didn't take the bait, she instead continued to lick the salty sweat from every bit of exposed skin she could, and her kisses continued to drop all over, like into the crook of your knees and elbows, and the apex of your thighs.

You whimpered in need for nearly an hour, but she never heard you as she was determined to feel every last bit of your skin beneath her now numbed lips. Soft snores finally pulled her from her trance, she gazed up at you, her lips stalled on the skin beneath your belly button.

She grinned against your pelvis as she caught a whiff of your abundance, her eyes closed as she felt her mouth salivate in an instant. Her body shuffled until she could eye your cunt, it oozed like a waterfall and seeped into the grey sheets.

With the tip of her nose she nudged your lips apart, then slid up to bump at your clit as her tongue followed the trail with a firm lick. Natasha groaned against your sensitive nub as she truly tasted you for the first time. Her face was absolutely coated in arousal in seconds as she ate your pussy like it was her last meal.

If she goes down for her crimes today she would actually request you as her final meal.

Muffled whimpers left through the part in your lips instantaneously, your hips shifted, then all of a sudden your upper torso arched off the bed and you moaned yourself into consciousness.

You were enthusiastic as your hand wove into her hair and you loudly vocalized her praise: "O-oh my god, don't stop—fuck, never stop!"

Natasha purred against your pulsating clit, a clear indication that she shared your thoughts. Dangerously so honestly, because she made you release on her swirling tongue alone four mind blowing times before she took a break.

While you grappled hazily with the functions of time and space the woman merely watched you in amusement. You were adorable as you came down from your repetitive sequence of highs, yawning obviously and smiling contentedly.

Moments later you finally stared down at the woman whose body was pressed into yours. Natasha smiled up at you lazily, with her slick cheek smushed into your thigh, you returned the gesture and her heart skipped a million beats. You took her breath away every time she saw you, but this time was different, it was even better than she dreamed. She finally had you in every sense of the word, before she left you were already hers in totality, but it was never the right time to take that leap together.

Or at least you'd both thought that you needed the time to be right, but now you knew to stake your claims and to never let each other go.

The redhead needed to be closer to you, so she left the oh so comforting heat radiating from between your thighs behind and began to kiss up the center of your body, a snail trail left in her lips wake with each sloppy press of them to your sweaty skin. She relished in the way you'd shiver as the breeze from the window solidified your essence and had your heated skin chilled.

She smirked once her lips pressed into your cheek as you tugged at her clothes and whined.

"What is it moya lyubov'?" She chuckled, then prohibited your response as she pecked away your pout. Her tongue licked at your bottom lip and you allowed her the moment of distraction. Savoring the taste of you on her tongue as she kissed you breathless, your body pushed back into a needy state as your arousal soaked into her shirt, and she was reminded of your prior whining as you had just tried to undress her.

Natasha shook her leather jacket off of her arm, keeping her body raised on the other like it took no strength at all. She never once broke the kiss, managing to suck your soul from you, she even kept her balance as she threw it off. For her remaining clothes she had to pull away, but you didn't feel her absence for long as she moved rather speedily, almost like a cheetah.

"What does it mean?" You shakily asked as she lowered her cunt atop of yours, a carnal groan then left you, "Fuck, Natasha you are so wet."

She hummed teasingly as she began to rub her aroused cunt against yours, her plump lips hovered your ear as she whispered her secret words: "My love." You felt the warmth of her sigh tickle the skin of your collarbones, and it spurred on a flurry of goosebumps across your body and burrowed deep into your heart. "I'm only ever wet because of you Y/N, every time you'd kiss my cheek goodnight I'd be drooling."

"Oh god," you moaned as her lewd confession was huskily spoken just as her clit brushed over yours, the stimulating touch caused Natasha's arms to nearly give out as she was overrun with pleasure, but her impressive strength won out.

"You've always been mine Y/N," she murmured the truth you both vehemently aligned with as she kept up a breathtaking pace with her hips, it wasn't rushed though which was new to you.

The painstakingly raw jut of her hips left you feeling dizzy, her teeth grazed across the skin of your jaw before her lips latched onto the bob of your throat as your body arched into hers.

It was made worse when she pulled away from your neck and hovered you once more, her lovesick gaze locked on your hazy one, and you were surely a goner as the words as sweet as honey left her saccharine lips: "I promise to cherish your body for a lifetime if you'll let me," her pace sped up just as fast as your heartbeat had, and your eyes brimmed with tears of pure joy as you came in sync with your soulmate.

Whispers of yes and please left your lips in between the moans of her name, and the world stopped when you hoarsely cried out mommy.

Natasha collapsed into you, her arms giving out as her warm arousal gushed from her already dripping cunt onto your thighs as she came again from she's sure your words alone.

"You did such a good job for mommy," she pecked your cheek then pressed her lips to yours and satisfied your needs to kiss her luscious lips as you basked in the aftershocks of your highs in a bubble of undeniable passion.

"Get some rest now detka," Natasha rolled off of you and pulled your limp body into hers. "You're safe with me Y/N, I promise you this."

"I know Natty," you mumbled over a yawn while burrowing your face in between her soft, rounded breasts. The redhead smiled and happily admired your relaxed face, she wore a proud grin as you drifted off, trusting her to keep you safe with the same hands she'd used to wring the neck of your spouse this evening.

You knew deep down that Natasha didn't let them go like you’d thought when she said they were not here. Apparently she was foreshadowing their looming demise. You didn't question her for a meaning when it came to the bruises on her hands, you just accepted it because she loved you enough to bloody her ledger. Though they surely deserved it, she still had to consciously take a life, and even though they were wretched, she still felt the loss.

Good or bad, her heart still cared too deeply.

The world was a safer place, you'd pointlessly reminded yourself of her humanity, as if she would ever lay a harsh hand on you. She who hummed softly, and ran a gentle hand up and down your back even after you'd slipped off into a middle ground. Your mind was still aware but your body was slumped into hers, but you heard her whisper clear as day as her lips faintly kissed your hairline. "I love you Y/N Romanoff, I promise I'll put a ring on your finger soon, I just have to unpack the little box from my suitcase and threaten a judge is all."

You involuntarily giggled softly and her hands teasingly tickled at yours sides, "You sneaky minx," you could hear the smirk in her voice, and you knew then she'd known all along that you were still conscious on some plane. "So, tell me Y/N, will you be my runaway bride?"

"It depends," you yawned out exaggeratedly, "Where will we be running off to Natty-kins?"

"Wherever you want sweet girl, I can make a home anywhere in the world if you're there."

"So romantic," you giggled, your lips brushed over her racing pulse and you left a tender kiss there to try and calm her, but it only made it beat out of sync as it sped up then slowed back down. "Of course I will marry you, just as soon as I can get this crock of fibbery annulled."

"Fibbery?" Natasha chuckled and you whined a little too honestly, "Don't make fun of me, I'm tired, and have a lingering minor concussion."

The redheads breath stalled, her body tensed but you tiredly lifted your head and kissed her chin before you whispered, "It's okay, I'm safe now in my favorite persons arms. Like you said, nothing can hurt me if you're around."

"Damn straight," she said as her grip on you tightened, and you sighed. Natasha's hold was expectantly possessive, which briefly felt too familiar to another's, but the way Natasha kissed the skin beneath your hairline, and continued her prior humming soothed you.

This wasn't the start she dreamed of, but she also couldn't prevent the smile that adorned her sleepy face as you nuzzled even further into her embrace, your clear trust in her meant the world to her and even eased some of her guilt.

You both knew it would be a long while before you were truly yourself again, and you knew from experience that her patience would never waver, and that alone would be enough. One thing was rather clear as you slipped off to sleep—you were safe, and loved just as you'd always deserved to be in your home's arms.

——

[oliviablancmom]

Enemies - Pablo Gavi

Pairing: Pablo Gavi x Oc!character

Summary: When they got attached in the hate for each other

A/N: My Gavi girls, it's finally here. Sorry for making you wait. I didn't intend to post so soon, but the story of these two is speaking to m, or rather, screaming. To everyone who followed 'Pedriiii', I hope you're here with me as well. I hope you like these two as much as I do." Ps: I actually considered giving the title "Pablito" to this one, to follow along with Pedriiii lol

Before

In his work environment, Gavi had to deal with many voices, sometimes encouraging, sometimes demanding, coming from all sides: his family, his friends, his team, his teammates, the fans, the haters. Everyone had something to say, an opinion. He believed that it was from these voices that his focus and instinctive leadership, came from, somehow an anchor that kept him focused. For Gavi, football was simple: it was about entering the field and getting the best result, no matter what or who.

On the field, he had only one goal: to help his team win. He had to stand out; he had to be bigger than the voices; he had to have control over the situation. Whether demanding more seriousness and effort from his teammates during training or more concentration and grit during matches, he was relentless. When he defended his team with the greatest ferocity in the world, opponents knew he didn't mess around when it came to Barcelona. He would bleed for the team, and if necessary, make the opponent bleed too. Many said his intensity on the field was unnecessary, childish, and merely a lack of control. But again, they were just voices. Gavi would rise above them too. Well, at least he would try, and most of the time he succeeded. He didn't care when they called him childish, didn't care about the players who had more years in their career or were more famous than him, didn't care about the actions and success of their biggest rival. They were not Barcelona. At the end of the day, they were just voices, and he stood up to them. It had always been that way, and it always would be. Well, at least it should be.

Gavi couldn't remember when he started to notice it, when that voice began to stand out from the others and especially have an impact on him. Well, actually it didn’t, he thought. But he had to admit, that voice was indeed, little by little, breaking through the great wall he had built around himself, and it was annoying. Who did she think she was? And it wasn’t the voice of his conscience, which even that he could control; it was the hoarse and shrill voice from shouting, involved in a false sweetness, cursing and belittling him, doubting him, laughing at him. Gavi looked around, staring at the crowd dressed in white, trying to find where that voice was coming from, but it was hard to tell.

The people in the stands looked at him strangely, increasing the intensity of their insults. Gavi shook his head and turned his attention back to the game. He decided to switch his position and wouldn't go near where the voice was coming from, distracting him.

The match had ended in a defeat for Barcelona. Gavi had gone to complain to the fourth official about his yellow card; it was unfair, especially since the Madrid player didn't receive a yellow card for a similar play. As he approached the tunnel, the voices grew louder, and he could hear the insults more clearly. Then, like a snap, that little voice stood out again.

"It's no use crying now. If you’re incompetent on the field, it’s not the referees’ fault." Gavi felt his blood boil. He stopped in his tracks, looking for who was responsible, and there in the corner of the tunnel, almost hidden by a sponsor's banner. A mocking smile on her face, a look of superiority that the Madrid fans always had.

"Aw, how cute, a fan. What do you want? A photo, an autograph..." Gavi's voice dripped with sarcasm. The girl made a face. "Come on, sweetheart, I don't have all day, and I can see you're craving my attention."

"In your dreams," she replied angrily.

"Looks like it's in yours," Gavi retorted, taking a step towards the girl.

She didn't seem intimidated at all, which was strange. Usually, when he assumed his ego-filled player persona, it had an effect. But the girl seemed indifferent to his aura at that moment.

"Believe whatever makes you feel better. You and your terrible team need a dose of delusion."

Before he could respond, he was pulled away by his teammate. Gavi looked over his shoulder, seeing the girl smile triumphantly at him. Seeing her smile like that made his mind automatically associate it with all the times he had heard the insults, coming from a faceless voice, a blur in his memory. Resonating in his mind as a reminder to strive harder, to play with more hunger, to attack more. Gavi felt a flicker of confusion and annoyance. Why did this voice affect him more than the others?

He didn't want to admit the impact that situation was having on him. However, he knew, he felt deep down in his core, that the voice, now with a face, would continue to follow him, and it would be easier to identify where it came from. Gavi considered forgetting the matter—it was just an fervent opposing fan. He was truly determined to ignore it, after all, he might never see her again. But it was already ingrained in his mind, he shook his head, trying to dismiss the encounter. Yet, deep down, he knew the girl's face and voice would haunt him, pushing him to prove her wrong.

********************************************

A/N: I told you that we were definitely heading into the enemy's path... and you can't even imagine. I hope you enjoyed this brief introduction, and I can't wait for you to meet our sweetheart.

[icarusflewsworld]

Rhysand & Cassian & Azriel X OC

Hello, here is the chapter 32 of a fanfiction on the world of Acotar where our three favorite Batboys are the mates of a single woman.

It's way too calm. They're way too happy into the last chapters. I need to fix that. 😈😈😈😈

On Wednesday, February 12th I will be posting the next chapters. 2 chapters. The first will be all four of them cute and doing dirty things at the starfall. The second will be a chapter full of revelations about Luxi's past, and therefore sadness and anger for the three batboys. With a sad sad sad and terrible end of chapter. 😈😈😈😈😈

Love you all guys !!!!!! You make my heart BOUM BOUM ❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹

! Don't forget to read the previous chapters ! : Here

Chapter 32

When Luxiana woke up, it was the middle of the night. She opened her eyes with difficulty but frowned when she saw Cassian sleeping in front of her while someone else hugged his body.

She had spent the day and evening with the Illyrian with the red siphons. She had waited impatiently for Rhysand and Azriel to return but according to Cassian, they had been held up by their work. Of course, that hadn't stopped Luxiana and Cassian from having a good evening and a good dinner under the laughter and endless words of the young woman.

Then the blonde had decided to go to bed, a little disappointed not to have seen the other two Illyrians and cursing herself for feeling this kind of emotions - which could lead to nothing - for them.

She had headed to her room and had been surprised to see Cassian following her, and even more so when he had simply answered that he would sleep with her whenever he could.

But what was her surprise when she entered her assigned room and saw that her bed had been replaced by a bed even bigger than Cassian's. "It's so that all three of us can sleep with you," Cassian had simply answered, shrugging his shoulders as if it were normal.

But it was strange according to Luxiana. Why did they want to sleep with her? It could be just to fuck her but they had already spent several nights with her just to sleep. So what were the four of them? What was she to them? What were they to her?

It was while asking herself lots of questions that she had fallen asleep in Cassians' arms and that was now why she was surprised not to have woken up in his arms and to feel someone else behind her holding her pelvis.

She turned her head and glanced over her shoulder to see that it was Azriel holding her. He was sleeping just as deeply as Cassian and had placed one of his wings on her to cover her under the blanket. The shadowsinger's face was buried in her white hair and his arms were tightly wrapped around the blonde's pelvis as if he had clung to her urgently before falling asleep.

Luxiana smiled as her heart pumped fiercely to send blood to her cheeks and warm them. Azriel must have joined them during the night and had grabbed her to cuddle and fall asleep with her. She felt so happy to understand that. He had wanted to sleep with her and hold her in his arms. She loved it so much when they held her.

She fidgeted a little, glancing left and right past Cassian and Azriel to find Rhysand. But the lord wasn't there with them…not in bed with her. Hadn't he wanted to sleep with her?

She looked around the room in a last hope of seeing the high fae but she didn't notice him.

Instead, she tensed up all at once, frowning, ready to react if necessary, noticing a sort of shadow trail entering through the half-open door of the room.

Luxiana was going to get up in a hurry to defend Cassian and Azriel if necessary but she understood before moving. She realized that this black streak was part of Rhys' power.

He was reaching out with monstrous slowness towards them, towards her. As if he was desperately trying to reach her but something was holding him back.

Luxiana's heart skipped a beat. Was Rhys in danger and calling for help? No, his power wouldn't react like that if that was the case. But worried and curious, Luxiana decided to go see what was going on to make sure the lord was okay.

She struggled out of Azriel's tight arms - who groaned in his sleep but didn't wake up. Then she crawled on her knees to the end of the bed where she jumped to her feet and rushed toward the door and into the shadows.

Without waiting, she began to follow the black trainer filled with power into the corridor, hoping that it would lead her to Rhys. She ran down the stairs and through the hallways before reaching a door that was open just a tiny inch.

Luxiana could feel Rhysand's power rippling through the room. She smiled a little for a micro second when she noticed that he was one of the most powerful fae she had ever met.

She pushed the door open slowly and frowned as she saw the High Lord's power fill the room in a whirlwind of darkness, pain, and power.

She didn't know where she was or what this room was - she had never set foot in here - but it was so dark that she couldn't see inside, not even where Rhys was.

She felt from the surge of power that was spinning in all directions in front of her, making her hair - surely untied by Azriel during the night - fly in all directions, that whoever entered this darkness would be torn to pieces and reduced to ashes.

What was happening to Rhys? Luxina felt her chest vibrate with worry and her stomach tighten with anguish. She didn't try to understand then and entered the black cloud of violence slowly, not seeing where she was putting her feet.

But her, the power of the high lord did not touch her. He circled all around her without touching her, without approaching her and in fact, he even fled from her.

Luxiana could have smiled seeing that Rhys' power feared her just as much as Azriel's shadows but she was far too preoccupied.

Luckily, like a light in the night, the glow that Luxiana gave off allowed her to see barely two meters around her. So, when she arrived in front of what seemed to be a huge desk with piles of paperwork on it, she gasped.

Rhysand was slumped over his desk, his cheek on his forearms as he sat on what looked to be a luxurious velvet chair. But his face... it was twisted with pain and sadness.

Luxiana's blood boiled as she realized. He must have dozed off while working and was now having a nightmare. "Rhys," she yelled urgently, but he didn't move an inch.

The blonde's heart broke. She knew what he was feeling and how real and painful this kind of nightmare felt.

She ran around the desk to put her hand on the lord's shoulder. "Rhys," she called out to him, shouting. She began to shake him awake, but he was still sound asleep.

She placed her hand on the brunette's cheek and winced as her skin felt incredibly cold. It was because of his power. "Rhysand ! Fuck!" She began to slap him gently and quickly several times but still no movement.

So, panicking a little more, knowing that he was suffering, she grabbed his shoulder to lift him a little as she could and slip under him, between his chest and the desk. She hugged him with all her strength, resting her chin on his shoulder. "Rhys, please, wake up."

Maybe it was the desperate voice of his soulmate echoing through his nightmare. Maybe it was the comforting vanilla scent he now smelled. Maybe it was the tickle of his soulmate's cheek on his own. Or maybe it was the feeling of peace that suddenly washed over him. But the swirl of darkness around them began to calm down gradually.

The cloud of darkness even ends up freezing entirely and disappearing all at once, collapsing abruptly on Rhys to regain his body while waking him up suddenly.

The high lord jumped back to press his back against his seat as Luxiana had to release him while remaining crouched beside him.

Rhysand's breathing was rapid and his gaze was clouded by the confusion while moving all over the room as he tried to get his thoughts in order. Then the blonde raised her hands between them and spoke in a soft voice. "Rhys."

He jumped again and his hands transformed into black clawed paws as he slapped the blonde's hands away with his forearm, raising one of his claws in the air to gain momentum. Luxiana didn't even react, not feeling even a little threatened and knowing that she could stop him from hurting her anyway.

But when Rhys laid eyes on Luxiana and recognized her, his eyes widened and his shoulders sagged suddenly. He was able to take a deep breath and his heart calmed as he came back to himself completely. And suddenly, he realized the position of his claw and winced at the guilt that was pinching his heart and at the fear that he could hurt his soulmate that turned his stomach. He brought his hand down fiercely to his side as he transformed it back. “I’m sorry,” he managed to breathe out as he ran his palms over his face.

"It's okay," Luxiana reassured, her eyebrows furrowed in concern. "You had a nightmare, but you're okay now." She placed her hand on his cheek and Rhysant leaned his head into her palm to deepen the contact while closing his eyes to savor it better.

But his heart was still hurting so much so he grabbed the blonde by the arms to pull her towards him. She had to straddle his thighs but she didn't struggle to wrap her arms around the lord's neck, sticking her body to his.

Rhysand rested his face on his soulmate's neck to breathe in her scent deeply. He needed the hug. Needed that scent. Needed her. He gradually relaxed thanks to Luxiana's caresses in his hair and her sweet words. "It's going to be okay," she repeated. "It's going to be okay."

Rhysand wanted to nod and believe her words. Believe that it was going to be okay, but he couldn't. He was so scared to death.

"Did you have a nightmare?" the blonde asked with sadness and empathy.

Rhysand nodded once, keeping his face in the blonde's neck.

Luxiana's heart tightened a little more. "Do you want to talk about it?"

Rhysand shook his head negatively so Luxiana didn't say anything else, understanding. He already had to deal with all of this in his nightmares, he didn't want to deal with it while awake too.

A few minutes passed where she waited for the lord to calm down while continuing to reassure him.

Then finally, completely at peace, Rhysand straightened up. He looked at Luxiana with such tired and sad eyes that her heart split with a sharp, painful blow.

She took a deep breath. She understood that he didn't want to talk about it, but if she could help him, at least just a little, then she didn't hesitate. "You know, if you're having nightmares about what happened under the mountain..."

"No, I didn't have nightmares about that," he interrupted in a broken voice.

Luxiana tilted her head with a frown, waiting for him to elaborate if he wished.

Rhysand lowered his pupils into the void. "At first, yes, I had nightmares about it. They were memories most of the time. But not anymore." He raised his blue irises to Luxiana's face and placed his large hand -now burning- on her cheek. "Not anymore."

"So what are you having nightmares about?" Luxiana asked with a pleading voice and a sad face. She couldn't help him if she didn't know what was bothering him.

A muscle twitched at the corners of Rhysand's lips as he noticed her concern for him. He studied her face with bright eyes to make sure he memorized every inch of it. "In my new nightmares, I see someone I love leaving me, being hurt, tortured, or dying because of me. Because I am a high lord. Because the world is dangerous and I have failed to make it safer. And because time will eventually run out and take her away from me and there is nothing I can do about it. Nothing. And no matter what I do in my nightmares, I can never save her. Never. And it terrifies me, it kills me with fear knowing that my nightmares could come true at any time and I might not be able to protect the person I love."

Luxiana's heart felt like it was being stabbed savagely several times. She didn't show anything on her face but a wave of pain and jealousy strangely invaded her. She would like to be loved by someone like that. She would like Rhys to love her like he loved the person he had just told her about.

She took a deep breath, putting her bad feelings aside to place her hands on Rhysand's shoulders. She looked into his eyes with an intense gaze. "Rhys, you are one of the most powerful fae in this land. But most importantly, you are the most selfless, caring, generous, intelligent, and altruistic high lord this land has ever known."

Something sparkled in the lord's pupils but Luxiana continued, "That's not even an understatement. Trust me, I... I've met High Lords and I've read a lot of books about the old High Lords,... about your father too... and you're so, so much better than all of them. Rhys, you have no idea what an extraordinary fae you are. You sacrificed yourself for your people, for Velaris, for your friends and family. No other High Lord has done it and no other High Lord would have done it."

She slid her hands from Rhys' shoulders to his neck and then to his cheeks to cup his face and emphasize her words. "So, trust me, if there's anyone who can protect the person they love, it's you."

Rhysand took a deep breath as he closed his eyes, enjoying the words of his soulmate that lightened his chest and made him feel so good. He felt so happy that she said that to him, that she thought that of him. "It makes me feel so good to hear that, Lux. Especially, coming from you. You have no idea."

He opened his eyes again but frowned. His heart was still bruised with worry and fear. "But there are some things I can't do anything about. Like time..."

Luxiana tilted her head curiously. She didn't understand, but in the end, it didn't really matter. Rhysand had earned her loyalty and more. "I could do something about it."

Rhysand chuckled softly as he looked at her fondly.

Luxiana got a little annoyed as she crossed her arms. "I swear. You may not believe me but I'm super strong. And you won my… You won me, Rhys. I would protect, I would fight, and I would sacrifice myself for you and the people you love."

Rhysand was electrified through and through with panicked fear. He shook his head hastily, frowning and grabbing Luxiana's face in his hands. "But that's not what I want, Luxi. I don't want you to sacrifice yourself for me, that's exactly what terrifies me. I want you to be safe, I want you to live long, I want you to be happy."

The blonde's breath hitched in her chest as her eyelids fluttered open. Her heart pounded strangely in her chest, making her cheeks heat up. Was he afraid for her? Did he want her to live long and be happy? He was so kind. Her heart suddenly beat faster for the lord, almost asking to come out of her chest to go hug the fae. She made a sad pout.

Rhysand frowned at her reaction. "What's wrong?"

The corner of Luxiana's lips lifted for a second. "I'm falling in love with you," she said simply with a shrug.

Rhysand moved back suddenly, his eyes widening as his breath hitched. But his heart… his heart swelled so much that it felt like it was going to explode, only to reform and re-solidify like a new one. Like it had never been damaged.

His soulmate's words echoed in his mind as a wide smile spread across his face. She was falling in love with him? His soulmate loved him. She was falling in love with him. His eyes began to shine with tears. A flash of joy passed through him. He felt so lucky.

He threw himself at Luxiana to press his lips to hers and beg for a fiery and passionate kiss with his tongue. A kiss to which she responded by silently exchanging with Rhys their feelings for each other.

He pulled away from her to rest his forehead on his soulmate's as they both gasped for air. "Perfect. Fall completely for me, love, I beg you."

Luxiana felt vibrant with joy and hope. He wanted her to be in love with him? She smiled with all her teeth, with all her heart. “Kiss me,” she demanded in a breath.

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🚫THERE IS A SMUT SCENE AFTER THOSE WORDS ! DO NOT READ IT IF YOU DO NOT WANT TO, IF YOU ARE UNDER THE LEGAL AGE OR IF YOU ARE JUST NOT ALLOWED TO -> PASS DIRECTLY TO THE FOLLOWING CHAPTER !🚫

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Rhysand growled and lunged for her mouth. While kissing her, he grabbed her hips to lift her up and get up from his chair with her. He placed the blonde's buttocks on his desk while slipping between her thighs to stick his erection to her crotch.

He lowered his lips to the blonde's neck to place a trail of burning kisses there. He ran his hands over his soulmate's bare thighs to slide them over her skin and under her nightie. He moved them up again along her hips and her belly, taking the dress with him. Luxiana raised her arms as Rhysand pulled it off her.

He threw the piece of cloth further into the office and then with a movement of his arm, he swept everything that was on his desk to push Luxiana by the shoulders and make her lie down on her back on the piece of furniture.

He ran his palms and fingers over Luxiana's bare breasts, enjoying her soft skin. He kissed her mouth again to lower his lips to her neck then to her cleavage, to the base of her breasts. He placed a kiss on one of her nipples which hardened under his lips before licking the curve of her chest.

He moved his mouth down her stomach, licking it up and down with his tongue until he reached her hip, biting it gently, grabbing a piece of skin between his teeth and pulling it gently. He kissed her stomach again and even sucked on some places.

Then he lowered his mouth to her already soaked panties. He grabbed the elastic of the underwear between his teeth to pull her back and slide her panties down her thighs and remove them with his mouth while staring at his soulmate.

Luxiana's breathing was rapid at the sight of Rhysand's intense gaze as he removed her panties. Her chest was rising and falling rapidly and she didn't know if it was from lack of air or if it was her heart slamming against her chest with force.

Her underwear hit the floor and Rhysand grabbed her thighs to pull her pelvis to the edge of the table. He knelt down in front of her to place a kiss on the inside of one of her thighs. “You’re my favorite job to do on this desk.”

Luxiana stood up a little, leaning on her elbows to look Rhys in the eye. She raised an eyebrow, unable to hide her smirk. "Am I a job for you?"

Rhysand let out a small chuckle as he placed another kiss on the inside of her thigh, higher this time, which made Luxiana shiver. "You are my everything, Lux. You are my work," He placed a kiss higher still, maybe a few inches from her part. "My title," He placed a kiss barely two millimeters from her crotch. "My body," he placed his lips on her pubic bone. "My heart," he kissed her lower lips.

Luxiana moaned, shivering violently under the butterflies tickling her lower belly. "My soul," he growled with conviction as he licked her slit from bottom to top. "My everything." He kissed her clit, sucking on it before nibbling it gently.

Luxiana was already trembling with excitement and when Rhysand amused himself by pushing his tongue into her hole while placing his thumb on her clitoris to play with it, she couldn't help but move her pelvis back and forth. She gripped the edge of the desk with one hand and ran her other through Rhys' hair to grab his locks and press on his skull to accentuate his tongue strokes.

She moaned, arching her back as Rhys rubbed her clit and licked almost everywhere, savoring her. He reached up to kiss her hip. "Do you know how jealous Az and I were today?"

Luxiana frowned, out of breath. "Why?" she managed to say as Rhysand ran his index and middle fingers down Luxiana's slit, slowly penetrating her.

The blonde let out a long, loud breath, closing her eyes as fire pulsed through her body.

Rhysand looked at his soulmate's face as it filled with pleasure with a smile. "Because Cassian had fun telepathically sending us his memories with you all day."

He placed a kiss on her collarbone and began to slowly and deeply move his fingers back and forth while at the same time placing the bottom of his palm on her clitoris to rub it in time with his fingers sinking inside her. "You have no idea how much we would be dying to be in his place."

He kissed the blonde on the corner of her mouth. "How much we wanted you to fight with us too and bring us to our knees like you brought Cassian to his knees."

He kissed her on her other cheek. "How much we wanted to take you from behind like he did."

He growled, biting her shoulder. "You have no idea how hard Azriel got in the middle of talking to other spies and how I couldn't control myself on my papers while we heard your moans in our heads and saw you enjoying yourself through our brother's eyes."

Luxiana moaned and gesticulated a little under Rhysand as he sped up his fingers thrusting into her.

"And when you had dinner alone with him and you were laughing and talking with him without us, do you know how much we gritted our teeth? How we were dying of jealousy that we weren't there?!"

He bent his fingers upwards, pressing his palm a little more on the blonde's clitoris while making rapid movements inside her. Luxiana was so wet that the obscene noises that came from her part -due to the friction of Rhys' fingers inside her- increased the excitement of the lord whose entire body was on fire while his penis pulsed in his pants. "You have no idea how much I had to demand, threaten and insist with Azriel so that he finishes what he was doing and how much I wanted to give up everything, even my position as high lord, when you asked Cass where we were and we saw your adorably disappointed face when he answered that we still had work and that we could not be there."

Luxiana's heart electrified with happiness from top to bottom. They had wanted to stop everything just to spend the evening with her? She felt so happy.

Regaining her confidence, she grabbed Rhysand's wrist to push him away and make his fingers come out. She stood up, placing her other hand on Rhys' chest and lifting him up with her, pushing him away.

The bright pupils of trust and desire she placed on Rhys made him smile, raising an eyebrow as it awakened something warm in the brunette's chest.

Luxiana nudged Rhysand with her arm toward the blue velvet sofa that sat on one of the walls on the side of the room. She rolled her hips as she walked confidently, like a predator toward its prey.

When the back of Rhys's legs hit the front of the couch, he flopped down onto it, bouncing into a sitting position on the cushions. He leaned back as he took in the full, naked body of his soulmate with a biting gaze as she straddled his thighs.

She ran her hands up and down his chest before grabbing the buttons of his shirt and starting to undo them.

She unbuttoned it one by one and slowly removed his shirt, running her fingers over the brunette's skin following the fabric.

When his garment was removed, Rhysand placed his hands on his soulmate's hips and wanted to pull her closer to him but Luxiana slapped his fingers away. "Tsk, tsk, tsk," she refused him with a sound of her tongue on the roof of her mouth. Then she grabbed his wrists to pin them to his sides on the velvet.

Rhysand's eyebrow rose even more before he chuckled as he gave in. He placed his palms behind his head as he leaned back against the couch completely to let his soulmate what she wanted.

She ran her fingers over the lord's pecs and abs, following the curves of his tattoos before moving up to his shoulders, and pressing on his biceps to make him lower his arms. Then she deflected both hands to the bony curve at the top of his two wings.

As soon as his soulmate's fingers made contact with his sensitive skin there, Rhys closed his eyes with a groan and let his head fall back.

She moved her caresses down his wings, in the same places on both sides. Luxiana knew where to touch to make it feel the most good and it worked. Rhysand almost jumped at the electric current that was fighting all over his nerves and throughout his body in repercussion. The bulge in his pants doubled in size as his blood flowed almost entirely to it.

“Luxiana,” he moaned, grabbing her wrists to stop her caresses. He was losing control. He loved it and he hated it at the same time.

He tried to regain the upper hand but Luxiana rolled her wrists to escape his hold. "Shh," she said, placing her index finger on the high lord's lips. Then she placed her mouth there in a soft kiss before deviating to brush her lips against his ear. "Let yourself go. Trust me." Then she placed them on the salty skin of his neck, kissing and licking it, sliding her hands over his chest and then his pants.

She undid his laces before removing his pants, helped by Rhysand, and pulling them down to his ankles.

As Rhysand's cock stood proudly between her thighs, Luxiana knelt down in front of him. She wrapped her hand tightly around the fae's member, making him groan as she leaned down to place her lips around his glans. She amused herself by running her tongue over his tip, wrapping it around while sucking it. Then she joined her other hand around his cock to start making small rubbing movements up and down.

Rhysand felt himself pulse with desire and pleasure as he could only devour his soulmate with her mouth around his cock. She gave him a dark look of trust and want that made him moan as he squinted at her dimples. "Fuck," he cursed.

Luxiana released him with one hand, still gripping Rhys' member at its base to grab the brunette's wrist with her other hand and bring him towards her head. She separated her mouth from his penis to demand, "Hold my hair."

Rhysand didn't try to understand, he obeyed. He planted both hands in his soulmate's white locks to free them from her face while she threw herself full mouth on Rhysand's sex, pushing it entirely into her throat.

She began to move her head back and forth to rub the lord's cock in her throat, sucking and caressing it with her tongue. With one of her hands, she kneaded his balls, accentuating Rhys' pleasure and sometimes she put her lips there to lick and suck them too.

Her second hand slid up to his wing which she stroked at one spot while pumping his cock with her mouth.

Rhysand felt like his body was going to implode as his nerves pulsed with pleasure everywhere and fireworks exploded in his stomach.

“Do you like it?” Luxiana asked, eager to know if it felt good to her.

“Fuck, yeah,” Rhysand agreed, gritting his teeth to hold back his unmanly moans.

He couldn't hold back any longer. A wave of pleasure surged through him, completely overwhelming him. His wings jumped, his muscles clenched, and his cock began to pulse. He moaned in a hoarse sound as he came into his soulmate's mouth.

Luxiana swallowed, licking the entirety of the lord's member before straightening up to pull Rhys out of her mouth with a 'plop'. But this action had the effect of instantly making the lord's cock harden again and making his arousal skyrocket again.

He growled as he grabbed Luxiana by the hips to lift her up and make her straddle him. He pulled her to him and kissed her. But after their kiss, the blonde grabbed his wrists again as she pulled back a little. "I'm not done," she insisted with a predatory smile.

“How pleasant it is to know that,” the lord smiled as his desire tingled in his chest.

“Lay down,” Luxiana ordered—pointing to the couch seat—in an authoritative tone that pleasantly turned Rhysand inside.

He let out a full-throated laugh before obeying, lying down on the couch with his back, taking Luxiana with him. "At your command, ma'am," he mocked gently.

Luxiana smirked as she leaned over him to lick his lips up and down without breaking eye contact. "Good boy," Luxiana teased, unable to help her smile.

Rhysand growled, tightening his grip on her hips as his chest filled with tickling butterflies. "Fuck, this kind of thing apparently turns me on a little too much."

Luxiana raised her eyebrows in surprise before bursting into laughter.

Rhysand rolled his eyes. "And that laugh. What couldn't I do to hear that laugh for the rest of my life?" He devoured her with a glare so intense it immediately calmed Luxiana. She swallowed hard. He wanted to hear her laugh for the rest of his life?

She kissed him with such power that it surprised Rhysand a little before he kissed her back with the same intensity.

He wanted to touch her, to caress her whole body, but Luxiana grabbed his hands and pinned them to his chest. "Don't touch," she demanded, smiling with all her teeth.

“Or what?” Rhysand taunted with a smirk.

“Or I should go sleep with Cassian or Az instead of you,” she made a mock-apologetic and disappointed pout. “That would be terrible, wouldn’t it?”

Rhysand burst out laughing again. “Terrible,” he agreed. “Almost as terrible as not being able to touch you.”

"Perfect then," the blonde smiled mischievously.

She grabbed Rhysand's penis, lifting her pelvis a little so she could position it at her entrance. But she only penetrated the tip of Rhys' penis, making small movements of her pelvis on it.

Rhysand growled, struggling to keep his eyes open from both pleasure and frustration. "Are you teasing me?"

“Maybe,” Luxiana laughed softly. “You don’t like it?”

"I hate it," he growled, but damn maybe he liked it, actually. "And I love it. What are you doing to me?"

Luxiana smiled proudly before pushing Rhysand's penis fully inside her. Both of them let out a long sigh of satisfaction at the pleasure that spread through them. Then she mounted him, thrusting her hips back and forth, slowly.

Rhysand clamped his fingers on his abs. "Let me touch you, fuck," the frustration building inside him surprisingly heightened his pleasure.

Luxiana nodded negatively, taking the opportunity to caress Rhysand's chest and arms.

To get a better position, she straightened up, leaning her hands on Rhys' thighs and starting to bounce up and down, moaning at the friction of the lord's cock inside her.

Rhysand couldn't take it anymore. He couldn't breathe as his muscles pulled and burned with frustration and pleasure. He had to touch her. It was a vital need now. "Please, Luxiana. Let me touch you," he pleaded.

The blonde couldn't take it anymore either. She was shaking and her muscles were already aching even though she wanted so much more. She wanted him to touch her so hard. Cheeks red, her eyes as veiled with pleasure as Rhys's, she nodded, panting.

The lord then wasted no time, growling he hurriedly ran his hands all over her body to caress her breasts, pinch her nipples before grabbing her hips and helping her movements by making them faster and deeper.

They savored each other, touching, caressing, kissing. Then Rhysand pulled Luxiana on top of him, pressing her chest to his torso to wrap his arms around her back.

Then, relying on his heels on the sofa, he began to thrust powerfully and quickly into Luxiana, pushing his cock deep into her.

Luxiana moaned and almost screamed as her clit was stimulated as well by the lord's pubic thrusts. He pounded her hard so something exploded in their belly and when Luxiana came as she tightened her walls around Rhysand's cock, he also moaned as he came inside her.

Luxiana fell and collapsed further onto Rhys' chest, her muscles unable to hold her up as Rhys struggled to breathe and recover.

A huge smile appeared on Rhysand's lips as he began to stroke her back. She was falling in love with him. He was so in love with her and she was falling in love with him.

But actually, she was already so in love with him too.

[mamirhodessxox]

His Strange Addiction

(Bonus Chapter)

Cody Rhodes x Fem OC!Reader (Milena Reyz)

Desc: It’s been an official year since Milena & Cody got married & had a child & now 2024 has hit, Cody is doing many promos for wrestle mania but it ends up with Milena coming to his defense when The Rock takes things to far.

Contents: Violence, mentions of blood, Trash talking, arguing, comedic relief sort of, fluff, angst????

🏷️ list: @alyyaanna @ginswife @coolpastelartshoe @greatkoalawizard @cokolin044 @kotoriarlert @alicerosejensen @bunnybot55 @agent-dessis-posts @adollonyourshelf @mini-rhodes @southerngirl41 @harmshake @femdisa @kabloswrld @claymoresofinfamy23 @jeysbvck

{~I'm very serious with you guys interacting with my writing!!!! it would make me so happy & excited, the more comments & reposts the more inspiration i have to write :) likes and comments are strongly appreciated so please COMMENT COMMENT COMMENT COMMEENNTTT the more comments the more content <3!!!~}

“Cody you shouldn’t be challenging someone like Dwayne.” Milena spoke as the married couple paced around the bedroom packing before going into Chicago for Monday night raw, “Sweetheart it’s fine I-“ “You trained for this type of stuff yes but Dwayne is 10x bigger than you, he’s already pissed you off by bringing family into this and you know if he actually hurts you in some sort of way I’ll run my mouth and challenge him myself.” Cody chuckled to himself while he watched their daughter Ivey roll onto her tummy while petting Pharaohs head “That’s not necessary love.” “If he pisses me off can I act out?” Cody sighed looking at her “1 time.” She giggled smiling before kissing his cheek & going off downstairs.

“Your moms a reallll fire cracker.” He grinned as Ivey just smiled & cooed at him. Cody picked her up carefully and let out a joking huff before she giggled and tugged on his hair “alright gentle there, you’ll make daddy bald.” He tickled her cheek before going on with the day taking care of his adult chores alongside Milena.

Weeks passed since that day and it was finally Monday Night Raw 03/25/24. Milena sat in the bus with their daughter & her mother Jasmine. They all watched the event from the tv attached to the bus but just as Cody was in the middle of his promo Dwayne had stolen the moment & having a staring contest with Cody before whispering something to him. Milena raised a brow & rolled her eyes as she continued watching the TV until it was time to tuck in Ivey for bed while Milena suddenly started turning back to the TV noticing a backstage segment of her son in law getting into a scuffle before Dwayne once again appeared but full blown attacking Cody

“Look at you now Huh?! You thought the rock was gonna let you talk trash for the last two weeks!? HUH?” Jasmine held a hand over her mouth “Oh my god?!” Jasmine gasped making Milena walk out on time and see her husband being tossed around on television “You’re kidding me..” Milena held Ivey close & tried covering her daughter’s eyes but she was to squirmy while Milena saw Dwayne stand outside of their exact bus yelling about chicago and tossed cody around

Dwayne kicked her husband around in the rock “You wanna be a hero? How about this! You son of a bitch the rocks got your hero.” And quickly heard a loud thud against the vehicle “and mama rhodes. Look at your son the rock has a special gift for you.” He smeared Cody’s blood around a belt with his mothers name against the leather & kept taunting Cody on camera. Milena was finally fed up & instructed her mom to stay in the bus handing Ivey over to her grandmother while Milena went to Cody’s aid.

“Milena absolutely no-“ Jasmine watched as her daughter picked up an extension cord “Milena that could kill him!!” Milena glared “I’m not gonna kill him mom I’m just gonna make him back off!” Milena spole as she kicked open the door causing Dwayne to perk up a bit “You need a woman to defend you? Huh?” He mumbled towards Cody for a moment while backing up a little bit while Milena approached him clearly furious “Who in the absolute FUCK do you think you are?! You keep his goddamn family out of his mouth goddamnit & your not about to smash my husband against a goddamn bus where his DAUGHTER is inside of it!” She shouted while Dwayne held out his hands grinning.

“Sweetheart you’re to pretty to be dealing with this alright? Leave it to the men.” Milena tilted sn eyebrow while noticing a cameraman still rolling. “You wanna embarrass my fucking man on camera and talk to me like that? You must not know who the hell I am. So let me show you.” Just as Dwayne was going to speak she punched him square in the jaw and kicked him in the crotch before shoving herself behind him and untied the extension cord from her wrist before yanking it against his throat and wrapping the parts she was holding against her knuckles while mocking him with his own words “Look at you now! Look at you rock! You’re getting your ass beat by a woman, Cody Rhodes wife at that. Embarrassed aren’t you?”

Cody groaned against the bus and didn’t bother stopping Milena, She finally tugged the cord away from Dwayne & eventually kicked the man on the ground & dug her boot against his head “We’ll see you Friday Dwayne.” She kicked him in the face before snatching the camera away from the cameraman and held it over Dwayne’s bloody face while he coughed “This is your guys’ Final boss? Cody was right about him being a whiney little bitch, look at him, all bark and got his ass beat by a woman. How embarrassing.” She shoved the camera back to the man before snickering and walked back towards Cody & Helping him up and frowning at the sight “Jesus Cody…” he shook his head holding the side of his chest while she took him inside of the bus & her mother help clean off any blood.

“Your gonna beat his ass at mania am I understood?” Cody chuckled in amusement while his wife pressed a bandaid against his cuts & scrapes while he nodded weakly “sweetheart..” “I don’t care what we need to do but whether you like it or not you’re going to beat his ass.” He smiled tiredly and held Milena’s face “Copy that.” Milena’s mother sighed & gave him water after coming back from tucking Ivey into bed “You have to prove him wrong now Cody.” She spoke before Cody nodded & eventually called it a night.

Friday Night rolled around and everyone took notice to many things within the Rhodes family. Milena tweeted something about how Dwayne should get better security while Dustin insulted the man. Cody has been absolutely silent on social media, Milena had been planning a slight comeback since the last time fans saw her within WWE was before she was pregnant with Ivey and she was planning something VERY special for smackdown. Tonight Dwayne was doing a promo & stood in the ring “Cody’s entire family are a bunch of sorry ass clown emoji’s including his loud tacky wife & goofy ass dog. I’m sure you all saw raw right?? I beat that boys ass and he actually needed a woman to fight for hi-“ “And what about it Rock?” Cody’s voice soured through the arena as he walked towards the ring “You know what’s embarrassing? How you need to catch people in vulnerable moments when they aren’t paying attention so you can catch them off guard just to win a game nobody is playing.”

Dwayne glared & looked at the audience as he noticed Milena following her husband into the ring before spinning in a circle showing offer her business meeting like dress & black pumps while smiling brightly as her husband wrapped his arm around her waist while she snatched the mic away from Dwayne “You saying all of thiisss is tacky? Let me tell you what’s tacky. Your cousin Nia barely getting any sort of physical touch so she feels the need to shake her rank, vile, smelly ass In people’s faces THAT’S tacky & unclassy, but what’s REALLY tacky i-“

“Mrs Rhodes with alll the respect Why don’t you go sit somewhere and look pr-“ “First of all you address me as Ms. Reyz, Second of all you don’t talk over me, how about you stand right here shut the fuck up and let me speak. And as I was saying Dwayne, What’s really Tacky is how your forgotten about so you feel the urge to budge yourself into a wrestle mania event that isn’t even about you, your doing this whole thing so you can seem important when really You’re not. Your boring. Washed up & only good for corny ads & movies. Whats really tacky is how you want to seem soooo relevant within WWE that you’re willing to let Roman Reigns act like he’s the tribal chief when it should’ve been You. Your getting bitched out by some other irrelevant wannabe just so you could be relevant. And what’s tacky is you have the absolute nerve to go in live television embarrass my man & taunt his mother well let me tell you something Dwayne. Everything about you is Tacky, and the next time you talk about Cody’s family I’ll ruin your fucking life & make sure your role within TKO vanishes into thin air. Let me catch you beating on my fucking husband outside of a bus with my goddamn daughter in it. See what happens.”

She tossed the microphone at him & let Cody take over by Rock got in his face making Cody & Milena taunt him before pulling away as she started speaking again but off mic and slightly loud enough for the camera to pickup “What’s also tacky is how you talk so much on having Big Dwayne energy but you literally have an LDS struggle, you’re barely 5 inches yet have the audacity to walk up in here running your mouth like you have a big dick.” She snickered before fake frowning the more he glared while Cody spoke up “Trust me on this Dwayne. I’ll going to beat the living shit out of you & Roman all together.” He slammed the mic into the ground before leaving the ring before walking off to the backstage area,

Milena saw Jey & Seth laugh over something making her walk over towards them while Cody went to the dressing room to check up on Milena’s mom & Ivey “Where the fuck were you two when Cody needed help huh?!” Jey froze for a minute “woah wai-“ “You know how many times Cody has jumped the gun to save your asses from problems you’ve started but lack to solve every single time?” Jey awkwardly scratched his neck “Now I understand Seth because he has to be here for Becky & he has to watch out for Roux and I get that, Hell Cody just went to go check on Ivey, but you Jey?! I thought you always had his back.

“Okay woa- Mel I do have his back! I mean c’mon sis I’ll always defend him no matter what girl!.” She glared in his eyes shaking her head “So where were you on Monday when that entire ordeal was filmed on live television throughout the Arena? I know you saw it and you were here for raw so what the fuck?” Jey stood in silence while guilt wavered over his face “Goodnight Jey.” Milena spoke before walking bak to Cody’s dressing room & putting on a smile when she saw him tickling Ivey while she held his tie “look at you wrapping your dada up around your finger.” She cooed while kissing her daughter’s cheek “Where’d you go off to?” She shrugged “Just talking to jey.” Cody nodded with a smile before giving her a kiss until she pulled away humming.

“You’re gonna go out there at wrestle-mania, kick some fucking ass and win. I don’t care if you’re shady with it. But you’re going to win no matter what.”

xtripleiiix’s Masterlist

[srim01997]

Second Change| Aemond T. X OFC

Paring:  Aemond “One-Eye” Targaryen x Viseara Targaryen (OC), Aemond Targaryen x Viseara Targaryen (OC), Implied Aegon II Targaryen x Celtigar! OFC

Fandom: House of The Dragon (HBO)

Warning: Slight NSFW, Impregnant mentioned, Crispin being Crispin

Writer’s note: I tried to find that aemond gif lololo

Please ilke, comment and reblog!!

Previous Chapter | Second Chance masterlist | Next Chapter

Chapter 10 The wh*re of Red Keep

Viseara arrived on the battlefield, her figure barely visible from Aemond’s vantage point atop his dragon. Even from the distance, he could tell she was gravely injured from defending House Celtigar’s castle. The two dragons, one massive and one smaller but fierce, circled in preparation to clash, their riders issuing commands.

“Angōs, Nyx! (Attack, Nyx!) / Drakarys!”

The grayish-blue dragon roared defiantly, launching itself at the larger Vhagar with fearless determination. The sky lit up with fire so intense that soldiers below were forced to shield their eyes or scatter to avoid the inferno. Flames erupted from the mouths of both beasts, consuming everything in their path. Despite her experience as a dragonrider, Viseara’s disadvantage became evident. Vhagar’s sheer size and cunning overshadowed the smaller, valiant Nyx.

Nyx faltered, its neck caught in Vhagar’s jaws. Black blood sprayed like rain, scalding soldiers on the ground who screamed in agony. Viseara gripped her reins tightly as her dragon began to plummet. Her mismatched eyes caught sight of Vhagar diving after her, and she could barely make out Aemond shouting something over the roaring wind. Tears streamed down her pale cheeks as her ears rang, rendering his words unintelligible.

She saw his gloved hand reaching for her, desperate and unyielding, before darkness engulfed her. Somewhere in the void, she thought she heard someone crying and felt the warmth of tears falling onto her face.

Viseara jolted awake just before dawn, her body aching from the aftermath of their passionate night. She shifted carefully, her limbs still tingling. The evidence of their union remained: the sticky warmth on her thighs and the soreness deep in her core. Grabbing a cloth, she dipped it into water and cleaned herself thoroughly, ensuring no trace remained.

Slipping back into the nightgown Aemond had stripped off her the night before, she walked to the balcony. The first rays of sunlight painted the horizon as she gazed out, lost in thought. A pair of strong arms wrapped around her from behind, startling her. Aemond was awake.

“Good morning, Viseara,” he murmured, no longer addressing her with the formal Aunt. The young prince, clad only in loose trousers, stood bare-chested behind her, his eyepatch absent in their privacy. “You left me alone in bed.”

“I didn’t leave you,” she teased, a smirk tugging at her lips. “I just didn’t want to disturb you.”

“When will you call me by my name? No—last night you screamed it until your voice gave out when I—”

“If you say one more word, I’ll kick you out of this room,” she snapped, her cheeks flushing at his audacity. She couldn’t deny the volume of their cries last night likely alerted everyone in the castle. Glancing at the bed, the soiled sheets bore testimony to their deeds. She pitied the maid who would have to clean the mess. “Are you feeling better now?”

She almost forgot he had been drugged the night before. But by whom?

“Aemond… Who drugged you?”

The one-eyed prince collapsed onto the bed, massaging his temples as if piecing together the events of the previous evening. After a moment, he spoke. “I drank tea given to me by Cassandra Baratheon. Not long after, I felt strange—almost lost control and pounced on her, but I managed to stop myself and came to you—”

“So you decided to unleash it on me instead?!” Viseara groaned, throwing his shirt at him. “Get dressed and go back to your room before your mother realizes you’ve been here—”

Before she could finish, Aemond sprang to his feet and captured her lips in a fervent kiss. She didn’t resist as his tongue sought hers, his hands pulling her closer. In moments, she found herself perched on the desk, his tall frame slotting between her legs.

Breaking the kiss, he rested his forehead against hers, smirking. “If I hadn’t been under the influence last night, I’d have taken you somewhere other than the bed.”

Her palm smacked against his chest, the hard muscle beneath her hand reminding her of how much he’d grown. Meeting his gaze, she tilted her head up to kiss him again, guiding his hand beneath her nightgown. “See how much of a mess you made?”

“It’s still warm enough for me to enter again…”

“I’m sore.”

“I know…” Aemond murmured, nuzzling her neck as his hands began to unlace his trousers—

The sound of the door creaking open froze them both. Viseara’s children stood in the doorway, their expressions a mixture of shock and disbelief as they took in the compromising scene: their cousin and their mother, both partially undressed.

Scrambling to fix her clothing, Viseara turned to face them, cheeks aflame. “I can explain.”

Now, Viseara and Aemond sat side by side at the edge of the bed while Aenys, Maeria, and Elia stood before them with scrutinizing gazes. Aenys, the eldest son of the Rogue Princess, directed his sharp words at his cousin, who wore an annoyingly innocent expression.

"You slept with my mother, Aemond?" Aenys demanded, his tone icy. "You lay with her knowing she's my mother!"

"I know," Aemond admitted calmly, meeting the older cousin's piercing stare. "And I love her."

"How many times?" Aenys pressed, his voice rising. "How many times have you done this with my mother?"

"Quite a few," Aemond replied nonchalantly. "Sometimes she comes to me, but mostly, I come to her room."

Maeria and Elia exchanged wide-eyed looks, utterly speechless at their cousin's candid confession. Maeria, the eldest daughter, raised a hand to her mouth, stunned. She couldn't believe that this particular cousin, who had always shown disdain for marriage alliances, had been so consumed by their mother. It was not uncommon for Targaryens to marry within the family—siblings, cousins, or relatives of similar age—but an aunt-nephew relationship was far less frequent.

If this cousin became their stepfather, it would be utterly unsettling.

"Does anyone else know about this?" Maeria asked cautiously.

"Larys knew," Aemond replied flatly, "but he's dead now, so his loose tongue is no longer a concern. Don't worry; I plan to marry your mother."

"That’s not the point!" Aenys shot back. "You’re betrothed to Lord Baratheon’s daughter, yet you’ve been sneaking into my mother’s bed—"

"I am not betrothed," Aemond interrupted, his voice hardening. "I will not marry anyone except Viseara."

At that moment, Aenys wished his uncle Daemon could hear how desperately the one-eyed prince wanted to wed his mother. Aenys's mind raced with questions—had his mother become pregnant? Aemond showed no remorse for his actions, sitting there as though everything was perfectly acceptable. The Celtigar heir spoke in a measured tone.

"At least the Baratheon girl is closer to your age," Aenys said, glaring. "Your grandfather and mother will never—"

"Then I’ll take her to Dragonstone or one of the Free Cities and have a priest marry us," Aemond declared with a smirk. "In nine months, you might even have a new sibling."

"You!" Aenys lunged at Aemond, but the three women quickly intervened, pulling the two apart. Viseara’s voice cut through the tension.

"Aemond, how could you say such things?" she chided. "I’m too old to bear children."

"I know," Aemond replied, placing a firm hand on her lower stomach. "But what if you already are, and you don’t realize it yet?"

"I drank moon tea after you left my bed, Aemond."

"Seven hells, if I get a new sibling now, I’ll throw myself off the battlements," Aenys groaned dramatically.

Elia cleared her throat. "Let’s focus on the real issue. Lady Baratheon is furious because Aemond disappeared. She claims—or rather, insists—that he abandoned her after taking her maidenhood—"

"I did no such thing!" Aemond’s voice thundered, then steadied as he explained. "I was drugged and came straight to your mother—"

"Drugged?" Maeria interjected. "Cassandra Baratheon, of all people, drugged you? That woman is too dimwitted to pull something like that off unless someone gave her the means."

"There aren’t many who could make such a potion," Aemond said, rubbing his temples.

"And you were foolish enough to accept a drink from someone you barely know," Maeria said, narrowing her eyes. "It’s a miracle it wasn’t poison, or you’d be feasting with the Stranger instead of sitting here with my mother."

"Maeria," Aenys cut in, confused. "How do you know it was Cassandra?"

"Do I have to deal with both a dense brother and a clueless cousin?" Maeria sighed.

"Maeria!"

"Apologies, Mother," she said, raising her hands in mock surrender. "Here’s what I know: I overheard Maris complaining about how she didn’t want to marry Aemond because of his missing eye. As for Ellyn, she’s been flirting with Aenys—"

"Hey!" Aenys protested. "I was merely being polite to her."

"Think carefully," Elia chimed in. "Which is worse: Aemond being accused of abandoning Lady Baratheon, or the entire Red Keep finding out that Aemond and Mother have been sharing a bed?"

"Considering how loud it was last night, I’d say everyone already knows," Aenys muttered, shooting a glare at Aemond. "And you’re not even sorry!"

"I am sorry, cousin," Aemond said, his smirk returning. "Sorry that I’ll be doing it again."

He was pulled from his reverie of last night’s escapades by a knock at the door and a servant’s voice.

"Prince Aemond, Princess Viseara—Queen Alicent requests your presence."

“Seven hells”

Alicent tried to comfort Cassandra, who continued her theatrical sobbing beside her. The queen’s dark eyes scanned the people entering the hall. She strode forward and slapped her son hard enough to make his face turn. Viseara quickly interjected.

"You should hear him out first, Your Grace—"

"He violated her and then disappeared to be with you. He must take responsibility for this," Alicent said, her voice heavy with disappointment as she looked at her son. "I never raised you to behave this way."

Viseara noticed the defiant glint in Aemond’s single eye and quickly spoke up.

"Your son was drugged, Your Grace. It was an aphrodisiac, the kind used in brothels. How Lady Baratheon came into possession of such a substance, I do not know. Perhaps from one of the Maesters?"

"Or perhaps someone gave it to her," the rogue princess suggested, tilting her head. "Don’t you think that if it had been poisoned instead, you and your family might now face charges of attempting to assassinate the royal family?"

"I... I can’t say," Cassandra stammered, avoiding the rogue princess’s piercing gaze. "But the person who gave it to me said it would help me win the prince’s favor. I didn’t mean to drug him, and… he got up and left. He didn’t… violate me."

At that moment, the queen felt as if the world was crumbling around her. Her second son didn’t want to marry, the issue with Lady Baratheon was unresolved, and now Viseara was involved in this scandal. The rogue princess continued.

"That night, he was with me, and I—"

"I lay with her," Aemond declared unapologetically. "I didn’t violate Lady Baratheon that night because I went to my aunt’s chambers, as you all heard."

The rogue princess wanted to scream. That wasn’t part of her plan! She had been trying to help cover up Aemond’s indiscretion, not throw gasoline onto an already blazing fire.

From the corner of her eye, she noticed Ser Criston murmuring something, and she caught the words "Red Keep harlot." Her hand twitched toward her sword, but Aemond’s deep voice interrupted her thoughts.

"Ser Criston, what did you just call Princess Viseara?" Aemond’s sharp gaze locked onto the Kingsguard knight, his hand resting on the hilt of his dagger. "Say it again."

"I said nothing, Your Grace," Criston replied flatly.

"Such a liar. Not that I’m accusing you, Ser Criston," Viseara quipped with a smirk before turning to Alicent. "So, Your Grace, what will you do about this?"

The queen inhaled deeply, then spoke. "Princess Viseara, I must admit this is a difficult decision. But I beg to discuss this matter with you privately after this issue is resolved."

Viseara spent several hours in her chambers after the heated discussion between Lord Baratheon, Otto, and Alicent about how to handle the scandal. The best solution to quell the rumors surrounding Aemond and the rogue princess seemed to be sending Viseara to Dragonstone or the Silent Sisters. But such a move might result in an outcome similar to Princess Saera’s, or worse, Daemon might burn King’s Landing to the ground. The Dragonstone option was deemed the lesser evil.

The rogue princess arrived at Dragonstone on the back of her dragon, greeted by none other than Daemon. The rogue prince frowned as he noticed servants unloading her luggage and belongings from the ship.

Before he could speak, she raised a finger. "Don’t ask."

"If you don’t want to explain, fine. Welcome to Dragonstone, dear sister," he said, throwing an arm around her shoulders. "Don’t worry, you won’t starve. Just don’t touch my lady’s lemon cakes."

"Better guard your wine, or it’ll vanish bottle by bottle," she retorted.

For months, she settled into Dragonstone, finding solace in her twin brother’s mischievous grin. But something still felt missing, though she chose not to dwell on it.

Aenys remained by his mother’s side, while Elia stayed with Aegon as his wife and Maeria, as Alicent’s handmaiden, could not follow Viseara.

Though banished to Dragonstone, Viseara had no intention of fading into obscurity. She predicted that in three or four months, Vaemond would seize the opportunity to challenge Lucerys’s claim to Driftmark while Corlys was still recovering. If successful, House Velaryon’s fleet would fall to the Greens, and Daemon would inevitably kill Vaemond in the throne room.

Her role now was to navigate the coming storm, knowing full well the stakes at play. If she wanted to ensure Rhaenyra’s ascension to the Iron Throne, she would have to be ready for the real battle ahead.

TBC.

[alocon]

A Soulmate Who Wasn't Meant To Be [8] - Max Verstappen

written by alocon

Note: Name and Part One based on the song A Soulmate Who Wasn't Meant To Be by Jess Benko.

Summary: Mini chapter. When the FIA tries to stop you driving at the next grand prix weekend, the drivers decide to take a drastic, but necessary, turn to stand up for you.

Before you read: Use of Y/N

fc: Blanca Soler

[Previous Part] [Masterlist]

A Soulmate Who Wasn't Meant To Be- - MV¹ x Fem!OC

“So, question for Y/N.”

You were currently sat in the interviews before the next race, in a press conference with you, Lance, Zhou, Logan and Nico. You had been expecting this question when it came but had not expected it only 3 minutes into the questions.

“We hear you're under investigation by the FIA, would you like to expand on that and what you are under investigation for?”

“Yes,” you sat up in your seat, more than happy to speak. “I have been put under investigation for creating a hostile work environment since 2019. Apparently, I have been acting hostile towards Christian Horner, despite the fact its more like the other way around.” You shrugged.

“Right.” The interviewer shrugged. “And how might this affect your driving?”

“Well, pending the results of the investigation, they may, as a punishment, revoke my super licence.”

“So let me get this straight,” Crofty said, speaking up. “You're at risk of losing your racing licence because of you allegedly being hostile to the Team Principal of Red Bull Racing since 2019?”

I nodded.

Lance then spoke up. “I think it's suspicious that these rumours suddenly came around just after a podcast episode about some of her treatment at Red Bull and a post of her and Geri together.” He said. “It seems very strangely timed.”

“Almost like they're trying to silence her for Christian's actions.”

The drivers in the conference all started defending you, putting a smile on your face. It was sweet to see them all so defensive over you, instantly jumping to your protection without even being asked their opinions.

“It had been oddly timed.” You said. “All of a sudden, after me putting in a complaint about Christian Horner to the FIA, I was the one under investigation. I think that it's ridiculous to be honest. I provided evidence - more than enough. And yet I am still the one under fire.”

“I hear a lot of drivers and other staff are supporting you.” Crofty said. “Do you have anything to say to that?”

“Yes. I am so grateful for the way that the drivers have treated me, and other staff, both at Mercedes and other teams. I appreciate that they have been defending me to the FIA, and taking a stand with me against the unfair treatment that I have been under by Red Bull and the FIA in the past couple of weeks, and Red Bull since I joined.”

“So are you still racing this weekend?”

“No. They've told me I'm not allowed to race until the investigation is over.” you explained, frustrated.

The rest of the press conference went well and, soon, you were back in your drivers room and soon heard the door open. You looked up, seeing the drivers slip into your room. All of them.

“We're here to take your mind off of all the bullshit going on. So. We have fifa, Uno, monopoly, Mario Kart, we got your switch so you can play animal crossing if you want,” Lando began to list off everything.

You chuckled, smiling sweetly at them at the kind kind actions of going out of their ways to try to cheer you up. So that's what happened. You all sat on the floor talking, playing games, chilling out and discussing how to sort this out when Charles came up with an idea.

“A strike.”

“A what?” You looked at the Monegasque, confused at the sudden outburst.

“We could go on strike. Refuse to race until Horner is gone and the investigation is dropped.”

There were some cheers from the drivers.

“Guys. What?” You said when you saw the agreements. “You don't have to do this.” you said.

“Let's vote then.” Charles said. “All in favour?” 19 hands went up. “All against?... Then it is decided.”

After some planning, it was in order.

El Plan (2025 Driver's Strike edition)

Step One: Pack our stuff.

You all got to work, packing out bags, everything we needed.

Step Two: Prepare the vehicles.

That went by quickly too.

Step Three: Tell Our Team Principals

You walked into the emergency meeting with George and Toto, sitting down.

“What's this about? What's going on?” He asked, confused.

“We're going on Strike,” George announced.

“You're doing what?”

“This wasn't my idea,” you started. “But one of the drivers suggested a full driver Strike. Because of the investigation.”

George started explaining the details. The plan. Afterwards, there was a moment of silence.

“Fair enough,” Toto said. “I wouldn't be able to stop you and to be honest, I don't even want to. I don't want you losing your seat, Y/N. Go wild. Have fun. Call me when you're off strike and keep me updated, yes?” He said. You and George looked at each other, surprised it went so well.

Over in the Red Bull office, it wasn't going as well.

“You're doing what?” Christian snapped, angrily.

“Going on strike.” Max leant back in his chair.

“Until the investigation is dropped, we will not race.”

“This is insane! What is wrong with you?” He snapped angrily. “You shouldn't do it if you want your contract renewed, Max.”

“I'm sure there are other teams who would happily take me,” He said standing up, walking straight out the door without another word, being quickly followed by his teammate.

Step Four: Announce the Strike.

“Right, hello,” Crofty said, looking at the camera. “So, we've got a sudden broadcast request from the drivers so… that's what is happening here.”

Bernie spoke up. “We have no idea what this is about. Take it away.”

Your designated speakers - Charles and Max - stepped up to take the mics.

Max got up his script. “Today, Charles suggested something and we did a vote, getting back unanimous agreement.”

“All of the drivers on the current Formula One grid will be going on strike. None of us will drive until our demands are met.” Charles paused before speaking again. “Demand Number One: The investigation on the Mercedes-AMG Petronas driver, Y/N L/N, is dropped. The treatment she has received from both Red Bull and the FIA recently, and since 2019, has been absolutely unacceptable. They are trying to silence her and stop her from racing, so if she can not race, we will not race.” He looked at Max, nodding for him to read the next demand.

Max smiled, looking at the camera. “Deman Number Two: Christian Horner is removed as the team principal of Red Bull Racing indefinitely and an investigation is opened on Red Bull, Christian, and the head of the FIA. I should've stood up for the treatment of Y/N back in the day, and I didn't. But I will do it now. The treatment she had endured was something I would never wish on a driver. The constant hours of berating her for doing her job, and blackmailing her by threatening to reveal that she miscarried are unacceptable and they, Christian especially, should be taken into account.”

“We want to make it clear that this was not the decision or suggestion of Y/N L/N. This was entirely my suggestion, and all of the drivers instantly agreed. Do not send her hate for this. We will ensure that anyone who has attended any races or paid to attend any of the races get compensated somehow, and we will ensure that every single person who has paid to attend the races gets an apology that it has had to go this far. Action will not be taken until we make a drastic move, so this is our drastic move.” Charles then said his final sentence. “None of us will drive until our demands are met.” Charles repeated again.

-word count: around 1,300-

Hi All!!

Hope you're well. Here is a mini chapter for the Max story. Expect some drivers' strike chapters soon. This is unedited. Love you all x

Have a good day

Alocon

Taglist: @c-losur3 @itsjustkhaos @reidsworld @d3kstar @casperlikej

[celmian]

"Cooking for Alfred" Damian Wayne x OC's short fanfic.

/Adult Damian (University)

/warnings/ Dirty joke, (18+) language/

Hi, first of all this is just one of the part of the main fanfic I have been written. The oc is now dating Damian and she wants to cook for Alfred on his birthday. You can follow-up the main story in AO3. The fanfic is called 'Damian Wayne x OC : Hunting the witch'. English is not my first languages so, I hope I didn’t mess up anything.

Also, the oc name is Celine Constantine. She is John Constantine's daughter. Hope you enjoy.

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“…Celine, didn’t you used to tell me that you know how to cook?”    “Well, cooking is not baking...”    A picture of two teenagers approaching adulthood walking chaotically in the kitchen… Around the counter island there was powder and the egg panels all over were probably a strange sight that happened in Wayne Manor…a sight that Alfred Pennyworth would not have allowed to happen in normal situations because he wouldn't have to bother cleaning up the mess later. 

...but today is Alfred's birthday. 

  So Celine has a crazy idea. As a resident, she wanted to give him a surprise. So, they have Bruce take the old man into town while the two young men,Celine and Damian, prepare a homemade birthday cake for the butler. The witch Constantine claims to have worked behind the stove at Fine Dining restaurant before...Damian doesn't know in which position. But from the looks of it, she isn't a dessert chef definitely... 

“...Okay, I'm just one of those people who helps prepare the cold kitchen where they serve appetizers and such...but back when I'm in London, I always cook for myself. I just never made dessert. That’s all.” The girl immediately defended her cooking skills. “The pasta with grilled vegetables that you ate the other day was made by me...” With that, both of her hands are now placed on the hips..    “Really?”    Damian Wayne had known that his girlfriend liked to help Alfred prepare food…but he thought she might just be chopping vegetables, preparing meats, whatever like that. Instead of making her own menu like she claimed. 

…The other day, the pasta that Damian packed to eat at university for lunch was so delicious that he asked Alfred to make it a daily menu. The old man smiled suspiciously. It wasn't him who made it, but it was the witch. 

“…Shall we make pasta instead then?” the young man suggested as his head recalled the rich flavor of the fresh pasta and grilled mushrooms, he had eaten the day before…    “It's Alfred's birthday, Damian. We must make a cake...”  

“But the others will come here soon…we have to prepare other kind of food anyway. Why don't you go take care of the savory and leave me here with the cake?” Both Richard Starfire, Raven the witch, and Stephanie Brown...including Tim Drake will be here today for the old man’s birthday. So, if they both waste time on one cake, they won't get anything done into pieces. The young man waved his hand and chased his girlfriend away from his dessert making area, earning a look of pouty face from Celine Constantine. 

"..You? Are you sure you know how to bake?" The girl looked at her boyfriend's face judgmentally... 

“Better than you do.” His hand moved towards the first cake that had been baked, which was so crumbly and incomplete that the whole thing had to be thrown into the trash… Only then the black-haired witch calms down and walked away to do her own duties as well... 

A long time had passed and the whole kitchen was quiet…no sound except the sound of boiling water, the sound of beating eggs, and other sounds of cooking. Celine walked back around to find her boyfriend in the dessert kitchen area, which was also quiet. She saw him in an apron Standing and squeezing cream into a round disc of something. With diligence and expert look. The young girl watched as those slender, beautiful fingers gently put the round plates together. so, she couldn't help but tease him about how skilled he was. 

“You make macarons? Wow. I didn't know that I slept with the Master Chef of dessert every day.” ...This French dessert is so hard to make. Even Celine couldn't make it through just baking a cake...but this Baby Bat showed off his skills in making macarons? Why he’s so annoyingly talented? 

Damian didn't answer…he shook his head and wiped the sweat from his chin. That's when the young girl came to help. using the handkerchief that was placed on his shoulder to wipe away the sweat that was flowing down the small frame of his chin before smiling at the face's owner.    “..Does this mean that if we get married you will be the househusband? Hmm? Dami?” 

“Dream on.” Damian shook his head, expanding his words as he looked proudly at the work on the table. “...Housework is a duty that we must help on both sides. And I have to go to work…Father's company will soon be mine. If I only act as your butler, who will run the company? Hmm, Celine?” Those words weren't very serious... The young man kissed his girlfriend's head as a thank you for helping him wipe his face before walking off to explore the savory side..    “…You....You make a heck lot of pasta.” Deep voice hurriedly commented on the amount of fresh pasta that the young girl had prepared in a pot for the people coming to the party to eat.   “Well, don't you remember the last time Dick ate the entire pot of meatballs by himself?” Celine reminded the young man of Bruce's birthday back in the middle of the year when the eldest of the family accidentally ate a meatball that Alfred had made for everyone all by himself.  “You’re right. Richard must have eaten it all by himself.” Damian Wayne immediately agreed…he nodded before quickly helping his girlfriend clean up the kitchen. Prepare a plate for the guests who will be coming to the old butler's birthday dinner in a few hours. 

In the evening, Bruce, Alfred and Stephanie, who went to help Bruce, arrive at the manor with Damian, Dick, the two girls from Titans, and Tim Drake is waiting. Of course, Damian briefly relents with Tim to stop his eldest brother from eating all the food before the birthday owner arrives.    The old man walked into the house, filled with joy. Starfire and Raven were the ones who brought out the cake. The remaining people sang songs of blessing to the talented butler. Damian stood and applauded silently. Dick sings off-key and loses his voice as Stephanie tries to save the song from crisis but failed. And after Alfred blew out the candles, they all gathered around the grand dining table of the mansion that was full of guests today…    “..This pasta is very delicious. Miss Celine, did you do it yourself?” The old butler was happy… that today he didn't have to prepare huge quantities of food himself. But what will the condition of the kitchen be like? This is something to worry about.    “Yes.” Celine smiled as she proudly watched Richard gobble down her pasta from the pot… 

“...What about macarons? Did you make it yourself? It's just as delicious as the one my friend brought from France.” Tim tried to compliment the new girl in the Bat House that he hadn't talked to much before Damian put down his fork and a smile curled his lips. It was then that Red Robin knew exactly who the person that made this tray of macarons was. “Oh my gosh…”  Tim shook his head, his hand hurriedly put down the dessert… but after a while he reluctantly picked it up and ate it again.    “Wanna bet on who made the cake?” On Dick's side, his hand was still holding the fork around the pasta. Turning to Bruce, who had been eating quietly by himself for a long time… The Dark Knight shook his head. Looking at the large chocolate cake with candles that had been sliced ​​up by Raven and Starfire for the party. Those blue eyes looked at the cake for just a moment and then responded immediately. 

“It’s Damian, obviously.”    “But I think it’s Celine,” Dick quickly bets against…    “..Ahem, Master Bruce, Master Richard. Gambling is not a good behavior to do on this kind of celebration....”  The birthday man sitting next to Bruce couldn't help but cough after hearing that conversation… He took the cake from Starfire and held it in his hand before considering it without tasting it. “I think they both do it together.”    “Accept the bets” Nightwing gave the old man a challenging smile before turning and asking to the two young men who the winner of this bet would be… “Hey! Little D! Celine! Who made this cake?”    “It’s Damian.” …and the answer from the young witch made Alfred stunned because even though he was the one who taught Damian how to bake, he had no idea that the boy would be able to use what he had taught him to do it all by himself. Dick was annoyed but managed to get a smile from Bruce as the old butler and Nightwing took a cash from their pockets and paid the manor a bill each. 

…and soon after the cakes, pasta, macarons, and all sorts of food were eaten by the people in the house, most of whom was Dick, the guests gradually left. They left Alfred a gift. Stephanie left the baking equipment. Damian gives him a cookbook. Dick gives him a new suit. Raven and Starfire buy him a new portable oven. Bruce gave him gloves and a winter coat, but Celine unexpectedly gave the same book as her boyfriend… 

“Damn, I didn't know we were going to buy the same book... and it's the exact same one but in a different language,” the young witch complained about when Alfred has to have the exact same gifts but in difference language without nobody knowing it beforehand. “...And why are you buying a Chinese text cookbook? Shouldn't those things have to be transported by ship?” The two young men were cleaning up the house while Alfred was sent to sleep by Damian. Meanwhile, Bruce handles company work before leaving on late-night patrol. And Celine complains loudly about the gift she has just given the old butler. 

“...Chinese recipes should be read in Chinese. Do you think Pennyworth couldn’t read Mandarin?” Damian frowned at the witch's question. She usually likes to buy books about the same story but in different versions or sometimes in different languages. But today she suddenly complains to him about it… “You can't read Chinese? Can’t you?” So, the young man made this assumption.    …and damn, Damian Wayne really has good instincts for matters that don't matter. 

The girl rolled her eyes, and the young man knew immediately that she was complaining about the whole Mandarin language stuff because she couldn't read it herself…    “I swear to you. Damian…if you start speaking Chinese to me. I'm going to suck your dick until it's rotten-”    “-下流 (Xia Liu)” …and of course, the mouthy young man wasn't easily fazed by that threat. He chuckled before starting to spit Chinese at the other person after knowing that she wasn't good at it...well, he's always been like this...loves competition like a psychopath.    “坏蛋 (Huai Dan)” But then the black-haired witch immediately shot back… she put down the powder box she was holding and put it on the countertop with a look of trouble on her face amidst the young man's bewildered expression.    “..I thought you couldn't speak Chinese?”    “When did I say I couldn't speak Chinese? I just couldn't read it.”  Celine raised her eyebrows with a defiant expression on her face…    “Then from now on, I'll send you a text in Chinese-”    -wad!    And then the box of powder that had been put down in the first place flew towards Damian Wayne immediately as he continued to annoy her. The witch already knew that an ex-assassin like him would definitely be able to catch that thin cardboard box. So, she crossed her arms over her chest, as her boyfriend caught it with precision and looked towards her.    “Did you know…one of your bad habits is throwing things when you don't get what you want?” Damian had seen Celine throw a pillow or sometimes an entire cigarette box at her father...sometimes she had a good reason for doing that. Sometimes there is no reason at all. Celine Constantine was spoiled rotten by her irresponsible father. But she is a spoiled person who knows that she has a bad personality…so Damian can accept it in somewhat of of way.

Because he's like that too.    “..So? Do you want me to describe your bad habits too?” The girl folded her arms across her chest and raised her head to look at her boyfriend with another look of trouble. 

“Go on…” The young man looked at those expressions. He didn't feel annoyed. Instead, he slowly walked towards his lover... a mischievous smile tugging at the corner of his mouth as his girlfriend smiled back and knew that he was definitely going to find something to get back at her... 

“Let's start with what? The size of your dick? I think it should be illegal-”  

“-Celine, we are talking about my bad personality, not what you like but denies that you don't like...” Damian, on the other hand, quickly used his strong hands to gather his girlfriend's mischievous body into an embrace...watching her laughing, pretending to run away but not getting anywhere.    “..So... What about your competitive personality? I swear, if I say I like a horse's cock, you will definitely going to lengthen it to compete with the hoarse-” 

Phew!!    ...and Celine's foul mouth made the arrogant boyfriend unable to bear it anymore. He took the box of powder in his hand that his girlfriend had thrown and dumped it on her head. He knew that Alfred would definitely curse him if he saw the kitchen floor right now. But believe him, it was very satisfying to see a person with a good mouth become silent because of the amount of flour stuck in her throat. She choked, the powders are now all over the sweet face attached to that bad mouth... 

But Celine Constantine wasn't the type to give in even in the most demanding situations… She turned and smeared the powder on her boyfriend's face. Smeared white powder on his perfect body. Damian is inferior. His hands scooped up the powders that had flown onto the counter and threw them all over his girlfriend's face, causing a small war in the kitchen. The one that ended up with Alfred walking in… The old man wanted to come get some water to quench his thirst after waking up late at night. Before coming to see his nightmare come true. Two young people threw cooking flour at each other. Rubbing each other's hair like it was a fun idea...Even Richard, at his most naughty age, had never done anything like this before...Then both young adults get warned by Alfred. Damian Wayne, who even used to be a child with a loudmouth that caused a lot of troubles, but he never caused any mischief like this before. So, he gets warned too. 

…but hey! At least this time Celine didn't start it.    Didn’t she?            “I got 1 point, and you got 0…” 

After fighting until they both were satisfied, the two young people came to take a dip in the water to clean themselves together after the war ended before Damian had to go on patrol with his father... Celine acts like a little kid who likes to play with a duck. She lets the plastic ducky float on the water in the tub. Damian was forced to watch her play with it while having his lover sit on his lap in the tub. 

“Why did I get 0 points when I really am the one who started it?” His thin lips gently kissed the shoulder of the person on his lap. His eyes looking at his wet girlfriend, he is frowning while asking...    "..It's easy because I'm the one giving the scores." Celine pinches her boyfriend's nose at the same time as squeezing the duck in her hand...it very well triggers a feeling of annoyance from her lover. A strong hand squeezed that round cheek, causing her to scrunch up until he had to let go before the two of them could continue their war in this bathroom.    “I think Pennyworth looks very happy… I have to thanks you for organizing this event for him today.” After pounding his girlfriend's face until he was satisfied, Damian Wayne hurriedly changed the conversation to the serious subject before Celine could react… Her expressions changed and nodded her head softly. Continue squeezing the duck in her hand instead of getting revenge on Damian... probably because she was thrilled that her idea made the old man smile this much. 

“...Come on, don’t act like you guys have never done this before…” Celine pouted a little while Damian's smile twitched slightly at the corners of his mouth before he looked away. 

“Actually… Normally we are all busy that no one takes the lead in this matter. Richard and Drake would just stop by for lunch on the day. Gave things to Pennyworth and left… We never got together like this. Until you are the one who suggested it.” ...It was probably the nature of Bat House to always forget the most important matters outside of their night duties… They often forgot the daily lives of those around them. It's something that almost every Bat member been.    “..So, I'm glad you chose to be a normal person and stay here with Pennyworth.” Ever since Celine Constantine entered the mansion, things had started to change a little… Even though she is that kind of person who don't celebrate her own birthday but she did it for others. After receiving Damian's first birthday present. She organizes a party for Bruce. And this time it was Alfred. She comes from the house of an occult detective but doesn't want to continue being the occult detective. Like she knew how lonely their careers were…she chose to be a normal person and spent her time doing things that Damian and the other Bats couldn't. Both are things that John Constantine couldn't do either. 

She chooses to spend time with those who she loves.    Celine gently touched her lover's face when she heard that. Her hand slid down his face before embracing it. 

“...Don't worry. Damian…Whatever you feel like you can't do or find it difficult to do. I will do it for you. You don't have to say or express everything to me. Just be with me, be happy…and I will do whatever you want to do for you.” A sweet voice whispered softly, kissing her boyfriend's forehead once...it was a voice that the young man felt calm after listening to. It felt like he didn't have to try so hard anymore…it felt natural. That would be more accurate to say... 

…Damian Wayne closed his eyes and immersed himself in that embrace for as long as he could. 

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P.s.: Damian in this fanfic became softer after dating Celine and she moved in his manor because she decides to study at Gotham's university. Her back story made her father doesn’t celebrated her birthday because John Constantine didn’t celebrate his own birthdays too. Hopefully I will post more of them in the future.

P.s.2 : Yes, She has a foul mouthed like her dad lol

[maitimosrighthand]

[ Chapter 1: Barely Enough ]

Oc story which can be seen as a Y/N story if you simply ignore the names

It’s a 141 + Roach x reader ( male )

It’s also Omegaverse. (More info at end)

Have fun

Julie knew that this was highly weird.

Not only from his point of view.

Surely not.

But the fact that everything had been going wrong today and that he was now send someone‘s base to act as a Lawyer at around 4am was outright wrong. Not that he had slept a lot.

He was a lawyer. He did not get sleep.

Considering that he should count himself lucky that it was at 4am. So he got like…1h of sleep. He couldn’t just push it down. It was somewhat his job to defend the Military in court so that they won’t have to show their faces, but he mainly did it because of Laswell. His mom.

Thinking back he recalled her saying: „They are good people.“ That’s the only argument you got? He had wanted to say back but well… he disliked seeing Kate sad so…fuck it. The car stopped at a part of the road. You were supposed to be driven by a Shadow but you disliked them. So he took a taxi. „You sure you want to be out here?“ the driver asked before Julie simply dopend the door and paid him. With his stuff now in a case( like the ones you take in one hand) he walked the path into the woods. Directions were a bit of on occasions but none the less he soon found himself in front of a smaller base.

It was well hidden but well…he was not bad at spotting either. Julie checked one last time and the nocked at the door. Nobody answered. So he started searching for a back door. He found a hidden door in the ground. WOW how classic.

He had gone through military training once, before he decided that selling his soul and sleep to satan was a good idea. So Julie opened it, creaking loudly. „Well….“ He could have just waited at the door.

He came out in some office. Unsure of his position he did recognize a paper on the table with his name on it. *So this must be my clients room* It was nothing special. Just a room with too many shelf’s and too many paperwork that was forgotten in some corner or properly sorted into the shelf’s.

A chair and a desk in the middle. Julie had gone towards the couch and the coffee table at the left side, sitting down and waiting. *I should call Laswell* is what Julie thought before he pulled out his phone. Walking around the office and looking at the shelf’s filled with documents.

While he tried reaching the Laswell he found a strange looking profile without a picture at the front. *Mh? That’s not legal!* Going over it all with his finger and pulling out the documents, he slowly opens it. His phone forgotten somewhere on the shelf.

O

„Ghost-, Simon Riley.“ he recited while reading. He had tried to turn to the next page, before his left arm was suddenly grabbed and he practically flew to the left. The documents falling in the process.

His body hit the ground sideways, hard.

Julie hissed at the pain and when he tried to look at who did it, he was met with a punch to the gut.

1 no, 2 people were in the room. One who hit him and the other who had him now pinned down with his knee on his ribcage. Fuck he was heavy. Julie cursed in his mind. Another punch fell to his face this time, surely leaving bruises behind. Another few fell before he could even say anything.

After about 7 he was heaved up and pushed onto a chair, seeing his *friends* for the first time. They looked way to scary. „Who do you work for?“ One said threatening. Julie really tried to take this moment seriously but well: „The law? What am I supposed to say? Jesus?!“ came out groaning. Flexing the face muscles that were hit a little too hard.

The door to the office slammed open.

„Ghost! Soap! Stop beating your lawyer up!“ a voice came. It had sounded like a younger males voice.

Julie took this chance to look past them. Black, build properly. Was most likely a cop before. *Kyle* He had seen his file and the picture. His face shifted from annoyed to worried when he saw the blue spots forming on Julie’s face.

Before anyone can say anything else, Price came into the room. Julie knew him. He was send to help him. „Hi.“ Julie said flopping down onto the couch. „Hey.“ Price said before looking at the scene with confusion. His cup of coffee held in his right hand. He took a sip before he said. „So…“ „We thought he was a spy.“ Soap said fast. „Sry buddy.“ Kyle said.

Barely enough sry

„Please sit down Mister Price.“ Julie said gesturing down at the chair. Wanting to just finally start his conversation so he could get away from this place. „How did ya get‘in?“ Soap asked. „You should hide your backdoors more. Or open the door when someone knocks.“ They looked at each other. „So that is what Roach heard.“ Ghost said. „Roach? Are you an insect fan?“ Julie asked. Soap broke out into laughter.

„No. Is just our comerad‘s name.“ Soap voiced out. Julie just looked at Price. Who took one last sip of coffee. You hated that smell. Every time someone drank it in Julie’s present it would make him throw up. Lucky him that he was experienced.

„So what the thing.“

„Ghost and Soap over there decided to break into a house to get something. But they mistook it and accidentally broke into a civilians home.“ Price explained.

„It was his fault!“ Soap said, ominously pointing at Ghost. „No. You broke down the door before I could tell you the proper coordinates.“

„And let me guess they sued you now. For… warcrimes. Which would be a harsher punishment than simply paying for it.“ Julie figured putting together the pieces.

„Not just that. They also ran from the police.“ Gaz said. „An they want some justice.“

„Urhghh.“ Julie sighs. Realizing he broke out of his lawyer character he quickly sat upright again.

„Well there isn’t too much involved so this is not a problem.“ Julie stood up. „You don’t even have to be there. They have yet to say they want you in court, so I can just deal with them at their home.“

When Julie nearly opened the office door his phone rang an alarm.

„A hurricane?“ Kyle said.

Price smirked. „Guess you’ll stay here for a bit.“

Gaz( Kyle ) is an Omega

Ghost and Price are Alphas

Soap is a Beta

Alejandro and Rudy are both Alphas in love

Roach is also an Alpha

Julie ( or y/n ) is a beta ( as if. Not for long hehe)

There will be:

Rudy x Alejandro

Soap x Ghost

ghost x price

soap x Gaz

Gazx Price

Roach x Ghost

Roach x Kyle

Oc/Yn/Julie x all

[sl-newsie]

American Woman (Thomas Shelby x American OC) Ch. 36: Take Charge

Masterlist: https://www.tumblr.com/sl-newsie/739551758747090944/american-woman-thomas-shelby-x-american-oc?source=share

“Thank God, you’re staying!”

If I hear those words any longer they will become my motto. The day after Thomas visited me I got calls from everyone asking if I was still in England. Before I know it things are going smoothly as if nothing’s changed. The only reminder of Grace’s absence is when I’ll spot Thomas alone in his office, staring outside the window. I’ll prepare a small tea tray and quietly slip it on his desk before he notices. A small gesture but he’s always quick to thank me when he sees me next.

Today’s bustle seems like any other except there’s a caravan of wagons approaching. I look out the front window to see the Shelby men hopping out and gathering near the barn. Is there something I should be concerned about?

I walk up to the men as one approaches a wild horse. Cautious and quiet. They appear to be in good spirits so that takes away some worry. Thomas isn’t out yet. Finn’s busy talking with Uncle Charlie. Maybe Arthur can tell me what’s going on.

“... Need to lay low once the baby comes.”

His conversation with John makes me gasp. “Linda’s pregnant?”

Arthur turns around with a big grin on his face. “Yes!”

I’m shocked, but in a good way. “Jesus. Between you and John we’ll have kids running everywhere. Congratulations!”

“Thank you. We’re expecting around September. ‘M gonna be a dad! Me, a fucking dad!”

I clap my hands together and praise the sky. “A thousand blessings on you both!”

We all share the same thought. A new baby is what we need now to help chase away the sadness that’s plagued us. And I know Arthur is going to be a wonderful father. 

Footsteps approach and Thomas joins the party. This is strange. He’s carrying a satchel. As if he’s going camping.

“Where are you lot going?” I ask him.

“To the woods, for some hunting.”

I stifle a laugh. “Hunting? You’re joking.”

“I’m not joking,” Thomas replies and I follow him inside the barn.

“I didn’t think you’d be willing to get your hands dirty with something like that.”

Thomas leads his black steed out of the stall. “Kill a deer, kill a man. Same thing.” He pauses for a minute. “Ever heard of the Mickey Free? ‘S a bar in Boston.”

This question is out of the blue. “No. Why?”

Thomas looks to see we’re alone and leans in. “Don’t tell the others yet, but our dad just died there.”

Arthur Shelby Senior. Dead. In whatever manner of way he died I can’t gather too much sympathy for this news. He, like many others must, assumed I was playing into the Shelby charm of lust. How am I supposed to feel sorry for that? Thank God Thomas cast him out and defended my integrity.

“I’m sorry for your loss,” I finally respond.

“No need, I know you didn’t like him,” Thomas waves it off. “This hunt is to remember him, and forget him. Now you, Verena, are going back to Watery Lane before Ada accuses me of keeping you captive.”

Now it’s my turn to wave off his concern. “Oh it’s no trouble. It’s been a tad isolating but the country is a nice change from the city.”

From looking at the side of his face I see that Thomas agrees; but there’s something else he’s thinking of when I say that. Maybe he thinks he’ll never be able to truly relax while he's away from Birmingham. He mounts the steed and joins the parade of horses trotting into the woods. I give them all a wave goodbye just as they disappear behind the trees. A small men’s holiday might be just what they need.

Same filthy streets, same stuffy air. The car sent to pick me up drops me off outside the Shelby household. The driver says nothing, only helping to carry my suitcase to the door. Without the Shelbys here it feels less exciting. More empty. Once inside an unnatural silence drapes the atmosphere, that is until I hear heels clicking down the hall.

“Verena?” Polly sticks her head around the corner. “Tommy finally let you out of that place.”

I start to tell her I was there on my own free will but something about her seems off. She looks nervous. And tired. As if she’s been thinking too much. I’ve been so busy keeping watch over Thomas’ mourning that I didn’t think about reaching out to others. 

“What can I help with, Polly?” It’s a loaded question.

The older woman looks away shaking her head and walks towards the door. Is there something I should know about?

“Polly, where are you going?”

“Confession. At the church.”

“Should I come-?”

“No,” she sharply cuts me off. “I need to do this alone. Go help in the office.”

I try to follow her. “Polly, please. You don’t look well-”

Polly holds up a hand to stop me just as she shuts the door. “Do as you’re told.”

If she- But I- Oh. Okay. I can help with some paperwork. But honestly the thought of being stuck at a desk all day doesn’t seem as fetching. 

“‘S not fair,” Esme whines for the fifth time.

I was right. This is awful. I’ve been here an hour and both Lizzy and Esme are in no mood for pleasant discussion. Now I see why John was so eager to go on the trip. Esme’s current pregnancy is making her grouchy and sensitive. The only thing keeping her settled are her frequent whiffs of cocaine. And to top it off,  Lizzy’s still cross from my interactions with Thomas.

“They’re off drinking and shooting rifles as we sit here,” Esme complains. “Listening to the mugs swearing, spitting on the bloody floor for us to fucking wipe up! Without men here they’d be like dogs pissing up the wall.”

Just then the door opens and Polly walks in. I can’t tell if her stress has depleted or not. The good news is that she doesn’t want any of Esme’s attitude either.

“Esme, just… Get on with it.”

Esme groans and sniffs up more cocaine. “I’m bloody five months gone!”

I follow Polly to the safe and try to ask gently. “Polly? Do you feel better?”

She ignores me and leans her head against the safe. “Forgot the combination.”

“24-8-22,” Lizzie calls.

Polly’s just as puzzled as I am. “How’d you know?”

“Tommy talks in his sleep,” Esme pokes at her.

“Shut up, Esme,” Lizzy mutters.

Wait. Does that mean-?

Polly groans again. “He’s changed it.”

Lizzie gets up and starts fiddling with the dial. “You’ve put it in wrong.”

“No I haven’t,” Polly argues.

I step out of their way and go back to the table. This is it? Listening to them squabble while all the men are away? I actually was happier at Arrow House.

“I have been sleeping with Tommy,” Lizzie mentions. “Every now and then, when the mood takes him. Happy?”

No. I most certainly am not. I was right. While Thomas comes to me for empathetic consultations, he still doesn’t initiate physical emotions. Is May right? Does he think I’m too fragile?

“None of it’s fucking fair.” We know, Esme!

Knock knock.

Wonderful. Now who’s adding to the meeting of misery?

Linda opens the door with a bright smile on her face. “It’s me! Arthur said you’d be short-staffed today.”

She is so out of her normal standards. Linda walks around and practically scoffs at the illegal business. Her comments of purity against the company go ignored by the others. That’s it, I’m out. I’m already dealing with Lizzie’s comment. I don’t need this either.

I take an Irish goodbye and excuse myself back to the house. It may be lonely in the kitchen but at least the chicken I cook doesn’t squawk like those women do. I don’t know when the Shelbys will be back but that doesn’t mean I can’t fix a nice dinner for myself. Maybe I’ll call Ada and see if she wants company-

“There you are!” Linda walks in. “You’re coming too.”

I go back to washing dishes, uninterested. “Where?”

She comes up and slings an arm around mine, leading me away. “To the Bull Ring.”

I gawk at her bluntness. “Why?”

“To strike.”

I’m still confused. “For…?”

“Female workers’ rights. Come on, you of all people should appreciate this! You Americans had to go through tons to get the right to vote.”

“There’s a bit more to it than that-”

“Let’s go!”

She drags me out into the street to join the line of women workers marching towards the strike.

Something tells me I should go. Not for the extreme feminist cause but to be sure that no one gets hurt. Polly’s wild look in her eyes tells me her stress has melted into ambition. 

“Revolution! Now!”

I attempt to quiet her. “Polly, please! Calm down-”

“No I will not fucking calm down! We’ve been through this shit for too long!”

“Hallelujah!” Esme yells.

I knew coming back wasn’t such a grand idea.

The following morning Polly leans back in a kitchen chair with a cloth over her eyes. Clearly in a hangover. For three hours yesterday they shouted and raged against the male patriarchy. It didn’t help when people started passing around spirits.

Thud.

The front door closes and I hurry over to see if my suspicions are correct. Sure enough, Thomas is back. Maybe the fresh air did him some good.

“Morning, Thomas. About Polly- I tried to keep her safe.”

He takes a puff on his cigarette. “The strike?”

“Yes. It reminded me of women’s marches back home, but ours were a tad more civilized if you can believe it.”

He walks straight past towards where Polly and Lizzie are sitting.

“I heard you were giving speeches off the back of a wagon, Pol.”

She doesn’t move. “I can’t remember a fucking thing.”

“Well, Moss tells me you were threatening to burn down the town hall.” Thomas looks back at me. “Verena, will you please give us a moment alone?”

I have to keep my smile from falling. What? Is he upset with me? Does he think I’ll start ranting about freedom like a typical American?

“Of course, sir.”

Don’t show them disappointment. It’ll only give Linda and Lizzie more teasing ammunition against me. I retreat back to the parlor and set to dusting shelves. If I could slip out I’d properly dispose of my anger by swatting a broom against the alley wall. What am I supposed to do if you never let me in, Thomas?

“What are you doing?” 

Must have been a quick ‘moment.’ I thought for sure he’d call for Lizzie to- No. Stop right there, Steenstra. Jealousy never gets someone anywhere.

“Cleaning,” I say, keeping my face directed away from Thomas. 

“You know we can hire people to do that, right?”

I hum softly and continue wiping off the dirt. “I am hired help.”

“No. You’re not a maid, Verena. You keep us sane.” Thomas slumps into the lounge chair and runs a hand through his hair. “Fucking Russians. You will not believe the shit I went through last night.”

Again with the Russians. I warned him.

“Did the duchess try to kill you?”

Thomas rolls his eyes and glares at the wall. “Walked around practically naked in the dead of night, pointing a gun everywhere and demanding that poor Mary watches us fuck.”

My hand freezes and I slowly turn to look at him. “Y-You didn’t-?”

“No!” He quickly answers. “She- Please, please recite something clever.”

Clever? Is he using me just for my wit now? “Um- Alright. Sometimes life is like carving an apple.” Thomas’ stressed face changes to one of surprisement but I keep going. “When you find an apple with a brown spot you cut it out, right? It’s the same situation with people. We cut out the worst parts of ourselves to get along with one another.”

He thinks for a minute. “So you’re saying I should cut myself out? Just how much, eh?”

“What? No! Why would-?”

“Not everyone sees the good in people like you do, Verena.” Thomas pulls out a cigarette and stands up. “Never stop, love. Thanks by the way for keeping a watch on Polly.”

I offer a smile. “No problem. I might stop by later to see Charlie.”

The mention of his son immediately makes Thomas relax. “Right, Charlie. It’ll be nice to get some time with him. Do you need me to drive you?”

“No, no. I’ll manage. I’ve got some letters to mail first. My moeder goes crazy if I stay out of contact for more than a week.”

Thomas nods and walks out towards the door. We both know family comes first. As for his predicament with Duchess Tatiana Petrovna… It’s not my business but isn’t it a bit early to be courting after Grace’s funeral? Is this situation even a courtship at all? It doesn’t sound like Thomas initiated it. Curious, considering it’s usually the woman falling into his bed rather than her roping him in. Perhaps it’s a taste of his own medicine.

From the outside Arrow House looks as empty as before. What’s different this time is the friendly sight of Charlie and his nanny waving at me through the top window. Thomas’ car is here but there’s no sign of him at the door. Maybe he’s with the horses. I let myself in and the housekeeper immediately appears.

“Hello again, Mary. I’m here to check on Charlie.”

“Of course, Ms. Steenstra.” She leaves me to it and mutters something along the lines of “…More behaved than that other woman…”

Other woman? Who else has Thomas brought over? Does she mean the duchess? 

Instead of marching up the stairs I take a detour into the dining room, taking a seat at the head chair. The glorious portrait still hangs but instead of portraying confident power the painting resembles a man who has nothing but his horses. A lonely man.

Click click click.

“Bold of you to sit on a king’s throne.”

There she is. Duchess Tatiana Petrovna herself. That’s who poor Mary was talking about. There’s no question about her obvious beauty and she knows it. She looks down at my two hair braids with amusement. What is she here for? And is she talking about my seating choice? I meant no disrespect when I chose it.

I look down at where I’m sitting and back to her. “…It’s a chair.”

Thomas walks up behind her and sees where she’s looking. “That’s my chair. ‘S alright, you can-”

“It’s his chair,” the duchess states. “Move.”

Is she serious? Stay calm, Steenstra. You’ll only provoke her.

“It’s still just a chair, miss. He says I can sit in it.”

Her narrowed gaze doesn’t falter. “Move.”

I keep the same cool tone. “No.”

“Or else you will be moved.”

A hint of American attitude makes my face twitch into a look that dares her to continue. “Try me, duchess.”

Her jaw drops and Thomas steps forward trying to calm the storm. “Ladies, please. Mary, could we please get some tea?”

The duchess ignores his attempt and keeps looking at me. “He is your boss. You need to respect-”

“I respect Mr. Shelby just fine,” I respond evenly. “It’s you who’s out of place. You are a guest at Arrow House. I suggest you treat your host with respect. Good day.”

She resumes her stunned silence as I stand up and strut past them. Behind me I can already hear the complaining.

“…Let her speak to a Duchess like that?” she asks.

“You have your ways, the Americans have theirs. I don’t interfere.”

Just because she’s a rich duchess sleeping with him doesn’t mean she can order us around with an iron fist. I climb the stairs to Charlie’s room trying to clear the grudge from my thoughts. The bedroom door opens and the nanny steps out.

“He’s asking for his father. Shall I go fetch him?”

“Oh, no. I just saw Mr. Shelby downstairs. I’ll go get him.”

I pivot back to the stairs despite the internal urge to be as far away from the Russian royal as possible. Stay strong. It’s for Charlie. And if she wants to get on my nerves then she’ll face the bull head-on.

I see the couple walking down the hall. “Thomas! Charlie wants you.”

The gangster leader excuses himself and jogs past me, giving me a grateful nod. I take a deep breath and finish descending the stairs to where the duchess is. Time to set things straight.

“What are you doing?” 

“What do you think you’re doing?” I ask in a low but demanding voice. “The poor man just lost his wife and you’re playing him like a bitch in heat!”

She doesn’t flinch. “Grief can take many forms.”

Not Thomas. This isn’t how he grieves. He likes to be alone. 

I signal for the housekeeper. “Mary, may I please have some whiskey?”

She notices my situation and nods. “Of course, Ms. Steenstra.”

But the duchess isn’t satisfied with my request. “Why ask? Demand it! She will have-”

My face flinches to look at her with murderous eyes. “Get out. Go.”

Her jaw drops. “This is not your house-”

“Then get the fuck away from me before I do something regretful.”

Now she smirks at my temper. “Are Americans this rude?”

My fists clench. “Americans do not look down to people who are not wealthy or of royal blood.”

“There’s fire in your eyes but you tame it. Could you kill me? Would you kill for love?”

“Murder for selfish intentions is not something I will stain myself with,” I state harshly and notice Thomas returning from Charlie’s room. “Excuse me, Thomas.”

Before he can respond I rush back to the door. I don’t wait to hear any more. How can he stand this woman? Lizzie is one thing but at least she gives me a fraction of respect. Petrovna only sees me as nothing but a tourist servant. As much as I was looking forward to seeing Charlie I will not be stable as long as that woman is around. 

Foreign relations consultant, indeed. I will stand my ground. No more waiting. It’s time to take charge for a change and bring my own tricks of the trade to the table.

@meadows5