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harryspet · 10 months

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bambi eyes (1) r. cameron

[Warnings] soft!dark!rafe cameron x reader, daddy!rafe x little!reader older!rafe, crimeboss!rafe, rafe takes advantage of traumatized reader, DUBCON, dd/lg, sex trafficking, sexual slavery, sugar daddy rafe, stockholm syndrome, spoiling kink, unprotected sex, forced? age regression, little editing, 18+ READ AT YOUR OWN RISK

A/N: My first Rafe fic :)

word count: 4.4k

In which Rafe finds a "healthy" outlet for dealing with his daddy issues.

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Rafe finally felt he deserved to be back at Tannyhill. The house had remained empty over the last five years, Sarah wanted little to do with her real family anymore, Rafe made the tough decision to send Wheezie to a boarding school in Georgia and now she was starting college there. Rafe had cleaned up his act and gotten clean, mostly clean, and managed to save Cameron Development from complete ruin.

As soon as the police were off his tail, and he’d brought back some legitimacy to the Cameron name, he could develop the true relationships he needed to become unstoppable. It started with Barry, then gangsters from the mainland, and then Rafe's gained connections with the cartels. He then rebuilt the empire the Camerons once had in the Bahamas and now he owned ten times the amount of properties they used to own there.

He could achieve everything Ward never could have. He could be better a man than his father ever could.

After half a year in Nassau, Rafe was finally back in Kildare, and he had plans to make Tannyhill the ultimate fortress. He had finally acquired the last missing piece of his American dream – you. He eyed you in his rearview mirror, passed out in the backseat of his truck, before parking in front of the huge, white house.

There were already white moving trucks parked nearby, men in black clothing unloading new furniture he’d purchased and “merchandise” he’d acquired from the Caribbean Don he’d been working with. That Don is who he purchased you from, picking you out in a lineup of twenty girls.

The Don clapped his hands together before he said, “Just tell me which ones you would like to have a closer look at. I’ll have them stand and turn for you. If you have something in mind — perhaps a certain skin tone, curviness, hair color, I can make a suggestion.”

Rafe responded that he didn’t have a preference and that he would know you were the one when he saw you.

Looking through one-way glass, Rafe noticed aspects of each girl, including the tiredness behind their eyes and the elegance at which each of them moved their bodies. The Don had each girl stand and spin for him. There was not a single falter or misplaced step until Rafe saw you. When it was time for you to spin, you almost tripped over your own foot. You fixed yourself quickly and fixed your gaze forward however, Rafe noticed your eyes began to wander. It felt like you were looking right at him. Like you could see him.

“One of my favorites,” He said in thick Creole, “She’s quite an angel if you’re looking for someone who’s a little tamer. Good hips, natural hair, the breasts and ass are real too. I’m sure you’ll notice. For you, since you’re a friend, fifteen thousand for the whole night.”

The Don wanted Rafe to become a new investor in his trade and possibly bring girls to Kildare in order to expand his clientele. He wanted to impress Rafe, and let him have a night with one of his well-trained girls, although Rafe was looking to make a final purchase.

He hadn’t had a real conversation with you yet, he was in such a hurry to get back to the States that he had to keep you drugged for the time being. It would be better this way, he convinced himself, since he would be able to have the house ready before you came to. He got out the truck before opening the back door. Although you stirred slightly in your sleep, Rafe knew he wouldn’t wake you as he pulled you across the seat and wrapped you in his arms. Bridal style, he carried you up the patio and through the front doors.

An elaborate security system now kept track of everyone coming and going from the house. He had so much more than his father ever would have, but that also meant he had so much more to lose. He was a different man than the last time he was here. Much more mature. He used to throw meaningless parties so he could appear well-known, favorited by all, and hook up with girls who only cared about getting free drugs from him. This time things would be different.

“Hey, hey, careful with that!” Rafe barked at one of the men carrying a white tea table that he’d spent thousands on. He was attempting and failing to carry it and the two matching chairs that it came with. Rafe should’ve known what quality movers he was getting when he let Barry put his men on the job, “You think I’m paying you to break my shit?”

Rafe carried you up the winding stairs of his childhood home, imagining you feeling like this place was yours, just as much as he did. He thought he’d feel slightly more melancholy, looking at the familiar yellow walls, the elegant chandeliers, and period furnishings. Instead, he felt a weight lifted off of him. Your bedroom was one of the old guest rooms, only a few doors down from the master, and unlocked with his fingerprint.

The large room was freshly painted white, a twin-sized canopy bed was placed on the farthest wall, and Rafe placed you on top of the cloud-like comforter. You were still wearing one of his button-ups and a pair of his briefs that fit you more like shorts, Rafe not having had the time to dress you in the way he actually wanted to.

“Put it over in that corner, carefully,” He spoke to the mover carrying the table, although his eyes were focused on you.

“Mr. Cameron-”

“You’re dismissed. Tell Barry I’m expecting him tonight at nine.”

As the man turned to leave, Rafe quickly followed to shut the door behind him. He took another glance around the room, deciding that the table set was the perfect edition. He could bring you your breakfast there in the morning and, who knows, maybe you’d come to like the expensive tea set he also bought you.

Rafe spent a good amount of time just watching you sleep and obsessively thinking about what might he say to you when you awoke. His anxious thoughts didn’t go away when he stopped doing drugs, they worsened in fact, but you were his new medium to focus on. You were healthy for him.

He spent all the time he had between his meeting with Barry, caring for you, “Daddy’s going to take care of you,” He brought you to the bathtub and gently scrubbed you clean, shaving all the areas he preferred to be hairless, even taking the time to braid your hair so that it was out of your face. He quite liked you like this, like his very own doll, someone he could mold into a perfect Kook princess. Women in the real world often perplexed him, especially women like Sarah, who took the luxuries they were provided for granted.

You’d appreciate everything that Rafe could offer you, he knew that, and you’d be obedient as well. He brought you back to the main room once you were dried, and clean and your skin was moisturized and scented with vanilla. He laid you on the soft carpet in front of your bed and dressed you in a white nightgown and then took his time rolling white knee socks up your leg.

He could take his time, pacing himself, as he ran his fingers over every inch of you. He’d been rock hard ever since he undressed you originally, and he debated whether to take a quick sample of you.

You have plenty of time, Rafe, he reminded himself.

His phone vibrated a short while later after he tucked you back into bed, and he clicked the notification. Video of the driveway appeared on the screen, and Rafe saw Barry climbing from his car, “Daddy will be back very soon,” He spoke although you couldn’t hear, placed a kiss on your forehead although you couldn’t feel it, and shut the door quietly although you wouldn’t wake.

As soon as Rafe opened the front door, Barry was already shouting, “Country Club! How you been, man?” Rafe’s hand was already out to shake his. Truthfully, and sadly, Rafe would consider Barry his oldest friend. “You happy about all the money I’ve been making you?”

“Thrilled,” Rafe spoke sarcastically, leading Barry to his father’s old office. He thought back to the days when he had to creep through this room and steal because Ward didn’t trust him. Now, it was all his, “Speaking of …”

Swiftly, Barry pulled a roll of hundred-dollar bills from his pocket and dropped it in Rafe’s hand. Leaning against the oak desk, Rafe began to count, “That’s what I got for the boats. Those cars are going to take a little bit longer to sell.”

“And why’s that?”

“Those cars are classics, man, so I have a little bit of a bidding war going on,” Barry explained.

“I said I wanted them moved quickly,” Rafe sighed. He needed to get rid of as many of his father’s old things as possible if he wanted this place to be really his.

“I’ll get you everything by the end of the week,” Rafe nodded, continuing to flip through the bills, although normally this would be about the time he’d throw a tantrum, “So … heard you got yourself a beautiful girl-”

“Your guys run their mouths.”

“But it’s true?” Barry flashed his gold tooth, “You whipped, Country Club?”

Rafe opened the safe behind the tall bookcases, punched in the code, and safely tucked away the twenty-thousand dollars.

“Don’t worry about it, I wouldn’t let you anywhere near her anyways.”

Barry scoffs, “That breaks my heart, Rafe. I’m tired of these Pogue girls and the mainland chicks are even worse. In the old days, we used to share. You won’t help a brother out?”

Rafe smirked, “Like you said, that was the old days.”

You felt weighed down by whatever you were lying underneath, your eyelids were so heavy it took you a full minute to blink them open. You moved each limb slowly, trying to get blood flowing through them again. You saw sunlight reflecting off porcelain walls and felt creamy soft blankets enveloping you. You should feel comforted.

Pushing away the blankets holding you down, you pulled yourself up, strong enough to get onto your hands and knees. You stepped off the platform, off the bed, touching your toes against soft carpet but quickly your legs gave out. You whined as your knees hit the ground, surely bruising your skin, and let yourself fall back on your bottom.

Something fell down with you and turning your head slightly you found a teddy bear. You grabbed it by its arm, examining its chestnut fur and the pink bow tied around its neck. What? That was the question forming in your mind. You looked back at the bed you’d fallen out of and your eyes darted around the room. Three doors, a wall with big windows and long curtains, a table with chairs, a toy chest, a tall armoire, and a bookcase. This room did not belong to you, even in your wildest dreams, you’d never been somewhere so nice.

You noticed details in the wallpaper; small pink flowers decorated each wall, and white trim lined all the edges. All the furniture was white as well with elegant designs, and your original thought was that you must be in a castle.

You attempted to stand again and managed to get straight up on your wobbling legs until there was a small click, and the door began to open. You quickly stumbled back before you were sitting back on top of the mattress.

“You’ll go with Mr. Cameron now. To America,” Master said, “And you’ll remember your manners, won’t ya? Don’t want to end up like your friend.”

Mr. Cameron stood in front of you now. You remembered him being tall, but you didn’t remember feeling so small in front of him. With hands holding a tray in front of him, his mouth parted as his blue eyes raked over your figure.

You gripped the comforter tightly as he stepped closer, “You’ll have to take it easy,” He said first, walking over to that small table and placing the tray down, “Let me help you.”

When he came towards you, he held out both of his hands. You felt like you usually did, terrified, but there was always a voice in the back of your head telling you to obey. There would be worse pain than a bruised knee if you didn’t do as Mr. Cameron said. You grabbed ahold of his hands, allowing him to help you up before his hands moved to your hips as he steadied you.

“How do you feel?” He asked, a genuineness in his tone that you weren’t expecting.

Your lips parted and you realized you hadn’t spoken in so long. You also hadn’t had anyone ask you that question in a long, long time, “I’m … okay,” You spoke quietly as he searched your face. He was staring so intently that you grew insecure, turning your eyes away.

“I brought breakfast,” He began to guide you over to the table. You took slow steps, one in front of the other, holding onto him tightly when you felt you might fall. He set you gently down in the chair before taking the seat opposite you. You could see out the windows from this seat, your eyes finding a long dock and the ocean. When he cleared his throat, your eyes snapped back to his, “I’m not much of a cook but there’s a lady who works for me …she makes great pancakes, french toast, anything you could want really.”

You stared down at scrambled eggs, sausage, toast, and a pancake with a chocolate chip smiley face and a whipped cream nose. He started to pour you a glass of water, pushing it towards you, “Drink something,” He said, “You’ve been sleeping for a long time.”

You were really thirsty, you realized, and you took the glass he poured for you. When he didn’t pour himself one, a question rose in your mind, “Will this … make me sleep again?”

He immediately shook his head, “No, no. Drink, please.”

You were thankful, welcoming the nourishment. As you devoured the glass of water, he began to cut up the pancake into small pieces. You watched his concentrated face as he meticulously poured the syrup. Your mind didn’t stay on his interesting behavior because you were focused on eating next.

“My name is Rafe,” He said, “But you’ll call me Daddy.”

You paused, your mouth full of pancakes, “Okay? Nod yes if you understand,” He added.

You nodded your head, starting to chew again, and a smile seemed to pull at his lips. That’s what he must like all his girls to call him. “Good, that’s rule number one …This is your room, from now on. I’ll show you around the house after you settle in more. For now, you need permission to leave this room. Yeah?”

Again, you nodded, before swallowing your food. Rafe reached across the table with a napkin, wiping syrup from your chin, “I’m sorry,” You said, feeling embarrassed.

“No need to apologize,” He assured you, “From now on, I’m going to take care of you.”

Take care of you. You weren’t positive about what he meant.

Your hands moved to your lap, “Can I ask … how many girls you take care of?”

His head tilted, and he seemed amused, “Just you, sweet girl.”

“This whole room is just for me?”

“Yes, and this whole house will be just for us,” He answers, “Here, that reminds me. I was going to wait until dinner but . . . I can’t wait.”

You watched as he reached into the pocket of his khaki pants, pulling out a silver necklace with a beautiful, pearl pendant. Still, you found yourself struggling to wrap your head around what was going on. Rafe stood, coming closer in order to put the necklace around your neck. You heard a small click before Rafe pulled his fingers away. Your fingers reach up to feel the pearl, “You’ll always keep this on. Okay?”

You nodded.

“Tell me.”

“I’ll always keep it on … Daddy,” You remembered to add. Something lit up in his eyes, and he took your chin in his hand and tilted it up further.

“Smart girl, Bambi,” He stated, “That’s what I’ll call you.”

You nodded, although you weren’t sure why he picked it for you. It was better than “whore” or “slut” which seemed to be Master’s favorites. Bambi sounded … cute, which certainly wasn’t a way you would describe yourself, “Daddy … why …all of this, uhm, for me?”

“You’ll have everything I want you to have. And Daddy wants the best for you, understand?”

“Y-Yes, uhm … thank you.”

“C’mere, let me give you a tour of the room” He gripped underneath your arms, helping you stand. The human closeness, his warmness, wasn’t something you were expecting. You couldn’t fully let your guard down though, you were still waiting for the other shoe to drop.

“It’s good to have, uh, a routine,” Rafe explained, before showing you every item in the room. He clearly had been involved in picking everything out which you didn’t expect, “You’ll wake up by eight, make your bed every morning. . . your dirty laundry will go here and all your clothes are in here, if I have something specific picked out for you to wear, I’ll hang it here, you won’t wear any panties when you’re dressing for bed …and here’s the bathroom,” When you saw yourself in the mirror for the first time, your eyes widened in disbelief. Your hair was neatly braided, white bows wrapped at the end of each braid, and the nightgown made you look like . . . a doll. In the mirror, you could see Rafe lean his mouth down to your ear, “Do you like what you see?”

“I look …I think I look pretty, Daddy.”

“You do, sweet girl; that’s why I chose you.”

This was right. Rafe couldn’t have made a better decision choosing you. He had more rules to introduce you to but didn’t want to overwhelm you. He left you to brush your teeth while he took your tray of food back to the kitchen. When he returned, he found you peeking inside the toy chest, letting the top shut a little too loudly after he seemed to frighten you, ‘It’s okay, all these things are for you. I wasn’t exactly sure what you might like.”

He kneeled down with you as you took a look inside. There were quite a lot of stuffed animals, some puzzles, coloring sets, and some dolls. “My, uh, my sister Sarah, she used to love American Girl dolls. Have you ever heard of those?” You shook your head, picking up one that was dressed like an 80’s aerobic instructor, “They have all types of dolls. I should order you one that looks more like you.”

Rafe noticed you perk up at that. “One that looks like me?”

Your reaction made him chuckle, “Yeah, why not? If you want anything at all, you can just ask me,” Rafe could tell you didn’t believe him, although you still nodded in agreement, “I know you can’t be entertained forever by these things, but it’s better for your brain than watching TV all day. And we can watch movies together.”

“That would be nice-” Rafe leaned in to kiss you, his intrusive thought winning after staring at your lips. Rafe was surprised by how gentle it was and how gentle he still wanted to be with you. You were reacting so well to everything, he didn’t want to take the chance of ruining this. When he pulled away, you immediately started to lift your nightgown, attempting to expose yourself to him.

“You don’t have to do that,” Rafe gently grabbed your hand, pulling it away from your dress.

“I thought you wanted me …”

“ I do, I definitely do,” Rafe laughed awkwardly, “Let’s wait a little while longer. I want to undress you myself.”

You nodded eagerly, “But I … I could use my mouth?”

Rafe couldn’t believe someone could sound so innocent even while they were offering to give a blowjob, “Not before I taste you first, sweet girl.” Sexually, Rafe liked to be in complete control. He’d decide when they were ready, what positions, and who tasted who. His mind was starting to wander a little too far. He needed to remain composed for the time being, “For now, I want you to play. I need to work for a few hours, but I will bring you lunch, and we’ll eat together, okay?”

“Okay…thank you, Daddy,” You agreed, and Rafe happily placed a kiss on your forehead.

“You’re welcome, Bambi.”

Rafe tried to concentrate on work, he had a million things to arrange now that he was back in Figure 8, but his eyes would wander to the live footage on his computer screen from Bambi’s bedroom. She spent a while going through the toys he bought for her, and then she neatly made up the bed, before deciding on the American Girl dolls. Next thing Rafe knew, he was in virtual meeting with his Cameron Development team but was actively scrolling through the American Girl doll website in another tab.

Like he promised, Rafe took a break in the middle of the day to each lunch with you. Lana, Tannyhill’s newest household manager, prepared grilled sandwiches. Rafe joined you by the window seat where you had made yourself comfortable with two of the dolls and your teddy bear. You asked about Figure 8, of course, and Rafe gladly gave you the basics.

That night, after dinner was enjoyed, Rafe laid beside you in bed. You chose a book to read together, a chapter book called Bridge to Terebithia, “I have to admit, I’m not much of a reader. But this should be easy enough, right?”

“When you were little, did you always have …this?” You asked, a few pages of reading later, “Books and clothes and seats by the window.”

“I guess I did, yeah,” Rafe answered, “It was not all rainbows and sunshine, though.”

“Your father, was he like Master?”

“Yeah, basically. He was not a good man,” Rafe closed the book, turning his eyes to you “And he’s not your Master anymore, okay? It’s me and you now. Just me and you.”

You tilted your head, nuzzling more into the pillow, “If I’m bad, you won’t send me back?”

“No, not ever,” Rafe said steadfastly.

“You’ll punish me?”

Your words made him pause, and he could sense your worry, “I’m not going to hurt you, not in any real way,” Rafe’s hands found your waist, he gripped the bare skin beneath your nightgown, before his fingers roamed over your bottom, “You know how to be a good girl, right?”

You nodded, staring back, “Then you have nothing to worry about,” Rafe kissed you again, this time deeply and with the purpose of fully tasting you. He squeezed your bottom tight, pulling your front further against him so he could buck his hips against you. The book fell unread and to the wayside as Rafe roamed his hands over you.

He should wait, he told himself. It was only your first day here, but you were all that he had been waiting for. The idea that he could have you anytime, anywhere, and anyway he wanted you excited him more. A moan escaped you, and Rafe knew you were overwhelmed with the sensations, but he liked the idea of you feeling too much. He wanted fear in your eyes, fear that you wouldn’t be able to take him, and then he wanted you to fully surrender to him.

Rafe buried his face in your neck, kissing and sucking until you cried out. Rafe knew you were a good girl because you had obediently gotten into bed for the night without your panties. He wrapped a strong arm around your back, easily flipping you onto your back. Rafe pulled away, breathing heavily, as he looked down at you.

“You okay, sweet girl?” Rafe asked, noticing your eyes were still closed. As you nodded, Rafe said, “Open your eyes for me.”

Rafe parted your legs further, reaching down to feel between your lips. Gently, he stroked up and down, feeling wetness at your entrance, “Tell Daddy how you like it.”

“I . . .” As he dipped a finger inside, your eyes shut again, squeezing tightly. This was a look of pleasure, Rafe noted, “Daddy-ah!”

“I think you want it gentle, hmm,” His index finger moved in and out slowly as his thumb caressed your clit, “I can be gentle, don’t worry.”

Rafe moved painfully slow, watching how every movement of his would change your facial expression. Once you were squeezing around his fingers and soaking the sheets, Rafe pulled down his sweatpants. He pressed his length against your entrance, watching your face as he pushed inside. You took a breath of air, your mouth forming an “o” shape as he slowly eased his way in and out.

He pressed his body closer to you, your arms instinctively wrapping around his back, and he tucked his head beside yours, his breath caressing your ear. He was gentle like he said, but he had to test your limits and see how deep he could go. Your whimpers told him what he needed to know and he felt your nails begin to dig into his back.

“Daddy, d-daddy, daddy,” You moaned his name, sounding a bit delirious as you repeated it over and over.

Rafe rocked harder against you, “Tell me. Say thank you for saving me Daddy.”

“Thank you–” Your voice came out barely above a whisper but Rafe could hear your small voice in his ear, “Thank you for saving me, Daddy.” Your hips writhing beneath him, needing more of him, was the final thing that sent Rafe flying towards the edge of the cliff.

He wanted to focus, to make himself last longer, but he needed you in that moment. His thrusts became shorter, and he sank deeper inside of you as he reached his peak, “Jesus,” Rafe gasped as you squeezed him tightly, your warmness pulsed around him, “Fuck.”

He resisted his desire to stay inside of you forever, pulling out and slumping beside you. Rafe’s eyes were wide, and he found himself staring at the ceiling for a moment to process what happened.

“Was that . . . good?” Your voice brought him back down to reality.

“Perfect, sweet girl,” Rafe took you in his arms, and you cuddled into his chest. Again, he whispered, “Jesus.”

Please let me know what your thoughts and predictions are! Reblog with a comment to be added to my taglist!

Part 2

#dark fic #rafe x reader #rafe obx #rafe cameron #outer banks #dark!rafe cameron #black!reader #rafe cameron x black!reader #rafe cameron smut #obx fic #outer banks smut #barry outer banks #rafe smut #rafe fanfiction

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theyluvkarolina · 4 months

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౨ৎ TOUCH TANK ౨ৎ

masterlist / rules / requests & talks with me!

SUMMARY౨ৎ Being a single mother after your ex broke things off after your daughter was born was hard, especially with your busy schedule. But with Daniel being there for every step of the way and becoming a father figure for your daughter, you wouldn’t change anything. That was until new fans began to attack you for being wwith him and how he deserves someone who isn’t “ruined”. But Daniel reassures you he wouldn’t be the one to change anything.

PAIRING ౨ৎ Daniel Ricciardo x Fem!Mom!Reader

WARNINGS ౨ৎ kids, self doubt and insecurity (turns to comfort), small hate from weirdos online, intoxication (nothing bad happens!! just a bit tipsy). (Reader is in late 20’s early 30’s!! No confirmed age)

A/N ౨ৎ i never wrote for danny before, and i’m trying to improve my other writing skills!

PS. “Touch Tank” is about finding a partner that loves you no matter what you look like and loves you for you 🩷

1K EVENT MASTERLIST

INSTAGRAM

y/n_l/nredbull ✔︎

liked by maxverstappen1, danielricciardo, redbullracing and others!

y/n_l/nredbull fun never ends in miami! 🌞 congrats to my boys, @ landonorris for winning his first ever f1 race, and my baby girl for winning her first karting race! they grow up so fast 🥹

2,389 comments

username1 STOP IT NOT LITTLE VIVVY AND LANDO GETTING THEIR FIRST WINS BOTH IN MIAMI :((

username2 NOT BECAUSE THE WAY SHE WAS JUMPING UP AND DOWN IN THE RED BULL GARAGE SEEING LANDO WIN 😭🩷

danielricciardo ✔︎ Vivvy is all grown up now 🥲 so happy i got to watch her win her first karting race ❤️

→ y/n_l/nredbull ✔︎ are we going to ignore how you tried like a baby when she held her little trophy? → maxverstappen1 ✔︎ video evidence??? 👀 → y/n_l/nredbull ✔︎ sorry max, but i won’t expose the loml like this (i’ll show you it later) → danielricciardo ✔︎ this is still my replies you know 🙄 → y/n_l/nredbull ✔︎ it wasn’t me it was vivvy that wrote that → danielricciardo ✔︎ yes because Vivvy knows that your password on your phone is the year we meet. → username3 daniel being there for Vivvy and y/n since her douche of a ex left her is my roman empire. → username4 no because the way he stepped up and basically said “you’re not gonna the father in her life? fine, i’ll be it then.”

danielricciardo ✔︎ …questioning those last few photos… 🤔

→ y/n_l/nredbull ✔︎ why?? they are perfection 😞 → maxverstappen1 ✔︎ perfection is a bit of a over statement…

landonorris ✔︎ thanks mum 😋

→ y/n_l/nredbull ✔︎ anything for my son ❤️ → username5 isn’t he like two years younger than you?? → landonorris ✔︎ no i was actually birthed from her daniel has proof → danielricciardo ✔︎ don’t drag me into this. → landonorris ✔︎ okay daddy 😏 → danielricciardo ✔︎ i’m reporting to hr i feel like i need a trusted adult → username6 daniel, you are a trusted adult??? bro is 34 😭 → danielricciardo ✔︎ @ y/n_l/nredbull help me i’m being harassed by people other than vivvy and lando

username7 hey!! i’m now to f1, can anyone explain how daniel, y/n, and vivvy came to be??

→ username8 y/n and daniel met when he was still in redbull and she’s (still) a engineer! they became really good friends while daniel was there and liked y/n but she was in a relationship with a asshole that i won’t spare the details of. He cheated on her multiple times and y/n decided to cut the ties with him once Y/N ended up having Genevieve (Vivvy/Viv). Daniel was there for Y/N and Vivvy and basically stepped up as a father figure to Vivvy growing up and they began dating and here we are now!! → username9 stop that is so sweet 😭😭 → username10 idk it just feels like she was using danny to get viv to have a father in her life → username11 okay @ username10 lets just forget that daniel liked y/n for YEARS and let’s just think that y/n has no job for FUCKING REDBULL and was begging daniel to take her and viv in!!

danielricciardo ✔︎

📍 Miami

liked by charles_leclerc, maxverstappen1, y/n_l/nredbull

danielricciardo not my best race, but happy to have my good luck charms here ❤️ (congrats to laaaaannnndooooo noooooorriiiiissss for his first win)

tagged; y/n_l/nredbull

2,864 comments

username12 daniel avacodo come back is coming guys dw

→ username13 that’s what we said last year 😞

username14 HELLO THE Y/N PHOTO???

username15 MOMMY? SORRY. MOMMY? SORRY. MOMMY?

landonorris ✔︎ my eyes have been blinded by the most unthinkable photo you can show of my adoptive mother.

→ danielricciardo ✔︎ if I can see how fine she is, so does the whole world 🥴

username16 girlie is smart AND fucking hot???

→ username17 milf fr → username18 i love women in stem 😩

username19 damn how did daniel bag such a fine woman

→ username20 fine woman?? homegirl has stretch marks and looks like she hasn’t had sleep in days. she’s lucky daniel posted a good photo of her → username21 he could choose anyone but he choose the woman that only picked him so her kid has a father 🤢 → username22 shaming a MOTHER who BIRTHED A CHILD for how she looks like and saying that she doesn’t lover her partner is the lowest of the lows.

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Real Life

Miami, also known as the Magic City, is a place where the excitement never stops, and the nightlife is always lively. The city is filled with vibrant clubs where the music never seems to quiet down, and the clinking of glasses creates its own unique rhythm. In honor of the race in Miami and Lando's first win, the entire grid decided to gather at a well-established, extravagant club.

To be completely honest, nightclubs were never your cup of tea. The deafening noise, pulsating music, and perspiring individuals dancing into the early hours of the morning, not to mention the sticky floors from spilled drinks, never really appealed to you. When you were pregnant with Vivvy, being able to use the "I'm pregnant" excuse was a blessing, but now, you find yourself preparing to accompany the other drivers' girlfriends for a so-called "girls' night" at the same club.

Lately, the comments people have been leaving on your feeds getting on your nerves. About being manipulative to Daniel for only using him for Vivvy to have a father in her life, to get that you are "too old" for him, even receiving comments that you don't deserve to be with him because you weren't "up to the standards of other men in Formula 1" which were repulsive, to say the least, but... now those thoughts began to consume your mind. As you glanced in the mirror, your eyes trailing over each curve of your body, the wrinkles of your face-

"What's all this?" a voice interrupts your thoughts, and you look up to see Daniel, wearing a smirk on his face as he leans against the bathroom door.

You let out a sigh, trying to hide the scowl you were giving yourself. "The girls managed to convince me to join them for the night. They kept insisting that I need to let loose and have some fun," you explain, adjusting your lip liner.

"Maybe they're right. You sound like a grandma," Daniel teases, and you raise an eyebrow in response. "I'm just saying that maybe it would be good for you. Relax, spend some time with the girls," he adds, offering a supportive perspective.

"What about you? Are you going to go and hang out with Max and the others?" You questioned, turning over to look at him, your eyes meeting his chocolate brown ones. Daniel shook his head.

"Not tonight. " He comments with a slight shake of his head, curls bouncing. "Besides, it's your time to have fun, and who'll look after Vivvy?"

"Danny, you aren't obligated to-"

"I know. But I'm the one that wants to spend time with her." Daniel reassures. You smile at him before turning back to the mirror. A slight frown forms on your lips the more you look at your reflection.

"What's with that frown?" Daniel's smile shifts as he sees you look over each crevasse of yourself as he walks over and wraps his arms around your waist.

"Can I ask you something?" You start, placing your hands over his, caressing your thumb over his hand.

"Anything."

"Why me? You... you have anyone you can choose from, Danny. Those models that come knocking at your door at any opportunity, the actresses, the singers, all these beautiful women that have it all and are stunning. And everyone says how perfect they are for you... so, why me?"

"Y/N... look at me," Daniel says, turning you to face him. "I chose you because-"

Before Daniel can respond, the doorbell rings and the bathroom door swings open, Vivvy excitedly rushes into the bathroom, socks sliding on the tile and eventually bumping into Daniel's leg. "Mommy! Aunt Kelly is here, and Miss Alexandra, and Miss Rebecca, are here! They're waiting for you! Oh, and they brought presents!" she exclaims, her eyes sparkling with excitement, as Daniel picks her up, securing her in one arm.

"Well, it's rude not to say hello, right? Come on!" Daniel grins at her, using his other to ruffle her head. Vivvy let out a squeal along with a "Danny! Stop it!" leaving her lips with some giggles. You quickly put on some lipgloss before rushing out to meet everyone else.

"Guys, you didn't have to get anything-" You start as Vivvy reaches out for the gift from Rebecca, but she quickly shoots it down.

"Oh please Y/N, it's nothing! Besides, we love Vivvy! It's hard to not get anything for her when she looks at us with those big eyes..." Rebecca explained, beaming from ear to ear as she fixed Vivvy's hair after being messed up by Daniel. You exhaled, Rebecca's bright expression beginning to make your own eyes crinkle.

"Alright, Danny, no sweets before bed, be sure she brushes her teeth, and-"

"Make sure she gets in bed before 8:45. I know, I know. It's nothing new." Daniel replies, rolling his amber eyes in a joking manner. The girls begin saying goodbye, stepping back outside the door, but Daniel grabs your hand making you pause.

"We'll talk about that question later. Okay?" He says, making you blink. "Now go have fun."

You quickly give Vivvy and Daniel a kiss, the door closing.

"Well, Vivvy, it's just you and me now. Let's get this movie night started."

"Yay!"

· . ୨୧⭒๋࣭ ⭑

"Hey, Danny?" Vivvy's voice interrupts Daniel as they both sit on the couch, movie playing in the background.

"Yes, Vivvy?" Daniel turns to look at her, his eyes filled with warmth and affection.

"Do you love Mommy and me?" Vivvy's innocent question catches Daniel off guard, but the shock in his eyes soon turn to tenderness as he takes a moment to formulate his response.

"Of course, I love you both very much," Daniel replies, his voice filled with sincerity and love. "You and your mommy mean the world to me." Vivvy smiles contentedly, snuggling into her blanket as she listens to Daniel's reassuring words.

“Did i ever tell you on how we met?” He questions, moving her little strands of hair away from her face.

“A lot.” Vivvy mumbles, voice muffled from the soft material she’s clinging to.

“Well, how about I start from the very beginning?”

“Not again…”

IMESSAGES

Real Life

As the night wore on, the club's vibrant atmosphere seemed to seep into your very bones. Despite your initial reluctance, the pulsating music and the infectious energy of the girls pulled you in. Kelly, Alexandra, and Rebecca kept you on the dance floor, and you found yourself laughing more than you had in a long time. Drinks were shared, stories exchanged, and for a few hours, you forgot all about the comments and the insecurities that had been weighing you down.

But now, as you stumbled through the front door of your home, the effects of the night were starting to catch up with you. The room swaying slightly, and you had to steady yourself against the wall. The house was quiet, except for the soft hum of the television coming from the living room. You made your way toward the sound, the familiar warmth of the home drawing you in.

Daniel was on the couch, a sleeping Vivvy curled up next to him, her little head resting on his lap. He looked up as you entered, a gentle smile spreading across his face.

"Hey, there you are," he said softly, careful not to wake Vivvy. "Did you have fun?"

You nodded, the room still spinning a bit. "Yeah, I did. But I think I might have had one too many drinks." You giggled, trying to keep your balance as you approached the couch.

Daniel chuckled, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "Sounds like a successful girls' night."

You plopped down next to him, your head resting on his shoulder. "It was. But... Danny, can I ask you something?" Your voice unsteady slightly, due to the mix of alcohol and lingering doubt.

"Of course," he replied, turning to face you, his expression becoming serious as he sensed the change in your tone.

You took a deep breath, the question that had been haunting you slipping out before you could stop it. "Do you really love me? Even though I have Vivvy and... I'm not as young or as glamorous as those other women you could be with?"

Daniel's eyes softened, and he reached out to gently cup your face, his thumb brushing your cheek. "Y/N, I love you more than anything. And Vivvy... she's not just your daughter, she's our daughter. You two are my family."

"But all those people say—" you started, but Daniel cut you off with a gentle kiss, silencing your doubts.

"Don't listen to them," he whispered against your lips. "They don't know us. They don't know how much you mean to me, how much Vivvy means to me. You're the one I chose, and I wouldn't trade you for anyone in the world."

Tears welled up in your eyes, but they were tears of relief and happiness. "Thank you, Danny. I needed to hear that."

He pulled you into a tight embrace, holding you close. "Anytime. Now, how about we get you to bed?"

You nodded, feeling a sense of peace wash over you. As Daniel helped you up and guided you to the bedroom, you glanced back at the couch where Vivvy was still sound asleep. Your heart swelled with love and gratitude.

"Goodnight, Vivvy," you whispered softly.

Daniel smiled as he tucked you into bed, his fingers brushing a strand of hair from your face. "Goodnight, Viv," he said, pressing a tender kiss to your forehead before leaving to get Vivvy into her own bed.

As you drifted off to sleep, the lingering doubts and insecurities melted away, replaced by the comforting knowledge that you were exactly where you were meant to be – in the arms of the man who loved you and the family you had built together.

#☆ﾟ user ↳ theyluvkarolina ◝#f1 x reader #f1 fanfic #formula one x reader #f1 imagine #f1 smau #formula one x you #formula 1 x reader #formula one imagine #formula one imagines #formula 1 #formula one #f1 fic #daniel riccardo x reader #daniel ricciardo #max verstappen #lando norris

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heeseungiez · 2 months

Text

» XO, Miss Decelis

pairings! rich kids!hyung line x fem!reader, choi yeonjun x fem!reader briefly synopsis! perfection used to be all you strove for, keeping everything that didn't fit the image a secret from the world, but an accident that nearly took your life made you reconsider what kind of person you truly wanted to be... warnings! smut (mdni! 18+), mentions of bullying, joking about past trauma to cope, angst, jealousy etc. (warnings will be added) taglist! open a/n! never thought i'd be back to writing fanfic on tumblr but here we are... i guess even 6 years later, i'm still the same person i was when i was 15... just btw, the pairings can change as i write more since right now, i have only officially written the first sooo... don't take it for granted

RESOLUTION 1: actually enjoy a party... (Lee Heeseung x Reader)

synopsis! lee heeseung has known you your whole life. he has always kept you at an arm’s length due to his childhood pettiness after being forced to spend time with you as kids. but now that you were back in town, going to school again, he finds his resolve to dislike you at all costs crumbling between his fingers. as if it hadn’t always been chipping away throughout the years.

word count! 5.4k

read here!

RESOLUTION 2: not be a virgin anymore... (Sim Jake x Reader)

synopsis! sim jake has always liked you, but as heeseung’s best friend, he felt weird trying to talk to you. now, with the rules around you loosening, jake refuses to miss his chance to win you over.

word count! 8.4k

read here!

RESOLUTION 3: become popular at school (Park Jay x Reader)

synopsis! park jay always thought of you as the annoying little miss perfect who could do no wrong in the eyes of his, yours and heeseung’s parents. he wasn’t fond of you in the slightest for that very reason. but when you dropped the act after your perfect image had shattered in front of everyone, he can’t help but feel drawn to you. when he discovers another one of your secrets, he thinks he might truly have to ruin you for the whole world to know how far from perfect you truly are.

word count! 12k

read here!

RESOLUTION 4: maybe get a boyfriend? (Park Sunghoon x Reader)

synopsis! park sunghoon always preferred admiring you from afar. because to him, you were untouchable. as the daughter of his career’s biggest sponsor, he was scared that the smallest slight upon your person could make your father withdraw. but you were not the fragile pretty flower sunghoon thought you to be. it was only his luck that you ran right into his arms when you didn’t know what to do about the rest of his friends.

word count! 15k

read here!

Good morning, Decelis! Guess who’s back?

And no, I’m not talking about myself at the moment, but rather, a princess of a successful empire, and our beloved black sheep of the school. It’s quite ironic, isn’t it? In a place where money is power, she has none despite the billions she’s meant to inherit. Poor girl, wouldn’t you say?

But rumours have it that our princess is back from her prolonged summer break abroad, and she’s different than we remember.

It seems that the good girl image has been thrown to the wolves, and the princess is back with a bite of her own.

I’m most definitely looking forward to what this year brings us.

XO, Miss Decelis

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joonsytip · 3 months

Text

Side by Side || Hoshi

Pairings: Hoshi x Fem!Reader

Genre: Angst, Smut, mafia boss! Hoshi, cold husband! Hoshi, doctor! Reader, arranged marriage au.

Synopsis: Your marriage to Soonyoung is just a form of convenience to all and you're fed up trying to make things work. So what happens when you start being bratty and it brings out an animalistic side to your cold mafia boss husband?

Warnings: hoshi being the typical cold & rude mafia boss, mafia clan jargon intended, betrayal, reader becomes bratty, couple fights, marriage of convenience, hate sex, angry sex, creampie, choking, biting, marking.

Word Count: 5.5k

[ SVT Masterlist ] [ SVT Flick - Fic Masterlist ]

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT 🔞

In the frosty heart of the city, there's a large edifice owned by Soonyoung, a mafia boss, who goes by the alias Hoshi. He is a man of few words and even fewer smiles, a dangerously cold man who rules his criminal empire with an iron fist.

However, even the coldest hearts can take a hit under the circumstances. One day, Soonyoung's advisors come to him with a proposition: an arranged marriage to you, brilliant young physician and the daughter of a powerful ally now, but previously your clan had been prime rival of his clan, things still on the brink of simmering sometimes.

The advisors believe that this union would strengthen Soonyoung's hold on his territory, as your father controlled a large part of the city's medical services and underground capo. Always a man of strategy, Soonyoung agrees to the arrangement, despite his initial lack of interest in matrimony.

The reason, more of the truth is, Soonyoung's empire is under threat from a rival gang and your family has the resources and influence to help turn the tide in his favor. By marrying you, he would secure an alliance that could tip the balance of power in his favor.

Soonyoung has always been a complex man, a man who has built his empire on fear and ruthlessness. But beneath that icy exterior, there is a hint of loneliness and sadness. He has always been a solitary figure, never allowing himself to get close to anyone.

Being an orphan, he was basically raised on the streets of the city. He had learned early on that the world was a cold and unforgiving place. He had made his way up in the criminal underworld, using his cunning tactics and ruthlessness to secure his position as a boss.

To begin with, he had fallen in with a small gang of street thugs and by providing himself as a quick learner, he soon became their leader. It was during this time that he met a seasoned mobster, who recognized his potential and took him under his wing.

Soonyoung's rivals are the Kims, a powerful and ruthless mafia clan who controls a significant part of the city's criminal underworld. They had been feuding with his gang for years over territory, resources, and power.

You, on the contradictory note, are a fiery, independent spirit. You had grown up as the heir of another wealthy and influential mafia clan. Despite your privileged upbringing, you had never allowed yourself to be intimidated by the criminal world that surrounded you.

You had always been a bright and curious child, with a love for learning, excelling in studies, particularly in the field of medicines. Despite your family's objections, you had pursued the medical degree from a prestigious university.

You have seen deaths growing up, so the main reason for becoming a doctor was a way of protesting, while your family killed, you wanted to save lives.

You are shocked on receiving the marriage proposal from Soonyoung's advisors. It's not that you had never expected to be married into another mafia clan but you had never imagined it would be Soonyoung's. You have seen your brothers held at the gunpoint by the said man, in exchange for royalty. Things might look good on the surface but you know better.

So after much discussion and negotiation, you agreed to the marriage. Your family saw it as an opportunity to broker a more prominent peace treaty with Soonyoung's gang.

Though you have agreed to the marriage, your impression of Soonyoung was simple, the leader of the Kwon mafia clan who's ruthless and walks on the blood of people.

You saw this marriage as an opportunity to gain more independence and autonomy within your own family, a chance to make a difference in the criminal underworld by promoting peace and cooperation.

The first time you two meet is at a formal dinner arranged by your family. Though you both are seated next to each other and pleasantries are exchanged, Soonyoung doesn't pay much mind to you.

He is distracted during the dinner, paying more attention to the men of the gang and their discussions, than to you. However as the meal went on, he couldn't help but be drawn to your strength and poise.

Later that evening, when the dinner ends and the guests are leaving, Soonyoung finds himself lingering near you. After much consideration, he asks you to go for a walk in the gardens outside the estate.

As you both walk together in the moonlit gardens, you try to make small talks with him only to meet with dry replies. You can sense the coldness and aloofness in his aura.

His eyes narrow as he asks you bluntly, "So, tell me. Why did you agree to this marriage?

You weren't expecting a blunt question this quick but who are you kidding, it's Soonyoung afterall. Feeling a pang of disappointment, you reply tersely, "My reasons for agreeing to this union are none of your concern. Enough about that, let's return inside."

He seems to ignore your words and continues to press on you, his voice low and rough as he asks, "Do you really think you can handle life with me, as my wife? As the leader's wife?

Soonyoung's sharp tone causes a chill to run down your spine, but you refuse to back down. Meeting his frightening gaze boldly, you reply, "I can handle whatever comes my way, Soonyoung. I am not some delicate flower that will wilt at the first sign of trouble."

His lips quirked into a small smirk at your bold response, his demeanor softening just a little. He couldn't help but admire you for your bravery and strength, and he suddenly feels a desire to know more about you. "Well then..."

He begins to lead you to a secluded part of the garden, away from prying eyes. The moonlight illuminates your path as you both walk together in silence. "I suppose we will have plenty of time to get to know each other once we are married," he says at last with a hint of sarcasm.

After a few moments of comfortable silence, he abruptly stops walking and turns to face you. His expression is unreadable as he says, "Y/N, I want to make one thing perfectly clear. Just because we are getting married, it doesn't mean that I will be easy on you."

He continues, "You will be my wife in name only. I expect you to follow my orders, no matter what they are. My position as the leader of our people is everything to me, and nothing, not even you, will ever come before it."

You look at Soonyoung, eyes narrowing as you listen to his harsh words. Despite his warning, you could see the uncertainty in his gaze, and it gives you a hope. "I understand." you say quietly.

Over the next few weeks, you are forced to throw yourself into the preparations for your wedding. The entire city is bustling with activity, but one person seemed to be conspicuously absent - Soonyoung. He sends his men and servants to assist with the preparations but he has not been seen in days.

Despite your frustration, you try not to let it show. You don't want to give your would-be husband the satisfaction of knowing that he is getting under your skin. But as the days turns into weeks, you couldn't help but wonder if he is even going to show up for the wedding.

You try to reach out to Soonyoung numerous times, but never receive a response. You have even sent messengers to his estate, but they all returned with the same message - he is unavailable. You even attempted to visit him herself, but were turned away at the gate.

As the days went on, you couldn't help but rethink your decision to marry Soonyoung. You shouldn't have given the nod, shouldn't have agreed under the pressure of your family because Soonyoung is distant and completely unwilling to let you in. You are compelled, you divert yourself back into your regular routine, living in the hospital dorms just to keep yourself busy and your mind away from all sorts of unpleasant thoughts.

With each passing day, you grow more and more convinced that you have made a mistake. You couldn't shake the feeling that Soonyoung would never truly care for you and that your marriage would be nothing more than a political arrangement.

The day of the wedding arrives. You stand wearing the white gown, looking out at the assembled guests. Your heart feels heavy with doubt and you couldn't help but wonder what your life would have been like if you had followed your heart.

The crowd grows restless as the ceremony draws near and there is still no sign of the groom. You try to push down your growing anxiety but you can't shake the feeling that something is terribly wrong. And then finally, as the sun begins to set, Soonyoung appears.

He looks unapologetic and nonchalant as he strolls towards you with small smile on his lips, seeming completely unfazed by the fact that he has kept his bride waiting and takes your hand without a second thought.

As the vows are exchanged, you feel your doubts grow even stronger. You wonder if you would ever be able to truly accept a man who has so carelessly disrespected you. But for now, you bury those feelings and force yourself to smile, knowing that it was too late to turn back now.

The rest of the wedding day passes in a blur. You go through the motions, dancing and laughing with your guests, all the while feeling a growing sense of emptiness inside. And as the night wears on, you are convinced that you have made a grave mistake.

From the start, Soonyoung's cold demeanor and possessive attitude caused friction between you two. He expects you to cater to his every whim, but you have promised yourself to never be intimidated by his threats and his icy stare.

As newlyweds, you both settle into the honeymoon suite. You feel your heart sink once again because you had hoped that the spark would be reignited once you both were alone, but Soonyoung seems more interested in the bottle than in you.

You sit on the edge of the bed, your eyes fixed on your hands. Your husband stands by the window, nursing a glass of whiskey. The silence is palpable.

"Soonyoung," you begin, your voice barely above a whisper, "Why did you leave me alone at the altar today?"

Soonyoung turns to face you, his expression unreadable. He takes a long pull from his glass before answering, "I didn't leave you at the altar, if I did then we wouldn't have been married and you wouldn't have been here."

His face hardens as he steps closer to you, "I don't have time for your tears or your theatrics," he snaps, "You knew that this isn't going to be a normal marriage with rainbows and sunshine so stop whining and play your part."

Your eyes are narrow as you stand up to face him, "I may have agreed to this marriage, but I will not be treated like a doormat," you say, your voice is steady and strong, "I am more than just a trophy wife."

Soonyoung sneers at you, his annoyance growing. "Then what are you, Y/N? You're nothing but a foolish woman because you agreed to this marriage knowing there would be no love, no obligations."

Your eyes flash with anger as you bite back with a retort, "Fine. If you want to play the game of cold indifference, then let's see who breaks first."

You take a step closer to him, your voice low and dangerous, "Don't test me, Soonyoung", you warn, "I may not be a man, but I am not as weak as you seem to think. I can give as good as I get.", you reach up and grab a handful of his shirt, your fingers digging into the fabric.

Soonyoung's eyes widen in surprise at your sudden burst of anger. He opens his mouth to speak, but you cut him off with a sharp look, "I am done being your doormat", you say, your voice full of fire and determination.

After that night, you both settle into a cold and distant marriage. You live in a lavish mansion but the tension between you both is palpable. But even after the heated word exchange, you tried your best to make the marriage work, but Soonyoung's cold and rude demeanor made it impossible.

You made constant efforts to engage with him. You organized dinners and gatherings, hoping that you'd connect over shared interests. You tried to talk to him about the relationship, expressing your desires for a more loving and supportive partnership.

You also made an effort to spend quality time with Soonyoung. You would plan trips and outings, clearing your schedules, hoping that the time alone would help you both grow closer. You would often try to initiate deep conversations in the hopes that it would melt his cold exterior.

Despite your best efforts, your husband remains the same. He shows no signs of caring for you or reciprocating your affections. The lack of feelings weighed heavily on you.

You try to warn Soonyoung when you discover that he has been secretly meeting with a member of the rival mafia clan. As a doctor, you feel strongly about upholding the law but as his wife, you couldn't help but worry about his safe being.

Soonyoung isn't a fool. He knows what he is doing. He has his own reasons for secretly meeting, whoever he is meeting. He believes that forming an alliance with them would bring more power and wealth to his own clan, securing their position as a dominant force in the criminal underworld but if he fails to coax them to form an ally then he'd finish the whole clan.

"You don't understand the ways of the mafia, my dear wife. I do what needs to be done, whether you approve or not.", he answers you.

"And you don't know what you're getting yourself into," you plead, your hands gripping his arms in desperation. "The rival clan is ruthless and they will stop at nothing to take us down."

Soonyoung's expression hardens as he pulls his arms out of your grip. "You don't trust me to handle this, do you?" he accuses, his voice full of rage, "I am the leader of this clan, and I know what I'm doing."

Suddenly, Soonyoung's expression darkens as he looks at you, "You have a secret it seems," he says, his voice low and dangerous. "Is there something you're hiding from me because how the hell did you know that I'm meeting the people of rival clan?"

Your eyes flash with defiance as you walk out of the room, leaving Soonyoung standing there. You couldn't believe he would accuse you of hiding something from him even after she have just warned him about the danger. He seems to have forgotten that you too belong to a powerful mafia clan.

Since that day, your relationship becomes more strained as you both stopped speaking to each other. Soonyoung is always staking out doing something you don't care about anymore and you sort to spending more time at hospital.

Your heart stops, one night, as you see Soonyoung walk into the home, his clothes soaked in blood. You run to him, your hands reaching out to touch him, to make sure he is okay.

"What happened?", you ask, eyes scanning his body.

Soonyoung's voice is distant as he speaks, "It's not my blood." he says, pushing your hands away. "I killed someone before he could kill me."

Your eyes wander before you look at him. Something about his story doesn't add up. You step closer, studying his face and see the faint traces of tears in his eyes, "Soonyoung," you say softly, reaching out to touch his cheek. "What really happened?"

Soonyoung's reaction takes you by surprise but you don't let it deter you. You follow him quietly to your shared bedroom, watching as he collapses on the bed. "Soonyoung," you repeat, your voice softer now, "Tell me the truth."

Soonyoung lets out a sigh as he turns to face you. He looks into your eyes, knowing he couldn't hide the truth from you any longer, "I had planted a mole, one of my trusted men in their gang.", he admits, his voice barely above a whisper, "He got caught by them and was already dead when I found him."

Soonyoung hesitates, taking a deep breath before continuing, "If I had arrived a bit earlier, I could have saved him. But I got a hold of some of them and killed them all.", he turns away, his voice filled with regret.

Your concern for your husband overpowers any disappointment you have in him. You move closer to him, your hands gently examining his body for any injuries. "Are you hurt? Is that your blood?"

He looks up at you, his eyes filled with pain, "Yes," he whispers, "I was stabbed."

He lifts his shirt, revealing a long wound on his side. You gasp, your hands immediately going to the wound as you inspect it.

You quickly grab some bandages and disinfectant from the first aid kit and carefully clean the wound before wrapping it up, making sure it is clean and protected. "We need to get you to a hospital," you say firmly, "This needs stitches."

He grabs your hand and tells you that he can't.

You frown at his response, but you don't let it deter you, "Soonyoung, this is serious," you say, trying to keep the worry out of your voice, "You need medical attention."

Soonyoung shakes his head, his grip on your hand tightening.

His actions cut through you like a knife, "I don't need your help", he spats out, his voice filled with anger and frustration, "Just leave me alone." He pulls his hand away from yours, turning his back on you as he tries to hide the pain in his eyes.

You know that he needs medical attention and you are not going to let him suffer any longer. Gathering up your sewing kit and some painkillers, you approach him again.

You sit down next to him, carefully cleaning and numbing the wound before starting to stitch it up. The entire process is painful and tense, with Soonyoung gritting his teeth and occasionally flinching as the needle goes in.

You don't receive a thanks, rather you receive an ultimatum to never interfere in his matters again.

As the weeks went by, you both grew more distant. You'd only see each other in the bedroom that too occasionally and your conversations are always short and perfunctory. As demanded by your husband, you have finally stopped caring about his matters.

Soonyoung bursts into the mansion one evening, his face red with anger. He has heard something he couldn't believe. He shouts out your name, closing in on you as you sat on the couch.

Your confusion turns into fear as you see the anger in his eyes.

"You dated Minho.", he declares, gritting his teeth, "The son of Kim's, the next boss of their clan."

You hadn't expected him to find out about your brief relationship with the rival gang member. Your voice is stern when you say, "I did date him, but it was years ago when we were both in college. But I broke up with him as soon as I found out who his family was. I never would do anything hurtful for my family or the people I care for."

Soonyoung has been boiling the entire time, he is frustrated, he is mad. So he hurls some insults at you and you do too. The fight has turned into something else entirely. You both are overwhelmed with emotion.

"What kind of man doesn't want his wife?", you yell at him, "Maybe I should go back to Minho, at least he would treat me better."

At this point you're saying anything and everything to bottle out your frustration.

"So you want me to treat you as my wife?", Soonyoung turns calm suddenly, his tone low, "You want me to want you?"

And before you both know it, the anger has turned into something darker and more primal.

Soonyoung reaches you in long strides and kisses you by grabbing your head.

He backs you to the bedroom, lips still connected. One gaze after he pulls away and the tension snaps. You both rip each other's clothes off, your bodies colliding in a rough wave.

You bodies now move in a desperate rhythm, each thrust and grind a testament to the months of frustration and pent-up desire that had been building between the you of you. Soonyoung's hands roamed all over your body, gripping your hips, pulling your hair and squeezing your breasts roughly.

His voice is low and rough as he speaks into your mouth, "You're mine, Y/N.", he says, his hips pistoning into yours, "I can't get enough of you, even when I hate you for speaking of some other man when I was infront of you just because you were feigning for some touch. I'll show that I could all and above."

You meet his intensity with your own. You claw at his back, leaving red marks on his skin as you scream out your own frustration, "I'm not yours, Soonyoung," you spat, "I never was."

You buck your hips, meeting his thrusts with equal ferocity, gripping the sheets tightly. Your body is aching with pleasure and pain because of the roughness.

"You're just a means to an end," you say with a feral glint in your eyes. "You always were."

Soonyoung's lips curl in a savage smile as he hears your words. He grips your hips tighter and slams into you harder, the headboard banging against the wall with each thrust, "I'll make sure you never forget me then."

His hand wraps around your throat, not enough to choke you but enough to assert dominate. He leans down, his breath hot against your skin as he sucks and bites at your neck, marking you as his, "Happy to finally get what you wanted?"

Your breath hitches as his hand tightens around you throat but you don't back down. You meet his gaze with a fierce glare, your fingers digging into his back deeper as you hold on, "I'll always be a thorn in your side."

Soonyoung chuckles darkly, his hand finally releasing your throat, now placing it on your hips again, pulling you closer to him as he thrusts deeper, "And I wouldn't have it any other way."

In response, you wrap your legs around him and meet each of his thrusts with one of your own, your bodies slapping together in a heated dance.

His eyes darken with desire as he continues to thrust, the two of you getting lost in a wild and animalistic rhythm. He reaches down rubbing your clit, causing you to moan loudly as you come undone beneath him.

Feeling you clenching around him as you came, Soonyoung couldn't hold back any longer. He thrusts into you a few more times before spilling himself inside of you, his fingers gripping your hips tightly as he releases everything he had.

But even as he holds you close to him, he knows that your relationship would never be simple. You are fiery and independent, a woman who would always challenge him and keep him on his toes. But he wouldn't have it any other way.

You lay in Soonyoung's arms, your body still trembling and humming with pleasure. You have never felt so alive, so free. You have always been a thorn in his side, always pushing back against him, never making it easy for him.

But in this moment, as you lay together, bodies still entwined, you couldn't help but feel something more for your husband. You aren't sure if it is love, or just a deep and primal attraction, but you know that you have found something special in him.

And so, as the night wore on, you and Soonyoung lay there, holding each other tightly.

But eventually, the night had to end. The first light of dawn begins to break over the horizon, casting a golden glow over the room as you wake up to an empty bed.

And as the sun continues to rise, you both go back to your usual ways, each pretending to be indifferent to the other. But deep down, you both know that something has changed between you both, that you are no longer just enemies, but something more complicated and unpredictable.

And so, as the days passed and the war raged on, you both find yourselves drawn to each other again and again, your fiery chemistry impossible to resist. You fought and fucked, through it all, never not craving each other's touch.

Another such episode comes when you storm into Soonyoung's office, your eyes blazing with anger. You had a long, shitty day at the hospital so you are here, into the vicinity of your husband, ready to give him a piece of your mind.

As soon as you see him, sitting there behind his desk, claded in a fitting suit, all your other thoughts go into the gutter. You couldn't help but feel a deep, primal desire for him. And from the look in his eyes, you could tell that he felt the same way.

Soonyoung's jaw clenches on seeing you and he couldn't help but let his anger show, "What the hell do you want?", he snarls, standing up and slamming his fists on the desk, "How dare you barge into my office?Can't you see I'm busy?"

Your eyes narrow and you let out a low, dangerous laugh, "Oh, I see", you say, sauntering towards him with a seductive sway in your hips, "I thought you'd be busy jerking yourself off to the thought of me."

Soonyoung lets out a laugh as his control snaps. He reaches out and grabs you, pulling you towards him before turning you over and bending over the desk, his hands roughly gripping your hips as he grinds himself against you.

You gasp as his hands roam over your clothed body, igniting a fire within you that you couldn't resist. You moan as he presses himself against you, your body craving his touch despite everything, "Fuck me, Soonyoung."

His voice is low and rough as he leans in close to your ear, "You want me to fuck you, my wife?" he growls, his hot breath sending chills down your spine, "You've been begging for it since the moment you walked in here."

Your smirk turns into a gasp as he turns you around again, hands ripping your clothes. His gaze marvels at you in nothing your lingerie before tearing them as well, revealing your naked body to him. You swear under your breath as the cool air hits your skin, but it's quickly replaced with the heat of Soonyoung's touch.

"You're a fucking animal."

Soonyoung's only response is a guttural growl as he lifts you onto the desk, spreading you legs and entering harshly into you without hesitation. Your hands work on undressing him as he thrusts in. The sound of the bodies slapping against each other fills the room, along with your moans and his grunts of pleasure.

The heat of your bodies is overwhelming and your head falls back as you surrender to the pleasure that your husband is giving you. The pain of his rough treatment mixed with pleasure and you find yourself moaning loudly, scratching at his back as he continues to rearrange your insides.

His thrusting never slows as he looks down at you, his eyes dark with desire. He smirks, leaning down to whisper in your ear, "You like that, don't you? Being treated like the filthy slut you are."

Your glare turns into a snarl as you grab Soonyoung's throat, your fingers digging into his skin. "Shut up and fuck me harder.", you growl through gritted teeth. Your grip tightens around his neck as you pull him closer, your faces inches apart.

Soonyoung snickers at your response, the smirk never wavering, "With pleasure, my dirty little whore," he responds with a chuckle before kissing you passionately.

"You're damn right, I am." you say pulling away, your grip tightening even more, "Now fuck me like the animal you are."

You pull him down for another rough and bruising kiss, refusing to let go as your bodies collide in a mess of sweat and heat.

He breaks the kiss, a triumphant smirk on his face as his thrust takes animalistic speed.

Your moans and his grunts of pleasure, floods the rooms. You bite on his shoulder blade, leaving an angry red mark as you hold on and let him ravage her body.

Soonyoung's thrusts became more erratic as he feels his orgasm building up within him, ready to spill. Your body shakes with pleasure, the two of you reaching the climax together.

He pulls out of you and collapses onto you, panting and covered in sweat, "Fuck," he says with a grin.

"You're wild.", you glare at him, but a smirk of your own forms as you try to push him off you.

Soonyoung slides off and stretches, his muscles aching from the exertion of your passionate encounter.

"You think that was good just because you could keep up with me?", you laugh with a seductive smirk on your lips, "I've fucked better and rougher."

Soonyoung flexes his muscles, a smug grin on his face, "Well, I guess it was a good thing for you then, wasn't it?" he shot back, pushing your buttons with ease.

You roll your eyes but couldn't keep the smile off your face.

"You know what?", you say as you hop off the table, "Keep telling yourself that.", you start walking towards the bathroom, "I'll take a shower first, wanna join?"

You look down at your torn clothes and laugh with a playful glint in her eye, "Well, looks like I'll be walking out of here naked", and look over at your husband with a smirk, "I guess you want all your men to see me like this."

Soonyoung's temper flares at the thought of all the men in the office seeing his wife naked. He quickly follows you into the bathroom with a fierce determination on his face.

"Fuck no." he mutters to himself and turns you around to face him.

He cups your face and looks deeply into your eyes, "You're mine and I won't share you with anyone.", he says possessively, a fierce protectiveness in his gaze, "So, either put on my spare clothes or wait till I get you something to wear."

Your eyes flashed with a hint of defiance as you shrug off in hold, "I don't care if anyone sees me naked.", you snip to rile him up.

Soonyoung steps closer, "If you let another man look at this state of yours whether or not I'm around, I will rip them apart," he growls.

And he doesn't waste any time. His carnal instincts takes over once again so you are now bent her over the bathroom counter, his hands gripping your hips as he plunges into you from behind as he fucks with a wild abandon.

The bathroom was filled with the sound of your heavy breathing and the slick slap of the bodies. His fingers dug into your hips as he thrust deep inside you, his lips pressing a savage kiss to your shoulder, "Mine."

Your head falls back, breath hitching as Soonyoung hits a particularly sensitive spot deep inside you, "Yes.", you gasp, "All yours."

As your orgasm subsides for the second time, Soonyoung gently pulls out of you and turns you to face him. He wraps his arms around you, holding you close, pressing a tender kiss to your forehead, "I mean it," he murmurs, "You're mine."

You are taken aback by this sudden affectionate gesture. You hadn't expected tenderness from him after your rough session earlier. You look up at him and smile softly, a strange warmth spreading through your chest, "I'm yours, Soonyoung.", you repeat, your voice softer this time.

Your husband smiles back and tilts your head up so he can see you better. He looks into your eyes, his own softening as he sees the sincerity in your gaze., "And I'm yours.", he whispers before leaning in and kissing you softly.

You have already melted the icy shield and Soonyoung thinks it's time he starts to show that he can be sincere, that he too wants this marriage to work.

Urgent knocks on the office door makes Soonyoung scrumbling out of the bathroom, searching for his clothes in a hurry. He knows that the pattern of those knocks always meant some trouble.

Just as he goes to open the door, he hears the clanking of the gun and turns back only to feel the metal being pressed on the skin of his forehead.

"Hey, Hoshi.", you smile at your husband condescendingly, holding him at the gunpoint.

→ Do not copy, re-post, translate, or share any of my works on other platforms! All stories are copyrighted, joonsytip.

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world-of-aus · 2 months

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The Arrangement - Chapter 1

Pairing: Mobboss!Bucky x Reader

Chapter Warnings: Feels. Angsty Dialogue.

Author's Note: Any and all writing errors are mine. First official chapter of the arrangement and I can't wait to delve more into this series. Also, did y'all catch onto what I did at the end there? Enjoy!

“Please just talk to me.”

Free MSG: Unable to send message—message blocking active.

“You love him, he loves you, please reconsider I know you’re scared but please don’t do this.”

Free MSG: Unable to send message—message blocking active.

“Please don’t make me do this.. he chose you, he loves you..we planned YOUR wedding I can’t do this please just come home.”

Free MSG: Unable to send message—message blocking active.

Your fathers' hands come to rest over yours stopping you from sending another pleading text to your sister.

“That’s enough sweetheart.” he says as he pries your phone from your hands.

You want to scream that it’s not, to yell till you’re red in the face just how unfair this all was.

“She just needs time dad, she’s just scared, you need to reconsider.”

Your dad shakes his head pulling you into his side the best he can despite the seat belts strapping you in.

“Your sister has made up her mind, and there’s no changing that. You and I both know it was always meant to be like this, you and him, it had been decided upon when we first drew up the merger contract.”

But he chose her not me. He fell in love with her not me.

“That original contract was discarded dad, I was there the night it was redrawn.” the night my heart broke further, “He loves her dad.” and no contract would change that.

“And he’ll grow to love you too sweetheart, he’d be dumb and blind if he didn’t.”

Your eyes slip shut a shaky breath leaving your lips. Many moons ago you would have believed those words, but now? Now all it does is bring you pain. You didn’t want to be somebody’s second choice. You didn’t want to have to force somebody to consider loving you.

“It’s going to be okay sweetheart, you’ll see it’ll all be okay, there’s no one more capable of getting through this than you.” He murmurs pressing a kiss to your head just as the family car rolls to a stop.

Through the tint you can see the grand entrance of the Barnes residence, Winnifred Barnes and Rebecca Barnes waiting at the door.

Seeing your best friend stood by her mother you couldn’t help but wonder what Rebecca was doing here, she was supposed to be closing a deal with Romanoff, she wasn’t due to get back till the day before the wedding or at least that’s what the two of you had discussed over text.

Your driver opens the door for you and your father then, your father stepping out first holding out a hand for you to help you exit the car. You’ve just straightened yourself out when Rebecca runs for you her arms getting around you in record time as she squeezes you to her. Winnifred scolds her from where she stands at the entrance but you can’t help to laugh, your arms going around your friend, “what are you doing here, you weren’t supposed to be back yet for another couple of days.” You breathe. Rebecca pulls back only slightly to take you in, “I closed with Romanoff within a day, as soon as the news broke, I booked the first flight home, I wanted to be here for my best friend, I know it’s what you would have done for me.”

Tears threaten to well in your eyes, but you press them back with a shake of your head. “I missed you Bec’s” Rebecca laughs softly pulling you back in, “missed you more, now come mothers been asking for you, she’s quite upset that you’ve been so absent from her family dinners lately, she was worried something was wrong I told her you were just busy building an empire.”

“You’re not wrong.” You murmur dread sinking in your stomach at the mention of family dinners, it was true your presence had become less and less and more recently with the upcoming prep of your sister’s wedding, you just didn’t have any more of you to give. You needed time to tuck tail, lick your wounds and heal, to get over the hurt that night caused you but with your sister needing you by her side at every turn with the wedding you did what you knew best; threw yourself into work, closing deals for your father, going into interrogations when needed, and keeping track of the money and cargo, you ran a tight ship. Helping your sister plan what should have been your big day while you had never voiced it hurt, and then to put yourself through a family dinner where everyone cooed over the happy couple it had become all too much, you needed the space, the distraction.

You and Rebecca close the distance between her mother and your father, Winnies arms opening for you almost instantly, “Oh ma,” you murmur closing the last bit of space between the two of you, your arms curling around her. “My sweet girl,” she breathes pressing a kiss to your head, “I’ve missed you; your father tells me he’s been working you to the bone so much so that you’ve been missing family dinners.”

Your eyes meet your dad’s, he throws you a wink, “my girl’s going to be a force to be reckoned with.”

You feel the rumble of her laughter as she pulls away her eyes assessing you, “I have no doubt, y/n has always been a strong one haven’t you.”

You manage to pull a smile on, soft nod of your head, “I have some pretty powerful shoes to fill.”

Winnie’s hand comes to rest on your cheek rubbing the skin there softly, “and you will, now come, let’s go talk family business.”

Winnifred leads the four of you through her lavish home, directing you through to her home office as she shuts the door behind your group. You all take your respective seats, eyes on Winnie as she settles, “I do want to apologize for James's absence but he is out with Wilson and Rogers closing a deal, he should be returning in a day or two just in time for the wedding.”

“Does he know?” Is the first thing that can think to spill out of your lips.

“Yes my dear he does, and he wants you to know that he apologizes profusely for his absence, you deserved more than that, and I couldn’t agree more.”

You want to ask if he’s upset, if he’s even remotely happy about this predicament your sister his now ex-fiancé has put you all in, but you’re not sure you want to know the answer to that.

“As you’re aware y/n this marriage is important to both families, and I can understand how hard this may be for you, it was sudden – for all of us, but I do want to thank you for stepping up and taking this on with grace, there’s no one else I would choose to stand at my son’s side.”

But you did you think, you chose my sister.

“Of course Ma I know how important this merger is for not only us, but for the people we have vowed to protect, I would take on the roll no questions asked and while I understand this may not have been what was planned, what we prepared for, I promise to make you all proud.”

Winnifred leans forward her hands reaching for yours, giving you a quick squeeze before she’s releasing you, “I know you will sweetheart,” she says as she stands making her way around the desk Rebecca following her lead, “and rest-assured your father and I will redraw up the contract this afternoon when -”

“She’s here now, you can draw it up now.”

Your head turns at the sound of his voice, he stands at the open doorway, his eyes already on yours. His smile racks up your heartrate, “sorry I'm late everyone” he says closing the distance between the two of you. In that moment you feel like it's just you and him standing in his mother's office, his hand landing on your hip, body pressing in close as his lips find your cheek. Your thought is to return the sentiment but you’ve forgotten how to breathe, and by the time your mind can catch up he’s going around the group greeting them.

When he comes back to you all you can manage is, “you’re here.”

He chuckles softly hand going around your waist, “I am y/n, I’m here, and I'm sorry it took me so long.”

The Arrangement Taglist:

@learisa @greatenthusiasttidalwave @barnesxstan @calwitch @h0nestly-though @wintrsoldrluvr

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x you #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes au #mobboss!bucky

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cupids-chamber · 5 months

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— THE CONCUBINE GAME !! | chapter one . . . The first chapter, where you'll be able to catch a climpse of the inner dynamics between the emperor's y/n's secretary and their personal guard, a small entry and brief taste of what's to come, while learning a bit more about our beloved emperor and their staff . . .

— Themes ; Harem / historical au , Twisted wonderland , multiple characters x reader , royalty au , includes rsa + yuuka/yuuken. ♡

The wind was howling, the pitter patter sound of rain could be heard throughout the grand walls of the palace. The sound of heels clicking urgently on the wooden floors, echoing through the empty halls, as Yuuken rushed his way through to the emperor's chambers. It was late, yet he’d been overworked all week preparing the palace for the arrival of certain selected members of the Royal Harem, some were particularly demanding with the way they wanted things sorted out and Yuuken prided himself on never failing to impress.

He banged on the door rather aggressively, “Your majesty, I have certain design plans I need you to finalize before Prince Leona’s arrival, and the first few concubines enter the palace, we don’t have much time!”, he yelled out trying to get the emperor’s attention, it was already late into the night and the palace staff were working overtime meeting every demand that they were given.

Yuuken flinched feeling something touch his shoulder, and right before he could move back and attack, he heard an all too familiar voice—”Don’t bother trying to get their attention, Y/n’s at a meeting”—Yuuka spoke, a small grin on her face while she watched Yuuken try and collect himself, “This late?”, he asked confused, “also please try and address them by proper titles in public”; Yuuka shrugged in response, pausing for a moment before she spoke up once more, “I’d like to keep things the way it is, and you should probably take a break because they’re not coming out of the room at all, it’s something about politics . . . I wasn’t really paying attention”.

Yuuken sighed, slumping his shoulders as he leaned onto the door of the Emperor's chamber, “I-i . . just want everything to be perfect, everything’s been so . . hectic for their majes—y/n and I just really want to provide some stability, you know?”, he said softly, letting his exhaustion take over for a moment and Yuuka’s expression softened, “Hey—you’re doing great, there's a reason y/n gave you full creative liberty”, she ruffled his hair giving him a genuine smile, “don’t push yourself too hard alright? None of us are expecting you to be perfect, not even y/n . .” she finished, as Yuuken closed his eyes and whispered a small, “I know . . .”

Setting: Meeting room Location: The west wing. Time: 11:36pm

You fiddle with your fingers, trying to shift the jewelry that you were covered in, in an attempt to feel more comfortable with the weight that the jewels provided, holding you down . . , as another argument ensues between the nobles, these past few days have felt like a choir, in fact most of the months since you ascended have felt terrible, nothings been exciting—from inheriting an empire doomed to fail, to trying to pick up the scraps of what was left of your fathers reckless decisions and fixing it into something at least palatable, the pressure of everything has left you in a bottomless pit, you needed freedom a refreshing start—something you lost—when you inherited the throne . . .

“—Ah, your majesty?”, one of the nobles spoke up, and you bit your lip, how you hated that title, the moment you inherited this role, your friendships haven’t quite been the same, everyone who you’ve trusted in the past, have now become just another subject, trust is no longer something you earn, as loyalty and trust is to be expected when the crown is on your head.

Setting: Inner Cold Palace Garden Location: Rundown Gazebo Time: 12:46am

"—and they never thanked me'', Yuuken hiccuped out, words slurring due to his alcohol intake, he waved the half finished bottle of some form of expensive imported wine in his hands, swinging it around dramatically; Yuuka chuckled, taking a sip from her glass as she looked around at the scenery of the garden—it used to be much prettier and well taken care of, way back before the previous emperor—y/n’s father—went haywire. . .

"Hey Yuuken, remember when we used to play together here?" she asked without thinking, meeting his eyes for a brief moment all the while Yuuken took another big gulp from his wine bottle . . and then he spoke, "Yeah—you and y/n pushed me into the lake, I still hate the water", he slurred over his words slightly and Yuuka chuckled in response, if only things could've stayed as simple, but now Y/n didn't even have the time to maintain the garden where they're friendship once first blossomed, Yuuka sighed, leaning her head down on the table—which had seen better days— . . the same could be said about their relationship with y/n themselves . .

Masterlist | Introductions (being reworked) | Next chapter

♡. Synposis ; After many months of persuading, the emperor, Y/N L/N had finally agreed to take in a select few concubines and consorts—not an official partner.. but concubines. This caused an uproar in court; however the emperor promised to choose an official partner; amongst the crowd of concubines and consorts.. Who will the emperor choose?

— taglist ♡ (open) : . . tumblr is not letting me mention over 5 people per post, and the staff won't do anything about it, so I recommend just joining my server and picking out the new chapter ping role as it makes things easier for me.

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austinbutlerslovers · 4 months

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Power & Control

Label Mature 18+

Feyd Rautha x You Oneshot

Summary Feyds rise to power takes an unexpected turn when the rebel Muad'dib disrupts the empire. After his uncle's death, Feyd becomes Baron, only to learn that Muad'dib is actually Earl Paul Atreides, seeking to avenge his father. Feyd defeats Paul, stopping his bid for the throne. Now, Feyd faces his most formidable opponent yet: his bride to be you the princess of the empire.

‼️Update the entire story has been rewritten from Feyd x Irulan to Feyd x You due to dm demand 🥵

Starts off Dune Part 2 Ends with Sexual Oblivion

❤️‍🔥Passionate Smut❤️‍🔥 Breeding kink •edging•fingering•overstimulation• oral female •squirting •nipple play• wedding night• light power play• consummation •male dominance •P in V• mating press•multiple orgasms•cream pie •sexed into submission

Master List ••• Upcoming List

Power & Control

In the harsh and unforgiving empire of the universe, power was the ultimate conquest in a game of life and death, where only the strong and cunning prevail. The climactic battles that shaped the destiny of the known universe reached a turning point on the desert planet of Arrakis.

Paul Atreides, a former Earl of the empire, rose to power in exile on the planet after the assassination of his father the Duke. With reverence, he assumed the mantle of Muad’Dib, his authority alongside his Fremen warriors was unchallenged on Arrakis. By sabotaging the current ruler of the planet, the Harkonnen Baron of Geidi Prime, Paul gained control over the empire's crucial spice fields.

Paul sent an invitation to the emperor to form an alliance in a surprise move against the Baron who was unaware of the coup. But as soon as the emperor arrived, Paul double crossed him launching a swift and brutal attack on the Arrakeen palace with his formidable Fremen forces. The empire’s downfall seemed inevitable as Paul’s Fremen warriors surged into the opulent palace, following the orders of their prophetic Muad’Dib.

Inside the throne room, tension gripped the air as dignitaries and officials of the imperial court awaited their fate. The air grew thick as the Harkonnen Baron and his nephews, along with you and your father the Emperor, awaited the inevitable confrontation.

The screams from outside grew faint as the chaos of battle drew closer, until the sudden explosion of the throne room door shattered the silence. In strode Paul Atreides, cloaked and unrecognizable, his identity hidden from all. Without hesitation, he made his way to the Harkonnen Baron, blade in hand. With unyielding determination, he plunged the knife into the Baron’s neck, ending his life in a swift and decisive blow.

The Baron fell to the floor, convulsing, as shock rippled through the throne room. None were more stunned than the Baron’s nephews, Feyd Rautha and Rabban Harkonnen. With his uncle’s demise, Feyd, as his successor, instantly ascended to the position of Baron. Feyd’s face displayed a flurry of emotions: shock, disbelief, and then a realization of the immense responsibility thrust upon him.

Suddenly finding himself as the new Baron, Feyd grappled with the weight of his new role. His mind only set on the desire to overthrow the Muad’dib for the chaos he had caused the empire and avenging the death of a leader in his Harkonnen lineage by defeating him in hand to hand combat..

After murdering the Baron Paul confronted the Emperor and revealed his true identity as the son of Leto Atreides. His motives for revenge stemmed from the emperor’s treachery, striking a deal with the Baron who eliminated his father and wiped out his planet. With his true identity unveiled Paul sent word to the great houses, leveraging the threat of the spice fields on Arrakis, which they heavily profited from, to compel their presence.

His true intention however was to out the emperor for his war crimes and avenge the death of his father.

The Proposal

Paul leveraged with the Emperor to confess his crimes before the Great Houses arrived, vowing that he would take your hand as his Princess to become the Emperor and keep you safe.

The Emperor flat out refused Paul’s proposal, his voice filled with disdain.

“Your father was a weak man and a poor leader,” he sneered.

His words enraged Paul who challenged the Emperor to a duel. Because of his old age the Emperor fell silent. However Feyd waiting in the wings immediately stepped up to the occasion

Following the death of his uncle, Feyd had been waiting for the opportune moment to challenge Paul to the death, a final confrontation that would determine the fate of the known universe whoever winning ultimately becoming emperor.

“I am here Atreides” Feyd announced stepping from the crowd of the imperial court. “I will need a blade” he said with laced intimidation.

“Accept mine” the Emperor said hastily as he glared at Paul wanting him disposed.

Feyd took the Emperors dagger in his hand and studied its weight and design.

The duel was set at that very moment in the great throne room of Arrakeen, with the Fremen, and the empirical court bearing witness.

As Feyd and Paul met in the middle of the throne room, Paul took his stance, his expression resolute. Feyd stood stoically, his gaze fixed on his opponent.

“May thy knife chip and shatter,” Paul recited solemnly, drawing from the teachings of respect during battle he had learned from his new people on his adoptive planet.

Feyd echoed the words, but with a distain, a reflection of his loyalty to the emperor. “May thy knife chip and shatter,” he replied in a mocked tone.

As they faced each other, the tension was electric. Paul, the prophetic leader of the Fremen, against Feyd, the cunning and ambitious new Baron of Geidi Prime.

The duel began with ferocity, both men showcasing their formidable skills. Paul, seemed almost untouchable, predicting Feyd’s every move. However, Feyd was a meticulous fighter using his cunningness and agility to counter Paul’s foresight.

The battle raged on, and just as Paul began to gain the upper hand, Feyd feigned a misstep, drawing Paul in close. Seizing the moment with ruthless precision, Feyd delivered a fatal stab into Paul’s ribs, twisting the blade deeper to intensify his internal injury. Paul staggered back, rasping for breath, his gaze fixed on the blade embedded in his ribs and fell to his knees.

As Paul’s strength waned, Feyd joined him kneeling down and pulling him close in the intimate moment. This was a personal act of revenge. A cruel smile played on Feyd’s lips as he whispered the final insult, “You fought well, Atreides,” slowly withdrawing the blade from Paul’s ribs. He allowed the blood to leak from the wound, the crimson stain spreading across the fabric of Paul’s stillsuit.

With a swift and decisive strike, Feyd delivered the fatal blow, plunging the blade through Paul’s neck and ending the legendary Muad’Dib’s resistance in a swift and brutal act, mirroring the death of his own uncle. The stunned audience watched in horror as Paul’s lifeless body slumped to the ground.

Wails filled the throne room as Paul’s loyal Fremen rushed to aid their fallen leader. Feyd stood victorious amidst the chaos, his triumph undeniable as he gazed upon the scene before him, the taste of victory bitter on his lips.

The fall of Paul Atreides marked the rise of Feyd Rautha, the newly ascended Baron. He knew this was his chance to fulfill his uncle’s desires and ascend to the higher position of emperor. Raised being manipulated by the former Baron, Feyd was power hungry, and all of their political calculations this was the ultimate goal.

Seizing the moment, Feyd moved swiftly to consolidate his power and assert his rule over the empire. He knelt before the Emperor, his voice steady as he requested his approval to marry you his daughter the Princess of the empire.

“Emperor,” Feyd began, his tone respectful yet determined, “I humbly ask for the honor of your daughter’s hand in marriage. With her by my side, I vow to serve the empire faithfully and uphold its traditions.”

Gasps filled the throne room at Feyd’s boldness to propose such a request at this pivotal moment. The Emperors courtiers exchanged startled glances, some murmuring in disbelief at the audacity.

The Emperor, however, remained composed, his expression unreadable as he considered Feyd’s proposal. After a tense moment of silence, he nodded slowly, acknowledging Feyd’s words.

“Feyd Rautha,” the Emperor finally spoke, his voice carrying authority, “you have shown courage and loyalty in your service to the empire on this day. I grant you consent to marry my daughter, princess of the empire. May this union bring strength to our dynasty and prosperity to our realm.” The throne room fell silent with the sudden transition of power on the Emperor’s decision.

With the Emperor’s approval, Feyd rose to his feet, a sense of triumph coursing through him. But he knew his true test lay ahead as he approached you, daughter of the Emperor, Princess of Kaitan.

You radiated regal confidence and beauty. Your meticulously styled hair complemented your high cheekbones, accentuating your striking eyes. Your face exuded delicacy and aristocracy, with an elegance that commanded attention. The immaculate gown you adorned clung gracefully to your form, enhancing every elegant curve.

Feyd desired you greatly, his eyes transfixed on your radiant face before lowering to your bosom and settling on your bodice as you approached him. You moved with a grace and confidence that demanded respect and admiration.

Your reputation in the empire preceded you; Feyd was well aware of your sharp mind. More than just your physical allure, he was drawn to the cunning and discerning intellect that lay beneath your serene exterior. You possessed a keen wit, which made him even more eager to posses you.

You were well aware of the Harkonnens’ insatiable lust for power and control, knowing the depths to which his family would go to achieve their goals. The history between your houses was fraught with conflict and betrayal, and you hesitated to trust Feyd.

As he stood before you, his gaze was unwavering, his voice steady with determination.

“Princess, I understand your reservations of our union due to the history of our houses, but I assure you, this union is not just for the benefit of House Harkonnen. It is for the stability of the entire empire.”

You met Feyd’s gaze with your expression guarded. “You speak of stability, but I cannot ignore the history of House Harkonnen.” You replied, your voice tinged with skepticism.

Feyd bowed his head respectfully. “I do not ask you to forget the past, Princess, but together, we can forge a new path forward.” He vowed.

You remained stoic though you felt drawn to the sincerity of his words. Despite knowing all too well the scrupulous dealings of the Harkonnens ,you could clearly see in him an unyielding loyalty to your father and the empire.

Despite the Harkonnens involvement in many atrocities, you understood they had been pivitol in your father’s accomplishments. With Feyd by your side, you could ensure his continued obedience. The political marriage was a golden opportunity you could not refuse.

After a moment in deep contemplation, you nodded, a hint of resignation in your eyes. “Very well, Feyd Rautha. I will marry you, for the sake of the empire.”

A light round of applause filled the throne room, a subtle acknowledgment of your wisdom and leadership, particularly with your father’s guidance.

With the agreement reached, you and Feyd were set to marry on the Imperial planet, your home world of Kaitain. The grand ceremony would not only solidify your union but also symbolize the merging of two powerful houses in the beginning of a new era for the empire.

The Wedding

As preparations began for the momentous occasion, whispers of anticipation echoed through the halls of both House Harkonnen and the imperial court. All eyes turned toward the upcoming union, curious to see how it would shape the future of the universe.

The wedding of you as Princess of the Empire and Feyd Rautha as Baron of Geidi Prime, was a spectacle beyond compare. A grand and meticulously planned event was set to take place befitting your powerful union.

Held on the sprawling garden grounds of your ancestral palace on the planet of Kaitain. The event drew the nobility of the entire universe, each eager to witness the dawn of a new era.

The palace grounds were adorned with opulent decorations, from cascading curtains of shimmering silk to intricate floral arrangements of the planet that perfumed the air with a soft fragrance. Illuminated shimmering lights and lanterns adorned every tree surrounding the wedding venue in the gardens, the scene was nothing short of majestic, impressive to all who beheld it.

As the ceremony commenced, you and Feyd stood before a gathering of esteemed guests, your regal attire resplendent in the soft glow of light under a full moon. Feyd, now adorned in the black ceremonial robes of an emperor, radiated confidence and authority, his presence commanding the attention of all who watched.

You wore a radiant and intricate shimmering silver bridal gown, exuding grace and poise as you exchanged vows with your new husband. Your union was not a joining of hearts but a merging of power.

Amidst the solemnity of the vows, there was also an undercurrent of excitement and anticipation, as guests whispered amongst themselves, speculating on the future of the empire under the rule of Emperor Feyd Rautha his Empress.

As the ceremony drew to a close, you exchanged a meaningful glance with Feyd, your hands entwined in a gesture of unity and strength. With the echoes of applause filling the air, you and Feyd stepped forward united, your ascension marking the dawn of a new era for the empire.

Wedding Night

As the celebrations wound down, you and Feyd retired to your private chambers. The suite was adorned with rich tapestries and ornate furniture, a testament to the wealth and power you now held. Despite the lavish surroundings, an air of tension hung between you two .

You, ever the picture of regal composure, sat by the window on an ornate coach, gazing out at the lush moonlit landscape of your planet Kaitan. You had known many sacrifices in your life, but this marriage was perhaps the greatest. Feyd, still in his wedding attire, approached you cautiously. Despite his outward confidence, he was acutely aware of the complex emotions and ambitions that swirled around your union.

“Empress,” he began, his voice a blend of courtesy and underlying steel. “Tonight, we have forged a new path for the empire. We must work together to ensure its stability and our place within it.”

You turned to face him, your eyes reflecting a mixture of determination and resignation. “I understand the necessity of our marriage, Feyd. But understand this: I will not be a mere pawn in your games. I have my own influence and my own goals.”

Feyd smiled, a sharp calculating expression that showed his appreciation for your spirit. “I would expect nothing less from you,Empress. I value your intelligence greatly. Together, we can achieve much.”

Despite your political alliance, there was an unspoken bond between you two. Both of you had been used by those more powerful, and both of you sought to carve out your own legacies. Feyd poured two glasses of wine and handed one to you, a gesture of tentative understanding.

“To our future,” he toasted, raising his glass.

You hesitated for a moment, then raised your glass as well. “To a future where we shape our own destinies.”

As you sipped the wine, the tension between you began to ease, replaced by a mutual understanding of your shared predicament. Feyd moved closer, taking a seat beside you. “Tell me, Empress, what is it you desire most in this new empire?”

Your eyes flickered with the intensity of your unspoken dreams. “I desire stability for the empire, prosperity for its people, and to be remembered not just as an empress, but as a ruler who shaped history.”

Feyd nodded, appreciating your ambition. “And I, too, seek to be more than just a Harkonnen. I want to be the emperor who brought order and power to the universe.”

Feyd refilled your wine glasses and you sat in silence for a moment, contemplating the future you would build together in marriage. Both of you recognized the potential for a powerful alliance. Feyd, with his ruthless ambition, and you, with your sharp intellect and royal connections, could become a force to be reckoned with.

With the wine taking effect you both began to really study each other. You were both breathtakingly attractive, each possessing a unique allure that captivated the other. Feyd’s handsome features and piercing blue eyes held a certain edginess, a magnetism that drew you to him. Despite the air of dark mystery that surrounded him, you found yourself utterly drawn to his presence.

In return, Feyd couldn’t help but be spellbound by your undeniable perfection. Your grace, your poise, your every movement seemed to exude a regal elegance that left him in awe. He had always admired you from afar, his gaze filled with the ambitions of his uncle to gain power and marry you, thus ascending to the throne.

Now that he finally had you, Feyd couldn’t deny the surge of emotion that coursed through him as he looked into your eyes.

He cautiously reached forward and pressed his hand to your face, feeling the warmth of your skin beneath his fingertips. To his delight, you smiled, mirroring his gesture by bringing your own hand up to rest on top of his own. In that simple exchange, he sensed your acceptance.

As your hands intertwined, you both felt the weight of silent expectations pressing down upon you, the need to solidify your relationship and secure your legacy.

With a tender touch, Feyd slid his hand from your cheek down to your collarbone, his thumb tracing a delicate path along your skin. He locked eyes with you, silently conveying his admiration and respect. With each lingering glance, he revealed his desire to possess you, to claim you as his own.

In that moment, you realized you held a sort of power over him, you could easily deny him and that was both thrilling and intimidating. Your eyes remained locked in silent communication and you couldn’t help but feel a surge of excitement at the thought of being his, completely and utterly. He was powerful and intelligent his handsomeness only adding to the allure.

Feyd’s hand ventured lower, his fingertips creating a tantalizing path across the hemline of your royal wedding gown, tracing the delicate lace at your exposed bosom. You instinctively pressed your hand over Feyds to stop him.

Your expression was unreadable as he met your gaze, a mask of composure concealing the depth of your attraction to him. Despite your desire for Feyd you were not willing to let him overtake you completely; you wanted to challenge him, to test the limits of your arrangement, dictating how you would allow him to proceed.

“You are… quite attractive Feyd Rautha,” you acknowledged, your voice maintaining its stoic facade. “However, physical appearance is of little consequence compared to one’s character and integrity.”

Feyd’s lips curved into a knowing smile at your response, catching the subtle flicker of attraction in your eyes. He recognized the game you were playing, sensing your desire to assert control over him, a challenge he was more than willing to meet.

“Your wisdom is as striking as your beauty,” he replied, his voice low and measured. “I value your perspective, Empress, and rest assured, I intend to prove myself worthy of both your character and integrity tonight” Feyd assured with lingering gaze. As he spoke, you felt a warmth spread through you in the way he hinted at his desires.

Even in his lust for you, Feyd recognized the depth of your significance. Your irresistible combination of intelligence and authority were qualities that both enticed and challenged him, fueling his desire to assert dominance. He was intoxicated by the allure of your mind and your power.

As Feyd set your wine glasses aside, the moment thickened with anticipation as you locked eyes. The soft glow of the moon illuminating your faces, casting an ethereal aura around you both.

Feyd’s gaze darkened with such an intense sensuality that it sent waves of anticipation racing through you. The power play in his head was finalized. His certainty surged as he observed the anticipation in your eyes, knowing he could conquer you completely.

He rested back in confidence a smile playing on his lips “You are a formidable force my Empress,” Feyd confessed, his voice low and husky with desire. “But I would expect nothing less from a woman of your stature.” He grinned.

You met his gaze with a coy smile, your eyes glinting with sexual intrigue. “And yet, you seem to be equally formidable as my emperor,” you chided.

Feyd’s gaze locked onto yours with a silent challenge; if your eyes faltered he would take you, and when your eyes slowly drifted to his lips, he seized you without a word, pulling you close and dominating your mouth in a commanding kiss.

His hands tightened around your waist, pulling you flush against him, a silent demand for your surrender and you placed your hands to cup his strong jaw accepting his passion.

With a fervor that bordered on possessiveness, he deepened the kiss, his lips claiming yours with an intensity that ignited a fire within you, his dominance evident in every movement. Every touch, every sensation sent waves of desire coursing through your veins, your body responding to the passion of his kiss with a fervor you had never known.

As you finally parted, your heart raced with exhilaration, your senses still reeling from the intensity of the encounter. You gazed into Feyd’s eyes, your own filled with a new found passion and longing, knowing that this kiss had changed everything between you both.

In the moonlight, you looked radiant your swollen lips and flushed face captivating Feyd even more. He felt the desire coursing through him, a primal urge to possess you completely. With stoic determination, he stood and offered you his hand.

“Come, Empress,” he said in a dominant manner, his voice tinged with authority, reminding you of his status as emperor. Despite his respect for you, he made it clear that you belonged to him.

You slowly stood, feeling a rush of heat in your chest as you took his hand. Looking up at him, you felt a mixture of desire and anticipation, your heart pounding with each step as he led you to the bedchamber.

The Consummation

As you reached the ornate doors of the entrance, you shared a lingering glance, a silent exchange of anticipation and desire. With a gentle squeeze of your hand, Feyd released you, and you parted ways to your dressing chambers to change into the ceremonial robes in line with the Kaitan tradition to consummate your union.

You felt a mix of excitement and nervousness as you prepared yourself for the momentous occasion ahead. As you slipped into your robe, the weight of your responsibilities as empress settled upon your shoulders. Yet, beneath the thin layer of you silk robe you felt a flutter of excitement, a sense of anticipation for what was to come with Feyd.

Meanwhile, Feyd adorned himself in robe befitting his status as emperor, his thoughts consumed by the significance of the event that lay ahead. He knew that tonight would mark a new chapter in your relationship, one that would bind you together in ways you had never imagined.

Emerging from your separate rooms, you stood across from each other in the grandeur of the palace bedchamber.

Your robe was a vision of opulence, crafted from silk spun with threads of gold, adorned with intricate filigree along the edges. It draped elegantly around you, the fabric flowing softly with each movement. In contrast, Feyd’s robe was a symbol of regal simplicity, midnight black in color, its rich fabric enveloped him like a cloak of shadows.

As you met in the center of the palace bed chamber, your eyes were both drawn to the centerpiece of the room, an ornate bed fit for royalty. Carved from the finest Kaitain wood with hand painted gilding, the bed’s towering posts reached towards the vaulted ceiling, intricately adorned with motifs of delicate florals. Luxurious silk curtains, the same hue as your robe, cascaded down from the canopy tied to its posts, creating an aura of privacy and intimacy.

Feyd reached out and took your hand pulling you close“We are stronger together,” he said softly his voice conveying the depth of your shared resolve.

You nodded, feeling the heat of his body against yours and leaning in closer, as your arms wrapped around his neck. With your chest o pressed against his you looked up into his eyes “Yes, we are,” you agreed, your voice filled with anticipation.

With a determined look you leaned in and pressed your lips to Feyd’s and his hands instinctively wrapped around your waist, pulling you closer, unable to resist you.

Your kiss was filled with purpose, a silent acknowledgment of the responsibilities you shared. Feyd returned your kiss with intensity, boldly enveloping your mouth with his own. In a daring move, he slid his hand down your front, his fingers deftly working at the knot to untie the silk robe draping your figure.

You broke the kiss, your resolve firm as you gently pushed Feyd back asserting your power. You held his gaze with unwavering determination as you slowly loosened the knot of the robe on your own accord.

“True strength lies not in dominance Feyd, but in the art of giving and receiving” you said seductively as you you pulled the robe apart only slightly. Your movements were deliberate, savoring the moment to reveal yourself to him completely.

You knew the reputation of Harkonnen men, aggressive and often brutal, but you sensed Feyd would be gentle with you. Seeing the admiration he held for you in his eyes you were prepared to fulfill him as his Empress.

Feyd watched you with a mixture of admiration and reverence as you allowed the silk to slip from your shoulders, revealing yourself to him inch by tantalizing inch until it gathered in a shimmering heap on the floor. Feyds gaze lingered on your figure in awe as you stood before him, your naked form bathed in the soft glow of the room’s moonlight. Your skin was smooth and flawless accentuated by the gentle curves of your body.

Feyd couldn’t help but feel a surge of desire stir within him. Your beauty was breathtaking, a vision of regal grace and elegance that captivated his senses. He swiftly untied and discarded his robe, revealing his sculpted physique beneath and leaving you stunned. Your gaze was immediately drawn to the impressive length of his throbbing, engorged cock.

You regained your senses and slowly drew your eyes back up to study the rest of his ivory skinned body. He was striking and tall, a warrior in every sense. His muscular physique was evident, his chiseled arms, defined abs, and powerful legs spoke of strength and resilience. But most of all, your gaze lingered on the thick, pulsating shaft of his cock, its veiny texture and prominent head a testament to his overwhelming desire for you.

He grinned seeing your gaze unwavering on the size of his cock “Don’t worry Empress, I will prepare you for it.” he reassured with a confident tone.

His words made your chest rise and fall with each breath, trying to contain your excitement. He pulled you close, the warmth of his skin against yours sending a wave of anticipation washing over you. When the firmness of his stiff cock brushed against your thighs, it caused you to tremble with anticipation.

“Don’t fear, Empress ,” Feyd said gently, his voice soothing your nerves. “I will take good care of you.” He vowed.

“I trust you Feyd” you responded, your voice barely above a whisper

His words calmed your racing heart, and his lips captured yours again as a fire ignited within you, consuming you with desire. Feyd’s hands reached down to your full bosom, his touch gentle yet possessive as he caressed each one, his thumbs tracing delicate patterns around your nipples. His grasp tightened his hunger evident in the way he cupped your breasts together squeezing the softness of your flesh pressing against his palms. The sensation sent waves of pleasure coursing through you, making your heart pound faster within his firm grasp.

Your hand shakily came up to touch the side of his face, a silent plea for him to slow down, to savor the moment. Instead he brought his hand down between your legs, exploring your folds, his fingertips swirling your entrance to feel your arousal for him.

His touch sent shockwaves of pleasure throughout your body as he dipped into your wetness, igniting a fire within you that threatened to consume you completely.

Feyd’s voice was husky with desire as he whispered, “Do you like it, my Empress? Do you want more?” His words echoed in the air, adding to the intensity of the moment as he waited for your response, his own desire burning in his eyes.

You could barely hold his gaze as his fingers slipped through your wet folds. Your voice came out shaky as you stuttered, “Y-yes Feyd.” He grinned at your response, a surge of triumph coursing through him as he finally pushed his fingers deeply inside of you, filling you up with each thrust. Waves of pleasure washed over you, making you shudder and tighten around him.

As he continued his ministrations, moans of pleasure escaped you with each thrust of his fingers. You felt tight inside, nearing the peak of release. Feyd pulled you closer, his breath hot against your ear as he whispered, “I will fulfill you many times tonight, empress. You will find my attraction for you is insatiable.” His confession sent shivers down your spine, and you wrapped your hands around his firm biceps, losing yourself in the sensation of his thrusts.

His hand, rough and strong, moved with a precise, almost relentless rhythm as he increased the speed of his fingers. They became soaked as he slipped them in and out of you, and moans of pleasure began to fall from your lips, each thrust driving you closer to the brink of ecstasy.

Feeling your tightness gripping against him, Feyd knew that your release was imminent. Your walls convulsed as you suddenly orgasmed, your head tilting back in shock as a short, pleasure-filled sound escaped from your throat. Feyd held you tightly against him as waves of ecstasy washed over you, enveloping you both in the blissful aftermath of passion. He continued to finger you, prolonging the pleasure as long as possible, savoring every moment of your shared ecstasy.

The intensity of the moment was overwhelming, the first orgasm of the night coursing through you with undeniable force. You felt a sense of relief wash over you, sighing in contentment looking into Feyds eyes as he withdrew his fingers from you.

His eyes smoldered with desire as he gazed at you, observing your descent from the high. Your mouth panting and your eyes lidded with the aftermath of pleasure. You felt a wave of exhilaration wash over you, a longing to surrender yourself completely to him.

“Take me, Feyd,” you relented, your voice barely above a whisper, laden with anticipation.

Feyd’s gaze darkened with desire as he leaned in, drawing your body closer into his embrace. His breath was hot against your skin, sending shivers of anticipation down your spine. Before I take you, Empress,” he confessed, his voice thick with need, “I must taste you.”

Your eyes darkened with passion as you looked up at him, you voice a breathless whisper as you replied, “Yes, Feyd taste me, devour me as you desire.” You wanted him to consume you, and claim you for his own pleasure, dominating you in the most intimate of ways.

He smiled pulling you in close and trailed kisses along your neck. His lips lingered as he teased your nipples, discovering your hidden weakness as you responded to his touch with a soft gasp. He tugged your peaks gently into his fingers, rolling them between his thumb and forefinger, eliciting more soft gasps of pleasure from you. His touch alternated between teasing and pinching, each sensation sending waves of desire coursing through your body.

“Does my Empress want more ?” he whispered huskily against your ear. He pulled back to look into your eyes seeking permission to indulge you further in the pleasure he offered.

Though it was only the second time he asked you to indulge in more you were already at your limit, your mind clouded with desire for him. You wanted everything he had to give.

You could barely form words as you nodded and a weak “Y-yes Feyd” fell from your lips. A hint of pride gleamed in his eyes

“As you wish, Empress,” he said, his voice sensual as he cupped your breasts in his hands. Feyd lavished attention on them, his lips and tongue exploring every inch with a mix of reverence and hunger. He suckled each nipple, teasing them with his tongue tracing delicate circles around them.

Feyd sensed your responsiveness as you panted and stared at him with lust. He intensified his movements, flicking his tongue across your sensitive peaks with his eyes locked on yours filled a primal hunger. You watched him tantalize you causing desperate little cries to escape from your lips.

He knew he was making you lose yourself to the pleasure he was giving you, and he reveled in the power it gave him.

An intense moan of pleasure fell from your lips as you gazed down at Feyd sucking on each of your breasts with calculated precision. He teased pulling your nipple into his mouth with enough suction to send tingles of sensation coursing through your body. Your response was immediate, a loud moan filling the room as you surrendered yourself to the overwhelming sensations he was evoking.

“Feyd, take me please!” You begged again, your voice trembling with desire. He released you nipple from his mouth and paused to assess your condition. Your thighs glistened with arousal, and you body quivered with anticipation. He lifted you into his arms and easily carried you to lay in the center of the ornate bed. The silk sheets were cool against your overheated skin. Feyd settled between your legs, his hands trailing down your body ready to fulfill your every desire.

“Empress, I told you I would fulfill you several times tonight” he grinned , parting your legs gently. “I will give you what you desire, but like I said I must devour you first,” he clarified.

You nodded feeling so overcome with desire for him you were trembling.

With a tender touch, Feyd parted your folds, holding them open as he leaned down and pressed his warm mouth onto you. You arched your back, fingers gripping the silk sheets tightly as you surrendered yourself to the intoxicating sensation.

He started with slow, teasing licks, savoring the taste of your arousal. His tongue moved with purpose, tracing intricate patterns along your sensitive clit, each stroke designed to elicit the most powerful sensation.

He explored every crevice and fold committing your taste and texture to memory. With each pass of his tongue, he felt your muscles spasm in response, a sign of your overwhelming pleasure.

Feyd’s movements became more intense, his tongue delving deeply into your throbbing core coaxing your release with deliberate licks. His focus solely on driving you to the pinnacle of ecstasy.

Suddenly, your thighs tightened around his head, a silent reaction that you were at your peak. Feyd added his finger to stroke your clit, intensifying the sensation even more, driving you to the edge of release. Every muscle in your body tensed as you toppled the peak, and with a cry of euphoria, you came in his mouth gently bucking your hips against him, lost in the throes of pleasure. He held you steady, stimulating you with his mouth and tongue to prolong your ecstasy. He savored every drop of your essence, fulfilling the desire he had harbored since the moment he laid eyes on you.

He wiped his mouth as he sat up and grinned seeing you lay panting on the bed gazing up and him in pure surrender.

Feyd’s intentions were clear; he had long contemplated your dynamic. Despite speaking of unity, he always harbored the desire to assert dominance. Now he would consummate your union. With your political influence in his grasp, you would be his to command, forever bound to his will.

He moved closer, his eyes locked onto yours with a fierce intensity. “Empress , on this night, I will make you mine in every way. I will plant my seed within you, and you will bear my heir. You will be bound to me, body and soul.”

Your breath hitched, your heart pounding in your chest from his words with excitement and trepidation . Feyd’s hands roamed your body, his touch both possessive and intoxicating. “I will enjoy every moment of the creation,” he whispered, brushing his hand across your navel, knowing it would soon be a womb, the realization sent a wave of excitement down your spine. “You will carry my legacy within you and solidify my power.” Feyd declared.

You swallowed hard, meeting his gaze with a mixture of defiance and acceptance. “If that is my fate,” you replied, your voice steady but soft, “I will accept it. But remember, Feyd, power shared is power doubled. Together, we can be unstoppable.”

Feyd grinned at your final grasp for control, a glint of amusement in his eyes. “My Empress,” he said, voice dripping with satisfaction, “I see you understand the game well. Very well. Yes together, we will forge an empire unmatched.” he said. As he leaned in closer, his lips where inches from yours as he stated “But never forget who controls the empire”

You stared up at him in realization of your position and Feyds eyes burned with a fierce intensity reveling in his control over you. He seductively pushed your legs apart, positioning himself with commanding precision. His powerful, muscled body hovered over yours savoring the sight of your exposed vulnerability before he pressed his tip against your entrance and pushed into you with a single, forceful thrust. The sheer size of him filled you completely, eliciting a gasp of shock and pleasure from your parted lips.

He waited patiently, feeling the tension in your body gradually ease as you adjusted to his size. His hand pressed gently against your pelvis, feeling the bulge of himself inside you. The sensation of his own hardness through your flesh sent a wave of possessive satisfaction through him, intensifying his desire. He could feel every inch of himself enveloped by your warmth, and it fueled his hunger to drive you both to the edge of ecstasy.

When he sensed you relax completely around him, he began to slowly thrust. With each movement, the overwhelming presence of his size filled you entirely, causing light moans of astonishment to fall from your lips.

He was calculated with his movement, aggressive yet controlled, his hips pushing forward with an assertive dominance. Feyd’s thrusts were deep and powerful, driving you closer to the edge with each penetrating stroke. His grunts of exertion mingled with you your breathless moans, created a symphony of desire.

As he increased his speed, your moans grew louder, echoing through the room as your bodies moved in unison. The rhythm of his thrusts were relentless, each powerful drive of his hips pushing you further into a state of overwhelming pleasure.

Feyd’s hands roamed down your body, gripping your hips with possessive strength, pulling you to him with each thrust, making you feel every inch of his cock. The intensity of his movements had you gasping, your body arching in response to the overwhelming sensations. His presence was all consuming, his powerful form a dominating force over you.

As he pounded into you, the pressure built to an unbearable peak. Feyd’s relentless onslaught drove you to the brink, your body trembling under his aggressive passion. Your walls clenched and released rhythmically, pulling him deeper inside of you with every contraction as you cried out for him in passion. Feyd’s gaze locked onto yours, taking in every expression of pleasure that crossed your face, every gasp and moan that escaped your lips, fueled his desire to push you further.

He watched intently as your features shifted in response to his thrusts, your eyes fluttering shut, your lips parting in a silent cry of ecstasy. The flush of arousal painted your cheeks, your skin glowing with a sheen under the dim light of the chamber. Each thrust elicited a symphony of gasps and moans from you, your body arching and writhing beneath him in the throes of pleasure.

“Surrender….-to …-me,” Feyd rasped, his voice rough with desire as he felt your impending release as your walls spasmed on his cock. “Give yourself …-to me entirely .” He demanded intensifying his movements, driving into you with deliberate force, determined to send you spiraling over the edge.

He aimed to draw out the most intense pleasure in you, his own arousal heightened by the sight of your ecstasy. ”I am yours Feyd!” You cried out as your orgasm crashed through you like a tidal wave, he reveled in the sight of your blissful surrender, your face a portrait of unbridled passion. Your loud cries of pleasure echoing throughout the chamber as your body quivered in aftershock.

Feyd continued to move in you, riding out the waves of you climax, his own release approaching. You saw him with an intensified clarity; his muscles, chiseled and defined, flexed and rippled with each powerful thrust. His body moved with a primal force, every movement driving you further into the depths of ecstasy.

His face was a display of raw emotion. His brow furrowed with intensity and his jaw clenching in a mixture of pleasure and restraint. His piercing blue eyes bore into yours with an unyielding intensity, captivating you completely.

You saw him not just as an Emperor, but as a man consumed by the same primal urges resonating within you; power and control. With each heavy thrust, he conveyed his intent, driving into you with deliberate force, his movements a testament to his primal desire to claim you. “You’re mine,” he breathed, his words mingling with the sounds of your passion “Mine to possess….-mine to cherish…-mine to carry my heir.” He rasped

Your response was a moan of pleasure, as you barely formed the words . “Y-yes Feyd!,” against the powerful dominance of his thrusts.“I’m Yours,” you confessed surrendering to him completely.

Feyd’s lips turned into a satisfied grin savoring the sweet taste of victory. He had bent you to his will, your submission igniting his desire even further.

With a sudden, forceful motion, he pushed your legs up and to the sides in a mating press, positioning himself to dominate you entirely. His intensity increased, driving into you with renewed vigor, reveling in the power he now held over you. He buried himself deeper inside of you with each thrust, his grip on your thighs tightening, holding you firmly in place.

Your moans grew in intensity, mingling with breathless gasps and soft cries of pleasure. Each powerful thrust sent waves of ecstasy coursing through your body, your senses overwhelmed by his relentless assault.

Each powerful thrust, reinforced his control, his need to leave his mark on you was undeniable. With a guttural growl, he gave one last, powerful thrust, his body tensing as he released his hot seed deep inside of you. The sensation of his essence filling you made your core tighten to the breaking point and you locked eyes with him as your body shattered against his, losing yourself entirely to the ecstasy of the moment.

Your cries echoed throughout the chamber, a symphony of pure, unrestrained passion, your body arching and writhing beneath him as he rode you through the waves of your orgasm. When your walls stopped spasming, he gently released your legs and lay on top of you remaining deep inside. He rested on his elbows his strong arms cradling around your trembling form as you quivered in the aftershocks of pleasure.

He caressed your face tenderly, placing kisses across your flushed skin.

"We are stronger together," he said with his voice full with conviction and warmth. "Our union will ensure the future of the empire, and our heir will inherit that strength," he said, trailing his fingers across your jaw.

He looked into your eyes with deep conviction, his gaze unwavering.

"I may control the Empire, but it is you who controls my legacy Empress," he conceded his voice softer full of sincerity and reverence.

You smiled, a tender and knowing smile.

"Power shared is power doubled," you said, your voice a gentle caress. You traced your fingertips along his strong jawline and he leaned resting his forehead to yours before he gently kissed you, sealing your vows.

He then gently withdrew himself, the wet, slick sound of his cock sliding free echoing in the room, leaving you breathless and trembling. With delicate precision, he carefully turned you onto your left side to face him. His hands guiding your legs to press tightly together at an angle to ensure his seed remained deep inside of you as you slept.

Feyd’s eyes darkened with determination as he watched over you, his resolve to ensure you bore his child growing stronger with each passing moment. He gently stroked your hair, a possessive yet tender gesture.

“Rest now,” he murmured, his voice soft but commanding. “Accept my seed within you, let it take root and grow.” He said placing his hand to rest protectively over your abdomen as if willing the life within you to thrive.

His words lingered as you lay together and the warmth of each other's closeness calmed you. Slowly, your eyes grew heavier, and you felt his breathing slowly sync with yours.

Keeping your gaze locked on his, you felt a sense of contentment wash over you that mirrored the softness of his eyes and you slowly drifted into a peaceful sleep together fulfilled in both body and purpose

In the harsh and unforgiving empire of the universe, you and Feyd hold the ultimate conquest in a game of life and death, power, where his strength and your cunningness prevail.

✨End ✨

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absurdthirst · 4 months

Text

The Empress and the Gladiator {Gladiator!Pero x F!Reader}

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 14.2k

Warnings: Fingering, oral sex (male and female receiving), loss of virginity, star crossed lovers, mentions of war/death, vaginal sex, mentions of sex workers, rough sex, blood/gore, death, animal cruelty, gladiatorial games, pregnancy

Comments: Destined to become Empress of Rome, your heart has always been Pero Tovar's. When your father decides to host an gladiatorial tournament with your hand in marriage as the prize, Pero becomes the gladiator you are rooting for in the colessum.

A/N: With Gladiator 2 coming out this year, thots turned to Rome. While reader is Empress, no physicality has been described other than 'Roman'.

Co-written with @storiesofthefandomlovers

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|| MasterList || Pero Tovar MasterList ||

Click Keep Reading only if you have read the Rating and Warnings and understand the warnings may not be complete to avoid listing spoilers. As AO3 says 'creator chooses not to use warnings'. You also agree that you're the right age to be consuming anything here.

“Pay attention.” Your tutor, Maximus, tuts as you stare out of the doorway to the courtyard. Your scrolls are messy on your table and the breeze through your hair makes you long to be outside and not studying the gods. You hear the clashing of swords and watch as Pero Tovar fights his mentor, a man named Julius, while his mother tends to your needs. His mother is your matron, taking care of your needs like your own mother would if she were still alive. After her untimely death when you were born, your father had brought in a matron while he searched for another wife. He’s had two more since your mother’s death but he claims to be cursed as both women also lost their lives during birth…and their babies. The sole child of the Emperor of Rome, you are in line to be Empress. Something that has never happened. The man you marry shall be by your side and your father had petitioned the senate to allow you to rule, for him to mold you into the perfect leader for the next generation. The senate had agreed and now, you spend your days learning about Seneca and Cicero instead of painting or strolling the gardens. You have been taught to read, you know the laws of the empire, and you have been trained in all manner of war. You are preparing to become Empress of Rome. You just need a husband. Turning your eyes away from Pero, you look back at your scrolls and continue your lesson. Little do you know that Pero is also watching you. His mother, bless her soul, was widowed by his father who fought for the empire. He lost his life in battle and the Emperor let his mother stay in the palace with her son to tend to his newborn daughter. Pero knows he will be sent to train with the army soon. He will fight as his father once did. However, he will be leaving his heart in the palace with you.

****

You walk through the gardens after your lesson, Pero long gone from the courtyard, and you are caressing a flower when you hear your name. “Why are you here alone?” Pero asks, his voice gruff and demanding, “you should not be outside without an escort.”

You huff and roll your eyes, aware of and annoyed by the fact that if you were a man no one would even question you walking alone. “I am in my own courtyard.” You turn to look at the older Spanish boy. Even if you have grown up together, he has filled out with muscle and grown taller over the past few years. “I am the future Empress and I can go and do whatever I wish.” You straighten your spine even though you know your father would not approve of being alone. Too many of his enemies would seek to use you for their own gain. You frown and look around, all the servants out of sight and no one nearby to hear you. “Why are you here, Pero?”

Pero stares at you for a moment, the moonlight reflecting on your face, and he can't help but be reminded of how beautiful you are. When your face is carved from marble and the coins are gold with your profile, he will be one of many to admire your beauty. Your moxie makes him bite his lip to smother a smile and he waits until your eyes fix on him. "I am taking a stroll. Getting some fresh air and admiring the grounds before I have to leave." He sighs, looking down at the grass beneath his feet.

“That’s right, you are leaving……” you frown at the reminder that tomorrow morning he will be leaving for the war that is being fought near Constantinople. You have spent all of your formative years around the man who you have come to view as more than a mere childhood friend. You’ve never seen him as a brother and now your heart quickens at his nearness. “Tonight is your last night in Rome,” you venture softly. “You should make the most of it. Most men would be visiting the taverns, or the whorehouses that I am supposed to pretend don’t exist.” His head shoots up, eyes wide and you smirk. “Or do you prefer the company of the men in the bathhouses?”

Pero raises his eyebrows and he offers you a wry smile, “don’t you know it all, emperatriz?” He chuckles and you snort, “I even know about Hispania.” Pero is impressed by your knowledge of the reality outside of the marble walls you wander in. It will serve you well. “To answer your question, I wish to spend my last night here since I will not be able to return. My barracks will be my new home and I will miss this palace…and you.” He confesses, his dark eyes meeting yours, “I have no need for wine or for women when what I truly want is right in front of me.”

Pero is handsome, his dark eyes seemingly even darker with the same emotion that makes your core throb and turn slick with need. You aren’t unaware of what happens between men and women, even if you are untouched. Untouched beyond your own fingers between your thighs when you lay in the dark, listening to the rustle of the wind against the curtains of your bed. “Pero….” You step closer to him, biting your lip as you inhale deeply, aware your father would have you beaten and Pero executed, but you don’t care. He could die, never to return, and you don’t want to live the rest of your life without knowing what it is like to be touched by him. “Tonight, the future empress will entertain you.” You decide, telling him boldly. “In ten minutes, climb to my balcony.”

Pero’s cock twitches under his tunic and he bows his head, “I will be in your service tonight, empress.” He murmurs, knowing he could be hung for this but it’s worth it. You are worth it. No longer the little girl who used to annoy him when he wanted to play gladiator with his friends, he wants the beautiful woman you’ve become. The oils you bathe in hit his nose and he swallows, taking a step back from you. He looks around to make sure no one saw him speaking to you alone and he strides off, knowing that you will be able to make it back to your quarters alone.

The slap of your sandals accompanies the rustle of your skirts as you hurry along the columned corridor to your quarters. Servants rush to bow, but you pay them no mind as your excitement has you eager to lock yourself into your room. Bursting through the door startles your servant, Corda. “My gods!” She huffs and you shake your head. “Fetch me a tray and wine, then you are dismissed.” You instruct her, making her jaw drop. “But-“ “No buts, Corda!” You hiss, taking a breath and smiling at her to not make her suspicious. “I know you wish to spend one last night with Gavros.” You hum, smirking slightly at her guilty expression. “Fetch my food and drink and then go enjoy yourself.” Her lover is also in the group that Pero will be accompanying to the war.

She bows her head and turns, making her way out of your quarters to fetch your tray and wine. She returns a few minutes later and sets the tray down. “Good night, my lady.” She murmurs, turning and shutting the doors behind her. The gauzy drapes are flowing onto the balcony as Pero climbs the trellis to swing his leg onto the balcony. He grunts as he stumbles but recovers to stand outside of your room. “emperatriz.” He whispers, hoping no one is in your quarters.

“Pero?” You look through the sheer fabric to see him hovering outside and push them aside to usher him in. “Come in.” You command, hoping no one saw him climb up. You don’t wish for the night to be disrupted and you know that if Corda is off gallivanting, no one should come to disturb you. Everyone is celebrating the troops leaving and you are happy that your father is busy as well. He steps inside your room and the curtain falls into place, giving you the illusion of blocking out the world. “You came.”

Pero offers you a soft smile, his hands suddenly damp. “Of course, hermosa. How could I not?” He asks you, “I am leaving tomorrow and if I don’t return, I want you to know…I want you to know that I would kneel before you as my Empress, as your loyal soldier, as your friend, and if you’ll have me, as your lover.” He murmurs, not touching you. You are pure and he could be killed for even being in your quarters.

Your body trembles at his confession, knowing that you feel the same way. He can be coarse and cross at times, but you love him. Reaching up to your shoulder, you unhook the gold leaf brooch that keeps your dress on your body. Letting it fall to the floor so you stand in front of him, completely naked. “Take off your tunic, Pero.” You command, lifting your chin. “I wish to inspect my soldier.”

His eyes widen at the beauty before him. Your body bare and his mouth is dry, his cock hardening as he takes in a sight that most mortals will never bear witness to. He kicks off his sandals and reaches for the hem of his tunic, pulling it over his head to display his naked body to your hungry eyes. He stands straight, arms by his side as he awaits your inspection.

You inhale sharply, taking in the hard planes and chiseled lines of his body. The rigorous training has taken the boy's soft body and turned it into the hard sculpture of a soldier, your warrior. He has given you the power and it emboldens you to step forward, reaching out and stroking the smooth muscle of his chest. Biting your lip when you feel it move under your hand and let it drop down to brush against the thick length that juts out proudly from his groin.

Pero groans under his breath, his eyes closing as he lets you touch him how you please. He stands still, not lifting his hands to touch you. You are in charge tonight, his soon to be Empress. You will have what you want because tomorrow, he will leave and this night will be a memory he cannot share with anyone.

“Beautiful.” You murmur quietly, looking into his eyes. “This is for me.” You don’t ask, because you know that it is. Your fingers wrap around his cock and you marvel at how hard and soft he feels in your hand. “How long have you thought of me?” You ask. “Do you think of me when you visit the whorehouses? When you sink into a woman?”

"Yes." He doesn't bother lying. After tonight, you will be betrothed to another and he will likely be killed in battle. He has tonight so he will give you everything, all he has to offer. "Every time." He confesses, knowing that he paid those women to be faceless, imagining you in their place. You jerk him and he groans, letting you touch him as you please and he prays to the gods that he holds off long enough to give you pleasure.

You moan softly, loving how he responds to your touch. His confession of thinking of you while fucking making your cunt drip. “When I slide my fingers into my cunt, I think of you.” You confess. “How you would feel, how you would taste.” You squeeze him slightly as he groans your name. “How you would touch me. You know of such things, you have touched women before. Can you make my body shake in pleasure?”

He nods, throat tightening with arousal as you squeeze him again. "I can make my Empress shake in pleasure until she can take no more." He assures you, "I have learned well from the brothels. I want to show you, emperatriz."

“I am supposed to be pure, to stay pure, until I take a husband.” You remind him. “But I will not be pure.” You let go of his cock and step back. “Because I will have given my purity to my love. The one who holds my heart.” You reveal softly.

His heart pounds in his chest and he reaches for you, grabbing your waist, and he leans in to press his lips to yours. He doesn’t want to hold back knowing he could die and never know your touch. He tilts your head to kiss you, sliding his tongue into your mouth, and he backs you towards your bed.

Now that his hands are on you, he is in complete control. You moan, reaching up and twisting your finger into the short hair at the base of his skull. You can’t do much with it, but you tug gently, wishing it was longer. “Pero…” you whimper when he breaks away from his lips to kiss down your throat. “Pero, please, make me yours for tonight.”

He grabs the back of your thighs, lifting you up to carry you onto the bed. He lays you down, the silk sheets beneath you and he hovers above you, taking you in. You’re gorgeous. Aphrodite incarnate. He leans down to kiss along your throat, his hand caressing your thigh as he settles between your legs.

You should feel exposed, vulnerable, but you feel nothing but the heat of his gaze. Again, your hands slide along his skin and you map the muscles. Knowing that tonight will be a memory that you will cherish forever, keeping it locked away in your heart. “You are so….sexy.”

Pero slides his hand along your thigh up to your breast and he tilts his head so he can dip down and take your nipple into his mouth. Your words make his cock twitch and his stomach clench, knowing you find him attractive. He loves it. He loves you. Your back arches into his mouth and he bites down on your nipple, soothing the sting with his tongue.

“Pero!” Your eyes close and your back arches up from the bed to his mouth. Every pull of his mouth shoots straight to your cunt and makes it clenches. “Oh gods.” Your leg lifts and you rub the back of your foot against his leg, enjoying the roughness of his hair.

He switches to your other breast, loving the way you cry out his name. “Shush, my love. The guards will hear you.” He warns you, pulling back from your breast and he presses kisses along your stomach, settling between your thighs. Your cunt, covered by curls, has him groaning your name. You smell like the oils you use and something tangy that has him moaning as he wastes no time surging forward to slide his tongue through your folds.

Your gasp is loud, catching your breath and making your breast shake. Your hands grip the sheets and you can’t believe that he is going this. You’ve heard about the pleasure to be had, but you’ve never thought that it would happen for you.

He flicks his tongue over your clit just as the whores had taught him. He sucks your clit into his mouth, his hands caressing your thighs and he groans at the tangy taste of your arousal. You taste like honey. He pushes your thighs further apart and slides his tongue down to push it inside of you.

“Oh fuck.” You moan, clenching your jaw before you have to lift your head and look down at him between your thighs. You had expected him to just take you, but he was surprisingly good at giving pleasure. “You should just stay and spend all day doing this to me.” You moan out the praise as your hips jerk up to meet his eager tongue.

Pero lifts his head from your cunt, his chin glistening as he smirks, “I would spend every day worshiping you if it were possible, mi emperatriz.” He assures you, sliding his tongue through your folds again and he sucks on your clit. His hand slides along your thigh until he’s pushing two fingers slowly inside of you.

His fingers are thick, so much thicker than your own. Making you whimper out his name again, drowning in the pleasure that he pulls from you as he presses them deep. “Yes.” You sigh. “I love you, Pero.”

He loves hearing you say that. His fingers stretch you out for his cock. He pumps them a little faster and leans in to take your clit into his mouth, sucking. He wants you to fall apart for him, to tell him you love him enough times to last him a lifetime because that’s what he will need.

You know that it’s wrong for you to give yourself to Pero. You should have saved it for the man who would become your husband, the man who would help you rule Rome after your father dies. You don’t care, your heart belongs to Pero and you want to give him a part of yourself you can never have back. You chant the words of love over and over as he works you up, until your entire body bucks with broken cry. Your cunt bearing down on his fingers and soaking them with your pleasure.

He loves the way you soak his fingers. Working you through it, he groans into your wet flesh. His cock is hard against the sleeping mat beneath you, and he is aching to be inside of you. He groans your name and kisses back up your body until his lips find yours and he slides his tongue into your mouth so you can taste yourself.

The taste of your cunt on his lips has you moaning, enjoying the flavors mixed tongue and you want to taste him too. “Pero-“ you whimper, making him pull away to look at you as if he wonders if you have changed your mind. “Can I do that to you? Suck your cock?” You’ve heard the servants talk about it, even watched as it happened in the shadows, but you’ve never done it.

Pero's cock twitches at the thought but he can't imagine defiling you like that. Just to touch you like this is enough for him to be killed and his soul to be damned by Pluto. "I am yours for whatever you wish, mi amor, but I must warn you that you cannot do too much otherwise this will be over far too soon." He has wanted you for so long, watched you from afar, and the thought of you touching him in that way already has his stomach clenching.

You push him onto his back as you decide to take his pleasure into your hands. “You will tell me before you find your release.” You say it like it is a forgone conclusion and lean forward to press your lips to his. Then breaking away to kiss down his chest, eager to see how he reacts to your mouth on him. If you only have tonight, you want to gorge yourself on him.

His breath catches in his chest and he watches you make your way to his cock, wrapping your fingers around it and he loves the lust in your eyes. He loves how much you want him. "Fuck." He hisses when you pump his length, the foreskin pulled down to reveal the leaking head.

You preen under his rough praise, feeling the way he twitches and pulses in your hand and against your tongue. It’s thrilling to learn that he enjoys this and you open your mouth wider to take more of his length down your throat.

You moan around him and he twitches in your mouth, loving how you feel surrounding him. You feel incredible. “Fuck, hermosa.” He grunts as you explore his cock with your mouth and tongue.

Giggling slightly, you pull off of him and decide to lick him. Making him groan again. “You must love this, all the noise you are making.” You know that he can be as loud as he wants, no one is in this wing of your home beside you. You tease him and then lick him again. “Tell me what you have imagined while a whore’s mouth is on your cock.”

Pero can’t believe how naughty you are for an innocent woman. “I imagined - imagined this. You. Your mouth wrapped around my cock. My cock inside of you. You. I wanted you while I was giving them my cock, my coin.” He confesses breathlessly as you jerk his cock.

You hum, feeling slightly jealous of them, even if you cannot have a claim in this man. He is free to do whatever he wants, with whomever. Now, you just enjoy the fact that he wants to be yours. “You have me, Spaniard.” You promise, ducking your head down to take him back into your mouth.

He loves hearing you claim he has you when both of you know you only have tonight. He groans when you take him deeper and his stomach clenches. “Hermosa. You can’t - I don’t want this to end too soon.” He chokes, not wanting to finish without making you clench down on his cock.

Reluctantly, you let go of him and kiss back up his body. “You will stay the night, yes? We can do that again after?” You know men can find pleasure more than once and you hope that he is also like those fools who like to brag about being able to rut all night.

He nods, "I will stay there night then I will go before sunrise. We cannot risk getting caught." He promises and pulls you up so he can kiss you, rolling you onto your back. "Are you certain?" He asks softly, nudging his nose with yours after he pulls back from the kiss, his cock pressing against your thigh.

“I have never been more certain of anything else.” You promise. “Not the gods or the Senate could make me change my mind.” Your hand caresses his cheek, the thin strip of a beard of his face slightly patchy with youth. “I love you, Pero. Tonight, make me a woman.”

He doesn't deny you. He can't deny you even if he tried. He reaches between you to grip his cock, pulling back his foreskin to slide the head through your folds until he is positioning his cock at your entrance. He watches you as he starts to push inside of you.

You expected pain and you expected nothing. You really didn’t know what to expect but the feeling of him filling you up is exquisite. Your mouth drops open as you moan his name again, your legs pulling back to take him deeper into your body and you know that you are forever changed.

Pero feels your innocence break and he pushes into you fully, making you his in a way no other will have you. He groans and leans in to kiss along your neck, taking a moment to let you adjust and he murmurs, "I love you."

You whine and wrap your arms around his neck. Closing your eyes and sighing softly. A piece of you is forever his and you know that your heart is his until eternity as well. You might marry for your position and have children, but your heart will be this Spaniard’s. “I love you, Pero.” You promise him. “Forever.”

Your promise makes his heart clench as he starts to move inside of you. He's in no rush. Not rutting into you like he would a whore he paid his coin to. He moves slowly, watching your face as you take him. You close your eyes as he adjusts the angle of his hips and he grunts when your walls clench around him. "Mi emperatriz hermosa." He murmurs as he kisses along your neck.

You know that he is being slow with you and it’s amazing. Making you feel every ridge and vein in his cock as they scrub along your sensitive walls. It’s love making in the purest form and you don’t want to let him go. Another soldier can go fight for the Emperor and Rome. Even if you know Pero would never agree to that, finding it to be cowardice. You have tonight. Wrapping your legs around his waist, you moan his name again. “Pero.”

Pero doesn't want to leave but he has no choice. He has no future here in the palace. He must leave and forge his own path. He has to accomplish something outside of these walls. He must fight for Rome and for the Emperor and one day, he will be fighting for you. His hand finds your thigh, lifting it higher so he can sink deeper and his lips find yours, sliding his tongue into your mouth.

Your moan is breathed into him, encouraging him. Letting him know that he is making you feel incredible. Your nails scratch down his back, not hard enough to break skin, but you wish to leave your mark on him. “Pero, gods, you- you are amazing. I have loved you for so long. Watched you fight in the courtyard and touched myself thinking of how you would touch me.”

Your words make him twitch inside of you and he groans your name, “always pumped my cock thinking of you. Fucked whores with you on my mind. You have my heart and I shall be leaving it here with you forever.” He promises, “you’ll have it until Pluto takes me.” He slides his hand between you, wanting to hear you cum one more time.

He is talented and you are lucky that he has been taught ways to please you. Making you moan again when he starts to rub the flesh above your cunt. “You take my heart with you to war.” You promise him. “It is yours, even if my body must be someone else’s, you had me first and you hold my heart always.”

Pero groans, rubbing your clit a little faster desperate to push you over the edge before he finishes. It’s overwhelming being inside of you and knowing that he will have to leave tomorrow, he is desperate to hear you cry out his name. “I’m yours, hermosa. I need to feel you.” He begs against your jaw as he presses desperate kisses there.

His words make your entire body tremble. You know your core is wound tight and the next time he plunges deep into your body, you shatter. Crying out loudly, your walls squeeze him tight and the liquid hot pleasure washes through you.

“Fuck.” He hisses as you clench down around his cock. He groans your name and tries to fuck you through it but he has held off long enough. It doesn’t take long, only a half dozen more thrusts, until he is pushing deep inside of you and filling you with his hot seed.

You close your eyes, memorizing how it feels and for a brief moment, you wish that you could have him stay and fill you up everyday until his seed takes root. Knowing that a child from Pero would be your favorite, even if he was a bastard. “Perfection.”

Pero kisses you, unwilling to move even as he softens inside of you. He murmurs your name and kisses you softly, caressing your thigh as you keep your legs wrapped around him. His heart aches knowing that this is the only time he will have you like this.

You catch your breath in the silence that lingers between you, both of you lost in your thoughts as you continue to stroke his back. “No wonder people love to take lovers.” You manage after a long moment. “If it is half as good as this, I know why the soldiers immediately go to the whore houses.”

Pero chuckles, “it isn’t as good as this because this is love making. The whorehouse’s are for fucking. This is love between us.” He knows that any man listening would hang him by his balls for being so soft but this is you and it’s your only night together. He won’t deny you how he feels when he won’t get to say it ever again.

“Oh.” You melt at how intimate it is, how romantic. It is like one of the great stories that is sometimes performed for the people. “We will never have this again, will we?” You ask practically, knowing that you could never love someone as much as you love Pero. You reach up and run your fingers through his hair. “At least we got to have each other tonight. Tomorrow you leave to fight for the glory of Rome and her Emperor.”

“And her empress.” He adds, nudging his nose against yours. He pulls out of you, groaning as he shifts to lay beside you before he pulls you into his chest and murmurs your name, “you will always have my heart. I will fight for Rome and for your glory.” He promises.

“Fight and live.” You urge him. “I hate the ‘die for the glory of Rome’ shit. I would rather you live. Live until you are an old man, gray in your hair.” You caress his chest and press a kiss to where his heart thumps in his chest.

Pero smiles, knowing it's unlikely he would grow old and even less likely he would grow old with you. He sighs and kisses your hair, "get some rest, amor. We have the night to enjoy before I must leave."

True to his word, Pero had taken you, again and again during the night. Rest only coming in small spurts before one of you was reaching for the other. On and on until your entire body aches with a secret hurt when the darkest part of the night passes and the faintest pink hue starts to gather on the horizon. The wine has been drunk, the food consumed and the water that is always available for you to clean yourself is dirty. Your eyes are gritty with sorrow and exhaustion as you watch your lover’s naked body begin to be covered back up as he dons his clothes.

Pero redresses while you watch him and he kneels on the bed when he's ready to go. He leans down to cup your cheek, leaning in to kiss you deeply. "Be happy, mi emperatriz. Don't wait for me. Find your happiness however you can." He urges, knowing he could never be with you. Your father would forbid it. "I love you. Siempre." He vows and nudges his nose against yours, kissing your forehead before he stands up straight and walks over to the doorway to leave your quarters. He looks back at you one last time before he sneaks out of your chambers, unaware that his mother is watching from the shadows.

Your eyes close on bitter tears after the door closes behind him, burying your face in the sheets you had shared with him. The scent of his body still lingers and you weep for the love that you know you will never be allowed to share with Rome.

Señora Tovar prepares your tray and carries it into your rooms, finding the silk sheets rumpled, two empty goblets and an empty food tray. There's no denying what happened here last night and she is glad she has prepared a tea. "Good morning." She declares as she walks into your room. She had dismissed Corda to prepare your tray herself.

You pull yourself out of the sheets at the sound of your lover’s mother, biting your lip to keep from crying even more. “Good morning.” You manage to mumble, your voice cracking slightly.

She comes over to you, setting your tray down on the bed. "I have prepared a tea for you, chiquita. We know you cannot afford for my son's seed to take." She speaks bluntly, "you must drink this and your secret will remain between us." She doesn't want to witness her potential grandchild be shunned by society. She wants the best for her son and her family, she needs to protect you as well.

Your mouth drops open in shock as you stare at her. “I- you- you know?” You ask, practically gasping the question and she chuckles softly as she shakes her head. “It was not hard to guess when I see my son sneaking out of your room looking like a man who has visited paradise and been banished.” She tells you. “He has been in love with you since you were children playing together and I know those feelings have never wavered.” You bite your lip, chin trembling. “I love him, too, mamá.” You have called her mama - like Pero - since you were young. She had been like a mother to you, but Pero was never your brother, even from a young age, your heart skipped a beat when he was near.

She reaches out to caress your cheek, "I know, amor. I know you do. He loves you too. You are meant to be together in another lifetime. Your souls will meet in another time. You cannot pursue him. It will mean his death. Let him go and keep last night in your memory, mija." She cups your cheek and offers you a soft smile, "now...drink the tea. It will ensure you aren't with child."

You don’t want to drink it, wanting for a moment to let his seed take root and defy everyone. Looking into her eyes, you sigh softly and pick up the tea. “I would carry his bastard proudly if he wouldn’t suffer for it.” You tell her before you take a sip. “I hope he comes home. Even if it can’t be to me.”

She sighs, watching you drink it. "I know, amor. You would both suffer. You know your father would never allow it. He would have Pero killed." She closes her eyes for a moment, "one day...you'll be married with a baby at your breast and you'll remember last night but you'll be happy and Pero...he will be shrouded in the glory of Rome." She hums, "you'll meet again and when you do, you'll be different people."

You know that you will not settle. You will have a man who makes you feel as Pero does or you will not take him as a husband. “Yes we will.” You hum sadly. “He will be a general of Rome and I will be her Empress.”

*****

"You cannot continue this juvenile resistance." Your father scoffs while you sit at the dining table, servants carrying food and wine to you but you reject the food and take the wine. "I do not wish to marry a man I do not love. Do you wish for me to be unhappy?" You hiss back and your father clenches his jaw.

"You have been a maiden for years. You should have married years ago and I am too soft. I allowed you to take your time, let you find a husband within our circles but you refuse. In the senate today, we discussed a way to ensure that the empress will have a suitable husband by her side. A tournament. I wish to have every eligible man fight for your hand in an arena."

You snort and roll your eyes. “Noble men would rather lavish their days away in the baths than fight, father.” You remind him, taking a sip of your wine. “Rome grows weak and yet you think I should marry one of them? What will they be fighting at? Who can belch the loudest?” You have had excuse after excuse to not marry, waiting for word from Pero as he is off fighting, but the years have passed and your father’s patience has given way to pressure from the senate.

"Not noble men. You need a warrior by your side. Someone who can assist you with battle strategy. You have not fought for our empire and you do not have the experience for war. You need a man beside you who can advise. You need a gladiator. I have requested the warriors of Rome to compete for your hand." He declares, "the General is particularly interested in your hand."

You grimace slightly but your father doesn’t see that. The general spends more time in Rome carousing than he does with his men in battle. You find him to be rude and demeaning, although you can never find someone nearby when he acts out. “Warriors.” You think of the warrior you would want and then look to your father. “Will all warriors be allowed, or only those you choose and rig the tournament with?”

Your father snorts, "I want a man who is battle worn and worthy of your hand. Any man can compete but it will be in the Colosseum and they will fight to the death. The hand of the future Empress is worth a man's life. He must die if he fails and you, my dear, will have the strongest warrior to be your husband, your partner after Pluto takes me."

Your brow raises at the news that it will be a fight to the death and you hum again, sipping your wine. “Sport will be had and a maiden won.” You snort, secretly pleased that you are not the maiden you pretend to be. “The crowds will love you for this, father.”

Your father hums, a smug smile on his face, "they will, won't there? We will send word to all that the best can compete for the hand of the most beautiful woman in Rome. The future Empress. May the best man win." He smirks, picking up his goblet.

****

Rome has changed since he has last been here. Pero frowns as he shuffles off the horse and groans slightly as he stands straight. He thinks of you, just he does every day and his eyes slide towards the palace where you would still be. “We got here just in time!” His friend, Octavious, slaps him on the back. “There is a tournament that will be held.” The barracks are rife with the news, every man boasting that he will enter. “The winner becomes the husband of our future Empress!”

Pero doesn't allow himself to react but he takes the scroll from his friend and reads the details. A tournament at the Colosseum - a fight to the death for the hand of the Empress. His jaw clenches and the scroll is ripped from his hand. His mother still resides in the palace caring for you. He will go see her now that he has returned and maybe he can see you. He situates his horse and makes his way through the bustling streets until he is at the palace gates. He grunts his name and he is walking through the gates to find his mother in her rooms. "Mi amor, you're home." She cries when she sees him, rushing to wrap her arms around him and he pulls her closer, holding her tight. He hasn't seen his mother in so many years and he's changed. So has she, she has gotten older but no less beautiful. "You're home." She grins, pulling back to cup his cheeks. "Mijo." She leans in to kiss his cheeks.

"Where is she?" He asks, "I heard about the tournament." He says and she sighs, "yes. She is not happy. This has been the talk of Rome. It will not begin for a while to allow warriors to return to Rome to fight." She reveals, "she is in her rooms."

Pero nods, kissing his mother's forehead. "I will be back, mama." He promises, knowing he needs to see you after being gone for too long. He remembers how to sneak to your rooms without being noticed and he's soon knocking on the door, heart pounding in his chest from seeing you for the first time in so long.

You sigh to yourself, almost ignoring the knock on the door. It would be Corda, having insisted that the servant wait for permission to enter your quarters if you were present. You are older and expect some privacy, a rarity here because of who you are. Setting down the wine that you had been enjoying, your sandals slap against the hard stone floors as you move to the door and open it. Making you freeze when you see a man in front of you. He’s familiar and yet so different. Darker, older and seemingly more menacing with a large and wicked looking scar bisecting his left brow. Evidence of surviving a nasty fight. The softness of youth chiseled away to leave nothing more than a fierce warrior, a man, standing before you. “P-Pero?!” You gasp, unable to believe that he is here. You know he is alive, his mother had kept you informed when she heard from him, but you are shocked by his appearance and your heart leaps with joy.

“Hola, mi emperatriz.” Pero greets you breathlessly. You’re just as beautiful but you’ve matured and you look like a leader. He offers you a small smile after a moment when you continue to stare and he knows he’s battle worn carrying scars - some visible, most invisible. “I heard about the tournament upon my arrival.” He confesses, “your father’s idea?”

At the mention of the tournament, you realize he is still standing in the doorway of your quarters for anyone to walk by and see. You know that it’s wrong, but you don’t care as you pull him into your room and slam the door behind him. He’s here. You have him back and now, with your father’s proclamation, there is a way for you to be with him. Instead of answering him, you throw yourself at him and press your lips to his desperately.

He doesn’t push you back. He’s seen war. Men die gruesomely in battle. Women and children killed. There were times when he wasn’t sure if he’d ever make it back. His hands grip your waist and he pulls you up against him, his tongue sliding into your mouth as he takes a taste of forbidden fruit.

Moaning, you press impossibly closer. Feeling the joy and passion you haven’t once felt since the day he left reigniting in your belly. You’ve not let another man touch you, remaining pure to his body alone. You know that he will have had other women but you don’t care. It had been your decision and now you are grateful that you had. Your fingers reach for the thick leather belt at his waist to untie it, not caring that he is dirty from the road, you need to touch him to make sure he is real and here again.

Pero knows he should push you away. He shouldn’t claim you again. Yet seeing you, how beautiful you are, remembering how much he’s missed you…it’s like he can’t control himself. He’s not gentle as he gathers your dress in his hands, tugging it up your body so he can caress your skin. “I missed you.” He kisses against your jaw as you push his tunic from his body.

“I prayed to Mars everyday to keep you safe.” You tell him frantically, your hands mapping his scarred body and you groan when your fingers wrap around his rapidly hardening cock. “I love you.” You declare breathlessly. “You said I should not wait, but I did. I have only been yours.” You confess. “Make me yours again, Pero.”

He groans, annoyed that you waited for him because you’ve given him hope. “I love you too. Never stopped.” He vows and guides you back towards the bed. “I’m not going to be gentle.” He confesses, his fingers sliding up your thigh until he’s sliding them through your folds.

“Don’t be.” You beg, knowing that you might be sore, but you will cherish the aches. He pushes you down onto the bed and you slide your dress up to your waist and hurry to unclip the shoulders. “I want my warrior to take the spoils of his conquest.”

Your words make his cock throb and he hisses when you expose your body. Your curves made his mouth water and he surges to dip down and take your nipple into his mouth while he settles between your thighs, gripping his cock to slide it through your folds.

“Pero…” you whimper his name, fingers digging into his longer hair and you love how you can tug on it slightly. “Tell me you didn’t marry.” You beg, gulping back a sob of pleasure when he bites down. “You didn’t find a woman while you were away?”

“I would not be here if that were true.” He assures you, “I wouldn’t betray your soul like that, hermosa.” He vows against your sternum and he starts to push inside of you. “You are still the woman I love.” He promises and you moan as he stretches you out.

Your eyes close and you feel complete for the first time in years. “Fuck.” You whimper, clenching down around him and making him hiss quietly. “That is what I have been missing.” You moan. “Move Pero, take what is yours.”

He doesn’t hesitate to start moving. No longer the younger version of himself making love to you. The desperate older man wants to fuck you, to claim you when he knows that you won’t be his to claim soon. He hisses when your walls flutter around him and he pushes deep when he thrusts back into you. His hand squeezes your breast and he nips along your neck until his lips smash against yours.

You feel the desperation and the need in his kiss, responding in kind. Your fingers drag out of his hair and you scratch down his back again as you rock your hips up to meet his frantic pace. “Pero! Oh fuck, Pero, you, harder- please, harder.”

He won’t deny you when he desperately needs this. He thrusts harder, his skin slapping against yours and his breath puffs against your skin as he pants your name. “So - so fucking perfect. Mi amor. Never stopped loving you. Fuck. I- I missed you.”

“Never stopped.” You gasped, arching up and moaning loudly. Unable to imagine anyone else touching you like Pero is. “Missed you every day. Every day.” You promise. Your body responds to his harsh thrusts and you feel your core start to clench down. Your fingers slide down to his ass and you grip it. Encouraging him as he pumps into you ever harder.

He grunts as you push him deeper and he shifts onto his knees, dragging you into his lap. His strong arms grab the back of your thighs and he lifts you up and down on his cock while he thrusts up into you. “Fuck. Fuck.” He groans, leaning in to kiss your shoulder.

You moan, wrapping your arm around his neck. Pressing your lips to his jaw as he fucks you frantically. You want this always, just him. “I love you. I love you, Pero.” You groan. “You feel so good.”

“Te amo, hermosa. I thought of - of you every day. Every fucking day I’ve been away from you.” He vows, thrusting up into you and his thighs ache but he’s desperate to feel you fall apart around him.

Every thrust pushes you closer to pleasure and you help him. Rocking down when he thrusts up, each one of you groaning and whimpering in pleasure. “I love you, I’m going to- fuck!” You cry out when he pushes deep. Throwing your head back as your cunt clamps down around him.

“Mierda.” He groans when you grip his cock inside of you and soak him. You feel so fucking good. “That’s it, hermosa. Fuck.” He pants, shifting to lay down and you shake as you shift to straddle him. “I want my Empress to ride me.” He orders, smacking your ass with his hand.

You giggle slightly, clenching down around him again from the sharp slap of your skin. Leaning forward, you press your lips to his as you start to rock your hips and moan into his mouth as you push your tongue to meet his.

He caresses your skin everywhere he can reach. Moaning your name as he watches you move on top of him. You aren’t as skilled as a whore but you haven’t done this before. Even with your hips moving a little rigid, he enjoys this far more than any whore he’s given coin to. His hands find your hips, helping you find a rhythm.

He moves you more naturally, making you moan as your tits are pressed into his face. “Pero…” your eyes roll back again and you hold tight to his shoulder as you follow his rhythm and ride his cock.

His mouth finds your nipple, sucking on it as he groans against your flesh. You’re so pliable and he loves how you take him inside of you over and over. Rocking back onto him, you let him control the rhythm and he bites down on your nipple before soothing it with his tongue.

He never wants to let you go. If he could stay in this moment, he’d stay like this forever. His cock twitches inside of you, watching as you take him over and over. His hands caress your back and he kisses up to your neck, aching to suck his mark there but he can’t, no matter how much he wants to.

“I want to feel you inside me again.” You pant breathlessly. “That feeling of your seed inside me was the best feeling I ever had.” You turn and press your lips to his, needing to be close to him in all ways.

He is selfish. If his seed takes and you marry another, his bastard will be killed. They would not allow a bastard to be the future emperor of Rome. His logic knows that it’s not a good idea but his heart and his cock desperately want to fill you up. His heart wins and he rocks his hips to thrust up into you, pushing you forward onto his chest and he wraps his arms around you. “I will fill you up. You’ll be dripping me.” He promises with a growl.

You whine his name and reach down to touch yourself, your fingers brushing against his cock as he rocks up into you. Stroking your flesh quickly as he groans your name, coming apart again with a soft cry. “Pero!”

When you clench down around him, he grabs your ass and thrusts up into you harder and faster, grunts escaping his lips as he seeks his own climax and it doesn’t take long. He hisses your name and clenches his eyes shut as he cums, painting your walls with his seed for the second time.

You moan softly, holding him tight and closing your eyes as he fills you up. The warmth spreads and makes you sigh in pleasure. “That’s so good. I love it, I love you. I want you.” You promise softly. “I- I want you for my husband.”

Pero sighs, stroking his fingers along your spine. “Your father would never allow it. Unless I win the tournament. I need to fight for you, mi amor.” He murmurs, knowing he could be killed but he has to try. He has to fight for his love.

You close your eyes, sighing softly. “Please tell me that you have become a fierce warrior?” You plead. Reaching up, you caress his face and press a kiss to the bottom of his scar. “I don’t want to lose you. I’ve lost you once before and now you are back.”

“I am a great warrior. I have survived many battles and it would be incredible to fight for a cause I truly believe in: you.” He murmurs, “I will fight for you. For us.” He vows, “and if I die…I will die knowing that I fought for us. For our future…even if I never get to witness it.” He whispers, knowing it’s a risk but how can he stand by and watch you marry someone else?

You don’t want him to fight, but if he wins, your father would have to accept Pero as your husband. “You will be the only warrior I will be cheering for.” You promise, kissing his cheeks and then his lips. “You will carry my love onto the sands and defeat all others for my hand.”

Pero nods, caressing your cheek, “for you, my Empress.”

****

He lingers in your quarters for as long as possible until his mother finds him after you are dressed. “Mijo.” She smiles, “you must go before the guards see you.” She warns and he nods, leaning in to kiss your forehead and he squeezes his mother’s hand as he passes her, knowing he cannot remain in your quarters. He must prepare to fight. “I shall prepare the tea.” His mother says and you shake your head, “no tea.” Her eyes widen slightly but she won’t argue with you.

It is a risk for you, but you don’t care. Emboldened by Pero’s return, you are ready to risk everything. “Pero is fighting in the tournament.” You hope she doesn’t get upset at you for making her son risk his life again in the deadly games. “He will win and then you will longer be a servant in this house.” You promise. “You will have your own servant to attend to you.”

His mother is not surprised to hear that her son will be fighting. She’s concerned that he might not win and she will lose her son and the woman she’s come to love as a daughter. You will not survive the loss. She offers you a smile and a nod, not wanting to voice her worry.

****

“I want to win the tournament without too many issues. You know that I am the best man to marry your daughter. Your general. I am fit for war and she will not know of the issues we face on the battlefield. You have sheltered her and she will be a weak leader. She needs a man to guide her.” Atticus, the general of three Roman army explains to your father as they sip their goblets of wine.

“She is naive but I have trained her well in all matters. It is true she needs a man to guide her in the subject of war. Perhaps you are the best candidate.” Your father hums and the general smirks, “then shall we call off the tournament and announce our betrothal?” He suggests but your father shakes his head, “no. We must show the people of Rome that the best man won her hand. You shall fight but let me make it easier for you. Let the riff raff kill each other and you shall be a late contender. You’ll have five men to kill. Maybe less. You shall be the victor.” Your father decides and the general grins, holding up his cup, “to the glory of Rome.”

****

Pero stands with his sword and his shield in hand, helmet on his head as he stands in line. There are many men here to fight for your hand and the hold beneath the colosseum is packed full of men eager to win you and the power of Rome.

The roar of the crowds fill the colosseum and you sit under the shade as warriors file out from the catacombs below to stand in the bright sunshine to bask in the adoration of the crowds. Blood will be spilt today and you wish that none would die, but the more violent the sport, the more entertained the Romans would be. Several from the senate come to greet you, but you keep your eyes on the sands, looking for Pero. He had said he would not fight with a helmet on so you can spot him. Ever since his return a month ago, he has come to your chambers every night to tangle his limbs with yours and leave you limp with pleasure and full of his seed. Your heart is twisted with worry and hope as you wait and look for your lover. Any moment now, your father will arrive to commence the games.

Pero remembers his promise to you to survive and win, and so he sets his helmet down before he steps up onto the sands and winces as the sun hits his eyes. The warriors line up, prepared to fight to the death for the hand of the future Empress. He’d heard many men talk about taking your innocence, leaving your blood on the sheets, and he had to stop himself from killing them before the battle and from revealing the secret he holds close to his heart. He was the one to take your innocence all those years ago. His eyes dart up to the stands where you are and his heart pounds in his chest. This is his chance. His only chance to win your hand and the approval of your father. With his blessing, you could marry and Pero would be by your side until he dies. Your eyes find him in the crowd and he stands straighter, watching your father raise his hand. The crowd goes silent and your father begins to speak. “Today, you fight for Rome, for her honor, and for the honor to be by her Empress’s side as a leader to all Romans. You must earn this privilege and if you fail, you will die. May the best gladiator win.” He nods and the crowd roars back to life when the battle commences moments later.

It’s an impossible task, pretending to be uninterested in the games when your eyes are riveted to one man. You don’t blink, don’t look away for fear of missing some small thing that could be life or death for the man you love. He is amazing, his speed and skill are obvious as he moves, his sword flashing in the sun as he cuts down his rivals.

It doesn’t take long for the first round to be over. Covered in blood and surrounded by bodies, Pero takes the chance to look up at you. You are watching intently and he knows he can’t fail you now. At least two thirds of the warriors are gone. “And now…we introduce a new element…lions.” Your father gleams with maniacal joy as the lions are brought into the arena. The crowd cheers and you gasp “no.” Pero growls, “fuck” under his breath. This just got more complicated but he will kill a fucking lion if he has to.

“Something wrong?” Your father turns and looks at you with a smirk, but you shake your head. It’s already a needless slaughter of Rome’s most capable warriors, but if you show favoritism towards Pero, you are almost sure the games will be directed towards taking him out. You don’t trust the general to not cheat and he has not even stepped out into the area yet. “The tall one.” You tell him, pointing towards a giant of a man with a golden crown of hair peeking out from under his helmet. “He seems like he would be a good husband. Provide me with strong babies to further our line.” You lie, knowing that you would never accept anyone but Pero into your bed.

Your father smirks, “he is not Roman, my dear. He’s from the west. He will not provide the line you wish to have.” Your father declares and raises his hand once again, “commence.” He orders and the warriors begin to battle once more but this time, the lions are released. Pero grunts as his sword clangs with another, the roar of the lion behind him followed by a scream of a man who gets chewed up. Pero’s heart is pounding but he fights, knowing that he can’t lose. You’ll be married to someone who would treat you like a servant when you are destined to be Empress. You need a husband who will support you.

Your heart sinks, knowing now that your father will cheat to have the man he wants you married to win these games. The servants behind you fan the Emperor and you against the heat and you know it must be sweltering down on the hot sands. You gasp when the lion closest to Pero takes a swipe at him, narrowly missing his flesh with those large claws. “Gods.” You mutter, clenching your jaw as another man is dragged down by the great beasts. A splash of blood staining the sands beneath the carnage.

Pero’s chest heaves and he’s covered in sweat. Blood streaked on his body but it’s not his own. The sun is burning but he fights to stay alive, swinging his sword over and over until he’s facing a lion. The lion roars and he grounds himself, swinging his sword. The lion swipes him, making him hiss from the gash on his arm but he ignores it, focusing on killing the beast.

Your entire body tenses and you lean forward. Watching the fight between lion and man. You see the animal cut into his arm and you press your lips together to keep from crying out. You know that your father is watching the games, but he will notice you. You pray to the gods that the lion doesn’t win as you watch the beast lunge towards Pero and drive him to the ground.

Pero scrambles to protect himself with his shield while the lion snaps his teeth at him. He struggles and he sees his life flash before him in that moment and he sees the future he’s losing. A future with you and he won’t let that go so he swings his sword, driving it into the chest of the lion who roars and swipes but stumbles to the ground. Pero pants as he allows himself a moment to regain his strength while the battle continues around him until it’s him and one other man. Your father holds his hand up and the crowd goes silent. Pero’s chest heaves as he looks up at the balcony, waiting for the next announcement. If it’s a fight to the death one on one, he plans to win. “We have a late contender.” Your father declares, “General Atticus throws his hat into the ring.” He announces and the crowd cheers when the gates open to reveal the General in his gleaming armor.

“Father!” You hiss in annoyance, knowing that Pero is exhausted after fighting for hours, while Atticus has watched from the stands and is fresh. He turns to you and smiles, “he will be a good warrior beside you.” He declares and you know that Atticus will cheat. He’s a snake.

Pero rolls his shoulders, knowing that he has to wait until the other man goes for Atticus. He can regain some strength. The horn sounds and as predicted, the other man rushes towards Atticus who easily takes him down. The man was exhausted as is Pero but he won’t lose. He can’t. Atticus smirks as he withdraws his sword from the dead man and wipes it on the sand. “Give it up. You can’t win.” Atticus taunts Pero who growls, chest heaving. The two men appraise each other for several moments and Pero waits for him to make the first move.

You are on the edge of your chair, a small scream clawing up in your throat when you see Atticus attack. The lunge and slash is too close and you see that Pero is exhausted. You grip the arms of your chair as your lover spins away from the general and puts several paces between them. The general shuffles slightly, feinting a move to the left but then goes right, Pero watching and moving with him so he deflects the attack easily. “Mars protect him.” You murmur quietly.

Pero spits onto the sand, his throat dry, and his muscles aching but he refuses to yield. The general smirks at him, “you will never have her. Oh, Pero Tovar, I have heard all about you. How you have been in love with her since you were children. She isn’t yours to have. She will be mine. Rome will be mine.” He grins and surges forward. His sword slicing Pero’s shoulder and your lover cries out in pain. The general attacks again, slicing Pero’s side and he’s exhausted. He falls to his knees, his sword in his hand and his eyes turn to you as Atticus raises his sword.

You lunge to your feet, horror making you shout out the secret you have been keeping from Pero the last week. “I’m carrying your child!” You scream out, “Fight, Pero! I love you!” The entire colosseum is deathly quiet, waiting for the death blow to be delivered, so all of Rome hears your shame. You don’t care. You just want Pero to live.

Pero’s eyes widen as your scream echoes in the colosseum. You’re pregnant. With his child. His jaw clenches and Atticus stares at him in shock, momentarily distracted, and Pero jumps onto his feet, swinging his sword and within moments, Atticus’s head rolls across the bloodied sands of the arena. The crowd roars to life and your father stares in shock as the general’s body is sprawled out on the ground, his head on the sands, eyes wide in shock.

Screaming in joy, you refuse to even look towards your father, knowing that you just ruined his plans for your future rule. Tears start to stream down your face, ecstatic that your lover has won and will now have your hand in marriage per the rules your father set down. The thunderous applause of crowds are deafening, their approval meaning that there is no way your father can change the rules again. “Pero! Pero!” You shout, the crowd picking up on it and starting to chant his name through the colosseum.

Pero pants, exhaustion seeping into his bones and he wastes no time in rushing through the stands, making his way to the balcony, and when he swings his leg onto the balcony, he reaches for you and pulls you close. Pressing his lips to yours, he sighs your name and smiles against your mouth. His hand finding your stomach between you. You can be together. Finally, your father smiles and applauds but you can sense his disapproval.

The people of Rome witness your fussing over him. The frantic kisses and the happy tears they swear everyone in the stands can see. Your hands grab his face to caress and coo over him, overjoyed by the fact that he won. The sands of the colosseum are littered with bodies and blood, signifying how hard Pero fought to win. “I love you.” You promise him breathlessly. “I didn’t tell you before because I wanted to surprise you after you won.” You admit.

“Hermosa.” He murmurs, “I will protect you until my last breath.” He vows, “you and our child.” The crowd is applauding, roaring with screams of joy and your father waves to the crowd until he gestures to you and Pero who takes your hand as he approaches the edge of the balcony. Your father claps as you raise Pero’s arm and your lover grins as it sinks in that he has won. “Your future empress and her warrior. They will be wed in two days time.” Your father announces and the crowd cheers once more.

“Come, my love, you need to wash and rest.” You coo and Pero nods, the adrenaline wearing off and he stumbles slightly as you guide him from the balcony to the chariot waiting to return you to the palace.

The ride back to the palace is quiet, neither one of you speaking, although children and dogs run beside the chariot. The children cheer and wave and the dogs bark as they race alongside the spinning wheels. You are elated that he won, but you need to keep him close until the wedding. Your father will be furious that you had slept with Pero, but hopefully your public confession will keep him safe. Once you are back at the palace, you order food and wine to be brought to the baths, intending on taking care of your lover yourself.

You guide Pero to the private baths of the emperor and yourself, the servants fetching the trays you requested, and Pero watches as you work on removing his armor. “You are going to be mine.” He murmurs, unable to quite believe it. You smile and continue removing the armor from his body, depositing it on the marble floor that surrounds the baths.

Once Pero is naked, you take a cloth and wet it in the water, washing his wounds carefully. “It will scar.” You tsk slightly, knowing that he won’t mind the additional marks on his battle riddled body. “Your victory will be the talk of the Empire for years to come.” You tell him, dropping the cloth and reaching for your own dress to disrobe. “Now you will reap your spoils.” You smirk. “An Empress, bathing you of your sweat and blood before she rides you. Sucks your cock like a common whore. Rome will be on her knees for you.”

Your words make his cock throb, already hard from the adrenaline, and his eyes take in your body. The knowledge that you are having his baby makes him inhale sharply and he groans your name, “my Empress. You shall want for nothing. I am yours. Rome is yours.” He vows as you take his hand to help him step into the warm waters.

The warm water is soothing and you know that your lover is thirsty, so as soon as he sits down you bring him a cup of wine. “My Spaniard.” You hum, holding it up to his lips. “My love, my future warrior and the father of my children to come.” You coo as he takes a sip.

He swallows down half the goblet and after you set it down, he reaches for you so he can cup your cheek. He presses his lips to yours and slides his tongue into your mouth, wanting to show you how much he loves you. He killed half of Rome for you.

You go willingly into his arms, wrapping yours around his neck and straddling his thighs in the water. Kissing him back with just as much passion as you can show him. You know that he’s both exhausted and invigorated and you reach for the cloth and soap. “Let me tend to you.” You murmur, kissing along his jaw as you pick up the goblet and press it into his hands to drink while you tend to him. “Relax and enjoy.”

Pero slides his hands along your back, enjoying the way you care for him. It’s tender and just what he needs after his body has been through hell and back. “Amor.” He murmurs, sighing when you kiss his cheek. The goblet of wine in his hand lowers slightly as his grip loosens. You start to wash him, his hair full of blood, and he watches you bite your lip in concentration.

You take your time, soothing his muscles with the heat and the wine. Knowing that the water feels good and being clean will feel even better. You might have been raised to be the Empress of Rome, but you want to take care of him. He has done so much for you. “My love. My brave and wonderful love.” You praise softly. “I was so scared for you. Even knowing you would win.”

Pero snorts, “you were that sure?” He asks, not believing you. “I know that you weren’t sure. Especially when those fucking lions came out. Your father…he’s a cruel man. Lions.” He shakes his head as you caress his chest with the cloth. “I thought I was going to fail when the lion was on top of me.” He admits softly, “but then you said you were with child and I couldn’t - I had to fight. Even if I was cut down. I had to try.”

“I’m glad you did.” You admit softly, leaning over and kissing his shoulder right above the wound he had taken from Atticus. “I would never wanted to be married to that man. He is just as cruel as my father, maybe more so. I have heard the rumors, and I’ve never liked him.” You soap up your fingers to wash his hair, knowing he will feel better when he is clean. “I missed my bleeding last week.” You explain quietly.

Pero's cock twitches at the fact that he has gotten you pregnant but he remembers the way you screamed it. "You screamed it for all of Rome to hear, mi amor. The people...they will look at you as...impure and I do not wish to have that. We must marry as soon as possible." He murmurs, closing his eyes.

“I don’t care.” You promise him. “I would rather be known as impure and have all of Rome know I love you, than to be viewed as pure and have to marry Atticus.” You sigh softly. “I want to believe Rome would be happy for me. They cheered for you.”

Pero opens his eyes, "they cheered for you. They adore you. Their future Empress." He murmurs, "carrying their future Emperor. They would be fools to cast you aside when you simply followed your heart." He groans when you rub your fingers against his scalp.

You smile as you watch him relax, his eyes closed and enjoying the sensation of your hands in his hair. “They cheered for us, for we are the future of Rome.”

Pero smiles, knowing that it’s always been you. He’s never loved another. His hands sliding down to squeeze your ass as he starts to harden beneath you. “I can’t believe I get to have you. I never - siempre - I always imagined I’d have to watch you marry another.” He confesses, “but now…you’re mine.”

“I am yours.” You promise, picking up a clay pitcher to pour clean water over Pero’s hair. “And as soon as I finish, you are going to sit while I ride your cock and bring you pleasure.” You hum.

“Mmmm mi amor, I would love to let you use my body for your pleasure.” He murmurs, tilting his head back to let you wash the soap from his hair, the blood washing away. His cock is hard beneath you, “mi emperatriz, full of our baby.” He groans, his hands squeezing your ass.

“Full of your baby.” You whisper, pressing your lips to his. “I refused to drink your mother’s tea after you returned.” You admit, wanting him to know that you had no reservations about carrying his child. “If there had been no tournament, I would have asked you to flee Rome with me.”

Pero sighs, reaching up to cup your cheek, “I couldn’t ask that of you. You have been raised to lead. I could never ask you to abandon your empire.” He sighs, “but I would’ve followed you anywhere.”

“That is in the past.” You reach between you to wrap your fingers around his cock and line up so you can sink down on him. “You will be my right hand, the sword and shield of Rome.” You predict as you slowly start to take him into your body. “Leader of my armies and master of my heart. My gladiator.”

Pero’s breath hitches as you sink down onto him. His hands find your waist and his lips press against yours once more. His tongue sliding into your mouth, and he savors his victory. He was nearly killed but he survived, he won. He can enjoy his reward…you.

****

“The general approaches.” Your servant announces it as if you do not see the crowds parting for the large retinue of soldiers, the crests of the regiment held high and the confetti littering the streets for the celebration of your husband’s victorious return to the capital. Your hand idly rubs the large, swollen bump under your breasts where his child safely lies. Kicking at the noise and feeling your happiness at Pero’s return. In the last eight months, your life has changed. You married Pero, ignoring your father’s unhappiness at the union since it was the best thing for Rome. Your father had passed away in his sleep days later, making you the Empress of Rome and your baby its future heir. Pero had been made the top general of your armies and had been dispatched to bring peace to your lands. Successful, he is now returned to you and hopefully, the expensive wars will be no more for a long time. You smile at the crowds, but your eyes are fixed on the noble figure of your husband as his horse canters up the streets, his dark eyes meeting yours.

“Gods, she has gotten big.” He murmurs to himself, riding up the steps of the palace where you are standing and he swings off of his horse as the crowds close in below you. A servant takes the reins as Pero strides over to you, his hands cupping your cheeks to kiss you deeply in front of the people of Rome. The crowd cheers and Pero caresses your bump. “I’ve missed you, emperatriz.” He murmurs, nudging your nose with his. “I missed you too, my gladiator.” You whisper and he smiles, waving at the crowds as he steps back to take your hand. “I need you now.” He demands, escorting you into the palace and you try to keep up as he guides you to your quarters.

Pero’s long strides eat up the marble flooring between the front of the palace and the quarters you had taken for yourself after your father passed. The furnishing had been replaced and the room to the side that had been used for his mistresses had been turned into a nursery for your future child. His eagerness to touch you has you giggling as you are practically dragged along the corridor. Despite your advanced pregnancy, it’s obvious that your husband desires you. “I have missed you between my thighs, husband.” You tease.

“I missed you more than you can imagine, amor.” Pero pushes the doors open, slamming them behind you when you’re inside and he wastes no time dropping to his knees on the marble floor and pushes your dress up your body. His hands caress your bump and he surges forward to bury his face in your curls, his tongue sliding through your folds.

“Pero!” You cry out in pleasure as your sensitive body reacts to his skilled tongue. You had learned so much about each other’s bodies when he had returned and you were sneaking him into your bed every night, but after your marriage, your couplings became even more blissful. Pero is an attentive and giving lover, you don’t doubt that he had been faithful to you while he was away for so many months despite knowing that others take their ease with the whores that follow the army. “Fuck, your tongue is so good. I have missed you beside me at night.”

He groans, missing your tangy taste, and he hisses as he flicks his tongue over your clit. Your bump prevents him from seeing you but he groans as you tangle your fingers in his hair. He’s dirty from the road but he doesn’t care as his hands slide along your legs, caressing your skin while he works you over with his tongue.

Pero eats your cunt eagerly, with a hunger that sometimes takes your breath away as he pushes your body towards pleasure. “Pero.” You whine, holding steady to his shoulders when he lifts one of your legs to his thigh to delve into you deeper. “Make me cry out and then I want you deep inside me, want to feel you fill me up again.”

He wants to push you over the edge. Sucking on your clit, he can feel how close you are and you tug on his hair. His cock is aching for you and he wants you to cum for him. He flicks his tongue over your clit and pushes it deep inside of you, his nose pressing against your clit.

Your stomach heaves and your fingers dig into his hair and tug when you come apart. “Pero!” You scream his name, your eyes rolling back as you soak his tongue in your pleasure. It makes your legs tremble and threaten to buckle but you know his strong arms will keep you upright.

He grips your ass, keeping you upright, and he works you through it, loving the way you moan as you come back down to earth. He caresses your skin and lowers your leg back down. “Come on, amor. I want to be inside of you.” He stands up and takes your hand to guide you over to the bed. He unclips his breast plate and sets it down, his leather tunic swaying as he works on untying it to expose his body to your eager eyes.

“My love, my gladiator.” You moan, his strong body always making you feel desperate for him. He is still strong, even if he is not as lean as he was when he had left you before when you were nearly still children. His cock is hard and jutting out proudly, making you moan. “After you have bathed, I want to be on my knees for you again. Have you sit on the side of the baths while I take you down my throat.”

Pero knows he won’t win if he argues with you that you shouldn’t do that in your condition so he doesn’t protest. “Hands and knees, mi amor.” He knows that’s the most comfortable position for you right now. He kneels on the bed as you shift onto your hands and knees, the baby bump beneath you as your toes dig into the bedding. Pero pumps his cock as he shuffles closer and he positions himself at your entrance before he starts to slowly push inside of you.

Your eyes close, cunt squeezing him tight as you moan his name. You’ve never had another lover but you know that no one else would be as good as your husband. He twitches inside you, making you whimper. “I want it hard, Pero.” You beg. “It won’t hurt me and I crave the ache.”

His hands caress your back down to your ass, pushing your dress higher to expose more of you and he groans when your walls flutter around him. “I love you. Mi emperatriz.” He vows, “I am yours. I serve only you.” He promises and he rocks into you a little harder like you want.

You moan quietly, loving how he adores you. Anyone else would have been hungry for what power you could provide to him, but Pero doesn’t care about that. You are his priority. “I love you.” You gasp out. “You are my Emperor. I give everything to you.”

Pero groans, leaning over you to press his lips to your neck. “I love you. You are everything.” He never wanted to be Emperor. He never wanted the power. He only wanted to be with you, to have you. Even if it meant running from Rome. You’re his life. “My Empress.” He murmurs, rocking into you a little faster, his hand sliding down your bump until he’s pressing his digits against your clit.

You moan his name again, frantic to cum around his cock after so long without him. Pleasure rockets through you and you push back against his thrusts eagerly. “Pero- Pero, I’m going to cum!” You cry out, seconds before stars burst behind your eyes and you clamp down around his length.

He grits his teeth when your walls grip him. He fucking loves it. He’s missed you so much. This is why he could never fuck a whore. No one has ever made him feel like this. He pants against your back as he rocks into you, “fuck. I- I’m gonna fill you up.” He grunts, pushing into you a half dozen more times until he cums, painting your walls with his hot seed. “Te amo.” He pants, breathing you in.

“I love you too.” You slowly roll to your side, Pero still buried inside you so he can stroke your belly and both of you can relax. “You are home now. No more wars until our second child is at least five.” You hum, knowing the people of Rome are tired of costly wars.

“Your empire is secure. Your people love you. We shall be legendary. Our family, our children will be remembered forever.” He murmurs, caressing your belly and he kisses your forehead. “You are my Empress. I would die for you. I would kill for you.” He vows and you stroke his cheek. He already killed for you. Your gladiator. You and Pero were always meant to be and the history books will write of your epic love story. The Empress and her Gladiator.

#pedro pascal #pero tovar #pero tovar x reader #pero tovar x you #pero tovar x f!reader #pero tovar smut #Pero Tovar imagine #pero tovar fanfiction #gladiator!pero tovar #gladiator au

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cyberslvts · 1 year

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SWEET TALKER || w.maximoff

Summary: In the bustling city of New York, two ambitious entrepreneurs, Wanda Maximoff and Y/n L/N, have been fierce competitors in the industry of mechanical engineering. You and Wanda have been at each others throats fighting for the top spot. However, Your opinions on the Scarlet woman change after she approaches you one night with a business proposal.

Warnings: 18+ rivals to lovers, office romance, angst, smut, teasing, oral (r recieving), fingering (r recieving), marking/biting, little twist at the end (i love drama). Wrote this on my flight to Hawaii (teehee)

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Fem!Reader

WC: 6.1k

Part 2 | Part 3

The names Y/n L/n and Wanda Maximoff had become synonymous with power and dominance in the bustling streets of New York City.

Y/n L/n was the heir to the L/n family empire, a legacy that had its origins in the late 1950s. Back then, L/n technology had been at the forefront of demand, supplying the country with groundbreaking innovations. Their influence was so profound that buildings, schools, and billboards bore their name in honor. They became the embodiment of high society and untouchable success in America.

However, after the passing of Y/ns father, the company’s prestige and reputation went downhill. Soon L/n. Inc was buried by other up-incoming engineers with bigger ideas, faster solutions, and more efficient products. What was once America's most prestigious company was now a forgotten memory.

Until your twenty third birthday arrived, and your father's will stipulated that upon his passing, the empire would be handed over to the eldest L/n child.Taking charge of the company, you unleashed your unrelenting drive. For years, you had observed your father's tireless nights of work, and the dedication he poured into the company. His legacy became your purpose.

Growing up, your life revolved around your father's teachings and his pursuit of excellence. From a young age, he immersed you in the world of science and technology, and you soaked up knowledge like a sponge. As he explained the intricate molecular structure of vibranium, you sat in awe in your high chair, absorbing every word.

From that moment on, you were expected to be nothing short of a carbon copy of your brilliant father. Academics became your priority, and you quickly excelled in the math and science fields. However, this dedication came at a cost – you sacrificed social outings and events during high school, choosing instead to spend your time perfecting your craft and living up to your father's high standards. Long hours were spent hunched over a desk, diving deep into research and innovation. Now, with the responsibility of the company resting on your shoulders, you were determined not to let all your father's hard work go to waste. The thought of allowing untalented and entitled individuals to take over what was built with so much passion and dedication ignited a fierce determination within you.

After inheriting the company 10 years ago you immediately rose through the ranks and L/n. Inc was back on the tabloids as New York's top engineering company. Driven by a relentless ambition, you earned your place as a formidable figure in the engineering landscape. Your brilliant ideas along with your father's teachings allowed you to refine your technology and weapons to perfection. The demand for your products was through the roof and you made millions. High-paying investors from all around the world were coming to New York to see and buy your designs.

Your cold, focused, and reserved nature, along with your rapidly growing empire intimidated potential competitors, which gained you the respect and prestige you needed to uphold the company’s reputation.

You were unstoppable.

That was until Maximoff Industries.

Maximoff Industries was Sokovias most prominent and respected engineering company. Even though they were still relatively new to the field that didn’t stop them from breaking countless records and rising through the ranks Once they decided to relocate to New York. As expected they were quick to put a dent in your sales numbers.

At the heart of it all was Wanda Maximoff – a powerhouse of a woman, displaying a captivating aura that draws people in. While not as cold and detached as you, she maintains a level of professionalism that commands respect and admiration. Some might even describe her as friendly, with a warmth that contrasts the cool exterior of her competitor. But beneath her approachable demeanor lies an unwavering determination and a fierce desire to become the best engineering company the world has ever seen.

Thus, a rivalry was formed. The competition between both of your Companys was electric. Every Month either you or Wanda was ahead. You had your team work themselves until the brink of death coming up with new ideas that would outsell Maximoff Industries. The same trope echoed within Wanda's company, as her team matched your dedication step for step. Late nights and early mornings became the new reality as she dissected every aspect of your technology, searching for any imperfections. Anything she could use to break you down.

The rivalry between your companies intensified with each passing month, setting the business world abuzz with anticipation and excitement. Photos, articles, and Newspapers were being published every month detailing any upcoming projects or interactions you two had with each other. Whenever asked about anything Wanda related your responses were always the same.

“No comment”

“Would rather not say”

“I'm not allowed to say anything”

You always tried to stay out of the media as much as possible, you knew how everything was twisted or taken out of context in order to satisfy their audience. Wanda on the other hand couldn’t seem to get enough of the overwhelming attention. Always happy to give detailed responses to random interviewers on the street and pose for photographers, even though it was clear they were following her. She was basically their only outlet to you since she apparently had no filter when it came to the paparazzi.

“I heard she's working on a new type of AI device that's going to be used in search and rescue missions”

“Of course, we don’t hate each other! Just Friendly competition!”

“She's single, I think. But with her looks, who knows?”

Her latest interview sparked a plethora of theories among the people of New York, The press finding endless entertainment in your perceived connection. Were they secretly working together? Dating? Sleeping together?

Amidst all the success and recognition, there was one area that remained untouched – matters of the heart. Your relentless dedication to the company and your guarded demeanor left little room for personal connections. Love had always seemed like a distraction, and you found comfort in pouring your energy into your work, your empire, and your dreams.

You scoffed and rolled your eyes, throwing the open-faced magazine on your desk. This is exactly why you stayed out of the press. Once they found out one little snippet of information about you they would twist it around just to fuel their crazy theories. Now you would have to prepare yourself to be bombarded with flashing camera lights and microphones being shoved in your face all while you were just trying to get to your car.

Yet, compared to past allegations, a dating rumor was almost a relief. In October, you'd been accused of murdering your father to claim the business. Another scandal involved pregnancy after declining a drink at a New Year's Eve party. A dating rumor would likely fade within a week.A dating rumor was a piece of cake. You’d been accused of sleeping with a number of people in the past. It would blow over within a week.

Your eyes trained back on the magazine cover “A secret scandalous affair” followed by photos of you and Wanda. Your thumb found its way to your teeth as you leaned back in your big office chair with the magazine in your hand. Your interest starting to peak. At least this rumor was somewhat entertaining for you. Typically the people you were accused of sleeping with were past friends of your father, who were old, fat, or balding.

Amongst your hatred for Wanda, you couldn’t help but be captivated by her. Her beauty was undeniable. Your eyes gazed upon the photo in the magazine, it was a photoshoot Wanda had done for a sponsorship a few months ago. She wore a dark red suit that fit perfectly around her body, her hair cascaded past her shoulders as she gazed into the camera with a gentle smile. She was posing in the streets of Manhattan, surrounded by giant buildings that framed her gorgeous figure. pedestrians blurred in the background which only highlighted her powerful presence. Her bright green eyes stared right back at you as you continued to observe the photograph. Her arms, legs, nose, lips-

“What are you reading?”

You were startled out of your daze, quickly shutting the magazine and sitting up straight in your seat to see Natasha raising an eyebrow and giving you a confused look.

“Nothing. just these ridiculous magazines I keep getting sent” you replied, moving a stack of papers over the cover.

Natasha suspiciously observed your rather shaken-up demeanor as she was expecting your serious deadpan face when she walked in not you ogling at a photo of Wanda Maximoff “Ok. Well… just wanted to tell you the monthly report came back in and once again we are second to Maximoff, by 5 sales this time”

“What. Are you sure? The last time I checked…” Your focus trailed off as you began clicking through different files on your computer.

“I'm sure. It's that new drone she just released. Stark Industries just bought ten of them” Natasha's hands were now in her pockets, observing your worried yet focused expression which was glued to the screen of your computer. Natasha was the Vice president of L/N Inc. And you owed most of your success to the redhead. She was the backbone of the company and shared the same passions and desires as you.

Those weeks were it seemed like you were working yourself into a grave in order to meet upcoming deadlines, She was right by your side, writing notes, crunching numbers, filling out spreadsheets and even correcting the mistakes you rarely made. She kept all of your employees at the top of their game when you weren't there to bark orders at everyone, and you were almost positive you and the rest of the company would be a chaotic mess if it weren't for her.

“We need to move up the timeline for the AI robot release if we want to get ahead next month” Natasha was now in front of your desk handing you a blue folder “This is a new updated timeline for the project. I know it's faster than we planned but I think if we can get this AI out before September we have a chance at getting ahead of Maximoff for the October reports”

You sighed as you looked over the papers “Thank you, Nat. I really wouldn’t be able to do any of this without you”

She gave you a sympathetic nod before turning to exit your office. You felt the stress build in your stomach as you read over the new timeline. It was almost a month ahead of schedule, and you were still a third of the way from finishing the final project.

You were starting to get really sick of Wanda Maximoff.

————————-

The sounds of keyboard clacking and rustling papers were the only things heard in your large office tower, The building was eerily dark, the only light coming from the conference room on the 27th floor. Your back ached and your eyes felt heavy from hours of being hunched over your desk.

You finally decided to take a break, stretching your arms above your head and looking out the big glass windows that overlooked the city, only to be met with the darkness of night and speckles of light illuminating from other buildings. You blinked in surprise checking your watch. 1:46 am. Have you really been here that long?

You sighed and looked at the sprawled-out papers that almost covered the entire conference table, you decided to migrate down to the conference room since your tiny desk wasn’t big enough for this chaotic mess. The situation was growing more and more impossible with each passing minute. Despite brainstorming a multitude of strategies, the looming project deadline for September remained a stark reminder of your impending failure.

Frustration gnawed at you, a tempestuous emotion ignited by the mere thought of Wanda outperforming you in the upcoming monthly report.

Defeat was not an option. Sleep was a distant memory, and your social life had become a casualty of your unwavering commitment to your work. With a determined huff, you settled back into your seat, your brows furrowing as your eyes scanned the multitude of charts, graphs, and spreadsheets demanding your attention. The focus of your thoughts was abruptly interupted by a gentle knock, followed by the slow creaking of your office door.

“Natasha. I already told you I would be staying late” you spoke without looking up from the documents in your hand.

A melodious chuckle filled the air, accompanied by a voice you weren't expecting. “You know, you've been holed up in this tower for so long, I'm starting to think you're avoiding me.

Your gaze immediately shot up once you recognized the sultry voice you had become all to familiar with. There she stood, Wanda Maximoff in all her glory. She wore a loose dark red blouse, tucked into her long black slacks. She must have come straight from her office.

“How did you get in here?” you abandoned the papers, your focus now being shifted to the tall redhead standing in the middle of your conference room.

“Micheal let me in, told him I had important business to discuss with Miss L/N” she replied, removing a hand from her pocket to hold up a day pass badge she must have received from the janitor.

“Well, it looks like I will have to talk to Micheal about letting strangers into the building in the middle of the night” You were beginning to get more frustrated, you had enough to deal with as it is.

“Strangers? Please. me and you both know were obsessed with each other” she said with a cocky tone, only fueling the burning fire in your stomach. She was right of course. The rivalry between you and Wanda was more than just professional competition; it was an obsession that fueled both of your careers. you couldn't count the endless nights you spent researching the Scarlett woman, Watching every interview you could find of her, reading every article. Trying to find any source of information you could use to take her down.

Wanda, too, was caught up in the same game. But unlike her, you were a master at guarding your private life, granting only a glimpse into your world through one or two interviews or photographs a month – sometimes three, if the mood struck you. You were excellent at avoiding the paparazzi, a talent wanda was not fond of. She craved to know the person that was always at the front of her mind, the person that had occupied almost all of her thoughts for the past 5 years. The secrecy of Y/n L/N ignited a flame of curiosity and desire inside her. Even though your office buildings were only 2 blocks from each other, she felt like you were on an entirely different planet.

Your rivalry had become a dance of fascination, a battle not only for success in the business world but also for the chance to understand the person behind the titles and achievements. The world may see you as rivals, but deep down, you both knew that there was something more.

“Don't flatter yourself” you spoke while rolling your eyes your patience was getting thinner and the smirk on Wanda's face was not helping. “What do you want wanda? why are you here”

“I wanted to see how you were,” she said, the sincerity evident in her words, this was true. The demands of your rapidly growing empire caused you to withdraw from the outside world. You had been locked away in your office day and night, immersed in your work. You were going out less and less, missing out on the countless business events where Wanda had the privilege of catching a glimpse of you.

Although she grew accustomed to only seeing your presence once and a while at board meetings, exclusive events, or walking through the streets of New York, she was beginning to get frustrated. And a little worried about your growing absence.

You scoffed “Im fine, thank you” turning your attention back to your work, Picking up your abandoned papers and tapping them against the desk to shape them into a neat pile “Now as you can see I am very busy, so if there is nothing else I can help you wi-”

“I have a business proposal for you” she confidently spoke, meeting your cold stare, watching your face briefly contort into confusion before returning back to your usual cold stare.

You narrowed your eyes at her, inspecting her face for any traces of sarcasm. To your surprise you found none. “What are you talking about?”

She watched as you raised a hand to move your reading glasses to the top of your head. Her eyes glossed over at the sight of your hair pushed back, exposing more of your beautiful face.

“Im sure you've heard of stark industries” Wanda spoke, you shifted, of course, you had heard of stark industries.No one had heard of Tony Stark until last year. Within his first year, he had already broken twice as many records as you did when you were first starting out and had already risen to the number four spot in the country. Uncomfortably close to your rank. Your thoughts were interrupted by the sound of Wanda's heels clacking on the floor as she made her war closer to you. Now Standing just a few feet from you “He offered me a partnership deal.”

Your face fell and your body froze. This was not good. If Tony and wanda were to partner up, that would be it for you. Panic started to bubble in the pit of your stomach. this news put a crack in the facade you were desperately trying to uphold. Wanda seemed to be enjoying herself watching your serious and cold demeanor crumble in a matter of seconds. “But I turned it down”

“What?” You blinked, making sure you heard her correctly “Have you lost your mind? What could have possibly possessed you to make such a stupid decision.” of course you were immensely relieved that she had declined the offer, however, you couldn't stop the frustration at wanda for turning down such a rare opportunity, An opportunity you would have killed to have. “If you came here just to rub this in my face-”

“I think you and I should partner up”

You were once again at a loss for words. Wanda stepped forward to take a seat closest to you. On one of the many large black swivel chairs in the conference room. “I want you. y/n.” You felt yourself heat up at her choice of words. “Tony's proposal got me thinking. You and I have been the owners of the 2 most successful engineering companies for almost a decade now. I've seen what you're capable of, Y/n. Your innovative ideas, and your dedication to your team, it's admirable. And I can't help but wonder what we could achieve together." Wanda continued, her voice gentle yet confident.

Your heart pounded in your chest as her words sunk in. Joining forces? You never thought you'd hear those words coming from Wanda's lips. The tension between your companies had always been palpable, and yet here she was, proposing a partnership

The conference room seemed to fade away as you considered her proposal. Working together with Wanda would undoubtedly be challenging, but the potential for greatness was undeniable. The combined expertise, resources, and talent of your two companies could create an engineering powerhouse, one that could outshine any new competition that arose.

As you took a moment to gather your thoughts, Wanda leaned in closer, her hand moving to rest on your knee "Think about it, y/n. I believe we could not only dominate the market but also push the boundaries of what's possible in engineering."

You narrowed your eyes at the woman sitting in front of you “Wanda, where is all of this coming from? you and I have been at each other throats for the past five years and now all the sudden you want to work together?”

Wanda's demeanor shifted, her eyes pierced straight into yours as she leaned forward to take one of your hands in her own. Her touch sent a jolt of electricity through you, and you couldn't ignore the rush of emotions welling up inside.

“Y/N. you are truly brilliant. Your designs are impeccable and You have an undeniable talent that I have been trying to replicate for years.” her hold on your hand tightened. You fell speechless at this confession. A sudden warmth spread throughout your chest. You searched Wanda's eyes for any trace of dishonesty but were only met with a look of raw truth. “Aren't you tired of fighting? wouldn't it feel good to build something great together”

You fell silent as your brain tried to formulate a response. You really weren't expecting this “There's no way it would work, we hate each other”

Wandas eyes softened “Oh, baby, I could never hate you” she spoke, and you felt something twist inside you at her sudden use of a pet name. “sure your constant desire to be better than me gets on my nerves from time to time. But hate? Never.” the sincerity in her words brought a sense of relief and curiosity to you.

The proximity between the two of you was getting thinner. Wanda was now so close your knees were touching and the smell of her expensive perfume flooded your senses.

“Do you want to know what I think” Wanda questioned with a slight smirk on her lips. You hummed in response, the lids of your eyes relaxing as your mind focused on observing the features of her face. “I don't think you hate me as much as you say you do”

“And what makes you say that” You leaned in closer

Wanda's eyes went up and down your body taking in the lovely sight of your slightly exposed cleavage, having undone the first few buttons before she arrived. “I think you want me, and that frustrates you” There was a beat of silence before you responded.

“That's ridiculous” You slightly pulled away, turning your head to avoid her burning gaze. Wanda only moved in closer, putting a hand on your thigh “Oh no I don't think it is. I think deep down, you crave for me as much as I crave you.” you clenched your jaw in embarrassment, your face felt like it was on fire.

Suddenly, She stood up, her hands moving to place themselves on the arms of your chair, hovering over you, enveloping you in her presence. “Truth is, you make me so angry y/n” You turned to look up at Wanda.

“I've thought about you almost every day for the past 5 years. I've thought about every possible way I could breakdown those walls you set up, find any crack just so I could see who you really are.” you felt the ends of her long hair brush against the apples of your cheeks, leaning down further to rest her knee right in between you thighs, pushing your back further into the chair.

“I don't like how I can’t get to you, I hate how you shut me out.” Wanda brought a hand to your chin, angling your face upwards to stare right back into her emerald eyes. “I hate that I can't have you.”

your eyes softened, reaching out to place a hand on the soft skin of her cheek. despite all the chaos that was you and Wanda, you felt a sense of sorrow illuminating from her. You couldn't help the tug you felt in your heart.

Her knee between your thighs sent a shiver down your spine, and you could feel the heat between you intensifying. The moment was electric, and the air seemed charged with unspoken desires. As she held your chin, her thumb gently caressing your cheek, you could see the raw emotion in her eyes, and it mirrored your own.

“Trust me, Wanda, I've always been yours,” you think in some twisted way it was true. You had practically built your empire on the dedication of her. You knew every detail about her, from the way her nose scrunched when she laughed, to the shimmer she got in her eyes just before she was about to tell a joke. You had invasively studied her for 5 long years. You went to bed dreaming of fiery red hair and woke up thinking about sea-green eyes. no other person had your attention like Wanda did.

Wanda's eyes darkened, her gaze moving down towards your lips. You felt all of the tension from the past 5 years building up in the room. What was about to happen was inevitable. You and Wanda both knew it.

Finally, Wanda leaned down to press her lips against yours, she started off slow, basking in the softness of your lips. As the kiss deepened, a sense of urgency overcame you both, and you could feel the walls that once separated you crumble.

Without a second thought, Wanda effortlessly lifted you off your chair and onto the desk. The sensation of being hoisted up caused you to gasp, to which Wanda took the opportunity to slide her tongue into your mouth. Wanda's arms held you securely as you instinctively wrapped your legs around her waist. You moaned when you felt the hard metal of her belt press against your clothed pussy.

You suddenly pulled back, Wanda furrowed her eyebrows and tried to chase after your lips, “Wanda. You know if we do this…things will change” you breathlessly spoke, your tone laced with caution but also lust.

“Yeah. Yeah. I know” Wanda quickly responded, attempting to reconnect your lips.

You put a hand on her chest, stopping her from devouring you “Things could get messy… and complicated”

All of a sudden, Wanda pushed you so your back laid flat against the mess of papers, your legs dangling off the edge of the desk. Using one hand she grabbed both of your wrists, pinning them above your head. You gasped, your heart pounding in your chest as she held you firmly against the desk “Y/n. I know. Trust me, I have thought about this a lot.”

You didn't have a chance to respond before Wanda smashed her lips back into yours, she used her other hand to run up the side of your thigh, pushing your skirt up to your hips. She moved her lips down to the edge of your jaw and then your neck. “Your so perfect” she mumbled against the soft skin of your neck.

Her fingers worked to undo the buttons of your blouse, practically ripping it from your body and tossing it to the side. Her mouth returned to your body, her teeth nipping at your collarbones as she moves her hand underneath you to unhook your bra.

You couldn't help but moan out when her mouth enclosed around one of your hardened nipples. With her hand still binding your wrists above your head you could only arch up your chest further into her mouth, letting out a pleasure-filled groan when she used her other hand to pinch a roll your other nipple between her fingers.

“You don't know how long I have been waiting to see you like this.” She groaned into your chest, Sending vibrations into your skin.

She finally let go of your wrists bringing her hand down to cup your pussy, now able to freely use your hands you tangled them in the mess of red hair that was splayed all over your chest.

Using her fingers she swiftly moved your panties to the side.

Wanda almost lost it when she pressed her hand against your pussy, feeling your wetness coat her fingertips. Her fingers ran up and down your slit, before she slipped them inside you, curling them right against your sweet spot.

“Fuck, Wanda” you harshly bit your lip, throwing your head back onto the desk. Wanda's fingers continued to pump in and out of you, setting a perfect rhythmic pace. You struggled to stifle the moans that threatened to escape, desperately attempting to hold onto any sense of dignity you had left amidst the overwhelming pleasure. However, It became clear that Wanda was determined to unravel you completely at this very moment.

“No, don't, I need to hear you.” Wanda breathlessly begged, momentarily pausing her fingers, causing you to let out a whine and buck your hips up to move her fingers deeper inside you. Surrendering, You moved your hand from your mouth, and as a reward she resumed her fingers, this time using her thumb to circle your clit. You were beginning to lose yourself in her, your senses becoming overwhelmed with Wanda. You wanted this feeling to last forever, to savor the feeling of her inside you.

Your moans were begining to get louder, Your jaw went slack against the side of her face as she continued to pump her fingers in and out of you at a ridiculous pace.

Wanda watched in pure adoration, your gorgeous face contorting in pleasure, your hips jumping up in fits to meet her hand, A rush of pride swelled up inside of her, knowing she could get this reaction out of you. y/n l/n. The daunting woman feared by half of the engineering industry. The same woman whom others could only dream of catching a mere glimpse of was now falling apart underneath her. Wanda couldn't help but want to be the only person who saw you in this intimate way. The thought of being the one who could unravel the layers of the formidable y/n l/n ignited a fiery wave of possessiveness within her.

“You're doing so good, baby” Wanda praised, returning her lips to your neck where she sunk her teeth into the softness of your skin and began to suck. Your eyes suddenly shot open and tugged on her hair causing Wanda to let out a groan, vibrating into your skin.

“Wanda don't, people will see” You were panting at this point, you could feel your orgasm building, the coil in your stomach threatening to snap at any given moment.

“I want them to see, I want everybody to know that you are mine.” her tone was assertive and dominating, her mouth never left the skin of your neck where she left behind deep red marks that you were sure would ache in the morning.

Her sudden possessiveness made you throb. A thrilling wave of desire surged through your body. Everything about Wanda was undeniably intoxicating – her confidence, her intelligence, the way she held herself with such magnetic allure. The way she looked at you with those intense, emerald eyes, the way her hands traced tenderly over your skin and the way she claimed you as hers ignited a primal response within you.

You surrendered to her, throwing your head back to give her complete access to you. her fingers just felt so good and her soft lips attacking your neck sent electric jolts throughout your body.

“God, fuck, wanda im gonna cum”

“Yeah? gonna be a good girl and make a mess all over my fingers?” Wandas fingers moved faster in you, her thumb moved to put more pressure on your clit, encouraging you to reach your climax. You buried your face in the crook of Wandas neck, biting into her shoulder as you fell into your orgasm, shaking and writhing against Wanda's tight hold.

“That's it, baby, keep going” wanda was moaning into your ear, feeling your wet walls tense and spasm around her fingers.

Wanda slowed down the pace of her fingers, letting you ride out the aftershocks of your orgasm before gently pulling them out of you.

She placed soothing kisses over the bruises she had created on your neck, she kissed her way up your body until she met your lips. You sighed into the gentle feel of her lips against yours, basking in the feeling of your post-orgasmic glow.

“Are you alright?”

“Yes, more than alright” you giggled, wanda smiled against your lips, holding your body flush against her. She pulled back to take in the sight of you. Your lips were swollen and red, a beautiful blush adorned your cheeks, and your chest was rising and falling with every heavy breath you took in. Your hair, which was now nothing more than a disheveled mess, cascaded past your shoulders, framing your face in a captivating way.

“Absolutely gorgeous” she breathed out. Her admiration evident in her voice

But before you could fully revel in the moment, your intimate bubble was abruptly burst by a loud knock on the door of the conference room. Both you and Wanda shot up, eyes wide with panic rising in you.

“Miss L/N, are you still in there? I need to vacuum before I head out for the night.” You immediately recognized the voice as the company's janitor Micheal—the one who had triggered the events of the night by letting Wanda into the building.

“Yes, Michael! I'll be out in a second!" Your voice came out slightly higher than normal as you swiftly pushed Wanda away, hastily pulling your skirt back down to your knees and frantically searching for your discarded top. Your heart raced with a mix of excitement and anxiety, trying to regain your composure as the interruption jolted you back to reality.

Wanda, seemingly amused by your frazzled state, observed you with a playful glint in her eye. You felt a rush of vulnerability as you ran around the room, both arms instinctively covering your chest to shield yourself from Wanda's piercing gaze.

As you searched for your top, she reached for the silk blouse that had been resting on the head of a swivel chair and offered it to you. You reached out to take it, but just as your fingers brushed against the fabric, Wanda pulled her arm back, causing you to stumble and fall into her embrace. She held you close, wrapping an arm around your waist to steady you. In the closeness of the moment, her words rang in your ears, reminding you of the business proposal she had made earlier.

"I want you to consider my offer, y/n," she whispered softly, her breath tickling your ear. "I meant what I said before. I truly believe we could achieve great things together."

The wave of embarrassment mixed with the excitement of the moment as you tried to cover up your exposed front from Wanda's lingering gaze. “I will. But can we please discuss this later?”

Wanda gave you a satisfied grin, handing you your shirt before stepping away to give you some privacy. As you swiftly turned around, you threw your shirt over your shoulders to cover the exposed skin of your back, and your fingers worked to fasten the buttons of your blouse. She observed you for a moment, taking in the sight of you as you composed yourself.

Deciding to take her leave, Wanda's heels clacked against the floor as she headed towards the exit of the conference room. However, with your back turned, you didn't notice her discreetly slipping a little red folder under her arm.

Unbeknownst to you, that folder contained the new timeline for the AI release, a pivotal piece of information that could shape the future of your company. In the midst of the intimate encounter, Wanda had managed to seize an opportunity to further her goals, using the moment to her advantage.

As she made her exit, a mischievous glint danced in her eyes, knowing that she had just played her cards strategically. The rivalry between your companies still burned fiercely, and she wasn't about to let the opportunity slip through her fingers. With the information concealed in that little red folder, Wanda was one step closer to gaining an edge in the competitive race.

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda x reader #wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff smut #fanfic #elizabeth olsen

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kquil · 21 days

Text

DIVORCING ORION BLACK | CHAPTER FOUR

04 : BEGINNINGS

CHPT. SUM. : beginning new things is always fun. getting to know your sons, them finally being able to experience having a loving mother, sirius going to school, and you planning for everything that was yet to come so that everyone gets to the happy ending they deserve.

LENGTH : 11.8k

TAGS : domestic fluff ; orion being a bad father ; original walburga being a nuisance ; reader being an amazing mother and an amazing cook ; regulus has food preferences ; brotherhood between sirius and regulus ; marauders spotted in the wild ; sirius and regulus being precious babies ; reader disrespecting walburga ; mentions of infertility ; mentions of divorce ; lots of future planning

← PREV. 03 : SHOPPING (2/2) | SERIES M.LIST

9th August 1971

It, surprisingly, took very little to get past Orion on the topic of changing Sirius and Regulus’ private tutors. However, when you truly looked at his workaholic tendencies, your initial surprise should have been the more startling reaction — of course, he wouldn’t care, he’s too fixated on the happenings with his position on the Wizengamot to be aware of much else, discounting the protective wards he put up around the property. Nevertheless, it was good news for you and your boys. Finally, they would be getting more suitable tutors, who catered to their learning needs in a more digestible way. You had only recently sent out the notice, though, so you don’t expect many replies to be coming in soon. Your only wish was to have fallen into this universe sooner, that way you would have had more time with Sirius before he left to attend Hogwarts as a first year.

Walburga didn’t have a formal occupation other than monitor her boys so having Sirius leave for his first year would mean less work for her and, subsequently, you. However, it’s not as if she needed the money; she’s the matriarch of an incredibly privileged family, meaning that her financial worries are close to non-existent. Both, the affluent family fortune and her lack of professional ambitions have you stumped, it’s something you’re not used to at all. Perhaps that’s why she’s so obsessed with control and the activity of her two sons; it’s not healthy and you don’t even want to attempt to understand what she was thinking—

“Of course you won’t!” Walburga snarls from the depths of your consciousness, her tone dripping with malice and a hint of something sinister. “I don’t expect someone who failed at becoming a mother to understand the right and true tribulations of bringing up children,”

“…how did you know that?” you ask aloud, no longer satisfied with simply trying to call for the bitch - Walburga’s - attention in your head. She didn’t seem to want to reply, which only made your blood boil; her prolonged silence, the trigger to releasing your rapidly escalating rage. How dare she?! How dare she strike you where it hurts the most, only to turn completely unresponsive when you demand answers, “Answer me!” Thick tensions fill the room when she does not answer, the silence suffocating and poisonous. Taking a slow, deep breath, you engage control over your anxious heart and trembling hands once more.

Work. You need work. Something to focus on so that you don’t dwell on memories that will only bring you heartache. It worked before so it’ll work for you now. It had worked so well, in fact, that you were able to build an empire out of it, perhaps you could replicate the same results this time.

“Screw you then, ugly pig, I have more important matters to attend to anyway,” pulling out a drawer, you scatter your notes across the desk and move with fretful fever but, also, enthusiasm above them. No matter the change of environment, you can always trust in your habits to push you forward. Walburga mainly worked on keeping the boys in line as the official matriarch of the Black household but that’s all her world revolved around, she had no hobbies or any close friends other than her relatives whom she communicated with, somewhat, regularly. With a guilty ache in your chest, you kept a gradually growing stack of letters in the bottom-most drawer of the hard oak desk, not yet knowing how to respond to people you barely knew. However, you suppose their relations to a character like Walburaga make it slightly easier to ignore their communications. The affiliation doesn’t warrant your precious time. If you could send a passive-aggressive email, you might be more willing, but the extended process of having to write out the letters and then send them via owl wasn’t worthwhile.

The priority on your list of important affairs is ensuring your boys’ happy and safe future. Sirius will not have to choose between Regulus and his friends, he will not suffer being blasted off the family tree, he will not have to be ashamed of his family, he will not have to witness his close friend’s death through another’s betrayal, and he will not be forced to go to Azkaban. Similarly, Regulus will not have to suffer Sirius abandoning him, he will not have to face his prejudicial parents alone, he will not be forced into getting the dark mark, he will not have to make the sacrifice he had to make at such a young age, he will not die a miserable and lonely death, and he will not be forgotten! You will make sure of it.

Coming into the world as a Harry Potter and Marauders fan, you’re well-equipped with all the knowledge required to make the right decisions. The only problem is that the Marauders era has been a largely vague timeline that most of the fandom filled in for themselves so you’ll have to tread carefully. This will require meticulous planning, a steady rise to power and a conglomeration of useful allies to help set your plans into motion. Modern-day knowledge and business etiquette will serve you well here. You’ve survived toxic work environments, won in the race to riches, and dealt with all manner of manipulative, sexist swine you could ever think to encounter. If you play your cards right, you’re sure to win.

“As if a muggle like you could conquer the wizarding world!” Walburga finally makes her appearance once again. And, of course, it’s for the sake of belittling you whilst making your head throb painfully from her distasteful screeches.

“Shut up,” you hiss unapologetically, resisting the urge to smirk, “Unlike you, I know the future—” breathing the words aloud brings a blaring, singular thought to the front of your mind. The vision you witnessed at the Owl Emporium replays in your head once more…

How in the world did Walburga know about the biting habit of Sirius’ future owl?…

Several moments pass achingly slow as you anticipate the aggravating screeching of Walburga to return. When no such wailing occurs or interrupts your train of thought, your mind immediately begins to spiral.

How could Walburga remember being at the Emporium, shopping for Sirius’ first year at Hogwarts when she had yet to go shopping with him in the first place? They couldn’t have already gone, right? Orion would have said something if they were being inefficient enough to go a second time. That or the boys would have definitely made some comment…

This felt like an urgent matter that needed your immediate attention but you had to prioritise other things for now. It’s not like the original Walburga was going to give you the answers you needed so it wasn’t any use pressing on the matter. It’s best to turn your focus and efforts elsewhere. Peering back at your scattered notes, you raise your newly acquired wand and utter the crafting spell you had learned recently.

“Libeligare,” As you wave your wand over the desk, activity springs forth. In a flurry of animated pages and whistling currents in the air, your disordered notes compile themselves appropriately before binding themselves into a fresh notebook. It doesn’t have a hard cover and you debate on transfiguring a decorative letter set piece into one but think against it. This will do nicely for the moment.

Finally, all your detailed plans are in one place.

10th August 1971

With nothing better to do and desperate for a decent meal, you address the home-cooked meals situation. Every dish served at the Black household was so unappetising and bland, that you couldn’t believe that the family was one of the most influential and richest families to exist in the wizarding world. You’re beginning to believe that the Blacks were the type of family to indulge in unpalatable spreads with the reasoning that they refuse to eat the same meals as those lesser than them. How childish. Even in your city-centre penthouse, you ordered take-out frequently and ate ordinary home-cooked meals that were comforting and warm. The memories make you compare all the meals you’ve had in Grimmauld Place and blanch abhorrently. This wouldn’t do, especially for your growing boys. They need to be well-fed so that they grow up healthy and strong.

“Mistress!” Kreacher shrieks behind you, making you jump and spin around all at once. The hunched-over house elf dashes through the kitchen space clumsily and with much vigour, he pulls painfully at his drooping ears as his eyes bulge out from seeing you, his mistress, the matriarch, in the kitchen cooking! Without magic!

“Don’t be so dramatic, Kreacher,” you chuckle softly and turn back to your food prep, “I’m just trying to cook an easy breakfast for my boys,” if you could truly have it your way then you would cook enough only for you and your two darling sons to eat. Orion would have to sort his own plate. But you’re not divorced yet so you suppose this is a compromise you’ll have to make.

“I-It is not mistress’ job, let Kreacher do it—!” the house elf, reaches forward to take the kitchen utensils from you but you’re too swift.

“I want to cook the food Kreacher,” you argue and continue pottering about the kitchen as if it was just another Tuesday morning, all while Kreacher follows you around helplessly. He’s clearly stuck between letting you have your way or forcing you to let him cook instead. Both felt wrong in different ways considering his position as the house elf, and he was brought to a standstill. The poor guy looked ready to throw himself off a cliff from the indecision and panic.

Having sympathy for the elf, you call to him over your shoulder, “Kreacher can you please pass me the eggs?” this feels like a good even ground to dance on. Soon enough you’ll be teaching Kreacher how to finally relax. Kreacher appeared happy to finally be doing something but as soon as he hesitantly handed over the eggs, he was back to being anxious all over again. Even though you are the matriarch of the household, you supposed you’ll have to share the kitchen with a very distressed house elf for the foreseeable future.

For the rest of the morning, you’ve asked Kreacher to help you with crisping up the beacon, cleaning the mushrooms, opening up the can of beans, toasting the bread and laying out the table. No more tasteless, boring porridge for breakfast with no toppings, today you’re serving a Full English. Admiring the spread, you thank Kreacher for his assistance before undoing your apron and putting the finishing touches to the dining table just as the rest of the family make it down for breakfast.

“What is all this?” Orion asks in slight surprise when catching sight of breakfast for the day, “Is today very important?”

“No,” nonchalance keeps your tone controlled just as your precious babies walk through the door and hop into their designated seats at the table, one more enthusiastic than the other, “I’m just tired of plain old porridge every day,”

“Porridge is delicious,” Orion defends.

“Every day?” from the look in his eyes, you don’t know whether or not you’ve bested him so turn a serene smile his way instead, “I can always ask Kreacher to make you porridge if you really want,”

Orion takes a moment to observe the full, vibrant plate of bacon, toast, grilled tomatoes, sautéed mushrooms, sausages, black pudding, scrambled eggs and beans. If he takes any longer to play indecisive, the food will get cold and your precious babies are waiting on his dainty, princess-ass to make a decision— can you hurry the fuck up?! you want to scream at him. Every meal is started after his first bite (the pretentious, narcissistic douche) so he needs to make up his mind quickly or else you’ll lose yours waiting around!

“…it’ll be a waste, this will do,” he finally picks up his knife and fork to begin eating and you have to reign yourself in before you roll your eyes too noticeably at his conceited behaviour. Your babies behave better than him. The prick!

Turning to your boys, you observe Sirius and Regulus digging into their own meals before finally taking a bite out of yours. It felt good to see their eyes light up like that, especially Sirius’ — it makes you want to giggle at how obviously he had been wanting to devour his beans and toast the instant he laid eyes on them.

Breakfast continues pleasantly as everyone enjoys their meal until you begin to notice some peculiar movement in the corner of your eye. You try to be as subtle as you can, considering the uncommon calm that has fallen over the dining table; it isn’t usually this comfortable around the table so you wanted to preserve the ambience as much as possible. The source of your curious gaze was Sirius and Regulus.

Covertly, Regulus sneaks spoonfuls of his scrambled eggs onto Sirius’ plate, who proceeds to eat up his younger brother’s share as quickly as possible. Regulus was doing this willingly despite this morning’s breakfast being the first appetising meal he’s had yet. It won’t be the last either. However, from the way Sirius is scarfing down the food whilst trying to remain as silent as possible, it wouldn’t be surprising if Sirius eventually suffers from a stomachache later on. You wonder what could be the matter with the scrambled eggs. Was the seasoning off? Kreacher helped taste test every element of the meal and gave his stellar praise for your unrealised culinary skills so you’re more than a bit confused at the scene. After swallowing all remnants of food in your mouth, you gently raise a question.

“Regulus?” your youngest freezes up immediately, making your brows furrow but still, you continue in a soft voice, “What’s wrong?” Deep in your chest, you feel your heart clench in worry at the deer-in-headlights expression plastered across Regulus’ cherubic face.

You are met with only silence, “do you not like your eggs, darling?” you try meeting your youngest’s eyes but he’s terrified to even face your direction. Instead, he’s firmly steered his gaze down to his lap and keeps it there, frozen in place.

There’s a slam of the table and everyone stiffens. At the head, Orion stares disapprovingly at Regulus, who begins to tremble like a leaf, “How rude!” the patriarch spits with such force and bite that his saliva lands halfway down the lengthy dining table. He’s so scandalised by his son’s behaviour that the cold from his freezing gaze drops the temperature in the room lower than it already is. “How many times have we talked about this Regulus? Finish your plate at once or else it’ll be the last meal you eat today!”

“He’s not being rude!” you counter, flying out of your seat and making your way to Regulus, “And he shouldn’t be forced to eat something he doesn’t like nor punished harshly for disliking something,” Crouching down, you position yourself to block Orion from Regulus’ line of sight despite his frightened doe-eyes remaining transfixed on his lap. His small hands are turned into small, knuckle-white fists, gripping fiercely at the fabric of his trousers. A paralysed statue of fear incarnate, your little boy doesn’t deserve this! If you could ‘Avada Kedavra’ Orion’s pathetic, prissy ass, you would in a heartbeat.

From your peripheral, you notice how Sirius had placed a comforting hand over one of Regulus’ closed fists and the sight made your heart bloom with pride and joy — seeing how well they take care of each other was so heartwarming. “Tell me what’s wrong, Reg…I promise I won’t get mad,” you make sure to keep your voice in a low whisper so that only your son can hear but also loud enough that Orion’s distant grumbling is disguised.

“Do you not like eggs?” your prompting remains gentle and patient, hoping for a fraction of understanding. That’s all you really want.

Sensing no antagonistic feeling in your tone, Regulus finally wills himself to speak, although barely audible from insecurity, “I….I don’t like scrambled eggs…”

“No? What about them don’t you like?”

"They feel weird in my mouth, I don’t like chewing them,” he explains shyly, his confession dripping with shame. His grey eyes look into your own remorsefully and, before he can utter an apology, he is stopped by the shaking of your head.

Smiling warmly, you pat his small hand and voice your reassurance, “That’s a reasonable preference to have. Do you not like the texture?” Regulus nods in confirmation as his small, tense shoulders slowly ease up, “Do you not like eggs at all or do you like them cooked in a particular way?”

Regulus’ eyes widen with surprise. Never before had his mother been so attentive to his preferences like this. On the contrary, His mother was always the first to make him feel embarrassed for his picky tendencies when it came to food, especially over dishes that make him lose his appetite entirely, oysters and shellfish being the main culprit. He really didn’t like them at all. Many times, they were the appetiser to multiple-course meals hosted by pureblood, elitist wizarding families so Walburga was determined to season her son’s palettes early on in life. It was good etiquette to eat such foods and to know how to eat them properly. If he didn’t display appropriate dinner etiquette at the table then he is lesser, he is unworthy of the Black family name and blood running through his veins, he is unbecoming of his heritage, he is a disgrace—

“I can cook eggs in many other ways,” you suggest thoughtfully, voice remaining soft and comforting, “I can fry them for you? Or I can boil them? Do you like your yolk runny or firm?”

Regulus, spurred on by your softly placed questions feels the corners of his lips tug upwards, “fried eggs, please…”

His innocuous answer makes you beam, “with a runny or firm yolk, darling?”

“Runny, please,” Regulus finds your bright expression infectious and begins to smile a little wider too. Over the slope of his little brother’s small shoulders, Sirius is grinning from ear to ear; finally, Regulus isn’t going to be forced to eat something he doesn’t enjoy. The elation makes Sirius’ chest swell as his heart pinches slightly at the memory of his little brother retching up the contents of his stomach in the bathroom. Those disastrous, past meals started badly and they ended badly too. Peering at you with smiling eyes, Sirius knows that he won’t need to worry about that any more.

“Of course, right away," you’re eager to leave and fix up Regulus’ plate but you also worry about leaving him with Orion at the dinner table; your husband wasn’t too pleased with Regulus having preferences — the pretentious prick could choke on his food and die for all you cared, “how about we go to the kitchen together?” you offer smoothly as you begin to stand, “that way, you can watch me cook and make sure I do them just the way you like it,” smiling brightly, Regulus nods and easily offers his hand for you to hold, “Siri, would you like to come?” if one brother was coming with you so was the other.

“Yes please!” Sirius happily walks to the kitchen, hand-in-hand with Regulus, whose other hand is fully wrapped up in your own.

From the head of the table, Orion stares with his mouth agape at what he had just been a witness to. What was happening to his wife?!

11th August 1971

Sirius and Regulus stand by the fireplace, waving off their newly appointed private tutor as they floo away before eagerly making their way to your home office. Usually, their session catch-ups would make the two freeze up and drag their feet along the plush carpets of their family’s proud home but not now. Ever since your irregular activities leading up to your fainting spell and subsequent switch in demeanour, they’ve felt safer and happier at home. But only around you, their father still frightened them. The patriarch’s grey eyes swirled with a mounting turbulence that they would greatly prefer to avoid so they quickly make themselves scarce around him but not around their mother. Not anymore.

“I can’t wait to show Mother my cursive practice,” Regulus has a skip in his step as he walks beside his older brother, who beams at him proudly.

“Yeah, you’re getting really good at that Reggie,” Sirius praises, a slightly envious tone edging into his words, but it all remained playful, “say, how do you do your swirls so good?”

“Practise!”

Sirius rolls his eyes at his younger brother’s cheek, “There has to be a secret to it that I don’t know about,” Regulus only giggles at his older brother’s shortcomings. This had been a rare happiness to experience at 12 Grimmauld Place but, gradually, it was becoming common between the two brothers. Suddenly the walls weren’t so drab, the furniture not as boring and the decorations not as hauntingly placed. The atmosphere was much brighter as sunlight always seemed to pour magnanimously in from the windows.

“Sorry Siri,” from Regulus’ free-flowing, tuneful words, he isn’t sorry at all but Sirius can never will up any hatred for his younger brother. They’ve been through it all together and now that their recent joys were also being shared, of course, they would partake in harmless teasing — teasing that was usually frowned upon by their mother but was no longer a worry. They can’t remember the last time their mother frowned — the two greatly prefer this new version of their mother’s expressions much more.

As they approach your office door, the brothers’ footfalls quicken and they barely catch themselves from bursting through the door without knocking. But not before they catch sight of your figure through the crack of the doorway. Curious about your activity, Sirius hushes his younger brother softly and holds him back so that he can lean forward to observe your figure closely. Inspired by his older brother’s nosiness, Regulus leans forward also and the two peer at you through the doorway crack.

You’re not at your desk but are, instead, seated on the plush, cushioned seats of the emerald sofa placed in front of your desk. Black robes and other familiar attire are piled up beside you on one side while the other gradually assembles the neatly folded aftermath of your sewing…embroidery? Was there even a difference? Nevertheless, you had a needle and thread in hand without your wand or the use of magic in sight!

“Mother’s sewing your name tags herself,” Regulus concludes in a whisper following a muted gasp of surprise.

Sirius’ eyes widen ever so slightly, “and she’s not using magic…” he doesn’t know how skilled you are at sewing but Sirius doesn’t care, the gesture alone is enough to make his chest swell. Even his face began to warm up from the heat climbing up his neck as it tried reaching his ears.

“…do you think she’ll sew my name tags too? When I start my first year, I mean…” Regulus asks shyly, the clear insecurity in his timid voice making Sirius slightly defensive.

“Of course, she will,” he huffs before grinning widely, “and if we tear up our uniform ‘accidentally’ I’m sure she’ll sew those up herself too!” Regulus doesn’t know whether he likes or dislikes his brother’s train of thought but smiles anyway; he’s just happy thinking about his mother paying as much attention and care to his first-year robes too. He can’t wait until he starts attending Hogwarts as well.

Finally willing themselves to stop eavesdropping and return to their earlier task, Sirius and Regulus straighten their posture before knocking on the heavy wooden door. They don’t have to wait terribly long for an answering call to grant their entrance.

“Come in,” you set your tools aside and smile when the door reveals your babies stepping into your office, “hello, my darlings,” from your periphery, you spot the time on the clock face and jump into conversation with them, “how was your tutoring session? Did you like your new tutor?”

“Yeah!” the two answer simultaneously and with the same amount of enthusiasm — it makes you smile with content. Happiness looks good on them; their characters shine brighter and their faces are more child-like. They’re honestly the cutest little boys you’ve ever seen and now they’re your sons to love and protect.

“That’s wonderful news,” you open your arms for each of them to jump into, “Tell me all about it,” you’re just about to magic away the robes and sewing equipment so that they can sit beside you but not before you spot Sirius inspecting your handiwork, “I’m afraid I’m not the best seamstress,” your confession comes out bashfully, “I should have had Madam Malkins sew the tags on for me—”

“No!—” Sirius interrupts, looking almost offended that you would consider such a thing, “I like your sewing,” you raise a brow and, together with Regulus, inspect your uneven, treasure map trail of stitches before turning to the eldest brother once more.

“Are you sure, darling?”

“Yeah, only you can do the stitching on my uniform, no one else,” his firm answer makes your embarrassed expression melt into a warm smile.

“Alright then,”

“Thank you, Mother,” he gives you another hug that you happily return.

“You’re welcome, my dear,”

Looking over your plans, you sigh in restrained frustration. This is going to be a little hard. Yes, you know what to do but it’s all about recruiting the right people, trustworthy people and ones who are right for the role you’re choosing to give them. There’s a lot on your plate too, with your most urgent goal being divorce. You’re convinced that it isn’t going to be easy, considering the controversies that will surround the separation of a prominent wizarding house. The laws surrounding marriage, divorce and custody at this time are also largely unknown to you. Thankfully, you’ve had the privilege of living in a modern ‘muggle’ society where marriage and custody laws were pretty equal and fair. Perhaps there’s a book you can read up on about these things. For now, it’s a safe bet to say that custody will favour Orion as a man in the 1970s — it’s better to over-prepare than be underprepared for any outcome.

Despite the importance of this particular undertaking, you’ll have to wait until both, Sirius and Regulus, are attending Hogwarts to commence the divorce proceedings. You don’t want your boys to be front-row witnesses nor do you want them to rollercoaster through the typical, rough emotions of children caught up in their parents’ divorce. You’ve been through that already… and you barely made it out on the other side. You’re an adult and they’re just children; if you can protect them from the brunt of it, you will.

A stray thought pushes forward into your consciousness — it would be too optimistic to confidently wager on the boys siding with you. Although under abusive parenting, children are very loyal and you’re benefiting from that loyalty now; even though Walburga was incredibly cruel to her sons, they were still eager to give you a chance as soon as you took over and began treating them kindly. You need to be cautious. The silver lining of it all is that you’ll, at least, have some time to prepare affluently before starting the separation process. That, on its own, however, will require another bout of planning.

Saving Regulus is another priority on your list. That requires getting rid of the Horcruxes and killing off snake-faced Voldy but you don’t want to be too hands-on with that, especially because you’re not very adept at casting spells yet — there’ll be more experienced and more willing people (Aurors) who would be able to handle this type of mission. All you have to do is pull the right strings and connect with the right people. Eyeing another task on your list, you spot a small connection and smirk to yourself. The nib of your quill dips into a pot of ink and bridges two of your obligations.

“This could be quite beneficial on both ends,” if you play your cards right…

Making some more careful notes, you gradually begin to piece everything together. But then there’s the issue of Sirius being sent to Azkaban. It’s healthy to have faith in yourself but if someone’s life and wellbeing are in danger, especially if it’s your son’s, you need to have a second, third and fourth plan at the ready. There needs to be a second, third and fourth plan for Regulus as well. Luck and misfortune will always have some influence on the dice you roll, there will never be an exception to that. You’ve learned this enough times in your previous life already, not just in business but everything else too.

Your quill stops and rests beside your plans as the cogs in your brain turn with more purpose. Sirius still needs to become an animagus and Regulus needs to learn how to be a strong enough swimmer so that he can cast a spell to repel the Inferi. It would be beneficial if they both become well-equipped in duelling. That’ll require your lack of interference (maybe even your support) until Sirius’ fifth year, getting Regulus sorted with swimming lessons and encouraging both on their Defence Against the Dark Arts skills. You make a quick note of both solutions and their reasoning before linking both back to your list of obligations.

The progress you’re making with these intervention plans is making headway. You just hope that you won’t tip the scales too far so that what little control you currently have slips right through your fingers and you’ll be left floundering.

20th August 1971

You’ve fully taken over the cooking for all meals and your boys are looking much healthier. It warms your heart every time you see them happily eating your cooking, it was hard work keeping up with the pantry inventory, planning meals and catering to their individual tastes but it was good work that filled your heart with so much content, you hardly felt the fatigue creeping into your bones.

Regulus isn’t a picky eater, he simply has a preference for some foods over others. He doesn’t like his eggs scrambled, only fried and with a runny yolk; he can’t stomach oysters or shellfish; he doesn’t like pulp in his juice and he’d rather eat a raw onion than have any trace of offal trimmings in his food.

Sirius can practically eat anything and does so healthily, however, he’s more of a savoury person, leaving Regulus to own the sweet tooth palette by himself. Both adore cheese and you often create mini charcuterie boards for them to snack on. It was so adorable. There was plenty of time on your schedule to assign towards aesthetic food presentation so you’ve mastered the creation of salami roses. You’ve also found that Sirius prefers caramelised onion chutney to go with his mature cheeses whilst Regulus goes for a sweeter fig chutney.

Currently, you were making them their own mini charcuterie boards. Both were displayed on a circular board with their favourite chutney at the very centre, held in a small ceramic container. And, with decorative prowess, you place their selection of meats, cheeses, crackers and grapes around it.

“Do they look good Kreacher?” the house elf peers over the countertop surface and gives an affirming nod with a barely noticeable smile.

“The young masters will be very happy, Mistress,” helpfully he suggests bringing the carefully prepared boards and crust-less finger sandwiches up to the boys’ study room for you but you shake your head.

“Thank you, Kreacher, but I think I’ll bring up the food this time,” you’ve met their new private tutor several times already but she was always so tense around you; you’re determined to improve her impression through some good old exposure therapy. “Please prepare some tea and bring it up as soon as you’re done,” with your wand and a softly uttered ‘locomotor charcuterie boards and sandwiches’, the items lift into the air just slightly and you begin to move them out of the kitchen.

“What tea should Kreacher be brewin’ this noon, Mistress?”

“Oolong would be lovely today. Be sure to brew some Earl grey for Orion too but deliver the Oolong to us first please,” Kreacher’s struggles with your utterance of the polite ‘please’ persists but he continues with his set tasks regardless. The hunched-over house elf has noticed you’ve been prioritising the young masters much more than Orion recently; whenever you want to do something thoughtful, you always think of your sons first. Only last minute do you finally remember your workaholic husband and leave the snack preparations for Kreacher to fulfil and deliver alone. It’s a peculiar shift in attention, the wrinkled elf admits, but seeing his young master Regulus so happy, he doesn’t complain. Kreacher also admits that he’s growing a slight, mutual fondness for the elder Black brother, the two share in their love for Regulus and loyalty to you; now they’ve become friendly acquaintances. The house elf is a little happier and much more willing than ever before to stay loyal to his mistress and young masters’ sides. And Master Orion too, of course.

Making your way up the stairs, the pretentious cow stuck in your head makes her presence known with inconsequential complaints.

“You’re spoiling those boys far too much!” Walburga shrieks and immediately makes your temples pound, “Sirius and Regulus don’t need this much attention, if you continue this they’re going to grow up soft and weak and unable to carry on the Black family name with the proper dignity and class!” For the sake of avoiding the horrid healing potion Kreacher’s having you consume after every fainting spell, you’ve been training yourself to build up as much resistance to her incessantly obnoxious yapping as much as possible — you’re getting there but you still need some practise. Currently, you are traversing the stairs so you’re taking every step with extra caution.

“Bitches should be seen and not heard,” her confounded gasp doesn’t escape you, “so kindly shut the fuck up,” the sarcastic cheerfulness in your tone makes her gasp once more and, like a coward, makes herself scarce. It seems as though you’ve gotten better at shutting the shrew up but she has yet to acclimatise herself to your shameless disrespect towards her. Hopefully, she never gets used to your comments; it’s always such a pleasure being able to render her utterly speechless.

With a pleased smile, you give a soft knock on the boys’ study room before entering. The boys gasp happily as soon as they see the levitating charcuterie boards and the plateful of crust-less sandwiches float closer and closer.

“I’m sorry to interrupt but I think you all deserve a lunch break,” the boys cheer and happily dig in while you face their tutor with a small smile, “please feel free to have as many sandwiches as you want, we have plenty on offer,” her smile is hesitant and slightly trembles under your hold so she’s quick to look away and fix her focus onto the plate of sandwiches — her own, personal reprieve from having to interact with you.

Peony Knight. She’s an incredibly timid individual who seems to be in her element only when teaching children rather than in the company of said children’s adult parents — she has yet to look you in the eye for an extended period. Her head is an organised plight of feathery, strawberry-blonde hair and her eyes are a pair of opal pendants, so brilliantly blue but incandescent with a kaleidoscope of other jewel colours. Her resume was astounding but her family wasn’t very notable so you could only imagine her surprise when she received your response to her application with a test run of her skills. It was important to you that she comes from an uncommon house and family, you didn’t want to draw too much attention over switching tutors. At her tutoring trial run, she started very shaky but eventually found her confidence when focusing on your two boys rather than your lurking figure from the corner of the study. She was a good runner-up and quickly became the perfect choice when your boys showed favour towards her – the other candidates appeared to have been more affected by your presence in the room and taught the way they thought you wanted them to.

“She’s nice and patient,” Regulus commented when you went to him after her trial lesson.

“I like the way she explains things,” Sirius added beside him.

That was all you needed to hire her as their private tutor. Peony’s timidity of you as an authority figure played in her favour very well.

Hidden within a thick pile of stacked parchments and a small mountain of miscellaneous scrolls, you found Walburga’s carefully curated curriculum for the boys and handed it over to Peony. Walburga would know better than you what would be useful for her sons to learn. However, you were surprised at the amount of ‘muggle’ topics on her curated list. Admittedly, you were only expecting foundational wizarding lessons maybe on wands or classic pureblood etiquette so your shock was justified. Walburga’s reaction, however, wasn’t.

“I teach them proper pureblood etiquette myself, you useless girl! And how can I expect my sons to grow up well if they aren’t taught the basics?! They’ll be able to advance as better wizards of the Black family that way. Moreover, muggles stick to and remain in the basics so don’t get smug with me, you filthy mud-blood!” Walburga screeched without restraint and with much offence after your initial revelation, leading to another fainting spell — the disgusting bitch…

In addition to Peony’s private tutoring, you’ve taken to providing your own private lessons to the boys, much to their surprise and slight hesitancy. However, as soon as you began the extended lessons after their usual morning session with Peony one day, they’ve since grown to love it. This didn’t happen every time, however, only on Tuesdays and Fridays. Today was one of those days, a Friday, and you’re so excited to see their reactions to what you have planned.

Their schedules typically consist of Peony coming over a couple of hours before noon and she teaches them for two or three hours sessions every day except weekends. Mondays were for English language and literature (wizard and muggle), Tuesdays were for Economics, Numeracy and Financial literacy, Wednesdays were for French and Cursive handwriting practice, Thursdays were for muggle sciences (basic biology, physics and chemistry) and Fridays were for history and philosophy (wizard and muggle).

You reserve the fun lessons for your boys with yourself as their teacher. These were composed of lessons that typically challenged their problem-solving, creativity and other fundamental skills to set them up with a good foundation for school and life in general. This included fun puzzle-solving, art (in every medium the boys wanted), some written/scenario problem-solving and role-play scenarios. The first Friday you did this, you had the boys act out from rough, child-friendly scripts you drafted inspired by the Shakespearian play, Macbeth. It seemed like an innocuous lesson but you wanted to gauge their ethical understandings and reasonings.

Throughout the scenes, you would spontaneously make them freeze frame to ask prompting questions that typically go along the lines of, ‘what would you do in this situation?’, ‘do think that was the right thing to do?’, and ‘why did you think your character did this even though they knew it was wrong?’. Both engaged very well with their own perspectives on the situation.

At one point they got into a small argument that you needed to break up due to slightly differing standpoints on the scenario. It became slightly more heated than you expected but you were thankful for the opportunity to teach them how to communicate well with each other despite their differences. The lesson ended after that because tensions were still high and they were equally very stubborn about who should apologise first.

It was going to take more than one lesson to be able to make them understand the rules and the importance of healthy communication, but that was to be expected. This was just the beginning so you’re hoping that if you stay consistent with fostering their ethical reasoning, communication and problem-solving skills, they will be able to remain brotherly despite their opposing Hogwarts houses. In the end, you made them apologise at the same time (to the count of three) and had them hug it out before telling them to say one thing they like about the other person. Evidently, they weren’t used to your new way of doing things and making amends but they (grumpily) did as they were told — and looked absolutely adorable doing it, their pouty faces were too much to bear!

Approaching the two boys indulging in their individual charcuterie boards and occasionally exchanging bites of their share, you kneel between them and begin pleasant conversations about their current lesson.

“Are you two having fun so far?” you could practically see Peony stiffen up like cement behind you, just from the telling gasp she lets out in the background. Being so high-strung isn’t going to be good for her health so you hope she gets used to your presence soon enough. You do feel slightly apologetic for her but she needs to know that people can change no matter how drastically. Hopefully, she takes this opportunity to grow some confidence in herself too. Someone so intelligent should walk with broader shoulders and a higher chin.

“Yeah! Did you know Pythagoras had a cult?” Sirius was practically bouncing in his chair.

“No, he had a school of very intelligent mathematicians and musicians,” Regulus countered after swallowing his bite of cracker, cheese and grapes.

Sirius rolls his eyes but immediately jumps into another topic, “he discovered the theory of pitch which is surprising coming from a guy who’s scared of beans,” he cracks himself up laughing at the statement.

Again, Regulus interjects in defence of the philosopher, “he wasn’t scared of beans,” the two brothers exchange narrowed stares, “He just believed that beans were the vessels for dead people’s souls and didn’t want to disrespect them by running through a bean field,” a small argument ensues but you don’t act, instead, you watch as a bystander in the hopes that your presence alone can keep them in check. If you ever feel the need to jump in at some point, you will.

All too well, Sirius and Regulus remain aware of your lingering attendance to their quarrel and make the silent agreement to not escalate things too far. For a moment, they share a knowing look after briefly glancing your way and glaring at each other once again. You watch them huff and inhale a slow, shaky breath. They actively turn their voices down whilst continuing with their argument. It didn’t seem to go anywhere but both concluded it with less heat and more of a calm acknowledgement of each other’s differing sides.

“Two people can have different opinions and still be friends. They only need to respect that the other person holds a different view and that it doesn’t make them a bad person,” they remembered your sage advice from their first extracurricular lesson with you. It was a massive shift in perspective to their growing minds and the impact it had on both of them was enough to permanently imprint the message into their heads.

Unprompted, you lean forward and press a kiss to each of their foreheads, Sirius first and then Regulus, “I’m so proud of you two,” you watch as their cherubic cheeks flush an adorable, pink hue. Sirius scratches the back of his head bashfully whilst Regulus fiddles with his pen, both of them equally biting back a small smile from the praise, “you remembered what I taught you,” they look upon your elated smile with shy fulfilment as they nod slightly. “Another person’s opposing opinions might be something we don’t share or appreciate as much as they do but…” they lean forward ever so slightly, wanting to consciously heed your elaboration on the topic, “hearing or witnessing a different view will expand our perspective on the world and help us grow as people. We need to keep an open mind for these sorts of things because they can teach us so much. It might be hard to do sometimes, but I want to ask you two for a small favour,” they nod silently, not questioning or hesitating at your words, fully trusting in your sensible knowledge — their mother was always a brick wall when it came to the opinions of others, they couldn’t penetrate her, especially when it came to opposite views on blood purity so, to see her encouraging such undogmatic behaviour, is peculiar but in a strangely motivating way. They find that they want to do whatever it is that you want to ask them to do no matter what, “I want the two of you to try to understand the other side of any argument or opposite view. The world isn’t as black and white as we think it is. We have to try to be understanding and empathetic people. There may be reasons someone sees the world a certain way and even if we don’t agree or like their opinion, the least we can do is try to understand them. Just try. That’s all… that’s enough,”

It was a lot to take in and it was a lot to ask of such young minds that were still developing. But you weren’t asking for them to be perfect at it. All you want them to do is try.

“Alright, Mother,” Sirius nods with solid determination in his eyes.

“Whatever you wish, Mother,” Regulus says at the same time, also glowing with resolve.

Smiling happily, you bring them into a group hug, your arms easily curling around their small shoulders as you press another kiss to their temples, “you don’t have to be perfect, just try,“ you reiterate in a whisper, “I’m so proud of you, my darlings, you make mommy so happy,” you don’t see it but you feel their bright smiles press into your neck from either side as they return your embrace and nuzzle their faces into the junction of your neck and shoulders.

˖ ݁𖥔.☁︎.𖥔 ݁ ˖

Their lesson ended a few minutes ago and, like routine, they wave off Peony at the living room fireplace while you set up the study with all the things you planned on having them do for the afternoon. You asked them if they wanted to take a break before your lesson but they said they were happy to begin right away. They were able to detect the sparkle of excitement in your eyes as you left after their lunch break and were now filled with the same eagerness to begin your lesson.

Setting up their table with tools, aprons and a protective mat warmed your heart. You had planned so many things to do with your future children in your original life, read so many books and attended so many talks, lectures and groups on how to be a good mother that your heart was finally able to heal the scars that resulted from the infertility diagnosis you were slammed with years ago. You felt like a failure, not only as a mother but as a woman to be told that. It wasn’t until you were able to recover from that debilitating news that you finally began to consider adoption. It took years and years and the building of a corporate empire to finally get to that point but then, you were doomed once more. At the centre of a collision in the busy city streets, you lost consciously accepting your fate only to end up here…it was all quite a blessing really. Now you have two beautiful sons to call your own and to love with all of your heart. As an added bonus, they’re also two of your favourite characters from the Harry Potter universe.

You could barely contain your excitement when you heard a small knock at the door to the study. They were here.

“Come in, darlings,”

Stepping into the room, Sirius and Regulus gasp in awe and begin jumping on the spot ever so slightly from feverish anticipation. In your outstretched hands were two small, grey aprons, one displaying Sirius’ name and the other Regulus’ along the upper seam of the apron’s breast pocket. Without being asked, they step up to their aprons and reach forward to put the article on themselves. As they do so, you announce what you will be doing for the afternoon.

“Clay sculptures?” Sirius almost squeals in excitement as Regulus bounces on the balls of his feet.

“We’ve never done that before,” Regulus chimes as you kneel behind him to help with tying up his apron, eventually moving on to redo Sirius’ clumsy knot as well.

“It’ll be fun,” you giggle, “fun and messy,” Sirius appreciates the hint of mischief in your voice and rushes to take a seat at the table with Regulus toddling along close behind him. You take a seat too and begin to talk them through the little sculpting tools they have beside them, the small mountain of clay at their disposal and the use for the bowls of water within reach.

Regulus is listening but he can’t help glimpsing down at his stitched-on name tag every few seconds or so. His chest feels warm and so so tight that he feels like he’s about to burst. You had hand-stitched his name tag onto the apron yourself. He recognised the inexperienced, inconsistent stitches but he thinks it’s the most beautiful display of embroidery he has ever seen. There’s also the revelation that Regulus didn’t need to wait to go to Hogwarts to know that you would be attentive enough to do the same thing for his clothes as you did to Sirius’. He feels special and he loves the affectionate attention you were giving him, all the motherly love he and his older brother had always dreamed of experiencing was finally happening, not only through kind words but in warm hugs, soft kisses and silent acts of service too. He feels a surge of wanting to do well in everything, from studying to writing to eating to sleeping — all of it! He’ll do well in all of it. He only wants to make you proud.

“Let’s begin with rolling out a piece of our clay,” you start, encouraging them to get messy, keep their clay hydrated and not worry about the state of their tools because you’ll all be washing them at the end together. After that, you had them make little balls using their hands and then roll out one ball into a flat sheet using their small rolling pins. With another ball, you instructed them to attempt making it flat using their hands instead, which helped you explain that moving around the clay with their hands makes the clay easier to mould.

“Have you two been learning about muggle sciences?” you gently ask as the two go about flattening their spheres a little more so that they can carve patterns into them using their small wooden tools.

“Yeah, I like the one called physics,” Sirius grins, eyes still focused on his clay.

“Me too!” Regulus chimes and the two brothers grin at each other, which makes you smile.

“That’s very good,” you nod, spotting an opportunity, “so where do you think the heat comes from when we roll out our clay?”

“From our hands,” Sirius immediately answers.

“That’s right, anything else?”

The question is open for the two of them but Regulus is the one who answers next, “From all the moving around,”

“Brilliant, my darlings,” you praise and they grin pridefully.

“Now, can you name the types of energies those are called? If you’ve learned about them, that is,” The brothers look at each other before beginning to ponder separately. The silence draws on so you decide to give them a little help, “What are all the energies called?” They do just fine with regurgitating the ten different energy types and that seems to be enough to prompt Regulus.

“The moving around is kinetic energy,”

Sirius jumps to answer as well, “and our hands transfer the thermal energy,”

“Good good!” you give them a small round of applause, which they bashfully smile at, “you two are so clever!… What did I hear about this ‘transferring’ of energy, Siri?” your question comes out in a nonchalant tone.

“Peony says that energy is stored and transferred,” Sirius answers, “and that they sometimes turn into another type of energy,”

“I see,” you look down at your own clay spheres and sheets, “where is the thermal energy from my hands coming from?” once again, they’re silent, “I think this can link to biology, specifically our biology,” that gets the cogs in their brains turning again and you can’t help but coo at their adorable thinking faces.

“It’s from…” Regulus begins, immediately catching both yours and Sirius’ undivided attention, your eyes equally encouraging him to continue with his answer, “It’s from the energy in our food,”

Eyes sparkling with delight, you prompt him once more, “And what energy is that called?”

“…Chemical!”

“Good job!” Sirius claps for his brother’s success and reaches up for a high five that Regulus happily hits and once again, they’re grinning at each other.

“What about for the movement?” This was a trick question but your boys are clever so you have full faith in them. Regulus already answered his share so he silently backs out from the arena by looking up at Sirius who begins to ruminate. “…well the movement has to come from somewhere, doesn’t it?” you thoughtfully point out, beginning to play around with your clay and trying to look innocent about it despite it being a definite clue.

“It comes from us!” Sirius explains and looks down to play around with his clay too. You stay silent as you let him think and reach the conclusion on his own but you’re already so so proud of their intelligent displays, “…so it’s the same answer, it’s also from chemical energy…” he seems unsure from his tone but the minute he looks up to meet your eyes, the smile on your lips and the applause from you and Regulus has him beaming.

“My sons are so so clever! I’m very proud of you both!”

That was enough of that — you only remember so much from your younger science education — so you move on to teach them about hatching and being able to stick two pieces of clay together with a little bit of water in order to make a small box with no lid. Thankfully, that was the final thing you intended to teach them before letting them make their own creations.

“Now, you can make whatever you want with your clay. After this, I’ll bake them so they become solid, and then, we can paint them together. If you run out of clay, just ask and I’ll get you some more,” the two buzzed in their seats from the excitement and you were just as eager to let them loose with their creativity. “You can also make more than one thing but limit yourself to just two or three, please. Also make sure that whatever you make suits a function, it can be anything at all; you can even get some ideas from this muggle book on clay crafting,” you present them with the children’s clay craft book and place it where they can easily reach, “don’t mind getting the edges dirty, as long as the main text and pictures aren’t too muddied up by clay, it’s fine. It’s supposed to get used earnestly anyway,” they smile at your proactive reassurance but only Regulus goes for the clay book while Sirius goes about making his desired creation right away.

For a while, Sirius cannot decide what to actually make. His speediness into action makes his younger brother peer over at him anxiously quite a few times but his initial unease gradually fades when he realises his older brother keeps changing his mind, flattening a scarcely sculpted creation just as quickly as he begins a new one. You don’t want to interrupt their independent creative flows and get to work on something you’ve already planned to create, a modest gift for your darling boys.

Some time goes by in silence before you call for Kreacher to play one of the vinyls you managed to buy from a record shop when out on errands to muggle London. You had bought several along with the gramophone at the shop. When you first bought it home, the boys were eager to find out what it was and spent a lot of time happily winding it up so that you could all listen to the records together. It would have been preferable to get the electrical one but it would have been useless in the predominantly magic-operated house.

“Great choice, Kreacher,” you smile at the house elf who nods timidly by the gramophone and promptly disappears when he feels as though he is no longer needed. The Beatles’ Abbey Road album plays in the background as the soundtrack to your clay sculpting session for several songs-worth of minutes before you finally get up to independently ask the boys about what they had chosen to make. ‘Oh! Darling’ sings in the distant corner as you kneel beside Sirius and quietly ask about his creation and what its function would be. In a whisper, he replies without turning to look at you, far too focused on his creation to divert any significant attention from it.

“I’m making plant pots,” he begins, his pink tongue slightly poking out of the corner of his mouth, “for the cooking herbs you said you wanted to grow in the kitchen, but I’m also making one for Reggie since he says he wants to grow a plant in his room,” after his nonchalant explanation, your heart soars. It would be a fair assessment to say that Regulus has spoken to him about exploring gardening. You didn’t know your youngest wanted to grow a green thumb but it was a pleasant surprise — you’ll see about taking him to a muggle plant shop soon, you don’t quite trust wizarding plants in the household. A succulent or mini cactus would be a good choice.

Pressing a kiss onto Sirius’ cheek, you whisper a soft thank you and praise his thoughtfulness before moving on to Regulus. For a moment, the elder brother wishes he could grow out his hair so that you are less likely to notice his flushed cheeks and red-tipped ears. You also kneel by Regulus’ side to whisper the same questions about his creation.

“I’m making a little jewellery dish for your rings and necklaces and earrings, Mother. And I’m also going to make one for Siri since he’ll be getting the family ring when he’s older. Sirius’ one is going to be star-shaped because he’s named after the brightest star and yours is going to be heart-shaped because…well…” Regulus can’t finish his sentence as his blush floods his entire face with heat. But he doesn’t need to finish his explanation, he’s said all you needed to hear to coo over his thoughtfulness and press a kiss to his cheek also. They’re such sweet boys. That bitch Walburga was blessed to have them and yet she mistreated them so much, they didn’t deserve any of that. Tender love and care is what they truly deserve and that will be your sole mission and life’s purpose for this existence.

“What are you making, Mother?” Regulus asks unprompted when you finally sit back down by your humble creations again. The youngest’s question makes Sirius perk up and eye you with interest, his grey eyes flicking between you and the carefully shaped clay by your hands.

“I’m making little star-shaped pendants for my little star boys,” smiling at their flustered expressions, you elaborate further, “I’m going to poke a hole near the top point so I can thread it through a chain and you can wear it as a necklace or a bracelet — you can choose,” you show them one with a carved ’S’ on it, “this one is for Siri,” next you present the one with an ‘R’ on it, “and this one is for Reggie,” they beam in happiness at the getting such a personalised gift from you and continue their clay projects with new-found vigour.

It was relatively easy to create the small star pendants so, inspired by Regulus’ creations, you proceeded to craft minimalist ring bands, one each of you. Sirius’ you carved the same sort of archaic patterns as that of his wand, for Regulus, you did simple lines with an occasional dot and for yours, evenly placed mini daisies. At first, it was purely for making sure that Regulus didn’t feel left out from Sirius getting the family ring but, looking at your modest creations, your magnate mind begins to manifest an innovative idea you’re itching to begin. Your schedule is going to fill up very quickly and soon — there isn’t a chance that you’ll wait on this.

1st September 1971

Today couldn’t have crept up on you quickly enough. One minute you were settling into a cosy routine with your darling sons and now you were sending the eldest away for wizarding boarding school. It was happening too fast and your heart was constantly breaking from being torn between freely letting him go and childishly begging him to stay so that you could spend as much time with him as possible. Even the novelty of rushing onto platform 9¾ through the brick wall between platforms 9 and 10 couldn’t keep the tears from filling your eyes. However, your unhappiness and woe were quickly wiped away when Sirius expressed muted sadness at the idea that his father was too busy to see him off to Hogwarts. That morning, try as you might you couldn’t convince Orion to be there for his son. The git was lucky Sirius had interrupted your argument to express his acceptance and neutrality over the situation or else you would have clocked the pretentious asshole’s jaw. You would be surprised if the hypothetical punch landed hard enough to dislocate both of his temporomandibular joints. He would be eating through a tube if it weren’t for your little boy’s interruption but you’ll be sure to sink your teeth into your git of a husband as soon as you get home.

Regulus seems to be whispering something to his older brother as they share a hug of goodbye. There was plenty of time for Sirius to get onto the train - you made sure of that - and you promised to wave him off as the train left the station so none of you were in any rush to leave the other. You kindly smile down at their wholesome interaction, completely drawn in by their innocence and heartfelt brotherly love for each other. Their relationship was worth preserving and building up. You were once saddened by Sirius and Regulus’ torn apart brotherhood but now, you’ll be devastated if your sons ever broke their bond like in the movies and books. So distracted by your loveable sons’ endearing display, you miss the shocked looks you were receiving from fellow parents of other children who were also boarding to attend Hogwarts — they simply couldn’t believe it!

Everyone knew the matriarch of the Black family. However, the very picture of her now was not what was to be expected. Rumours of her cold and unsympathetic disposition appeared as slanderous lies when they took in your warm smile and fond stare, looking solely upon your two sons. It was well-known amongst the wizarding community that the famous Black family’s eldest son, Sirius Black, would begin attending Hogwarts this year. They expected to see a conceited and substantially reserved display of the family by the platform but not… not this! This is something for the papers! Had the matriarch of the most ancient and noble house of Black always looked this beautiful and kind? Surely not!… But their eyes weren’t being deceived, they were seeing the truth! Many gasped and openly stared, thankfully hushed down by the nosiness of the platform, whilst others didn’t know how to interpret the display and opted to avert their eyes.

Around his small wrist, Sirius keeps your clay star pendant around his wrist, which had been painted a deep black per his request while the ’S’ is marked with metallic silver paint. He has such good taste for aesthetics despite his young age. Every day there was something new to be proud of him for, no matter how little. You love being a mother!

“Oh darling, I’m going to miss you so so much. You must promise me that you’ll take care of yourself, don’t be scared about making friends,” you look him in the eye as you say so, combing your fingers through his hair and pushing away the curling locks from his forehead, “they’re going to love you just as much as I do,”

“Me too, Siri,” Regulus’ soft interjection brings out a mutual laugh from you and the eldest Black brother. Sirius brings Regulus into another hug that you are also brought into.

“And if they don’t like you then they can suffer having none of those mini pies I baked for you,” the two of you share a smirk and a wink. Sirius had requested some shelf-stable foods to bring such as his favourite chutney, jams and jerky, all homemade by you, especially for him. Of course, you didn’t say no. You even suggested bringing along something yummy for the train ride despite already providing him an allowance to spend on the trolley.

“Regulus and I will write to you as often as we can so be on the lookout for our letters, okay?” he nods, eyes already sparkling from the anticipation and thought of receiving mail by owl solely for him. A letter addressed only to him, with his name on the envelope, and meant only for him to read — his feverish anticipation was to be expected. He couldn’t wait for his first letter.

“I’ll write back just as much, promise!”

“Good because if you don’t,” you scold playfully as Sirius bites back a cheeky giggle, “I’ll go to Hogwarts and demand a written letter back myself, I’ll bring Reggie with me too so that’s twice the heat you’ll be under young man, don’t forget,”

“Never,” Sirius whispers as he throws himself into your embrace once more. There’s never going to be enough hugging to satiate your aching heart, nor squash the sadness of watching your baby grow up too fast but, knowing the mischief and fun he’ll be getting up to, makes you almost giddy with excitement. You want to read all about it in his letters home!

As much as you’d like to have said your farewells for longer, Sirius still needed to board and needed help with his luggage. Thankfully there were plenty of staff to help him lug it all around, which you smiled gratefully for. They seemed stunned by your courtesy but tipped their caps in acknowledgement and whispered a quick ‘thanks’ in return, regardless.

Stepping back from the platform with Regulus at your side, the two of you try to follow Sirius along the train compartments as closely as you can until you finally see him settling into a box by himself. You wonder if he’ll be meeting his fellow marauders soon — god! You wish you could see them as adorable 11-year-old babies like your Sirius right now.

Regulus toddles up to be closer to the window, opposed to the thought of separating from his brother and tries to hold one last conversation with Sirius as everyone waits for the train to depart. To hear him clearer, Sirius reaches up to open the window. Smiling at the pair fondly, you almost miss a heart-stopping sight. From your left peripheral, you spot an untameable mess of dark hair and round hazel eyes sparkling in jubilation, framed with an adorable pair of round glasses — you barely withhold your gasp of surprise. But all too soon, from your right, you glimpse a head of neatly trimmed but slightly grown-out brown hair, belonging to a rather spindly boy swamped under a cosy autumn-brown jumper. On his softly curving jaw is a light, nicking scar and when he turns his head ever so slightly, you see another more prominent scar marked across the pudge of his cheek. You’ve seen a wild, baby-ish James Potter and Remus Lupin. Almost all of the marauders were spotted getting onto the Hogwarts Express but do you even want to see the final member? No! Of course not! It was then that you noticed sandy-blonde hair weaving through the crowds of parents wishing their children farewell – a last-minute attempt at getting onto the train on time. Behind him, he is followed by a similarly blonde woman, his mother. Goodness, both share such startling similarities, both have curved edges to their silhouette, pink cheeks and sea-blue eyes. They looked like an adorable pair and you had to admit that Peter’s portly appearance made him incredibly endearing for his age. They looked like an ordinary, harmless mother-son pair, much like you and your boys…

A whistle pierces through the station and snaps you out of your daze. Finally turning back to your Sirius, your eyes tear up again for the umpteenth time that day. Regulus had rushed back to your side, clinging onto the long, black skirt of your dress with one hand as he used the other to wave goodbye. Silently, you mouth an ‘I love you’. He isn’t as surprised as when you whispered the same affection to him whilst still on the platform so he was able to mouth it back — ‘I love you too, Mother,’ — your heart pinches. Picking Regulus up, you sit him on the curve of your hip and wave Sirius off together. You see the slight shimmer of tears in Sirius’ eyes too just before the train moves too far and takes Sirius away with it.

You miss him already.

SERIES M.LIST | NEXT. 05 : ... →

A/N : surprise! goodness, this was a really big chapter hehe~ i hope you darlings enjoyed the read! i also would like to gently remind everyone that i am no longer doing taglists but to be notified whenever i post something, please follow and turn on notifications for reblog side account: @thekqipond where i will be reblogging every new fic as soon as i post it! the reason i was able to post this chapter a month ahead of my official come-back in October was to test my taglist solution and the order of chapters i want to post by Christmas ;) i hope you enjoy!

please like, comment and reblog to show your support, i'd really appreciate it! property of kquil ; all written content is mine and no one else's unless stated otherwise ; do not steal, plagiarise, modify or translate to other sites

#marauders #marauders fic #marauders era #marauders era fix it fic #the marauders era #mother reader #sirius black #regulus black #the marauders #divorcing orion black #dob : series

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the-bed-gremlins-reading-list · 29 days

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My Marriage to the Cursed Royal

Demo: Twine on Itch.io Last Update: 9/6/2024

Rating: 18+

Synopsis

When you meet with an unfortunate accident in the real world you find yourself cast into the role of the younger Medulloi sibling. Your elder brother is the Duke of Ausones, a small and recent addition to the Nasennii Empire.

For three hundred years the Imperial war machine has fueled the Nasennii expansionism across the continent of Fantasia. A war machine that has been unable to advance across the northern expanses that make up Ithel.

Imperial superstition maintains that it is unlucky for a commander to remain unwed - so when the Royal Bastard, the Emperor's cursed child, makes little headway in the campaign a marriage in absentia is arranged.

A marriage to you.

It's a new world with a spouse you have never met.

Oh, except one itty-bitty thing - Fantasia Crown Wars is one of the most popular media franchises to exist. (Oh, and a savvy fan knows that Auberon Medulloi's younger sibling died.)

Characters

Auberon Medulloi - The Duke of Blood

Your new half-brother. He's famous among fans for his brutality as a military commander and the cold calculus with which he approaches his alliances when he's introduced during the third book of the main series. You know him as your warm, slightly fussy elder half-brother who frets himself silly over taking care of your family's lands and makes you sweets when you feel sad. He's joined you in the Imperial Capital to insure that you're safe and have all the support you could possibly stand. In the books he becomes the most feared leader of a rebellion against the Nassenian throne. One that was destroyed by your spouse and leads to Auberon's eventual execution.

Lucius/Lucia Nasennia(us) - Your Spouse, the Cursed Royal (RO)

They are the emperor's eldest child, the illegitimate one whom misfortune follows like an old friend. They were born in the dead of a moonless night and gifted with the ice magic of Ithel through their mother's veins. The priesthood has sworn should they ever take the throne it will be the end of the Nasennian Empire. And yet they are among the most gifted commanders of the age, it is on them victory against Ithel and peace among the conquered lands depend. The books described them as cold and calculating. The blockbuster movie saw them behead their younger brother after arranging the death of their father. They were also supposed to be unwed.

Marcus Nasennius - The Golden Prince (RO)

The third child of the emperor and the heir to the throne after the death of their sister. Marcus has always been the charmer of the royal family, the one for whom life was easy and joyful. He's said to have been blessed by the Empire's gods - born on a bright summer day in the heat of noon, and gifted with command of light magic he has always been placed in competition with his elder brother by the court, but they were friends once. Marcus was one of the main characters of the books - and the classic prince charming had always quite popular. So popular, in fact, that after his tragic demise in the movie he was brought back to life in the television show.

Rossella Catilia - The Red Mage (RO)

The Catilia family has stood behind and beside the throne of Nasennia since the War of Sparks founded the nascent Empire. They are wealthy and powerful and Rossella is the same age as Prince Marcus. She was brought to court at a young age and raised with the expectation that she would be among those considered as his match. A marriage she's openly appalled by due to her close friendship - and lack of romantic feelings for both the royal brothers. Still she's publicly considered the picture of what an Imperial Lady should strive for. Like many Imperial nobles she has some talent as a mage with a reputation as a skilled healer. In the books Rossella played the part of peacemaker between the brothers until her sudden foreign marriage removed her from the picture during TFCW's brief period as a graphic novel. (A move her fans hated almost as much as the scarlet color her hair was colored with on those pages.)

Caerwyn - The Assassin from Ithel (RO)

Bright, obnoxious, oh, and a vampire. This Ithellen assassin was meant to be your death. You're still not sure what changed his mind, nor why he's decided to serve you as your personal "spy-slash-assassin-slash-bodyguard-slash-gossip-gatherer". Caerwyn's appeared in the plot far earlier than he should have based on the books, where he only emerges out from the shadows after Ithel's defeat. Following the demise of his homeland he had come to serve your brother, Auberon. Caerwyn is among those that is supposed to be killed by your spouse, having dramatically sacrificed himself to ensure the escape of the rebel army and leading to that arc lasting much longer than anyone expected it would.

Rune Leleux - The Knight? (RO)

Like the assassin Caerwyn, Rune Leleux has shown up in the story far earlier than they should have. In fact you have a strong suspicion that the next book that was suppose to release in a month will reveal that the person introduced as a wandering bounty hunter and oath-breaking knight stole the real Leleux's identity. The Rune Leleux you know serves as your brother's faithful knight and right hand. They've been your friend since you were children. You can't see how the soft-spoken, if sometimes sarcastic, warrior who helps you live in Fantasia could possibly be the brutal and heavily scarred murderer draped in wolf skin that the Bastard Royal hires to help assassinate the emperor and sabotage the capital's defenses.

Robin Watcher - The Bard (RO)

This sweet natured bard is a minor character in the canon - like your new identity is. Or at least, she must be, because you definitely can't remember her from anywhere. (Maybe she was one of those unnamed extra in that one made-for-tv movie that everyone prefers to forget exists?) Whoever this bard is she always seems to know quite a bit about whoever happens to be around - and, well, she's rather curious about you. (In more ways than one.) Also, no one seems to know who she is or where she came from, just that she's great with instruments and has a very pretty voice.

WIP Warning: Any information contained in this post is subject to change as the project develops. The same goes for information posts on this blog.

#my marriage to the cursed royal #Fantasia Crown Wars IF #interactive fiction #pinned post

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petertingle-yipyip · 1 month

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STRANGER - KAZ BREKKER

//tags: @beekeepingageissome // an: i really hope i can pull this off. i anticipate this being 2-3 parts. right now, we’re set before the Ice Court. also i’m picturing danielle rose russell as the character. lmk if we want this as an OC or reader// next part

Pairing: kaz x rollins!reader (enemies to lovers) [no Y/N used yet]

Word Count: 5,892

Summary: Her father’s action led to the death of her only two childhood friends, Kaz and Jordie Rietveld. Only Kaz returned as the infamous Dirtyhands. Creating her own gang in the shadows, she considers allying with the Bastard of the Barrel, only it goes about as well as anything could with Brekker.

It all seemed so far away, the first time you had met Kaz and his brother. Years ago that seemed to be another life. And maybe it was. You had left your father not long after that. When you heard that Jordie and Kaz - or at least two boys that fit their descriptions and matched your sketches - were picked up during the Queen Lady’s Plague collections, your stomach had pitched.

You were only a child, the same age as Kaz give or take a few months, and his brother seemed a good boy. They ate dinner with your family, played with you and your dog. You and Kaz had come up with games late into the night until Jordie took him home.

And then suddenly, you and your family were out of the house. You didn’t understand but you didn’t question it. You never saw the boys again but it was easy enough to hear of who had died of the sickness and who hadn’t. And it didn’t take long to find out how.

Your father used an alias and rolled the boys for their money. They had nowhere to go except the streets and it killed them.

Well, one of them.

Kaz had managed to pull through, but the boy that came back wasn’t the boy you knew. He had changed and you weren’t sure if you had expected him to be the same. When you left your father, you had seen him around the Barrel. You considered talking to him but the unbridled anger in his eyes kept you at bay. Instead, you decided to bide your time. Build your own empire. And in time, you would offer Kaz a deal and take down your father together.

Leaving Jordie and Kaz to die killed not only one of the Rietveld brothers, but it killed you as well. You existed only in stories to him. Pekka Rollins’ only daughter, fled home as a young teen, building up a gang of her own.

You changed your hair, colored it a midnight shade of red, and cut bangs. You kept the rest braided and pinned. You wore a hooded cloak when you went out during the day. You never spoke your name in public. But you did help yourself to your father’s money.

Your money, technically, since it was placed into an account in your name. You withdrew from it once a month, never letting the balance fall beneath the initial. It filled the coffer of your growing gang, choosing a snake as your branding. Your father had Dime Lions. Kaz had the Dregs. You had your snakes, though a fitting name never came to you.

You were on your way to attempt a meeting with the Dregs’ Heartrender, Nina Zenik. She held occupancy at the White Rose, and she was not an easy woman to schedule with. Nor was she cheap. You were leaving the bank, your latest withdrawal under your cloak, when you saw him.

You’d seen him in passing over the years, heard all the stories of what he’d become. Dirtyhands Kaz Brekker. The Bastard of the Barrel. Some said he was a demon. Some called him a monster, a wretched boy with only bones for fingers. He was Death, the Reaper who sent his Wraith without remorse.

You had to remind yourself to breath when a hand clasped your shoulder.

You spun quickly and a hand went to the small knife in the sheath sewn to the inside of the collar.

“Boss has been looking for you.” A familiar voice said. You didn’t know his name, but the voice was one from your childhood. You didn’t miss the lion tattooed on his forearm. “He’ll be happy to see who’s been taking his money.”

You narrowed your eyes but remained quiet. You yanked your knife free and sliced the forearm of the hand touching you, cutting right through the Lion. Decapitating it. You would’ve stayed and admired your handiwork had you not been on a mission.

So you ran.

You worked through the busy crowd until you somehow ended up at Kaz’s side.

“I need your help.” You stepped in front of him. You hadn’t even realized it was him until you stood face to face.

You couldn’t have picked anyone else?

“You’ve come to the wrong person.” He shook his head.

“It’s one of Pekka Rollins’ men.” You tried urgently. “They’re looking for his daughter.”

That got his attention but he tried not to show it. It flashed across his face for a split second, a momentary sliver of the young boy you knew.

“Isn’t she dead?” He said flatly, as if it was a fact. “I sure hope so.”

“She’s not.” You said sharply and dared a glanced behind him. Your father’s goon was making his way through the crowd a few feet away. “But I’m guessing you’ll kill her if you get the chance.”

“In front of her father, yes. Maybe slice her open from her sternum and watch her heart stop beating.” He nodded, tapping the beak of his crow against the base of your throat, then paused to study your face. Your heart sped up and under your cloak, the grip on your knife grew tighter in an effort to not bat his cane away. It was already stained with the blood of your pursuer, and you weren’t above adding Kaz’s if he recognized you, but you were praying that Sankta Alina would help you avoid it. Never one for religion, but her story had always stuck with you. “What do you know about her?”

You lifted your chin slightly. “Why should I tell you anything?”

He leaned down slightly and you reflexively stepped back. “You came to me, remember? Unless you’d like me to leave you here for your friend back there.”

You sneered slightly before answering. “She’s alive, in the Barrel. She’s been building her own gang, using her father’s money for it.”

Kaz’s head cocked in interest.

“He has an account open for her and puts money in every week. She empties it every month or so.”

“A fool’s errand.”

“Excuse me?”

“Leaves a paper trail, on both sides… Why is she still here?”

“Why do you think? She wants to get rid of her father.”

“Why?”

You checked again and the Dime Lion was closing in. You shifted on your feet and Kaz took a step to the side, turning himself slightly to block you from view. You dropped your head and blocked your face with your hand as the man passed, hoping the scene looked like a blushing girl hiding her embarrassment. You sighed with relief and almost thanked Kaz.

He didn’t do it for you. You’re useful to him now is all.

“How do you know this?” Kaz asked after watching the Dime Lion for a few more seconds.

You replaced your knife and unbuttoned your cloak to pull your collar and show the snake tattoo winding across your shoulder. You fixed your clothing back to position and Kaz studied you silently.

“I’m sure we’ll meet again soon, Brekker.” You nodded.

He stood dumbfounded as you continued on. It took only a moment before the shock wore off. Kaz watched you go, his confusion burning to anger. He was mad that you had so much information yet gave so little. He was mad that you knew him, yet he knew nothing about you.

But what infuriated him most was that you were vaguely familiar. That he felt some old reminder of who he used to be, when he was just a boy with his brother. He also thought of Jordie with a shudder. He hated that you had some memory connected to his brother and he swore that he would get his answers, even if he had to cut them out of you.

When you were finally able to get in with Nina, it was a relief. She went into what seemed like a rehearsed spiel while you undid your cloak and draped it across your lap as you sat. You reached into your boot and pulled out the specific pile that was intended for her. You dropped it on the table and it silenced her.

“I didn’t come for the Heartrender, Ms. Zenik. I need the Dreg.” You began calmly.

“The Dregs?” She tugged her sleeve uncomfortably. “What is this, a test from Brekker?”

“Not at all. I just ask that you deliver a few things to Kaz.”

“A delivery?” She laughed. “Drop it in the Post like every other lovesick girl that thinks they can fix him and move on, Dear.”

“He has a fan club?” Your brow quirked. You knew it was a joke but you wouldn’t be surprised if there was some group of girls that were fawning over Kaz. He was very pretty after all. “This isn’t a declaration of love or a marriage proposal. More of a… heads-up.”

“If this is a threat-“ Her hand raised and quickly lifted your own in defeat.

“I’d rather try my luck against his Wraith than face you.” You admitted. “I’d like you to hear me out, Nina. Please, you can turn me away and keep the money after. I’m sure every cent helps towards your Fjerdan project.”

Hesitantly, she lowered her hand

You flipped your cloak and withdrew the small envelope from the main pocket. You held it out to her and waited until she opened it before you spoke.

“All I ask is that you get these to Brekker. He’ll know what they mean.” You said calmly, though your heart was racing. You wondered if she could tell.

“Drawings?” She looked up from the papers to you.

“She’s quite proud of those.” You smiled slightly.

It was a small collection of portrait sketches. A few of Kaz as a kid, one of Jordie and Kaz, and a few of Kaz in recent times.

“There should be something else.” You nodded and she shook the ring out of the envelope.

“Hmm, are you sure this isn’t a proposal?” She joked.

She examined it carefully, turning it at different angles and holding it close to her face. She slipped it on her own finger - it was so small, it barely fit her pinky - and your jaw tightened.

“Who is this she you mentioned?” She asked, looking back to you.

“He’ll know.”

“I could just keep this ring, you know. It’s quite adorable.”

“You could.” You agreed. “But that’s a risk she was aware of. Truthfully, I didn’t think you’d care much for a child’s keepsake ring. Besides, it was either you or the sharpshooter, and I’m sure Jesper Fahey would’ve found some parlor that’d give him a line of credit for it.”

“It’s Grisha made, isn’t it?”

You rubbed the fabric of your cloak between your fingers. That had cost you quite a pretty penny. “Yes.”

“Must be a very well off child.”

“She was.”

“Merchant’s daughter?”

“Not quite.”

She quickly grew tired of your avoidant answers. “So what happens if Kaz gets all this?”

“He can do what he wishes with the papers. Those are only a part of a collection that needs to be downsized regardless, but the ring is what’s important… She’ll come for it when she’s ready.”

“She plans on waltzing up to Kaz and demanding the ring?”

“No.” You smiled. “She’ll simply take it back, almost like a placeholder.”

“She’s mad if she thinks she can rob Kaz Brekker” Nina laughed, and you had to admit the sound was rather infectious. “But I’d love to see her try.”

“Can I trust you with this, Ms. Zenik?”

She mulled it over and had to tighten your hands into fists around the fabric of your cloak when you saw your ring was still on her finger. You knew you couldn’t take it back. Not only because it was part of your plan, but because she’d stop your heart as soon as you stood.

“I will, but only because I'd like to see how this’ll play out.” She nodded. “But what about the Wraith?”

You stood and fastened your cloak into place over your shoulders.

“He’ll send her for you and whoever sent these.” She warned.

“Trust. She expects as much.” You added over your shoulder as you left the room.

It took a few days but the unmistakable feeling of being watched from the shadows seized you as you were returning to your small dwelling. You ducked down a different alley, weaving your way through crowded passageways until you finally got to an empty, secluded area. Bold to lure the Wraith deeper into darkness, but you couldn’t risk anyone else hearing your words.

“I’m surprised he waited so long.” You said flatly and lowered your hood. To anyone else, you were talking to yourself. But soon after, her dark clad figure came from the shadows and you faced her bravely. “Hello, Wraith.”

She held up her hand and your ring tumbled out, tied around a string attached to her wrist. You stared at the small piece of jewelry for a moment and the chain around your neck you usually kept it on felt too light. You missed the light weight against your chest, the way it would bounce off your bones when you ran or trained.

“Ah.” You forced a smile. “I see Nina made good on our deal. I should thank her.”

“What business do you have with Kaz?” She finally spoke and her voice was level, void of any sort of emotional cue. You had to give it to Kaz. He trained his Dregs well.

“What business does he have with Pekka Rollins?” You countered. You knew it all, every minute detail, but you wondered what he had told her.

“Nina said that you work for someone else.” She changed the subject, wanting control of the interrogation. “An unnamed girl with Grisha connections.”

“Hmm.” You shrugged. “What did Brekker tell you when he sent you after me?”

“That you work for Pekka Rollins’ daughter.”

You tilted your head side to side in thought. “I suppose, in a way they’re both correct.” You conceded and flicked your cloak over your shoulder. You watched her hand fly to the knives at her ribs and you smiled innocently. You shifted your shirt collar and tilted your head away, waiting for her to see your tattoo. She squinted into the darkness but her hand slowly fell away. “I’d like to live long enough for the reunion, Inej.”

Her eyes went wide and she took a step back. You fixed your cloak over your shoulder and held out your empty palms.

“Yes, I know quite a bit about Brekker’s favorite Crows.” You said simply, keeping all malice out of your words. “Nina Zenik, the Heartrender at the White Rose with a Fjerdan friend out at Hellgate. Jesper Fahey, remarkable Zemeni sharpshooter with a tendency to wring out his coffers across the Barrel. You, Inej Ghafa, formerly Tante Heleen’s Lynx turned ghost story, utilizing those Suli acrobatics. Then there’s the Fjerdan himself that Brekker keeps tabs on, and the new one, the young demo expert.”

Wylan Van Eck - though he had an alias of his own - but you didn’t dare to say that. You wondered if Wylan would recognize you, but you had only seen him in passing years ago. You weren’t sure he knew that much about the Barrel in general. But given the fact that Kaz didn’t recognize you, you doubted Wylan would when you thought about it.

“How long have you been watching us?” She asked, squaring her shoulders and tucking the ring away. You were sad to see it go.

“Off and on.” You shrugged. “Truthfully, I just needed to establish a pattern before I could get that to him… He did get it, didn’t he?”

Her head cocked and you knew she heard something in your voice. Hope, or desperation maybe, and you cursed yourself for it.

“No.” She said smugly. “Nina delivered it to me.”

“Then I assume you have the same motives as she did, interest in what’s happening here.” You realized. “Tell me, Wraith. Has Kaz ordered my death yet, or am I still a target?”

“I believe the word he used was investment.”

“Investment… You know you won’t get anything from me. You’ll go and report back to Kaz with how much I know. If you two haven’t already, you’ll go over the ‘paper trail’ of her account and see it’s been tapped out, which’ll only serve as proof to what I’ve said so far. I’ll wander the Barrel, wasting nights at a gambling table while I bat my lashes to use someone else’s money or I’ll sample the menageries to pass the time. You or Brekker will get restless and pause your pursuit. And when none of you are looking, I’ll go back and you won’t see me again unless I want you to.”

You recognized a flash of silver and realized she drew a knife. You hadn’t even seen her hand move but you hid your shock by lifting your chin defiantly. You would not yield, not cower from Inej. You folded your hands in front of you, under your cloak so you could reach your pistol.

“I don’t want a fight, Inej.” You said honestly.

“I don’t intend there to be much of one.” She countered smoothly and the blade shifted in her hand. “I come as a warning. Keep her snakes away from us.” She said, adding extra venom into your gang’s patron.

“Us?” You instigated. “You bear no Dreg tattoo, Wraith. How can I be sure you’re truly aligned with them?”

“Doubt be again and find out.”

“We don’t want a war.” You reasoned.

“It doesn’t matter what you want. You and your shadow boss will not back the Dregs into a corner. Brekker won’t he-“

“I don’t fear Kaz Brekker.” You said firmly.

“Then you’re more of a fool than he thinks.” She snapped. She glanced around as if someone was listening, but no one in Ketterdam dared to watch the confrontations in the alleys. “Pride will be your downfall before he makes a move.”

“He wants to dismantle everything Pekka Rollins has.” You reasoned. You weren’t why you wanted so badly to convince Inej that you weren’t Kaz’s enemy, but when you thought about it, you knew he’d see you that way regardless. You worked for Pekka Rollins’ daughter. Actually, you were Rollins’ daughter. You’d be dead the second he found out. “She wants her father’s empire to burn as well. Why fight?”

“Do not come to the Dregs again, snake.”

“Is that a threat?” Your brows raised.

She smiled and her hand was a blur as the knife flew at you. You barely hid behind your cloak in time. You felt the blunt force of the knife against your cheek, thanking the Saints, before the blade clattered to the floor. You peaked out and another came, skating across the back of your hand. You yelped and clutched the wound to your chest.

Before you could react, she was on you. She had you by your cloak and slammed you against the nearest wall. You felt the distinct tip of a blade under your chin and you were quick to pull your own. You pressed it against her abdomen, grabbing her other arm to keep her close. You ignored the burn of the cut and righted your grip.

“The thing with snakes-“ You began and smiled. “We can wait. Bide our time until conditions fit us. We won’t back the Dregs into a corner, but you won’t flush us out either.”

Her eyes darted between yours as she tried to read your expression. Or maybe she wanted to remember your features. Either way, you acted. You slammed your head forward and collided with hers. She stumbled back and her blade fell away. You flicked your cloak to add to her disorientation before you kicked at her chest to knock her down.

Then you ran.

It took a few more days before you saw either of them again. You had seen a Healer in that time, someone who wouldn’t give their name or let you look directly at them. Why they were in hiding you didn’t know or ask. They repaired your hand and that was all you needed.

You were wandering the streets when you saw her silhouette in the alley you passed. Moments later, she was on the rooftops above you, following. You dared a glance but as soon as your eyes turned that way, she disappeared. You knew she wanted you to follow so you sighed to yourself, checked that no one else was looking - of course they weren’t - and ducked down the alley.

You went as deep as you dared but there was no one else, only the faint tap of a cane behind you. You nodded slightly and put your hands up in surrender. You flipped down your hood and turned, facing Kaz straight on.

“We’ve got to stop meeting like this.” You began innocently, though you added a bit of roughness to your voice. If Kaz was going to recognize you, you weren’t going to make it easy for him.

A soft thud of landing behind you but you kept your focus forward.

“Will you come quietly?” Kaz spoke simply, as if it was obvious you were beaten. You quirked a brow and considered how the fight would go if you chose it. One of them you could take, but winning against both of them wasn’t likely.

“You say that like there’s a choice.” You sighed. “I know when I’m out-gunned, Dirtyhands.”

You slipped your fingers under the opposite sleeve and slid the hidden retractable blade strapped to your wrist out. You tossed the cuff to Kaz and he caught it with the crow’s beak of his cane. While he examined the small device, you held your pistol to Inej, who took it without a word. You tapped the toe of one boot on the ground, then the other, and felt the blade shifting against your leg. Glancing up, Kaz didn’t seem to notice the movement but the gentle kick to shin told you Inej did. With a huff, you pulled it out and handed it over. All you were left with was the small blade at the sheath under your cloak’s collar, but you wouldn’t give that up.

Only an idiot gets taken hostage by the two most lethal Dregs unarmed.

“Nice to see you again, Wraith.” You said teasingly. “Although this isn’t much of a fair fight, is it?”

You put your hands up again and offered Kaz a sarcastic expression. He was stone faced as usual, though he nodded to Inej over your shoulder. Your brows furrowed and as you turned, the side of your head was slammed into the nearest wall.

You woke up tied to a chair in an office/bedroom with an empty chair across from you, Kaz’s cane resting against the seat. Your head was pounding and you could feel your pulse beating in the new wound, growing as the room came into better focus. Your cloak was thrown across the desk, your wrists tied tightly to the back of the chair with scratchy ropes, your ankles were tied a lot looser. You shifted in the chair to test the integrity and wondered how hard you’d have to fall for it to break.

“About time.” He complained from somewhere behind you.

“Oh, I’m sorry. Do your usual hostages regain consciousness sooner?” You spat back, craning your neck to find him. “Should’ve brought your Heartrender if you were that impatient.”

Kaz was making it very hard to try for an alliance with him. At that moment, you wanted to kick his pretty teeth in.

“You’re not worth that much trouble.” He waved you off and you saw the infamous black gloves.

“Enough trouble for you to come and get me. What made that decision for you? Was it when Inej couldn’t do it herself?”

“Are you certain she wanted to?”

“Could’ve fooled me, but according to her, I’m a fool anyways.” You shrugged as best you could. “What's with the gloves?”

His leather-clad hands tightened into fists and he looked down at them for a moment, contemplating. You wondered what was going through his head, but you’d never know. His expression was as blank as ever and you cursed his self-control.

“You didn't wear them before.” You continued. “When you were a boy.”

“You know quite a lot, Dear.” He said simply and made his way in front of you. He moved his cane and sat, stretching his legs in front of him.

“Been around a while.”

“Who are you?” He leaned in a bit in interest. You were something new, something potentially dangerous, and he wanted to learn everything he could about you.

“A stranger that knows so much about you, Kaz Rietveld.”

His eyes narrowed and shifted the cane between his hands. You eyed it carefully, knowing the dangers that object held especially in Kaz’s hands. It could break bones, numb limbs, slice through skin. You’d be lucky if he didn’t use it on you, but the daunting silhouette of the crow’s head didn’t stop you from talking.

“You and Jordie… Her drawings are the spitting ima-“

The sharp beak of his crow topper sliced down your cheekbone and cut your words short. Your head snapped to the side and you cried out slightly, fresh blood slowly dripping down your cheek. You stared back at him angrily, new and sudden rage burning in your stomach as he stood over you.

“You don’t get to say that name.” He said viciously. The rage in his eyes made you worry he’d kill you there. “What did she tell you?”

“You can beat me all you like.” You said firmly. “I won’t break.”

“Then you’ll die.”

He pulled a knife and you shifted in your seat, pushing back as far as you could. One of his covered hands landed on your shoulder while the other pressed the blade to your throat. Your eyes darted in a panic and you noticed the silver chain around his neck.

“The ring.” You breathed and the knife froze. “You have the ring. You know she’s out there.”

“Oh, I don’t doubt that.” He pulled the blade, causing you to wince, and you felt a thin stream of blood from your neck. He took up his cane with the other hand and tapped it against the floor, punctuating his words. “I do, however, doubt you’re as steadfast as you claim.”

“It doesn’t matter.” You shook your head. “I’ll die before I give up anything on my snakes. You think I don’t know what you do to people you don’t like? I’ve heard all the stories, Dirtyhands.” You laughed. “I wouldn’t risk their lives just to save myself.”

The cold crow’s head came under your chin and forced your attention to him.

“Your snakes?” His head cocked and your eyes went wide with panic for a moment. Leave it to Kaz to pick up on your one rhetoric mistake.

“I serve as her lieutenant. The snakes are as much mine as hers.” You covered, but he didn’t seem convinced as you jerked your head away. “Are the Dregs not as much yours as they are Haskell’s?”

“The Dregs follow me.” He said firmly, an air of leadership and confidence around him. If you didn’t have a gang already, you would’ve asked him to take you in as well. “This will go one of two ways. You answer my questions and you can burrow back into whatever hole you and Rollins’ pathetic daughter are hiding in with minimal injury.”

You spat at his feet. He swung the cane at your ribs. You wheezed as the air left one of your lungs.

“Or I can flay you piece by piece until you’re unrecognizable, covered in tears and your own blood, and I still get what I need.”

“You’ll get nothing from me.” You rasped and shook your head.

“Or…” He trailed off, wagging his finger as if a new idea came to him. “I can simply keep you here, wait until she finally shows herself and then drag her kicking and screaming to her father’s doorstep.”

“And do what?” You dared to ask, though you had a feeling you knew the answer. “He won’t care. He gave up on her years ago.”

“If that were true, he wouldn’t have an account for her.” Kaz shook his head. “Yes, I looked into it and, as I mentioned, the paper trail was easy enough to pick up. But I must admit, the trail to you was quite the dead-end. Well done.”

“He’ll laugh in your face if you bring her to him.” You continued, but the air you breathed left the faint taste of blood in your mouth. “She ran out on him. You think he’d want to see her again?”

“Oh, I think he’s still hoping she’ll come home.”

The wicked look in his eyes told you all you needed.

“To protect his secrets, maybe. She knows every trick he has.”

“Secrets die with those who keep them.” Kaz mused as if it was his saying. “And the only ones worth keeping aren’t worth a life.”

“Oh, Saints.” You complained with your head dropped against the back of the chair, eyes cast upward. “You know no one is going to come for me, don’t you?”

Silence. Just the threatening tap of his cane on the floor.

“Her and I agreed that if either of us get caught by you or her father, we wouldn’t go looking for the other. It’s a good way to get us both killed so we sacrifice the other if push comes to shove.” You looked back at him. “And you’ve shoved.”

“No one is coming?” He asked. The question seemed innocent enough but the menacing way he spun his knife in his hand proved otherwise.

“Our secret dies with the other.”

“Meaning no one will hear your screams? You’ll cry out and plead. but no one will come… I almost feel sorry for you.”

“Hang on.” You tried and he pressed the knife to your collarbone, a few inches to the side of your snake tattoo. “I-“

“Giving in already?” He taunted.

You needed something to get the knife off of you, something to distract him. He didn’t seem all that interested in anything about your alleged leader. Maybe he knew all he needed about you on that front. Was there something you could ask him instead?

“She feels guilty.” You confessed suddenly. “About you. About Jordie.”

You flinched at the look he gave you.

“I don’t know who he is!” You lied quickly.

You hated that all your control, all your pose and power, fell away while you were strapped to the chair. You were helpless, at the mercy of the Bastard of the Barrel, the most notorious and merciless person in Ketterdam. Maybe you were out of your league.

“I’ve only heard the name… She says her father took everything and she wishes there was something she could’ve done. She wants to make things right.”

“Make things right?” He asked lowly before a rough, disbelieving chuckles left his lips. “Can she suddenly raise the dead? No, you see, she was a child. Just as I was. But breaking her in front of her father, taking the one thing he yearns for, now that just might ‘make things right’.”

“What happened to you?” You said desperately. “What changed?”

“The boy that girl told you about is dead.” Kaz explained carefully, as if saying those words took more effort than anything he’d ever done. “Kaz Rietveld is dead.”

“She doesn’t believe that.”

“What’s that old saying? Like calls to like? Believing that makes her more of a fool than you are… Where is she?”

“She’s in the Barrel.” You confessed carefully. The knife hit the ground but before you could feel any relief. a heavy fist connected with your jaw. Blood filled your mouth and you knew you but your tongue, hard.

“Tell me something I don’t already know.” He said, his voice holding a dangerous edge.

“No.” You managed through gritted teeth. “What will you do, hunt her? You’ll never find her.”

“What makes you think you haven’t led us to her already?”

Your mind raced. Had he or Inej seen you go to your most recent safe house? It was possible that he had been trailing you longer than you thought, but if that was the case, he’d know that there was no girl in the shadows leading the snakes. It was you.

It was a bluff.

“So string her up instead of me.” You sneered and shifted your feet, just able to brace your toes against the floor. “I tried to be civilized here, Brekker. But you know what I’ve learned?”

“Enlighten me.”

“You’re just a man. And all men can fall.”

His brows furrowed slightly and you threw yourself backwards. The chair hit the ground and broke with a loud crack. You got to your knees and were fiddling with the ropes that bound your wrists to the fragments of the chair when you had to drop to your back, the heavy crow’s head swinging past where you head would’ve been. You yelped and rolled to the side as it crashed into the floor in a high arc.

Finally, you freed your hands. However, the crow’s head landed against your same side again and the impact had you falling to your face. You coughed roughly and the ragged breathing and shooting pain had you fearing that your rib was broken.

With a whine, you climbed to a kneel.

Your eyes darted to your cloak before surveying for an escape route. You could go for the door but it was obvious and you knew the place would likely be crawling with Dregs. You weren’t getting out that way. Your only other option seemed to be the window.

You got to your feet and charged. You threw punches at Kaz, hardly any of them connecting. You growled slightly in annoyance at his ability to block your hits so you threw your elbow instead, smacking it to the side of his jaw. You followed it with a hard hook then a few body shots. You wanted to end it so you threw a hard kick for his head but he caught it.

He tilted his head in disappointment and you saw the blossoming red marks across his features. You watched his elbow lift, on a path to the side of your knee, and you reacted. You jumped and threw the other foot. It connected with his jaw and you both fell to the floor. You cried loudly and you landed on the rib.

You forced yourself up, ignored the dangerously threatening pain as you stood straight, and dashed for your cloak. Beneath it was the rest of your weaponry. You collected it in a hurry and climbed through the window.

“We’ll meet again, Kaz.” You warned, crouching in the windowsill. He had rolled to his back and you saw the cut your kick broke near his eyebrow. “Come for me before that, I’ll burn the Dregs to the ground.”

Then you were gone.

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