#we can win only if we will stop seeing each other as enemies

[majesticcorn2000]

you know i wish people talked about discrimination without framing another oppressed group as The Villain

for example, you can't defeat transmisogyny by being transandrophobic and vice versa. its focusing on something that isn't really related to the root of the problems. imagine being on the same boat that is being under attack of some sort of a giant steel ship and blaming your crewmates for your boat being damaged. that's how it looks like to me. pal, just look up

[ugh-yoongi]

hi. i would like to request seungcheol (obviously). all i request is enemies-to-lovers. you may do with this what you wish. i leave it up to you to decide exactly how you will ruin my life 😌

tysm for the request my beloved !! he is so enemies to lovers coded i had TEWWW many thoughts (and started three separate wips oops), but here we are. i hope u enjoy this !! can't wait to get the collab fics out of the way so i can torture u further with baseball dk. i picked dodgers hat!cheol just for u. ♡

— we need to talk

pairing: choi seungcheol x f. reader summary: sometimes the only way to win the game is to not play, but sometimes it's not a game at all—sometimes it's four years of emotional build-up with nowhere left to hide. genre: enemies (kinda) w benefits to lovers; frat/university au; smut, angst?, fluff rating: explicit. minors do not interact with this or any of my work. warnings: frat boys. gendered language and insults. swearing. mentions of drugs & drug use (vernon is literally a drug dealer 🤷🏻‍♀️) as well as alcohol. possessive, jealous seungcheol who is extremely down bad and kind of an asshole and would be toxic af irl but is fine in fanfiction probably. this is maybe more "people who used to fuck and started disliking each other along the way bc they can't figure out their feelings" to lovers than enemies. there are very slight, very meaningless mingyu x reader undertones here. jeonghan is a bastard. feelings you think are unrequited but alas! this got softer than i intended oops. smut warnings: seungcheol truly is a man driven to the brink of madness bc of pussy idk what to say. kissing. hair pulling. mentions of masturbation. the dynamics shift in this one a lot, but to be overly cautious i will say dom!cheol and slightly dom!reader undertones that are not implicitly stated or defined. seungcheol uses the term "whore" once, sorry. oral sex (f. receiving). pussy slapping. unprotected sex. if i missed any pls lmk. wordcount: 8k. no i do not know what a drabble is, leave me alone. author's note: title from the song of the same name by waterparks but this was actually brought to you by "i'll never stop" by nsync bc it's their best song and fit the vibes perfectly. anyway, i still do not love writing smut but i am insane over this man so whatever, we persevere. everyone go shower mj in lots of love bc she's the best and deserves it. also everyone say thank u @the-boy-meets-evil for looking over this for me. i did not look at this again after she beta'd it so any mistakes are of my own stupidity. <3

Seungcheol is incensed.

What in the fuck are you thinking, showing up here? Ignoring him, walking by him with nothing more than a brush to the elbow and that sultry, electric gaze? A pair of painted-on jeans and a sheer top?

Who the fuck had invited you?

He looks around the room, gaze heavy under his furrowed brow. Bass thumps in his ears, the music so loud he can feel it in his chest. Still, his feet stay planted on the floor, already sticky with spilled alcohol and god knows what else. He needs to find Vernon—just needs something to get through this very unexpected (and very unpleasant) surprise, take the edge off.

But he can’t see through the sea of people. They’re everywhere, occupying every inch of available space in the house, but he just needs a glimpse of that mop of cornflower blue hair. If he could just—

Instead, he sees a streak of white-blond in his peripheral vision. “Soonyoung!” he calls, grabbing the man by the arm. “Hey, have you seen Vernon?”

Soonyoung stares up at him with glassy, bloodshot eyes, his breath already stinking of alcohol as he shrugs and says, “Dunno, hyung. Think he’s upstairs.”

Fingers still wrapped around his bicep, Seungcheol heaves a sigh. “Go find Jeonghan. He’s on babysitting duty and you’re already fucked.”

“I’m fine,��� Soonyoung argues, slurred words giving him away immediately.

Seungcheol scoffs. “Bro, you can barely stand and you reek of shitty vodka. Go drink some water.”

As he sends Soonyoung away, he can feel eyes boring into him, tension wound tight in the center of his back that refuses to dissipate no matter how many times he rolls his shoulders. He turns slowly, already knowing exactly what he’ll find, but knowing does little to stop the hitch of breath as he takes you in.

And he hates it. Fuck, he hates the effect you have on him more than anything.

Hates that he’s still pining after you. Hates that all you have to do is look at him and he’s putty in your hands. Hates that you’re the first person he looks for in a room, the last person on his mind before he falls asleep. Hates you, hates that all of this is unreciprocated, because if Choi Seungcheol is anything, it’s proud. He’s rich, he’s good-looking, he’s pre-law, and the president of this fraternity, for fuck’s sake—he should not be hung up on a girl.

But he’d been doomed from the beginning. Ever since you’d been assigned to him as a challenge to overcome, an impossible task to conquer, he’d been helplessly, pathetically smitten with you.

And fuck if you didn’t know it, too.

So, it’s a game now. A lifetime’s worth of pining for Seungcheol all because his frat was misogynistic and refused to keep up with the times. They’d nodded in your direction and laughed at the confusion on his face, the knot between his brows. Seungcheol couldn’t figure out why his initiation was to fuck a girl, one his brothers wouldn’t even address by name, but when he’d approached you at a party and you’d immediately told him to go fuck himself, he’d figured it out pretty quick.

Call it determination, call it a stubborn streak that refused to quit, but the two of you soon came to a reluctant agreement: you would let Seungcheol lie to his frat, figuring he was attractive enough that people thinking you’d slept together wouldn’t be complete social suicide, and he’d owe you a favor you’d keep in your back pocket for as long as it took to cash in.

Which hadn’t taken long. The stress of finals that first year had gotten to all of you, and it wasn’t long before you were at his door looking for his drug-dealing roommate and a quick fuck.

That was the second time Seungcheol had been doomed to hopeless pining, because once he had you, he knew it’d be impossible to let you go.

Short of outright saying the words, he’d all but told you as much during some alcohol-induced brain shortage junior year. And, in turn, you’d all but laughed in his face.

Right.

Of course.

That was to be expected.

So, you’d continued your… well, whatever this is: quick fucks when both of you were bored or lonely or horny, usually under the influence of something illegal; a mutually tense but beneficial relationship for each of you, because you had been Seungcheol’s initiation and the initiation itself awarded him connections and opportunities. You got a back-up plan. A safe body and warm bed to retreat to when the need arose—one who clearly wanted it to be something more, but was, all things considered, fine with the current arrangement. Didn’t pressure you.

But, as was also to be expected, it was never going to be that simple when feelings got involved. When he started feeling slighted. When he wanted you so bad he ached with it sometimes and it was beneath you to care. Which is why he really, really needs to find Vernon. If he’s going to endure an entire party with you, he’s not going to do it sober.

He takes the steps two at a time, feet stumbling onto the landing as soon as he reaches it. Vernon’s door is the third on the left, and he can hear a separate, distinct bass line from the one booming downstairs that hums louder the closer he gets.

And Vernon knows. Of course he does, because he’s yanking his door open before Seungcheol has even raised a hand to knock, the stench of weed seeping out into the hallway, and all he needs is a quick look at Seungcheol before he pulls the door open wider and says, “Ladies and gentlemen, the President of the United States of America,” as if he’s speaking into a microphone. When Seungcheol doesn’t react, he awkwardly tacks on, “Hi, hyung. I’m assuming she’s here.”

Seungcheol nods, dumbly, and stands as awkwardly in the center of the room as someone who’s about to ask their roommate for drugs tends to be. “Yeah.” Shoves his hands in the pockets of his overpriced jeans so Vernon can’t see the sheen of sweat.

“You looking for somethin’ specific?” he asks, rifling through the top drawer of a tall dresser. “Like, is this an I’m about to fuck her the rest of the night visit or an I need something to help me forget she doesn’t actually like me visit?”

The words come like a reflex. “Fuck you,” he seethes. Vernon’s not wrong, per se, but he didn’t have to go and just… say it like that.

Vernon just shrugs, one side of his worn-out collar slipping down his shoulder as he does so, and Seungcheol can’t tell if he’s actually dressed for the party or not. “Gonna guess it’s the second one, then.”

Seungcheol scoffs. “Well, it’s not,” he insists, knowing damn well he should let it go, that he’s just digging himself a bigger hole, but the truth sits in the pit of his stomach like lead.

And, really, he knows he just needs to accept it. That little strand of hope hasn’t brought him anything but more pain—allowed him to delude himself into thinking it could be something more, something tangible—and it’s time to let it go.

You don’t want more.

You don’t want the label and the relationship.

You don’t want him.

He knows this, but it still tastes sour in his mouth. Still tastes like the chill of autumn when you’d first showed up at his door all that time ago. Tastes like all the blunts you’ve shared and the liquor from all the parties you’d snuck away in the middle of. Tastes like the sharp notes of your perfume, the ones that’d coat his tongue when he’d kiss down your neck—the same notes that stain his bedsheets.

Mostly, it’s the pitying look Vernon’s giving him that hurts the most. He’s above pity. Doesn’t need it, especially not from Vernon Chwe, but it hurts all the same to be on the receiving end of it.

“Give me whatever you’ve got.”

Vernon’s face quickly morphs into surprised concern. “Uh, I’m not sure that’s a good idea. I mean, I’ve got some pretty heavy shit here.”

Heat flares in his belly. The pity was bad enough—now he wants to be patronizing? “Then give me whatever the fuck you think I need,” he snaps. “I don’t care. I don’t have time for this shit.”

“Well, you definitely need to chill,” Vernon mumbles. “You want some dabs?”

“No. Something…” The word feels thick in his mouth. Stronger implies that Seungcheol does heavy drugs, and that’s not true. “Else,” he finally finishes.

Vernon sighs as he continues rifling through the drawer. “Your dad would fucking kill me if I gave you my real heavy shit, so…” He pauses, eyebrows raising in triumph as he finds what he was looking for: a small baggie filled halfway with some nondescript powder. “You want a bump?”

Maybe he should be ashamed at how quickly he agrees, at the urgency and greed with which he grabs the baggie from Vernon’s fingers, but he just needs something. Needs the distraction, the brain fog. He shoves it in his back pocket next to his wallet. “How much do I owe you?”

Vernon wrinkles his nose. “Nah. Consider that one a freebie. No offense, but you’re a real piece of shit when you’re like this.”

The implication only pisses him off more. Seungcheol is loaded—he can afford to pay his drug dealer, thank you very much—but he’s not like anything. “I’m sorry?”

True to his nature, Vernon barely shrugs. “I’ll put it on your tab, hyung,” he says in a way that implies he’s not at all going to do that and is only saying so to get the fraternity president off his back.

Jeonghan (23:12) Better come get your girl. Kim Mingyu’s dick looks like it’s halfway up her ass by now. Jeonghan (23:12) Uh oh! I think I just saw a testicle

Seungcheol stares down at his phone, hands trembling in anger. Of course it’s Mingyu. That pathetic loser has been taking up residence on the subs bench ever since you’d made out with him months ago in an admittedly successful attempt at payback. Seungcheol had hooked up with some downgrade at a party one time and you’d gone and made out with his friend. It was hardly a fair trade.

Seungcheol (23:14) Good for Mingyu, he can deal with her then Seungcheol (23:14) I’m busy Jeonghan (23:14) Doing what? Jerking off in the upstairs bathroom again? Jeonghan (23:15) Do you know what size condom he wears btw? Looks like I might need to fetch him one if you don’t want to take care of another man’s baby Jeonghan (23:16) Although, to be fair, you might want to sit this one out. He has way better bone structure than you. Might be a blessing in disguise Seungcheol (23:16) Fuck you Jeonghan (23:16) Better be nice to me, Choi Seungcheolie~ that might be the only fuck you get tonight

Seungcheol needs better friends. He needs a lot of things, really, but number one on his to-do list is to never let Jeonghan be on babysitting duty ever again. Somehow he’d forgotten how obnoxious Yoon Jeonghan is when he isn’t stoned and half-asleep on a couch somewhere.

For now, he just stomps down the hallway; locks himself in his room and doesn’t bother to turn on the light. He’s not going to be here long. Just enough time to do this line, change his t-shirt, and come up with a game plan, because he’s not going to let Mingyu even entertain the thought of being able to have you but he also can’t appear desperate. Not just to you, but to everyone else. Choi Seungcheol is not clingy, especially not over a girl.

Especially especially over a girl who doesn’t even want him like that.

But the longer he sits in the dark, the more trouble he has finding his resolve. Can’t bring himself to dig that baggie out of his pocket. Can’t drag his t-shirt over his head. Can’t bring himself to think about anything other than Mingyu’s hands all over you, and fuck, does that image drive him insane.

Does he touch you like Seungcheol does?

Does he coax those same jagged whimpers from your mouth like Seungcheol does?

Does his semi-hard cock feel as good pressed against you?

God, he’s so fucked. Utterly and completely fucked. And he wonders if this would be as bad if he’d just kept his mouth shut, took that secret to his grave instead of fooling himself into thinking it could be more. If it wouldn’t have devolved into… this. You’d always told him not to get attached, that sex was just sex and there was no need to ruin a good thing. But Seungcheol is a selfish man, always has been, and what if? is a dangerous question.

Jeonghan (23:36) Wow, you’re a fucking pussy. Stop hiding in your room like a little bitch. Seungcheol (23:36) Fuck off

He can’t go down there. Not because he’s a coward, but because he’s barely tethered to his sanity as it is. Something about you brings him out of his mind, makes him toss whatever good judgment he has left to the wind. Seungcheol is far too impulsive when it comes to you, reckless in ways that have all twenty years of his social training weeping in a corner; have alarm bells ringing in his brain. So, no, he can’t go downstairs right now because he knows he’ll do something stupid. Stick not only his foot but his entire lower body in it. He should’ve listened, yet here he is, dick pulled halfway out of his jeans because the thought of you alone gets him hard but his pride won’t let him jerk off to the image of anyone touching you that’s not him.

Forget whatever Jeonghan had called him. He’s a fucking fool. A moonstruck, delusional fool who’d tricked himself into thinking he could swim when he can barely tread water.

You (23:41) Something wrong?

Oh, here we fucking go, he thinks. Because this is Seungcheol’s game—one he’d perfected years ago, the one where he’s coy and chilly, never too eager, never committed. Just a little bit of a tease. Barely enough to keep them on the hook, a little needy; still enough to keep them coming back. But you’d taken one look at him all those years ago and had him pegged immediately. Figured out his game and learned the rules, used them against him. Now you watch him flounder with a smile on your face.

Seungcheol (23:42) Never knew you were so needy baby. First you show up uninvited and now youre missing me?

But just because there’s now a player two doesn’t mean he’s doomed to lose. He knows how you look when you’re on your knees for him. Knows how you sound when you’re begging to cum and stuttering out his name like you’re singing hymns. Knows how you look with your eyes rolled back after he’s fucked you dumb. Kim Mingyu doesn’t know shit.

Seungcheol knows he’s the only one fortunate enough to experience you like this.

And god does it kill him.

You (23:44) Don’t act stupid

A pleased exhale of laughter, an equally-smug smirk. Yeah, this is still Seungcheol’s game, the crown still sitting atop his head. You can let Mingyu grind his dick against you all you want, but Seungcheol is still the one you’re seeking out, pouting at the fact he hasn’t come to find you yet.

You (23:44) Mingyu invited me

Oh, you’re good—know just which buttons to press and how much pressure to use. Whatever smug expression Seungcheol had been wearing slides off his face immediately, tongue pressing into his cheek.

Seungcheol (23:46) And yet youre looking for me? You (23:47) Don’t have to look for you to know you’re upstairs sulking in your room because Jeonghan tattled on me like a fucking five year old Seungcheol (23:49) Maybe you should come up here then Seungcheol (23:49) Away from prying eyes

You don’t reply immediately. It’s just long enough for Seungcheol’s brain to conjure up something indecent—the way you’ll straddle him, the way his cock will feel pressed against the apex of your thighs; the goosebumps that’ll raise on his arms when you work your tongue along his neck, that spot near his collarbone you know he likes. His cock throbs against the confines of his jeans when he thinks about the devastated look on Mingyu’s face when you make up some excuse to get away from him, to traipse up the stairs and fall into Seungcheol’s bed, when he realizes he’s not going to have you.

You (23:56) It’d be pretty rude to leave my date, don’t you think? You (23:57) If you want me so bad, come down here and get me yourself

Seungcheol doesn’t play games; doesn’t compete because he has no competition. He’s always been given whatever he wants on a silver platter, no questions asked, so he’s wholly unprepared for this turn of events. What he knows he should do (respond to your text and tell you to fuck off, that you know where he is should you stop being a brat and change your mind) is not what he does (tucks his dick back in his jeans, finally throws on a clean t-shirt, and takes his time descending the stairs so he doesn’t look too eager), because logical thought gets tossed out the window entirely wherever you’re concerned.

“Ah, if it isn’t our resident pissbaby making his grand re-entrance.”

Seungcheol clenches his jaw for the nth time and glares. “Fuck off, Jeonghan.”

The man in question laughs—the annoying raspy one that grates on Seungcheol’s nerves—and hands over a cup of something brown and pungent. “Well, judging from your attitude, and the fact you’re barely hiding that boner you’ve got, you clearly didn’t spend your time away jerking off. What finally got you down here, the promise of cheap whiskey I nicked off some freshman or the fact that your girlfriend’s about two seconds from getting a public indecency charge courtesy of Kim Mingyu?”

Well. Jeonghan may be an asshole but he’s not wrong. Even through the crowd of people and the haze of whatever’s in his cup and a contact high, Seungcheol spots you immediately. Your back is pressed against Mingyu’s chest, his fingers gripping tight at your waist as you roll your hips in time with his. Whatever manufactured filth he’s whispering to you draws a smile, causes you to reach up and tug sharply at his hair. Fuck, Seungcheol can almost hear Mingyu’s moan from across the room, and his blood quickly heats to a rapid boil.

Another chuckle from the demon beside him. “Stop fucking laughing,” Seungcheol snaps, still unable to take his eyes off of you. “Fuck this. I’m going back upstairs. Make sure everyone’s out of here by three. I’m not paying for another noise citation.”

Jeonghan rolls his eyes. “I’m absolutely not going to do that.” He shoves a bottle of something in Seungcheol’s hand. “Take this and think of me when you’re crying yourself to sleep because Mingyu stole guaranteed pussy right out of your hands.”

“Why do you do this?” Seungcheol asks, shoving at Jeonghan’s shoulder roughly. “You never know when to fucking quit.”

Another streak of white-blond. “Hey, no fighting!” Soonyoung slurs, trying his best to push Seungcheol to the other side of the kitchen with his useless, limp arms.

This attracts the attention of Joshua, who struts into the room looking straight out of Fashion Week, much like he always does. He hasn’t even broken a sweat. “Aw, are Mom and Dad fighting again?” he asks, his lips tugged into a smirk. He ignores Seungcheol’s scowl as he fixes himself a drink. “You know Mingyu only does it to get a reaction out of you,” Joshua adds, quieter this time, as if he’s telling Seungcheol a secret only meant for the two of them to share.

“What’s her excuse, then?” Seungcheol fires back, because even if he doesn’t like it, Joshua’s right. This is exactly the kind of behavior he’d expect from resident campus whore Kim Mingyu, but he never expected you to go along with it.

Joshua cocks an eyebrow. “She doesn’t need an excuse, Cheol. She’s not your girl.”

Even though it’s a truth he already knows, it somehow hurts worse being spoken in plaintext, a hushed conversation in a crowded kitchen. Being let down gently. Seungcheol knows he needs to make a decision. He needs to let you go and start moving on with his life; can’t be having these quasi-meltdowns during frat parties anymore. Can’t be possessive and spiteful. You don’t want him. Everyone knows you don’t want him, so that’s all there is to it. Maybe you’ll want Mingyu and he can finally wash his hands of this forever, scrape the jealousy off his tongue.

He steels himself. Rolls his shoulders back, cracks his neck. Navigates the crowd in the living room until he reaches you and your so-called date. Grabs you by the elbow—gentle enough that it doesn’t hurt but firm enough to send a message—and says the two of you need to talk. Upstairs. Now. Mingyu just smiles like he knew this was coming and presses a pointless, wasted kiss just below your ear. Seungcheol tells him to fuck off, too, and Mingyu grins wider, tongue darting out to wet his lips.

As he guides you to his room, he doesn’t think about the way your hand fits in his. Doesn’t think about how this is going to be the last time he has you. Doesn’t think about who’ll have you after. Doesn’t bother to wonder if you’ve finally changed your mind like he had all those other times he’d walked this same familiar path with you in tow. Because it’s the last time. Whatever happens once it’s over is out of his control.

Perhaps that’s what it’d always been about. Seungcheol has always been spoiled and selfish and so terribly, terribly desperate to prove he’s more than his family name and family money. So, yeah, he’d wanted the control; wanted what was never his for the taking. You’d always been the opposite—his perfect little counterpart. Always so pliant and careless and free: everything Seungcheol tried so hard to be but couldn’t, and that’s where the switch flipped.

Someone like you isn’t meant to be controlled.

What he used to want so badly now tastes rancid in his mouth.

The door locks behind you. Seungcheol doesn’t meet your eye as he says, “You got what you wanted. Are you done being a fucking brat?” It’s not a tone he usually takes. Usually he’s dirty, a little possessive, willing to let you set the pace. He doesn’t miss the way your breath hitches. “I asked you a question.”

“Seungcheol—”

He clicks his tongue, stalks closer until you’re nearly in his grasp. Your eyes close instinctively as if you’re expecting his mouth on yours. Instead, he threads his long fingers in your hair and pulls. “What’s so hard about answering a simple yes or no question? Did you really want Mingyu’s dick so bad you’ve gone dumb all of a sudden?”

You gasp. “No.”

“No what?” Seungcheol chides. “No, you’re not done being a brat? Or no, you weren’t just downstairs acting desperate and pathetic for mediocre cock?” He runs his thumb across the seam of your lips, follows their movements as you speak.

“I wasn’t—”

A low, mocking chuckle. “You were, baby.” Sounds condescending; speaks to you like you’re a stupid child. He’s so close to you now. Can smell the tang of your skin, the sticky notes of your perfume. Feels your breath fan against his own sweat-slick skin. Still avoids your gaze, because as domineering as he appears, he knows he can unravel just as quickly. “Take your clothes off. This is the last time I’m gonna fuck you and I’m not going to ask twice.”

Now you truly look caught off-guard. “What?” Still he ignores you, expensive silver rings clinking into a dish on his dresser one by one, expensive watch following. “What do you mean the last time?”

Deft fingers play at the buttons on his shirt. Not silk, but just as expensive. “Shit. You’re really testing my patience, you know.” You’re still standing at the edge of his bed, staring dumbly as if he’s just going to start spilling all his secrets, give you some kind of explanation. “I believe I told you to strip.”

Unlike Seungcheol, your fingers tremble as they work at buttons and zippers and hemlines, push down denim and remove heels. It’s clear you’re trying to work out what he’s playing at—if this is some punishment for fucking around with Mingyu or if he really means it—but you’re not going to risk asking. Things between the two of you are already tense as it is. Seungcheol has never been wound this tight, never been so ready to snap.

“That’s it,” he praises once you’re left in nothing but a skimpy underwear set you know he likes. “Look at you. Fucking gorgeous. I bet that’s why you think you can get away with embarrassing me, huh?” He grabs your chin, forces you to meet his gaze for the first time since he’d dragged you up here. “Get on your knees. I’m getting tired of repeating myself.”

It’s not an unfamiliar sight—as it is, you usually leave Seungcheol’s room with bruised knees on a good night—but it settles differently in his gut this time. Because he’d dared a glance at you once and knows he can’t do it again, so he watches the top of your head as you fumble with his belt buckle and looks away whenever he thinks you might risk a glance upwards. Finds some point on the wall to focus on. Hisses through his teeth when you pull his cock from his briefs, your hands cold against his flushed skin.

All he wants to do is kiss you. Draw this out. Give you a memorable last time, maybe mark you up a little. He really wants to savor the feeling of your tongue on his cock, but all he can focus on is the fact that he’ll never be enveloped in that wet heat again. He’s never going to feel your mouth working him over, feel you humming around his length because he knows you love the weight of it, you love wrenching away that little bit of control, turning him into a mess.

But he’s not going to dwell. He’s going to thumb at the hinge of your jaw, force it open just wide enough for his cock to fit inside. Then he’s going to fist your hair into a makeshift ponytail, grip it tight, use it to guide your mouth until there’s only an inch of space between you. He’s going to stare down at you, silently revel in how fucked out you look already even though he hasn’t touched you. He’s going to watch the way your fingers dig into your thighs because they can’t touch him. Then he’s going to say—

“Beg me. Beg me to let you suck my cock.”

There’s a flicker of hesitation. Seungcheol doesn’t talk to you like this. This is not the kind of dynamic the two of you have, and Seungcheol finds himself wondering if things would be different if it was. If he’d never started going so easy on you. Would you want him then? Or would you have left a long time ago?

He’s half-expecting you to do that now. You look ready to bolt, to pull your clothes back on and tell him to go fuck himself on the way out. Probably go straight back to Mingyu, let him fuck you hard but routine, the way Seungcheol usually does, the way he knows you like. He expects you to leave, and this is the last time, anyway, so he figures he has nothing left to lose.

“I’m going soft,” he snaps, the admonishment harsh on his tongue. When you look up at him, his jaw is clenched, eyes narrow. “You have one fucking job and you can’t even do that properly? Who’s going to want a dumb little whore that can’t follow simple instructions?”

He watches your eyes squeeze shut involuntarily. Wonders if he’s gone too far before deciding he doesn’t care if he has. It’s the last time, anyway, so it’s not like it matters. Watches the indents in your thighs grow deeper. Watches you inhale and try to steady your breathing.

Watches your eyes snap open, any trace of hesitation long gone. “Did you make that other girl beg for you?”

Seungcheol snorts, amusement showing all over his face. “Is that what this is about? You’re still mad I hooked up with some other girl so you act like this?” He clicks his tongue at you, fists his cock, slicking it up. “Are you jealous?”

“No,” you answer simply, “I’m just trying to figure out why you think you can speak to me however the fuck you want.”

Seungcheol’s hand stutters along his length before it stills, your words sharp and immediate against his skin. He should’ve known. Shouldn’t have thought something like this would work on you, that you’d like it, and he’s halfway to soft and throwing his hands up and tucking his dick back into his briefs when you say, “Answer the question.”

“What?”

You tsk. Move your hands from your thighs to his, nails pressing just deep enough to leave crescent moons behind that match your own. Something for someone else to see. “Did you make her beg for you?”

Seungcheol’s brain power decreases the higher your palms go, when your thumbs press into the dimples of his hips. Can barely choke out a hissed yes, yeah, fu-fuck when your hand covers his, fingers wrapping tightly around his own as you guide it back and forth, up and down the length of his cock. “What did you make her beg for, Cheol?”

“To—to to-touch me.”

You hum. Tighten your grip on Seungcheol’s hand and laugh as his hips roll involuntarily, seeking the friction. “Touch you how? Like this?”

“Yeah—fuck, yes, like this.”

“Did she? Did she listen to you like a good girl?” Your hand leaves Seungcheol’s only to collect the precum at his tip. “Don’t get all shy now, Cheolie.” You suck your thumb into your mouth and he whines. “Was she a good girl for you?”

You sit back on your haunches. Watch him jerk himself off. “Yeah,” he finally says, word cracking in the middle. “Boring, though. Not like—not like you.”

“No one is like me,” you admonish. “I could’ve told you that for free, before you went off and fucked someone else.”

“Not an idiot,” Seungcheol replies, the pace of his hand quickening. He’s playing a dangerous game; approaching the cliff edge at a dangerous pace. “No-nothing comes for free with you.”

All you do is smile, lopsided and smug. “Mm, that’s true. Guess your little dom moment earlier can just be chalked up to momentary stupidity, hm?” Seungcheol wants to nod, wants apologies to tumble from his lips until you shut him up, but his palm is so slick against his dick, fist tight enough to white out his vision. “Did you make her beg to suck your cock?”

Truth be told, Seungcheol can’t remember much of anything right now. He’s perilously close to coming, right at that precipice, and each filthy word that slips from your mouth just pushes him further to the edge. He remembers Chan inviting him to a party. He remembers a few drinks, a few hits from a blunt, compliments of Vernon; he remembers a girl making eyes at him from across the room—eyes that had looked a lot like yours in the haze of his crossfade. He remembers a locked bathroom and the sound of his voice as he told that girl how to touch him so it felt like you. He remembers her doing whatever he told her to, remembers how eager and submissive she was, how she didn’t mouth off to him the way you always do—

Remembers how unsatisfying it’d been when he came.

You’ve ruined him.

Not a revelation. Not even close to one. Seungcheol has known this for a long time, but that doesn’t mean annoyance doesn’t flare in his belly at the reminder. You don’t want him. Being so hung up on you isn’t doing him any favors, just means he’ll have a longer drop when this is all over. God, what the fuck is he doing?

He wants you so badly he’s aflame with it. He wants you so badly he can barely look at you anymore. He wants you so badly it consumes him, drives him insane, has him all fucked up and seething. He wants you, he wants you, he—

Loves.

Reality washes over him like a cold wave. Knocks him backwards, drowning, desperately trying to remember how to breathe. In, out; in, out—and none of it changes a goddamn thing.

Four years of this. Four years of touches exchanged in the dark, behind locked doors. Four years of yearning and trying and failing. Four years of everything getting lost in translation, because it’s hitting him now, but shouldn’t he have felt it before? Shouldn’t all those ‘drive me fuckin’ crazy, can’t fucking stand you’s he spoke into the crook of your neck rang hollow?

“Cheol—” you say, because you asked him something, tried to play along with this whole stupid charade, and he knows he’s frozen, just standing there, hand still wrapped around his cock, and he needs to say something, he needs to fix this—

“I’m a liar,” is what he comes up with. You’re still staring up at him, brows furrowed, pinched in the middle. Move, he wills himself, but nothing happens. “I’m a liar,” he says again, because if he says it enough you’ll believe it. “I’m sorry. I’m—”

“What are you talking about?”

He swallows. I’m in love with you, he wants to say. Feels the weight of the words on his tongue, heavy and pressing, and he thinks you should know. Even if you don’t feel the same, he thinks you deserve to know, but the way you’re looking at him—

He can’t bring himself to say it.

But he can—“Can I show you instead?”

Slowly, you nod. Seungcheol nods, too, still feeling off-kilter as he cradles your face in his hands, thumbs in the contours of your cheeks. Moves them down your neck, your shoulders, down the length of your arms. You meet him halfway, twining your fingers together, and he helps you stand, careful and considerate. At full height, he places a hand in the small of your back to tug you closer, kisses you like it’s the end of the world. Whines into your mouth at your familiar taste, and if he lets himself be delusional enough, he can pretend there’s form and substance to those sounds, that their edges are squared-off to form the words he wants to say.

Because it really might be the end of the world. Seungcheol has never known how to play the cards he’s been dealt when it comes to you. Always gets it wrong. Feints one way when he’s meant to go the other, takes the field with two left feet, always playing catch-up. Maybe the mistake was treating it like a game. Maybe the mistake was strategizing, only playing to win, because he lays you gently on his bed, fits his body in the space you create for him between your legs, and realizes he already won a long time ago.

He won the first time your eyes met. He won the first time he’d kissed you, more nerves and teeth than anything else. He won the first time you tucked yourself against his side and stared at his bedroom ceiling, half-smoked joint between your fingers, and made fun of the stupid flag he’d hung up. He won every time you took all the bullshit he threw at you and dished it right back. He won every time he had the privilege of tracing mindless shapes into your soft skin.

Every second of your time you chose to give him—all victories.

He presses in further. Groans when your hands move to his shoulders and grip tight; when your nails dig into the skin of his back. “I’ve been so stupid,” he says, punctuating his words with a nip at your ear. Smirks out of the corner of his mouth at your shuddering breath. “Haven’t I?”

“Yeah,” you answer, rolling your hips upward. He grabs at you desperately, tries to keep you still; hisses when you swat his hands away and redouble your efforts. “You’ve been a fucking asshole for a—for a while.”

You can’t see the way he pouts. Wonders, too, if that would work on you, if it’d earn him one of those rare moments of tenderness. “Well I’m trying to—shit, baby—trying to make it up to you, but you seem pretty determined to make me bust right now.”

He can see the way you roll your eyes. See the way the corners crinkle after as you laugh softly, breathlessly, still trying to chase a high Seungcheol refuses to provide. “You deserve it. You tried to dom me, you dickhead.”

Embarrassment sits obvious on his ruddy cheeks. He hides his face in the crook of your neck so you don’t see it, don’t have something to poke at him with later, but you’re having none of it. You thread your fingers through his hair and tug gently, forceful enough to have him pliable, and there it is: there are stars in your eyes as you stare up at him, tender and soft just like he hoped you’d look, and he misses the feeling of your nails on your scalp until you’re tugging at the delicate chain around his neck and pulling him closer. “Just kiss me and we’ll call it even.”

This is how it feels to get struck by lightning, he thinks. Every part of him is on fire, and he’s content to burn as his lips find yours. He sighs happily into your mouth, hikes your thigh higher around his middle, presses in to lay claim to what little space is left between you. Seungcheol is so close he can feel the rapid pace of your heartbeat, because this is not the way you usually kiss. What used to be dirty and quick, a means to an end, now has intent, purpose. He’s kissing you like he wants to steal the air from your lungs to replace it with something better.

Trails those same kisses down the length of your body. Open-mouthed at your neck, your collarbones, the space between your breasts. Teasing and slow in the space between each rib, just to watch the way your skin pebbles. Hungry and insistent at the sensitive skin of your inner thighs, because if he’s feeling this unhinged, he wants you right there with him. Can’t bear the thought of still being in this alone. Not anymore.

“Legs over my shoulders.” You listen immediately, and Seungcheol mutters a quiet fuck at the sight before him. “God, you’re so wet.”

“No shit—”

He swats at your clit, delighting in the way your body jolts. “Hush. The only thing I wanna hear out of your smart mouth from now on is my fucking name.” And then he’s diving in.

He eats you out like a man starved; like he could do this every day for the rest of his life and he still wouldn’t be satisfied. Can’t help but rut against the mattress at the way you taste, the way your thighs tighten around his head, the sting as you pull at his hair. Places both hands beneath your ass to lift and drag you closer to his waiting mouth—licks at you wet and feverish, all of this seemingly more for him than it is for you, and you’ll get tired of it soon, just like you always do. You’ll tell him—

“Do it right, Cheol, please—”

And he’ll pull away and tsk, swat at you again. His responding laugh will be cocky and derisive when your body trembles again, frantic with the need for more. “What did I say, baby? Do you not trust me to make you come?” You cock an eyebrow, torn between throwing some sarcastic remark at him and following the rules long enough to get what you want. His voice grows serious as he presses a soft kiss to your core. “I will always take care of you.”

The rest is muscle memory.

The rest has a chorus of Cheol, Cheol, Seungcheol spilling from your lips as he suctions his own around your clit. The rest has you grinding your pussy against his face. The rest has him groaning at the way he’s so wholly consumed by you: the taste of you on his tongue, face soaked, two fingers pressed deep into your cunt. The rest has him saying that’s it, baby, come on my face, I know you can and feeling delirious when he finally pushes you over the edge; when your walls clench around his fingers, breathing fractured, when you grab at him until you’re eye-level and you’re licking into his mouth to taste yourself.

Tastes a lot like I love you.

“Want you to ride me,” he says, gaze half-lidded and pleading. You whine as he moves his thumb back to your clit, tracing slow, slow, slow circles, oversensitive. “Will you do that for me?”

The party seems so far away. Grows even further away when you nod and straddle his lap. Seungcheol sits up, tells you to wrap your legs around him. Can’t stand not touching you; needs every inch of his skin to be covered by you like a bruise—something deep that’ll last for days, weeks, months. The mottled colors will change, but it’ll still be there.

“Need you, Cheol,” you whisper, kissing his eyelids. He hadn’t realized he’d closed his eyes.

“You have me,” he answers, but it sounds foreign to his ears—sounds wretched, like the words have been punched out of him. It sounds like forfeit. “Always have.”

You pull back. Study his face. Run over his plush bottom lip with your thumb. It feels like an eternity of silence before you speak. “No, I haven’t,” you insist, tone insistent but delicate, like you’re trying to convince him of it, too. “Not like this.”

I love you.

You lift your hips just enough to sink down on his cock. Seungcheol’s moan is loud and unabashed, not afraid to let anyone hear the way you make him feel. All he can think is familiar: he knows your blinding white heat; has made countless homes in your tight grip he still holds the keys to; has done this so many goddamn times it’s second nature.

He was an absolute fool to think he could ever walk away.

You roll your hips, taking him deeper like you’ve got something to prove, body moving on its own sinuous accord. Seungcheol loves you like this, when you know exactly what you want and aren’t afraid to take it. When you press sloppy kisses to his neck, the column of his throat. When he grabs at your hips, tries to move you faster along the length of his cock, and you swat his hands away. When your rhythmic up-and-down turns into a slow grind that has you gasping and breathless, pussy spasming around him.

“Goddamn, I love this pussy,” he chokes out, fingers gripping tightly at the sheets since he can’t touch you. He’s mindless with pleasure, feels himself start babbling nonsense he can’t make sense of, and it’s overwhelming, having you like this. Isn’t sure how he’s survived this long, but maybe you were right.

Maybe it was never like this before.

Usually he’d take you from behind, quick and dirty, hands digging into the meat of your ass, palm cracking down on it every now and then, imparting white heat of his own. Usually he’d have you beneath him, knees pressed to your chest, all condescension as you told him, eyes rolled back, that he was too deep, that you couldn’t take it, and he’d rub at your clit and tell you you could as he dragged another orgasm out of you. Usually he’d be so frenzied and worked up he’d take you against the door, sweats pushed to mid-thigh, forearms straining as they held you up.

So, yeah—this is different. This is a patient, sensual dance to the finish line. This is Seungcheol in his rawest form: a live wire, vulnerable, anxious. This is the unknown, because something has to come after but he doesn’t know what it is.

This is Seungcheol throwing caution to the wind, leaning in close enough to taste the salt on your skin, and saying, “I love you.”

This is Seungcheol planting his feet and fucking up into you, unwilling to hear your response. Sometimes ignorance is bliss, but sometimes bliss is just bliss, and he’ll willingly take either.

This is you coming undone on his cock, breathing rapid and ragged, pupils blown wide as you stare at him in awe.

“Say it again.”

Someone slams into the wall just outside Seungcheol’s door, and all at once the real world creeps back in: the thrumming bass line of the music downstairs; laughter, shouting, and yelling; fists banging on shut doors—but he hears you loud and clear. Presses each word into your mouth this time and groans when you swallow them. Barely makes a sound as he spills inside of you, feeling like every nerve in his body is aflame.

The two of you are quiet for a time as you try to catch your breath. Seungcheol only moves to grab his duvet and wrap it around your shoulders, smiling fondly at the small thank you you mumble, seemingly still bogged down, well-fucked.

He presses a tender kiss to the corner of your mouth.

“Okay?”

You nod, push at him until he lays back and pulls you with him, lets you use his firm chest as a pillow. That flag you’d made fun of before isn’t up there anymore, but Seungcheol feels warm at the memory anyway, almost laughs at the comment he imagines you’d make.

Clears his throat. Tries to find his courage. “I really am sorry,” he tells you again, because it doesn’t matter if he loves you if he doesn’t know how to be good at it.

“I know, Cheol,” comes your easy reply. You’re tracing shapes on his stomach that have his muscles contracting. “I know you love me, too.” You sigh, press your lips to his rib cage. “Who knew it’d only take making out with Mingyu to get you to admit it.”

A wild laugh tumbles out of him. “Fuck off.” He can feel your grin.

“You got a fucked up way of showing it, though.”

He hums, holds onto you a little tighter. “Go easy on me, I only figured it out about an hour ago.”

“An hour?” you faux-gasp, make like you’re about to leave. “I’m outta here. I know my worth. If I’m going to say it back to someone, they need to be in love with me for at least two.”

He chokes at the implication, heart threatening to beat right out of his chest and into yours. He knows he looks exactly like the moonstruck, loved-up loser he is, and he coughs to cover it. “That’s what I said,” he lies. “Two hours. You must’ve heard it wrong.”

No, it was never like this.

[yyuangss]

TU TODAVIA ME AMAS ! ( JING YUAN )

SUMMARY ! you may not be together anymore, and you can deny it all you want, but jing yuan knows you’re still in love with him.

NOTES ! yes, this is highly based off aventura’s todavia me amas 🏃‍♂️ it was supposed to be the hsr men but i have been wanting to write something longer and i wanted to write for my number one again 🤞 jing yuan, i have not forgotten you. reader is not the trailblazer. word count: 2.3k

A heavy sigh escaped from your lips. Your palm was pressed against your forehead and the other held a few sheets of paper. As you paced around in the Seat of Divine Foresight, the heels of your boots clicked with each movement. This situation is stressing you out more than usual.

So much that you aren’t even sure where to start. Jing Yuan sits quietly behind the large desk, watching your every movement. You are supposed to be discussing the matter with the General. Except you’ve been panicking in silence and left him counting how many sighs you’ve let out.

He watched you stop in front of the desk, gnawing on your bottom lip before setting the papers down on the desk.

“The number of monsters continues to rise.” You muttered, walking around the desk and sat next to Jing Yuan with space in between you. The same silence from earlier filled the room. It’s only the two of you and a warm teapot on the center of the desk alongside two teacups. “At this rate, we would lose more soldiers and it could even be risky for you to fight them alone.”

“Are you saying I’ve gotten weak?” The General finally spoke up after being quiet for the last hour. You tore your gaze away from the documents and looked over at him. His eyes held some drowsiness in them. You’re surprised he didn’t fall asleep where he was sitting earlier when you were pacing. A faint smile is present on his lips.

“I didn’t say that, General.” Your head turned back to the documents and your eyebrows furrowed again. “I’m simply saying that with all these appearances in the Luofu, they’re bound to give you trouble. Doesn’t matter if you’re our strongest soldier.”

“Please. I defeated Phantylia.” He gave his hand a quick wave, dismissing your words. You raised an eyebrow at his boastful comment. It was rare the time he said one of those. “Do you really think I wouldn’t win against a bunch of lowly monsters?”

“Don’t forget that you had the help of Imbibitor Lunae.” You said, resting your arm on the desk. Jing Yuan shrugged in response since he believed he had a valid point. Phantylia was one of his toughest enemies and he still managed to come out victorious with the Nameless, despite her being a Lord Ravager of Nanook.

“I did most of the work.” He said which made a frown appear on your face. His smile became more prominent at your reaction. You weren’t in the mood for his jokes. You didn’t have high hopes since his antics haven’t changed. Jing Yuan tilted his head down slightly. The stare he’s giving you means he’s about to say something else to irk your nerves on purpose. “I must say, it’s nice to know you still care about me after all these years.”

You rolled your eyes and scoffed. You grabbed the stack of papers again, flipping to the second page.

“It’s common sense to care about your comrades, General.” You said, furrowing your eyebrows as you read the encounters a few citizens of the Luofu had with monsters.

Your ability to make up excuses on the spot was impressive to him. He knew you well enough to see right through them.

“Right…” Jing Yuan crossed his arms over his chest. He took in a deep breath and exhaled shortly afterwards. He glanced up towards the ceiling. “Comrades…”

He’s gotten used to the way you act towards him now. He blames that on himself. Having time to reflect on your past relationship makes him realize how wrong his actions were.

To be exact, being in a relationship with Jing Yuan wasn’t easy. Everyone saw the chemistry and connection you two had. His playful remarks that made your face flush. The way you’d manage to get him speechless with your own comments. Once you two confirmed to finally be together, people assumed that you already were in a relationship. And at first, things were perfect.

Jing Yuan had become the man of your dreams. He wanted nothing more than to be yours for the remainder of his life. But once it became more serious and steady, moving out of that honeymoon phase, the problems started to develop.

You’re a high ranking official in the army. Strategic planning, training new recruits, creating teams, making sure the monsters are kept out of safe zones. It might not seem like it, but your position could become risky. The General knows you’re strong. Otherwise, this rank wouldn’t have been given to you.

Though knowing the woman he loves is constantly put in harm's way, he tends to worry. There were times Jing Yuan deliberately refused to send you to the front lines. Even if you argued saying it was your job, he sometimes went as far as changing plans. This was his way of keeping you safe. You couldn’t blame him. He’d lost a lot of friends and comrades. And he’d be damned if he lost you too.

Unfortunately, his overprotectiveness caused him to lose you in a different manner.

It’s not to say that you didn’t care about him. Jing Yuan could act reckless if he wanted to. Those rare moments when he did were the times you acted the same way. But never to an extent where you wouldn’t let him do his job.

The screen from your phone lit up. A notification which caught Jing Yuan’s attention and his curiosity got the best of him. His eyes flicked over and caught a glimpse of what it was. A message. He didn’t bother to read what was sent, he was more interested in the name of the sender. The General easily recognized it because Yanqing was the one to find out about it.

On a busy day, his young student said he ran into you when searching for a criminal in Aurum Alley. You were talking to some man before he decided to ask for your help. Then the lieutenant started to see you several times with the same man. Each time he went and told his mentor about it. As far as Jing Yuan is aware, you’re getting to know this new man.

He had yet to personally speak with his replacement.

“Hmph,” The noise came out extremely low and Jing Yuan looked away, pretending as if his focus wasn’t on your phone for a split second. He wasn’t as quiet as he thought. You looked from the documents to the General. At that same moment, you saw the bright screen light up again. You moved the papers out of your line sight and grabbed your phone.

Ah. Now you see why he’s looking away.

“So…” He cleared his throat. He’s still staring off at the wall as if he were a sulking child scolded by their parents. “This… Man. I presume you and him are together?” What a way to make things awkward.

“No.” You said. Jing Yuan only made his intentions more obvious by facing you again. He’s met with you sending a reply before putting your phone on the desk again. “We’re getting to know each other, is all. Enjoying someone else’s company outside of work and keeping things casual between us.”

“I see…” He mumbled under his breath. The General stares off at the entrance.

Now that the topic is still fresh, you might as well ask.

“And you?” You cautiously looked over at him. “Are you seeing anyone?”

You haven’t heard any rumors or speculation that he had a new lover. It’s been eating away at you ever since your relationship ended. Perhaps this could be your chance to encourage him if he already wasn’t in one. He was the General of the Luofu and had many options. Tons of women fawned over him. And you couldn’t lie, due to their dynamics, even Fu Xuan would be a great pair.

You had to remind yourself you weren’t in a relationship with him anymore and he was free to be with whoever he wanted.

“Me?” He wanted to laugh at the idea of meeting another woman. A sly smile slowly formed on his face and he chuckled lowly. He gave a quick head shake, expressing his opinion on how ridiculous your question was. His fingers tapped on his biceps and leaned back slightly. You pressed your lips into a thin line. He’s dodging questions, as per usual.

“Are you seeing someone or not?” You said, completely forgetting your promise to keep things professional. You were going to get an answer out of him one way or another.

“Would you like me to be sincere?” Jing Yuan’s eyebrow raised. All of a sudden you’re more interested in his love life over the task at hand. He’s holding back his urge to tease you about being jealous. He made a mental note to do that later on.

“Yes.” You huffed out.

“Alright.” He sat up straight. His smile hadn’t wavered in the slightest. You swear this conversation is only making it get wider. “I’m waiting.”

“Waiting?” You asked, squinting your eyes. That was the most believable answer he managed to come up with? “Waiting for what?” Clearly he wasn’t giving any context because he wanted you to pry. Was he waiting for the right woman?

He chuckled again. His arms dropped and he reached over for the teapot. He carefully began to pour tea into the second empty cup to his desired amount. The General set the teapot back down. He grabbed his cup and brought it up to his mouth, staring into it.

“For you to realize that you’re still in love with me.” Jing Yuan said, taking a brief pause between his sentences. He looked at you out of the corner of his eyes, “And then you’ll make me yours again.”

That… wasn’t what you were expecting. He can tell he caught you off guard. What do you respond to that?

“It’s been three years, Jing Yuan.” Your mood suddenly shifted as you glance away. He can’t pinpoint what you’re feeling. Did you realize you’re still in love with him? Are you saddened at the fact he’s doing this to himself? He knew when to be stubborn and staying out of relationships because he wanted no one but you was definitely one of them. “And it’s all in the past. There’s no use in dwelling on it.”

“You can say our love is in the past all you want,” You hear a creak from the wooden bench. Out of your peripheral vision, you caught Jing Yuan inching closer to you and not trying to be sneaky about it at all. Once again, his actions make you send a glare his way. “But you can never get rid of it.”

His smile tells you everything you need to know. He’s serious.

Serious and delusional, you thought to yourself. Jing Yuan truly believes your heart is still his. And if you weren’t already aware, his heart never stopped being yours. A groan came from your end and you pinched the bridge of your nose.

“I’m not dealing with this.” You clicked your tongue, standing up from your spot. You dropped the documents on the table, snatching your phone off it and walking around. Jing Yuan struck a nerve. That’s why you hate that his antics haven’t changed.

You were making your way to the first set of stairs when his voice called out after you.

“I know you better than you think. You’re still in love with me.” His statement made you come to an abrupt stop. Your head whipped around, glaring at him and his stupid accusations. His eyes met yours again and he took a sip from his tea. Your annoyed face brought him some amusement. It reminded him of your early stages of attraction and as if you were starting anew. “Deny it, if you wish. But once you come to terms with the truth, I’ll be waiting for you.”

“You’re more arrogant than I thought.” You said, turning your body around to face him.

“And you’re still in love with me.” Jing Yuan repeated. His tone is flowing with confidence. He placed the teacup down on the table, making sure it wasn’t near any important documents. The last thing he needed was to ruin them because he wanted to flirt with his ex again.

“No, I am not.” Your eyes narrowed at him. It’s pointless to argue with him. He’s getting the reaction that he wanted from the very beginning. His smile morphed into his signature smirk.

“Yes, you are.” He said.

“No, I am not.” You put more emphasis on the sentence this time. He chuckled. He’s tempted to say it again but the argument wasn’t going anywhere.

“Don’t you think this back and forth is a bit childish, my dear?” Jing Yuan tilted his head to the side. His long white hair fell over his shoulders. He shows no signs of stopping any time soon. If you stay longer, his comments were going to revert back to the early days of your relationship. “I say we’ve already made it to the point where we kiss and make up.”

Forget that, he’s already saying them.

“The only thing you’ll be making up is a plan on how to deal with all those mara—struck!” You spun on your heel again. Jing Yuan’s laughter is heard after holding it in. You walk down the first set of stairs, raising your arm in the air and holding up your pointer finger. “I’ll be back soon and I want that plan, Jing Yuan!”

The General is left satisfied. He’s watching you leave the Seat of Divine Foresight, leaving him alone in his office he rarely spends his time at.

You could say that Jing Yuan is a one of a kind man. But he knows that he can be replaced by a man stronger than him, more attractive than him, and kinder than him. As the Nameless from the Express once said, the galaxy is vast beyond compare. There were many places and people you’d never meet in your lifetime. So if you did go looking for this pretend man who was better than Jing Yuan, you’d find him.

But from Jing Yuan’s point of view when it came to you? No woman could ever dream about replacing you.

[hyukalyptus]

or else what? —hueningkai x fem!reader | enemies to enemies with benefits(?). NSFW/MDNI!

cw. mean dom!kai, reader and kai are mean to each other, feat. soob and yj and their partners for a very short amount of time (not in smut part tho), camping, reader is a type A boss bitch kinda person, mentions of rain, kissing, hair pulling, mean names (slut, stupid, dumb, loser), pet names (baby), sex, light restraining, ruined orgasms, biting, nipple play, some dacryphilia, maybe a lil bit of publicness? (theyre at a campsite but implied no one else can hear anything), creampie, reader is embarrassed that she did stuff w kai and tells him, reader has a dog, reader is good at video games, chubby!reader implied, lmk if i missed anything! notes. im usually not one for mean stuff, im way more of a softie, so i tried something new but im quite nervous about it. oh! and this is based off a thought i posted the other week. lmk what ya think ;) smut under cut. wc. 4.1K

“Why are you being nice to him?” You snap at your dog who is currently greeting your friends at your front door. Normally, you wouldn’t mind, of course, but they have taken a particular liking for Kai. Apparently, you’re the only person in the world that hates him. Kai that is. The constant laughing, the sickeningly sweet optimism, and his sheer humility—it all screams fake to you.

You hate every little thing about him and he hates you right back. The way you disagree with everything he says just because, how you’re always pointing out when he’s wrong, how you seem to be depressingly pessimistic. You put up with each other for the sake of your friends—not everyone in every friend group has to get along, right? 

“Nice to see you too.”

“Someone separate them please?” Soobin asks. “I can’t deal with another argument right now.” He rubs his temple out of caution.

Everyone’s over for a game night—Soobin, his partner, River, as well as Yeonjun, and your best friend, Sage, who has been in an on-again-off-again relationship with him since they met. Right now, they’re off, but definitely still friendly. 

“How about some Smash Bros?”

“No,” you say to Kai. “Mario Kart.” 

“River and I have been talking about playing Smash Bros all day.”

“Not my problem.”

“How about we take a vote?” He suggests. You reluctantly agree, watching as you’re the only one that raises your hand to play Mario Kart before you glare at Sage, guilting them into voting for it too. Regardless of their vote, though, it’s still four against two. Kai sticks out his tongue at you just to rub it in your face. God, you hate it when he wins. 

“Maybe you should stop pouting,” Sage says, nudging your shoulder. “Beat him in the next round. You know you’re better than anyone here.” You take the opportunity to easily—and quickly—beat Kai in a one-on-one match. Now it’s his turn to pout while he grabs a snack. 

Luckily, everyone makes it through the night without any blood or tears shed but when the group’s annual camping trip comes up, the cold weather mixed with the prolonged close proximity to people leads to a grumpy Kai arguing with an even grumpier you. 

The reason behind the initial argument is long forgotten—you’re seemingly arguing over anything and everything from you stopping too often to take pictures to him taking sips from your water bottle, which he insists was an accident. Everyone’s keeping you two as far apart from each other as possible, with him leading the pack and you bringing up the rear. 

“It looks like it’s gonna rain soon,” River points out. “We should probably set up camp.” Everyone agrees, setting sights for the campsite. 

“What do you think about this spot over here, Sage?” You ask but are immediately answered with the guiltiest look from them, eyes glancing between you and Yeonjun. “Don’t tell me.” You roll your eyes for what feels like the millionth time that day. “You’re back together?” You ask quietly.

“Please don’t be mad,” they say. “It’s going really well this time.” 

“I didn’t bring another tent.” 

“Kai’s tent is huge,” Sage says, loud enough for Kai to hear, as if they’re making a suggestion to him. “Can she stay with you?” 

“I thought Yeonjun was sleeping in my tent.” 

“I was gonna stay in Sage’s,” Yeonjun responds, with an attempted wink. Everyone looks between each other, dodging each other’s eyes, no one wanting to give in. Everyone’s desperate to stay with their partners but you and Kai are desperate to not spend a single second alone together. Soobin and River won’t budge. Sage’s pleading eyes looking at you added to the pleading eyes Yeonjun sends Kai, you look at each other before he finally agrees—

“Fine,” Kai says, dropping the poles to the ground. “You gotta finish setting it up though. I’m gonna go get some water and refill the cooler with ice,” he says, leaving you with an impossible task. There’s a reason you didn’t bring your own tent.

Struggling with the tent for at least thirty minutes, it’s even less put together than when Kai turned the task over to you. The two couples have snuggled into their tents for the night and the drizzle is quickly turning into a downpour. Soaked, cold, and annoyed, Kai’s making his way back to you, anger etched all over his face when he doesn’t have a dry tent to walk into. 

“Do you not know how to put a tent up?”

“No, actually I don’t.”

“I could’ve set up three tents by now,” he says, but doesn’t have time to be much madder—he’s gotta get a roof over his own head. Without speaking, he takes over completely, getting it up in about ten minutes. It would’ve been quicker if he didn’t have to work in the rain. 

Settling in, you try to dry the parts of the interior that got wet from the rain, but it doesn’t help much. He peels off his now-soaked shirt and searches for a dry one. 

“Ah, that was my last t-shirt.”

“I’m sorry. I tried—”

“I don’t care,” he stops you, holding his hand up.

Falling silent, you change the subject, “What took you so long anyway?”

“I was talking to someone at the ice machine for a while,” he says matter-of-factly, holding up his laptop. “Wanna watch a movie before bed?” 

“No.” You lay your head on the stupid camping pillow hoping for some rest. But your plan is disrupted by the blaring trumpets of a movie intro. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“Watching a movie.” 

“Turn it off.” 

“I didn’t ask for permission to watch it,” he points out. “I asked if you wanted to join me.”

“Isn’t it gonna bother the other campers?”

“Doubt they can hear it.”

Frustrated, you roll over and cover your ears. You thought you could sleep through anything, especially with the rain pouring outside, but you were wrong. Eventually, you give up, throwing your pillow down and slamming his laptop shut.

“What are you doing? You asshole—” he snaps, glaring at you. 

“Me? You’re the ass for not letting me sleep,” you fire back, narrowing your eyes. 

“I wasn’t supposed to have you in here anyway,” he mutters. 

“I’m not an asshole,” you say defensively.

“Yes, you are,” he spits. “You always have to have it your way.”

“I’m not having this argument with you,” you say, turning away and trying to block out his escalating anger. You pull the thin camping blanket over your head, desperate for some peace.

He huffs, clearly frustrated, but you ignore it. The sound of rain tapping against the tent becomes your only solace. Minutes pass in silence, each second stretching longer than the last. You can feel his restless energy beside you, the tension almost palpable.

“I can't believe you. You're so annoying,” he says. 

You simply lay there, trying to block out the muttering under his breath. The stickiness of the damp sleeping bags and the cold camping pillow are ridiculously uncomfortable.

Remembering the clean, dry blankets you have stored in the trunk of your car for emergencies and you get up to grab them silently, ignoring his insults. Returning with them, his eyes light up and he asks, “Where did you get those?”

“My car,” you answer nonchalantly, setting up your new bed. You try to salvage what you can of the sleeping bag to have some kind of barrier between the damp tent floor and your blanket, but it’s not perfect. Eventually settling on the makeshift bed, you can feel Kai staring at you through your closed eyelids. “Can I help you?” You ask without opening them.

“Aren’t you gonna share those with me?”

“Why would I?”

“You’re the one that got our other blankets and the tent all wet.” 

“Not my fault you didn’t bring back-up.”

He exasperates, clearly done with you and all your…what does he call it? Selfish nonsense? “I can’t believe I have to share a tent with you. And you get it all wet in here and won’t even share the dry blankets with me?” 

“You think I'm happy about this either?" Your arms flail before you go on one of your famous rants. “I don’t even like camping but I come along with Sage because they’re my best friend and I was looking forward to spending time alone with them to talk but because they decided to start fucking Yeonjun again I have to sleep in a tent with you, which you make me put together even though I don’t know how to put it together so its disgusting in here and you expect me to share my blankets with you? You’re never nice to me why the fuck would I share them with you? You’re always making me look like a bitch in front of everyone when I know you’re just—”

Kai suddenly yanks you by your elbow and says, “Would you please just shut up?” 

Seeing him this mad…you don’t know if he’s ever looked like this. Red in the face, eyebrows furrowed, not to mention he’s still shirtless since all his clothes are soaked. You look over his body—you’ve never seen him before—and you realize just how muscular he is. Broad-shouldered, defined pecs and ripples in his arms, particularly the one gripping you so harshly. 

You smirk at him before saying, “Make me." Looking over your face, he doesn’t know what comes over him. Maybe it's anger or frustration or the ambiance from the sound of rain against the tent and the small camping lamp, but he can’t help it. 

Crashing his lips into yours, you’re taken by surprise. You feel the power his plush lips give off, but only for a second before you push him off. 

“What the hell are you doing?” 

“I don’t–I don’t know, I, uh…” He stutters, trying to find something—anything—to say, but no luck. Looking at each other, something clicks like we need to have each other now. 

You pull him to you by cupping his cheeks and crashing your lips into his quickly, eagerly, desperately. Hands in his hair, his on your hips, he squeezes your chubby thighs, wanting more, but—

“Woah, woah, woah, what’s happening? You and I are making out?” He asks, shock etched across his face as his eyebrows furrow. 

“Well, not anymore.” You look at him confused. “Did you forget you’re the one that kissed me first?”

“That was just so you’d shut up.”

“Don’t act like you don’t want me. I see you staring at my tits all the time.” You smirk at him and his eyes shift, admitting guilt. Realization hits you. “...Is that why you’re such an ass to me? Because you’re sexually frustrated whenever you’re around me? Do you…like me?”

“No,” he says defensively. “I hate you actually. You’re so annoying.” He rolls his eyes. “But the most annoying part about you is how much I wanna fuck you.” Your eyes widen, but a smile slowly spreads across his face before he asks, “Is that why you’re such an ass to me?” Leaning in closer, he examines your face, looking for any sign of weakness. “It is, isn’t it?” You shake your head. “Say it.” 

“Kai.”

“I wanna hear you say you want me.”

The quickest, most disingenuous, “I want you,” comes out of your mouth. Did you really just say that? It’s not like you haven’t noticed how handsome he’d gotten recently, but it’s also not like you’ve ever thought about doing anything. Before tonight, the thought of him even touching you made your skin crawl. But right now, you don’t think you’ve ever wanted anyone more. Reaching for him, you add, “Now shut up and fuck me.” 

Still shirtless from when he peeled off the wet fabric a few minutes ago, he tugs at the hem of your tank top. Slipping it off you, his eyebrows raise at your bare chest—full and needing to be squeezed, which he does immediately. Your nipples perky and hard from arousal and the cool air are simply begging to be sucked. His warm, welcoming and wet lips wrapped around one elicit a sound from you that you hope is covered by the rain outside. 

The others would never let you live it down if they heard you two fucking. 

Mouths all over—his on your nipples and your collarbone, yours on his mouth and his shoulders—it’s a whirlwind of kisses and pure lust. 

“I hate you,” you murmur, adding a nice hair tug for good measure. 

“I hate you too,” he responds. “So much.” The tent, damp from the rain and hot breath warms you up, skin slick with a sheen of sweat. Sleeping bags and blankets ruffle underneath your bodies as you rush to undress each other fully. “You’re so fucking stupid,” he says against your ear. “Don’t even know how to put up a tent. Need my help for everything?”

“You’ve never been any help to me,” you respond. “Plus, we wouldn’t have gotten rained on so much if you didn’t get lost leading everyone. Need your phone for everything? Can’t even handle one short hike? Good for nothing,” you spit. “Except…you’re kind of a good kisser.”

“Wish I could say the same about you.”

“Don’t lie,” you smirk. “I’m an incredible kisser.” He may roll his eyes but he heads straight back for more. “But you’re taking too long. Hurry up,” you say between kisses. Grazing his hand down your hip, he slides two fingers between your pussy lips and—

“You’re that wet for me and I’ve barely even touched you? Desperate slut.” You grab his cock, making him jerk forward, his mouth dropping open.

“You’re already that hard and I’ve barely even touched you? Horny loser.” Without warning, he lines himself up at your entrance and shoves his cock inside you, forcing a yelp from your throat.

Covering your mouth, he leans down, gracing his lips over your earlobe before whispering, “You never shut the fuck up, do you?” And he’s relentless. Fucking you fast and hard, whispering mean, dirty shit in your ear, shivers rolling down your spine at every syllable. “You don’t deserve to feel this good.”

“And you think you deserve this pussy?” You fire right back. Although, he does seem to be winning with the sheer amount of moaning coming from your mouth compared to his controlled sounds and expert movements. You try your best to compose yourself before saying, “A dumb fuck like you doesn’t deserve to even touch my skin.”

“Is that why you gasp when I pinch your nipples?” He asks. You narrow your eyes at him. But he definitely proves himself right. Rolling your nipple between his pointer finger and thumb, basking in the chills it gives you, clearly sending shocks of pleasure throughout your body. You reach to touch his broad chest but he stops you. “Nuh-uh. Hands to yourself,” he says, gripping your wrists harshly and pinning them to the ground. 

Suddenly, you’ve never wanted to touch someone more in your life. The way his skin glistens, muscles looking so strong, a bead of sweat drips between his pecs and you swear you clit twitches. Honestly, you’re in shock. What do you usually do with your hands? Since when has he been like this? An absolute slut? A mean slut at that. But you love it. 

Your hands stay at your side after he moves to squeeze your body again but you can’t help but reach up—you’re desperate to touch him. He halts, lifting his fingers off your tits. 

“Every time you try to touch me without permission, I’ll stop touching you,” he says. You surrender, putting your hands under your back. “Good girl.”

Fuck. That felt nice too. Being degraded is one thing, but getting rewarded for following directions? That’s delicious. Heat rushes to your ears. 

“Please—”

“Ah,” he places his pointer finger over your lips. “I told you to shut up, didn’t I?” You make a show of keeping your mouth closed. “You learn so fast, hm?” You smile—a genuine giddy smile. “So cute,” he whispers, placing a thumb on your clit, circling it gently. 

But when a weak little, “Fuck,” slips out of your mouth, he stops.

“Did I say you could speak?” You shake your head. Running a thumb across the apple of your cheek, he gives you a look somewhere between my pathetic little slut and you’re being such a good girl for me. 

Keeping your mouth shut, your body is in complete bliss, succumbing to the overwhelming pleasure his cock and hands are giving you. You’re positively drunk on his cock, letting him do whatever he wants to you—touch you here, lick and bite you there, kiss on this, suck on that—not only to be his good little slut, but because it feels fucking incredible. He knows what he’s doing, you’ll give him that. 

Then you feel it, your orgasm is slowly approaching, every move he makes pushes you closer and closer to the edge. And he knows it. The little whimpers you make, trying to hold back. The twitches your clit makes. The pulses of your pussy. 

“Aw,” he starts condescendingly. “Is my good little slut gonna come for me?” You nod rapidly, being sure to keep your mouth shut and movements under control. The last thing you want right now is a punishment. Or maybe it’s the thing you want most? The lines are too blurred to tell. “Say it.”

You can barely mumble it, but you manage to croak out, “You’re gonna make me come, Kai.”

“Good girl.” He doesn’t change a single thing. It creeps closer and closer until you can feel your body start to tip over. And then he does something…expected? Surprising? Honestly, you’re not so sure anymore. He stops, your orgasm so close to crashing over you, ruined by this son of a bitch. 

Tears form in your eyes. Was he really doing this to you? This annoying, stupid fucking jerk you’ve hated for years making you cry over his cock? 

“That’s for being such a goddamn nuisance since the day I met you.” 

What do you do now? Be a jerk to him? Overpower him and pin him down? Sit there like a hole needing to be fucked? You decide to go for the last option, hoping he’ll make you come as fast as he can. Although, truthfully, you feel like one swipe across your clit would make you finish you at this point. 

“Tell me you don’t deserve me.” You keep your mouth shut. Gently wrapping his fingers around your throat, you stare at his eyes. He chuckles like he’s proud of you before he says, “You may speak.” 

“I don’t deserve you.” He squeezes harder, almost like he’s saying that’s not enough. “I don’t deserve to feel this good. I don’t deserve your cock. I don’t deserve…anything.” 

“Good girl.” He loosens his grip around your throat. He’s done with his fun now. The ache in both of your bodies is getting unbearable and he’s determined to make you come first. Which he supposes he already did, despite ruining it for you. But he’s gotta get you back to that place before he gets there first.

Returning to the hard and fast pace of fucking you like he was a few minutes ago, his cock slams in and out and out of your pussy, ripples running down your thighs, ass, tits, everywhere. He stares in awe of your perfect tits bouncing in rhythm with his thrusts. 

Your mouth opens and closes like you want to say something, but if you speak without permission, he may stop. You decide to take a chance anyway. 

“Kai…” you squeak out through the rough movements. He responds with a sweet yet sinister smile that says you may speak. “You are gonna let me come, right?”

His eyebrows furrow, face full of pity. He asks, “You think I should?”

“You better or I’ll…” You trail off.

“You’ll what?” He stops moving, therefore earning a pathetic whine from you, trying to protest without words. “What are you gonna do to me?”

Now what’s a good punishment for him? Clearly, he’s used to being the one punishing his sexual partners—you wonder how his other subs have dealt with him being a jerk. You don’t want to overpower him like you thought you did. There’s something about being pinned down like this, letting him do whatever he wants, not having to move an inch. You’re such a powerful woman everywhere else—the type A personality type, which you admit can get overwhelmingly exhausting. 

Letting someone take full control over you like this—it’s relaxing. You wonder how much he’s enjoying himself but you notice the way his eyes flutter when you simply tighten your pussy around his cock, how he hasn’t stopped touching you since you finally let him, hell, he kissed you first. Of course he’s enjoying this. And bingo—you’ve got just enough control to get what you want. 

“I’ll never let you fuck me like this again.” 

Narrowing his eyes at you, it's like he knows that you caught him in the act of something. Cocking his head to the side, he asks, “We can’t let that happen, now can we?”

Somehow, the energy shifts to be even more desperate. Taking out years and years of frustration from hating each other while simultaneously wanting to have sex. Fucking as fast as your bodies will let you, the tent fills with the absolutely obscene noises coming from your mouths. The only reason you aren’t holding back is because the rain beating against the plastic tent and the occasional thunder thankfully covers most of it. 

When one of his thumbs finds your clit, you feel like you’re floating. The air falls out of your lungs, pleasure taking over your body as you relax into your orgasm. You’re drunk, high on his cock and the only thing you’re seeing are stars and that stupid smirk plastered across his face. It rips through your body like lightning, shooting out your toes and fingertips. 

“Talk to me,” he says breathlessly in your ear. But you can’t. You can only manage strangled noises to let him know you’re having an incredible orgasm. 

Coming down from your high, though, you finally say, “Fuck, that felt so good.” 

“Tell me how good.”

“You made me feel so…so fucking good, Kai,” you say, shaking your head, unsure of what else to tell him. Call it post-nut clarity, but why the hell were you having sex with him again? Honestly, who cares? He’s actually pretty hot and he’s damn good at this too. What happens after this? Enemies with benefits? Never mention it again? You make a note to come back to this with him later. But right now, you need to get to the matter at hand. “Why don’t you tell me how good I feel?”

“Oh baby, you feel so good,” he says. “Your pussy might be the only thing I like about you.” He chuckles, his mouth dropping open, undeniably close to his own orgasm. “Well, maybe your pussy and your tits.” Burying his face between them, he bites down on the plush, groaning against your skin. 

“I need you to come inside me, Kai. Please.” 

“Keep talking to me like that.”

And you do. Giving him praise, touching him in all the right places, putting on a show for him. With a few final thrusts, he groans, whispering something you don’t catch, but you feel it. Him coming inside you with a sexy groan, covering your chest in the sloppiest of kisses and bites. 

Catching his breath, he whispers breathlessly, “Damn. That was good.” Sliding out of you, an awkwardness catches up with the two of you. You push yourself up on your elbows, attempting to gather your thoughts. His eyes are still dark with desire as he looks at you with a satisfied smirk. 

“Listen,” you say, covering your chest with your blanket. “This can’t happen again.” His smile drops.

“What?”

“The fact that we did that,” you gesture between the two of you, “never leaves this tent, you hear me?” Cocking his head to the side, he nods awkwardly. “No one can find out about this. God, I’d be so embarrassed. Let’s just…get some sleep.” 

Did you forget about what he said?

Or I’ll never let you fuck my like this again. Using that as a threat if he didn’t let you come meant you wanted to do it again, no? Slowly putting on his boxers again, he agrees, turning away from you to try and get some sleep but, all of a sudden, there’s too much on his mind. 

[il-miele-che-scrive]

Lando Norris and [Y/n] [Y/l/n]'s rivalry takes a different turn in Miami

yourusername THANK YOU TO MY TEAM, ALL THE REDBULL FANS AND MY TEAMMATE MAX (sorry to beat ur ass lol) MY FIRST VICTORY IN FORMULA 1 I LOVE YOU GUYS

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username1 Chill girlie, it's just a sprint race win

username2 And people were shitting on Redbull for dropping Checo for a rookie 😭 you showed them, been on the podium almost every weekend and got the first win so quick

carlossainz55 Congrats 👏 🥇

↳yourusername THANK YOU 💪

↳username3 Carlos and Y/n are literally the only drivers who managed to beat Max this season and may I add she's a rookie

username4 Redbull knew what they were doing

redbullracing Our golden girl🏆

↳yourusername 💙💙

maxverstappen1 It was my pleasure to see you win💪

↳yourusername Get ready to see it more often

username5 I wonder how Lando feels knowing that a girl rookie got a win before him

↳username6 same thing happened last year when Oscar won sprint 😭 guess he won't do anything about it

↳username4 He's crying probably lmao

username7 📞God's calling he says we should have more girls in Formula 1

charles_leclerc A victory in your rookie year is always special🥳🥳

↳yourusername I love it 😭

oscarpiastri Party when?

↳yourusername After I win the race tomorrow 😇 unless you can tell Lando to get his shit together and try to beat me

username5 I love the fact that Y/n and Oscar are friends, Oscar is friends with Lando, and for some reason Y/n and Lando seem to hate each other

username8 I've heard there's some story behind the whole Y/n Lando thing 😭

username6 WHAAAAAT?

username8 So apparently when they were kids, like 15 or smth, one of them had a crush on the other one, but it didn't work out hence enemies now

username6 I'll assume Lando had a crush on Y/n cuz there's no way one could have a crush on a 15yo Lando Norris lmao

username9 And here I was thinking Y/n was just angry about how Lando almost crashed into her a few races ago

username10 sameeee lmao it was so funny to see them argue in the paddock

username9 Yeah and seeing them the weekends after this incident I was like miss girl just likes to hold grudges over things that happen in F1 from time to time lmao

landonorris WWE FUCKIJG DID IT. PT 1🏆

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oscarpiastri Well done man 👏👏👏

alex_albon Congrats!!! 💪👏

georgerussell63 Congrats mate!!!

username1 All I know is he read the comments under Y/n's post 😭

username2 Y/n's victory pissed him too much lmao

yourusername I guess it's not too much for the little Lando Norris anymore

↳landonorris he's not so little anymore

yourusername Shame I wasn't on the podium with you tho

landonorris do better next time then lol

username3 LANDO HAHAHAAH

username4 His villain era starts

yourusername Anyway I'm glad to be your motivation

username5 No cuz I'd also love to see Y/n and Lando on the podium together

↳username6 Y'all talk about the podium together but I'd love to see them in the cool down room together lmao

username5 That'd be gold man, I'd pay millions to be a fly in the room if it ever happened

username7 @/yourusername stop pretending you're not in love with Lando

username7 Actually guys stop pretending you're not in love with each other @/yourusername @/landonorris

↳username8 THIS FEELS SO PERSONAL LMAO

username1 I love a good enemies to lovers story

username2 ARE THEY OKAY?

username3 I saw a video of Max being at the party so I assumed Y/n was there also BUT THIS IS NOT WHAT I EXPECTED

username4 Nah cuz why's the kiss so passionate 😭

username5 girl is living the Wattpad life

username6 now she isn't rejecting him 👀

↳username7 you mean HE isn't rejecting HER now

username8 Do you know something we don't? 🤨

username7 actually yes, Max as in Lando's Max (not Y/n's Max) went live on Twitch yesterday and he said something along the lines of young Lando rejecting young Y/n

username8 Nahhhh this is even better now

username9 I just know that other drivers will make fun of them after this

username10 I wonder how will they act now? Will they pretend the video doesn't exist?

↳username11 I feel like nothing will change, same hatred, same rivalry (even more now after both of their wins)

username12 I assume it was just a moment of weakness induced by the emotions

username11 And alcohol

username13 there's no way it didn't end in the hotel bed lol

username14 I'm tired of pretending I wasn't waiting for this to happen

username15 it feels like a fever dream lmao

yourusername We deserved a New York trip after the victories

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oscarpiastri This doesn't feel real

↳username1 exactly my thoughts 😭

landonorris well deserved, well enjoyed

↳yourusername You're not that terrible to be around, did you know that?

landonorris i'm still adjusting to your presence, can't say the same

yourusername Mean :(

landonorris i love you :)

yourusername Nice :)

username2 HE SAID THE BIG WORDS

username3 Ladies and gentlemen, Lando 'I don't wanna mature' Norris has matured

username4 God my brain can't comprehend what the hell happened

carlossainz55 The IT couple 👏🏆

↳landonorris of course

↳username5 Seems like they've been teaching Carlos the gen z expressions 😭

username6 I will miss the rivalry between them

↳username2 you really think it'll end?

username6 Yeah they'll go soft on each other

username2 Y/n is the second most competitive on the grid after Max, I don't think the rivalry between her and Lando will end 😂

maxfewtrell Finally

↳yourusername My 15yo self would say the same if she ever knew

maxverstappen1 @/landonorris pls don't affect her performance

↳landonorris pls let me be the cause of redbull's downfall, I've been plotting for years

yourusername It's not like I'll go easy on you now that you're my boyfriend

landonorris mean :(

yourusername I love you :)

landonorris nice :)

georgerussell63 Congrats on finally admitting your feelings guys

↳charles_leclerc We all knew it'll happen, we just didn't know when 😂

pierregasly @/charles_leclerc you owe me McDonald's

↳charles_leclerc We'll go after the season ends

landonorris you guys had a bet?

yourusername Of course they did, I'm so not surprised

charles_leclerc Max also participated.

yourusername @/maxverstappen1⁉️

maxverstappen1 I did participate in the bet...

yourusername How could you betray me like this!!

maxverstappen1 I like maccas, it convinced me

maxverstappen1 But we're all very happy for you if that makes it any better

yourusername Let's say it does...

landonorris i say we should beat his ass on the next race

yourusername I agree, it's settled 🏁 Max Emilian Verstappen, get ready to from now on forever be behind a mclaren and your fellow redbull

[nadvs]

can we please have sleeping with the enemy rafe finally announcing to his friends (and max) that they’re dating now!! 😓😓 (ps. i LOVE your fanfics🤞)

thank you sm, love!! yes yes definitely 🥰 i had to make it super fluffy i had no choice

based on this fic, continuation of this blurb

after they eat a late lunch at an off-campus restaurant, rafe is relieved that she doesn’t ask him to drive her back to her dorm. now that they’ve put it into words, this mutual understanding that their friendship had at some point become much more, he hates the idea of being apart from her.

and once he realizes that, he also realizes he’s gone soft. because he used to never think stuff like that, like it would actually physically hurt to be away from somebody. but she’s the only one he thinks like this about. and now, he figures he can say this stuff out loud.

“you’re my favorite person to hang out with,” rafe says, his thumb tapping over the steering wheel once he starts up the car.

he cringes at himself. it still feels weird saying shit like that. they usually just crack jokes and tease each other. but when he looks over at her, at how bright her smile is, he knows he’s going to keep saying stuff like that until it feels normal, because it’s worth it if she’s going look at him like that.

he suggests they hang out at the house and she happily agrees. they’re curled up on the couch and while they used to always subconsciously be touching in some way, their contact is much more intentional now.

rafe has his arm around her as they sit together. her knees are drawn up to her chest. the sports channel is always on at the house. on the screen is an nfl player sitting behind a microphone at a post-game press conference.

“you’re gonna hate that,” she says. “the interviews.”

his body always buzzes when she talks like that, like him going pro is inevitable. he’s confident in his skills, but not nearly as sure as her that he’ll make it to the nba.

“you think?” he mumbles, playing along.

“yeah, because you have to be media trained and it will not take,” she teases. “like, imagine you were interviewed about yesterday’s game.”

he squints his eyes, indulging her, thinking back to the win his team secured.

“a reporter asks you what you thought of the other team’s offensive approach,” she says. “what would you say?”

“they played like little bitches.”

“see?” she says with a laugh. “you’d lose all your brand deals in a second.”

“you think i’ll get brand deals?”

“mhm. and lots of girls,” she adds.

“already used to that.”

she slaps his chest.

“i’m breaking up with you,” she jokes.

“so, you finally admit it,” a voice from the top of the stairs says. they look up to see one of the other four basketball players living in the house coming down the steps.

“what do you mean?” she laughs.

“that there’s a relationship to break up,” liam clarifies. “you’re not just friends.”

rafe sighs. liam is one of his friends who never stops fucking with him about how married he is to her. rafe has told him time and time again that they’re just friends.

“yeah, we’re not,” he answers.

“you’re not what?” liam says.

“just friends.”

liam just looks at the two of them as they sit on the couch, blinking slowly.

“wait, for real?” his teammate asks.

“yeah,” rafe nods.

“you’re not denying it?”

“no.”

“i don’t know what to do.” liam scratches his head. “i’ve never gotten this far. uh… finally? congratulations?”

“thanks,” she chimes in.

he looks at them for another few seconds.

“this isn’t a joke?” liam says.

“no,” she answers.

“wow,” he says. “what took so long?”

“you can leave now,” rafe tells him.

“cool.”

she laughs as liam turns and heads down the hallway. the conversation goes about the same way with every other housemate as the news spreads.

eventually, she dozes off in front of the tv. she’s curled up in a ball, her hand wrapped around his bicep, her cheek on his shoulder. he can’t help but take a photo from his vantage point.

when she wakes up, she tells him she should go home. he drives her to her dorm. on the way, she’s scrolling on her phone and sees he posted a story. he hardly ever posts anything.

it’s a photo of her taken just over her head, her eyes closed, lashes resting over her cheeks, hand wrapped around rafe’s arm. it’s a sweet, almost intimate photo.

“wow,” she teases. “you’re going to hard launch me just like that?”

“sure. whatever the fuck that means.”

she laughs.

“you know, guys tend to unknowingly post the worst pictures of their girlfriends,” she tells him. “but this really isn’t that bad.”

“no shit,” he says.

“what, it can’t be bad if you took it?” she guesses, rolling her eyes.

“it can’t be bad ‘cause it’s you.”

she glances over at rafe, watching the passing street lights glowing over his handsome face. is this the kind of stuff he’s been thinking and never saying out loud? they were always honest with each other, but she gets why he wouldn’t say things like that if he thought them. it’s so far from friend territory.

she’s determined to do the same thing. to go back to saying everything on her mind to him, instead of stopping herself from sharing her affectionate thoughts like she’s gotten used to doing.

they share a long kiss before she gets out of the car. when she makes it to her room, she reposts the photo on her story, his account clearly linked. just so there’s no confusion and simply because she’s so giddy, she captions it: boyfriends can take good pics sometimes?

it reminds her of the first night they hooked up and she posted a photo of him shirtless in her room.

eventually, everyone on her squad and every basketball player on the team, including her ex-boyfriend, view the story. it’s crazy how part of the reason she and rafe even got together was for revenge over him. she was shattered when max broke things off, but he inadvertently pushed her towards her best friend.

now, there’s no way anyone can misconstrue things. rafe is her boyfriend. and she’s proud of it.

so, she keeps her promise to herself. she won’t miss any opportunity to tell rafe how much she likes him. she texts him: i’m so so so glad i met you

he replies: only three so’s?

she texts: +5 more so’s

he replies: better

then, her phone buzzes again with a text from him: me too baby. you really are my favorite person

(continuation)

[zvtara-was-never-canon]

Can you give examples of Aang showing Empathy? Oh wait, you can't.

Actually, I can - because unlike you, I base my opinion of the characters on the actual stuff that happened in the story, not the bad faith takes dumb people on the internet come up with.

Zuko literally only survived past book 1 because Aang was the ONLY person amongst the heroes that gave a single fuck about his well-being. Aang offered to be FRIENDS with him as early as episode 13, even though this dude is trying to kidnap him.

In the first damn episode we see him realize and try to remedy Katara's struggle with no longer being able to act like a kid and have fun. He wants to travel with her so SHE gets to learn waterbending. He willingly lets Zuko take him into his ship because he understood that a conflict could lead to the people of the water tribe getting hurt or killed.

In Warriors of Kyoshi he apologizes to Katara for letting all the praise and admiration go to this head. He makes sure to put out the fires Zuko and his crew started in Suki's village.

He tries to help remedy the Hei-Bai situation, even though he is unsure of himself and even scared, because he knows he is the only one that has any chance of helping - and the thing that allows him to connect with Hei-Bai is the fact that he is ALSO upset about the destruction the Fire Nation has caused AND hopeful that the world would eventually heal.

He thinks Jet is awesome because he wants to help people that are being oppressed by the Fire Nation - and then is horrified when he finds out his intension is to "free" them by killing everyone

He wants to help the two rival groups not only safely cross the Great Divide, but also stop hating each other.

He confesses that he hid the map to Hakoda because Bato, Katara and Sokka are showing how much they appreciate and trust him and he feels unworthy of it after what he did because he knows it'd hurt him if the roles were reversed.

He is so devastated by the fact that he ACCIDENTALLY hurt Katara that he swears to never firebend again. He is also able to recognize the same principle behind his mistake in Zhao's fighting style, allowing him to win the battle against the bastard.

He accepts the fact that the Northern Air Temple is now occupied by people who not only don't belong to his culture but also don't understand it and unknowingly destroyed something sacred to him (and that one of them had been forced to make weapons for the Fire Nation) because these people have nowhere else to go and he doesn't want them to suffer.

He is furious at Pakku for refusing to teach Katara waterbending, because he knows how much it'd mean to her and how unfair it is that she can't learn it just because of her gender.

He is so devastated by the death of the Moon Spirit that the Ocean Spirit latches onto him to avenge it and save the day - and the leve of destruction it causes haunts Aang, even though the violence was against his enemies. And still, he tries to go into the Avatar state again because people are dying and he can't accept that.

After the fall of Omashu, he wants to rescue Bumi, not because he needs a teacher, but because they're friends.

He felt empathy for Toph when she was explaining to her parents how lonely and unappriacted their over-protection made her feel.

He and Katara both feel bad for snapping at Toph during "The Chase" and wanted to apologize for not understanding that being part of a group was a radical change to her, even though she had refused to even try. He also didn't have a problem with fighting alongside Zuko and Iroh against Azula, AND he looked concerned when Iroh was injured.

After Katara comments on the fact he called Toph Sifu but not her, he calls her Sifu while bowing, to show that he respects her both as his master and friend.

The hopelessness and downright depression he was feeling after Appa was stolen only starts healing because he saw a couple being happy with their newborn baby - the same couple he decided to help cross the Serpent's Pass, even though he and his friends had just been allowed to take a much safer route to Ba Sing Se.

His understanding and sympathy towards Jet, even after everything the guy did, was so strong that it freed him from literal brainwashing.

He doesn't want to push his love for Katara aside to gain power because he cares about her too much - and then does it anyway because, even though not making her his main focus 24/7 offers the risk of her being hurt, him neglecting his mission guarantees she'll get hurt.

He is devastated to learn that the world thinks he is dead because he knows he was everyone's last hope - and yet in the end he still accepts the burden of failure because he understood that, at that moment, everyone would be safer if no one else knew he was still alive.

He goes to a Fire Nation school and bonds with the kids, wanting to give them a taste of freedom and joy, as well as trying to understand what the war is like from their perspective. The same episode also has him pull Katara for a dance because he noticed she was feeling left out.

The boy felt empathy for, and understood the mistakes of, both Ruko and Sozin. SOZIN. Aang could see the humanity in the monster that is responsible for him losing his entire culture and everyone he loved.

When Zuko spoke about wanting to control his impulses so he wouldn't accidentally hurt anyone, Aang explicitly connected with that struggle and saw them being teacher and student as fate, and Zuko agreed because that's how deep their connection was.

Aang is not happy about Katara wanting to murder a man, but he still lets her take Appa on her mission and is not disapproving when she ultimately spares the guy but does not forgive him and makes it clear she never will.

He feels empathy for freaking Ozai, to the point that refuses to kill the guy - even as he has the balls to say that Aang's family, his people, deserved to die. He spared that guy - but only after he had a way to do that without it meaning the death of more innocents. Aang, the pacifist, was going to turn his back on everything he believed in just to avoid more human suffering.

So yeah, miss me with your bullshit and don't come back until your brain is developed enough to understand a cartoon aimed at kindergarterners.

[damn-stark]

Chapter 12 The Siren’s trick

Chapter 12 of Moonlight

A/N- Welcome back Margaery Tyrell and Sansa Stark

Warning- Swearing, talks of death, and sexual harassment, ANGST!!, fluff, SPOILERS, ser gwayne (tehe), LONG CHAPTER.

Pairing- Aemond Targaryen x Velaryon!fem-reader, Cregan Stark x Velaryon!fem-reader

Episode- Only part of 2x03

(If you want to be tagged let me know)

————

—Cregan this might be a cold continuation from what I was previously writing, but it cannot be helped. I did not want to leave you waiting, and I did not want you to hear rumors about me. And really, you are the only person I can tell what I’m about to say.

This will be my first and last letter. I am returning to King’s Landing, to infiltrate the Greens on Daemon’s behalf. I did not want to, I had told my mother I was not going, but just tonight they sent someone to kill her in her sleep, she got saved, but I cannot stay here and do nothing when I can be on the other side and be the thing she needs to win this war.

I might be killed, or I might not. I do not know, it’s a risk I am willing to take for my Queen. And if I am killed and this is the last time I ever talk to you, thank you. For everything…

I left my mother a note, I apologized for leaving and bestowing her with even more worry. I told her that I’m willing to do anything to help her get her throne back. Yet the one thing I did not tell her was how scared I am to return.

I’m terrified. I’m truly terrified. I knew fear, I felt it when I was in labor, but this fear I feel now is new, grander, and more horrifying, but it’s my duty to leave and help my Queen even if I have to leave behind all that I ever wanted.

I hope we see each other again. Take care of your boy.

Love, yours truly, your Darling.

“I know I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” you apologize to Aerion as he begins to whine after being woken up when you take him from his cradle. “<But we’re going to see your father, hm?>” You try to assure him Valyrian so the guards outside don’t hear and go alert your brother or your mother.

And even if you don’t think Aerion would quite understand what you offer him in return for waking him up, he actually smiles faintly in response before he settles against your chest as you cradle him against you.

Luckily the guards don’t question why you’re taking your child out so late at night, they don’t care that you’re dressed in a different gown than the one you just wore earlier. They watch you scurry away in a hurry without as much as a single comment which will probably get them in trouble with your mother when she finds out you're gone, but they don’t know you’re disobeying her and sneaking off Dragonstone to go into enemy territory.

No one knows, you told no one to make it easier on you

and on them, and also so nobody would try to stop you; even if not so deep below the surface you’re hoping someone will catch you rushing down the corridors and stop you. You don’t want to leave, you don’t want to be under Aegon’s rule now that he’s king and no one can truly tell him what to do. Before he would already get away with commenting stupid shit when Aemond wasn’t around you, and your friend and handmaiden Vanessa was spared from his tactics because you would tell him to leave her alone, but now that he has superior control and power?

But then there’s also Aemond. You don’t want to face Aemond. You don’t want to look into his eye and pretend you’re okay with the heartbreak he caused you and your family. You don’t want to sleep next to the man who killed your brother, and no matter the gaping hole in your chest, you don’t want to let him touch you in the most intimate way. Most importantly you don’t want to leave your family again. You want to stay, you want to fight amongst them.

You want someone to catch you mid-escape and stop you.

Someone. Anyone.

You get closer and closer to the cave's mouth where the dragons come and go, where you’ll find Astraea and Vanessa waiting, and still, no one comes out from the darkness of their rooms, and no guards question why you’re strapping Aerion to your chest as you rush down the corridors.

You’re only paces away. Moments from reaching your dragon, and finally you run into a presence.

“Grandmother,” you mouth breathlessly and finish securing your child’s straps.

Your grandmother looks you up and down, realizing your gown is not one used to sleep, and Aerion is too secure around you to just be heading for a stroll. You’re up to something and she’s the only one to notice.

“Granddaughter,” she greets and glances out the window in the distance to double-check that it is in fact still nightfall. “Why are you not abed?”

You swallow thickly and even if you hope she stops you in your attempts, you interject with your argument. “The Queen got attacked by Ser Arryk, who pretended to be his twin.”

Your grandmother nods. “I heard. That’s why I am here. Is her Grace all right?”

You nod lightly. “Shaken, but okay…I have to do this,” you continue blurting in your defense. “I have to do what Daemon told me to do in hopes that it will be my mother's path to her rightful throne.”

Your grandmother nods again but this time it’s a much more gentle nod as her face fills with concern yet also shows slivers of pride.

“I don’t want to return to King’s Landing, I don’t want her to feel like I abandoned her, but if it stops more of the people I love from dying or getting hurt, and if it gets her on that throne then I have to try,” you share without making it a question because under your hesitation you believe what you say.

“Don't stop me,” you lie and internally shout the opposite with tears clouding your eyes, but not falling because you fight them back to try and look confident. “It’s the right thing to do. And I’m the only one who can do it.”

Your grandmother holds your gaze and right away reads you like a book; she sees your fear, she notices how you plead with your eyes to be stopped, but she also sees your desperation to help, she sees your determination, and your hunger to do more. She sees a warrior, a woman she’s proud of, and she can’t say no to that because she knows that beyond all that fear you’re desperate to help.

“They’re snakes,” she speaks sweetly but with confidence so you could feel the same. “And you’re a dragon. Always remember that.”

You draw in a deep breath and nod slowly. She approaches you and grabs your face, making you look her in the eyes and see the pride she feels for you.

“If you ever find yourself in trouble send me a raven or whatever it is you can. Meleys and I will be there as soon we can, okay?”

You nod in comprehension and grab a hold of her hands as if your life depends on it.

“I love you, grandmother. I will see you again,” you muster to say with a tender smile and no tears.

“I love you too,” she redirects as she caresses your cheeks. “Be careful.”

After one last lingering look you pull away before you’re caught by someone who will stop you, and step out into the cave still hoping the same, but feeling more empowered now to leave and play your part.

The feeling of being so close to the stars does have a way of calming the nervousness that has your hands trembling and ties your stomach into knots. The sight of the glimmering sea basked by the moon's light does help you escape your terrorizing fear and feel at peace, like all you’re doing is taking a late night flight, admiring the stars from the heavens, and answering the sea's call. It's easy to find your resolution in the tranquility, now rather than panic, the belief that your path will lead you right back to Jacaerys, your mother, your grandparents, and your cousins makes you feel at ease over your choice. This is also why you’re leaving, after all, to be with them in a better world.

Yet just as your breaths are calm, and your heart eases to its normal resting beat, the moment you see the crowded and lively city, the large castle on that cliff, and notice all the eyesores that are the Scorpions aligned the top of the wall, your stomach twists tighter to the point you feel like vomiting, your heart pounds faster, and your chest tightens which is a new and unwelcoming change.

“DRAGON!” You hear the echoes of men coming from below as they all work hard to point the scorpions at Astraea calmly coming to a stop so they don’t have the audacity to shoot her.

“Vanessa,” you say and peer over your shoulder. “Wave the white flag so they know we’re no trouble.”

You then glance down at your aware child and caress the back of his little head. “<We’re almost to your father, okay?>” You whisper to Aerion before you press a light feathered kiss on his head. “<You should be sleeping though, hm?>”

Aerion has learned to blow raspberries thanks to his uncle's Viserys and Aegon, so he responds with spit all over your chest.

“<Lovely,>” you mutter, but then again it beats getting peed on. Which he has done, a lot, luckily most times Aemond is the victim of his son's incidents.

“Okay,” Vanessa steals your attention as she grabs onto one of your shoulders to wave the white flag you made sure to bring for this exact purpose.

However, in the midst of waving the flag of peace, and while some guards hesitantly drop their threatening aim, a large arrow is shot at Astraea unbeknownst to you or Vanessa. It comes whizzing at you as the flag continues to be waved in the sky, but luckily, thanks to the gods, Astraea notices the arrow coming at her from the corner of her watchful eye and jolts down before taking a sharp turn.

You let out a shocked gasp whilst also becoming alert of all your surroundings, and Vanessa throws herself on your back to keep herself secured.

The arrow aimed at your dragon's neck luckily flies past you and her thanks to your dragon's efforts, yet missing doesn’t spare your dragon's fury that mirrors yours.

“<Stupid idiots,> you grimace and snap your glare at the men who are to blame, finding them confused but also alert. They don’t see your piercing glare, but your dragon mirrors it before she lets out a loud and furious guttural roar.

“<Astraea,” you call out and lean down as much as you can to caress her side. “Calm down. Calm down, girl.>” you coo in High Valyrian in hopes she’ll listen, but she’s too clouded with anger, after all, she knows you didn’t come with intentions of fighting, and she knows that Vanessa and baby Aerion are straddled on her so she begins to circle around as she shakes her head and keeps throwing out angry shrieks.

“<Astraea,” you call again without losing your patience. “calm down. Calm down. We’re okay. You saved us. We’re okay, calm down girl.>”

Astraea finishes her circle and opens her mouth, letting out low chitters as she prepares to blast out fire at the men responsible.

“<Calm,” you coo and pat her. “Calm, my girl. We’re fine. We’re safe. Calm.>”

Astraea slowly closes her mouth and peers over to meet your gaze and assure herself that you and those with you are fine.

“<We’re okay,>” you assure her and pass her the same emotion with your eyes.

Astraea holds your gaze for a moment longer before she looks ahead at the same time you do.

“Are you okay, Vanessa?” You make sure to ask in the common tongue as you let out a deep and relieved breath.

“Yes, Princess,” she assures you. “Aerion?”

You glance down at your son and see him smiling which probably means he found Astraea’s antics amusing.

“He’s fine,” you say with relief of your own and caress the back of his head while noticing that all the guards now drop their aim and depart from the Scorpions, letting you push your handles forward to nudge Astraea down.

Nevertheless, when Astraea is descending to the ground, just past the Iron Gate, all those nervous and uneasy feelings come rushing back after you were rattled with fear and anger over acts of stupid people who don’t know what white flags mean.

When your feet hit the ground though, and you see castle guards already waiting for you by the gates, all those feelings that overwhelm you, increase tenfold. Now your blood pumps so hard that it interferes with your sight.

“I have renounced the…false Queen Rhaenyra,” you hide the strain in your voice as you say words you don’t mean, before also saying words that actually hurt you to say. “I have come to pledge my loyalty to King Aegon.”

The guards look at one another with confusion so you interject. “Where is Ser Criston Cole? Why is he not here to greet me?”

A commander steps forward and raises his head before he fills their silence without giving you the answer you sought. “Give us your weapons, Princess, and come with us.”

You shrug the satchel of arrows and your bow off your shoulders before grabbing your gown's skirt and pulling it up, making the man look away and miss the dagger you had strapped around your thigh. Once he sees the weapon land at his feet he meets your gaze again.

“I request an audience with the King, and my husband,” you demand with your nose in the air as the men pick up your weapons.

“They were alerted of your arrival,” the guard says and steps back to point ahead.

Before you walk past the gates you scoff and sass him. “Was my husband alerted of the incompetence of your men on the wall, Ser? A white flag means what?”

The man swallows thickly and lowers his head as he doesn’t hesitate to answer. “Surrender or a request for parley.”

You feign a dry laugh and nod. “Yes, yet an arrow was shot at my dragon whilst my son and my handmaiden rode with me. I will have all the names of the squadron who shot that arrow.”

The guard nods and steals a glance back at your dragon still behind you, growling as she watches for any wrong moves that might be made.

“Come with us, Princess,” the guard finally guides you forward and you’re hastily helped in a carriage that rushes you inside the castle walls where you’re immediately repulsed by the green and gold banners that are plastered everywhere.

The sight of them actually saves you from your torment, but only for a little because once you’re inside you’re slammed with all your emotions and you can’t help how your eyesight only seems to focus on what’s directly ahead of you. Everything else is swallowed by darkness as all your senses falter, and your heart and blood pound.

A part of you immediately expects to get ambushed once you walk into the throne room, and another part of you fears being greeted by Aemond alone because you know he won’t delay, he would come straight down the moment he was told of your sudden and ominous arrival. You would worry over Aegon, but it’s still dark out, and you can’t imagine he dropped all his temptations because he was bestowed with a great purpose, so you know for certain he won’t be waiting for you upon the throne.

Nonetheless, when you hold Vanessa’s hand in anticipation and approach the welcoming throne room, all you actually see is an empty hall and an empty seat.

Hundreds of candles light the hall, but it doesn’t make the throne room feel less unsettling. You once used to feel unbothered by the great room, after all, this was your home, you knew the meaning this room held, but you could never say you felt awe. It was another room. Now though, you feel uneasy like, when you walk into a stranger's home. Most of the hall has remained unchanged, besides the banners and large statue of your grandfather King Viserys in construction, but besides that, it's remained the same. Yet you can’t help but feel at odds.

You don’t like the ill feeling, you don’t like that besides the guards and Vanessa, the throne room is lonely. It only works to worsen what you already feel. It only makes the Throne Room seem dark.

You’re consumed by darkness and it makes you want to run and return home where it’s warm and surrounded by those you love. You want to leave. You shift your feet to storm away without any thought, but at that precise moment, the throne room doors open once again, welcoming in a shining light that casts on the ground and rolls down to your feet.

You expect a rowdy greeting from the King, but in the silence you capture the shadow of a tall and slender figure get painted on the ground instead. Now you need no help figuring out who the shadow belongs to, you know who it is without having to look back. Just like you recognize the sound of his footsteps as they climb down the steps.

You would know his footsteps blind and deaf, by the mere vibrations that strike the ground. You could recognize him by just his alluring scent, by his breaths as they furl in and out of his body. He doesn’t need to speak for you to know that it’s your husband, it’s Aemond.

He was the light that filled this hall and unwantedly calmed down your urgency to run.

And as if attracted to the light, you look back. Every muscle in your body yells at you to not look, your mind shouts at you to avert your gaze, but your bleeding heart can’t resist, it makes you look back to see him; the man who killed your brother, your husband, your Aemond, surrounded by the very candlelight that attracted you.

He meets your gaze and you meet his, causing your heart to skip a beat, and a breath to escape past your lips, whilst you also capture the disbelief written so plainly all over his face. It's almost like he can’t believe you’re standing across from him, and how can he?

You look like a dream to him with the way the moonlight and all the stars shining through the large windows bask you in their luminous light, making you look like a beautiful deity. A divine angel sent to him from above with the blessing that is your child.

And how can he not expect you to be some otherworldly presence? He sent letters in hopes you could return home so he could explain what happened because he knows how much you love your brothers, but you never came. Not until now, here you are standing under the throne, watching him without missing a step, with betrayal, and heartbreak he can easily read off your face.

He expected anger, but all he sees is pain. Heart aching pain that sets his world off its axis.

He had hurt you before, six years ago, but not like this. Six years ago when he accidentally cut your face he saw disbelief and horror, pain too, but not like this, he never heard your silent ‘why?’ screams that your eyes shout out at this moment. He never saw sorrow droop your eyes like they do now, and his guilt for hurting you was never as tremendous as it is now.

He hurt you, the one who’s loved him like no one has before. The person who’s brought him only happiness, and a blessing in your son. That’s why he wants you to be angry because he did something he can’t take back—and he does expect you to be overcome with anger later, you’re not one to swallow it down for him. Yet right now all he sees is disbelief and agony that gets more and more painful the closer he gets to you, until finally, you rip your eyes away when he’s only a few feet away.

“Look,” you coo at Aerion with a smile and stinging tears brimming in your eyes. “Look who it is, my love.”

Aerion yawns back mindlessly since he can't pick up on your sadness, he just sees your smile that begins to fade as you pick him. When his eyes drift to the tall man getting closer to you though, that exhaustion that threatened to take him to sleep completely disappears. Instead, his face brightens the moment he sees Aemond, the father he’s longed to see since he left home.

Yet before Aemond can take Aerion in his arms, you halt your attempts to hand your child over when you catch the elegant silver armor of the Kingsguard gleaming against the candlelight as they approach from the far left end of the throne room. Only these Kingsguard members aren’t the ones from before, they’re new, younger, and probably stupider considering they’re Aegon’s drinking buddies.

You would want nothing more than to share a judgemental look with Aemond, but now that he’s closer you can’t even have your face turned his way; which is why you get the perfect view of the Usurper, the false King Aegon, trudging in after his dimwitted Kingsguard with his clothes unbuttoned, his hair unsettled, and his eyes red with exhaustion or something else you don't recognize. Either way, he doesn’t look Kingly, not even when he’s caught off guard, but you’ll give him the benefit of the doubt only because it’s the middle of the night—Unless he’s drunk that is…

“Your Grace,” you utter words that once brought you pride to say to your mother, but now bring you disgust to say to him. Even the thought of bending your knee is a struggle to think about, but you know that you won’t get far without showing the respect he wants to see, so you force yourself down to your knee to someone so undeserving.

Luckily he doesn’t sense that disgust, you mask your emotions well behind your sorrowful face set to hopefully gain their sympathy while you try to enchant them with your plea for mercy.

“So it is true,” Aegon breaks his silence while he slowly approaches you behind his Kingsguard, as if cautious that you would try anything with Aerion still in your arms. “You are here.” He scoffs and you catch a hint of amusement, but you’re left with nothing to do in the regard but pretend.

“I come to renounce the false Queen Rhaenyra Targaryen,” you swallow your pride and leave no pauses, even if you can feel yourself straining as it feels like you’re hurting your mother with such cruel words. “I come to pledge fealty to ward the King, as well as ask for his forgiveness.”

You pause and bow your head so he can feel pride and superior over your current state which is something you never once let him feel with you. Not until now.

“I come to beg for mercy and a second chance,” you go on and don’t stop even if you hear the main doors opening before two pairs of footsteps filter in to join the audience already gathered around you and your handmaiden; as if you were a spectacle to gawk over.

However, in many ways you are, who would’ve thought that Rhaenyra’s own daughter would leave her precious mother's side to join the enemy?

It was expected of you since your husband is part of the green faction, but Rhaenyra is still your mother, and you have had chances to leave her side already but you haven’t until now. Why?

That’s on everyone’s mind but yours, that’s why they watch you carefully and never let Aegon get too close.

“I saw my wrongdoings,” you continue to sing your plea with a soft and sweet voice. “I saw my mistake in trusting Rhaenyra. I cannot stand behind her, I cannot support her after what,” you swallow thickly and look up to meet Aegon’s surprised gaze. “…she did to Helaena and Jaehaerys.”

Aegon’s eyes harden and every form of amusement he had upon seeing you on one knee is lost and replaced by slow-burning anger that is so rare to see on him. Yet it does nothing to actually scare you.

“I'm sorry. Please forgive me, My King.”

Someone falls by your left side where Aemond stands as well, but you don't see who it is because you’re too focused on Aegon parting away from the safety of his Kingsguard to approach you with that same hardened gaze seething with anger.

“To your feet Sweet good-sister,” he rolls out as he also motions you up with his fingers.

You hesitate, but slowly push yourself to your feet, causing Aerion to squirm as sees his father again.

Aegon sees and his lips twitch before he smugly barks an order without letting you out of his sight. “Take the child.”

Your eyes widen and that sorrow you expressed turns to panic. “No!” You cry out and press Aerion against you to protect him from the reaching hands whilst you desperately look over at Aemond with no regard to your previous feelings that were just tormenting you and forbidding you from looking at him.

“He has no fault in this Aegon,” Aemond interjects right away, making you notice Ser Criston is the one by him since he moves in between Aemond when his sword hand twitches.

“Aegon,” you hear the Dowager Queen Alicent interject, giving away the fact that she was the second person who had walked in late.

You had wondered where she was, you’re sure she would’ve been told you were here right away. You suspected she would already be here waiting for you, but she came late.

“What?” Aegon chuckles and raises his hands. “I mean no harm to my nephew. He’s my brother's son. He’s just in the way.” He quips and makes sure to look at you with a new sense of smugness now that he has you rattled.

“No,” you remain defiant and glare at his Kingsguard slowly approaching you while also glancing over at Aemond seething and glaring daggers from the side—“I will not let them touch him. Not them.”

His Kingsguard stop as if they were listening to you and look over at Aegon in confusion as to what to do next. Especially because Aemond still stands there menacingly.

“I will take him,” Alicent volunteers instead of Aemond. “Give him to me,” she tells you and approaches you with her hands out.

You may not like her, but one thing is certain; whatever hatred she has for your mother is never redirected at Aerion, she seems to love him just as much as she loves Helaena’s children. And Aerion does love her too since he is more accustomed to her presence. It’s why after one kiss on your son's head you hand him to Alicent, and motion Vanessa with your eyes to stand by her.

“I never would have expected you of all people to return,” Aegon interjects, making you drift your gaze away from Aerion completely taken by his other grandmother, and refocus your attention on the man before you.

“Yet here you are begging for mercy.” He feigns a smile that falls quickly. “Why should I believe you?” His voice grows cold which contrasts his burning glare.

“Why…” he trails off and smiles tauntingly at the ground before he suddenly lunges at you and grabs you by the throat, but not tight enough for you to actually gasp for air. His grip is just wrapped around your throat.

Not like it matters to Aemond either way because he still reacts in the blink of an eye by trying to lunge at his brother. Albeit he gets stopped right away by Ser Criston; proving to you at that moment why Aemond hadn’t taken Aerion just now, he was more concerned about you and what Aegon had up his sleeve. And he has every right to worry because Aegon is daring now that he’s king, now that he has control and no one to really tell him to stop. He pulls out the Valyrian dagger that your grandfather Viserys would carry, and slowly brings the tip to your throat, making you fear him for the first time. Not because he’s terrifying, but because no one has threatened your life before.

“…shouldn’t I pluck your eyes out and send them to Rhaenyra?” He finishes what he was winding up to say. “Along with your head. Firstborn for firstborn, hm? That would be justice.”

Aegon is careful not to puncture your skin as he drags the tip of the dagger up your face, as if teasing you instead of threatening you.

“She killed my son, why shouldn’t I send her your head?” He sneers as he watches the way he moves the dagger up your cheek. “Unless it was you who sent them.”

The tip of the dagger is pressed against you so you're careful not to shake your head, even if you want to further get your defense across.

“No,” you immediately deny him even if you shouldn’t, you should stay quiet, but you can’t just stand quietly as he wounds you by throwing false accusations of something you would never do. “I would never hurt Helaena,” your voice quivers. “I-I love her. I would never hurt her. I would never hurt anyone’s child, I’m not a monster. I would never do that.”

Tears fall down your cheeks but Aegon wipes them away as he keeps moving the dagger up to bring the tip inches away from your eye, causing Aemond to groan and push back against Ser Criston’s arm.

“Let me talk to her,” Aemond interjects as Ser Criston digs his feet into the ground and fights back the prince's push forward. “I will talk to her Aegon.”

Said man scoffs and shakes his head. “No. Gods no. You’re too enamored by her,” he says and laughs. “She would just bat her eyes and you would let her go. You have always been too sweet on her. No. I will continue talking to her. If she behaves she will not get sent back to her mother. Do you understand?” He directs at you now and shifts his hand holding the dagger, causing the candlelight in the distance to reflect on the smooth metal, and entrapping your attention to the gleam before your focus gets entranced by the fires lit in the metal stands.

It’s just an arm's reach away, you can grab it and tilt it on him. Your hand wouldn’t burn, but he would. He would stop touching you and not be so close. It can work.

But the war wouldn’t end and you would only die or be locked away for certain. You can’t do it, you won’t. Thus you look back at his stupid smug face.

“I will spare your son's life because he’s my nephew, but you,” he presses and brings the knife back down to your throat. “You’re just another bitch—”

You clench your jaw, and Aemond grimaces, making Aegon’s smirk deepen.

“My brother would not do better, but there are plenty of bitches to choose from,” he remarks and starts to rub his thumb on your neck, making you stiffen and start to actually, deeply feel horror.

“Stop,” you plead quietly but loud enough that Aemond can hear. “Stop it.”

Aemond pushes back harder as he hears you, but Ser Criston still manages to hold his ground.

“Why should I not kill you now?” Aegon asks. “You’ve been parading about the Kingdom asking for other Lords' loyalty for your mother. You bent the knee to her. You have no real sense of loyalty.”

“I was wrong,” you repeat yourself. “I was blinded by my love for her, but I am not now. I see clearly now. You are the true King. I see that now. Besides, how could I stay over there with Daemon wanting to kill Aerion for what happened?” You throw out a lie so they’ll be more willing to believe what you're trying to sell. And you actually get Aegon to hum, but as he keeps making you uncomfortable by caressing your neck.

“You do have a dragon,” he gets a point across. “But would you really attack your family?”

“My grandfather,” you blurt in hopes that will get him to stop his threat and stop what he’s currently doing. “My grandfather is going to make Aerion heir of Driftmark, and Lord of the Tides, but those efforts will be for naught if you kill me.”

Aegon glances at his side before slowly pulling the dagger away from your throat.

“If you kill him Aerion would be the next lord of Driftmark, which means that we could give you control of the fleet,” you add, making Aegon stand still for a moment as he takes in what you just said.

“We need that fleet, my King,” Aemond jumps into your defense. “With Aerion being so young we would be in charge until he becomes of age.”

Aegon nods slowly in comprehension but he then tilts his head and clicks his tongue. “But killing Lord Corlys will take time. If it happens at all.”

“I will fight for you,” you roll out as enticingly as you can to try and enchant him with your voice. “Let me fight for you, for my family. I want to come home.”

Aegon sighs deeply and stares deep into your soul without looking for help from anyone. And you look at him and lift your chin slightly to exude confidence you don’t feel at the moment.

Not like Aegon actually notices how shaken and fearful you currently are, or else he would pick on that and really make you feel small. He only sees what you want him to see, it’s why your song works on him and all the others.

“Fine,” he breathes out and finally lets you go, making you fall on your knees out of defeat as to what he was doing, and letting Ser Criston let Aemond go.

“You may return home. You will not join any of my councils obviously, and your dragon will be put in the dragon pit. If you step a hair out of line I will have you killed and sent to your mother.” Aegon clarifies.

Astraea is the way you’ll get your messages across but getting her out will be no problem, and you didn’t expect to be welcomed at the council anyway. The plan was always going to be you using those tunnels your mother used to use. Aemond is the only one you’ll actually disdain.

“You should know,” you mutter to get the last word in, which is bold, to say the least, but you can’t stay quiet after he was touching in that way. “Ser Arryk was killed by Ser Erryk because he was doing his job by protecting the royal family. That’s how I escaped…” you trail off and slowly lift your head to look at Ser Criston with a smugness playing in your eyes.

The Kingsguard briefly meets your gaze before he turns his head away without inputting anything. No one actually says anything in the regard.

Aemond then proceeds to approach you and offer you his hand, but you just glare at him before you turn away and help yourself up to go to Aerion.

“Thank you,” you offer Alicent you’re genuine gratitude before you take back your son.

“Of course,” she says. “I’m glad you’re both back home.”

You offer her a fake faint smile before you turn away and walk back to Aemond to hand him Aerion, who is immediately over the moon by finally being carried by his father. You cannot say the same, you actually make sure to turn away quickly so you wouldn’t have to look him in the eye. Instead, you address the commander who had greeted you outside to avoid a silence.

“Ser, if you would be so kind as to round up your best men tomorrow at the training yards after breaking fast. My son and I need a sworn protector with this war so rampant. If I depend on the new Kingsguard I’ll find my son sold for a flagon of wine or a pretty whore,” you say without shame and watch the knight snicker and glance over at the men you were so boldly speaking of before he looks back at you and responds with a comprehensive nod, letting you not take a second longer to finally try and leave the damn hall and these people. Yet not before you wipe that smile off the commander's face

“Oh and give the list of names of that squadron to Prince Aemond, he would like to know who the men were that shot at my dragon and our child as we were waving that white flag.” You finish and peer back with a serious look that actually turns out to be menacing.

Once you’re out of the hall, you would have liked to say you could catch your breath and find any sense of satisfaction, but the tension is quick to follow you out.

“Vanessa,” you interject after a while of striding toward the royal apartments. “Just grab a change for tonight and tomorrow morning. We can get anything else we need tomorrow.”

Aemond hears your commands and looks away from Aerion to watch you instead.

“And don’t worry about a cradle, Aerion can sleep on my bed tonight,” you continue to give orders, piquing Aemond’s attention even more, and making him forget that child so fascinated by him.

“What are you doing?” Aemond asks, but you ignore him even if you feel ticked off.

“My old chambers are available, we will both stay there. I won’t put Aerion in danger.”

You know deep down Daemon won’t try and hurt your child unless he means to hurt your mother in the meanwhile, but your hatred for him blinds you and makes you see him as a threat even though there’s no real need for such hostility.

“Yes, Princess—”

“No,” Aemond cuts Vanessa off bluntly. “You will not move the Princess or Aerion’s things anywhere. They will not be moving anywhere. They will stay where we are.”

You clench your jaw but continue to ignore his grating presence, as well as Vanessa’s brewing confusion—“Don’t worry about protection, the night will be short tonight because of how late it already is. We will hopefully have that situated by tomorrow—”

“Are you listening to me?” Aemond blurts and catches you off guard when he grabs your wrist and pulls you to a sudden halt so you can face his pointed glare.

Yet you don’t give him the satisfaction of being submissive, or looking away and walking off. Nor do you actually give him what he wants, at that moment you remember that you have to hold back for the sake of your purpose and your Queen. There’s things you want to remark and throw at him as he ruffles your anger, as you look him in the eye and stand so close, but you need to hold back, it has to be helped even if a cascade of memories follows, and have you challenging his glare for a moment before you rip your eyes away and look at your son in his arms to remind him he’s here witnessing it all.

“Vanessa take Aerion for a stroll so he can fall asleep,” Aemond interjects as he holds your gaze. “It’s past his bedtime. We can spend more time with each other on the morrow.”

Vanessa glances at you for the okay, but you don’t look back at her, you keep your eyes on Aemond even if your heartbeat picks up under his heavy gaze, letting her come to the conclusion herself and take Aerion from Aemond.

The boy does begin to whine after being parted from his father, but you don’t stop her either, knowing that there will be tension you don’t want him to see.

“I am not going to stay in the same room as you,” you make yourself clear and pull your arm away to start storming to your shared quarters.

“Do you think I am going to leave you and Aerion vulnerable and all alone?” Aemond counters, making you scoff.

“Does it really matter what happens to me?” You spat back in regards to who he killed, but he chooses to ignore that.

“Of course, it matters. You know that.”

You shake your head in disbelief and continue on quietly, letting him fill the silence for you. “You will stay where you are. It’s where you belong.”

You continue to stay quiet all the way to your shared chambers, which is unlike you, he wants to hear you argue as if that will help cure the strain made by the murder, but you stay quiet and don’t even fill the air with anything when you’re in your room. You just go and try to grab something to sleep in, but he immediately stops you by grabbing your robe and throwing it aside.

“I said no,” he hisses, but you reach for another, making him grab what you pick up and pull back.

“Let go, Aemond, I am not staying here. I am not going to sleep with you!” You bark back and grab his wrist to yank it away, but he rebuttals by grabbing your hand and overpowering you with ease.

“You are staying, and Aerion is staying here where I can protect him and you,” he makes it clear to you, letting you realize as you try to avoid looking at him that Aerion’s cradle is placed at the end of the bed instead of being in his own quarters.

“I do not need you to protect me,” you counter and let go of the robe to try and reach for another, but he crouches down and grabs your arm right where Daemon had grabbed you, and pulls you up.

“Let me go,” you fight him and ignore the ache in your arms as he presses on your bruises. “Don't touch me. Let me go, you're hurting me.”

As soon as Aemond hears those words his grip eases, letting you rebuttal by pushing him away. “Leave,” you cry out and can’t find the strength to hold back anymore, you forget the role you’re meant to play, your purpose for returning, and let your anger burst out from its confinement, resulting in you shoving him back.

“If you don’t want me to leave then you leave. Go. Get out!” You exclaim.

Aemond lets himself get pushed back again and only makes you grow more aggravated that he refuses matching your anger. “I do not want to see you. I do not want you to touch me. I do not…” you trail off and push him back toward a shelf. “I do not want you here. Get. Out.” You innouncate through gritted teeth, but Aemond doesn’t get the hint, he doesn’t care about the anger behind every shove, or the disdain behind every single word.

“He’s gone because of you. My brother is gone!” You finally express what has been stuck in the back of your throat, what really fuels your anger. You finally share the betrayal that you have harbored and that has played in your eyes since you first saw him in that throne room. “Get out!” You raise your voice and shove him back against a wall, but get no reaction in any way. He lets it happen, he watches your anger, and he lets you express it even if it brings violence.

“Get out!” You cry again and hit his chest, hoping he will move, that he will finally stop infuriating you more and react by at least stopping you, but he doesn’t fight back, like usual.

“Out! Out! Get out, Aemond!” You start to lose your cool and hit him more and more, each time your fists getting backed with more strength, while your chest gets heavy, and your eyes finally start to fill with tears as the sorrow you held back breaks out and starts to accompany your anger.

“Fight me back! Fight back you fucking killer. Fight me back!” You shout shakily. “You killed him. You killed Luke. You took my brother away from me. You…” you come to a stop and can’t yell anymore, your throat stings, and your chest starts to ache to the point it gets hard to breathe really fast. “You…”

Aemond watches you move your hands back to go and hit him again, but this time before you can make contact with his chest, he grabs your wrists and pushes you back, making you hold his gaze as he does so and not let go, even if his gaze his heavy and burns in you, even if he pulls you back to him with ease and causes a warmth to wash over you as he holds you close.

“Let me go,” you try not to mewl, but you can’t help it anymore. You can’t hold that anger over your agony. “Let me,” you groan.

Aemond parts his lips but doesn’t end up saying anything, instead he only attracts your eyes to his lips with this need that comes from deep down. You do manage to drag your eyes up after a second but find his gaze heavy and focused on your parted mouth before he lolls his head to the side, and slowly meets your tear-filled eyes.

You proceed to flicker your eyes down and he leans forward, expecting you to pull away, but you stay put as if magnetized to him. As if a slave to your need dwelling deep inside where you don’t want it to be.

“Aemond,” you whisper and his blue eyes find yours, letting you see how dilated his pupils are, but also how soft his eyes are with…distress you can read with ease.

“Why?” You ask in the intimacy of the moment where it’s just you and him, your husband, your lover, and your best friend. “Why did you do it?”

Aemond's eye falls and his lips slowly form a frown. You want to see what he feels, what he fails to say so you tilt your head down to look into his eye and get your answer, but he turns his head away and mutters. “Why did you come back if you hate me?”

“I…” you don’t finish, but you softly shake your head just enough that he notices the motion and peeks over at you.

You need to say it. You need to say what you’ve felt when you were away. He killed Lucerys, your beloved little brother. He hurt your mother and your brother. He betrayed you in the worst way possible. But those feelings you had thought of only sprung up because you weren’t looking at him. It was easy to think you hated him, but now that you’re looking at him, now that you feel his breath unfurl over your lips, and feel his heartbeat under your palm as you press your hand against his chest, you can’t muster a syllable, or conjure it in your heart. No matter how hard you try.

“I did not come for you,” is all you can muster. “I came for Helaena. Not for you.”

And deep under your conflict and your mission that is true. You did come for her in her worst moments where she needs what her family can never give her.

“Hm,” Aemond hums and welcomes a coldness to your wrists as he finally lets you go.

“You did not answer me,” you bring up your previous question. “Why did you do it? He was sent as a messenger, not a warrior. He was just supposed to deliver a message and get an answer, that's all, so why? Did he do something? Did he say something?”

Aemond swallows thickly and his gaze gets hard before he deadpans. “You and Aerion are staying here. I will lock you in here if I have to. Do not make it hard.”

His gaze lingers on you for a second longer before he slips away even if he knows you are waiting for an answer. Just a simple one if need be, something to give you peace of mind, but he goes to the door looking like he isn’t going to stop until you fall on your knees the moment you can’t hold strong anymore. Everything you felt collapses over you and you break down.

Aemond hears your sobs, it unsettles him, and tugs at his heart, but even if you’re the only one who can ever cause such an effect, he doesn’t go to your side even if at that moment you wouldn’t have pushed him away. He lets out a deep breath and leaves you alone.

He doesn’t return until hours later just moments before the sun could break into the sky, finding Aerion fast asleep in his cradle, and you balled up on your side of the bed. He thinks you're asleep, but you couldn’t find it, so you heard him walk in quietly.

You hear him take his belt off, and pull his boots off to be able to approach the end of the bed without alerting the sleeping babe, going unaware at that moment of you peeling one eye open to watch him caress Aerion’s cheek ever so gently as to not wake him before he smiles faintly, causing your own heart to involuntarily pick up in its speed before it jolts when he steps back.

As to not get caught you immediately shut your eye and listen, catching his footsteps go around the bed and approach you.

At first, you think he’s going somewhere else, but his scent then intoxicates you as he stops beside you, causing your racing heart to ease as if his scent was the only key to calm down. He proceeds to stare and you know that you feel that deep down, you feel his eye on your face before it leaves a burning trail down the upper half of your body.

When it comes to your exposed arms that you can’t hide anymore, he hooks his finger on the blanket and gently pulls it down before he runs the tip of his finger on the bruise marked on your flesh, and keeps it there as if the touch alone will give him the answer as to what happened.

After a moment he groans with what seems to be frustration before he lifts his fingers and suddenly surprises you by caressing your cheek before he brings his face down, letting his long silver hair tickle your shoulder, while his breath unfurls over your cheek.

You try not to hold your breath or move, but he makes it hard as he lets the warmth of his lips mingle over your cheek.

Is he going to kiss you or not?

Yes?

No?!

You wait and wait until he suddenly pulls back and his footsteps recede, letting you open your eye to catch him walking around the bed as he takes his vest off, showing how his back muscles move fluidly with him. And thanks to the light starting to peek in you can see how smooth and sculpted he looks under such a soft light.

You want to see his face, his torso, and those perfect abs, but you close your eyes and remember what he’s done, and once again you’re cast with…sorrow.

——

*LATER*

Stupid ache…

“Vanessa, could you have tea prepared for breakfast? I woke up with all different kinds of aches,” you grumble and slip on your shoes. “My head is aching, and I feel a bit nauseous.”

Vanessa hooks the last jeweled chain on your back to the golden broach on the shoulder part of your deep blue gown, and then slowly peeks out from the side with her eyes filled with curiosity. “Princess I have been meaning to ask. When you were in Winterfell…”

Oh is she trying to get the gossip? With everything that went on after you returned from the North, you never had time to tell her what happened.

“Did you…”

Before she can finish what she was building up to the door opens and Aemond walks in with Aerion, making Vanessa groan because once again she was left to hold in her question.

“I will prepare the tea for you princess, but perhaps you should see the maester?” Vanessa purposely says at the wrong time, causing Aemond to peek over—“You did not eat your dinner yesterday because of your stomach ache.”

You side-eye Vanessa, but she doesn’t care that she just blurted your troubles for Aemond to hear, she slides behind you to fix the jeweled chains on your back.

“What’s wrong?” Aemond interjects in your silence.

You drop your eyes to avoid looking at him in the mirror and with your fingers trace the gold design that swirls with the wave patterns on your blue gown.

“Nothing,” you deadpan.

Aemond stays quiet for a second before you hear his footsteps approach you. “I saw bruises on your arms,” he doesn’t hold back from bringing up. “What happened?”

He will ask Vanessa, and she will tell him, so you just answer him in the most serious voice so he knows that his presence bothers you. “Daemon happened. He wanted me to leave and he was not kind about it.”

There's a second of silence before you hear a deep and frustrated sigh. You dare yourself to look up and catch Aemond’s gaze on your arm before he blinks and tries to meet your gaze, but comes up empty-handed when you look at Aerion instead.

“<Did you have a good time, my little dragon?> You speak to him in High Valyrian and watch him wave his hands excitedly.

“My grandmother says he could start eating solids when he’s 5 months old,” you direct at Vanessa, making her step away and nod with a happy smile.

“Yes, it’s possible, he’s starting to sit up alone, so he’s almost there.”

You grin at your child and caress his chin. “<Hear that? We will get you nice and plump in no time. As of now…” you trail off and take him from Aemond to walk away from the mirror. “How would you like to go with Aunt Helaena and your cousin Jaehaera, hm?>”

Aerion responds by reaching for your dangling earrings, so you lean your head away and shake your head, only getting him more intrigued.

“I’m heading to a council meeting,” Aemond says as you continue avoiding him. “I will talk to the maester to come see you later.”

“I can seek the maester myself,” you quip and scrunch your nose at Aerion to try and make him smile.

Aemond stays still and quiet before he walks away. When he reaches the door you peek over and see him stop again before he turns his head, but not completely. He just stands there for a moment with his gaze in the corner of his eye before he just walks out of the room.

“I do not know how I will do it,” you mumble to Vanessa the moment the door closes and he’s walking away. “I can not…pretend to be okay with him. I know I must try, but…I see…what my mind thinks what happened that day, and I get angry and sad.”

Vanessa walks to you to take Aerion and face you with a pitiful frown. “It will be hard, but you will not get anywhere if you do not try. Just take it step by step.”

You sigh deeply and nod softly. “I will leave now too to listen in to the meeting,” you change the subject. “I should make it back for breakfast with Helaena, I should not take long. That’s not my intention anyway.”

“Be careful,” your handmaiden warns you. “Try and remember your way back. Good luck.”

You giggle and pat her shoulder. “I will be alright. I do wish my cat was here though. He would make it easier to make my way around. If anyone asks for me just tell them I went for a stroll to catch my breath.”

Vanessa nods hesitantly and seems to want to input another warning, but she just bites her tongue and watches you walk out the secret door hidden in your quarters

At first, you admit you feel a bit turned around, all the damn tunnels are built almost identically. Plus there’s only the torch that you light as a form of light until you reach small windows, but those aren’t everywhere. Luckily though, you manage to remember where the council hall is. You do arrive a bit later than you hoped, but you got there all the same.

And it seems Ser Criston just arrived too, going off his greeting.

“Forgive my lateness,” you catch Ser Criston interject as he seems to sit down.

“Important business, no doubt,” you cringe at Aegon’s grating voice.

“You appointed new knights to the Kingsguard, Your Grace?”

Ser Criston is barely asking that? They were with the King last night.

Some commander he is.

“To replace those we lost,” Aegon remarks.

“The last one needlessly, some might say,” a man comments quietly but full of judgment. You can’t say you can place a face or a name to the voice though.

“Ser Arryk was awarded the great duty of ending Rhaenyra’s challenge,” Ser Criston argues pointlessly. “He failed to discharge it.”

At least he recognizes that error.

“He failed because the scheme was rash,” you hear the Dowager Queen interject before getting countered by the Commander of the Kingsguard.

“Perhaps, Your Grace but we cannot all hide in our castles waiting for war to come to us.”

You have to admit that it is true, but that does not excuse the stupid act they sent Ser Arryk to do. The Kingsguard protecting your mother aren’t bad at their jobs like he is.

“As now it surely will,” Alicent quips.

“As, now,” Aemond interrupts the bickering, managing to catch your breath in your throat at the mere sound of his voice. “It already has. House Bracken took it upon themselves to attack the Blackwoods who declared for the pretender. Lord Samwell Blackwood himself is slain.”

“Good,” Aegon says. “First blood in our name.”

Ugh, idiot.

“Both sides took heavy losses, Your Grace,” you recognize Ser Tyland made a point the King failed to see. “I-I’m not entirely certain we can declare this victory—”

“The Blackwoods and the Brackens had feuded for centuries. This is nothing more than an excuse for them to indulge their ancient grudge. It’s no true war.”

A sudden pound against the table shuts the speaking Lord up and makes you press yourself closer to the wall.

“Call it what you will,” Aegon follows by saying, making him the one who pounded whatever it was on the table's surface. “I call it war. And so will Dragonstone. The question is, what are we going to do about it?”

What is there to do? It was a stupid squabble between feuding families. There’s no significant point behind that bloodbath.

“We send a raven to Lord Tully,” you hear the maester come up with a solution amongst the other heads around the table. “These houses are his vassals, are they not? He must control them.”

“Lord Grover Tully is a flaccid, old fool who couldn’t control his cock in a cunny,” the Lord you don’t recognize cuts in with a hint of judgment. “Begging your pardon, Your Grace.”

“Do you have any better suggestions, Lord Jasper?” Aegon asks and once and for all brings a name and face to the voice.

“Your Lord Uncle Ormund marches from Old Town at the head of a great host, Your Grace,” the Lord rebuttals. “And your brother Daeron’s dragon nears fighting age. Call on them to suppress the Riverlands.”

Yes with Caraxes and Daemon going to the Riverlands? Tessarion would get ripped to shreds, he’s no more experienced than your dragon.

“At least they are months away,” Ser Tyland interjects. “My Lord brother Jason is raising a great army at Casterly Rock. In a matter of weeks, he will be able to harass the Blackwoods from the west—”

“Should we not aim to unite these armies?” You’re surprised to hear the maester give his opinion. “And then strike as one?”

He has a point. One big army is better than small ones.

“Ah,” Ser Tyland interrupts as he laughs mockingly. “The great military mind of the Citadel. Do remind me—”

Oh gods can this get any more childish?

Here instead of questioning the ruler they bicker with each other.

“This council must rediscover the discipline it lately had if its to be of any use,” Alicent thankfully shuts them up.

“The Riverlands are the key to the war,” Ser Criston moves the meeting forward over his rattling armor. “Harrenhal is the key to the Riverlands. I will ride out with those I can muster here. Men I know, men I’ve trained.”

Your interest finally piques and you push yourself off the wall to lean your ear close to the gaps on the wall that look in the council room.

“You need time to raise the numbers to challenge the Rivermen,” Alicent makes a smart point, but Ser Criston doesn’t seem to see it that way.

“Speed is my ally. I will turn the Crownland houses who declared for Rhaenyra to our cause. We will add their numbers to our own then turn west. Where I will enlist the Brackens, subdue the Riverlands, and take Harrenhal.”

Well, that’s a mighty goal. Smart yet a bit far-fetched.

“So impatient to ride with so few men,” Alicent says. “So like to be destroyed by the first stronghold you meet. A bold scheme indeed.”

Yes, especially because Daemon is also currently going to take the Riverlands as well.

“Well, the gods favor the bold,” Ser Criston quips a stupid comment that Alicent thankfully strikes down.

“They did not favor Ser Arryk.”

Ser Criston chuckles before he turns to get the favor from a war-thirsty mongrel. “What say you, my King?”

“And you’ll take Aemond and Vhagar?” Aegon asks, making you hold your breath out of anticipation as to what the response will be.

“Vhagar will remain here,” Ser Criston immediately lets you breathe, and doesn’t let the running thoughts that were building up, rush out and make a mess in your mind—“to defend the city.”

“Good. To war then,” Aegon exclaims, making Ser Criston hum in agreement and get the approval he was seeking for from the king.

“I’ll come, too, with Sunfyre,” Aegon continues making your lips twitch.

“Aegon,” Alicent calls out in protest.

“Your Grace.”

“You’ll need a dragon,” Aegon quickly throws out, making Ser Criston argue back.

“My plan is not to draw attention.”

“And-and what will you do if you encounter one or more of Rhaenyra’s dragons?” Aegon asks and you can’t help but answer in your mind that he’ll hopefully die.

“She’ll want to answer for Ser Arryk,” Aegon adds.

“We will be more like to encounter one if we field one of our own,” Ser Criston tries to make it clear to Aegon.

“That is precisely why you must remain, brother,” Aemond says calmly which actually surprises you. You would’ve thought he would volunteer to fight with Vhagar. “It’s a brave thought, but we cannot risk your loss.”

You smile in amusement at his words obviously not laced with genuine care.

“I’m as fearsome as any of them,” Aegon argues, making you stifle your laugh during the short and awkward silence that follows.

“We must also raise the matter on…” Lord Jasper interjects hesitantly after. “The Princess’s arrival. It is ominous, to say the least, and suspicious considering how much Rhaenyra coddles her children. We must press her for what she knows. If it’s true that she has switched loyalties—”

“No,” Aemond counters, making your heart skip a beat. “You will not do such a thing. I will talk to my wife.”

“We have already discussed all the matters with the princess herself,” Alicent interjects. “Her dragon will be put in the dragonpit, and we will keep a watchful eye on her.”

No tongues rise on the matter because no one wants to face Aemond’s wrath because he, unlike Aegon, has proven himself to be fearsome.

Nevertheless, you use this as your cue to leave and return to your quarters before you can be caught, finding it a much easier venture back than when you came. You surely do relieve Vanessa of any stress she harbored as she dramatically over-worried herself that you would get yourself lost.

“We should head out now,” you don’t take a moment to catch your breath or write the first letter to your mother about what you just heard.

“Is everything all right?” Vanessa queries.

You take Aerion from her and nod. “Things are as good as they will be at the moment. I need to send a letter to my mother to let her know what Ser Criston is going to do. Hopefully, Aemond is not clinging today.”

“We can always find a way to part from him,” Vanessa looks at the bright side. “It does not seem like he will be around much with this war needing constant attention.”

You scoff as you walk out of your room. “You would be surprised,” you mutter in return.

The moment you are out of your room and head to Helaena’s new chambers, you feel a sense of nervousness knot your already nauseous stomach, and rush through your veins to the point your hands begin to tremble at the thought of facing Helaena; seeing her grief, and seeing her pair of twins be left to one child.

It was not so long ago when you would both escape to your little Island with your dragons and her children. Now those are tainted memories of what she doesn’t have anymore.

What if she thinks you betrayed her and hates you for it?

You would understand, you would obviously try and explain that it wasn’t you so she knows she’s not alone in her grief, that she has you in the same way she has had you for the past year, but ultimately you would not blame her. It was Daemon, your family, your infamous side who killed her child.

Yet no matter how much your thoughts pester you, or how much you want to turn tail and return to your quarters, you’re more daring when it comes to her. You do hesitate a moment as you stand outside of her door with Aerion in your arms, but after beating down what’s making you hesitate, you knock and let your presence know.

Silence passes for a few minutes making you think you came too late, but then a few seconds later the door is opened by one of her ladies-in-waiting, leaving a clear view of her to you, and you to her.

“Good morning,” you greet softly as you walk in, seeing her put down what she’s sewing before she slowly meets your gaze with puffy eyes, but no tears brimming within. Her grief is clearly painted but it does not seem to bring her down like you thought it would. Still, you don’t feel any less guilty or sorry.

“Good morning,” she greets in return and then finds your son in your arms. “Good morning to you Aerion.”

The baby watches her before his eyes dart to Jaehaera and he becomes instantly infatuated with the little girl, so much so that he throws himself back against you out of glee.

“Someone’s happy to see you,” you direct at Jaehaera approaching you.

“Me?” She points at her chest and then flashes a grin that grows wider when you crouch so Aerion can be at her level.

“Hello Aerion,” she tells the baby and gently grabs his hand, making the baby firmly grab onto her.

“I missed you,” she tells him and shakes his little fist, making him slowly try and bring her hand to his mouth.

“He’s strong,” she comments with a giggle before she pulls her hand away and looks at you. “Can I play with him?”

“He’s a babe,” Helaena points out to her daughter, making her sigh.

“Well,” you try to console her. “He can sit with you and he can happily watch you play while he plays with some of toys of his own. You have to wait until he’s older so he can play with you.”

Jaehaera frowns, but she doesn’t argue. “All right then.”

You flash her a smile and stand to your given height to give Aerion to one of the wetnurses, so they can take the children to a different corner of the room while you talk to Helaena before your breakfast gets here.

“I planned to have breakfast a bit unexpectedly, I hope that’s all right,” you direct at Helaena who is watching her daughter for a moment before her eyes drift back to you.

“There’s no problem,” she assures you, making you nod gently before you grab your hands and fiddle with your fingers as you carefully think of what to say.

“Helaena,” you whisper, making her hum to probe innocently.

Before you can continue you briefly glance at her sitting on a couch before you go and sit next to her, making her turn to face you as you continue to struggle with how to tell her everything you feel in the bottom of your heart.

“I…I’m sorry,” you say what you have already told so many people, yet it’s not something you will get tired of saying because you can’t help or ignore your guilt, nor does this grief end. It keeps coming and coming.

“I’m sorry for what happened to Jaehaerys,” your voice quivers, and tears, the one thing you are tired of, well in your eyes, making them sting. “I’m sorry for what happened to you.”

Helaena’s eyes fall on her hands, and her lips fall to a small frown that only tears at your wounded heart even more.

“I know it must be hard, but I cannot be here and not come tell you that I am deeply sorry,” you continue as she stays quiet, and slowly reach for her hand. You know she’s not fond of intimacy, but you don’t overstep, you just drop your hand on hers, and she doesn’t move it away at that moment. Her hands stiffen but she lets you hold her hand.

“You and your children did not deserve that, he did not deserve that. I’m sorry,” you add softly, making her trail her eyes up to meet yours.

“But it is not your fault,” she says and surprises you. “You did not do it. Why are you sorry?”

You part your lips but can’t muster a thing, instead, you drop your head and lick the salty tears that roll down your cheeks and fall on your lips.

“Because it was not fair,” you bring up what you feel. “Because…it was a cruel thing to do, and agonizing to go through. Because…I know who sent those killers to you.”

A silence follows where Helaena slips her hand over yours and carefully wraps your hand with hers, making you blink repeatedly in disbelief before you meet her gaze with that same emotion in your eyes.

“It was still not your fault,” she presses ever so sweetly. “You did not send those killers, nor did you commit the act. I do not blame you, nor do I hate you.”

Your breath catches and a smile slowly tugs on your lips as your tense body eases with the relief that washes over you.

“I’m here for you, you know that? If you need someone to talk to, or a shoulder to cry on, I’m here for you. Always. I love you Helaena.”

She nods softly and offers you the sweetest smile that reminds you of the sweetest spring days. “I know,” she whispers.

You don’t expect her to say it in return, but you know her true feelings with the hand still wrapped around you.

“Why are you here though?” She suddenly blurts.

“I-I,” you pause out of confusion, but give her a clear answer. “I’m here for you.”

Helaena shakes her head and pulls her hand away. “You are not listening, why are you here? You should not have come.”

Your tears dry, and your confusion leaves no trace of the joy you were just beginning to feel

“I see it,” she presses and leans towards you. “A crown on a black veil.” She nods as if that helped you in some way. It only leaves you lost and a bit concerned.

“Okay…” you just give her the satisfaction of an answer to not leave things awkward. “Breakfast should be—”

And just as you’re going to finish, the doors open and servants with breakfast come in.

“I think Aemond missed you,” Helaena interjects while the breakfast is being placed. “And Aerion. He had his cradle moved after what happened with Jaehaerys.”

“Yes,” you mumble. “So I saw.”

Helaena gets off her seat and you mirror her to follow her to the round table, finding that breakfast looks unappetizing. The food looks good, but the nauseousness you feel is still lingering within you.

“Helaena I was thinking perhaps you could accompany me to select my new sworn protector,” you fill the silence as you take a seat. “I think getting out of your room and taking some air would be nice. Besides, I think a nice stroll in the gardens afterward would be nice, the weather is agreeable.”

Helaena sits beside you rather than in any other empty seat and looks at you before she queries. “What of the new Kingsguard that Aegon appointed? Why don’t you pick one of them?”

You meet her gaze and giggle before you look at the tea you requested getting placed in front of you. “No,” you put it simply. “One, that would be pretty foolish and Aemond would never allow that.”

She hums and the corner of her lips twitches. “I’m sure if Aemond could, he would be stuck to you like a shadow.”

You laugh softly and nod. “He tries.”

“I hope you and him reconcile,” she says. “It’s nice seeing him laugh with you.”

You swallow thickly and answer honestly. “I think it will be hard forgiving him for what he did.”

She hums and says one last thing. “Just do not wait too long, okay?”

Your heart skips a beat and your eyebrows furrow but you offer her a soft smile and nod. “Okay.”

She holds your gaze a second longer before she reaches over to serve herself some food. You try and do the same, but your stomach stops you from really desiring anything.

Helaena notices your reluctance and interjects as she leans toward you. “You should eat, it’s not good for the babes if you do not.”

Your eyes widen and slowly meet her gaze expressing only utter disbelief. “What?” You deadpan.

All Helaena does is offer you a simple smile before she starts eating, leaving you overcome with confusion, even if deep down what she said starts to make sense; Your over-exhaustion, your stomachaches, and headaches.

And it would track, Aemond and you did have sex before you left for Dragonstone, but…Cregan and you…

No…that’s a possibility you do not want to think about, and he’s always careful, and you…did not take Moontea this time, but it can’t be true, him being related is especially not true.

IF what Helaena said was true the babes are Aemond’s. And that’s even if Helaena is telling the truth, sometimes she has the tendency to say things that don’t make sense. Just like this, it's all just a jumble of words.

You will choose to believe that until you talk to someone who can actually prove it. Until then you pay all your focus on your breakfast with Helaena and keep yourself even more busy with choosing your sworn protector already discreetly picked by Daemon of all people.

You did not think he would care that much as to pay someone to keep you and your son safe, but here you are now standing on a balcony over a courtyard, hearing metal sing over the chaos playing all about the castle as men prepare to go to war with Ser Criston.

Usually, men just line up, and someone shares their achievements and a summary of how they became so high ranked and so on, but that all sounded so boring and you have lacked fun so you chose for a not-so-commonly picked choice and had them just demonstrate their skill.

“Perhaps there’s no need for such a show of violence,” Helaena gives her opinion as she stays back in her seat. “Go with the man Aemond wants you to pick.”

You roll your eyes and shake your head. “No,” you deadpan and cross your arms over the railing to lean your head over and watch as a man with short black curly hair suddenly pulls his cloak off to hurl it at his opponent and blind him.

You grin at his quick thinking and watch this tall, well-built man kick his opponent back while he’s blinded and trying to take the cloak off his face, resulting in the cloak to slip off but a few seconds too late because the intriguing man pulls out a dagger and thrust forward.

Albeit the opponent blocks his attempts with his arm, making you unfold your arms to press your hands on the cold stone and push yourself forward out of excitement.

The man proceeds to use his arm to dismantle his opponent's block by shoving his arm away, before he quickly grabs his arm and spins around him to be able to wrap his other arm around his opponent's neck, and point the tip of his dagger at an artery; with that finishing the last match, and making you beam and clap.

“Well fought!” You exclaim, causing the man to let go of his opponent so they can both face you and bow their heads. “What’s your name Ser?”

The man you called on lifts his head and you meet the most mesmerizing blue eyes that remind you of the bluest sea water.

“Ser Jason Waters, Princess,” he announces, making your grin twitch as you realize that this tall man below is the man Daemon hired for you.

“A bastard from King’s Landing,” the commander beside you whispers in your ear as if that affects his quick thinking or his battle experience—“Go with Ser Aldous from the Crownlands. That’s the man your Lord husband thought capable. He has battle experience, and he is well-honed.”

You scoff and give him the same attitude you just gave Helaena. “I do not care what my Lord Husband wants, and bastard or not that does not affect Ser Jason’s skill. Tell me his triumphs.”

The man hesitates but responds with what you asked for. “He fought at the Stepstones when he was ten-and-six with Prince Daemon until the war ended.”

You look over to flash the man a smile as you hit your palms on the stone. “See, he has battle experience too.” You look back at the man and focus your eyes on the scar that travels from the right corner of his forehead and all across his face to end on the left corner of his jaw.

“Tell me, Ser Jason, how did you get your scar?” You probe with genuine curiosity. “My grandfather Lord Corlys says a scar is always a story. What is your story?”

Ser Jason huffs lightly and glances down with a small smile that carves adorable and deep dimples on his cheeks.

“I,” he clears his throat and bats his lashes before he faces you. “I fought a Dothraki Screamer after I departed from the Stepstones.”

Your eyes widen and you quickly poke him for more with a bit too much excitement. “A Dothraki Screamer? Really?!”

He nods. “He almost took my face but I ended up winning,” he boasts with a shy smile. “Not that I am saying it was easy. It was…it was difficult.”

Your smile widens at his stumble of words before you look at the Commander. “Has Ser Aldous fought a Dothraki screamer and won?”

The commander sighs and argues. “But Prince Aemond—”

“I will make sure Prince Aemond does not take his anger out on you. I made this choice, I am capable of choosing a worthy protector for me and my child,” you interject to assure him, but then Helaena breaks her silence by calling your name before giving her opinion.

“Maybe you should listen to Aemond. I do not think Ser Jason is a wise choice.”

Her eyes snap to the man she can see through the gaps of the railing, and draws in a deep short breath before meeting your gaze and breathing out.

“You worry,” you tell her. “Just like, my Aemond. It’s okay.”

Helaena holds your gaze for a second longer with a very hard and pressuring look before she drops her head and nods stiffly.

“Let me just close this matter up and we can go for our stroll,” you assure her and return your attention to Ser Jason. “I will see you on the Morrow for your first day, Ser Jason. Thank you. And thank you to the rest of you, do not worry I am sure your skill will still be needed, I will make sure to recommend you to good positions.”

The other knights bow their heads to express their gratitude, but you focus on the man in the middle and understand now why Daemon chose him of all people to protect you and Aerion while you’re here in the jaws of the enemy. He’s well-traveled and has been holding a sword since he was a boy.

You have to give Daemon his flowers for this one thing.

“Thank you, Princess,” Ser Jason speaks up with his head raised and a crooked smile on his lips. “You bring me a great honor. I will protect you and yours with my life. I will not let you down. I will guard you even from the shadows that lurk in the night, and the cowards who call themselves men.”

You offer him a faint appreciative smile and as his crooked smile falls to a soft and gentle one, his blue eyes seem to deepen more, bringing this innocent look on his face that slowly pulls your smile down as you’re reminded of your sweet brother, Lucerys.

He would have been Lord if he had lived to be older. He could have had many different dangerous experiences like this man, he could have grown as sweet looking as this man, and held great achievements like this man, but he can’t. He was taken before he could really live a life of his own. Now you’re left just looking at this man below and getting reminded of what can’t flourish because Aemond made sure to kill it.

“Thank you, Ser Jason,” you offer the man softer than before and give him one last smile before you turn to try and leave. However, before you can you catch this certain familiar gleam in his eyes that steals your attention for a lingering second before you rip your eyes away and finally give Helaena all your attention.

“Now my Sweet aunt,” you probe as you hold your hands before you. “Why do you doubt Ser Jason?”

Helaena glances at you with a bit of surprise because you’re asking her for her thoughts that others would have disregarded.

“I just,” she says and turns her head away as she holds her hands. “I have a bad feeling about him.”

You take in what she says and quickly try to reassure her. “It’s normal to doubt people now more than ever, we are at war and tragedy has befallen everyone, but we cannot live our lives paranoid. But I will tell you what, I will be cautious, okay?”

Helaena nods softly and you add a remark. “Plus, the knight Aemond picked was old don’t you think?”

Helaena giggles and nods. “He was.”

“I’m sure it was done on purpose,” you comment on your husband's jealousy.

“You think?” Helaena asks, making you nod with a teasing smile playing on your lips.

“I know so. Now,” you change the subject to something she likes. “Tell me what have you caught as of late?”

Helaena’s shoulders release from their tense hold and her eyes glimmer for the first time. “I caught fireflies the other day by the pond, but I think they’re too beautiful to keep, so I let them go.”

You hum and feed her interests. “They are quite fascinating, they’re like little stars.”

She hums and carefully holds some of your fingers, making your heart happily skip a beat. “Did you know that they flash their lights for different stuff? Like when they’re trying to attract a mate, or deceiving others,” she muses. “And many people mistake them for flies or bugs, but they are beetles in truth.”

You hum. “I did not know that,” you share.

“Well, now you do.”

You giggle and nod. “Yes, I do. Now I think if I could be any insect I think I would be an orchid mantis. They are very beautiful.”

Helaena laughs softly and lolls her head towards you. “You’re funny.” She says, making you smirk.

You end up taking the long way to the gardens and find yourselves walking through the training yard that is flooded with men all preparing to go off to war, but halting the moment they all spot Queen Helaena walking by. All except for one man in bulky silver and green armor; he walks away from his horse with a half-smug smile on his face. And it's only when you get closer that you start to predict who he might be just going off the flaming tower on his chest plate.

“My Queen,” he finally pays his respects and bows his head. “And…” he leaves room for you to introduce yourself, and you do, making his eyes brighten and the smile turn more smug.

“Ah, the Realms Golden Girl, how nice it is to meet you at long last,” he rolls out of his tongue with a sense of cheekiness, but not filled with deceit, more so like he’s trying to seduce you.

But, as charming as he does speak, he can’t reel you in. You smile, but you also glance at Helaena in confusion, yet she doesn’t seem to understand you asking for help, so the man before you bows his head at you before he finally introduces himself; “I am Ser Gwayne Hightower.”

Ah, Alicent’s brother.

“It is an honor to meet you. I have heard a great deal about you,” you just say out of respect but you could care less even if he is a bit handsome for a Hightower.

“Hm,” he hums with a growing smirk. “In all my comings and goings never have I met such an enchanting beauty,” he flatters you and you can’t help but show off a shy smile—“my nephew is a lucky man.”

You scoff softly and he leans closer. “I am going off to battle with the Lord's Hand…”

You scoff at the title given to such an unqualified man and he seems to catch your drift and matches your mocking smile before he continues.

“I would fight more fiercely if you granted me your hand,” he speaks smoothly, but you still don’t fall prey to his attempts. Albeit you do give him your hand and watch him gently bring your hand up to his lips to press a gentle kiss on your knuckles.

Once he lets go of you his smug smirk deepens.

“I wish you well in your travels, Ser, I hope to see you again,” you offer him even if deep down you do not mean it at all and you pray and hope for his and all their downfalls. “Now if you will excuse me, the Queen and I have to go.”

“Of course.” He bows his head at you before drifting his attention to Helaena one more time. “My Queen.”

She offers him a faint smile before she pulls you away with her to finally get away from the clustered place and walk through quieter spaces until you both find joy and peace in the castle gardens.

Winter is coming, like the Stark’s like to say, but the garden does not lack life. It’s a lively contrast to the chaos ascending everywhere, and a peaceful escape where you can admire the vibrant autumn flowers that show their beauty off like stars at night. The trees are bare with the leaves rusting and breaking away, but the vibrant leaf colors that litter the ground steal the attention from its emptiness. The only thing that does make the garden feel lackluster is the lack of roses. They don’t bloom like they do Winterfell.

“Look,” Helaena calls for your attention and makes you tear your gaze away from the calm sea in the distance. “An orchid.” She shows off the beautiful light pink flower before she drops it on your lap. “Now you’re one step closer to becoming an orchid mantis.”

You burst out laughing and she giggles with you.

“You know,” you add after you catch your breath. “I have this gown I have been meaning to wear. It has blue winter roses embroidered on the corset and on the borderlines of the skirt. It is very beautiful. We should have a gown designed for you of your favorite flower so we could show off together.”

Helaena hums and nods. “I would like that.”

“Good.” You say with a smile and stand back up to continue down the gardens, coming to find Lord Larys Strong wandering around the pond.

“Your Grace. Princess,” he greets and bows his head.

You offer him a faint smile in return and steal a glance around before addressing him. “Enjoying the kind weather?”

He hums. “Making the best of it before winter comes.”

“All we will get is light snows and bitter winds this far South,” you bring up and walk closer to him with Helaena falling behind. “We will live.”

“I suppose winters here don’t compare to those in the North,” he says, and you shake your head lightly before peering back to watch Helaena slowly make her way to you.

“I would just like to say that it is odd seeing you and Prince Aemond be so estranged,” he says and slowly drifts back to him. “Not long ago you were almost inseparable.”

You avert your gaze and purse your lips together before you mutter your comment. “Well, sadly there are matters that create a strain.”

“I am sorry to hear about your brother's passing, it was such a tragic affair.”

Your eyes snap up and rather than expressing gratitude, you hardened your gaze to pass him a warning glare so he can tread carefully.

“Marriage is a complicated thing, more so with a war that tears your gaze between two sides, and secrets that lurk beneath the surface,” he doesn’t listen, he’s bold, so you lift your chin and make your glare more menacing.

Lord Larys catches the threat behind your glare and checks that Helaena is distracted by what’s in the pond before he quietly brings a point to this babble.

“I just hope Prince Aemond’s frequent brothel visits are not the secret truly keeping you apart.”

Your heart drops and every attempt to be seen as menacing falls flat. Instead, anguish begins to surface, it takes your attention and leaves you lost in thought for the rest of the day.

And you know you have no reason to be upset after you lay with Cregan. You shouldn’t care because you hate Aemond after he killed Lucerys, but knowing he went to see other women, imagining him kissing another woman, and picturing him looking at them the same way he looks at you; like there’s only you and no one else, like you’re all that’s beautiful in the world, crushes your heart.

You don’t want him touching anyone else with the same gentle touch he blesses you with. You don’t want someone else tasting the sweetness of his lips, or seeing how completely vulnerable and loving he can be. You don’t like that someone else is seeing parts of him that are only meant for you. You don’t want him to admire someone the way he admires you.

You want to be the only one he finds beautiful, you want him to only love you, just like it always has been. You don’t want to share him.

Yet you also can’t be so selfish. You know what you did, and the bad thing is you don’t regret it. You shouldn’t expect loyalty when you broke it first. You can’t be seething in jealousy when you were the one who kissed another man and became intimate with him. That’s selfish too, and you can’t be selfish.

But oh!

You can’t stop tormenting yourself with images of Aemond kissing other women, and other women kissing him. You see it in the books you try to read to keep yourself distracted and hear the sounds of his pleasure in the crackle of the fires that gives light to your chambers and also keeps it warm. You’re tormented by the ugliness that is jealousy, and also getting torn apart between not deserving to be jealous. And him coming into the room does not make it easier because now you’re also plagued by memories of what he did.

You’ll probably find yourself broken down soon enough.

“Where’s Aerion?” Aemond asks first as he takes some weight off him by putting his sword aside.

“With your mother,” you deadpan and flip mindlessly through a different book. “She wanted to spend time with him and Jaehaera.”

Aemond hums and he then approaches you to lean over the couch and try and give you a peck on the cheek, but you lean away, leaving his lips to meet a cold emptiness.

He proceeds to linger the way you left him before he purses his lips and steps away with a deep sigh.

“I see you are still playing at that game,” he says boldly and pulls your attention away from the book to lift your head and focus on nothing in particular as you run over what just came out of his mouth.

When you know you heard him right a crease carves in between your eyebrows as they pinch together, your eyes narrow and almost seem to emit flames with the rage that makes you forget the purpose you really came. That’s all meaningless now as you shut the book and throw it on the couch before you get up and spin around to snap back. “Game? Is this some jest to you, Aemond?”

Said man slips his eyepatch off and throws it on the table, choosing not to feed the dragon he already stirred awake.

“Tell me? Was killing my brother some game to you?” You don’t hold back and march around the couch to get closer, but he keeps getting away as he works to take his leather vest off.

“Is my grief, my guilt, some game to you? You know I-I couldn’t even face my mother, or-or Rhaena, because of what you did? I blamed myself!” You throw at his back which moves further and further away. “Is that funny? Do you think I can just forget and pretend everything is alright? Like-like you did not break my heart in the worst way possible?!”

Aemond finally stops walking away, but he doesn’t turn around or speak, and that only triggers your anger to get more heated.

“Aemond?” You call out so you can get something, a hum if that’s what he wants to give, whatever, you just want a response to let you know he’s paying attention.

“Tell me. Is all I am, is all I feel is some game to you?”

His head slowly lowers, and angry tears form in your eyes while you start to believe what you’re accusing him of in his lingering silence.

“Tell me…because if I am…” you trail off and don’t finish because you fear accepting that it will be true. “Aemond,” you call out again in a broken voice and with a burning glare that falters while you storm over to him and stop halfway. “Aemond,” you whisper before your nose furls and you cry out desperately and with frustration laced within. “Aemond!”

Said man slowly turns on his heels with his eye glossy and downcast, his lips out in a pout, and his eyebrows formed in a shaky furrow.

“No,” is what he says under his breath but doesn’t dare look you in the eyes, he’s like a wounded boy filled with fear. Not of what lurks in the shadows, or of some great fear; he’s afraid of what will come out of the scolding, afraid that he will be received with disappointment and a cold shoulder.

“No what?” You press to know and step closer. “No I’m not some joke to you, or no you did not mean to betray me in that way?”

“Bloodshed was inevitable, if not me, it would’ve been someone else,” he brings out his first excuse.

“Okay,” you whisper and nod in understanding while you turn away and hold your hands as you take in what he said. “Okay.”

“You are not a joke,” he responds to your other question as he finally breaks away from the spot he was stuck to. “My intention was not to hurt you. You know that. You of all people in this fucking world is all that matters to me. Ever since I was young and got pushed around for being different. You,” he makes that word clear with a sense of a deep meaning, no deceit, devotion and passion. “I did not want to hurt you. I did not mean what I did…” he trails off in a whisper that wouldn’t have been audible if the room wasn’t cast in silence.

Yet does that really mean anything now that he did it? He can’t take back what he did, he can’t bring back Lucerys because he did not mean it. It still hurts and he can’t take that pain away with those words.

“All those times,” your voice quivers as your heart speaks for you. “…I spent missing you, wanting to come back home to you, and for what?” You say to the tension in the room and hear his lips part before his steps hit the ground louder and louder as he makes his way before you.

When you’re face to face, heart facing the others heart, his long and slender fingers reach for your face, but because of the violence done to you in the past days you pull your head back, making his hands freeze and tense for a second before he tries again and this time makes contact with your warm cheeks, providing more warmth that you can’t help but melt into.

You do hesitate looking into his eye because you know what you will see will only make your heart sing, but he demands your attention and tilts your head up to meet his gaze. At that moment letting you see the sweet man you have always loved, a soft and enamored man who shows his tender affection in his eye that gleams like the full moon itself.

“I sent you letters,” he brings up softly and glances at your lips as his breath catches.

You part your lips and feel a desire slowly take hold of you, but you are not done, he can’t just shut you up with sweet words, so you quickly rebuttal with an icy quip. “Full of empty words.”

You resisted what you otherwise would have fallen trap to and reel away from Aemond to face him with a serious look that falters between anguish.

“But what could I expect? You only wrote for 1 year when I was in Winterfell…”

“That again,” he mutters and drops his hands on his thighs as he shakes his head.

You scoff and nod angrily. “Yes, this again! Because I waited, you were my best friend! And I was alone! All I wanted was reassurance from you, and you left me alone…and now all I wanted was you to tell me what you feel, I would have loved the truth, but,” you pause and feign a laugh. “You led me on like you did nothing. Like you were doing nothing when in reality you killed my brother and lay with whores,” you spat out. You did not mean to. You wanted to hold it just for the sake of not sounding bitchy and hypocritical, but it hurts not knowing why HE did what he did.

Was he looking for just one little excuse to be with someone else? Have you not been enough? Were you not giving him enough attention? Enough love? Are you not beautiful enough for him?

It’s true you talked to Cregan in your year here, but only as friends before and after you married Aemond. You missed him but only when you felt alone here, but after Aemond made you feel loved, Cregan was a sweet memory of a first love. And now? You were hurt, you wanted to feel loved after getting your heart torn from your chest. You do not regret because that will tear you apart, and you do not want to deny what you did. You did it; you take responsibility for it, you won’t regret it especially because you felt happy in a dark tormenting storm…

But Aemond?

“Who told you?” He demands to know and at that moment proves Lord Larys’ accusation right.

“It does not matter who told me,” you sneer through gritted teeth. “You did it…You do it.”

Aemond drops his eye and his lips curl to a snarl before he answers firmly. “Not since you returned.”

You shouldn’t but you feel like someone is just crushing your heart.

“No…then what about last night? When you left.” You press for more even if the little voice in your head is telling you to stop fishing for more.

“You did not want to see me, remember?” He sasses you. “Was I supposed to stay here just to have you glaring at me?”

You snap your eyes to him and narrow your glare, making him avert his gaze and answer quieter.

“I was with Ser Criston for a time before I took care of those men that shot at your dragon while our son was strapped on your chest.”

The corner of your lips twitch, but that does nothing to win you over.

“And the other times,” he continues and takes a step forward to close the gap left between you by grabbing your face and forcing you to meet his gaze. “Meant nothing. It was nothing but comfort while I was tormented. I did not touch her the way I touch you, I did not kiss her in any way, my heart, my lips are yours. I am yours. It meant nothing,” he makes clear by pouring out his heart, and bringing tears to your eyes.

Yet your tears aren’t out of relief that he gifted you the confession that his heart only yearns for you. You start to cry out of guilt and…regret.

You did not want to feel regret. It was a cemented knowledge, but you are the bad person here. You are horrible for becoming one flesh with another man, for feeling love and appreciation for someone else who is not your husband. Perhaps what Aemond did was bad too, his affair was emotional, but that night your heart belonged to Cregan, and now…if what Helaena said was true then your sin might come to life.

How could you be so horrible?

Why did you have to dig for the truth? It would have been better if you just simmered in your jealousy, but now?

Gods.

You turn your head away to not face him, but he just moves his head in search of your teary eyes. And when he finds your gaze he wipes the tears off your cheeks and parts his lips. Yet nothing comes out but a punctured breath as his eye grows tender and bright like the stars and the moon that reign the sky, but infinitely more beautiful, and just for you to admire and cherish.

Profound enamourment also fills his eye and only works to make his confession of love louder without any need for words.

If only you could give it all in return. You can’t share that intense love because resentment and hatred are still very much alive in your heart. Besides, now guilt for what you did takes a space within you, only further pushing that affection.

“Come with me,” he beckons, much to your surprise.

“Where?” You ask.

“Out,” he only surprises you more. “In the city.”

You scoff. Is he being serious? Or is this some jest? He says the city at night is for delinquents to rage, you always have to force him out with you to do something fun.

“We shouldn’t, I—”

“Now it’s you who’s protesting,” he cuts you off with the corner of his lips perked. “Just come with me for the night. Please.”

You lower your face and remark. “You do not like going into the city. I always have to beg you to come out at night. Then again you have been out, so.” you remark bitterly.

Aemond slides his hands down to hold your shoulders and even if he is annoyed at your remark he insists. “I…just want to show you some fun,” he uses your own persuading words against you purposely.

“Aemond,” you protest and he grabs your face again to pull you towards him, making your eyes flicker to his lips just a hairsbreadth away, calling for your warmth and taste to reunite and mold back together like a missing puzzle piece.

“Please,” he insists softly and pulls away to offer you his hand.

You glance at his hand offering you an attempt at a rekindle and then look back at his eye and the sapphire glimmering against the candlelight, and it's almost like it's giving a hopeful glow in the same way his eye, his lips, and eyebrows express the hope that you will accept.

A part of you says no, you will worsen your guilt, and it won’t be fun if you’re bitter and hold resentment with each word, but also another part of you is too curious and intrigued by the fact that he's the one offering you a night out first and not the other way around.

Both sides fight a short bloody fight, with one choice coming out triumphant. But deep down was it so hard to choose?

As if attracted to a dark calling of temptation you give him your hand.

.

.

.

.

A/N- No don’t take us out into the city Aemond, you’re so sexy and smitten aha 🫣

Tagged- @namelesslosers @stargaryenx @chainsawsangel @lauftivy @winxschester @cloudroomblog @llarue @padsdarlg @sofietargaryen @gracielikegrapes @dreaming-of-the-reality @itzelpeyton @patdsinner33 @mrsdominickstark @elaena-aerrin @todoroki-slut @snh96 @urmomsgirlfriend1 @nifujiswhore @sweethoneyblossom1 @kaetastic @lightdragonrayne @squidscottjeans @oh-you-mean-me @wallacewillow0773638 @icefrye19 @callsignwidow @thescottpack @fiction-fanfic-reader @crazymusicgirl104

[badasgirlfriend]

Opposites Attract | Bada Lee Imagine

pairings: slytherin!bada lee x gryffindor!fem!reader

genre: enemies to lovers, hp universe, idk

~part 2~

Y/N sighed in frustration as Professor McGonagall explained the theory behind transfiguration. She truly loved her professor and the subject, but today just wasn't her day.

Y/N whispered to her best friend Eli, who was sitting next to her. "I can't focus,"

Eli nodded in agreement. "Me neither," she said. "I just want to go to my common room and get some rest."

"I can't wait for next week's match," Y/N exclaimed rather loudly, catching the professor's attention but going unnoticed.

Eli smirked. "We will beat your asses," she said.

"In your dreams," Y/N said, rolling her eyes. "How long has it been- two years maybe? Three? That's how long it's been since slytherins defeated us."

"That's because Heesung was captain. You know how bad he was. Now it's Bada, so- "

"Don't mention her"

"We will 100% win," Eli smirked, poking her shoulder, as if attempting to get a reaction from Y/N. "Did I hit a nerve?" Eli asked.

"I will hex you," Y/N threatened, jokingly grabbing her wand. However, seeing Eli's face change to fear, Y/N slowly turned around.

"I don't remember teaching hexes, Miss Y/N," Professor McGonagall said firmly.

"Of course not, professor," the younger girl smiled sweetly. "I was just joking."

"I heard you got in trouble today." Y/N immediately gulped at the mention of today's incident , knowing full well that she was in trouble.

"Minnie- Professor Sprout wasn't being fair," she stated quickly, attempting to defend herself.

"I argued with a Hufflepuff. I might have thrown in some insults- I can't remember," she finished weakly. "That's all I swear."

Professor McGonagall raised an eyebrow. "That's all?" she asked in shock. "Yes," Y/N replied.

"Huh, that's new," Professor McGonagall mumbled. "You two. I don't want to see you talking in class anymore. Focus on the notes." Y/N and Eli looked at each other in defeat.

"She's so scary"

"I know"

After an hour of taking notes and practicing transfiguration, class ended. With their different class schedules, Y/N and Eli had to part ways at this point. Y/N was off to Divination, while Eli was heading to History of Magic.

Y/N arrived at the North Tower and immediately spotted Mars, a Ravenclaw that she had grown very close with this year.

"Can I sit with you?" she asked, earning a nod of approval from Mars.

"Yes, of course," Mars replied enthusiastically.

As soon as Y/N sat down, a crystal ball appeared on their desk, much to their surprise.

"Your Jupiter planet seems to be bothered, that means you'll die next year," Mars said, mimicking Professor Trelawny's voice.

"Oh no," Y/N gasped "What a shame," she said sarcastically. "I can't wait though."

Y/N started waving her hands around the crystal ball with a serious expression on her face.

"Damn it," she said. "Ravenclaw will lose to Gryffindor."

Mars pushed Y/N playfully. "Shove off," he continued playfully.

"You don't need to be an expert in Divination to know what happens next," a high-pitched voice said, causing both of them to freeze.

"We both get Outstandings- nevermind we won't," Mars started to say, only to immediately stop as he saw the furious look on the professor's face.

"What's with these professors sneaking up on me today?" Y/N grumbled, rolling her eyes in annoyance.

Y/N strongly disliked Professor Trelawney. Not just because she was unable to excel in Divination, but also because the professor irritated her in many ways. These ways include Trelawney's annoying trait of speaking nonsense

"Miss Y/N, change seats," The professor glanced around, suddenly noticing two Slytherins enter the classroom. "You can sit with Miss Lee,"

The two girls' faces turned into horror the second their eyes met.

"Never"

"Hell no"

"Either change seats, or you both get detention," the professor threatened solemnly.

"Why do I get detention when it's her fault?" Bada rolled her eyes, clearly annoyed at the situation.

"You're late, Miss Lee. Don't act so innocent," the professor said.

Hearing this made Bada snap back into her seat, realizing that protesting further would not do any good.

"It's not looking good for me," Bada mumbled to Mika, who only snickered in reply.

"It's only one class, don't complain," Mika replied.

In response, Bada let out a scoff "With her? It feels like a week."

On the other side of class, Y/N was quietly grabbing her book and muttering curses.

"It can't be that bad"

In response, Y/N whined, pointing at Bada. "It is," she said. "We're talking about her.

"Forgot about your little rivalry," Mars said with a chuckle.

"Pray for me, no actually, pray for her," Y/N muttered to Mars as she got up from her seat and headed to the new spot the professor had assigned for her.

On her way there, she shot Mika a dark look, only to receive a smug smirk in response from the Slytherin girl.

Stupid Slytherins

Without looking at the tall girl, Y/N sat down on the chair and scooted it away from Bada. Almost instantly, a strong, familiar smell wafted in front of Y/N's nose, filling her nostrils with the musky scent mixed with hints of vanilla.

Bada looked up and noticed that Y/N had scooted the chair away from her. Rolling her eyes, she looked away and went back to her work, clearly not caring about Y/N's discomfort.

Bada noticed that Y/N had scooted the chair away from her. Without saying a word, she rolled her eyes at the other girl's obvious discomfort.

She tried, she really did but Bada was simply incapable of keeping quiet in this situation. She simply couldn't sit there without throwing in a word toward the Gryffindor girl.

Since the first time the two of them had met, they had been constantly arguing. This was something that was deeply ingrained in Bada's memory.

Smirking, Bada scooted closer, eager to poke at Y/N's nerves.

"Afraid of me, Y/N?" she asked with a smirk on her face.

Noticing Bada's smirk, Y/N simply pressed her teeth together in annoyance "You wish"

"Then why are you sitting so far away then?" Bada asked, her voice dripping with sass. She then proceeded to grab the chair that Y/N was sitting on and scoot it closer to her table.

Y/N gasped in surprise, turning to face the Slytherin girl. "Are you crazy?"

Putting a finger on her chin, Bada pretended to mull over the question, her thoughts running wild in her head.

"I wouldn't say 'crazy,' per se," Bada said, her words dripping with sass.

"But I would certainly say that I am a little out of touch with the concept of 'personal space' when it comes to you," she continued, her smirk growing wider at that subtle dig.

"I'll bring you back to reality," Y/N hissed as she fully glared at Bada.

"You're nothing but an arrogant bitch who only cares about yourself-"

Bada's face changed just as Y/N's words reached their end. Her smirk from earlier now fell, turning into a scowl as she listened to what Y/N had to say.

"If you looked around more, you'd see that the world doesn't revolve around you and your little friends," Y/N continued.

Both girls were completely focused on their argument, and seemingly didn't notice that their faces were incredibly close together.

"Girls."

Neither Bada or Y/N made a single move. The rest of the class did not break their gazes, as they had become accustomed to the girls' bickers and just waited for things to calm down.

"Girls" the professor repeated and they both turned to glare at the professor

"What" they both said

"Pay attention" the professor said now sitting on the armchair near the fire "Alright my dear children now..."

She lifted her wand, her eyes glowing with a wild intensity. She pointed it towards the table and a tea cup rose into the air. With a flick of her wrist, it flew across the room towards her. "Beware the trap set before you, my dear," she uttered in a low and serious tone, her eyes locking with Y/N's.

Y/N's eyes widened in surprise, her gaze filling with sudden fear as she processed the professor's words.

"She's insane," she muttered under her breath, her expression turning from confusion to outright dread.

Bada found herself nodding along in agreement, but she quickly shook her head - she couldn't agree with her

"Collect a tea cup from the shelf, come to me and I'll fill it up" the professor continued "then drink it until only the dregs remain, swill the cup three times and give it to your partner to read it"

Bada and Y/N glared at each other after the professor said 'partners'

After what seemed like an eternity of waiting, the girls finally got to the part where their tea leaves would be interpreted. As they swirled the contents of their cups and waited for the professor's words, their glares were still firmly locked on each other

"I'll read yours first," Y/N mumbled as she grabbed Bada's cup with a little force

As she looked into the cup of tea, Y/N felt herself slowly regretting her decision to not skip class. As her eyes tried to make out any figures or forms within the cup of tea leaves, she was met with nothing but disappointment.

"Huh, I don't see-" Y/N stops abruptly, her eyes suddenly catching a glimpse of something among the tea leaves.

Leaning in closer, she tries to make out the shape or image of whatever it might be.

"Oh wait, I see an acorn!" Y/N exclaims as she finally recognizes the shape in the tea leaves.

"It says you'll have a good change in life," she adds, her tone of voice full of surprise and curiosity "Im good at this"

Bada snorted "You suck"

"Alright, let's see you do it then." Y/N raises her brows expectantly, handing Bada the tea cup.

The slytherin takes the tea cup and looks into its contents, her expression suddenly changing.

"What the fuck"

Y/N looks at her with a slight concern. "What?"

"Falcon," Bada suddenly says, her tone of voice full of shock and horror.

"It means death," she adds, her words hanging in the air as Y/N's heart dropped.

Y/N didn't necessarily believe in the meaning of tea leaf readings and other forms of divination, but she had to admit that some of the interpretations of the tea leaves held some truth to them.

"Where do you see that?" she asks worriedly leaning over Bada

Bada couldn't help but hide a laugh as she saw Y/N's worried face.

"Look" Y/N bit her lip, still looking for the falcon among the tea leaves.

"Now I see a wolf," Bada continued

"A wolf?" Y/N repeated, her words filled with a mixture of confusion and fear. She grabbed ber book trying to find the wolf symbol. After the sighting of the falcon in her tea leaves, Y/she expects nothing but bad news.

"It means that the hottest and most intelligent girl in Hogwarts is sitting next to you," Bada laughed, her words causing Y/N to drop her book making the desk shake

As Y/N slowly tilted her head to look at Bada, her expression slowly turned to a grimace, which caused Bada to break into further laughter.

"You bitch, give me that" Y/N snapped at Bada, quickly picking up her tea cup from Bada's hands.

"Avada kedavra yourself,"

"Girls, be quiet," the professor said, as she walked up behind both Bada and Y/N. Both girls flinched at her presence, their eyes widening in surprise "Give me your cup"

"Oh my dear, you have the anchor," the seer broke into a grin

Y/N turned to Bada, her eyes narrowing at her.

"What does that mean?"

"How the fuck would I know?" Bada replied with a slight frown, her voice full of annoyance.

"It means you'll find love," the professor finally replied, her tone still somewhat vague as she handed Y/N the cup.

Y/N stared at her cup, her eyes widening in surprise as she suddenly realized that she could see the anchor. And that made her smile

Bada kept a close eye on Y/N, with every passing second she felt herself growing more and more amused by the sight of Y/N

"Are they smiling?" Mika asked, looking back and forth between Bada and Y/N, their expressions both filled with disbelief.

"I wish I had a camera," Mars said quietly to Mika, unable to contain the laughter that was slowly building up inside of them.

"Ouch!" Bada yelped when Y/N suddenly pinched her.

"What was that for?" she asked with a slight frown

"That was for lying and scaring me." Y/N replied but Bada reached out and tightened her tie

"Motherfu-"

"Y/N stop it!"

"Stop kicking my shin"

"Let me-

"Bada sto-"

Their eyes widened slightly as they heard that shattering sound, their gazes slowly shifting down to the ground.

As they realized that the crystal ball had fallen, Y/N gasped while Bada merely huffed in response.

Professor Trelawney moved closer to the two girls, her expression becoming more and more furious as she looked directly at Y/N and Bada.

"I can see potions class, that means we have detention," Y/N said quickly, taking Bada's cup and speaking as if she had just made the most obvious deduction in the world.

Professor Trelawney's expression shifted to one of annoyance as she heard Y/N's words, her anger slowly starting to fester.

"Detention for you two at 5!" she finally said, her words laced with a slight hint of disdain.

"Amazing," Bada groaned, pinching the bridge of her nose. "This is all your fault," she continued, turning to Y/N with a slightly frustrated tone.

"My fault?" Y/N scoffed, her tone shifting from casual to defensive as she looked up at Y/N.

"You started this"

"QUIET"

Bada rubbed her neck as she entered the Great Hall, her step slowing slightly as she looked around at the various student's filling the space around her.

It wasn't like she had many classes this day, but the divination class had left her feeling drained and tired

Professor Trelawney could often leave Bada feeling this way, and she found herself wanting to avoid that class at all costs.

"Why do I put myself through this?" she asked herself quietly

"You look like you ran a marathon," Dani suddenly popped up alongside Bada as they made their way towards the Slytherin table.

Bada let out a tired sigh "I wish I did that instead."

"She made her sit with Y/n" Mika exclaims, catching Dani by surprise.

"Are you serious?" Dani laughs and replies with disbelief. "She's got something against Bada, for sure."

"I got detention because of her," Bada explains with a frown

"Well, it's not like you were innocent either," Mika retorts "You were the one who pushed the crystal ball"

"Yoo you did what"

"I don't even care," Bada grumbled, pushing her food away.

"You're obsessed with her" Eli's voice spoke in front of her.

"Of course you would say that." Bada replied, facing Eli. "You're her best friend"

"I'm just telling you the truth." Eli shrugged, keeping her arms crossed in front of her.

"Stop that smirk, I know what goes on in your mind." Bada pointed her fork in Eli's direction.

"Yeah, whatever," Eli waved a hand dismissively. "I just came to talk about practice.

At the mention of quidditch Bada's eyes lit up "Tomorrow after classes, I talked to Snape he got us the pitch"

"Oh, so he is useful," Eli rolled her eyes.

Bada nodded, understanding that most Slytherins, including herself, weren't the biggest fans of Professor Snape. As the head of their house, though, he could grant special favors like the Quidditch pitch for practice or never taking points

"I'm kinda stressed about the game next week," Lila confided.

"Pff, why?" Bada smirked and waved a hand dismissively, clearly not understanding Lila's stress. "It's Gryffindor, come on," she replied.

Lila narrowed her eyes at Bada. "It's Gryffindor, You and I both know that they have excellent players. Especially with Y/N being captain. We can't underestimate them and go in with a cocky attitude."

"What's so special about Y/N being a captain?" Bada hissed. Y/N this Y/N that, Bada was tired of jer

"I thought you'd know by now," Eli remarked with a shrug. "You're always watching Y/N play," she added with a smirk.

"That's not true"

Lila spoke up, "It's true"

Bada turned to Dani, frowning. "Dani? I might need a little help here."

Dani didn't hesitate to turn the tables on Bada, giving her a sympathetic smile. "Sorry, I'm with them on this one," she replied.

Bada let out a frustrated sigh as she spoke. "Fine, okay, but it was only because I wanted to see the strategies she uses," she said.

She took a treacle tart from the table, her friends' eyes watching her closely. As she raised her head and saw their eyes staring straight at her, she felt herself freeze. "What?"

"Did yall hear that"

"Pfft strategies"

"It's 5:12"

"Is she really trying to lie to us"

"Five-twelve, Professor Trelawney is going to kill me," she mumbled as she tried her best to devour the entire tart in a single bite. "I- go- bye," she added, waving a hand dismissively and running off to try to get to the dungeons

She wasn't the type of person to worry about getting detention, but now that she was captain and a prefect, she hated the fact that she had to be on her best behavior. Upon seeing the dark door at the end of the hall, Bads took a deep breath and gave herself a moment to prepare before entering.

As the strong scent of potions hit Bada's nose, she had to try her best to keep herself from gagging. She noticed with dread the familiar Gryffindor sitting across from Professor Trelawney, upon hearing the cracking sound of the door, the two heads turned to face her

"You're late, Miss Bada," Professor Trelawney exclaimed, her hands on her hips.

"Sorry, Professor," Bada replied with a sweet smile. "I got held up talking to Prof Snape."

A loud sound was heard and Snape stepped away from the shelves in the corner of the room, holding some potions. His expression remained impassive, as always.

"Oh really?"

The slytherin girl quickly corrected herself, her eyes darting around the office. "What I meant to say was that I was trying to find Professor Snape, which was unsuccessful, as you can see," she continued, speaking quickly before the professor could interrupt. "That's- why I was late."

Y/N's eyes narrowed as she heard Bada's feeble excuse, but she remained silent. A low snort escaped her lips before she turned her attention back to Professor Trelawney

"You have an hour detention," Professor Trelawney stated "I want you to clean this class and also rearrange the potions according to their correct labels."

Bada's eyes widened as the seer continued. "Professor Snape will check with me later to make sure that you didn't use any wands"

"That's not fair!" Y/N spoke up, her tone whiny.

"At least make it 30 minutes," she continued, sounding desperate.

Professor Trelawney gave her a disapproving look before replying, "Wanna make it two hours?"

Bada quickly grabbed a broom, her expression sullen as she tried to hide her frustration. "Let's get it over with," she muttered, and began the tedious-sounding task.

The two girls handed over their wands to Snape, and the two professors left the class.

With Professor Trelawney and Professor Snape out of sight, Y/N turned to Bada "Unbelievable," she grumbled.

"I know," Bada replied.

Y/N heard a crack at the sharp turn of her head, and turned her eyes to face Bada. "Stop agreeing with me,"

With a huff of annoyance, Bada began cleaning the floor. "Fine, I wish she gave us two hours then,"

No one spoke as they cleaned the room. The only sounds that could be heard were the broom sweeping across the floor and the soft sound of cauldrons being handled in the distance.

Y/N was gently cleaning the cauldrons, glancing with curiosity at Bada's appearance.

The Slytherin's hair was tied up in a low ponytail, her bangs in a slightly messy state. She rarely wore the uniform correctly, but today, it felt different to Y/N.

Bada's shirt hung low around her frame, and the green tie laid loose. The Slytherin's appearance caught Y/N's eye for a moment, as if she found Bads attractive. Though she would never have said it out loud,

Y/N was the opposite of her, with her uniform always put together and looking proper.

She wasn't used to being alone with the Slytherin girl, and as a result, she felt somewhat uncomfortable with the silence. In an attempt to lessen her nerves, she cleared her throat and asked, "What's your favorite color?"

"Are you for real?" Bada's face turned up towards Y/N as she spoke.

The Gryffindor gave her an annoyed glance, "Well, it's a simple question," she explained. "Mine is red."

Bads smirked slightly, one eyebrow raising in amusement. "Very Gryffindor of you," she repeated, a slight edge to her voice as she turned back to sweeping the floor.

"So...?" Y/N trailed off as she continued to sweep. Her eyes were fixed on the floor, but she listened carefully as Bads answered the question.

The Slytherin's voice was quiet, but her tone was confident as she replied, "Green."

Y/N smiled, repeating Bada's words "Very Slytherin of you," she teased, making the other girl smile slightly in response.

"Your turn"

Bada's face was full of annoyance as her eyes went to Y/N. She let out a loud sigh as she spoke, her frustration already running high. "What are your strategies for the next game?"

Y/N dropped the cauldron. "Hey, simple questions," she replied, her voice a bit higher than usual.

"Your favorite professor?"

"Minnie"

"Your strategies for the next game?"

"To beat you," Y/N replied, moving over to the various tools that had been left out.

Bada dropped the broom, feeling a bit frustrated with the detention. She was now seated in front of Y/N, watching the Gryffindor in close proximity. "Hey, I tried," she shrugged

"What are you doing?" Y/N looked up at Bada, her expression revealing her disbelief.

Bads narrowed her eyes, looking irritated as she responded, "Staring."

Y/N couldn't stop herself from rolling her eyes. "Oh, thank you for your clear answer," she said sarcastically. "I never would have known that on my own. Why aren't you cleaning?"

"Oh, come on, Y/N," Bada huffed. "I'm not gonna clean the entire class," she complained as she looked around the classroom. "Look how big it is,"

"I don't care," Y/N responded quickly, putting the tools and rag in front of her. "You won't get in trouble with Snape, but I will, so start."

"Or what" Bada challenged waiting for her reaction

"You might regret it" her mouth turned into a playful grin

Without waiting for an answer, Y/N headed towards the small storeroom in the corner, struggling to carry five different potions. Bada, however, was too busy admiring Y/N to bother helping her.

The Slytherin's eyes roamed Y/N's entire body, taking in the way her skirts hugged her hips and the length of her legs. There was something enticing about the way she carried herself, something that made her want to keep staring. Bads even wondered how her body would feel against hers, what it would be like to touch her skin and run her fingers over her curves

Bada's eyes travelled to Y/N's face, unable to deny that she was one of the most beautiful girls in Hogwarts. Even though they had a bit of a competition going on, Bada couldn't help but notice how captivating Y/N was. The shorter girl's facial features were beyond compare, with sharp eyes that cut through the air and high cheekbones that added a touch of elegance to her appearance. Bada thought to herself: If anyone was the most beautiful girl at Hogwarts, it had to be Y/N.

"Are you even listening to me?" Y/N's voice snapped Bada back into reality.

"Well, yeah," she replied, sounding a bit unsure of whether or not she was actually being truthful.

"Doesn't seem like it," Y/N repeated with a mischievous smile. "Come help me hold the door. Just don't let it close otherwise can't go out"

The Gryffindor rolled her eyes at the charm that Professor Snape had put in place. In case the door locks no one from inside can open it. While it was annoying, it was also smart.

With a heavy sigh, Bada moved towards the small closet, stomping along the way. She walked past Y/N and held the doors open, determined not to talk to the Gryffindor any more than necessary.

Y/N stood now inside the closet, on top of a chair putting various potions away. She had to wonder just how long it would take them to clean up the whole of Potions class. At least now they had each other's help.

"Work faster," Bada grumbled, leaning against the door. Her eyes were fixed on Y/N

"I'm sorry, I'm the one doing everything here," Y/N answered, turning to look at tall girl. She was surprised by the Slytherin's attitude, but wasn't about to back down from a fight.

"Excuse me?"

Y/N narrowed her eyes at Bada, she wasn't paying attention to where she was placing the potion. With a quick motion, the Gryffindor moved the vial towards the shelf, accidentally missing and knocking it over. The fall caused her to lose her balance, and Bada's eyes widened as she saw the incident happen.

"Fuck- DON'T"

"YO"

Bada quickly left her place, seeing Y/N lose her balance. She didn't hesitate to reach out to catch the Gryffindor before she fell, but the moment she did, the door of the closet unexpectedly closed. The darkness felt stiflingly close and Bads felt a twinge of panic

Y/N's heart felt like it was about to burst inside her chest. She couldn't decide which part of the situation was causing her heart to pound: the fact that they were now stuck in the closet, the fall itself, or the feeling of Bada holding her bridal style.

The darkness wasn't overwhelming, but thanks to a crack in the door, there was just enough light for Y/N to see Bada's face clearly.

"Um," Y/N started, and Bada's eyes went to hers in an instant.

In a sheer panic, the Slytherin hadn't realized just how close their faces were until it was too late. Y/N had her arms wrapped around the older girl's neck and Bada was holding her tightly.

Both of them found themselves rooted to the spot, their eyes locked on the other. Neither one could find the strength or energy to pull away from the close proximity they found themselves in, both feeling trapped in the moment.

Y/N's gaze darted to Bada's parted lips for a quick second, and for that split moment, a surge of heat travelled through her body. She quickly looked back up, her eyes focused on Bada's face.

Why did she like the feeling of being this close to her

Bada felt like she was going crazy as well. Her stomach was in knots and her knees were weak. She could feel the warmth of Y/N's breath on her face, a closeness she was starting to find herself enjoying. She was sure she was losing her mind because she knew Y/N hated her, just like Bada hated Y/N

If they hated each other so much, why did she find herself imagining what it would be like to taste the girl she despited so much ? Bada was sure she was going insane, the mere thought of being intimate with Y/N ridiculous and unthinkable. And yet, there she was, imagining what Y/N's lips would be like against her own.

"What the hell!" the taller girl yelled, dropping Y/N to the ground without even warning her.

"Why the fuck did you just drop me?"

"Why'd you pinch me?"

The girls immediately reverted back to their previous hostile and combative state, looking at each other with daggers in their eyes. It didn't take much to get them worked up and pissed off at one another, especially when it came to the tiniest of infractions.

Y/N got up, dusting off her now-dirty skirt while trying to salvage whatever dignity she had left "It's all your fault"

Laughter filled the room as Bada held up her hands in defense. "Me? Who decided to twirl on the chair, hmm?"

Y/N was furious. "Because you wouldn't help," she snapped at Bada.

Bada scoffed and shook her head. "Don't put it on me now, when it's clearly your fault," she said.

Y/N balled her hands into fists. "I'm not doing this with you," she said, frustrated. "Just forget it. Whatever, it doesn't matter."

"It does matter," Bada muttered, leaning back against the wooden wall. Despite the distance between them, her body was still close to Y/N's. "We are stuck here until Snape comes"

Y/N hated small spaces, but she had no choice but to suck it up. There was no way she was going to let Bada know about her claustrophobia. She knew she'd never hear the end of it. Even now, as she squeezed herself into a tiny space, she could almost feel Bada's mocking gaze on her.

"So what's your favorite number"

"Don't even start"

Y/N sighed and looked away. "I'm trying to make this less boring," she said, trying to hide her frustration.

"Well, don't," Bada replied, her tone still cold. "You're making it worse."

"You're such a bitch," Y/N said and Bada only smirked in response.

"Im honored," Bada replied with a small curtsey, her sarcasm apparent.

"You look like an idiot"

"You are one"

"Jump off a cliff"

"You're such a sad case"

"You jerk"

"Snooty bitch"

The two girls' mouths never stopped throwing curses at each other. Y/N was so caught up in her anger that she didn't realize how close she now was to Bada.

Bada was feeling the same anger, even if she wasn't showing it. Her eyes were flashing with defiance as she continued to hurl invective at Y/N. They were both consumed by the moment, completely caught up in their emotions.

Suddenly, Bada stepped closer, pressing up against Y/N.

Y/N's eyes widened in surprise as she suddenly realized how close she was to Bada. She had been so caught up in the moment that she hadn't noticed their proximity until now. Despite her shock, she didn't move away.

Bada didn't notice how she had pinned Y/N against the wall. Despite her frustration, she found herself taking in every moment of Y/N's features. The full lips, sharp eyes, and plush hair - everything was so enticing.

They stood inches apart, pressed together by Bada's arms. She felt the heat rise to her cheeks as she remained transfixed by Y/N's beauty.

She didn't move, she didn't want to move

No words were spoken, but every look spoke a thousand emotions. Just a week ago, Y/N would've laughed at the idea of this position - trapped under the one she hated the most.

But now, she wasn't sure. Could she still call it hate?

"Bada..?" Bada felt her knees threatening to give out as Y/N's gaze settled on her.

Y/N's lips were slightly parted, her breath coming out in short, sharp inhales. Her eyes were wide, like those of a deer caught in the headlights, completely enthralled by her.

"Yeah.."

They were leaning closer, both wanting this so much to their own surprise. Their noses touched, and the air between them was suddenly alive with a tingling energy.

This is it, Y/N thought to herself, this is where she loses her sanity

She closed her eyes, trying to focus on slowing down her pounding heart. But it was useless; her heart continued to race, and every thought she tried to control went out the window as she gave in to her feelings.

Y/N's heart was racing as their lips brushed, but she couldn't contain her excitement for long. She almost whined at the older girl's teasing.

"What in the world are you two doing?"

Y/N and Bada quickly separated from each other when a piercing voice interrupted their moment. Bada's eyes darted to the potions professor who was glaring at them. Y/N stepped back in dismay, her face red with embarrassment.

This was going just great

Y/N gulped as her mind went blank. She had no idea what to say, and she hoped that the girl in front of her took the lead

She looked over at Bada who was avoiding her gaze. "We got stuck..." Bada said, trailing off. She seemed to be searching for words but had none to say.

"I can see that," the professor said slowly, his voice clipped and sharp. He took a few steps backward but continued to glare at them.

"I suggest you two leave," he added with a cold glance.

The professor didn't need to say any more. Y/N and Bada quickly exited the closet, their heads hung low in shame. Y/N grabbed her bag and took off, running away from the awkward situation. She didn't want to face Bada, and she had no idea what to say to her.

Y/N only wished that the next few days would pass without any mention of what had happened. She wanted to forget, to pretend that everything was the same as it was before.

But that might be a pipe dream, as her mind kept going back to that moment. And the thought of seeing Bada again made her heart flutter, reminding her that she couldn't ignore her new feelings so easily.

Bada was still sitting in class when the professor told her to wait. She was shaking, filled with anxiety and nerves. She knew that the professor wasn't dumb, and he must have known what was going on

"Miss Lee"

Bada snapped her attention to the professor who hadn't lost his stern glare. "Yes, Professor," she responded, making sure her voice didn't shake in fear.

The professor remained silent for a moment, his gaze piercing and critical. Finally, he said, "I hope you know that whatever you two were about to do isn't right"

Bada gulped, but she was determined not to back down. "We weren't doing anything, sir," she said, her voice shaky yet defiant. "The closet is small as you can see, so we had to squish in a little closer."

The professor's eyes narrowed, and he took a step towards her. "If you say so, Miss Lee." he said in a cold tone. "I only need to send an owl for your parents to be here."

Bada felt a chill run down her spine as she realized how vulnerable she was in this situation.

"Like I said," she repeated with an equally firm glare. "It was nothing."

"Good, you can leave now"

Bada didn't hesitate. She grabbed her bag and rushed out. Her fingers were shaking. Telling her parents? Hell no, she thought to herself.

She had already gone through hell and back at home, and she didn't need much more of that stress on her plate. Her parents would lose their minds if they found out that she almost kissed a girl. They would kill her

Kissing Y/N... She wasn't about to kiss her right...?

Bada's mind was racing with excuses to convince herself that what had happened between her and Y/N meant nothing. But every excuse fell flat.

She hated Y/N. Y/N hated her. That's how it always was... Even those excuses no longer made sense. She couldn't stop thinking about Y/N; she couldn't stop longing for Y/N's lips on hers again.

But was it hate that she felt all these years towards Y/N?

[phoenix10km]

THERES SO MANY DYNAMICS.

Grian, a former watcher either trying to thwart their plans or helping them for some reason. Nobody knows he’s a watcher but it’s clear his power is growing the longer he’s in the games. Third through Limited he was on the same playing field as the rest, but when the portal opened in secret life? Something changed. Now he know what the watchers have planned, he’s able to help his Allies with the information.

Scott, the first to know about the watchers. And is clearly against them. Giving the watchers what they want is not an option to him; but can’t seem to consistently stop them from what they want. After his first boogey curse, she felt the dread and the fear that came with the thought of not securing that kill; not fulfilling the watchers hunger for negative emotions. That’s when he started hating whatever put them there a second time. Despite a faceless enemy he decided to purposely fail his second boogey curse defying the watchers; and when he wins because of that decision he finally gets to see his enemy. Throughout the series he tries to defy them, refusing to take Pearl on as his soulmate, trying to make an Honorable match of the final fight in limited. Refusing to die on anyone else’s terms in secret life.

Maryten, the only one that has some awareness of gods, and the only one brought to the brink of insanity in limited life. He knows their out there, all winners do. But they contacted him before he won; heard them before he won. They favor him, either as a play thing or they want to give him an important roll.

Scar is being pitted as a tragedy, or a villain. Never a hero. The watchers clearly like to push him to his limits. He was so.. happy in third life, fierce loyalty in grian, and they trusted each other so deeply. He didn’t know grian would change after he beat scar limp in the cactus ring. It first started with Grian tricking him and stealing one of his lives in last life. Then cheating on him in double life with big b and getting him killed. Then grian out right stabbing him in the back in limited life. The watchers were pushing scar to snap through grian; and finally in Secret life they gave him a chance to let all the hurt out, to be the villian. He took it. and in a twist, a universe where scar was never meant to win (I have my reasons to thing) grian of all people helped via a completely unrelated suicide mission to kill gem and the Scott’s, significantly weakening them. Now I’m wild life we are seeing them work through the issues, through the hurt and betrayal now that scar can see the influence of the watchers.

Jimmy, If Maryten is the watchers favorite play thing; Jimmy is their favorite toy to break. Time, and time, and time again Jimmy fell victim to a curse the watchers put on him. For him to always be the first to fall. He was supposed to always be their canary. A warning the end is near. A sign of the unavoidable disasters ahead. Feeling so hopeless until the watchers got to focused on scars villian arc; and like sand Jimmy barley slipped trough the watchers fingers. It gave him hope as Lizzie had fallen into the void, he realized there was a way out despite his demise not long after hers. Now, he’s carried that hope to wild life, praying that maybe he would not be the first; and while to watchers were upset about their slip of control in secret life, their gods, and oh boy did it boost their egos to have someone pray for their mercy, pray that they would spare his life just a bit longer. And they did, Jimmy is the first they’ve listened to; and maybe even had mercy on.

These are just my headcannons on certain relationships these characters have with the watchers. I know I didn’t mention two of the winners, mainly because I don’t see Pearl having a relationship with the watchers really, if anything maybe she sees them as cruel? I’d have to flesh it out more. As for cleo while I consider real life cannon story wise and count her as a winner, it’s tough to slot real life in. I think it’s a punishment for the players defying what the watchers wanted to happen in Secret life? But again it needs to be fleshed out more.

[randombush3]

Kinda miss Fleur and Alexia bickering 🫣 can I get a request a one short of them getting into a fight

sorry I took ages to do it - I've been trying to think of a scenario. I imagine that the dutch players have had a very miserable international window lol

[...]

I slam the door behind me. 

There are few things in life that cause me absolute devastation, but this week has been one of them. I’m tired, I’m angry, and, what’s worse, I’m resenting the fact that Alexia’s apartment is bright and happy. 

She smiles as she emerges from the bathroom, perhaps not hearing how I entered as I used my own key. 

I take it as smugness. (I want it to be smug.) 

“Hola, mi amor,” she says with caution, heading over to greet me after not seeing much of each other for the best part of a week. She must sense the tension because her smile dampens, victorious glow from winning fucking everything fading away. 

“Hey,” I mutter, tone clipped and curt and dripping with resentment. Alexia approaches, concern beginning to make her frown, reaching out gently to touch my arm. 

I jerk it away from her. 

For the briefest of moments, I feel a long-dead emotion: hatred. I loathe Spain’s success, am jealous of it, and it is not fair that it comes at my expense. Not when we are together, not when we are no longer enemies. 

It was easy to play against Alexia when I was her rival. I could tackle her freely and let my teammates foul her when she was too good to beat, able to watch on without remorse. Seeing her hit the grass brought about a vindictive, satisfied feeling, and I relished in it. 

Being her girlfriend is a lot harder, and it has been a while since I have had to play on a different team to her. It has been a while since we lost to Spain, but, just like they did in August, they have crushed our dreams once more. 

My dreams. 

The Olympics are more special to me than any other tournament, and will continue to be until the games are no longer valued in women’s football. They are my family’s history, the gateway into my relationship with my mum, and they are now out of my reach. 

I huff out a breath, struggling to contain my emotions. “We lost twice so we won’t be going.” I tell her what she already knows but she does not rub it in. “Jaimie is going to qualify.”

Alexia looks at me, piercing eyes seeing through the floodgates I have shut. She must realise that I have cried on the plane – maybe even that I hadn’t stopped crying since we played Germany, only reining it all in as I made my way up the stairs to her place.

“What do you want, Alexia?” I snap as she attempts to touch me again, blinking myself back into reality and hoping I don’t start to cry. 

Clearly, my wounds have not been nursed enough. 

Alexia recoils, hurt flashing across her features before she schools them into something harder. Her jaw clenches. Maybe she thinks I am being immature. “What’s wrong with you, Fleur?” she asks, her voice tinged with frustration. “I know you're upset….”

“Oh, like you care,” I retort, bristling at her words. “You seemed happy to run around with Jenni, celebrating your socks off!” 

Her eyes narrow, patience wearing thin. “Excuse me?” She doesn’t sound convinced that I am the real Fleur de Voss, looking me up and down to check I haven’t been replaced with someone else. 

“You clearly have let it get to you. Have you forgotten what it’s like to lose?” 

“Oh, of course,” she scoffs, “because that has never happened to me before. I was inconsolable after we lost the Champions League final; I didn’t come out of my room for–”

“Please, spare me the sob story.” I roll my eyes. “You’re on top of the world right now, Ale. Spain wins everything and you keep adding to your list of victories, crushing anyone who dares to get in your way. And the worst part is, you don’t even play! You don’t even play, and you act like you have done it single-handedly, with the biggest grin on your face–” 

“Do you think I enjoy seeing you in pain?” She trembles with anger. She shouts, and she hasn’t meant to be the first to do that because she instantly steps back in regret. I may have flinched at the shock of her volume, but now I square my shoulders, daring her to fix my heartbreak. “Do you think it didn’t take all my willpower to not go over to you, to not comfort you, or hug you, or try to make you feel better? Do you think I wasn’t trying to get to you as soon as I could? Or that, in Sevilla, I didn’t look at flights to Germany so that you wouldn’t have to spend the night alone?” She steps towards me. “I know how much going to Paris meant to you, to your family. Believe me, I heard what your mother said to you – even if my English isn’t that good.” 

“Your English is fine,” I mutter, instinctively destroying her stupid insecurity. 

“Fleur, how could you think I take pleasure in your losses? You know me better than that.” 

I shake my head, unable to quell the storm of emotions raging inside of me. “I feel like I don’t know anything right now,” I admit, hardly audible. 

I was going to the Olympics. I was sure of it. 

Jaimie and I were going together, and, although Mum competed for a different flag, we were going to follow in her footsteps; continuing her legacy because she promised me I would be good enough to do that. She promised us both, time and time again. 

She may have left us, but she was the one who wrangled me a spot in the Australian youth teams. She started my international career for me, and I was going to repay her by showing her it was worth it. 

What is it worth now?

“All I know is that I’m tired of feeling like my best isn’t good enough, and I don’t know how much longer I can keep pretending everything’s okay.” 

Suddenly, this is about more than just losing the Nations League and not qualifying for the Olympics. This is the fallout of the Ballon d’Or, and we both know it. Alexia seems to have seen this coming. 

“I’m sorry for not being there when you needed me,” she begins, though guilt courses through me because I know it would have been asking the impossible of her, “but I’m here now.”

[whyse7vn]

BABY FEVER -

[ ot7 x reader ]

TAEHYUNG -

tae: have my cubs

y/n: STOP TALKING TO ME NOW

tae: i want 8

y/n: i’ve actually never been so srs in my life

let’s break up

like fr

i’m over this relationship i’m over you

tae: i can settle for 5 if it’s too much

y/n: let’s settle for a break up

tae: our little family 🥺

y/n: i would rather shoot myself

tae: why?

y/n: WHY?

are you really asking my why rn?

tae: yeah??

y/n: “have my cubs”

tae: i can’t get pregnant what is wrong with you

someone didn’t go to school 😭😭

y/n: who in their right mind says shit like that

tae: me??

y/n: stop talking to me

tae: babe

i’m being for real

y/n: i know

and i’m scared

tae: don’t be scared

i’ll protect you

and the kids

real alpha i am

y/n: stop

tae: are you getting emotional?

omg are you pregnant rn?????

hormones and that stuff?

is that what you wanted to say this whole time??

were you trying to hide it from me??

ur so cute >.<

y/n: i’m blocking you now

tae: we are gonna get through this together

do you think we need a bigger house?

y/n: genuinely are you ok in the head?

tae: ofc wtf??

i know ur not because of the pregnancy

but it’s okay

you don’t need to stress at all

i’ll think for the both of us

the love of ur life taetae be the sane one for the next 6 months

y/n: there is so much to unpack there

tae: omg have you been clothes shopping without me >.<

y/n: i am perfectly fine

you and sane don’t belong in the same sentence

never call yourself taetae again

and it’s 9 months not 6 you fucking idiot

tae: what is ur actual problem??

don’t swear around my child you’ll poison their mind

and i think i know more about babies than you do so just leave everything to me ok?

y/n: again i would rather shoot myself

tae: if you die i’ll protect the baby

y/n: there is no baby

tae: are you not ready to be a mother or something?

i swear we can do this babe

y/n: are you actually listening to me??

tae: ofc i am??

y/n: …

tae: i’m omw home btw can’t wait to see you both!!!!!!!

y/n: it’s like you only take in the information you want to hear

tae: i love you too

y/n: or maybe you just can’t read

tae: <333333333

YOONGI -

yoongi: no

y/n: i don’t like when you read my mind like that

yoongi: no

y/n: i’m gonna ask anyways

yoongi: no

y/n: let’s have a baby 😁🙏🏽

yoongi: no

y/n: if we don’t have a baby now ur gonna be an old dad

ur gonna die before our baby turns 10

we don’t want that do we?

think of all the precious memories you’ll miss

yoongi: i’m fine with that

y/n: are you really?

yoongi: …

no

y/n: let’s have a baby rn

yoongi: but that’s so much work

y/n: #inittogether

our little baby made out of our love for each other

isn’t that sososoos cute yoongi 🥺

yoongi: i guess

y/n: so we’re having a baby?

yoongi: go away

y/n: ur not saying no

i’m taking this as a yes

i continue to win in this life

yoongi: what if you die before me

and i’m left with a baby?

y/n: the old thing really got to you huh?

yoongi: no i’m just saying you might die first

y/n: there is no way i’m dying first

ur literally 30

yoongi: and???

y/n: like jin is ur age mate that’s saying aLOT

yoongi: ur pissing me off

y/n: okay old bitch

yoongi: you expect me to have children with you after you bully me??

y/n: pls put me in ur will

i’m in jin’s yk?

yoongi: why are you in jin’s will?

y/n: why? mad ur not?

yoongi: how do you know i’m not

in his will?

matter of fact why tf does he have a will??

y/n: aren’t you an inquisitive one

yoongi: saying big words doesn’t make you look smart

y/n: jin knows it’s almost his time

you better start writing yours

yoongi: leaving everything to holly

y/n: i’ll literally cook holly

yoongi: what is wrong with you

y/n: i am not with child rn

that’s what’s wrong

yoongi: that sounded gross

never say that again

y/n: i’ve come to the conclusion that ur my biggest enemy

yoongi: i’m glad you know

y/n: ur dying

yoongi: ur next

y/n: don’t ever say that

i’m literally in my prime

yoongi: ur prime?

couldn’t tell

y/n: find someone else to carry your children

i can no longer stand the idea of mini yous running around

yoongi: ok :(

y/n: ??

don’t frown at me

you brought this on urself

yoongi: 😔

y/n: you bitch

yoongi: come make a baby with me 😄

NAMJOON -

y/n: let’s have a child

namjoon: ok

y/n: i lied

namjoon: oh

y/n: what is wrong with you

namjoon: what is wrong with you?

y/n: did adding a question mark make you feel better bitch??

namjoon: very

y/n: this is why i lie to you

namjoon: that’s not nice

y/n: ur literally a nasty little gaslighter

namjoon: i’m not?

y/n: you are?

namjoon: if anything ur the gaslighter

y/n: fake claims i’ll sue

namjoon: you tell me you want to have children and then you tell me ur lying or you never said that

y/n: what is ur actual issue i’ve never said i want kids??

if you want kids ig we can talk about it but i’ve literally never brought that up

namjoon: see?

y/n: i see very clearly actually 20/20 vision the eye people told me

namjoon: you wear glasses?

y/n: occasionally

like what is ur issue?

ur so obsessed with me it’s not right

namjoon: ig i’m a little obsessed

y/n: it’s really not right

wait…

don’t you fucking wear glasses

what is ur issue four eyes???

namjoon: i do

i’ve never claimed to have 20/20 vision

y/n: ur blind as hell

namjoon: maybe i don’t want to have kids with you

they fr won’t be able to see anything

y/n: HOW DARE YOU SAY YOI DONT WANT KIDS WITH ME

YOURE SICK IN TBE HEAD

namjoon: put ur glasses on

ur spelling stuff wrong

y/n: it’s my charm

namjoon: not wearing ur glasses?

y/n: we need to go on a break

namjoon: how can we go on a break when we have kids to take care of?

y/n: and you say ur not a gaslighter?

what if i was a weak woman and fell for ur sick lies

namjoon: we would have kids by now

y/n: ur messed up

that’s so messed up

namjoon: shoot me

y/n: don’t say stuff like that

cuz i will

then you’ll be mad

and dead

namjoon: what are you bothering me for?

y/n: can i not just message my bf like omg?

namjoon: you miss me or something?

y/n: not anymore

namjoon: cute

y/n: fuck ur cute

namjoon: accepting a compliment won’t kill you yk?

y/n: stop communicating with me

namjoon: you messaged me first?

y/n: no i didn’t

namjoon: whatever

y/n: omg don’t speak to me like you hate me i’ll kms

namjoon: so kids?

y/n: idk what ur on about tbh

namjoon: fine

y/n: fine

namjoon: fine?

y/n: fine?

namjoon: idk what you want from me

y/n: children

namjoon: you stop communicating with me

y/n: wow

namjoon: yeah

y/n: ur a LOSER

SEOKJIN -

jin: it’s time we reproduce

y/n: no

jin: no?

this would be a blessing to many

y/n: ok??

jin: ok?

i’ll just kms then

if you hate me just say that

y/n: i hate you

jin: what is ur problem???

y/n: what’s urs??

you told me to say it

jin: i said if you hate me

IF

y/n: ???

jin: oh my god

leave me alone

y/n: oh my god by gidle

jin: you have to stop speaking to hobi

y/n: why :(

jin: ur starting to talk like him

and it’s gross

the mother of my children a hoseok clone??

no thank you

y/n: what children??

jin: you need to keep up

we are having kids

y/n: but you said mother of your children

like as in you have kids rn

and last time i checked i never gave birth

who is this other woman seokjin???

jin: ew why would you say my full name like that

y/n: why would you cheat on me?

jin: bored?

y/n: all men are the same

jin: i am like no other man

y/n: true you dumb as hell

jin: now ur talking shit

y/n: maybe the shit talks you

jin: what

y/n: what

jin: can we make babies pls

y/n: ew

you actually make me wanna throw up

jin: wtf

this is why i don’t talk to you

y/n: you talk to me everyday?

in fact you loose ur mind if you don’t talk to me for more than 2 hours

jin: you literally have no proof

once again ur talking SHIT

y/n: don’t raise ur voice at me tf

jin: see you would be such a good mother

that’s such a parent thing to say

lowkey got me feeling a little hot and bothered rn 🙈

i’m sorry

you might need to put me in my place again mommy 🙈🙈🙈🙈🙈🙉🙉🙉

y/n: what the fuck

jin: you’re not into it???

y/n: how can you go from talking about children to sex?

jin: don’t say that makes me sound like a perv

y/n: you are a perv

jin: no i’m not

ur just lame

like you need to have sex to have children

i was just helping start the process

y/n: you’ve got like a screw loose or something

jin: stop speaking to me in riddles

or don’t

i do love a smart girl 😉

y/n: stop speaking to me like a bitch in heat

jin: people lame nowadays

by people i mean you

y/n: cry about it

jin: i just might

y/n: good

JUNGKOOK -

y/n: do you want to have a baby?

jk: doesn’t giving birth hurt?

y/n: so?

jk: i don’t want you to get hurt

y/n: life is pain

jk: i’ll give birth

y/n: that’s not how it works

jk: pls let me do it

y/n: ok

jk: thank you

y/n: ur welcome

jk: do you think i’ll look good pregnant?

y/n: idk

jk: will you still love me when i get big?

y/n: i might leave you if you get pregnant

jk: wtf?

y/n: it might creep me out

jk: why wtf

y/n: i don’t want to imagine you pregnant

jk: but our baby ☹️

y/n: i would rather never have kids than see you pregnant

jk: wow

you think i would be that ugly

y/n: i’m sorry

jk: are you?

y/n: ummm

jk: ok then

y/n: we can always adopt

jk: but that’s not my baby

y/n: legally they would be

jk: we won’t have the same spit

y/n: the same spit?

jk: yk like our insides won’t be the same

y/n: ur dna?

jk: yeah my dna

y/n: ur not supposed to have the exact same dna as ur baby anyways

jk: okay but it’s like a mix of us

and a adopted one would have no mix at all

y/n: so what do you want to do?

jk: give birth

y/n: i really don’t think it’s possible babe

jk: i will do it

y/n: sure

jk: why don’t you believe in me?

y/n: i do

jk: act like it

y/n: wooo?

jk: not good enough

y/n: sorry i’m tired

jk: ok?

y/n: fuck you?

jk: i’m about to have a baby and ur talking to me like that?

y/n: i’ll believe it when i see it

jk: so you fr don’t believe in me?

y/n: yeah

not one bit of belief in me

jk: crazy how people switch up

when you want to come back into me and MY babies lives we won’t let you

y/n: i’m crying

honestly

jk: i’m glad

y/n: i’m actually not

i don’t care at all

and that’s the truth

jk: so you just lie for fun

y/n: pretty much

jk: wow

ur crazy

y/n: 4 u

jk: waittt why am i blushing rn 😖

are you in love with me be honest?

y/n: idk…

jk: oh

y/n: embarrassing…

ur just a fuck buddy tbh

jk: for 8 years i’ve been a fuck buddy?

y/n: yur

jk: are you lying to me?

y/n: i could be

jk: i could be pregnant rn

y/n: are you?

jk: no

but i could be

y/n: are you lying to me?

jk: yeah :(

y/n: it’s okay

jk: is it really??

y/n: you don’t want me to answer that

JIMIN -

y/n: i’ve been getting congratulation texts all day today

jimin: omg people are so crazy wtf 😭?

y/n: i’m fr so confused

did we win an award i didn’t know about or something??

jimin: maybe idk lol

y/n: would it be rude if i asked what tf they’re talking about?

jimin: unbelievably rude

don’t do it

i’m for real

y/n: but i wanna know

jimin: just accept the congrats and go

y/n: do you know something i don’t?

jimin: wtf no?

y/n. ur lying

jimin: i’m not

y/n: jimin

jimin: love of my life

apple of my eye

babe

y/n: tell me

jimin: omg i LOVE that song

tell me tell me ttttell me

y/n: now

jimin: sorry idk what ur talking about

hello??

babe?

where did you go?

come back

talk to me

y/n: YOU TOLD PEOPLE I WAS PREGNANT???

jimin: I TOLD YOU NOT TO ASK

WAHT IS WRONG WITH YOU???

y/n: WHY WOULD YOU DO THAT

jimin: i’m preparing people for the future

y/n: ??????????

i’m NOT pregnant

jimin: you will be when i’m done with you ;)

y/n: wtf is wrong with you

jimin: a lot

y/n: i can tell

jimin: do you think i’m ugly be honest

y/n: right now yes

jimin: so you think i’m pretty other times 🥺🥺🥺

let’s have a baby

y/n: no

jimin: okay wtf

why not

y/n: ur literally about to be shipped off

you want to leave me with a baby??

jimin: why would you say that

now i’m upset

i’ll take the baby with me

y/n: …

jimin: no?

y/n: no

jimin: fine

our baby would be lowkey ugly anyways

y/n: excuse me?

jimin: problem?

y/n: why would our baby be ugly??

jimin: i mean…

y/n: you mean????

jimin: ur gonna have to just prove me wrong babe

y/n: ur not funny

jimin: did i make a joke???

y/n: you are the joke

jimin: i actually am not the joke

i never joke

super serious guy park jimin is

super shy too

new jeans core >.<

y/n: i’m done with you

HOSEOK -

y/n: baby?

hobi: me?

y/n: no like an actual baby

hobi: ur having one?

congrats!!!!!

y/n: no??

i’m not having one

hobi: oh

i’m sorry for ur loss

y/n: there was no loss

hobi: oh

was there a gain?

y/n: do you want there to be?

hobi: depends on the gain

y/n: the gain would be a baby

hobi: yikesss

that’s a pretty lame gain

why would i want you to have a baby?

y/n: um because you love me?

hobi: i wouldn’t be the father

i don’t see the point

y/n: ???

why wouldn’t you be the father?

hobi: i thought you were asking me if you could have a baby with someone else

y/n: what?

hobi: what?

i’m confused

y/n: I’M confused

hobi: why are we confused??

y/n: why would i ask you if i could have a baby with someone else???

hobi: feminism?

tho i do think it would be more of a feminist move if you didn’t ask me

ur spirt was in the right place tho

i’m sure the women will forgive you

y/n: what?

hobi: was i wrong??

y/n: what do you think?

hobi: it’s not my place to decide for a strong woman like urself

y/n: get a grip

hobi: grip gotten

y/n: is this ur way of dodging my baby proposal?

hobi: a baby what?

that sounds wrong

tf is a baby doing proposing???

ur a baby like drink milk or something

y/n: are you drunk??

hobi: nooooooooooooooooooooooooo

y/n: so ur tipsy?

hobi: tipsy topsy who cares

y/n: i do

i’m trying to ask you if you want to have a baby with me oh my god

hobi: omg do you love me or something???

that’s so crazy

y/n: bye have fun drinking

hobi: drinking heals me

y/n: that’s concerning

hobi: will i be a good dad

y/n: i’m sure you will

hobi: or will i kill myself due to the stress

y/n: oh

hobi: let’s find out babe

i’m ready

y/n: that did not sound like ready talk to me

we can talk about this tomorrow

hobi: if we think about it what can a baby do that i can’t???

y/n: keep me company

hobi: i do that all the time

do you hate me

if you hate me say 1

if you hate me and want me dead in a ditch by saturday night say 7

y/n: where are you right now?

hobi: jin’s house

i think

y/n: you think?

anyways

that’s the point

i’m all alone a baby would never leave me to go drink with jin

hobi: jin would be dead by the time our baby was born

he’s old

dojn’t tell him i said that

he might kick me out

i would be so upset

like this :cccccccccccc

and this 😭😭😭😪😓😓😓😰😰😨😨

WOAHHH THIJS DRINK HITTING OH MY GOD BABE WOW

FEELS LIKE I JUST DID COKE

OH MY GOF

not that i’ve done cokr befr don’t be scared of me babe

y/n: wow okay!

hobi: babies can’t even dance to dynamite i don’t see why you would want that in ur life

and i totally can dance to dynamite

sO i win

y/n: you are so right babe you go and have fun with jin!

hobi: see ur just so silly

and btw i realllly donnt do coke i swear it

y/n: 7

hobi: OH MY GIF I KNEW ITT

[taasgirl]

say something pt 2.

summary: although playing for the same club, pedri and y/n cannot stand the thought of being around each other. enemies to lovers for all my slow burn girlies out there - i got u

a/n: not proofread and all in english + more installments coming soon!!

read part one here!

We were sat just above the bench, watching over one of the men's games. We had to do this regularly, to show our club spirit or something. The men, however, barely ever came to our games. I swear they only came for our Champions League Final and were out of the stadium when the ninety minutes were up.

“You’d think that such an expensive team would be good.” Ingrid was not impressed with the team playing. Her face had disgust written all over it and was really not afraid to show it.

“Don’t be mean. Not everyone can be as good as us.” Salma bolstered a smile, rubbing my leg aggressively. Rolling my eyes, I kept my focus on the game in front of me. It was a tight game. Real Betis were really putting up a fight, and I couldn't help but ogle at Hector Bellerin. He was genuinely so beautiful.

"Enjoying the game Y/N?" Salma asked, making the girls around us laugh. "Yeah funny Sal."

By the time the game had ended it was a 2-1 win for Betis, a real shock to almost everyone. The boys were fuming.

We walked down to the field, players from both of teams were still there. Making my way through with the girls, I heard my name called out. "Y/N! Wait up!" I turned around, running over with a cheesy smile was Hector. Hector Bellerin.

We followed each other on Instagram, and occasionally left friendly comments, but we had never spoken before. "How you doing?" I could hear his awkward English accent. "I'm doing pretty well. Congrats on the win you guys deserved it." He smiled.

"Ah, thank you. None of us were really expecting it." We spoke for another few minutes until he was called over by his coach.

"I'll see you around, I hope that next time you watch me play, you're in a Betis jersey." Smirking, he ran back to his team while I followed the girls into the tunnel.

When I caught up with Salma she couldn't look at me. "Already cheating on class boy with a footballer." She sarcastically sighed. "I always knew you were destined to be a wag." I lightly shoved her until I felt a push on my back.

"Get the fuck out of the way." Pedri spat at me. "Talking to the fucking opposition. If you want to fuck him so badly do it after the game." He pushed the changeroom door open, following closely behind him was Gavi and Ferran who looked at me sympathetically.

"Come on don't listen to him. Let's get home." Salma's hand found my shoulder pulling me close into her. "I'm happy to sleep over at Mapi's if you want to bring a certain someone over." God I hope she never changes.

"Girl there's no way I'm inviting him over. Let him celebrate the win." I smiled at her and she looked confused. "I wasn't talking about Hector." She stuck her tongue at as we walked to the parking lot.

I couldn't stop thinking about what Pedri had said to me that night. It almost shocked me how I didn't slap him. And although I wanted to hate him for it, a part of me hoped he didn't mean it. A part of me wanted it to just be a spur-of-the-moment comment which he would regret.

"Y/N are you okay?" Alex lightly tapped me. "Huh? Oh yeah, I'm just um tired." I focused back at my teacher. School was kicking my ass, I received my assessment schedule and these last few weeks were my last moments of peace before I locked in.

Once class was over I hurried myself as usual to the door. I had to get to training asap and I couldn't afford to be late. Again.

"Need a ride?" Alex caught up to me. There was no way I would decline, I was gonna be late. "Yes please, I need to get to work." We hoped in his car and he drove me to the grounds.

"I really enjoyed hanging out with you the other day. If it's alright with you, I'd like to come to one of your games?" I laughed but quickly refrained myself. "Oh um yeah. I can try and hook you up with some tickets if you wanna bring people."

We drove through the back streets of Barcelona until we got to where I needed to be. "Do you need me to pick you up? I'm happy to hang around for a while." He pulled up kerbside. "Yeah you'd be waiting for a very long time. It's all good, Salma drives me home." He'd met Salma a few times after we'd hookup as he tried to escape my room.

"But seriously, thank you so much. You don't understand how much easier you just made my life." I leaned over and pecked him on the cheek before I left the car.

"The fuck is that?" I recognised the voice immediately, B-lining for the buildings' entrance. "Oh ok yeah very mature, just ignore me." I waved to reception as I walked down to the changerooms.

"Was that your boyfriend? Or just another guy you hook up with." I snapped at him "He's a classmate." I continued walking down the hall. "So, tell me, did you sleep with Hector." That was it.

I turned to face him and slapped him across the face. Hard. A red mark coloured his cheeks. Realising what I had down, I regretted it immediately. "Oh my god Pedri I'm so sorry." I placed my hand on his cheek. "Holy fuck I don't know what came over me." Firstly, he looked at me disappointed, then he smirked. "So I'll take it that you didn't sleep with him." I walked right past him.

"Is something up with you Y/N?" Lucy said in my ear while marking me during training. I looked at her puzzled. "You're a lot more, I don't know. You're very tense." I scoffed. No wonder I was tense, I was literally studying for my degree while playing professional football.

"Well a few of us are going to go out tonight if you wanted to join? Girls only type of thing." Actually, I liked that idea. I needed time to just chill. Preferably away from home.

"Yeah actually I'd like that. You'll send me the address?" She agreed and soon enough we were back to tackling each other.

Once training had finished, Ona and I walked to the gym. She was still recovering from an ankle injury and wanted someone to give her motivation during the workout. As we entered the gym, sets of eyes laid straight onto us.

The men's team.

I looked at her, displeased to be trapped in a room filled with sweaty men, however, she didn't seem to care too much. "I think I'm gonna get deodorant poisoning if I'm in here any longer." She dragged me over to a machine.

I took a walk around the gym, trying to find the spot with the best reception. "Fancy seeing you around." Pedri called out to me.

I didn't look at him. No bother in giving him the time of day. "Okay then." He turned back to his group, they were making fun of his failed attempt at grabbing my attention.

"Y/N can you come over here for a sec?" Gavi called out to me. I was less than willing to walk over to a slightly intimidating group of boys, but I didn't want to give Pablo the same response that I gave Pedri.

Walking over, I could feel the eyes of the boys on me. "How you been baby?" I smiled at him. He's always been affectionate towards me, but this was artificial in a way. He was trying to make someone jealous. "You going out tonight?" I nodded. "Clubbing downtown." He looked impressed. "Going with Salma? I can try and ask around for that girl to be there."

"I'm so happy that you're finally going out with me. It's been what, four months?" Salma put on one of her sexiest outfits. I told her that the girl from before would be there, to that she immediately went looking for the hottest thing she owned.

"Yeah well you're obviously not planning on hanging out with me." Since she had gone out the other night, she couldn't stop talking about this girl she met.

We got picked up in a cab and made our way downtown. Upon entering the club we realised it wasn't exactly how we had pictured it. It wasn't so much a 'casual' club as it was a 'celebrity' club.

I recognised majority of the people as other footballers and internally rolled my eyes at the idea of spending time with some stuck up male footballer. Like Pedri for example.

When we found Lucy and a few of the other girls, we took a seat at the bar and ordered a round of shots. It had been a while since I had drunk alcohol, but I promised myself that I wouldn't drink too much. And I was usually good at keeping to my word, so I limited myself to three drinks.

"Y/N, Salma's been telling me about this guy you've been seeing." Ona said, taking a shot in full. "I hope he's hot at least." I looked at Salma unimpressed, she loved telling people about my life, to the point where even the physios knew who Alex was. "He's just a classmate, I mean like we've hooked up a few times but I'm not really into him."

The girls and I chatted for at least twenty minuets before suggesting we move to the dance floor. The DJ was playing mostly Bad Bunny with a few western songs, and soon enough the alcohol hit me, and I was in my groove. I was dancing with so many different people, and I could've sworn I had accidentally grinded up on Jude Bellingham before Ingrid came over to me, telling that someone was looking for me.

I followed in the direction of where she had pointed and found myself on the outside of the floor, but next to a tall man. "Hola Y/N." Hector bent down to give me a kiss on the cheek. "Hola."

"I really think we should hang out some day." I blushed at his words. "I'd like that. Maybe you could come to one of my games? Hang up your pride and wear the jersey of your old club." I nudged him playfully as he sarcastically shook his head. "Let's dance." He pulled me by the hand into the centre of the floor.

He held my hips as we swayed together, feeling the music and each other. "I though you'd be a better dancer Y/N." I looked up at him confused. "I'm only joking Carino. You look beautiful." I dug my head into his chest as we danced.

Now did I want to hook up with him? No, not really. But you can't hate a girl for giving into some attention. "Hector." He looked at me, almost freezing. "Does Pedri hate me?" He laughed. A guttural laugh.

"I'm not sure. Why?" I sighed. "He's just been a real dickhead lately. Always up in my personal businesses and constantly trying to piss me off." Hector smiled at me. "Yeah I don't think he hates you." He continued, "If it makes you feel any better, I think he actually likes you. I mean at least when I was at Barca he wouldn't shut up about this new prodigy." Ok now I was intrigued. "Go on."

"Well I mean he would always hang around at training to watch you play. To me at least I found it a little creepy, but I think it all stemmed from a crush." Yeah what the fuck.

"There's no way. Like he actually despises me." Hector shrugged as we came to a full stop of dancing. "Well maybe something's changed, but trust me, he likes you. Or used to I don't know."

I literally did not know what to think. So Pedri has been a fan all along??? Interesting…

After leaving Hector for the bathroom I felt a presence behind me as I walked down the corridor. Turning around nonchalantly, I came face to face with Pedri. Of fucking course he’d be here.

"Having fun?" He was holding a glass of what looked like water. Of course he didn't drink. "Yeah it's chill." I went to turn around when he grabbed my shoulder. "Sorry if I've been a dick, I've just, I don't know. Sorry." He was smiling at me. Smiling.

"Oh, um yeah okay you're all good." Before I could make my way back to the bathroom, his hands clasped my face, pulling me in for a kiss.

My brain wanted to push him away, but my body wanted more of him. I kissed him back passionately before he pulled away, hands still on my cheek. "Holy shit, I'm so sorry." He looked at me for no more than a second before walking back out.

He just kissed me. I kissed him. Pedri. Fucking Pedri.

"Y/N you're on, get up." Jonatan called for me, I was cozy on the bench watching my team struggle against Wolfsburg in a tight Champions League group stage match.

I hopped out of my seat and walked over to him. "I need you to turn this around. It's looking sloppy out there." He pointed to the field, everyone was tired, and Wolfsburg would break the deadlock soon enough if no stepped up. "I need a goal. I need you to be the captain out there, ok?" I nodded.

It was going to be tough. A thousand things were running through my head. Pedri was one of them, and I knew he was in the crowd. Alex too. God why do I do this to myself.

As I walked over to the fourth official, I could hear the crowd begin to get louder. I knew I was popular amongst the Barca fans, but hearing how excited they were to see me come on, gave me a new type of confidence.

I ran onto the pitch after I was subbed on, and genuinely put my heart into it. I had a few shots, although none were good enough to get past the keeper.

I built up with Keira, and finally had a chance to bury the game. I struck the ball with my laces from a few meters outside the box. I watched it curl into the top right of the goal and the crowd erupted.

I ran to the corner post where I did a knee slide, and was followed closely behind my teammates. Everyone was cheering.

The whistle blew after an agonizingly long fifteen minutes and the stadium erupted once more. We had slid past into a comfortable 1-0 win and I was absolutely buzzing. Jonatan pulled me in for a hug, and soon enough I was being thrown in the air by my teammates.

We did a lap of the field, taking photos and thanking the fans for supporting us. I had given my jersey to a young fan, in exchange for a bag of Haribos which were delicious.

When we had reached the bench and tunnel, I made direct eye contact with Pedri. It wasn't short either. He was still in the stands, in a full Barca tracksuit, looking down at me. And then he smiled.

I smiled back at him before I almost got practically tackled. Alex lifted me off the ground, and spun my around. "You did so well." He placed me back on the ground and leaned in for a kiss, I pulled back. "Oh, thanks Alex." I looked back into the crowd to where Pedri was standing, but I couldn't see him anymore.

"Please let me take you out tonight. I have us booked in for a beautiful Italian restaurant." I physically cringed. I don't know why I have such conflicting feeling towards Alex.

"Sorry Alex, but I've got recovery and stuff. I'd love to go another day." Lieeeeee. He looked down to the ground. "Yeah uh you're all good. Well done today." He smiled cowardly and grazed my arm before walking away.

"Rejected lover boy once again?" Salma came up to me, linking her arm through mine. I hadn't yet told her about Pedri. At first I didn't even see why I should, but I really needed to tell somebody.

"I feel like I'm leading him on, but I seriously do not wanna be his girlfriend or whatever he thinks we are." We walked into the tunnel and I was pulled into an interview.

"Y/N, that was a spectacular performance. However, many fans are confused as to why you weren't in the starting line up. Can you give us some insight into that?"

"Yeah well I wasn't training to me best standards in all honesty." The journalist nodded, signalling for me to continue. "Here at Barca everyone's replaceable. If you're not performing, someone else takes your place. It's the nature of this club. It's one of the reasons why I love it so much."

"How'd it feel to get a goal? It was a real tight game there, and you seemed to loosen it all up.

"I never take scoring for granted. It's a feeling I chase. As much as I love dribbling or assisting, or even tackling, nothing brings me as much joy as scoring does."

The interview continued for another couple of minutes before I made my way to a presumably empty changeroom.

Walking in, it was exactly what I guessed. I had a shower and changed into comfy clothes. Salma was driving us home, so she was probably waiting for me somewhere. I opened the door to leave the changeroom when I was met with a group. The group being Gavi, Pedri, and Salma.

Immediately, I made eye contact with Pedri who looked away. "Come on sissy, let's get home." We began walking in twos, Salma and I, Pedri and Gavi.

"You two were on fire today. There's surely a Ballon D'or coming your way Y/N." Gavi patted my back from behind, to which I turned around and smiled. "Thanks Pablo." Salma directed most of the conversation, Pedri barely spoke. Something was up with him.

"Pepi and I were so pissed when we couldn't see you on the starting lineup." Gavi said, making Pedri blush. "He started freaking out, thought you were injured and everything." I smiled to myself. It was cute I couldn't even lie.

"That's not true." His cheeks turned a darker shade of pink. He was embarrassed and it was adorable.

"Salma I need to tell you something." She jumped over the couch and sat next to me. "Spill." She then handed me a bowl of chocolate covered strawberries.

"Ok. So I may have kissed Pedri. No he kissed me. But I kissed him back." Her jaw dropped, and jumped straight up, dancing around me. "I called it! I fucking knew it!" I rolled my eyes.

"Yeah well you can calm it down because I think he hates me again." She sat down immediately. "Well you know how Alex came down?" She nodded. "Well I guess Pedri must've seen because he's been giving me the cold shoulder. He didn't even speak to me while we were all walking."

"So do you want me to set you two up?" I smacked her. "Don't you fucking dare."

omg guys sorry this took so long. lmk if you wanna be tagged in the next part and send me reqs!!

PART THREE HEREEEE

[hyukaphobicsworld]

In red we trust

⚠️WARNING⚠️

This will not be like my other drabbles. This book is for mature audiences only. Please know this book is only for imagination and is not based on true or wanting events. Thank you

Second warning(s): Deadpool!felix x Harley Quinn!afab reader, enemies to lovers, controlling, murder, blood, fear kink, oral sex (female receiving), Felix hitting it from the back, Felix is really a bit perverted, samurai/killer Felix, slight misogyny in the beginning (Felix learns his lesson), cheating, masturbation (no cumming), humiliation kink, Dacryphilia, leaving marks on each other, grinding, cussing, and weapons, strong ass pull out gang!!!! (TELL ME IF I MISS ANYTHING!!)

Note: Guys, I have no idea what I’m yapping about. I really don’t know a thing about Harley Quinn nor Deadpool (I know more about Harley Quinn than Deadpool) They most likely won’t act exactly like the character nor be even

He runs around and swing his trusty swords through all of them. One by one, they all fall down with nothing but scars as the last piece of evidence. None of this is a joke to him, none of this is funny to him. He takes this serious. He gets people behind him, in front of him, and beside him.

The leader, boss, can only stand there confused. He sees all of his men be taken down by one dude in red. A man who is incredibly powerful. But not physically like Felix. Felix believes that that is all that matters. The physical power and what you can do with it. Not the controlling power.

The leader sits there in shock when there is no man left of his. He’s scared and is only left to think, “Who is the foe in all black and red, two swords on his back and an intimidating mask down his face? And how the hell is he so good at fighting?” Felix starts walking towards the leader and the leader backs up until his back was pressed against the cold wall behind him

“Who are you?!” The leader aggressively asked. “State yourself?!”

Felix slowly pulled off his mask and smirked at the shocked man’s face. “The names Deadpool.” He said in deep, alarming, and intimidating voice. Nothing scared the leader more. “Is that yo-“ were his last words before Felix quickly brought out the gun and shot him. Leaving nothing but dead people on the ground for evidence. He rolled his eyes and put his mask right back on. He starts whistling while walking out into the hall. He trips over one of the bodies and stumbles. “Woah! Excuse you!” He throws his arms up in the air. He was talking to the person he brutally murdered with his swords, actions as if they were still alive and they did that on purpose. Felix walked down to the dead man and kneeled. “So you really aren’t even going to excuse yourself? Jeez, people these days.” He rolled his eyes while chuckling to himself. “I’m sorry, Deadpool!” Felix said, making the dead person’s lip move in sync to his voice.

“Yo!” You scream from across the hall. Felix looks back and tilts his head in confusion. You looked like nothing but a shadowy figure to him. He snickered to himself when his vision got cleared and saw it was nothing but a woman with a metal baseball bat in her hands. He got up and wiped his hands. “Who are you? I don’t want you ending up like…” He pointed at all the dead people all over the floor and shrugged his shoulders. “Plus,” he started, putting his hands behind his back and standing from on his heels and back on his toes. “I don’t like to fight women. Why do that when we both know who will win this fight?”

You snickered. Of course, you’re a woman and he’s a man which obviously means he’s better and has to go easy on you. What a pathetic view on women. You pointed your bat at him and closed on of your eyes. “Seems like you got all the work here done. So all I need you top do is step aside, toots!” You smiled and wiggled your head back and forth, causing your pigtails to move. Felix stops moving and stands still. “No can do, pink. You see, I have this whole-“ He started but you couldn’t stand his blabbering. You ran towards him with your bat swinging up.

“Well damn, couldn’t let me finish?” He asked, sarcastically. He pulled out his blade and ran up to you too. When he got close enough, he swung and missed. You jumped from the left wall to the right wall and landed your whole body weight on his shoulders. He moved around and placed his hands on your thighs while grunting. “You look eatable from the view right here.” He tried to joke. You rolled your eyes and picked the pistol out your pocket and spined it around your finger before shooting him in the neck. He fell to the ground and so did you.

Felix holds his neck, trying to stop the blood from coming out. You clicked your tongue at him and found some type of wire with on the ground. He’s going to die anyways. What’s the point in tying him up? “Well,” you begin, wiping off your hands, “It was nice to meet you, Mr…” You paused, trying to catch his name. But all that came out of his mouth was gurgling sounds. You chuckled and walked off with your bat on your shoulders and your arms wrapping around it.

You walk into the room where the leader and all of his men were murdered. You whistled. He did all of this? Couldn’t have done it alone. You could. But, with the way you easily defeated him, no way he did it by himself. You laughed and took the little paper you had in the back of your shorts and punched in the numbers to the code. But it didn’t work. The hell? You could have sworn these were the numbers the man told you last week? Even after you killed all of his colleagues right in front of him, he still lied. “Well played chubby desk dude, well played.” You said to yourself. Before you even got to punch in the numbers again, you heard light foot step and you immediately swinged you back to see.. that dude in the red again?

How? You just shot him, but no time to stop and think! He’s already coming at you with a sword. “Didn’t think I would just let you do that to me so easily, did you pink?” He snickered and you kicked his leg, but he didn’t budge, still trying to cut your waist. You managed to jump over his blade and kick his face while you were up in the air. His body stood still but his face trembled a bit, causing you to get a good look at his neck. What the hell? You don’t even see the bullet wound! It’s like you just didn’t shoot him with a gun! When you landed back on the ground, you dropped your bat. You did a backbend into a flip behind you to get your bat back. “Oh, you’re flexible! I like that, pink!” You knocked one of his blades out his hand with the bat. “How the hell did you not die?!” You asked, still trying to hit him. He laughed and grabbed his blade back. “Because I’m a ghosssttt!” He said, trying to intimidate the voice of a ghost. Jesus he was annoying.

You growled and ran to hit him with your bat but he got you before you could get him. He sliced you thigh which cause you to lose balance, but still have you up in the air. Though you were landing right for him, he catches you. He look at you for a second too long. Staring at you and yur body down before he threw you against the wall harshly. You groaned and got back up. “Still not tired, pink?” He asked. “Never, red!” You ran and he went up, so you went down. You slid across the floor and kicked his calf. He fell straight to the ground while you got your bat back. You quickly got up before him and swung the bat across his face, making him lie right back down. “Now stay down, red!” You yelled at him. You put in the numbers again and it did open this time. You smiled, this is what pudding wanted! But when you opened it, there was nothing but a sticky note with “haha” written in a dark red. It was him! You look and he wasn’t on the ground anymore, he was on the widow, about to jump. He looked back to you and smirked. “The names Deadpool, pink!” He laughed and jumped out the window. And although this was a high building, none of his bones broke when he reached the concrete. Who the hell is he? And why is he so invincible yet sexy?

——————————————————————————————————————————————————————

Another day of unexpected catastrophes. Mr. J is going to be upset when you tell him one dude dressed in red and black from head to toe, heavy handed, deep voiced, small waist, sexy, swift moevment fighter snatched the information he needed right from your hands. What will you say then? That you were too distracted by trying to keep your legs tied together from the warmth that you could feel going on in your core? Or the fact you only stayed for longer than you needed to because you were trying to see what he looked like without the mask? If he sounded that sexy, he had to have been sexier without the mask.

No Harley! You have Pudding! You have joker! Sure, he’s leaving you alone very often but expects you to do the above and beyond for him. I mean you had to go through all that work and get can’t even get you a can of pineapples from the store without complaining! Ugh! But he is still your boyfriend! So if you even thought about red while simultaneously sneaking your hand down your underwear, fingering yourself because of the way he grabbed you and threw you, you are a disgusting monster. But here you are, doing exactly what you didn’t want to do. Disgusting monster.

You touch yourself to only the thought of him as your lips opened agape and let out tiny whimpers. You could feel the tense tension when you first saw him. Though you can’t tell his facial expressions (because of the whole mask thing) you wanted him anyways. His voice so deep and sexy. Calling you pink and his sarcastic and funny remarks. God, he was so annoyingly sexy. Your fingers went faster when you remember the grip on he had on you. Forgetting the moments he hurt you and replacing them with the pleasurable moments is something you just learned to develop with Joker. You were already gripping your bedsheets and then you remember his words, “Oh, you’re flexible! I like that, pink.” sends you through the roof, almost getting you to cum.

“Honey! I’m home!” Were all the words you needed to hear to throw you off your game. Great. Your not even horny anymore

——————————————————————————————————————————————————————

This time, you have a new location. Joker wasn’t so happy when he found out you were not able to get the first one. He mumbled off something with the words of “have to do everything by myself again.” Which was infuriating to you because he never did any work. But, nevertheless, that’s your pudding and you love him. Now, time to get information again. The riddler won’t stop himself in the act and it is anything for your pudding, am I right?

This time, you come prepared in case of any distractions. You got greanades, baseball bat, pistol, snare trap, and you personal favorite, Jack in the box! (A distraction tool.) You are unstoppable. Not another man in your mind, no one in your way, you feel greatly confident. Who wouldn’t when your you?

You get into your car and tap on your speaker that connects you to Joker. “I’m on my way pudding. I’ma make you proud,” You said while smiling. “You better.” He said back. You turn it off and get ready to drive down the location you panned to stop at.

——————————————————————————————————————————————————————

You made it there. But this time, it was full of people. Yes! Finally, you get to get some credit into doing something. They all started charging at you like a bunch of humans chasing a rat. Can you really blame them? A girl with crazy clown makeup, two pigtails, and a baseball bat comes in when it specifically said “NO WEAPONS!!”. But, you still kick there ass. Your bat swings across their heads and they all get taken out.

Your gymnastic skills coming in handy from time to time. That’s when more started to come. But it seems like they were running away then actually running towards you. You ignored it and kicked every single one of their asses. Throwing your bat all around. Getting people from the bathrooms, meeting rooms and even elevators. In which you use to get upstairs. You’re left with nothing but blood all over your body. You use the elevator to get upstairs as you whistled. And then, you saw him again. The dude from yesterday.

Red. He was there again. His facial expressions were visible through the mask and it upset you. Because you could really see when he resisted his eyebrow up. Stupid motherfucker. Why is he even here? He took your stuff yesterday and now he is here for a round two? You growled. “Hey! You gotta be fucking kidding me.” You yelled at him and he threw his arms up. “How are you not dead? You feel off a seven foot high building!”

“Nice to see you too, pink.” He laughed and took out his swords. “But this time, I really need you to go away.” He squints his eyes and talking a little louder so his voice isn’t muffled behind that stupid mask. Stupid fucking mask. What does he look like without it? Seriously, he better be drop-dead ugly so you don’t feel bad when you kill him. “If anything, you were in my w-“ you were about to finish your sentence till he threw a tiny knife out his pocket and threw it straight at you until you caught it. “Well that was just rude.” You rolled your eyes and threw the pocket knife at the wall.

You took out your bat and started dashing at him again just like yesterday. He came toward you as well as both came in a baseball to sword competition. It was insane. He was just like you. He looked so brittle and fragile. That was only because he was so skinny. But he was just as strong, coordinated and unpredictable as you. Both use humor, both really good with weapons but there is something about, and that is that he will not die. You can’t brush it off. He is almost as invincible as you.

“Harley!” You heard coming from your earpiece. When you tried to reach for it, Felix kicked your bat out of you hand and your ear piece out your ear. “Damn it!” You said and Felix pushed you to the ground. He won this time. Felix put his foot on your back and grabbed your pigtails, pulling them back. “Okay, pink. Let me ask you this, w-“ Before he talks you spit on his mask. He stood for a bit then wiped the spit off. When he did, he wiped it off with two fingers. He made you open your mouth and put his two fingers in your mouth back where your spit belonged. He chuckled as he watched you be defeated by him, yet you still let him torture you. You are literally choking on his fingers with your spit clogged down your mouth yet this is the hottest thing that ever happened to you.

“Harley! Harley, babe! You still there?” Joker called out. The ear pierce played out loud now that it wasn’t in your ear anymore. Felix chuckled darkly and took his fingers out of your mouth. He looked over at you and raised a brow. “That’s you name, isn’t it pink? Or, I’m sorry, Harley.” You could only glare at him, not wanting to say a word back out of humiliation and shame. “Pretty, thing.” He said, caressing your cheek.

“He said babe, didn’t he? That’s your boyfriend? You have a boyfriend?” He asked, deepening his voice with every question asked. And again, you could only glare at him, but he knew what your glare meant. “He is, isn’t he? And here I was wishing you were single.” With his foot still on your back, he smashed the ear piece. The only way for you to communicate or even go back to Joker.

You were upset, that was hot at first, but now, this is just unessecary. You set your palms on the floor and used your arms to lift you up. You kicked him off your back and made him fall to the ground. You walked on your hands to be your bat back and when you did, you stood back on your feet. Felix got up and started stretching. “You are so flexible, Harley. You don’t know how much that turns me on.” He chuckled. He brought out his other sword and he smirked. He started whistling but you noticed his legs were opened widely. If you squeezed yourself small enough, you could kick his ass. So you did. You slide across the floor and went between his legs, then used your bat to hit his dick.

When he fell on his knees, holding his crotch, you were about to leave to find the information you originally came for, but you couldn’t. Not without knowing one question at least. What does he look like? You needed to get your information quickly and find some type of way to get to Joker but your curiosity got the best of you. You slowly walked up to him and laid him over on his back. Before he could even protest, you got on his lap.

“Shut up!” You yelled at him and he growled. But he did as you said, he stayed shut. His hands were free, he could stop you anytime if he wanted to. He could throw you, punch you, hell he could make you choke on his fingers again, but he didn’t. He didn’t move a damn muscle. You quickly reached for his mask and snatched it off his face. Jesus he was so fucking hot.

He had pink lips and a well defined jawline. It was sharp and noticeable. This he had pink plump lips that were covered in sweat, but he licked it off with his lips. His nose was round but pointy at the same time. And his hair blonde with the tips dyed red. Red was a real good nickname for him. He grunted in defeat, just like you were but this time he did do something with his hands. His hands landed straight on your waist. Your reactiveness called and lied his hands down on his wrists before giving him a look, almost for consent. He pushed your hips back a bit further to the point where you were on his hard dick. He was excessively hard to the point where you gasped as you felt his dick.

He rolled his hips and moaned at the cause of any friction on his dumb cock. But he was hot when he threw his head back, showing more of his Adams apple. “Oh yeah, pink. Just like that” He said in his dep voice, This time, you heard his original accent. You knew it was wrong. You were in love with Joker but god you were horny. And Joker wasn’t giving you this type of satisfaction in bed.

He unzipped his pants and let his cock spring out of his pants. You gulped at his length. Not even Joker got this hard in the bed. “If you want to.” He whispered to you and you cleared your throat. Well, this is an obvious answer. No.

“Yes.” You said, grabbing his cock and start licking the tip. What are you doing? Of course you should stop but his sweet moans make you want to keep going. He’s like a bitch in heat who hasn’t been fucked yet. You started taking his full length down your throat and he groaned, holding your head still as he started to fuck your mouth. “Oh fuck. Stay just like that Harl.” He said, there goes a new nickname. His sexy deep voice mixed with Australian accent keeps sending vibrations in a place you don’t want to talk about.

Felix lets out his last grunt before coming all in your mouth. Nothing but long, white sperm dripping from your mouth. You looked up at him and he looked back up at you. Both of your eyes landed on each others lips and you got pulled into a heated make out session. Both of your tongues attacking one another’s. You both moaned into the kiss as you saw his cock getting harder. He started to make his way down your your neck and left marks all over your neck as you moaned. “Red, re-“ He cut you off and put a hand on your mouth. “Felix. I’m Felix.” He actually said his name. He might be getting too comfortable.

“So short. Wanted’ to rip them off since I first saw you.” He confesses, referring to your shorts. His voice went deeper and deeper the more he complimented you. They were some booty shorts that you wore for gymnastics. Leather and black just how you liked it. His hands snuck down to your shorts and rubbed the his hands down the silk.

With at least two swift movements, he was right on top of you. “So pretty, Harl.” He said again and slowly started to aggressively pull your tiny shorts down. Then, your pink laced panties. “Oh god” he growled and leaned his face towards your cunt. He took one quick swipe with his tongue on your cunt and your back arched up. He was so pussy-whipped for a girl that he just known yesterday. Good thing you are too.

He kept licking you up and down, eating you until there was no oxygen left in your lungs. Your gripped on his hair, pulling his face down harder. “Oh shit. Felix!” You moaned out which encouraged him to eat you more. He swirls his tongue just the way you loved, making you buck your hips against his plump lips and wet tongue.

Your legs started to close up on his head, letting him know you were almost close. But he kept moving your legs, not allowing them to close up on his head. “Stay still, bitch.” He growled. He was just so nice and giving you all these compliments, but now you’re the bitch? Great. And although you should be kicking him off you, you moaned louder. “I’m gonna cum, please!” You begged, not even know what you were begging for. It’s like you were having a stroke. Just spilling words out. He rubs your thighs and fingered you while sucking your clit.

She rolled her eyes back and came all over his fingers. You panted on the floor, catching your breath after the impassioned moment. He got up and sucked his two fingers with your cum slowly, and you watched him. You watched him lick your cum clean off his fingers. “Fuck..” You blurt out as your body collapses on the floor.

You just cheated on your boyfriend with a dude who you were trying to murder to get out your way yesterday. What the actual fuck are you doing. You pulled up your shorts to which Felix was confused to. “Hey, I’m not do-“ before he could finish, you kicked him in his face and booked it, running straight to the file room. And you have to admit, it is impressive how well Felix can take out so many men with two swords and maybe a gun. Because all of your work downstairs, was an easy blow. But it’s just like yesterday when you walked into the file room. Nothing but dead men with sword wounds on their back, head or for some odd reason, their pelvis. Questionable, but it gets the job done.

“Shit, shit, shit!” You cuss to yourself. Felix broke your ear piece and now you have no idea what to do when you get to the file room. You don’t know if you were supposed to unlock some secret code or anything. Fuck. “God, what the fuck do I do?” You cursed at yourself.

“How about not kick me when I give you the chance to cum next time?” You heard a familiar voice from behind you. No, of course it’s not Joker. You wish. It’s Felix. You turn around and back up slowly as he approaches you. “I was being nice to you, pink. I thought you were a sweet girl. Why are you so mean to me?” You kept walking back till your back hit the cold wall that made your back arch.

“I have a boyfriend.” You stated. “You knew that because you asked me, and I responded.” “Didn’t seem like you did a few minutes ago.” God he was so cocky, you wanted to punch him. You wanted to punch him for being right. Because, to be logical, you just sucked a dudes dick and then let him eat you out, knowing damn well you have a boyfriend. “Yeah, that’s the problem, Felix! I have a boyfriend!” “You have a boyfriend but you’re confused on why I’m doing better than him, right?” Yeah, that it. You punching him for being right, starting now.

You threw a straight punch, aiming for his face but he caught it just in time. He turned around and bent you over the table, leaving your arms behind your back. “Am. I. Right?” He asked, emphasizing each word. As much as you tried to squirm out of his touch, it was no use. “Yes..” you were confused on how a dude who was trying to kill you yesterday is better at fucking you with his tongue than the man you have been dating for 6 years now.

He sneaks his hand down the curve of your ass, then down your cunt that was soaking. “May I?” He asked, insisting that he was asking for your consent to fuck you. He was a cold blooded samurai, but he wasn’t a rapist. Good to know. “Yes.” You said, clearly. So clear, in fact, he raced to pull down your shorts again and take out his cock. “I’ll pull out, I promise.” His voice was so sincere considering what he just did to you. He leaned down and kissed your soft neck, distracting you from the face he was slipping his cock inside you right now.

You moaned when you felt it inside you. It was hard enough to take on your mouth, but it’s ten time harder to take him inside you. You gripped his arm and he griped your hips tighter. He slowly let you adjust to his size. “You got it. You can take it.” He reassured you as you whimpered and whined.

As soon as you fully adjusted to his size. He moved at a faster rhythm. His hips were so well coordinated with his thrusts, making it soft but pleasurable. But it didn’t seem like Felix could go that far with slow sex, because he immediately went faster. Not wasting any time and fucking you into the desk. You moaned loudly since you just got used to his size and he’s already fucking you like a dog in heat. You scraped the desk and moaned. “Oh shit, fuck.” You moaned. He grabbed both of your pigtails and pulled them back, causing your fucked out expression to show.

Felix laughs. “Oh, Harl. You’re so pretty.” He looked at you cry and wiped the tears all over your face. “Look so pretty when you cry.” He leans down and sucks your neck again as he hits your g-spot as well. It was like being overstimulated over and over again. You screamed at how good he was fucking you. He grabbed your tits, hair, face, he was touching you all over. “You’re so pretty, pink.” He said against your neck. “I’d choke you if you didn’t have a choker on right now.” You couldn’t tell if he was joking or being serious, but the pleasure didn’t want to make you find out.

“I’m gonna cum!” You moaned and he started groaning loudly. “Me too. Fuck, cum with me.” He said, pinning your hand on the desk. It only took a few more thrusts before you both came. And just like he promised, Felix pulled out just in time, cumming all over your back. “Holy shit, that was awesome.” Felix said, before you even got to get a word out, you heard someone in the halls. “Harley! Harley! Pudding!” Shit! Joker was here! “Damn it.” Your cursed and immediately pulled your shorts back up as Felix put his cock away. “I have an idea. Let me see your thingy.” Felix said and took your pocket knife and started to cut all around his body. “What the hell are you doing?! Doesn’t that hurt?!” You asked him, he wasn’t even hissing or groaning at the pain.

“Like hell. I need to cut you.” “Wait wha-“ before you could protest, he was cutting your legs, arm and even your cheek. It definitely made it look believable that you guys were fighting than fucking. “Okay, now you need to look dead.” You to,d him and he shrugged his shoulders. “Easy.” He takes the pocket knife and stabs his neck, just like how you did the first time. “Felix!” You whispered to him, trying to make sure Joker couldn’t hear you. “Lix! Dumbass! Why would you do that! I said fake!” You dropped to your knees as he dropped to the floor. “It wasn’t obvious from the first time you met me, doll? I’m mortal! I don’t die. I’ll see you soon, pink. I’ll see you soon. Now get off the floor and stop showing compassion for me or else your boyfriend will know we did something.” He managed to gurgle out and you laughed. Always found how to be funny in the wrong times.

Felix eyes closed and you got up. When you walked out into the hallway, you saw him, you saw Joker.

“Jeongin!” You ran to him and hugged him, acting like you didn’t just let another man fuck you. Jeongin held you back, picking you off the floor and spinning you around. He looked at all your fake ass scars and runs his finger through the cut on your cheek. “Your okay, right Harley?” Oh yeah, you were more than okay. You were fucked out of your mind. But you just nodded. “I’m alright pudding!”

“I’m sorry I made you do this alone. You made sure everyone was gone?” He asked you, always making sure you did all the work. “The job is done.” You told him, smiling. “Let’s get going then.” He pecked your lips and you pecked his back. He held your hand as you walked with your pudding.

In the car, you felt something weird on the back of your thigh. You look to see what it was and it was a note. “Call me, pink. ***(***)****” Seriously. How did he even manage to do that? “Jeongin, I love you.”

————————————————————————————————————————————————————————

Crazy plot twist that Jeongin was actually joker 🤪🤪. I’m like sooooooo smartt to do thattttt. Anyways, tell me if I should make another one. This actually took way longer, so I hope it’s worth the wait! Good night, morning, or afternoon! (It’s 12 am for me rn)

[ama0310]

The President's Daughter (2)

Character: Finnick Odair

Requested: Sorta lol

Type: Angst/Fluff

Summary: Arianna Flemings-Snow, the adopted daughter of Coriolanus Snow, bravely volunteers for the 75th Annual Hunger Games. Now it's training day for the tributes.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Arianna would be lying if she said she didn't like training.

She did. She trains everyday for at least two hours. Last week she threw knives at holograms for four hours straight and loved it.

Even after winning her games she knew she had to be prepared for everything. At fifteen she realized how unprepared she was for life, and she was never going to feel that way again.

What she didn't like was having to train with nineteen other people that will want to murder her for their own survival. Obviously minus Mags, Finnick, her district partner, and Johanna.

It's not that she was worried. She just never wanted to return to how inhumane she was all those years ago. Training for fun was one thing, but training for the Hunger Games was completely different.

"Snow White in the flesh. What's going on in that pretty little head of yours?" She smiles instantly turning around finding Finnick in his uniform.

"My fisherman." He laughed and put his arm around her walking her through the training center towards Mags.

She looked at each District pairs stopping her eyes at the District 1 pair throwing their knives at the holograms. Gloss smirks at Cashmere before meeting Arianna's eyes and winks.

Finnick pulls her her towards him glancing at the man, "What's that about? Making an alliance with the Careers?"

She shakes her head looking around to District 3 trying to create fire, "Nope." She then turns to see Finnick staring right at her. "I'm serious. Gloss invited me to the Careers and I told him I would ask you. You're the only alliance I really care about and you know it."

"I was thinking about the newbies." Though Arianna knew that's where he was heading she was skeptical. The girl seemed nice, but her father gave her one rule and it was to not fraternize with the enemy. And Katniss is his #1 enemy currently. "Unless you weren't?"

She runs a hand through her hair, "Can we even trust them Finn? At least with the careers we know they'll have our back until the end."

"I'm sure Gloss would stab me before we even make it halfway." Jealousy bright in his eyes. Gloss definitely had a crush on Arianna, he doesn't blame him though, everyone does.

She ruffles his hair up a bit, "And I would make sure every ounce of blood drains slowly and agonizingly out of his body if he does that."

"My wicked Snow White." He smirks at her threat. He knows if the roles were reversed he would do the same thing. That's how their relationship goes. Even outside of the games every time there was a possible threat towards his girl he was always one step ahead already ready to rip some heads off. She boops his nose before continuing their walk down the pathway.

The moment they made it to the hooks sections she immediately hugged Mags, "Let me see what you're doing Mags." The old lady smiles big before licking her fingers and continuing her work.

Finnick couldn't help but admire the girl as she was following Mags' directions. She was captivating. He couldn't help but stare. Realizing he was staring a little bit too long he starts observing the rest of the Victors. He then noticed Katniss on the other side looking at the ropes. He comes up next to her and grabs onto the rope she was tying (horribly).

"Girl on Fire can't even tie a rope. Hm interesting. Here let me. "He starts wrapping the rope around his hand twirling each strand beautiful. "Let me show you the best knot in the arena." Katniss still stares at him annoyance visible on her face making him chuckle. "Arianna better not see you staring at me. Look at the knot not my beautiful face. This is the bit where it gets complicated."

He then puts it around his neck, tightens it until it's snug against his throat. He grabs the end of the rope, "And this is for...well you know..." He then pretends to be hanging.

The girl in front of him smiles sarcastically, "Fun"

He turns to the girl offering her the end of his rope, "Do you want to take me for a walk?"

Katniss glared at the man about the leave when she retorts, "Shouldn't you be asking your girlfriend that?"

He chuckles keeping the rope around his neck before pointing to the Knives section. "She's a bit busy being a badass right now."

The duo walks towards where all the tributes seem to be admiring the young girl.

As the first holographic target flickered to life, Arianna's hand moved with lightning speed. A gleaming silver knife soared through the air, embedding itself precisely in the center of the target.

A particularly challenging hologram materialized—a ferocious muttation with razor-sharp teeth. The tension in the air thickened as Arianna locked eyes with the holographic beast.

With a swift, controlled motion, she flung a set of knives in rapid succession, hitting the muttation's vulnerable points. The hologram dissipated in a burst of light, and the crowd erupted into cheers

Arianna, unfazed by the attention, took a moment to acknowledge the crowd with a nod and a confident smile then hugs a proud-looking Mags. "This is my go-to knife and now it's yours. Use it well."

As people were finally going back to their training she stops in front of Katniss and Finnick.

She looks at the rope around his neck while raising her eyebrow. She twirls the loose end of the rope around her hand and tugs hard making him immediately lose his balance and lean towards the girl smirking. "I like this."

Finnick couldn't help but reciprocate the feeling. "You and me both...I was just showing Girl on Fire here the best knot in the arena."

Arianna ties her up in a ponytail before crossing her arms. " You learned from the master. He was the one to teach me many years ago how to do that. When he wasn't even my mentor." She then points to where she was. "I was teaching Mags how to throw a knife. I think she was too busy hyping me up to actually be looking."

"Couldn't leave Snow White in distress. The best part of the Hunger Games is the rope tying." Arianna lightly hit his chest. "And let's be honest here Mags definitely agreed to the demonstration so she can show you off. Very wise woman she is."

Katniss cleared her throat making the duo look at her. Peta also decided to stand next to his fiancé. "That was impressive."

The short compliment made the girl smile, "Don't worry you won't be at the end of my throws." Peta sighed in relief making the duo laugh out loud. "Hopefully we'll be able to be allies, right Finnick?" He nods and winks at Katniss before following the girl pulling his rope.

"If I knew you liked being dominant I would've given you a rope a long time ago." Arianna couldn't help but laugh letting the rope go and taking it off him, she caressed her hand around the rawish area. An intimate yet beautiful moment between the two. Both looking at one another intensely.

Peta and Katniss were still looking at the pair who were a few feet away from them. "So what do you think?"

Katniss really didn't know what to think. Finnick's threat last time ran through her head. Seeing them now definitely solidifies her thoughts of them being together.

It's very interesting seeing those two claim they're not together yet so openly show their care for one another. A part of her loves the idea of a true love connection at the games, but she can't really see the playboy of the capitol and the tyrants' daughter together as a symbol of love.

Now the two were at the plants section with Arianna quickly matching all the plants correctly. "She's brilliant and skilled, but I don't trust either of them."

Peta liked the duo. He understands Katniss' skepticism, but he also doesn't want the duo as possible enemies especially if they're so willing to be allies.

He put an arm on her shoulder, "If we get Arianna, then we get Finnick, Mags, and Johanna by association. It honestly makes sense."

~~~~~~`

"Well, sweetheart, you got your pick of the litter." Haymitch folds his hands giving their duo a smile.

"I want Arianna."

[samirant]

Dungeon Crawler Carl & You

*taps microphone*

Okay, so I've been going off about Dungeon Crawler Carl for months now and I do not see it stopping at any point, so let's see if I can entice one or two of you to join in my madness.

DCC is Lit RPG and written like a video game come to life, from the point of view of the contestants trapped within the game. There are levels to conquer and loot boxes and quests and an AI running things that has a very tenuous hold on stability to begin with and doesn't keep it for very long.

Carl is just... a guy. He's just a guy with a traumatic backstory that he's squished deep down inside himself because he doesn't like drama and he thinks he's doing just fine because it's done, you know? It's in the past, can't change it, can't hurt him anymore.

(It can hurt him. It does hurt him.)

The world as we know it is destroyed in a split second, Carl surviving by mere happenstance and the only reason he goes into the dungeon is that he will literally freeze to death otherwise. At no point is this guy searching for glory or thinking he's a savior, he's just trying to survive another day. That Carl happens to have his ex-girlfriend's prize-winning tortie Persian cat with him is a coincidence - and it turns out to be his major lifeline in the entire series. Princess Donut is his partner in crime, his bestie for life and if he ever loses her, he will lose everything. Goodbye to the last vestiges of his sanity.

The first couple levels are pretty contained, Carl & Donut learning the ropes and how to survive every encounter with increasingly powerful enemies who want nothing more than to see them dead, the eyes of the universe and the corporations running the shitshow ever focusing on them and trying to eke out as much profit as possible at the same time.

Then they meet other survivors - both good and misled - and the beauty of humanity comes out, the sacrifices they are willing to make for one another, the knowledge that they aren't likely to survive, but they make the right choices anyway because dying might be bad, but letting each other down is worse.

The secondary characters grow in complexity with every level. Where it was once just Carl & Donut, it becomes dozens of characters, from all over the world, all of them gifted in their own way, all of them fighting as best they can, some of them betrayed, some of them dying, some of them choosing to go out on their own terms. Men and women and animal alike, they are individual and committed to the greater good.

Matt Dinniman has written a series that takes an emotional toll on its readers: pain, loss, horror, humor, desperation, walking through life with an unrelenting grief. There are dick jokes and drug-dealing, lava-spitting llamas and riffs on Wonderwall and lines like: Trauma does that, I thought. It's an explosion with your heart at the center. It changes everything all at once.

Also, there are velociraptors.

And a decapitated, talking sex doll head that wants to kill everyone's mothers.

It's a LOT of stuff going on, all right?

And just as you think the story can't get any better, enter Jeff Hays. Our audiobook narrator, our man of a hundred distinct voices. Good god, he's phenomenal. I've listened to so many books and while there are some very talented narrators out there, Jeff Hays leaves them in the motherfucking dust. I honest to god thought he was using an app to manipulate his voice for different characters until I saw him narrating in real time and I was utterly blown away by his talent.

The combination of this story by Matt Dinniman and narration by Jeff Hays has me going back, time and time again. I recommend the experience wholeheartedly and hope you'll give it a chance.