#you are the best friend and i am so thankful for you | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

loojii · 1 day ago

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♥️ Prim and Proper ♥️

I've been asked before about more info about these silly characters of mine and even though I hoped to draw most of it I thought it would be nice to write it down too. I am not English or the best writer so I did ask chat GPT to format it better for me!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Riddle x King of Hearts oc Simply how they met and to communicate Prim's personality a bit better! Like the King of Hearts, often forgotten but happy :) ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Story under the line ~

Riddle’s POV

The Night Raven College library was Riddle Rosehearts’ haven—a place where rules were respected, order was preserved, and silence reigned supreme. At least, it was supposed to.

The soft symphony of pages turning and quills scratching was disrupted by bursts of giggling and whispers. Riddle’s brows furrowed, his concentration shattered.

The offenders were four girls from Lady Mystic College, currently permitted to use the library while their own was under renovation. They sat at a table in the far corner, their uniforms pristine and polished, yet their behavior anything but.

Three of them leaned in close, whispering and snickering, their laughter bubbling up despite the clear disapproval of nearby students. The fourth girl, however, sat quietly at the edge of the group.

Riddle hadn’t noticed her at first, his irritation focused on the noise. But as he rose from his seat and made his way toward them, she caught his eye.

She was smaller than her friends, with blonde curls tied into two neat pigtails. Her dark blue eyes flitted nervously between her tablemates and the books in front of her. Braces gleamed faintly while her upperlip rested on them. Unlike her companions, she seemed more like an observer than a participant.

“Excuse me,” Riddle said sharply as he reached their table.

The three louder girls turned to him, blinking in mock surprise. “Oh, hi!” one of them said, her smile overly sweet.

“This is a library,” Riddle stated, his tone clipped. “Your noise is disrupting others. Please keep your voices down.”

The girls exchanged glances and giggled again. “Sorry about that,” another said, though her tone suggested she wasn’t sorry at all.

The fourth girl looked up at him, her cheeks flushing pink. “I—I’m so sorry,” she stammered. Her hands fidgeted with the edge of her book. “We will be quiet, promise!”

Riddle’s frown softened slightly. She seemed genuinely apologetic, unlike her companions. But rules were rules, and they all bore responsibility for their collective behavior.

“Just keep it down,” he said, turning on his heel and walking away.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Later, Riddle found himself standing in front of a particularly tall bookshelf, searching for a volume on advanced spell theory. The book he needed was on the highest shelf, just out of reach.

He huffed, rising onto his toes, but it was no use. He debated summoning a step stool when a familiar voice broke through his thoughts.

“Um... Excuse me,” the soft, slightly lisped voice said.

Riddle turned to see the blonde girl from earlier standing a few feet away. She was craning her neck, gazing up at a book several shelves above her head.

“I didn’t mean to bother you,” she said quickly, flushing again. “It’s just... I can’t reach it.”

Riddle glanced between her and the book. “Neither can I,” he admitted dryly, stepping closer.

Her lips twitched into a sheepish smile. “Oh, yeah-” she said, hugging her arms.

Riddle sighed, lifting his hand. With a precise flick of his fingers, the book floated down from the shelf, landing neatly in his grasp.

The girl’s eyes widened, a spark of wonder lighting them. “Wow! That’s so cool,” she said, her tone full of genuine awe.

“It’s basic magic,” Riddle replied, though he couldn’t help the slight warmth that rose at her reaction. He handed her the book.

“Thank you,” she said, her braces glinting as she smiled. “I’m Prim, by the way. I, um, wanted to apologize again that we were so noisy.”

Riddle studied her for a moment. There was a cheerfulness about her, a childlike wonder that seemed at odds with her companions. “Riddle.” introducing himself. “And it wasn’t entirely your fault.”

Prim hesitated, her expression flickering with something uncertain. “They’re not always like that,” she said, though her tone lacked conviction. “I think they just... like having fun.”

“Just make sure to not disturb others when you’re in a public library. We prefer this place to be quiet.” Riddle said, not to scold her but he feared it may have sounded like that.

“No, you’re absolutely right! It’s basic rules.” She looked down at the book Riddle just got for her. “Thank you again, Riddle!”

Riddle responded with a simple nod and she hugged the book to her chest and turned back toward her table. Riddle watched her go, noting the way her steps seemed lighter, more confident.

For the rest of the afternoon, the library was quiet. But Riddle found himself distracted, his thoughts lingering on the small girl with the blonde pigtails and wondering if she would ever realize she deserved better.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The next day, Riddle was once again settled in his usual spot in the library. The silence was pristine this time, and he relished the peaceful atmosphere. He had nearly immersed himself in his studies when he noticed movement out of the corner of his eye.

Prim.

The girl with blonde pigtails walked hesitantly into the library, clutching her books and bag. She scanned the room for a moment before her eyes landed on him. A bright smile lit her face, and she made her way over.

“Hi,” she greeted softly, her voice still carrying that slight lisp.

Riddle nodded in acknowledgment. “Good afternoon, Prim.”

To his surprise, she pulled out a chair and sat next to him, setting her books down. “I hope you don’t mind,” she said cheerfully. “It’s nice and quiet here.”

“As long as you keep it that way,” Riddle replied, his tone neutral.

Prim giggled and nodded. “Promise. I’ll be quiet.”

She opened her notebook and began working on what looked like several assignments. Riddle glanced at her out of the corner of his eye, noting the way her handwriting flowed neatly across the pages. Occasionally, she would hum softly to herself, though it wasn’t disruptive—it was oddly soothing.

After a few minutes, he broke the silence. “You’re alone today.”

Prim looked up from her work, her curls bouncing slightly as she tilted her head. “Oh, yeah. My friends are out getting lunch.”

Riddle raised an eyebrow. “They left you behind?”

Prim waved a hand dismissively, her smile unwavering. “It’s fine. I had too much homework to do anyway. Besides, they’ll bring me something back.”

Her tone was so casual, so certain, that Riddle didn’t press further. But he couldn’t help the small pang of doubt that settled in his chest.

“They do seem to leave you out quite often,” he remarked, his voice carefully measured.

Prim paused, her pencil hovering over her notebook. Then she laughed lightly. “They don’t mean to. They’re just... busy. But they’re good friends, really.”

Riddle frowned but didn’t say anything. Her unwavering cheerfulness was admirable, though he couldn’t shake the feeling that she was excusing more than she should.

They fell into a comfortable rhythm, the soft scratch of pens and the faint rustle of pages filling the air. After a while, Prim closed one notebook and opened another, switching seamlessly between assignments. Riddle noticed she wasn’t just working on a single piece of homework—she seemed to be copying her answers onto three other sheets.

He glanced at her stack of papers. Each page was identical, and she was writing the same answers in the same neat handwriting on all of them. His brow furrowed.

“Prim,” he said quietly, his curiosity getting the better of him. “Why are you doing the same homework four times?”

Prim froze for a moment, her pen poised mid-sentence. Then she looked at him, her expression sheepish but still cheerful. “Oh, um... My friends forgot to do theirs, so I’m helping out. They’re really busy, you know, with... things.”

Riddle’s frown deepened. “You’re doing their homework? All of it?”

Prim shrugged, her smile not faltering. “It’s no big deal. I’m good at this stuff, and they always help me when I need it.”

Riddle didn’t believe that for a second. He leaned back slightly, studying her. She seemed so genuinely kind, so eager to help, but he couldn’t ignore the fact that her so-called friends were clearly taking advantage of her.

Prim seemed to sense his concern because she added, “I don’t mind, really. It’s nice to feel useful.”

Riddle opened his mouth to respond, but before he could, Prim stood up, gathering her things into a neat pile. “I’m going to the restroom real quick,” she said with a smile. “Could you watch my stuff?”

He nodded, though his gaze lingered on her as she walked away.

Left alone, Riddle’s eyes drifted back to her work. The identical pages spread out in front of him confirmed what he already suspected—Prim was kind, but her kindness was being taken advantage of.

As he leaned back in his chair, waiting for her to return, Riddle couldn’t help but feel a growing sense of protectiveness toward her. She was cheerful and kind in her own way, but it was clear that she deserved better than what her so-called friends were giving her.

When Prim returned, still smiling as brightly as ever, Riddle resolved to keep an eye on her. Someone had to.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Several days went by and Riddle found himself walking through the courtyard, a book tucked under his arm. It was his usual route to the library, but the sound of laughter and chatter drew his attention.

Underneath one of the large oak trees sat the same group of girls from Lady Mystic College. Their voices carried easily on the breeze as they chatted with a group of Savanaclaw students who seemed far too pleased with themselves.

Riddle’s gaze immediately went to Prim. She was sitting on the edge of the group, her blonde curls bouncing slightly as she nodded enthusiastically in response to the conversation. Despite her obvious effort to engage, none of the boys so much as glanced her way. Their attention was fixed on her three companions, who were leaning forward and giggling at every joke.

Eventually, the three girls stood, brushing themselves off and flashing bright smiles at the Savanaclaw students. “We’ll see you later,” one of them said, linking arms with another.

Prim started to stand, too, but one of the girls waved her back down with a quick, “Oh, just stay here, Prim. Keep the spot for us, okay?”

Prim blinked, then nodded quickly. “Sure! No problem!”

The group walked away, leaving her alone under the tree. She didn’t seem bothered, though. She pulled out a small lunch box and began unpacking it, her expression as cheerful as ever.

Riddle hesitated, his steps slowing. It wasn’t his business, and he wasn’t the type to meddle. Yet something about the scene nagged at him.

Prim’s so-called friends hadn’t even offered to include her. They left her behind without a second thought. And though she waved them off as if it were perfectly natural, Riddle couldn’t shake the feeling that it wasn’t right.

Before he could stop himself, he changed course and approached her.

Prim looked up as his shadow fell over her. “Oh! Hi, Riddle!” she said brightly, her dark blue eyes lighting up.

“Good afternoon,” he said, stopping a few feet away. He glanced at her lunch box and then at the empty space around her. “You’re alone.”

She smiled and nodded. “Yeah, the girls went off with those boys. They didn’t want to intrude, and, well, it would’ve been rude for me to tag along since I wasn’t invited.”

Riddle frowned, his grip tightening on the book in his hands. “They left you here.”

Prim waved her hand dismissively. “Oh, it’s fine. I already had lunch anyway, and they asked me to keep this spot for them. It’s a nice spot, don’t you think? Nice shade, good view...”

Her voice trailed off as she gestured to the courtyard around them, clearly trying to paint the situation in the best possible light.

Riddle remained silent, his expression unreadable. He wanted to tell her that her friends shouldn’t have asked her to stay behind just to save a spot. That if they truly cared about her, they wouldn’t leave her sitting alone while they went off with boys who didn’t even acknowledge her.

But Prim’s smile didn’t falter. She continued to eat her lunch, completely at ease.

Riddle’s mind whirred. He had never been particularly skilled at making friends himself, and he often struggled with understanding social dynamics. Yet he couldn’t stand to see someone as kind and cheerful as Prim being so blatantly overlooked.

“Prim,” he said abruptly, his tone firmer than he intended.

She looked up, blinking at him. “Yes?”

“Would you... like to join me for lunch?”

Prim’s eyes widened in surprise, and for a moment, she seemed at a loss for words. “Oh, um, really?” she asked, her voice slightly higher than usual.

“Yes,” Riddle said, a little awkwardly. “If you’ve already eaten, I could still use some company. That is, if you’re not busy keeping this spot occupied.”

Prim laughed softly, her smile brightening even further. “Well, I suppose the spot will still be here when I get back.”

Riddle stepped back, allowing her to stand. As they walked toward the cafeteria together, he couldn’t help but feel a strange sense of satisfaction. It wasn’t much, but at least she wouldn’t have to sit alone this time.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Prim’s POV

The shade under the oak tree was nice, shielding them from the midday sun as the breeze rustled through the leaves. Prim sat with her three friends—Hazel, Trinity, and Opal—all of whom were laughing and chatting animatedly, their voices blending together in an upbeat melody of giggles.

Prim listened quietly, her hands folded neatly over her lap, her lips twitching upward in a small smile. Hazel said something that made Trinity snort, and Opal burst into another fit of laughter. Prim tried to join in, even though she didn’t entirely understand the joke.

They’re just so confident, she thought, watching them. “It’s one of the things I admire about them.”

Sometimes they’d say things to her that she wasn’t sure how to take. Like when Hazel turned to her mid-laughter and said, “Prim, I wish I could be as pure as you. So innocent!”

Prim chuckled along, though her cheeks flushed. They mean well, she reassured herself. It’s not like they’re being mean. I guess I don’t get all their jokes, so they’re right. It’s fine.

Then there was Trinity, who had tilted her head at Prim’s pigtails earlier and remarked, “Your hair is so unique, Prim. I’d never have the patience to deal with all those curls!”

Prim had thanked her for the comment, though part of her wondered if “unique” had been the right word. It was true, though—her hair never behaved like Hazel’s silky locks, Trinity’s sleek waves, or Opal’s perfectly tousled bob. But it was fine.

It was fine.

When a group of boys approached, Prim felt herself tense up slightly. She wasn’t used to being approached by boys—especially not bold, self-assured ones like these.

Hazel, Trinity, and Opal perked up immediately, their voices gaining a lilting edge as they welcomed the boys with coy smiles and casual jokes. Prim sat up straighter, her cheeks flushing pink as she tried to follow along with the conversation.

One of the boys told a story about his latest Spelldrive match, and Prim laughed softly at the right moment, hoping it sounded natural. But the boy didn’t look her way. None of them did. Their eyes were fixed on her friends.

She felt a small pang in her chest.

It’s okay, she told herself quickly. She isn’t his type. And that’s okay.

Her friends were tall, poised, and effortlessly pretty. Their hair shimmered in the sunlight, their makeup was flawless, and their laughter was infectious. Prim, meanwhile, was shorter, with unruly curls that seemed to have a mind of their own. Her braces made her mouth always stand open a bit, and as long as she can remember she talked with a lisp.

They’re just more... grown-up than me, she reasoned. And that’s okay. I’ll get there eventually.

For a fleeting moment, the pang threatened to grow into something heavier. But she shook it off, summoning her usual cheerful resolve.

I totally get it, she told herself, nodding slightly as if to reinforce the thought. I understand why they’d get all the attention. Besides, I don’t even need a boyfriend right now! I have my friends. And I’m happy for them. Really, I am.

When the boys eventually asked Hazel, Trinity, and Opal to join them for lunch, Prim was already smiling again.

“Oh, just stay here, Prim. Keep the spot for us, okay?” Hazel said over her shoulder as they stood.

“Sure! No problem!” Prim said brightly, waving at them as they walked off.

She settled back under the tree and reached for her lunch box. It’s fine, she thought as she unwrapped her sandwich. I packed a good lunch, and this spot is really nice. I’m totally fine. And they’ll be back soon anyway.

As she took a bite, she looked up and froze mid-chew.

Riddle stood a few feet away, his red hair unmistakable in the dappled sunlight. He was looking directly at her, his expression as composed and stern as always.

“Oh!” Prim swallowed quickly, straightening up and brushing crumbs off her lap. “Hi, Riddle!”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Riddle’s POV

Riddle wasn’t entirely sure why he’d asked her to join him for lunch. It wasn’t as though he usually sought out company during meals. Quite the opposite, in fact—he valued the quiet solitude that came with sitting alone, free from the noise and chaos of others.

And yet, here he was, walking toward the cafeteria with Prim by his side, her cheerful chatter filling the silence he usually preferred.

“I really didn’t expect you to invite me to lunch,” Prim said, her voice bright with surprise. “But thank you! It’s nice to have someone to eat with. It’s always fun!”

Riddle glanced at her, taking in her wide smile and the way her dark blue eyes seemed to light up with genuine delight. Her optimism was almost childlike in its sincerity, and though it was different from the carefully composed demeanor he usually gravitated toward, he found it oddly... refreshing.

As they settled at a table, Prim eagerly unpacked her lunch box again, chatting as she went. “So, do you always eat alone? Or do you sit with your dorm mates sometimes?”

“I usually eat alone,” Riddle replied, his tone matter-of-fact. “It’s more efficient. The dining hall can be... chaotic.”

Prim tilted her head, nodding thoughtfully. “I get that. It can get loud sometimes. But it’s nice to have people to talk to, don’t you think?”

Riddle hesitated. Socializing had always felt more like a chore than a pleasure for him. Yet, as he watched Prim, he couldn’t bring himself to agree. “Perhaps,” he said finally.

They fell into a rhythm of small talk, much to Riddle’s surprise. Prim carried most of the conversation, her cheerful nature making it easy to follow along. She told him about her favorite classes, how she was still adjusting to Lady Mystic College, and how much she loved the library at Night Raven College.

“And the oak tree in the courtyard!” she added with a bright smile. “It’s such a nice spot to sit. Perfect shade, good view... It’s the best, really.”

Riddle nodded politely, though his thoughts lingered on why she’d been left there in the first place.

Finally, he couldn’t stop himself from bringing it up. “You said earlier that your friends went off with those guys and left you behind. Does that happen often?”

Prim blinked, caught off guard. “Oh, well... not often,” she said, though her tone wavered slightly. “They were just being polite, you know? It wouldn’t have been right for me to tag along if I wasn’t invited.”

Riddle frowned. “But if they’re your friends, shouldn’t they have invited you in the first place?”

Prim hesitated, her cheerful facade faltering for the briefest moment. “I mean, they’re just... busy. And I don’t really mind! I’m happy to keep the spot for them.”

He leaned forward slightly, his gaze steady. “Do you really think that’s fair to you?”

She shifted uncomfortably, her hands fidgeting with the edge of her lunch box. “Well, it’s not like they’re being mean or anything,” she said quietly. “They’re nice to me. And they’re so cool and pretty, you know? I’m lucky to have friends like them.”

Riddle’s frown deepened. “Are they really your friends if they constantly leave you out? If they treat you like an afterthought?”

Prim’s shoulders slumped slightly, and for the first time, her ever-present smile wavered. “They have to be my friends… if they’re not…” she said softly, “then... it would mean I didn’t have any at all…”

Riddle’s chest tightened at her words. He’d never been particularly adept at comforting others, but the sadness in her voice stirred something in him. He’d always been strict, proper, and precise in his interactions, yet in this moment, he felt compelled to say something more.

“You do have a friend,” he said quietly, surprising even himself.

Prim’s head snapped up, her eyes wide. “Mm?”

Riddle shifted uncomfortably in his seat, his face heating slightly. “I mean... I wouldn’t invite just anyone to lunch. So if that makes you feel better... consider me your friend.”

For a moment, Prim simply stared at him. Then her face broke into the brightest smile he’d ever seen, her braces gleaming as her eyes filled with joy. “Really? You mean it?”

He cleared his throat, looking away to hide his own embarrassment. “Yes. Of course.”

“Yeah!” Prim said eagerly, her sadness forgotten as she practically beamed at him. “Yeah, I guess we are friends, huh?”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The park on Sage Island was quiet that afternoon, the soft rustle of leaves and distant chatter providing a soothing backdrop to Riddle’s thoughts. He didn’t come to the park often—it seemed frivolous to idle in nature when there were more productive things to do—but something had drawn him there today.

It was then that he saw her.

Prim was balancing on a low railing near the path, her arms stretched out for balance and her curls bouncing with each careful step. She looked utterly carefree, the sunlight catching the faint glint of her braces as she smiled to herself.

Riddle slowed his pace, his gaze lingering on her. The sight struck a chord in him—her innocence, her lightheartedness. She embodied a freedom he had never known.

Growing up under his mother’s strict rules, even the thought of such behavior would have been unthinkable. Walking on a railing? Playing games in public? There was no place for that in the rigid schedule of the Rosehearts household. And even now, as a college student, Riddle often felt the weight of responsibility pressing on his shoulders, keeping him bound to the rules he upheld so fiercely.

Prim, however, seemed untouched by such constraints.

When she spotted him, her face lit up, and she hopped down from the railing with a bounce. “Riddle!” she called, hurrying toward him. “Hi! What a surprise to see you here!”

“Good afternoon, Prim,” he said, straightening his posture.

“It’s so nice to see you,” she said, her grin bright as ever. “Are you here for a walk too?”

“I thought some fresh air might be beneficial,” Riddle replied. “And you?”

“Oh, I’m on my way to the bookstore,” she said, clasping her hands behind her back. “I need a new diary. My old one’s almost full.”

“A diary,” he echoed.

“Yep!” she said cheerfully. “I write about everything—what I did, how I felt, what made me happy. It’s nice to look back on later, you know?”

Riddle nodded, though he couldn’t fully relate. His own life had always been so structured, so focused on rules and expectations, that the idea of reflecting on daily joys felt almost... indulgent.

As they walked together, Prim continued to chat, her energy as boundless as ever. “I’ve been hanging out less with Hazel, Trinity, and Opal,” she said after a while, her tone casual. “It’s easier now that I have a friend.”

Her words caught him off guard, and he turned to look at her. “You mean me.”

“Of course!” she said brightly, glancing at him with a sincerity that made his chest tighten.

He felt his cheeks heat slightly and quickly looked away. “I... see.”

Prim tilted her head, her expression softening. “Thank you for having lunch with me last week, by the way. It was really nice. I hope I wasn’t talking too much.”

Riddle shook his head. “You were fine. I didn’t mind.”

Her face lit up again, and she clasped her hands together. “I’m glad! I’ve been eating alone more often lately, and I think I finally get what you mean—it’s nice to have that quiet sometimes. It’s efficient, and I can actually focus on my food!”

Hearing her repeat his words from before made something stir in his chest. She wasn’t just cheerful; she genuinely listened.

They walked in companionable silence for a few moments before Prim spoke again. “You should come with me to the bookstore,” she said suddenly, her voice bright.

Riddle blinked, caught off guard. “Me?”

“Why not? It could be fun! And I’m sure they’ve got plenty of interesting books for you to look at.”

He hesitated, searching for a reason to decline, but none came. “I suppose I could use a new reference book,” he said finally, convincing himself it was a practical decision. “Very well.”

Prim clapped her hands together. “Great! Let’s go!”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The bookstore was small but inviting, its shelves packed with an eclectic mix of novels, journals, and academic texts. Prim headed straight for the section of journals, her excitement palpable.

“What do you think of this one?” she asked, holding up a diary with a floral cover. “Or this one?” She picked up another, this one decorated with stars.

“They’re both... adequate,” Riddle said diplomatically, though his tone lacked the sternness it usually carried.

Prim giggled. “You’re so formal, Riddle. You’re so cool.”

He stiffened, the unexpected comment catching him off guard. “I—cool is hardly the appropriate word.”

She laughed again, completely unbothered by his awkwardness. “I like it,” she said simply, flipping through the pages of a diary.

Riddle turned his attention to the nearest shelf, scanning the titles even as his thoughts lingered on her. She was so unabashedly sincere, so quick to express herself without reservation. It was entirely unlike him, and yet he found it oddly refreshing.

“What kind of books do you like?” Prim asked suddenly, breaking his train of thought.

“Primarily academic texts,” Riddle replied. “I don’t often read for leisure.”

“That makes sense,” she said with a nod. “You’re so disciplined, Riddle. I admire that about you.”

He glanced at her, momentarily speechless. She said it so matter-of-factly, as if her praise was simply the truth. “Thank you,” he said quietly, unsure of how else to respond.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The walk back from the bookstore was peaceful, with Prim happily clutching her new diary to her chest. She was chatting about the various things she planned to write in it—her favorite moments, her thoughts on the day, and even the little goals she set for herself. Riddle listened quietly, his hands neatly folded behind his back, offering the occasional nod or small response.

As they reached a crossroads in the park, Prim slowed her pace, her expression shifting slightly. “I should probably start studying when I get back,” she said with a small sigh. “I’ve got this one chapter that’s been giving me so much trouble.”

Riddle raised an eyebrow. “What subject?”

“Potions,” Prim replied, scrunching her nose. “There’s this one section about ingredient interactions that I just can’t wrap my head around. It’s like the words blur together every time I try to read it.”

He stopped walking, considering her words. He remembered studying potions theory himself the year prior. It wasn’t an easy subject, especially when it came to understanding the subtleties of ingredient dynamics. But he’d mastered it, of course.

Prim tilted her head, glancing at him curiously. “What is it?”

Riddle felt a flicker of hesitation. The idea of offering his help seemed straightforward enough, but his mind began to overanalyze. Would it be strange to suggest it? They were friends now, weren’t they? And helping a friend was a reasonable thing to do.

But what if she felt pressured to accept? Prim had always been eager to please, and the last thing he wanted was for her to feel obligated. Still, she had said she was glad they were friends. Surely she wouldn’t find the gesture unwelcome?

“Riddle?” Prim’s voice was soft, her gaze searching his.

He straightened, pushing his doubts aside with a deep breath. “If you’re struggling with that chapter,” he began carefully, “I could help you study.”

He watched her expression closely, his heart beating just a little faster as he waited for her response.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Prim’s POV

Prim clutched her study books tightly to her chest as she walked toward Night Raven College. The path to the all-boys school was winding, but she didn’t mind. The weather was nice, the air crisp, and her heart felt unusually light.

She couldn’t stop thinking about the day before, when Riddle had offered to help her with her potions studies. It had been so unexpected, and the moment he’d asked, she’d said yes without hesitation.

Of course, she was grateful for his help. Riddle was brilliant—he knew so much, and she was certain he’d explain things far better than her textbook ever could. But more than that, the thought of spending time with him made her genuinely happy.

She smiled to herself, her steps quickening as she remembered the feeling. She’d made an actual friend.

In high school, she’d been alone more often than not. She tried to fit in, but it was like she didn’t quite know how. Her curls were too unruly, her braces too shiny, and her lisp made her stumble over words when she was nervous. She remembered watching other girls gather in groups, laughing and chatting easily, while she lingered on the edges, hoping to be noticed.

When she’d started college, she promised herself things would be different. She’d make friends this time, no matter what. And she had—Hazel, Trinity, and Opal had been quick to include her. But it hadn’t taken long to realize that their kindness only went so far.

Prim sighed softly, her grip tightening on her books. Her so-called friends weren’t really nice to her, not in the way that mattered. She knew that. But wasn’t it better to have bad friends than none at all?

At least, that’s what she used to believe.

But then there was Riddle. He was so different from anyone she’d met before—kind in his own quiet, composed way. He didn’t laugh at her or make her feel small. When he talked to her, it felt like he actually saw her, not just the odd girl with the curls and the braces.

Riddle is a real friend, she thought, her heart fluttering.

She almost started skipping as she neared the gates of Night Raven College, her excitement outweighing her nerves. The idea of walking into an all-boys school was a little intimidating, but she didn’t let it bother her. Riddle had offered to help, and she was determined to make the most of it.

When the imposing gates of the school came into view, Prim spotted a familiar figure waiting for her.

Riddle stood with his hands clasped neatly in front of him, his posture as straight and proper as ever. He spotted her immediately and stepped forward.

“Good afternoon, Prim,” he said, his tone formal but not unfriendly.

“Hi, Riddle!” she greeted, her voice bright as she hurried up to him. “Thanks for meeting me.”

“It’s no trouble,” he replied, gesturing toward the campus. “I thought it would be best to guide you directly to my dorm. Night Raven College can be... confusing to navigate if you’re unfamiliar.”

She nodded eagerly, her nerves momentarily forgotten. “I really appreciate it. I’ll try not to get in the way too much!”

Riddle gave a small shake of his head. “You’re not in the way. I offered, didn’t I?”

Her smile widened at his words, and as they began walking, she glanced around, taking in the grand architecture of the school.

“It’s such a big campus,” she said, her awe evident. “It must be amazing to go here.”

“It has its merits,” Riddle said simply, though there was a faint note of pride in his voice.

Prim followed him through the gates and into the courtyard, her excitement bubbling up again. She had no idea what to expect, but one thing was certain—Riddle was her friend now. She can’t wait for tonight, when she can write in her diary about today.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Riddle’s POV

As Riddle led Prim through the gates of Heartslabyul, he noticed the usual shift in demeanor among his dormmates. Students standing idly by quickly straightened their postures, their conversations quieting as they noticed him. It was routine, of course—expected behavior from those under his jurisdiction—but it wasn’t something he’d ever given much thought to.

Prim, however, seemed to notice. She glanced around curiously as they passed a group of first-years who hurriedly bowed their heads in greeting.

“Good afternoon, Housewarden!” one of them called.

Prim blinked, slowing her steps slightly. “Housewarden?” she repeated, looking at Riddle.

He cleared his throat, feeling a faint warmth creep up his neck. “Yes,” he said stiffly. “I am the housewarden of Heartslabyul.”

Her eyes widened as the pieces seemed to fall into place. “Ohhh, that makes so much sense now!” she said, her voice light with realization. “No wonder everyone is so respectful around you. You’re in charge!”

Riddle frowned slightly, his usual composure slipping just a little. “It’s merely my duty,” he said, trying to downplay the significance.

Prim, however, seemed delighted. “That’s amazing, Riddle! You must be really good at what you do for them to listen to you like that.”

Her praise caught him off guard, and he quickly turned his attention back to the path, his face warming further. “It’s nothing remarkable. Let’s continue to my room.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When they reached his room, Riddle opened the door and stepped aside to let Prim in. She hesitated for a moment before walking in, clutching her books tightly.

“I’ve never been in a boy’s room before,” she said with a small giggle, glancing around.

Riddle stiffened, his hand tightening slightly on the doorknob. “It’s just a room,” he said quickly, closing the door behind them.

Prim wandered further inside, her eyes wide as she took in the neat, organized space. The room was larger than she had expected, with a tidy desk, bookshelves filled to the brim, and a large canopy bed. Everything was perfectly arranged, a reflection of Riddle’s meticulous nature.

“This is so nice!” she said, smiling as she turned to him. “It’s so... Riddle.”

He blinked. “What do you mean by that?”

“It’s so neat and organized,” she said, laughing lightly. “It just feels like you. I love it.”

Her laughter was high but not too loud often accompanied by a snort. It was infectious and Riddle found himself relaxing slightly.

Prim grinned, plopping herself onto the edge of the chair near his desk and opening her books. “Okay, ready to study?”

He nodded, pulling out a chair for himself and settling in beside her. “Let’s begin. You mentioned you were struggling with ingredient interactions?”

As they worked through the chapter, Riddle was surprised by how focused Prim was. Though she had trouble grasping some of the concepts at first, she listened intently to his explanations, asking thoughtful questions and jotting down notes.

Her enthusiasm was refreshing, and Riddle found himself genuinely enjoying the session.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A knock at the door interrupted them just as Prim was beginning to understand a particularly tricky concept.

“Come in,” Riddle called, glancing up.

The door opened to reveal Trey, carrying a tray of freshly baked cookies. He smiled when he saw them. “I thought you two might want a snack,” he said, placing the tray on the desk.

Prim’s eyes lit up. “Oh, wow! These look amazing!”

“They’re still warm,” Trey said with a chuckle. “Help yourselves.”

Prim picked up a cookie and took a bite, her eyes widening in delight. “These are so good!” she said, her voice muffled slightly by the cookie.

Riddle picked one up as well, though he was far more reserved in his reaction. “Thank you, Trey,” he said politely.

Trey turned to Prim, bowing his head slightly wearing a kind smile. “Nice to meet you, I’m Trey, the vice housewarden of Heartslabyul.”

Prim sat up straight and returned his smile with one of her own. “Nice to meet you too! I’m Prim!”

Trey smiled knowingly, glancing between the two of them. “Well… Let me know if you need anything else,” he said before heading out.

As the door closed, Prim turned to Riddle, her smile as bright as ever. “Your dormmates are so nice. And these cookies? Best study snack ever.”

Riddle nodded, feeling a faint sense of pride in Heartslabyul’s hospitality. “Trey is an excellent baker,” he said.

Prim grinned, holding up her notebook. “And you’re an excellent teacher. I’m actually starting to get this now!”

Riddle looked at her, his expression softening. “You’re a quick learner,” he said. “You just needed someone to explain it in a way that made sense to you.”

Her smile widened, and she leaned forward slightly. “Thanks, Riddle. Really. You’re the best.”

His face warmed again, and he quickly turned back to the open book in front of him. “Let’s continue,” he said, his voice a little tighter than usual.

Prim giggled, taking another bite of her cookie before diving back into her notes.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Riddle shifted in his chair, trying to focus on the textbook in front of him, but his thoughts kept wandering. It wasn’t the material that distracted him—he’d long since mastered the subject—but rather Prim, who was sitting just a little too close.

She was leaning forward slightly, her notebook open as she jotted down notes, the end of her pencil tapping lightly against her lip in thought. Her blonde curls framed her face in soft spirals, bouncing faintly with every movement. Her braces gleamed when she smiled, the colorful elastics drawing his attention in a way he didn’t expect.

When she spoke, her slight lisp added an unexpected charm to her words, her voice full of enthusiasm even as she struggled with the material.

Riddle frowned slightly, feeling a warmth creep up his neck. He wasn’t used to this—having someone so close, so lively, so...

He surprised himself when the thought crossed his mind: She’s kind of cute.

The realization made his stomach twist, and he quickly looked back at his book, his posture stiffening. Focus, Riddle, he scolded himself silently. You’re here to help her study, nothing more.

Still, it was difficult to ignore her presence, especially when she turned to him with that bright smile, her gratitude shining in her eyes.

When their study session ended, Prim packed up her books, her smile never fading. “Thank you so much, Riddle,” she said for what felt like the tenth time. “You’re seriously the best. I actually feel like I understand this now!”

“It was no trouble,” he replied, his voice clipped as he tried to maintain his composure.

Riddle walked her back to the gates, insisting on showing her the way in case she would get lost. Walking back they made a bit of small talk and Riddle could feel the stares. But he tried to ignore them, he was just walking his friend out.

Prim slung her bag over her shoulder, pausing when they arrived at the gates. “I’ll see you soon, okay? Thanks again!”

She waved cheerfully before walking back to her own dorm, leaving Riddle alone.

He let out a small breath, his shoulders relaxing. The session had gone well, but he couldn’t shake the strange fluttering sensation in his chest.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Later, in the Heartslabyul lounge, Riddle sat with a book in hand, though his thoughts kept drifting back to Prim’s visit.

“Hey, Riddle!”

He looked up to see Trey and Cater approaching, both wearing knowing smiles.

“How did the study session go?” Trey asked casually, though there was a glint of curiosity in his eyes.

“Was she nice? Fun? Cute?” Cater added, leaning in with a teasing grin.

Riddle frowned, not catching the implication. “It went well. She understood the material by the end, and she was very polite.”

Cater’s grin widened. “Oh, ‘polite,’ huh? That’s it?”

“She seemed... eager to learn,” Riddle continued, ignoring Cater’s tone.

Trey chuckled softly. “And you were okay with her being in your space? You usually don’t let just anyone into your room.”

Riddle hesitated, adjusting his tie. “She’s a friend,” he said finally. “It’s natural to help a friend, isn’t it?” Calling her a friend almost made him feel proud.

Cater exchanged a look with Trey, his grin turning sly. “Right. A ‘friend.’”

Before Riddle could respond, the lounge door burst open, and Ace and Deuce strolled in.

“Hey, Housewarden!” Ace called, plopping down on one of the couches. “We heard you had a guest today.”

Deuce looked confused. “Guest?”

“Yeah,” Ace said, smirking. “A girl.”

Riddle’s grip on his book tightened. “What of it?”

“C’mon, spill! Is she your girlfriend or something?” Ace asked, leaning forward with an exaggerated grin.

Riddle’s face turned red, and he slammed his book shut. “O-of course not!” he snapped, his voice sharp.

Ace burst out laughing, clearly enjoying himself. “Whoa, calm down! I was just asking.”

“She’s a friend, nothing more,” Riddle said firmly, glaring at Ace.

Deuce, sensing the tension, elbowed Ace. “Knock it off, Ace. You’re being rude.”

“What? I’m just curious!” Ace said, still grinning.

Riddle stood abruptly, his expression stern. “If you’re finished with your childish remarks, I have work to do.”

He strode out of the lounge, his cape billowing behind him, leaving the others behind.

Trey shook his head, though he was smiling faintly. “You pushed too hard, Ace.”

“Aw, come on,” Ace said, leaning back with a laugh. “You can’t blame me for asking. Did you see how flustered he got?”

Cater grinned. “I don’t know, Ace. Maybe he’s just new to this whole ‘having friends’ thing.”

“Or maybe,” Trey said with a small chuckle, “he’s starting to realize that having a friend like Prim might be a little more important to him than he thought.”

None of them noticed the faint blush creeping up Riddle’s ears as he listened just outside the door, his grip tightening on his book.

#twst oc #twisted wonderland #riddle rosehearts #prim

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ittybxttykxttytxtty · 21 hours ago

Text

Oh boyo...

A large blonde with long hair clapped his hands together. “Finally! The future Queen of The 107th! And a beautiful one at that. It’s a pleasure.” Your eyes widened as he stood, his stature as booming as his voice before he bowed. He actually bowed to you. “Are the rest of you not standing? Fowler, Wilson, on your feet with Rogers. This is not just a woman, this is Barnes’s woman. Show her some respect.”

He's too much, istg 😭 it's like overdosing in respect women juice but it's not actually respect women juice, its just steroids. Bro, calm down.

“Told you it was too soon to bring her here,” the dark-eyed gentleman beside Thor spoke, a mildly sympathetic look on his face. “But, no, you never listen to me.”

Samuel, there's a reason why YOU'RE my Captain America. Steve lost all of his common sense, yours is still intact. That's good. 😭

He seemed nice, but how nice could he be if he was Bucky’s friend?

Stop reminding me, everything is fine. 😭

“It really is nice to see the future wife in person.” Nick gave you a quick once over, but there was no judgment, unlike that jerk at the bar. “I can see exactly why he broke into your place just to talk to you.”

ACA-SCUSE ME. SIR???

“I’m not bothering her. Maybe you're the one bothering her.”

That death wish is like one second away from coming true. Bro, chill 😭

“I think so, too.” Steve smiled and you did your best to return it, but it fell flat as you remembered the flowers at Bucky's penthouse. “Thank you for making my best friend happy. That’s all I want for him.”

....I think the fuck not. Sir, you are no. 1 on the DO NOT TRUST list.

“I've actually done a little bit more than that,” he said, your heart dropping as he looked at Bucky. What did he mean? “Did you get a chance to introduce her?”

BEEP BEEP BEEP. OMG. THEY MATCH EACHOTHER'S FREAKS. BY THEY, I MEAN BUCKY AND STEVE.

AND THEIR READERS MATCH EACH OTHER'S TRAUMA.

“That should've been your first clue that she was special. Everyone else down there has to abide by a dress code, but not her. That’s how much power she has. And you tried to make her feel bad for that?” Bucky held a hand up when Ari stepped forward again. “No. I won't let that stand.”

I am not gonna lie. I am currently freaking out and throwing up, this is too intense. 😃

You rolled your lips between your teeth. Defending you that way was a lot, but a morbid part of you liked that he stood up for you. “Thank you, but no more hitting people in my name. I can't stand it if someone else was hurt because of me.”

I saw that 👀 That's going to the list of things that will make sense in a couple more chapters.

Steve looked at the monitor that displayed the coat room. “We take care of our own.”

Okay, listen. Chris Evans can play a horrifying psychopath. We all know that, we all watched Knives Out and The Gray Man. But STEVE ROGERS as a psychopath is arguably scarier. Like this is STEVE, the gentleman, the empath. There's a certain moral expectation when it comes to him. So seeing him like this but still with a smile on his face acting like he's not terrifying but approachable is definitely my nightmare.

You’d find out soon enough.

Babygirl, you'll be finding out the hard way. 😭

This chapter is by far the most intense for me. It's so well written, it's so well paced. Navy, you've really outdone yourself with this one. 💖

Fuck John. We don't know a John.

Hold You Tight: Part 8

Pairing: Club Owner!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Fic Summary: The owner of The 107th wants you to be his girl whether you like it or not.

Part 7 | Series Masterlist | Part 9

Chapter Summary: You talk with some of Bucky's friends and witness what happens to someone who disrespects you.

Chapter Word Count: Over 5.2k

Chapter Warnings: DARK AU, tension, mention of stalking, inner conflict, insecurities, manipulation, possessiveness, violence (not against reader), Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?), more warnings to come.

A/N: More Hold You Tight and thank you for your patience! Hope you lovelies continue to enjoy. Bucky edit by the beautiful @nixakimbo . ❤️ Beta read by the lovely @whisperlullaby , but any and all mistakes are my own. Divider by the talented @firefly-graphics . Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

You didn’t respond to the comment and did your best to ignore the stares from the others. Intrigue filled their eyes and you suddenly felt as if they placed you under a microscope. Being the center of Bucky’s attention was smothering, but the weight of their gazes settled so hard in your chest that you worried you wouldn’t breathe properly again.

You looked around in the hopes it would distract you. A nice office, just as you expected. A high ceiling like his penthouse, but with carpet instead of a marble floor. The dark, expensive desk and furniture added to the vibe, powerful and ominous. A bookshelf along one wall lined with books reminded you that Bucky really liked to read. You also wondered who painted the lone piece of art that hung above his desk. A black dahlia, symbolic of sadness or betrayal.

Why that flower?

The wall to your left pushed that thought away. Monitors took up the top half and displayed various parts of the club. You weren’t sure why it took you by surprise, especially since he mentioned seeing you in the VIP section. The man was a control freak. At the same time, the club belonged to him and he certainly wouldn’t be the first business owner to have eyes and ears everywhere around his place.

“Quick introduction before we get into specifics,” Bucky said, nodding around the room. “Thor Odinson, Nick Fowler, Sam Wilson, and Steve Rogers.”

“I swear, you aren’t from this world,” a brunette in a sharp black suit mumbled, but got to his feet along with the others. The unexpected gesture stunned you into silence. “We were starting to wonder if you stood us up.”

“Took a bit of convincing to get her here, Nick,” Bucky explained, making you bite your tongue when he kissed your temple. “She wanted a quiet night.”

The handsome man had a menacing glint in his brilliant blue eyes. “And how exactly did you convince her?”

“You know, you can all sit back down,” you cut in. “There’s no reason to stand just because I’m here,” you added, though you appreciated Thor’s genuine enthusiasm. It was kind of endearing.

“Nonsense. You’re all he speaks of, so you are a Queen in our eyes,” Thor said.

“Future Queen does have a nice ring to it. Maybe I can buy you a tiara,” Bucky smiled. The men chuckled in unison, with the exception of Ray.

Hyenas.

Whatever expression you had on your face made Bucky frown. “Are you okay?”

You wanted to scream how you weren’t okay at all and how terrifying the entire situation was, but Bucky took your hand before you could answer and kissed your fingers. It somehow soothed a bit of the nerves, which wasn’t fair since he was the one who tangled you in this web in the first place. “Just not used to so much attention,” you admitted.

“Let’s sit,” Bucky suggested, leading you to the remaining empty sofa. Instead of giving you space, he kept you at his side once you both sat. Was it a display of ownership in front of everyone or did he just want you right beside him? “Ray, bring her some water.”

Your heart thumped against your ribcage and the gentleness of Bucky’s hand on your cheek startled you. It was different on the club floor. Even with his men teasing you, there were tons of others around. Here in the office, the spotlight was solely on you. All because Bucky wanted you. Otherwise, you’d be invisible.

“I’ll have you home soon,” Bucky whispered, grounding you with the reminder that you didn't have to stay all night. “Just a little bit longer.”

“Told you it was too soon to bring her here,” the dark-eyed gentleman beside Thor spoke, a mildly sympathetic look on his face. “But, no, you never listen to me.”

“And I told you where to shove your opinion, Sam,” Bucky snapped, thanking Ray in a softer tone when he placed a bottle in your hand. At least you knew it wasn’t drugged or tampered with since you had to open it yourself.

“So, Barnes tells us you work with flowers?” Thor questioned.

You nodded, not sure if it should bother you that he spoke about your job or impressed that his friends took the time to remember. “Yeah, I’m a florist. I enjoy it.”

“That is a lovely profession. He also mentioned you occasionally bring flowers to the local hospital at no charge,” Thor continued before the others gave him a look you couldn't decipher. “We do not see a lot of kindness like that around here.”

“Yeah, I sometimes…” you trailed off when you noticed Bucky’s jaw clench. It wasn’t something the two of you talked about during your date, but he clearly knew. You’d have to revisit this conversation later. “Bucky, why don't you tell me about your friends?” You suggested. Anything to take the focus off you.

Bucky blinked and gave you a smile after a moment. “Sure. Years ago, Steve decided to drag me to a veteran support meeting after we served, which is how I met Thor and Sam. They invest in real estate,” he explained. “Sam focuses more on the commercial end and Thor on homes.”

The military background didn't surprise you. Brotherhood. Loyalty. Respect. There was an unmistakable bond there.

“Wilson and I were just discussing our newest acquisitions before you walked in,” Thor said, tilting his glass toward you. “Barnes didn't tell us you lived in such a nice area.”

Your stomach tightened with nerves. “Excuse me?”

Sam looked like he was considering his words when Thor’s gaze flickered to him. “Bucky may have mentioned a property or two in that neighborhood that might be a good investment. He’s right.”

Your gaze jerked to the man holding you. His lips curled, knowing and unashamed. His promise to have you out of your home… “Is my apartment building one of those properties?”

Bucky shrugged. “It might be.”

Your heart gave a hard thud. If he was serious… If his friend bought the building… No, he couldn’t do that to you.

“Nick deals with investments, too, but he focuses more on businesses over real estate. We actually introduced him to Bucky,” Sam said, effortlessly shifting the conservation back to the group. He seemed nice, but how nice could he be if he was Bucky’s friend?

Bucky rubbed your back when you coughed. Nick was almost as nonchalant about the situation as Bucky was. “So, everyone really is aware that he’s a stalker,” you said.

“He prefers to think of himself as passionate or intense.”

“Pay no attention to him,” Bucky advised.

Nick simply smirked. “I was giving her a compliment.”

“Jax and Hal have already hit on her and I don't need you bothering her, too.”

“I’m not bothering her. Maybe you're the one bothering her.”

“Please, you don't have to talk about me like I'm not here,” you interrupted. Wanting to be invisible was one thing, but you wouldn't be treated as such.

You shut your mouth when everyone looked your way, but relaxed when all the men laughed again. “I like you,” Nick said. That brought a small smile to your face. It wasn't like you wanted the people in Bucky's life to like you, but it was nice to see that others weren’t phased by his power.

Bucky shot him a look for a split second before the latter put his hands up. “I don’t like her that way. We all know she's your girl,” he promised before looking at you again. “But I do like your spirit. It's good for him.”

Bucky shifted his gaze back to you adoringly as you shrank back into the sofa. “Thanks,” you whispered.

“And since you’re here, I wanted to ask what you think I should get Brady and Addison for their upcoming wedding,” Nick smirked again, but it was much softer this time. “I asked Bucky, but he thought I should ask you since you're so close to them.”

A chill ran over you. How did… “Nick,” you whispered, recalling your earlier conversation with Addison. “You’re Brady’s new boss, aren't you?”

“Smart girl.” he smiled, impressed. “I’m a boss of sorts. He’s a hard worker. Loves his fiancé. I hope they're enjoying their dinner.”

“Check their registry. Everything they want is there,” you said as evenly as you could manage, wishing you had the strength to bolt from the room.

You swallowed back the urge to get sick as Bucky rubbed your side. This wasn't just meeting his friends. This was a not-so-subtle way to tell you that you weren't getting away from him. And how could you? There was a chance that Sam bought your building. Nick had a way to get to people you cared about. And Steve showed up at your job, one of your only safe-havens. What was next?

It would've been easy to feel hollow to it all as Bucky wove himself into your life. Was it just control he sought? Or did he want to be in as much of life as possible so you couldn't forget him if you tried? No matter where you went, where you looked, who you saw, it would now trace back to him. Like he wanted everything to begin and end with him.

You looked toward Ray, but he looked at the floor. Sighing, you shook her head. You were all alone. “So, Bucky knows how to get into my home and pretty much knows everywhere I go. Sam or Thor might be buying the building I live in. Nick is working with someone close to me. And Steve… clearly knows where I work. Am I missing anything? Is this totally normal behavior for all of you?”

You could still see the intrigue in their eyes at your clipped tone. “You seem unhappy by that, but it is a dangerous world out there and you are a guarded treasure who needs to be looked after,” Thor spoke, looking to the others for support. “All of our women are.”

Nick nodded after a moment. “Varying degrees with our approaches, but yes. It’s dangerous out there.”

You huffed. Did they think they were the good guys? Were their significant others like you? Trapped? “It’s dangerous here, too.”

“You’re not in any danger with us.” Bucky turned your head toward him. “But Thor's right. You are my treasure, Kotyonok. I found you and I’m not letting you go.”

A possession. Something to covet. “You could’ve just left me buried in the sand or at the bottom of the ocean,” you whispered, ignoring the hurt in his eyes. “I didn’t ask for you to dig me up.”

“This is all overwhelming. I know it is,” Bucky whispered back, like the others weren’t listening. “If you’re upset that Steve went into your shop or for anything else, you can blame me.”

Of course that was the thing he commented on. “Oh, don’t worry. I do blame you.”

The men laughed again as he ran a finger along your neck. “Another thing I’ll make up to you.”

You huffed again. “And how will you do that? Jerk off while I’m on the phone with you? Because you already did that earlier.”

Bucky smirked at your sass when Sam coughed and said, “Steve, you’re being awfully quiet over there.” You almost forgot he was there since he hadn't said much else since you walked in.

“Who cares about Steve?” Nick grinned as he sipped his drink. “Let’s hear more about that phone call.”

“Just observing, Sam.” Steve cut in and crossed his arms as his gaze swept over the group. “And don’t be rude, Nick.”

“Is it rude if I also want to hear about the phone call?” Thor asked.

Heat flowed to your cheeks and you wished you just kept your mouth shut. “Please, forget I said that,” you begged. Because now that you mentioned it, it would play on a loop again in your mind.

Bucky said low enough for only you to hear, “Next time I get off, I want you right there with me.” The heat in your veins turned to molten lava. “But since you want to change the subject, Steve has been my best friend since we were kids and now he helps out around the club and with other endeavors,” he introduced, a hint of pride and fondness that wasn't fully extended to the other men. “I think you two are going to get along very well.”

“Thanks,” you said. That was all you wanted for your best friend, so you understood to an extent. “Did your girl enjoy the tulips or did you make that whole thing up?”

You weren't exactly sure what Bucky told him to do when he went into the shop, or what he told any of the men to do for that matter. Spying, keeping tabs, it was just a reminder of the eyes and ears your pseudo-boyfriend had around the city. Your brain begged you to get out of there, but you couldn't move.

“She really does love tulips and was very happy with them,” he assured you. “So I should thank you again for making her happy, too.”

You shouldn't dig the knife in after he complimented you, but you couldn't help yourself. “And are you like Bucky and stalking her, too?”

A hint of pink showed in the blonde’s cheeks when Bucky and Nick chuckled, but he gave you a lopsided grin and didn't seem at all offended. “I've actually done a little bit more than that,” he said, your heart dropping as he looked at Bucky. What did he mean? “Did you get a chance to introduce her?”

Bucky shook his head as Steve’s face fell. “Didn't stop at coat check,” he answered before he added, “His girl works here part-time, but I thought it would be better for you two to officially meet when we go on a double date.”

“A double date?” You asked.

“Yeah, the four of us. Steve and I already have a few ideas on where to go.” Another thing that wasn’t a suggestion. Wouldn’t be a choice. Did Steve’s poor girl have any idea?

“What does coat check girl’s boyfriend think about the double dates?” Nick said, typing out something on his phone.

Steve's smile slipped. “Soon-to-be ex and she has a name.”

“That's right, I forgot. You're going to ‘handle him’,” he said, your body tensing at the implication.

“I'm sorry. Didn't you break your future brother-in-law's arm?”

“I almost broke both arms,” he shrugged when you gawked at him. “My girl’s a best-selling author, but her brother is a piece of shit.”

Thor downed the rest of his drink. “That reminds me of the time I broke my father-in-law's fingers. My brother advised against it, but…”

The voices blended together as you took a sip of the water. You weren't a violent person, didn’t speak casually of violence the way they did, but the urge to hit or throw something became stronger with each passing second. All things considered, you were extremely patient with everything. How much more could you take?

“I want to go home, please,” you told Bucky. You had to get out of there. “I mean it. I met your friends and-”

The room went silent as someone knocked on the door. No one made a move, except for Ray and Steve who both reached for something in their jackets. “Expecting someone, boss?” Ray asked.

“Actually, I am.” Bucky checked his watch. “Should be Ari and a guest.”

“What guest? Not Ransom,” Steve said, his body still tense.

“And not Andy or Scott. They’re out of town,” Nick added.

Bucky’s wolfish smile was back on his face. “You’ll see.”

The doors opened and in walked the man who insulted you at the bar, looking around like he owned the place. Ari followed with a glare that had you shrinking into the sofa again. The night was just getting better and better, wasn't it?

“John?” Sam didn't look impressed. “Really?”

Bucky stood up to shake the man’s hand and you suddenly missed his warmth. “John. Enjoying your evening?”

“Yeah. That shirtless bartender gave me drinks on the house.”

“I’m glad Hal took care of you.” You could smell the liquor coming from him the further he stepped into the room. “And I think you know just about everyone here.”

While the men had smiled and welcomed you, none of them extended the same courtesy to John. Steve and Sam looked like they wanted to punch him. Nick didn't even glance up from his phone to acknowledge him. Thor simply got himself another drink.

“I do.” John hiccuped. “‘Bout time you invited me up here.”

“Yeah, I guess it is about time.” The look on Bucky’s face gave you chills as he grabbed John’s arm and stopped him from sitting down. “Oh, no. You don’t need to sit. You won't be here long.”

“Is that right?”

“That is right.” The grip on John’s arm tightened enough to make him wince. “You see, I told Hal to give you free drinks until Ari came to get you. And the only reason I had you brought up here was so you could officially meet my girl before I have you kicked out.”

“Kick me out?! What the fuck are…” John had a noticeable twinge in his cheek as he spotted you. You wanted to cover yourself up even though you weren’t exposed. “That's your girl?”

“She’s my everything.” Bucky briefly looked away from John to gaze at you. “And from what I understand, you knocked her out of the way at the bar and made a rude comment. I’d like to know exactly what you said to her.”

Nick glanced up from his phone, more interested in the conversation now. All of the men were. That wasn't good. Not at all.

“Look, I may have bumped into her, but I don’t…” John cleared his throat as Bucky stared at him, underlying rage in his eyes. “I don’t recall mouthing off to her or anything.”

“Bucky, it’s fine,” you said. You told him that earlier. What was he doing?

“Kotyonok, do you remember what he said to you since John’s memory is so terrible?” Bucky asked, his gaze still fixed on the man in front of him who was starting to sweat. “It’s okay. You can tell us.”

The others stared at you expectantly. You shifted, not wanting to blurt out exactly what the guy said. Lying wouldn’t make it any better though. Bucky clearly knew what happened.

“See? Nothing happened,” John tried to dismiss you when you stayed silent. “How about a drink?”

Bucky pursed his lips in disdain. “How about I have Ari beat the words out of you instead?”

You gasped when Ari pushed himself off the wall, fear all over John’s face as he advanced. He looked like he was going to piss himself. “He called me an ugly undressed bitch,” you said loud enough to make Ari stop.

Something in the room shifted, the silence extended and uncomfortable as the men rose to their feet one by one. Thor made a show of cracking his knuckles after he winked at you. You had nothing to fear. They didn't want to hurt you. So why were you still trembling?

Steve slipped his jacket off and strode forward until he was beside his best friend. “You said that to her?”

John bravely or stupidly attempted to deflect. “The music is loud and-”

“You better shut your fucking mouth if you even think of calling her a liar. Not that I need anyone else’s word except for hers, but Hal also heard you. Even told you to apologize, which you chose to ignore. I can pull up the camera if you want to see the footage.” Bucky’s even tone had you trembling in your spot just like John. “You really have the nerve to come into my club and speak to my girl like that?”

John scrambled for words as he pointed at you. “I didn't… I mean, look at what she’s wearing! How was I supposed to know?”

“Bucky.” John swallowed when the rest of the men shifted to surround him. The only exception was Ray, who stood closest to you. “I…”

“Apologize to her,” he snarled. “Get on your fucking knees and say you’re sorry.”

“I’m sorry.” John glanced at the floor. “Don't make me get on my knees.”

“That’s enough! I don't want his apology anyway,” you spoke up. An empty apology from a jackass was meaningless. “I appreciate that you want him to say sorry, but I’d rather he just leave if that's okay. Please.”

Bucky let out a slow breath. “My girl has a kind heart.” He briefly took his eyes off John to offer you a soft smile before turning his attention back to him. “But I don't. You’re banned from my club. And by the end of the day tomorrow, you’ll be banned from just about everywhere in the city.”

John laughed, a broken, nervous sound. “This is a joke, right?”

Bucky cracked his neck. “I’ve never liked you. None of us do. We tolerated you, but I won't tolerate you insulting my girl.” He signaled for Ari to open the doors. “So you have two options. You can leave on your own and be permanently banned from this establishment. Or I can make you leave and you’ll be permanently banned from this establishment. Your choice.”

“You can't ban me for one comment! That's insane!”

“I consider it harassment,” Bucky corrected him. Ironic coming from him since he invaded your life. “I take it I'll have to make you leave?”

“You know what? Fuck you. This club sucks anyway.” John moved toward the door before he stopped to look back at you. “And you think you’re special since you're up here? You’re just an uptight bitch who-”

Bucky’s fist connected with John’s jaw before he could finish his insult and you could only shriek as he hit the wall and crumbled to the floor a heartbeat later. Steve hauled him to his feet by his collar before he could recover and punched him in the stomach hard enough that you flinched. Ray shielded your body as best as he could as everyone took turns punching him.

“Don't look,” he whispered.

“I don't know if I can do this,” you whispered back. You were trying to stay calm, but this…

“Yes, you can. Just breathe. In and out,” Ray urged. His face didn't give much away, but you sensed his relief when you took a few deep breaths. “There you go. And don't look.”

You didn't look. It still didn’t block out the sounds, fists connecting against skin and bones, and John’s pained groans. Nor did it stop you from shaking. It couldn't have lasted more than a minute, but it felt like a lifetime until the room went quiet again. Was it over?

“What did you guys do to him?!” You asked, loosening your hold on Ray’s arm. When did you grab him?

“We taught him a lesson.” Bucky flexed his fingers with a sigh. “I have an abundance of patience for you, it's less so with people who are disrespectful and vulgar with you.”

Ray still shielded you when you tried to look where John lay in a heap, but was careful not to touch you. “...Is he breathing?”

“He is and he's lucky for that,” Bucky replied, nudging him with his foot. “Looking strong, John.”

“About time we shut him up,” Nick said, plopping back down in his seat. “Should've banned him months ago.”

“No one deserves a beating more than John,” Steve said, gazing at you like a big brother who just beat up a schoolyard bully for picking on you. “And don't worry. He won’t speak to you like that again.”

“He won’t be speaking much at all after that,” Sam said, taking a drink from Thor’s outstretched hand. “No big loss there.”

“Ari, would you mind taking out the trash?” Bucky asked, tilting his head as he looked down at John. “And can you get the cleaners up here to do something about the blood on my carpet?”

“On it.” Ari effortlessly picked John up and put him over his shoulder as you tried to process what you witnessed. You were past processing any of it, your brain nearly broken from the stress.

In fact, the only one phased by the violence was you as everyone went about their business again. It made your head spin. That was all from a guy insulting you. What would they do if someone actually tried to do anything to you?

Ray stepped aside when Bucky made his way back to you, the anger gone from his eyes. “You’re shaking,” he whispered, pressing his lips against your forehead. “I'm sorry if that scared you.”

“Of course, it scared me! You all beat the hell out of him,” you scolded. On instinct, you grabbed his hand to check it. You had no idea why you wanted to make sure his hand was okay after everything. “None of you had to do that.”

“We don't like bullies,” Steve said as Bucky let you inspect his hand, your fingers gently brushing over his knuckles. “It was bad enough what he said, but he knocked you out the way, too, and didn't apologize. He deserved it.”

“Yeah, he did,” Bucky agreed, taking the opportunity to grip your hand before you could let him go.

“That was a bit much,” you said. It was overkill in your eyes. “I'm not worth beating someone up over.”

He met your gaze with a smile. “You’re worth more than I can ever give you. And he won't be bothering anyone in this club ever again.”

“You're really going to ban him?”

“Absolutely. I have a reputation to uphold. He's only going to mess that up if I let him stick around.”

“Ari isn't going to…” You weren’t sure what he would do to John since they were out of sight.

“You don’t need to worry about a thing.” Bucky moved his hand to your cheek. “I only wish I could hit him again for how he spoke about you.”

“His actions got him hurt because he hurt you first. I know he did. And I said I’d step in if someone hurt or upset you.” His gaze dropped to your mouth when you bit your lip again. The insult did bother you, but it didn’t matter now. “You really do have a kind heart and you’re making it very difficult not to kiss you right now,” he added, brushing his thumb over your lips.

Goosebumps rolled over your skin at the touch, but you stepped back before he could push his thumb into your mouth. He was still dangerous. Still taking over your life. That was enough to wake you from any spell he tried to put you under. “You’re driving me crazy.”

“Just returning the favor.” He held up his hand again with a small smile. “You sure you don’t want to give it another look? A little kiss might make it feel better.”

You rolled your eyes. The man was utterly ridiculous. “I’m not kissing your hand, Bucky. We both know it’s fine.”

“One little kiss? Please?” He winced for show as he flexed his fingers again, but you wouldn't budge. “C’mon. You were worried about my hand enough to check it for damage.”

You shook your head. “I wasn't worried. I just wanted to make sure you didn't injure yourself because that would just be one more thing you’d hold over my head,” you deflected, glancing around to find everyone staring at you again with smiles on their faces at the exchange. “Thanks for defending me.”

“Nothing to thank us for,” Thor held his glass up to you.

Steve looked at the monitor that displayed the coat room. “We take care of our own.”

An alarm on Bucky’s phone went off before you could say anything else. “And look at that? It’s time to go.” The men groaned before he shut the alarm off. “I promised I’d have her home and I’m keeping that promise.”

Steve looked the most disappointed of all. “I barely got to talk to her,” he grumbled.

“Next time, okay? And the double date soon.” Bucky smiled at his friend.

“It was wonderful to meet you,” Thor said as Nick and Sam nodded in your direction. “And I hope to see you at my party next week. Everyone will be there.”

“Maybe,” you said, putting as much emphasis on the word as possible. How would you get out of that? And the double date?

“Okay, you’re all welcome to hang out, but we’re leaving,” Bucky said.

“Maybe I should find my own way home,” you said. Bucky didn’t just have his claws in you, his friends did, too. You needed a breather. Some wine. “I really don't mind getting a cab.”

“Not happening,” he whispered. It was worth a shot. “I need to make sure you get in bed safely.”

“In bed?” You repeated, almost laughing until you saw his serious expression. “You seriously don't expect me to invite you in, do you?”

“Yeah, I do,” he said, steering you toward the door as Ray followed. “Besides, who else is going to tuck you in?”

Was tucking you in going to be enough to satisfy him tonight or would he take it further?

You’d find out soon enough.

Now we know what happened to John! What do we think of his friends? Will Bucky be good when he takes you home? Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

#bucky barnes x reader #reread

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celestialgalaxyglow · 12 hours ago

Text

Batfam and Danny, Part 5

The following morning on the roof of Jason and Danny's apartment.

Jason: Good job patrolling yesterday kid.

Danny: Thanks dad.

A massive light engulfed the area and a massive creature appeared before them.

Jason (too tired to care): Friend of yours?

Danny: That’s Cthulhu.

Jason (the literature major): As in Lovecraft?

Danny: Yeah, but he misrepresented Cthulhu greatly in his books. For his slander H. P. Lovecraft is in the Realms of Infinite Punishment.

Jason: I see.

Danny (looking at Cthulhu): Hi C!

Cthulhu (bowing): Greets my Lord.

Danny: Need something?

Cthulhu: Whilst wondering the Lands of Nightmares and Infinite Darkness I came across this... I want to say it’s a cat. I believe you will like it.

He handed Danny the “cat.” The creature had six legs, and fur as black as the void glowing with glittering stardust.

Danny: It’s so cute! Thank you, C!

Cthulhu: Anything for you, my Lord.

Cthulhu vanished.

Jason: Danny, you are my son, and I love you, but sometimes you frighten me.

Danny: I think Bruce feels the same about you.

Jason: Well, yes, but that’s beside the point. He looks at the “cat” in Danny’s arms. So, what is that?

Danny: No idea, but he’s mine now. I’ll call him Shadow.

The “cat” meowed.

Danny (walking away): You will be my greatest warrior.

Jason (smiling): I love my strange little son.

Later in the apartment.

Jason: Hey Danny, I've been thinking about something.

Danny: What is it?

Jason: You're a king.

Danny: I am.

Jason: If you're here, who's ruling your kingdom?

Danny: I have a regent.

Jason: Who?

Danny: Would you like to meet him?

Jason: Sure?

Danny: Vlad!

Vlad appeared in the living from a burst of green fire.

Vlad: You summoned Danny?

Danny: Dad, this is Vladimir Plasmius, my regent and former archenemy. Vlad this is my dad, Jason.

Vlad (bowing): It is an honor to make your acquittance Your Imperial Lordship.

Jason: "Your Imperial Lordship?"

Vlad (looking at Danny): You didn't tell him?

Jason: Tell me what?

Danny: I granted you a title. Danny summoned a scroll and handed to Jason.

-----

Hereby decreed by his Imperial and Royal Chthonic Majesty:

By our royal authority we hereby grant Jason Todd-Wayne the following title:

His Imperial Lordship, Jason, the King's Father.

Signed, Danny Rex-Imperator, Supreme King of the Infinite Realms, High King of the Ghost Zone, King of all Ghosts, First among the Eldritch Ones.

-----

Jason (tearing up): "The King's Father."

Danny: Well you are my dad.

Jason (ran up to Danny and hugged him): I love you son.

Danny: Dad! Not in front of my regent!

Vlad (smiling): Good to see you found someone to care for you Danny. He looked at Jason. You have proven yourself worthy of the title of the King's father, Lord Jason.

Jason: I try my best.

Vlad: So I see. He adjusted his suit. But if that be all I shall make my way back to the Infinite Realms. Good bye your Lordships. Vlad vanished.

Jason (looking at Danny): I love you kid.

Danny: Love you too dad.

A few hours later.

Jason (cooking lunch): Danny...

Danny (setting the table): Yes?

Jason: Why did we not get any messages from Bruce or the others about a massive eldritch creature appearing in the middle of Gotham in broad daylight?

Danny: Cthulhu was hiding himself, we only saw him because we are in some way connected to the Infinite Realms.

Jason: Ah.

Danny: Good thing honestly, Bruce would have had a heart attack.

Jason (laughing): Yeah he would have. Jason went back to cooking lunch.

Danny: You're going to tell him later aren't you?

Jason (smiling): Oh 100%!

A while later while cleaning the plates.

Jason: Danny I have an idea, and I want you to tell me if it's crazy.

Danny: Hit me.

Jason: I want to apply to grad school, so I can latter go for a doctorate, so can be a doctor just to spite Bruce.

Danny (laughing): That would be hilarious! But do you like your field that much?

Jason: Yes, I love literature!

Danny: Go for it then.

Jason: It's settled then, I'm applying to graduate school!

Meanwhile at Wayne Manor. Bruce Sneezes.

Alfred: Bless you Master Bruce.

Bruce: One of my kids is doing something overly dramatic just to spite me...

(Master Post)

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carylmeanslove · 1 day ago

Text

Luke's Floral touch to their meal.

Nicola posted a story picture of a romantic birthday dinner for two from last night. This post of course is just speculation. There are loads of clues as to who's with her. The photo taker seems tall, her smile is so obvious a smile she does with a certain denim blue eyed gentleman, it's a freaking Italian restaurant, the cutlery placement. There is some who even see something in the reflective surfaces. I haven't tried looking that close to that one. I am confident it's Luke.

Anyways...I am going to analyze the flowers in this post, because Fran asked me too. So here you go Fran, love ya!

I have looked on a site to see if there are vases on every table as a house decoration. There isn't a vase of flowers on every table, you can go look on TripAdvisor. So yeah, there is a vase of two medium sized bloomed roses here that Luke could have brought with them or most likely was asked to be added on his behalf when making the reservation. There is one yellow rose and the other a red rose. The red doesn't look very vibrate red, but I am taking lighting into account here. The low romantic lighting would lighten it.

Yellow Roses

As you can see it symbolizes the core of their relationship. They are each other's best friend. It makes sense that he would pick this bloom. It represents the core of their relationship. Where it started. The friend part of friends to lovers. That part never goes away. The rest is just added. This is just his way of representing the loyalty, devotion and care of their relationship. I also like to add a spouse is a relative. Not to mention also a symbol of happiness. Spot the perfect birthday gift part.

Red Roses

Now on to the lovers' part of their Friends to lovers' story. It is a clear, like their connection is clear to those of us who can understand it, of their love. The symbol of a deep, passionate, romantic love. They are classic expression of love, longing and desire. As well as respect, admiration and devotion.

Yep, it checks, because like their characters these two are also friends to lovers in real life. Reel to Real, indeed. Thanks for the bread crumb and another bit of a look at yours and Luke's beautiful life, Nicola. We love you both so much and we are so happy for you. Glad you had such a wonderful birthday.

#Lukola #Lukola in flowers #Lukola floral language #Friends to lovers #Friends and lovers

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onlyangel4 · 2 days ago

Text

onlyangel4 1k event - P6. LN4. SMAU.

trope: best friends

pairing: lando norris x best friend!reader

faceclaim: olivia ponton

1k event

y/ninsta posted a story

written: just arrived in miami, can you guess what for?

ln4updates posted a story

written: y/n is in the paddock, our boy has his lucky charm

maxfewtrell posted a story tagging y/ninsta + landonorris

written: safe to say who we are cheering on this weekend

teamlando

liked by user1, user2, user3 and 34,829 others

team lando: ted kravitz just cornered model y/n y/ln (lando's best friend) in his pit lane walk and that interview is going to go in the hall of fame

ted: y/n y/n lets have a quick chat

y/n: you know i could never say no to you ted

ted: so how do you think your boy is going to do today?

y/n: well i have told him that i will be flying the plane home if he doesn't get on that podium, so for everyone's sake he better deliver

ted: are you going to give him a kiss if he wins

y/n: are you?

view all 2,398 comments

user1: she gagged him, his face was so fucking funny

user2: in y/n we trust

user3: ted is the biggest y/n lando shipper out there

y/ninsta

liked by landonorris, kendalljenner, alexandrasaintmleux and 921,211 others

tagged: landonorris

y/ninsta: i have cried so many happy tears this weekend. growing up with you i have always been able to see how much effort you put into everything that you do and i am so proud of you for finally getting your first win !

i love you so much lando, the best friend a girl could ever have

view all 23,493 comments

landonorris: i'm so glad my day one was there to see it

y/ninsta: i'll always be in your corner

maxfewtrell: the best weekend

y/ninsta: thank you for not laughing at me when i cried

user4: bro got friendzoned in the caption

user5: y/n and lando admit you are in love with each other challenge

y/ninsta posted a story

written: dinner to celebrate lando !

landonorris posted a story

written: dinner with my day one

ln4updates posted a story

written: lando spotted in a club in miami, drunk as shit

y/ninsta posted a story

landonorris posted a story tagging y/ninsta

written: my girl x

∘•···············•∘ʚ ♡ ɞ∘•················•∘

@bibissparkles

@milkysoop

@hadids-world

@callsignwidow

@barcelonaloverf1life

@queen-of-the-hunt

@piastrams

@kravitzwhore

@a-beaverhausen

@fangirlforever2000

@formulaal

@azeal-peal

@magical-spit

@that-one-little-soybean

@raizelchrysanderoctavius

@zatarias-pandora

@unknownmystery22

@anotheranotherblogwoah

@leclercdream

@charlesgirl16

@kikiki04

@dullypully

@awritingtree

@stylesmoonlight12

@pippyth3hippy

@hc-dutch

@whosra

@lancestrollsgf

@dying-inside-but-its-classy

@vulkaari

@random-human02

@daisyfreecs

@fandommaniac07

@mbioooo0000

@novelswithariana

@exotic-iris13

@natashaalinovaromanoff1984

@colmathgames2

@ajordan2020

@sltwins

@nichmeddar

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sapphira-mydnyte · 1 day ago

Text

♥Shy Snake King♥

Warning: Snake, pain infliction, emotional overload.

Sebastian knows Ominis is deserving of being loved & he knows who his crush is. He means no harm, but Ominis is super shy & hates it when Sebastian tries to rush things. Ominis wants to take it slow & really work on not being so shy around the one he wants, but coming from such an abusive household that thrives on dark magic makes it extremely hard for him. He doesn't want the girl he really wants to be put off by his family, nor the fact that he's a parselmouth. Although she's accepting of it, there's always going to be a part of him that's scared. That underlying fear is that you won't like him when he gets cranky or that his family will come after you. He just doesn't want any harm to come to his girl, nor for her to have a reason to hate him. He knows his animagus form is a snake of some sort because he's an heir & Ominis, loving as he is, doesn't want his girl to be scared of him when he turns into whatever snake he truly is. He hopes he's a ball python though, a very cute one & not any bigger than he is at his full height for the length of the snake. Sebastian, being playful & meaning no harm, pushed the poor blond a little too hard. The blue-eyed heir nearly fell into a kiss on the girl he had the biggest crush on & it unnerved him entirely! "SEBASTIAN!! Get your ass back here!! You're gonna pay for that!! YOU KNOW BETTER!!" Embarrassed with a full blush on his face, he gave chase to the mischievous brunette Scotsman. Ominis was NOT having his own best friend ruin that kiss for him & that was too damned close for his comfort! "I'm the heir you idiot!! You know a damned well have a standard!!" He fired a few shots of Depulso at Sebastian, but he dodged the spells with ease & pulled up his shield in a full run for the last one. "Come on then Ominis! I know you're better than that! You want her that bad? Huh? Do you?!" Sebastian was just slightly short than Ominis, but he was the better runner, which irked Ominis to no end. He had the longer stride, but Sebastian had that little extra muscle to him thanks to all the running around he did with his sister. As for the lovely lady that had stolen Ominis' heart? She was stunned that Sebastian was that brash about it, but thought it hilarious as Ominis tore across the field & getting closer by the second as they headed for the doors to the Great Hall. "Oh, Sebastian... what am I going to do with you & Ominis?" She couldn't help but laugh at Ominis' reaction, as he was clearly not ready to make a move that quick & nearly knocked his best friend down with his sharp aim. "Oh Ominis... don't take it too hard on Sallow... he knows where your heart lies & wants you happy, plus, I don't think Anne will like it if you torch his eyebrows again." She walked towards the Great Hall, following the Slytherin boys a mile behind. Sebastian may have rushed it a bit, but she knew how to make it better. With a little smirk on her face, she strutted through the doors of the Great Hall. "Pretty boy Gaunt has no idea what he's in for later... not in the slightest." Her plan? Sneak the gorgeous blond out & give him that much needed kiss in the Undercroft after locking the door behind them. Sebastian wasn't going to ruin his moment like he said & she'd make sure that the proud heir was made into a boyfriend before the sun rose the next morning. ♥

Kabedon

Sebastian really wants to intervene in his best friend's romance🤣

#hogwarts legacy #ominis gaunt #slytherin #king of snakes #sebastian sallow #king of curses #heir of slytherin #hogwarts legacy ominis #hogwarts legacy sebastian #shy snake king #note to self... never upset a Gaunt #once you embarrass poor Ominis... he shows no mercy #sebby is in soo much trouble for that #omi gonna spank sebby's cute ass for what he did right when she walks through those doors too!#omi is really shy around girls okay? like... really shy around the ones he likes

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from-izzy · 3 days ago

Text

[17:07] | enhypen park sunghoon

Sunghoon grunts at the reminder of your true visit, yet still makes love to your collarbones to cherish every second with you. “Not yet…” he pleads that time will go slower.

pairing » enhypen park sunghoon x fem!reader

trope/au » established relationship au, (not so) secret relationship au, non-idol au

genre » fluffy fluff with slight suggestive themes (nothing like this), lovesick and cute sunghoon, boyfriend sunghoon, reader helping with sunghoon's sister's dinner dance prep!

word count; estimated reading time » 1293; ~5 mins

warnings (lmk if i missed anything!) » getting caught during making out by sunghoon's sister, kissing on lower abdomen/body, sunghoon lifts reader, reader implied to be smaller than sunghoon

navi/masterlist!! 🤍 enhypen masterlist

my debut to enhablr...? i see clips of sunghoon and heeseung and they make me wanna get into enha 🥹 i'm sure the fandom knows that sunghoon has a sister but i didn't use her real name for this fic; it just makes me more comfortable in this way. hope you all enjoy!!

You don't usually knock on the Park’s residence house since Sunghoon would usually open it for you as per his invite, or help you sneak in through the side window. But today is a bit different since today is Serin’s dinner dance at her school, and she asked you for help with makeup and outfits. In a heartbeat, you agreed, especially since the event has been a special one for you since the day Sunghoon asked you to be his.

Sunghoon knows about you coming over to help his sister, but knowing that your visit today isn't for him puts a frown on his face. His relationship with you is still private, which is something that you both want at the current moment. But after a year of dating, he can't wait to formally introduce his once best friend to his family who is already very fond of you.

“Thank you so much for coming!” The door opens to reveal the younger girl. “Come in!”

You chuckle at her excited nature. You know Serin has been a delightful one since a long time ago, and you're glad to be part of a wonderful event for her. A few steps into the house, you see Sunghoon by the couch, resting his chin on his arm as he pouts at you.

“Hey,” you greet him casually, sneaking in a wink behind Serin.

Sunghoon rolls his eyes away playfully, turning around to the television as he sulks and sinks into the couch.

“Oppa! Don't be rude!” Serin defends you. “But whatever, guess I'll have her to myself.”

If it was anyone other than his beloved sister saying those words, Sunghoon would cling to your side, sweep you off your feet and claim your lips with his. “Whatever,” Sunghoon dismisses her with a hand wave.

Upstairs, Serin had all her makeup and dress options ready for your second opinion. It wasn't long until you chose the one you thought suited her the best, helping her change and adjusting it to fit nicely on her body. Just as so, it didn't take long until your numerous hair and makeup suggestions were chosen by her.

“You're gonna be the prettiest girl in the room,” you blend the pink blush across her cheeks.

“Of course, I am. You're the one giving me the makeup after all,” you chuckle at her words, adding the finishing touches and setting spray onto her face. “Don't tell Sunghoon this, but I'm going with a date.”

You gasp at the information. “Really?! That's so cute! Let me see a picture!”

Serin skips over to make sure the bedroom door is locked before sitting on the edge of her bed, patting the empty space beside her for you. The younger swipes through the many pictures in her gallery, recounting the main parts of that day spent together.

You know what it feels like to be attracted to someone. To like someone, and ultimately, to be head over heels in love with someone. Looking through the pictures of her and her partner for the dance, you could tell that it wasn't puppy love or a short-lived crush. How'd you know? Her eyes sparkle with minimal lighting as they cuddle in the picture tells you everything her heart feels.

“Don't tell Sunghoon please,” a pout overtakes her face. “You know how protective he is, and I promise I will tell him soon.”

You squint your eyes in suspicion, humming in contemplation. The younger pleads once more, a pinky out hanging in the air, waiting for yours. In the end, you gave in, knowing well that you weren't going to not agree from the start. You understand where she's coming from since your brother is the same as well.

“Alright, go get the rest of your things ready!” You nudged your shoulder against hers and excused yourself from her room.

As soon as the door clicks securely shut, your fingertips on the metal knob don't even get a chance to properly let go when they're replaced with warmth instead. A hand grasps the side of your waist, pulling you next door where the meaning behind another click of this door differs greatly.

You yelp at the soft tug, a hand protecting the back of your head when your body hits the door. The room is barely lit, only the moon and the street lights shining through from the still-opened curtains beside you giving the luminance enough for you to face your blushing boyfriend.

Sunghoon sighs deeply with how he manages to finally have alone time with you successfully without getting caught. His lips finally attach to yours, drowning out the giggling and pleasurable moaning slipping out from the both of you. Your eyelids flutter shut, brushing against his skin gently as he shudders at the way your nose nudges his as you kiss him feverishly. As the situation escalates, the hood around his head falls, giving your hand access to his beautiful locks.

The grip on the side of your body tightens only slightly as your boyfriend pulls you closer to his chest that your hands rest on. Sunghoon leaves your lips, travelling to your ears to huskily whisper, “Hi baby girl,” he kisses your ear after, kissing along your jawline and neck as you gasp at him.

“H-Hoon-” you hiss at the pressure he puts on a sensitive part of your neck, messing and tugging on his hair. “Your sister is going to be ready at any time now.”

Sunghoon grunts at the reminder of your true visit, yet still makes love to your collarbones to cherish every second with you. “Not yet…” he pleads that time will go slower.

The hand behind your head joins the other side of your body, slithering down to the back of your thighs as Sunghoon kneels, continuing to trail his kisses to your clothed stomach. With a swift motion, he carries you by your thighs, standing up and walking towards his bed. He never spared a moment where his lips didn't touch your heated body. There was no time for your heart to calm its racing pace, the adrenaline of staying quiet hitting you both.

Now seated on his bed with you straddling his built thighs, you take this moment to fully open your eyes, seeing the white light shine upon his red cheeks. His palm cups the apple of your cheeks, foreheads resting as you catch your breaths.

“Can't get enough of you,” he mutters. “I just want and need you all the time…”

Sunghoon is cute when he's lovesick like this, your cheeks instantly heating more than before at his confession. You hum, “I love you, Hoon.”

“I love you much more.”

His orbs sparkle upon yours sincerely for a second until his open lips come closer to claim yours again. You're millimetres apart when the door opens unexpectedly behind you. Your body reacts first, jumping away from Sunghoon, pushing him flat onto the bed as you pull your clothes to straighten the creases of the makeout.

Serin covers her eyes even if you both are detached, the split second burning into her memory. “I knew you guys were together, but I didn't know it was getting spicy here!”

Sunghoon’s body springs up from the mattress, “You knew yet you still came in?!”

“Wait, that's what you're worried about?!” you exclaim with wide eyes at your boyfriend. “You knew all this time?!” Questioning the grinning sister at the door.

“I know I just kind of exposed you, but don't expose me!” Serin shouts as she retreats to a safer part of the house.

“What does that mean?!” The clueless brother runs out to interrogate his sibling while you're left dumbfounded at what just happened in the last few seconds.

navi/masterlist!! 🤍 enhypen masterlist

tags: @k-films @k-films @kflixnet @starlit-network @kstrucknet

@haneul-and-clouds @sunlightwoo @hursheys

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wlwsoccerfics · 1 day ago

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Hidden Love(GeorgiaStanwayXWilliamsonReader)

Warnings: mentions of minor s*xual activity, it's mentioned that things get heated.

Summary: Trying to hide your relationship with Georgia from the other lionesses & your sister doesn't go as planned.

Your Bayern Munich teammates knew. Things were easier over there. It wasn't like you thought your teammates in England wouldn't understand or Support the two of you. Because they for sure would. But they have known both of you for so long. Much longer then the FC Bayern girls. So the other lionesses were quite protective & you were quite sure If they knew they would watch you guys like Hawks to make sure you wouldn't Break eachothers hearts and you two wouldn't get much alone time because in their minds the two of you are still teenagers.

When you reached the Hotel for national camp you and Georgia were greeted by Alessia, Leah and Beth "Baby Williamson!G!"Beth said and pulled you both in for a hug. The two of you hugged her back. "Hey Bethy, hi lessi and hey Sis!" You replied and hugged Alessia after Beth let go of you. Then you moved over to your Sister. "I am so glad to have you back!" Leah told you, which made you smile a little. "Let's see and wait how long this is gonna be the Case for!" You replied jokingly. "Careful or we sent you back to Munich!" Leah warned you but it of course was just a joke as well. "So G? How is your Dating Life going?" Alessia asked and you glance over to your girlfriend seeing how she was trying to form some words. "Uh...uh it's not going at all! I am single!" she managed to get out. Blushing a bit. She was not a very good liar. "Oh my...there is someone i can tell!" Lessi answered with a grin. "Do you know more about who she is seeing?" Beth asked you. Damn things were going the wrong way so fast. 'yes she is seeing me' you thought to yourself but of course you didn't say that. "No idea. She wouldn't have time to see anyone! We work out alot over there and are hanging out with the team, cooking dinner or going Out as a Team to do whatever! So no time to meet anyone to Date!" You let them know. G glancing over at you and you glance at her which Lessi did notice but she decided Not to say anything and just keep a watchful eye on the two of you cause she could totally tell something was going on.

After you talked for a bit you went to your room. You were sharing with Keira. Pretty sure that was so you won't get in trouble. Georgia was sharing with your Sister. Out of all people. Keira was basically like a big sister to you as well. You did ask yourself for a moment why Leah & Keira didn't share a room since they are besties. But you decided not to question it for now.

"So Baby Williamson, anything interesting happened over there? Hookups? Scandals?" Keira asked, sitting on the edge of your bed. "Why are you all so interested in what happens in Munich dating wise?" You wanted to know. Keira chuckled softly but she was a bit nervous which you found weird. "Just interested in your Life, you are basically my little sister." Which was true cause she was so close with Leah and the two always were protective of you.

At the same time with Leah & Georgia...

Georgia was unpacking her stuff. "So y/n really didn't meet anyone over there? Cause i am thinking about setting her up with my Friends sister!" She spoke up, making sure to carefully watch Georgias reaction. Your girlfriend really tried her best to not scream out how bad of an Idea this was. "Are you sure she wants that? she told me she likes being single!" Georgia let your sister know. She for sure would tell you about that.

Dinner time came a few hours later. You didn't have one single second of time alone with georgia from the moment you got to Camp today. So you were quite thankful when the Team Dinner was over and you could go back to your room. Claiming you wanted to rest. Georgia told everyone she wasn't feeling well and wanted to sleep it off. The Rest of the Team went out to go Bowling. when they were gone you and Georgia met up in her room."your sister wants to Set You Up with someone!" She let you know. "Gonna give her a piece of my mind about that later! Let's not think about Le right now!" You pulled her close and kissed her. "It only has been a few hours but i missed you and your lips already!" She told you in between kisses. "I know what you mean i missed you as well!" You replied, only pulling away from her to take off your shirt. She watched you throw your Shirt onto the floor, before her eyes went back to you. "I am so lucky!" She breathed out. Staring at you. "You are! But so am i!" You told her, the Williamson confidence showing it's presence. She grinned softly and took her own shirt off.

Quickly things got really heated, spending some very passionate Moments with one another. After that you moved from the bed to the bathroom of the hotel room. Enjoying a hot shower together.

The two of you had no idea that Leah had just returned to her room. The room she was sharing with Georgia. Aka the room you were in. She wasn't alone though. No she was with Lucy, Beth, Keira and Alessia. Leah just wanted to grab her Phone charger and Go to the gaming room with the rest. Plus they wanted to Check in on Georgia. Since she claimed she wasn't feeling well. Alessia noticed the clothes on the floor. "Looks like she isn't alone!" Lessi whispered out, pointing to your and Georgias clothes on the floor. Beth realized that the clothes belonged to you. "Oh my god! We were right! Those are Baby Williamsons clothes!" She answered. Leah now realized that as well. "Told you i knew there was something up when i facetimed her and noticed one of Georgias Hoodies in a Corner of her room." Leah replied and laughed softly. The two of you walked out with only towels wrapped around you and her. Joking around when you you noticed your sister and teammates standing there. "Looks like y/n took good care of you, Georgia! You Look Like you feel so much more alive!" Leah said with a soft smirk. Beth grinned softly. "We suspected something was going on between the two of you! So we tried to keep an eye on both of you." She stated. "Exactly! Which is why Keira was your roommate and Leah was yours Georgia!" Alessia explained. Both of you were still staring at them, not having said a single word. "I thought this was weird!" You finally told them. "We didn't tell you because you Guys are always so protective of us! And we didn't want you to treat us like children that are not allowed to kiss and stuff!" Georgia explained. "Yes to what my girlfriend just said!" You reply. Looking at them. "Okay fair...but really we are Happy for you! But If either one of you Breaks the other ones Heart we will kick some Butt!" Keira answered. "Agreed!" Lucy stated. "So G, looks Like the two of us have to have a serious talk about your intentions with my sister!" Leah told Georgia. "Leah!" You warned your sister. "I am joking!" Your sister replied.

You two ended up joining the rest of the Team and telling them about your relationship. They all were Happy for you and Georgia. But you still weren't allowed to Switch roommates cause it could possible be a distraction If you two would share a room.

#womens soccer #woso x reader #woso #soccer #womens football #georgia stanway x reader #fc bayern munich women #georgia stanway

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yoursselo · 2 days ago

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Birthday boy

a/n: happy international mason tony mount day to all who celebrate. i love mason sooooo much and thank god he was born. he not only graces the world with his pretty face but also is the reason why i have made so many friends on here. so this is a present from me to you! i hope you guys like it. love you lots 🩷

word count: around 1k

warnings: none

It was a beautiful day in Manchester. Despite the cold weather the sky was blue, and sunlight was beaming into your and Mason’s bedroom. It was 6 a.m., and you had just woken up. Normally, you would have stayed in bed longer to get some extra sleep and cuddle with Mason, however you had a tight schedule. Today was Mason’s birthday and you wanted the day to be extra special and unforgettable for him - one filled with love, warmth, and little surprises.

To get everything done on time, you carefully slipped out of bed, making sure not to wake up Mason with your movement. Before leaving the room, you gave him a kiss on the cheek and slipped into the hoodie he had worn the night before, that still smelled like him. On tiptoes, you made your way to the living room, where you took the balloons and the garlands out of the cupboard, ready to get to work. You blew twenty-six balloons up and made sure they were all floating against the ceiling. The table was decorated with photos of Mason through his years, each of them capturing a special moment in his life. Once the decorations were set, you started making breakfast. The smell of chocolate chip pancakes filled the air and you poured his favourite tea in a mug that said “#1 Boyfriend”, which you had gotten him as a Valentine’s Day gift during the early days of your relationship.

While you prepared the surprise, Mason slowly began to wake up. His hand instinctively reached for your side of the bed, seeking some morning cuddles, only to find it cold. He frowned and wondered where you were. Confused, he got up and began to dress for his recovery session.

When he was ready, he headed to the living room entirely unaware of the surprise waiting for him. The moment he entered the room Mason froze. His eyes widened as he took in the decorations—the balloons, the photos, the garland—and then his gaze landed on you, standing there with a huge smile, holding a plate of pancakes. “HAPPY BIRTHDAY, BABY!” you said, your voice full of excitement. Before he could say anything, you rushed over to him and planted kisses all over his face. You popped a party hat on his head and walked him to the decorated table. “Surprise”, you said gazing at him with affection. “What…? You did all of this?” he asked softly. “Of course, babe! Only the best for the birthday boy. Come on, sit down. You have got pancakes waiting for you.” “This is... incredible. Thank you so much,” he said, his voice thick with emotion. He reached out to pull you into a hug, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “You always know how to make me feel better.”

As you lit a single candle on the stack of pancakes and began singing “Happy Birthday”, Mason chuckled. “Make a wish,” you said waiting for him to blow the candle out. His face lit up with a smile, one you hadn’t seen in weeks. Seeing his smile brought you so much joy that you got emotional. As he leaned forward to blow the candle out, he paused. His gaze flickered at you, as he noticed that tears were welling up in your eyes. “Hey, babe. Why are you crying?” he said gently. “I don’t know honestly. I’m just really glad you were born. I love you so much. Now blow out the candle before it burns the pancakes.” You laughed, brushing the tears away. “Oh, baby,” Mason murmured, his voice soft and full of affection. “I am the happiest when I’m with you.”

After blowing out the candle, he started on his pancakes. You guys chatted for a bit and enjoyed your joyful morning. Once everything was finished you handed him your first present. A leather-strapped watch with an engraving of the HMS Warrior on the back, an homage to his beloved hometown of Portsmouth. Mason ran his fingers over the engraving. “I can’t believe you thought of this. You don’t know how much this means to me.” He looked up at you, his voice thick with gratitude. “I’ll treasure this forever. One day, I’ll give it to our kids.” He leaned forward, capturing your lips in a slow, tender kiss.

Shortly after your beautiful morning, Mase left for training, which meant that you had to start getting ready for the evening. You tidied everything up and transformed the living room into a cozy heaven with soft blankets and pillows. For dinner you decided to make something different – Mason’s favourite: sushi!

By the time Mason returned home, everything was set. You also had changed into a nice dress with a set of lingerie underneath as his second present. When Mase stepped inside your house his eyes lit up at the sight of the cozy setup. “Wow,” he said, shaking his head. “You really went all out, didn’t you?” “All for you,” you teased, leading him to the table.

The two of you enjoyed your meal and cuddled on the couch, watching a movie.

Later that night, after the two of you made love, you were laying l in bed wearing one of Mason’s shirts, you reached under the bed for the final present. “I have one more thing for you,” you said, handing it to him.

Mason unwrapped the gift, his brows furrowing as he pulled out what appeared to be a comic book. Instead of Spider-Man on the cover, it was a beautifully illustrated version of Mason in a superhero costume.

“What is this?” he asked, his voice filled with curiosity.

“Open it,” you urged, smiling.

As Mason flipped through the pages, his expression shifted from surprise to emotional. The comic told the story of his life, starting with his childhood in Portsmouth. It captured his early days playing football, his time at Vitesse and Derby, and his rise to fame at Chelsea. Each page was filled with vibrant details—his first goal, the Champions League win, and even some of his struggles.

When he reached the pages showing his time at Manchester United, Mason looked up at you with wide eyes. The final illustration depicted Mason standing tall in his superhero costume, with the words “To Be Continued” written in bold letters.

Mason stared at the page with teary eyes. “You did this... for me?”

You nodded, tears in your eyes. “You’re my hero, Mase. I wanted to show you how much you inspire me. You’ve faced so much, and you never give up. I wanted you to see your journey the way I see it—amazing and far from over. There’s so much more ahead for you, and I’m so glad I get to be by your side.”

Mason swallowed, his eyes brimming with tears. “I... I don’t even know what to say,” he murmured, pulling you into his arms. “Thank you. For everything. For seeing me this way. I don’t know what I did to deserve you, but I’m so grateful you’re mine.”

He kissed you deeply, his emotions pouring into the gesture. For the rest of the night, the two of you flipped through the comic together, marveling at the illustrations and reliving the memories that were captured. Finally, you both fell asleep in each other’s arms, feeling overwhelmed with love and gratitude.

#mason mount #mason mount fluff #mason mount x reader #mason mount imagine #mason mount x you #mason mount blurb #mason mount concept #mason mount fan fiction #mason mount fanfic #mason mount scenarios #footballer imagines #footballer x y/n #fluff fic

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stellamarielu · 2 days ago

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mr. o'hara

declan o'hara x female reader

summary: in an attempt to play wing woman for your best friend, you end up with the job of distracting her father. your inability to lie and the sexual tension between you has your mouth getting into trouble in more ways than one.

content: nsfw, 18+, best friend's dad smut, mutual pining, age gap, dirty talk, blowjob, praise, thigh riding, fingering, unprotected sex, did i mention dirty talk?

author's note: nothing but 6k words of mutual pining, flirting, sexual tension and smut! I think best friend's dad!declan might just be my favorite thing to write. like taggie girl I am so sorry but I need to fuck your dad.

—————————————————

The night was coming to an end as you joined Taggie in the kitchen. You were helping her clean the massive pile of dishes that had accumulated from an evening of dinner and drinks with the venturer employees.

Declan had somehow ended up hosting the dinner party for his company, filling the priory with music, laughter and loads of alcohol. The celebration of their newfound success was almost completely organized by his eldest daughter.

You insisted on helping Taggie with arranging the event because you knew without Maud, Declan was sure to throw a sad excuse of a party. He was thankful for the two of you and your incessant need to meddle in his life after his wife left. In this case, it meant he wouldn’t have to plan a dinner menu or worry about a guest list, and for that, he was eternally grateful.

“Thank you again, I really couldn’t have done it without you.” Taggie was pulling you into her side as you worked next to her, scrubbing a plate in the sink.

“Oh whatever, I barely did anything. I’m only here for the free food.” You joked, returning her embrace.

The two of you were interrupted by a deep sultry voice gushing from the doorway of the kitchen.

“That’s the only reason I show up to these things as well.”

You didn’t even need to look over your shoulder to know who the voice belonged to.

Rupert Campbell-Black was behind you. Clad in a perfectly fitted black suit and a white button up that was undone just enough to see the smallest bit of chest hair peeking out from underneath. he stood with that signature smirk he always wore plastered on his face.

You could feel Taggie buzzing beside you.

It was endearing how utterly obsessed with each other they were.

You were the only person who knew about their secret romance, and you had to admit it made even you feel like a hopeless romantic. It was nearly impossible not to root for them.

“I thought maybe you could walk me home.” His voice was tender as he took a number of steps forward, one of his hands landing on Taggie’s hip.

“Have you gone insane? Daddy would lose his mind if he found out I just waltzed out of here with you.” Her voice was filled with concern as she swatted his touch from her body.

“Taggie, c’mon. Are we really supposed to follow your dad’s orders for the rest of eternity? Live a little. I’ll deal with ‘daddy’ tomorrow.”

You could see Rupert’s silk voice enveloping Taggie and tempting her deeper into the British man’s desires, but it wasn’t enough.

You knew her well, and a look of worry was still written on her features. She wouldn’t take what she wanted if it meant going against her father’s wishes.

“I’ll keep him distracted.” You spoke up causing both Rupert and Taggie to look to you in surprise.

The truth is you felt bad for them.

Having to tiptoe around Declan all the time had to be exhausting. Not to mention Taggie recently confided in you about her lack of a sex life. Her and Rupert had barely done more than some kissing and heavy petting due to the impossible challenge of getting somewhere alone together.

She longed for him, to know what it felt like to be touched by him. She was your best friend, and you owed it to her to be their wing woman.

“I mean he’s had a few glasses of whiskey, two or three more and I can just sit him in front of the tv. he’ll probably just knock out.” You give the pair a reassuring smile as you divulge your plan to keep the nosey irishman out of their way.

“Are you sure? I-“ Taggie begins before you interrupt her.

“Yes, now go. Sneak out the back.” You’re practically pushing them out of the kitchen catching the apologetic smile Taggie throws your way.

You hear the faint shut of the back door and you allow your body to linger in the kitchen.

standing alone for a few seconds, you soak in the calm. The home is nearly empty. It’s quiet, the only sound is the subtle murmur of music coming from the living room.

You were alone in the house with Declan.

Declan O’Hara; Taggie’s dad and part-time owner of a thriving televison station. Declan O’Hara; a powerful, somewhat mysterious man, that drew your attention more often than you would have liked to admit.

He was so mesmerizing, everything about him intrigued you. Your hidden fascination with him had been impossible to deny from the moment you met him, and it had become quite the guilty pleasure.

You planned to take your little crush on your best friend’s dad to the grave with you, never telling a soul and trying to remain as nonchalant around him as possible. It was always doable– pretending you felt nothing for him. Until his wife left a few months ago.

Ever since then your obsession with him had been kicked into full gear.

He was just so obviously available; it was almost as if you felt the need to fill his loneliness deep within your bones. Seeing how he poured into work to distract himself from solitude or when he would sleep on the couch to avoid the bedroom he once shared with his ex-wife. It was heartbreaking, and a little bit tempting if you were being honest. You wanted to help him and comfort him and maybe even fuck the loneliness right out of him.

You had assured Taggie that you could distract her father, but truthfully you had no idea what your plan was.

It couldn’t be that hard right? Feed him some more alcohol and get him talking about Yeats, you could do this.

You mustered up all the courage you could manage and began your journey into the living room.

Declan was picking up after the guests that had now long departed. Gathering empty glasses and straightening throw pillows. The radio on the mantle was playing a Fleetwood mac song that he could barely recognize yet still found himself humming along to.

In his quiet tidying his silent singing was joined with another, this hum was several octaves higher than his own and so much sweeter.

He turned to find you strolling through the entryway, humming along to the radio and finding a seat on the couch in the middle of the room.

Declan had to fight with himself to keep from looking at your backside as you walked past him. Your dress hugged your figure perfectly, a body he had memorized over months of watching you frolic through his house in short skirts and skintight t-shirts.

You had become quite the temptress in Declan’s mind.

He had always thought you were a beautiful young woman, but you were Taggie’s friend and nothing more. You were polite, easy to talk to, fun to have around– he was never one to mind your presence at family meals or special occasions. In fact he quite enjoyed when his daughter brought you around, he had always felt like you helped brighten their otherwise dim home with your lively personality.

He was entertained by you– amused. However soon after Maud left; casting him aside for a new life in London, his feelings for you shifted to something a little less harmless.

It started when he saw you sunbathing in his front yard.

You were joined by his two daughters, but he didn’t even notice. all he could do was gawk at the image of you sprawled out on a bright red pool towel in nothing but a skimpy bikini.

He had to peel his eyes from your body, reminding himself that you were only a few years older than his eldest daughter, young enough to be one of his children. Before he could rip his gaze from your bare skin, your eyes met his.

“Mr. O’Hara!” you were sat up waving in his direction, your chest bouncing ever so slightly with the movement and of course his eyes caught it.

He cursed himself at the strain in his jeans that only tightened upon hearing you call him that. Mr. O’Hara, it made you sound so innocent– so good-natured. The opposite of how Declan viewed you in that very moment, nearly naked on his front lawn.

“Wanna join us? They say Vitamin D is good for your mental health. You know, boosting your mood and all that.” You were half yelling to ensure that he could hear you, a broad grin on your face.

Declan had never realized how cute your smile was.

“I think I’ll have to pass on the invitation today.” He kept his voice pleasant and warm, speaking to you like he would his own children.

“If you girls need me, I’ll be inside.”

And with that Declan rushed to the kitchen to fix himself a glass of brandy, hoping to chase away the image of him pulling the tiny swimsuit off your body and fucking you into that cute little pool towel.

“I didn’t picture you as a Fleetwood Mac fan Mr. O’Hara.” Your voice was sugary and playful in his ears, bringing him back to the present where you were sat on his living room couch.

“British rock band with a dicey love triangle, what’s not to like?” His own deep voice was now matching the playful tone in yours.

“And I’ve told you a hundred times to call me Declan.” He continued cleaning up the room, trying his best to act as if he wasn’t phased by your presence.

“Did you abandon my daughter in the kitchen to come have a chat with me about Stevie Nicks?” He was joking with you, but the question about Taggie made you nervous.

You had never been a good liar.

“No we uh, finished the dishes. I just wanted to come see if you needed help with anything.” You were trying to keep your composure and act as natural as possible.

You were not doing a good job. Not one bit.

Maybe it was the tone of your voice or the way you stumbled over your words, but Declan was privy to your strange behavior. He stopped what he was doing and turned his body to face yours, brows furrowed.

“Why are ya actin’ weird?”

The question was filled with curiosity- hardly accusatory, but you felt your palms begin to sweat.

“I’m not acting weird.” You countered, sitting up straight.

Declan’s eyes squinted at you in question.

“Tag!” He yelled toward the kitchen but kept his stare on you.

“Taggie!” This time his yell was much louder, and you winced at the upcoming interrogation you were sure to receive.

Declan slowly closed his eyes and drew in a deep breath.

“Where’s Tag?”

With his eyes still closed you could tell Declan was trying to remain relaxed, but you had a feeling he knew exactly where his daughter was.

“She went to walk Rupert home.” The words flew out of your mouth in one quiet stream.

Declan let out an aggressively loud sigh. his eyes finally opening to meet yours, the anger palpable in the deep brown of his iris’.

“Are you fucking kidding me? I can’t fucking trust either of them.”

He was doing his best not to yell but his voice was pushing out strong and harsh. His hands were in the air motioning in rage, still holding onto half full glasses left behind by party goers.

“I can’t fucking stand Rupert, he knows exactly how I feel about this! I’m going down there.”

And now he was yelling.

He shoved the glasses in his hands onto the coffee table, creating another mess out of the already dirty cups. The clinking and crashing sounds only accentuating the anger exuding from him.

Just as he was turning to leave the room you jumped up off the sofa, rushing to grab his forearm.

“Declan don’t.”

your eyes were pleading with him, he had never seen you look so desperate. It stopped him in his tracks seeing you gaze at him like that.

Why was it turning him on?

“She’s an adult. Let her make her own decisions.” Your grip on his arm was still tight, you weren’t going to let him ruin this for Taggie.

“Yeah, and he’s an adult too. almost twice her age. He shouldn’t be interested in gettin’ her alone.”

He wasn’t yelling anymore, and he also wasn’t fighting your effort to keep him from leaving the room.

“It’s really not that big of a deal.” Your voice was calm and quiet in an attempt to deescalate the situation.

“Well of course you would think that.”

Declan practically spit the words out, but you could tell by the wince in his eyes that he wished he hadn’t.

“and why do you say that?” You challenged, taken aback by his comment.

You were searching your brain for the reason behind Declan’s accusation when it hit you. He had to be referring to the time you hooked up with Basil Baddington. Only you never actually hooked up with him. The two of you madeout in his parked car outside of bar sinister one time and the next day there was a nasty rumor going around that you got caught giving basil head in his brand new 86 corvette.

You could distinctly remember later that week Declan asked if you were seeing Bas.

He never mentioned the alleged sexual act or the other heinous things people were saying about the two of you, he just asked if you were dating.

It was such a harmless and casual question, one that you answered confidently, assuring him there was absolutely nothing going on between you. “Good he’s a prick and way too old for you” was Declan’s short and sweet response.

“Oh last summer. With Bas?” You were grinning now. Almost amused that Declan was comparing your two-week fling with a man barely 10 years older than you to his daughter’s love affair with a retired Olympian.

“First of all, he’s not even that much older than me. And second, you of all people should know nothing even happened between us. We made out and I barely felt him up through his jeans, nothing past a PG-13 rating.” You were almost laughing at the memory.

Declan felt a pang of jealousy in his chest at the mention of the younger man’s name on your lips.

“He isn’t my type anyway.” The words tumble from your mouth and you see Declan’s eyes fully soften. His gaze intently watching you.

“Even if I am a bad influence, at least Taggie won’t be getting caught giving someone a blowjob in a tiny pretentious sports car.”

There’s a giggle in your voice and Declan closes his eyes once again, shaking his head at your words.

“Please don’t say my daughter’s name and the word blowjob in the same sentence.” He’s rubbing his temple, and you let your hold on his arm relax.

“Oh come on! It’s just sex. Blowjobs are a perfectly normal part of life.” Your sentiment is serious but there’s still a teasing tone in your voice.

Declan can’t handle hearing such dirty things come out of your mouth.

You talking about sex was not something he had on this evening’s agenda. He didn’t think he could handle much more before he would need to excuse himself to his bedroom to relieve the tension building in his pants. Imagining it’s your lips wrapped around his cock, with the sound of your voice still echoing in his head.

You watched with a coy smile on your face as Declan’s cheeks displayed a slight hue of pink. He was looking everywhere but your eyes and it was fun to see him so flustered.

Your hand still lingered on his arm, and you realized you’d never touched him before. You had imagined it many, many times, although, those scenarios were often much raunchier– involving your hand holding something that definitely wasn’t his arm. You had fantasized about touching Declan, feeling the warmth of his skin on yours. Your heart rate quickened when you remembered the two of you were alone.

Something about your current position coupled with the idea that it was just the two of you on your own in this big house, had you behaving in a way you barely recognized. Possessed by a craving that could only be satisfied by the man at the other end of your touch.

“When was the last time you had a woman on her knees for you?” The question left your lips quietly- a soft and smooth whisper.

His eyes are on yours quick, but you can’t read his expression. He’s staring you down, not even attempting to open his mouth to give you an answer to your question.

“I mean it’s had to of been months. I’m around enough to know you haven’t seen anyone since maud left and I-“ Your continuing your cross-examination when Declan’s harsh accent interrupts you.

“Years.”

The one word is all he says.

It takes you a minute to understand, but once you do you have to try your best to keep the shock from showing on your face.

“Years Declan?” the surprise in your voice is unmistakable.

“It’s been years since the last time someone gave you a blowjob?”

Declan just raises his eyebrows at you in defeat. There’s a hint of embarrassment in his eyes and it makes you feel sick to your stomach.

“Maud wasn’t much of a giver.” He shrugs.

“Lucky for her I was.” You’re glad to see the playful glimmer in his gaze as he jokes about his ex-wife.

Declan’s words insinuate that him and Maud’s intimacy completely revolved around her pleasure.

What a selfish bitch. You think to yourself.

You had never liked Maud. The way she treated her family made you irrationally angry and this was just adding fuel to the fire.

“That’s not fair.” Your voice is faint.

If it wasn’t for the way your eyes were staring into his, Declan would have sworn you were talking to yourself.

“You deserve to feel good.” This time you open your mouth, and the words sound almost like a purr.

Declan can feel his eyelids growing heavy with lust and he can’t stop himself from watching as you take your bottom lip between your teeth.

You’re biting down on the pillowy flesh and all he wants to do is replace your teeth with his, gently nipping at your skin and finally getting a taste of those pretty pink lips.

You see Declan’s gaze fall to your lips and something in you snaps. It’s almost like you’ve lost all logical thought and replaced it with feral desire as you sink down onto your knees for the man in front of you.

Declan’s voice gets stuck in his throat as he whispers your name causing it to come out in a husky groan.

He’s completely lost in his head right now. He can’t focus on a single thing, only you kneeling beneath him.

“What are you doin’?” He finally comes to his senses enough to string a sentence together.

“Giving you what you deserve.” You state sweetly.

He shakes his head in disagreeance but can’t form the words on his tongue to tell you to stop.

“This is wrong.” He says it but he’s making absolutely no effort to get you off your knees.

“Let me do this for you Mr. O’Hara” You look up at him, doing your best to keep your gaze wide-eyed and innocent. Your fingertips toying with his belt buckle.

Seeing you looking up at him through your lashes like that, using his surname in such a sensual tone– he would let you do anything you wanted to him. He had never had a woman so ready to give to him like this. You were practically salivating, so hungry and greedy to have him in your mouth, it was like something out of a wet dream.

“Yeah, Okay.” He gives into your joint desire with a whisper of two simple words.

The satisfied smirk on your lips as you hear him agree to the lewd act has him going weak in the knees.

He’s mentally searching his surroundings for a stable piece of furniture to grip as you undo his belt with your nimble hands.

If you keep acting so desperate to have your lips around his cock he won’t be able to stand on his own two feet.

You take your time with his belt, pulling it from the loops on his waist one by one until it finally hits the floor.

You’re staring at the tent in his dress pants, seeing how hard he is in anticipation. The evidence of his arousal has you wet between your legs and you can’t help but lift your hand to get a feel of him through his pants.

Your touch on him is soft but the second he feels your hand meet his concealed erection he’s sucking in a deep breath, eyes fluttering shut in shameful desire.

You move your fingertips to the button of his pants, popping it open and trailing his zipper down at a painfully slow pace.

Declan was doing his best to remain calm but you could hear his erratic breathing with every movement of your body beneath him.

His hands were hanging at his sides and you desperately wanted them tangled in your hair or around your neck.

You had his underwear hooked in your grip ready to slip them, along with his pants, down to his ankles.

You looked up at him once more only to see his eyes still closed.

He wanted to look at you, to see you inches away from his cock, but he couldn’t. There was no way in hell he could stand to watch you taking his clothes off, looking at him with those pretty eyes. He would cum in his pants right away.

He was focusing on steadying his breath as you pulled his boxers and slacks down his thighs, allowing his agonizingly hard member freedom from its constraints.

You were now face to face with a part of Declan you thought you would only see in your dreams. You bit down on your lip again at the sight of him, bigger and even more alluring than you had imagined it to be.

You trail your fingertips up his thigh earning a groan from the man above you.

Very gently taking his length in your hand you pump him once, then twice, wondering how on earth anyone could neglect this man of such pleasure for so long.

It was a crime, you thought– to sleep next to Declan O’Hara every night and never give him this type of gratification.

You leaned in to place a handful of soft kisses to his lower abdomen in a path to where he wanted your mouth most.

A quiet groan left his mouth when your lips met the base of his cock, your tongue coming into play as you traced up the length of his shaft with one long kitten lick, kissing the precum off his leaking tip.

Taking just the head of him through the threshold of your lips you decide to look up again, hoping to see a state of bliss taking over his features.

You take him deeper into your mouth and peer up at him. His stare is completely fixated on you, his mouth parted in pleasure.

When his eyes catch yours it’s game over, he doesn’t care that you’re his daughter’s best friend or that you’re nearly 20 years younger than him. The only thing he can think of is the feeling of your sweet mouth around his cock and how utterly gorgeous you look taking him like this.

“Fuck darlin’.” He’s moaning out as you slide him deeper past your lips.

You moan back when his hands find your hair, intertwining his fingers in it gently, careful not to grip or pull too hard.

You wouldn’t mind though.

You had imagined fucking Declan multiple times in multiple different scenarios. Many of those visions involved his rough hands gripping your neck, slapping your ass, and pulling your hair.

You needed him in every way possible and you wanted him to know he could use you however he pleased.

You kept a slow pace as you continuously enveloped him in the warmth of your mouth. In and out.

The attention of your lips is on the head of his cock when you bring a hand up to wrap around the rest of him, your mouth and fingers working together. You feel his body shutter and for a second you think he might lose his balance.

“Christ that’s good.” His voice falls on your ears in a throaty moan.

“So good for me like that darlin’.”

His words are driving you to a place of overwhelming carnality.

In that moment you felt as though your one and only purpose in life was to be on your knees for Declan O’Hara. You were determined to show him exactly what he’d been missing all those years.

“Touch yourself.” His voice is no longer a moan, instead it’s strong and stern.

You pause your movements for just a second to process his command.

Here you sat thinking you were the one with all the filthy thoughts, but Declan’s brain must have been equally as corrupt.

He was asking to see you touch yourself for him– to see you get off with his dick in your mouth.

And it just might have been the hottest thing anyone had ever said to you.

Without so much as a second thought, you were hiking your already short dress further up your thighs until you were able to easily reach underneath. Slipping the silk material of your underwear to the side, your index finger found your clit circling it lazily as you continued to focus on Declan’s pleasure.

“Good girl.” Declan praised and you could hear the faint smirk in his voice.

He had wanted to call you that earlier in the night when he watched you bend over his dining room table. Helping to clear dirty dishes, leaning over to grab a plate with your short dress riding up far enough to send Declan into cardiac arrest. You were just trying to help, to be a good girl, so sweet and innocent not even realizing how dirty you really were.

The sight in front of him now was far more arousing. You bowing in front of him, immersed in his gratification with your own hand hiding between your legs. He didn’t want to admit how close he was at the sight alone. That’s not even to mention how good it felt.

It had been so long since anyone touched him like this, it was a near out of body experience. The hug of your wet lips mixed with the smooth strokes of your hand had profanities dripping from his tongue.

With every sound that slipped from Declan’s lips your fingers worked faster at the growing pleasure between your legs. Your pace quickened on Declan as well and you immediately felt his grasp on your hair tighten.

He was dangerously close to spilling into your mouth. He was trying to pay attention to his breathing and steady his mind.

He wanted so badly for this feeling to last forever but the fire within him was all consuming and he knew he had to stop you soon or the fun would be over before it had even begun.

He uses his hold in your hair to guide you off of him. Your hand is still buried underneath your dress and your hair messy from his hands. Your lips are plump and you have the cutest look of confusion and frustration on your face. Declan almost pushed you right back onto him at the look in your eyes, but he refrained.

“Stand up.” He was enjoying ordering you around more than he could have ever anticipated.

You stood slightly irritated. How rude of him to not let you finish the job you were working so beautifully at.

You had barely any time to be disappointed because as soon as you’re on your feet Declan is pulling you into a frenzied kiss.

It’s frantic, it’s turbulent, it’s sloppy. the kiss is raw and impassioned and you’re both lost in each other’s taste.

He broke the newfound connection of lips to reach under the hem of your dress. Finding the thin material of your panties and yanking them down your legs freeing your body of the wet and ruined clothing.

With his lips back on yours, he took a few steps backward brining you with him.

Once his body finds the living room couch, he’s sat, drawing you onto his lap.

You were falling onto him straddling one of his thighs as you continued assaulting his mouth with your own. You enjoyed the slight dominance you held in this position.

His kiss found its way to your exposed neck placing the most delicious wet touches on your skin.

You felt his hands grab your waist on either side pulling your body down to sit completely on his bare thigh. Your exposed core met the pure muscle of Declan’s leg and you both made equally lewd sounds of delight.

“Tell me,” Declan begins to speak but his voice is strained in excitement at the feeling of your wet cunt against his thigh.

“do you walk around my house in those tiny little’ skirts just to torture me.”

He’s smirking at you as he uses his hold on your hips to guide you, pulling you back and forth against him.

You’re in a trance at the delicious friction of him beneath you, all you can do is nod your head at his words, that innocent expression still in your eyes.

He’s going to go insane if you keep looking at him like that.

Your following his lead and grinding against his thigh shamelessly.

Declan’s using the dress that’s now bunched at your waist as leverage, griping at the material to influence your movements.

His eyes fall between the two of you, watching you use yourself on him. You’re letting sighs and whimpers fall from your mouth as your arousal slides continuously over the thickest part of his leg.

You catch his cock twitch out of the corner of your eye and all you want to do is maneuver your body so your sitting on it instead of his thigh.

You reach down, wrapping your hand around his member once again.

“Declan, please.”

Your begging to be on his cock at this point.

He can’t deny how much he loves hearing you beg for him. He’s ready to pull you down onto his length the second he hears your eager little whimper.

“Never knew you’d be so needy darlin’.”

He’s using his hold on your hips to lift you enough for you to subtly switch positions. You’re now straddling his entire lap, your center only inches away from meeting his.

“Would’ve done this a long time ago.”

His voice is raspy as he brings his hand between your legs.

Declan’s pointer finger finds your entrance and eases it’s way inside of you, causing a moan to spill from your throat.

“Declan…” His name falls from your lips, but he could tell his fingers weren’t what you wanted filling you.

“Beg for it.” He whispers between you, smiling like a pussy-drunk idiot.

His finger is curling into your walls hitting just the right spot, but you want his cock stretching you out and filling you up.

“Please” You’re asking him in the sweetest tone you can muster.

You still have a slight hold of his length, and you begin stroking it at a painfully slow pace.

“God I want this so badly.” Your confession is breathless.

“I think about it all of the time.” You continue making sure to give him your best doe-eyes.

That was it, he couldn’t take it anymore. You were too sweet, too perfect. He had been obsessed with you for months; watching you, thinking about you. He didn’t give a fuck how wrong it was– he needed you.

In an instant his fingers were gone from your core and his hold was back on your hips, sinking you down onto him.

You could feel his tip meeting your opening and you whined out in anticipation. The noise causing Declan to thrust into you, filling you with one deep push. You had to bite down on your lip to keep from squealing from the stinging pleasure.

He waited a moment, allowing you to adjust to his size and giving himself a second to steady his breath.

“This,” He spoke in a grunt as he fucked up into you again.

“Is all I think about every time I see you in my house.”

His voice is spreading warmth through your body as his thrusts ignite a fire in your abdomen.

“You don’t even have to try. You’re just always so enticing.” The words coming from his mouth are intoxicating.

You’re swimming in a pool of ecstasy at his confessions.

“I can’t get enough.” He’s panting as his thrusts pick up their pace.

You’re grinding down onto him meeting each of his thrusts with a wet squelch, taking him deeper with each movement. The way he’s stretching you open has you clenching around him.

You lock your hands behind his neck leaning on his shoulders for some kind of control as you feel your body beginning to go limp.

The pressure building in you is almost too much to bear and it becomes even more difficult when Declan meets your exposed chest with open mouthed kisses. He’s licking and sucking at your skin greedily, causing your head to fall to the side in pleasure.

“So pretty.” Declan is murmuring into your skin.

Your movements mixed with his are perfectly timed and hitting just the perfect spot.

Maybe it’s the fact that you were already soaked long before you had his dick in your mouth, or maybe it was because you had been dreaming of this exact moment for a long time– either way, you were close. Really close. Your walls were desperately squeezing Declan’s cock as it slid in and out of you, your chest heaving under his kisses.

“C’mon darlin’.”

It’s Declan’s turn to look up at you through his lashes and the sight has you going feral. The tightening in your core finally letting loose.

“Let go for me.”

With his words you’re a whimpering, moaning mess. Your movements halt and your body tenses as you push through your release.

Your pulsating embrace around him has Declan following your lead.

He’s holding your hips in place and bucking into you at a fierce pace. Plunging deep, fucking you right through your orgasm. It’s taking everything in you not to scream out in blinding pleasure.

Then he grows sloppy as he lets his own release take over him.

He finishes with a string of moans that sound like music to your ears, and you think you might cum again just from the noises he’s making as he comes undone.

You’re sat on him, both of you catching your breath, your eyes are locked on one another. Neither of you can look away.

There was a shared energy between you. Maybe guilt or shame– or perhaps triumph.

You couldn’t help but remember the reason you were in this position in the first place.

Taggie.

She would be so disappointed in you but even more upset with her father if she knew what just took place.

She couldn’t be too angry though. You did exactly what you said you’d do– distract him.

Watching the man sitting beneath you struggling to steady his breath was a sign that you had done a pretty good job at your task of helping Taggie escape for the night.

You could only hope she’d had half as much fun as you did.

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#i’m obsessed with this man send help #declan o'hara #declan o'hara x reader #declan o’hara smut #rivals fanfiction #rivals #rivals x reader #rupert campbell black #aidan turner #taggie o’hara #best friends dad #bfd smut #dilf x reader #dilf smut #age gap smut #praise k!nk

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inthedayswhenlandswerefew · 1 day ago

Text

Cannibals [Chapter 9: Blue Jays and Red-Tailed Hawks]

A/N: Thank you so much for your patience! Life got hectic but I am back, besties. Only 1 chapter left!!! 🥳❤️💙🦇

Series summary: You are his sister, his lover, his betrothed despite everyone else’s protests; you have always belonged to Aemond and believe you always will. But on the night he returns from Storm’s End with horrifying news, the trajectories of your lives are irrevocably changed. Will the war of succession make your bond permanent, or destroy the twisted and fanatical love you share?

Chapter warnings: Language, mentions of sexual content (18+ readers only), blood and violence and warfare, character deaths, chaotic giant lizards.

Word count: 5.5k

💙 All my writing can be found HERE! ❤️

Tagging: @themoonofthesun @chattylurker @moonfllowerr @ecstaticactus @mrs-starkgaryen, more in comments 🥰

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He reaches for his game piece, the shadowcat, although it isn’t purple but only a plain, crudely-carved chunk of oak wood, a makeshift imitation of its twin back in the Red Keep, assuming that Rhaenyra hasn’t stumbled upon and destroyed it. Daeron has sculpted the beast himself; he used a dagger that Aemond gave him as a gift before he was sent away to Oldtown, its hilt embellished with dark blue stones the color of Tessarion’s scales. He has made dice and a board too, and the other four pieces, homely little animals, proxies of his long-lost siblings. Daeron wonders if they miss him as much as he has always missed them. None of them ever said that in their letters, not in words so explicit. Aegon never really wrote at all; instead, he would scrawl barely-legible postscripts at the bottom of other people’s letters: Don’t drink too much, Learn some High Valyrian, Try not to get anyone pregnant.

“I am always the shadowcat,” Daeron explains, grinning. He shows the talisman to his companions, four soldiers fighting in the Hightower army, his closest friends. Then he places it at the starting line he has etched into the board.

“Why do you get the best one?” says Anthony of House Ambrose.

Daeron blinks. This has never occurred to him before. “Is the shadowcat the best piece?”

“Obviously.”

“I don’t know,” teases Josiah of House Roxton of the Ring, scratching his beard. “That butterfly is mighty fearsome.”

Now they’re all laughing. “Then you shall have the butterfly,” Daeron proclaims, handing it to Josiah. “That was my gentle sister Helaena’s piece. And you will never be as good as her, not if you pray to the Seven for a thousand years.”

“No,” Josiah agrees somberly, bowing his head in the firelight. It is just after dusk, and even here in the south, even within the cloth walls of the tent, the metallic chill of winter is creeping into every room like a vermin, like a spider or a rat.

“And Anthony, because you are clever yet envious and ever-grasping, I bequeath you Aemond’s wolf.” Daeron drops it into his open, calloused palm.

“I hope he doesn’t come looking for it,” Anthony chuckles. “I’m quite skilled with the sword, but I would be loath to meet the prince in combat.”

“I don’t want the worm,” slurs Oliver of House Fossoway of Cider Hall. Oli is quite drunk.

“It’s a snake, you idiot,” Josiah says.

“And it’s yours, Oli.” Daeron gives the tiny wooden snake to him. Oli accepts it reluctantly. “The snake was Aegon’s piece.”

“Long live the king!” Oli bellows with sudden fervor, and raises his cup of ale. Everyone toasts to the king’s health.

“Wherever he may be,” Daeron says before draining his cup and sweeping his silver hair out of his eyes, blue like a Targaryen’s, large and expressive like Mother’s. He feels that Aegon is still alive somewhere. He believes that if his eldest brother was dead, he would know it in his bones; there would be invisible, unbearable wounds like the ones that opened up when Helaena and Dreamfyre fell from the sky, days before Daeron received a raven carrying the news.

“What about my game piece?” asks Laurence of House Redwyne of the Arbor. He is a bowman and a healer as well, adept at herbal remedies and stitching. He would have preferred to be a maester or a septon, but as his parents’ only son he was compelled to endure the life of a lord. A squire arrives, refills all the cups with ale, departs with a swift bow.

“You are a Redwyne, and so you shall have Red’s bat,” Daeron says, entrusting the inanimate beast to Laurence. They know who he is talking about; they have heard more fireside stories of Daeron’s siblings than they could count. “And you are nothing like her. You are pious and poised, and you have never made your parents blush with shame. My Mother would have loved to have you for a son.”

“I’ll take your place,” Laurence says mildly, smiling. “You can be my parents’ dashing warrior, and I can accompany Queen Alicent when she prays in the sept.”

Daeron rolls first. He reads the dice and moves his shadowcat forward seven spaces. His brow knits together with determination. “I’m not leaving my mother there.”

“What? In the city?” Anthony asks, startled but not opposed. He is not one to shy away from battle. He believes that is where men find glory, where they ascend from mortals to something more, legends, heroes, gods.

Josiah snickers. “Not going to wait for Prince Aemond’s permission, huh?”

“The people of King’s Landing are in rebellion,” Daeron says, firelight flickering on his face. “Rhaenyra is desperate, and she is grieving Jace’s death, and she has my mother, Jaehaera, and Maelor in her grasp. What if Rhaenyra flees the city on Syrax and evades punishment for her treason? What if she executes my family, or if they are killed somehow when mobs overrun the Red Keep? I will not wait idly. Tessarion and I will recapture King’s Landing for the Greens.”

Oli raises his cup of ale again. “And we will fight with you!”

All five men toast, drink deeply, resume the game. Daeron wins; he has always been lucky.

~~~~~~~~~~

You stumble upstairs together, you supporting Aegon’s weight as best you can, tripping on the stone steps as lightning flashes outside the windows. Rain pours in sheets, wind howls through the cracked walls of the castle, and for a moment you think you are back at Heart’s Home, and that at the top of the tower you will find Luca waiting for you, safe and without pain and grinning his toothless little smile at you over Jace’s shoulder. Then—through the wine, through the torchlight and the thunder—you remember, and you feel the loss of them all over again, and when your knees buckle on the staircase Aegon drags you to your feet. You can sense that Alys Rivers is following you both, sweeping near-silently in her mossy green gown, peering fixedly with those strange silvery eyes like mirrors, haunting doorways and corridors. When you look back you catch glimpses of her, deformed shadows with long white fingers like the skeleton of a bat.

“I’m not a man anymore,” Aegon is blubbering as he collapses into his bed. His half-unbuttoned shirt is damp with spilled cider; tears gleam on his disfigured face.

“Shh, yes you are,” you soothe, lying down beside him. You rest a palm on his chest, gnarled grotesque scar tissue the color of a flayed man. Hazily, you think of the Bolton soldiers who must have marched south with Cregan Stark, and you wonder if when they sharpen their knives they are thinking of Aegon, or Daeron, or Aemond, or Mother, or maybe even you.

“I used to be,” Aegon sobs. “Now I’m just a useless, mutilated, flaccid freak.”

You burrow into him, drunk and drowsy. “Whatever you are, I’m glad you’re still alive.”

Aegon slings a scarred arm over your shoulder. Your ribs throb, your skull aches. “I used to love whoring,” he says miserably.

“The sport is not lost to you entirely. A working cock is not required to satisfy a woman.”

He laughs. “No, I suppose you’re right.”

“Perhaps you will recover. Perhaps you will find new ways to experience pleasure.”

“Perhaps,” Aegon agrees in a soft murmur, and then he dozes off.

And as the room spirals around you and thunder booms outside, you are carried back to other times and places, fleeting visions like the windows you once peered through into Aemond’s mind. You are a child being shoved into a wooden trunk and entombed there. You are tapping your little red bat around the game board. You are under the arbor grown over with roses and thorns, sunlight bleeding through the leaves in golden trickles. You are watching blue jays flit through a blue sky and bathe in the water of the fountains. You are playing with Jaehaerys, Jaehaera, and Maelor, building fortresses of stones and sticks, collecting seashells with them on the beach. You are catching your bats when they soar in through the open window to land in your palms. You are watching Aemond ride back from hunting with one of his red-tailed hawks still perched on his glove. You are feeling your mattress shift beneath his weight, his hand on your thigh, his teeth on your neck; you hear a reverent whisper of High Valyrian. And then you hear the blistering shrieks of all the people he has killed, and you are reminded of Mother’s words about what you once shared with him: It’s strange, and violent, and obsessive and profane and…and…unnatural.

Was she right? She must have been. All it has led to is suffering.

If I had never loved Aemond, Luca and Jace would still be alive. If I had married some ordinary nobleman like Mother and Grandsire always wanted—his bloodline an inheritance from the Andals or the First Men, not the treacherous smoldering embers of Old Valyria—my children would be safe, and Helaena never would have tried to escape King’s Landing, and Aemond would have wed a Baratheon girl and perhaps accepted Lord Borros’ offer of dinner and rest that night in Storm’s End, and maybe Luke wouldn’t have been killed over Shipbreaker Bay, and there is a chance the war would never have happened at all.

But you didn’t listen to Mother and Grandsire, because you have never been tame, gentle, dutiful, ladylike. Jace saw this clearly; you were hungry.

You don’t fall sleep until dawn, and when you wake it is night again. The maids bring food, bread and butter and stew thick with fish and crab, but neither you or Aegon want it. You are marooned here together, not useful like Aemond or Daeron, not holy like Helaena, and the only remedy is cider that flows like molten gold, heat that burns in your throat like the fire of a dragon.

Now there is bleak grey midday light streaming in through the windows, and Aegon is screaming downstairs. You sit up, startled and bleary-eyed, your tangled silver hair strewn carelessly all around you. Alys is standing beside the bed. You yelp in alarm when you see her.

“A raven has arrived,” Alys says tonelessly. She has a red ribbon laced through her moon-white fingers and is toying with it.

“What? Why are you in here…?”

“I think it’s bad news.” Then she floats to the doorway and turns back to make sure you’re following, her hand with the ribbon resting on her rounded belly.

At the bottom of the staircase, Aegon is writhing on the stone floor, a piece of parchment—doubtlessly sent by one of his loyalists on the mainland, one of the very few who know where he is now, perhaps somebody at Rook’s Rest or Crackclaw Point—crumpled in his fist. Several maids are trying futilely to comfort him. You take the letter from Aegon so you can read it.

What is written there in black ink is a tale of triumph and ruin. Under the cover of darkness the Hightower army marched on King’s Landing, and the smallfolk rose up to join them when the soldiers breached the city walls, and the capital has been retaken by the Greens and Mother freed from her cell. Ulf the White was found drunk and senseless, and promptly murdered. Silverwing fled from the Dragonpit in the midst of the chaos. Daeron and Tessarion flew directly to the Red Keep and attacked Syrax where she had been kept in the courtyard, killing the dragon and thus destroying Rhaenyra’s chance to escape. The woman the Blacks call queen was captured and imprisoned, and the men of her council executed; but not before her bowmen shot Daeron through the chest and throat and he tumbled from the saddle and died alone, bleeding to death within the castle walls he once called home. Tessarion screeched in grief and would not leave his body, incinerating the archers when they dared to shoot at her next.

It’s in your pounding skull, a memory that fills your vision, harsh and luminous like lightning: Daeron as a child moving his little purple shadowcat around the board, how the rest of you packed up the game and never played again after he was sent to Oldtown.

“He was supposed to wait for Aemond,” Aegon is sobbing. “He wasn’t supposed to try to retake the city alone, he knew that, he was just a kid…”

You see Daeron falling from the sky, riddled with arrows and stained red with blood. You see Helaena and Dreamfyre plummeting down towards the beach where you once played with her children. And then you see Aemond plunging into the Gods Eye and being swallowed up by cold dark currents, sinking to the floor of the lake, dissolving into silt, disappearing from history.

I love him, you realize, an abrupt and agonizing laceration down to the bone. I might hate him, but I love him too. And hasn’t it always been that way?

You feel the heat of blood drawn on your cheek, taste the iron and copper of it on Aemond’s lips. Your skull aches, always on the left side.

“Why are we the ones still alive?!” Aegon wails at you. “You and me and Aemond were the monsters. But Helaena and Daeron, they were good, they were pure, they deserved to be here when the war is over!”

“It’s not over yet,” Alys says ominously.

“Go away, witch,” Aegon moans, covering his face with his hands. “Go away, go away, go away…”

Outside where soft rain is falling—you can see droplets on the windows and endless opaque fog—you hear the distant snarl of a dragon. And you have the overwhelming sensation that you are being called to.

Above the Gods Eye, the red and the blue, Alys had said. Aemond was blue…but who was red? Caraxes, Daemon, me?

The dragon growls again, not Sunfyre or Grey Ghost or Vermithor the Bronze Fury but the Cannibal, never ridden, never tamed, always hungry. Alys Rivers is holding something out to you. It is the red ribbon.

“He flies to his death,” she says levelly. “Unless you are there to catch him.”

Luca and Jace are gone. Helaena and Daeron are gone. Jaehaerys and Grandsire are gone. But I don’t have to lose Aemond too.

You take the ribbon and swiftly weave your hair into an untidy braid, then tie it off at the end with the strip of red. It is the first color besides black you have worn since you left Heart’s Home. Then you pad towards the castle entranceway in your bare feet.

Aegon is sniffling as the maids try to console him. He peers up at you from where he is still collapsed on the floor, a heap of marred skin and weak bones. “Where are you going?”

In answer, the Cannibal roars outside, immense and gravelly and malevolent.

Aegon says again, frantic now: “Red, where are you going?”

“To claim a dragon.”

“You can’t,” he says, stunned, petrified. “They all refused you.”

“I’m a different person now.”

“No!” he shouts as you turn to leave, lunging and wrapping his arms around your legs, trying to keep you here. “Please don’t go. Please stay. I don’t want to lose you too.”

Tenderly, you touch his tangled locks of silver hair, his mutilated cheek, his slumped shoulder. “If I don’t go, you might lose all of us.”

“It’s suicide. The Cannibal can’t be ridden.”

“But I know what he craves,” you say, and from across the room Alys smiles at you, her pale eyes glinting and her hands stroking the small globe of her belly. “And I want the same thing.”

You pull away from Aegon and escape into the mist, the rain, the cold wind and sea spray that burns in your lungs. He hobbles after you with his walking stick, pleading for you to stop, but he is too slow to catch up. Behind Aegon, Alys trails at a distance, meandering over the rocks. The magma trapped beneath the surface of the island flows like scorching blood through the arteries of the earth; the heat radiates up through the soles of your feet. The marrow glows hot and red in your bones.

You follow the Cannibal’s grunts and snarls and find him down by the water, a shore of jagged volcanic rocks and no sand, volcanic glass, fury hardened and cooled. But yours is still fresh. The Cannibal is feasting on the corpse of Grey Ghost. Gore hangs in crimson shreds from his craggy teeth; he has too many of them, they grow in rows like a shark’s. Frothing seawater laps at his claws. He raises his massive head—black scales and barbed spines, mindless primordial eyes green and luminous—and growls, steam rising from his flaring nostrils.

Fear strikes you, sharp and sudden. Your hands and knees are trembling.

“Let’s go back to the castle!” Aegon yells over the sounds of the sea and the gales of wind.

But you can’t stop now. The Cannibal called and you answered. And here, nineteen years late, you will have the dragon you were denied from birth.

You speak in High Valyrian as the wind gusts and rakes, your black mourning gown billowing, strands of silver hair ripped from your braid. “You hate your kind,” you say to the Cannibal, showing him the empty palms of your hand as you approach, cutting your bare feet on the rocks; and he watches you, eyes blazing, fangs revealed. “And I do too. I hate Rhaenyra for ordering the deaths of Helaena and Daeron and Grandsire. I hate Daemon for sending assassins into my home to murder Jaehaerys. I hate Aemond for killing Luca and Jace. And I hate myself for not being able to stop any of it.”

The Cannibal roars and his jaws open wide, revealing a gaping blood-red throat. From deep within him, lethal flames are building.

“I told you!” Aegon is shouting. “He can’t be tamed, get away from him! Red, come back, please don’t die, please!”

“I was weak!” you scream at the Cannibal in High Valyrian, stumbling over the rocks as you move closer. You bare your teeth at him like you did to Jace the night Rhaenyra took King’s Landing. “I was useless without you. I tried to forget my inheritance as a Targaryen, but it found me. It found me in the Vale, it found me as my son died in my arms. I cannot be gentle and toothless. I can only be the blood of the dragon.”

The Cannibal snaps his jaws shut and stills, his green eyes alight and fixed on you. Aegon and Alys say nothing; perhaps they are afraid to break the spell. You reach out and press your hand to the Cannibal’s muzzle; it comes away covered with Grey Ghost’s blood. You drag your tongue up the length of your palm and drink it. Dragon blood tastes like metal and smoke and the verdant rot of a swamp. The Cannibal growls from low in his enormous chest, but now his radiant eyes are curious.

“Help me kill Daemon and Caraxes,” you say as the wind howls and raindrops run in rivulets down your face. You place both hands on the Cannibal’s bloodied muzzle now. “You’ll kill your kind and I’ll kill mine. Together we will consume them. And I swear to you, my hatred burns every bit as hot as yours.”

You show the Cannibal, picturing it in your mind and knowing he can see: Aemond confessing that he murdered Luke, blood spurting when Jaehaerys was decapitated, Helaena and Dreamfyre crashing down to the beach outside the Red Keep, Jace lying dead in a crumbling stairwell, Luca’s blanket spotted with scarlet and his cries going silent, Daeron pierced with arrows, Aemond disintegrating in the depths of the Gods Eye if you cannot save him.

“I have all this hatred and no way to satisfy it. Let’s fly. Let’s devour.”

The Cannibal wears no saddle and never has. He is wild, and even now you will never own him. What you share will aways be a fight, a push and a pull like the tides, brutal and beloved, but isn’t that how you like it? You move to his side, wading in the shallow water on the shoreline, and hook your fingers around the spines that jut out of his thorax like thorns. His scales gleam like obsidian; he snorts tendrils of searing steam. He does nothing to help you, not stooping lower to the ground, not nudging you along with his snout as you’ve seen Sunfyre do for Aegon. The Cannibal only looks to Grey Ghost’s tattered corpse and takes another bite, crushing the ribcage between his jaws, ropes of gristle and deflated pink lungs gulped down.

Faintly, you hear Aegon say as he whirls to Alys: “Seven hells, I think it’s working.”

You heave yourself upwards and climb until you reach the Cannibal’s knobby spine, and nothing hurts, not your head or your ribs or the cuts on your feet or the scar that begins at your collarbone. As you are still searching for good spots to grab onto so you don’t slide off, crawling over the terrain of his back like stones, the Cannibal jolts forward and you scream when you nearly tumble head-first off of him and into the ocean. You grapple for purchase, eventually finding several large spines near his shoulder blades. You grip these thornlike appendages—your hands are too small to close around them completely—and now the Cannibal is diving into the Narrow Sea.

Aegon shouts something you can’t decipher, and then you are underwater and the world outside is muted. The ocean is ice cold and thrashing violently with the force of the Cannibal’s movement, and you hold on with your eyes squeezed shut, the currents wrenching you roughly, waiting for the dragon to resurface. But the Cannibal plunges deeper and pressure builds in your ears until it feels like they will rupture open and hemorrhage.

Is he trying to drown me??

You consider releasing his spines and paddling blindly for open air, but that would be a surrender. You would be unworthy. You would have no dragon. And the Cannibal would devour you like he did Grey Ghost.

You think in High Valyrian as loudly as you can: I will die here before I let go. I am not afraid of the afterlife. Half of my family is there already. Jace is rocking Luca in his arms, Helaena is placing ladybugs in his tiny wrinkled palms, Daeron is telling him that I’ll be home soon.

And then the Cannibal ascends, and through your eyelids you can tell there is light again, and he bursts through the surf and onto a rocky beach. He scrabbles over the ground, you lurching and blinking seawater from your eyes. The Cannibal’s black wings, ragged from battling other monsters, open like the wings of a raven or a bat. You peer down and the island is growing smaller and the wind is forceful, the ocean rippling under the gusts from the Cannibal’s wings.

You look over your shoulder, and for only a moment you glimpse Aegon standing on the shore and cheering, waving, whistling, and Alys watching with a smile. Then the Cannibal banks and carries you higher into the grey clouds. The air is frigid, and you can’t see anything through the fog, but you are grinning as the wind stings on your teeth. At last, you know what it is like to fly. Dreamfyre bonded to the gentle, Vermithor to the powerful and ambitious, but you were made for a different sort of beast. Your dragon is hateful. Your dragon is hungry.

The Cannibal circles back to Dragonstone, breaks through the sightless mist like a blade through flesh, and lands beside Aegon and Alys and snarls at them, gnashing his gore-stained fangs. Steam blasts from his nostrils and blows through their hair. Alys shrinks away from him, her hands cradling her belly protectively.

Aegon is laughing hysterically. “What now?” he says, marveling at the Cannibal, awed and horrified in equal measure. “All these years you thought there was something wrong with you. Thank the gods your egg never hatched.”

“Aemond is meeting Daemon in battle above the Gods Eye. That’s where I’m going.”

“Do you even know how to get there?!”

“It’s west of here. That’s a start.” But you see a mirage through the Cannibal’s ancient green eyes: a time years ago, decades, centuries, when he flew over the Riverlands and felt the foreign magic of the Old Gods, natural adversaries to Valyrians. He flew away from them then. He can find his way back now.

In High Valyrian, you think: Take me there and we will kill our own.

Yes, an ancient voice rumbles in your skull, wrathful black bottomless gluttony. Yes, yes.

~~~~~~~~~~

It gleams like a sapphire in the face of the earth, the Gods Eye as you descend through dense clouds that taste like metal when you breathe the winter sky into your lungs. You have flown through the night, and you both would be exhausted if not fueled by hatred the way wood feeds a fire.

The Cannibal shows you things through his archaic reptilian eyes—the Targaryens arriving on the doorstep of his lair after heeding Daenys the Dreamer’s vision of the Doom of Valyria, Aegon’s Conquest and Visenya’s scheming, Maegor the Cruel’s ashes being interred on the island where he was raised, the Old King Jaehaerys fleeing with Alysanne to Dragonstone so they could marry against the wishes of his advisors, Rhaenyra and Daemon’s wedding and happiness there before the war began, dragons coming and going, storms and eruptions and shipwrecks, claws and fangs and raw meat—and so you learn what it means to be a dragon. You show him your comparatively few memories in return, your momentary existence, and he begins to understand you too.

The dark skeletal remnants of Harrenhal, promised to Alys and the son she shares with Aemond, appear as the Cannibal flies lower. On the fields by the lakeshore, armies are clashing in battle; you see the banners of House Stark, House Lannister, and the dual factions of House Targaryen. High above the murky blue water, Vhagar and Caraxes are twisted in lethal combat, flames pouring from their jaws, claws scraping away scales.

Aemond, you think, and you wonder if he has already felt that you’re here.

The Cannibal glides with his vast, frayed wings over the Green soldiers, and you spot Criston among them, astride a galloping white horse and wielding a sword. He stares up as the Cannibal’s shadow falls over him, and he sees what you have brought with you, and he is so staggered he cannot look away. Men are pointing and shouting. The Northmen are pulling up their horses, their infantry bolting for the trees. In front of you are thousands of enemy combatants, anonymous and swarming like ants.

“Dracarys,” you whisper, and the Cannibal opens his jaws and spills a river of fire down on the Northman. Their banners burn, their horses scream and scatter, their men are cooked in their armor and stumble towards the water to extinguish themselves. You feel the Cannibal’s malevolent satisfaction. He feels your hatred turning lighter, anemic, easier to carry.

He swoops up into the sky where Vhagar and Caraxes are intertwined. Vhagar has the Blood Wyrm’s long, serpentine neck clenched between her fangs, but Caraxes is not dead yet; he has clawed through the scales of Vhagar’s belly and opened her, unspooled her, disemboweled her. Vhagar’s intestines cascade from her abdomen and tangle around her kicking feet. She is bleeding to death. She will fall soon.

Daemon knows there is no escape. He has Dark Sister in his fist and is preparing to jump from his saddle and deliver the deathblow to Aemond. You remember Daemon stalking you around the courtyard of the Red Keep with the same sword, twirling it in his hands and fantasizing about slitting your throat. The Cannibal understands this as if it is his own memory and unleashes crimson flames upon Caraxes. In his final seconds, Daemon turns and sees you, and the last thing he feels is not triumph but shock and heat and excruciating, incinerating pain, a fire that burns ruinously clean, leaving not even the bones.

Vhagar is dying. She releases Caraxes and the smoldering, broken dragon tumbles resistlessly into the lake. Aemond is calling your name. The Cannibal soars towards them, almost close enough now. Vhagar goes limp as she exsanguinates, her wings stop flapping, her colossal body spirals down towards the Gods Eye. Aemond unfastens his chains and leaps from the saddle. It is his only chance; if he hits the water with Vhagar, he will be knocked unconscious and drown, sink, vanish. His long hair is a ribbon of silver. His hands grasp for you and the Cannibal, catching nothing but empty air.

You reach for him as he falls and the wind rushes through your fingers, grey as steel and cold like the descending winter.

~~~~~~~~~~

A year ago, twilight in the garden of the Red Keep, the fountain trickling lazily as you perch on the edge with Blue Jay clinging to your forearm. High above, silver glints of constellations are burning through the indigo sky. On the ground, you kick pebbles around aimlessly with your bare feet. You avoid his gaze because you’re trying to pretend you’re teasing; you don’t want him to see how upset you are. “They’re going to make you marry a Baratheon girl.”

“No they aren’t.”

“Yes, Aemond, they are. I understand that. You don’t have to lie to me.”

“They’re going to try,” he purrs into your ear as he sits down beside you, petting Blue Jay with one lithe hand. “But I won’t do it. If Borros Baratheon needs a marriage to seal his alliance, then Daeron can wed his youngest daughter. I’ve already written to Daeron, and he agreed. He was willing, in fact. If it means he would be coming home to King’s Landing at last.”

“Lord Baratheon will want you,” you insist. “You are older. You are closer to the throne.”

“I’m very close to it,” Aemond agrees, kissing the apple of your cheek and then biting you there, the sharpness of his teeth, the pink warmth of bloodrush. Blue Jay swoops off into the dusk to devour the wheeling white specks of moths and lacewings.

“He will try to tempt you, he will offer you a beautiful bride.”

“Oh, yes, she will be beautiful,” Aemond murmurs, and when you strike at his chest he catches your wrists and yanks you in closer. “And she will be meek, and compliant, and ladylike in every way, and if she was mine she would lie down and spread her legs for me whenever I asked, because that is what is required of a dutiful wife. She will be devout…and decorous…and sinless…”

“Then marry her instead,” you hiss as you battle with him, fighting to get away, not wanting to win. Aemond drags you off the ledge of the fountain and into the cool shallow water. You splash as you struggle, your fingernails raking against his throat and the blind side of his face where he can’t see to defend himself, your long silver braid heavy and sodden, your blood-colored velvet gown drenched and clinging to you like muscles to bones.

“But the Baratheon girl wouldn’t be like me,” Aemond says, grabbing your jaw and forcing you to look at him, and while his hands are rough his voice is soft, almost like a whisper, almost like the prayers that Mother sighs in the sept, pleading for the gods to tame her children. The thrashing water goes still. Your heartbeat is slowing. You gaze into the crystalline blue of his eye and are trapped there like a sailor sinking to the bottom of the sea. “And she wouldn’t be like you either.”

You grin—relief, triumph, hunger—and Aemond kisses you, not like how a lord kisses a lady but how animals devour each other, fierce and biting, insatiable, unashamed.

Aemond says as he kneels in the water of the fountain, bats you named after him flapping overhead in a darkening sky: “I have to leave for Storm’s End at dawn. I won’t be gone long, I won’t sleep there even if I’m invited too. Wait up for me tomorrow night.”

“No,” you answer, taunting him; but you will.

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