ccallistata

Latest Posts by ccallistata

who gets me WHO GETS ME!!!!!

( insanely in love with him ; I love him sm 🙏)

damn

i yearn for him like the victorian children yearned for the mines

I'm not an Addison Rae fan but Diet Pepsi lives rent free in my head😫🤌🏻✨✨✨✨✨

girl? I just woke up and I'm already crying my eyes out😭😭😭😭😭

I was all over her.

pairing: Aemond Targaryen x female! reader

warnings: angst, sad Aemond, minor spoilers from hotd s2 ep 2, 3, and 4, not much smut but MDNI!!

WC: 4517

summary: when the world turned their back on him, she didn’t.

Don't know what I wanted, I have a memory

Throughout Aemond’s life, he remembers how much he wanted to be seen. 

By his father,

by his mother,

by his brother,

by the whole world.

He wasn’t the heir to the throne, he didn’t have a dragon like his brothers or sister. He was weak and nothing. He spend his days being teased and bullied relentlessly by his brother and nephews. They had venomous tongues and big sharp teeth. He hated the way he is.

But when the world turned their back on him, one person remained. 

She was a Tyrell, born not long after his mother gave birth to his youngest brother Daeron. His grandsire and mother are close to her parents since the Tyrells and Hightowers are two houses that are closely related. 

When he first met her back in oldtown, he saw her as a meek and shy young girl. He hated it. Because it reminded him of himself. But his hatred grew when he saw how well she gets along with Aegon, Daeron, even Helaena. Maybe he doesn’t hate her, maybe he just hates how he’s nothing like her. 

Likeable. 

Then it all changed in one summer evening. 

He was reading at the great library of oldtown, away from the world as he read about his great ancestors of old valyria and dragons. Dragons he longed to have. Like Aegon with sunfyre, Helaena with Dreamfyre, even Daeron with Tessarion. Then he heard a thud. 

Looking back from his seat, he saw no one was in the empty library but him. 

When he returned to his book, he heard another thud. 

Shutting the book with frustration, he began to look for the source of the sound that disturbed his peace. Walking deeper between old tall shelves, he took a turn to the left and saw…her.

Younger and smaller than him, but the Tyrell girl grunts as she climbs the bookshelf. Strong but mighty. The way her silly tongue sticks out as she’s so persistent to reach a book at the tallest shelf. He cleared his throat as he looked down, noticing many books had been scattered around the floor for her to climb.

She turned to him with a surprise stare.

“Prince Aemond!” 

As a child, she squeaks like a squirrel

Aemond thought to himself.

“What are you doing up there?” Aemond asks curiously. “I..I’ve been trying to reach that book!” She says as she still tries to reach the book at the highest shelf. 

“You will hurt yourself,” Young Aemond sighs. 

“Can you help me, my prince?” she asks as she jumps down from the shelf. 

“No-“

“Please!”

“Absolutely not-“

“You’re far much taller than me!” She says pointing at his height. 

Even as children, he has always been taller than her. 

Aemond sighs, knowing what he’s about to do. 

And he did it. 

Not for his own pride, but for her.

“Oh thank you!” She thanked him with a smile when he easily reached and took the book she’s looking for. The girl hugged the huge book in her arms. “It wasn’t a big deal, whatever,” Aemond says, acting nonchalant while he dusts off his clothes. “It is though, I wouldn’t have been able to reach that book if you weren’t here!” She says with a bright smile.

Heat rose up to his cheeks. No one ever ‘relied’ on him before. 

“Biarvose,” he muttered under his breath, not wanting her to know. But she heard him and tilted her head with curiosity. “Are you speaking high valyrian? It sounds lovely! Can you teach me?!” She asks cheerfully.

“What, no I’m not-“

“Please! I want to at least learn something new!” The girl says excitedly. Before he could answer, she grabbed his arm and dragged him to their seats in front of the fireplace. “I’m a fast learner, I promise!” She says as she sits down beside him with a smile.

Can’t believe he’s doing this.

But…it felt nice. The way she wanted him to teach her. She could’ve asked Aegon or Daeron…yet she chose him. 

“It’s…”

He mentioned her name. He liked how her name rolled off his tongue.

“…Tyrell, right?”

She nods. 

And since that day, and for the whole summer he taught her high valyrian in the library. Word by word, he was patient to teach her. He hates to admit it but she actually was a fast learner. 

She was his first true friend.

She was the first person who makes him feel like he has a purpose in life. 

Until they took his eye.

Just a year after he knew her, by the time he turned 10 he had claimed Vhagar, the largest and oldest dragon in Westeros. But for a price, which was his eye.

He became the same boy who hated the world. 

Never came back to oldtown or any places except the red keep. Afraid what the world might say about him. How ugly he looked with his scar, one of his eye missing, but most of all he was afraid of what SHE might say about him. Afraid of rejection, how she’ll stop spending time with him.

His thoughts were interrupted when his mother came inside his chambers. Bringing in the young Tyrell. 

“Aemond, she’s here to see you,” Alicent says, in a slight pleading tone. For he has shut himself out from the world when the maester stitched him. It hurts and it will hurt even more if he knew that all that people will see in him was a monster. 

“Go away,” he says coldly, his chair facing away from the door.

“Are you feeling any better?” Her sweet gentle voice asks as Alicent has her arm around the little girl.

Sometimes he just wants to run and hug her for comfort. For she was his escape from this cruel world. Her optimism makes him alive. He didn’t want to lose that.

“I said go away,” his hands gripped the arms of the chair.

“I brought you-,”

“I SAID GO AWAY!” He shrieks, stepping down from his chair and throwing his cup at her direction as he turns around, accidentally showing her his scar. His true self.

Alicent quickly tried to shield the young girl as she screamed. Shielding her from him.

From him.

“Aemond!” Alicent scolded her son. 

Yet his mother’s scolding didn’t matter to him. He saw his friend’s…his only friend terrified expression. He scared her. He hurt her. Just like how the world hurt him.

He took a step back. 

“I…I’m sorry,” he says lowly before returning to his chair.

He wanted to cry. But it hurts if he does.

Then he heard slow and tiny footsteps.

And she…she placed a toy dragon at the table. As her hands tremble. 

“I carved Vhagar for you…father taught me how to carve.”

The young girl says bravely. Yet Aemond wasn’t brave enough to meet her eyes. Not after he hurt her. So he says nothing. 

“Get well soon, my prince,” she curtsied and hurriedly returned to the Queen. Leaving him alone in his cold and empty room. Only the sound of crackling fire filled the room. Aemond loved silence but this time…he hated it. 

So he reached out, taking the wooden figure of his dragon into his hands. And by the time Queen Alicent returned to his chambers, she found her son asleep in his chair.

Holding the little dragon in his hands, close to his chest.

-

Back at that party, I was all over her

The death of Prince Lucerys Velaryon was at his fault and he couldn’t deny it any more. 

Kinslayer. Thats what they call him now.

His betrothal to one of Borris Baratheon’s daughter came to an end once Vhagar snapped her sharp teeth onto Vermax’s body. No one wanted to marry a Kinslayer.

A crippled and a kinslayer. 

What a fucking combo. 

But he firmly believed that everything that has happened to him was meant to be. Because if it weren’t for it, he wouldn’t be shaped as he is now. And he has to be better. Every sword training, every lessons, and at every war..he must be the best.

But that little boy inside of him still clings onto him till this very day.

Especially when his mother mentioned her name.

For he shall now marry her to strengthen the allieagance between their house and the Tyrells. They needed this. And he shall do it for them. 

He convinced himself it wasn’t personal and he doesn’t wish to meet her and just arrange the marriage ceremony. Secretly afraid for what she’ll think of him now.

A kinslayer, a cripple…a monster.

For they have not met again since that very night in his chambers. 

And when he saw her gain at the grand sept for their wedding, may the gods help him. 

She has grown into a woman. Not a young child anymore. 

She smiled to her family, giving them a nervous thin smile. 

Does he makes her nervous?

Does he scare her?

The ceremony was done in the sept. Not a grand wedding like any royal ceremony would be for they are at war and it’s ignorant if they host a grand wedding in the midst at war.

He couldn’t help but to stare how different she is now. How reserved and mature her body language is as she gracefully walks around with her long dress dragging through the cold stones of the sept. She was…beautiful.

“My prince,” she says as she curtsied. Even her voice has changed. Now it felt as if honey were dripping down her tongue.

“My Lady,” he greets back stoically. Not wanting her or anyone to read his mind. 

“How are you, my prince?” she whispers as the ceremony begins. Still making small talk as always, yet he yearns for it. He’s deeply grateful that she still wants to talk to him. Yet it has been awhile since he properly talked to her, it made him nervous. “I am well,” he whispers back. His healthy eye looked into hers as they were pronounced husband and wife. He finds nothing but nostalgia in her eyes. She is just how he remembered her.

-

We didn't make out or do anything

I just remember I was lonely

He didn’t like the idea of a bedding ceremony.

Where people would see him…and her.

It’s unnatural…and unfitting. 

So he ordered for the bedding ceremony not to be done. But he promised that he shall take her that night and they can inspect the bedsheets in the morning.

When he stepped into her chambers, he found her anxiously standing beside the bed. A weird tense atmosphere swept the room. 

“I..,” she wants to speak.

“I would like to say thank you for…not letting the bedding ceremony to happen-“

What is this? Does she not want everyone to see us together?

His anxious mind and overthinking took power over him.

“Who said it was done for you?” He snapped at her as he closed the door. 

Shit. He did it again.

And she was quiet once more.

I scared her again.

“But…still…I still want to thank you…my pr-“

“Husband,” he sternly says walking past her.

“Pardon?” 

He took a jug filled with wine and poured it onto his empty cup. He at least needed a cup of wine if he wanted to bed her right.

“I am your husband now, am I not?” He asks, not looking at her. 

“Oh yes…husband,” she says with a nod, fiddling her skirt.

Aemond turned around and took off his attire and was left with his tunic, yet she just stood there beside the bed, not being able to move. 

She was nervous.

He looked at her, unsure what he should do. Should he comfort her? Should he take her quickly so they didn’t have to endure this pain together? No- no no no he didn’t want to hurt her.

Then he saw her slowly opening her nightgown. Her hands trembling like when he hurt her as a child. She slips her nightgown over his chest-.

It’s been awhile since he saw a woman’s body.

The last time was…..was…

“Stop.”

She curiously looked up to him, only halfway through from being naked. “I-is there something wrong?-.”

“No,” he quickly answered, looking down with shame.

Yes. There is something wrong.

When Aegon took him to that brothel…at the age of 13..he…he couldn’t- it scarred him. 

She’s not like them. She’s not like that whore.

It’s only her, it’s just her!

His mind battling inside his head as he stood at the other side of the bed. He blamed Aegon for ruining something that should be meaningful for a man and woman. Ruining something that should’ve been meaningful for him and her. He blamed the brothel, he blamed his brother, and foremost he blamed himself. 

He can’t bed her.

Not like this.

“We must…do our duty,” he says, trying to mask his insecurity and vulnerability in front of her. Trying to mask the same 13 year old boy who was terrified when he stepped into the brothel for the first time. 

He didn’t dare to look up. He didn’t want to see her being disgusted by hi-

“Yet you don’t want to,” her voice was gentle and kind. Not a hint of mockery at sight. 

“I-“

“I don’t want to do this either.”

He looks up, finding her shielding her chest with her nightgown. That sight aroused him terribly. He wanted to touch her, wanted to make her happy and satisfied. He wanted to make her smile. Yet he saw the same little girl that admired him as a child. He didn’t want to fuck her, he wanted to make love with her. 

But he didn’t know how to.

So he just…stood there. The two of them stood there and said nothing. 

Just as he thought all hope was lost, she puts on her nightgown and stepped away from the bed. 

She’s leaving.

She’s disgusted by me.

“What are you-.”

She took a butter knife and roughly slits her palm, letting blood drip to the bed. 

He stared at her.

“There. They’ll think I lost my maidenhead,” she says with a little smile plastered on her face. “No one will know.”

His eye drifts into her still bleeding palm. He groaned walking towards her, ripping a cloth and wrapped her bleeding palm with it. “Mittys,” he muttered under his breath. She chuckles, “You haven’t taught me that word yet.” 

And for the first time in a lifetime, a genuine amused smirk was plastered across his face. “Stay still,” he ordered, tightening the cloth on her palm. 

When he was done, she gazed up at him for a moment. “How long has it been?” She suddenly asked. “I have not been counting,” Aemond replied, still holding her scarred hand. She slowly then pulled him to bed, sitting down. “You must stay for awhile. Or else they’d be suspicious.” 

Gods be good.

She was too kind for him. 

And he joined her, laying on the bed side by side. He wonders if she’s still afraid of him as their hands brushed against each other. He never realized how much he craved for her touch. Wondering what it feels like to be held by her. Would she be gentle? Or would she push him away? 

“Usōven,” he muttered, looking at her. Apologizing for that night.

She turned her head to look at him. And smiled.

“I forgive you.”

-

I guess I am always, it's not a problem

It's just something, I got used to it

It got worse.

His yearning for her.

He was afraid to touch her, for he did not want to touch her like a whore. She was his equal. He didn’t want to hurt her.

So he lets all of his frustration to Madame Sylvie. He was attached to her even before his wife returned to his life, yet her presence made him worse. With the war…and his guilt for the death of Lucerys…and now the presence of her…it frustrates him. Every single time he fucks that whore, he thinks of her. He imagined that it was her in bed.

Imagined that it was her holding him.

At Least he could keep her safe from him.

He didn’t mean for it to happen. He never meant for it to happen in the first place.

But when he returned from his sins back to his sacred sanctuary, he finds nothing but horror in the keep.

They murdered his nephew. 

Prince Jaehaerys. 

A son for a son.

It was his fault his nephews were dead. 

It was supposed to be him who’s dead. Whose head should be beheaded. Not his nephew. Not anyone. 

After inspecting his chambers, he rushed to his wife’s room. Finding her in bed, holding Helaena and Jaehaera as the three girls cried. He saw how terrified the three of them were, but he noticed how she cradled his sister and his niece. Whispering nothing but reassurance to them. “It’s okay, they’re gone now…you’re both safe,” he heard her. She has always taken care of Helaena and the kids well. 

Noticing his presence, his wife looked up, finding him unable to move from the doorway. She lets go of her grieving sister in law and niece as she walks to him. Her eyes were teary and red. 

Oh how he hates to see her cry.

He looks down at her, cupping her cheek with one hand.

“Where were you?” Her question rang through his ear as her voice cracked on the last word she spoke. Guilt consumed him- no. Guilt starts to eat him slowly but surely. Eating him alive as her wife, her sister, his niece, and his brother grieve for the death of the young innocent prince. He couldn’t say a word, instead hugging his wife tight as she cried into his chest. Sobbing loudly as the castle was filled with darkness. Not a light of hope in sight.

“No one will hurt you. I swear it to you. I’m here..i’m here,” he whispers to his wife as she cried.

He might’ve gotten used to the pain people put on him, but he realized that he would never ever get used to seeing her cry. 

He would never let anyone hurt her.

He would protect her from the cruel world.

Even from himself.

-

Every stranger makes me feel safer

And every person seems more beautiful

“I do regret that business with Luke, I lost my temper that day. I am sorry for it.”

“They used to tease me, y’know? Because I was different.”

He knew he should be seeking comfort from his wife, but he couldn’t. As much as she makes him feel like him…he was still afraid his wife would see right through him. To judge him. So he couldn’t. Not to her. 

He feels safer in the arms of a whore, who has no power over him. While his wife, she had all the power to control him if she could. 

Nights went on and he sneaked out secretly. And no one knew. He was safe. His secret was safe.

Until Aegon…had to ruin everything like he always did.

Humiliating him was always his brother’s hobby.

Blinded with anger, he stomps and storms back to the keep. Wanting his brother and the world to disappear. He wanted to be alone. He hated everything. Yet he didn’t realize that a certain someone was still awake.

Closing Helaena’s bedroom door, lady Tyrell exits the queen’s bedroom for Helaena finds comfort from her sister in law. Just as she wanted to call it a night, she’s standing face to face with no other than her husband.

“Aemond,” she says in surprise.

He froze. He didn’t know what to say. All the rage and humiliation were gone in an instant. His face was covered with guilt and fear. “Wife,” he answered with a hint of anxiety dripping down his tongue.

“Where have you been?” She chuckled, thinking that he was just out for a walk or something. In her mind, she would never ever even think that Aemond would be doing things like that behind her back. 

Aemond stiffened, unable to answer. Before his brother always had to ruin the show.

“Look who it is!” Aegon says as his kingsguard follows behind him. “Your husband here…well, how do I say it..ah yes, was in the whore house, dear sister,” Aegon cackles, nudging Aemond’s arm before earning a hard punch from Aemond. 

He saw red. He saw red in his eyes. He hated his brother. He hates him. He should’ve shut up. He never should’ve brought him to that place in the first place, he should’ve never returned to that place!-

“What..?” His wife’s voice slightly trembled.

Even when Aegon was in pain on the ground, he cackled. Obviously still drunk. “You heard me! He was fucking that whore like a hound!” Aegon continues to say and starts to make howling sounds. 

Aemond saw how she started to grip her nightgown, her hands trembling. Her eyes were teary, not wanting to cry.

He disappointed her.

Disappointing the only person who has faith in him.

“I…I must go…sleep well your grace and….husband,” she says nervously as she curtsied at the two brothers before walking away. 

He watched her walk away. Not daring to chase after her or call out her name. He wouldn’t dare, for he knew he disappointed her deeply. He hurt her again. Like how he did as a child. And now he’s sure she won't come back to him. This was the start of him losing her.

-

She hasn't talked to him since then. What used to be civil and peaceful. Her small talks and smiles weren’t present at his presence. She avoided him at all times. To the point where enough was enough. He couldn’t live like this. He needed her to talk to him. He doesn’t want his marriage to end like his father and his mother. He cares for her…he…he…he loves her.

And when he blinks, he finds himself standing in front of her chamber doors one morning. 

He knocked gently.

“Come in,” he heard her sweet voice that he missed from her room. 

When he enters, he received her sad and surprised expression.

“Husband,” she greeted stoically, looking away.

He then realized how her closet was wide open and empty. Her clothes scattered on the bed as he saw her stuffing her dresses onto her..

“What’s this?!” He protested.

“Mother said it’s not safe for me to be in kings landing. War is coming and…I must go home,” she says in a sad tone.

His heart sank deep hearing her words.

She’s leaving.

She’s leaving him.

“You are not going anywhere,” he insisted, roughly taking dresses out of her hands. 

“Aemond-“

“Not on my sight!-“

“But Aemond-!”

“You are safe here! With me! With Vhagar!” He exclaims roughly, taking out of her dresses from her trunk. 

“Aemond, stop it!”

Yet Aemond does not answer. 

“I will keep you safe. Vhagar will keep you safe, no one will never hurt you-“

“But you did!”

Silence.

Gods, he hated the silence between them.

“You don’t understand,” he grunts as he grips the bedsheets. “How can I understand if you never let me in?!” She protested, tears streaming down from her eyes. He doesn’t even want to look at her. He didn’t want to see her cry.

“See? You wouldn’t even look at me! You wouldn’t touch me, you wouldn’t kiss me, you…,” she points out. 

Aemond sighs in defeat. 

It was all his fault.

But then he roughly took off his eyepatch, towering over her, gripping her wrist as he showed his sapphire eye to her. “And would you? Would you touch this monster, hm? Kiss this husband of yours who’s the reason why two innocent boys are killed? The reason why this war STARTED IN THE FIRST PLACE?!” 

She flinched.

She closed her eyes, scared…waiting for him to do something to her.

It broke him. 

“I…I..forgive me, I..,” Aemond lowers down his voice and hand, releasing her. Now guilt and shame has finally eaten him whole. He hurt her. Again and again. She deserved better. 

Then came a knock on the door.

“Sorry for interrupting, my prince but..the council awaits your presence,” A guard said to him.

“I’ll be there.”

-

Aemond took his time and walked out of her chambers with her as her trunks were carried out from her room. It was present how there’s a gap between them. He wanted to hold her hand terribly, but he couldn’t. Not after what he did to her.

He felt how people were looking. Eyes on them as they walked through the halls of the red keep. He tried one more time to reach his pinky finger to hers but when they touched, she pulled her hand away to rub her other arm. 

He lost her.

He probably never had her in the first place.

When they reached her carriage, he didn’t want to tear his eyes from her. 

“I would, y’know?” She suddenly says with her gentle voice.

“Pardon?”

“I would…kiss and touch you,” she repeats. “The monster you said of…is still my husband. You’re still my husband,” she emphasizes.

Her words touched him somewhere in the deepest parts of his heart that no one has touched before. It made him frozen and unable to move a single muscle or bone in his body.

“I know that I am not what you needed, and I know that I’m nothing to you-.”

She was terribly wrong. How wrong she was. She meant the world to him.

She was…everything to him.

“I hope you will find what you’re looking for in the future.”

He didn’t want anyone but her.

They looked back and saw people watching.

They’re waiting.

They’re watching.

She has always been far much braver than him. So she walked back to him, placing a gentle kiss on his cheek, just beneath his eye patch. Beneath his scar. 

“Geros ilas, my love…avy jorrāelan,” she whispered to him before pulling away and stepping into her carriage without looking back.

And little did Aemond know, that will be the last time he would ever get to see her. 

In his heart, he blamed the world again. 

He blamed his brother.

He blamed everyone and everything that took her away from him.

Maybe in another life, the war wouldn’t have happened, Aegon wouldn’t have took him to the brothel, Lucerys didn’t take his eye, and maybe.. he could hold her like a normal person would. Maybe they’d have children…and maybe…maybe she’d stay. 

But right now, he walks back to the keep to assemble their army. To rook’s rest. To prove his brother and the whole world. To win this war.

For her. 

a/n: Hello everyone! I’m Alice and thank you so much for reading! Fyi I used to write on tumblr but my old account was like semi suspended? Idk I couldn’t interact with people, I couldn’t comment on people’s post so now I’m here and uhh hi🥹I hope you enjoy this one shot and I’m only gonna write fics mainly about the Ewanverse so you’re in for a ride🫶🏻🤗 I’m gonna write more in the future and thank you for sticking around until the end of this fic! Thank you once againnn💞💞

I badly wanna see a gwayne hightower x velaryon/strong reader fanfic HAHAHAHAHAHAHA it's giving enemies to lovers and forbidden love troupe😫😫😫😫

save me team black man. SAVE ME.

Kate mini version

Anthony Bridgerton x Kate Sharma x Sharma!sis

Summary: Y/n adapted to the Bridgerton family dynamic. However, she remains a little fearful and shy. Could the arrival of a prince change that?

part 1

Ever since Kate and Anthony assured Y/n that they wanted her to live with them, things had gotten better. The girl felt more comfortable with them, and appreciated the effort the couple made to show that she was always welcome. Riding horses for the three of them was an almost regular activity now, and these afternoons were Y/n's favorite.

Anthony had given her a beautiful black mare, which she insisted on learning to wash and comb, even though there were servants for that purpose. The man then spent the rest of the month teaching her how to ride, and this was something that brought her very close to Anthony, who she now considered like a brother.

The truth was, living with her older sister and her husband was wonderful. There was never a dull moment and she always had someone to talk to. Furthermore, the relationship between her and Kate was the strongest, and they were more inseparable than ever. Y/n's mother had agreed that her daughter would stay at Viscount's house for a while and thus extended her stay in India.

However, even though she was comfortable in that smaller core, she still felt shy around Anthony's siblings. She loved them all, and they always treated her equally, but in the back of her head there was always that thought that she was intruding.

Now, the Bridgerton family plus Y/n were on their way to the park to have a picnic. The season was starting again and suitors from all over the world were arriving to try to find someone. On the way there, Y/n entertained herself by listening to Eloise's grumbling that she would be entering the season again, even if the last thing she wanted was to find a husband.

Bridgerton had made a point of giving Y/n her feminist speech, and despite the eye rolls she received from some of her siblings, Y/n agreed with everything she said. However, she always wanted to be married to a man who truly loved her, and that wasn't going to change.

It was a sunny day, perfect for staying right by the lake and enjoying the delicious food that the maids had prepared. Anthony and Kate were in their own world, whispering to each other with gigantic smiles, Benedict and Collin were appreciating the ladies passing by, and Eloise was reading her book while Violet had met Lady Danbury and the two were chatting animatedly. Daphne and Simon hadn't arrived with their son yet, but Y/n couldn't wait to play with the baby again.

Meanwhile, she, Hyacinth, Gregory and Francesca were walking around the lake, picking up rocks and seeing who could throw them the furthest. Probably not the most etiquette thing they could do, but Violet and Anthony hadn't stopped them yet so they continued.

"I'm starting to get tired." Y/n grumbled, rolling the shoulder of her arm that was starting to feel sore from throwing so many rocks. "I think I'll sit down and get some sun."

"We'll be right there and keep you company then. I just need to beat Gregory first!" Hyacinth promised.

Y/n smiled towards the three, then heading towards the lawn where the others were. She momentarily looked down, seeing that she had gotten a little dirty on her dress when she went up against someone. The force of the impact had been so great that she lost her balance and began to fall backwards. However, this never happened because someone managed to grab her arms and pull her up again.

When she opened her eyes, having closed them in preparation for the fall, she saw a young man, around her age, looking worriedly at her. "Are you alright? My apologies, Miss, I was distracted and didn't see you."

"I'm okay." she said a little breathlessly. Their proximity didn't help either. "I'm the one who apologizes. I should be looking ahead instead of at my dress."

"It is a beautiful dress." he said, taking the opportunity to look her up and down, letting a small smile form on his lips. Y/n's cheeks immediately started to turn pinker. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Miss…"

"Sharma." Y/n smiled. "I'm sorry, I don't recall who you are."

"Prince Charles, the youngest son of Queen Charlotte and King George." he chuckled when he saw Y/n's wide eyes, who quickly made a small bow. "Please, that's not necessary. On top of that, I was the one who almost made you fall to the ground."

"My apologies, Prince Charles. I returned from India only a few months ago and it seems that I still don't know everything I should know. This mistake will not be repeated."

"It wasn't anything serious. To be honest, I'm actually glad you didn't immediately know who I was. I went against you because I was running away from an Earl's daughters who were begging me to marry them." A silence fell over them. "Who are you here with?"

"My sister and her husband's family. Viscount Anthony Bridgerton and Viscountess Kate Bridgerton." Y/n looked over his shoulder, seeing Anthony staring in her direction, more specifically at the Prince. He was about to get up when Kate pulled him down again, sending Y/n a smile and a wink. "They're looking at us right now."

"Of course, I know who they are. My mother loved the love story between them. Since then, she has only told my older siblings that she wants them to have something like that too. But they are not very interested in getting married, much to the Queen's disappointment."

Y/n just let out a small chuckle in response, not really knowing what to say. The proximity to the prince was becoming increasingly intimidating, and it didn't help that the entire Bridgerton family had noticed that interaction and were now observing discreetly.

"I apologize, Prince Charles, but I must return to my sister's family. We came to take advantage of this beautiful day to have a picnic."

"Of course, Miss Sharma. I hope to see you again soon." he nodded with his hands clasped behind his back. With a smile, he went back on his way while Y/n walked over to where Kate and Anthony were, her cheeks painted a light pink.

"What were you talking about?" Anthony questioned without being able to control himself any longer, his half-closed eyes still focused on the back of the boy walking in the distance.

Kate rolled her eyes at Anthony's exaggerated protectiveness, but the truth is that her heart started to beat faster when she saw how Anthony had so much care and affection for Y/n. It made her imagine how protective he would be of their daughters.

"Don't pay attention to Anthony, Y/n. The prince seemed very interested in talking to you. You should have gone for a walk together."

"Sister!" the younger girl exclaimed with wide eyes, becoming even more embarrassed. "He was just apologizing for going against me."

"That boy, prince or not, should look where he is going! Irresponsible, that's what he is!" Anthony continued to mumble, ignoring the look his wife sent him.

"Well, I am delighted that you made a new friend, Y/n. Now come sit with us for a while and drink some water, it's very hot."

"You're getting worse than mother." Y/n rolled her eyes in amusement. She added with a wink, "I guess it's a good training for the future."

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

"I do not want to go." Y/n stated, crossing her arms defiantly.

"Sister, we've already had this conversation." Kate repeated for the thousandth time, but still with the same patience as the first time. The older woman sighed, looking understandingly at her sister who was looking at the floor with a pout. "What are you really afraid of? It's your first ball, it's normal for you to be nervous."

Y/n was going to be subject to the season for the first time, where she could meet her future husband. Despite all the nerves she felt, she was happy to have Kate, Anthony, and the rest of the Bridgerton family with her. Furthermore, she would be in the same situation as Francesca, except that the latter had been named diamond of the season.

"How's mother and Edwina?" Y/n tried to change the subject, instead asking about the two other Sharmas who were in Prussia. Edwina was pregnant with her first child with Prince Friedrich and Mary had gone there, after a brief stop in England, to support Edwina.

"Y/n, don't change the subject. You can talk to me."

"What if no one asks me to dance, Kate?" Y/n finally revealed her fears shyly. She spoke so quietly that Kate had to strain to understand her words, but when she did her eyebrows furrowed in sadness. "You and Anthony took me in, what if now no one asks me to dance and I make you look bad?"

"First of all, you could never make us look bad and we would never be disappointed in you. I even think Anthony's biggest dream would be if you and Francesca didn't dance with anyone." Kate chuckled knowing how protective her husband was. "And I don't want you to be forced to dance with anyone. You can say no if someone invites you to dance and you don't want to. And if anything happens, call Anthony or his brothers."

"I will." the girl nodded, seeing her sister's serious look. "I hope everything goes well."

"Of course it will! And you won't be alone, we'll all be there in case you need anything. And who knows, maybe you'll see a certain prince. I heard the queen is going to make him participate in this season."

Y/n didn't respond to the teasing, she just continued to get ready with the help of the maids. When Anthony called them from downstairs, the two sisters hurried to meet him, seeing that the rest of the family was already there with the exception of Francesca.

When they saw her, a big smile appeared on everyone's faces, Violet going to give her a hug as soon as she reached the end of the stairs and Daphne holding her hand. "You look beautiful."

"Thank you." she smiled at the women, and was later praised by Eloise, and the Bridgerton brothers.

Then, it was Francesca's turn to go down the stairs, catching their attention. After the compliments she received, the girl stood next to Y/n, the two holding hands as they walked to the carriages waiting for them.

"You look very beautiful, diamond of the season." Y/n said with a teasing smile, squeezing her hand in Francesca's in comfort.

"You do as well, Princess Sharma." Francesca giggled. To relieve the tension, the girl looked straight ahead at Anthony who was helping Kate into the carriage, his forehead dripping with sweat as he looked discreetly at the two teenagers. "I think my brother is going to pass out from how nervous he looks."

"Tonight promises to be quite interesting. At least he has my sister to control him a little, or I think he would be glaring at every suitor in the room, even if they didn't even want anything to do with us."

When they arrived at the Queen's castle, they were both amazed by the place. An orchestra played in the middle while some couples were already dancing, the space decorated with various details and chandeliers lighting up the room. When the Bridgerton family entered, everyone stopped to observe the diamond of the season, who was still clinging to Y/n.

To give her the focus of attention, Y/n tried to move away but Francesca just grabbed her hand tighter, sending her a look of fear. The Sharma girl nodded in understanding, then stood on Francesca's side, also being subjected to the curious looks of other people.

"Come on, girls." Anthony said, guiding the family to a corner while everyone analyzed the environment. He then turned to his two friends, who in his eyes were too young to be thinking about suitors, but he knew that this was the right age. "If you need anything, and I mean anything, go to one of us. We'll always be here to make sure you're okay. Now, all of you split up and socialize."

"They already look so nervous and you're going to scare them even more with your nerves." Benedict placed a hand on his older brother's shoulder. "Relax, brother. Go dance with your wife, we are also here to take care of them."

"I know." Anthony sighed, running a hand over his face. His tense muscles only relaxed when he felt Kate's hand caress his arm as she smiled understandingly. "Shall we dance, Viscountess Bridgerton?"

"We shall." she giggled, letting her husband guide her to the center of the room.

Meanwhile, Y/n watched the people at the ball nervously and curiously. They were all dressed to the nines, with the best fabrics and jewelry that showed the families' wealth and status. The Sharma smiled slightly when she noticed a girl being asked by a suitor. It was obvious that they were both nervous, but when he finally managed to ask the question, the girl blushed and accepted with a big smile.

Y/n sighed, turning her attention elsewhere. Her heart was beating heavily against her chest, wondering if she was going to experience the same situation as that girl.

A light touch on her shoulder made her snap out of her thoughts. Y/n turned to the side, her eyes widening when she saw Prince Charles standing there, both hands behind his back and a perfect smirk on his lips.

"Miss Sharma, what a pleasure to see you again."

"Prince Charles." she greeted, making a small bow. "This time I haven't forgotten my manners."

"I must say you look beautiful tonight." he praised, gently taking one of her delicate hands and bringing it to his lips, lightly kissing her skin. Y/n's cheeks immediately flushed, getting worse when she realized that they were attracting the attention of others. "Are you enjoying the ball?"

"Very much, thank you. The orchestra plays beautifully. It's lovely to see so many people dancing, especially my sister and Viscount Bridgerton. I have never seen them happier."

"Indeed. We could dance too… If you would like to, of course." Y/n didn't think she had ever seen the boy being shy, but she had to admit that it was really cute to see him like that.

"Are you sure? Many people are already looking at us… Including the Queen." she whispered the last part with a look of fear. "Are you supposed to find a lady to marry this year?"

"My mother hopes so, but she doesn't pressure me into anything. Right now, I just want to dance with you. Please? Don't pay attention to anyone else, just focus on me."

Y/n swallowed hard, but nodded, resting her hand on the arm Charles offered. The two walked to the dance floor as soon as the song ended, preparing for a new melody. The Sharma girl held her breath when she felt the boy's hand position itself on her waist, pulling her closer, while the other intertwined with hers.

The music started slowly and Y/n let the prince lead her, too nervous to even remember the choreography she had already practiced several times before. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Kate and Anthony looking at them as they danced, giving nods of encouragement but still keeping their attention on them.

The rest of the people looked in shock, seeing the youngest son of the Queen and the King dancing with the sister of Viscountess Bridgerton who had caused a lot of talk last season. The Queen was also watching them, a small smile appearing on her lips.

"You're not just focusing on me." Charles hummed, squeezing her waist to show she was just joking. "And on top of that I'm a great dancer."

"My apologies. But I can't agree with the last part. I think —" but she couldn't finish her sentence as Charles picked her up and twirled her around several times until her laughter could be heard above the music.

"Sorry, what were you saying?" he laughed teasingly, loving the blush on her cheeks. He wanted to make her blush all the time, he loved the effect he had on the girl who was constantly on his mind since that day in the park.

"Prince Charles, this will certainly not be seen very well by other people. They are all whispering about us now! More than they already were."

"Call me Charles." He said, ignoring the rest of what Y/n said. His eyes were intense, studying the girl's face and stopping on her lips before moving up to her eyes.

"No."

"No?" he raised his eyebrows, as if he wasn't expecting that answer. Y/n stepped away from him, making a small bow. And only then did he realize that the song had already ended.

"I really enjoyed this dance, thank you. I hope to meet you again. We keep crossing paths so who knows?" she smiled, turning her back and walking towards Francesca who was alone in the corner, a drink in her hand.

Prince Charles definitely wanted to see Y/n Sharma again, his gaze following the girl's movements as if in a trance. Surely him standing in the middle of the dance floor looking at Y/n would be the main topic in the paper of Lady Whistledown.

is it just me? but I kinda see a resemblance to Jules Bianchi😭😭😭😭 I should probably sleep at this point

YOU‘RE THE ONLY THING I PRAY FOR.

Daemon Targaryen x niece!Reader

You’re King Viserys oldest daughter, hardly a year older than Rhaenyra, but it was Queen Alicent that has taken you under her wing after your mother died birthing your late brother, strengthening your very being with her own faith. You’re pious, though all your prayers resolve around one thing: being married one day to provide your husband with a healthy heir. A betrothal has already been made, but what if you want the opposite of your pious nature? Something that would make you feel alive just as much as riding your dragon does? You’ve been so faithful to the Seven, so it is only right they finally offer you something in return.

WARNINGS: See each chapter for individual warnings. Both chapters will include sexual content and canon typical incest between uncle and niece.

WORDS: —

NOTES: Yes, I know Aemond won the corruption poll (shocker, I know 💀), but the Daemon option hasn’t left my mind for a few days. The Aemond thing is in the works, too, and will probably be a mini-series as well! Based on this request. This won’t really be a series and more a One-Shot split into two parts because I hate posting things that are longer than 4K words. 🫠 Part 1 basically is the smutty bit and part 2 is the Valyrian wedding and a smutty bit.

Part 1 — coming 01/10/24

Part 2 — coming 01/19/24

you’re my absolute favourite lando fanfic writer, i get so excited whenever you post. can you do some sort of fake dating x enemies to lovers with lando & some angst & grovelling please? i leave the rest up to you, i can’t wait to see what you come up with<3

THIS IS THE BEST MIX OF TROPES I HAVE EVER SEEN I LOVE YOU FOR THIS also thank you so much for saying I’m your fav lando writer I’m blushing ☺️

You Were Never What I Wanted, (LN4)

Summary: Lando and Y/n have never liked each other and it’s only the distaste the world has for them when McLaren forces them to “put on a show for the public”. At first, a few hand holds and light, quick kisses seem to be tolerable, yet feather light touches turn into longing stares and, suddenly, they’re falling in love. Although, hatred is a powerful emotion. Can love really trump it?

Warnings: language, sexual discussions, very mild smut, lando and yn yearning, yn calling lando a man whore not affectionately, talks of death, a crash, she’s long so grab popcorn, omfg this one hurts

Note: i love a good fake dating y’all don’t GET. IT. Also i added the reformed playboy trope to this to spice things up! It’s very mildly mentioned tho

“Are you fucking kidding me?!” Lando screeches, body flying from his chair beside Y/n.

Charlotte smiles tightly at him, nodding slowly and putting her hands up, “Lando, yes. You know this is the only way to clean up the reputation you two have developed together.”

He groans, turning to pace the room when Zak interrupts, “Lando, be a fucking man and clean up the mess you’ve made.”

He turns quickly, eyes bulging as he yells, “It wasn’t fucking me! It was her!” He turns to look at Y/n, bewildered look in his eyes as he points furiously at her, “It was you! You got us into this mess! You clean it up!”

Y/n rolls her eyes at him and he almost loses his head, “You’re just as at fault, Lando. You’re the one that openly criticized my driving in a room full of reporters and cameras!”

“I was asked a fucking question, Y/n. It was my job to answer it honestly.” He shoots back.

She scoffs, “Are you fucking psychotic? Or just that fucking stupid? Our job is to lie to the press, that’s what it’s always been. Don’t fucking change it when it’s convenient for you.”

Lando’s hands claw at his eyes as they continue to bicker, “The only person who’s stupid here is you.”

“I was standing up for myself!”

“Oh, yeah?! Now, look where that’s gotten us! A fucking PR stunt!”

“Get over yourself, Lando! You’re just as at fault!”

“You’re so fucking annoying, Y/n! Can’t take any fucking accountabil-”

“Oh, please, you’re one to ta-”

“OKAY!” Charlotte claps her hands as she stops the two drivers. The image before her is one she never thought she’d see this season. Lando Norris, a McLaren driver and well known playboy, getting mad he had to kiss one of the most beautiful women to grace the sport of Formula 1, fellow driver on the grid, Y/n Y/l/n. She surely would’ve chuckled if Lando’s eyes weren’t alive with an angry fire she needed to diffuse immediately.

“You two need to just realize that whose fault this was doesn’t matter. What you need to focus on is pretending you’re in love, so the media stops breathing down McLaren’s and Red Bull’s necks. This is the only way we can make all this bad press go away.” She explains, hands moving rapidly in front of her as she tries to calm the two down.

Y/n, the more rational one, nods, accepting her fate with grace. Lando, on the other hand, stomps his foot on the ground and mutters a sentence of agreement before storming out of the room.

Y/n laughs, turning to Zak and Charlotte, the papaya employees looking as if five years had just been taken off their lives, “I don’t know how you put up with him. He’s so fucking childish.”

Charlotte, media trained, smiles, “He’s better when he isn’t angry.”

Zak, not media trained, nods, “Y/n, I’ve never agreed with you more.”

The man and woman share a look, a subtle scolding glint in Charlotte’s eye as she stares at Zak. He backs down, earning a giggle from Y/n as she begins to leave the room.

“You’ll send the NDAs and other contracts over to Red Bull, right? I’d like to get this started and over with as soon as possible.” Y/n smiles, a soft one that makes others feel warm inside.

Charlotte nods, “Of course. Consider it done.”

Y/n, keeping her smile and composure, withdraws from the room, the door closing with a loud click.

Zak and Charlotte are left to sink down into the chairs behind them. Slugging, Zak’s head lulls to her side, “This is either the best idea we’ve ever had or the worst one.”

She laughs, “They either fall in love or hate each other more.”

—

“Okay, so,” Charlotte smiles at Lando and Y/n from her side of the SUV, the two on either side of the car, sitting as far away from the other as possible, “This is going to be a short outing.”

“Thank God.” Lando mumbles under his breath, earning a scowl from the girl beside him.

Charlotte huffs, continuing, “Just a coffee run. You’ll go into the cafe, holding hands, maybe a kiss or two, get your drinks, and then leave. Very quick. However, I need you two to give it your all. This will be the first time the public sees you as something more than enemies. It needs to be convincing. Heart eyes and maybe, if you’re comfortable, roaming hands.”

Lando’s head turns in utter disgust, “If you fucking think I’m going to touch her ass or some shit, you’ve absolutely lost it.”

Y/n’s body whips around, whole torso facing him as she stares him down, “Oh, please, Lando, you get no fucking women. You haven’t touched anybody’s ass, let alone a girl’s, in fucking ages.”

“Oh, yeah? Then, explain the girl that woke up in my bed this morning!” He fires back, head tilting in a challenging way.

Y/n shoves her arms across her chest as she sits back and whispers, loud enough for him and Charlotte to hear, “Man whore.”

Charlotte’s eyebrows lift slightly, exhaling a breath, “Well! This should be fun!”

The car comes to a stop in an alleyway, hidden from prying eyes. Charlotte lets the silence pass between the two for a few moments before leaning over and opening Lando’s door, “Well, get on with it! Chop chop! Don’t have all the time in the world.”

Lando slides out of the car, shaking his head and grumbling incoherently. Y/n follows him, however, when she gets her legs hanging out the door, she is reminded of just how high the car is off the ground. She goes to turn her body around, opting to slide slowly out on her stomach in avoidance of an accident, but, before she can get positioned, Lando grabs her hips and lifts her from the car, down onto the ground.

There’s a moment where she’s so taken aback, surprised, by the movement, all she can do is grip onto his biceps and stare down at her feet, safely on the pavement. It’s only when Charlotte starts yelling, “Yes! Yes, Lando! Just like that! Look at her like that!” That she looks up. What she finds is deep green eyes completely dilated and lost in the sight of her. She reminds herself of the hatred this man has for her, brushing off the way his hands squeeze over the flesh of her hips desperately, and removes herself from his hold.

Immediately, he comes to, the snarl replacing whatever emotion had taken over his face before. She trails down the dirty, smelly passageway, hearing Lando’s feet patter behind her.

It’s as if she’s achingly aware of his presence when he reaches her, just before they turn onto the public street, and takes her hand in his. The way his cologne wraps around her body, suffocating her in the most addicting way, and the feeling of his fingers fitting perfectly in the divots of hers, soft against her skin, has Y/n reeling. She goes along with his movements, relying on him to guide her as she travels to a place where Lando’s just the man she used to think he was; insanely hot and incredibly charming.

He pulls her back, however, when he opens the door for her and quietly says her name when she doesn’t walk through.

“Y/n?” His hand tugs against hers, smiling softly at the way she stares off into space. Whether that smile is genuine, although, Y/n has no clue.

She shakes her head, murmuring a thank you to him as she scurries past the threshold. When they both enter, their presence is immediately clocked by the other customers waiting for their orders. That’s what Y/n tells herself when Lando comes up behind her, arms around her waist as he rests his head on the top of hers.

“What do you want, baby? I’m paying.” He says, low enough for it to come across as a whisper, but loud enough for the girl in front of them to turn her head slightly in curiosity.

He’s surprisingly good at this, falling into the role demanded of him in a way that has Y/n faltering. She was expecting a man who was so distant from her, the same as her past partners, she had to beg for his attention. Yet, here she was getting showered in affection by a man she was convinced didn’t have the capacity for it.

Her response is easy, covering for the feelings arising within a certain part of herself she can’t quite name, “Just a cappuccino. Thanks, Lan.”

His grin is sweet as he lays a kiss on her temple. His hands rub over her hips as he detaches himself from her body and moves in front of her, teasingly pushing her away from the register with a light laugh.

Lando spews off the order to the man behind the counter as Y/n moves to the other side of the establishment, residing where the orders are dropped off. It could’ve been strategic, it probably was she promises herself, but Lando yells across the store to her.

“Y/n! Love, do you want food? They have your favorite here,” He smiles at her, earning a few giggles from fawning girls in the corner, “Croissants!”

Did he know croissants are actually her favorite or was that just a lucky guess?

Y/n gives him an airy chuckle, head falling back slightly in a lovesick way as she shakes her head, “Nah, I’m okay. Just gives us another opportunity to come back here.”

He nods at her, shaking his head at the barista and handing him some cash.

He tips the change, a hefty amount seemingly as Y/n watches the worker hesitate and thank Lando profusely. Her heart warms, shining on the inside as he treats hardworking people, those who are usually treated horrifically, with the utmost respect.

These reactions she’s having toward him are confusing, a far off nagging in her brain that she might’ve always wished for this type of attention specifically from him.

Nevertheless, she forces her mind to end its overwhelming thoughts when he waltzes over and sidles up next to her. She’s determined to keep this transactional, however she can.

She can’t get feelings.

She won’t get feelings.

And that was that, she decided.

“Lando!” Another worker calls out, setting down two drinks on the counter in front of them. Y/n goes to pick them up, however Lando beats her, giving her a cheeky grin as he mumbles, “You’re my girlfriend, Y/n. You don’t get the drinks, I do. Don’t be barbaric.”

She stands staring at him, mouth agape at his comment as the girls sitting behind them, somehow closer now, gasp.

Y/n hits his arm, the liquid jostling in his grip, “We weren’t supposed to say anything yet!”

He shrugs in return as he pushes the door open with the side of his body, and waits for her to walk through, “I guess I just couldn’t wait, baby. Too in love.”

She shakes her head at him, taking the drink from his hand, their digits brushing against the other’s in an electrifying way, “Down the toilet goes the soft launch plan.”

As they turn the corner, the smile he had been adoring her with suddenly vanishes and the usual pain that fills his expression when he’s around her returns.

“I’m just trying to get this over with, Y/n. Waiting a whole fucking month to tell some fans we’re together is so fucking stupid and I’m not doing it.” He bites out, a hostility to him she had forgotten in the ten minutes he had just treated her like she was his everything.

She drops the coffee on the ground as they grow closer to the car, shock at his quick change in attitude forcing her body to go numb. Lando stops when she does, both of them staring down at the leaking, steaming drink.

He dryly laughs at her, “How fucking stupid! Can’t even hold her own drink! No wonder you’re a shit driver!”

He gets in the car, shutting the door harshly and leaving her to internalize his criticisms.

For some reason, after getting a glimpse at what being loved by him feels like, his words hurt more, mean more.

What a dangerous game.

—

Lando is a known party animal. He’s in love with the blinding lights, loud music, and alcohol flowing without a care in the world what hangover he’d be graced with in the morning. However, with her here, it proves to be a much more stressful experience.

She’s glued to his side, not particularly the clubbing type, and Lando feels his heart quicken when other men bend their backs to see her walk away. A month into the arrangement they structured and he’s consistently feeling as if he’s fighting off every man that floats their way.

He’s worried someone will try to take advantage of her; he’s worried someone will spike her drink; he’s worried someone will touch her weirdly; he’s worried someone will bother her.

He’s worried about her.

A thought so pressing he forces it out of his mind, away from the impending cloudiness that accompanies a topic so big; the way he feels toward her.

The way it was explained to him, by the joint teams of McLaren PR and Red Bull PR, was that, for the first few weeks, their relationship outings would consist of soft dates, quick times spent out together grabbing takeout or a few pictures here and there on both their social medias that addressed their relationship status. Once they got past that time period, they would begin to see the public more often as a union. Long dinners, a handful of charity functions, a gala, and nights out clubbing riddled his calendar now.

Something he wasn’t too opposed to he was coming to find out.

That was the phase they were entering now; the hard launch. After his stunt in the coffee shop those four weeks ago, the teams had to regroup. The girls who had been hanging around had heard his slight confession of love, plastering it on the internet for every person to see.

The consequence? Lando didn’t get to be seen with Y/n for a week as the PR teams waited for the attention around the news to subside.

He wouldn’t risk that now.

Not when he was beginning to get used to the way her hand held his bicep as his fingers tangled in her other hand below.

“Lan?” She yells in his ear, their footsteps just now reaching the VIP section as the bodyguard lets them through.

He looks down at her, their faces centimeters away, lips centimeters away, and Lando’s scared.

Scared of the things he wants to do as her plump, pink lips sit right below his.

“Yeah?” His eyes avert to Max, his best friend, the boy giving him a knowing glance as he sips on his glass.

“Get me a drink please? I would do it myself, but I don’t want to risk having to talk to a random guy and-” He interrupts her immediately when she mentions the possibility of someone else hitting on her.

“I got it.” He’s spinning around, fast walking toward the bar before she can tell him what she wants.

She turns around, wandering over to Max and plopping down beside him on the soft, black couch in the corner of the room.

Max shakes his head as he looks at her, chuckling softly before letting his head fall to his chest.

“What?” She asks, eyebrows raising at the boy she had grown close to over the time she’d spent with his friend.

“You two are so funny.” He continues giggling, his girlfriend smacking his arm with a cautious look.

Y/n’s eyebrows furrow, “What?”

“You guys say you hate each other, but then you look at each other like you can’t wait to rip the other’s clot-” He begins, but Pietra slaps her hand over his mouth.

“MAX FEWTRELL!” She screams over the music, “NONE OF YOUR BUSINESS!”

Her scolding makes him cower into himself, a drunken look on his face as he searches for mercy from his girlfriend.

Y/n is about to press for more when Lando shoves her drink in front of her, holding it out for her until she cradles it in her own.

Looking down at it, her head tilts, “A vodka soda with two orange slices?”

Lando stares at her blankly, “Yeah, you’re favorite, right?”

She nods, “Yeah.”

They look at each other for a moment. Confusion on both their faces for two different reasons.

“Is that a problem?” He asks her, hand dangerously close to her thigh and heating the skin of her leg up with the need for him to splay his fingers across it.

She shakes her head slowly, “No, just- How did you know it was my favorite?”

Emotions flash through his eyes, too fast for Y/n to decipher them. He withdraws physically, cold returning to her leg when his hand retracts to his lap.

“Uh, you just told me a few times.” He stutters.

If she knew him better, she might say for certain he was nervous.

Not mentioning the fact she had never told him what her favorite alcoholic drink was, Y/n moves on. It’s not because she doesn’t want to find out how he knew what she liked or that she simply doesn’t care how he knows, it’s because a camera catches her peripheral eye. Her head discreetly moves to the side, analyzing the drunken girl who stumbles over to the railing and points her phone right at them.

Y/n falls into Lando’s side, his body laid against the back of the couch and making for a comfortable cushion. His arm automatically wraps around her shoulders as her hand plants itself on his upper thigh.

When her fingers brush teasingly close to his crotch, he looks down at her, astonished, “What are you doing?”

“Camera.” She says, his eyes looking up through his lashes before he sees what she had witnessed before.

He nods subtly, leaning down immediately to press his lips to hers shortly. It’s a kiss like the ones they’d had before, quick and dry, yet, this one, instead of pulling away right after, Lando lingers. His lips brush against hers in hesitation, as if he’s deciding whether or not he wants to lean back in for more. His eyes stare into hers, top lip hitting her bottom one as he dips his chin down. He’s close to taking what he wants, breath heavy against her face as he holds her to him. His hands eagerly claw at her dress, forcing her to stay where she is, where he wants her to be, close to him. Yet, he continues to hesitate.

Finally, for the first time, Y/n sees the emotion that hides behind the beautiful color of his eyes; confusion.

It’s only for a split second though. She sees it only for a millisecond as Lando feels the way she breaks down a wall he had built up long ago. When she realizes the war behind his head, he retreats.

His hands fall from her back and his head turns to the side, rejecting what he wanted to do. She watches him look for the girl that had been filming them, eyes roaming over the crowd before coming to the conclusion she was gone.

“No camera.” He says curtly, pushing her off him as he gets up from the couch and walks back to the bar.

She watches him order another drink, no doubt for himself.

Her eyes train on the drink that sits, sweating, on the table in front of them.

Lando’s drink that’s completely full.

🏎️

Liquid courage is a real thing. It’s what drives Lando to ask Y/n to join him on the dance floor. It’s what drives Y/n to pull him into her and sway her hips right against him. They’re on beat with the music, it thumping in their hearts as Lando grips her hips and forces her body closer to his. There’s a newfound sexual tension, rather than the usual tension that consisted of complicated feelings and lingering hurt over past insults. Her hands drape over his neck, head in his chest as he lays his against her shoulder, withholding groans when she circles her hips and accidentally caresses his dick.

His head’s somewhere else, terrifyingly so. He’s not fully thinking through his actions or the thoughts running through his head, the consequences they would have.

All he can think about is the feeling of Y/n’s boobs pressed up against his chest, her cleavage cum-worthy when he looks down and sees her potential spill-out.

The chorus of Love Tonight pumps through the speakers, communicating the feelings they’re too scared to say.

All I need is your love tonight.

All I need is your love tonight.

All I need is your love tonight.

All I need is your love tonight.

The music spurs him on, almost nudging his head downwards to meet her in the same spot they had been in just a few hours before.

His lips hovering over hers with the same thoughts as before, Lando’s brain goes haywire. She’s panting against him, hips relentless as they continue to circle against him. He’s drowning in her, no escape from the hold she has on him.

Fuck it, he thinks.

He smashes his lips against hers, the first kiss they’ve had that truly puts into perspective how much they want each other. Teeth clashing, his tongue wandering the walls of her mouth, Lando and Y/n fail to come up with an excuse for their actions.

No cameras, no fans, no press.

Just the two of them, dancing and kissing with one singular goal.

All I need is your love tonight.

—

“Here’s your check! Thank you for joining us tonight!” The waiter smiles, setting down the black booklet as Lando quickly swipes it from the table.

Whining, Y/n waves her card around, “Lando, when are you going to let me pay? I don’t think I’ve paid a single time we’ve been together.”

He smiles at her mischievously, “Exactly.”

She rolls her eyes, “Lando,”

He eyes her as he scribbles onto the receipt, “Y/n,”

She scoffs, sitting back in her chair with a huff.

When he’s done, he gives her a sympathetic look before reaching across the table and grabbing her hand, “How about next time we get coffee you pay for your own?”

She looks away from him with a failing suppressive smile, “That’s like five dollars, Lan! You’ve probably spent thousands in the time we’ve been together.”

He shakes his head, “Doesn’t matter.”

Her face scrunches up, “Yes, it does!”

He’s about to rebuttal, but the screeching of people close to them takes their soft eyes off the other.

A mixed group of girls and boys stop at their table, smiling brightly at the two drivers. One of them stands in the middle, phone clutched to her chest as she asks, “Can we get a picture?”

Lando looks to Y/n, searching for approval, but she’s not looking at him. He watches her face light up, smiling big at the fans in front of them as she gets up from her chair.

“Yeah, of course!” She laughs, a sound so light and delicate, it makes Lando’s heart clench in his chest. He never saw the way she acted around fans, having been isolated from them in the times they were together. However, now, as he stays put in his chair and stares on, he adores the way she adores them.

His hands clasped in his lap, Lando sits motionlessly. He can’t take his eyes off the woman who is very clearly making this group’s year. They all stare at her as if she held the moon in their hands, a present from her to them. There’s a simple sparkle in their eyes as she takes pictures with each of them, a simple sparkle that tells him just how much these kids look up to her.

He’s enamored by her, just like they are. For different reasons, though.

“Lan, are you going to get up?” She giggles, hitting his arm and reminding him of the task at hand.

The group stares at him, not the same way they had stared at her notably. He can tell they value him, they’re excited by him, but they aren’t starstruck by him.

He can live with that, though. He gets what it’s like to become speechless over something so beautiful.

After a few more clicks of the camera, the supposed couple sits back down in their seats, but Y/n doesn’t let the fans leave yet. He watches as they brighten at her starting conversation with them.

He loves this. He loves he-

“I have to say, I was so surprised when I found out you two were together.” One of the girls in the group interrupts his questionable internal dialogue. He’s relieved, however. He can’t be thinking that way.

He can’t be feeling that way.

He isn’t.

Y/n tilts her head up at them, “Yeah?”

The group nods and one of the boys speaks up, “Yeah, you two, like, hated each other.”

Everyone laughs, Y/n sitting back in her chair as Lando watches her take the statement easily, “Well, we didn’t hate each other. We did love each other, just didn’t know how to deal with it.”

Her eyes meet his and, for a moment, Lando wonders if she truly means it or if she’s signaling for him to add on.

He goes with adding on, “Yeah, definitely. Who could hate her?”

You could, she thinks. You do, she thinks.

The words sink her heart to her stomach. A reality so crushing, she hates to entertain it. When this is all over, he’ll go back to hurting her with jabs that attack her self-confidence and she’ll be left to hang on to the man he had been when they were “together”.

She doesn’t want to go back to hating him, yet she’s scared she will. She doesn’t want to go back to knowing who he truly is at his core, yet she’s scared she will.

She doesn’t want to go back to knowing what he truly thinks of her, yet she’s scared she will.

By the time she returns to the conversation, the fans are simultaneously thanking them for their time and kindness. Leaving them alone, Lando stands from the table and checks the bill once more. Y/n grabs her bag, “Why’re you checking it again?”

He looks up at her as his pointer finger lingers on the paper, “Oh, just calculating what you’ll owe me when this is all said and done. You know, when we go back to hating each other’s guts.”

He says it jokingly, she can tell he’s teasing as he laughs it off, holding her hand gently as he leads her out of the restaurant. But, none of that stops the way she exhales a deep breath, a sigh that carries so much pain, she wonders where it came from.

Lando used to mean nothing to her, or so she thought.

Had he always meant everything?

—

Silverstone is supposed to be a fun race for Lando. It’s one of his favorites on the calendar. Although, that joy is rapidly tanking as he races quickly around the track, smoke emitting from behind him and filling the air, filling his helmet. He coughs harshly as he rushes into his radio, “Was that a crash?! Who is it?! Are they okay?! Is it on fire?! There’s smoke.”

There’s panic in his voice, knowing regardless of who it is, he’ll be worried.

Andrea’s silent on the other line, heightening Lando’s concerns.

“Andrea! What’s going on? Can you hear me?”

“I can hear you.” Andrea responds immediately.

Lando rounds a corner before he speaks back, confusions drenching his tone, “Okay, so who was that? Are they okay?”

Andrea is monotone, “I don’t know if they’re okay right now.”

Lando’s heart drops, “Oh, no, who was it? Was it one of the Williams? A Ferrari? Maybe a Haas?”

Again, Andrea doesn’t answer him and Lando is about to press him further when he reaches the crash site once more. Eyes trained on the color of the car, the words “Red Bull” hit him hard.

Andrea waits for the anxiety to kick in on the other line, fully prepared to talk him down as he watches for any updates on the crash.

“IT’S A FUCKING RED BULL! IS IT Y/N? ANDREA, IS IT Y/N?” He screams, voice shaking as he begins to slow down, cars passing him by and making him lose positions.

Andrea watches the decline of Lando’s car in the race standings, head falling as he realizes no information about Y/n will come quick enough to make him get back in the race.

Calmly, he responds, “I am not sure who it is yet.”

He hears Lando groan aggressively, “Bullshit! Is it her?!”

His yelling can be heard throughout the entire wall, everyone giving side glances to Andrea over the man who is currently screaming.

“Lando, I promise you, if I knew who it was, I would tell you.” Andrea gives, voice pleading.

It’s quiet for a moment, the only thing heard being the sounds of Lando’s heavy breathing. Solemnly, Andrea watches a camera zoom in past the smoke and center the number of the car in the frame.

Y/n’s car.

Clicking the button, Andrea speaks to Lando, “I can confirm it is Y/n’s car. No knowledge of if she’s gotten out of the car or not.”

Again, there’s silence before Lando’s hand smacks his steering wheel and he lets out a noise filled with anguish, “Please, tell me when you find out.”

Torturously, Lando passes by her car at every turn, watching only for a second as people work to try and get her out of the car.

Andrea watches in horror as a group of men lift her from the car, her body limp and unmoving as they run her to the safety car.

“She’s out of the car.” He murmurs to Lando, praying the boy won’t ask more questions.

He does, “Good! That’s good! By herself or did she need aid?”

The sound of Andrea’s heavy sigh kills Lando, “No, not by herself. She needed help.”

“How much help?”

Silence.

Lando yelps, “ANDREA! TELL ME WHAT’S GOING ON RIGHT FUCKING NOW! THIS IS MY FUCKING GIRLFRIEND! HOW MUCH FUCKING HELP?”

“She’s not moving.”

Lando doesn’t say anything, his mind racing as his eyes water.

Finally, he speaks, “I need to retire the car.”

Andrea and the rest of the pit wall turn to look at each other with outraged stares, “What? No, Lando. The car’s perfectly fine. The pace is great, no dam-”

Lando interrupts Andrea with a broken voice, “The car’s not the reason we need to retire the car. It’s the driver. It’s me.”

Everyone can hear it in the way his voice cracks, he’s crying, knowing he can’t see through it. It’s a danger, it truly is, and that forces Andrea and the team to comply with Lando’s demands.

When he parks in the garage, he clampers out. Shoving engineers, Andrea, his dad, Zak, and anyone else who gets in his way or tries to talk to him, Lando sprints over to the medical center. On his way, he loses his mind over the possibility that she might not be there, already at the hospital, or she will be there, but just her lifeless body.

He’s still drenched in sweat, the amount doubling from his running, when he gets there. Lando pushes past the people who stand at the front, not giving them time to tell him he can’t come in. He hears them call out in opposition, but he’s already in and he just doesn’t care.

There’s no time to address the feelings swirling in his stomach that feel ten times what he had felt for any of his past girlfriends. There’s no time to talk about the way he cries over the image of her burning car or her unconscious body being pulled from it. There’s no time to talk about the fact that, last year, he wouldn’t have acted this crazed over her accident. There’s no time to talk about the fact that, now, he’s fully prepared to brawl with anyone that dares to stand in his way of finding her.

There’s no time because he’s reaching her door and flinging it open. There are nurses beside her conscious figure, tending to the scratches and cuts she has from the car’s debris. Even with the bloodied bandages, Lando smiles at her smiling at him.

When she sees him, her arm reaches out for him without thinking. He takes long strides to get to her even in the small room and, when he does, he grabs her hand.

Kneeling down on the floor beside her, he squeezes her hand, “You okay?”

She nods, “Will be.”

“That’s good enough for me.” He whispers, nurses glancing at each other before exiting the room at the intimacy flowing between the two.

They really were selling this.

Suddenly, Y/n’s eyebrows knit together as her gaze lifts to the clock on the wall, “Wait, Lan, the race is still going. Did you crash?”

He shakes his head, eyes averting from hers, “No, I retired the car.”

Her other hand reaches to turn his gaze back to hers, holding his jaw softly as he smiles at her, “Why?” She whispers.

“Because I needed to make sure you were okay.”

The truth hangs in the air painfully.

They can’t speak of what that means or what that alludes to. They can’t speak of the way he clutches onto her hand as if she’ll go away. They can’t speak of the way he raced over here, throwing important people to the side in a state of pure panic. They can’t speak of the way they stare at each other, yearn for each other in a way that goes against every rule they agreed to when this started.

All they can do is kiss each other sweetly and lie.

Lie to themselves about what will happen after it’s over; lie to themselves about how much they truly care for each other; lie to the PR teams and tell them nothing is developing between them, that it’s safe to continue this.

And, most of all, later, when Zak asks Lando why he has lip gloss smudged against his mouth, they must lie.

—

“Can you zip me up?” Y/n turns around in the car, her back to Lando as her dress hangs open slightly at the top.

He nods, fingers delicate against her skin as he glides against it, trailing the cool metal up. His hands finish on her shoulders, slowly rubbing softly as she begins to lean against him.

“Lan, that feels good.” She mumbles, words slurred from the way his fingers work the knots under her skin.

Her body lies fully on him, his mouth by her ear as they wait to get to their destination. He continues to massage her, whispering random things in her ear about errands they need to run or complete tomorrow.

With her eyes closed and relaxed state, Lando admires how safe she feels around him. Five months ago, Y/n wouldn’t have dared to let him touch her in the way he was, in the way he had over the past two months, however things had changed. For better or for worse, Lando still wasn’t sure.

The driver in the front eyes them questionably, having witnessed the change in their dynamic over their months together.

With her body still limp against him, the car stops in front of the gala’s entrance. Photographers scream beyond the door and flashes of cameras blind them even as they sit behind the glass.

Looking at her and taking her hand in his, Lando whispers, “Ready?”

She nods, “Always.”

A man opens their door, the volume erupting as Lando steps out, his hand clutching Y/n’s as she follows suit. Immediately, they’re pulled into multiple pictures. Lando’s arm finds its home around her waist with Y/n’s hand resting on his chest, a couple so perfect for each other. Their endeavor had been so incredibly successful, both their teams’ PR divisions were pleasantly surprised. Lando looks on at her, a radiant smile gracing her face as she speaks to one of the reporters on the carpet, and hates the feeling of knowing how close the end is.

In just a few weeks, they’ll be sitting down to write a small paragraph, one that will be posted to their Instagram stories as it tries to sum up the romance they thought they had.

At night, he tries to think of words to describe the moments he’s had with her and, every time, he comes up empty.

Her laughing at the journalist’s joke makes him come to the conclusion there will never be a time where he can gather syllables to explain how undeniably perfect she is.

How he got to the place of being able to address how wonderful she was? Lando had an inkling it was because of the way she made his heart pound and hands sweat.

🏎️

Lando and Y/n easily make their rounds throughout the room, greeting sponsors and potential ones with their hands clasped together. It’s obvious how charming they are together, obvious when random strangers are flipping open their checkbooks at the sight of them. Lando knows it’s all her with her thoughtful sentences and engaging demeanor.

He’s a side piece and he’s okay with that, only okay with it when he’s her side piece.

They’re in the midst of sharing a new drink they decided to try, giggles shared between them as they pass the glass between each other. They had started doing this ages ago, when they first grew closer to one another. In order to make these events go by quicker, they started trying all the items on the alcoholic menu they had never heard before. Some of his favorite memories of her had taken place when she tried something she didn’t like and almost spit it out at him.

“I think this one’s good! What’s it called again? Something sexual, right?” She asks as he takes another swig.

Lando shakes his head, grin on his face as he lifts the drink up to their eye level, “I forgot, but it must be cum something. Sure does look like cum.”

Her mouth falls open and she screeches, “Lando!”

He falls over onto the table beside them, laughing, “What? You don’t swallow?”

She joins him in laughter, “You wish you knew.”

Of fucking course, he thinks.

“Lando?” A voice from his past calls from behind them.

Lando’s heart drops, turning around and seeing Luisinha.

“Hey, Lu!” She moves to hug him, squeezing him lightly before letting her eyes drift to the girl quietly standing with him.

“Hi, Y/n.” She speaks, smiling softly as she hugs her.

Luisinha giggles before looking between the two, “I assume I need to be reintroduced to you. Before, you were Y/n, driver for Red Bull. Now, you’re Y/n, Lando’s girlfriend.”

Y/n nods, a gesture that looks to come so easy to her, Lando wishes it was real.

They hug again, chuckling at the situation before Luisinha directs her attention back to her ex-boyfriend, “It’s nice to see you, Lan! All those nights spent on the phone just aren’t the same as seeing you in person.”

Y/n loses her breath over Lu’s words, gaze drifting immediately to Lando and watching as he nods along.

“Yeah! Seriously, talking to you over the phone isn’t enough.”

His response, easy and light, crushes her.

Y/n steps in closer, “Sorry, um, you two still talk?”

Luisinha looks to Lando, intrigue in her eyes as she searches him. Lando, the boy stuck between his past and present, realizes his mistake.

He shakes his hands, “No, I mean- Yes, but it’s not like that, Y/n.”

Luisinha stays silent as she watches Y/n try to keep her composure, “When was the last time you talked?”

Lando can’t bring himself to answer, so Lu does for him, feeling for the girl in between them, “Last night.”

He watches Y/n’s face slowly process the information. It’s as if reality comes crashing down on her, a harsh moment that reminds her of what they are to each other at the end of the day.

Y/n nods, smiling at the two before beginning to walk back, “I need a minute, sorry.”

Lu watches Lando long for her, momentarily wishing Y/n would just understand how much he feels for her, and Luisinha, finally, gets a wave of closure. She understands now why they broke up. When he ended it, Lando had told her he loved her more as a friend, something that broke her, yet, now, she understands why she had been so confused. Originally, she thought he did love her, he just been too afraid to tell her the real reason for their separation, but, as she stares at the pooling in his eyes, she sees a look she never got.

A look of intense love.

She nudges his arm, “Don’t let her get away.”

He nods at her, running off in the direction Y/n had left, eyes searching for her in the sea of people.

🏎️

Lando catches sight of her gorgeous y/h/c hair off in a small hallway of the hotel. He jogs over, her back to him, and lays a soft hand over her shoulder.

She stiffens, refusing to turn around and meet his eyes. However, his voice coaxes her, “Y/n, look at me.”

As much as she tries not to, she does and it breaks her further.

Her watery eyes and lost head tilt are a stab to Lando’s heart, her choked up voice speaking, “So, you were talking to her the entire time we were doing this?”

He’s at a loss, knowing that’s the perfect truth, yet knowing it isn’t fully, “Yes, but it doesn’t mean what you think it means.”

Her body jerks away from him and the anger he was usually greeted with returns, “Oh?! Then, what does it mean, Lando?! Because it looks like I meant fucking nothing to you! I know it isn’t in my head! I know what’s happened between us isn’t just some people getting over the hatred they had for each other! I thought you felt that way too!”

“I do!” He yells back, frustration at her obliviousness getting to him.

Tears leak down her face, “Then, why did you spend the entirety of this talking to your ex! Why’d you agree to this if you still love your ex?!”

Lando groans, “I don’t love my ex! I don’t love Lu! I love you!”

Her tears fall harder, “Do you? How could someone love another person they used to loathe?!”

Lando shakes his head, overwhelmed at what’s going on in his brain, “It just happened, Y/n! You think I thought this would happen?! No, I didn’t!”

Y/n resigns, quiet taking over other than their heavy breathing, “I don’t believe you.”

His annoyance takes over, “Well, then I don’t know what to tell you.”

I want you to tell me why you love me, she thinks. I want to know where your hate turned to love, she thinks.

Those things go unsaid.

Instead, she huffs, “I think this has gotten too out of hand. I think we need to end this arrangement early.”

She sees the unmistakable sadness etched into his face, “How early?”

“Like, tonight.” She whispers, protecting herself from the world of hurt that would be being loved by him. She isn’t Luisinha, she isn’t a model or breathtaking woman. She’s a girl who fell in love with a “boy’s” sport, a girl who has seen the flaws within herself and tried, desperately, to change them, rewrite them. She never does, although. She always comes out the same on the other side.

The truth catches up with her and images of the beautiful women Lando has had in his bed fill her mind. How does she know this isn’t some elaborate prank to get her vulnerable and then humiliate her out of the resentment he holds against her and the situation she got him in?

Lando musters up some sort of guard, distaste returning after its five month long hiatus, “Fine. I’ll let McLaren know. This works anyway. You served your purpose, got my reputation back to where it was before you came in and fucking destroyed it. You ruin everything, you know that, Y/n?”

She nods, cries intensifying at what she had been afraid of: his hatred for her returning after getting to know a side of him so tender.

“Got it, Lando.” She whispers, slinking past him and out of the building.

He watches her walk away, confused at how he had confessed his love for her and ended it by telling her she was destructive.

She isn’t. How could he say that?

How could he tell the one woman who had built him up that she had tore him down? How could he let frustrated anger replace the love he had for her?

How could he let her get away?

A/N: TUMBLR GLITCHED OUT AND WAS CRACKING DOWN AT HOW LONG THIS WAS SO I WILL MAKE A PART TWO WITH A HAPPY ENDING I PROMISE

silver spring | coriolanus snow

Description: Coriolanus Snow knows that he shouldn't have ended up this way. He knows that he was destined to be something better. The woman sleeping beside him is a testament of his reckoning, Lucy Gray is a ghost that he tries to forget. (Snow and Reader's marriage told through the cold beliefs of Coriolanus.)

Pairing: young-president!coriolanus snow/wife!reader

Warning: childbirth, major character death, angst, snow is haunted by lucy gray's memory.

"Time cast a spell on you But you won't forget me." - Fleetwood Mac.

[...] He was glad about the erasure. It was just another way to eliminate Lucy Gray from the world. The Capitol would forget her, the districts barely knew her, and District 12 had never accepted her as their own. In a few years, there would be a vague memory that a girl had once sung in the arena. And then that would be forgotten too. Goodbye Lucy Gray, we hardly knew you.

"Are you alright?" you cleared your throat seeing him in deep thought. There was always something mysterious inside the man that you married - he was always deep in thought. "You came to visit?" he seemed disinterested in what you had to say. "I-they told me that you didn't eat dinner yet," you managed to choke out.

He was very clear and precise. He told you that he couldn't stand you - that he hated you, and it was the very reason that you were wed.

An amused chuckle exits his mouth. "Aren't there more important things to have your attention?" he raised an eyebrow, staring at you up and down with that incredulous stare.

You seemed to amuse him - to some extent.

"- like running our household or gossiping with your friends." he mused, returning back to his paperwork. His statement made you feel awry, you were never the one to listen to gossip - the suggestion that you should do that only cemented the fact that he didn't know you - didn't bother enough to know you. "I was worried that you'd starve without dinner." you took another step forward.

He shakes his head.

"I will not die without dinner." he scoffed - dismissing you.

It was late at night when Coriolanus stumbled inside your room. By then, he could hardly make out the outline of your body on the bed.

He couldn't believe that the woman he hated - had finally become his wife. "Coriolanus," you mumbled - eyes trying to adjust with the dim light. "Did I wake you?" he removed his jacket, surprised at his tone. "N-No," you stuttered. A meek prey against him.

You moved slightly, leaving him enough space to lay beside you.

Coriolanus was surprised that you slept that quick - though, perhaps he was also thankful. He didn't want to create a reason for small talk. Your purpose in his life wasn't to be loved - it was to create children, and to strengthen his political prowess.

The moment he set his eyes on you - he vowed to never love or care for you. He couldn't afford to love again. He knows what love feels like - Lucy Gray manipulated him, both body and soul. Until now he doesn't know if she is truly dead. He wishes that she is.

He is snapped away from his thoughts again.

This time, you wrap your arms around him. His eyes widen in surprise, he opens his mouth to speak but he relents seeing your sleeping figure.

He may hate you, but it does not stop him from finding you beautiful.

It was a few months later when he sees you again - this time with good news. "They tell me that our child is the size of a small ball." you smiled, reaching for his hand and placing it on your stomach. This was one of the few moments where he showed his love. You were sat on his lap, almost inhaling his scent at the proximity.

It was all for show, you thought. He had guests in the courtyard, and they could see you from the window.

"I've thought of names, but I wanted you to choose too." you continued, licking your pink lips. Oh, Coriolanus wanted nothing than to kiss those lips right now - but alas, his ambition ruled him. "What are they?" he continued rubbing your belly.

"Brutus, if it is a boy and Lucy-"

"No, not Lucy. Something else." he demanded, interrupting you. "Josephine," you quickly replace and he nods.

"- but if there are other names that you prefer, you may choose." you stared deep into his eyes. "You bleed, you decide." he whispered, his hands trailing up to your neck. "Kiss me," he suddenly demanded.

"What?" your eyebrows merged into each other.

"There's people watching, kiss me."

And you obeyed him.

"As pure as the driven snow," you mumble while soothing the pain in your stomach. "What did you say?" Coriolanus raised an eyebrow. "Our child is as pure as the driven snow," you repeated - almost seeing his face in a dream. "Where did you come up with that?" he chuckled, slowly used to your company.

"You mumbled it in your sleep." you responded, continuing to write on your journal. "Well, I can't remember saying that anymore." he shrugged, feeling paranoia gnaw at his bones.

Lucy Gray, let me live.

"It sounds familiar, it's from that tribute - I watched her then, but its been so long I can't even remember." you chuckled, Lucy Gray Baird, the songbird from District 12.

You were enamored by her - intrigued by her voice. Your husband seems to be the same. "Is that why you wanted to name our child Lucy?" he questioned, her name tasted bitter on his tongue. "No, of course not - you'd never approve." you scoffed.

"Why wouldn't I? I don't know Lucy Gray personally." he lied once more, maintaining his narrative. "You told me that the Games were created to remind the Districts of what they are - animals." you remembered, not fully believing his speech. "You would hate me if I named our child after an ... well, someone that you hate."

"Good, and don't mention Lucy Gray ever again." his eyes narrowed.

vettel reincarnate * fem!driver

after retiring from formula 1 at the end of the 2022 season, f1 legend sebastian vettel realised a while after the announcement that he would miss the paddock way too much. instead of taking back his announcement, he pairs up with an up-and-coming driver and gets her a seat in a race car in formula 1.

this is SOOO heavily inspired by @sebscore and also @thepersonnamedsam (i was doing some research how to start and came across theirs too) and i'm lOVING IT!!

i wanted there to be a twist that didn't make it seem like it's an outright copy, so there it is! do feel free to send in requests here or questions!!

if there are too many similarities and/or copies, do drop me a message to let me know so i can address them </3

do take note that these are written in no particular order, just based on requests and scenarios sent in or that i come up with!

- about fem!driver

❧ get to know her

a short summary on fem!driver

❧ headcanons

headcanons of fem!driver with the grid / her life

- 2023

❧ for the girls

she isn't worrying about being on track for the first time - she worries about the media

❧ the new hires

still skeptical about roaming by herself on a race weekend, oscar and logan pick her up from her garage before media commitments

❧ fly on the wall

she crashes in her third race of her f1 career, but she's more concerned about its repercussions than the concussion

❧ family day

her siblings are in attendance for her race, wreaking havoc wherever their sister steps foot in

❧ best dress

when pictures circulate on instagram of her on a night out in her best dress, the guys start to get curious who she’s out and about with on a saturday night

Lacy (LN4)

Summary: To the song “Lacy” by Olivia Rodrigo, that should explain it I feel like

Warnings: language, angst, sad sad sad

Note: I think this wasn’t the best I could do so if y’all want a part 2 let me know bc i feel like i could redeem myself

Lacy, oh, lacy, skin like puff pastry. Aren’t you the sweetest thing on this side of hell? Dear angel lacy, eyes white as daisies, did I ever tell you that I’m not doing well?

Luisinha’s eyes twinkled as they stared up at Lando, Y/n huddled in the corner as she analyzed the girl. Lists upon lists of things she had that Y/n didn’t plagued her mind, tormenting every thought and destroying the little bit of self confidence Y/n had left. It was cruel, how sweet and perfect Luisinha was. There was no reason to hate her or criticize her, pick her apart until Y/n felt better about herself. That was the worst part, the thing that hurt the most. It wasn’t the fact that Luisinha possessed the one thing Y/n had yearned for for years before or the fact that Luisinha was loved by everyone. No, it was the fact that, when Y/n lay awake at night, she couldn’t blame anyone else for her mistake other than herself. It was gutting and tiring, but the knowledge that Luisinha was completely innocent, ironically, made Y/n hate her more.

Somebody’s arm brushing up against hers pulled her out of her deep thoughts, her head turning around to see who had taken up the space. When her eyes met that of Lando’s Australian teammate, she smiled.

“They’re cute, yeah?” Oscar chuckled, mistaking her staring for adoration rather than what it truly was; jealousy.

Nodding, Y/n tilted her head as if she really cared about the conversation, “Yeah, for sure. Never seen Lando happier.”

The words were bitter, admitting outwardly that she had never, and probably would never, be the reason for that specific smile on his face.

Oscar took a sip of his water as he looked on at the couple, “Don’t even know how she fell in love with him.”

The world went quiet for a moment as Y/n’s eyes frantically turned to sear into the side of Oscar’s face, “What?”

Her tone made his eyebrows furrow in confusion and the look on her face had him shaking his head, “Did Lando not tell you? They said ‘I love you’ like a week ago?”

Her body went numb, the information hitting her so hard it felt like the air had been taken from her lungs. As if things couldn’t get harder, Lando’s arm wrapped tightly around his girlfriend as he kissed her, very clearly lovesick. She felt stupid. Partially stupid for allowing the deepest part of her to think they would have a chance to be even remotely close to what he had with Luisinha, and the other part being stupid for not seeing how gone he was for her.

It was right in front of her, that part was chilling, but the other part that had her heart sinking was the fact that Lando had forgotten to tell her such big news.

Another thing added to the list of things Y/n didn’t have that Luisinha did; Y/n was forgettable, Luisinha wasn’t.

—

Oh, I care, I care, I care. Like perfume that you wear, I linger all the time. Watching, hidden in plain sight. And, oh, I try, I try, I try, but it takes over my life, I see you everywhere. The sweetest torture one could bear.

Y/n was shivering, the coat she wore not enough to keep her warm in the cold Monaco weather. She checked her phone once more, trying to spot any message from Lando saying he would be there soon, but she came up empty every time.

The hostess, with a look of pity, eyed her from inside the restaurant, the table for two under the name of “Y/n” for the reservation taunting her as she realized what she was witnessing. However, the hostess thought it was Y/n’s boyfriend standing her up, not her best friend who had most likely forgotten about the dinner because he was with his girlfriend.

It took Y/n the next few minutes to pull herself together, coming to terms with the fact that he wasn’t going to answer his phone after the countless messages she had sent him asking when he was going to show up to the dinner they had planned weeks ago.

With her head hung low, she went back into the establishment, muttering words to the woman at the front about canceling her reservations and apologizing for the inconvenience. Before Y/n could turn around and sulk home, however, the hostess reached out and grabbed Y/n’s hand gently. With a small smile, she whispered, “I’m sure there’s a good reason as to why he didn’t show, don’t lose hope just yet. I’m sure he loves you very much. You’re a very beautiful girl, anyone would be lucky to have you.”

Nodding, Y/n didn’t look up from her feet as she thanked the woman and left. The reassurance the woman had intended to be comforting destroyed her just a bit more, resulting in controlled tears falling from her face as she rounded corners and crossed streets.

Whilst waiting for the crosswalk to turn green, Y/n pulled out her phone. Instagram was the first app she clicked, proving to be a wrong decision when she saw Lando had posted on his story. Painfully, it was a picture of him and Luisinha at his house with dinner on their laps. Ashamed of how hurt she was, she tried to convince herself that being mad at him was unnecessary. Her feelings were a product of her longing, something he couldn’t be blamed for. Nevertheless, she couldn’t help, but feel abandoned. Years of friendship down the drain as he got distracted with someone else, someone who gave him more than she could. Luisinha granted him connections to parts of the entertainment industry that could help to grow his companies, gain access to new opportunities.

She tried to convince herself she was happy for him, but that secured feeling never truly came even after she got home.

Looking at her phone once more with no response from Lando, she went to bed.

Or, at least, laid in bed. Previously mentioned nights of staying up to blame herself returning.

—

Smart, sexy Lacy. I’m losing it lately. I feel your compliments like bullets on skin. Dazzling starlet, Bardot reincarnate. Well, aren’t you the greatest thing to ever exist. Oh, I care, I care, I care. Like ribbons in your hair, my stomach’s all in knots. You got the one thing that I want. Oh, I try, I try, I try, try to rationalize people are people, but it’s like you’re made of angel dust.

Nights like these were supposed to be fun. Max, Y/n, and Lando all staying out into the late hours of the nights, drinking and dancing in random clubs around the city. However, this time it proved to be bittersweet as Lando informed the group Luisinha planned to tag along.

Y/n’s smile was fake, of course, but she was prepared to plaster it on for the rest of the night if it meant Lando’s good mood was preserved. Of course, Luisinha had shown up in a designer dress that hugged her body in all the right ways. Her smile was showstopping as she hugged Y/n, whispering to her about how gorgeous she looked.

“Thank you. That’s very sweet. You look very pretty as well.” Y/n got out painfully, wanting nothing to do with the woman in front of her.

“Doesn’t she?” Lando butt in as if he was trying to drive the knife deeper in Y/n’s heart. Safe to say, he was successful.

She chuckled dryly when he started waving his arms animatedly around, shouting, “Gorgeous! Impeccable! Breathtaking!”

It was a wonder Y/n didn’t break down right then. Shades of betrayal dousing out the fire in her eyes, the life in her body, as her mind forced her to take a look back on all the times she had thought Lando loved her as much as she did him. The time when he drove to her house in the middle of the night because she got a stomach bug and was throwing up; the time when he pretended to be her boyfriend so a random man at a bar would stop making her feel uncomfortable; the time when he had opened up to her about his mental health struggles, finishing it off with telling her how much he loved her and appreciated her. That moment, out of all of them, was the worst to relive because it was in the way he said her name, the way his fingers had gripped her hand, as he told her how much he adored her whole being. His tone had made it sound as if a real love declaration was the cusp of his lips, although those specific words never came. Instead, it was a quiet silence as he waited for her to respond and she waited for him to tell her everything she had ever wanted to hear. Y/n had locked that memory away in her mind, it being too crushing to bounce around in her mind like the others did. So, when it came up as he yelled around in front of her about how beautiful his girlfriend was, she was pushed over the edge.

Suddenly, her dress felt too tight and she became too aware of the tips of her fingers touching the tops of her thighs. She no longer wanted to go out and hang out with people whom she wanted to forget about. But, the cruelty of the world seemed to be targeting her as an opportunity to bail on their plans never came, and she was forced to listen to Luisinha’s giggling after Lando whispered something in her ear.

No amount of alcohol could cure the putrid taste of unrequited love, she knew that, but that didn’t stop her from trying. Shots on shots of vodka riddled the booth they had reserved in the back of the club. She didn’t want to dance, didn’t want to talk, she just wanted to sulk in her thoughts and allow herself to wallow in self pity.

Y/n was a fun drunk, but, that night, she was messy and sloppy, the complete opposite of what she knew Lando wanted. Luisinha had gotten tipsy; Luisinha had twirled around on the dance floor gracefully as if she couldn’t mess a single thing up; Luisinha had done everything right while Y/n tormented herself for being nothing like that. She couldn’t get out of her own head, clearly being too far gone alcohol-wise to think straight.

“Maybe you should slow down?” Max tried, coaxing the glass out of her hand when she had accidentally sloshed the liquid onto his lap.

Groaning and rolling her eyes, Y/n grabbed her bag, “You’re no fun. I’m going to find someone else.”

Max shook his head, reaching out to grab her wrist, knowing Lando would kill him if he left Y/n alone like this, but she was too quick for him, disappearing into the crowd in a millisecond.

He shouted for her, eyes scanning the herd of people, before going to check outside, but he continuously came up empty. The situation became even worse when Lando came back to their table, Luisinha in tow, with furrowed eyebrows.

“Where’s Y/n?” He quizzed, his gaze falling on a frantic Max.

“She left.” He said as his eyes failed to meet Lando’s.

There was a silence before Lando tried again, “I’m sorry, what?”

Max scoffed, “Lando, she left. I don’t know where she went and, no matter how hard I try, I can’t find her anywhere.”

Luisinha, being the angel she was, began looking around the club as if she could find Y/n in the spots Max had already looked.

“Did you call her?” Lando asked, pulling out his phone and clicking her contact.

It rang, continued to ring, until it clicked and he was met with an eerie quiet.

“Y/n? Where are you?” He asked softly.

Rustling and heels clacking was all he heard before her slurred words were saying, “I’m walking home.”

He shook his head immediately, grabbing his keys and nodding to Luisinha and Max, telling them he was going to go pick her up.

“No way, Y/n. Your house is so far from here on foot. Let me come get you and I can drive you home, how about that?”

She didn’t have much of a choice considering he was already outside of the club and unlocking his car, but that didn’t get through to her, “No, Lando. I don’t want to see anyone right now, especially you.”

His foot stepped on the gas, driving toward her house and hoping to find her on his way there, “What’s that supposed to mean?”

He knew never to reason with a drunk, but she had been so distant lately, he couldn’t help it. He wanted to know what had happened to his best friend and the relationship they once shared.

Y/n huffed, “I don’t want to talk about it.”

Continuing down the road he was on, he saw, in the distance, a black, shimmering dress, similar to the one he knew Y/n had worn that night. Sure enough, as he got closer, he saw her braced against a light post as she tried to take off her heels. Her hair was messy, eyes stained black with her smeared mascara, and, if Lando had to guess, she had been crying.

When he pulled up next to her, she scoffed loudly, “God, you can’t just leave me alone, huh? I said I didn’t want to see you, Lando. Leave me the fuck alone.”

He was visibly taken aback by her hostile nature, but, nevertheless, tried to get her in the car.

“Get in the car, Y/n. You shouldn’t be out here alone when you’re this drunk.” He unlocked the doors and got out of the car, walking towards her only for her to take a step back.

“I don’t want to get in the car with you. Go back to Luisinha.” She was practically spitting her words, aggression dripping off every syllable.

Lando groaned, reaching out for her once more, but just missing her, “Stop being stubborn, Y/n. Get in the car and I’ll drive you home.”

Finally, her fuse having run out, she shouted, “NO.”

Lando’s arms flew out beside him, “Ok, why?!”

She threw her shoe at his legs and, if they hadn’t been so disappointed in the way their partnership had turned out, they would’ve laughed.

“Why’d you never tell me you and her said ‘I love you’?” She stopped, putting her hands on her hips as her anger took a new look, quiet and controlled.

He blinked at her, “Who told you that?”

“It doesn’t matter, Lando. Why?” She shrugged, staring blankly at him.

He looked away from her, hesitant to answer with the truth. His change in attitude allowed Y/n to continue, “What about last week when you didn’t show up for dinner?”

He shook his head, “What dinner?”

Her jaw dropped and she began laughing, “You still don’t remember? Did you look at any of my texts? Never wondered why I called you so many times last Friday night?”

He thought back, remembering he had spent that night with Luisinha, nothing about Y/n blowing up his phone. To check, he pulled the device out, looking through his messages and seeing, lost in all the other people trying to get ahold of him, was her asking where he was.

He breathed out deeply, “Shit, Y/n, I’m so sorry. I completely forgot.”

“Yeah, I’m not surprised. It’s been happening a lot lately.”

“No, don’t do that. It hasn’t.” He tried to convince her, but she seemed unimpressed.

“Alright, so then why did you forget to tell me such a pivotal moment in your relationship?” She tried again.

His head fell into his hands, shaking it side to side, before mumbling, “Because I didn’t want you to get hurt.”

“How would I get hurt?” She said it as if he was stupid and being overly cautious for no reason. The fact that she was actually hurt by it, she wouldn’t tell him.

His eyes flew up to meet hers and in a small moment of confidence, Lando stated, “Because you love me.”

The four words hung in the air, painful and so incredibly true. She tried to come up with a deflection or some sort of counterargument, but, by the way he looked at her, she knew it was no use.

Sighing, “How long have you known?”

His hand grabbed ahold of her arm, her body finally not creating more distance, “That doesn’t matter. Y/n, this doesn’t change how I see you. In fact, knowing it’s true is good because…” He trailed off, their eyes lingering on each other as they both braced themselves for what was about to be said. Y/n let out a small smile for once that night and let herself get lost in the idea of what he was about to reveal, “I lo-”

Whatever he was about to say was completely interrupted when a car pulled up next to them, the window from the backseat being rolled down and Luisinha’s face popping out.

“Good, you found her! Let’s go home. Max and I are so tired.” She gave a tight-lipped smile, unknowingly having stopped a moment that would’ve ended her relationship. Her eyes seemed to follow their movements closely as if she was suspicious of the moment she had caught them in.

Lando looked back to Y/n, an apology swimming in his eyes, but she disregarded it. Muttering incoherent words, she yanked her arm from his hold and got in his car.

Defeated, once more, by the girl she wanted to be.

—

Lacy, oh, lacy. It’s like you’re out to get me. You poison every little thing that I do. Lacy, oh, lacy. I just loathe you lately and I despise my jealous eyes, and how hard they fell for you.

Days after that night, Luisinha’s entire demeanor toward Y/n shifted. She became more antagonistic. Long gone were the sweet comments about Y/n’s appearance, in place were backhanded compliments that had more than a few people raising their eyebrows.

Everything Y/n did was scrutinized and corrected by her, making it seem as though Y/n was incompetent. Subtly mean, Y/n found her reason to hate Luisinha. It was bittersweet, truthfully. Something Y/n had wanted to feel for so long; pure annoyance at the other girl in Lando’s life, but, it also caused a rift between her and him.

Lando and Y/n, the supposed iconic duo, stopped talking. Disappearing from her so rapidly were the nights when they would go out to get food only to gossip the whole time; disappearing were the times when he would invite her out with him and Max. Suddenly, she was seeing Luisinha laughing along with Max as they sat in the same booth she had just a few weeks before on different fan accounts. Luisinha, the better version of her, had become her immediate replacement and it killed her soul. A family she once admired had been stolen from her at the hands of someone she still loved and the other a woman whom, no matter how harsh she was, Y/n would always idolize and yearn to be.

Confusing, nevertheless. Questions now kept her awake at night instead of the usual self-torment.

Wasn’t Lando about to tell her he loved her on that cold, quiet street?

If so, why would he have ousted her so easily?

Why had she given her all to someone who, seemingly, didn’t care?

But, the one thing that never left her alone, the question that agonized her the most was the one there could never be a satisfactory answer to.

Why couldn’t she be Luisinha?

Yeah, I despise my rotten mind and how much it worships you.

A/N: LMK KNOW YOUR THOUGHTS BOTH GOOD AND BAD IDK HOW TO FEEL ABT THIS ONE I HOPE YOU LIKED IT

Check Point Masterlist

Summary: She never regret leaving the world of motorsport in order to pursue her career in acting. Well, maybe she did regret it. A bit.

or

in which a highly acclaimed actress realized that coming back to a sport that she left years ago is a bad idea, considering she grew up with half of the paddock.

Pairing: Max Verstappen x actress!reader

Table of contents

00.

01.

02.

03.

Smau!

00.

"Scandalous" - Modern!Aemond Targaryen x Reader Gossip Girl/Boarding School AU - Series Masterlist (ONGOING)

Good morning, Crownlanders. Gossip Girl here giving you an exclusive look into the scandalous lives of King's Landing's elite.

Fall has arrived and with it, our favorite topics of conversation are all returning home to start the new year at Septa Maegelle's Academy for Young Ladies and Septon Barth's Academy for Young Gentlemen.

Jace and Cregan were seen arriving in the Stark family limo after spending the whole summer in Winterfell, accompanied by new student this term, Cregan's little sister, Sara. She and J seemed awfully close, which makes us wonder how that's going to go down with his long-time girlfriend, Baela.

B and her twin sister Rhaena also appear to have returned from a long holiday in Pentos with their parents, looking gorgeous as ever. It begs the question, though. J has accompanied B for every Pentos summer so far. What made this year different?

Aemond has been home all summer, mourning his break up with Floris. However, Little A was spotted going to the airport this morning, our first sighting of him all summer. What could have brought him out of hiding?

And finally? Our beloved Princess has returned home. She was deplaning her family’s jet at King's Landing International Airport with her Louis Vuitton luggage set in tow, coming home from doing some summer work for her mom's company in Sunspear alongside now-graduated bestie Helaena. But our sweet girl seems different somehow. What happened to her this summer?

And where in the world is Aegon? We miss you and your messiness, Big A.

When I find out, you'll be the first to know. You know you love me.

Xoxo,

Gossip Girl

Fandom: House of the Dragon

Main Pairing(s): Modern Aemond Targaryen x Reader

Side Pairing(s): Aegon Targaryen II x Reader, Cregan Stark x Reader, Platonic!Jacaerys Velaryon x Reader, Baela Targaryen x Jacaerys Velaryon x Sara Snow, Aemond Targaryen x Floris Baratheon

Chapter One: Dornish Holiday

Chapter Two: The Breakfast Brunch Club (Coming Soon)

Chapter Three: Petty in Pink

Chapter Four: St. Barth's Fire

Chapter Five: F(r)ight Night

More TBA...

The Coldest Truth | Thomas Shelby

masterlist

part 1 of the odd comfort series II III

summary: being born into a mafia family wasn’t your ideal path in life. thomas shelby wants you as his wife and he will get just that

pairing: modern day! thomas shelby x fem! reader

words: 3.1k

a/n: tommy is NOT canon. i altered his character to my liking for the story, though he’s pretty much the same just more sarcastic and flirty

‘Is there anyone you like?’ Your sister Chelsea stared at the ceiling, a tense atmosphere that had built up in her room over the course of an hour.

Whilst your family was upstairs being social, making deals, or establishing new connections within the community, your sister and you needed some alone time. Every once in a while you hide your precious trophies, don’t you?

‘There’s this guy Lorenzo,’ you rolled onto your stomach as you thought about him. Your cheeks glowed a pale red just thinking about his golden locks that illuminated in the sunlight. His honey-brown eyes set with a pair of long dark lashes. ‘He’s so handsome and well-mannered,’

‘He’s not English.’ Chelsea said, her eyes moving to you. ‘Father would never allow it.’

‘I know.’ You sighed, your head falling face down into the blanket.

You, the Eyrie family, were English through and through. It was better for business and people knew where their loyalties lay in case of wars breaking out. Going after an Italian man would be a suicide mission and a death sentence for him too. Organised crime families were not much different from the royal families around the world. Royals wed royals, gang members wed gang members. Both marrying for alliances, not for love.

Some high-ranking families were invited over this evening, hence why the disco music blasted through the house walls, vibrating to the heavy bass. Your father never involved you or your sister in his business keeping is strictly ‘men only’ which you were actually glad about; Sitting and talking for hours about weapons or drug exchanges, the fright that people are out to kill you at all times? No thank you (though people still wanted to kill you for being Y/n Eyrie).

The hot pink bodycon dress you decided to wear tonight made your breasts and ass look good, a favourite of yours. Your grandmother liked to disagree, blaming it on her daughter for the way you turned out. Both of them were upstairs too. They had a slightly more important role in the family and were actually allowed to get information to ease their minds about their wellbeing.

‘I’m going back upstairs.’ You muttered more to yourself than Chelsea and pushed your body off the bed, slipping your heels back on and walking downstairs, the music in your ears compelling you to dance.

Squeezing past a making out couple and a few drunk people you made it into the living room. The blue glimmering light of the outside pool illuminated the room, different coloured lights also catching your eye. But something else caught your eye. A man with dark hair stood by the railing. A cigarette pressed between his plump lips, a glass filled with some liquid in his other. His figure wrapped in a black suit that seemed tailored, arrogance dripping off of him. The way he stood told you that he had a lot of confidence in himself. He must’ve noticed someone staring at him because his eyes scanned his surroundings until they landed upon you. That’s when you realised who he was.

Your chest tightened, your pulse racing against your skin as you stared into those dangerous blue eyes. Blue eyes that did not feel warm or safe but cold as ice, distant as the sea, and so so full of greed. He had a lot of nerve showing up at an Eyrie’s doorstep, or in this case back garden.

You locked eyes with him just for a second. Your feet carried you away and brought you to the other part of the garden. Multiple tables lined the green lawned grass as you brushed past waiters carrying various cocktails. Your father was sitting at the very back. Cigar in his mouth as you neared the table and saw that he was sitting with his business partners, Jack and Ian. The two guards that stood in front of the fenced garden took a step towards each other, blocking your way when they saw you approach.

‘Move.’ You demanded. But they did not move. They didn’t bat an eye, it was like you didn’t exist.

You were about to speak again but were interrupted by your father.

‘Let her pass.’

And like Moses spoke himself, staff in his hand, they parted; letting you enter.

Rolling your eyes you walked straight past them and stood in front of them, rolling a casual hello to both Jack and Ian before setting eyes upon the boss.

‘Either we’ve been breached or you’re out of your mind.’

‘Darling, don’t take that tone with me.’ His cigar bobs up and down, his belly rising in the three piece suit he wore that cost more than most family’s income per year.

‘I’m sorry, Father but how could I not?’

He stared at you. Waiting for the very thing that would’ve made you put up a fight with the guards, that made you disrespect him in front of his trustees.

‘Why the flipping hell,’ you lowered your town and braced yourself on the table, closing in on them to make sure no one else heard what you were about to say, ‘is there a Shelby in our house?’

This must’ve been news to your father too because he stood up faster than he normally was able to and immediately hurried past the guards, Jack and Ian following him as they made their way towards the house.

Your father’s hand slipped in his gun carrier that sat on the back of his trousers and pulled out his .4, hand disappearing once more to grab the silencer and placing it over the barrel.

Heavy tension was felt when you walked past the people that were enjoying themselves for the night. The air felt too thick to inhale as you hurried behind them. The crowd of people parted smoothly down the middle, more smoother than the guards did just moments ago.

When their footsteps did come to a stop eventually, Thomas Shelby still standing at the railing, his drink now empty, his finger playing with a lighter, a small but visible smirk as he eyed everyone close to him.

He stared at your father momentarily before his eyes moved past him and instead burned into yours. A deep impenetrable connection that was only broken when you could feel the cold metal of Jack’s gun brush past you.

‘You told on me.’ He pulled down his bottom lip, his hand moving over his jaw. Bastard. ‘And here I thought I could just enjoy a simple party; drinking good whiskey, smoking until my lungs are full and maybe take you somewhere private.’ He pointed his glass at you.

A deep wave of hatred engulfed your body as you drilled holes into him. Pure disgust was dripping down off you, hidden as sweat pearls. But his eyes were full of lust and power, and they only stared at you.

Why was he here? What could’ve possibly led him to join a get together full of people that all hated him for the blithering idiot he was? The last time a Shelby and an Eyrie stood in the same room it ended in bloodshed. Who got to control Camden Town? Who got to have more men stationed in other parts of the city? Etc. In the end it didn’t matter who died in the breakout because some jewish mafia boss named, Alfie Solomons, took over every inch of Camden. It was all for nothing…men and their cocks. Whilst they got at each other’s throats, you had the pleasure (not a pleasure) of meeting Grace Burgess. Part of Thomas’ team. Well not even that, she was just his whore he’d like to call around whenever he needed her. Everyone knew her for what she was and what she did, but she was so oblivious to these facts and genuinely thought that Thomas loved the poor girl. Thomas didn’t love. That’s what he told you anyway when you sat in his living room the day the fiasco in Camden Town went down. Thomas Shelby was a charmer; a freaking good one too. You knew him for what he was yet that day something weird slithered within you. And it disgusted you that that specific day you felt anything but pure hatred for him. You didn’t know how he did it, all that it repulsed you.

Your father pulled his gun on Thomas and in a matter of seconds several guns were in the air, clicks of the weapons filling in the silence that the DJ killed minutes ago. Thomas Shelby however did not lower his hand to his gun, he simply waved over one of the waiters and grabbed another whiskey. His plump lips wrapped around the edge of the glass—my god, Y/n! Stop it!

He was your infatuation. No matter how much you hated him, you couldn’t deny his insane attractiveness. His icy blue eyes that felt just as cold, pink lips his tongue glided over when he was amused. Broad shoulders, defined chest that you could make out under the white button shirt.

You always knew you were special eye candy for men amongst your social crime class. You were a means to an end. Men swooned over you, your eyes that sparkled with innocence yet dominance, your body that was too good to be true. In a world where darkness crept from every corner and danger only one step away, in a world not meant for you, you wanted everything you couldn’t have. Love.

‘Gilbert…I can call you that right?’ Mr. Shelby raised a sarcastic eyebrow at your father, his feet strolling around the terrace. ‘We’re close friends, are we not?’

‘What do you want, Thomas.’ Your father grit through his teeth, not loosening his grip on the gun he pulled out, having every intention of killing him but holding back to get the information out of Thomas that he was teasing him with.

‘It’s no secret that we’re the most powerful families in England, United Kingdom.’ He corrected himself. He stepped closer to you and your father, but the distance was still great. If he got to close there was no way of telling if Thomas’ neck would survive your father’s hand.

‘It’s time we put our feud behind us and instead put our power to good use…’ Thomas trailed on, ‘Bring us together.’

Both you and your father shared a concerned look at each other. At the same time Chelsea joined the showdown, her face showing the same reaction before your eyes darted to more Eyrie men securing the place.

‘To unite power and power, to create an even greater power, an underground empire if you will.’ Mr. Shelby held his index finger high.

Shove it up your arse.

‘And how do you suggest we do that?’ Your father’s voice was laced with curiosity, less harsh than it was before, more interested in the proposition.

Mr. Shelby’s face fell to an amused expression. His demeanour changed. His stance straightened, his eyes caught yours. You knew what he was going to say yet you prayed with your eyes closed that for some miracle God would be on your side.

Dear Lord, I swear I’ll start praying every day if you swoop me out of this position. I’ll also stop taking drugs and I’ll—

‘I get to marry your daughter.’

Fuck. Shit. This can’t be happening. God I just asked for your help! Fuck you. Fuck.

The garden went quiet after the synchronised gaspes escaped everyone's mouth.

‘Excuse you.’ You grit through your teeth as Chelsea muttered, what the fuck.

Thomas had by now lit up another cigarette. Dragging is slow and gentle, each drag staring at your father and then you.

Your father shifted uncomfortably.

‘No way in hell am I agreeing to that. Sorry if I don’t receive your arrangement with the same courtesy, Mr. Shelby.’ Your father smiled devilishly, his fingers rubbing his nose. ‘If you’d like to leave with all body parts intact I suggest you leave immediately, though I’m sure a lot of our guests are still hungry. Raw steak perhaps?’ He threw his hands in the air with thin lips and spun around to see people’s reaction.

‘I knew you’d say that. That’s why I stormed all of your facilities and currently have every worker under your employment held at gunpoint.’

‘So you're forcing me to give you my daughter? My most valuable pawn?’

What?

You pulled your eyebrows together at what your father said. Pawn? You were a pawn before you were his daughter?

Thomas Shelby stared at you expecting you would say something but you stayed quiet. You had nothing to say as disappointment swept across your heart. He saw that. You knew that Thomas Shelby could feel your betrayal as his eyes fixated on you and your dress that was a size too small.

Desire. That’s what Thomas Shelby felt towards you. He desired every single part of his enemy's daughter. Your smooth skin that was soft to the touch. Your curves; oh how Thomas Shelby loved the way your body was shaped. Your legs, your hair, every remote thing about you, Thomas felt infatuated with. The only way to solve that is if he got you. If you were his.

Thomas Shelby stepped closer to his enemy’s front line. Daring to get close enough for physical contact.

‘You want to give your daughter to Sabini?’ He side-eyed you, a playful smile on his lips. ‘Someone who in comparison to us has no power? No sense of authority, leadership, or knows how to run a business.’

‘I have a deal with Sabini.’

What? Why am I just finding out about this now? What the fuck is happening.

‘I will offer you access to my facilities in Nottingham and will pay you seven times the amount Sabini has promised you.’

‘Can I have a say in this?’ You stared at your father who callously ignored you and whimsed you off with a waving hand.

Mr. Shelby however took a step in front of you. So close you took a step back like you were two repelling magnets. He took another deep inhalation of the hot smoke staring up at the sky whilst the filter rested on his lips.

‘You can find me to be very persistent, little mouse.’ Your stomach churned at the nickname. He lowered his head back to its original spot before coming closer, gently brushing his lips against your ear as he whispered, ‘When I see something I want, I get it. And if I don’t get it then I get very, very upset.’

A shiver ran down your spine as you both backed up. Chelsea gave you a worried look but just like your father you brushed it off. You didn’t want to make this a bigger scene even though internally your screams were howling out, trying to make a stop of the echo that continued on.

I see something I want?

Why does he want me? Is he going to use me as bait? Will I end up wrapped up in a little box as a present for all the mistakes my father had and continues to make? Was I going to be his pawn now?

Your dad hinted to Wayne, one of the bodyguards that was standing on his far left by the gates, nodding his head to close in on Thomas Shelby.

Mr. Shelby glanced at him for just a moment before reverting his attention back to your father, that aggravating smirk still on his face. How you wanted to grab it firmly and rip it off. Ugh!

‘Come to my office.’ Your father suddenly straightened up and made way for the unwanted guest that had charmed his way into his enemy’s territory. ‘We’ll discuss further details.’

You spun around speechless as they brushed straight past you. Ignoring the very thing that was in the middle of this outbreak. The only thing that you got in return was a wink from Mr. Shelby looking back at you. You didn’t want that wink.

You were left standing surrounded by many people, the back garden felt like it was closing in on you. Like air was suddenly out of reach.

All eyes were on you but you never have felt more alone. Even when Chelsea’s palm rubbed circles on your shoulder.

I am not a fan of Thomas Shelby.

‘Congrats!’ Your father gave you the fakest, least genuine smile ever as soon as you stepped into his office.

This was a big deal because no one ever in the family was allowed to step into the room. The only exception being obviously your dad, your uncles, any man that had business with your father. Your brother Sam was even banned from the room after he smoked all your father’s cigars in one night when his sneaky link Wendy came over.

The big room with black, vintage furniture felt even more unfamiliar as you took in your surroundings. Thomas Shelby standing by the desk; his hands in his pockets, nothing but a grin on his face as he lit up another cigarette.

‘What?’ You spoke louder than normal as a rush of fear washed over you.

‘You’re getting married next week.’

‘What? To Mr. Shelby?’ You crossed your arms and puffed out your lips.

‘Of course you are. Jesus. Are you as thick as your mother?’ Your father sat back in his chair with a loud thud. ‘Go pack your things.’

‘Father, I can’t marry him.’

‘The contract was signed.’

‘I can’t cook, or clean, or—‘

‘I have a maid to do that.’ Mr. Shelby chimed in unbothered as his eyes darted from you to your father.

‘I spend a lot of money, Papa.’

‘Thank god I’m the richest man in the United Kingdom and can afford your expensive taste.’ He pointed to your dress, though you could tell he was more infatuated with your breasts.

‘Bu—‘

‘Enough!’ Your father hit his wooden desk with a fist. Imaginary steam flowing from his ear. ‘You have a duty to this family and you’ll uphold this arrangement because you are an Eyrie woman!’ He raised his voice even louder. A voice that penetrated a deep fear from within your soul.

You swallowed heavily, realising that there was no way of getting out of this, so you let your face fall and gave both men a quick look before walking out of the door slowly. Hoping that maybe for some reason your father would call you back and say that this was all a big joke. But he never did. You went to your room and tried to pack up your entire life in 30 minutes. Chelsea gave you a helping hand, whilst Sam stood at the door giving you words of encouragement (murder). And once that was done your father along with your mother, Chelsea, and Sam stood in the hallway watching Thomas Shelby grab your bags and head outside of the door where your new life would start end.

— LACY

Summery: Conrad brings his girlfriend from Boston to Cousins Beach for the first time and it’s safe to say that someone isn’t happy about it. (Told in Belly’s point of view)

Paring: Conrad Fisher x Girlfriend Reader

Warnings: Belly being a bit of a bitch to reader

coming September 21

Brother's Best Friend - Part 7

Jake Seresin x F!Reader

A/N: Yay we're finally back with our favorite BBF! This chapter was inspired by a photo of Glen at an amusement park that's been floating around recently. If anyone could convince me to step foot into a haunted house, it would be Jake.

Summary: The trials and tribulations of falling for your brother's best friend.

CW: Haunted house attraction with mild (fake) gore, swearing, SLOW BURN YOU'VE BEEN WARNED DON'T COME FOR ME XD

WC: 3000+

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Masterlist

“I don’t do haunted houses,” you say when Jake makes the suggestion for the fourth time that afternoon.

He and Bradley have just returned from the river log ride completely soaked and stupidly giddy. Jake raises his eyebrows at you. “You’ll go on the tallest roller coaster in the park but you’re afraid of a couple of zombie clowns?”

You cringe. “What the fuck are zombie clowns?”

Jake shrugs. “Whatever they are. It’ll be fun.”

“You’re really selling it,” you respond dryly. “But I think I’ll stick to the funnel cake.” You nod toward the stand a few yards away.

“You already skipped out on the log ride,” Bradley complains.

You eye his still-dripping shorts with a grimace. “It’s barely 60 degrees,” you say, tugging up on the zipper of your hoodie for emphasis.

Jake plants himself across from you at the bistro table and leans into it to get your attention. “You don’t actually want to sit here by yourself for another hour, do you?”

You shrug, glancing around. “I don’t mind, actually,” you say, your gaze drifting with the crowd as you pick out the best looking males. “I got asked out twice while you two were gone.”

Jake makes a disgruntled sort of face like he’s getting impatient. “Who asked you out?” he says with a hint of distaste as though he already disapproves. He glances around at the crowd of passersby suspiciously.

“Well, they’re gone now.”

Jake lets out an irritable sigh and looks back at you. “Come on, you’re not a wimp, Bradshaw.”

You shake your head. “That’s not going to work.”

“Let’s just go, Jake,” Bradley says. “We can’t force her.”

Jake stares at Bradley. “Didn’t you hear her? She’s being approached by random men. We can’t just leave her here.”

Bradley snorts. “Why not?”

Jake appears uncomfortable, but only for a moment. He shifts his weight in the chair and turns back to you. “I distinctly remember all three of us at Castle Frankenstein like ten years ago.”

“Mm-hm,” you reply. “And, since then, I don’t do haunted houses.”

Jake grimaces. “Why not?”

You give him a flat look. “You don’t remember?”

Jake furrows his brows and shakes his head.

“Oh yeah!” Bradley exclaims. “Good times.”

You stare at your brother crossly and then roll your eyes.

Jake glances between the two of you inquisitively. “All I remember is getting hot dogs right after,” he says.

You sigh. “You two assholes told me it wouldn’t be scary and then, after luring me in, you took off laughing! You left me behind to do the whole thing by myself.”

Bradley is chuckling smugly, but Jake looks mildly horrified. “Wow, we were shitheads,” he says with a cringe.

“Dude, we’re still shitheads,” Bradley points out.

Jake looks up at his friend with a wince and then rubs his forehead guiltily. “Y/N,” he says. “I promise you that, if you come, we’re not gonna ditch you.”

“Speak for yourself,” Bradley says with a playful grin.

Jake gives him a stern look before glancing back at you. “I promise I won’t ditch you.”

You watch him skeptically, your arms folded over your chest.

“You trust me, don’t you?” he asks.

You purse your lips, trying not to be swayed by the slight squint of Jake’s eyes when he gives you a hopeful smile. You can’t help but daydream for a moment. You picture yourself being chased by zombie clowns with Jake by your side, holding your hand. And, if they’d get too close, maybe he would knock them out to keep you safe.

“Come on, sugar,” Jake says, interrupting your thoughts. He starts rising from him seat and holds out a hand for you. “We can use Bradley as a shield.”

You snort while Bradley shakes his head with a chuckle. “You can try,” he replies, starting for the haunted house.

You let out a sigh and take Jake’s hand, letting him drag you out of your chair. “I’m already regretting this decision,” you mutter.

Jake laughs. “This is gonna be fun!”

…

You gulp nervously as you step into the darkness. The moment the doors close behind you, your hand reaches out for one of the guys, making sure you're not alone. Somebody gives you a pat on the arm, silently reassuring as you advance. Suddenly, a loud bang to your right makes you jump, and you hear Jake's snicker right before he moves behind to lay a comforting hand on your shoulder.

“Wicked,” you hear Bradley say as he travels slightly ahead of you. You follow your brother with Jake close behind, probably much closer than he would be in broad daylight, especially with Bradley just a few steps away.

“Remember,” Jake mutters from behind. “If you don’t run, they won’t chase you.”

You whimper. “Who won’t chase me?”

In the sparse, flashing lights, you see your brother take off down the hallway, setting off several animatronics as he goes. You slow your pace and Jake, who is still sopping wet, walks right into you. The sudden chill of his saturated clothes takes you by surprise and you yelp, springing away from him.

Jake leaps after you to grab your arm when you nearly trip over the cadaver that falls out of the wall and right into your path. “Having fun?” he asks facetiously as he helps you regain your balance, and you can sense the grin on his face without even seeing it.

“I hate you for making me do this,” you hiss.

Jake wraps an arm around your shoulders and gives them a squeeze. “You’re doin’ great, sweet cheeks.”

You wince at the cold seeping through your shirt and wriggle out of his grasp. “Seresin, you’re all wet!”

“Sorry,” he mutters sheepishly.

Just then, a large gust of air hits you from the side and you scream, flinging yourself right back into Jake’s arms. Jake pulls you in immediately and spins you away, blocking the air current with his back. But your relief is short-lived because, out of nowhere, two clowns with melting faces come barreling toward you with their arms outstretched.

You scream and, despite the sudden weakness in your limbs, start sprinting down the dimly lit corridor, completely forgetting Jake's instructions.

Jake catches up to you quickly and when the clowns all but overtake you, he curls his arm around your waist and practically lifts you off the ground as he runs.

When you finally round the bend and lose the clowns, Jake slows down and releases you, letting you catch your breath as he places his hands on his hips and takes a look around. “That was awesome,” he says with a huge smile.

You’re still gasping for air when you look up at him with a scowl. “You’re a lunatic if you enjoyed that.”

He claps you on the back. “Don’t worry, darlin’. We’re almost half-way through.”

“We’re not even half-way done?” you whine.

Jake chuckles. “Admit it, you’re having a blast,” he says.

You whimper quietly when he motions for you to follow him down another dark hallway. “I am never letting you talk me into this nonsense again,” you grumble, staying close behind him just in case another zombie clown pops out of the shadows.

But what you do not anticipate is the vibrating floor that makes you jerk backward, nor the fog that suddenly floods the corridor, nor the alarming screams that attack from all directions, making it impossible to communicate. You feel the floorboards shift underneath your feet and you hold out your arms to stabilize yourself. You stagger backward into a wall, and it rotates behind you, further disorienting you.

“Jake?” you cry, realizing that you’ve lost him in all the commotion. But your voice is drowned out by the continuous screaming still reverberating all around you.

In the flashes of light, you can see dozens of hands rattling a chain-link fence that looks like it won’t hold for very much longer. You try to push your way back through the wall – the way you came in – but it doesn't budge, meaning you’re stuck in this room until you find another way out.

“Jake!” you yell again, terror rooting you to the spot. The fence to your right finally rips open and gangly arms start stretching out toward you, making you jolt backward. You shriek, moving along the wall slowly because you’re too afraid to fall into another trap.

You reach the end of the chamber, which opens up to a tunnel, and whimper tragically. Going in will surely mean that you will have to complete the haunted maze without Jake, but the tunnel is probably the only way out of this room.

You only have a second to deliberate however, because at that moment, the fence behind you comes crashing down and a horde of zombies escapes. In the shadows, it looks like there might be more than half a dozen of them stumbling in your direction, tripping over one another to get to you.

If you don’t run, they won’t chase you. If you don’t run, they won’t chase you.

But the zombies are still coming, their hideous shrieks even more off-putting than their decaying faces.

You lunge into the tunnel and sprint faster and faster even as the passageway dips and winds and darkens. At a certain point, you are forced to stop running because it gets too dark to find your way without holding your hands out to feel the curve of the walls.

And then you hear his voice.

“Y/N!”

“Oh my god! Jake!” you screech.

“Y/N?” he yells back.

You start pushing on the solid wall before you because it sounds like he’s right on the other side. “Jake, where are you?” You can hear the zombies gaining on you further up the tunnel and you sob, “Jake, please get me out of here.”

Suddenly, a door creaks open to your right and you start, cowering from the blinking red light that filters into the pitch black passage. But then you see Jake’s broad-shouldered silhouette enter through the opening and, in your relief, you throw yourself right into him, burying your face into his chest as his arms close around your back. His grip tightens as you clutch onto the front of his soaked shirt, and you can feel his mouth over the top of your head. “I’ve got you,” he mutters into your hair. “I’ve got you.”

But before you can sink into the feeling of having Jake Seresin’s strong arms supporting your trembling frame, you hear the sound of footsteps as the zombies come hurtling through the tunnel. Without a word, Jake pulls you sideways, tucking you and himself behind the open door. He brings a finger to his lips when he sees that you’re about to cry out, and you hold your breath, watching the flashing lights illuminate the exhilaration in his eyes.

You close your own eyes as the zombies near, deciding that no amount of attention from Jake is worth participating in this traumatizing experience. And you promise yourself that you will never be swayed by his stupid, irresistible smile again.

That’s when you feel his body brush up against yours. You open your eyes to see his face hovering over your own, watching you intently as the zombies race by your hiding spot. His mouth curls into a smirk when it becomes apparent that his plan has worked as expected. You try your best to concentrate on the direct threat of flesh-eating zombies and not on his leg that’s pressed into your thigh, or his hand that you suddenly notice is gripping your hip, but it isn’t easy prioritizing escape when his eyes are dancing with delight only about three inches from your face.

You want him to kiss you. You want him to kiss you so badly. Right here in the darkness, concealed behind a heavy, wooden door, surrounded by a dense mist and a musty smell, with the added ambience of distant screams in the background. But, of course, you aren’t going to voice this desire. Because that would be more terrifying than getting eaten alive by a bunch of zombie clowns. So, instead, you say, “Get me the fuck out of here, Seresin.”

Jake nods, stepping away from you slowly, almost reluctantly. He holds his arm out to direct you out of the tunnel through the splintered door. He leads you past the holographic apparitions that float eerily along the walls, through the hall of warped mirrors that make your eyes hurt and your head spin, and over the various trap doors in the final stretch of your journey.

But he stops when you get to a dark, narrow split between two concrete walls. “This is the exit,” he says with a grimace. “Sorry,” he adds.

You shake your head. “I’m not going in there.”

“There’s no other way out.”

You stare at him in horror. “I’m claustrophobic.”

Jake drags a hand over his face. “That’s not good,” he says.

You feel yourself start to panic so you lash out by slapping him on the shoulder. “How could you not know that?”

Jake shrugs. “I forgot, I guess.”

Your breathing accelerates as your heart pounds painfully against your ribcage. “I hate your guts, Seresin,” you mutter. “You’re going to pay for this.”

In response, Jake gives you a very broad, very happy smile, as though you didn’t just tell him that you despise him.

“What?” you say heatedly.

Jake continues grinning. “You’re mad.”

“Yeah, I’m mad! Why are you so happy about it?”

He shakes his head. “No reason.”

You glare at him. “You should fear my wrath.”

He bites his lip, watching you affectionately. “It’s definitely the scariest part of this whole place.”

“I’m angry!” you yell, although you feel a fit of laughter start to bubble up in your chest.

Jake tries to keep a straight face. “Okay, but, could you be angry in there?” He nods at the chasm leading toward the exit, his eyes scanning the area behind you. “Because the zombies are coming.”

He ushers you into the fissure between the walls, keeping his hand on your back as you make your way forward. The only thing that makes up for this stressful conclusion to an already harrowing adventure is that his fingers seem to slip further down your back the farther you walk, trailing past the waistline of your jeans and stopping in the vicinity of your back pocket.

“See?” he says cheerily as the gap between the walls begins to narrow. “It’s not that bad.”

You try to concentrate on the light touch of his fingers as he hooks a couple of them into the back pocket of your jeans rather than the cracking walls rising up on either side of your body that seem to be closing in on you the deeper you go.

“Just so you know, there’s going to be a vibrating floor tile somewhere up ahead,” Jake says quietly, very close to your ear. “It’s coming up.”

You look over your shoulder sharply. “No,” you respond curtly, as if you could will this particular contraption away.

Jake squeezes himself in between your chest and the wall, his fingers regrettably slipping out of your pocket. The space is so tight that, no matter how much you press you backs into the walls, your bodies are still touching. “You can do this,” he says. “I’m right here.”

You frown at him, annoyed and love-sick all at once. Why did he insist on you coming? Why did he bring you along knowing he’d have to babysit you the entire time? Unless he doesn’t mind being with you. Perhaps it’s what he was hoping for.

Jake’s eyes skim worriedly over your face. “Are you okay?” he asks.

You draw in a wavering breath, content to let him fret for another several seconds over your wellbeing. Finally, you respond, “If we survive this hellhole, I’m going to murder you.”

Jake chuckles, placing his hands on your shoulders. “If we survive this hellhole, I’m getting you two funnel cakes.”

You let out a resolute sigh and nod. “Make it three. I want one of each flavor.”

Jake grins. “You got it.”

You bring your hands up to push at his chest, squirming in the compact space against his shirt. “How are you still wet?” you say irritably. “We’ve been in here for hours.”

Jake makes a face. “It’s been like six minutes, actually.”

You groan. “And this is why I don’t do haunted houses.”

…

Finally – finally ­– you step out into the cool, breezy sunshine with Jake on your heels. Bradley waves at the two of you from across the walkway, coming over to greet you.

“Took you a while,” Bradley remarks.

You grimace at him. “It’s only been like six minutes,” you retort sourly.

Jake looks like he might be trying to suppress a laugh.

“As if you took off again,” you reprimand your brother.

Bradley shrugs. “The trick is to race through these things and not stop to smell the rotting flesh.”

You shudder. “I need to sit down; my legs feel like jelly.”

“Log ride?” Bradley says to Jake. “While this one recuperates?” He nods toward you with a grin.

Jake pinches at his still soaking shirt and then wrinkles his nose. “I think I’ll sit this one out,” he says. “Promised your sister I’d get her funnel cake.”

“Three,” you remind him.

Jake graces you with an amused smirk. “I would love to see you try to get through three whole funnel cakes.”

As Bradley takes off in the direction of the log ride, you glance at Jake apprehensively. “You could go with him,” you say, cursing yourself for even suggesting it because all you want is to spend some time alone with Jake – not inside of a nuthouse.

Jake gives you a quick smile before starting for the funnel cake stand. “Don’t want to,” he responds.

You fall into step with him, wondering why he’d rather hang around you than his best friend. As he’s ordering the funnel cakes, you decide that you’re reading too much into things and he’s probably just hoping to dry off before going on the next ride, and that his decision to skip the log ride has nothing to do with you at all.

But then, as the two of you watch the mesmerizing creation of the world’s most delicious pastry through the glass window of the kitchen, Jake says this: “Heard you broke up with what’s-his-name.”

Your grip on the tray in your hands tightens but your eyes remain on the rapidly frying dough. It was a casual question, and Jake isn’t even looking at you, but his repeated interest in your dating life continues to give you hope where there probably isn’t any. He’s just making conversation. You shrug. “He was an asshole,” you say nonchalantly.

“Told you he would be,” Jake responds with an equally casual tone.

You bite your bottom lip aggressively, tired of the ambiguity behind his words. “That’s fine,” you retort. “I’ve got options.”

That’s when Jake turns to look at you with a troubled pair of eyes.

“Your words,” you remind him. “So, I took your advice.”

He narrows his eyes. “What advice would that be?”

“I told you someone asked out,” you say, setting the first of your funnel cakes down onto your tray.

“You said yes?” he gapes at you. “To a stranger?”

You watch him pensively for a moment. “You know, I think we’re going to need another tray,” you say, deciding to keep him in suspense for another minute.

Call it payback or something.

A/N: Thanks for reading! I hope you enjoyed this installment of torturous pining. Don't forget to send in your ideas for these two in my ask box!

Hangman Tag List:

The rest of the list will be in the comments! Please let me know if you don't want to be tagged anymore.

@broketraveler87

@atarmychick007

@wandering-wah

@callsign-sunshine

@shanimallina87

@ghost-heart34

@birdy-bat-writes

@matya4

@wkndwlff

@nyx2021

@bellamy1998

@oliviah-25

@alexxavicry

@army24--7

@thefandomimagines

@dracosluvbot

@smit41

@scenesofobx

@Criminalmindsandmarvel

@lunamoonbby

@malums-trash-can

@creativitybeware

@xoxabs88xox

@Yoyop7

@hallecarey1

@nik2blog

@rrocky0ah

@kpopgirlbtssvt

@lilianashomaresparza

@latetedslesetoiles

@Elenavampire21

@ekeel2016

@starberryhorse

@ginger-gabsq

@sarcastic-sourwolf

@loveforaugust

@adaydreamaway08

@desert-fern

@averyhotchner

@classyunknownlover

@mimisalad

@bubblegumbeautyqueen

@elle-writes-things

@tumblerluvver

@lostcause514

@cevans-winchester

@ssaic-jareau

@catsandbooksandstuff

@fdl305

@letskeepthislo-ki

No Time To Lose

Summary: Bucky is going to confront you for why you have been avoiding him but when he comes home he finds out you have been kidnapped

Warning: Mentions of kidnapping and torture

Part 1 Part 3

Bucky couldn't bear the growing distance between you any longer. He knew he had to talk to you and stop the tension that had been building. The constant absence of your touch, your laughter, and your presence had made him realize just how much he needed you.

One evening, as he mustered up the courage to have the conversation, he decided to surprise you at home. He wanted to show you that whatever he did wrong he deeply regrets it and stop whatever had caused this sudden change in your behavior.

However, when Bucky entered the apartment, he found it eerily quiet. The atmosphere felt heavy, and his heart clenched with a sense of foreboding. He called out your name, but there was no response.

Panic surged through his veins as he quickly searched every room, hoping to find you. It was then that he noticed something off—a broken vase on the floor, shattered glass scattered across the room.

Bucky's hands trembled as he desperately dialed your number, hoping against hope that you would answer. But each ring went unanswered, intensifying his anxiety. Fear gnawed at his heart as he realized something was terribly wrong. Where were you? Why weren't you picking up?

Unable to waste any more time, Bucky quickly dialed Sam's number, his voice filled with urgency. "Sam, it's Y/N. She's in trouble. I can't reach her, and I don't know where she is. I need your help."

Sam's voice conveyed his concern as he responded, "Don't worry, Bucky. I'm on my way. We'll find her together. Just hold on."

Bucky's mind replayed every moment, every conversation, searching for any signs he might have missed. Anything that could show what had happen to you. Bucky's mind raced with worry as they searched for any sign of your whereabouts. Doubt gnawed at his thoughts, questioning every decision he had made leading up to this moment. Did I miss any signs that something was wrong? Should I have noticed your distress sooner?

But as the minutes ticked by, Bucky's conviction grew stronger. Deep down, he knew you would never willingly leave him without a word. Your love had been genuine, your connection real. It didn't make sense that you would simply disappear without a trace. His gut told him that something was terribly wrong.

That is when he saw Sam walk in with a computer in his hand. "Well I asked the landlord for the security cameras and he was happy to give it to Captain America." Sam says laughing trying to lighten the mood as he sits down, but no reaction from Bucky. "Well what did you find?" Bucky says eagerly. "I see that Y/N got captured while heading in, but its a little blurry to see the number plate." Sam says while showing Bucky "But I do know someone who can get it, wait here." Sam walks out to make a phone call.

The guilt intensified, a suffocating presence that threatened to consume him. He blamed himself for not being there, for not protecting you when you needed him the most. His mind raced with a barrage of "what ifs" and self-recrimination.

Sam comes back awhile later to inform Bucky he found where Y/N is held captive and they rush off to find you.

✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦

Y/N's heart raced as she found herself trapped, held captive by Brock. She knew Bucky would come for her, and she held onto that hope tightly. But the more Brock tortured he, she felt as if all that hope was slipping away.

"Poor, poor Y/N I really thought your boyfriend would save you" Brocks says putting a knife near your neck. "I can't believe he would let someone as precious as you thrown away"

"I don't give a fuck what you believe" you say spitting at brock

Brock punches you and you feel blood come out of your moth. "You need to learn to not be a bitch, before we can play". You can see the look Brock gave you and it didn't make you feel good. He starts to walk away and comes back with collar and puts it on you. You try moving your neck but you feel a sudden pain of electrical shocks.

He lifts your chin up "You better hope your boyfriend comes in time, because a few more shocks and your dead" he says with a smile while he walks outs.

✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦

A few hours later you see the door open in but the tears in your eyes make it hard for you to make out the figure. There was so many of Brock's henchman here you couldn't tell which one was Brock or not.

That is when she caught a glimpse of Bucky hiding behind some crates. Bucky gave you a soft smile while he disapeared into the dark.

However, luck seemed to elude him as a creaking floorboard betrayed his presence. The sudden sound alerted Brock's henchmen, who immediately converged on Bucky, trapping him within their grasp. Bucky's heart raced as he found himself outnumbered, but he refused to back down.

As the first henchman lunged at him, Bucky swiftly dodged the attack. He retaliated with a powerful punch, sending his assailant crashing into a nearby wall. But there was no time to savor the victory as the others closed in, their fists flying.

Amidst the chaos, Bucky caught a glimpse of Sam swooping down from above. The familiar wings of his Falcon suit glinted in the darkness.

You saw while Bucky was fighting the henchman, Sam was taking you out of the facility and to the hospital. "You okay there, were almost to the hospital, then I'll go back for buck" Sam says holding you tightly as he brings you to the hospital. But you eyes start to close slowly, you didn't want to hold on for life anymore, you didn't want to be Bucky's burden, you just wanted some peace.

@vicmc624 @cjand10 @marygoddessofmischief @matchat3a @blue-chup @floralwsloki @kentokaze @internet-infuencer @666yourmomdotcom @zzziea @maddieislost @madi-is-kinda-lame @openup-yourmind @almosttoopizza @specialsnowflake-gabbi

Unfamiliar feeling

PAIRING | Bucky Barnes x Nurse!Female!Reader

WORD COUNT | 1.7K

SUMMARY | You're the latest addition to the nurse team at the Compound, and you're assigned to take care of a certain grumpy super soldier and his wounds. You're treating him very gently and he's not used to this, but he welcomes the unfamiliar feeling nevertheless.

WARNING(S) | This is your official trigger warning. Do not proceed if any of these topics upset you. Light swearing.

Likes and reblogs will be very much appreciated 💜

Main Masterlist | Bucky Barnes Masterlist

''Y/n, some Avengers are coming in with serious injuries today, and you're assigned to treat Sergeant James Barnes. I will let you know beforehand, he can be a real dickhead when it comes to being treated, he usually doesn't want any help. Try your hardest to get him some help, otherwise, we just can't treat him anymore,'' is what your supervisor tells you. Even though you've been a nurse for nearly 15 years, you recently started your job as a nurse at the Avengers Compound since moving to New York. You've decided to trade in the California sun for the business of a city like New York, finally fulfilling your lifelong dream.

''Okay, I'll take good care of him!'' you say with your usual cheery voice and a fresh batch of enthusiasm, and your face is pretty much permanently supporting a smile. This is your first time treating an Avenger, up to this point you've only treated other agents, and the injuries weren't too severe so far. ''At what time will he arrive?'' you ask and your supervisor tells you he will be in room 7 in about 10 minutes, so you go and get the room ready for his arrival, mostly checking if all your supplies and instruments are there and ready to go, which they are. You tie your apron around your waist and put on a face mask as well as rubber gloves right before Bucky gets wheeled into the room.

You see him and quickly assess any visible wounds, which there are plenty of, they must have gone on a rough mission. ''Good afternoon Sergeant Barnes, my name is Y/N and I will be taking care of you today!'' you say and the enthusiasm is practically dripping off of your voice, making Bucky's heart skip a beat, he wasn't used to someone like you treating him. He just grunted in response, not able to talk because of a nasty wound on his face and jaw. ''It appears you had quite the rough mission, but you're still alive and that's what's most important right now,'' you tell him and you start looking him over gently.

''To do a full examination of your wounds, I do unfortunately need to take off your clothes. Shall I give you some more privacy by closing all the blinds? It will just be me in here with you, but if you're more comfortable with it I can find a male nurse to look you over,'' you offer and he points a finger at you, which you take that he is okay with you looking him over. He also gives you a thumbs up when you ask him if he wants some more privacy, he isn't used to someone asking him this, caring about his privacy - he hasn't had any for so long he doesn't know how to act in all honesty.

''First, I would like to examine your face, that appears to be a pretty nasty wound,'' you tell him, just looking at it. ''Can I touch your face, Sergeant? That way I can clean it with a bit of alcohol, which is probably going to sting pretty bad. I think we won't need to stitch it up, we could probably get away with some butterfly bandages,'' you tell him softly, not talking too fast to make sure he can follow what you're saying. He softly nods and you grab your tray with the necessary supplies to clean and bandage his face. ''Is it okay if I put this tray on your lap for easy access? If not, I can put it on the bed,'' you ask and he shakes his head, notifying me he's not comfortable with it.

''That's no problem, Sergeant, I will put it on the cart next to your bed so I can still reach everything I need. Thank you for being honest with me, it is already uncomfortable enough to be here,'' you say with a soft voice, and Bucky isn't sure why you're so gentle with him, but he is very glad that you are. This feeling is strange to him, and it almost makes him tear up a little, it has been so long since anybody asked him for permission to touch him, it sends a warm feeling through his veins, warming him up from the inside. You clean his face with the alcohol and he flinches at the feeling, so you immediately retreat and stop your actions, until he's ready to go on.

When he's all cleaned up, you softly apply a few butterfly bandages, he only needed 5 so that's not too bad. ''Alright, your face is all done, and I have to say, I have never seen anyone look this good with 5 bandages on their face!'' you say and he blushes, which makes you chuckle. ''Next, I would like to do an upper body exam, meaning I have to check your chest, stomach, arms, shoulders, and back for any injuries. I need you to take off your tactical gear for me to reach those places. Is that okay?'' you ask, and after a short moment of contemplation, Bucky softly nods, helping himself out of his tactical gear. You softly put it on the counter behind you, so he can take it when he's done.

There are multiple wounds on his chest, but they don't appear to be as bad as the one on his face. ''I have to clean the wounds on your chest, the same way I cleaned the ones on your face. Is that okay with you?'' you ask and he nods again, he is slowly getting used to being touched by you, it almost feels like he's getting touched by an angel. All he can think about is how he would always like to be treated by you from this day forward. You give him the power to move on when he's ready, letting him take everything at his own pace. ''Thank you,'' he says with a deep voice, which honestly takes you by surprise, but you don't show it. ''For being so gentle,'' he finishes his sentence.

''It's okay, Sergeant. I get that it's not fun to be treated like this when you're at your most vulnerable. I try to make you feel as comfortable as possible, and we can go at your own pace,'' you tell him while continuing to clean the wounds on his chest. His face has softened a lot now, the grumpy scowl on his face now making a place for a bit of a relaxed expression. At first, Bucky was uncomfortable with you seeing his arm, he still wasn't entirely comfortable with it himself, but he got over that pretty quickly when he took his shirt off, you didn't comment on it, look at it weird, or even acknowledged it at all. Of course, you saw his prosthetic, but you've seen everything by now, so it didn't faze you in the slightest.

''Can you please lift your left arm so I can check your side and back for injuries?'' you ask and he does it immediately, the feeling he had at first being completely washed away now, he enjoyed you being so gentle, he missed this feeling and he welcomed it with every fiber in his being. ''You're looking good on this side, can you lift your right arm so I can do the same on the other side?'' you ask as you walk around the bed, but again no injuries. ''Also looking good!'' you say with a cheer in your voice. ''Do you feel comfortable with removing your shoes and tactical pants so I can take a look at your legs? You can keep your underwear on, I won't need to examine there unless you are experiencing pain in those areas,'' you tell him.

''Yeah, it's okay,'' he says this time, even giving you a small smile as he permits you. He quickly takes off his boots and pants and sits back down so you can examine them. Aside from some bruised, you appear to be good. Is there a specific place you need me to check out a little closer?'' you ask and Bucky shakes his head, he's feeling a lot better already, the super soldier serum also helping him heal faster than usual. ''Okay, then we're all done here for today!'' you say as you take off your gloves and face mask, showing him your big smile now. Bucky can't help but gasp softly when you smile at him, it's the most beautiful smile he has seen in decades.

''You can get dressed while I clean up, so we can discuss your wound care afterward,'' you tell him and he does so. You explain how he can take care of his wounds, and if there's any discomfort he can always come back. ''Again, thank you so much for being so gentle,'' Bucky said, ''It means the world,'' he says before getting up and walking towards the door. ''Sergeant?'' you ask, ''You can call me Bucky, doll'' he says and you blush immediately. ''Bucky? I'm glad I could make you feel comfortable. I'll be honest, I was told about your situation beforehand and I get it, it's nice to get a little bit of power back in a situation where you're practically helpless. It was my pleasure to take care of you today,'' you say and flash him another smile before he gave you a smirk back and walked out the door.

He felt like he was walking on a cloud, not having felt so well taken care of in so long. For nearly 70 years HYDRA just did as they pleased, so it did feel good to finally take a little piece of his dignity back. ''How did it go?'' Steve asks when he returns to the kitchen, where Steve was getting his after-mission snack ready. ''Actually, I think I have a new favorite nurse. She took great care of me, explained everything she was going to do, and asking permission along the way. It honestly felt good to have a bit of control about this,'' he said with a smile, and Steve completely understood. ''I'm glad to hear it, Buck,'' he said as he offered him half of his snack, knowing he was also very hungry.

Behind The Facades | Part II

An unrequited pining over a certain super solider.

Navigation: Part I || Part II || Part III (end)

Words: 3.3k++

Pairings: avenger!bucky x female!reader

Warnings: angst. pent up anger. unspoken jealousy. conflicted feelings.

P/S: i heard you. i got you. since lots of you enjoyed the supposedly oneshot, so i decided to do a continuation for this couple. Hope you enjoy~

Read my other works here: Masterlist

Weeks gone by, months flown through and the team was already accustomed Bucky's girlfriend wandering around the tower. Though they thought she would move-in eventually, knowing that Tony allowed them to do so, but she hadn't done it yet.

While Y/N, on the other hand, felt like she was constantly walking on thin ice. Being tug in between holding herself together and breaking down.

What's worst about this was, deep down, Y/N wanted to hate her.

Gail Richards.

Bucky's girl.

A gorgeous red-head, sultry champagne-colored eyes, a deep dimple on her right cheek, sculptured body of goddess and heart of gold.

Y/N got to admit that she hated how perfect Gail was for Bucky. She had such a kind soul; it's impossible not to fall for her. In hindsight, she was exactly what Bucky needed in his life.

What he deserve.

And in the end, Gail managed to steal not just Bucky's heart, but also the entire team's.

Including Y/N herself.

The friendship between Gail and Y/N was true and genuine; even if it hurts her everytime when she was forced to see Gail canoodling with the man she had fallen madly in love with.

"So where's the date? Did he tell you or is it a surprise kind of thing?" Gail's questions snapped Y/N from her deep internal thoughts.

Her gaze fell into her own reflection in the mirror; she was fitted with a simple black satin dress, with a quite scandalous slit on one side on her thigh. Standing behind her, was Gail, helping her out with the pearl necklace she was graciously lending it to Y/N.

"I don't remember the name but it's that new michelin star restaurant." Y/N replied as she straighten her dress, suddenly feeling conscious of how tight the dress was hugging her body.

"Oh! I know that fancy new restaurant. It opened last week, right? Bucky and I haven't had the chance to go yet. I heard it's pretty hard to get reservation. I must say, I'm impressed."

While Gail seemed to approve of Y/N's date, she didn't notice the way Y/N's body froze as she mentioned Bucky's name.

Her fingers were itching to dug it's nails somewhere, anywhere; as she try to keep her composure as neutral as possible, "Yeah, I'll definitely give you my review before you guys go on a date there. Who knows if its not up to the standards, right?"

Oh, how desperate she was on wanting to hide her pain away.

"That's great, y/n! But, I'd rather you actually enjoy the date rather than secretly being an undercover food critique. Forget about everything and have fun for once! Who knows this one is a keeper, huh?" Gail rubbed her hands to side of Y/N's arms; her eyes brighten as she encouraged her.

Ignorance is truly a bliss; though it's not that she knows that Y/N had been in love with Bucky this whole time.

On the other hand, Bucky was starting to feel the effects of what Gail had warned him before. He doesn't want to feel like she doesn't love him because she does.

At least she tries to.

Persuing Gail was not necessarily easy; not because he was lacking or she played hard to get. But because of how honest she was; how self aware she was.

"Being with me is a hell of a challenge, Bucky. My emotions are unpredictable. Today, I will love you ever so truly; I will drown you with all the kisses and cuddles you could ever imagine but the next day you might not being able to talk to me or even see me."

"I'll go M.I.A and isolate myself from the world at any time, with no warning. I shut down without any reason."

"I might not be there for you when you needed me the most. I might abandon you when all you wanted for me to stay."

"Worst part about it is I won't feel sorry for what I did because I can barely feel anything during those time."

But he insisted to try.

Maybe it was the sudden surge of passion when he met her but he was determined that they could make it work.

So, try they did.

As his relationship with Gail progresses, his and y/n's started to astray. He noticed y/n has been keeping her distance with him since he got together with Gail.

She had been cooped up in her room more often. There was a gradual changes in their schedule. Lesser trips to the corndog stall that y/n was obsessed with, canceled trips on visiting Alpine, the cute little kitten they have been eyeing at the adoption center, and almost none of the late night coffee trips.

He missed her.

From her annoying laugh to her odd habit of scratching things in her sleep.

Her smile, her voice, her presence.

He missed all of it.

He missed her.

Which was why Bucky thought it was better to talk it out with her. Maybe there was some sort of misunderstanding that needed to be clear out.

It took just single knock before Bucky intrude himself into Y/N's room, "Hey, y/n I don't want to disturb you but can we..." Bucky's sentence did not managed to end with a period, thus his words was instead left hanging just like his mouth.

"Oh, wow."

For a moment there, Bucky literally forgot how to breath. It was as if the reality around him was deteriorating, leaving just the perfect view of Y/N. For a split second, his gaze seemed to dilated into a trance, slowly getting bewitched by the beauty before him.

Bucky was so captivated by how, almost sinfully, beautiful Y/N looked in that dress, he didn't notice his own girlfriend was standing right next to her.

Gail carefully slide her way towards Bucky as she prompted, "So... what do you think, Buck? Gorgeous isn't she?" A dreamy sigh escaped from Gail's lips as she admire the woman in front of her.

"Yes. Yes, she is."

Those were the words Bucky wanted to say but his mouth wasn't listening to his heart, rather it followed his head, "I didn't know you were coming over, honey." Bucky arms reached towards Gail as he scooped her close to him, placing a soft kiss on her cheek.

It was subtle but if they paid enough attention, they could see how Y/N's gaze quickly shifted downwards to her feet. Her teeth sunk between the insides of her left cheek as an effort to distract herself from the thunderstorm within her chest. A little bit more force on her teeth would've tore her up and left her bleeding from the inside.

How much longer she must be in this torment? How much suffering her heart needs to endure until it adapt to the pain? She's tired of the ache in her chest but at the same time she can't help it when her heart yearn for a love that's never going to be hers.

"Well? Is she not goddamn beautiful?" Gail playfully slapped Bucky's arm, demanding her question to be answered.

"I mean..." Bucky stuttered to find words. Especially when those round doe eyes of Y/N's spark with anticipation.

All those milliseconds of time Bucky had to think of an appropriate, truthful answer but somehow he only come up with, "...i guess, you could do better."

Idiot.

Straight up dumb.

Bucky immediately regret his words when the gleam in Y/N's eyes suddenly faded; turning into something cold and stoic.

Gail huffed in denial, before taking Y/N's side, "Then you sir, need to check your eyes because she's absolutely stunning". Y/N gave a small smile as Gail pulled her for a side hug.

"Why are you dressed up anyway?" Bucky wanted change the topic before he said something stupid again.

There was a noticeable pause on Y/N's side as he asked, as if she was unwilling to tell him. However, the reluctantcy only arouses his curiosity.

Y/N turned around and faced the mirror. As she fixed the necklace near her collarbone, she made an eye contact with Bucky through his reflection and answered, "I have a date."

Something shifted in the air; as if it was getting heavier, sturdier.

"Who's the guy?" Bucky was clearly not amused with the idea. It barely filtered through his stern tone.

"Daniel. One of the SHIELD agent I worked with before." Y/N noticed how his expression morphed into a frown.

"Why is he making that face? "

Bucky seethed, "That douchebag? Really y/n?" There's a hint of disappointment in his voice; like how a father would scold his daughter of doing something stupid.

And that ticked her off.

She's a grown-ass woman; she can do whatever she wants, date whoever she wants. None of it was Bucky's concern.

"What do you mean?" Annoyance flowed through her tone.

Bucky rolled his eyes as he recognized that name.

Daniel.

That scumbag whose always staring at her. And not in a cute, crush-like way. There's nothing innocent about the way he stare at Y/N's ass and boobs, or always finding excuses to touch her.

However, Y/N has been oblivious to it since Bucky had always been with her.

Since when did that douche got close to Y/N? How did he managed to get Y/N agree to go to a fucking date with him? More importantly, how did Bucky not know all of this?

There was this uncontrollable, unexplainable rage within Bucky that he was unable to contain; like a venomous poison it seeped through his head, "Are you that needy to even consider going out with such scum? Come on, y/n. You're being naive, it's ridiculous." Bucky scoffed as his tone laced with scorn and mockery.

Gail gasped in complete shock, "What is wrong with you, Bucky? That's not--"

"That's not fair. How can you have the luxury to fall in love and lived happily ever after while I have to continue to break and break, again and again?"

"Ridiculous? Am I a fucking joke to you, Bucky?!" Y/N could hold back her own anger as she turned towards him. His face remained the way that it is; red and furious and he was not willing to put his ego down either.

"You know what?" Y/N swerved towards the bed, "I am going to go this date with Daniel, whether you like or not..." She took her purse on the edge of the mattress, "...and I am going to enjoy every second of it!"

"Thanks, Gail. I really appreciate your help today." Y/N smiled as she briefly took Gail's hands into hers. Blinking in confusion, Gail replied, "Y-yeah.. sure--" though her speech was cut short when Y/N interrupted.

"And you!" Y/N shot a glare towards Bucky before marching towards him, "You can go fuck yourself." She clashed her shoulders into Bucky's before walking out her own room.

Bucky gritted his teeth; his jaw clenched in pure vexation as his frown grew deeper.

Looking at her very angry looking boyfriend, Gail let out a tired sigh, "Why would you say such thing to her, Bucky?

Why did he say those things?

He could explain it much better way, knowing that he had plausible reason to why he thinks she should not go to this date.

But, why did he not do that?

Why did he lash out and spat those hurtful things to her?

Even Bucky himself was not sure why.

After that Bucky spent the rest of the night at the gym, and this was the third punching bag that he had completely destroyed. He could see his girlfriend coming in from the corner of his eyes, with an emergency kit in her hand.

She sat at a nearby bench before, "Bucky sweetheart, come here." Gail softly asked him sit with her.

Despite the grunts and gruffs that slipped from his lips, he still obeyed her; though partially was because she had been sternly staring at him.

Gail gently remove his boxing glove of his right hand, then lo and behold his knuckles was crushed and bloodied.

"The wrappings is there for a reason, you know?" She knew he would this; especially when he is guided by rage. Bucky remained silent, knowing that if he did not control his anger first; then he would probably do the same thing he did to Y/N again.

There was a comfortable silence as Gail was tending his wounds. Bucky looked down at her, focusing on cleaning the wounds. She was always careful and tender while handling Bucky; as if she was taking care of a child.

"You love her, don't you?" Gail calmly asked as she started to wrap Bucky's hand.

The question caught him by surprise, "What do you mean?"

She chuckled softly, "y/n. You love her. Am I right?" she reclarify.

It didn't need a genius to figure out how Bucky truly feels about Y/N. Even if he himself if not aware of his own feelings.

But she can see right through him.

She noticed how attentive was Bucky towards y/n. How he looked at her; like she's his whole world. How every single thing he does somehow relates back to Y/N; and he cannot go by a day without mentioning her name in their any conversation. How peaceful looked when y/n is anywhere near him.

She noticed every single one of those detail.

"Of couse, I do. It's y/n we're talking about here." Bucky replied as-matter-of-factly. Though there was some truth in his answer but it was not all.

Gail shook her head lightly as she holds Bucky's wounded hand in hers, "No, Bucky. You love her." Her brows crunched into a pleading curve as her gaze turned gentle.

Bucky frowned in confusion; he looked down at his hand where her thumb caressing his knuckles and he thought back all the moments he spent with y/n.

From the very first day he met her, on those nights she stayed with him, through thick and thin, her eyes on his, her smile on his cheek, her laugh in his arms, her voice in his ears, her skin on left arm, everything flashed through him so fast until a single moment when he realizes.

"I love her."

Gail recognized the glint his eyes, "And she loves you too, Buck." She coaxed.

The frown on his face turned into a shock as she spoke. Even if Y/N does love him, what does that mean?

"What are you saying?"

"Go." Her voice were somehow calmer than she was supposed to speak in such a dire situation.

Bucky knew what she meant; he knew what those eyes were telling him, "Gail, you--"

She cut him before he could say anything, "We did agree to see where will this take us..." her smiled was somehow bitter-sweet, "And I guess this is our end of the line."

A hit of pain struck Bucky's heart, "You don't have to do this." His left hand raised to tenderly cupped her cheeks; it was warm. Unlike his winter cold hand, she was warm. Like the soft heat from the morning sun.

She placed her hand on top of his as she craved a reassuring smile, "I want to."

And that broke Bucky's heart. And it broke for her.

He loved Gail.

All the feelings he felt for her was real. As real as the feelings he felt for Y/N. The only difference was he didn't realized he was in love with Y/N, but he did with Gail.

"And to be honest, I'm not sure I can keep up with the emotional commitments, I'm always M.I.A and lost in my own head..."

As Gail starts to ramble, Bucky wasn't hearing any of it. His eyes stings and his vision blurred.

There was only so much any man can handle.

There was joy in realizing his was in love with Y/N but there was also agony in knowing he had to break Gail's heart. Unable to hold back his emotions anymore, his tears finally broke out.

She was prepared not to cry today but seeing Bucky like this; who wouldn't tear up, right?

"Hey hey hey, I'll be okay. We'll be okay." She placed her palm on Bucky's cheeks, wiping away the tears with her thumb as she lead his gaze to her own.

"Bucky, listen to me. I don't want you feeling like you're alone." she cooed, her eyes had gotten glassy as tears filled within them. "You deserve so much more than what I can offer you, do you understand?" Bucky can simply nod as he feels like his voice will betray him.

"Good." Gail closed her eyes and leaned into a kiss. A soft innocent kiss on his forehead, as their tears fall on each other's bare skin, "Now, go get your girl."

<< Part I || Part III >>

Read my other works here: Masterlist

A/N: Feel free to leave some feedback behind! And what do you think of Gail? I thought it'd be nice to have a different characteristics for her instead of the cliche 'bitchy and rude' girlfriend.

There's no actual taglist. So, I only include those who reblogged with comments and/or commented on the previous part. However, do tell if you want or do not want to be tagged.

Taglist: @ghostofwinter @angstysebfan @erinallene @mishkatelwarriorgoddess @paarthurnax59 @nomajdetective @kentokaze @dexter99 @nana1000night @prettyinpink350

Perzys se Rūkla (Fire and Flowers) - Masterlist

Pairing: Daemon Targaryen x OFC (Melessa Tyrell) Warnings: Smut, angst.

Synopsis: When Daemon returns to King's Landing for the first time in fifteen years he sets his sights on his nephew Aemond's betrothed, Melessa. The trouble with happy endings though, is that they rarely work out when deep down you feel you don't deserve one...

Moodboard by the wonderfully talented @ruby-dragon

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six (FINAL)

His Love |Aegon II Targaryen x FemReader| Master List

Summary: Being a bastard born in the slums of Flea Bottom was all you were known for. Not the streak of white you had in your dark hair, the violet ring around your pupils, or how your sharp tongue and skills with the blade resembled your father, Daemon Targaryen.

You were just a bastard, nothing more, but to him, to Aegon Targaryen, you were everything. You were his love.

Part One

Part Two

Part Three

Part Four

Part Five

Part Six

Part Seven

Part Eight

Part Nine

Part Ten

Part Eleven

Part Twelve

Part Thirteen

Part Fourteen

Part Fifteen

Part Sixteen

Part Seventeen

Part Eighteen

Part Nineteen

Part Twenty

Part Twenty-One

Spotify Playlist

YouTube Playlist

All typical Game of Thrones/House of The Dragon warnings apply to this story, but I will put specific ones above each chapter.

Prologue

Synopsis: She was a lady born into French royalty and the royal court where she was highly beloved, only to meet her end at a young age and became a forgotten figure to history. The end she met became her stroke of fate as she was given a second chance to live again, forever. This is the story about (Y/n) De Auclair’s life where her new life gave her an adventure with a family and love that she never thought she would gain.

↳Jasper Hale x OC! Reader

Word count: 3k (3,055) words

Taglist: currently open; 5/10 positions (will be added more if more people are interested)

Content warnings: blood mentioned, drinking/ hunting for blood mentioned, Jasper feeling weird, & that’s all, but let me know if I missed any!

Moulage pt.3 ⚜️ Masterlist ⚜️ Chapter 1: Il Était Une Fois

Winter.

A period of quiet reflections and new beginnings of a new year as an old year ends.

The season is associated and centered with darker topics than the rest of the others. The cold and dark are the main symbols of the winter with despair seen as the last symbol. Usually, it can also be viewed as survival and the end of life as many living beings die or prepare to survive the harsh season to live to see gentle spring.

However, many may see it as a warning of their loneliness arriving soon. Not having anyone to enjoy the events that occur in the winter and having to be alone. Which might make them feel the longline with the view of seeing those around them be happy.

The winters in New York were known for their soft powdery snow that if it was picked up, would fall like pixie dust from your hands. The city’s snow had the purest white color out of all the states as it hails from their sky. From their sky, formed fluffy white clouds that were now a light gray, glooming over the state in exchange to produce their pure snow. And with that, it’s how the people of the city begin to change their daily routine from summer to winter.

Once the first snowfall lays on the ground, that's when the people of New York exchange their thin clothing for thicker clothes and the holiday festivities start. Every inch and corner of the city was to be covered by snowfall, as December started. Leaving their crystal water lakes and ponds to become frozen and turned into ice rinks for the people to enjoy. Snowmen with tophats and carrot noses start to appear on the sidewalk and parks, greeting those who walk by. Hot chocolate stands start to pop up around neighborhoods making the children beg their parents to buy them a cup.

However, the most popular and well-known holiday activity to do once early December hits is to watch the Nutcracker. It had become one of the favored Christmas time activities once it became introduced in the 1940s. The city was known for its performing arts and theater centers, so of course, the nutcracker was a new performing arts event that had now been added to the city's list. Almost every family tries to see it every year allowing ballet companies to extend show dates. Even travelers from different states come to New York to see it as there was a high chance no company there will host it.

Coming down from the upper north was a trio, a group of nomad vampires that contained two males and one girl. With one of the males being the mate of the girl. The three of them traveled not far to enter the city, wearing light winter clothing on their bodies compared to the New Yorkers. They got glances from the people as they walked by due to that, but the cold does not bother them as being a vampire and dead contributes to that factor.

The group of vampires was in the city for one reason only, which was to watch The Nutcracker, and then they could go back home. The only woman in the group, Charlotte, had convinced the two to watch the ballet as a way to celebrate the holidays. Of course, Peter, her mate, and Jasper, her close friend, had agreed to make her happy, which they did. As it was now why the trio was walking through the streets of New York City to the theater.

"It's up ahead on the street,” Charlotte exclaimed, gripping her mate’s hand tightly that making him wince. She picked up her pace to walk faster, dragging Peter with her who cannot take her excitement. As it is why, he hasn't said a word about her grip on him, so he wouldn't make her replace her excitement with guilt.

Peter looked behind him to lock eyes with his best friend, Jasper, as a way to plead with him to use his powers over Charlotte. He did love her and her excitement for the activity that they were going to do, but he could only handle so much of her. It was a way to calm her down before she would accidentally expose her abilities as a vampire due to her excitement. As well as Peter who was being treated as a rag doll by her the entire time of walking to the water with Jasper slightly behind them.

Jasper’s red eyes looked back at his friends with a hidden amusement behind them and a small smile on their faces. He just shook his head no to the side as his friend's antics entrained him. He did not want to be scolded by an angry Charlotte since she would know that he used his power on her. The reaction of Peters's face dropped at his answer made him let out a small chuckle from his lips with Peter not as amused as him.

And right before the trio’s eyes was the magnificent Palace theater located in the middle of the City. The Nutcracker's name was displayed out front of the building with the flashing bright lights lit up around it. People were dressed up in their formal evening wear as the sun had begun to set and were entering the venue. It made the three feel a little undressed, but they didn't care either way.

Charlotte began to walk towards the theater like a child in a candy store with Peter in hand as the giant lollipop.

While Jasper had a slower pace while walking to enjoy the scenery of the city as it was his first time there. His eyes roamed through the sights, the buildings, and the entire area around him until something caught his eyes. it was the ballet's official poster plastered onto the wall to show off to any on-lookers or to those that pass by.

The poster showed a single ballerina dressed in an icy blue-pink outfit and pink pointe shoes on her feet. A large award-winning smile appeared on her face as her light-colored eyes stared to the side. Her entire body was supported on one-pointed foot with the other behind her at a 90-degree angle and her arms reaching out. Above her body read the New York City Ballet company that represents Nutcracker with the dates, but it did not include who was the dancer on the poster.

Jasper could not help but felt intrigued by the poster that show the ballerina. He felt some type of feeling inside his body that he could not put his finger on and describe.

Expect, it might just be his hunger warning him to feed soon as he is surrounded by humans whose blood is pumping through their bodies. It also does not help that the ballerina has her neck stretched out showing her pale white skin that seems to glisten under the poster. It made his mouth somewhat water at the sight of her neck.

Yup. Jasper has to go hunting after this event with Charlotte and Peter. His hunger would probably get worse over time later, but he only gets that feeling when looking at the poster. He shook off that feeling when he heard Charlotte from afar saying his name, thanks to his vampire hearing.

“Jasper! Come on! We have to go inside and find our seats,” Charlotte quickly explained, still excited about the ballet even as they stood outside the venue.

Peter smiled moving his head towards the theater as a way to tell his friend to hurry up. He's also still in his mate’s tight grip as he just wants Jasper to catch up, so they could go inside and be free once they sit down.

Jasper looks forward to where the couple is and smiles at them. When he walks away from the poster, he could not help but felt weird letting go of that feeling he had. It felt sudden for it to go away quickly once he looked away and took one step back from it. The occurrence and feelings had slightly disturbed him but left it alone as he goes to keep up with the others.

The trio had entered the venue that was covered in Christmas and snow-related decorations as it was now the holidays. They were amazed by the popularity and cheer it brought to people while walking through the crowd. The inside contained a sea of people who were entering and leaving the restrooms or theater. It was rather a tight squeeze to navigate through for the three but they were able to go towards the theater and found their seats easily thanks to an available seat attendant.

Once they were seated and comfortable, they stared around the theater taking in the view as everyone started to get into their seats. Their view was perfect from where they were sitting, the seats were in the middle of the theater on the floor. It allowed them to set their eyes on the stage which was centered perfectly in the middle with no one's head blocking any one of them. Not to mention, their sight was enhanced as well due to being a vampire. Therefore, allowing them to see the stage in perfect vision with every detail noticeable to their deep red-colored eyes.

Charlotte's eyes could not help but stare at everything inside the theater and the stage. The scenery was completely new to her as she has never seen anything like this even before turning. "Isn't this place just beautiful to look at?“ loudly sighed the woman whose shoulders moved down from her question. "It is just gorgeous to look at,” Charlotte said, before adding, “even though we are a tad underdressed for this event.” Her hand slid down from Peter's upper limb to his forearm, slightly squeezing it while her eyes moved away from the stage and then to the other two.

That brought the two’s attention from what they were staring at to now her. They mentally agreed with her being underdressed, but they didn't care either way.

Jasper made a small hand gesture towards their surroundings commenting, “I do have to admit that I've never been in a place like this when I was with Maria."

"I've seen places like this in newspapers, but now I'm able to experience it. And with you two,” Peter added, patting Jasper's shoulder and squeezing his lover's thigh gently. He looked at Jasper due to him not leaving the Mexican coven not long ago and haven't been exposed much. So, he had to ask, “are you doing alright? Especially, with the huge crowds of people.”

Jasper gave him a small smile before answering, “I'm alright. Probably might have to hunt later after this." However, he didn't have the need or feeling to hunt for the next few days but just in case something might happen.

Peter nodded and was going to answer, but the music started to play aloud from the orchestra pit allowing the notes to fill the room. Which made Charlotte tug on his sleeve and her finger on her lips to hush the two. Their attention went towards the giant red curtain on stage as they wait for it to be drawn up.

The music began to reach the people's ears making their voices die down along with the mutters until it went completely silent. Now, the only thing being heard in the room was the music of the Nutcracker being played. The curtain was now being drawn up allowing the audience to see the set of the stage as the Nutcracker has officially now begun.

The Nutcracker in Jasper's opinion was that it was wonderful and entertaining to watch. Expect, the show just finished its first act which was about 40 minutes to an hour long, before they announced a short ten-minute intermission before they would move on to act two. It allowed the audience a small break to sneak in a stretch from sitting down or buying a snack before the show resumes again.

A couple of the trio had gone to see if any items of the show were being sold while Jasper stayed in his seat. He did enjoy the dancers and the show, but he could not get over the feeling from earlier. His body wanted to feel that urge and emotion he felt when he stared at that poster. He knew that he would be bothered about this until he could figure out what is happening.

As Jasper was deep into his thoughts, an announcement was made stating that the show would start soon and would like people to get back to their seats before the curtains are drawn back up. He noticed his friends coming back from the outside to where he was as the audience began to fill back up. And he began to mentally prepare himself for act two of the Nutcracker with how long it would be before another break was given.

Expect, a certain presence had appeared in his surroundings that he did not notice earlier and now sensed in the building. The presence was not quite strong around him, but he could feel it and wanted to just hunt it down. However, he could not just drop his plans with his best friends and leave early in the show. Jasper could only hope that the presence would stay until the end of the show and he could track the being with that presence.

The giant red curtains had drawn back up showing a now decorated land of sweets with the dancers in different costumes and the music playing loudly as ever. Everything was wonderful as Clara and the prince appeared again and the people welcomed him back with Clara. Multiple dances were being performed Jasper noticed the presence from earlier now became stronger.

He looked down at the booklet given to him earlier that contains the performances in the acts and started to go through them. His blood-red eyes went past act one towards act two seeing that the Waltz of the flowers was more than halfway done. A pas de deux dance next contains a guest soloist appearance as one of the important roles, the Sugar Plum Fairy.

Jasper looked back up noticing the waltz of flowers had finished with the music now changing into the iconic Dance of the Sugar Plum Fairy. The corps de ballet had moved back slightly from the center with smiles still on their faces. While Clara and the prince haven't moved and only looked in the direction of a new performer coming on stage.

The fairy's Cavalier had now appeared on stage where he smiled with his hand out to the side where he had come out of. This made everyone look to where his hand was reaching out to. A small pale hand reached out to the Cavalier’s hand, grasping it which allowed him to walk forward out to the center stage. He guided the person out behind him to show the one and only, Sugar Plum Fairy.

As they made it to the center of the stage, the two began to dance together to the music being played.

He noticed that the presence had become the strongest yet with a scent now appearing to his senses as it filled his nose. A soft, sweetly fresh aroma of white raspberries being freshly picked, daisy petals that are plucked, and a hint of sugar base musk pulled Jasper in. As soon as that fragrance hit him, all he wanted to do was pull that person with the scent towards him and hug them. it made his eyes almost black and roll back due to the feeling as the aroma did not help him.

When he got out of his trance, his red eyes located the owner of that intoxicating aroma and it landed right at the Sugar Plum Fairy. She had gorgeous (h/c) hair pulled back into a middle bun that was decorated in sparkles and a crown on top. it exposed her extended pale neck candy necklace wearing as a large smile appeared pink colored lips that reached her golden eyes. Her body had a beautiful handmade icy blue tutu with pink accents shown on the bodice and tutu.

Her skin seemed to sparkle brightly underneath the stage lights with every movement onstage. Her feet had on pointe shoes that looked to be new as she stood on the box of them, separating way from her cavalier. She became the diamond of the entire production as her partner went beside her to hold her waist to guide her.

Her features had away Jasper's attention the moment his eyes met her body and it never left her movements. When she extended any part of her body, it created the illusion of her being taller. The way she smoothly did the movements of the dance across the stage made it seem like it was easy to do. Especially, as if she had done it in her entire life just doing this single role. No mistakes could have been made with her being cast and only seemed perfect to the audience. Everything that the ballerina had done seemed flawless while captivating the audience, especially Jasper.

The entire time, the fairy was on stage, his eyes would not leave her, whether it be standing on stage or dancing he would only stare at her. He felt that if he looked somewhere she would leave and leave the faint smell of her scent behind. Inside, he knew that she would become important to him which was why his eyes were glued to her.

It was time for the final bows as every performer had bowed in order of their appearance. The only one left was the Sugar Plum Fairy as she walked to the front and went on one knee to the side, bowing deeply. The audience cheered loudly at her sight with Jasper standing up for her as he clapped loudly. While not moving his eyes away once.

As she moved her head back up, her golden eyes scanned the audience, only to meet blood-red eyes in return, right as the curtains were drawn back down.

Moulage pt.3 ⚜️ Masterlist ⚜️ Chapter 1: Il Était Une Fois

Fun facts:

Charlotte had to beg Peter and Jasper for weeks to see this ballet since November and the two agreed within the first week of December. (They cave in once she became very upset and acknowledged her weeks of asking).

Every poster (the one Jasper had seen) had to be hand painted after getting off the press where they had to match (Y/n)’s skin tone and paint over any of her skin showing as those parts seemed to be sparkling too much from the lights and flashes that it seemed to be too much for the eyes. No one could figure out had to fix it, even with the lighting until one suggest this idea.

Peter and Charlotte noticed Jaspers gaze at the poster and wondered why he was frozen like that, but they knew it wasn’t his thirst, so it had to be something else. *spoiler* they will later realize why after the show (this will be later written in the series, but not sure when)

Charlotte's begging to see the ballet is actually based off from a real life event experience that the author,Luvblue, had did where she begged her dad to see Sleeping Beauty the ballet with cousins which he would later agree to let her and brought the tickets.

A/n: Yay, the prologue is done no I hope you’re satisfied with it! The original idea for the prologue came from a fun fact I was going to publish, but transformed it into the prologue. As well as saying that updates will be very slow due to my writing process and other personal stuff (school and family and etc) that would take a majority of my time. I hope you enjoy the fun facts and the series so far!

Disclaimer: ©luv-tiffanyblue 2022 rights reserved-please do not repost/translate/modify/copy my work on other platforms unless changed in rules! Please look at my info about my other writing platforms!

🏷 : @superkittywonderland @darlincvllen @xcharlottemikaelsonx @xanniestired666 @who-actually-cares-anymore

ao nykē perzōñi iksi masterlist

you and I are made of fire

Daemon Targaryen x Stark!Reader

Summary: A tourney at Winterfell will change your life forever...

Warnings: canon-typical stuff, messing with the original timeline

• chapter 1 • ñuha dāria • my queen • summary: a dragon meets his match

• chapter 2 • ñuha prūmia • my heart • summary: celebrations after the tourney

• chapter 3 • ñuha ābrazȳrys • my wife • summary: you are presented to the court

• chapter 4 • ñuha dārilaros • my prince/my princess • summary: another celebration, another wedding

• chapter 5 • ñuha zaldrītsos • my little dragon • summary: you prove that you have more than enough fire in you

• chapter 6 • ñuha dārys • my king summary: a new king is crowned

AS IF! ― SERIES MASTERLIST

“Were I to fall in love, indeed, it would be a different thing; but I have never been in love; it is not my way, or my nature; and I do not think I ever shall.”

― Jane Austen, Emma

Pairing: Modern!Aemond Targaryen x Fem!Tyrell!Reader

Rating: Explicit. Trigger warnings will be placed in 18+ chapters.

“Clueless” inspired. Dedicated to all virgins who can't drive.

Summary: (Y/N) Tyrell lives her life just like an ordinary girl - big mansion, wealthy lawyer as a father, getting absolutely everything she wants. Without any worries of her own, as she keeps boys at a respectful distance, she is the perfect candidate to serve as matchmaker for everybody in town. Especially clueless new girls.

No worries of her own. If only the ridiculously handsome and intelligent Aemond Targaryen hadn't found himself right in the middle of her matchmaking games. And in her house as well, how lovely.

But surely it won't be a problem? She doesn't even care.

Ugh, as if...

COMING SOON

darilaros (princess) │ Chapter 2: Dolls

terms of endearment ‘verse: see my Masterlist for the correct series order!

Chapter 1 │Chapter 2 │Chapter 3 │Chapter 4 │Chapter 5 │Chapter 6 │Chapter 7 │Chapter 8 (Work In Progress!)

Synopsis: Lady Aemma brings a new child into the world—you. As the second daughter of Prince Viserys, soon to be King, you experience firsthand what it means to belong to the House of the Dragon.

Hello! My apologies for the wait. There was a whole mess of stuff that killed my drive to write for a few days. BUT, I’ve managed to write this one, featuring baby!Babey as a POV character! I’ve tried hard to keep it in a ‘small person’ voice, which got real old real fast, lol. Keep in mind that she’s around 3 years old in this one, so she’s not hella mature or anything. My thanks to @ewanmitchellcrumbs​ for reading this asshole over, lol.

TRIGGERS: child doing child things, child narrating Episode 1 of HotD, character death.

Keep reading

The Impossible Choice Series Masterlist 🤎

[ Aemond • Targaryen x Baratheon! • fem!reader]

[warnings: sex content, oral sex, smut, angst, domination, swearing, physical violence, murder]

[description: Aemond comes to Storm’s End to choose his future consort. However, Lord Borros Baratheon presents him with only four of his five daughters. Being attached to his youngest child, he does not want to marry her. The prince, however, thwarts his and her plans with his decision. This is slow burn, with a lot of dark angst and sexual tension. (Anon Request)]

• This is ongoing series and I will upload new chapters here •

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6 - Part 7 - Part 8 - Part 9 - Part 10 - Part 11 - Part 12 - Part 13 - Part 14 - Part 15 - Part 16 - Part 17 - Part 18 - Part 19 - Part 20 - Part 21 - Part 22 - Part 23 - Part 24 - Part 25 - Part 26 - Part 27 - Part 28 - Part 29 - Part 30 - Part 31 - Part 32 - Part 33 - Part 34 - ?

Lady Baratheon Moodboard

Prince Aemond Moodboard

Lady Baratheon Gowns Moodboard

Princess Helaena Moodboard

Alys Rivers Moodboard

Music Themes Moodboard

Storm's End Stronghold Moodboard

Baratheon Family Moodboard

𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐞𝐭 𝐮𝐩 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 ↴

𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆: you've been one of the pogues since childhood, and your loyalty has always lied within your friend group, who is practically your family. when a threat by the name of rafe cameron begins to threaten the pogue's plans, they assign you to gain the trust of the dubious kook and keep an eye on what he's up to. however, now it's been six months since your friends set you up to spy on the kook prince himself, but what you didn't anticipate was to fall head over heels for the boy. your relationship had soon become inviolable shortly after your guys' first exchanges, much to your friends' dismay, and you two became practically inseperable. that was, until rafe discovers the truth.

genre: angst, smut, fluff

warnings: contains mature themes, violence, substance abuse, alcohol use, addiction, sexually explicit scenes, assault (non-sexual)

↪ one

↪ two

↪ three

↪ four

↪ five

↪ six

↪ seven

↪ eight

↪ nine (coming soon)

© rafesapologist 2023

Maroon (part three)

modern!Aemond Targaryen x f!reader

You were standin' hollow-eyed in the hallway Carnations you had thought were roses, that's us

A series loosely based on the song Maroon of off Midnights by Taylor Swift ▪︎ read more Daemon & Aemond midnights imagines here: masterlist

series list: part one - part two - part three -

themes/warnings: angst!, mutual pining, jealous!Aemond, language, description of accident/injury, Aemond in his stalker era

word count: 8.7k

a/n: proposed ages of the characters in this series - Viserys (64), Daemon (55), Alicent (53), Rhaenyra (44), Aemond (26), Helaena (25), Daeron (22), Aegon (30), Lucerys (22), Jacaerys (25), Joffrey (15), Alys (35) ---- as much as I'd like to pretend this took 5 minutes... heh. The Math simply wasn't Mathing for a long while. Anywho, just thought I'd write this in since I've aged up the characters.

Also - with all the time I've spent on this fic, I've decided to ultimately restructure part three. So part four will cover the night of the Dragonstone ball, where it's all about to go down.

Everything that occurs leading up to the Dragonstone ball - the outcome of the accident, Aemond struggling with his current state, and the reader left hoping for a love, that perhaps, never truly was.

Lucerys Velaryon has already garnered quite the reputation, at only 22 years old. 

A darling of the masses, everyone loved the young heir to Driftmark, a great company built by his grandfather, the notorious shipping tycoon, Corlys Velaryon.

But having the name Velaryon is a double-edged sword for Luke.

It only increases his privilege and prestige, already being a Targaryen on his mother’s side. Luke is set for life; he has everything he could ever need at his disposal. As a young boy, he has always enjoyed cars. Tinkering with them under the guidance of his father Laenor, as well as his uncle Daemon. Luke got himself into kart racing at the age of 9. Illegal street racing, much to his mother’s disappointment, at the age of 14. And just recently, he has been competing in Formula 2 division racing.

From the outside, he is just like any other boy. Apart from the fact that his family is literally worth billions, that is. 

But Luke has never been content. He has never been self-assured, borne out of the truth, one that everyone simply chooses not to mention, that Laenor Velaryon is not his true father. That he is a bastard, and therefore, not the rightful heir to Driftmark. He has always known this, despite his mother’s pleas otherwise. He knows this each time he hears the employees of Driftmark whisper amongst themselves after he passes by. Whenever he is invited to sit in the council meeting of the company, he feels his true status in how the shareholders disregard his opinions like he’s just some intern.

He grew up amidst the tension between himself and his brothers, and their young uncles, especially Aemond. When Aemond and Lucerys were growing up together, they simply did not learn to exist well around one another. Luke had bullied his young uncle long ago - an act of rebellion, of a boy growing up with resentment in his bones -  when Aemond had been weak and scrawny as a child. Aemond retaliated in kind; but he finally matured and found some inner calm in his mid-twenties. A year or two before you met him.

Luke's uneasiness has only worsened, now that he is nearly set to take his place on Driftmark. Since his family hails from Valyria, everyone expects them to uphold the tradition of only passing down inheritance to rightful heirs. Never bastard children or outliers.

But what the hell. Luke has never been one to follow the rules. His very existence does not abide by them, so why should he?

The night of the accident, Luke had to sit in yet another board meeting for the company. This time, Aemond was there too. Only he was treated as he should, being a Targaryen. Like someone capable, someone worthy. 

It should not have made any difference, really. Luke thought he was used to it all by now - the stares, the hushed whispers, the poorly masked scorn. They think Aegon or Aemond to be more competent. If the board had their way, it would not be Luke who would inherit Driftmark. Perhaps, his grandfather’s brother, Vaemond. Or hell, even his cousins Baela and Rhaena, though they never expressed any interest in the business.

Anyone but Luke.

-----------------------------

As a child, Aemond Targaryen saw himself as some kind of a ghost. A spectre simply moving around his family, their company, their horde of sycophants. Not the first to be considered. Not the designated heir to anything. The second son of the owner and chief executive of Dragonstone, and his much younger, barely beloved second wife.

Once upon a time, his father Viserys had been well and truly happy. 

He was married to the love of his life, Aemma, and they had a lovely daughter who was loved by all due to her charm and fiery nature. 

When Aemma passed in childbirth, Viserys had been near inconsolable. But he could not remain so for very long. Soon enough, his board of trustees, his advisors, urged him to remarry. He did not have an heir yet after all, and as per tradition, he soon needed to have a son so that he might raise him to become the next CEO and owner of their business empire.

But Viserys decided to essentially bypass such tradition, for less than a year after his wife’s passing, he had publicly announced his only daughter as his successor. It did not matter what the board of trustees or the shareholders preferred. They may have considerable sway over the affairs of the company, but in the end, the word of Viserys prevails.

And so Aemond and his three siblings have been pushed to the periphery. Not that they ever stood a chance anyway. In the end, their father will always uphold his precious Rhaenyra over them. Their mother plays the part of a mere trophy wife, though she is a noble Hightower herself, having to feign contentment in spite of all the times she and her children are slighted. 

Aemond thought himself calmer now, and matured. Painstakingly made every effort to be far from that weak boy who had no place anywhere. He is still unsure if he likes the person that he is, and perhaps he never has. But he morphed - or masked - this self-loathing into an unfailing desire to do better, to be better. He’s always wanted more. And he has learned to be strong for his mother, his sister. Himself. 

And now, you. How unpredictable you had been, bursting into his life like the Dornish comet of ‘07. He knew early on that you liked him, sort of, with how your eyes would dart back and forth to his direction whenever he’s in the room. 

It made him uneasy, at first, when his looks developed in such a way that garnered him plenty of attention. The spectre of the city turned ‘Prince of the city’, a strapping young man who can have anyone he wishes. 

But, funnily enough, all those socialites, models, glorified urban princesses with millionaire parents, Aegon’s harem of traditionally near-perfect friends from Lys that he often offers - none of them ever stood a chance to you, his sister Helaena’s earnest, gentle, and quick-witted best friend. 

Aemond would be lying if he said he fell for you immediately. It would be far from his nature to do such a thing. But he had, slowly, found himself enveloped in your light, and only feeling warm, only feeling home - only feeling like he could truly love himself - when you look at him with those soul-piercing eyes of yours. Maybe he isn’t so bad after all, if you can see him in the way you do. And he trusts your judgement; when you profess to want him in turn,  then he must be worth more than he thinks.

But the night of the accident, his forsaken shadow seemed to envelop him like an old friend. One that he can never shake. His anger, his darkness. He had long buried the Aemond Targaryen who frequently got into fistfights. The Aemond who deliberately ordered the expulsion of certain people he simply did not like from the employ of their company. The Aemond who chose to openly mock the truth of his raven-haired cousins’ parentage.

That night, that Aemond resurfaced, and with dire consequences. 

The night of the accident, four months before the Dragonstone ball

The storm had begun just before the board meeting ended. Heavy rain spattered against the Driftmark tower, with the night sky illuminated by streaks of lightning.

Aemond and Lucerys were coming to a head at the council table, and the other members were having to intervene at multiple points, just to mitigate the rising tension. The storm brewing inside the young men’s hearts could easily rival the one threatening to flood the streets.

Lucerys repeatedly interrupted Aemond’s suggestions, having grown tired of his own being cast aside by everyone else. 

“Wait for your turn to speak, my Strong nephew.” Aemond smoothly countered when he did not get to finish addressing Vaemond Velaryon.

“I didn’t think what you were saying was particularly important, uncle.” Luke retaliated in kind.

“Hmm. Some things never change, it seems. You still don’t know your place.”

“My place will soon be the highest seat of Driftmark. And you will still be grandfather’s second son, a mere placeholder at Dragonstone.”

“Please, sirs,” the meeting director complained. “We must get on with more urgent matters.”

Aemond and Luke barely contribute for the remaining minutes, opting to glare and sneer at each other from across the table.

But their council tiffs would not end up being the most unpleasant occurrence for that night. As if the storm also cast its darkness over their reasoning, they soon found themselves racing towards Gods Eye.

-----------------------------

It was meant to be a game. A show of bravado. Two young men, though in their depths still wounded boys, found themselves spewing offenses in an attempt to lower the other.

“You might inherit Driftmark, but everyone knows the truth, plain as day. You will always be a bastard.”

“Sure, but I am still more than you. What have you ever truly accomplished, uncle? Poor y/n, if she’s fallen for your tricks. Does she know who you truly are? She’s too bloody good for you.”

When Luke raised the challenge of racing to the edge of the cliff of Gods Eye, Aemond grasped at the opportunity to humiliate his nephew. To prove all of his claims to be wrong.

It might have been either one of them, or both, who deigned to edge their car close to the other’s, trying to veer it off course. Just a little nudge to make it spin out of the road.

But the turbulent weather was strong, causing mud and water to pool along the gravel. When the cars collided, Aemond’s took the brunt of the hit. Before he could even register the impact, his car was already spinning right towards the treeline. 

Luke had veered off road, his car rotating upside down. His right leg suffered from multiple fractures, including a busted knee cap.

But Aemond… 

His screams resounded despite the ceaseless pattering of rain, louder than even the roaring thunder overhead. A shard of glass had been wedged deep on one side of his face, splitting the flesh open. 

So much blood had pooled into his one remaining eye, that he feared he went entirely blind. The memory of your face flashed across his mind, and he despaired at the thought of never being able to see you again.

Later in the operating room, when the full extent of his injuries was delineated to him, Aemond thought that perhaps, it is you who would never want to see him again.

Why would you, with what has now become of his appearance?

Two months before the Dragonstone ball

You’re finding it hard not to keep tabs on Aemond, still asking Helaena every now and then if he’s really alright. To which she always responds with some version of “He’s okay. He just needs some time.”

Time. That’s fine. You suppose that the accident must have shaken him up, enough to cause him to go into hiding and to avoid everyone.

Unfortunately… painfully, including you. 

You find your mind drifting back to him every day - during your lectures, at work, at home, whenever you’re spending time with Helaena and you’re trying so hard to simply not just pester her about her brother. 

You think back to those secret moments you shared in crowded rooms, up in their penthouse, whenever Aegon would throw a party. Back then, you did not know one another yet, not really. But he would sit on the couch adjacent to yours, shoot you a smile, and silently keep you company while you wait for Helaena to return. He did so because he could sense that you were anxious, and that loud gatherings aren’t really your thing, as he revealed to you when you were… dating. As short of a time as that might have been. 

Gradually, you got to know him, in all those rare moments. His knowing, mischievous smiles. The subtitles nuances in his expression. His calculated manner of speaking.

You knew him, you had him, you lost him. Well, you do still know him - he is your friend, is he not? But it just as well could have been the end, the night of the accident. He has become a kind of spectre to you, leaving you yearning for what could have been. 

Weekends offer some respite from the whole ordeal of having to miss him. Your job at the bookstore allows you to just sit in silence, entertain customers once in a while, and bury your nose in your book-of-the-week.

Once in a while, a friend even drops by. This time, Jace burst through the entryway, bell chiming in his wake, beaming with a brown takeaway bag in one hand.

“Hey, stranger,” you put down your novel, and leave your post on the counter to greet your dear friend with a tight hug. Jace takes note of the fact that your smile doesn’t reach your eyes, and his spirits sink. But he immediately gets to work on making you feel better.

“I’d say you’re going to love me for this, but you probably do already,” he says, presenting you with the paper bag.

“Don’t be so sure,” you jokingly say, narrowing your eyes at him, before peering inside, hit with the aroma of freshly brewed coffee and pastries.

You shrug, starting to dig in with no hesitation. “Actually, good of you to be sure.”

He laughs as you drop the bag on the counter, and rip it open to reveal all the goods. He takes his own coffee and leans closer to have a bite of the profiterole you eagerly wave in front of his face.

“Thanks,” you manage to puff out, with a mouthful of pastry. 

“Anytime, sweet.” Jace swallows, giving you a once over. “How are you holding up?”

It’s hard to act all nonchalant when he gives me those puppy-dog eyes. Jace’s innate sincerity almost makes you want to just cave in and vent all about Aemond.  “Nice of you to be concerned, but it’s not like I was the one who got into an accident.”

“I know, sassy, but I also know that you and Aemond were… you have seen him recently, no?” he asks, sounding certain of the answer to his question, which downright confuses you.

“No,” you shake your head. “Along with the rest of the city, I haven’t seen nor heard anything from him.”

“Really?” he remarks, incredulous.

“Come on, Jace,” you take a comforting sip of coffee, still warm. “You know this. He doesn’t want to see me.”

“Huh,” his head tilts back slightly as he mulls over your response. “It’s just…”

“What?”

“I could’ve sworn that was his car parked across the street. Right outside.” he says, jutting his thumb over his shoulder. You freeze, but your eyes are drawn straight toward the shop windows.

“That’s not - ,” That’s not possible, you want to say. But your feet already drag you to the edge of the shop, with Jace in tow. “Which one is his?” you ask, knowing Aemond’s got quite a few cars, privileged boy that he is. Your voice comes out in a hushed tone, as if you don’t want Aemond himself to hear. Ridiculous, you chide yourself, it probably isn’t even him.

“That silver Jaguar idling on the curb,” Jace answers, and you see it. Slantwise on the opposite side of the road, stopped right before the bus stop across the bookshop.

“Are you sure?”What the hell could he be here for? You didn’t want to admit it, but you feel the hope right in your bones. You want him here, of course. You want him to come see you.

“Yes,” Jace easily replies. “There’s only one vehicle in the city with that personalized plate."

Before you can stop yourself, you take a tentative step outside, hand still on the shop door.. I’m sure he can see me, if he’s really there.

The windows of the Jaguar have the darkest tint, making it nearly impossible to see inside. 

“That’s him,” Jace says from behind you. “He doesn’t let anyone else drive his cars. I even thought he was already inside the shop when I arrived.”

“Well shit,” you breathe, your heart racing in your chest. “What do I do?”

“What is he doing?”

“Fuck it.” You only manage to take a step forward on the sidewalk before the car roars to life, engine purring smoothly. Aemond maneuvers the car from its spot and leaves, driving right past you, a cloud of leaves and dust billowing all around.

“What the fuck?” Jace scoffs, thoughtfully waving his arm around to keep the dust from your face. “What is he on?”

“Aemond,” his name escapes your lips in a soft whisper. A silent plea that will never reach him, but you say it all the same. That it doesn’t matter to you, whatever state he is in after the accident. That even though he chose Alys over you, you can understand, or at least try to. He is still the same boy who captured your heart not so long ago. 

But why did he just leave? What is he so scared of?

“Come on,” Jace says, holding the door open for you. “Your coffee’s getting cold.”

When you go past the entryway, you turn on your heel and hang up the ‘On a break. Come back soon’ sign on the door. Sighing heavily, you shrug at Jace, “What a day, huh. You sure know how to bring drama with you.”

Jace only smiles, well-used to your banter, “How is this my fault?”

“I dunno,” you raise your hands, and walk back to the counter. You’re not sure how you feel at the moment - anxious, worried, disappointed? It’s all up in a haze since Aemond suspiciously drove off, and so, you can’t control the flood of dry sarcasm spilling out of you. Like some kind of coping mechanism. “You must have called Aemond here, so you two can drive my poor heart into a frenzy. Like I don’t already have a lot on my plate.”

“Oh yeah, definitely.” Jace slowly nods, playing along. “Aemond hasn’t even spoken to me since everything went down. But I definitely sought him out today, and definitely forced him to watch you from out there in his car like some obsessed creep.”

“I knew it!”

-----------------------------

Fifteen minutes into your impromptu break, the tone has lightened to some degree, and you sit at a corner table with Jace, sipping the remains of your coffee.

After a lot more banter, and catching up about Luke, Joff, and the rest of his family - those who can still tolerate your presence,that is - Jace finds you staring blankly at a bookshelf. “Hey,” he says, “I don’t think my uncle is hiding in between those books.”

“Ha-ha.”

“Anyway, enough about him, eh?” Jace offers, taking your hand from across the table. “I actually wanted to ask you something.”

You squeeze his hand in return, staring back into his doe brown eyes, “Yeah?”

“Seeing as Aemond isn’t taking you to the Dragonstone ball,” he pauses, gauging your reaction. He decides that it’s all good when you remain impassive, “How would you like to come with me instead? I did mean to ask you, you know, but dear uncle beat me to it.”

“Oh.” Your hand loosens around his a bit, as you take in his words. “Well, I mean I would love to but - ”

Jace adds quickly, as if he is already reading the thoughts whirring through your mind. “No pretenses about it, I assure you. I’m not expecting anything else. Just that you honour me by being my partner to the ball.”

“Mmm,” your shoulders relax, and you find yourself smiling at Jace’s heartfelt nature. One that immediately warmed you to him when you first met. “Partners, huh?”

His tongue makes a clicking sound in confirmation. “What do you say?” 

“Jace,” you start, weighing the options in your mind. “I would go with you, of course - ”

“That settles it then.”

“- but I just… I don’t know, if… Aemond does not want to see me, maybe I shouldn’t just show up at the ball?”

Jace rolls his eyes, “He doesn’t own the bloody ball, you know. He can’t control whether you come or not.” He leans in, voice lowering like he’s sharing a devious ploy, “Besides, if he doesn’t want to see you, then why would he be loitering across the street simply to watch you through the shop windows? Let’s be real now, eh?”

Fair point. You reply, “Far be it from me to know what he’s up to.”

“So come to the ball with me and ask him yourself. I’ll even back you up. With my own pitchfork and everything.” The way his eyes blaze in excitement sparks something in you. Being around Jace is always fun, like you’re free to do anything - you could even cause any kind of trouble and he would only be cheering you on. 

If only… if only you liked him the way you do a certain someone, then you might actually have a greater sense of calm. Your self-doubt might be assuaged, your days brighter. 

But no. It is Aemond who fills your wandering thoughts. Aemond who haunts your sleepless nights. It was him who nearly made your heart stop that night on their rooftop, who laughed with you and held you close when you were a fumbling, wine-stained mess. 

Perhaps unfortunately so… it is Aemond whom you love.

That realization makes you straighten in your seat, scaring some sense back into you. Fuck, what am I even thinking? It’s Jace right in front of me. Jace who is asking me to the ball. 

“You got yourself a deal, mister,” you playfully hold your hand out for him to shake.

-----------------------------

Later that night, the Targaryen penthouse in the Crownlands Tower is relatively quiet. Most of the family is away, save for Helaena, their housekeeper Talia…

… and Aemond, who sits in front of his desk, staring at the object atop it which is aglow under lamplight. His eye drifts to the metal surface of the lampshade itself, and he sees it. A scar stretched from his forehead to his cheekbone, with its edges tinged with maroon. 

Revolting. It’ll take some time to heal, they all say. Well it’s been two long fucking months, and it doesn’t feel any better. Nothing feels right.

It isn’t fair, his mother wailed upon seeing him. None of this is. It was the rogue Lucerys’ fault, she insisted, for egging Aemond to go on a damned speed chase in the middle of fucking storm.

His father Viserys merely appraised him for a long moment, before mumbling something that sounded like, “I am sorry this happened, but you’ll be alright”. Then to his mother, “Lucerys is injured as well. This is what they’ve always done, as you know. Luke and Aemond don’t really get along but they’re grown now.”

He added with a warning gaze to Aemond, “They have to learn to be civil to one another. We are all family, after all.”

“Family,” Alicent spat the word like a curse. “Family should not be the cause of grievous harm.”

Aemond remembers the shrug that Viserys did. It is a gesture he has seen endlessly, it might even be the first thing he remembers of his father. All of his pains, and his achievements will always be met with a nonchalant gesture. Some father he is.

There’s only one thing that would make Aemond feel better in this moment, and even that, he cannot allow himself to have. He shall not present himself, this self, to you. He looks at his reflection and he hates what he sees. Perhaps he always has. But he also learned to love himself around you. How easy it can be, like second nature. 

Maybe he was drawn to the fact that you are not from his world, with all its intrigue and playacting. How you choose not to perceive status as a tool, and how you can be kind to anyone. You, the girl who always keeps a book in her bag, even at parties, even if she most likely won’t have time to read it. Just in case, you had said, you never know. You, though very well-mannered, called one of Helaena’s so-called friends a “spoiled cunt”, when you heard her making nasty jokes at Helaena’s expense behind her back.

“Sorry you had to hear that,” you had said to Aemond in a grumbling tone, still quite irate, when you found out that he was just in the library adjacent to their living room. “They were just being so… so…”

“Fucking rude?” he finished your thought, his dimples showing in amusement when your eyes widened. “Don’t worry, doll. Maybe I would have done the same. Though that Beatrice would never say shit about Helaena in front of me, seeing as she tried to claw off my jacket once. Her fake nail got caught in the leather. Her attempt at seduction, I suppose.”

Your mouth fell open, then closed once more. You were at a loss. Your blood was just boiling at having to confront Beatrice, who has thankfully left the penthouse, and now Aemond is standing in front of you. Aemond, sharing some story, in good humour. About some girl trying to get with him, and failing. Later on, you will find yourself jumping in frustration in your living room, thinking how in the hell your mind must have short-circuited because you responded with, “It’s a good thing I keep my fingernails trimmed and plain then.”

It was Aemond's turn to stand there, lips parted in surprise at your sudden show of audacity. Where has this girl been hiding all this time? Or has she always been this way? Then your face morphs into one of shock, and you remain still, waiting for some other pin to drop. Something to distract Aemond so you can mumble some excuse and run away. Aemond observes the minute changes in your expression, like you’re struggling to get your bearings, and he finds it all endearing.

Suddenly, the door you had been leaning against is pried open, making you take a step closer to Aemond. An unruly, blonde mop of hair that can only belong to Aegon pokes itself inside, “What are you nerds doing in the damn library?”, then he turns on his heel letting the door slowly close on its hinges, “Never mind, I’m gonna get a drink!”

At the exact same time, you and Aemond burst out in a fit of laughter, the pure and melodic sound of it echoing throughout the room. The very first time that Aemond witnessed you laughing freely in front of him, and his thoughts would later drift back to this moment. To the way your eyes lit up, how your teeth clamped down on your bottom lip to keep from laughing harder, and how your dainty hand clasped his forearm, holding on to him for a while.

He did not know then, not yet at least, that he had started falling for you.

When your desire had become apparent, you did not attempt to cross a line. Correctly inferring that Aemond valued his solitude, you became content with admiring him from afar, treasuring every small interaction. 

Everyone keeps remarking at how different he is around you, and maybe you do not realize the truth of their claims, because you had never seen him… like this. So broken. His mask of composure torn to shreds.

No longer the caring, attentive, and self-assured Aemond you claimed to desire. 

“Aemond?” Helaena's voice drifts from his door, which is opened narrowly. She silently lets herself inside when he does not respond.

“Care for some dinner?” she asks, her gentle voice almost breaking through Aemond’s resolve. Perhaps it might have been able to, but not anymore.

“No, I’m not hungry.” Aemond answers, barely audible.

“Right.” Helaena doesn’t press further; she knows that nothing will shake her brother while he’s in such a state, so she tries to bring up something else. Something that might get his attention. “So, I, uh… y/n just called me.”

Helaena notices Aemond slightly tense up at the mention of your name. So that’s what it takes, she thinks.

“Aemond,” she steps closer, now standing beside his chair. “Why were you outside the bookstore where she works?”

Aemond shuts his eyes. Of course you had seen him. And he saw you, clear as day. Beautiful as ever. With bloody Jace right next to you, laughing while sharing some coffee he had brought. 

“She misses you, you know,” Helaena says, and the words drive straight through Aemond’s heart. “I really think you just should speak to her.”

“Hmm.”

“What are you even afraid of?”

A long pause, as Helaena waits for a reply. Fidgeting with the edge of her sweater, she begins to say something more, when Aemond finally says, in a muffled, reluctant tone, “She deserves better.”

“Of course she does!” Helaena perches on the edge of Aemond’s desk, and his eye drifts over her for just a second, before looking down at the object again. “So call her and - ”

“Better than me.” Aemond clarifies, croaking the final word as if in pain.

“Oh, Aemond.” Helaena’s lifts an arm in an attempt to offer comfort, but Aemond instinctively flinches.

“No.” He breathes. “I can’t.”

Helaena nods in understanding, though her heart aches at the sight of her brother like this. She looks to the side, and sees the journal-seeming object sitting on his brother’s desk. The thing he seems to be staring at. 

Helaena lets her fingers run over the smooth forest green cover, and she instantly recognizes it to be Valyrian leather. A rare commodity, so this must not be just any ordinary journal.

“May I?” she whispers, to which her brother shrugs in response.

She gently pries open the leather clasp, and she sees a dedication on the first page, in a swooping scrawl that can only be Aemond’s. Some special ink was used, staining the page with a deep shade of maroon. It reads in High Valyrian, their native language - Ñuha prūmia iksis aōhon.

“I meant to give that to her… before…”

My heart is yours.

“Aemond-” Helaena mutters, her mind stuck on the words, and she knows exactly who they are meant for.

Aemond abruptly rises from his seat, and puts on his black coat, “Just put that back where you found it.” Reaching for something else on his desk, he puts it on his face to conceal his deformity.

Before her brother reaches the door, Helaena manages to voice out, “Where are you going?”

“Away.”

Two weeks before the Dragonstone ball

The accident finally seems to have departed from the mainstream, turning into fodder for small talk as all sensational news pieces do. 

Unsurprisingly, despite the tragic event, excitement abounds. The city is buzzing in anticipation. Everyone is already poring over the main list of attendees which has been made public online. You only glanced at it once to confirm that you are on the list as Jace’s partner, but something else catches your attention. You immediately close the tab in your browser after you read - Aemond Targaryen - and across from his name, as his designated partner - Alys Rivers.

“For fuck’s sake,” you sigh, biting your lip. You opt to open Youtube, but immediately your homepage reminds you of your recent activities. Not stalking, no. Just some curious research. Aemond has never been one to give interviews. That’s more in Aegon’s wheelhouse. Daeron especially, since he also works as a model, gracing the front cover of Vogue thrice already at only 22. 

When Aegon graces the headlines, it’s most likely due to some disorderly conduct at a high-class party or a local dive bar. True to his brand, there is no in-between when it comes to Aegon. It’s either go big or go home. Which usually means he ends up drunk on the sidewalk, having to call Aemond to pick him up and give him a ride without letting their parents know.

But they always find out, of course. It’s hard to be discreet when you’re one of the most recognizable faces in the country.

As for Aemond, you’ve always found it hard to find even a single crumb of him from the internet. Save for a couple of sightings, including those of him and Alys Rivers, and clippings from the few times when he would speak in press conferences on behalf of Dragonstone. But even those were kept mostly private, and not freely available on Youtube. 

As it happens, there have been some rumours of Aemond allegedly coming into blows with the Duke of Lannister and his entourage, after humiliating the man’s sister. Onlookers claimed that they saw the poor girl coming onto Aemond at some party in Pentos, flirting with him. Apparently, he was far from welcoming of her affections. There were some pictures of the fight, or at least, that’s what people say. You were not in the loop when the news spread, sitting through a lecture. Any trace of such pictures quickly vanished from the internet. The Targaryens are always on the lookout to protect their precious image, but they’ve never done anything so methodical when it comes to such occurrences, such as Aegon’s countless mishaps. 

Aemond does have an Instagram profile. You asked him about it once, ages ago, even before your brief - what would you call it… Tryst? Dating period? Well, whatever it was, it’s all done for now.

“Was it your idea to have a profile anyway?” you asked him, after he had playfully teased you about stalking him. That was the only verified account of Aemond’s that you found, complete with the blue tick. His profile was empty, and the following list was at a whopping zero. Though of course, he had about 3.7 million followers, just waiting for the moment that he would choose to do anything on the site.

“Yeah, I suppose.” Aemond looked down and smiled, and you did not know it, but he found himself feeling warm due to the interest you were giving him. He’s confident about nearly everything, but when on the receiving end of attention from the woman he secretly longed for, he felt almost shy. “It was mostly due to the fact that I wanted to have one sole verified account online. I’ve heard talks of impersonators sending people messages and all that. Fucking annoying.”

“Ah, yeah.” You did not tell him, of course, but you knew of those fake accounts, having clicked on several slightly convincing ones to see if they were actually his. But none of them matched. You found yourself muttering, “He would never post that.”

“Didn’t hurt that I got to look through your pictures, too, love.” He smirked then, regaining his confidence. 

You nearly melted into a puddle on the fancy designer-carpeted floors of their apartment, right then and there.

That doesn’t matter now. You sigh, slamming your laptop shut. Instead you choose to dramatically jump onto your bed and growl your frustrations out onto a pillow. 

You roll over, amused at the whole thing. The digital alarm clock Helaena gave you reads 6:32 pm, it’s a Friday night, and you’re left with nothing to do. You’ve already finished the majority of your exams, and for the next month or two, you’re free to go on holiday and do whatever you wish.

But what? You finally decide to give Helaena a call, and reach for your phone on the nightstand. But right then, it lights up. ‘Hel’s Bells’ is calling you. An inside joke the two of you came up with about a week after you met.

“Speak of the devil,” you smile, and press accept. “Hel! I hope you’re just about as bored as I am.”

She laughs on the other end, “I don’t even have time to be bored. Mother has us doing all these preparations for the ball.”

“Do you need any help? I’m no expert at pomp and pageantry but I’ll do my best.” She had just stayed at your apartment a few nights ago for a sleepover, and you noticed that she was careful when mentioning anything about the ball. Trying not to stray into Aemond and Alys territory for your sake, you assumed.

“Sure, come over whenever you want. I don’t really have any idea what it’s all for, but hey, at least we get to put on fancy dresses and look pretty.”

“Oh, you always look pretty,” you say sincerely. 

“Thank you, doll,” she says, before sighing dramatically. “Anyway, I actually called to tell you something. You’re going to come over to our place on Sunday night. We’re throwing a little party.”

“A party, huh.” Will Aemond be there, you wanted to ask, but held back. 

You haven’t seen him for the last three months, after the fateful night of the accident. There was that incident when he parked outside the bookstore, but it was barely anything. 

Word on the street is that the ‘Prince of the city’ had gone into hiding, as comical as that sounds to you. For what exactly? There has been speculation - perhaps he was left horribly disfigured from the accident, which is also why there isn’t any trace of the alleged pictures taken of him in Pentos. But Helaena immediately dissuaded that notion. My brother is not disfigured, she insisted when you brought it up, he’s simply recovering.

If Aemond wants to keep things to himself, then he has the right to do so. He would tell you if he wanted. Call you, send you a message. Anything. 

“A party,” Helaena repeats. “It’ll be for our inner circle. Which includes you, of course. A little prequel to the ball, so everyone can catch up with each other.”

“Aegon’s idea?” you guessed with a wry smile. 

“There might be a direct correlation there, yeah,” Helaena laughs. “Anyway, come over! Since you’re coming with Jace to the ball, then we have to plan everything for you, too! What colour dress do you want to wear? Well, there is a theme but we’ll work with that. Mum assigned a stylist and hairdresser for me, which means they’re for you too and - ”

“Hel, I don’t really need - ”

Then she says something that puts a stop to your protest. “Oh, Aemond won’t know what’ll hit him.”

“Huh.” The thought of seeing Aemond again gives you a surge of excitement. And nervousness. Your yearning for him reawakens, but it never truly left.

Having made her point, Helaena knows she’s got you hook, line and sinker. “I’ll expect you in the next hour.”

-----------------------------

Sunday came rolling over soon enough, and the party at the Targaryen penthouse is well under way.

The ballroom on the 2nd floor is packed, filled with people whom you either don’t know or barely recognize. Of course, it wouldn’t be complete without some snooty heirs and heiresses who would openly regard you with what could be confusion or derision. Until a Targaryen or Velaryon would approach you and eagerly whisk you away in conversation.

“Who is she?” you hear someone say when Jace takes your hand and directs you to sit on the couch with him and Daeron. “Why is Jace so close to her? And what on earth is she wearing?”

Unfazed by it all, and already used to such comments, you smile sweetly in that girl’s direction and greet her with a friendly, “Hi, how are you doing?”, without giving her a chance to respond.

Jace watches the exchange proudly. As you sit down, he says, “Aegon invited her, I think. I don’t really know, I don’t like her much.”

“How come?” you jest. “You two have so much in common. Heirs to the kingdom and all that.” Your sarcasm again comes out of you in waves, trying to temper your nerves. You look around the room, though it is not the first time you’ve scanned through everything. 

“I’d much prefer your company,” Jace easily says, then notices your divided attention. “He isn’t here.”

In a transparent attempt at surprise, you ask,“Who?”

Daeron overhears the exchange, after his friend stands up to get a drink. “Aemond’s not here, y/n. At least I haven’t seen him. Last I heard he was holed up in our holiday estate in Pentos.”

“Oh.” Your face visibly falls. You didn’t know what to expect, really. Of course Aemond would  not just show up at this party after avoiding everyone for too long.

“He will be at the Dragonstone ball though,” Daeron pats your knee in sympathy. “He might be going through some shit, but mum would lynch him if he misses that event.”

Jace and Daeron continue to look at you, seeing if they need to offer more comfort, and you can’t stand it. “Alright, you two. Thanks for… I don’t know… but this is a party! We should just go and have fun. No need to be concerned about me and…” You choke up at his name, negating your false show of indifference. 

“Okay,” Jace says, saving you from saying anything further. “How about I get you a drink, hmm?”

“Yeah,” you say, but something crosses your mind. You stand at the same time as Jace, grabbing his arm, “Actually, I’ll go get some air first.”

“Are you alright?” This time, Jace’s sincere gaze is not enough to distract you from that familiar gnawing ache.

“I am,” you smile placatingly. “I’ll see you in a few minutes.”

-----------------------------

Aemond Targaryen, contrary to what everyone in the party believes, is no longer wasting his days in Pentos. 

He had slipped back into the city earlier that night, and in the safety of their 7-floor penthouse. Right in time for the revelry. He has no intention of making an appearance, but when Helaena let it slip that you would be attending, he could not help himself.

The fact that you would be under the same roof was enough to get Aemond to scurry back home. While he might not be ready to show himself just yet, there are methods which allow him to see you. Watch you.

Helaena would probably smack him upside the head, if she found out. That not only had Aemond come back without telling her, but also that he is watching her friend through the CCTV cameras littered throughout the penthouse. 

Perhaps it is unsavoury, and you might cross your arms and huff at him if you found out. Oh, what I would give to see that in person. But he’ll take what he can get. Do what he must. To still have you, still see you. 

His left knuckle is taut, still bandaged and bruised from his recent activities. Luckily, the stitches on his face had not come loose and the medical treatment his mother is putting him through has done considerable wonders. What would you think, I wonder, if you saw me like this, my love.

His laptop is propped up on his desk, right next to the green journal he means to give you. On the screen, he watches as you trail Helaena for a while. As you sit alone, watching everything unfold. As Jace comes for you, and you sit together on a couch. Too close. Too comfortable for Aemond’s liking. Is something going on between you and my fucking Strong nephew? 

When news reached him that you would be coming to the ball with Jace, Aemond had broken something. He can barely remember what it was, just the sound of it shattering against the wall. A wine bottle? A vase? A mirror? Whatever it was sent his company fleeing from their table, and Criston had rushed forward to make sure that he wasn’t harmed.

Aemond glares at the screen you walk after Jace and whisper something close to his ear. 

Jace regards you for a long while. He better not…

But then you nod and smile, stepping away from him. Aemond finds himself breathing a sigh of relief, predictably, and he almost snorts at his own reaction. 

You walk out of the ballroom, and Aemond has to switch between cameras to follow your path. You pause down the hallway, and lean next to the wall.

What are you doing, ñuha jorrāelagon?

Seemingly decided on something, you swing the door to the staircase, forgoing the elevator. The cameras on each landing track you as you continue to climb upward, panting slightly when you finally reach the entrance to the rooftop.

You take slow, sure steps toward the golden railing. For a moment, you just stand there, seemingly watching the city below.

I have to see you. I have to try. In a split decision, Aemond slinkers out of his room, the party below still unaware of his presence. 

Then he heads up the flight of stairs as you had done, feeling more apprehensive with each step. What do I even say to you? Do you still want to see me? He finally reaches the final landing, and heart in his throat, he pries the door open as silently as possible.

You no longer stand at the railing. Instead, he spies you sitting on the plush seat the two of you shared on that one night. Facing away from the entrance, looking up at the stars. 

Aemond knows that isn’t as it was before. He cannot simply approach you and watch as your eyes immediately welcome the sight of him. It’s not the same, and it is all his fault. He wonders if your heart might still race because of him, or will it have become cold, after all this time?

He draws closer, with each footstep uncertain. But your pull is stronger, taking precedence over all of his worries. 

“I miss you,” is all he can bring himself to say, throwing caution to the wind. You freeze at the sound of his voice. 

Then a shiver runs up his spine as it dawns on him - in his haste to see you, he left his eyepatch in his room below.

-----------------------------

I must be dreaming. The hairs along your arms stand in your shock, and you keep both hands flat on the seat to keep you steady. 

Is it… You start to turn back, but cease all movement when Aemond pleads, “Don’t. Please don’t turn around.”

“Aemond?” your voice is shaky, and you feel a tear threaten to escape. “They said… we all thought…”

“They do not know that I am back yet,” he answers. “Just you.”

“Oh.” Your head is still turned to the side, and you have to fight the urge to simply rise from your seat and face him. You exhale, trying to calm down. When that doesn’t work, you lean back against the seat, and force yourself to count the windows on the building down the road. 

6… 7… 8… 

But the sudden feeling of his hands on your shoulders makes you lose all train of thought.

“Did you miss me?” Aemond asks, standing right behind your seat now, his sweater grazing the back of your head.

Your mind is flooded with thoughts of all that happened between the two of you - the beginning, the brief affair, the end. Is it the end? 

Answer him. “Did I miss you?” you bite your lip, and your brows scrunch in frustration. “Are you fucking kidding me?”

Your expletive makes Aemond take a step back. “I-I’m sorry…”

“I’ve been so worried about you, Aemond!” Your hands bunch up into fists beside you. You did not realize you had all this pent up anger, with the past few months being spent pining. Longing. Yearning. Like some silly little fool. When he didn’t even make any effort to reach out to you, and the most you got from him was that episode outside the bookstore.

“Oh yeah, and what the hell were you doing outside my place of work?” you stand then, and lean against the railing in front of you, careful not to turn and catch a glimpse of him. “You wanted to speak to me? Well, why didn’t you just do that?” You can feel your erratic heartbeat pounding in your chest, and for a moment you become afraid that it might just stop altogether. 

“I did want to speak to you. To see you.” Aemond sighs heavily. “I always want to see you, my darling. You’re all I’ve ever thought about since - ”

“Yeah, right. I bet you did.” You threw the offhand accusation over your shoulder.

“I did,” Aemond swears. “I miss you every day, I -”

His voice is softer than before, and kind of nervous. Your resolve is at risk of breaking, because… Why does Aemond sound… broken?

He finishes, “I just needed some time.”

There are so many more that you want to ask him - What really happened in that accident? Where have you been all this time? What is going on with you and Alys? Where do we truly stand?

But instead you mutter the one thing you are most certain of, “I miss you too.”

Aemond breathes a sigh of relief. He moves to stand behind you, and steps closer. 

Closer. You don’t dare move a muscle, because you just might turn around and forget about his request. He moves closer, until his chest is pressed against you from behind. Closer, until his hands squeeze both of yours on the railing.

You feel Aemond rest his face on your shoulder, inhaling deeply. At this point, he is practically enveloping you. Each breath he takes warms your neck. His thumbs run over your knuckles, and he says, “Are you still angry at me?”

“Should I be?” You lean your head back to rest on his right shoulder. From the corner of your eye, he looks as he always has. Almost ethereal, with his silver-blonde Targaryen hair and sharp, defined features. 

Aemond moves his head slightly toward the left, careful not to reveal the ruined side to you, when he feels your wandering gaze. 

“Please don’t be angry with me,” he pleads. You hum in affirmation, and in a lower voice, he purrs, “Close your eyes, darling.”

You try to ask why, but then you feel his lips lightly press against the nook between your neck and your shoulders. Your eyes flutter shut on their own goddamn volition.

His mouth parts even more, before coming down once again and nipping at your skin. His arms wrap themselves around your waist, and his hold tightens until your entire body is flush against him.

Still, you haven’t seen all of him. 

Your hand reaches up to touch him, and your fingertips graze the side of his face. When your thumb runs over a bit of what must be raised flesh, like some partially healed lesion, Aemond jumps away. At once, you feel the cool evening air hit you, the warmth of his embrace having gone.

“What is - ” you start to ask.

“It’s nothing.”

“Aemond…” you hesitate. What could possibly be so terrible, he won’t even allow me to look at him? “If anything happened to the way you look… it wouldn’t matter to me. You would still be the same boy that I lo - ” The words hitch in your throat, their sentiment heavier than anything you’ve ever said. 

Everything is at a standstill. Aemond does not say a single word, but you know that he understood what you were trying to say. He must.

And how can I even gauge his reaction when I can’t even look at him?

“Aemond?” 

Much to your surprise, his voice is already farther away when he responds with a hurried, “I’ll see you at the ball.” 

You swiftly turn around in your disbelief. Did he just fucking leave? 

The door to the penthouse shuts behind him, and you are left dumbfounded at his actions. The old Aemond would have never done that to you, but what do you know?

Perhaps my Aemond is truly gone.

The ball is coming up next!!! Reader may finally learn to let go of Aemond, or at least give him what he wants - a whole lot of space and time.

Also, reminder - Aemond's injury is still pretty fresh, considering the damage. So no, he hasn't stuck a sapphire in there yet. Imagine how little Aemond looked in episode 7, with angry stitches running down his face, but a bit more healed. His eye socket is still sewn shut, and it still causes him much pain, so go easy on our boy, y'all.

taglist still has some spots left! I've managed to continue it in the comments 🖤

and I would LOVE to hear your thoughts on this, and what you're hoping to read in the next part!!!

Series taglist: @caught-in-the-afterglow @aemondtargaryensrider @punggo66 @dollfaceyourfear @candypurplebutterfly @moonmaiden1996 @mxrgodsstuff @lolitaisreal @blue-serendipity @melsunshine @thejanecampaign @fxngsfxgxrty @padfooteyes @msmarvel-19 @tempo-rary-fix @lauraneedstochill @julczimozart @sarcasticfangirl @witchyvik @pyjama-shorts @bellaisasleep @zillahvathek @thincrusttheworks @krispold @yougotthatlove @raging-panda @fleetingly-artistic @throughgoeshamilton @polireader @katsav17 @minttea07 @kravitzwhore @meggiemay82 @hedonefox @daenysx @schniiipsel @namoreno @afro-hispwriter @aemondswifeisme @emcharra @malfoytargaryen @iiamthehybrid @fullmetalriotts @kellzlib @justsumtuffstuff @daydreamy-me @yentroucnagol @kezibear @queenofshinigamis @paprikaquinn