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bumblebeesfromvenus · 7 months

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My precious Jewel ♧

Bale!Bruce Wayne x soon-to-be wife!reader

A/N: I got carried away. I'm very passionate about Bale!Bruce and just lost control at one point. I'm not sorry, hehe! This is for all my Bale!Bruce girlies. Can be read for any Bruce, though! Enjoy!

~Fi 🪻

Prompt: Bruce spoiling you to the high heavens and only wanting your love in return.

Requested by: my lovely mutual @vampkennedy

Warnings: NFSW CONTENT. proceed with caution. PiV, creampie, very very fluffy, kinda possessive Bruce

Word count: 3.6k

PART 2 ♡

Please don't copy my work. I put a lot of effort and heart into the things I write.

❤️◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇💍◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇❤️

❤️◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇💍◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇❤️

There was not a morning where you didn't wake up like this. You were alone, yes, but you knew he wasn't far. He never was. This had turned into a game of sorts. A spiel where he would shower you in lavish gifts every single morning. It was his way of showing you just how much you meant to him and that you held his heart in your hands.

You sat up in your shared bed and stretched your arms, letting out a yawn. Your gaze fell to the sliver of light that your curtains couldn't keep out. Getting up, you followed it carefully, knowing that he wanted you to. He was Bruce Wayne, nothing was a coincidence. Everything was intenional. A small, red box sat on your vanity, a note right next to it. It was being perfectly illuminated by the slice of sunshine cutting through the darkness of the room. A smile crept onto your face as you read the note your lover had left you.

My beloved,

May this bring a sparkle to your life, just as you have brought to mine.

Love,

Bruce ♡

You rolled your eyes at how corny this was, but it still tugged at your heart strings in the best way possible. Every day there would be a new box and note for you to discover. Placing the gifts in just the right spot and, like today, draping the curtain just at the perfect angle to guide the way to his love. He was always awake before you were but that didn't stop him. He'd never missed a day and you doubt he ever would.

You looked forward to this as well, but not because of the jewelry or whatever other expensive gifts he had prepared. No. It was the notes. It were the cruelly scribbled down words that made your heart beat out of your chest.

You loved the gifts as well, but the notes held a special place in your heart. Putting down the piece of paper, you carefully picked up the tiny box and opened the lid. Your mouth fell slightly agape at the sight before you. In the smooth, white pillows sat a delicate necklace. It was glistening in the morning glow ever so nicely.

A beautifully crafted rose pendant hung from it, the intricate petals were cold to the touch as you gently grazed the tips of your fingers over them. This had been one of most extravagant presents he'd ever given you. Bruce did always call you his flower. You brought so much to his once dull and gray life; his heart and soul bloomed like the delicate daffodils did in early spring everytime he thought of you. You brought color and joy. Just like flowers did.

"Oh, Bruce..." you sniffled, the smile on your face hurting your cheeks. Carefully picking it up, you placed it around your neck and fastened the clasp. It fit perfectly, sitting ever so delicately on your skin. You admired yourself in your vanity mirror, your fingers slightly grazing the skin just around the necklace.

You couldn't wait to show Bruce. Yes, he'd picked it out but it looked so different on you than it did on the silken interior of the small box.

Throwing on one of your many, many silk robes that Bruce insisted on getting in every single color, you quickly made your way down the grand staircase. The cold marble tiles sending a delightfully cool feeling up your spine each time you took a step. You rushed down the stairs, a steady grasp on the railing. The sunlight streaming in through the many windows fell right onto your ring.

Slowing your pace, you held your hand up to the light and examined the shimmering band. A reminder of his love. He had proposed to you just a few days ago. It was incredibly special, just the two of you under the stars. He popped the question in the stunning garden of Wayne manor that Alfred worked so hard on.

Speaking of Alfred, he was more excited than either of you. He had to sit down and went through an entire box of tissues when you broke the news. What a kind soul. You had the dumbest smile on your face recalling the events from a couple of days ago. Letting out a squeal, you pressed your hands to your heart. You were getting married. Not only that, but to him. The love of your life.

You couldn't wait any longer, you had to see him. Hurrying the rest of the way to the dinning hall, you composed yourself before entering. And the sight. Dear God. Bruce was sat at the head of the table in his boxers and a white T-shirt, coffee cup in one hand, newspaper in the other. He looked so domestic, so peaceful. Not like previous nights where he'd limp in, all battered and bruised.

Slightly looking up, his furrowed brows were immediately replaced with a wide grin when he spotted you. Putting down the mug and the paper he got out of his chair, walking your way. You met him halfway, your arms thrown loosely around his neck as his snaked around your waist.

"If it isn't my beautiful wife." He grinned, tracing circles on your waist with his thumb. "Ah, soon-to-be wife." You corrected him, the smile on your cheeks never leaving. He chuckled lowly and shook his head. "What took you so long, Honey?" He questioned softly. You laughed at his eagerness to see you. "I was held up by your generosity, Mr. Wayne." You teased, taking one of his hands and placing it on your collarbone, right next to the stunning piece of jewelry.

His gaze fell to your neck and his smile faded, leaving him wide-eyed and with his mouth slightly agape. He tenderly caressed your soft skin with his thumb, tracing the shape of the necklace. "I knew it'd be perfect," He breathed out, followed by a breathy chuckle. Your cheeks flushed and you brought his hand up to your lips, placing a kiss on his knuckles.

"Thank you, Sweetheart. For all these precious gifts. For always making me wake up with a smile on my face. You've made me the happiest girl in the world." You confessed, the softest smile on your face. Bruce swear his heart just melted inside his chest. He made you the happiest girl in the world? You have no idea how happy you made him. He felt invincible, like the king of the world. He was convinced he only needed your love to accomplish whatever he set his mind to. You were his oxygen, the blood in his veins, the very spirit of his soul.

Bruce was determined to show you just how much you meant to him, if that was possible. "Anything for you, my love." He said, having the most adoring look in his eyes. You'd placed your hand on his cheek in the meantime, the golden engagement band cold against his skin. "I love you, Bruce." You whispered, gently leaning in for a tender kiss. He didn't hesitate, pulling you closer to him by your waist. You relaxed against his lips, tightening the grip you had on the back of his neck.

You needed more, you needed him. He chuckled against your lips but complied, deepening the kiss. Pulling away for air, you were breathless and your lips were puffy. He would kiss you breathless forever if he could. And God knows you would let him. His playboy days paid off for something because this man could kiss. And you loved how you were the only one to feel those kisses.

"Look at you. My eager, little wife." A sly smirk was on his face and he made sure to emphasize the last word. You opened your mouth to correct him again, but he quickly interrupted you with another breathtaking yet soft kiss. You didn't now why you were so easily flustered by his kisses, you'd been together for years. There just something so electric and new about being his. Truly being his. Him being yours.

"I know we're not married yet, but I can call you whatever I want. You're mine." He said lowly, pupils dilated. His grip on your waist tightend. He's never done that. Never called you his. Told you you were his. It was implied, of course, but he'd never said the actual words. You just stood there, face flushed to the high heavens with the biggest lovesick smile on your face. His tone softened again when he spoke.

"I want you to wear the necklace to the Gala tonight." Your brows furrowed and you slightly tilted your head in confusion. "What Gala?" You asked, no idea what he was talking about. "Oh, it's a... spontaneous thing. There's a new dress in the closet." He answered. You squinted your eyes in suspicion. "Spontaneous, huh? Also, we talked about this, Sweetheart. I don't need a new dress for every event! I've barely worn the other hundreds." You laughed.

He just grinned in response. You knew he loved to see you in something new each time, he loved spoiling you. Only the best for his love. "That's where we disagree. Would you wrap a diamond ring in used wrapping paper?" He teased. You playfully rolled your eyes at him. "No, I wouldn't." You sighed.

"All the other dress just can't keep up with your inner beauty." He breathed, a soft look in his eyes. You folded. You could never be upset with him for long, you loved him too much. "Fine, I'll wear it. You're lucky I love you," you pouted. He wanted you to never stop saying that. That you loved him. Something he'd longed for, for so long. To be loved, truly loved. Not for his money, his status, his looks. But because of who he was. And you did just that. From the odd noises he made when he slept, to the extremely bad jokes he made. You were always there, tending to his wounds, whether they affected his body or his soul. Holding him so softly after a hard night, he feared you'd crumble under his calloused hands.

"Well, I'll get ready for the day. I'll see you later, okay?" You said, pressing a quick peck to his lips. He hummed in response as you slipped from his grasp.

"Honey?" you turned around, already halfway up the stairs.

"There will be a lot more press and paparazzi there today," he said. "Why?" You asked curiously, fully turning around on the stairs. "They're expecting Mrs. Wayne." He shot you a wink and gave you one of those signature smiles as he walked away.

He was right. There were a lot more people. The streets leading up to the location were lined completely with camera wielding, and very nosy paparazzi and news anchors. Everyone was hoping to catch a glimpse. This was huge for the press. They probably thought that this day would never come. Bruce Wayne, Gothams millionaire playboy was settling down? Impossible. The moment you stepped out of the car they were all over you. Invading your personal space, shoving cameras and microphones in your face. This was sensational. They wanted to know more about the woman who tightly held Bruce Wayne's heart in her delicate hands.

They had written some pretty bad stuff about Bruce in the past, not that he cared. But when one peticular news article labeled you as just a trophy wife, all hell broke loose. He sued them until bankruptcy. How dare they. How dare they lable his wife, his world, his precious jewel, as just a trophy. You were the light of his life, you loved him and he loved you. He loved you more than they would ever know and he would burn them to the ground if they ever suggested otherwise again. No press had the guts to call you names again, or they would feel the wrath of a very in love Bruce Wayne.

He came to your rescue pretty quickly. Positioning himself between you and the paparazzi, acting as human shield. Bruce gently placed a hand on the small of your back and pushed you through the doors. You let out a breath you didn't know you held.

"Jesus, do they not have better things to do.." you mumbled, hooking your arm with his. "This is their job, so no, Honey." He grinned. You rolled your eyes at him. You knew that, but did they have to be so obnoxious? If they asked nicely maybe you would actually answer some of their absurd questions. You made your way into the center of the room where the upper class of Gotham was already mingling with a glass of very expensive champagne in hand.

Bruce couldn't stop glancing over at you. The floor length, satin gown was tailored to perfection, showing of your body in the best way. The rose necklace sat nicely around your neck, sparkling under the bright light of the many chandeliers. Your hair was in an updo, showing off your earrings perfectly as they lightly swaying as you walked. Your soft hands were decorated with the many rings he had showered you with, the extravagant engagement band catching everyone's eye.

God, you looked so elegant on his arm, almost floating along the granite floor. The bright smile on your lips melted his heart as you greeted people. Unimportant people, if you ask him. "You look absolutely beautiful, my love," he whispered in your ear, his breath fanning over your neck, sending a chill down your spine.

"You flatter me, Darling. I'm glad you wore this suit, it's my favorite," you gently ran your hand down his chest. It too, was tailored just right. His heart beat faster. He didn't know you had a favorite suit. One that you longed to see him wear because it just made him look that good. "What's this Gala for anyway?" You asked, toying with the lapel of his jacket.

"Oh, you know, just some... charity," he responded with a breathy laugh. You raised your eyebrows at him. Your eyes widened in realization and a knowing smirk made its way on your pretty face. "Did you plan this whole thing just to show me off?" You questioned amused. He stumbled over his words, a very rare occurrence.

"What? Of course not, Honey, that-that'd be absurd-" you interrupted him by pressing a finger over his lips. "Fine. Let them see. Let them see how much I love you." You whispered, smashing your lips to his in a hungry kiss. One hand was on the back of his neck, keeping him close to you, the other was steadied on his chest. His hands instinctively snaked around your middle, holding you tightly.

All eyes were on you, hushed whispers and gasps filling the room. You pulled away, chest heaving. Bruce's pupils were dilated. "God, you're perfect..." he whispered breathlessly. He couldn't wait to leave this stupid event and shower you in his affection.

The Gala was a success and you were finally back at the manor. You were standing in front of the mirror in your bedroom and admired yourself one last time before you'd take it all off. Bruce came up behind you, the jacket of his suit discarded and the sleeves of his shirt rolled up. He wrapped his strong arms around your waist and dropped his head into the crook of your neck, trailing kisses along your exposed skin. You let out a breathy laugh. "Look who's eager now," you teased.

Bruce chuckled against your neck. "Can you blame me when you look like that?" He said lowly. He dragged his hands up your back and slowly pulled the zipper to your dress down. With a gentle brush of his hand, he let the dress slip off your shoulders and onto the floor. You were left in nothing but your panties, which quickly joined your gown and the floor as he pushed them down your plush hips.

"You're a little overdressed, don't you think?" You said softly, yet seductively as he continued placing wet kisses along your bare shoulder and neck. "You tell me, Honey," he answered. The taste of your skin was intoxicating. You turned around, putting your hands on his chest and slowly pushing him towards the bed. When the back of his thighs hit the bed, he sat down, pulling you into his lap.

"I think you are," you mumbled hazily, unbuttoning his shirt and throwing it on the ground. You moved your hips over his hard cock, straining against his pants. A low groan erupted from his throat at your actions. You could feel your wetness dripping from you, leaving a wet patch on his crotch. He pulled you in for a desperate kiss as you reached down to unbuckle his belt and slip off his pants.

Bruce was left in his boxers, which were quickly taken care of. His throbbing cock sprung free, hitting his stomach. You took his dick into your ring clad hand and pumped up and down a few times, making his head fall back. "Fuck, Baby..." he groaned, squeezing your hips. Lifting your hips, you lined his length up with your pussy and sank down onto it, a long moan falling from your lips. "G-God.. you fit so well. It's like you were made for me.." you mumbled out, your hands finding their place on his shoulders. He was made for you, he was sure of it. He was yours, until the end.

He moaned out your name when you started moving your hips, which he guided with his hands. You tangled your fingers in his soft hair, occasionally tugging and pulling at it. Bruce looked up at you as you bounced on his cock. Your beautiful face was contorted in pleasure, and the jewelry he had bought you still adorned you so nicely. There was a layer of sweat covering your skin, making you shine. Just like your necklace glistened in the dimly lit room. You looked like a Goddess above him, decorated with delicate pieces of jewelry. Jewelry he bought for you.

God, he wasn't sure he wanted to fuck you another way ever again. Your ring was cold against his skin, reminding him that you were his. For him to take, however he pleased. He would buy every diamond in Gotham if it meant having a sight like this before him. Your hips started moving faster, as you moaned. "Shit...M'getting c-close," you breathed out, letting your head fall against his shoulder.

He was almost upset at you for taking away his privilege of admiring you, but he never got the chance once he heard your cute little moans and whines right beside his ear. "Me too, Honey, keep going.." he panted. You pressed your body to his, your tits sitting beautifully against his chest. Bruce glanced down and saw the curves of your soft tits adorned with the stunning necklace.

It molded to their curve so perfectly, making him tighten the grip on your hips, frantically moving you up and down his cock. He chased his release, your warm, wet walls feeling too good. You gasped as his dick hit that one that that made your head spin. "Oh fuck, I can't wait to call you my husband.." you rambled out, barely registering what you'd confessed.

That pushed him over the edge as he shot his load inside you with a guttural groan, filling you up. Your husband. That was music to his ears. That's all he wants, to be yours, to be loved by you. You clenched around him and came with a cry of his name. Panting, you pressed a tender kiss to his lips. "Did you mean that?" He asked quietly, kneading the flesh of your hips.

"Did I mean what?" You asked, breathing heavily. Bruce hestitated, letting out a nervous chuckle. "That you can't wait to call me your husband."

"Oh.. I did. I love you so much, Sweetheart. More than you'll ever know. My heart is yours, Bruce," you said softly, stroking his cheek. "I love you too, Honey." He responded, kissing you passionately.

"I'll draw us a bath," you breathed, raking your fingers through his locks. He hummed in response, reluctantly letting go of you. You slipped off his cock. He watched his cum trickling down your thigh as you walked towards the bathroom. He groaned at the sight, falling back onto the bed with a smile.

Bruce was laying with his head against your chest, surrounded by bubbles and soap. His back was pressed to your front and your hands were wrapped around him. You could feel him relax against you, the tension in his shoulders fading. "I keep them, you know," you said softly from behind him. The water rippled as he turned his head to look at you.

"Keep what?" He asked. "The notes. The ones you always place next to my gifts? I keep all of them," you spoke, tracing patterns on his pecs. "You do?" He smiled. "Yeah, I read them when you're gone and I'm feeling sad. They're in a box in my nightstand." You mumbled, pressing a kiss to the top of his head. "I love you so much, Honey," he said quietly. "I love you more, Bruce."

From that moment on, he put more effort into his notes. They keep getting longer and longer, almost turning into letters as he confessed his love to you every single day. You would still read them when you're old and gray, because his love for you would never fade. Just like how your love for him would never be lost to time, you would love him until the end, continuing in your next life. Your souls and hearts were bound, and they would never stop searching until they found eachother once again.

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#bumblebeesfromvenus #bale!bruce x reader #bale!bruce wayne #bale!batman x reader #the dark knight #batman begins #the dark knigth rises #christian bale #bruce wayne x reader #batman #bruce wayne smut #bale!bruce wayne smut

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asumofwords · 1 month

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Unsought Betrothal - Part 2 - Part One Here

Dark!Aemond x Reader Velaryon x Cregan Stark

Summary: After attempting to humilate your betrothed by laying with Lord Cregan Stark the night before your wedding in the hopes that Aemond would call the wedding off, you find that not only is he determined to still wed you, but also to punish you for your indiscretions. Part One Here

Pairings: Dark!Aemond x Reader, Cregan x Reader, Cregan x Aemond

Warnings: Arranged marriage, threats of violence, acts of violence, forced voyeurism, dubcon, elements of noncon, naked reader, clothed men, fingering, finger fucking, pussy slapping, p in v sex, creampie, pussy eating, cum eating, degradation, praise, voyeur.

Word Count: 13k oops... sorry

Notes: Wow, whelp, its been a while since I have posted some of my writing, and even longer since I wrote the first part of this abomination, but when you get the urge, you just gotta scratch it. Thank you all for all your beautiful messages of kindness as usual, I'm sorry I've been gone a while. I have had a bit of a rough time this year but hopes for a brighter future! Anyway, I hope you all enjoy this, and I hope I can write again very soon for you, hehe ;) Enjoy! <3

The wedding came just as it was planned. Just as it was arranged. Sleep had evaded you, anger and confusion clouding your mind with memories of the night before, ache still throbbing between your thighs. Your little attempt at stopping the engagement had no affect on your betrothed. No affect on the uncle you had grown up with. On the man you would now call husband.

You had thought that if you could humiliate Aemond in court by flirting with Lord Cregan Stark that he would call off the engagement. That the embarrassment would be too much for the pious prince. That the shame would turn him away from you, making him demand to his mother that they call off the engagement.

You had thought that maybe if you lost your maidenhead to the Northerner, Aemond would be so disgusted, so filled with rage, that he would call the engagement off, what with him being a dedicated follower of the Seven.

But you were wrong.

And so you spent an evening limping back into the Keep, escorted by none other than the One-eyed Prince himself and Ser Crispin. The front of your bodice had been ripped by Aemond's hands, but thankfully your hooded cloak covered up your sullied gown, the bottom of it dirtied with mud from where Aemond had bent you over in the alleyway and taken you roughly. With each step you took, you felt his seed slide down your legs, sticking to your inner thighs tackily.

When you got to your chambers, you used the small basin at your dressing table filled with water to wipe and wash away the blood and seed from your body, pain and a lingering dull ache causing you to jerk with each swipe.

You didn’t get much sleep that evening, staring blankly up at the ceiling. The urge to run was strong, to just leave out into the night through one of the secret passages and onto your dragons back, but the urge to stay was stronger. You hated him, truly hated him, but the way he had treated you that night, the fire in his eye, it lit something inside of you. It almost made you want him.

Need him.

Yet, there was another urge to stay, to make his life hell. To humiliate him at every turn, to ensure that he knew that forcing the engagement to continue would ensure him a life long marriage of discontent and disharmony.

You were not going to bend to his will. You were not going to bend to his needs, to bow at the husband, and say ‘yes’, and ‘thank you’, and ‘please’. You were going to be who you have always been.

A Valaryian.

Your eyes stayed open, watching as the ceiling eventually became light with the sun, indicating the break of dawn, and soon enough your maids were entering your chambers to get you ready to be wed. You were thankful that none of them asked questions about the dirtied ripped gown, or the bloodied rag in the basin, though you knew they were likely already aware.

The doors to your chambers opened as they pulled your hair back, pinning it atop your head in masses of braids with gold pins, tips glowing red with circular rubies. The colour of your mothers house dripping from you. Footsteps moved through your chambers, your head lifting to find Rhaenyra coming towards you, wearing a dress of black. Her silver hair half up, half down, small braids weaving around the back of her head beautifully.

A soft smile pulled on her lips as she came towards you, causing you to turn in your seat to fully face her. She looked sad and also lovingly devoted all at once. And whilst you knew it was not her greatest wish to marry you off to her half-brother, you also both knew that it was the only way to prevent bloodshed.

“My sweet.” Rhaenyra cooed, a slender hand coming to brush against your cheek dotingly, the scar on her arm from Alicent peeking beneath the cuff of her dress.

Blood already shed.

“Muña.” You smiled back, pulling her hand down into your lap.

Your mother leant forward and placed a kiss atop your head, “You look so beautiful, my love.”

“Thank you, mother.”

“Are you ready?” Her tone was gentle, as though she didn’t wish to startle you. As though she didn’t want to break the bubble that was the safety of your chambers.

The last time in your chambers as an unwed woman.

You gave her a reassuring smile, though it didn’t reach your eyes, and she could see it, “I must be.”

The small smile she had worn slid away, “This is not what I had intended for you. I did not wish to force you as I had been. I wish-“

“-I know.” You squeezed her hand, “I understand. It is my duty as your daughter to be wed to the Hightower’s to prevent bloodshed and war. To ensure your ascension to the throne. Let me perform my duty for you.”

“You know that we love you.” Rhaenyra squeezed your hand back, “Daemon has almost gone mad with rage. He does not wish to see you be wed to him. Luc feels that it is his fault.”

“I wouldn’t expect anything less from either of them.” You stood, still clutching her hand.

Her violet eyes roamed down your body.

The dress you wore was similar to the one she had worn for her wedding to Laenor, white with gold and licks of red in the lining. The dress sat below your collarbones and drooped against your shoulders, pearlescent beads sewn onto the short sleeves like dragon scales with a red silk peaking underneath.

“I wish this could be different for you.” She came to your side, placing a white cloak atop your shoulders, the Velaryon House sigil embroidered on the back, readying you to leave your chambers.

You looped your arm in hers, steeling a breath before you gave her a confident smile, “I don’t.”

Your heart rattled in your chest as you tried to stop the anxiety that churned nauseatingly in your stomach. Your hand was clenched tightly against Daemons arm, who slowly walked you down the many tables filled with people towards the man who would soon be your husband.

“Breathe.” Daemon cooed softly in your ear, his hand attempting to soothe you with soft brushes against yours.

Your eyes had not once left Aemond, who watched you with a dark glare.

The second son stood before the table, Viserys slumped behind him in his chair, the barest of smiles on his rotted face, half covered by a golden mask as you came towards them all. Your mother and Alicent sat on either sides of the King, followed by your brothers, your uncles, your cousins, and your aunt.

Aemond stood stiffly as he always did, the perfect posture with his shoulders back. He was higher on the stairs so that he looked down his nose at you, which wasn’t different to any other time he did. Each step towards him was nerve-wracking, the Lords and Ladies who had travelled far and wide watching you with keen eyes.

When finally you were standing before him, Daemon let go, coming to stand between you and Aemond momentarily, breaking your eye contact for the first time since you entered the room. Your uncle Daemon’s face was a kind one, and one you had grown to love as a step-father. He did not offer you a reassuring smile like your mother did, nor did he offer a consoling one. Instead, he leant forward to press a kiss to the side of your face before standing straight, towering over the both of you in both height and size before he moved back towards the table, sitting beside your mother.

And so the ceremony began.

In the light of the chambers Aemond looked sinister, shadows cast across his sharp face as he continued to look down his nose at you, chin still raised high. The Prince’s hair was styled in the way that it always was; straight and down his back, with two plain pieces pulled away from the sides of his face, tied neatly behind his head. He wore all black, the lining and undershirt the deepest of greens that was almost onyx. A symbol of his mother and her war that she had declared on a night such like this, many years ago.

The room felt hot, the back of your neck sweating as you stared at each other, all eyes pinned on you as the Septon’s voice boomed throughout the room.

“Father, Mother, Warrior,” The old mans voice was so loud in your ear that you winced, “Smith, Maiden, Crone, Stranger. Hear now their vows.”

You swallowed thickly, momentarily looking down at your hands before back into his sole lilac one, watching as his posture straightened further, surprised that he could even do so.

“I am yours, and you are mine.” Aemond’s voice dipped lower, “Whatever may come.”

Your throat felt dry, but your gut was filled with anticipation. You were frightened, but there was something else simmering beneath it all. A need for the danger he brought, a feeling of protection from him. Not from him and his anger, but from others.

A possessive desire.

The Septon looked at you impatiently to say your vows, and a small wave of quiet whispers spread across the room as you stood silently. The Prince shifted on his feet, muscles in his jaw clenching.

“I am yours,” You breathed softly, hands gripping each other tightly in front of your dress, “And you’re mine. Whatever may come.”

The purple of Aemond’s eye was half hidden by his lid, his gaze having softened at your short vow. You watched as the corner of his sharp lips twitched upwards lightly into a small smirk.

The Septon continued, “Here in the presence of Gods and Men, I proclaim Aemond of House Targaryen and Y/n of House Velaryon to be man and wife. One flesh, one heart, one soul, now and forever.”

Man and Wife.

Wed to Aemond Targaryen.

Your husband.

Now and forever.

An eruption of congratulatory joy spread throughout the room, the noise almost deafening as everyone celebrated what could be your demise. And though the noise around you was distracting, you could not look away from him, even as he shifted closer.

Aemond’s hand lifted and you flinched, the only people having noticed was your family seated behind you. His hand continued despite your shock to cup the side of your face and jaw, and as quickly as it happened, it ended. Aemond’s face grew closer as his eye slid shut, pressing his lips tenderly to yours in a brief moment before he pulled away, hand dropping back down to his side. The hand that had cupped your face grasped your hand for all to see, before he led you around to your seat at the table.

The night of celebrations became a blur, too in shock to really enjoy yourself, but wine still flowing heavily. Most of your evening you spent ignoring your new husband, opting to speak mostly to your mother and brothers, as well as Daemon and his daughters, who threw you pitying smiles, yet words of encouragement.

Aemond sat by your side, though he made no effort to join your conversations or create ones of his own. He had always been the quiet of his siblings, always sticking to the shadows and tomes of the library, never quite fitting in.

Helaena leant forward towards you, Otto eyeing her warily whilst Alicent looked as though she was about to chastise her daughter. In your aunts hand was a beetle, all black, though when the light of the candles shone on his shell, it seemed to glow. Greens and blues, and purples and pinks, danced across the beetles wings as it crawled atop her hand.

Your aunt had always loved insects, and had always been a sweet and kind person. You loved Helaena, and if there was anything that could help you endure living in the Red Keep alone without your family, it would be her.

“He appears dark,” She breathed watching as it crawled through a gap in her fingers and back towards her palm, “But if you look closely, you’ll find that he’s not.”

You shuffled in your seat, your shoulder pressed to hers as you ducked your head to look closer at the beetle, “He’s quite beautiful.”

Healaena lifted her face towards you, as she smiled at you dreamily, “He is, if you let him.”

Frowning, you looked back to the beetle, “How do I let a beetle be a beetle?”

Helaena did not answer you, instead continuing to twist and turn her hand as the bug crawled around on it.

Aegon watched from above the rim of his cup, drunk with red rimmed eyes. His hair was oily and wavy, unbrushed atop his round face. You could not help but feel a shiver crawl over you as he smiled.

“Our sweet niece and brother are finally married.” Aegon purred, Helaena barely giving him a second glance as though over the years she had attuned herself into pretending that he did not exist.

“A joyous occasion, uncle.” You smiled falsely back, picking up your own goblet of wine, ready to go back to talking with Helaena. Or the beetle.

Anything to escape Aegon.

“Do you know what happens tonight? After the celebrations of course.” Your uncles voice creeped along the surface of the table like a snake, so that only you and his siblings could hear.

You swallowed thickly.

Of course you did.

You had done it last night.

Bar a bed. Or walls.

In fact, it wasn’t even in the Keep, and instead in a dirty alley in Flea Bottom, hidden amongst the shadows.

“I’m aware.” Your voice was clipped, which seemed to goad Aegon.

“And how does our sweet little niece know of such things?”

You swallowed thickly, head turning to look at Aemond, whose eye was trained on his brother.

“My Septa.” You tuned back to face him, “And your whoring.”

Aegon chuckled, filling up his goblet with wine once more, “I suppose then you know what to expect.”

“Yes.”

“Should you ever be in want of a demonstration-"

“-Leave her be.” Came Aemond’s voice, almost a growl. His hand was clutched tightly around his own goblet as he challenged his older brother to say something more.

Aegon laughed loudly, eyes on his brothers clenched hand before looking up to watch him, “I only jest, brother! It is a night of celebrations!” He thrust his goblet towards the One-Eyed Prince, “It’s not everyday that my little brother is married off to such a beautiful princess. The daughter of the Realm’s Delight, no less. Do you think-“

Helaena shifted, turning her body towards you, “It isn’t so bad.” She spoke emotionlessly into your ear to distract you from Aegon, “It only hurts the first few times.” Your aunt paused in thought, lavender eyes still on the beetle as it moved, before looking at you, “Or when he’s angry. Or drunk.” She added as an afterthought, “But mostly when he’s drunk.”

Sorrow coursed through you for your aunt, your gaze immediately staring into Aegon’s angrily. How could he do this to her? How could he treat her like one of his whores? If not because she is his wife, but because she is his sister. Aegon seemed to sink into his chair after Helaena’s comment, soft anger simmering off of him in small waves.

But Aegon has never truly known when to stop.

“I am sure my brother here will barely draw blood.”

“I am sure your interest in your brothers cock speaks loudly.”

Elbows sloppily placed on the table he leant towards you, “I tried to take him once you know, to a whorehouse.” His voice became more hushed, “He hated it. Made me think that maybe our dear Aemond was perhaps like your father, Laenor.”

Blinding rage shot through you, “Don’t speak about my father.” You hissed, “He was more man than you shall ever be.”

A cruel smirk pulled at Aegon’s lips, “I am sure he has had more men than I ever shall.”

Your hand shot forward to grasp your goblet, ready to hurl it across the table at him, peace be damned, but Aemond was quicker and snatched your wrist before the tips of your fingers could even reach the cup.

A quiet fell over your table as all watched the interaction, your wrist in Aemond’s hand, Aegon smirking cruelly at you, and your face hot with anger.

“I pity you.” You quietly seethed, “Always so desperate to get a reaction out of the people around you, because if you didn’t you would simply cease to exist. Though you are the first son of Viserys, a peasant bastard from Flea Bottom would garner more respect.”

Aegon’s gassed darkened, his mouth readying to fire back at you.

“Aemond.” Alicent called to her son, a questioning and yet chastising tone in her voice.

Aemond looked at his mother, and then back to you, checking to see if you were going to continue on with your thought. But you had grown tired of the grip he had on you, his large hand squeezing your bones painfully as they shifted beneath the skin.

“Don’t touch me.” You sneered at him, snatching your hand away as you stood, chair scraping loudly against the flagstones.

The throne room quietened, all stilling to watch as you stood at the table, seething down at your husband. The rest of your family all watched warily, except for the Rogue Prince who smirked broadly at you. Your chest heaved with anger as you looked down at Aemond, who stared up at you with similar rage.

King Viserys sensing the tension smiled, though it looked more like a grimace, “Our young lovers wish to dance!” A distraction on his end, and a clever one at that.

The room erupted into cheers and clapping, and the musicians in the corner began playing music loudly for all. Lords and Ladies stood from their seats and moved into the centre of the room to dance together.

Glaring down at your husband, your hands clenched into fists, waiting for him. Aemond slowly stood, towering over you, a large hand stretched out towards you, palm up.

“Wife.”

“Husband.” You growled, taking his hand roughly, digging your nails into his skin as you led him down the stairs towards the people.

The court parted to the sides like a wave, creating a path for you straight to the centre as you lead Aemond down to it, almost like a dog. Each man and woman watched with excitement, either for the celebrations or the rising tension between the two of you. You’d be a fool to think that the court wouldn’t love a quarrel to arise so that they may whisper about it in corridors later to come.

It could be a way to press the wound so to speak with Aemond later.

You stopped in the centre, finally letting go of your husband as you spun to face him.

He stood as he always did, stiff, emotionless with a hint of arrogance, watching you with a cool glare. The court waited for you to begin, as the music continued to play, but even then you couldn’t push yourself to touch him. To feel his hands on you once more, alighting a fire within you that you did not know was possible, the embers still burning from the night before.

Would they be able to tell?

That he had already deflowered you in Flea Bottom?

In a dirty alley like one of Aegon’s whores?

In a way, you hoped they would. Let it bring him dishonour. Let it bring him humiliation from the court that his wife would take him in such a filthy, commoner way. You wished for his disdain, you wished for his anger, anything but the clear desire which seemed to move through him as he watched you from down his nose.

“Well?” You snipped, waiting for him to make the first move.

Aemond came forward swiftly, much like he had in the alley, and you had to bite your cheeks to stop the gasp that would have escaped your mouth.

It came to him so naturally to touch you, to hold you. One large hand immediately grasping yours by your side pulling it up, the other skating up your hip, over your collar bone, slowly down your shoulder, and down, down, down your arm.

Goosebumps rose on your skin, a shiver running down your back as his other hand connected with yours, and slowly but surely, the dance began. Even with the noise of the room, the music playing, the talking, and laughter, and joy from the guests, you could still hear the small little gasps and breaths you let free as you danced with Aemond.

It was likely one of the only times you hadn’t bickered after so long in his presence, let alone whilst touching him. The two of you stayed silent, moving this way and that, your gaze occasionally flitting to the table to your mother and Daemon, who watched with kind eyes.

“Don’t let Aegon goad you.” Aemond finally spoke.

His hand brushed against your shoulders, and round the back of your neck, a heat beginning to simmer in your gut from his touch. You turned to face him, watching as he observed you closely.

“He won’t stop if you show it bothers you.”

“He always bothers me.” You snipped, but this time with much less anger, “He is like a fly you wish to swat but can never reach."

Aemond’s lip twitched as he looked at you, turning around you slowly, “Mm.”

“Mm.” You mimicked, turning away from him.

“Behave yourself, wife.” Aemond purred, irritation flitting through you momentarily.

“What? Like how behaved yourself last night?”

“I could say much the same to you.”

“A shame then.” You sighed, moving to come chest to chest with him, your breath stilling in your lungs as you looked up at him. You would never get used to how tall he had grown over the years, “You bring much dishonour to your mother.”

“As do you. Whoring yourself to a Lord of the North-“

“-King of the North-“

“-In a dirty, whore riddled tavern.”

“A dirty, whore riddled tavern that you knew about.”

Aemond stilled, his head dipping towards you, “Did you think that I wouldn’t know of your movements in Kings Landing? Did you truly believe that I would be so foolish as to think that you would come to me willingly?”

You swallowed thickly.

“No.” He continued, sucking on his teeth, “You forget that I know you. You are much like your brothers. Getting into places where you don’t belong.”

“And what of yours?” You became defensive at the mention of your brothers, remembering how he and his would call you all bastards, “Loudly and brazenly whoring himself to any and all who would dare risk fucking him.”

“My brothers whoring does not concern me.”

“Then I suppose I am not a concern either.” You sniffed, “You needn’t worry, I am sure that he should find his way into our chambers one way or another.”

The hand on your arm tightened to the point of pain, your cheek twitching as you tried to hold in a wince, “I told you, he is not of concern.”

“I know Aegon. I have heard of what he does-“

“-And you know me. Know that he will not-“

“-He will not, what? Sully me? Taint our marital bed? It is already tainted. You made sure of that last night.” You stood closer to him, still as the others danced around you, your gaze peering up into his as your chest heaved, “But what if I want him to? What if I willingly invite him to take me? I’m sure you do not mind sharing after all, he is your brother.”

Aemond’s eye flashed with anger, before his head slowly ducked beside your ear, “If you think I am fool enough to stoop to your provocations then you must forget that we grew up together, side by side. I know your tricks.” The hand on your arm released its strong grip, coming to brush against the back of your neck, “I know that you despise him just as much as I. I know that you used to cry at the Godswood when he called you bastard.”

You bristled, purposely stepping back as you stared at him angrily. You hated that word. You hated what it meant for you and your siblings. You hated that he and his brother and his mother and the court whispered about all of your parentage. You hated that once, when you had been young, despite all of this, you had been friends.

Rage bubbled up inside of you, and before you could stop yourself you leant forward, hand coming to touch the side of Aemond’s face with his one seeing eye, the other covered by his leather patch.

You rubbed your thumb atop his cheek, “Imply that I am bastard once more, and I shall blind you with the purpose that Lucerys lacked.”

Aemond’s chest rose and fell jaggedly, inhaling breaths faster than yours, anger coursing through his veins. His sharp lips twitched as he watched you, “I wouldn’t dare. I know just how Strong you are, Princess.”

Your thumb moved fast, but Aemond was faster, anticipating your movements. His hand caught yours against his cheek, trapping your fingers between his hand so that they may not move further to pluck his remaining eye from its socket like intended.

“People are watching, ābrazȳrys.” Wife, He purred, though there was a lick of danger behind it.

A warning.

“Ivestragī zirȳ urnēbagon.” Let them watch, You sneered, “Nyke kessa laesdaor ao hae iā dīnilūks irudy.” I shall blind you as a wedding gift.

Aemond’s silver brow lifted, “Skoros iā sȳz irudy.” What a good gift, His eye turned dangerous, “Eman iā irudy syt ao, mēre nyke gōntan daor jaelagon naejot tepagon.” I have a gift for you, one I did not wish to give.

“Is it your death?” You countered cheerily, not wanting to show him that the way he spoke to you set your hair on end.

“No. I think it will be much better than that. We will both come to enjoy it.” The danger in his eye still flickered like a flame, “I was considering not giving it to you, but since you are behaving so wonderfully, I simply must insist.”

You turned away from him, moving to go back to your seat, “I want nothing from you.”

“And yet, you'll have everything.”

As the night grew long, your fears grew larger. And though he had taken you the night before in an alley, his subtle threat of what may come tonight lingered in the back of your mind. Each cup of wine was drained eagerly by your lips, hoping and wishing that you could somehow make yourself sick enough to not have the bedding ceremony.

But it came all the same, just as the wedding had.

Aegon was the one who initiated the beginning of the end.

A large clap came from in front of you, the short haired Prince leaning towards you on the tables with his hands clasped together, silver and gold rings adorning them. A sinister smile pulled at his lips as he beamed at you and his brother.

“The night is late!” He proclaimed loudly to the chambers, many Lords and Ladies turning their heads to watch, “I think we have held these two young lovers hostage for far too long!” Aegon smiled out to the room and then stood, lifting his goblet.

His shirt was untucked, his gait unsteady and he swayed on his feet as he continued, “My brother is too polite to remove himself from festivities such as these! But brother,” He thrusted his cup towards you, “I can see that you wish to take your new wife to bed! The love these two share is a tale for story books, though they are too polite to say a thing.” He chuckled, and laughter followed from the Lords behind you, “Worry not! We will continue the festivities without you!”

Cheers were heard from about the room, though none came from your own table. Aegon sipped his wine greedily, eyes watching you from above the rim of his cup. The Prince took the goblet from his lips and clicked his fingers impatiently beside him, pointing at an uncomfortable Criston Cole who came to his side like a well trained mutt.

“Ser Criston, take these newly weds to my brothers chambers. It seems it is time for the bedding ceremony.”

Ceremony.

Your blood ran cold.

Aemond stood abruptly beside you, head on with his brother.

“No need, Ser Cole.” His smooth voice icy, “I shall escort the Princess there myself.”

Aemond pushed his chair backwards as you continued to stare at Aegon, not quite ready to be alone with the Prince.

Your husband.

You blinked, turning your head towards your family, who all gave you pained smiles. But it was your duty. And you had given your mother your word. Slowly you stood, letting your eyes scan the table, softly landing on your grandsire before meeting with a pair of large brown eyes. Alicent Hightower watched on with a nervous energy, her hands shifting on her lap as you assumed she picked at the skin around her fingers. The look in her eyes almost held empathy.

Almost.

You bowed your head to the King and Queen, ignoring Aegon’s shit eating grin.

“Your Grace.”

Pushing your chair back you ignored the outstretched arm of Aemond and made your way down the stairs, Lords and Ladies watching as you made your slow exit from the room, taking false prideful steps through the court to delay the inevitable, giving all who watched smiles and nods of your head.

The shifting of armour moved loudly behind you, before soon enough, Ser Criston Cole was overtaking your step to lead you out of the chambers and soon to Aemond’s. The white cape attached to his shoulders billowed behind him as he speedily kept on.

The skin on your elbow burned, a hand gripping it tightly as you were momentarily slowed as Aemond came to your side. You refused to meet his eye, feeling his gaze upon the side of your face as you exited the chambers, the sounds of cheering and laughter loud behind you. The chamber doors shut with a thump, the sound dampened and muffled, footsteps echoing down the darkened corridors of the Red Keep.

“Does Ser Criston not wish to watch you bed me?” You sneered, eyes flickering to the lit lamps on the walls as Aemond led you down a wing of the Keep you had scarcely been down.

“I have instructed him to prepare my chambers for your arrival.” Aemond replied, his strides long and rigid as he almost hauled you with him.

“Do not pull me.” You yanked your arm back, halting your steps, “I am not your dog.”

Aemond stilled, looking down his nose at you as he towered above, “Dogs are better behaved.”

The Prince’s head snapped to the side, pain spreading through your palm as you sneered at him. The side of his cheek bloomed an angry red, yet Aemond did not react to your slap, nor did he hit you back, instead, a slow smirk pulled at his lips.

“I shall allow that, but only because I know you will regret it.”

Rising to your tiptoes you tried to make yourself come to eye level, “I regret nothing.”

“Mm.” He looked at you blankly, “I shall give you a choice.” Anger rose within your chest, heat creeping up your neck and into your cheeks, “Come with me to the Godswood.” Your brows furrowed, “Pray to the Gods for forgivingness for striking your husband, kneel and apologise. Swear obeisance to me-”

“-If you think-“

“-And I shall let you go to your own chambers alone. No need for a bedding ceremony after last night.”

You flushed, swallowing thickly, “I would never lower myself to apologising to a second son. And especially not to a Prince who is owed no inkling of respect.”

Aemond watched you for a beat, eye scanning your face as his held flat, “Then we continue to my chambers.” The hand that pulled you began again, and your feet struggled to keep up with his, bruises no doubt to be on the tender flesh of your arm in the morning.

Your heart raced in your chest as you felt yourself get closer to his chambers, his strides not once slowing down, though you tried to dig your heels into the flagstones to slow him.

“You care not to have a woman enthusiastic in your bed?” You tugged fruitlessly at your arm, “You wish to drag me to a night of suffering, like a savage. Like your brother, Aegon.” You sneered, fruitlessly tugging your arm to escape his grip.

“A savage would have had you atop the table before all to see when you first defied me. I gave you a chance to apologise, remember that you scorned it.”

“A chance? What chance was I given? A loveless marriage with a man who is not my equal? A burden I am forced to bear as I am forced to lay beneath him!”

Aemond’s steps halted once more, almost causing you to crash into him, his fingers tightening against your arm as he yanked you against his chest angrily, “You needlessly make this more difficult. I extended an offering to you of peace, and you burnt it.”

“Peace?” You screeched incredulously, “You have done naught but provoke me! Naught but push and prod and goad me into reaction so that you may justify your sick desires.”

“Provoke you? I seem to recall you sneaking into Flea Bottom to try and lay with a Lord to spite me.”

“I was trying to save us from a loveless and cruel union.”

“Us? Or yourself?”

You paused, mouth feeling dry. Anger and fear swirled within your gut viscously as you stared at him. The both of you panting heavily at one another. Aemond shifted, moving away from the wall beside you, revealing two large wooden doors.

You were there.

And you had not even realised.

“Wife.” Aemond purred sarcastically before pushing open the door, the smell of his room engulfing you.

It smelt of him, but far more intensely. Of leather and smoke, and spices which he dabbed his skin with, and still, behind all of this, the natural scent of him. The smell that was only his and his alone. A scent that had wrapped around you in that alleyway the night before.

The fireplace raged wildly, the room filled with dark mahogany furniture. There was a chaise, arm chairs, a table seated for six, a large bed on the other end, a reading desk with piles of books and scrolls, and candles sitting on every surface, lighting the room.

The second thing you observed as your eyes roamed the space was that you were not alone.

Your heart skipped in your chest.

There by the bed, was a man sat in a chair. Arms tied down to it as his feet were tightly bound to the legs. His long dark hair was knotted atop his head as he stared at you in shock, and beside him, Ser Criston Cole.

“Cregan?” You breathed in shock, running towards the Northerner as you dropped to your knees, hand reaching out to cup his face as he only looked at you with sorrow, “Are you hurt?”

“I did warn you,” Aemond growled from behind, “That you would regret it. I had a plan, you see. A moment of mercy to let you apologise at the Godswood, for you to go-“

“-Let him go!”

“-To your chambers untouched and unscathed. I had given you a choice, and this is the one you have chosen.”

You turned your head sharply to face Aemond, “What have you done?”

“This man was caught conspiring against the crown. He planned to take the Princess’ honour and humiliate her betrothed. A Prince.” His lilac eye held Cregan’s icy blue ones, “I have done my duty by capturing this traitor to the realm.”

Fear began to bubble inside of you, eyes looking back to Cregan. The left side of his face was bruised, small cuts littered across his cheek and brow. His soft lips were swollen and split, and dried blood had gathered in one corner.

“He is innocent.” Your knees ached as they dug into the stones below, your upper body turning to face Aemond again, “He knew naught of what I was doing. Punish me. Let him go.”

Aemond hummed and walked towards you, “Brave. Admirable if it wasn’t for nothing. No. I gave you a choice before, and you have made your choice. I gave you the option to apologise, to bend to me as your husband, to go to your chambers alone, but this is what you have chosen. This was your choice.”

“You gave me no choice!” You sneered, moving to stand, shielding Cregan’s body with your own, “All this talk of choices when all you have gave was an unknown ultimatum.”

“A choice nonetheless. Godswood or chambers. And so here we are. The consequences of your actions.” The Prince came closer, shadows cast across his face, “I told you that you would regret it.”

“You’re a savage! A foul beast.”

A smile pulled at Aemond’s lips, “Choose your words carefully, wife. I have no qualm with slitting his throat where he sits should you continue to defy me.”

Cregan pulled against his restraints, angrily sneering at Aemond, who simply hummed once more as he came to stand before you, looking down at you with false pity, “But, it is the night of our union, and the betrayal is still fresh and something I am willing to move past. I shall give you another choice. One that I feel may be far too lenient.”

Tears began to well in your eyes.

This was all your fault.

“The Lord of Winterfell shall sit where he is, and watch as I fuck you in ways that he never shall-“

“-You disgust me!”

“-Or he shall be tried and hung for treason.” Aemond came closer, his chest almost brushing against yours as he stared at you, “The choice is yours.”

You sneered upwards at your uncle, tears gathering in your eyes, “I would rather die than let you touch me again.”

“I recall you seeming to enjoy it, wetting my cock in that filthy alley as you begged for it.” He purred, hand lifting to brush hair from your face as he sighed, “I don’t mind what you choose, I could simply slit his throat myself right now? If you'd prefer it?”

A lone tear fell down your cheek as you turned and held Cregan’s gaze, his brows furrowing as he saw you come to your decision.

“Y/n, don’t-“ Cregan’s head was jerked back roughly, Ser Coles hand in his hair as he stuck a blade beneath his chin. The edge of the blade nicked the skin lightly, a small bead of blood travelling down his neck.

He would die.

He would die and it would be all your fault.

“Please, Aemond.” You begged, “Please do not do this. Let him go. Let him go and I swear to you I will obey your commands. Let him free and I am yours.”

The silver haired mans head tilted as he cooed you, “I am sorry, my love. But it is too late to beg for my mercy as I offered it to you before. What kind of man would I be if I excused such treason?”

You stepped forward swiftly, “A strong one. A merciful one. A man who can see the error of my way. That I am repentant.” You tried to cajole him, “I promise you I will be good. I will perform my duty and do what is expected of me.”

“You are sweet when you beg, but it is too late.”

“Uncle, please! I will do anything! Anything you ask of me. I swear to the Seven.”

Aemond smiled at you, “I know you will. And that is why you will do this.” Aemond swallowed, eye roaming down your wedding gown hungrily, defiantly.

Angrily.

“Strip.”

“Aemond-“

“-Strip, or he dies.”

Tears rolled down your cheek, your stomach rolling in disgust and fear.

“Please do not make me do this.” You sobbed, arms limp by your side as you looked down at the flagstones, feeling defeated.

Your husband tutted you, long slender finger brushing the tears that fell from your eyes away, “Do not waste your tears on him, my love. I can be gentle, and soon you will come to love my touch. This, I promise you.”

Pain bloomed in your jaw as you ground your teeth together, wary to not trigger Criston’s excitable hand. Short breaths puffed from your nose as fury and sorrow rose within you like a tide, little by little building in a wave. In your periphery, Aemond stepped back, a pale hand presented in front of you, palm outstretched for you to take.

Slowly, you let your gaze meet his, heated glare ignoring his offering as you refused to move. One last act of defiance. And one Aemond did not take lightly. Pain bloomed in your shoulder as you were roughly yanked forwards, and thrown backwards against the bed. Cregan shouted from behind you, the chair creaking beneath him.

“I said, strip.” Aemond growled.

Your eyes flicked to Cregan, and then up towards Ser Cole who watched with conflicted eyes.

“Please,” You begged softly again, keeping your eyes on Ser Criston, “Not him too. Not Ser Cole.”

A shifting of armour moved from behind Aemond, and a small ‘Your Grace’ fell from the knights lips.

Aemond spun, momentarily ignoring you as he turned to the knight standing awkwardly beside Cregan Stark, “You may leave, Ser Cole.” Aemond sniffed, “I am certain our guest will behave accordingly.”

Ser Criston’s eyes flickered to yours and then to the Prince as you tried to plead to him with yours for help.

To help the daughter of the woman he was once sworn to.

But no help came.

The Dornish knight bowed his head and left without another word.

“Let her go-“

“-Ah.” Aemond turned slowly towards Cregan, slow steps coming forward until he stood towering over the northerner, “Speak again and I’ll cut out your tongue.”

“Kepus,” You stood from the bed, grasping Aemond’s elbow tightly, hoping, praying that if you asked once more that he could see reason, “Please, let him go. I am yours. I will always be yours.”

Aemond stared at you, his pupil dilated as he stared at you intently.

“Strip.”

You fought the sob that threaten to rise up your throat and slowly lifted your chin.

You would not show weakness.

You would be strong.

With shaking hands, you let your fingers find the strings at the back of your dress, and slowly but surely you pulled the laces, keeping your eyes on your husband who watched with intent.

The gown sagged against your frame, the soft material falling down your chest slowly as you held it for one last moment, hoping that it was all a test, that he would change his mind and stop this madness.

But he didn’t.

Breath held in your chest, you let the gown fall to the floor below you, leaving you in your thin shift before the two men. Cregan looked away, his eyes focusing on the stones of the wall in shame, his hands tucked into tight fists against the arm of the arm of the chair, knuckles turning white.

A shiver ran down your back as the cool of the chambers stiffened your nipples into peaks, brushing against the white of your chemise. Aemond took a slow step towards you and then another, hand lifting to brush under your chin, an attempt to direct your gaze to him. You turned your head defiantly; looking to the wall where Cregan’s gaze laid.

“Y/n.” Aemond warned softly, thumb and forefinger pinching your chin as he turned your face towards him, “Look at me.”

Reluctantly you let yourself, and all you saw was the black of his pupil as he devoured you with his darkened gaze, “You’re so beautiful.” He cooed, “My wife.”

You swallowed thickly, his hand slowly skimming down your neck raising goosebumps along your skin as his fingers came to rest against the edge of your chemise. The tips of his nails scraped softly against your skin as it slipped beneath, and with an even slower movement, he tugged the chemise down off of your shoulders, the thin material floating down to the floor below leaving you completely exposed to the two men in his chambers.

“I will not harm you, though you would deserve it.” Aemond purred, his eye roaming your exposed body, your stomach and core clenching in anticipation, “I plan to make you beg for it.”

You opened your mouth to snap at him, but in the moment his long fingers came to brush under your breast, fingers teasing your nipple softly, your mouth clamped shut. You shyly glanced at Cregan, who’s eyes were scrunched tight. Aemond followed your line of sight, sighing.

“If you do not watch,” Aemond fully turned to Cregan, “I will take out your eyes.”

Even at the One-Eyed Princes threat, Cregan did not lift his gaze from the wall. The Lord of Winterfell willing to risk his sight so that you may keep your dignity.

“Fine.” Aemond grunted, pulling the blade from his belt, “Then I shall take hers.”

Fear shot through you as you stared at Aemond tearfully, watching in your periphery as Cregan’s head turned towards you and yelled.

“No!”

“Then,” Aemond sneered, “Watch.”

With eyes filled with shame, Cregan looked up at you. You didn’t know what to do, what could make it better. What could make any of this not what it was, and so you tried to offer him a reassuring nod. A small promise that it was okay to look when all you knew was how very much it wasn’t.

“Good.” The Prince hummed.

Aemond resumed his touch against you, hand coming to cup your breast fully as he rolled your nipple between his fingers. His touch sent sparks across your chest, shame washing over you in a wave.

Aemond ducked his head towards your face, beckoning you to kiss him. Would he be gentle as he was when you were married? Would it soften his actions? Or would it only make him worse?

Deciding that you didn’t want to push what little patience he had, your eyes slid shut, breath stuck deep in your chest as you felt the heat of his body come closer, the hand on your breast skating around your ribs to pull you closer to him.

When his lips pressed against yours it was light, gentle, almost cautious, your hands staying stiff by your sides. But that softness was short lived, and soon Aemond deepened the kiss, his teeth clashing against yours roughly.

You gasped softly as his other hand wound into your hair, tugging you closer as he nipped your bottom lip roughly. Your hands instinctually came up to his chest, gripping onto his jacket tightly to steady yourself. Anger poured into the kiss, and from behind you could feel the reluctant glare of Cregan.

Aemond pulled away, your eyes fluttering open to look at him. His lips were swollen, having turned a rosy pink as a blush settled across his cheeks. His chest heaved against yours, the stitching on his coat brushing roughly against your stiffened peaks.

“Have you ever bed a woman, Stark?” Aemond asked smugly, brushing the back of your neck as you turned you to face the Northerner again, your back to Aemond’s chest.

Even as exposed as you were, Cregan’s eyes did not shift to look at your body, keeping his simmering glare on Aemond.

Clicking his tongue, Aemond continued, “I’m sure you’ve fucked wildlings and mudmen alike, being a man of the North.” An arm wrapped around the front of your chest, breasts squeezed beneath the toned arm of your uncle behind you, “Tell me, are Winterfells brothels full of sheep like the Vale? Or maybe they’re full of pigs since you’re both fond of the mud.”

The chair beneath Cregan creaked, his jaw tensing in anger as Aemond taunted him. His pale eyes narrowed, lips tensed together in a sneer as his nostrils flared, breathing heavily whilst his hands gripped the arms of the chair tightly.

“No? Hm.” Aemond’s other hand slid across the skin of your back, travelling around to the front of your stomach slowly, brushing his fingertips along your hip bone as he continued, “You see, Stark, mudmen of the North have no place with the blood of Valyria. The Blood of the Dragon would never sully itself by laying with a Northerner. Nor would a Princess.” His hand continued to dip down, fingers brushing into the hair atop your mound.

Your back arched in instinct, trying to escape his hand, but it only pushed your backside into his clearly hardened member, “Targaryens don’t fuck like animals,” His voice dipped lower, “We bring pleasure to our lovers.”

Aemond’s hand continued down, parting your folds with a finger, seeking out the heat and slick that had gathered at your entrance. Once found, Aemond’s chest vibrated from behind with an appreciative hum, dragging a long slender finger from your entrance, back up to your pearl. You jerked in his hold as he pushed lightly against it, slowly and torturously swirling the digit against your bud, your arousal aiding his movements.

You watched Cregan curiously, the urge to hide yourself strong. His eyes never once left Aemond as he continued to bring you soft pleasure. The Stark’s chest rose and fell shallowly as he glared at the man behind you, who watched back with impatience.

“I won’t tell you again.” Aemond purred, fingers dipping down to your entrance as he suddenly shoved one long finger inside of you, causing you to gasp at the small sting, “Watch her, or I blind her.”

Cregan’s eyes shut as he took a shaky breath, Aemond’s finger crooking inside of you, pressing against your front wall roughly. A whine fell from your lips causing the icy blue eyes to catch yours finally. Cregan swallowed thickly as you stared at one another, your hands gripping the sleeve of Aemond’s arm across your chest, twisting the material between your fingers as you shifted your hips back, pressing against him as he sped up his fingers movement.

Cregan’s stare was hard, his eyes apologetic, watching you shift against your husband behind you as he began to fuck his finger inside of you, the sound of your slick filling the room. Your face flushed with embarrassment.

“She’s quite reactive,” Aemond purred, slipping his finger from within you to rub at your bud again, causing you to jerk in his hold, his arm tightening further around your chest, “Her body knows what it wants, even when she tries to fight it. Do you hear how she needs me?”

Aemond’s finger moved back to your entrance, but instead of one, he forced in a second, the ache from the night before settling within you again.

“Gods.” You whispered softly, pain and pleasure mixing into a confusing blend. Your head fell back against Aemond’s shoulder as he sped up his hand, fucking his fingers inside of you roughly. All you could do was lean your weight back against him, his arm the only thing that held you upright as his arousal pressed into the small of your back.

A familiar warmth began to build within you quickly, a coil rapidly tightening within your gut as Aemond switched from fucking you with his hand, to rubbing slick circles against your pearl. You scrunched your eyes shut, mouth going slack as your breath hitched. You were so close, so close, to reaching your peak, but each time you would almost get there, Aemond would slow his hand down.

You whined in his arms, shifting as you just wished it would end, wishing he would let you peak. It was torture. And with each time he did it, the frustration and desperation built, a light sheen of sweat covering your skin.

“What is the matter?” Aemond cooed into your ear, his fingers slowing to almost a halt, “Did you need something?”

You huffed a breath through your nose, eyes scrunching shut as you tried to thrust your hips into his hand, anything to alleviate the pressure that was strung to snap at any moment. You didn’t care anymore, you just needed it to end. Aemond’s fingers stopped, hovering over your pearl.

You didn’t even want to think of what you must have looked like, bare, hair likely a mess, and body aching for release.

All while Cregan Stark watched.

“If you want something,” Aemond’s lips came to the side of your ear, pressing a ghostly kiss to them, “You need only ask.”

You bit on your bottom lip, willing yourself to not give in, to not give him what he wanted, but all you could think about was reaching your peak. Logically, you told yourself it was for Cregan’s sake so that it could all end quickly, but in reality, it was so that the throbbing in your core would cease, and the sweet feeling of relief could wash over you like it had the night before.

“Come now, you’re not one to hold your tongue. Ask.”

You wet your lips timidly, keeping your eyes shut in shame, not wanting to see Cregan’s face as you begged for the man behind you to touch you again as he watched.

A sharp sting shot through your centre, your eyes springing open as you gasped, you gaze immediately meeting the cold icy glare of Cregan, who’s fists tightened around the arms of the chair.

“Speak.” Aemond commanded, voice sharper in your ear as he watched Cregan tensing to the chair he was tied to.

Your mouth felt dry, and you licked at your lips once more before you softly whispered, “Please.”

“Please what?”

Cregan’s gaze looked back to yours, his eyes softened.

“Please,” You begged softly, “Touch me.”

You heard Aemond hummed from behind you, his finger slowly pressing into your cunt as he gathered slick from your entrance to drag back up to your bud.

“Like this?” He purred, slowly making circles against you, the coil within tightening again.

All you could do was nod, but that was not the answer that Aemond demanded. His fingers left your pearl as he waited, and you huffed in frustration.

“Touch me. Please, Aemond.” You weakly begged, eyes darting to the floor in embarrassment, not wanting to see Cregan’s face.

His touched resumed once more, but the arm wrapped around your chest shifted, his hand coming to grasp your chin as he lifted your head to look squarely at Cregan, a soft blush spreading across his cheeks.

“All you needed to do was ask, sweet wife.” Aemond purred, the movement speeding up, bringing you closer and closer to your peak, “I want you to wet my hand, and watch him whilst you do it. If you do not,” His voice dipped low, fingers pressing almost painfully against you, “I will know.”

You swallowed dryly and nodded your head in his grasp, feeling your peak begin to barrel towards you. Cregan watched your face, his own a soft pink and ice blue eyes half lidded.

“Does this feel good? Am I making you nice and wet?” Aemond cooed, hand plucking pleasure from you in ways you didn’t know was possible.

You nodded weakly, “Yes.”

“You can do better than that. Tell him what it feels like.”

Your eyes widened, embarrassment flaring inside of you.

“Tell him or I’ll stop.”

“It-“ You paused, swallowing the last of your pride, “It feels good.”

“What feels good?”

“When you touch me.”

“How so?”

You exhaled shakily, shifting in his arm as his fingers softened their movements, “It feels good when you touch my cunt.”

“Sȳz riña.” Good girl, Aemond praised you, causing arousal to spark inside, “That wasn’t so hard, now was it? Does it feel good when I fuck you with my hand?”

“Yes, uncle.” You whined weakly.

“Tell Cregan that it feels good when I fuck you with my hand.”

Blinking at the man tied in the chair, you grit your teeth, “It feels good when he fucks me with his hand.”

Cregans nostrils flared as he shifted in his seat, and your head fell back against Aemond once more, “I’m close.” You panted.

You were so close, so, so close to just tipping over the edge, the smell of Aemond behind you suffocating you as heat began to rise through your body. The gaze of the man before you wavered, his eyes momentarily dipping to where Aemond’s hand was rubbing swift and slick circles. That was all it took for you to feel yourself fall undone.

You writhed against Aemond as your peak washed over you, the Northerner watching on as Aemond’s fingers became wet with your release, his gaze darting up to watch your face, jaw slack as he breathed shallowly.

“Shh, shh, shh. Good girl.” Aemond praised you, his hand finally stopping as he smoothed up and down your sides.

A warm glow settled over your body and your eyes slid shut, head lolling to Aemond’s chest behind you as you breathed deeply, the pulsing of your cunt halting any and all thoughts that you had.

But as quick as the calm had come, the quicker it left, your world tilting as you were spun and pushed back onto the bed. Your eyes shot open as you watched Aemond step towards you, Cregan observing with slight concern before you were yanked back down the bed towards the Prince by your ankles, legs splayed open.

On instinct they tried to close, too exposed to the room, but your husband wouldn’t allow it, standing between them as he held them open with his hand, his lone eye commanding you to stay still from above.

Would it be painful like the night before? Would he bring you pleasure as well? Or would it be something entirely different now that you lay down on a bed, the way that your Septa’s had told you it would happen, and certainly not inside a dirty alley in Flea Bottom?

But what your Septa’s had not informed you of was that your husband, who seemed to be more concerned with punishing you than bringing you any reward, began to kneel before the bed, his back to his prisoner.

“I need to taste how sweet you are, and then I shall fuck you.”

With a broad swipe of his tongue, Aemond parted your folds from your entrance to your bud, collecting your release on it as he went. His eye closed as he hummed, coming to lap at your folds once more, pleasure sparking up through you.

You gasped softly, the feeling foreign but not unwelcome. It was more intense than you had thought it could be, but perhaps you were over sensitive from the release you just had. You watched Aemond, his lilac eye opening to look up at you with a smirk.

He pulled away from your centre, lips wet with your slick, “You are as sweet as I thought you would be.”

Aemond stood, towering over you as he began to pull at his belt and breeches, wherein he began untying them, lace after lace ripped from its eyelet until they sagged. His shirt was pulled away, revealing the pale skin of his lower stomach, and the dusting of hair that trailed down from navel to pubis.

The Prince’s length strained against his breeches, the base of it just showing, a purple vein standing out against his starkly pale skin. You hadn’t gotten to see it properly the night before, and the sight of it made your core clench around nothing.

Before he pulled himself from the confines of his pants, Aemond grabbed you once more and shifted you to lay sideways atop his bed, the plush green sheets soft beneath your skin. Your eyes rose to the ceiling, looking at the soft canopy that lay atop before the screeching of a chair on stone caught your attention.

You snapped your head to the side, watching as Aemond effortlessly dragged Cregan by the chair closer to the bed, only an arms length away. He towered over the man from Winterfell who looked up at him with nothing but contempt.

“You’ll watch me fuck her,” Aemond began smugly, “And know that it could never be you. Know that it will never be you.” Cregan attempted to sit up higher in the seat, chest pulling at the ropes that held him back, “You’ll watch me bring peak after peak from her as she wets my cock and likes it, and you’ll remember that it was me doing it.”

“Aemond.” You tried to distract him, try to take the attention away from Cregan, who watched with burning eyes, “Please.”

The silver haired Prince turned his head towards you and smirked before looking back at Cregan, “You see? She already begs for more.” Aemond walked back towards you, only two short steps from the bed as his eye roamed your naked body, gaze settling into the crux of your thighs, “She only had me last night, and already she begs so nicely.”

With jerky movements, Aemond pulled his length from his breeches, the length and girth large and intimidating. The tip was a rosy pink, and long veins travelled up its length. A bead of arousal had begun to form on top, slowly leaking down the base as he knelt on the bed, pulling you down to meet his hips, and had you not already experienced it, you would have been filled with fear.

Aemond thrust into you quickly and sharply, pain filling you before a feeling of fullness, his tip pressing at the end of your walls. You hissed softly, hands having raised to grasp his arms, nails biting into his skin beneath his shirts.

Your husband leant down, lips brushing against your cheek as it moved to your ear, “Do you like when I spear you on my cock?” He purred, his breath tickling your neck.

With clenched teeth you nodded, willing your body to adjust to his size quickly.

“Use your words, you’re not a mute.”

“Yes.” You grit out, turning your head away from him as he loomed above you, arms on either side of your head as he lay between your parted thighs.

“Yes, what?”

“Yes, Aemond.”

“Close.

You swallowed, “Yes, Husband.”

“Good.” Aemond pulled out of you swiftly before he thrust back in, “Girl.”

You exhaled sharply, the angle so far different from the night before. He felt deeper, more intense, everywhere all at once.

It was overwhelming.

You scrunched your eyes shut as Aemond began to rut into you, your hands not once leaving his arms as you clutched onto him, shifting your hips to alleviate the way his tip pressed harshly against your cervix with each thrust.

His hips clapped against yours brutally, speeding up, the movement shifting you up the bed as you squeaked with each impact, a warmth beginning to pool in your gut once more. The hair at the base of his cock brushed against your pearl roughly as his pelvis slid against yours, the stimulation winding that all too familiar coil again.

A moan broke free from your lips as Aemond shook a hand free, hoisting up one of your legs atop his hip, shifting the angle entirely so that his cock brushed against the small spongey patch within you deliciously, pleasure sending sparks through your limbs. Your eyes were shut so tightly, you could see stars behind them, your bottom lip gnawed between teeth.

“Open your eyes.” Aemond breathed from above, his pace not once faltering.

Your head tipped to the side, away from where Cregan sat, eyes still scrunched shut as you whined beneath him.

“I said,” Aemond grunted, hand roughly coming to grasp your chin as he turned your head back towards Cregan, “Open.”His fingers squeezed painfully against your jaw, bruises likely to show in the morning, your eyes finally opening to find Cregan watching you already.

“Lord Stark knows how to follow orders. He’s not once taken his eyes off you.” Aemond purred, thrusting particularly sharply into you causing you to wince, “Do you think he wishes he were I?”

Your mouth felt dry again, and all you could do was watch as the blush on Cregan’s cheeks depend and his eyes momentarily flashed away form you before returning, remembering Aemond’s threat.

“I think he does, sweet wife. I think he wishes that he was in your tight, wet, cunt as I am now. Don’t you agree?”

Your breasts moved with each thrust, the sound of your slick sliding against his length loud as it was before as you huffed beneath your husband.

Aemond’s fingers tightened against your jaw, “I asked you a question.”

“Yes.”

Another squeeze.

“I do.” You breathed, your face suddenly feeling flushed.

The man on top of you pulled out suddenly, hands moving under your sides to flip you over onto your stomach.

“Do not-“ You began angrily.

“-Quiet.” Aemond snapped, grabbing your hips as he pulled you up onto your knees, your hands fisting the sheets as you looked ahead, uncertainty filling your features before you felt the head of Aemond cock slide through your folds, and push straight back inside.

“Fuck you.” You hissed as he began to fuck into you, “Gods.” The angle made you feel even fuller than before, but shallower too, his length constantly batting against your walls as his hips clapped against your ass.

You struggled to stay upright as he continued, his grip on your hips painful as he pulled you back onto him, the air being punched from your lungs each time, making you gasp out small little high pitched huffs. A hand in your hair wrenched your head back and then to the side, directing your face to meet the Stark’s who’s eyes were not on your own, but instead upon your body.

The heat of his gaze caused you to clamp down on Aemond’s length, the Lord’s roaming eyes watching as the Princes cock buried itself over and over inside of you, before slowly roaming back up your body, catching sight of your breasts below you as they moved, and then finally to your face.

Seeing that he was caught, Cregan flushed, eyes casting down briefly before looking back up at you. He shifted against the chair, hands still tightly clenched against the arm, chest heaving, his thick muscled thighs clenching against the seat, and to-

Oh.

Cregan shifted again, knowing where your gaze had fallen, his hips trying to shift back against the wooden chair, but there was nothing to hide the hardening length within his dark leathered breeches, which pressed painfully to the front of his pants.

Your core clenched again, and from behind you heard Aemond grunt.

You should have been upset, you should have been horrified, but all it did was set the heat that was already simmering in your gut ablaze, your nipples stiffening to peaks. Instinctually you arched your back, hoping to better the view, which got another grunt of appreciation from your husband, who’s pace was yet to falter, his stamina owed to years of hard work in the training yard with Ser Criston Cole.

Cregan’s lips parted as he watched you, the pink of his tongue coming out to wet his lips, and that was all it took for you to come undone. You cried out loudly, keeping your eyes on Cregan as Aemond fucked you through your release, triggering his own. He came with a growl, his hips slowing to a halt as you felt his seed pulse inside of you.

You collapsed against the bed, eyes half lidded as you watched Cregan shift again against his chair as Aemond slowly pulled out of you with a hiss. Warmth dripped from your folds and down your thighs as you felt the soft press of kiss against your shoulder blades.

Your uncle manoeuvred you on the bed again, your body pliant in his hands as he pulled you to the edge of the bed, legs spread wide for Cregan to see. The man’s pale eyes drifted down to between your thighs, watching hungrily as Aemond’s spend dripped out from within you.

“Tell me Cregan,” Aemond stood by the bed panting, tucking his length back into his breeches whilst he brushed a loose hair over your shoulder, “Did you enjoy watching me fuck my wife?”

The taunt earnt him a sneer.

“An honest question deserving of an honest answer. I thought Stark’s were known for the honesty and oaths?” Aemond pressed.

You breathed heavily as you watched Cregan’s gaze fell to you and only you in that moment as his answer was given.

“Yes.”

There was no denying the edge of arousal that roughened the edge of his answer.

“Hm.” A beat, “Would you like a taste?”

You brows furrowed as you looked up to your husband, who kept his eye on Cregan, his hand atop your shoulder brushing gently in thought.

A taste?

Did he mean to-

Your heart leapt into your throat, watching as Aemond took his blade from his side and moved towards the Stark man.

“Stop!” You yelled, watching as Cregan did not flinch when Aemond approached him.

“Worry not, I mean no harm. I am feeling generous.” Aemond purred, lifting the blade towards Cregan, “He watched dutifully as I put my seed inside of you.” His lilac eye dropped to Cregan’s hardened member, “And it seems that he has enjoyed it.” The Prince turned to face you, “I only wish to give him a parting gift. Something to remember… to agonise over for years to come.”

With a swift hand, Aemond sliced the ropes that bound Cregan's chest to the back of the chair, the Northerner staying still in his seat. The tall Targaryen bent down and cut the ropes on the mans legs loose, one by one.

“Now,” Aemond stood to his full height again, pointing his blade towards Cregan’s wrists, still tied to the chair, “Know that I have your men in a holding cell, and should you try anything, I shall have them all cut into seven pieces and strung about the gates.” Aemond paused, his gaze hardening, “And then I will stay true to my word.”

Cregan’s chest heaved with anger as he watched the prince, still not speaking a word.

“Do we understand each other?” Aemond questioned him, one silver brow lifted in challenge.

Cregan’s jaw clenched, a click audible to the chambers, “Yes.” He growled.

Aemond hummed in acknowledgement and released his hands, taking a step back as Cregan stood slowly, rubbing at his raw wrists as he looked at you on the bed. His head turned back towards your husband, uncertain of what he meant.

Impatiently Aemond thrust his arm towards you, blade still in hand, “Go to her. Taste how sweet she is, and know that you will never taste her again.”

Cregan shifted on his feet uncomfortably, looking to you for permission, for denial.

You didn’t know what to do, or what to say, so instead, you widened your legs in invitation, feeling desire begin to stir in you once more.

It was wrong.

But Gods did you need it.

“Clean her up.” Aemond commanded, and with slow and cautious steps, Cregan walked towards you.

The scent of Aemond was overpowered by that of Cregan’s. He smelt of cedar wood and fur, and the soft smell of musk beneath it all that just felt right for a Northerner.

It felt as if each stepped dragged on for days. You shifted against the bed nervously, casting your eyes to Aemond, who watched with a desire of his own.

Cregan dropped to his knees, his hands twitching by the side of your hips on the bed, cautious to even touch you, a stark difference to the way Aemond simply took. The dark haired man looked up at you breathlessly as you gave him a nod, shifting your hips towards him again, likings the way his eyes dropped down to your centre and then back up.

His large calloused hands grasped the soft meat of your hips, his eyes keeping on yours as he leant froward slowly, the heat of his breath fanning across your sensitive folds. Your mouth parted as you panted above him, watching as he wet his lips before finally pressing a chaste kiss to your core.

A soft moan escaped your mouth, head dropping back momentarily, giving him a strike of confidence before burying his tongue between your folds. You dropped back onto the bed, hands coming to grasp his hair as he licked and suckled at your folds, lapping at both your and Aemond’s release which only served to spark your desire further, that same familiar coil winding rapidly.

You tilted your head to watch him, his eyes still on you as you began to come undone on his tongue. Your name pulled you away from his stare, and you turned your head to face Aemond who watched hungrily from beside, his jaw tensed.

Already sensitive from such an intense night already, you writhed against Cregan’s mouth with a moan, his ministrations bringing you to your peak swiftly, your slick gushing into his mouth. You kept your eyes on Aemond this time, watching as he breathed deeply, his cock already beginning to swell in his breeches.

You panted and whined as the pleasure became too much, and only then did Cregan remove his face from between your thighs, roughly wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

The chambers became still as you all breathed deeply, warmth spreading through your limbs as you couldn’t decide who to look at for longest.

Your husband.

Or the Northerner.

All you could think about was what you had done.

What had just transpired.

Your husband had trapped a Lord of the North in his chambers and forced him to watch you be fucked by him, and not only that, commanded that he cleaned you after. But what was the most confusing part of all, was that all in the chambers seemed to have liked it.

“Cole.” Aemond’s voice broke the stillness of the room, the door to the chambers opening swiftly.

Cregan stepped in front of you to shield your body from Ser Cole at the same time Aemond did, his back turning to his knight as he grabbed the sheet of the bed to drape over your exposed body.

The knight entered, flagged by two guards.

Confusion flashed across Cregan’s face as he stiffened, body gearing itself up for a fight.

“Relax, Stark.” Aemond mused, not even bothering to look at the man as he observed the guards, eye landing on Ser Cole again, “Take Cregan and his men to the travel roads. Ensure they have food for travel and water for the ride. They are to leave Kings Landing immediately to return back to Winterfell.”

Ser Cole nodded, as did the guards who swiftly approached Cregan, grabbing each arm as they began to remove him from Aemond’s chambers. The dark haired man looked back at you in confusion as you clutched the sheet your chest, unsure of what to do.

“Stark.” Aemond called out before the dark haired mans foot could cross the threshold. The Northerner stilled, eyes suspicious, “Expect a raven.”

Without another word, the guards pulled Cregan out of the room, Criston shutting the door behind them. The silence in the chambers was nerve-racking, and you turned to look at your uncle, who was already making his way to fill two goblets of wine.

Your mouth opened, a myriad of questions ready to pour out your mouth, but as usual, Aemond seemed to be one step ahead.

“You’re my wife.” He began, the sound of wine filling goblets. He turned with them in hand, coming to stand beside the bed as he handed you one.

You kept one hand with the sheets against your breast, the other shakily grasping the goblet, fatigue weighing your body down. Aemond spun to sit in the very chair that Cregan had been tied to, the ropes still on the floor in a heap.

“Our marriage is one of a prospect of peace, not love.” His words stung you in a way you didn’t realise they could, “Though, I do hope to change that one day. I wish to make you happy,” He paused, taking a sip from his goblet as he thought carefully, “And it would be remiss of me to say that what just happened didn’t spark something within me.”

You frowned, “I do not understand.”

“You looked like a Queen having him kneel before you.”

A beat.

“My Queen."

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madschiavelique · 10 months

Text

𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐛𝐢𝐭𝐞 (𝐦𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐞𝐥 𝐨'𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫)

summary : so you were called for back-up on a mission with gwen, hobie, pavitr and miguel. you get him out of a tight situation, he drags you in a dark street, you get back to the team, you get shot in the thigh, and miguel starts sucking on the bullet to get it out of your skin :D (or most simply, how you got wounded and miguel is playing healing vampire)

content warnings : blood, bullet (if there are others please do tell so that i can add them !), biting (literal), miguel licking you, no use of Y/N word count : 5,3k

note : the spider babies feel like a lil found family to me, so i had to make them goofy in this. i thought about miguel’s bites not only being poisonous, but also in another dosage a great pain killer (i have strictly no idea about how realistic all this is but here have fun reading this besties). this stands as the first part of a 3-shot that i am writing for my bday which is in 4 days hehe (crying), also i didn't proof-read this and english is not my first language :D, enjoy

chapters' list : 1 - lovebite 2 - late night training 3 - unexpected mission (nsfw) 4 - shameless (nsfw)

Although this wasn't your first mission, you couldn't help but feel like a frozen steak being thrown into a hot pan. You weren't always flung into the thick of the action, of course, but today you were, because you'd been called in as reinforcements with Pavitr.

Miguel had taken Hobie and Gwen on this mission, hoping to get Gwen more used to the terrain. You had arrived a little after her, and for the moment you had restricted access to the field. But today was clearly an exception. You and Pavitr had been called in as back-up, and you immediately took the portal to the dimension in question.

As soon as you emerged from the portal, your spider-senses alerted you to the need to throw yourselves to the ground to avoid the rush of bullets that had been fired in your direction. Exchanging surprised glances, you began to crawl to the side of the building that seemed to be opposite to where the incessant gunfire was coming from, hoping to avoid being riddled with bullets. Because although Swiss cheese was appetising, it wasn't in your plans to become one.

Pavitr tapped his watch.

"Miguel, we're here, where are-" but he had no need to ask the latter's whereabouts, since right in front of them swayed Hobie and Gwen, who seemed to be fleeing... A bride?

It was a bride armed with some sort of personally optimised cannon that was firmly strapped to her body, and if your instincts were right, it would appear that her ammunition was not as simple as that commonly sold, and you dreaded to know what would come out if she fired. She moved with a sort of jet-pack, following your friends at breakneck speed, her long white veil rippling like a trail left behind an aeroplane. Immediately, the two of you began to follow to join them.

"Hey, Hobie! Gwen! We're here!" you shouted.

Suddenly, the bride's head swivelled in your direction, her big red lips stretching into a smile as her eyes widened like two big marbles. Ouch, maybe shouting your presence in the middle of a fight wasn't the right decision.

You could already hear Miguel's voice echoing in your mind: "You should have taken advantage of the surprise and used it to your advantage instead of letting the whole town know that two Spider-Men had just joined the fight!"

But hey, what's done is done, and you'll certainly remember to be more observant on your next mission.

"Ah, Miguel's little minions have joined the party! Honey?" she shouted as you both reached Gwen and Hobie, "we've got some newcomers, I hope they're on the guest list for the ceremony. It would displease me greatly if we had to eliminate them just for that reason."

"After all, murder and marriage are the same if the two people know each other and it all ends in death," you say, your eyes falling for a moment on the absolutely enormous cannon she seems to have programmed to shoot you.

"Marriage is just another contract to life anyway," replied Hobie, to which you nodded sharply. "Anyway, with her chemtrail theory flying around behind her, I'm worried."

It seemed that the anomaly was not a single anomaly, but rather a couple of anomalies, which was probably why these two had been asked to provide support.

"Where's Miguel?" asked Pavitr, all still running.

"Oh bloke, you're not going to believe your eyes when you see him," sneered Hobie.

"What happened?" you asked.

"I took a few photos of the occasion," said Gwen, "but nothing beats seeing it for real."

A loud bang sounded, and you turned to see what had just happened. The face of the building you were standing on was melting: the bride had fired a bubble of acid that had burst against the wall and was biting all the adverts that were stuck to it.

"Destroying propaganda? Bonkers, I'm starting to reconsider this," Hobie huffed.

"Miguel's further down the avenue, on that street over there," said Gwen. "Go and see him before he comes, it's well worth a look.

When the mystery is too great, you don't dare disobey, so while they were busy evacuating more civilians to reduce the number of casualties from the mission, you set off in the direction you'd been told.

You swung out into the street, and as you rounded the corner, you couldn't help but stifle a laugh. The great Miguel O'Hara, the man at the head of the Spider Society, guardian and master of the inter-dimensional balance of events, was pasted up and looked like an Egyptian drawing in the process of running, or the typical chalk drawing you would draw on the ground at a crime scene, all covered in a gooey fluffy substance.

You swung over to him, and he noticed your arrival. You landed on the edge of the wall he was stuck on, biting your lip to stop yourself from bursting out laughing.

"If you want to say something now is the time to shut up." he said, teeth clenched.

"Gwen was right, it's definitely worth the trip. Comfortable? Need a magazine? A snack perhaps?"

"Hilarious, are you going to mess with me like this for much longer or are you planning to help me out of this situation?"

"My intentions were of a slightly more agreeable nature," you huff, walking towards him on all fours.

The substance surrounding him seemed to be a kind of solid foam that kept swelling slowly. You drew out your claws and began to cut the foam from his arm.

"Lovely couple over there, real synergy between the two of them. Shame almost half of marriages end in divorce."

"You get sentimental about enemies? Keep your sensitivity out of the fight and concentrate."

"Focus on foam? Honestly you know your Marshmallow Man costume lacks realism."

He let his neck tilt back until it touches the wall, murmured between his lips: "todos me vais a matar."

A small smile stretched across your face, the poor guy must have felt like he was babysitting, and although you were older than all the other teammates, hanging out with them brought out your absurd and more childlike side, your inner child in a way.

You managed to dislodge quite a bit of foam, but it was taking too long, it was thick and had the consistency of snow whose surface had crystallised.

"I'm pulling your leg, jefe" you say, the little use of the Spanish name making him react. What, You've got to make a profit from duolingo after all. " Okay, pull in your tummy."

"What?"

You raised your arm in the air, your claws extending a little further. Lately you'd been trying to see how far you could push the limits of your costume, and the increase in your claws was one of them. It was a bit painful, but if it meant Miguel could get out of this situation and get home safe, then you might as well take it. All you could hope for was that you wouldn't fail...

Then, with a sharp, wide stroke, you sliced through the foam. The cut was perfect, and Miguel, who was just as surprised as you were, popped out of his spot as if he'd just stepped out of a mould.

" Well," he turned to you, dusting off the few remnants of foam still clinging to his body, "observations?"

This was an exercise that Miguel inflicted on every recruit during their training or recruitment. It was simple: he selected a small anomaly to keep things simple, and asked the recruit what observations they'd make to neutralise the target. Except that, in this case, the anomaly wasn't so minor. You were racking your brains.

"I didn't see the husband, but I did see the bride. She's got a jet pack that should be neutralisable, it'll slow her down in her movements, but you'd have to aim carefully to do that. Her only power is her weapon, except that as it's attached to her it's going to be complex..."

Then you remembered her attire, and especially the long veil firmly placed on her head.

"Her wedding veil, you should be able to pull it down and hold it still."

Miguel nodded, you didn't know how to take the look he was giving you through the mask, but you hoped he was satisfied with the answer.

"The husband's pretty much the same, except-" but he didn't finish his sentence, suddenly grabbing your arm and pulling you instead into a much darker, narrower adjacent alley. He leaned against a wall, looking down at the street you had just left.

"Here's the husband," he murmured.

The suddenness of the gesture took you by surprise, of course, and you seemed unable to think straight. Not just because you were so close that your bodies were pressed together, but because all your senses, all your nerves, seemed to come together in one and the same place in your body, a place where it felt like sparks were flying: Miguel's hand was placed on your waist.

Through the thin but hard-wearing fabric of your suit, you could feel the heat from his fingers spread across your skin, sending a shiver down your spine and up to your neck and cheeks to warm them. His grip was firm on your flesh, and you tried to calm your breathing, which had been racing as fast as your heart at this closeness.

His second hand still had your arm in its embrace, and the simple thought occurred to you: what if his hand came down your arm to meet yours?

You looked up at Miguel's profile, watching the street you were on, alert. You took a deep breath as you watched him, his scent coming to you through the mask as earthy, pungent. And he turned his head towards you.

The distance separating your two faces was small, terribly small, and you wondered at that moment how the scene would have unfolded if neither of you had masks on. Would he have paid any attention to the way you were looking at him? Would those dark eyes have sparkled? Would you have been able to feel his hot breath on your face?

"Is everything all right? Your heart rate's increased."

The sentence refocused you for a moment as if you'd just plunged into icy water, your reverie no doubt perceptible through the suit. You lowered your eyes, glancing at the placement of his two hands on you, blinking rapidly as you tried to pull yourself together. Quick, an excuse, anything.

"The others," you breathed, using the card of concern for teammates, "I wonder how they're holding up."

"Uh huh..." he murmured, the answer only half satisfying him, his gaze piercing yours through his mask as you felt his hand tighten on your waist, another shiver running through your body. You didn't really understand why he'd maintained this seemingly intimate embrace, but to be honest, you weren't against the idea of this position for a few more moments.

It felt good to be like that, to share someone else's closeness.

He was so big, he seemed to engulf you with his size and thickness, looming over you, and so much strength and threat in one body aroused as much interest in you as it did fear.

Pull yourself together, for God's sake, what's Miguel, your boss? He's got better things to do than that, than get close to you, than get intimate with you...

He seemed to be inspecting you strangely, and the intensity of this gesture made you look down even more, the ground suddenly seeming very interesting to look at. But if he had anything to say on the subject, it could obviously wait until the mission was over.

"The way's clear, let's go," he says, finally letting go of his hold on you, "before these idiots do any more damage than they already have."

And with a thump, he pulled a web and propelled himself into the air. A gasp escaped your lips, the sudden sensation of not being touched leaving you feeling grey. You took a deep breath, trying to refocus your thoughts on the mission and not on the irreplaceable sensation that Miguel's hands had left on your body.

You dashed off in your turn, following him to join the others.

Not far away you could hear Hobie shouting: "They're pissing on us without even making us think it's raining!" Hobie, charming as always.

Needless to say, it was a fairground. Miguel threw a web in the bride's face and found the other three on a roof. Furious, he pointed his finger towards the corner of a building that was on fire, from the bottom of which civilians kept coming out, coughing, some even injured.

"Who did this?" he asked, his throat rumbling in frustration.

"You did," Hobie answered point-blank.

"Bravo," he growled sarcastically, "it's good to admit your mistakes."

"It's paradoxical communication," he informed you, avoiding a projectile that you couldn't identify, no doubt another munition of dubious composition from the bride's weapon, who seemed to be hurtling towards you with intensity.

" I Leave it to you for two minutes and you destroy everything," Miguel murmured as he began to run towards the enemy.

" Submerged by their numbers of two we couldn't do anything," pleaded Pavitr.

"Gobsmacked, maybe she's rebelling against a terribly phallocratic world," Hobie says as he dodges a huge snowball as big as himself launched from the cannon.

"Darling? Maybe it's time for dessert, what do you think?"

Shit, here comes the husband too. He was equipped with a jet-pack just like the groom, but his weapon was much less sophisticated than his wife's, a simple submachine gun, which didn't make it harmless, quite the contrary.

"Great idea! It's time for the icing on the cake," and with these words she seemed to throw portions of sweet and colourful cream towards your group.

"Come on, dance! Dance!" ordered the husband.

"No! I don't wanna dance, I'm from the town in footloose," you blurted out, trying to pull a simple web towards the cannon of the bride's gun.

You didn't succeed, but threw a second one anyway, taking the risk of standing still for a few moments to improve your aim. The web shot out and hit the barrel of the weapon. Yes! but the celebrations were short-lived, as a rush of bullets came crashing towards you, and even in your haste to escape, you were hit in the thigh.

A strangled little grunt vibrated against your teeth and lips, you didn't know exactly what it had struck in your leg, but the pain was sudden and stinging. Still, you followed the others a little, with difficulty. Every simple movement was a painful tug.

The group eventually stopped in an empty courtyard, to deliberate, talk strategy and how to organise themselves. The landing on the ground was a little abrupt, and you staggered back to your feet towards the group.

"Hey, you all right?" Hobie asked you.

"Never been better," you said, giving a thumbs up, your nose wrinkling at the next step.

"Are you sure you're okay? You're walking like a Disney witch," said Patvir, raising an eyebrow.

"Bollocks, your thigh!" pointed Hobie as he came towards you.

You looked down, the bullet had of course pierced the fabric of your suit, stretching the elastic material over your bloody thigh from the hole the bullet had punched in your thigh.

"Calm down," Gwen said in the distance, chatting to Miguel, "let me take care of this, Miguel."

"Like you've taken care of everything else so far, Gwen?" he said, his hands resting on his hips.

"Miguel?" called Pavitr.

"What do you want?" he asked as he turned his head suddenly towards where you guys were.

"Can't you answer 'yes' like everyone else?" gasped Pavitr.

But Miguel was already coming towards you, he must have seen the impact in your thigh.

"Nice icing on the cake, eh?" you said, laughing slightly at the situation. After all, ridicule poisons fear.

But the shots were already ringing out and they were coming towards you.

" Okay," breathed Miguel, "Hobie, Pavitr, Gwen, try to immobilise them. The husband is easy to neutralise, just hit his jet-pack and take away his weapon. For the bride, try to take her towards the river, if you make her fall into the water she will start to sink with all her layers of clothes and the weight of her dress. Pull her by her veil if you have to, but go ahead. The first one to do even a little unintentional damage again will end up with his back broken like a glow stick, got it?"

"I don't take orders," Hobie refused.

"Hobie, you take care of the bridegroom with Gwen," Miguel continued as if he wasn't listening to him any more, moving closer to you. He tossed him his multidimensional cell device, as if he was worth reaching for.

"Why does he only come and ask me things once a day, as if I were a vitamin?" Hobie huffs before launching himself into the air.

"Oh, you know, that's what we love about him, his boundless empathy," remarked Gwen before shooting a web and leaving in her turn.

"Why do I always get the less interesting ones," said Pavitr before leaving as well.

Miguel turned to you, taking off his mask. His brown hair was dishevelled and he didn't even put his hand through it before ordering:

"Sit.

You'd have liked to contradict him, to say that you could definitely wait until you got back to HQ and received treatment there rather than slowing down the mission when you'd literally been called in as backup. And here you were, the backup turned liability in the situation, so contradicting him wasn't really in your plans.

You backed away, leaning against the wall and letting yourself slide with difficulty against the bricks as you tried to put as little weight as possible on your damaged leg. With a muffled whimper, you reached the ground, stretching your bad leg further as you bent the other. You took off your mask in turn, no longer able to hide your expressions of pain. The sensation you'd had at first had been sharp, but now it felt like your thigh was on fire and the wound was licking at your skin like flames.

Miguel came forward and knelt beside you. His gaze was riveted on your thigh, and when his gloved hand came to rest beside the wound, you stiffened your back and couldn't help breathing in through clenched teeth. His brown eyes looked up into yours, watching your expressions through the wild strands of his hair. But it was also simply a look for permission to continue his gestures.

"If it hurts too much, use your mask," he said, his eyes returning to the wound.

The mask? In what way would the mask be- ah, so... You watched your mask, hesitating for a moment. What Miguel meant by that suggestion was biting your mask. Since you were probably going to grit your teeth, you might as well not hurt yourself too much and tear them up by biting into something. You wavered at the thought, preferring not to damage any more of your costume. You'd already dented it with your punctured thigh, but ripping your mask on top of that? No, preferably not.

His thumb felt your skin, and he pressed down on a spot that threw you so hard that your hand immediately grabbed his wrist. You were breathless, almost nauseous from the pain, and you opened your frowning eyes again to meet Miguel's gaze, which had stopped all movement of his hand.

You looked up at him, your eyes and nose stinging with the tears that threatened to spill from the pain. He breathed, his eyes falling on your hand, then straightened towards yours:

"If you don't let me touch it, I'll pin your hands down with my webs, is that clear?"

Biting the inside of your cheek, you let out a shaky breath and removed your hand, which seemed ridiculously small compared to his.

"Well, the bullet's really not deep, so it should be fine."

Honestly, you didn't know whether it was better for you to know what was going to happen, and you were somehow grateful that he wasn't detailing his operation to you, even though he was doing it mainly out of lack of time.

His two hands came to grip your thigh to hold it steady, he gave you one last look, then lowered his head close to your thigh, and you saw a flash of white gleam from his long, sharp fangs before they sank into your skin. A strangled cry drowned in your throat as you felt them ooze something wet, liquid seeping into your skin and blood.

Miguel's bites weren't just poisonous, they could also be incredibly helpful in situations like these, where they acted as both a mild painkiller and a kind of antidote that accelerated the healing process. And although the painkiller aspect wasn't performing well enough for your liking, you were still quite happy not to feel like you were in complete agony.

The sensation of his lips on your flesh, however, previously drowned out by the sensations of all your aching nerves, became much clearer. Their softness grazing your skin with more intimacy than he was aware of.

He hadn't bitten down on the wound, to prevent the bullet from moving any further, and you took a deep breath when he moved away, pulling his fangs out of your skin. His tongue cleaned them, and he glanced at you as he did so, just to make sure you were all right.

Please tell me I haven't become a big walking tomato, you thought. Now apparently the most important phase would begin: extracting the bullet. You bit down hard on your bottom lip, still feeling pain, then nodded to allow him to continue.

He bent down again, coming dangerously close to the wound, to your raw flesh where warm blood was dripping. The bullet wasn't far from the surface, luckily the suit had played a large part in cushioning it.

He breathed in lightly, then put his lips to the wound. A current of electricity ran through your body as all sorts of sensations mixed together in one place. The burn on your thigh had just met the slightly sticky wetness of Miguel's saliva and the warmth of his mouth and lips as he began to draw.

You realised what Miguel was doing, he was sucking the bullet out of your flesh. His tongue flicked lightly around the impact, and his fangs, still a little elongated, lightly traced your skin.

Your breath was erratic, and you tried to stabilise it, but the sensations seemed so extreme that the task was complicated. The thing about spider-senses is that your senses are heightened, so the slightest movement of Miguel's lips, tongue or fangs sent shivers through your body. He drew back to spit out the excess saliva and blood that had mingled before coming back and sucking harder. You could feel the bullet coming out little by little, still biting your lip fiercely until you felt a metallic taste, and were insistently reconsidering the choice of biting into your mask. So you switched to the side of your index finger, biting it as your frown of pain intensified.

Then Miguel pressed his lips a little harder, and your body had to grab hold of something. Then, inadvertently and with many mental 'oh no's attacking your being as soon as the gesture was made, you grabbed Miguel's hair.

His eyes immediately looked up at yours, wide, questioning the gesture, and the sight made you feel as if your heart had fallen into the warmth of your stomach. His brown eyes had a flash of red and peered through his long lashes, their colour blending perfectly with his blood-smeared cheeks.

You were so desperate for a foothold that your body hadn't given a second thought to what it should be gripping. He just froze, for a few seconds that seemed as long as minutes. You calmed your breathing, taking advantage of the respite from his movements to relax a little. Worried, you looked up at him again, dreading his reaction.

But nothing, no 'what the hell are you doing', no 'stop that immediately', no 'that's inappropriate', no reprimand, nothing. Your fingers in his hair relaxed, they were much softer than you'd imagined, but your hand didn't leave its place. You felt both his hands tighten around your thigh, making you swallow hard. He just gave you one last look before flicking his tongue around the wound and continuing his suction.

Your fingers reflexively gripped his hair again and Miguel let out a low rumble from his throat that vibrated up your thigh and into the bullet. The sensation was such that you suddenly turned your head to the side, closing your eyes tightly until you saw stars. The tears that had welled up started falling, determined.

Miguel's hot breath washed over your bare, rosy skin, turning visibly purple with the repeated suctions Miguel left in his path. His normal teeth were biting into your skin around the bullet to create the pressure that would eject it.

You locked your fingers in his hair again, and felt his hands tighten their grip on your thigh as a low hmpf vibrated against your skin again. Then he drew in harder, and pressed his teeth in deeper, and you felt your finger beading with blood as your teeth pierced your skin.

And then, at last, you felt the bullet come out. A deep sigh poured from your lungs as you eased your hand from his hair to wipe away the tears that had rolled down your cheeks. He stepped back, his eyes looking into yours, his cheeks and nose all covered in blood, and between his reddened teeth was the crushed bullet.

You looked at him like this, your cheeks heating up violently. He spat the bullet out to the side, then looked back at your thigh. He breathed heavily, clenching his jaw as he let go of your thigh, bringing one of his hands up to wipe his cheek with the back of it.

"Put some webs on it, that should be enough to last us until we get to HQ."

His eyes scanned yours, tired, reddened, a tear still running down them. He wiped it away with the back of his index finger, letting it fall onto the fabric of his suit. The gesture was gentle, almost like a caress as his finger gently traced your cheek.

"You did great, muñeca", he said, his voice soft, softer than you'd ever heard it.

The nickname gave you a warm, soft feeling in your lower stomach. He straightened up, his mask in hand, the other stretched out towards you, ready to be seized.

No comment on the pulled hair? You were afraid he'd mention it, or were you afraid he wouldn't mention it at all.

"Can you stand up?" he asked.

You looked at your thigh for a moment, then did as he instructed and pulled a few webs over the still open wound. Then, looking up, you grabbed Miguel's hand to help you up. You breathed through your teeth, the pain was still there, but now that the bullet had been dislodged and Miguel's pain-killing venom was coursing through your veins, the ache was lessened.

You were swaying slightly and Miguel's reflex was to place his hand on your waist to steady you. He gave a retentive tt-tt.

"Try to stick to the webs, do as little walking or running as possible," he said before putting his mask back on, which you in turn did. "Ready?"

You bobbed your head, putting your weight on your good leg, "ready.

With a nod, you both took off.

Soon you found Pavitr who had managed to catch the husband who, on closer inspection, had one of his eyes as white as a half-cooked egg. Perhaps this explained his random aiming. In any case, he was huffing and puffing like a rhinoceros.

"It's about time," Pavitr yawned, "your leg?"

You gave him a thumbs up.

" Where are Gwen and Hobie? " Miguel asked.

"Further down the river like you said."

"Well, you can go back to HQ, we'll take care of the rest- can you go on?" he said, turning to you.

"Yep, the only thing that could stop me would be myself."

"Was that the philosophical moment?" asked Pavitr. "That deserves a few lyrical songs, doesn't it?"

"It's pathetic," admitted Miguel as he left.

You followed him, Pavitr entering a portal to return to 928.

"Are you trying to destroy our pseudo-friendship?

"Pseudo-friendship?" he chuckles, "you mean how I removed that bullet with my teeth, and you-"

"Ah, the amnesia's getting to me!" you cut in, continuing along the road faster than him until you reach the river where, hanging from a lamppost on the quayside, the bride was dripping wet and stripped of her weapon. She seemed simply stunned, and Gwen and Hobie were standing in front of her, still tense from their fight.

You approached the two lads, smiling at Gwen who had finally succeeded in her training.

"Good job!" you said, raising your fist to her height, which she banged in a friendly manner, doing the same for Hobie.

"Hobie?" called Miguel in the distance.

"Don't move," said the latter, "it's like with bears, if you don't do anything they'll leave."

"This is the right way," affirmed Gwen.

"Where's the weapon?" asked Miguel, who had finally reached your level.

"It fell into the water," he replied simply.

"What?" asked Miguel.

"Relax, I'm just messing with you. It's behind you," he said, pointing with his chin at the wet weapon on the ground.

"So, how did it go?"

"I wouldn't go into details," Hobie sighed.

"What are you trying to accomplish here?" Asked Miguel.

"I don't want to listen to you; malicious criticism hurts my self-esteem and praise leaves me sceptical."

Miguel sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose, murmuring "Voy a matarlos."

"I hope one day you'll understand what I've just said," he whispered, climbing up the lamppost to unhook the bride and place her in another multi-dimensional cell.

"Did you hear anything?" you asked ironically.

"Oh no, I didn't hear anything, did you?" questioned Gwen to Hobie.

"I've got an ear infection."

You smiled at this conversation, watching Miguel fiddle with his watch.

"How's your leg, by the way?" asked Hobie.

"I've still got the bullet, I'm going to be ringing airport buzzers for the rest of my life."

"Huh?" exclaimed Gwen.

"Just kidding, everything's fine."

"Why do you have to be like that? In situations like this, 'I'm fine' is the standard response," she huffed.

"I'm on a strict diet of misplaced enthusiasm and gut-wrenching regret." You affirmed.

"Huh huh, diets are bad," Hobie remarked. "It's just another way for capitalism to prove that their system is superior to you."

"Well, come on, let's go home," Miguel called.

His eyes fell on you for a moment, and in the space of that glance the vision of his crimson eyes, his fangs glistening with your blood smeared across his cheeks came back to your mind. You entered the portal, and soon enough, as you got into the lift, the horizon formed as far as the eye could see, with towers sunk like daggers into the belly of the sky, and so high that, from sleep, you could plunge into the clouds.

And now you couldn't think of anything else but Miguel.

part two >> late night training

#madschiavelique ⟢ ݁ ˖‧˚₊ ☁︎#miguel o'hara #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel ohara #miguel x reader #spiderman 2099 spiderverse #astv miguel #miguel astv #astv #astv x reader #spiderman atsv #miguel x you #miguel x y/n #miguel spiderman

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hannieehaee · 7 months

Text

idol!mingyu and idol!you secretly crushing on each other since you were first introduced by a mutual friend.

wc: 442

part 2, part 3

masterlist

immediately hitting it off with mingyu right after being welcomed into the 97 squad due to the privileges of being born that year.

you and mingyu always walking into the hybe building together as you follow an unspoken agreement of arriving at the entrance of the elevators every morning at a similar time as an excuse of seeing each other.

walking you to your practice room, despite his being a floor below it and having to make a second trip just to get to his, often earning glares from his own group mates.

texting while rehearsing because you want to time your breaks in order to see each other, but still not admitting to yourselves you're mutually crushing on one another, even when everyone else around you screams it in your face.

going to the hybe gym together, even though working out around each other is fruitless seeing as you're both distracted by the appearance of the other sweaty and out of breath.

ditching your managers to hang out alone at the rooftop of the building, still clinging onto the idea that you're still just platonic friends.

sticking to each other during any 97 outing, unintentionally tuning out everyone else as you entertain only one another, enjoying the luxury of a public outing without any scrutiny due to the presence of the rest of the 97s.

mingyu being teased nonstop by the other 97s as soon as you leave the room to powder your nose, finally admitting to himself that, yes, maybe he does like you a little more than the average friend would.

you needing a short break from mingyu's touchiness as he gets drunk with his friends, not knowing how much more you can handle before you physically light on fire in front of all your friends due to the unintentional(?) effect of his touches.

you and mingyu finally going past your breaking point one day and kissing in his apartment one day after your other friends had gone home for the night.

him innocently insisting you stay the night despite not wanting to rush things under the vice that he's always wanted to hold you in your sleep, and also because he doesnt want to let you go now that he has you.

going into the hybe building together the next day, pretending nothing happened due to your idol status, despite the fact his band mates can see the blush on his face when you pop in for a visit during practice.

him saying 'fuck it' and holding your hands, swinging them back and forth as he coos at your shy demeanor at the obviousness of your friendship evolving.

a/n: ok i had no idea how to end this but i thought it was a cute concept so i'll expand on it some other time hehe also not proofread btw

#seventeen #svt #seventeen imagines #seventeen imagine #seventeen oneshot #mingyu #mingyu fanfic #mingyu x reader #mingyu fic #mingyu imagine #mingyu oneshot #mingyu scenario #seventeen scenarios

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narcissistshandler · 9 months

Note

omg! request!! pt 2. of hobie's fic pleasure to insanity(? i think) the one w anal beads,,, the first one is reader inserting it, but for part2, reader taking out the anal beads and fingers him. thats all! hehe thankyouu

𝗜𝗡𝗦𝗔𝗡𝗜𝗧𝗬 𝗧𝗢 𝗖𝗢𝗟𝗟𝗔𝗣𝗦𝗘

✧ 𝖯𝖠𝖨𝖱𝖨𝖭𝖦 gn!reader x hobie brown

✧ 𝖶𝖠𝖱𝖭𝖨𝖭𝖦𝖲 overstimulation, anal beads, bottom!hobie, fingering, anal play, implied fainting

✧ 𝖠/𝖭 this is very short and I will correct any grammar mistakes soon. I hope you like it (part one here)

There was saliva dripping from Hobie's mouth and running down his cheek onto the pillow under his head. His fingers had lost the strength where they previously gripped the pillow and his whole body felt numb, his skin hot to the touch and tingling.

His hole worn and stretched after all those long minutes or hours, Hobie didn't know, he couldn't remember what time it was now or what time it was when you pushed him down on the bed and started sliding each ball from the littlest anal beads to the biggest into him. It appeared to be dark outside, but maybe that was just exhaustion affecting the view in his half-closed eyes.

"Can I take it off now?" you questioned bending over him to get a view of his face. Hobie took a deep breath, quick, ragged breaths which demonstrated how much you playing with his body had affected him, not even fighting capitalism and patriarchy had ever exhausted him so much.

Despite the numbness straining each of his limbs, rigidly curled into a half-bent position, the weight inside him demanded all of his attention. The silicone spheres flattened against each other, filling his channel, his hole that although he could barely feel it, he knew was barely closing by the toy that the contractions constantly tried on their own to expel. Each of those attempts sent shocks through the muscles in his legs.

"Yes, just-" Hobie sighed, "Be quick."

One of your hands landed on the curve of his hip, reassuring, firm. The other's hand touch disappeared and as soon as the thread connecting the anal beads was pulled - even if it was a slight tug - it made Hobie's whole body tense. He could feel the balls shifting inside him, reacting to the pull and hovering there, right on the taut edge of his hole. You stopped. Hobie took a deep breath. And then, without waiting for the air to even fully leave his lungs, your finger wrapped around the rope and you pulled hard, your hand on Hobie's hip doing its best to keep him still during the process.

All the silicone spheres that filled his channel moved together, one pressing against the other in their attempt to follow the pull of the rope and get out of him. His edge expanded and like a violent wave all the balls from the biggest to the smallest came out of him aggressively, carrying with them a huge amount of lubricant that gave the false impression that Hobie's ass was producing lubrication.

It was all so sudden that Hobie felt like lightning went through his entire body, from head to toe.

His mouth dropped open, throat dry and scratchy producing a scream that ended in silence. His legs twitched, feet curled and his hole convulsed. There was a wet puddle growing beneath him and Hobie didn't know if he'd managed to come again, squirted, or pissed himself. None of the options were quite understood in his overloaded mind, it was wet, but then sweat clung to his black skin, lube, semen and saliva creating a disgusting mess.

He was suddenly empty, all the weight and fullness inside him gone, and all Hobie felt was the throbbing - it was the blood coursing through his veins and pulsing in his ears. His skin was on fire, hole opening and closing in involuntary contractions, your fingers passed over the swollen edge like a light caress, feeling the pulse beneath your digits. Your voice was far away, Hobie couldn't understand what you were talking about, even breathing was becoming difficult, trying to stop the violent tremor that shook his bones was out of the question.

Your fingers pressed in with ease, Hobie's hole was open and leaking, the touch was too much and Hobie weakly warned you about it, but maybe the voice didn't even leave his throat. Two fingers slipped inside through the swell of the relaxed edge and wedged between the walls, convulsing over and over. Hobie's right leg kicked out with a cracking sound; an unthinking reaction to the stimulation that was so much it hurt and burned all the way from your fingers entering him, a phantom sensation that Hobie located between sweltering heat, tenderness and sweat; a crack sounded.

Hobie tried to drag himself away from the touch, even though in the pit of his stomach what burned along with the pain was pleasure, desire, a need for more that sent his overheated mind spinning. His cock, wet and softened, twitched weakly in response.

Darkness grew under his eyelids. Hobie moaned like a wounded animal, feeling every joint of your fingers slide deeper and deeper, taking advantage of how easy and relaxed his hole was after taking a fist-sized silicone sphere.

There was no stretching and his inside burned so hard the intrusion was barely felt and yet, your fingers in him were all his body could focus on, nothing else mattered, nothing else... In seconds, verything faded.

#x male reader #x gn reader #x top reader #across the spiderverse x reader #across the spiderverse x male reader #across the spiderverse x gn reader #hobie brown x you #hobie brown x gn!reader #hobie brown x male reader #hobie brown smut #hobie brown x reader #atsv x you #atsv x reader #atsv x male reader #atsv x gn reader

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vernons-girl · 2 months

Note

hi! yeah um i.. read ur newest fic 'not her' with kmg and i kind of wanted to add a continuation to that...? (only if u want to ofc!)

so basically reader got her heart broken by mingyu and her sister, soooo she goes on and vents her feelings and how heart broken she is to another one of her pals, seungcheol (without knowing seungcheol likes reader) so he comforts her and u can probably add the ending (fluff or angst or anything!)

im sorry this is too long.. i rlly tried to make it shorter lmao (btw i LUV ur fics so much)

not her | kim mingyu - choi seungcheol pt.2

PART 1 ; PART 2 ; PART 3 (final)

angst, fluff,wc:2.5k

taglist: @gaslysainz ; @graybaeismytae ; @mansaaay

a/n: did i completely put mingyu aside in this part? yes. will i make a part three where we really dive into the drama with everyone kdrama love triangle way? you guys tell me hehe

You couldn't bear looking at the scene that was unfolding in front of your eyes so you gathered your stuff in a hurry and left, completely forgetting the idea of shopping for a new outfit.

You made it home in record time. Rushing to lock yourself in your room once you made it through the door.

Mingyu choosing someone else than you was one thing, but your sister going behind your back to betray you, after you had confided in her? That was a whole other thing.

You couldn't help but cry as soon as you found yourself alone in the comfort of your room. You were feeling too many things at the same time and couldn't quite pinpoint why you were crying. Was it the pain? The anger? The disappointment? The heartbreak? Maybe it was all of it at once.

You couldn't bare the idea of having to face any of them about the issue right now, let alone having to see your sister when she would get back home, so you did the first thing that came to mind : you packed an overnight bag, texted your most trustful friend and headed over to his place.

You reached Seungcheol's place about an hour after you had texted him. You hadn't told him much over text, actually you hadn't told him anything besides 'can i come spend the night?' to which he agreed, of course, he didn't need to know why you needed to spend the night over at his place when you had a perfectly decent bed of your own, he just agreed without any further questions.

He greeted you at the door with a worried look on his face that he couldn't conceal no matter how hard he tried. You've confided in him before, but never did it feel so worrying. Without a second thought, he pulled you inside with a hug. The action broke down all the walls you had tried to build on your way there instantly. You felt as if you were falling apart in his arms, melting in his embrace perhaps, and you let the tears stream down your face, not caring about the embarrassing whines coming out of your mouth as you did so. He didn't seem to care either. Because all he did was hold you, closely, firmly but carefully, rubbing soothing circles on your back, shushing you like one would do with a baby. But it all felt so right amongst all the chaos around you that you let yourself be in the moment, until he pulled you straight on your feet to lead you to the living room, "Come on, let's talk about this around a warm drink, yeah?" he said, trying his best to show off a reassuring smile.

You obliged and sat down on the couch as Seungcheol got some snacks ready along with something to drink. In the meantime you allowed yourself to relax, sunking down onto the couch wishing it could somehow swallow you whole.

Thankfully, Seungcheol joined you pretty quickly so you didn't have the time to get lost in your thoughts once again. You straightened up to grab the cup he was handing out to you from the tray he had placed on the coffee table in front of you.

"Sooooo..." Seungcheol started, he didn't want to push you into it but he still needed to at least have an idea of what was going on.

You took a sip of your drink followed by a deep breath.

"So... I had a crush on this guy, and I genuinely thought that he could like me, you know?" you tried to hold back the tears that threatened to spill from your eyes once again.

"And I wasn't the only one thinking this.. my sister thought so too." Seungcheol now had a curious look and urged you to keep going.

"I was supposed to meet up with him in a few days and I really wanted to confess, I really did." this time, the tears fell from your eyes, you couldn't help it, it was so fresh, so hard, your body needed to express this unbearable inner pain it was feeling.

Seungcheol offered some comfort with his free hand coming to rub up and down your arm, "We don't have to talk about it any more if you don't feel like it," he reassured you.

"No, it's okay, you affirmed, so, you started again, I wanted to make things right, I wanted to impress him, to make him like me any more than he might already do, so I went to the mall to do some shopping, a sob escaped from your dry lips, but then I saw them, him, her" you sniffled, letting out shaky breaths in an attempt to calm yourself down.

"Them ? Him? Her?" Seungcheol asked.

"My crush and my sister" you finally said, your heart breaking a little more. The look on your friend's face changed to... confusion?

"Wait so you saw your sister with your crush at the mall? What about it?

- They were kissing, Seungcheol. Kissing."

Upon hearing this last word, his expression morphed to anger in a matter of seconds.

"What the fuck?!" he suddenly exclaimed, almost slamming his mug down onto the table.

"She kissed him knowing you liked him? This is so twisted. I can't believe it." He let out in disbelief, rubbing a hand down his face.

"And he didn't tell me either. He never told me he was seeing someone. What if she told him about my crush on him and they both fucked me over? you put your face in both on your hands, crying softly, What am I supposed to do now Seungcheol?" you questioned desperately, almost pleading him for an answer.

He leaned back in his seat, looking up in thought.

"Who is he?" he finally asked.

"Who's who?" okay maybe it wasn't the best idea to play dumb, but how could you tell him that Mingyu, your friend who also happens to be one of Seungcheol's, broke your heart ?

"The guy, he said firmly, who's the guy?" ok so now he wasn't playing. You've never seen him look this serious before, the concern and anger still obvious on his face.

You took a deep breath, preparing yourself for the worst when you breathed out : "Mingyu."

He clenched his fists upon hearing the name leave your shaky lips. As a matter of fact, his whole body tensed.

"So you saw Mingyu kissing your sister who knew you liked Mingyu ?" he summarized.

"Yeah.." you confirmed, your gaze lingering on the floor, the carpet curiously looking much more interesting than you friend who was sitting across from you.

"Does she know ? he asked

-Mh?

-Your sister. Does she know you saw them ?

-No, they didn't see me and I came over before she got home, so we didn't talk about it.

-And do you think he knew?

-Knew what ?

-That you liked him ?

-I don't know.. I don't think so, you reasoned, he would never be so cruel. you affirmed

-Yeah, you're probably right.." Seungcheol agreed, even though he wanted nothing but to punch his dear friend in the face for hurting you, he also knew it wasn't his style to hurt people's feelings. I mean this guy literally apologized to his last girlfriend for breaking up with her so of course he wasn't going to hurt one of his closest friends.

Seungcheol sighed deeply, running a hand through his hair in frustration. "This is a messed up situation, no doubt about it," he muttered, his expression reflecting a mixture of concern and anger.

You nodded, feeling a bit of relief knowing Seungcheol was there to listen, even if he couldn't magically fix everything. It was nice knowing there was at least one person you could trust in this whole mess.

After a moment of silence, Seungcheol leaned forward, taking both of your hands in his, his eyes fixed on you. "Listen, I know it hurts like hell right now, but you're stronger than this. I'm not going to tell you to not think about it because I know it feels impossible right now but you need to focus on yourself, okay ?

- Yeah.. you replied.

- What do you need right now?"

You thought for a moment, wiping away the tears that still lingered. "I just... I need some time to figure things out. Away from all of this," you said, gesturing vaguely around you.

Seungcheol nodded in understanding. "Alright. I get it. You can stay here as long as you need. I'll be here for you, okay?"

You managed a weak smile, feeling a sliver of hope, "Thank you, Seungcheol. I don't know what I'd do without you."

He smiled back, a reassuring presence in the middle of all of this turmoil. "You don't have to figure it all out right now. Just take it one step at a time. And remember, you're not alone in this." he finally said, giving your hands a reassuring squeeze.

And as you glanced over at Seungcheol, you couldn't help but feel a flutter in your chest, realizing just how much he truly cared for you. Perhaps, in the midst of all this chaos, there was a silver lining after all—a silver lining named Seungcheol.

"Come on, let's get you settled in bed, yeah?" he said, standing up and offering his hand out for you to take. You did so and followed him down the hallway.

As Seungcheol led you to the spare bedroom where you would be spending the night, he couldn't help but feel a mix of emotions swirling inside him. On one hand, he was glad to be able to offer you a comfortable place to rest after everything you'd been through. But on the other hand, he couldn't shake the pang of jealousy he felt at the thought of you sleeping under the same roof in a bed that wasn't his.

As he pulled back the covers and fluffed the pillows, he tried to push aside those selfish thoughts. After all, what mattered most was that you were safe and comfortable. But as he glanced over at you, he couldn't help but notice how beautiful you looked in the soft light of the bedside lamp, your eyes heavy with exhaustion yet still so full of resilience.

"Here you go," he said, gesturing to the bed. "I hope you'll be comfortable here."

You offered him a grateful smile as you sank down onto the mattress, letting out a contented sigh. "Thank you, Seungcheol. I really appreciate it."

He returned your smile, trying to ignore the way his heart skipped a beat at the sound of your voice. "Of course. Anything for you."

As he turned to leave the room, he couldn't help but linger for a moment, his gaze lingering on your sleeping form. In that moment, he realized just how much he cared about you—more than just a friend, more than just a crush. And as he quietly closed the door behind him, he made a silent promise to himself to always be there for you, no matter what.

As you settled into the comfortable bed Seungcheol had prepared for you, your mind started to buzz with thoughts of the events that had unfolded earlier. Despite your exhaustion, sleep eluded you as you thought about your sister's and Mingyu's betrayal. A notification from your phone interrupted your thoughts, a message from your sister asking where I was, seemingly worried as to what you were up to. Against you better judgment, you decided to ignore it for the moment as you let out a heavy sigh and turned your attention to Seungcheol.

He had been so kind and supportive throughout the evening, offering you a safe haven and a shoulder to lean on. His actions spoke volumes, and somehow you couldn't help but wonder if there was something more behind his gestures. The way he looked at you, the tenderness in his voice—it all hinted at a deeper connection between you. And as you drifted off into a restless sleep, you couldn't shake the feeling that perhaps Seungcheol's feelings for you ran deeper than mere friendship.

After ensuring that the spare bedroom was tidy and comfortable for you, Seungcheol made my way to the living room to clean up the mess from earlier. As he picked up discarded snack wrappers and empty mugs, his mind also ended up wandering to the events of the evening.

He couldn't shake the anger and frustration he felt towards Mingyu for hurting you, someone he cared deeply about. And yet, amidst the chaos, he couldn't deny the flutter of hope that sparked within him at the thought of being there for you, of being the one you turned to in her time of need.

As he finished cleaning up, he reached for his phone and sent a quick text to Mingyu, his fingers hesitating over the keys. Despite his anger towards him, a part of him couldn't help but wonder if this was his chance to finally confess his feelings to you. But as he stared at the blank screen, he couldn't bring myself to send the message. Instead, he pocketed his phone and made his way back to the spare bedroom, his heart heavy with uncertainty and longing.

As Seungcheol lay in bed, the weight of the evening's events heavy on his mind, he couldn't shake the feeling that there was more to the situation than met the eye.

As he mulled over the possibilities, a nagging thought tugged at the corners of his mind. What if Mingyu wasn't entirely clueless about your feelings? What if, somehow, he had sensed your affection for him, even if you hadn't explicitly confessed it?

The idea seemed far-fetched at first, but the more Seungcheol thought about it, the more it made sense. Mingyu was perceptive, after all, and he had always been attentive to the people around him. Perhaps he had noticed the subtle glances, the lingering touches, the way your face lit up whenever you were near him.

But if Mingyu was aware of your feelings, why would he pursue a relationship with your sister? Was it out of genuine interest, or was there something more sinister at play? Seungcheol couldn't shake the feeling that there was a piece of the puzzle missing, something lurking beneath the surface that he couldn't quite grasp.

As he drifted off to sleep, his mind buzzing with unanswered questions, Seungcheol's thoughts inevitably turned to you. Despite the troubles of the evening, one thing remained clear: his feelings for you ran deep. With each passing moment, his love for you only seemed to grow stronger, anchoring him amidst the storm of uncertainty.

As he vowed to uncover the truth about Mingyu's intentions, Seungcheol's resolve was fueled not only by a sense of justice for you but also by a burning desire to protect you from further harm. For he knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that he would do anything to ensure your happiness, even if it meant confronting his own heartache in the process.

With that thought in mind, Seungcheol closed his eyes, feeling a sense of determination wash over him. Whatever challenges lay ahead, he would face them head-on, armed with nothing but his unwavering love for you. And as sleep finally claimed him, he couldn't help but cling to the hope that, somehow, everything would turn out alright in the end.

#seventeen #seventeen imagines #seventeen scenarios #seventeen reactions #seventeen x reader #seungcheol #seungcheol imagines #seungcheol scenarios #seungcheol x reader #mingyu #mingyu imagines #mingyu scenarios #mingyu x reader

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greeneywa · 1 year

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Ao'nung Dating deaf and Mute sully reader headcanon

First of when you first arrived, he didn't think much of you you were just another 'freak" on his island. He also find you pretty weird like, your ears don't react of flickers to sounds, you always seem in your own world and you never said a word.."what is wrong with her" he tought.

But he quickly changed his mind when he went swimming with you and your siblings

When your brothers get back to the surface he sign to his sister "what is their problem"

You sign to him "they're not good divers"

Tsireya look at you shocked before signing

"you know the sign language ?"

"how" ao'nung sign.

"I am deaf and mute so I've learned the sign language to communicate with everyone"

You sign with a smile on your face.

Tsireya and rotxo smiled at you before joining your siblings while ao'nung give you a long stare with soften eyes before following his sister.

After that he was strangely soft with you yet he still pick on your siblings but not on you, when you were around he was all nice asking you if you need help, if you want to hold his hand to guide you in the water and then you remind him that your deaf not blind.

He quickly understand that he was crushing on you, he have that uncontrollable need to keep you close and protect you for him you are too precious and soft for this cruel world you need him to take care of you...neteyam and lo'ak find it very ironic coming from him..

The day he confess to you he went straight to the point by going to your family's marui

With his parents as for a "important meeting " jake and Neytiri we're scared you were their calmest child..you couldn't have done anything wrong right ?

But they soon calm down when Tonowari told them the reason of this meeting

"Jake sully.I A'onung come to you today with my family to tell you that I am hopelessly infatuated with your daughter Y/N I want your blessing to court her and maybe with Eywa's grace bond to her.." you were flutter by how romantic he was he then look at you and softly smiled you blushed and smiled back

Jake and neytiri gave him their blessing and since then you were to most spoiled female on the Island. He come to pick you up every morning, hunt for you and give some handmade gifts all the time, take you on ilu rides at night and stargazing, ya'll even create your own secret anguage to communicate more intimately

His friend never dare to pick on you because of your inability to talk like they used to neither other metkayina teens .

He want to keep the affection display in private as the chiefs eldest son he got a image to keep so he don't do much in public some people even doubt that he is your boyfriend he don't act cold you know but he treat you as any random girl he met.all the sweet things like nicknames, cuddles, hugs, kisses etc are strictly prohibited in public and only allowed behind closed doors

But in private its a different story..

Hehe

@tinkerbelle05

Want a part 2? Or a fanfic based on this?

#aonung x reader #avatar 2 #atwow x reader #avatar the way of water #omaticaya #neteyam #aonung smut #aonung #avatar twow #rotxo x reader

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willownwisp · 3 months

Text

starry skies, blue eyes

ii. loving you and the little things you do. (re4r!leon x gn!reader)

author's note: no proofread i work and die alone. i write and called it a day,,, hehe,,, hurrah for second entry of leon valentine's advent !!!! this is actually two parts bc the fic on the third day follows the events after this fic. <3

cw: SFW, SILLY IDIOTS IN LOVE !!!!! part 2 of ree's leon valentine's day advent.

The baby blues melt into pink hues against the watercolor bloom skies as the sun slowly sets.

Leon presses a kiss to your temple as you both hike side by side to the camp site.

"Stay close, baby. It's getting dark soon. It's my bad, we should have gotten here earlier."

You blush and shake your head, it's not like he was at fault. Leon is a man of action, ask him what needs to be done and it is done. Perhaps it's drilled into him to obey and follow orders, or that after a turbulent run as a DSO agent, he just wanted to get away. Desperately so that the minute you impulsively chatter how romantic it would be to have a camping trip, he's on his ass getting ready that same day.

"No, lovey. It was spontaneous anyway. It's kinda more romantic, yeah?"

You giggle at him, linking your arms around his thick ones as it flexes underneath your touch as he guides you to the spot.

This playfulness earns you a sigh from him. Not one out of frustration, you know him. Know how his trauma operates in the way that there is a small cork in his heart that needed a bit loosening up before he shows his tenderness, it was a sigh of fondness from him as he pulls you close.

"Of course, baby."

He'd reply with a half-smile because you're adorable. The light to his life that seeps warmth in the cold crevices of his being. There was something in your spontaneous nature. Your laidback demeanor, and playfulness that had lured him in. A breath of fresh air.

It was almost night after that small hike, and you're currently faced with your mortal enemy.

Forgetfulness and a knot. A freaking knot.

You wanted to impress Leon by offering to be the one to set up the tent as he leaves you for a little while to gather wood for the fire.

How hard could it be to set up a small two-person tent?

You ask yourself, and this was your downfall.

Upon Leon's arrival, bringing in wood for the fire, he sets the wood down to roll his neck before removing his jacket. His muscles flexing underneath the fabric of his muscle fit turtleneck and you gawk at him like a horny teenager while pretending to be busy "reading" the manual for the tent.

Leon turns to you, oblivious to the fact that you were eyeing him.

"Do you need any help, baby?"

He asks, blue eyes and the softest gaze and fuck if he isn't the prettiest man on earth.

"Psh. Who? Me? Nah, I can do it lovey. People used to ask me for help with these you know. I'm like an expert."

A bald-faced lie, and you even had the audacity to throw a boast. In your defense, you do have the experience. The faint memory of your childhood suggests you do.

"I used to be a Scout, you know."

You give him a wink as a reassurance and he chuckles, an amused smile graces his lips as he pets your head.

"Wow, I didn't know I was in the presence of a camping veteran. I'm in your care, baby."

He replies with a playful wink, matching your energy before he turns to start the fire, busying himself with lighting up the wood and setting up the camp site.

Meanwhile you stew in the fact that you're screwed, and yet instead of helping yourself, your gaze wanders to that of your boyfriend.

You've always known that Leon is dependable. He's brilliant like that even if he doesn't see it. That seriousness in his sapphire eyes, the way he moves around to check for any hazards and dangers around the camp site. He was walking all over, completely engrossed with his tasks. Setting up the portable mini gas stove on the ground. You were just… staring.

You've always known you love him, but sometimes there are moments when you look at a person and that feeling of love washes over your being, because that's him. That's your boyfriend. The only Leon in the world, there with you. In this space, breathing the same air.

Your reverie is cute short when he calls out to you.

"Baby."

"Huh?"

You respond quite taken aback and Leon quirks his eyebrows at you.

"Are you okay? I've been calling you. Is there something on my face? You seem occupied."

He asks and you clear your throat before shaking your head to try and find your voice.

"Oh no, just… nothing."

You clear your throat again, but Leon's eyes narrow at you.

"You don't know how to set up the tent, don't you?"

He asks with a playful smirk on his lips and you respond with an over-the-top gasp of horror.

"Why I never!"

You huff and turn to tug on the little poles on the tent.

"I swear I still remember how to tie my knots!"

You exclaim before Leon looks at you and just… laughs.

A laughing Leon Kennedy is a treat, because you get to see him throw his head back in laughter, his dirty blonde hair delicately framing his pretty face and from up close you could see the mole on his neck. He was always so majestic.

You blush in embarrassment, but mainly at the fact that you were absolutely whipped for your boyfriend you can't help but admire him a like a living artistic sculpture.

"Baby."

He continues after he laughs, his arms wrapping around your waist as he hugs you from behind.

"You don't even need knots for that, all you have to do is put the poles in those holes."

He grins, looking down at your pouting face before snickering and kissing your cheeks.

"Aww, is my baby upset?"

He asks, tilting his head to get a clear view of your sheepish face, now blushing and huffing at him.

"Come on my Scout, let's put this up together yeah?"

He pulls away from you to give you a boyish grin, the look in his blue eyes is enough to get you to soften as you pick up the poles, with present pout.

Leon looks at you and he melts at how adorable you are.

Perhaps this is what makes life a little more light and a little more bright. The small things like the way you pout and the way you're already red-faced at light teasing. He doesn't say a word but only grabs your chin to plant a chaste kiss on your lips.

Short and sweet as he smiles.

"I love you. Let's go on camping trips more often."

You smile at that and nod. For Leon, this is what makes life bearable. Silly moments like this and the love that you two share.

#leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy #leon kennedy x y/n #leon kennedy x you #leon s kennedy #leon scott kennedy #leon x reader #leon x y/n #leon x you #resident evil #resident evil x reader #resident evil x you #leon kennedy fluff #leon s kennedy fluff #ree valentine's day advent

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ilovemeadema · 3 months

Text

she looks so pretty (chapter one) - Alessia Russo x reader

warnings: just two awkward girlies hehe, suggestive? kinda?, if you squint lol

hiya guys!, im back (kinda??) im gonna try post more frequently, but no promises lmao

anyways hope you enjoy this first part to a lil seires im gonna be working on, enjoy!

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Come on girls!”

You hear the crowd erupt as you took the first steps at the emirates, as much as many times as you'd step out onto the incredible stadium you'd always get goosebumps at the sound of the thousands of fans cheering you on.You look around taking it all in as you stand in line with the rest of your team, you watch kim little and mary Earps shake hands and follow the line of your teammates to shake hands with the familiar manchester united players.

you watch the heads in the line pass you when you see the spiky ponytail, you look up and meet the eyes of Alessia Russo, piercing blue eyes meeting with yours for a second, you grab each other's hand and just like that, she's gone.

You'd never properly spoken to Alessia, but the 2 times you’d played against man united this season you felt her eyes on you during the game, and when you'd catch her, she would immediately look away and as soon as the whistle blew, you would try avoiding her and go straight for the changing rooms, scared that if you did end up talking to her, you'd say something stupid to embarrass yourself, so avoiding her was the next option.

You jogged over to the team circle, wrapping your arms around Beth and Kaite, Kim gave her speech and you all put your hands in the middle of the circle and lifted your arms up.

“Arsenal!”

Arsenal end up beating united 2-1, you and viv both scoring absolute worldies, you'd all gone around taking pictures and signing shirts when you feel a tap on your shoulder, you turn around and once again meet light blue eyes, you hear your heart in your ears as you snap out of it once you hear her relaxing voice.

“Nice goal before, was an amazing chip” Alessia praised you while wearing one of her pretty toothy smiles.

“Oh thank you, it was nothing really, Leah's assist set me up” you laughed rubbing your neck to hide the slight redness rising from your nervousness.

“Hmm true but that finish took skill, you cut through all our defenders” Alessia giggled playing with the hem of her shirt.

You both stayed talking a while longer when you heard Katies voice calling your name.

“y/n!, come on you slowpoke hurry yer ass over before i make ya” katie says looking between the two of you.

“Sorry, gotta get to the shower, i'd rather not get her to drag me over” you laugh.

“No worries, I'll see you at Lottes party this weekend?” Alessia asked, sounding hopeful.

“Yeah, for sure,i'll be there” you replied

“Ah nice, see you there then” Alessia smiled and waved starting to walk away

“Y-yeah, you too!” you said while she walked back to hear teammates. You turned around and slapped your forehead.

“Realy y/n?, ‘you too’?, for fucks sake” you shook your head at yourself as you walked into the changing rooms.

---------------------------

an hour later your walking with leah to the car park, since youd signed with arsenal a few months ago youd moved in with leah until you could find a place of your own, but it was nice having her around, you werent a fan of being on your own a lot, so having her to talk to is something your grateful for.

you both got in the car, leah driving and you in shotgun, as she pulled out of the parking she began talking.

"saw you and lessi talking earlier" leah said smirking

"oh shush it was nothing, just some friendly chat thats all" you rolled your eyes at her.

"mhm, for now" she said laughing.

"your so annoying did you know that?" you said jokingly

"its my hobby to pester you" she shrugged smiling, you roled your eyes and laughed with her.

"if you keep rolling your eyes they are gonna end up at the back of your head"

"Leah!"

------------------------------------

Later that day you are cooking dinner at your shared apartment with leah, some spaghetti, nice and plain for leah and you add some spices to your own since your not as picky as her, you set the two plates at the dinner table when you hear your phone ping on the kitchen counter, you walk up to it and tap on the screen, your eyes widen and your heart starts racing.

‘Alessiarusso99 started following you’

You start jumping up and down in the kitchen giggling when Leah walks in on you.

“What's gotten you so happy?” she asks, smiling with one eyebrow raised.

“Oh it's nothing’ u say pushing your phone away.

“Let me see” she reaches over your shoulder and grabs your phone and taps the screen, she looks down at it and then smirks up at you.

“B’out time one of you guys made the first move foken’ ell” she says laughing

“Oh shush we hadn't spoken until today, and plus she doesn't see me like that” you say snatching your phone off her and rolling your eyes.

“Mhm, whatever you say y/n/n” she teases, walking out of the kitchen.

—----------------------------------

Saturday comes around and you're getting ready for the party, straightening your hair in your vanity, you'd never taken so long to choose an outfit, usually you're very quick when it comes to it, but tonight you found yourself struggling to find something you liked, or more so, something she would like. Once your done you grab your phone and spray on your expensive ‘going out’ perfume and head to the front door.

“God you look like your about to throw up” leah laughed at you

“Lee, stop it, im stressin’ man” you whined as leah shook her head.

“Come on romeo let's get in the car”

Once you get to the place Lotte rented out you hear the music blasting even from outside. you feel your chest tighten and your hands get sweaty, leah then puts her hand on your shoulder.

“Hey, relax, breathe” you nod at her words and start breathing slowly.

“You're gonna be fine, just be yourself okay?” she smiles at you, you return the gesture and begin walking inside.

You and Leah make your way through the crowd and the mist, disco lights flashing in your eyes and sweaty bodies bumping into you, you then see Katie,Caitlin,Beth and Viv by the bar and walk up to them.

“Leah,y/n, you're finally here, god what took you so long” beth said slurring over her words you laughed at her and gave her a hug.

“Lessi asked about you before, she was wondering where you were” Beth giggled, wiggling her eyebrows.

“Did she?” you said, your heartbeat once again starting to increase, beth nodded at your words. You then decided you needed some alcohol in your body so you'd gain the confidence to actually talk to her.

“Leah, you want a couple shots?”

—--------------------------------------------------------

After around 20 minutes of dancing you started to feel lighter, not drunk since you wanted to remember everything tonight.

You then scanned the crowd, looking for a specific blonde through the hundreds of heads.

“Look who's finally here” you turn around at the familiar voice and smile.

“Hey, i was just looking for you actually” you said matter of factly as she smiles at you

“I've been wanting to dance with you” she said looking up and down at you

“Is that so?” you say smirking at her, liking how confident she's acting. She smiles at you and grabs your hand, pulling you into the crowd of sweaty bodies.

Alessia starts screaming as ‘mr saxobeat’ starts playing,you laugh and start dancing with her, you watch how she dances, she looks good, really good, the way the simple black dress hugs her curves is driving you crazy, the disco lights shine on her skin, making her glow, you look at her in awe.

You then step closer to her, she smiles at you and grabs your wrists, placing your hands on her waist, you pull your bodies together, moving to the beat of the music, her arms go on your shoulders, your eyes not leaving each other, she lifts her drink in the air as you both sing along to the words of ‘she knows’, your fingers start tracing shapes on her waist and you feel her slightly shiver at your touch, you smirk at her and lean into her ear.

“You like that?” you whisper

“Shut up” she giggles, you then dig your fingers deeper into her waist, her laughing stopping as she lets out a shaky breath.

“Fuck” she curses softly, you laugh through your nose and relax your fingers, rubbing your hands up and down her waist trying to calm her down.

“Don't wanna move too fast now hm?” you whisper looking into her hooded eyes.

“Hmm yeah, let's take it slow” she smirks,her eyes locked on yours as she slots her leg between both of yours, putting slight pressure on your core, you let out a low groan.

“Oh fuck you” you laugh as she removes her leg. She giggles and creates some space between both of you.

“Let's go find lotte” Alessia suggests, you nod agreeing and let her hold your wrist, pulling you through the crowd.

It's gonna be a long night.

-------------------------------------

a/n:

soso sorry for the lack of fics, ive been quite busy and tbh ive had 0 motivation, please feel free to drop some requests ( i rly need some lol) or just any random questions :)

part 2 coming soon! xx

#woso community #womens football #lionesses #arsenal wfc #wsl #alessia russo #alessia russo x reader

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harrysmimi · 1 year

Text

Whiskey

Synopsis: One where Harry falls for someone but he's married

Ps. This one also has an open ending I can write a part two if I get enough requests or responses on this. And idky I named this Whiskey honestly. Hehe.

Wordcount: 13k+

Part 2

More of my work | Read on Wattpad

CW: Mentions of alcohol, absent parents.

......................................................................

Harry had everything!

He owned a multi million dollar company, several smaller businesses. He had lavish manshion, fancy cars and he wore nothing but Gucci.

In his case it seemed to be true; Money can't buy happiness.

He dreaded to go home every evening after work. Truly!

So everyday after he gets off of his meetings and daily check-ins. We made an habit of asking his driver to take him to this pub in the town.

The first time he was there, he found the vibes to be immaculate. Everyone minding their own business, a corner with huddled up by a table having little quizzes, old people hanging out just by themselves or in groups, the bar was mostly empty. Even if it was full, it wasn't suffocating like his fifteen-million dollar mantion was starting to feel to him. A perfect Saturday night.

"Hello, can I please get a whiskey?" He asked the barkeep. It was a girl. She looked up at him confused as if he said something alien to her, spared a glance tothe other bartender. But proceeded to get him his drink with trembling hands, with a coaster placed on the bar she placed his drink on top of it. That's when he noticed she poured a little too much in his glass. With a hesitant smile she got back to her work.

He saw that she had a wipe cloth in her hard, and there was just one other barkeep serving four other people. She wiped around the counter and picked up the empty glassware.

"You don't barkeep that often?" Harry asked, not minding the extra ounce of alcohol he got served. The girl looked at him through her glasses perched up on the bridge of her nose.

It was evident on her face she didn't like working there, but she shook her head in no. Most bartenders would love to have conversations.

"I just help cleaning around." She shrugged.

Harry swore he saw the softest smile on her face there as she threw the cleaning cloth on her shoulder, and went on to get pick up the glasses which were newly abandoned now.

Harry sat there sipping on his drink until she returned. Hearing her voice, he wanted to have a conversation with her, about what, he didn't know.

He downed his Whiskey in one go when he saw come back out, it burnt his throat but it was good kinda burn. He shook his head, letting lit a soft groan of a sigh. He wanted to feel that burn so bad!

"Can I have another, please?" He asked the girl, again.

She glanced over at the barkeep again, sighing she pull out away before she pulled out a clean one to pour another glass of whiskey from him. This time a little less.

"Follow the two finger rule." He told her. She glanced at him confused so, he gestured it to her setting two of his fingers horizontally against his empty glass. She tried to mimick him but Harry noticed how small her hands are in compare to his, but she was smart enough to pick up on it and take the ridges on the glass into consideration when she poured just enough this time and replaced his empty glass on the same coaster.

"Thank you for the help." She said, "I don't make the drink here, so I just didn't know. Please don't tell the owner about this."

"It's alright, love." Harry assured her, "I am Harry by the way."

"YN." She smiled.

Actually smiled at him!

A tiny smile. But it was something at least.

She had to get back to work as she could see her boss glaring daggers at her. But soon enough he asked for another glass lf Whiskey. And watch concern take over her pretty eyes.

"You recently started working here?" He asked, not to be creepy but he just didn't know how to start a conversation with her.

"No, I've been working here for four years." She shared, wiping down the counter in front of ber for the millionth time.

"Strange, and you don't know how to pour a Whiskey?"

"Like, I said, I don't make drinks here. We have Sam for that." She spared the Barkeep a glance who was now mixing an intricate drink which was entertaining enough for the drunk customers. "I don't want to bother him because he's been having a bad day today."

Harry could understand. The man putting up a smile on his face for sure. A completely different scenario than his own but he could relate.

"I see." He sounded.

"Mhmm." She nodded.

Harry handed her his card as he was done for the night. Not wanting to get drunk his ass off and have to deal with a headache and a lecture the next day from his wife. YN returned with his card and his bill. He placed his card back in his wallet just as he was about to slip it back in his pocket, he opened it back up and grabbed all the cash he had, six bills of hundred pounds, he placed it on the bill before he grabbed his phone and ready to leave.

"Harry!" He heard a call of his name, "I, uhh, I think you left this." He turned to look at the girl.

"No, that's for you. A tip." He explained, running a finger under his nose subconsciously.

"This is a lot. I am afraid I can't take it." Her voice was very low and he was stood just an arm's distance from her.

"That's okay, I won't tell anyone." A cheeky smirk took over his features, "have a nice rest of the night, YN. And keep it, please." He shot a little wave before he made his way out feeling the alcohol kicking in. That'll help him sleep.

......................................................................

On the Tuesday night, he figured that the girl he saw on the weekend at the pub only worked on weekends. It was a bummer. But that didn't stopped him from ordering his usual.

"Harry, what the fuck is going on with you?" He heard his wife the first thing when he stepped a foot inside.

"Aella, not now." He sighed making his way upstairs.

"No, you've been coming home late. Now apparently you've been drinking. What the fuck is going on? You don't even want to help me around anymore." Aella hissed at him.

That wasn't true. He does help her around still. She never does one thing for him except cook, he doesn't expect her to do anything either. He does his own laundry, makes his own breakfast because she likes to sleep in, he cleans up after him like a grown human he is, he never once asked her to do anything for him.

Why was he so frustrated you may ask?

It's been more than a year now feeling distanced from his partner of ten years. Aella have been nothing but emotionally abusive to him. Ever since his business had taken off from past year and half, it also meant his work load being doubled up.

He's got about twenty thousand people working for his company doesn't mean it takes away all the responsibilities he's got towards his firm. He takes his work seriously. Though he doesn't mind helping around with chores, he lives there of course he does his part and even more at times. Just this morning he had her yelling right in his ear how she haven't been able to go shopping because he has been spending more time at the office to help her do the house chores, so she can have nice time and go out shopping with her friends.

The love they had when they were eighteen, in college, back when he had nothing but debt to his name. Now she sees him as a some credit card and a house maid, she runs away from spending time with him. Hell, he can't even remember the last time they had a meal together and talked about anything but his works or her shopping around. He can't even remember the last they made love. She doesn't talk to him unless she wants to borrow the credit card or when she needs him do certain chore in the house. It was these stupid little things which could be solved easily if she had the patience to talk it through.

He just keeps it to himself now, and does whatever he has to do so she isn't bickering around him. She doesn't want to hire people to help around when they can clearly afford. He wants peace when he's back home.

Right now making his way straight to the guest bedroom seemed rhe best option to him which have become his new bedroom. "We'll talk tomorrow." He mumbled.

......................................................................

It was Saturday and he didn't even noticed. Luckily he was able to get off work early as his assistant did most of his work voluntarily because he wanted a raise. Harry asked him to talk to the manager about it today.

He was going to go see his sister at the mall. She was there to pick up her shoes for her wedding and get her gown fitted for first time. Being her Man of Honour, it was something he was really taking interest into. His older sister was getting married to the love of her life!

That's probably the only thing in his life keeping him sane right now. Watching his sister so happily get married.

Just as he was passing the Nike store, he swore he saw the girl from the Pub from last weekend with a little ten year old boy. She was bullying him one moment and then pressing a kiss on his head. That reminded him of how Gemma still treats him, even though he's now pushing his thirties.

"Gem!" He beamed finally seeing his sister. "Oh, I missed you so much!" He pulled her in a bear hug.

"Oh, I missed you too!" She cooed. "You're gonna break my ribs!" He chuckled, pulling away finally. "How have you been?"

"Ms. Styles, the fitting room is ready for you." A lady approached them there.

"Oh yeah, thank you so much." Gemma beamed, "I'll go put on the dress."

"Of course, of course!" Harry urged her to go after the lady. He took a seat on the sofa, all he knew was this time Gemma was alone as their mum was busy with work. Anne has been helping out Gemma alot recently now that Harry has a shit load of work put on him. He patiently waited for his sister, watching other people get their dresses around the store. Happy tears and excited squeals were to be heard all over the floor.

His sister finally walked out of the fitting room with her finished up dress. It was exactly like the sketch she had shown him a few weeks ago. A fluffy Aline skirt with a bodice with sweetheart neckline. Her hair tied up in a low bun with the veil pinned in. He stood up from his place.

Now that made everything all the more legit to him.

He clearly remembers how he was accusing for being a drug dealer at eight for something she did to piss him off as if it was just yesterday, now she's all dressed up to be married. Yes, she's the older one but he's still brother. He's always seen her like a princess and his mum a a queen growing up.

"Awh, Harry!" Gemma cooed watching him get all teary eyed. She walked to him to hug him.

"You look so gorgeous!" He mumbled to her. Gemma pulled away to take a look at him, she just chuckled watching a tear make it's way down his cheek. She wiped it off cupping his face before hugging again. He hugged her back, rubbing her back twice, letting her go so she can do what they're here for.

During the appointment, he gave his own little insights what should be added more to the dress, whilst Gemma gave in her own about the fit of dress to her comfort.

Later that afternoon he was dragging her with him to a Tiffany store. She haven't picked out jewellery to go with her dress, and he had exactly piece in his mind from the last time he was there with his wife. It was simple diamond necklace made in platinum, a pair of diomond studs to go it.

"Harry you really don't have to." Gemma told him.

"Please, I want to." He made a puppy face, "it's a wedding present to my big sister."

"It's too expensive."

"But you're too precious to me, please lemme do you lemme do this" He insisted. "You can for something else too if you'd like."

"No, this is perfect." She rushed before he was going around looking for something else for her to choose from, probably something more expensive. "Thank you, Harry. You're the best brother anyone could ask for!"

"I love you, Gem, that's all." He chuckled.

"I love you too!" She said firmly.

On her way out, she was back to bullying him as they walked to the restaurant near by for early dinner. The day out with his sister was well spend. Much more happier than his time at home.

Though he haven't shared anything with Gemma about bis failing marriage, she did picked on his low mood. In the fleeting moments, she caught her baby brother lost somewhere or just having his shoulders slumped. He'd pull himself right up when he'd see her noticing him.

He dropped her back to her flat before he was asking his driver to take him to the pub. On the way he made a few calls to appoint a a few helpers at home, making sure they are being offered a fair salary. They already had a cook, because he doesn't have the time to make food and Aella doesn't seem to be interested in cooking or stepping a foot in kitchen unless it's to get something to eat.

He doesn't blame her, he finds cooking a bit exhausting too.

Rich people problems, he taunted himself.

Just when he stepped into the Pub, his eyes caught the sight of the girl. Taking a tray of beer glasses to the table where they held quizzes and little competitions, but today everyone was watching the Euro. He noticed she was dressed in all black, a pair of black baggy jeans, an oversized sweatshirt, but her shoes were white. Or supposed to be white with how beaten up they looked. Her long hair pulled up in a ponytail on the back of her head, and a pair of glasses he'd seen her wear the last time.

He had to keep his feelings in check as he's caught a bit of infatuation with this girl. He's married. Even though he might not be happy in his relationship in the moment, that doesn't mean he shouldn't even be looking at other people. There is nothing that sitting down with his wife and talk it all out wouldn't fix anything, he just needs to be in right state of mind to initiate the conversation.

He went to sit on his usual spot. There were hardly any people around there, everyone huddled up near the projector screen watching the match. Even the barkeep was paying attention to the game. Everyone was interested in the game apart from YN and him obviously.

"Hello," she smiled politely at him. Doing her job.

"Hello." He kep his phone face down on the bar in front of him. "I'll have the same, Whiskey please."

"Alright." She nodded and got him the drink, sticking to the little tip he gave her to pour the rught amount of whiskey in the glass and placed it right in front of him. Immediately got back to her work, taking in more glasses of alcohol to go serve the people sat in the crowd. When she got back, she stopped right by him.

"Oh, hey Harry, I just wanted to thank you for last week for the tip." She started, "my little brother got selected in his Cricket team at school so he needed new sport shoes which are very expensive. Thank you so much for tipping, even though I was being hesitant to take it. I wouldn't be able to buy him a pair otherwise."

Now that warmed his heart, the cash went to a very good use. "Aw, it's alright, love. I'm happy fo hear that."

She just smiled at him again and got back to her work. Never looked back, unless he needed another drink.

Now all she did was thank him for helping her unknowingly. He ate or drank outside rarely (though it's becoming a norm for him to visit this pub now a days), everytime he made sure to leave a generous tip for the people doing their job.

He had the same job at one time, and he knew how rude some self entitled people can get. He's managed to stay that grounded with his success.

She still had his heart fluttering in his chest as he watched her go about her evening. Working herself to exhaustion.

He couldn't but notice the way she just kept going, around drunk people. Her dark hair pulled up in a bun held up on the back of her hair with a green claw clasp, little pieces of hair falling onto her face.

"How old is he?" He spoke, initiating the conversation.

"Hmm?" YN looked at him as she was too busy putting back the clean glasses on the shelves. "Oh, he's twelve." The smile on her pushed her cheeks up, making her pretty eyes grow smaller.

"You aren't watching the game?"

"I am more into Cricket, actually." She shared, "I don't quite understand football. Don't you wanna watch it?"

"Oh no, I'm here for just a little bit then I'll be heading home." He rushed.

Honestly, he did enjoyed watching football because his wife did. They were friends throughout the highschool, and she played in the girls football team. One of the many reasons why he fell for her in the first place. Luckily they got into same college and started dating, got married after graduation and now there they are. He's sat in a pub downing his third Whiskey for the night, and she is god knows where.

Aella wasn't home when he left for work. He hasn't heard from her since.

He had two more tonight, before he was heading home. Leaving another big tip for YN.

......................................................................

It was a Monday morning, which meant chaos in YN's household.

Being the eldest of five siblings, she is always crushed by her little brothers and sister.

They all lived in a two bedroom flat, clearly not enough room for family of eight. Though, her parents were the most calmest, her dad passed out drunk his ass off on the sofa in the living room, she's in kitchen making breakfast for everyone.

YN was was just moving around the house, getting ready to leave for work whilst her siblings ate their breakfast, when she almost tripped over her dad passed out fast asleep on the rug in living room.

"Adi, who gave him money to go out drink last night?" She asked, as it reeked on alcohol that early in the morning in the living room, obviously she looked at the second eldest.

"Don't look at me like that, I haven't even seen him in five days!" Adi raised his hands up.

"Maa, did you?" She walked in the kitchen to watch her mum just doing ber work, acting nonchalant. That made her loose her mind there. "Haven't I told you clearly, not to give him any cash?" She asked.

"Maa, fucking answer me!" She raised her voice. "I work my ass off just for you to go on and feed to his addiction, huh? I can't fucking believe you!"

"Watch your language, you're talking to your mum!" Her mum raised her voice even louder.

"Don't tell me to watch my language, when you can't watch your actions." She pointed out the very obvious, the bulging stomach of her mum. "Just for your fun of few minutes you're ruining our lives here, you can't watch that?"

"YN, please it's eight in the morning." Adi spoke.

"Shut the fuck up and eat your breakfast!" She scolded the boy, "if I see either you give even a pound to either her, or him, you'll be grounded for good. Do you hear me?"

"Yes!" The boy nodded.

What was the reason behind her sudden outburst, you may wonder?

It was because, she works three jobs to look after brothers and sister, when their parents can't clearly do that. Her dad's an alcoholic and her mum doesn't simply cares. It's a rare thing that she's even up in the morning stepping a foot in the kitchen for any other reason than to eat.

Yes, that's not the only job of a mother to do. But she doesn't have an actual job, she doesn't help around the house, or have she ever helped around with the kids.

It is her who pays all the bills, pays the rent, pays for groceries, and even kids' school fees. Her little brothers could help just so much working part time, the eldest of the boys are eighteen and sixteen. The youngest born being three, and another sibling on the way.

Yeah, it was fucked up. Quite literally!

Somehow she had just managed to get her degree, on wil full scholarship, and it was just her and three of her brothers (which out of two also had full scholarship paying for their school fees) when her parents shared the new of a new baby. Well, that wasn't a problem until their mother started to neglect them either. YN has had it enough when they welcomed the youngest, a girl three years ago.

Apart from working a desk job from Monday to Friday, doing all ghe over time shifts to the point her boss has to force her to take days off so she doesn't sue the firm in future, to working odd jobs on weekends just so she can eat with her brothers and little sister. It was atrocious how their parents treated them, for her to work herself to exhaustion just for her mum to go on give her dad money to go out and get drunk his ass off. She trusted her mother, really did, that is she doesn't want to get a job or even help around the house that much, at least she can go get groceries.

"Come on now, if you all done with your breakfast." YN looked down grabbing her bag to leave for work, she walks her siblings to school everyday.

"YN, you know I'm doing my best to help you right?" Adi spoke walking along his big sister's side as the other kids walked ahead.

"I know, but I want you to focus on your studies first." YN shared. He's a clever boy, and loves to study. "Thank you for helping around though. I really appreciate that!"

He chuckled, "your welcome!"

"Now come on, best of luck for your test."

"How do you know that?" He stood there in surprise at the gate of his school. YN just shrugged.

"Bye, see you tonight. Please take the kids straight home."

"I will, I will." With a salute to his sister he walked back in.

YN made her way to her office taking a train. I was a small firm where she got to do her intership. She hoped to work an extra intership and study further just so she can get her dream and not be stuck being an accountant. No doubt she likes her job, it's a teeny bit enjoyable too, but it doesn't pay her enough to take care of the family she was born in. That makes her hate her job in this firm.

She needed an extended intership to apply at her dream company, Styles and Co., one of her favourite textile and fashion company in the city. The firm was very particular about hiring new people into their work family. The post she wanted to apply for paid so well. But she was stuck to get a proper job which paid her to survive.

It was like salt on her wounds seeing the building stand tall on her way to work everyday there. She glanced at the building, with the company name written in big, bold letters in gold on the building. Sighing she fixed her gaze on the ground as she walked two buildings down, but she bumped into someone.

"Oh!" She gasped, a steady hand on her arm prevented her from falling straight on her ass in the middle of the pavement.

"You alright?" She heard a deep voice.

"Yeah." She nodded finally looking up at the man dressed in a baby pink suit. To her surprise it was was the man from the bar where she worked on weekends. "Oh hi."

"Hello love, good morning." He beamed as dimples dented deep in his cheeks. "How come you're here?"

"Oh, I work two buildings down." She said.

"At the Darwin's, that Finance company?" He asked, surprised and confused. "Thought you worked at the pub?"

"I do, on weekends." She smiled, now getting awkward as he was trying to get to know her work life, "you work here?" She pointed at the building she can only dream to work at.

Harry looked at her trying to hold back his smile, "yeah. I do work here." He didn't wanted to tell her that that was his firm.

"Oh, nice." She nodded, feeling the jealousy build up in her chest all of a sudden. No wonder how he was so well dressed all the time, and leave her huge tips at the pub. She wanted to work there too! "Anyway, I'm getting late for work."

"Yeah, see you around." He said, watching her throw a petite wave at him as she started walking down the street to her work place.

Her heart was thumping against her chest as if it was about burst out of it's cage anytime soon. She could feel the lingering touch of his hand on her bicep still, she didn't know he was holding to keep her steady. It would be a lie to not say that YN's caught on a tiny little crush on this man who she'd met all for five times with brief interactions.

He's extremely polite and a complete gentleman. And also he's so darn pretty. Eyes green as a spring garden, skin as soft looking as a peacock feather, smile as bright as a ray of first morning sunshine. His aura was nothing but pretty pink and golden shades to her. As if he's human form of a golden retriever. Or maybe that's her mind putting together his image as a person in her imagination.

She haven't slept thinking about him late at night.

Yeah, she's fucked. She doesn't know shit about him and she's going crazy like a teenager for someone she saw at the place of weekend job. Or maybe she's just too lonely that it's her subconscious trying to help her with her loneliness. Shaking her head she got to work, longing into her work system.

"Hey YN." She heard Tom, her co-worker who was also her classmate in uni, who annoying worked in the cubical next to hers.

"Hi." She mumbled.

"How is your day going so far?" Tom asked.

"Good, yeah it is good." She nodded, frustratingly.

"Good to know." He nodded, taking a moment before he spoke again. But YN got a call from the manager asking her to go see him.

Tom never bothered YN for the rest of the day. It was after break that YN felt her frustration and anger melting down.

"You know he likes you." Jamila, the girl who sat on the other side of YN spoke, taking full advantage of Tom still being on his linch break.

"Who?" YN stopped her work to look at the curly haired girl next to her.

She leaned back on her chair, "Tom. He likes you and has been trying to ask you out."

"What? Did he tell you that?"

"Yeah, he did. Remember the last time you were being kicked out to take a vacation?" Jamila reminded her.

"Thay was like a year ago." YN added.

"Yeah!" The girl exclaimed, "he's in love with you! But you keep pushing away the poor boy away!"

"Boy? He's a thirty year old man." YN scoffed jokingly.

"And you're twenty-seven. What does it matter? He's an amazing guy." She pressed. It was true. Tom is truly an amazing guy. He's polite, caring and understanding. He certainly doesn't take no shit from their manager like others. He listened to YN sob once when her boyfriend broke up with her, because she didn't had time for him. He does all the bare minimum.

"I think you should put an halt to taking care of the kids who aren't really your responsibility, and give time to yourself." Jamila spoke, "it's time for your mum to be a grandma and she's popping out another kid when she can't take care of the six she already got. That's not fair for you."

"I don't want to talk about that now, Jamila." YN sighed getting back to her work, "those kids are my siblings, I love them."

Jamila didn't wanted to ruin her mood already, so she stopped there.

"Coffee for the ladies!" Tom announced as he placed a cup of coffee each on his colleagues' table, he placed a sandwich he got from the canteen downstairs on YN's. That's when she realised she haven't gotten up from her chair for her break.

"Thanks." She acknowledged the sweet gesture.

"No problem." He smiled and got back to his work.

On the other hand, Harry was surprised to see Aella at his office for the fifth time from last week. He saw from the little window which gave him clear view of the management floor talking to his PA. It gave him hope, that she's there to see him. Talk to him. Maybe they could go out to get lunch, but instead she dropped the lunch on the PA's desk and walked off to where he doesn't know.

His heart sunk to his stomach as he felt a headache burning behind his eyes. He heard a knock on his door which got him sniffling as he looking up. "Come in, please."

"Sir, Mrs. Styles left lunch for you." Mike said.

"Oh, yes please leave it on the table." Harry smiled, "thank you."

"Sure sir." Mike placed the paper bag on the coffee table in his cabin and left.

It was an hour later when he got a notification five thousand pounds being debited from the joint account he had with his wife. It was ridiculous how she spent money like there's no tomorrow. But if he says anything she's going to make a huge fuss about it. So he just went on with his day.

He couldn't take it. He called his assistant to tell him that he's leaving early today. And he did. He was going straight home.

Harry really wants to work this out with his wife. Getting a divorce felt so wrong to him, especially thinking back at how miserable his own parents were. But he's miserable staying in this marriage.

Just as he was waiting for the lift, placing an order for flowers to pick up on the way home on his phone he saw Aella was still there. She was leaving his Financial Advisor's office there.

"Aella?" He said, catching her like a deer in headlights. "What are you doing here?" It was inevitable to deny that his heart beat picked up a pace in his chest with a racing mind his skull.

"Harry, I, uhhh, I was just saying Hi to Richard." She stuttered with a smile on her face. "You, ehm, you want to go home now?"

As if the universe was coming to rescue her the lift door opened with a ding. Harry followed her in. He doesn't want to make a commotion in his office. He was going to wait until in the comfort of their house to even say a word.

......................................................................

"Kids!" YN announced when she got back home with a cake and a few balloons. "Come on, come on!" It was the little Zara's birthday.

The sleepy four year old was having a hard time staying up, on the sofa as their dinner was served close to midnight. It broke YN's heart to see the kids have their dinner this late. She wished he had extra hours in day for this. Their parents already starting to argue like everyday, today the topic was Mac and cheese for dinner.

But she urged the kids to one of the bedrooms so they can celebrate without seeing their parents arguing. She doesn't want the little girl's birthday to be ruined.

Zara was the youngest amd all four of her brothers are very protective of her so if YN. She's spoilt with so much love from her siblings there.

"Happy birthday to you." Every sang little Zara the birthday song as Adi lit the candles on the cake. "Happy birthday dear tiny little Zozo, happy birthday to you!"

"Yay!" YN cheered.

"Blow on the candles." Adi suggested. The little girl could do so much, so YN blew on the candle herself.

"How old are you?" YN asked.

"Four!" Zara held out five fingers instead making her siblings laugh.

"Silly, that's five." The second youngest, Sid giggled pointing out the obvious.

"That's okay." YN cooed, "come on let's eat the cake now!"

The kids went absolutely ham on the cake after eating the shitty mac and cheese their mum made. It was gone and gone. Zara was a mess with chocolate all over tiny hands and chubby cheeks. YN had her cleaned up and changed into clean clothes before she put her off to bed.

"Come on, boys off to bed you go." She announced. "Uh, before you go to bed, throw you laundry in the machine."

"Yes!" Samar, the third youngest said as he walked out with Sid.

"YN, did you got paid today?" Veer, the second oldest of the boys said.

"No, I went to help my friend at her shop after work. I'll get paid by tomorrow, why?"

"No, I just asked." He shrugged.

"What's wrong?" YN stopped him.

"We haven't paid for internet in past two months, I need to do my projects. Doesn't mean I got selected in the cricket team I don't have to do the projects." He shared, "Adi doesn't even let me use the laptop, and the computers at school suck!"

"Why doesn't he let you use the laptop?" She walked her to the boys' room which they all shared, "Adi, why don't you let him use the laptop for the projects?"

"He never asked me!" Adi defended himself. And the boys started arguing. It took YN a good half an hour to resolve the fight being a median when things escalated.

"I'll pay for the Wifi tomorrow after I get, no more fighting now. Go to bed." YN warned the boys before she walked out closing the door behind her. She put the laundry the machine and started it so it is all done by the morning, before she went to bed herself. It was their daily shenanigans, fighting and arguing with one another for something or other.

......................................................................

"Why were in Richard's office, Aella?" Harry asked.

"I told you, I was saying hi to him."

"Yeah? It took you three hours to say hi to him?" He could feel his heart thumping in his ears at this point. "Admit it Aella, there is no running away from this."

"Admit it god damn it!" He yelled when she said nothing. "Why?"

"What do you mean?"

"What do I mean? Why? Why would you go on and cheat!" He felt his eyes tearing up, "I have been trying my best to make this right, every time I come to talk to you. You just scoot away! Why?"

"I am so sorry, Harry." She looked down at her feet, "I am so sorry, you just haven't been there for lately."

"So you go on and cheat instead of talking this through with me?" He broke down, plopped down on the breakfast bar chair.

"You have been busy lately you don't even look at me!" She cried, "I couldn't take it. I am sorry that was so stupid of me."

"How long?" He asked, holding back tears. "How long have this been going on?" But she didn't say a word to him, "fine. Just leave me alone."

"Harry, please." Aella grabbed onto his hand, so tight it was sure going to redden his skin, "please! I am so sorry. Please, please, please let's just talk this through. I can't. I am sorry."

"Just leave me alone, Aella. Just..." He pulled his wrist out of her grip carefully before he walked back to his (guest) bedroom.

......................................................................

These past few months has been nothing but shit. He found out his wife has been cheating on him. With his Financial Advisor, Richard from past one year. It has been going on for a year. Richard was fired to say the least.

It has been a lot for him, mentally and emotionally.

It wasn't in him to even look at the woman he love and adore since he was eighteen. Twelve years she threw under the bus like it was no one's business. But he found himself going to therapy with her. Today was their fourth session and he just can't even get through it with her sat next to him. Harry doesn't even know how Aella convinced him to go to couple's therapy, or where he got the energy to put with the four sessions along her side.

She was back at it again. Taunting him for busy with work, not helping her around, not allowing her to use the credit cards for her shopping anymore was the new one, along with him asking her to look for a job now. He hadn't spoken a word about her choice on being a housewife, it was her choice and he was very willing to take care of her when they got married. It was what they agreed upon. But her spending have been going way out of hand for Harry to even fathom how she could be spending thousands and thousands of pounds on things she doesn't even use. Even once. She needed a bit of humbling, that's what their therapist suggested.

It wasn't something knew but happening since they got married and it had started to bother him now. He tried his best to express what he was feeling and yet have her lash out on him for not respecting her own life decisions. Even going as far as to reminding him the vows he said to her.

It was yet another weekend when Harry found himself walking in the pub again.

"Can I have one old fashioned please?" Harry asked the bar keep who was surprising working on the side he usually sits today. He saw YN walking around picking up empty glasses of liquor around the pub and bringing them back to clean them up and put them back, that's what he's seen her do all the time here.

"Hi, Harry!" She greeted him once she noticed him sitting there, continuing her work.

"Hello," he found himself smiling back at her. She was wearing the same black jeans and a different black hoodie this time. It has started to get cold he'd noticed. The same pair of glasses perched up on the bridge of her nose. He noticed the new pink tint on her cheeks and lips, the length to her eye lashes behind her glasses- maybe she's wearing a new mascara!

"How was your day?" Yeah, that question was coming from him. He was making up the conversation again.

"It was pretty shit." She shrugged, wiping the glasses and putting them away one by one, "my manager at my desk job basically confiscated my work phone and laptop so I take the yearly paid vacation."

"Why would that be a shit day?" He was surprised, "you should happy about it."

"Not when you-" she paused not wanting to tell her life struggles to this man she has met only handful of times, "when you need the job so bad."

"Doesn't your job pay you well?" He took a big gulp of his drink and she just shrugged.

She wasn't to stand there and tell him most of it goes to paying, rent and bill and paying up for her second youngest brother's school fees. That she needs to work those extra jobs to really be able to get groceries and things which are required without any announcement or signs. Like new shoes for the kids, new clothes, new books, new stationary, a new bag pack and what not! Plus the yearly school fees for the kids who don't yet have scholarships.

"I see." He finished up his drink.

YN cringed at watching people drink around her when she despise her own father for doing the same. Why wouldn't she, this thing has torn her family apart to shreds. She hated to work here but it paid more than half of what her desk job pays her monthly.

Her father was fired from his job when her oldest (little) brother was born, because he would sneak alcohol in his water bottles. Her mother never worked, but she stopped caring once it was all too much for her. But one constant thing is that they keep having kids. Which is annoying. Very fucking annoying.

"How was your day?" She asked.

She wanted to keep up with the conversation!

"It was pretty shit for me too." He shrugged. Because it was true. He'd just walked out of the therapy session with his cheating wife.

"Did your boss force your to take days off too so you wouldn't sue their firm?" She smirked a cheeky little smile, "or did they force you to come to office?"

He chuckled, "the former."

Liar!

"Awh! I understand that." She cooed, "I hope you enjoy your paid vacation!"

"I hope so too." He nodded and ordered himself another drink.

"Mhmm!" She affirmed, "are you planning to go anywhere?"

And they talked about his imaginary and impromptu vacation to the Bahamas, and what he would like to do there. He just wasn't going to break her bubble there. She thinks he's just guy who works a very well paying job at one and not an actual CEO and owner of a multi-million dollar firm.

It was grounding but he also like how she found him and his talk interesting enough to care. Even about his fake plans there.

She didn't lash out on him at any point. She listened to him. Gave her own little views. Like how he should try all the coconut drinks and goodies and the local food at his trip to Bahamas which he's planning on to cancelling the very next weekend he sees her. Until she told him she would be continuing to work at the pub for the rest of ber two weeks off.

He forgot his second old fashioned he ordered as it was there. Especially when she started talking about his firm and how she wanted to work there but their skill requirements are something which will take her another life to acquire, having no idea she was talking to the CEO.

It was way better than going to couple's therapy.

Though he thinks he needs therapy. But the solo ones.

He made sure to leave her and the bar keep separate tips, being biased on her even though she didn't serve him anything tonight.

"You can't keep giving me big tips, Harry." She said, holding the money in her shaky hands, "I'd feel too bad to keep it every time."

"Please, it might help plan yourself a little trip to somewhere." He suggested.

Yeah, probably up till the grocery store...?

But she didn't wanted to argue with that so she went on with her work after he finally left. She'd spent her entire shift there. It was one in the morning, she needed to head home. So she clocked out and started making her little (very long) treck to the train station.

It wasn't until she sensed a car coming to an halt where she just passed and someone walking behind her closely. She pulled out her pepper spray from the water bottle compartment and had her fist ready.

"YN, don't punch me!" She heard the voice which was talking her ears off not even ten minutes ago.

"Oh my god!" She let out a gasp of relief. Sort of. If it weren't of him holding onto her hands she would have been lying on the ground, passed out.

She only knew his first name for god's sake!

"You alright?" He asked.

"Mhmm. I was just walking home. What are you doing here?"

"I was heading home too when I saw you walking down the pavement alone this late." He explained, "you want me to drop you off?" He saw someone following her close by there.

"No, it's okay." She smiled hesitantly.

"Oh, I'm sorry. We've met handful of times, I shouldn't have said it like that." He cleared his throat, "but I promise you can trust me." He looked glanced behind him as he could hear foot steps coming their way.

"It's okay, Harry, I am gonna take the train." It wasn't assuring enough for him.

Just as Harry was about to tell her he saw someone following her at a distance, that guy got close by, snatching her bag he ran away. Every happened in the blur but she saw the little blade in the hand of that person.

"No, wait!" She called Harry as he was about to take off after the guy, "He's got a knife with him."

"Don't you have your valuables in the bag?" He asked but grabbed her hand to drag her near his car with him just to be safe.

"No, I have my wallet in my pocket here. Just an extra jacket in the bag." She shared, "it's okay. Thank you though. At least have my pepper spray with me, it was very expensive."

"How did you see he's got a knife with him?"

"I've got four eyes on, Harry." She grinned making him chuckle. "Anyway, I'll head home now."

"YN, please. Someone just stole from you." He insisted, "lemme call a cab for you, yeah?"

"Harry it's fine." She reassured him. "I will manage."

"You sure?" He doesn't want to push her.

"Yes, I am very sure."

"Okay." He nodded.

......................................................................

The very next night, Harry went to the pub again. He needed to because he went to another therapy session with Aella today, he hated himself that much more for going through that instead of saying no.

It was crowded and YN was busy most of the time. But he got to talk to her, a little bit, but she asked him about his vacation. Which he "cancelled" the moment he planned it.

That went on for a week. And they became really good friends in no time. His growing crush on her was inevitable to stop, especially when he couldn't stop flirting with her. Especially when she sometimes flirt back.

"Like, come on Harry! You've got a wife at home!" He scolded himself, especially when he never once mentioned that he's married. He just couldn't bring himself up to do that.

But he started walking her down to the tube station, he still haven't got her number. He just can't bring himself to ask for it, he still carried the guilt of talking to another woman whilst he's still married. He wasn't going to do the same to Aella. That's just not him.

They're not in pre-school anymore to play tit for tat.

He's stuck though. He doesn't know how to approach it but he can't be with Aella or anyone for the matter of fact when he's that broken. His new budding feelings were just adding upto his confusion that much more.

Aella has been cheating on him for over a year. Maybe is it was a one time thing, he might have thought about giving her and those therapy sessions time. The therapist was going a shit job as well. He couldn't fathom how she lived under same roof as him when she was sleeping with someone else this whole while without any guilt. He no longer felt the love and warmth with her and from her that he used to, god knows how long ago. And here he was feeling guilty to even talk to YN, even if that meant as a friend.

Tonight, he still walked her to the tube station. She asked him about his mum and sister, that's all they talked about. He's yet to tell her that he's the owner of the firm she was admiring that day when she bumped into him. She's yet to tell him about her own family, though she hardly ever talks about herself. She was scared of scaring him off like she scared off her ex-boyfriend.

All he knew was she was the oldest of her siblings. That's all he knew.

Harry has got many, many, many more questions to ask to her to get to know her well.

"How were you so chill about your bag being stolen the other day?" He brought up a new topic to speak on as they were walking in complete silence. She just shrugged.

There was nothing in her bag really that day, just an old jacket that got stolen. It was better to loose the bag and that piece of clothing than have anyone go after a person with a sharp object. Plus that wasn't the worse thing happened to her. Was she upset? Yes, that was her favourite jacket. But at least no one got hurt, at least her pepper spray wasn't stolen and she didn't throw a punch at Harry.

YN walked beside him in a straight but she found him scooting closer and closer until his arm brushed against her. He hasn't had a drink today, he did asked for one but it just sat in front of him as he chatted away with her.

He has been wanting to hold her hand but her hands were stuffed in pockets of her coat. It was very cold.

"Well, I guess I'll see you tomorrow?" He asked once he'd made sure she'd get in safe in the train.

"I'd say no." She said. "It's none of my business to have a say, but I think we're friends, so as a friend I'd say it's really not good for your health to drink everyday, Harry."

She wouldn't say that to anyone because, well, she was getting good tips and she needed those badly but, she's grown to like Harry quite a bit. Her infatuation on him have grown quite a bit as well. He's a great person afterall! Him talking about his mum and sister is just enough to tell how he treats them. He has been respectful towards her even when he's flirting with her sometimes.

Plus he's very good looking. That's an added bonus.

"Can I kiss you?"

Oh fuck no!

That got her heart pumping as it jumped in her ear, making her tummy do back flips. He stood towering in front of her, way too close that she could feel his aura. Him smirking made her realise she was chewing on her lip as she nodded, muttering a quiet yes.

Of course she said yes!

Harry didn't needed much more talking or convincing, as he reached up cradle her face in his palm. But she stopped him, stepping back. Her fingers lightly wrapped around his anchor tattoo.

"Is that a wedding band?" She asked seeing a plain ring on the fourth finger of his left hand, his usual chunky rings were missing tonight. "Are you married?" It broke Harry's heart to see tears well up behind her glasses, and she took another step back.

He honestly didn't know how he should answer her because it was very obvious. There was no excuse he could make other than admit to her.

"Yes, but-"

"There shouldn't be a but!" She interrupted him, "you're cheating on your partner!"

"YN, please, I, I don't know how to explain but this it's not what you're thinking, love."

"It's exactly what I'm thinking." She stated the obvious, "don't ever talk to me again please."

She left him standing there.

......................................................................

YN couldn't work on weekends anymore, and she took on afternoon shift at work because her mum gave birth to another boy. Luckily the baby wasn't born cranky like others.

It only put more toll on YN alone.

"YN? You alright?" Adi asked who was helping his sister in the kitchen.

"Yeah." She nodded. "Watch your fingers!"

"Oh!" He realised the knife was too close to his fingers as he chopped tomatoes.

"Idiot." YN chuckled smacking him on his shoulder.

After lunch most of the kids were off to sleep, she didn't knew where her dad was he's got an habit that he goes missing for days and then returns back home tk shower and eat, her mum was fast asleep with the new baby. She told Adi to look after the kids for a little bit if they needed anything so she can go take a nice walk.

It was a Sunday night so she was home all day. YN sat down on the bench at the park, there were still few people around but it was getting darker. She pulled out her phone to watch something as she doesn't get much time to do so.

Honestly she has been sulking since the night she last saw Harry. She had no idea he was married already. Maybe if she had asked...

YN had never showed any interest in dating or having a romantic life in all. She had too much on her plate to be a good enough partner to someone. But it was getting harder to keep her feelings in check with him.

Just when she swiped over open Google after putting on her earphones with music on to look at the recent Share values for her work and personal purposes, a article popped up on the new feed.

Divorce Notice: Styles & Co. Owner and CEO, Harry Styles gets cheated on by his wife.

Now she was surprised to see Harry's face plastered on the article cover with a blonde woman. It wasn't something she had ever expected to be.

Styles & Co. owner was in Top 10 richest man in the England, but no one hardly knew about him as a founder and CEO but all about his textile and fashion company. YN has been a huge nerd when it comes to business. She read many business magazines but none of then had even a single picture of Harry. There must have been a possibility which she must have missed by chance as there was a picture of him from one of the many formal events with his wife on his side.

Please give her benifit of the doubt, there are hundreds if not thousands of Harrys in this world!

But never once did she thought that the Harry who visited the pub she worked weekend shifts at would be one of the richest man in England. He was too humble, well spoken, and polite to be a millionaire. And no wonder why he felt her such heavy tips after.

She was furious on herself for potentially breaking up a relationship. She didn't wanted to click on the link, but she turned off her music and did. He was married to her for eight years! They have been together since they were eighteen. There were mentions of even Harry cheating on his wife with a random girl he was spotted with at a club last weekend, blurry pictures of him at the club were attached as receipts, and also written rumours of him seeing other people as well. And that Harry have file for a divorce and sued his (ex) wife for defamation as there were articles about him published two weeks back as well.

She realised she shouldn't have gotten that attached him when they would meet barely for three hours every night for a week and half. She needed to get her attachment issues in check. She was insanely jealous and heart broken she felt when she found out he was married. But she hated herself to not ask him about anything else.

It was a good thing she didn't proceeded with the kiss, not anyone with a sane mind to kiss a married person. But that would leading him on like he did to her by keeping such a huge secret from her. Yes, she haven't told him about her family situation, she doesn't like to tell her traumatic family story to her friends. She wasn't ready. She has her siblings to look after because they have no one to do that.

It was a good thing she didn't kiss him that night!

......................................................................

YN was on her way to work, her desk job on the Friday a week later she had read the article.

Her sulking have gotten worse at home. She was lashing out on her siblings and mother for no reason (well, she had many reasons with her mother). She had been feeling sad, angry, heart broken, guilty and every negative feeling a human can go through. She didn't wanted to celebrate her birthday day before.

Her time went by so fast that she didn't even realise it was time for lunch break, so she headed down stairs to the lobby to get some fresh air and a coffee to keep her up. She haven't been sleeping well either. Just when she was about to walk back to her floor the security guard stopped her.

"Ms. YLN." He called, "someone had these delivered under your name." The man handed her a small bouquet of all pink roses, tulips and carnations, a box of some fancy chocolate which looked very fucking expensive for some reason. She took it and walked upto the sofas kept in the lobby. She placed her coffee cup on the coffee table in front of her along with the chocolate box and plucked out the yellow note.

I'm extremely sorry for what happened that night, I had no bad intentions. Had no reason to basically do something so bad which was happening to me. Hope you like these flowers! Please call me if you think you can forgive me.

Ps. We have a spot for Financial Advisor in my company, would love to have you join our team. Let's at least be friends.

-H

It was all written in messy writing in block letters with red ink. A number scribbled over in the corner with a messy heart drawn as a punctuation at the end of him signing off. On the back of the note said something more.

Please do call me. I'll be looking forward to it. Please?

At the end of the day, YN was walking back home. Bouquet of flowers tucked in between her her chest and arms delicately. She had saved Harry's number on her phone so she pulled up her number to call him finally. He picked up on the third ring.

"Hi, Harry." She spoke, slowing down as she neared his firm.

"Hi, you called!" He celebrated on the other side, a clear sigh audible, "Are you off work now? I wanted to talk."

"I'm on my way back home."

"I, I am still stuck at work, would, would you mind coming up? I, I don't want to talk about this over a phone call. Please?" He plead. His voice wavered, maybe it was him feeling or the poor network connection. YN didn't know if she should go in at his work place. "Come up, I'll ask the receptionist to send you up, please!"

"I- uhhh, okay, okay." She sighed.

"Stay on the phone, okay?" He requested, the line went silent for a bit. "Walk right in."

So she did. The receptionist told her the way to his office. His office was everything she imagined it to look like from the inside, marble floor so clean you could see your face in it, glass cubicles, separated offices for the higher level management on the fourth floor. She took the stair to the third floor for a reason. It was all empty by now, the second floor which was the accounts department. Third floor was all things fashion she did not understand but found very fascinating. A few people still working. She felt very under dressed walking through the floor to another set stairs to the fourth floor, in her blue baggy jeans and long sleeved t-shirt. Her work place didn't had any dress code necessarily, unless the employees are dressed appropriately even if it's something casual.

"Hi, I am here to see Mr. Styles." YN approached the desk out of office at the very end of the hall.

"YN?" The man asked.

"Yeah."

"That's Mr. Styles' office, you can go right in." He pointed at the big brown door.

YN could see Harry already walking upto the door from the skinny glass window next to the door. Before she could knock, he swung the door open. His classic frog smile plaster on his face, wide and happy enough to make his dimples appear evidently on his cheeks. Without a word he stepped aside and let her walk in before he gently shut the door behind him, pulled the blinds down on the skinny window by the door and walked her to the sofa area in his office, opposite to his desk.

"What would you like?" He asked, picking up the receiver to his desk phone. "Coffee? Tea?"

"I, I am good thank you." She stuttered feeling awkward standing there not knowing what to do. The sofa looked way too good and expensive for her to put her butt on it. But she saw still muttering something in the phone quickly.

"Why don't you have a seat?" He suggested already taking a seat on the end of the sofa. She did the same, placing her new bag she thrifted the other day on the floor and the bouquet of flowers on the coffee table carefully. She sat by the edge on the cushion. Harry caught on that but said nothing.

"You wanted to talk?" She asked.

"Mhmm." He nodded, eyes glazed on moony shimmer as he looked at her with his teeth burying in his bottom lip, "about that night, YN, I want to apologise first and explain to you what really happened."

"Why didn't you ever tell me about you being married? You told me nothing about you but at the same time you told me everything!" Her voice wavered as her vision went water with tears. Brick by brick her wall was falling apart there.

"Because I was not happy with her." He stated, carefully scooted closer to her but got on the rug on the floor next to her knees making her shift back in her seat. He reached for her hand, giving her the option to go on and hold his if she wanted to, but she chose not to. "I need you to please listen to me, okay?"

"Mhmm." She sounded.

"She was cheating on me, for over a year. I wasn't happy. I don't know why I put up with her for three months after I found out, but I couldn't take it anymore after that night with you. I filed for a divorce." He looked up at her like a little lost puppy, "I feel so guilty for leading you on like that, love, I wish I knew how to fix that."

"Doesn't matter, you are still married to her." She began but he quickly spoke in between.

"Not anymore."

"You were back then!" She got frustrated, "you were going to do the same thing to her."

It hit him in the very next morning after that night which lead him to get a divorce, there was no other choice than to admit to her, "I know, and I am so guilty for doing that."

"I get it." She said but was interrupted by saying anything further hearing the knock on the door. It was his assistant, two cups of tea which he placed on the coffee table and left.

"Look YN, I have spent enough time with me to know how I feel for you. You've become my best friend in no time. Didn't tell you anything because I was afraid you'd treat me differently, was wrong on that too." He dared to hook his pointer finger around hers but she didn't seem to mind, "I have grown to like you so much."

"Harry, I..." She trailed off for a moment, "I can't, I, I am not ready for anything of this sort. I, I mean I'm not— I can't give you the time..."

"I, why not?" He was surprised, "you were going to-"

"I know, I don't want you to bring that up again." She stated, it made her feel to guilty. No matter if she knew the truth now. "I have my siblings to look after, I am always working and I can't give someone the time and energy. It's not fair. For anyone!"

It has been a thing for YN since her brother Adi, the eldest of the boys' was born. She was just ten years old and she taught herself to take care of her baby brother when her mum would up and leave to gossip with the neighbour lady for hours and hours on end, even the entire day. Then two years later came her another brother, and from then their family had grown from family-of-four to noe a family-of-nine. It was hilarious at this point.

Her boyfriend of three years broke up with her within six months of her moving back in with her parents after the youngest of the boys' was born. Merely because she was working two jobs and looking after the kids who weren't hers!

But they are her siblings.

No matter how much she wanted all of the good things for herself, a loving partner, kids of her own, a little family of her own. She had got to fullfill her dream of through the little babies her mum gave birth to but wanted no responsibilities towards. Since her breakup, she never dated again really. Though her colleagues tried to set her up but none of the dates worked out for her. Which she was totally fine with.

Harry looked at her, "look we can take it slow. To be vulnerable with you, I've started to go to therapy- now you're the only I'm sharing this with because I know you're not going to judge me for it- my therapist says I need time. To myself. Which I have plenty of. That is why I offered you the job as our financial advisor so we can still be friends and hang out. I no longer want to drown my sorrows and sadness in alcohol, it's sickening! I, I want a friend like you!"

She watched as he rushed to speak, faster than he usually talks. His nose was turned pick and so were the apples of his cheeks, eye lashes wet from tears brimming in his eyes. Feeling bad, she found herself slipping her hand in his. His skin was warmly comforting against hers. His hand much bigger than hers, Harry noticed.

"You don't know anything Harry, I'm really sorry if I've unknowingly led you on. It wasn't my intention." She mumbled.

"I want to know, I'm here to listen to you like you do to me, love. You know I would never judge you." He admitted. Honestly he wanted that so bad, not just one sided conversation where only he's the one speaking. "You didn't led me onto anything, no apology is needed here. In fact I should be the one apologising."

"You don't know Harry, I've got..." She trailed off, "I, I can't talk about this right now. I'm sorry." Her apology was punctuated with a quiet sob leaving her lips.

"That's okay," he assured her, "it's fine with me." He noticed how she held her breath until she couldn't, showing the sign what he could only make up to be anxiety. "Here." He fetched her a bottle of water from the mini fridge.

He sat there giving her the time to calm herself down because he didn't wanted to intervene and make things worse for her. Later he offered to drive her home which surprisingly she agreed to, she put up her address on his GPS in the car and sat there in silence. Anxious checking every turn he took.

Now YN wasn't embarrassed of her family, though it come like that. She just hated the judgement which came along with it. Both her parents didn't work, one was alcoholic and other simply doesn't want the responsibility. People asked her why did she took care of kids who weren't hers? Well, they're still her siblings. They didn't asked to be brought up into this world. She doesn't want her siblings to go through what she had went through growing up with a pair of parents who should have clearly gotten a divorce the next hour they got married. She stopped talking about it all together when it started to get to her. She was happy with what she had and being the guardian to her siblings.

"Hmm?" She noticed Harry was actually saying something as he took the last turn to her place.

"I said, how is your brother? How's his cricket practice going on?" He asked again.

"Oh, he's doing fine. He had a match yesterday." She shared.

"Should I stop here?" He asked slowing down two buildings down her actual one. But YN saw her brother there coming back home, probably from one of his jobs.

Adi looked at her suspiciously as the car came to an halt next to him. YN opened the door to get out but her brother blocked her.

"Oh hello there mate!" Adi said, "I am YN's brother, Adi."

"Hello." Harry chuckled watching YN roll her eyes. "I'm Harry."

"Nice to meet you Harry!" Adi exclaimed side eyeing his older sister, "how come you know my sister?"

"We're friends." He shared.

"Oh!" Adi dragged, "would you like to come up, have a cuppa?"

Harry glanced at YN awkwardly, "he's got to go, Adi now move away." She tried to shove the boy aside but he wouldn't budge, so she scolded him. Harry didn't understood a word but Adi moved away and went straight to the building. "Thank you for driving me home Harry."

"Don't mention it." He smiled at her.

"I'm sorry about that, little brothers are very annoying sometimes." She said awkwardly, stalling long enough to make it known she didn't wanted to go. But she had to go, the kids were probably on their own and doing as they please instead of doing their homework.

"Hey!" He complained, "not all little brothers are annoying!" She just chuckled knowing why he was defending the boy he just met, he's probably got an older sister as well!

"Harry, you've become a really good friend over these past few months." YN shared, "thank you so much for everything."

"If anything, I should be the one thank you for listening to me rant." A sheepish smile took over his gorgeous features, "most people find me annoying because I talk slow and shit."

"It's not annoying." She shook her head.

"I'm going to believe you here."

"Anyway, I should go." She said getting out but stopped and plucked out one pink rose from her bouquet and gave it to him.

"Thank you love." He smirked.

"These are very pretty thank-" she was interrupted by Adi coming back out running with a crying Zara in his arms making her jump out and run to the kids.

Harry got out as well in shock watching as the boy explained to his sister what must have happened. Adi was holding onto the little girl's arm securely.

"What happened?" Harry dared to asked.

"Harry, oh my god you're still here!" YN breathed out in relief, "please would you take us to the nearest hospital?"

"Of course, get in." He agreed in a heartbeat. Adi hopped into the backseat with the crying girl next to YN and Harry zoomed to the nearest hospital.

"I think she broke her arm." Adi shared.

After her it's Adi who is there for the kids but he came home late for work. She was pissed that their mum didn't even wanted to keep an eye on the kids that one of them broke an arm literally. Zara was being checked on in the ER when she asked Adi to go back home and check on other kids. She was really furious on her mother.

It was pretty late when the doctors were done treating Zara. She had a cast on which had to be kept on for next two weeks. The little girl was was still overwhelmed by everything, it was the first time she had to be rushed to an ER and hopefully the last time. She looked scared as she lied there with her cast on.

"Harry would you mind staying here whilst I take care of the discharge?" She requested.

"Sure." He nodded.

He sat there by the little girl, "hey, what's your name?"

"Zara." She pouted. "Where is YN?"

"She's gone to take care of a few things so you can home and rest." Harry explained. "I am Harry by the way."

"I want Coco!" She whined quietly. Harry assumed it might be a pet or her stuffed toy.

"Yeah? You miss her?"

"Mhmm." Zara nodded. She's so much like her older sister he noticed there, all same features. YN came back rather quickly.

She had to call up her colleague, Jamila to ask her to lend some money. She had just paid for her mum and took out a loan on her credit card which she's still paying up for. The bank transfer was not going through so Jamila offered to come down to the hospital and pay for the bills.

"I wanna go home." Zara shared with her sister.

"Just a few minutes and we'll go home okay?" YN assured her.

"What's wrong, love?" Harry enquired.

"It's nothing. And Harry, thank you so much for driving us here and waiting here, you really didn't had to but you still did." She smiled, "Thank you."

"No problem, YN." He chuckled.

"I'm just gonna wait for my friend to come here, so you don't have to wait up anymore." YN said urging him, he's done a lot already she doesn't want him to wait up more. It was already close to midnight.

"It's alright, I don't mind waiting up." He assured her. "Nah! No arguing, she's asleep!" He shushed her down, "why did you call your friend over? I would have dropped you back home."

"Oh, it's not that..." She stuttered. She mumble quietly which he couldn't make it but he understood what it was.

"Could have asked me." He sighed standing up from his seat, "come with me." He grabbed a gentle hold on her hand and dragged her out with him.

"Zara's alone the—"

"She's fine there." He interrupted her. "Call your friend up and ask them not to come."

"Harry, listen to me!" She yanked on his hand the best she could to stop him. "I know you want to help, but I can manage to look after my family just fine."

"I'm sorry, YN, but I'm not saying you can't. I'm just trying to help you out here." He explained.

"I really, really appreciate that, Harry. I really do. But you're not going to take it back, are you?"

He just stared at her for a beat, "I will, with twelve per cent interest. Now come on." With that he walked her to the reception and paid for the bills and all, he made YN call her friend and ask them to not go over before dropping her back home. "You want me to carry her upstairs?" He offered, putting his car in park.

"It's alright, I can carry her." She smiled. "Thank you so much for today, Harry."

"Don't mention it." He shook his head chuckling, "hey, YN?"

"Hmm?" She looked up at him stood on the pavement with her sister clung onto her like a baby monkey, fast asleep. She juggled the bouquet of flowers and her keys as well.

"The job post is still available, you can just walk in on Monday for the interview, yeah?" He reminded her.

"Harry, I don't know if I'm qualified enough to be a good Financial Advisor." YN spoke, her voice quiet so she doesn't wake her sister.

"I'm not qualified to be a CEO either," he shrugged.

"Okay, I'll go for the interview." She nodded, "but don't threatened your HR and Manager, please!"

He giggled, "I won't, I promise."

"Alright." She smiled, "good night, amd thank you so much."

"Stop thanking me now!" He warned her, "and good night."

Harry waited for her to wall back in her building safely before getting back in his car.

At least he's got a good friend if not anything else. But he was unaware of what was to come his way.

......................................................................

N O T E :

Y'all this took me wayyyyyy to long write. I've been writing this from late November last year. Was stuck on how I could have explored the characters mentioned in this one.

I can write more about it, tho I don't know what I can. But if y'all have any suggestions I'll consider them. <3

I really hope y'all like this one. Please leave a comment and tell me how you liked it. Or if you have any suggestions.

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