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Kate mini version

Anthony Bridgerton x Kate Sharma x Sharma!sis

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

part 1

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"No."

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

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

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

AS IF! ― SERIES MASTERLIST

“Were I to fall in love, indeed, it would be a different thing; but I have never been in love; it is not my way, or my nature; and I do not think I ever shall.”

― Jane Austen, Emma

Pairing: Modern!Aemond Targaryen x Fem!Tyrell!Reader

Rating: Explicit. Trigger warnings will be placed in 18+ chapters.

“Clueless” inspired. Dedicated to all virgins who can't drive.

Summary: (Y/N) Tyrell lives her life just like an ordinary girl - big mansion, wealthy lawyer as a father, getting absolutely everything she wants. Without any worries of her own, as she keeps boys at a respectful distance, she is the perfect candidate to serve as matchmaker for everybody in town. Especially clueless new girls.

No worries of her own. If only the ridiculously handsome and intelligent Aemond Targaryen hadn't found himself right in the middle of her matchmaking games. And in her house as well, how lovely.

But surely it won't be a problem? She doesn't even care.

Ugh, as if...

COMING SOON

darilaros (princess) │ Chapter 2: Dolls

terms of endearment ‘verse: see my Masterlist for the correct series order!

Chapter 1 │Chapter 2 │Chapter 3 │Chapter 4 │Chapter 5 │Chapter 6 │Chapter 7 │Chapter 8 (Work In Progress!)

Synopsis: Lady Aemma brings a new child into the world—you. As the second daughter of Prince Viserys, soon to be King, you experience firsthand what it means to belong to the House of the Dragon.

Hello! My apologies for the wait. There was a whole mess of stuff that killed my drive to write for a few days. BUT, I’ve managed to write this one, featuring baby!Babey as a POV character! I’ve tried hard to keep it in a ‘small person’ voice, which got real old real fast, lol. Keep in mind that she’s around 3 years old in this one, so she’s not hella mature or anything. My thanks to @ewanmitchellcrumbs​ for reading this asshole over, lol.

TRIGGERS: child doing child things, child narrating Episode 1 of HotD, character death.

Keep reading

Ghost Rider - Rooster - Masterlist

Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw x pilot female reader

Summary:

You lived up to your callsign, Ghost. You hid and then scared the crap out of people in the sky. As an incredibly decorated officer for your age, you were called back to Top Gun for a dangerous mission. Despite your best intentions, the people on this mission - specifically one - would do their best to get you out of hiding, getting you out of your comfort zone of the shadows and into a lively world. 

Chapters:

One - 28 August 2022

Two - 31 August 2022

Three - 4 September 2022

Four - 6 September 2022

Five - 7 September 2022

Six - 19 September 2022

Seven - 3 November 2022

Eight - 11 December 2022

Nine - 3 March 2023

Epilogue

You Tell Me You Hate Me, Baby (Yeah I Bet You Do)

FORGET ME TOO PART 1

Summary: When the faithful abandon their duty…what is it that remains? When Aemond return home from yet another visit to see Alys and their son, he finds that there are consequences to his infidelity. Consequences he not only did not expect, but does not like.

Note: This one came to me fast and I just started writing it. It aint perfect, but it sure is about the vibes here.

Part 2

Word Count: 5.2k+

I spoke in quiet tones with the Queen over the table as we broke our fast. Even with the room empty, one never knew who was listening in the Red Keep. The walls themselves seemed to have ears. And it was a fact that I had grown to dread more and more as I learned that just as much as the walls had ears, they had mouths too. Mouths that created rumors and malicious whispers, then caused them to run rampant. The types of rumors and whispers that would tear you apart to the very core of your being while you just had to endure it. The pain they caused was not allowed to matter - not if you wanted to act as though the words were not true. And I could not handle it any longer. I should not have to handle it in the first place. That much I was sure of. 

“I am asking you to understand, my Queen,” I said in a sharper whisper than I had before. “I can no longer do this. And it is cruel enough to me that I have been forced to remain in such a situation this long. Word has gotten out. Why should my reputation suffer further than it already has? Why should I continue to endure this humiliation as I have been? A humiliation that only grows worse by the day. My brother is already angry enough to storm south and take me home himself, even if that required your son’s head on a pike.”

“You cannot simply leave, Y/N, you must know that,” Alicent said quietly, voice closer to begging, to pleading, than it was to demanding. “There are rumors, yes, but there is no proof. The rumors will die down. They always do when given time. All will be well once more when that happens. I will talk to my son. I will make it so. This shall not haunt you forever.”

My hands clenched into fists where they sat on my lap. “Your son does not care for me any more today than he did on the day we met,” I snapped. “It will not magically be well. It cannot be magically well again when it never was - nothing could make it so.” I took a deep breath. Closed my eyes. Opened them again. “Alicent. I am begging you to hear me. He has a lover. His lover has had his child now. A son. He is never here because he is with them. He is with your grandchild.”

Her gaze darkened, my words troubling her and making her sad. But it didn’t matter how much she liked or cared for me. I wasn’t her son. And he was what mattered to her. I knew that. I prepared myself for whatever tirade she would go on, and still, as with every other time we’d had this unending conversation, found myself surprised.

“You cannot say such reckless things,” she insisted. “There is no proof. He merely takes Vhagar on rides and patrols as he must. He is not doing something so insidious as having another family. You should be ashamed of yourself for even thinking of such! A good wife does not put weight into such unsubstantiated rumors.”

I leaned against the table, then covered my mouth with my hands feeling utterly exhausted. “Alicent. He told me so himself,” I said shortly. “He told me that Alys Rivers is the one that he loves - the only one that he could ever love. He told me he loathed me for keeping him from the only family which he found to be true. He told me that they had a son and that she was the only one he’d ever see carry his children. That she was the only one he would be a true family with. The words came from his own mouth. And if you do not trust my own word, well then the next time he sees fit to show up I recommend you ask him.” I scoffed. “Better yet, my Queen, ask your Master of Whispers. I am sure he has information on it for you should you ask for it.”

Alicent’s hands were shaking and she started picking at the skin around her nails. I sighed and immediately intercepted her, grabbing her hands and holding them to stop her. She stilled in the destruction she was doing, but her hands still had a light tremor to them. She looked upset. Genuinely so. Part of me felt bad. Part of me understood the unending stress she had endured since she was a mere girl-made-Queen. Part of me, though - the larger part, in fact - had grown to be colder than the home I’d left behind in Winterfell and just didn’t care for her pain anymore.

“Let me…please let me just be a Stark once more. I don’t…I don’t even ask you to let me go home to Winterfell. I know that you cannot grant me such a thing. But implore the Septons to annul this wedding. We didn’t have a bedding ceremony. He has not touched me. I am a woman grown. Just let me go. I have no desire to remain in this sham and have to make both our lives so needlessly fucking miserable. Alicent…please. If you ever cared about Aemond. If you ever cared about me. Just…please let this end. I will speak no ill of him to others. Of any of you. Not even to Cregan - I will keep the truth from my own brother if that is what you require, my Queen. I don’t care. I don’t even ask for revenge or retribution as you of all people would know I’d be well within my right to do. So just…please let me go,” I pled. 

The Queen looked hesitant. But, I could tell that the tide was turning and she was coming to see my side. “You…you give up too easily on this, Y/N. You cannot do such a thing,” she said firmly.

“I do not give up! I have waited over three years of marriage for your son to even pretend he can stand my presence and he cannot even grant me that much respect,” I said, unable to help the tears of both frustration and humiliation from rising in my eyes. “He will chart the fucking constellations in her eyes and I doubt he could even name the color of mine. He knows nothing of me and cares not to. And to be frank? I have long since given up a desire to care for anything related to him. How could I not? I have been patient. I have been understanding. I have been kind. I have been loyal - to him, to the Targaryens, to the fucking Hightowers! And what have I gotten out of it? Less than nothing! Separated from my family and the only home I knew! With people who do not care for me at all! I am no fool who thinks life is fair, but I would think that maybe you could understand my frustration at all of this!”

“We cannot do such a thing,” she said. Alicent’s eyes were impassive and she looked me over. Analytical. Looking for weakness. The sharp, shrewd look was gone just as quickly as it had appeared. Her mouth came into a line, veering just slightly into the territory of a frown. “We could not afford to lose the alliance with your house. I am sure you understand that, Lady Stark. I am…am sorry.”

My jaw clenched in anger. I couldn’t help it at this point. “If you are that concerned with maintaining the relationship with my family then you should listen to me, Queen Alicent,” I warned. “I mean it when I say that Cregan intends to march here himself with a thousand Northmen if that’s what it takes to free me from this. He is no fool. He receives word just as every other nobleman. I did not even need to tell him for him to know. He is furious that I have been held in such a situation this long. And I have no desire to stop any aim of his to retrieve me. Why would I?” I shook my head. “Your best bet to maintaining the alliance is by letting me go. Marry me off to your other fucking son and send me to Oldtown if your concern remains that great. I would take that - I would take anything - over the humiliation that I have already endured. We both know that the Targaryens do stranger things than switching wives.”

She blinked in shock. “Is that a threat?” she asked sharply.

I’d lost her, then. Her minor willingness to listen had evaporated into nothing. I let out a sigh and rose to my feet. “No, my Queen. It wasn’t a threat. It was a statement of fact. A statement of the future that will quite literally storm the doors of the Red Keep if allowed to happen,” I said. “I shall leave you to think in peace, Your Grace.”

Without being granted leave, I exited. I nodded to Ser Cole, standing faithfully at the door as always. My own guard, Ser Rydan Carron,  appointed to me by the King himself upon my wedding to Aemond, stepped off the wall, following me not even a full step behind me. I nodded to those who greeted me with combinations of Lady Y/N, Lady Stark, and Princess. I kept my face impassive as I moved towards my chambers, looking bored and blank rather than upset. I heard their whispers, heard the words of my husband’s actions swirling behind me. I pretended to be oblivious as was always required. It was only in the peace of my room that I openly let out the curses I had been building up.

“Gods, Y/N,” Rydan chuckled, “Based on that ladylike tirade, I take it that the conversation did not go to your liking.”

I leveled him with a glare. “Fuck you, Rydan,” I said simply. I scoffed and shook my head. “Of course it didn’t. The Queen would rather we all be fucking tortured than do what will ultimately be the best choice for everyone involved.”

Rydan hummed in acknowledgment. “Good as your stupid husband is with a blade, he remains untested in true battle. I do not. I could run him through with a sword the next time he returns and have us safely on the way to your brother before they’d even notice his body had gone cold.” A kind offer, if entirely impractical. He smirked then. “Or if that doesn’t suit your fancy, I could just kill you. Frame him for your death. Cregan will well and truly wage war upon them if I do that for you.”

I laughed at his words, the sound startled from my lips more than anything intentional. I reached out and squeezed his arm in appreciation. “Most kind of you to offer, Ser. But alas, I think that is a terrible idea so I will have to refuse. The both of them,” I said. My lips fell back into their half frown. I gestured to one of the couches in my antechamber, sitting in one myself. Rydan took the one opposite me, a look of vague amusement on his face at my lackluster refusal. “I wish I could accept it though, in truth. The first one. It would be well deserved but I…I cannot.”

He nodded, pursing his lips. “Stark honor,” he said, with faux wisdom in his voice. He gave me a goofy smile and I rolled my eyes. He reached over to the table in front of him, picking up the book he’d set there the day prior. “Shall I continue off where we were yesterday, Princess?”

“Never call me that,” I said after fake gagging. I relaxed on the couch until I was more laying than sitting. I allowed my eyes to drift up to the ceiling and tucked my feet under myself. I looked at him. “Go on then, read to me.” 

Rydan opened the book, a long tale that one of the foremost authors of Westeros had written. A rare first edition with the author’s notes. My favorite book, and a gift from the King at my wedding. A generous gift. A well-loved one. Far more generous and well-loved than his son, even. I listened as Rydan’s voice washed over me, capturing the cadence of the story expertly. I smiled and laughed at all the right parts - even more than expected with the humor and personality he managed to inject. A few chapters in, I was already more relaxed than I had been through the rest of the week. I was enjoying myself as much as I allowed myself to while in King’s Landing. Right as we reached the point where the hero was going to agree to fight our villain, I stopped him to call for a light lunch for us. We spent time eating, chatting in half-sentences about mindless topics, and then returned to the story. I was far too exhausted to give energy to anything real today. He knew that. He was kind enough to oblige. Rydan always was.

Yet, at the peak of the story, right as the hero and villain were ready to clash, there was an insistent, impatient knock on my door. I turned my head into the fabric of the couch and let out a short, cathartic scream before sitting up. I gestured to Rydan with my head. He placed the book down and snorted at my dramatics even as he rose to his feet and walked to the door. He opened it slowly and I watched as the ease on his face died. His eyes became pinched, his lips turned downward, and he looked generally annoyed if you knew what such a thing looked like on him. Regrettably, I did, which meant I knew just who it was.

“Prince Aemond,” he greeted, tone just shy of icy.

My eyes widened and I sat up more, my feet touching the ground. My brow furrowed as he walked into my chambers. He did not greet or even acknowledge Rydan. He had an annoyed look and a determined stride. That was never a good combination with my dear husband. I did not bother to keep the cringe from crossing over my face as I looked at him. 

“Dear husband,” I greeted, dull, emotionless. “What a surprise it is to see you. I had no idea you returned. What can I do for you?”

His expression fared no better, nor did his own voice. “I just got back,” he said shortly. “Come. My mother is summoning us both I’ve been told.”

I glanced over to Rydan, eyes dark in irritation. “Of course,” I said, rising to my feet. “I would not dream of keeping the Queen waiting.” I was proud of myself for keeping my icy rage out of my voice, and my sarcasm too. I gestured him to the door with my hand. “After you, husband.”

Aemond openly glared at me, forcefully taking my hand and wrapping it around his arm. “What kind of husband would I be to not escort you,” he said, voice acidic in a way that he clearly could not stop.

“Oh just yourself, you bumbling idiot,” Rydan muttered quietly in a coarse version of the trade tongue he’d taken the time to painstakingly teach me solely for the chance to insult my husband. I bit my tongue to keep from laughing. “Lead the way, my Princess.” Didn’t even acknowledge Aemond. “I go where you lead me as your faithful servant, my Lady.”

I smiled at him, acting as though he had said nothing of consequence, even as he laid it on thick. I looked over to Aemond then who was busy glaring at Rydan, suspicious of what he said. I tugged at his arm once, raising an eyebrow. Aemond glanced back at me and rolled his eyes openly before harshly tugging me down the hall forcing me to lengthen my stride to keep up with him. Both he and I ignored the greetings around us as he forced me to near-sprint down the corridors back to his mother’s chambers. I nodded to Rydan as a silent instruction to remain outside of the door next to Ser Cole who remained faithfully at his post as he always did. 

After we entered and the door closed, I released Aemond’s arm as though it burned my skin and took three steps away from him. Aemond did the same. I didn’t spare him a look. Instead, I looked to the Queen, who sat, a troubled look on her face as she gazed into the fire. There was a Septon at her side, and Larys Strong, the Master of Whispers, on her other side. My eyes widened, breath catching in my throat. Upon seeing us, the Septon and Lord both stood, bowed to us, and then left. Aemond looked puzzled, I tried my best to not appear as though I felt any particular way seeing the religious man and the Master of Whispers in the Queen’s quarters on a seemingly random day. 

“Mother, you wished to see us both. And I’ve brought…her. So here we are” Aemond asked with open animosity in the way he spat her. He dropped into the chair beside his mother in waiting. Cautiously, I perched on the couch across from them, folding my hands in my lap. “What do you need to discuss?”

“Tell me, son,” Alicent said, turning her eyes to her son, “do you enjoy making a fool of your family? Your house? Your name?” I was shocked at the venom in her voice, but Aemond looked more surprised in truth. “Tell me, where do you go when you leave your wife here alone for weeks on end as you have since you married?”

Aemond stiffened at her words, back straightening. He sat up straighter, looking still and unnatural as a shadow. “I have explained to you, mother, I must take Vhagar for regular rides. She does not enjoy being still for so long,” he said.

“That dragon is well over one hundred and fifty years old, son. I am not a fool. It is not some fledgling that needs to stretch its legs,” Alicent snapped. “Do not treat me as a fool, Aemond I warn you. So tell me the truth of these rumors I have been hearing. Do you have a…a lover in the Riverlands? Did you father a bastard with her?” Her fury was palpable. Evidently, the Master of Whispers had told her something she did not wish to hear. “Do you defile your wife’s reputation and honor? That of your mother? That of your family?”

Immediately, the Queen was no longer the only one angry. Aemond followed, and his anger was an incandescent rage that made the room stifling. “I told you that I did not wish for this, mother,” he said, as if things were that simple. As if it absolved him of his sins. “I told you that my heart belonged to another and I had no plans to be a part of this marriage. You and father are the ones who did not listen to me when I told you such. This is not my fault.”

“Not your fault?” the Queen asked, voice quiet with an anger that she was trying to conceal and was faring very poorly at doing. “Tell me, son, how your vile actions are not your own fault? You…you sleep with another woman who is not your wife. You have a child with a woman who is not your wife. These choices are yours entirely! So tell me how it is not your fault! Tell me how you’d explain it as appropriate to Y/N’s brother if he were to ask. Because oh, my son, he is. Cregan Stark is ready to march down from the north to take your head and I have half a mind to let him!” 

Aemond shot a furious glare at me. As though I had anything to do with this - which generally I did, but specifically I did not. “Mother,” he said, voice harsh. She stopped him though, unwilling to let him speak yet.

“You have shamed us. And moreover, you did not have the decency to try and conceal such things. Instead, you decided that ruining the reputation of your poor wife was the better of choices.” Alicent shook her head, furious, and began ripping at the skin around her nails again, blood coming easily with the tearing. “I am disgusted with your actions. With your lies. You thought nothing for the consequences of your actions, that much is very clear. I thought you better than that.” She glared at her son. “The kindest thing that you did was leaving poor Y/N’s virtue intact so she may yet still find a husband who will treat her well.”

At those words, I sat up straight, looking solely at Alicent. I did not care to see Aemond’s reaction to her declaration. I only needed to know for certain what it was that her words meant. “You…you mean?” I asked, my voice barely a whisper.

The Queen nodded once, lips turned down in a frown, tears in her beautiful, sad, exhausted eyes. “The Septon is going to figure out what he can do to make this happen as quietly and quickly as possible. For both of your sakes,” she said, nodding. She clenched her jaw. “The Hand will be writing a letter to your brother explaining such things so he will have no need to…to march on King’s Landing.” She sucked in a deep breath. “And the letter will beg forgiveness, and assure him that we had no clue what was happening.” My lips turned up in a bitter half-smirk that almost immediately disappeared. “It will ask what we may do to maintain our alliance as it should have been initially.”

“I see,” I said. Her words ripped a pressure off of my shoulders that I was aware of, but not cognizant of the extent of. I felt suddenly weightless. I could have laughed, giddy, if I weren’t entirely aware of how inappropriate it would be to do so. I let out a half laugh and leaned back into the cushion of my seat on the couch. “In all honesty, my Queen, I know exactly what Cregan will say to you. And I will tell you so. Bring Daeron home as I said, and warn him very carefully about how he must act and…conduct himself in his new role. And ensure that he listens to you.” I look away. “Starks are loyal. They’re honorable. But they are not fools.”

“What are you talking about?” Aemond snapped, his voice positively venomous. “What are the Septons working on?”

“Annulling the farce of the marriage that I foolishly allowed Y/N to stay in this long. Working to ensure that your stupidity does not ruin the peace and partnership that we are trying to forge with the Starks,” his mother replied.

Aemond scoffed. “You will take my wife?” he asked, mocking. “And what will the people say about that?”

“She will no longer be your wife, Aemond,” she said sharply. Alicent looked at her son with no attempt to conceal her anger. “The people will say more about you than they will about her. The Starks will be seen as benevolent and generous for not taking action to counter your transgressions against such a noble house. And the Starks will be noble and generous for considering marrying Y/N to Dareon and maintaining the alliance that we are trying to build. We, Aemond, will be the ones who are talked poorly about. We will be the ones that are negatively whispered of. We might only pray that Daeron is able to counter it by being gallant and noble.”

“You would marry Y/N to my brother? You think that Daeron marrying my wife will help in those rumors?” Aemond spat, clenching his fist in anger.

“Daeron is known to be a man of his word, kind, and daring. A well-suitable match for a Stark. Chivalrous and duty-bound. A man dedicated to family and to his responsibilities. There will be no doubt that he shall be a good match for her,” Alicent stated, slipping quickly into her persona of the Queen, firm and unyielding, even to her own children. “And I will hear no argument, least of all from you.” She glared at her son. “And do not think this changes anything. You will still not be allowed to marry your…your whore.”

I let out a shallow gasp at her words and the way Aemond immediately rose to his feet, fists clenched. His chest was heaving with his anger. This was the most emotion I had ever seen out of him. I wasn’t at all surprised to see that it was rage. He hardly seemed capable of experiencing positive emotion.

“Do not speak ill of Alys, mother. I love her and she is the mother of my son. I will allow none to speak ill of her,” he said dangerously. He turned then to me, a frantic look in his eye. “And what do you say to this, wife?” I turned my head, observing him. It was to the point that he could lay his hand on me right now and I wouldn’t care. So, risking it, I Iet myself bark out a laugh. This only served to make him look angrier. “You dare laugh?”

“I think, Aemond, that this is the smartest decision that the Queen and the Hand could’ve hoped to make on behalf of the King,” I said simply. “Perhaps a bit later than they should have, but, they can be credited for eventually coming around to see sense.” I raised an eyebrow. “I am confused by your anger, Aemond. You have made it clear since the moment that we met that you’d rather die than be married to me, much less touch me. I thought you’d be happy to be rid of me and be rid of the title of husband. Happy of me being rid of my title as your wife.” I let out a hum, lips pouting slightly. “I suppose you must be disappointed that it is your reputation that will suffer for this and not mine. A pity. Truly.”

“Y/N,” the Queen said shortly. A warning to not push him when he was this angry. A warning that I did not need. A warning that I had never heeded before and certainly would not need now.

“Bold words from a woman who could not please her husband,” Aemond said, taunting and unkind.

I openly laughed at his words, while Alicent gaped and tried to scold him. “Please,” I snorted, “when I am married to your brother, by all accounts feel free to ask him if I can please my husband. Until then, don’t be afraid to mind your own words or I may just have my brother come to take your head anyways.” I offered him a saccharine smile. “Even as a Prince you are no heir to the throne. And you have still offered my house - a house that you require the allegiance of - a great offense in your treatment of me. I dutifully endured it as long as I could. You are in the wrong by all accounts.”

He stepped forward, a menacing, cold smile on his face. Still, I did not break. I was far too cold myself to care for the depths or chill of his cruelty. I, in fact, rose to my own feet and smiled up at him, bright and cheery. His height advantage was no longer intimidating to me. He was no longer intimidating to me. It seemed that at that moment, he was finally recognizing the fact that I held no fear of him, no concern for him at all, really. And as he noticed, I saw a flicker of confusion and concern in his eye. I couldn’t help but smile brighter. I stepped to the side of him, one closer to the door.

“I assure you that I will write my own letter to my brother, Your Grace. All will be well,” I vowed. She looked visibly relieved at that assurance. I felt a sick sense of satisfaction at that power. “I thank you for your help in this. Thank you for listening.”

“What?” Aemond asked, reaching out and grabbing my arm, tightly. “What do you mean thank you for listening? Are you responsible for this, wife?”

My own bright smile grew colder as I wrenched my arm from his hand. “Do not put your hands on me,” I warned. “None will take to it kindly. And I am going to tell Ser Carron that if you do lay your hands on me that he may do whatever it may take to get your hands off of me.” Alicent’s breath caught in her throat. I did not care.

“You threaten a prince,” he said, jaw clenched. “Your husband.”

“I threaten a wastrel,” I corrected with a mocking smile. “And you should take that word out of your vocabulary. You shan’t be my husband for much longer, thanks to the mercy of the gods old and new, and the wisdom of our dear Queen.” I made to walk towards the door. Then, I turned back. “And yes I am responsible for this, Aemond. I had no desire to deal with you any longer than I already had. You should be glad to have so much more time freed up for your princely duties and your rides upon Vhagar! Take heart!” I offered another malicious smile. “And it is as your mother said. You left my virtue intact, the kindest thing you could have done. I do so appreciate it. And I am sure that your brother shall as well when the time comes. No one likes a person with…loose morals, do they?” I walked to the door then, leaving the pair in stunned silence. I turned back a final time. “Thank you, Your Grace. Truly. I will deliver a missive to you today. For a raven to send to my brother. This I promise you.”

“And I…I will send word for Daeron to return from Oldtown,” she said, slumping back in her seat, looking exhausted and a little bit defeated. Again, I got a sick little sense of delight from it - from the power. She looked directly at me then. “And, Y/N, thank you…for your generosity and understanding in sorting this. Yours and that of House Stark.”

“Of course, my Queen,” I said, bowing my head dutifully before pulling the door open and leaving. The shouting behind the door started almost immediately. Louder than the Queen even shouted at Aegon. I bit my cheek to keep from smiling. Ser Cole’s face was impassive. Rydan looked curious. I smiled shortly at him, innocent and fleeting, unseen by another, and pat his arm. “Come now, Ser Carron. I have a letter I must write presently. We should make haste. It will need to go out today.”

The words were innocent enough. But Rydan clearly knew what they meant. He chuckled as he stepped of the wall, gesturing forward with a hand. “Lead the way, my Lady,” he said with a wolf-like grin.

The Coldest Truth | Thomas Shelby

masterlist

part 1 of the odd comfort series II III

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

pairing: modern day! thomas shelby x fem! reader

words: 3.1k

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

‘Let her pass.’

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Shove it up your arse.

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

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

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

‘I get to marry your daughter.’

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

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

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

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

Your father shifted uncomfortably.

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

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

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

What?

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

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

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

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

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

‘I have a deal with Sabini.’

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

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

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

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

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

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

I see something I want?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I am not a fan of Thomas Shelby.

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

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

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

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

‘You’re getting married next week.’

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

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

‘Father, I can’t marry him.’

‘The contract was signed.’

‘I can’t cook, or clean, or—‘

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

‘I spend a lot of money, Papa.’

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

‘Bu—‘

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

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

SOUR | JJK

PAIRING: Boxer Jungkook x Ballerina Reader

GENRE: ESTABLISHED RELATIONSHIP, BOXER AU, DANCE, AU SMUT, FLUFF, ANGST

Words: 10k🥸

WARNINGS: abusive parents, drugs, making out, Jungkook breaking in again, cursing, they're complete opposites, cringe nicknames, ANNOYING fangirls, reader is insecure, polar opposites dynamics, emo boy Jk, inexperienced reader, bullying

SYNOPSIS:

In the world of boxing, Jeon Jungkook is the epitome of an ace with his tattoos and rippling muscles. You, however, are his opposite—a delicate presence. When told you're not his usual type, doubts arise. Are you truly meant for each other?

A/n: Hiiiiiii it's that time again! Hope you enjoy reading this update and please let me know what you think or if you have any ideas I could add in the future also just wanted to take a moment to say ty to each and every one of you who keeps coming back to read my lil stories or just discovering them for the first time whether you've been here for a while or are brand new on this blog! You're all welcome (as long as you're over 18 eep-) 🤍. Let's go feral over this Jungkook together in the asks <3.

Dressed in a black shirt and a pair of loose training shorts, Jungkook's muscles were prominent beneath the fabric as he made his way to the boxing area.

Theres sounds of gloves meeting punching bags through the place and loud music blasting over the speaker as the scent of sweat hang strongly in the air.

Frustration welled up within Jungkook as he caught a glimpse of his self-proclaimed fan club, who seemed to have found their way near the ring. He rolls his eyes.

A surge of annoyance coursed through his veins, and a quiet "fuck" slipped past his lips but is gaze quickly fixed on the boxing ring that stood at the center of the room like a trophy.

Jungkook was pumped to kick some serious ass today, eager to release all the emotions that had been swirling around in his head for the past few days. He was now dating you—the fucking girl of his dreams–what better way to celebrate, than by going all out and fucking up his opponents?

Jungkook had always been passionate about working out, pushing his body to its limits with hardcore training.

But there was something about boxing that ignited... excitement in him—a primal energy that had caught his complete attention.

It was more than just a way to get stronger for him– it was an opportunity to prove his strength, both physical and mentally testing his limits.

The sound of leather gloves connecting with the punching bags, the shouts of trainer Chan motivating his friends who came earlier than him today, all filled him with happiness, only thing that could make today better was you.

But there was no way he'd let you set foot in this place, not with all these sweaty men, weirdos, and the damn crazy fangirls swarming around

Taking a deep breath, Jungkook stepped onto the padded floor, the ring was his sanctuary, a space where he could let his true self shine.

He easily put on a pair of boxing gloves, tightening the straps around his wrists with practiced movements. The weight of the gloves was familiar, a reminder of the victories he had earned over the past years–Jungkook was this gyms–no–this cities pride whenit came to boxing.

Flexing his knuckles inside the gloves, he cracks his neck and looks at Namjoon, his friend and todays opponent.

"Good luck fucker" Jungkook joked earning a laugh from the small crowd that had formed around the ring–and this was just practise, when it came to an actual fight, people would pay thousands to see him go all in.

"You too kid"

With that, the bell rang, and the sounds of punches and grunts began.

-

"Three, two, one... Three, two, one..." Mrs. Chuu acknowledges you with a nod as you flawlessly execute your choreography, just as you had rehearsed these past few weeks.

"And two, and three, and..." Mrs. Chuu furrows her brows, shaking her head. "You're going the wrong way, Y/n," she speaks firmly. "I can't understand why you consistently turn left instead of right." She shakes her head "Again."

You nod, regaining your composure, readjusting your skirt and foot placement, and gripping the ballet bar once more, your body was tense, but from the outside you looked as effortless and soft as possible.

After dedicating a solid seven hours to dancing today–with well-deserved breaks sprinkled in–it was no surprise that exhaustion was settling in.

You were used to this kind of exhaustion. It was like a routine for you, dancing for seven days a week. The only silver lining was that on Fridays, you got a sweet long break only having to be at the studio for 1 hour of stretching—a well-deserved rest day.

"Hey, focus, y/n!" Mrs. Chuus voice snaps you back to reality, making you bitebyour lip for getting caught daydreaming

Your mom was about to arrive any minute now, eager to see your progress. And to be honest, both you and Mrs. Chuu dreaded her arrival. She had this annoying trade to nitpick and find flaws in everything.

"She's gonna be all over you, judging your every move," she sighs, fully aware of what was about to go down.

Your mom's a known perfectionist and a pain in the ass, no doubt about it. "you have to nail this. There's no room for errors L/n" she scolds.

You give a nod, glancing at yourself in the mirror.

You adjust your pose, making sure everything is on point.

As the musiv starts, you immerse yourself in the flow of it, letting it guide your movements. The music fills the room, your body signaling you exactly what to do. You're in your zone now, giving it your best. It's like you and ballet are in perfect sync–one.

You steal a quick glance at Mrs. Chuu, who's watching you intently. She's got that poker face on, not giving anything away. But deep down, you know she's analyzing every step, every turn, every facial expression–maybe even if a strand of hair lays weird.

From the corner of your eye, you catch sight of your mom walking into the studio. She exchanges pleasantries with Mrs. Chuu before her gaze sets on you. Instantly, nerves kick in.

What if you stumble? What if you miss a step? Your mind starts wandering threatening to throw you off balance.

Suddenly, out of nowhere, there's a loud crash that sounds through the studio. You feel yourself losing balance, and before you know it, you're down on your knees, completely crashed on the floor.

The room falls silent, and you can practically feel the weight of your mom's disapproving gaze tearing you apart.

This is it. You're done for.

You brace yourself for the criticism that's about to rain down on you. She's never going to let you hear the end of it. Shit

Her voice breaks the silence. "Y/n L/n." You don't dare look up, too scared to meet her eyes.

"Not one thing can you do right."

You freeze, not surprised by her harsh comment. It feels like a punch to the gut, though, and your breath hitches. You've been working so hard, giving it your all, and now it feels like it's not enough.

You gather your strength, slowly lift your head, and meet her gaze head-on nodding and standing up again, fixing your outfit. "I'm sorry mom" you whisper close to tears, not of sadness, but of stress.

"I'm leaving. You're such an embarrassment," your mom's cutting words hang in the air as she actually walks out, not even bothering to apologize or offer any reassurance.

The embarrassment settles in, and you feel a wave of humiliation wash over you. Getting yelled at in front of Mrs. Chuu was beyond...uncomfortable

But before you have a chance to dwell on the situation, you feel a comforting hand on your shoulder. It's Mrs. Chuu, her presence bringing a sense of solace. She gives you a small smile.

"Everyone makes mistakes, y/n," she says gently, her voice reassuring. She walks over to your bag and gets your water, handing it to you. "Don't be too hard on yourself. You know how your mom can get. You don't have worry about what just happened."

You nod, grateful for her words of encouragement. Mrs. Chuu has always been there for you, not only as a dance instructor but also as someone who understands the relationship between you and your family and the pressures that come with it.

"Thanks, Mrs. Chuu," you say giving her a sad smile.

-

Kook🩷: how's my girls day going?

Today 5pm

A soft smile forms across your face as you read the text message on your phone, causing a faint blush to colour your cheeks. Sitting on the studio floor, with Mrs. Chuu is already gone. You find yourself lost in the moment, thinking of when you would see Jungkook, your boyfriend, again.

"If you only knew, Kookie..." you whisper to yourself, a sad shine in your eyes, and with a quick press of your fingers on the screen, you type out a response tilting your head.

With newfound energy, you gather your belongings and make your way out the studio.

You: good, Im heading home right now. How was yours?

Today 5:07 pm

Jungkook's brows furrow as he looks down at his phone, his expression shifting into a frown. "Good? Just good?" he mutters under his breath, a sense of confusion creeping in. It didn't add up. He was used to receiving a "very good!" or "amazing."

The simplicity of "good" left him feeling unsettled. Something must be off with yoy. Maybe you were just tired, he tried to convince himself, shaking away the negative thoughts.

Just as he's about to lock his phone, determined to put it out of his mind, a girl, Wendy, interrupts his train of thought with a god awful smile. "Jungkookie, we're all going out for drinks. Will you join us?" she asks, her voice carrying a hint of eagerness.

"No," Jungkook responds abruptly, dismissing her invitation. He swiftly grabs his bag, ready to make his exit. However, Wendy insists, stopping him. Annoyed, he glances back at her, his eyes basically telling her to fuck off already.

"But why not? You did such a great job today," Wendy chirps, her voice slowly getting on his nerves "it's on me!"

There's something about her overly cheery demeanour that rubs him the wrong way. Her piercings and tattoos may give off a rebellious vibe, but Jungkook can see through the facade. She's one of those manipulative bullies who always gets what she wants. He knows she's after him, and he hates the thought of him being with someone other than you.

"I'm going home," Jungkook states firmly, repeating his decision, tone leaving no room for negotiation.

"Who's got you by the balls, huh?" Wendy's real demeanor shines through, but Jungkook isn't fazed. He's seen this side of her before.

She had pushed her limits in the past, causing trouble that led to her being kicked out. This gym is not her personal Tinder playground, where she can just stroll in and pick whoever catches her fancy in the moment.

He meets her gaze with a firm expression, his voice laced with anger. "You wanna get kicked out of here again?" he questions, his tone carrying a warning. He knows exactly what she wants from him.

Wendy smirks, her lips forming an enticing pout. "So you know what I want," she sing-songs taking a step closer to him. "Then why don't you give it to me?" Her voice drips with suggestion, her fingers lightly grazing his chest. It's a calculated move and he knows.

Jungkook's expression hardens as he pushes her away, "Back the fuck off, Wendy. Find someone else to fulfill your needy desires. I'm not down," he growls scanning her from head to toe, already reaching for a cigarette to light up once he's outside the building.

What a fucking day

"Get the fuck off my back," he rolls his eyes, dismissing her presence as he confidently walks away.

"Aish" Wendy is left huffing and stomping her feet in frustration, making her way back to her clique.

-

"...I'm feeling lonely..." you sing, playfully belting out the lyrics to a catchy new song while rummaging through your wardrobe.

It was that time of year again—time to declutter and donate some of your clothes. You realize you've accumulated way too many pieces, and it's always a good feeling to give to those who needed it more. This has become a bit of a tradition for you.

As you're completely engrossed in what you're doing, dancing to the beat of your favourite music–knock

Out of nowhere, there's an unexpected knock on your window that jolts you right out of your daydreamjng. You quickly hit pause on your playlist, and with a hint of curiosity, you cautiously look around "what on earth...?" Walking back into your room making eye contact with none other than the one and only Jeon Jungkook, standing on your balcony once again like he owns the place.

You can't help but feel a mix of excitement and panic. Like, damn, how does this guy manage to pop up at the most unexpected moments? He's like a master of surprises. Your master of surprises.

As you lock eyes with Jungkook, a grin stretches across his face, and you can practically see the mischievous twinkle in his eyes.

"Is this going to be a regular thing now?" you teasingly ask, opening the window and letting him in, Jungkook adjusts his shirt, his expression back to a smile. Hed once again climbed the tree in front of your window just to see you.

"It's the only way I get to see you. Should I start knocking on your door instead?" he playfully retorts, leaning in for a quick "hello" kiss and the surprise of his spontaneous affection leaves you momentarily stunned, your breath hitching at his unexpected gesture.

"I-I was just cleaning out my closet, though... I don't know if that's so interesting for you," you say, walking back to your walk-in closet and settling back down on the floor amidst the pile of clothes.

"I'll help you," Jungkook smirks, joining you and holding up a cute pink top that you hadn't worn in months. He gazes at you with a mischievous twinkle in his eyes. "Try this on for me," he suggests, passing you the shirt.

It was a cute shirt, you remember wearing it for practise once or twice.

"You want me to try this on?" you ask, raising an eyebrow at Jungkook as he holds up the cute pink top. A mischievous glint dances in his eyes, and you can tell he's up to something.

Jungkook smirks, his teasing nature in full bloom tonight. "I just want to see how it looks on you," he replies, shrugging. But Jungkook knew what he was doing.

"Well, if you're that eager to see me in this shirt, who am I to deny you the pleasure?" you tease, talking like one of those girls you went to rpivate school with.

Taking the top from him you head to the bathroom to change making Jungkook poke the inside of his cheek.

As you slip into the pink top, you notice that it fits in all the right places. It looks perfectly fjne, accentuating your figure, and you can't deny that it looks great on you. A smile spreads across your face.

Walking back to where Jungkook is waiting, you strike a playful stupid pose, "So, what do you think sir? Does it pass the test?" you ask, twirling slightly to show off the shirt.

Jungkook's eyes widen as he takes in your appearance, clearly impressed by how the shirt enhances your...boo-chest. He smirks, his gaze lingering on you for a moment before he responds. "You look cute," he admits, his voice filled with genuine adoration.

You feel a warm blush creeping up your cheeks, flattered by his compliment. "Well, I guess this shirt is a keeper then," you say, getting shy again.

"It's not just the shirt, sugar. It's you. You make everything look incredible," he says, his voice laced with affection.

A smile tugs at your lips, and you reach out to gently brush your fingers against his cheek. "You always know how to make me feel special," you whisper, staring into his dark eyes "I really like you Jungkook" you confess, brushing a stray strand of hair back behind his ear.

"I like you even more," he smirks, playfully pulling you onto his lap "A lot more," he teases, causing you to lightly hit his chest and pout in response.

"So, what exactly are you doing here? You know it's risky, Jungkook... my parents..." you say, biting your lip and sitting up straighter, suddenly realizing the seriousness of the situation.

"Well, we'll be fine, sugar. Just be quiet," he reassures you with a smile.

Your eyes widen in disbelief. "Me? Quiet? It's my room!" you complain, shaking your head. "I don't care if they hear me, but seriously, my mom heard you last time. I still can't believe I managed to convince her that there was no one here."

"Because you're my smart girl," he says, raising his eyebrows and playfully pinching your arms. "You're tougher than you look."

You let out a silent sigh, trying to make him understand the seriousnes of the situation.

Taking another piece of clothing from the pile and analyzing it, Jungkook shrugs, saying, "I'm just here because I was bored at home. Can't a boyfriend visit his girlfriend in peace?"

With another playful tap on his chest, you exclaim, "It would be so freaking adorable if my parents wouldn't go all crazy and ruin my life if they found out about us." Frustration lingers in the air as you mindlessly toss the skirt into your "give away" bag, silently hoping to finish decluttering by tonight.

"Seriously, Kookie," you hiff, biting your lip in concern. "Can't you give me a heads-up when you're planning to swing by? It's not always just me in my room, you know." You look at him, your eyes worried.

Jungkook can't help but let out a hearty laugh at your plea, pinching your cheek affectionately. "Kookie, huh? I kinda like that nickname," he admits, before clearing his throat "only from you thoigh, of course"

"Kook..."

Leaning in closer, he whispers, "Alright, alright, I promise I'll try to give you a heads-up next time, sugar," he starts "but you gotta admit, the surprise makes it more thrilling." He smirks, fully aware of the effect he has on you.

You roll your eyes, hitting his arm. "Thrilling, huh? Well, it's not so thrilling when I'm on the verge of a panic attack every time you appear out of thin air." You try to sound annoyed, but a smile tugs at the corners of your lips when you look at him. "Poof" you imitate with your hands "like that"

"I'm sorry, sugar. I didn't mean to scare you. I just can't stop thinking about you, i have to see you, even if it means risking your parents' wrath." He plants a soft kiss on your forehead, his tone still teasing

You melt into his embrace, "I know, Kookie. I can't stop thinking aboutyou either...," you admit, burying your face in his hard chest. "Just... let's try to be a bit more cautious, okay?."

He holds you tighter, "Absolutely, if that's what my pretty girl wants."

In that moment, as you nestle in his arms, you sigh "this is nice, I never got why people hugged so much until now" you smile kissing his nose. "Let's get this done yeah?" You say pointing to the pile of clothes, Jungkook sighing dramatically. "It's so much..."

-

The walk-in closet is an absolute mess it's bursting at the seams with pants, skirts, and shoes. It's like a fashion explosion in here if you were honest.

And right in the middle of all that fashion shit, you find yourself tangled up with Jungkook, his lips eagerly meeting yours and creating audible smacking noises.

What started as a simple decluttering mission has quickly escalated into a full-blown make-out session.

"Wait," you manage to breathe out, lightly tapping his shoulder. "How do people make out for hours on end?" You take a moment to catch your breath, wiping off some of your lipgloss from Jungkook's smirking lips.

"I don't know, never really cared," he nonchalantly shrugs, gripping your waist as you sit on his lap, ready for another round of kissing. But you put a stop to it.

"No, seriously," you insist, "Have you seen those movies? It's insane how they can keep it up for so long!" You start to rant, but Jungkook interrupts you once again.

"Sugar, you're my girlfriend, but respectfully, shut up and kiss me," he playfully bumps his nose against yours. "You're such an interesting girl, you know that?"

"Wow, I'll just take that as a compliment," you say, raising an eyebrow and pursing your lips playfully. Glancing at the clock, which annoyingly showed 11pm, you let out a sigh of frustration. Time was slipping away, and there was still so much left to do.

As you pondered, Jungkook leaned in, his big hand gently squeezing your hip and pulling you closer "Kiss me again." A mischievous smirk played on his lips as he licked them suggestively.

Caught off guard, you bite your lip, glancing around the room. There was still a lot to be done–it far from complete. But, after a moment of consideration, you give in to the temptation.

Okay, fine. Just a bit more You think to yourself.

With a hushed whisper, you let your agreement slip, your voice shy.

Despite the nagging voice in the back of your mind reminding you of the unfinished decluttering, you cave, after all, a little more fun couldn't hurt, right?

Jungkook's lips connected back to yours, and you could feel the intensity of his kiss as his skilled tongue left you breathless. His hands roamed around your body, but always with a respectful touch, only grazing your waist or arm.

With gentle pecks, he playfully nudged his nose against yours, provoking a shy giggle. It felt surreal, as if he couldn't possibly be real.

After a moment, he broke the intimate silence, his voice slightly husky as he asked you, "Hey sugar."

You responded by leaning your head against his hard chest, finding comfort in his embrace.

As you relaxed in his arms, he asked, "Did anything... happen today?" His tone grew more serious, and he cleared his throat, sitting up straighter.

"What? Why do you ask?" confusion formed across your forehead as you furrowed your brows, wondering why he was bringing this up.

He sighed softly, his fingers playing with a stray strand of your hair. "Just because your text seemed a bit off when I asked you about your day earlier" he explained, his eyes searching yours.

Your lips instinctively pressed together as you bit down on them, deep in thought, reflecting on the events of thsi afternoon.

"Everything was fine." you glance at Jungkook, offering a shrug, it was a lie, but you didn't want to burden him with the truthful details of your mom completely losing it.

Jungkook wasn't stupid, and he could tell when you were lying. "Aish" He let out a soft sigh, his fingers gently brushing against your cheek as he tilted your head up to meet his gaze. "Why don't you want to tell me?" he asked, his voice filled with genuine concern.

The soft touch and the way he looked at you made you squirm uncomfortably. You were so used to people not caring about your problems that it felt strange for Jungkook to actually be interested. Did he truly care, or was he just asking out of obligation as your boyfriend? The doubt crept into your mind, leaving you questioning his intentions.

"It's not a big deal," you shrugged, trying to downplay the situation. But, deep down, you knew it bothered you.

Unconsciously, you pulled away slightly, creating a small distance between the two of you.

Jungkook noticed your this and sighed, using his strong arms and pulling you back in.

He leaned in, his lips gently brushing against the side of yours in a tender, affectionate kiss. "It's a big deal if it makes you sad, sugar," he admitted.

Still hesitant, you shrugged again, as if trying to convince both him and yourself. "I messed up at practice today," you finally admitted, your voice frustrated.

"But see, it's not a big deal. It just annoys me," you added, your agitation becoming apparent. You were trying to maintain your independence and not burden him with your struggles, but deep down, you longed for his understanding and support. For comfort.

"Yeah, I get that," Jungkook sighed, leaning his head back against the couch behind him. His eyes scanned your figure, taking in your body language. "I feel the same way sometimes when I lose fights or make mistakes. It's frustrating, but I guess there's nothing we can do about it, huh?" He chuckled lightly, playfully poking your cheek.

"You're incredibly talented, sugar," he stated, his voice sincere and encouraging. "Don't let one slip-up fuck up your mood. Everyone has their off days. It doesn't define you."

He shifted his attention to the chaotic scene of the closet, where piles of clothes were still scattered on the floor. A mischievous grin appeared on his face as he surveyed the mess. "Let's finish this, huh?"

-

"You're in a good mood, Jeon," Chan his trainer, noticed, playfully hitting his side with the boxing glove on his hand. "Finally got laid?" he joked, trying to provoke a reaction, which earned him an even harder hit from Jungkook.

"Fuck off, man. Not everything always has to be about sex," Jungkook scoffed, rolling his eyes.

"Wow, Jeon Jungkook not thinking about sex? What happened to you, man?" Chan couldn't help but laugh at Jungkook's response.

However, he quickly let it go, glancing down at his watch. "It's 5pm already. Do you want to do one more match, or should we call it a day?" he asked, giving Jungkook the option to decide.

A mischievous smirk spread across Jungkook's face as he pondered the question. "Let me beat you up one more time," he replied with a harsh glint in his eyes. He was eager for another round, ready to release his pent-up energy in the ring.

"Damn, just look at him" Wendy lets out a sigh, absentmindedly toying with her lipring as she fixates her gaze on Jungkook's intense fight in the ring. The way his muscles ripple beneath that shirt of his with each punch he delivers is straight-up sexy.

"I mean, seriously, he's smoking hot," another girl chimes in, unable to resist biting her lip and shooting heart-eyed glances in his direction.

Lisa, shakes her head disapprovingly and takes a sip of her soda, "Come on, guys, get real." She rolls her eyes at the infatuated girls, knowing all too well that they're letting their imaginations run wild.

"You're all living in a fantasy world," she scoffs. "Let's be honest here, he's way out of your leagues. That guy probably has biker girls lining up for him, not just groupies like you." She laughs

The girls stand stunned into silence, their jaws practically hitting the floor exchanging bewildered glances "she's such a bitch," the girls mumble in unison as they turn on their heels and walk away, clearly annoyed by Lisa's remarks.

Meanwhile, Lisa can't help but chuckle mischievously, thoroughly enjoying the reaction playfully bumping fists with her girlfriend Jihyo.

"You know, babe, I love it when you drop those truth bombs," Jihyo laughs, planting a tender kiss on lisas cheek.

As their attention returns to the scene unfolding in the ring, Lisa's curiosity gets the best of her "Hey, do you think our dear Kook has a girl hiding that he's not telling us about?"

Jihyo ponders the question, her eyes fixed on Jungkook as he throws punches. "It's definitely a possibility," she responds, shrugging nonchalantly. "I mean, he's been leaving practice early lately, and he even canceled plans with us a few times. Something's up."

Lisa nods, her intrigue growing. "Hmm, interesting. Can't blame him though. If he's that committed to her, she must be someone special—definetly a keeper."

"Alright, alright, you win," Chan spits out, visibly frustrated, as he yanks off his gloves and tosses them aside.

"Didn't you tell me not to overreact when I lose? Yet here you are, Mr. Condescending," Jungkook laughs sarcastically.

He takes a swig of water, relishing in the victory. Disregarding the empty bottle, he casually tosses it into the nearby trash can.

"Fuck ofd" chan rolls his eyes

"Hey, I'm just keeping you on your toes," Jungkook retorts playfully

Chan stares at him, growling something as he walks towards the changing rooms, slamming the door leaving Jungkook behind, a smirk playing on his lips.

Spotting his friend Namjoon nearby, he can't resist extending a victorious fistbump. "Man, winning against our coach? Good job, man!" Namjoon chuckles, the amusement between them evident.

"Fuck yeah, m really showed him who's boss," Jungkook replies, giving Joon a nudge

Casually reaching into his pocket, Jungkook pulls out a cigarette and lights it up with a flick of his lighter. He takes a drag, exhaling a plume of smoke, and then looks at Joon with a raised eyebrow. "You smoking?" he asks, nodding towards the exit inviting him for a quick smoke break.

Joon shakes his head, a hint of resignation in his expression. "Nah, man. I quit. You know how Jinny always bugs me about it," he replies, shrugging his shoulders. He glances at the cigarette dangling between Jungkook's fingers.

"Fair enough," Jungkook responds, taking another drag from his cigarette before flicking the ash away.

As Joon starts to walk away, he rememberes something, prompting him to halt in his tracks "Hey, by the way," he interjects, his voice calm. "When were you planning to let me in on the secret that you've got a girl at home?"

Jungkook's eyes widen, caught off guard by Joon's question. "How'd you dind out?" he asks, his tone filled with curiosity.

Joon smirks, raising an eyebrow "Saw a text message from 'sugar' on your phone earlier," he says.

Jungkook's surprise transforms into a faint smile, a hint of a smile breaking through his tough exterior. "Well, you caught me," he admits.

"As long as you're happy, man," Joon adds, his tone softening. "You seem calmer lately. Must be good for you."

"Mh" Jungkook hums taking another drag

"Gotta go now, see you tomorrow," Jungkook says casually, walking over to his bike and putting on his helmet.

Unbeknownst to him, Wendy and Irene, overhear his words and exchange mischievous glances.

"Did you hear that?" Wendy gasps, her eyes widening with excitement. "A girl? Jeon Jungkook's got a girlfriend!" Her voice is filled with surprise and a hint of jealousy.

"No way," Irene scoffs, crossing her arms and smirking. "Must be some girl for Jungkook to actually commit." She takes a final puff of her cigarette, casually blowing the smoke into the air.

"Right? Seriously, though, which girl hasn't he fucked?" Wendy scoffs, dramatically rolling her eyes. Irene, unfazed, simply shrugs saying "you" earning herself a playful punch in the ribs from Wendy.

"Not yet," Wendy grins mischievously. "Trust me, he'll give in eventually. Girlfriend or not, mark my words." She smirks confidently, swiping her friend's cigarette and taking a drag for herself.

"Okay, whatever," Irene sighs, her eyes rolling in annoyance. "I've got to go pick up my little sis from ballet class now. Catch you later, loser."

-

"One, two, three One, two, three" Mrs. Chuu's voice fills the dance studio, her words sounding over the music. She stands at the front, conducting the ballet class with a keen eye. "Amazing, girls, Keep it up!" she encourages.

Moving carefully, she begins to make her way around the room, inspecting each girl's posture and offering corrections.

"Joy, straighten up, my dear," Mrs. Chuu advises gently, her voice carrying a tone of guidance.

Turning her attention to Mina, Mrs. Chuu raises her voice slightly to be heard over the music. "Not too fast, Mina," she advises.

As Mrs. Chuu walks by Sana, she notices a slight tension in the girl's expression. "Watch your facial expression, Sana," she reminds her.

Then, Mrs. Chuu's gaze falls upon you, "Y/n." Her experienced eyes scan your form from head to toe, evaluating your progress. "You're doing good," she remarks, her words accompanied by a warm smile.

-

Slipping off your worn-out ballet shoes, you let out a heavy sigh, relieved that today's ballet practice was a group session rather than an intense solo session with Mrs. Chuu. Although the pressure seemed somewhat alleviated during group rehearsals, you couldn't deny the exhaustion that rushes through your body.

As you gather your breath, a friendly voice interrupts your thoughts. "Hey, Y/n, can I borrow a pen?" It's Joy, a girl from your class who was around the same age as you.

You respond with a nod, returning her smile. "Sure, Here you go," you say, retrieving a pen from your bag and handing it over.

Taking a moment to catch your breath and stretch your tired muscles, you look at yourself in the mirror, checking your hair and makeup, you were seeing Jungkook after this after all.

A few more moments pass and there's only you and Joy left in the studio, you give her a small smile and type on your phone while she does the same

You: I'm done with practise now, beach later?☺️

Today 6pm

Kookie🩷: can't, im a bit far

Today 6pm

You frown "oh" pouting you type an okay, turning off your phone and gathering your things to head home.

As you lift your gaze, ready to head out, you nearly let out a surprised scream when you spot Jungkook casually leaning against the door of the studio, as if he owns the place.

Your eyes dart towards Joy, still engrossed in her phone, oblivious to the presence of the leather-clad man standing at the entrance.

With wide eyes and a racing heart, you quickly make your way towards the door, feeling a surge of panic.

Without uttering a single word, you grab Jungkook's wrist and guide him into the nearby janitor's room for more privacy and safety from any prying eyes.

"What are you doing here, Jungkook?" you whisper with concern, "You're practically begging to get me into trouble at this point," you add

Jungkook smirks in response, his gaze fixed on you. "Chill, sugar. No one saw me," he reassures leaning in, his intention clear as he moves in for a kiss, but you instinctively stop him, your hand placed firmly against his chest.

"Yet," you scoff, a note of panic creeping into your voice. "No one saw you yet," you repeat, emphasizing the word 'yet'.

Jungkook's smirk fades slightly, "Okay, okay," his tone shifts to a more serious one. "I'll be more careful. I didn't mean to worry you," his voice softened.

Taking a deep breath to steady your nerves, you glance at the door, "We should go back before someone notices," you suggest, grabbing his wrist

"Sugar," Jungkook stops you, tilting his head with a raised brow. "Did I ever tell you that you look cute when you're upset?" His comment manages to both annoy and make you blush.

As he tilts your chin up, his lips meet yours in a gentle kiss, causing your pout to fade away almost instantly. It's hard to stay mad at him for too long.

But reality quickly sets back in, and you regain your serious tone. "We really have to leave," you insist, taking his hand once again, ready to make an exit.

However, he stops you in your tracks with a tilded head

A smirk plays on Jungkook's lips as he raises an eyebrow suggestively. "ever made out in a janitor's closet?" He steps closer, pulling you towards him,

You can't help but blush at his question, a mixture of surprise and curiosity bubbling inside you.

His boldness always catches you off guard. But as tempting as the idea sounds, you try to maintain your compostire, aware of the potential consequences. "Jungkook, we can't just-"

Before you can finish your sentence, his lips find yours once again, interrupting your protests with a kiss. In that moment, all rationality drifsts away as desire takes over.

Eventually, the need for air pulls you both back to reality, as you catch your breath, a small smirk tugs at the corners of Jungkook's lips. "See? Sometimes it's worth taking a little risk," he whispers with satisfaction.

"You're impossible," you mutter, unable to hide the smile on your face.

Irene's heels echoed through the studio, the sharp clacking sounds against the polished marble floor. She nonchalantly popped a gum bubble, her eyes scanning the various rooms in search of the right one. Spotting her sister, Joy, engrossed in her phone, Irene let out a small sigh.

"Yo, sis! Let's bounce. I've got a dick appointment lined up once I drop you off," she muttered, jingling the keys in her hand and waiting for her sister to join her.

Joy frowned, tucking her phone into her pocket and grabbing her bag. "Wait, I thought Mom was picking me up," she said, confusion on her face as she walked towards her sister.

Irene rolled her eyes, the corners of her mouth curling into a sarcastic smile. "Change of plans, i guess," she replied dismissively, eyeing Joy from head to toe. "Nice tutu," she scoffed before strutting off, not bothering to wait for Joy to catch up.

Bit irene's jaw practically hits the floor when she catches sight of Jungkook strolling around the corner, hand in hand with someone whos outfit looks very familiar to her sisters.

Her eyebrows shoot up, and she quickens her pace, determined to catch up with you. With a stupid smirk, she grabs hold of Jungkook's wrists and teases, "Jungkookie, how adorable! So, you're picking up your sister too?"

Chewing her gum with a playful grin, Irene looks up at Jungkook, seemingly unfazed by his intimidating presence.

Meanwhile, your eyes meet Joy's, both of you wearing puzzled expressions, before shifting your gaze back to Irene, who still has her hand on your boyfriend's.

"You're Joy's sister?" you inquire, offering a friendly smile to Irene, hoping to clear up the tension. However, instead of a warm response, you receive a judging glare from her. "Yeah, whatever," she mutters dismissively.

Jungkook rolls his eyes, clearly unimpressed by Irene's behavior, and scans her from head to toe, taking in her shabby outfit.

"Oh? So, she's your cousin then?" Irene continues her interrogation

Quickly correcting her assumption, you speaknup with a bright smile, "No, actually, Jungkook is my boyfriend." The words slip out confidently

Irene momentarily stops chewing her gum, her eyes judging your appearance from head to toe. With a burst of laughter, she mocks, "That's the girl? Seriously? You've been leaving practice early for... her?" The sound of her laughter makes your brows furrow in confusion.

What was wrong with the way you looked?

"Irene, enough," Jungkook interrupts, his voice dripping with anger. He tightens his grip on your hand, his face agitated.

Without wasting another moment, he starts walking out, with you hand in hand, slamming the entrance door shut behind him with you.

As you step outside, the fresh air hits your face. Jungkook squeezes your hand reassuringly, breaking the silence. "Don't pay attention to her," he says, his voice soft yet determined, as if trying to shield you from Irene's hurtful words.

Before you can even gather your thoughts, you find yourself about to ask what the actual fuck just happened, but his words stop you in your tracks.

"She's one of the girls that goes to my gym, don't mind her, I've never-" he starts "I didn't have sex with her or anything" he finishes, "I promise."

You nod slowly, your lower lip involuntarily pouting as you stare at the ground. "Why was she so mean to me?" you murmur, feeling a wave of hurt wash over you.

In that moment, you release Jungkook's hand, your fingers no longer intertwined with his.

Jungkook lets out a sigh, his expression softening as he reaches up to brush away a stray strand of hair from your face. "Irene's friend has been trying to make a move on me," he explains, his voice tinged with frustration. He then cups your chin gently, lifting your gaze to meet his. "But you know I would never cheat on you, right?" he asks earnestly, his eyes searching for yours.

You take a moment to absorb his words, looking into his eyes. "Of course I know that, Kookie. I trust you completely. It was just... very sudden." Your words are laced with irritation, as you remind yourself that Irene's words should mean anything to you

Feeling a sense of relief, Jungkook pulls you closer, his arms wrapping around you like he always did. "Shes a mean girl" he murmurs, his voice filled with spite. "I'm sorry you had to go throug that, that's the reason I don't... I don't mention you around the gym, the poeple there... they can be harsh" he admits poking your rib to cheer you up.

"Please, don't ever think I'm damn embarrassed of you or anything like that," Jungkook says, his voice filled with sincerity. He steps back slightly, his eyes locked onto yours, his gaze unwavering. "You're my girl, and I'm gonna do whatever it takes to keep you safe and sound."

His words wash over you, and a small smile tugs at the corners of your lips as you take in the sincerity behind his words. The weight on your shoulders seems to lighten just likebthat.

Wrapping your arms around Jungkook, you lean into his embrace, resting your head against his chest. "I know"

SERIES MASTERPOST

@kooliv @sexymenandcuteanimals101 @tatyhend @idontevenknow75 @dunixxd @saweetspoiled @codeinebelle @telepathytae @faepurity @koobsessed @jooniesxbby @bebejungkook @sxtaep @janedukiesworld @outro-kook @grasstrainerjoonie @ziko @jungshook7 @zerocge @dodoneck @beahonomo @jiimtaee @nervoustyphoonpersona @fan-ati--c @koobsessed @nucleo-bang-tan @sincerelyflora @lil-sracha @sweetonkookieandtae @exactlygreatcoffee @hoseokteardrop @aeonianamour @chaelvrx @genkima @gamer-carat @seokjinspinkslipper @kelsyx33 @loveejkk

damn

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

''The Dreamer'' Aemond Targaryen x OC Series Masterlist

summary: Daenys Velaryon, the brown-haired second child of Rhaenyra and Laenor, travels to King's Landing with her family to visit the King, her grandfather, and to witness Jacaerys' and Baela's wedding. As tensions between house Targaryen rise, Daenys and Aemond cross paths once again, and the prince discovers an annoying attraction to the Velaryon girl. (AU where the Dance doesn't happen because I said so and I just wanted to write an Aemond fanfic that isn't too complicated lol)

ship: aemond targaryen x original female character

info: targ!cest, uncle/neice

part 1

part 2

part 3

part 4

part 5

part 6

part 7

part 8

part 9

part 10

part 11

𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐞𝐭 𝐮𝐩 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 ↴

𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆: you've been one of the pogues since childhood, and your loyalty has always lied within your friend group, who is practically your family. when a threat by the name of rafe cameron begins to threaten the pogue's plans, they assign you to gain the trust of the dubious kook and keep an eye on what he's up to. however, now it's been six months since your friends set you up to spy on the kook prince himself, but what you didn't anticipate was to fall head over heels for the boy. your relationship had soon become inviolable shortly after your guys' first exchanges, much to your friends' dismay, and you two became practically inseperable. that was, until rafe discovers the truth.

genre: angst, smut, fluff

warnings: contains mature themes, violence, substance abuse, alcohol use, addiction, sexually explicit scenes, assault (non-sexual)

↪ one

↪ two

↪ three

↪ four

↪ five

↪ six

↪ seven

↪ eight

↪ nine (coming soon)

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