Prologue
Prologue
Synopsis: She was a lady born into French royalty and the royal court where she was highly beloved, only to meet her end at a young age and became a forgotten figure to history. The end she met became her stroke of fate as she was given a second chance to live again, forever. This is the story about (Y/n) De Auclair’s life where her new life gave her an adventure with a family and love that she never thought she would gain.
↳Jasper Hale x OC! Reader
Word count: 3k (3,055) words
Taglist: currently open; 5/10 positions (will be added more if more people are interested)
Content warnings: blood mentioned, drinking/ hunting for blood mentioned, Jasper feeling weird, & that’s all, but let me know if I missed any!
Moulage pt.3 ⚜️ Masterlist ⚜️ Chapter 1: Il Était Une Fois
Winter.
A period of quiet reflections and new beginnings of a new year as an old year ends.
The season is associated and centered with darker topics than the rest of the others. The cold and dark are the main symbols of the winter with despair seen as the last symbol. Usually, it can also be viewed as survival and the end of life as many living beings die or prepare to survive the harsh season to live to see gentle spring.
However, many may see it as a warning of their loneliness arriving soon. Not having anyone to enjoy the events that occur in the winter and having to be alone. Which might make them feel the longline with the view of seeing those around them be happy.
The winters in New York were known for their soft powdery snow that if it was picked up, would fall like pixie dust from your hands. The city’s snow had the purest white color out of all the states as it hails from their sky. From their sky, formed fluffy white clouds that were now a light gray, glooming over the state in exchange to produce their pure snow. And with that, it’s how the people of the city begin to change their daily routine from summer to winter.
Once the first snowfall lays on the ground, that's when the people of New York exchange their thin clothing for thicker clothes and the holiday festivities start. Every inch and corner of the city was to be covered by snowfall, as December started. Leaving their crystal water lakes and ponds to become frozen and turned into ice rinks for the people to enjoy. Snowmen with tophats and carrot noses start to appear on the sidewalk and parks, greeting those who walk by. Hot chocolate stands start to pop up around neighborhoods making the children beg their parents to buy them a cup.
However, the most popular and well-known holiday activity to do once early December hits is to watch the Nutcracker. It had become one of the favored Christmas time activities once it became introduced in the 1940s. The city was known for its performing arts and theater centers, so of course, the nutcracker was a new performing arts event that had now been added to the city's list. Almost every family tries to see it every year allowing ballet companies to extend show dates. Even travelers from different states come to New York to see it as there was a high chance no company there will host it.
Coming down from the upper north was a trio, a group of nomad vampires that contained two males and one girl. With one of the males being the mate of the girl. The three of them traveled not far to enter the city, wearing light winter clothing on their bodies compared to the New Yorkers. They got glances from the people as they walked by due to that, but the cold does not bother them as being a vampire and dead contributes to that factor.
The group of vampires was in the city for one reason only, which was to watch The Nutcracker, and then they could go back home. The only woman in the group, Charlotte, had convinced the two to watch the ballet as a way to celebrate the holidays. Of course, Peter, her mate, and Jasper, her close friend, had agreed to make her happy, which they did. As it was now why the trio was walking through the streets of New York City to the theater.
"It's up ahead on the street,” Charlotte exclaimed, gripping her mate’s hand tightly that making him wince. She picked up her pace to walk faster, dragging Peter with her who cannot take her excitement. As it is why, he hasn't said a word about her grip on him, so he wouldn't make her replace her excitement with guilt.
Peter looked behind him to lock eyes with his best friend, Jasper, as a way to plead with him to use his powers over Charlotte. He did love her and her excitement for the activity that they were going to do, but he could only handle so much of her. It was a way to calm her down before she would accidentally expose her abilities as a vampire due to her excitement. As well as Peter who was being treated as a rag doll by her the entire time of walking to the water with Jasper slightly behind them.
Jasper’s red eyes looked back at his friends with a hidden amusement behind them and a small smile on their faces. He just shook his head no to the side as his friend's antics entrained him. He did not want to be scolded by an angry Charlotte since she would know that he used his power on her. The reaction of Peters's face dropped at his answer made him let out a small chuckle from his lips with Peter not as amused as him.
And right before the trio’s eyes was the magnificent Palace theater located in the middle of the City. The Nutcracker's name was displayed out front of the building with the flashing bright lights lit up around it. People were dressed up in their formal evening wear as the sun had begun to set and were entering the venue. It made the three feel a little undressed, but they didn't care either way.
Charlotte began to walk towards the theater like a child in a candy store with Peter in hand as the giant lollipop.
While Jasper had a slower pace while walking to enjoy the scenery of the city as it was his first time there. His eyes roamed through the sights, the buildings, and the entire area around him until something caught his eyes. it was the ballet's official poster plastered onto the wall to show off to any on-lookers or to those that pass by.
The poster showed a single ballerina dressed in an icy blue-pink outfit and pink pointe shoes on her feet. A large award-winning smile appeared on her face as her light-colored eyes stared to the side. Her entire body was supported on one-pointed foot with the other behind her at a 90-degree angle and her arms reaching out. Above her body read the New York City Ballet company that represents Nutcracker with the dates, but it did not include who was the dancer on the poster.
Jasper could not help but felt intrigued by the poster that show the ballerina. He felt some type of feeling inside his body that he could not put his finger on and describe.
Expect, it might just be his hunger warning him to feed soon as he is surrounded by humans whose blood is pumping through their bodies. It also does not help that the ballerina has her neck stretched out showing her pale white skin that seems to glisten under the poster. It made his mouth somewhat water at the sight of her neck.
Yup. Jasper has to go hunting after this event with Charlotte and Peter. His hunger would probably get worse over time later, but he only gets that feeling when looking at the poster. He shook off that feeling when he heard Charlotte from afar saying his name, thanks to his vampire hearing.
“Jasper! Come on! We have to go inside and find our seats,” Charlotte quickly explained, still excited about the ballet even as they stood outside the venue.
Peter smiled moving his head towards the theater as a way to tell his friend to hurry up. He's also still in his mate’s tight grip as he just wants Jasper to catch up, so they could go inside and be free once they sit down.
Jasper looks forward to where the couple is and smiles at them. When he walks away from the poster, he could not help but felt weird letting go of that feeling he had. It felt sudden for it to go away quickly once he looked away and took one step back from it. The occurrence and feelings had slightly disturbed him but left it alone as he goes to keep up with the others.
The trio had entered the venue that was covered in Christmas and snow-related decorations as it was now the holidays. They were amazed by the popularity and cheer it brought to people while walking through the crowd. The inside contained a sea of people who were entering and leaving the restrooms or theater. It was rather a tight squeeze to navigate through for the three but they were able to go towards the theater and found their seats easily thanks to an available seat attendant.
Once they were seated and comfortable, they stared around the theater taking in the view as everyone started to get into their seats. Their view was perfect from where they were sitting, the seats were in the middle of the theater on the floor. It allowed them to set their eyes on the stage which was centered perfectly in the middle with no one's head blocking any one of them. Not to mention, their sight was enhanced as well due to being a vampire. Therefore, allowing them to see the stage in perfect vision with every detail noticeable to their deep red-colored eyes.
Charlotte's eyes could not help but stare at everything inside the theater and the stage. The scenery was completely new to her as she has never seen anything like this even before turning. "Isn't this place just beautiful to look at?“ loudly sighed the woman whose shoulders moved down from her question. "It is just gorgeous to look at,” Charlotte said, before adding, “even though we are a tad underdressed for this event.” Her hand slid down from Peter's upper limb to his forearm, slightly squeezing it while her eyes moved away from the stage and then to the other two.
That brought the two’s attention from what they were staring at to now her. They mentally agreed with her being underdressed, but they didn't care either way.
Jasper made a small hand gesture towards their surroundings commenting, “I do have to admit that I've never been in a place like this when I was with Maria."
"I've seen places like this in newspapers, but now I'm able to experience it. And with you two,” Peter added, patting Jasper's shoulder and squeezing his lover's thigh gently. He looked at Jasper due to him not leaving the Mexican coven not long ago and haven't been exposed much. So, he had to ask, “are you doing alright? Especially, with the huge crowds of people.”
Jasper gave him a small smile before answering, “I'm alright. Probably might have to hunt later after this." However, he didn't have the need or feeling to hunt for the next few days but just in case something might happen.
Peter nodded and was going to answer, but the music started to play aloud from the orchestra pit allowing the notes to fill the room. Which made Charlotte tug on his sleeve and her finger on her lips to hush the two. Their attention went towards the giant red curtain on stage as they wait for it to be drawn up.
The music began to reach the people's ears making their voices die down along with the mutters until it went completely silent. Now, the only thing being heard in the room was the music of the Nutcracker being played. The curtain was now being drawn up allowing the audience to see the set of the stage as the Nutcracker has officially now begun.
The Nutcracker in Jasper's opinion was that it was wonderful and entertaining to watch. Expect, the show just finished its first act which was about 40 minutes to an hour long, before they announced a short ten-minute intermission before they would move on to act two. It allowed the audience a small break to sneak in a stretch from sitting down or buying a snack before the show resumes again.
A couple of the trio had gone to see if any items of the show were being sold while Jasper stayed in his seat. He did enjoy the dancers and the show, but he could not get over the feeling from earlier. His body wanted to feel that urge and emotion he felt when he stared at that poster. He knew that he would be bothered about this until he could figure out what is happening.
As Jasper was deep into his thoughts, an announcement was made stating that the show would start soon and would like people to get back to their seats before the curtains are drawn back up. He noticed his friends coming back from the outside to where he was as the audience began to fill back up. And he began to mentally prepare himself for act two of the Nutcracker with how long it would be before another break was given.
Expect, a certain presence had appeared in his surroundings that he did not notice earlier and now sensed in the building. The presence was not quite strong around him, but he could feel it and wanted to just hunt it down. However, he could not just drop his plans with his best friends and leave early in the show. Jasper could only hope that the presence would stay until the end of the show and he could track the being with that presence.
The giant red curtains had drawn back up showing a now decorated land of sweets with the dancers in different costumes and the music playing loudly as ever. Everything was wonderful as Clara and the prince appeared again and the people welcomed him back with Clara. Multiple dances were being performed Jasper noticed the presence from earlier now became stronger.
He looked down at the booklet given to him earlier that contains the performances in the acts and started to go through them. His blood-red eyes went past act one towards act two seeing that the Waltz of the flowers was more than halfway done. A pas de deux dance next contains a guest soloist appearance as one of the important roles, the Sugar Plum Fairy.
Jasper looked back up noticing the waltz of flowers had finished with the music now changing into the iconic Dance of the Sugar Plum Fairy. The corps de ballet had moved back slightly from the center with smiles still on their faces. While Clara and the prince haven't moved and only looked in the direction of a new performer coming on stage.
The fairy's Cavalier had now appeared on stage where he smiled with his hand out to the side where he had come out of. This made everyone look to where his hand was reaching out to. A small pale hand reached out to the Cavalier’s hand, grasping it which allowed him to walk forward out to the center stage. He guided the person out behind him to show the one and only, Sugar Plum Fairy.
As they made it to the center of the stage, the two began to dance together to the music being played.
He noticed that the presence had become the strongest yet with a scent now appearing to his senses as it filled his nose. A soft, sweetly fresh aroma of white raspberries being freshly picked, daisy petals that are plucked, and a hint of sugar base musk pulled Jasper in. As soon as that fragrance hit him, all he wanted to do was pull that person with the scent towards him and hug them. it made his eyes almost black and roll back due to the feeling as the aroma did not help him.
When he got out of his trance, his red eyes located the owner of that intoxicating aroma and it landed right at the Sugar Plum Fairy. She had gorgeous (h/c) hair pulled back into a middle bun that was decorated in sparkles and a crown on top. it exposed her extended pale neck candy necklace wearing as a large smile appeared pink colored lips that reached her golden eyes. Her body had a beautiful handmade icy blue tutu with pink accents shown on the bodice and tutu.
Her skin seemed to sparkle brightly underneath the stage lights with every movement onstage. Her feet had on pointe shoes that looked to be new as she stood on the box of them, separating way from her cavalier. She became the diamond of the entire production as her partner went beside her to hold her waist to guide her.
Her features had away Jasper's attention the moment his eyes met her body and it never left her movements. When she extended any part of her body, it created the illusion of her being taller. The way she smoothly did the movements of the dance across the stage made it seem like it was easy to do. Especially, as if she had done it in her entire life just doing this single role. No mistakes could have been made with her being cast and only seemed perfect to the audience. Everything that the ballerina had done seemed flawless while captivating the audience, especially Jasper.
The entire time, the fairy was on stage, his eyes would not leave her, whether it be standing on stage or dancing he would only stare at her. He felt that if he looked somewhere she would leave and leave the faint smell of her scent behind. Inside, he knew that she would become important to him which was why his eyes were glued to her.
It was time for the final bows as every performer had bowed in order of their appearance. The only one left was the Sugar Plum Fairy as she walked to the front and went on one knee to the side, bowing deeply. The audience cheered loudly at her sight with Jasper standing up for her as he clapped loudly. While not moving his eyes away once.
As she moved her head back up, her golden eyes scanned the audience, only to meet blood-red eyes in return, right as the curtains were drawn back down.
Moulage pt.3 ⚜️ Masterlist ⚜️ Chapter 1: Il Était Une Fois
Fun facts:
Charlotte had to beg Peter and Jasper for weeks to see this ballet since November and the two agreed within the first week of December. (They cave in once she became very upset and acknowledged her weeks of asking).
Every poster (the one Jasper had seen) had to be hand painted after getting off the press where they had to match (Y/n)’s skin tone and paint over any of her skin showing as those parts seemed to be sparkling too much from the lights and flashes that it seemed to be too much for the eyes. No one could figure out had to fix it, even with the lighting until one suggest this idea.
Peter and Charlotte noticed Jaspers gaze at the poster and wondered why he was frozen like that, but they knew it wasn’t his thirst, so it had to be something else. *spoiler* they will later realize why after the show (this will be later written in the series, but not sure when)
Charlotte's begging to see the ballet is actually based off from a real life event experience that the author,Luvblue, had did where she begged her dad to see Sleeping Beauty the ballet with cousins which he would later agree to let her and brought the tickets.
A/n: Yay, the prologue is done no I hope you’re satisfied with it! The original idea for the prologue came from a fun fact I was going to publish, but transformed it into the prologue. As well as saying that updates will be very slow due to my writing process and other personal stuff (school and family and etc) that would take a majority of my time. I hope you enjoy the fun facts and the series so far!
Disclaimer: ©luv-tiffanyblue 2022 rights reserved-please do not repost/translate/modify/copy my work on other platforms unless changed in rules! Please look at my info about my other writing platforms!
🏷 : @superkittywonderland @darlincvllen @xcharlottemikaelsonx @xanniestired666 @who-actually-cares-anymore
More Posts from Ccallistata and Others
girl? I just woke up and I'm already crying my eyes out😭😭😭😭😭
I was all over her.
pairing: Aemond Targaryen x female! reader
warnings: angst, sad Aemond, minor spoilers from hotd s2 ep 2, 3, and 4, not much smut but MDNI!!
WC: 4517
summary: when the world turned their back on him, she didn’t.
Don't know what I wanted, I have a memory
Throughout Aemond’s life, he remembers how much he wanted to be seen.
By his father,
by his mother,
by his brother,
by the whole world.
He wasn’t the heir to the throne, he didn’t have a dragon like his brothers or sister. He was weak and nothing. He spend his days being teased and bullied relentlessly by his brother and nephews. They had venomous tongues and big sharp teeth. He hated the way he is.
But when the world turned their back on him, one person remained.
She was a Tyrell, born not long after his mother gave birth to his youngest brother Daeron. His grandsire and mother are close to her parents since the Tyrells and Hightowers are two houses that are closely related.
When he first met her back in oldtown, he saw her as a meek and shy young girl. He hated it. Because it reminded him of himself. But his hatred grew when he saw how well she gets along with Aegon, Daeron, even Helaena. Maybe he doesn’t hate her, maybe he just hates how he’s nothing like her.
Likeable.
Then it all changed in one summer evening.
He was reading at the great library of oldtown, away from the world as he read about his great ancestors of old valyria and dragons. Dragons he longed to have. Like Aegon with sunfyre, Helaena with Dreamfyre, even Daeron with Tessarion. Then he heard a thud.
Looking back from his seat, he saw no one was in the empty library but him.
When he returned to his book, he heard another thud.
Shutting the book with frustration, he began to look for the source of the sound that disturbed his peace. Walking deeper between old tall shelves, he took a turn to the left and saw…her.
Younger and smaller than him, but the Tyrell girl grunts as she climbs the bookshelf. Strong but mighty. The way her silly tongue sticks out as she’s so persistent to reach a book at the tallest shelf. He cleared his throat as he looked down, noticing many books had been scattered around the floor for her to climb.
She turned to him with a surprise stare.
“Prince Aemond!”
As a child, she squeaks like a squirrel
Aemond thought to himself.
“What are you doing up there?” Aemond asks curiously. “I..I’ve been trying to reach that book!” She says as she still tries to reach the book at the highest shelf.
“You will hurt yourself,” Young Aemond sighs.
“Can you help me, my prince?” she asks as she jumps down from the shelf.
“No-“
“Please!”
“Absolutely not-“
“You’re far much taller than me!” She says pointing at his height.
Even as children, he has always been taller than her.
Aemond sighs, knowing what he’s about to do.
And he did it.
Not for his own pride, but for her.
“Oh thank you!” She thanked him with a smile when he easily reached and took the book she’s looking for. The girl hugged the huge book in her arms. “It wasn’t a big deal, whatever,” Aemond says, acting nonchalant while he dusts off his clothes. “It is though, I wouldn’t have been able to reach that book if you weren’t here!” She says with a bright smile.
Heat rose up to his cheeks. No one ever ‘relied’ on him before.
“Biarvose,” he muttered under his breath, not wanting her to know. But she heard him and tilted her head with curiosity. “Are you speaking high valyrian? It sounds lovely! Can you teach me?!” She asks cheerfully.
“What, no I’m not-“
“Please! I want to at least learn something new!” The girl says excitedly. Before he could answer, she grabbed his arm and dragged him to their seats in front of the fireplace. “I’m a fast learner, I promise!” She says as she sits down beside him with a smile.
Can’t believe he’s doing this.
But…it felt nice. The way she wanted him to teach her. She could’ve asked Aegon or Daeron…yet she chose him.
“It’s…”
He mentioned her name. He liked how her name rolled off his tongue.
“…Tyrell, right?”
She nods.
And since that day, and for the whole summer he taught her high valyrian in the library. Word by word, he was patient to teach her. He hates to admit it but she actually was a fast learner.
She was his first true friend.
She was the first person who makes him feel like he has a purpose in life.
Until they took his eye.
Just a year after he knew her, by the time he turned 10 he had claimed Vhagar, the largest and oldest dragon in Westeros. But for a price, which was his eye.
He became the same boy who hated the world.
Never came back to oldtown or any places except the red keep. Afraid what the world might say about him. How ugly he looked with his scar, one of his eye missing, but most of all he was afraid of what SHE might say about him. Afraid of rejection, how she’ll stop spending time with him.
His thoughts were interrupted when his mother came inside his chambers. Bringing in the young Tyrell.
“Aemond, she’s here to see you,” Alicent says, in a slight pleading tone. For he has shut himself out from the world when the maester stitched him. It hurts and it will hurt even more if he knew that all that people will see in him was a monster.
“Go away,” he says coldly, his chair facing away from the door.
“Are you feeling any better?” Her sweet gentle voice asks as Alicent has her arm around the little girl.
Sometimes he just wants to run and hug her for comfort. For she was his escape from this cruel world. Her optimism makes him alive. He didn’t want to lose that.
“I said go away,” his hands gripped the arms of the chair.
“I brought you-,”
“I SAID GO AWAY!” He shrieks, stepping down from his chair and throwing his cup at her direction as he turns around, accidentally showing her his scar. His true self.
Alicent quickly tried to shield the young girl as she screamed. Shielding her from him.
From him.
“Aemond!” Alicent scolded her son.
Yet his mother’s scolding didn’t matter to him. He saw his friend’s…his only friend terrified expression. He scared her. He hurt her. Just like how the world hurt him.
He took a step back.
“I…I’m sorry,” he says lowly before returning to his chair.
He wanted to cry. But it hurts if he does.
Then he heard slow and tiny footsteps.
And she…she placed a toy dragon at the table. As her hands tremble.
“I carved Vhagar for you…father taught me how to carve.”
The young girl says bravely. Yet Aemond wasn’t brave enough to meet her eyes. Not after he hurt her. So he says nothing.
“Get well soon, my prince,” she curtsied and hurriedly returned to the Queen. Leaving him alone in his cold and empty room. Only the sound of crackling fire filled the room. Aemond loved silence but this time…he hated it.
So he reached out, taking the wooden figure of his dragon into his hands. And by the time Queen Alicent returned to his chambers, she found her son asleep in his chair.
Holding the little dragon in his hands, close to his chest.
-
Back at that party, I was all over her
The death of Prince Lucerys Velaryon was at his fault and he couldn’t deny it any more.
Kinslayer. Thats what they call him now.
His betrothal to one of Borris Baratheon’s daughter came to an end once Vhagar snapped her sharp teeth onto Vermax’s body. No one wanted to marry a Kinslayer.
A crippled and a kinslayer.
What a fucking combo.
But he firmly believed that everything that has happened to him was meant to be. Because if it weren’t for it, he wouldn’t be shaped as he is now. And he has to be better. Every sword training, every lessons, and at every war..he must be the best.
But that little boy inside of him still clings onto him till this very day.
Especially when his mother mentioned her name.
For he shall now marry her to strengthen the allieagance between their house and the Tyrells. They needed this. And he shall do it for them.
He convinced himself it wasn’t personal and he doesn’t wish to meet her and just arrange the marriage ceremony. Secretly afraid for what she’ll think of him now.
A kinslayer, a cripple…a monster.
For they have not met again since that very night in his chambers.
And when he saw her gain at the grand sept for their wedding, may the gods help him.
She has grown into a woman. Not a young child anymore.
She smiled to her family, giving them a nervous thin smile.
Does he makes her nervous?
Does he scare her?
The ceremony was done in the sept. Not a grand wedding like any royal ceremony would be for they are at war and it’s ignorant if they host a grand wedding in the midst at war.
He couldn’t help but to stare how different she is now. How reserved and mature her body language is as she gracefully walks around with her long dress dragging through the cold stones of the sept. She was…beautiful.
“My prince,” she says as she curtsied. Even her voice has changed. Now it felt as if honey were dripping down her tongue.
“My Lady,” he greets back stoically. Not wanting her or anyone to read his mind.
“How are you, my prince?” she whispers as the ceremony begins. Still making small talk as always, yet he yearns for it. He’s deeply grateful that she still wants to talk to him. Yet it has been awhile since he properly talked to her, it made him nervous. “I am well,” he whispers back. His healthy eye looked into hers as they were pronounced husband and wife. He finds nothing but nostalgia in her eyes. She is just how he remembered her.
-
We didn't make out or do anything
I just remember I was lonely
He didn’t like the idea of a bedding ceremony.
Where people would see him…and her.
It’s unnatural…and unfitting.
So he ordered for the bedding ceremony not to be done. But he promised that he shall take her that night and they can inspect the bedsheets in the morning.
When he stepped into her chambers, he found her anxiously standing beside the bed. A weird tense atmosphere swept the room.
“I..,” she wants to speak.
“I would like to say thank you for…not letting the bedding ceremony to happen-“
What is this? Does she not want everyone to see us together?
His anxious mind and overthinking took power over him.
“Who said it was done for you?” He snapped at her as he closed the door.
Shit. He did it again.
And she was quiet once more.
I scared her again.
“But…still…I still want to thank you…my pr-“
“Husband,” he sternly says walking past her.
“Pardon?”
He took a jug filled with wine and poured it onto his empty cup. He at least needed a cup of wine if he wanted to bed her right.
“I am your husband now, am I not?” He asks, not looking at her.
“Oh yes…husband,” she says with a nod, fiddling her skirt.
Aemond turned around and took off his attire and was left with his tunic, yet she just stood there beside the bed, not being able to move.
She was nervous.
He looked at her, unsure what he should do. Should he comfort her? Should he take her quickly so they didn’t have to endure this pain together? No- no no no he didn’t want to hurt her.
Then he saw her slowly opening her nightgown. Her hands trembling like when he hurt her as a child. She slips her nightgown over his chest-.
It’s been awhile since he saw a woman’s body.
The last time was…..was…
“Stop.”
She curiously looked up to him, only halfway through from being naked. “I-is there something wrong?-.”
“No,” he quickly answered, looking down with shame.
Yes. There is something wrong.
When Aegon took him to that brothel…at the age of 13..he…he couldn’t- it scarred him.
She’s not like them. She’s not like that whore.
It’s only her, it’s just her!
His mind battling inside his head as he stood at the other side of the bed. He blamed Aegon for ruining something that should be meaningful for a man and woman. Ruining something that should’ve been meaningful for him and her. He blamed the brothel, he blamed his brother, and foremost he blamed himself.
He can’t bed her.
Not like this.
“We must…do our duty,” he says, trying to mask his insecurity and vulnerability in front of her. Trying to mask the same 13 year old boy who was terrified when he stepped into the brothel for the first time.
He didn’t dare to look up. He didn’t want to see her being disgusted by hi-
“Yet you don’t want to,” her voice was gentle and kind. Not a hint of mockery at sight.
“I-“
“I don’t want to do this either.”
He looks up, finding her shielding her chest with her nightgown. That sight aroused him terribly. He wanted to touch her, wanted to make her happy and satisfied. He wanted to make her smile. Yet he saw the same little girl that admired him as a child. He didn’t want to fuck her, he wanted to make love with her.
But he didn’t know how to.
So he just…stood there. The two of them stood there and said nothing.
Just as he thought all hope was lost, she puts on her nightgown and stepped away from the bed.
She’s leaving.
She’s disgusted by me.
“What are you-.”
She took a butter knife and roughly slits her palm, letting blood drip to the bed.
He stared at her.
“There. They’ll think I lost my maidenhead,” she says with a little smile plastered on her face. “No one will know.”
His eye drifts into her still bleeding palm. He groaned walking towards her, ripping a cloth and wrapped her bleeding palm with it. “Mittys,” he muttered under his breath. She chuckles, “You haven’t taught me that word yet.”
And for the first time in a lifetime, a genuine amused smirk was plastered across his face. “Stay still,” he ordered, tightening the cloth on her palm.
When he was done, she gazed up at him for a moment. “How long has it been?” She suddenly asked. “I have not been counting,” Aemond replied, still holding her scarred hand. She slowly then pulled him to bed, sitting down. “You must stay for awhile. Or else they’d be suspicious.”
Gods be good.
She was too kind for him.
And he joined her, laying on the bed side by side. He wonders if she’s still afraid of him as their hands brushed against each other. He never realized how much he craved for her touch. Wondering what it feels like to be held by her. Would she be gentle? Or would she push him away?
“Usōven,” he muttered, looking at her. Apologizing for that night.
She turned her head to look at him. And smiled.
“I forgive you.”
-
I guess I am always, it's not a problem
It's just something, I got used to it
It got worse.
His yearning for her.
He was afraid to touch her, for he did not want to touch her like a whore. She was his equal. He didn’t want to hurt her.
So he lets all of his frustration to Madame Sylvie. He was attached to her even before his wife returned to his life, yet her presence made him worse. With the war…and his guilt for the death of Lucerys…and now the presence of her…it frustrates him. Every single time he fucks that whore, he thinks of her. He imagined that it was her in bed.
Imagined that it was her holding him.
At Least he could keep her safe from him.
He didn’t mean for it to happen. He never meant for it to happen in the first place.
But when he returned from his sins back to his sacred sanctuary, he finds nothing but horror in the keep.
They murdered his nephew.
Prince Jaehaerys.
A son for a son.
It was his fault his nephews were dead.
It was supposed to be him who’s dead. Whose head should be beheaded. Not his nephew. Not anyone.
After inspecting his chambers, he rushed to his wife’s room. Finding her in bed, holding Helaena and Jaehaera as the three girls cried. He saw how terrified the three of them were, but he noticed how she cradled his sister and his niece. Whispering nothing but reassurance to them. “It’s okay, they’re gone now…you’re both safe,” he heard her. She has always taken care of Helaena and the kids well.
Noticing his presence, his wife looked up, finding him unable to move from the doorway. She lets go of her grieving sister in law and niece as she walks to him. Her eyes were teary and red.
Oh how he hates to see her cry.
He looks down at her, cupping her cheek with one hand.
“Where were you?” Her question rang through his ear as her voice cracked on the last word she spoke. Guilt consumed him- no. Guilt starts to eat him slowly but surely. Eating him alive as her wife, her sister, his niece, and his brother grieve for the death of the young innocent prince. He couldn’t say a word, instead hugging his wife tight as she cried into his chest. Sobbing loudly as the castle was filled with darkness. Not a light of hope in sight.
“No one will hurt you. I swear it to you. I’m here..i’m here,” he whispers to his wife as she cried.
He might’ve gotten used to the pain people put on him, but he realized that he would never ever get used to seeing her cry.
He would never let anyone hurt her.
He would protect her from the cruel world.
Even from himself.
-
Every stranger makes me feel safer
And every person seems more beautiful
“I do regret that business with Luke, I lost my temper that day. I am sorry for it.”
“They used to tease me, y’know? Because I was different.”
He knew he should be seeking comfort from his wife, but he couldn’t. As much as she makes him feel like him…he was still afraid his wife would see right through him. To judge him. So he couldn’t. Not to her.
He feels safer in the arms of a whore, who has no power over him. While his wife, she had all the power to control him if she could.
Nights went on and he sneaked out secretly. And no one knew. He was safe. His secret was safe.
Until Aegon…had to ruin everything like he always did.
Humiliating him was always his brother’s hobby.
Blinded with anger, he stomps and storms back to the keep. Wanting his brother and the world to disappear. He wanted to be alone. He hated everything. Yet he didn’t realize that a certain someone was still awake.
Closing Helaena’s bedroom door, lady Tyrell exits the queen’s bedroom for Helaena finds comfort from her sister in law. Just as she wanted to call it a night, she’s standing face to face with no other than her husband.
“Aemond,” she says in surprise.
He froze. He didn’t know what to say. All the rage and humiliation were gone in an instant. His face was covered with guilt and fear. “Wife,” he answered with a hint of anxiety dripping down his tongue.
“Where have you been?” She chuckled, thinking that he was just out for a walk or something. In her mind, she would never ever even think that Aemond would be doing things like that behind her back.
Aemond stiffened, unable to answer. Before his brother always had to ruin the show.
“Look who it is!” Aegon says as his kingsguard follows behind him. “Your husband here…well, how do I say it..ah yes, was in the whore house, dear sister,” Aegon cackles, nudging Aemond’s arm before earning a hard punch from Aemond.
He saw red. He saw red in his eyes. He hated his brother. He hates him. He should’ve shut up. He never should’ve brought him to that place in the first place, he should’ve never returned to that place!-
“What..?” His wife’s voice slightly trembled.
Even when Aegon was in pain on the ground, he cackled. Obviously still drunk. “You heard me! He was fucking that whore like a hound!” Aegon continues to say and starts to make howling sounds.
Aemond saw how she started to grip her nightgown, her hands trembling. Her eyes were teary, not wanting to cry.
He disappointed her.
Disappointing the only person who has faith in him.
“I…I must go…sleep well your grace and….husband,” she says nervously as she curtsied at the two brothers before walking away.
He watched her walk away. Not daring to chase after her or call out her name. He wouldn’t dare, for he knew he disappointed her deeply. He hurt her again. Like how he did as a child. And now he’s sure she won't come back to him. This was the start of him losing her.
-
She hasn't talked to him since then. What used to be civil and peaceful. Her small talks and smiles weren’t present at his presence. She avoided him at all times. To the point where enough was enough. He couldn’t live like this. He needed her to talk to him. He doesn’t want his marriage to end like his father and his mother. He cares for her…he…he…he loves her.
And when he blinks, he finds himself standing in front of her chamber doors one morning.
He knocked gently.
“Come in,” he heard her sweet voice that he missed from her room.
When he enters, he received her sad and surprised expression.
“Husband,” she greeted stoically, looking away.
He then realized how her closet was wide open and empty. Her clothes scattered on the bed as he saw her stuffing her dresses onto her..
“What’s this?!” He protested.
“Mother said it’s not safe for me to be in kings landing. War is coming and…I must go home,” she says in a sad tone.
His heart sank deep hearing her words.
She’s leaving.
She’s leaving him.
“You are not going anywhere,” he insisted, roughly taking dresses out of her hands.
“Aemond-“
“Not on my sight!-“
“But Aemond-!”
“You are safe here! With me! With Vhagar!” He exclaims roughly, taking out of her dresses from her trunk.
“Aemond, stop it!”
Yet Aemond does not answer.
“I will keep you safe. Vhagar will keep you safe, no one will never hurt you-“
“But you did!”
Silence.
Gods, he hated the silence between them.
“You don’t understand,” he grunts as he grips the bedsheets. “How can I understand if you never let me in?!” She protested, tears streaming down from her eyes. He doesn’t even want to look at her. He didn’t want to see her cry.
“See? You wouldn’t even look at me! You wouldn’t touch me, you wouldn’t kiss me, you…,” she points out.
Aemond sighs in defeat.
It was all his fault.
But then he roughly took off his eyepatch, towering over her, gripping her wrist as he showed his sapphire eye to her. “And would you? Would you touch this monster, hm? Kiss this husband of yours who’s the reason why two innocent boys are killed? The reason why this war STARTED IN THE FIRST PLACE?!”
She flinched.
She closed her eyes, scared…waiting for him to do something to her.
It broke him.
“I…I..forgive me, I..,” Aemond lowers down his voice and hand, releasing her. Now guilt and shame has finally eaten him whole. He hurt her. Again and again. She deserved better.
Then came a knock on the door.
“Sorry for interrupting, my prince but..the council awaits your presence,” A guard said to him.
“I’ll be there.”
-
Aemond took his time and walked out of her chambers with her as her trunks were carried out from her room. It was present how there’s a gap between them. He wanted to hold her hand terribly, but he couldn’t. Not after what he did to her.
He felt how people were looking. Eyes on them as they walked through the halls of the red keep. He tried one more time to reach his pinky finger to hers but when they touched, she pulled her hand away to rub her other arm.
He lost her.
He probably never had her in the first place.
When they reached her carriage, he didn’t want to tear his eyes from her.
“I would, y’know?” She suddenly says with her gentle voice.
“Pardon?”
“I would…kiss and touch you,” she repeats. “The monster you said of…is still my husband. You’re still my husband,” she emphasizes.
Her words touched him somewhere in the deepest parts of his heart that no one has touched before. It made him frozen and unable to move a single muscle or bone in his body.
“I know that I am not what you needed, and I know that I’m nothing to you-.”
She was terribly wrong. How wrong she was. She meant the world to him.
She was…everything to him.
“I hope you will find what you’re looking for in the future.”
He didn’t want anyone but her.
They looked back and saw people watching.
They’re waiting.
They’re watching.
She has always been far much braver than him. So she walked back to him, placing a gentle kiss on his cheek, just beneath his eye patch. Beneath his scar.
“Geros ilas, my love…avy jorrāelan,” she whispered to him before pulling away and stepping into her carriage without looking back.
And little did Aemond know, that will be the last time he would ever get to see her.
In his heart, he blamed the world again.
He blamed his brother.
He blamed everyone and everything that took her away from him.
Maybe in another life, the war wouldn’t have happened, Aegon wouldn’t have took him to the brothel, Lucerys didn’t take his eye, and maybe.. he could hold her like a normal person would. Maybe they’d have children…and maybe…maybe she’d stay.
But right now, he walks back to the keep to assemble their army. To rook’s rest. To prove his brother and the whole world. To win this war.
For her.
a/n: Hello everyone! I’m Alice and thank you so much for reading! Fyi I used to write on tumblr but my old account was like semi suspended? Idk I couldn’t interact with people, I couldn’t comment on people’s post so now I’m here and uhh hi🥹I hope you enjoy this one shot and I’m only gonna write fics mainly about the Ewanverse so you’re in for a ride🫶🏻🤗 I’m gonna write more in the future and thank you for sticking around until the end of this fic! Thank you once againnn💞💞
I badly wanna see a gwayne hightower x velaryon/strong reader fanfic HAHAHAHAHAHAHA it's giving enemies to lovers and forbidden love troupe😫😫😫😫
f1letters' formula 1 fic recs - pt. 1
✨ SURPRISE! ✨ as an early Christmas gift for all of you, and since I will be continuing the 'midnights' series during the holiday season as well, I decided to make a small list with some of my all-time favourite stories!
I tried to include a variety of different drivers to the best of my ability, which was harder than I thought it would be, since some drivers don't have a lot of stories available (every single person writes for alex, lance or esteban deserves a giant smooch from me, I swear), or I don't read them as much. for other ones, I have like 20+ stories saved so it was really hard to stick to only a few! haha
anyways, I hope you enjoy this little present from me and I encourage you guys to check out all of these amazing and talented writers!
happy holidays to all of you lovely people! 💜 - cat
max verstappen | mv1
'long time lovers' || @libraryofloveletters
'little verstappen' || @lxclerc
'traitor' || @lxclerc
'dog days' || @tierneysodegaard || 13 parts
'our dirty little secret' || @timetorace || 2 parts
daniel ricciardo | dr3
'stargazing' || @art-outlaw || 28 parts
'memories hold me hostage' || @libraryofloveletters || 2 parts
'you abandoned me' || @lovingperfectionsblog || 2 parts
'sweet boy' || @unluckyhoneybee
'twin flame' || @vinvantae || 26 parts
lando norris | ln4
'breaking the rules' || @f1goat || 7 parts
'mini norris' !! @unluckyhoneybee || 2 parts
sebastian vettel | sv5
'after all this time' || @kates-dirty-sister
'chapters from an old book' || @libraryofloveletters
'thin walls' || @tierneysodegaard
pierre gasly | pg10
'pillow' || @illicitlimerence-writes || 4 parts
'one true love' || @mytinycrazymind
'secret' || @mytinycrazymind
'fake it till you make it' || @smoooothoperator || 6 parts
charles leclerc | cl16
'a moment in time' || @hey-kae || 2 parts
'babies and bahrain' || @illicitlimerence-writes
'little enzo' || @mytinycrazymind || 2 parts
'maybe summer doesn't have to end' || @rebelwrites || 11 parts
'the real deal' || @rebelwrites
lance stroll | ls18
'sugar plum' || @libraryofloveletters || 2 parts
'summer lovin' || @libraryofloveletters
'yule shoot your eye out' || @lovelytsunoda
'the second one' || @unluckyhoneybee
alex albon | aa23
'made in the a.m' || @lovelytsunoda
esteban ocon | eo31
'hot n cold' || @lovelytsunoda
'be my date' || @timetorace || 2 parts
lewis hamilton | lh44
'love you from the sidelines' || @libraryofloveletters
'old flame' || @lostinlewis || 5 parts
'what you can't have' || @luvth0t
mick schumacher | ms47
'dress' || @daydreamingleclerc
'lost in japan' || @illicitlimerence-writes
'romeo & juliet' || @illicitlimerence-writes
'see you later' || @illicitlimerence-writes
'sparkling' || @illicitlimerence-writes
carlos sainz | cs55
'in this lifetime or another' || @libraryofloveletters
'cockblock' || @lxclerc
'nothing happened' || @timetorace
george russell | gr63
'never really over' || @charlewiss-writes
'who you belong to' || @russellsppttemplates
multiple drivers
'bad omens' || @lxclerc || cl16 x pg10
'moth to a flame' || @lxclerc || cs55 x cl16 || 2 parts
'all too well' || @targaryenluv || lh44 x pg10
'are you happy now?' || @oyesmendes || pg 10 x gr63 || 3 parts
PS: if you want, feel free to leave your recommendations in the comments and/or message me! i'm always looking for new fics to read and I'd love to know your favourites! 💜
I love your works <3333
— masterlist
a - angst f - fluff s - smut
house of the dragon:
devoted to you (f) — harwin strong
endless love (f, s) — harwin strong
im yours (f) — harwin strong
missed opportunity (f) — harwin strong
false lovers (a) — harwin strong
more to come...
Just Pretend (Gavi x reader)
Part 1
Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8
Tinder is not a great place to look for boyfriends, but neither is the workplace.
Gavi x Physiotherapist! reader. Slow burn. I can't make things fast he's gotta work for it. Smut? Not in this part but maybe eventually.
A/N: Hi everyone! Not super new on Tumblr but I have never been brave enough to post a fic despite my constant maladaptive daydreaming about imaginary scenarios. The stress of being sick and not wanting to write my personal statement have lead me to actually write this and post it online. Please be nice, hope you enjoy!
Song inspo: Just Pretend - Bad omens
Writing inspo: Plot inspired by @zeegaazeegaah and their amazing Gavi x physiotherapist imagine. Other inspirational accounts will be tagged at the end.
TW: None
Word count: 4.8K
"So what do you do?"
y/n hated this question. Even being asked for nudes might be preferable to being asked about her job. y/n had been on 12 first dates since moving back to Barcelona, and without fail every one of them had been ruined by this simple question. She considered lying - she could pass as a student or a waitress or even a model (ok maybe not a model): there were literally thousands of jobs she could pretend to have. But, being the idiot hopeless romantic that she was, she decided to be honest with the man across from her. What if Thiago from Tinder was her soulmate? She didn't want to ruin it by lying.
"I'm finishing my sports medicine and physiotherapy certification, so I am working with one of the football clubs here to do practical training and gain experience."
"Oh that's cool! Which club? You can tell me, I know most of the 3rd and 4th tier Catalan clubs, so I'll probably know it even if it's really small."
Wow. Thiago from Tinder was an overachiever: he messed up before she even said which club she worked for, which was faster than every other man she had been out with in the last four months. y/n took a deep breath and resisted the urge to leave before confessing where she worked.
"I actually work at a pretty well known club... F.C Barca. I think you might of heard of it?" y/n watched this man's jaw visibly drop. His eyes got wide and lit up, like someone had told him he had just won a brand new car.
"You're a physio at Barca?? No way! That's my team! I think I would actually commit manslaughter if Pedri asked me to. So you get to see all the players every day? And Xavi! Have you ever spoken to Xavi? Do you know he won Spain their first world cup? You might be too young to remember. That's so amazing!"
y/n felt all the muscles in her head tense as she focused all her energy on not rolling her eyes. A fanboy. Typical. This was the most common response she got when she said her place of work out loud. 6 of the last 12 first dates had been major fanboys for the club, talking endlessly about how they would steal and kill and get on their knees for Barca. One had even been so bold as to ask if she had ever seen Lewandosky naked, to confirm if some measurements he had seen online were true. While the fans were annoying, the haters were even worse. 4 different dates had said they felt bad that she worked at a "dying club", throwing up football statistics, and going red in the face when she said she could not possibly care less about who had more Champion's League wins.
Then there were those that went out of their way to offend her. You would think that a man trying to get laid would have some more common sense. But that didn't stop one of her tinder matches from calling her a liar in the middle of a restaurant. He was still on his first glass of wine, leaning back cockily in his chair when he said that La Liga would never allow female physios to work with the first team because women couldn't "handle the intensity of football injuries." She should have gotten up and left when he said that, but he was 6'3 with a brand new Porsche, so she let him buy her dinner and drive her home before telling him that she genuinely hoped he never interacted with a female doctor ever again, even if it was to save his life.
The worst had been when she went out with Jose. He had invited her to a pretty expensive spot in central Barcelona. They were having an amazing conversation until the fated job question. She had downed a good amount of wine at that point, and wasn't as cynical about the reaction as she usually would be, so she spoke about her role with pride. Big mistake. He perked up, then threw his head back and laughed. He laughed so loudly it startled the waiter clearing plates from the nearby table. "21 years old and working as a physio for F.C Barca... Who did you have to sleep with to get that job, hm? Xavi? La Porte himself? Or maybe someone at the university? Regardless, you must fuck like a pornstar to have landed a job like that. Can't wait to try it first hand." y/n said some choice words about Jose and his micropenis, and promptly left, seeking to avoid assault charges that night.
The truth was that y/n was extremely talented at what she did. She grew up watching football with her father and brother, developing an interest in working in sports professionally. She worked herself half to death during high school to be accepted into a sports science program in the U.S. She interned with the college teams there, learning about sports injuries and treating them. She finished her program in three years, and despite programs across Europe fighting for her, she came back to Barcelona to finish her physiotherapy certification. She would be lying if she said it was just for her family and friends. The program in Barcelona advertised opportunities to work with F.C. Barca, her favorite football club since birth. It was a love she inherited from her father, as shown by all her childhood pictures in the Blaugrana uniform.
The program was harder than expected. She was one of 7 female first year students, and the only girl in her year that wanted to work with the first team. y/n was made aware that this might work to her advantage now that professional football was pushing for more female representation (in referees, coaching staff, and now on the medical team). The guys in her class either hated her guts or wanted to sleep with her (sometimes both) - it really was like legally blonde without the law.
In the middle of August, close to the beginning of the new season, all the applicants for the Barca placement were called into the university on a Sunday. Their professor introduced Dr. Gonzales, the head physiotherapist for the club. y/n started to sweat despite the air conditioning hitting her directly. She was terrified to even breathe wrong in the presence of this man.
"It's a pleasure to be here with you all today. Thank you for your hard work in submitting to fill the assistant physiotherapist position at F.C. Barcelona. Now, there have been rumors that we are hiring a student to fil this position because it is cheaper and we are broke, but I would like to assure you all now that it's not true."
The two boys in front of her snickered quietly, one whispering a "yeah right" to the other. Dr. Gonzalez looked up at the boys. "You two giggling in the back. You don't seem like the type we need at Camp Nou. You can leave now." Everyone in the room sat up straighter after that. Everyone was on military behavior, not wanting a wrong look or a chair squeak to blow their chance. "As many of you know, one of our strikers, Ousmane Dembélé, presents with consistent right hamstring tightness, leading to frequent injuries."
As Dr. Gonzalez turned to face the screen, y/n found enough bravery to pull out a pen and paper to take notes. The doctor continued to describe the player's condition, his playing style, and the current course of treatment being used. After speaking for 25 minutes (while facing the screen instead of the students), he turned around and addressed them. "Your project is to develop a continuous muscular therapy treatment for Dembélé in the next two days. The best and most cost effective method gets the job placement. You at the back," he pointed at y/n, "Smart choice to take notes. I advise you not to share."
Y/n drove home that evening checking her rear-view mirror every few seconds. The possibility of being followed by one of her classmates so they could steal her notes was low, but never zero, and so she did both of the locks tightly on the door. She sat at her computer and got to work right away. Truth be told, she felt like the whole assignment was kind of a trick. Dr. Gonzalez had told them the current treatment plan for Dembélé, which had obviously been working seeing as they kept using it. She made a few adjustments based on leg dominance and the anticipated excess strain of playing more minutes each game, and then she decided to facetime her friend Angelika while she made the PowerPoint look pretty.
"Good evening Dr. y/l/n, finally ready to ask for my hand in marriage? My parents always wanted me to marry into medicine." y/n rolled her eyes and smirked. She had met Angelika when she was living in the US through a Facebook group for Spanish students studying abroad. Ever since then, not a day had gone by where they hadn't spoken (except once when Angelika had dropped her phone into a pint of beer and couldn't get it fixed for three days).
"You know I'm ready when you are gorgeous, just send your ring size. What're you up to?"
"Nothing much, just scrolling on the internet trying to find clubs that are no cover for ladies tomorrow. You're still coming out with us right?" y/n looked away from her computer and looked at Angelika with the "I'm about to bail on plans look" that was all too familiar. "Y/n!! You cannot be cancelling plans with us again! You haven't been anywhere except your house and the university in like six weeks! People will start to think you're with child and in hiding."
"I didn't know I was the new virgin Mary." y/n quipped, trying to make her presentation equally professional and cute. "You're not, because that would require you being a virgin. I know it feels like it's growing back because you haven't looked in the direction of a man in centuries." y/n could only shake her head. It was not a lack of trying. "Well, I'm presenting to the Barca head physio Wednesday morning, so if you ever want a chance at seeing the inside of that locker room, you need to let me skip out on tomorrow."
Angelika sighed and threw herself on the bed dramatically. "Fine, but you need to be our DD and come pick us up after. Shockingly, it's really hard to order an Uber while drunk." y/n agreed to pick the girls up from the club at the end of the night, an spent the rest of the evening chatting idlily with her friend, living vicariously through the stories she told.
The following day, y/n spent all morning refining her presentation. She spent over an hour watching videos about the Barca training facility to see if there was any equipment she had overlooked in creating her treatment plan. The day progressed as normal - cleaning, cooking, practicing her presentation, watching TV on the couch. As 1am rolled around, she still hadn't received any communication from Angelika. While she was not an inconsiderate person, Angelika did have her moments where she would completely forget about the world around her: that was when she met a man who showed interest in her. Despite being gorgeous and intelligent, Angelika, like most girls in their early twenties, suffered from a condition known as "Nothing is true about me unless an attractive man says it". y/n also suffered (mildly) from this affliction, but being surrounded by weirdos all day in university had helped substantially. She knew that if she did not leave then, she would never get any sleep, and so she grabbed her car keys and headed to the address of the club that she had been sent earlier on.
She parked several blocks away from the club, and called Angelika for a record 41st time. y/n knew she wasn't going to receive an answer, so she changed into a tight satin top and a pair of heels that she always left in her car in case of emergencies (What if Joao Felix decided to take a random trip to Barcelona and she was unprepared?). She could feel the street practically vibrating beneath her as she walked towards the club. She was let in easily - it was a Tuesday night and the establishment needed female patrons. She kept close to the bar, and asked the girls working there if they had seen her friend. Once y/n pulled up a picture of Angelika, the girls laughed to one another.
"Oh yeah, she's up in the VIP section. They've dropped like 6k on bottle service already."
y/n felt the vein in her forehead start to pop out. Of course Angelika had found herself a man that would take her to the part of the club that was the hardest to get into. Especially on the night when y/n really needed to get home. Because why wouldn't that happen? She made her way over to the VIP section, where she was promptly stopped by two large bouncers, who obviously didn't believe that she just wanted to grab her friend. While standing there deciding whether she should just make Angelika order an Uber (or have this new lover order one for her), she was tapped on the shoulder. She turned around and was met by a very attractive man (boy? His age was hard to determine in the dark).
"Hey, do you need to get into VIP? Are you here alone? " "That's a really creepy question to ask a girl in a club." y/n yelled back over the thumping music. What were all these people doing out on a Tuesday? "No not like that. I can help you get in if you want." "I don't really want to get in, I just want to get my friend and leave." The man (boy?)'s eyes lit up. "Perfect! My tea- friend. My friend that I'm with is pretty drunk and the person that drove us is in VIP. I can't leave him by himself because he's kind of rowdy even when sober. Could you watch him while I go grab them?"
y/n didn't want to look too deeply into a good thing, but the offer felt suspicious. She scanned the boy (she had decided that he was young), looking for any indication that he could live up to his end of the bargain. She looked down at his feet, noticing the white Alexander McQueen sneakers. She decided that she could trust him, and if not, she was still in a public place, and someone would notice if she was being dragged out of a club kicking and screaming. She walked over to where the friend was and had to stifle a laugh. Another boy was sprawled across two high bar chairs, legs up and head rolled back. He was wearing a pair of Louis Vuitton sunglasses despite it being the middle of the night and them being indoors. His white button up had the first two undone and the collar popped, like he was Pitbull in 2011. He was in a pair skinny jeans (because, as y/n discovered quickly, everyone in the world had moved on from skinny jeans except for Spanish men) and some white Dolce and Gabanna sneakers. Where were these kids getting all this money?
"Pablo! Look who I brought you! This is..." The first boy looked back at you expectantly. "y/n". "y/n! She's really great and going to take care of you while I go get Pepi so we can go home." The drunk one (now Identified as Pablo) lifted his head, and tilted the sunglasses just enough to get a good look at the girl. "Wow Angel, nice job." The first one (Angel apparently) apologized to y/n, explaining that Pablo was a "really flirty drunk" but that he was never like this sober. y/n showed Angel a picture of Angelika, and off he went back into the beast that was the club. y/n stood awkwardly by Pablo, who appeared to have fallen asleep. Suddenly, he sprung up and asked her, "so what is a pretty girl like you doing in the club by herself?"
"I'm not here to go clubbing, just picking up a friend." "You're dressed like you're going clubbing." "Right, because they wouldn't let me into the club in my scrubs." "Scrubs? You look too young to be a doctor." The music was starting to take a toll on y/n, the thumping rhythm giving her a splitting headache. "You don't look old enough to be let into the club, but everyone is full of surprises." Pablo did not take this comment well. He stood up, feeling all the blood rush to his head as he rested his weight against the bar. He pushed his glasses up his head, and looked straight at her.
This was the first opportunity y/n had to admire how gorgeous Pablo was. The glasses pushed his hair back on his head, showing off his striking eyebrows and cheekbones. His eyes were wide and glassy, making him look like a teenager who had gotten drunk for the first time. For all y/n knew, that could be the case. His nose slopped downward, a subtle bump in the bridge like it had been broken before and reset. His discontent made his bottom lip poke out, and y/n suddenly was overwhelmed by the urge to treat him like a child: make him feel better with a kiss. "I'm 18, and this isn't even my first time in a club. You want to see my ID?" Pablo had gotten much closer to her than she had expected. In her 4 inch heels, y/n was looking him straight in the eyes. He was mere inches away from her face, cheeks flushed from the alcohol and the anger of being called a child. She couldn't stop her gaze from flipping between his eyes to his pouting lips. 'This is normal,' she thought to herself. 'I'm overwhelmed because no man has been this close to me in a while. Even if my scumbag cheating ex was standing this close I would want to kiss him. I am simply in desperate need of affection.'
This internal monologue ended just as another club patron bumped into Pablo, causing him to lose balance. He put his arms around y/n and rested weight against her, head pressed into her shoulder. "I feel like dying. I shouldn't have drank that much." He muttered. She just held him there, scared that he would hit the floor if she shifted. "Then why did you keep drinking?" She asked. It couldn't hurt - in the state he was in, she would be surprised if he even remembered his name in the morning. "So my brain would be a little quieter." y/n's heart ached at the statement. However old the boy in her arms was, he was being burdened by something far beyond his age.
Before she could ask anything else, she was tapped on the shoulder by Angel, who signaled for her to follow out of the club. She put one of Pablo's arms around her neck and began shuffling through the crowd. Once they left the club, Pablo quickly separated from her to throw up on the side of the street. "At least he waited until he was off of you to do that," a male voice echoed from behind her. y/n turned around to see Angelika clinging to a tall brunet. "Thank you so much for carrying her out. I think I can take it from here." y/n said, trying to get Angelika to remove herself from the nice man. "It's ok, I can walk her to your car. It might be easier than you carrying her." y/n smiled apologetically, and turned around to the sound of Pablo continuing to wretch his guts out. She ran over to make sure he wasn't puking blood and didn't need medical attention. "Come on Pablo let's go." Angel said from the curb. "No no, don't rush him. Let him get it all out before he gets into my car. Otherwise he'll have to start taking the city bus to matches." y/n looked up at the new voice. He walked up and stood by Angel, glancing at his phone before looking up at his friend and the girl making sure he didn't die. "Thanks for looking after him. I hope he wasn't too bad, he's a tag aggressive." y/n stood there speechless. The man thanking her for taking care of his drunk friend was none other than Pedri Gonzalez, one of the young stars of F.C. Barca. He was an absolute magician with the ball, and quickly becoming a favorite in y/n's household. She wanted to let out a scream: jump up and down and tell him that she was a huge fan and ask for a picture. But she had her presentation tomorrow. The last thing she needed was to make a bad impression on the player by causing a scene. So she took a deep breath and insisted that it was no problem.
Pablo had finished puking out his guts by that point and stood up straight, gripping his head from the dizziness. "Alright hermano, time to go." Pedri said, turning his back to y/n, Angelika, and the main carrying her. "Wait." Pablo said rummaging through his pocket. He pulled out his wallet, and clumsily pulled a card from it. He turned to y/n and grabbed her shoulder, pulling her close to him. There were shouts from his friends to stop whatever he was doing, but nothing was registering in his liquor-filled brain. "y/n think's I'm a little kid, so I just wanted to show her my ID." y/n shifted her gaze from his deep eyes to the card in his hand. She didn't look at the age. She didn't have to. Her eyes landed on the name: Pablo Martín Páez Gavira. One of the best young football players in the world had just used her as a banister. "Now that you know I'm not a kid, next time, you should let me buy you a drink." Pablo said, pushing a strand of hair from y/n's face before walking (wobbling) back to his friends.
y/n could not process everything going on in her head at that moment. She turned around and faced the man holding a half-asleep Angelika. "You don't play for Barca do you?" She asked, half joking and half fearful. "No. I play for Real Sociedad. I'm Martin." "Zubimendi??" "Yeah." This was too much. y/n, 7 hours before the most important presentation of her life, was surrounded by so much football royalty it made her dizzy. Martin looked like he was going to say something else, but y/n put her finger to her lips and shushed him. "Please, not another word. Just bring her to the car."
They walked silently to y/n's tiny car, Martin helping to carefully place Angelika in the back seat. "So are you the guy she was with while ignoring my calls?" "Oh no, that was my teammate Ander. He was also kind of out of it so I offered to help her out." "Why is everyone getting drunk out of their minds on a random Tuesday in August?" y/n said in frustration, causing a laugh to erupt from Martin. "It's the last week before training for the new season starts. Not a lot of opportunities to black out after this. People like to take advantage." y/n thanked Martin and got into the driver's seat. He stopped her before she drove off. "Do you think I could maybe get your number? Just to make sure you get home safe?" y/n rolled her eyes at the lame excuse for a pick-up tactic, but surrendered her phone number anyway. She drove back to her apartment with her head reeling, as she tried to rehearse her speech in her head instead of thinking of the events of the night.
The next day, y/n looked perfect. She had work her best school-approved scrubs and coat. and slicked her hair back to make her look more professional. She was in her business attire Nikes. Her note cards were neatly written and organized. She sat in the lecture hall waiting to be called on. The students would be presenting in random order. As all the student filled in to present, the tension was palpable. Everyone side-eyed each other, trying to intimidate the "competition". The door swung open and in walked the professor, as well as Dr. Gonzalez. He stood at the front podium, stern as ever, and began to speak.
"Good morning students. Thank you all for the effort you have put into the presentations you will share today. We look forward to all you assessments and insights. As the new season quickly approaches, we want the new assistant to become acclimated to the workplace quickly. Therefore, the decision about the position will be made today following the presentation." The entire room stopped breathing. "In order to do so efficiently, please welcome our other guests and evaluators, Mr. Xavi Hernandez and Mr. Ousmane Dembélé." The pair walked in, and the room engaged in the most "I wish I was dead" sounding clapping known to man. y/n started sweating profusely. If she had known that Xavi and Dembélé were going to be watching her presentation, she would have made Angelika take the Uber. Hell, she would have made her ride a Donkey back home and gotten a full night's sleep.
Dr. Gonzalez drew names for the order, and because y/n has the worst luck, she was presenting last. She did what she does best: panicked immediately. She tried to think of ways to present the information differently than the 6 students before her had. As she listened to the presentations, the more nervous she got. None of the other students had treatment plans remotely similar to hers. Antonio, one of the smartest in their batch and the presenter right before her, even suggested he get surgery.
It was time. y/n stood up at the front of the room and pulled out her slides. "Good morning everyone. Today I will be presenting my comprehensive treatment plan for player Ousmane Dembélé's right hamstring." She got through the whole thing without stuttering or having her knees give out. As she finished her last slide, she let out a sigh of relief. The hard part was over. She asked if their were questions and Xavi's hand went up. "So Miss y/n, the treatment plan presented is very similar to the one we have currently implemented, with a couple changes in training and every day life. What is the anticipated recovery time for this treatment?" Everyone else in the class had said 8-12 months. But no - of course y/n had to be differently. "6 weeks sir." "6 weeks? No one else has given a suggestion that would take less than half a year." "Yes sir, however, if you take into account the availability of daily therapy, cryotherapy, and the current play style and strain distribution, he can be on the field in 6 weeks. He might not be comfortable playing all 90 minutes each game, but that's not the same as being completely out for injury." Xavi nodded and said nothing more. That was the end of the questioning.
It took them 8 minutes exactly to decide who go the job. Dr. Gonzalez, Xavi, and Dembélé came back into the room, thanking everyone again for their hard work. "We are please to announce," Xavi started, "that we will be offering the assistant physiotherapist position for the 2022/2023 season to," he turned to Dembélé, who finished the thought, "Miss y/n y/l/n." All the men in the room turned to face y/n at once as she struggled to breathe from the shock. "We look forward to having you this season."
And that's how it happened. y/n was now the assistant physiotherapist for the first team at F.C. Barcelona during the day, and entertainment for the absolute worst men in Spain in the evenings. She left her disappointing first date with a headache and leftovers, and drove home listening to her "Maybe Love is a Social Construct" playlist. As she walked into her apartment, her phone chimed with a text notification. She let her hair down and grabbed her phone, preparing to update Angelika about the latest in the tragedy that was her love life. Instead, she had two separate text notifications.
[Unknown number]: Hey, is this still y/n's number?
[Gavi]: I need to see you urgently. Tomorrow morning 6:30 am. I'll be waiting outside your office.
To be continued...
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
If you got this far, thanks for reading! I have had this idea for a long time and have been writing snippets of it down. I will continue to update whenever I can, as this really is a passion project for me (so it's ok if no one reads it).
GIF credit to @gavidaily
Huge thanks to the following for heavily inspiring me to start writing this on the internet: @missgavi @kyiiansmbappe @julianalvarez9 @milawritesstuff @leeamorgan (there are a couple others I'm forgetting)
Check Point Masterlist
Summary: She never regret leaving the world of motorsport in order to pursue her career in acting. Well, maybe she did regret it. A bit.
or
in which a highly acclaimed actress realized that coming back to a sport that she left years ago is a bad idea, considering she grew up with half of the paddock.
Pairing: Max Verstappen x actress!reader
Table of contents
00.
01.
02.
03.
Smau!
00.
Tame the Dragon
| Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 |
Pairing: Daemon Targaryen x Targaryen!reader
Summary: Daemon has asked you to marry him, but you have to wait to talk with King Viserys until Rhaeneyra and Laenor's wedding takes place. As you and Daemon try to hide the affection you feel for one another, everything gets more complicated with you being betrothed to Jason Lannister.
Warnings: I’m not a native English speaker, strong language, incest, mention of sexual abuse, no smut but Daemon is such a tease
Taglist: @disneydaddyevans @mirandastuckinthe80s@xicesam@mariamyousef702@eddiemadmunson @dont-try-pesticide @sweetybuzz25 @hc-geralt-23 @schniiipsel @ttae-yong @syrma-sensei @asiludida164 @kaitieskidmore1 @irmavanity-blog @pax-2735 @trickrtreatart @shanzeyxsyed @random-human02 @scarwicht @xcallmetaniax @instabull
A/N: This part only has Daemon and the reader, I hope you enjoy it!
|Part 6|
Another sob echoed inside the Dragonpit.
Wrapping your arms around your torso, you rested your head against Caraxes’ neck as he laid on the ground with its eyes closed. You, too, was sitting on the ground, your knees pulled against your chest.
The way Jason Lannister had tried to assault you was enough to leave you crying and shaking for the rest of the night, but the way your mother had reacted affected you even more. You caressed Caraxes’ cold, hard scales as you tried to control your crying -you hated how vulnerable you were feeling. But, at the same time, you were burning with rage.
You wanted to take out your anger on someone -on Jason Lannister, to be more precise -but you knew you had to wait for the morning so that the King could decide on whichever punishment he seemed fit. Hence, the only thing you could do was to imagine how it would satisfy you if you could let Virion burn him slowly, hearing the screams of agony.
“Everything could have been easier,” you muttered, you were talking to Caraxes, “if I could just marry Daemon and get the fuck away from all this shit.”
Thinking about Daemon seemed to calm you down a little bit as your crying slowly faded away, leaving its place to deep breaths and, most likely, bloodshot eyes. At that moment, you craved to feel the heat of his body more than ever, for you knew that only he could wash away the stains left by Jason Lannister.
“You make this little game of hide-and-seek rather too easy, Princes.” Daemon’s voice came from behind you, causing you to swiftly turn your head back to look at him. “I suggest you get more creative.”
You watched him as he walked towards you. He was wearing a black vest with a crimson shirt underneath and the shadows caused by the torches on the walls -which didn’t cast enough light to illuminate the space at all -created eerie figures on his handsome face as he kneeled next to you.
Wiping away the tears rolling down your cheeks, you rested your forehead against Caraxes, your eyes closed. “He brings me to ease,” you spoke with a low voice. “I cannot think of a better place but his side when I wish to hide from the nightmares haunting me.”
You could imagine Daemon raising an eyebrow at your words. “The said nightmare being your mother, I assume?”
“Well, she is the biggest of them, that’s for sure,” you muttered as you opened your eyes and looked at Daemon. Some strands of his short, silver hair were curled in way that made them fall in front of his eyes. “Daemon, there is something you should know,” you began to speak after taking a deep breath. “Tonight, Ja…”
Before you could even speak, Daemon placed his right index finger in front of your lips. “I know what happened, Y/N, you needn’t speak those words.” Even though he gave his best to seem perfectly calm, you could easily notice the way his jaw clenched. “Ser Harwin told me.”
Your eyes widened with surprise, you didn’t expect him to hear about the incident so soon. “I… What… Did you do something?” You asked with a low voice.
Daemon moved his right hand to cup your face, his touch was warm against your cold skin. “To that fucking cunt of a lord? I intended to cut off his cock and shove it in his mouth; however, I was reminded that you, Y/N, wished my brother to punish him as he sees fit.” Daemon responded to your question, and it made you realise that his violent side somehow turned you on even during such a time. “Thus, I simply made sure that the pretty blue of his eyes would be wider visible all around his face.”
With a confused expression on your face, you held his left hand and raised it in the air, only to see the bruises on his knuckles. Daemon was watching you carefully as he waited for a reaction. Slowly, you let his hand down and took a deep breath. “I just wanted to drag him down there and let Virion burn him as he screamed in agony.” You confessed, “but I know I should avoid any further political complications -I assume the King wouldn’t really appreciate it if it came to be known that the man, whom he personally betrothed to his niece, has tried to…”
Not letting you finish, Daemon pressed his lips against yours. “I never want to hear those words leaving your lips, Y/N, do you understand?” He whispered in between kisses before pulling himself a little back. Feeling his lips against yours made you realise that you wanted him at that very moment. You wanted to drown the disgusting memories from the night in your desire for him. “What did your mother tell you?”
You followed Daemon as he slowly stood up. “She thinks that I am responsible for what he tried to do to me.” You spat out the words, rage building up within you once again. “She makes me sick!”
“Hey,” Daemon cupped your face with both hands as he leaned into you, his breath caressing your face every time he exhaled. “Y/N, darling, look at me.” You raised your head to meet his violet eyes. “I promise you, I will help you get rid of her and that cunt of a lord, soon, but I need you to at least try to keep your calm until then.”
You gulped before speaking. “I want you, Daemon,” you whispered as you pulled him down into a kiss. “I just want to be yours.”
“You are already mine, Y/N,” Daemon whispered against your lips as he slid his hands down to rest them on your hips. “Only mine.”
Wrapping your arms around his neck, you parted your lips to deepen the kiss. Daemon let his tongue slide into your mouth, causing you to sigh into the kiss as it met yours. Every time he kissed you, the horrors were beginning to fade away ever so slowly as new memories with Daemon took their places.
You could feel the heat between your legs growing while Daemon’s hands wandered around your body.
“Did he hurt you?” Daemon asked, slowly parting your lips. You nodded reluctantly. “Show me.”
Taking a small step back, you gathered your silver hair on your left shoulder, only to expose an ugly bite mark which made the little love-marks from Daemon seem like simple dots. Even though the Dragonpit was dimly lit, the dark purple spot could be easily recognised on your pale skin.
It wasn’t hard to realise how much effort Daemon gave to keep himself calm.
With slow steps, Daemon walked behind you and rested his hands on your waist. Then, he laid his lips on the exposed side of your neck, leaving gentle kisses until reaching your collar bone. You closed your eyes and let your head lean against his chest as you left yourself completely to his kisses. Your breath got heavier each time his lips met the sensitive skin of your neck once more and you could hardly resist the urge to rub your thighs against each other.
“Daemon,” you breathed out his name as he let his tongue touch your skin. “Take me.”
He chuckled against your neck before raising his head to have his lips on a level with your ear. “You need to be more precise with your wishes, Princess.” He whispered, it was obvious that he was, once again, up for teasing you.
Quickly, you turned around inside his arms, your bodies still pressed against each other, his hold firm on your waist. He was looking down at you. “I want you to take me,” you spoke as you rested your hands on his chest. “Here. Right now.”
A smirk found its way to Daemon’s lips. “In front of Caraxes?” he asked while he pointed at his dragon with his head. However, you didn’t really pay attention to him as you raised to your fingertips and pressed your lips against his. He kissed you back, just as passionately as you were, only to part your lips short after. “We’ll miss the dessert.”
“I don’t give a fuck about the dessert,” you whispered as you tried to capture his lips once again, but he clicked his tongue, pulling his head back.
“And you wish to kiss me with that mouth, Y/N?” You rolled your eyes, which made Daemon let out a soft laugh for he loved how impatient you were becoming. With a sudden movement, he pulled you towards him so that your bodies were pressed against each other. “I will take you, Princess, but not now and not here.”
You whined, which brought a cocky smirk to his lips.
“Even though I quite enjoy seeing how hard you crave me, I have rather different plans for tonight which do not involve fucking you in the Dragonpit.” With slow movements, he pushed a strand of silver hair behind your ear, which had fallen in front of your face. “Further, your mother should better be reminded that her fucked-up plan was never enough to tame a dragon.”
You let your look linger on his lips for a while before moving it to his purple eyes. “You think we should go back to the feast?” You asked, only to earn a nod from Daemon. With slow movements, he took out a black, silk scarf from his pocket and wrapped it gently around your neck. Then, he pressed his lips against yours.
The kiss was short but it was full of longing and desire, which left you aching for more after Daemon took a step back. You were already missing the heat of his body. “Come now, we have one more role to play tonight,” he told you, walking towards the exit. “After that, I shall have you in my chambers.” With that, Daemon sent you one last lustful look, “and let the whole fucking castle know whom you really belong to.”
𝖨𝖿 𝖨 𝖪𝗂𝗌𝗌 𝖸𝗈𝗎, 𝖨’𝗆 𝖲𝗈𝗋𝗋𝗒
𝘚𝘶𝘮𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘺: 𝘈 𝘮𝘪𝘴𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘮𝘶𝘯𝘪𝘤𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘢𝘵 𝘢 𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘵𝘺 𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘑𝘢𝘮𝘦𝘴 𝘢𝘴𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘠/𝘕 𝘵𝘰 𝘣𝘦 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘨𝘪𝘳𝘭𝘧𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘯𝘥 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘵𝘸𝘰 𝘲𝘶𝘪𝘤𝘬𝘭𝘺 𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘮𝘴𝘦𝘭𝘷𝘦𝘴 𝘨𝘰𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘦𝘳𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘴. 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘣𝘭𝘦𝘮 𝘪𝘴, 𝘪𝘵’𝘴 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘧𝘢𝘬𝘦… 𝘶𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘭 𝘪𝘵 𝘪𝘴𝘯’𝘵.
Part One 1.6k
Part Two 2.2k
Part Three 2.8k
Part Four 4.8k
Part Five 5.2k
Part Six 5.2k
Part Seven 3.4k
Part Eight 5k
Extras: unofficial make out session | is james still a bad kisser? | meeting the parents | what flavor is that? | hanging with the girls | quidditch lesson | failed study session | life after hogwarts | the start of the crush | small or big wedding? | wedding dress shopping | james potter; kiss collector | first baby | james’ crush through the years | first official date | the gift of quidditch gloves | remus lupin, #1 shipper | finally receiving the love notes | sirius black, biggest hater | james’ massive honeydukes haul | james used to do what? | who helps james plan your surprises? | james potter and his list of names | the proposal | james meeting the parents
Soundtrack 🎵
— LACY
Summery: Conrad brings his girlfriend from Boston to Cousins Beach for the first time and it’s safe to say that someone isn’t happy about it. (Told in Belly’s point of view)
Paring: Conrad Fisher x Girlfriend Reader
Warnings: Belly being a bit of a bitch to reader
coming September 21
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.
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