Yall Pls Go Read This It's Too Good đŸ˜«đŸ˜«đŸ˜«đŸ™đŸŸ

Yall Pls Go Read This It's Too Good đŸ˜«đŸ˜«đŸ˜«đŸ™đŸŸ

yall pls go read this it's too good đŸ˜«đŸ˜«đŸ˜«đŸ™đŸŸ

What I Should’ve Said

Elias ‘Stack’ Moore x black reader

Description: TBA

Word: 3,023

A/n: I can’t even describe how surprised and happy I am, by the support and love you guys showed to part one. I am extremely obsessed and in love with these twins, and this is exactly what we all mean when we say we want to pair of Jordans, Amen?

AMEN!

Tag list: @capswife @marley1773 @kxllanxtdoor @berlinswifey @thegreatlibraryofalex @httpsangelsstuff @lovereadingfanfic @li-da-savage @reci1996 @nbanenefrmdao @theonekaysstuff @kpopslur @fjssdfb @zane2408 @saik-k @childishgambinaax @k4kashin @keliwel

Part 1 - I Never Told You

What I Should’ve Said

Elias?” You mumbled, staring at the scene in front of you in horror.

Blood. All the blood. It was all you could focus on—the crimson liquid seeping from the side of Stacks’ neck, painting the ground in a gruesome tapestry of life and pain. Stacks, who was withering on the ground, struggled to move, his body twitching as if trying to fight against the inevitable.

The next thing you heard were gunshots, sharp and echoing in the air, as Smoke lit Mary up, each bullet finding its mark in her body. Just when you thought the chaos couldn’t escalate further, she dropped to the floor, only to rise again, defying the laws of life and death. Your ears were ringing from the close proximity of Smoke’s gunfire, but all you could see was Stacks.

As you inched toward him, desperate to reach him, Mary bolted toward you, pushing you out of the way with a force that sent you sprawling to the ground.

Hastily, you scrambled to your knees, crawling as fast as you could toward Stacks, your heart racing.

“Elias!” You screamed, horror twisting your voice.

There was an entire chunk of skin missing between the top of his neck and shoulder, a gaping wound that made you feel sick. Without a second thought, you tore off your shawl and pressed it against the injury, your hands trembling. Smoke, his face a mask of fury and fear, lifted his twin brother slightly, cradling his head in his lap.

“She fucking bit me, baby,” he coughed out, his mouth stained with blood, each word a struggle.

“Smoke, what do we do—?” you stammered, panic creeping into your voice.

“Fuck, just hold it!” he barked, his own desperation evident as he tried to help you stem the flow of blood from Stacks’ neck.

“I’m sorry,” Stacks wheezed, the sound barely escaping his lips. You felt one of his hands tap your elbow weakly.

“I don’t care! I don’t care about anything else; I just need you to stay with me, okay?” You begged, tears streaming down your cheeks as you kept pressure on the wound with one hand and reached down to hold one of his.

He squeezed your hand back, but only for a moment. You felt his grip loosen, and that arm fell limp, a chilling realization settling over you like a dark cloud.

“Elias, please!” you cried, your voice breaking as fear clawed at your insides.

“I love you,” he said, looking you dead in the eye, his gaze piercing through the pain, though his own eyes were mere slits now.

“I love you, big brother,” he murmured this time to Smoke, the words a whisper of tenderness amidst the chaos, before a gurgling sound escaped his lips, followed by an eerie silence.

“Elias?” You called, your heart racing, but there was no response.

“Elias!” You shouted again, desperation flooding your voice as you shook him gently, hoping against hope for a miracle.

But he was gone.

The world around you faded into a blur, the sounds of gunfire and chaos dimmin' as the weight of loss crashed down upon you like a heavy shroud. You felt a coldness seep into your bones, a chill that had nothin' to do with the night air—it was the icy grip of despair.

“Elias
” you whispered, his name hangin' in the air like a haunting melody, a promise left unfulfilled.

You couldn’t move. All you could do was stare at your hand clutchin' his. His hand was quickly turnin' cold, life leavin' him with every passing second.

Smoke's face twisted in agony as he cradled his brother, the bond of twinhood shattered in an instant. You could see the rage buildin' within him, a storm of emotions that threatened to erupt at any moment, ready to lash out at the world for takin' his brother away.

“Smoke, we have to move the body outside,” you urged, your voice shaky.

“Ain’t nobody touchin' my brother,” he seethed, fury and heartbreak intertwining in his words.

Coverin' your mouth to choke down another sob, the reality that Stack was no longer here played on a loop in your mind, a cruel reminder of what you’d lost.

“Y/n, you too, baby,” your sister said gently, rubbin' your shoulders, tryin' to coax you into movin'.

With trembling hands, you reached out, runnin' your fingers softly over his forehead before pressin' your own to his. You closed your eyes, wishin' for one last moment, one final chance to tell him how you felt.

“I should’ve told you,” you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper, “I should’ve told you how much you mean to me.”

Your lip trembled as you leaned over, placing a tender kiss on his forehead, a goodbye you wished you didn’t have to say. Annie helped you up and out of the room, her grip firm yet comforting.

You paused at the doorway, lookin' back at Stack one last time, the sight of him still feelin' unreal.

“Come on, y/n,” Annie urged, her voice gentle yet insistent. You turned your gaze to your sister, who could see the hurt and pain in your eyes. Her heart ached for you and for her lover. Tears flowed freely down your face.

“I didn’t get to say it back, sista,” you whispered, the weight of your unspoken words hangin' heavy between you.

Haint.

That’s what your sister thought it was, but you all quickly found out she wasn’t too far off.

See, a Haint, in plain terms, was a malicious ghost. Restless spirits who, for some reason, hadn’t moved on.

But no.

No Haint would be handled between you and Annie, but vampires? That was a whole 'nother beast.

This was another type of evil you weren’t equipped to deal with. Not one that wore the face of the person you loved. When you saw him walkin' back up to that front door, lookin' alive as if nothin' had happened, givin' you that signature smirk, gold ones shinin’ like it was any other day, you were floored. You wanted nothin' more than to reach out, grab him, and make sure he was real.

Once Smoke closed the door, it stood still in front of it, unmoving. You prayed this was all a joke. You prayed Stack would just walk through that door and tell you that everything was gonna be okay.

But that didn’t happen.

You weren’t sure how he knew you were still on the other side of the door while the others were further away, tryin' to come up with some sort of plan, but you began to hear him whisper your name.

Or did you?

You weren’t sure what was real or fake anymore, and it was startin' to drive you mad. The voice of one of your very best friends askin' you to open up, plead in' with you, tryin' to assure you that everything was okay and nothin' was as bad as it seemed.

“Bam.” You shut your eyes tight as the sweet, silky voice of the man you loved coaxed you from the other side of the door.

“Elias, please,” you whispered, your voice tremblin' with confusion and longing.

“Open the door for me, Bam.”

“Just
 I don’t understand,” you stammered, your heart racin' as it fought against the logic of your mind.

Your brain knew the truth. It wasn’t him. But your heart didn’t care, and right now, the two were at war with each other.

Everything you and your sister had grown up knowin' about magic and creatures that go bump in the night—it was all real, and it was literally at your front door. Yet, your heart struggled to see anything but Stack.

The man you had fallen so deeply in love with when you were just sixteen—the man you were still hopelessly in love with now. Except now, there was no longer a livin', breathin' Elias, but rather somethin' undead.

Vampire.

“Just open up for me, and I promise you, everything is gonna be okay, baby.” His voice flowed like honey, each word drippin' with the kind of sweet reassurance that used to melt your heart.

“Elias
” you breathed, your voice cracking under the weight of your emotions, a fragile whisper that barely escaped your lips.

“Open the door, Bam.” This time, his tone was still gentle, yet there was an undeniable firmness to it that sent your heart racing, pulling you in like a moth to a flame.

“I can’t do that,” you sniffled, not bothering to conceal the hurt that laced your voice. “It’s not really you, ‘Lias.”

You pressed your forehead and hand against the door, wishing for nothin' more than to reach out and touch him, to feel the warmth of his skin against yours, to bring him back to you in any way that you could.

“But I am, Y/n. It’s still me, girl. There’s only one me, baby.” He joked in that familiar way that made your heart swell, even now, even in this twisted moment. “I’m just
 better now. Everything is so much better.”

From the outside, Stack leaned against the door, his forehead pressed against the same spot where you stood, as if he could feel your presence through the wood, tethered to you by an invisible thread.

“No fear, no pain. Shit’s just beautiful.” You listened, entranced, as he went on, his voice smooth and enticing, painting a picture of a world where everything was normal. “And you’re beautiful.”

Mary, who had originally stood by giggling, enjoying the show of what she thought was her man trying to gain entry into the juke joint, recoiled at his words, her expression shifting from amusement to disbelief.

The hive mind they had formed once connected to Remmick allowed her to see into Stack’s thoughts as well. It wasn’t what she thought it would be.

Inside Stack’s mind


Once he became part of the hive, she assumed his deepest, most inner thoughts would be of her—of their love, their connection.

But what was funny was that the bond they shared was nothin' more than the connection of two people who loved the same person back.

See, while Stack may have loved Annie, he breathed you.

It changed the landscape of her emotions as the vampire form tried to reason within, but deep down, she knew.

Stack was never really hers.

He was yours.

He always would be.

“You are beautiful, and you will be beautiful—on the outside and the inside,” Stack spoke convincingly, his tone a mix of charm and desperation that echoed in your chest. “And you and I? We will be together. No problems, no worries.”

Your fingers played with the latch on the door, the metal cool against your skin. You knew you couldn’t invite him in, but wouldn’t it be okay if you just looked at him? If you could see him, talk to him face-to-face, maybe you could reason with him. Fix him.

“We want you,” Stack said from the other side, his voice dripping with longing, like a lover’s whisper in the dark. “I want you.”

“But Stack—” Mary tried to interject, her tone tinged with concern, but one sharp look from him silenced her instantly.

“Shut up, bitch,” he seethed, the darkness that filtered into his voice made you recoil, snapping you out of the trance you didn’t even realize you were in, the warmth of his charm replaced by a chilling edge.

“I just want you,” he repeated, urgency creeping into his voice, raw and desperate. “It could be me and you.”

“Now open the fucking door!” Stack screamed, the sound of his fist slamming against the wood made you jump back, colliding into Smoke, who you hadn’t realized was standin' there, along with the others—watchin' you with sad, worried eyes as you broke down.

Smoke gently took one of your hands and squeezed it tight, his other hand resting on your back, guiding you away from the door toward Annie, a protective shield against the darkness.

“Come on, sister. You got to stop torturing yourself.” Annie’s voice was low and steady, filled with concern that wrapped around you like a warm blanket.

“Get the fuck on outta here, Stack!” Smoke threatened, takin' your place at the front door, ready to protect you from whatever darkness loomed on the other side, his stance firm and unwavering. “Fo’ I give you the pain you lookin’ for.”

“It’s okay, baby. I’ve already won,” Stack said, his voice dripping with a mix of confidence and something darker, leaving a chill in the air that seeped into your bones.

You struggled to catch your breath, disoriented and unsure how you ended up in the back of a car. The vehicle felt foreign, likely belonging to someone who had come to enjoy the evening’s festivities, not knowing what they’d fall victim to.

The world around you faded into a blur, drowned out by the sound of your ragged breaths and the pounding of your heart.

You blinked slowly, trying to clear the fog from your mind. Each time you shut your eyes, the horrific memories of the last half hour flashed before you like a relentless slideshow.

Grace. Taunted by Bo before she snapped, letting the horror in.

“Bam.”

Those of you who remained inside the juke joint were doing your best to arm yourselves before the undead descended upon you, ready to invade your sanctuary.

You blinked rapidly, feeling tears swell in your eyes, the last wave of grief crashing over you as you closed them tight.

You watched Delta sacrifice himself, as you felt Mary’s claws sinking into your abdomen, her whispers echoing in your mind at the memory of her claiming him as hers, before being suddenly thrown away from you.

“Bam.”

All you could do was watch as Smoke hovered above Annie, who had spared you a glance. She was muttering words you couldn’t understand; your ears filled with a deafening white noise.

A moment later, you watched your sister’s husband drive a stake through her heart. You could feel her essence leaving this plane, taking a piece of you with her as she slipped away.

“Bam.”

Everyone was gone. The people you grew up with, the ones you loved—they were all dead or turned to the undead. You looked down, the vision of your hand blurring in and out of focus as you felt something slick coating your fingers.

Blood.

This time, the blood on your hands was yours.

“Come on, Bam, look at me.” A voice said softly.

You blinked hard, your vision clearing as you finally focused on the face before you.

“Elias?”

A feeling you couldn’t quite describe washed over you. You were torn between wanting to scream and shout or attempting to run away, even though deep down, you knew you were in no condition to do so. You should be scared of him, but you didn't have the energy to feel fear. You were dying.

The air around you was thick with dread, the acrid smell of smoke and blood mingling in your nostrils, a stark reminder of the chaos that had consumed the night. With your last few moments in this lifetime approaching fast, you considered it might be a blessing to lay eyes on the face of your soulmate one last time.

With a shaky hand, you reached up, caressing the side of his face gently, yearning for the warmth that once radiated from him.

Stack let out a sigh of relief, the sound echoing in the stillness. You had been in and out of consciousness for what felt like an eternity as he picked you up and carried you away from the madness.

Stack looked down at the spot you’d been holding, your dress now darkened with blood, a stark contrast against the fabric.

The scent of you flooded his senses, and he couldn’t help the drool that pooled in his mouth, salivating at the thought of how you would taste. Yet, he fought against his new nature, focusing solely on you.

“Did you mean it?” you choked out, bringing his attention back to your face, your voice a fragile whisper.

“I did. I do.” He confessed, relishing the warmth of your touch against his cold skin. “I’ve been in love with you since I was a youngin’. I’ll always want you, even if you don’t want me.”

You looked into his glowing red eyes, filled with sincerity, and a pained laugh escaped your lips, tinged with irony.

“Even undead, your insecurities are screamin’,” you smiled, your teeth stained with blood. Your fingertips caressed his skin, grateful you could finally see him one last time. “I never wanted Smoke, Elias. I only ever wanted you.”

“I ain’t ever been nobody’s but yours, Y/n.” His rough voice whispered, filled with longing. “I will always be yours. I just need you to stay with me.”

You thought about it. Everyone else you loved was already gone, and you felt a hollow emptiness where your heart was supposed to be. You were on the brink of death yourself.

“C’mon now. I need to hear you say it. Tell me you wanna stay.” Stack pleaded, feeling your heartbeat slow beneath his fingers. He cradled your head in his hands, desperate for you to focus on him.

He wanted you to stay with him forever, but he didn’t want to take away your choice. He had taken enough from you tonight already.

“Please don’t leave me.”

Your thumb ghosted over his lip, and even half-dead, you wanted nothing more than to kiss him one last time.

Did it have to be the last time?

“I wanna stay,” you whispered through half-lidded eyes.

It was then Stack kissed you, kissed you the way he had pictured so many times before. You reciprocated, both of you ignoring the metallic taste of blood in your mouth. When you pulled apart, he kissed your forehead a few times before resting his on yours. He then took your hand in his, kissing your palm, then your wrist.

“It’s gon’ be alright, don’t you worry. I got you.”

Then he bit you.

More Posts from Lov4gor3 and Others

1 year ago
YESS

YESS

Don't Make It Harder On Me

Don't Make It Harder On Me

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Characters: Miguel Galindo x woc!reader

Summary: You broke it off for good reason, but that doesn't mean Miguel is willing to let you go. Especially when he knows you aren't over him either.

Word Count: 9k (bro wtf)

Warnings: my poor attempt at some angst, cheating, violence, general language warning, fingering, pet names, miguel being a lil bossy, also miguel talking a lil shit ayyee, sex in risky places, choking, mirror sex.

A/N: Whew chile it's been a minute but this is me attempting to break my hiatus while also trying to feed yall some good ol mayans content. I was gonna break this up into two parts but then I said fuck it. Hope yall don't hate that. I gave it a look over but I might have missed some errors and typos. My bad if I did. The divider is by @firefly-graphics

DO NOT repost or translate my work anywhere. If you like it don’t forget to reblog and share with others who might enjoy it as well.

Don't Make It Harder On Me

It was never your intention to get involved with a married man, in fact all your life you swore that you’d never be a man’s mistress. That was before Miguel Galindo came sweeping into the little boutique looking to buy an anniversary gift for his wife. You had been swept up in the tailored suit, suave demeanor, smooth voice, and God was he charming. If you hadn’t known better you could have sworn he had been flirting with you the whole time you assisted him that day. It hadn’t gone further than that, you had insisted on trying not to cross that line. 

He didn’t make it easy for you though, visits becoming more frequent and him insisting you be the one to lead him around the boutique as he shopped for various people in his life. It wasn’t until a heated moment when you almost cracked under the sexual tension that had built to the point that stifling was the only way it could be described. “You’re married.” You had told him, breathless as his mouth peppered kisses along your jaw and down your throat. His beard scratched against your soft skin as his fingers gripped against the curve of your hips. 

“What if I wasn’t?” You didn’t know it but the man had been steadily growing disenchanted with his wife. The love he had once felt for her eventually giving way to resentment and well on its way to being nothing at all. It was her own doing, an inability to stay away from an ex boyfriend, keeping secrets, and not being able to accept his other world. 

“If you weren’t we wouldn’t be having this conversation.” You breathed out, finally finding the will to push Miguel away from you so that you could steady your breathing and smooth out your clothes. “I’m not about to be your side chick, Miguel. And if you’re willing to cheat on your wife then you’re willing to do me dirty as well.” You explained, turning to look at yourself in the dressing room mirror while Miguel stood behind you with a sobering look on his face. 

“I don’t love her anymore, she’s not the woman I thought she was. I’m only with her until the lawyers work out a way to ensure I get custody of my son.” 

Your gaze met his in the mirror, a soft sigh on your lips as you tried to sort out how you felt about the admission. “Don’t make this harder on me.” You whisper, his confession didn’t change anything, he was still married and you were still concerned that he was just talking a good game. One you desperately wanted to believe. Picking up his purchases, you left him there in the dressing room, satisfied that you didn’t look like you had nearly let yourself be seduced by the man. 

“Mrs. Galindo, what a surprise to see you here.” Came the voice of the shop owner, almost a bit too loud as if she were trying to warn you that the wife had just walked in. You sighed, just what you wanted to deal with that day. You stepped into the main area of the boutique, a forced smile on your lips as you took in the blonde standing there at the counter. She regarded you for a moment, almost dismissively with a sniff as she read the name on the badge you wore. It was a name she had seen often, in fact your name was on every single one of the receipts that Emily had pulled from the boutique's bags when she was going through them. Miguel always insisted you ring him up so that you reached your sales quota. Clearly Emily was feeling some type of way now that she was finally able to lay eyes on you. 

You were everything she wasn’t in the looks department, and as confident as she was, you had her shook. Especially when Miguel appeared from the dressing room area of the store and took a moment to place a hand against your shoulder to offer his thanks for always being so helpful. It would have seemed innocent enough had it not been for the way that his hand lingered. Emily’s eyes had zeroed in on it, and Miguel seemed to be oblivious to that fact. You were hyper aware of it, a swell of guilt over taking you at the thought that you had nearly fucked this woman’s husband just minutes ago, and now he was acting like she wasn’t even standing there. 

“Will this be all, Mr. Galindo?” You questioned, stepping away from him and starting to ring up his items while he seemed to take the hint that maybe, just maybe he should not make things harder on you while his wife was standing there. 

“Yes, thank you.” He replied, tone taking on a more reserved quality as he moved to where his wife stood and greeted her with a kiss and a few affectionate words. To your credit you didn’t let yourself glare at the display, even as your stomach twisted with jealousy at the sight. You kept your eyes down, only looking up to give the total which Miguel paid for and then it happened. Emily Galindo found a way to make you feel a little less guilty about wanting to fuck her husband. As you lifted the bag to hand to Miguel, his wife reached out in a flash to snatch the bag from your hands. She had barely had your attention up until that point, but now? Now you were outright staring at her in a way that said the bitch had you all the way fucked up. As if sensing the tension, Miguel was quick to put an arm around Emily and escort her towards the door. Stopping to look over his shoulder to mouth ‘sorry’ at you as he shook his head. 

After that day you were more aware of Emily Galindo’s presence around town, it was almost like she was making appearances just to be seen. Some days even stopping into the boutique to buy something and oh so innocently asking if there was anything to pick up for Miguel. You never assisted her, Emily even going out of her way to have someone else ring up the purchases so your quota would come up short. Of course when Miguel found out about that he found his ways around it, making sure that on the off chance that Emily would make an appearance in the boutique that everything was already paid for and the credit for the sale had gone to you. Things went on like that for a couple of weeks, and you tolerated it. Thinking nothing more of Emily’s behavior as petty, childish, and fueled by jealousy. 

Then came the fateful day that you were working late, and just so happened to catch sight of Emily Galindo in the arms of another man. She even kissed him, on the cheek, the way her lips lingered giving you the impression that there was something more going on. You didn’t know why you did it, but you’d taken a couple of pictures of the exchange between Emily and the man that wore a Mayan kutte. 

The temptation to attach the photos to a text and send them to Miguel was strong, but then the creeping thought of; what if she’s only been chased into the arms of another man because of Miguel’s interest in you? That was the only thing that kept you from setting Emily’s life on fire, but the reprieve would prove to be short lived when a week later Nestor made a rare solo appearance in the boutique as you were preparing to close up. 

“Nestor, you know we’re closing in five minutes right?” You questioned, tone friendly and still welcoming even though you were partly concerned and confused about why he was there. You and Nestor had a cordial and somewhat friendly relationship, it was mostly due to Miguel seemingly insisting that you and his right hand man were on good terms. You didn’t know Nestor well, but you knew he was loyal and cared about Miguel deeply. It was something that you could respect and appreciate, even if you were resistant to starting something with Miguel due to his marriage you had grown to care about him. It was why the pictures of Emily and her mystery Mayan were still burning in your phone and why you’d taken a few more in the days after when her visits became a little more frequent. 

“Yeah I know, I actually wanted to talk to you.” That got your attention, and your hands stilled against the shirts that you were folding. 

“About?” 

“What’s going on with you and Miguel?” 

You took a breath, looking over at the man with an almost tired expression. 

“Nothings going on.” You answered, gaze quickly dropping as you resumed your folding. 

“But you want there to be something.” Nestor was observant, and you supposed you hadn’t been as covert as you possibly could have with your longing glances and wry smiles around Miguel. “You care about him?” 

“Nestor what is this about? Because if you’re here to tell me I should leave him alone then trust me, I already know. Okay? I can’t control what that man does. He’s a cartel leader, he basically owns the town. I have been doing my best to set boundaries, but I can’t make him stop pursuing me. So if that’s why you’re here then you need to have that conversation with him, because I’ve already tried. Alright? I mean I remind him every single time I see him that he’s married.” You were rambling, venting almost as you started to unload all this on Nestor who just stood quietly and listened. 

“Honestly, you don’t know how hard it is for me to see him and pretend that I don’t care about him as much as I do. Or keep things from him because I know it’s not my place to tell him what his wife has been up to.” 

“Wait, what?” 

You shut up then, realizing that in your unburdening you let it slip that you were privy to information that wasn’t known. 

“What has his wife been up to?” 

“Nestor—”

“If you care about him you’ll tell me what you know.” 

That was a dirty card to play, but Nestor didn’t play fair. Sighing heavily you moved behind the sales counter and pulled your phone from where it rested beside the register. “About a week ago I was running a bit late with closing, and I spotted Emily with some guy in a biker kutte.” You explained pulling up the incriminating photos before handing the phone to Nestor so that he could see for himself. His lack of reaction struck you as strange, if anything he didn’t look surprised at all.

“Why didn’t you tell Miguel about it?” He questioned, tapping on the screen and quickly sending the photos to his phone before you could stop him. 

“Well I didn’t think it would be fair of me to blow her up when I’m likely the reason she’s all hugged up with another man. I mean come on, you saw her that day when she came into the shop. I’m sure she’s aware that Miguel has a wandering eye.” 

“He doesn’t have a wandering eye, he just doesn’t love her anymore.” Nestor replied absently as he sat your phone down and focused on his own. “And you aren’t the reason why she stepped out. Miguel’s been suspicious for months now that she’s been trying to rekindle something with her ex.” Your mouth dropped open slightly, brow furrowed as you processed that bit of information. So Miguel hadn’t been lying when he said he was preparing to leave her, and you weren’t the reason why she was seemingly stepping out. That seemed to make any remaining guilt evaporate in an instant. 

“Nestor, could you tell him to call me?” Nestor just nodded, not questioning it as he left you to finish closing up the boutique. 

By the time you got home, Miguel’s name was flashing across your screen and for the first time since he’d manage to somehow get your number, you didn’t chastise him for calling you so late. 

Things only escalated from there, and the two of you began to see much more of each other. There were late night visits, gifts, dates out of town, sometimes even out of state. You’d even been in his house, and around his son and mother while Emily was out doing who knew what. His men had even gotten used to seeing you around, growing fond of you as you always came bearing gifts and a friendly smile for them. Part of you knew that endearing yourself to them would play a big part in them wanting to keep Miguel’s secret relationship with you out of more than just fear of the man. 

Emily still made her appearances, and tempted you to throw it in her face that you knew she wasn’t as devoted and loyal as she tried to pretend she was. You let the truth die on your tongue as you kept up the mask of professionalism while knowing Miguel would be buried inside you by the end of the day.

You put up with it for another month, and in that time things seemed to take a turn for Emily Thomas. First her Mayan ex found himself with a new girlfriend, a pretty girl named Gabriela that you thought was sweet. She’d only come into the boutique you worked at a couple of times looking for a new dress, and you two had chatted easily. You may or may not have told her to leave herself open to the possibility of something blooming between her and the Mayan who you had come to know was named Ezekiel. Apparently Gaby had taken your advice, and now with no other romantic option, Emily was doing her best to try and hold onto her dead marriage. 

Her answer to attempting to stoke the flame between her and Miguel was a resort trip, one where it’d just be her and him while their son remained with a nanny. Jealousy had sparked at that, especially when Miguel agreed to the trip with the excuse of having to keep up appearances. You had been angry, but then you decided to be petty. 

It was just a few pictures, pictures of you wearing nothing but the most recent set of very pricey lingerie that Miguel had gifted you. It was meant to simply remind him what he was missing out on, but apparently it was more effective than you expected. The end of your shift came, and as if on cue Miguel’s black suv came to a halt in front of the building. Before you knew it you were being ushered inside the spacious backseat, and he had you in his arms as he pulled you into his lap with a searing kiss on your lips. 

“What are you doing here? You’re supposed to be with her.” You questioned once you’d caught your breath, and your head had stopped swimming from the kiss. 

“I told her there was an emergency here in Santo Padre, I have to go back in the morning.” He answered, and you didn’t need him to elaborate on what the emergency was. You could feel it pressing up against your core. Something about knowing that the man would rather be with you than on some sunny beach with her stoked your ego in the worst way. Miguel only fed into it as he let his mouth latch onto your neck to leave a trail of open mouth kisses. 

“You just couldn’t resist sending me those pictures could you?” He questioned a moment later, his hands already venturing under your skirt to push your panties aside. By the time the vehicle had pulled off from in front of the boutique he was knuckle deep inside of you, and you were moaning into his neck shamelessly. You were aware of the man in the front seat driving, and to his credit he made sure to keep his eyes on the road and took it upon himself to turn on the radio. It was a false sense of privacy, but you hardly cared as Miguel’s fingers worked that spongy spot nestled in your core that never failed to have your toes curling. 

“I had to remind you what you had waiting on you back home.” You managed to get out, your lipstick smudging against his collar as you moved against his fingers. “Had to give you something to think about in case you had to fuck her.” You added with a mischievous grin that had him growling in the back of his throat. 

“Oh preciosa, were you jealous?” His fingers thrust into you more insistently, bringing a needy moan out of you. “Were you worried that you’d have to share cock this with her?” His question had you pouting for a moment, hating that it was true. “Don’t worry, princesa. It won’t be long before she’s out of the picture, and you’ll have me all to yourself.” It was a promise, you knew it, but part of you was growing impatient with how long things were taking. Luckily for Miguel his fingers inside you were proving to be the perfect distraction from you asking how much longer it’d be before he presented the divorce papers. 

“I’m close, Miguel.” You moaned, hearing his hum of approval as he snaked his free hand up to grip you by the back of your neck as he guided you in for another heated kiss. He worked his fingers against that sweet spot until you were falling over the edge and crying out for him. Miguel swallowed your moans greedily, fingers still thrusting into you as he let you ride out your orgasm against them. 

“That’s my good girl, let’s get inside.” He gave your ass a slap, jolting you back to reality enough for you to realize that he’d brought you to his house. Quickly you moved out of his lap and smoothed out your clothes to be presentable before you got out of the vehicle. There was no need to sneak in, his staff knew you by that point and seemed to like you more than they did Emily. In any case, Miguel wasted no time in getting you into his bedroom and having his way with you. At some point after a couple rounds, and a steamy shower you had pulled Miguel in front of the bathroom mirror to snap a picture with him. It wasn’t the first time you’d taken a picture with him, and just like all the other ones you’d posted on your insta you made sure his face was concealed. 

As the saying goes; No face, no case. 

Except for the fact that you didn’t expect Emily to hunt down your instagram after the vacation was over and she had been stewing with her suspicions. You also didn’t expect her to recognize the setting. More importantly you didn’t expect her to show up at the boutique one night, screaming and raving that she knew you were fucking her husband. Unfortunately that was exactly what had happened. 

Emily blew into the boutique like a storm, making a beeline for you only to be cut off by the two employees that were working while the owner quickly ushered you to the back. You could hear it all though, she sounded insane and she was clearly looking for an altercation. Before you even knew what you were doing you were dialing Miguel. 

“Preciosa, I’m going to hav—”

“How much do you still love your wife?” The question struck him silent for all of a second before you could hear the sound of him moving away from the voices in the background. 

“What type of question is that, you know I don’t.” 

“I’m just making sure, because she’s here making a fucking scene and if I have to put hands on her I’m not about to hesitate.” 

“Mi amor, I’m on my way. Don’t do anything drastic.” 

“I’ll try, but if she doesn’t leave I’m going to make her.” You hung up then, the sound of Emily’s yelling floating back to settle on your ears before you made your way back to the front. You refused to hide from her, and if she wanted smoke you had plenty of it for her. Her yelling ceased for only a moment, just long enough for you to reappear from the back to see her on the phone before she was looking up at you again with an accusing glance. 

“Did you fucking call my husband? You whore! You did, didn't you!” She hadn’t hung up the phone, and you could hear Miguel’s voice shouting for Emily to calm down. It was too late for that, and she had already pushed through the two employees that had been trying to keep you two separated. “You’re so pathetic, you had to call MY husband to save you!” 

And then she slapped you. 

Everything went quiet, so quiet that a pin could be heard dropping. 

“I don’t need a man to save me, bitch. But you’re gonna.” It was the only warning that you gave the bleach blonde before your fist struck out and connected with her nose. There was a crunch but that didn’t stop you from following her down as she fell to the ground. Your fist connected a few more times, before she was grappling with you, having the nerve to pull on your hair before you broke her hold and popped her right in the mouth. Your fist was raised to land another blow before you felt yourself being lifted in the air by strong arms, and your first instinct was to fight until a familiar voice cut through the chaos. 

“¡Cálmate, por favor!” It was Miguel, you had no idea where he had been to get there so fast but you could feel him keeping a firm grip on you as you made an attempt to lunge at Emily as she crawled, stumbled, and dragged herself to her feet unsteadily. 

“Call the police! I want the police!” She screamed, already playing the victim even though she had instigated the ass beating she’d just got. 

“Em—” Miguel had started only to be cut off. 

“No, I want the cops here. Or I want that slut dealt with.” She was bleeding from the mouth, and shaking as she looked around wildly only to find that no one was making a move to do what she wanted. 

“I’m so sorry, Senor Galindo. Your wife, she
” The owner of the boutique shook her head as she glanced between you and the beaten Emily. “She came in here screaming, and then she attacked her. My employee was just defending herself.” The woman explained motioning to you, not realizing that Miguel already knew exactly what had transpired after overhearing the exchange after Emily had forgotten to hang up her phone before she attacked. 

“Is this true?” The question was posed to his men that had accompanied Emily into the boutique and simply stood back and let it all play out. They nodded silently and Emily seemed to realize then that she had no allies. “Nestor, take this young lady and put her in my car.” You couldn’t see it over your shoulder, but you could feel the anger radiating off of Miguel as he glared hard at Emily. Nestor said nothing as he gathered you under one of his arms and guided you past Emily who had the good sense to jump back when you came close. She didn’t move fast enough and Nestor didn’t have as tight of a hold on you as he thought, because as soon as you were close enough you lunged, hands grabbing and latching onto Emily’s blonde hair. 

“Shit!” Nestor shouted, moving after you to drag you back but it was too late. Your grip was already locked in and as he dragged you towards the door of the boutique Emily was dragged along with you kicking and screaming. It took some doing, but between three grown men they were able to get you off of her and outside, but not before you had one last thing to say. 

“Let me know when you’re ready for round two, bitch!” You could hear Nestor sigh as he led you outside, and ushered you into the back seat of Miguel’s car. 

“You okay?” He questioned, sighing again when you didn’t answer and focused your attention on the view outside the window. You were too pissed to speak at the moment, hands still shaking as your body practically vibrated with rage as you fought every instinct to not rush back inside and finish what Emily had started. Just when you were ready to go and do that, Miguel appeared and silently climbed into the back of the vehicle. Carefully he took your shaking hands into his and brought his lips to your aching knuckles to drop gentle kisses against them as he murmured his apologies. 

“I am so sorry, mi amor. This should have never happened, you should have never been put into a situation where you would have to fight because of me.” His words were a bit of a balm to your still simmering temper, and a reminder that you were clearly his priority despite his current marital status. Still that wasn’t enough, and after what had just happened you were done waiting for the right time or the right moment. 

“I’m not doing this anymore.” You said simply, causing Miguel to pause and meet your gaze. “I’m not about to be on the sideline while you play house with that unstable bitch. You either figure your shit out and divorce her or you leave me the fuck alone.” 

You could see the hard set in Miguel’s jaw as he let your words settle in his mind. “Preciosa I—” 

“No! That woman came to my job, called me out my name, and put hands on me. You don’t get to sweet talk your way out of this. I’m done until you show me that you’re no longer a married man.” You hated giving an ultimatum but the events of the night had left you with no choice. “Oh, and if I see her again I’m beating her ass on sight every time. Now take me home.” 

Miguel hadn’t argued with you, letting you stay on your side of the vehicle the entire ride back to your place. His attempt at saying goodbye was cut off by the slamming of the suv’s door as you stalked to the front door of your apartment. 

A month went by with no calls, no text, and no appearances from Miguel. Emily was MIA as well, and life was quiet. Part of you figured that Miguel had turned out to be just another married man who wanted to have his cake and eat it too. So you did the only thing you could, you tried to move on despite the bitter heartache that you felt. You figured it was the price you had to pay for falling for a married man, rarely did they ever actually leave their wives. Especially when there was a child in the mix. You didn’t doubt that he wanted out, but the saying has always been ‘it’s cheaper to keep her’ for a reason. 

By the second month you found yourself in a new relationship with a man who was single when he met you. He was kind, handsome, he had a good job, and he doted on you. He didn’t judge you when you finally told him why your last relationship fell through. Another four months passed and the relationship blossomed, you weren’t necessarily in love with him yet, but you thought to yourself that you could see yourself falling if things stayed that good. At least that was what you kept telling yourself in an effort to bury that little bit of your heart that still yearned for Miguel. 

The fact that he was on your mind when you heard the knock at your front door should have been a warning, but you weren’t expecting any visitors that evening so cautiously you made way towards it. 

“Who is it?” 

“It’s me, preciosa.” It’d been so long that you were surprised enough to immediately open the door just to make sure that voice belonged to who you thought it did. Seeing Miguel standing there had you torn between slamming the door in his face or inviting him in. “Can we talk?” 

He was lucky that you were calmer now that enough time had passed. Seeing him again seemed to rip open old wounds, and as much as you didn’t want to you couldn’t help but stare. He was the last person you expected to show up at your door, and part of you was happy to see him again. Another part of your though was torn and wary at his presence. He wanted to talk, and despite your warring emotions you wanted to hear what he had to say. 

“Yeah, we can talk.” You stepped aside and gave him room to enter your humble apartment. Closing and locking the door behind him you watched as Miguel made himself comfortable on your sofa and waited for you to settle in beside him. You sat yourself at the far end of the sofa, giving him an expectant look that whatever he needed to say now was the time to say it. 

“The divorce got messy,” He started, and you could feel your heart stammer in your chest. You expected him to say that Emily convinced him to stay with her, but his next words surprise you. “It took longer than I wanted once papers were served, but it’s done.” 

“It’s done?” You repeated the words, and he nodded. 

“She tried to use the photos from your social media as proof that I cheated first. The judge threw it out because there was no actual proof that it was me in the photos.” 

Despite the seriousness of the moment you let out a small laugh. No face, no case indeed.

“Ironically enough, her attacking you that night was enough for me to convince the judge to grant me full custody of Cristobal. She still gets supervised visits though.” He continued to explain. 

You merely nodded, accepting that. “She’s his mother, it’d be cruel to cut her out of his life entirely.” You replied, keeping your tone even. “Now that you’ve gotten everything that you wanted, what are you doing here?” 

Miguel shook his head, moving closer to you until he was close enough to pull you against him. “I don’t have everything I want. I don’t have you back with me yet.” It would have been so easy to simply give in right then and there, being in his arms again felt so right, and knowing that all this time he’d been wanting you helped to heal the heartache. But then your mind wandered to your current boyfriend, and you forced yourself to ease your way out of Miguel’s arms and once again put some distance between the two of you. You hated to see the confusion that crossed his features, but the man you were dating now was a good man and he didn’t deserve to have you stepping out on him now that Miguel was choosing to pop back into your life. 

“Look, I’m happy that you’re out of an unhappy marriage,” you started, steeling yourself for what you had to say next. “But when I didn’t hear from you for two months I stopped waiting around.” You told him, and before he could interrupt you continued. “I know you probably couldn’t have come around or reached out personally because of the divorce proceedings, but a man like you has so many resources and you didn’t use any of them. You can’t blame me for thinking you chose your marriage over what we hav—had.” You were quick to correct yourself, but Miguel heard the small slip up and it told him what he needed to know. 

“You’re right, mi amor. I assumed you would wait, and that was unfair to do without letting you know what was happening, but—”

“No buts, Miguel. I’m with someone now, I have a boyfriend that has no attachments to another woman and he treats me really well. He makes me happy,” but Miguel made you feel so much more than happy, and you knew it, but the thought of breaking another’s heart so selfishly had you refusing to acknowledge what you truly wanted. “I...I think you should go, thank you for letting me know the time we spent together was real but I can’t just jump back into bed with you now that you’re free. He’s a good man and he doesn’t deserve that.”

It wasn’t the answer Miguel wanted to hear, but you were determined to at least try and be a good person this time around. Miguel nodded, jaw set so hard you could see the muscle ticking when he stood to his feet and walked towards the door of your apartment. You hated to let him go, and you knew better than to look over your shoulder in his direction but you still did it anyway. “I’m not giving up on us, preciosa. Your new man might be good, but he’s not me.” 

His words lingered in your mind long after he was gone, and you wondered what he was planning. You found out a week later when you went to pay rent only to be told that it had been paid up for the remainder of your lease. You hadn’t exactly been excited to hear that, and your attempts to call or text Miguel had all led to you being unable to reach him. A week after that a bouquet of your favorite flowers, and a box in a certain recognizable blue shade was delivered to your door, you knew it was from Miguel. Your new man always got you roses instead of your favorites, and the two of you weren’t in the jewelry giving stage of your new relationship yet, and seeing that blue box had you suddenly feeling wary. A quick search on the website had you furiously dialing Miguel’s number, only for him to send you to voicemail. Your texts were left on read, and despite knowing that he was forcing your hand to go to him, you did anyway. You needed to return this damn necklace and let Miguel know that you weren’t about to be swayed by expensive gifts. 

The guards, and the household staff were all too happy to see you again, and despite your determination to put boundaries in place you couldn’t shake the bittersweet feeling of being back there. God you missed him, and this place, and all the people here but you were resolute in your decision to not give in to the temptation of running back to Miguel. 

“He’s been expecting you.” The familiar voice of Nestor informed you once you stepped into the living room. Eyeing the little blue Tiffany’s bag in your hand he merely shook his head and motioned towards the direction of Miguel’s office. You offered up a quiet thank you, heels clacking loudly against the expensive flooring of the Galindo mansion. You didn’t stop at the door, striding in with purpose and confidence that nearly collapsed at the sight of Miguel sitting behind his desk in a suit that only made him look more attractive than he already was. 

“Preciosa, to what do I owe this pleasant surprise?” His question caused you to narrow your eyes in his direction. He knew damn well why you were there, but clearly he was going to play games. You huffed, annoyed that you weren’t really all that annoyed as you sat the Tiffany’s bag on his desk with an expectant look on your face. Miguel followed the movement, a smirk tugging on the corners of his lips as he reached out to slide it towards himself. “So you got my gift, good, but you didn’t have to come all this way just to thank me.”

Rolling your eyes you crossed your arms over your chest and shook your head. “I’m not here to thank you Miguel, I’m here to return that ridiculously expensive necklace.”You shot back, doing your best to stand firm when Miguel stood from his chair and began to slowly circle his way around his desk. A desk that held several memories that you were trying not to think of at the present moment. “I’m not in the habit of taking back gifts, mi amor.” He replied, voice smooth as honey while he kept you in his sights. For a moment you felt like prey being closed in on by the wolf, and truly you might as well have been considering you’d done exactly as Miguel wanted you to by going to see him that day. 

“Miguel, that necklace is over one hundred thousand dollars. I can’t accept something like that from you.” You challenged, gasping when the sudden feeling of Miguel’s hands on your waist all but burned through the dress you wore. For a moment you simply stood there, nails biting into your palms as you curled them into fists to fight off the urge to reach out and touch Miguel. it was all you could do to steel yourself and resist the man that was testing your patience like no one else could. 

“You can and you will.” Slowly he turned you around, making you face his desk while he stood close enough for his body heat to seep into you, and the smell of his cologne to invade your senses. You hadn’t realized that your eyes had slipped closed until they flew open at the feeling of cold metal against your warm skin. Before you could protest Miguel quickly fastened the far too pricey necklace around your neck, leaving the diamond pendant to settle against the hollow of your throat. You didn’t expect the feeling of his lips pressing a lingering kiss to the underside of your jaw after that, and the soft gasp that flew from your lips was unmistakable. 

For a moment you just let yourself stay there relishing the feeling of his beard softly scraping against your soft skin as he left a slow trail of kisses along your shoulderblade, but soon enough warning bells began to ring loud and clear in your mind. This was dangerous, and you were falling right into the trap that you swore you were going to avoid. Quickly you stepped away from Miguel, needing space to breathe and distance so you could think clearly. “Dammit.” You cursed under your breath, tears of frustration brimming in your eyes while you tried to avoid looking at the man who you were desperately trying to resist. “Why? Why are you doing this?” You questioned, tone accusing as you motioned between the two of you. 

You knew why, but some twisted part of you needed to hear him say it. 

“Because I love you, preciosa, and I’m not giving up on us when I know you still feel the same about me.” His words cut like a knife right through all the bullshit reasons you’d been repeating to yourself since the day he’d shown up to tell you he was done with Emily, and still wanting you. Every rebuttal that you had died on your tongue, no denial of your own feelings would make its way past your lips. All you could do was rush from the room before he could get his hands on you again. 

You didn’t remember the necklace until later that day after you’d taken a long shower to try and wash away the guilt of being in love with another man while you had a devoted and caring boyfriend. The diamond pendant glared at you from the mirror, glinting brightly in the low lights and reminding you of the moment that Miguel had put it on you. You had half a mind to take it off, you should have taken it off, and yet when you moved to do so you couldn’t bring yourself to remove Miguel’s token of affection from around your throat. Perhaps you were a bad person, the invasive thought trickled in making you turn away from the mirror with a frustrated sigh. 

That night you didn’t sleep peacefully. You tossed and turned all night, memories of Miguel invading your dreams and leaving you on edge and irritable by the time morning came. An early morning text from your boyfriend was left on read, your shift at the boutique dragged on, and by the end of the day you only barely remembered that it was date night. You didn’t want to go, but you knew that your boyfriend had jumped through hoops and saved all so he could treat you to dinner at some expensive restaurant an hour outside of town. For some odd reason the thought of it filled you with dread, like there was something looming just on the horizon that you couldn’t see yet. It had a pit settling in your stomach as you rushed home to shower, primp, and get dressed for something that had you feeling damned. 

The car ride to the restaurant was spent with you engaging in the most minimal conversation while your fingers toyed idly with Miguel’s necklace. When asked what had you so down you simply lied, playing it off as just being tired from having to work that day. Your boyfriend bought the excuse easily enough, and by the end of the drive you were starting to feel guilty for your sour mood. You resolved yourself to be in a better mood for the rest of the evening, reminding yourself that just a month ago you were excited about the prospect of dinner at this place. So with a convincing, yet fake, smile you walked hand in hand into the building with your boyfriend. 

Your smile immediately deflated when you saw that the table you were to be sitting at was only a few tables away from one currently occupied by Miguel and another woman. Instantly you felt dizzy. Thankfully you were already in the process of sitting, otherwise you were sure that you would have fallen over from the shock of seeing the man again so soon, and with another woman in his face. Anger, and bitter jealousy swirled in the pit of your stomach as you glanced over at their table from the corner of your eye. There was no telling what they were discussing, and Miguel’s back was to you so you couldn’t see his expression. All you knew was that he was making this woman smile, and she was laughing a bit too much for your liking. 

With a deep breath in, and a slow exhale out you forced yourself to ignore it and try to enjoy your night. It was easier said than done but you managed to get through appetizers and a couple glasses of wine before everything seemingly came crashing down. It started with your boyfriend nervously gearing up to say something while you worriedly waited for him to spit whatever it was he wanted to say out. 

“I’ve been trying to think of the best way to say this but, um
well the best way to say it is to just say it.” He paused for a moment, and you nervously brought your glass of wine to your lips with the intention of sipping at it. “I love you.” 

You choked and sputtered into your wine glass, some of it spilling out and landing on your dress while you clumsily tried to place your glass back onto the table. It landed on the edge, and soon it shattered on the floor with a crash while you were jumping out of your seat. Your gaze moved to Miguel’s table, meeting his gaze as he watched you curiously before noticing the man on the other side of the table trying to help clean up the mess. His gaze grew hard and dangerous at the sight of your boyfriend, and the only thing you could think to do was leave. “I need to go, sorry.” Words rushed out of you as you turned on your heels and nearly ran to the restroom, choosing to take the individual family stall for a bit of much needed privacy. 

You didn’t see Miguel excusing himself from his own table and following after you at a distance, nor did you expect him to take advantage of you forgetting to lock the door behind you and slipping into the restroom stall. You were caught up in trying to steady your breathing and fight back the wave of nausea that had hit you that you didn’t even notice Miguel there at first. Too busy cursing yourself for being so stupid and selfish and letting things get this far, how had you missed the signs that things had gotten this serious? Were you truly that oblivious to the man you were dating falling in love with you? 

“God dammit.”  You hissed, a hand smacking down on the sink as you resisted the urge to yell in frustration. There was no way you could go back out there and return the sentiment without it being a lie, and now more than ever it was clear that you wouldn’t ever get there with your boyfriend. You were still very much in love with Miguel, and seeing him tonight with someone else only made that abundantly clear. 

“Mi amor
” His voice was both a balm, and salt in the wound. The sound of it had you whirling around to face him, and before you could stop yourself you had stalked over to him and laid a hard slap against his cheek. 

“Who is she?” You demanded, ignoring the hard flash of his eyes when he refocused on you. “Who is that woman out there? Does she know about me? Does she know that you were lying to me just yesterday about still loving me?” You pushed at his chest, anger, shame, and hurt all mixing into one confusing emotion as you lashed out. God you felt so stupid, and suddenly the necklace that hung daintily around your neck felt heavy as an anchor. Miguel caught your hands in an iron grip, quickly backing you up against the restroom's sink, and with his other hand he grabbed you by the chin. 

“Calm the fuck down.” His tone was darker than you’d ever heard it, and laced with something else that you could clearly identify as lust. It had you swallowing thickly, and suddenly remembering yourself. “That woman is a business associate that I’m trying to impress. Nothing more, nothing less.” The explanation was enough to make you feel embarrassed for the outburst, and unable to meet his gaze any longer. “Look at me.” The command was followed almost instantly, and you couldn’t help but squirm under the intensity of Miguel’s stare. “I meant everything I said.” He continued, leaning in close enough to tease you with the closeness of his mouth to yours. 

“I—”

“No. You don’t get to speak unless you’re begging me to remind you who all this,” He emphasizes the word by letting go of your hands to instead grab a handful of your ass. “belongs to.” Clearly you weren’t the only one feeling the jealousy of seeing the one you loved with someone else. Heat swirled in the pit of your belly, and the all too familiar ache that only Miguel could sate settled in. Heart hammering in your chest you let out a shuddering breath and nodded to which Miguel only jerked you forward the smallest bit. “Use your words, mi amor.” 

“Please.” It was barely a whisper, but it was enough to spur him into action. Your dress was pushed up over your hips and in a quick move Miguel had you spun around and facing the mirror. All you could do was brace your hands against the restroom's sink as the sound of a zipper coming down filled your ears. Eyes closed you swallowed a moan when you felt your panties being pulled to the side before his length was dragging against your damp folds. You ground back against him, only for him to catch you by the hips and force your movements to still. Slowly he teased you, spreading your slick arousal over his length until you were whimpering and begging him to fuck you. 

Finally he had mercy on you and began to press his way inside your tight entrance. You bit down on your bottom lip, quieting the moan that desperately wanted to make its way out of you. He sank into you slowly, taking his time in getting reacquainted with the feel of you wrapped around him and sucking him in deeper. You pushed back, already greedy for more of him after denying yourself for so long. Breath rushed from you at the first snap of his hips, and you barely had time to try and catch it before another hard thrust of his cock jolts your hips forward only for you to sink back onto him with a shaky moan that’s almost too loud for your current setting. 

“Not so loud, preciosa. We wouldn’t want everyone to hear you getting fucked like a slut.” Miguel’s taunting had you clenching around him, and when you felt his hand snaking up your side and wrapping around your throat to squeeze you couldn’t help but moan again. Eyes locked on the reflection of the two of you, you felt as if you couldn’t look away from Miguel as he finally claimed what he had been missing for all those months. He wasn’t gentle as he rutted into you, making you take every thick inch while his hand squeezed around your throat just enough to keep your air restricted. 

“Fuck, that’s it
that’s my good girl.” He ground out between his teeth, hips snapping forward hard enough that you were sure anyone on the other side of the door could hear if they were close enough. Not that you expected anyone to interrupt or try to get past whoever was likely guarding the door. Knowing that someone outside possibly knew what was happening inside the restroom only excited you further, and any thought of your boyfriend being the one to hear the two of you was far from your mind. The only man that existed in the moment was the one currently pounding into you from behind. “You’re mine, aren’t you?” He said, and you could only nod with a desperate moan when you felt him thrusting into you harder. 

His unrelenting pace had you nearing the edge quicker than you realized, and when you felt his other hand sliding between your thighs so that his fingers could circle against your bundle of nerves you were teetering on the edge. Eyes falling shut you tried to chase your high, but Miguel had other plans.  “Open your fucking eyes, watch yourself cum on this cock.” The growled words had your eyes snapping open to view the lewd scene before he had you cumming with a strained cry. Walls pulsing and clenching down around his cock, Miguel was no match for the way your body milked him for his spend. Spilling every drop as deeply as he could inside of you with a strained curse on his lips. The hand at your throat loosened and you sucked in air, panting and legs shaky when you tried to stand yourself up properly. Miguel steaded you before he silently fixed your clothes back in place and turned you back around to face him. 

“You’re going to go out there with me dripping out of you and break up with him.” 

Suddenly you remembered who you were there at the restaurant with and guilt began to settle in and sour the post-coital bliss.

“No more excuses, now it’s your turn to show me you’re serious. I’m done sharing my woman with some undeserving bastard.” Reaching up to take you by the chin he directed your gaze to his. “Either you end it with him, or I’ll do it myself.” The ultimatum was followed by a searing kiss that left you stunned for a moment. “Your choice, mi amor, but one way or another you’re coming home tonight.” 

Miguel left you then, exiting the restroom and leaving you to grapple with what you’d just done, and what he expected from you now. Taking in a deep breath you knew you had only one option, so you made the awkward trip back to your table. Sitting back down you couldn’t help but feel a mixture of arousal and guilt as Miguel’s spend continued to drip from your core while you sat there preparing to break up with your boyfriend. 

“I don’t love you, and I don’t think I ever will and I’m sorry it took me this long to realize that but it’s over.” You rushed your way through the words but you could tell that your now ex boyfriend had understood each and every one. He sat in silence for a moment, jaw working as he did his best to keep his emotions in check. You simply sat in silence, watching him as he stood up abruptly, threw a few bills on the table to cover the dinner, and with a glace over his shoulder glared at Miguel who was now alone and watching it all play out. Part of you suspected he might have said or done something in the time it took you to get yourself together before returning but you didn’t care to ask. 

Soon enough you were left at the table by yourself, and moments later joined by Miguel who stood by your chair with his hand outstretched. Silently you slipped your hand into his and let him guide you up from your chair and towards the entrance.

1 year ago

Someone will remember us

Rated: M

Someone Will Remember Us

Tag: @sansaorgana @ocappreciationtag @stargaryenx @theboyishtree @mercedesdecorazon @arrthurpendragon @darylandbethfanforever9

Or in which Laenor and Rhaenyra were able to keep their agreement resulting in Princess Aemma Velaryon, the second ruling queen of Westeros

Also on Ao3

One shot collection: What Souls are Made of

------

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28(🔞 nsfwish)

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Chapter 32

Chapter 33

Chapter 34

Chapter 35

Chapter 36

Chapter 37

Chapter 38

Chapter 39

Chapter 40

Chapter 41

Chapter 42

Chapter 43

Chapter 44

Chapter 45

Chapter 46

Chapter 47

Chapter 48

Chapter 49

Chapter 50

Chapter 51

Chapter 52

Chapter 53

Chapter 54

Chapter 55

Chapter 56

Chapter 57

Chapter 58

Chapter 59

Chapter 60

Chapter 61

Chapter 62

Chapter 63

Chapter 64

Chapter 65

Chapter 66

Chapter 67

Chapter 68

Chapter 69

Chapter 70

Chapter 71

Chapter 72

Chapter 73

Chapter 74

Chapter 75

Chapter 76

Chapter 77

Chapter 78

Chapter 79

Chapter 80

Chapter 81

Chapter 82

Chapter 83

Chapter 84

Chapter 85

Chapter 86

Epilogue

1 year ago
Yess I Love This

yess I love this

The Golden Heir Ch. 1

The Golden Heir Ch. 1

Being Rhaenyra’s first born child, a lot of eyes were always on you. Mainly the Queen and her children as you were the perfect blend between your parents Ser Laenor and Princess Rhaenyra Targaryen. You shared your fathers complexion of a golden brown and your mothers light violet eyes. Your hair was a mix of silver waves and curls with density coming from your fathers side

Simply by having these qualities you were living proof that your parents held their duties through the Valyrian traditions. It gave your mother hope that she would gain more support from the Velaryons as they were always somewhat cautious of her from the very beginning.

You were the golden child, especially being their first daughter, loved by all, your parents, your grandsire the king, and the rest of the realm as you never failed to make the people at court laugh with your cuteness. You knew what you were doing though, all it took was one look to have the servants and other staff look at you in awe and you had their control.

It helped you get away with so much, if you were caught in the dragon pit or taking a handful of sweets right off the tray all you had to do was play the part of a cute little innocent girl who had no clue as to how those sweets got into your hands, it also helped that you were a princess and your grandsire’s favorite

Perhaps it was from wearing Rhaenyra’s clothes from when she was your age, although they were altered to fit your physique more, you still looked somewhat identical. When she gave them to you her excuse was “I kept these in high hopes that I would have a daughter one day. I’m sure you will look much more beautiful and ravishing in these than me when I was your age”

The compliment made you shy away a bit as you chuckled and hugged your mother thanking her for the gifts. Life was going wonderful, but as you started to grow, you had grown to be more aware of what was going on around you.

~~~~~~~

You were always accustomed to rumors as it was expected for being in the royal family and had never thought anything of it. It wasn’t until after your mother birthed both your brothers that you began to actually pay attention to the rumors that spread whenever they were present.

You may have been a bit young but you were no fool when it came to the distinct features you did not share with your other siblings or to a certain knight. You would have agreed with some of the words that were being said about them, but seeing as your parents were enforcing the teachings of protecting family with your life you had to bite your tongue on certain occasions when they made you upset.

Whenever new rumors were spread within your vicinity you tried your best to shut it down but you figured that eventually the rumors would die out. There was rarely any talk that involved you, but when it did it was mainly about who you were to be betrothed to or if you were to be named the next heir like your mother. Not as serious compared to your brothers.

One day you confronted your mother about it as she brushed your ruly hair putting some pins in to hold its shape, “Mother”, You started as she stopped her humming to listen. “Yes daughter?” She questioned. “If my brother’s were bastards, then would the realm hate us?” You tried to ask in the most sincerest way but couldn’t find the words and decided to just say it

 She paused with a shocked expression that was mostly seen in her eyes. Choosing her next words wisely. 

 She sighed while turning you around to face her. She reassured you through her motherly tone while cupping your face “Y/N  my sweet, sweet girl. Do not worry my child for they are as much of a true Targaryen as you`` “Yet my brothers barely hold any resemblance to me. Why is that?” 

True curiosity burned away at you as you asked the question. “They may not look like your father, but that doesn’t mean they do not have his character. You all have such good hearts, exactly like him. Now that is a true Velaryon trait”

Looking down a bit ashamed that you asked your own mother such a thing she only brushed a strand of a loose curl behind your ear as she smiled lightly. Her dimples showing.

But the truth was that she was worried about your observation skills and always lurking around when the family drama was getting a bit out of control. She knew you were too smart for your age and started to understand the ways of past kings and their habits. But, she knew that if you stuck your nose in the wrong business that it could possibly cost you your life.

As she held you close with your foreheads touching she whispered “Y/n you must listen to me very carefully when I say this. No matter what the gossip or rumors are about us
our family. Never believe them, unless they come directly from me. There are people who will try to break your spirit through nasty words but you mustn’t let them win.

Keep your head held high and show everyone how proud the Targaryen house is. Show them what it means to be the three headed dragon and why we are closer to the gods of old Valyria`’

Since that day you never questioned yours or your siblings birthright from your mother. Letting go of any worry for yourself, you devoted yourself to being a good big sister to your young siblings

It was both fun and frustrating at times as they continued to grow. Thankfully though they started to find interest in other things that didn’t involve you around your 10th name day.

So you took the time to retreat in the gardens of the red keep with Helaena as she collected insects.

You didn’t mind, she was a quiet and reserved person, occasionally speaking in a twisting tongue. The exact opposite from your chaotic brothers which was rather refreshing at times. When she first started to speak in riddles 

You tried your best to solve them but grew tired with the extra activity and instead chose to occupy the silence with observing your uncles and brothers swinging their swords at one another. You knew the customs of being a noble lady. Swords weren’t even supposed to be in your vocabulary or anything of that sort. 

~~~~~~~~

Your father would see you eyeing the boys whenever you were near the area and stood beside you striking conversation. “ladies shouldn’t be alone in the courtyard” he said, “I’m aware father, but I am only here to support my brothers through their training” 

You let out a quick sigh, “are you trying to convince me or yourself?” he asked, Looking up at him you never could lie to your father or trick him like the others “You can always speak your mind with me” He said as he leaned forward on the stone railing to be more at your height. “it’s just
it isn’t fair that my brothers can train and do all they want while I’m stuck with embroidery classes and a septa that watches me all the time” 

You started fidgeting with your nails as you complained, hearing the swords clash against one another from a distance. Almost lost in thought until your fathers voice brought you back.

 “Well, you’re right. A lady shouldn’t be doing those things
However, if you were to take private lessons for dancing then maybe you could do just that” Looking up at him in surprise. You understood his tone and what his words meant. This wasn’t the first time you had suggested something like this.

You had almost convinced him shortly after your baby brother Lucerys was born until your mother overheard and shut it down as she thought you were still too young.

You smiled, scanning across the area in search of your mother. Not seeing her anywhere you knew this was your chance. “That is a splendid idea, father. May I pleasee?” You begged him, making a face and clasping your hands together. “Well your name day already did pass
.So, I suppose you are of age now”

As he made a face before nodding and you hugged his waist thanking him. He held your hair as he chuckled and whispered, “If your mother hears of this. I’ll try my best to have her see eye to eye with us” You couldn’t think of your mothers reaction at the moment as you were in too much bliss from the news that you would finally learn what your brothers and uncles had been training for.

(A/N): apologies for being gone so long, too much has happened to explain on here but now that i’m back I will try to get back into the groove of writing again
wish me luck

3 weeks ago
Should I Write Or?!!!!

Should I write or?!!!!

Should I Write Or?!!!!

I'm taking matters into my own hands đŸ˜«đŸ˜«đŸ˜«


Tags
1 year ago
lov4gor3 - đŸ–€

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x Fem!Targaryen-Velaryon!Reader. Yes, this is targcest!! Mostly centered around Everyone x Reader, tho. Set in HOTD S1x7: Driftmark.

Traits/Features: i usually keep the readers descriptions ambiguous/unspecific but for obvious reasons, reader is mixed (though, her skin color - as well as her eye color -- isn't mentioned, it's heavily implied) and she has the traditional Targ/Velaryon white/silver hair.

Warnings: Includes the use of Y/n. As it says above, this contains TARG-CEST, arranged by marriage!!! You have been warned. Twice. You're responsible for your own media consumption. Though, unlike other fics, I don't find it necessary to point out how they're related (if that makes sense). Brief mention of a major character death!! (Aka Laena's death). As this is set in the episode Aemond's eye was taken, his mutilation is also included (nothing too graphic tho). Despite all these warnings, the fic as a whole is more on the fluffy/general side.

Disclaimer: I dont own ASOIAF/HOTD or it's characters, nor do I claim to own them. Nor do I own the dividers/images used. All credits goes to their respective owners.

Targ Divider Credits: @/dingusfreakhxrrington.

Inspo for this fic: [X] | Click this Link to see more Velaryon!Reader works.

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen X Fem!Targaryen-Velaryon!Reader. Yes, This Is Targcest!! Mostly Centered Around
Pairing: Aemond Targaryen X Fem!Targaryen-Velaryon!Reader. Yes, This Is Targcest!! Mostly Centered Around
Pairing: Aemond Targaryen X Fem!Targaryen-Velaryon!Reader. Yes, This Is Targcest!! Mostly Centered Around
Pairing: Aemond Targaryen X Fem!Targaryen-Velaryon!Reader. Yes, This Is Targcest!! Mostly Centered Around

Imagine... Being Rhaenyra and Laenor's trueborn daughter and earning the title, 'The Realm's Light'.

Or... In which, everyone witnesses the first acts of diplomacy, displayed by the makings of a future Queen.

To say, you were the last bit of light to grace the stone walls of Driftmark and its peoples, was an understatement.

The fight that broke out between the two Targaryen houses, was enough to test anyone's patience, but with the death of their only daughter - and unborn grandchild - still fresh in their hearts, Corlys and Rhaenys had little energy to fight back with, much less, to attempt at settling a score that had long-sinced been brewing.

But it's with the collective gasps of shock, emitting from those closest to the entrance of the halls' double doors, did everyone evert their eyes from the damage Viserys' ignorance was gonna ensue, in favor of looking upon the beauty, whose sleep was rudely interrupted by her families' quarreling.

A gasp of her own, leaving her lips. "What's going on here?!"

There, at the center of all the chaos, came an angel in the form of Rhaenyra and Laenor's only true born daughter, and rightful heir, Y/n Velaryon.

The array of candles that lined the walls of the great hall, lit the path behind her, and formed a halo-like glow around the silver of her hair -- the sight akin to that of a dragon hatching from the flames, of its incubation chamber.

This dragon, however - although young and just a girl - was one many adored, and favored the most, over her siblings, not just because she was the only legitimate child of the Princess and her Lord Husband, but for her compassion and devotion to those who needed it.

Her betrothed, especially, being the one of many to be graced with such kindness.

Though, it had been a union, cultivated by King Viserys, purely on the bases that his crumbling and dying house be better fortified, it wasn't until now, did people - and Aemond, more importantly -, realize that initial kindness you paid the king's second son, wasn't out of obligation but out of the kindness of your heart.

The level of protectiveness and empathy you had shown the mutilated boy, and even better, the diplomacy you'd shown your brothers and cousins, and your good mother, Queen Alicent, in letting them each speak their truth - as the adults had lacked to do - in getting to the root of the problem, having turned every ill thought, Otto had engraved into Alicent's mind - and by extension, into Aemond's - about Rhaenyra and her brood being 'entitled little pricks', completely on its head.

The events that followed the infighting at Driftmark, having convinced everyone well enough, that the true Ruler of the Seven Kingdoms, lie not with Rhaenyra, or even the kings firstborn son, Aegon ll, but with you.

The Realms Light.

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen X Fem!Targaryen-Velaryon!Reader. Yes, This Is Targcest!! Mostly Centered Around

A/N: Sorry for the month long wait (wait-- A MONTH?!! HOW TF DID THAT HAPPEN, lol?!), I was in the middle of moving. More chapters will be out soon.

(This fic was written and posted by ©noonesgoneuntiltheyregone, previously known as nightowls-multifandom-imagines on: 28/05-27/06/23). Please don't copy, claim or repost my works!! You may like and reblog my works tho!!

Empty/Sus blogs will be blocked upon interaction!!

1 year ago

people are so mean omg

Almost all the reasons Daemyra stans hate Dattles are the same reasons they should hate their own ship.

Similarities between Daemyra and Dattles.

They both have cheating. (Daemon is married to Rhea Royce when he starts to pursue Rhaenyra. Despite this a lot of Daemyra stans like to use the excuse that at that point in time Daemon and Rhea were having “problems.” When Daemon starts to pursue Nettles he is married to Rhaenyra but just like Rhea, he and Rhaenyra are having “problems.”)

They both have an age-gap. (While the age-gap between Daemon and Rhaenyra is less than the age gap between Daemon and Nettles, but we must remember however that when Daemon first meets Nettles she is by Westeros standards an adult, whereas Rhaenyra wasn't.)

Children

Then there are some who say they don’t like Dattles because Daemon had children specifically with Rhaenyra during when all of this was going down. These children being Aegon III and Viserys II. This troubles people because they worry how that would affect Aegon and Viserys's view of what a healthy relationship let alone a marriage should look like.

But the same people neglect the fact that (at least show wise) not only do Daemon and Rhaenyra's actions (Rhaenyra having an affair with Harwin while being married to Laenor, Daemon being at the very least a emotionally unavailable husband to Laena and a neglectful parent to Baela and Rhaena ) but also their marriage (them getting married so quickly after the death of their respective marriage mates and in Rhaenyra’s case also her lover) could have very well given Jace, Luke, Baela and Rhaena an unhealthy view of what a healthy relationship should look like.

Grooming

Rhaenyra and Daemon:

He gave her pearls and silks and books and a jade tiara said once to have belonged to the Empress of Leng, read poems to her, dined with her, hawked with her, sailed with her, entertained her by making mock of the greens at court, the "lickspittles" fawning over Queen Alicent and her children.

Eustace, the less salacious of the two, writes that Prince Daemon seduced his niece the princess and claimed her maidenhood. When the lovers were discovered abed together by Ser Arryk Cargyll of the Kingsguard and brought before the king, Rhaenyra insisted she was in love with her uncle and pleaded with her father for leave to marry him. King Viserys would not hear of it, however, and reminded his daughter that Prince Daemon already had a wife.

"When he looks at you, he sees the little girl you were, not the woman you've become," Daemon told his niece, "but I can teach you how to make him see you as a woman."

He began by giving her kissing lessons, if Mushroom can be believed. From there the prince went on to show his niece how best to touch a man to bring him pleasure, an exercise that sometimes involved Mushroom himself and his alleged enormous member.

Daemon taught the girl to disrobe enticingly, suckled at her teats to make them larger and more sensitive, and flew with her on dragonback to lonely rocks in Blackwater Bay, where they could disport naked all day unobserved, and the princess could practice the art of pleasuring a man with her mouth. At night he would smuggle her from her rooms dressed as a page boy and take her secretly to brothels on the Street of Silk, where the princess could observe men and women in the act of love and learn more of these "womanly arts" from the harlots of King's Landing.

Viserys at first refused to believe a word of it, until Prince Daemon confirmed the tale was true. "Give the girl to me to wife," he purportedly told his brother. "Who else would take her now?" Instead King Viserys sent him into exile, never to return to the Seven Kingdoms on pain of death.

Nettles and Daemon:

Maester Norren writes that "the prince and his bastard girl" supped together every night, broke their fast together every morning, slept in adjoining bedchambers, that the prince "doted upon the brown girl as a man might dote upon his daughter," instructing her in "common courtesies" and how to dress and sit and brush her hair, that he made gifts to her of "an ivory-handled hairbrush, a silvered looking glass, a cloak of rich brown velvet bordered in satin, a pair of riding boots of leather soft as butter." The prince taught the girl to wash, Norren says, and the maidservants who fetched their bath water said he oft shared a tub with her, "soaping her back or washing the dragon stink from her hair, both of them as naked as their namedays.”

To which his brother answered, "It may be we shall be destroyed whatever choice we make. The prince is more than fond of this brown child, and his dragon is close at hand. A wise lord would kill them both, lest the prince burn Maidenpool in his wroth."

All we know is that the maester, a young man of two-and-twenty, found Prince Daemon and the girl Nettles at their supper that night, and showed them the queen's letter.

"Weary after a long day of fruitless flight, they were sharing a simple meal of boiled beef and beets when I entered, talking softly with each other, of what I cannot say. The prince greeted me politely, but as he read I saw the joy go from his eyes, and a sadness descended upon him, like a weight too heavy to be borne. When the girl asked what was in the letter, he said,

'A queen's words, a whore's work.' Then he drew his sword and asked if Lord Mooton's men were waiting outside to take them captive. 'I came alone,' I told him, then foreswore myself, declaring falsely that neither his lordship nor any other man of Maidenpool knew what was written on the parchment. 'Forgive me, My Prince,' I said. 'I have broken my maester's vows.' Prince Daemon sheathed his sword, saying, You are a bad maester, but a good man,' after which he bade me leave them, commanding me to 'speak no word of this to lord nor love until the morrow.’ ”

No word of farewell was spoken betwixt man and maid, but as Sheepstealer beat his leathery brown wings and climbed into the dawn sky, Caraxes raised his head and gave a scream that shattered every window in Jonquil's Tower. High above the town, Nettles turned her dragon toward the Bay of Crabs, and vanished in the morning mists, never to be seen again at court or castle.

That Prince Daemon died as well we cannot doubt. His remains were never found, but there are queer currents in that lake, and hungry fish as well. The singers tell us that the old prince survived the fall and afterward made his way back to the girl Nettles, to spend the remainder of his days at her side.

+Bonus

[As to the girl Nettles, "She is a common thing, with the stink of sorcery upon her," the queen declared. "My prince would ne'er lay with such a low creature. You need only look at her to know she has no drop of dragon's blood in her. It was with spells that she bound a dragon to her, and she has done the same with my lord husband." So long as he was in the girl's thrall, Prince Daemon could not be relied upon, Her Grace went on. Therefore, let a command be sent at once to Maidenpool, but only for the eves of Lord Mooton. "Let him take her at table or abed and strike her head off. Only then shall my prince be freed."]

—Rhaenyra about Nettles.

Conclusion

Personally whether or not someone ships either of these couples is up to them. I however can’t stand a hypocrite, and I’ve noticed that’s what a large percentage of Daemyra stans are especially when it comes not only to Dettles but Nettles as a whole.

And I especially as a black woman, can’t stand the misogynoir that I've seen Team Black (and Green) display when it’s comes specifically to the black/blackish women in House of the Dragon.

Almost All The Reasons Daemyra Stans Hate Dattles Are The Same Reasons They Should Hate Their Own Ship.

This was eloquently put đŸ™ŒđŸœ I’ve got nothing to add except my praise, I love how you have shouted out Team Green's antics cause they also b!tch and moan about how it makes Daemon a villain(and not all the other crap he’s done) to choose Nettles over his psychotic racist wife.

I too didn’t really care about Dumbnyra, its stans, and its sympathizers until they started going off on a hate campaign against Daemon and Nettles.

Very unserious bunch of racist morons who think they can get away with calling Black/Blackish women the n-word: ïżŒ

Almost All The Reasons Daemyra Stans Hate Dattles Are The Same Reasons They Should Hate Their Own Ship.

Yes, that was directed at Laena, but it's only a matter of time before Team I don't want Nettles to be on the show, and if she is on the show don't let her be a Negro, goes calling Netty the n-word too for “ruining” their Appalachian mountain realness ship.

Or throwing a temper tantrum because a canon character, who despite their best efforts to ignore her existence or bash her, is all but confirmed to be in the show:

Almost All The Reasons Daemyra Stans Hate Dattles Are The Same Reasons They Should Hate Their Own Ship.

Almost All The Reasons Daemyra Stans Hate Dattles Are The Same Reasons They Should Hate Their Own Ship.

DïżŒon’t get me started on Team Green who are populated by white feminists who believe themselves to be morally superior when in reality they are just as racist as Team Dumbnyra or bust when it comes to Nettles and her relationship with Daemon:

Almost All The Reasons Daemyra Stans Hate Dattles Are The Same Reasons They Should Hate Their Own Ship.

(The irony is not lost to me how they point out Rhaenyra’s racism then proceed to treat Nettles like a toddler or sometimes even defend Rhaenyra’s racism because she’s a womanđŸ€Ș Black women shouldn’t be in romantic relationships in their minds)

Or those upset because they can’t use Nettles (like how they wanted to because in their mind she’s only there to show how evil Daemon is to their white sister) to dunk on Daemon:

Almost All The Reasons Daemyra Stans Hate Dattles Are The Same Reasons They Should Hate Their Own Ship.

I can't take these people seriously when they complain about Dattles and label it problematic when they ignore their ships problems.

Alysmond(still love you, but I’ll drag some of the white and non-Black fans who are suspect), Rhaicent, Helaemond(aka Hellmanns), and Dumbnyra are all equally if not more problematic than Dattles.

(I have a mini rant on this in my drafts that I’ll post this weekend).

ïżŒTheir anti-Black misogynoir is clouding their views on Daemon and Nettles.

1 year ago

still thinking about how hotd made laena daemon's second choice because he couldn't have rhaenyra. still thinking about how they made laena basically live in rhaenyra's shadows, knowing that she'll never be HER. still thinking about how even her death was about making rhaenyra's death look better with that "dragonrider" death bs. still thinking about how they aged laena down \ up to make viserys and daemon look better. still thinking about how they had her husband sleep with the woman he "truly wanted" all those years he was married to her on her funeral. laena deserved better.

1 year ago

Tag, You’re It | Ethan Landry | Masterlist

Tag, You’re It | Ethan Landry | Masterlist

Happy, carefree college days meet their abrupt end when every guy who approaches you mysteriously turns up dead.

Tag, You’re It | Ethan Landry | Masterlist

Warnings: NON-CON, Stalking, Bimbo!Reader, Clueless Reader, Loss of Virginity, Incel Ethan, Cheerleader Reader, Skin Carving (w/knife), Canon Typical Slashing, Voyeurism, Kidnapping, Forced Masturbation, Filming, Blackmail

Tag, You’re It | Ethan Landry | Masterlist

𝔩.

𝔩𝔩.

𝔩𝔩𝔩.

𝔩𝔳.

𝔳.

𝔳𝔩.

𝔳𝔩𝔩.

𝔳𝔩𝔩𝔩.

đ”Šđ””.

đ””.

đ”ˆđ”­đ”Šđ”©đ”Źđ”€đ”Č𝔱

2 years ago

me when I see “black” in an author’s bio knowing i’m finna read and reblog their whole account 💀😭

Me When I See “black” In An Author’s Bio Knowing I’m Finna Read And Reblog Their Whole Account
Me When I See “black” In An Author’s Bio Knowing I’m Finna Read And Reblog Their Whole Account
1 year ago

Compliance - Chapters list

Compliance - Chapters List

Summary:  Following her act of defiance, a history teacher finds herself in the crosshairs of Hydra’s Supreme Leader, Steve Rogers.

Pairing: Hydra Supreme! Steve Rogers x Black! Reader

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