#;; she is so *home* to others that they see her home her dream as theirs

[pdriesta]

"you don't need no air, you can just breathe me"

pairings — judexblack!girl

genre —fluff, celebrity romance, music video shoot

warnings — sexual themes (minors dni)

word count — 8k

summary — under the city lights of osaka, y/n's music video shoot transforms into a canvas for her profound, all-encompassing love for jude. from playful karaoke sessions to tender kisses, their chemistry is palpable. as they document their romance on camera, they're prepared to take their love public, revealing to the world just how deeply they’re in love.

an — when i tell you i'm obsessed with this song. i knew i had to write about it. this fic is based on the music video of tyla's, breathe me. i would suggest watching to get the vibes of the fic.

masterlist

it all started with a chance meeting—her cousin, one of jude’s teammates, had invited her to madrid for a weekend getaway, thinking she needed a break from the chaos of her rising fame. she had just finished her second world tour, and her voice was everywhere, on every radio, every playlist, but her heart? her heart felt heavy, weighed down by the pressures of being in the spotlight, by always being seen but never really understood.

it was supposed to be just a casual dinner after one of jude’s matches, nothing serious. but from the moment they locked eyes, something clicked. she remembered how shy he had been at first, his usual confidence seeming to falter as he stumbled over his words when they were introduced. she had laughed—softly, the kind of laugh that made his heart race. and from that night on, they were inseparable. not in the obvious, bold way. it was in the quiet moments, the late-night calls when they’d stay up talking about everything and nothing. about music, football, life, dreams. he’d send her snippets of songs he’d found, songs that reminded him of her, and she’d stay on the phone with him while he described in detail the feeling of scoring a goal in front of thousands of fans.

their connection grew over time, a slow burn of longing, affection, and undeniable chemistry. he’d fly out to see her whenever he had a break in his schedule, slipping into her life like he’d always been there—helping her pick out studio outfits, sitting quietly in the corner while she recorded, offering encouragement when she was frustrated. she never had to explain anything to him. jude just understood her in ways no one else ever had.

they made long distance work in a way that felt easy. it wasn’t perfect; there were challenges, but they both cared enough to try. jude made her laugh in moments where she felt like breaking down from the pressure, and she gave him a sense of peace, a place to escape the noise of his own fame. no one really knew about them—whispers, sure, but nothing confirmed. she liked it that way, liked having something that was just theirs. no media frenzy, no cameras in their faces, just… them.

and then one day, after months of dancing around it, jude had asked her to be his girlfriend. they were in london, staying at a little hotel she loved for its vintage charm, and he had looked so nervous. she remembered the way his hands had fidgeted with the edge of his hoodie, the way he had stared at her for a beat too long before finally blurting it out. “i want to be with you… properly. no more ‘friends’ thing. just… us.”

she had smiled, that soft, secret smile she saved just for him, and said yes. and from that moment, they were it for each other.

it had been weeks since they’d last seen each other in person—weeks filled with endless phone calls, facetime sessions, and voice notes, but it wasn’t the same. she had just wrapped up her album launch in her home city, a huge milestone that marked her rise to superstardom. the long flight straight from the launch party to madrid felt like a blur, but she couldn’t care less. she was finally going to see jude.

the moment she stepped through the door of jude’s house, the smell of she smelt dinner from the kitchen and smiled to herself, dropping her bags by the entrance and heading towards the source. there he was, standing by the stove, his back to her as he stirred a pot of something on the burner. she stood there for a second, just watching him, the domesticity of it all filling her chest with warmth. how did she get so lucky?

“i missed you,” she said softly, her voice cutting through the quiet.

jude turned around immediately, his eyes lighting up the second he saw her. without a word, he crossed the room in two long strides and pulled her into his arms, holding her so tight it almost took her breath away.

“you’re here,” he murmured into her hair, his voice thick with emotion. “god, i missed you so much.”

she clung to him, feeling the steady thud of his heartbeat against her chest. “missed you too. so much.”

they stood like that for a moment, just holding each other, the rest of the world fading into the background. no paparazzi, no cameras, no pressure. just them. finally, jude pulled back slightly, his hands still resting on her waist as he looked down at her, a soft smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

“you didn’t have to fly out so soon,” he said, his thumb brushing over her hip. “you just finished your album launch—you must be exhausted.”

“and miss out on cooking for my hard-working boyfriend?” she teased, her smile widening. “you need a proper meal after all that training. besides, i wanted to be here with you.”

he chuckled, leaning down to press a kiss to her forehead. “you’re amazing, you know that?”

“i know,” she said with a playful grin. “now, let me help. what are you making?”

“it was supposed to be a surprise,” jude admitted, a sheepish look crossing his face. “but, uh… you know i can’t cook. i need your help with the rice.”

she laughed, shaking her head as she moved to the stove, taking over the rice. it didn’t take long before they fell into an easy rhythm—her stirring the pot, him chopping vegetables at the counter. they chatted about everything and nothing, catching up on all the little details they hadn’t been able to share over the phone. it felt natural, comfortable. like home.

as they cooked, jude kept stealing glances at her, unable to stop the smile from spreading across his face. god, he’d missed her. missed her laugh, missed her voice, missed the way she made everything feel so easy.

“so,” he started, watching her as she plated the food, “congratulations on finishing the album.”

she turned to him, her face lighting up. “thank you. it still doesn’t feel real, you know? like, after all these months… it’s finally done.”

“i’m so proud of you,” he said, his voice soft but full of sincerity. “i know how much work you put into it.”

she felt her heart swell at his words, warmth spreading through her chest. “you helped me more than you know,” she admitted. “all those late-night calls when i was stressed out… you were there through it all.”

“of course i was. i’ll always pick up no matter the time, ” jude said, stepping closer to her. “i wouldn’t have missed it for the world.”

there was a beat of silence as they stood there, the weight of their shared experiences hanging in the air. it had been a long road—balancing their hectic schedules, making long-distance work, supporting each other through the highs and lows. but somehow, they’d made it. they were stronger because of it.

as they sat down at the table, jude watched her, something unreadable in his eyes. she looked up at him, raising an eyebrow.

“what?” she asked, her voice teasing.

he grinned, leaning back in his chair. “i have a surprise for you.”

“another one?” she laughed, already feeling spoiled just by being with him.

“yeah,” he said, his grin widening. “i know how much you’ve been wanting to take a break, and, well… i thought now would be a good time.”

she tilted her head, curiosity piqued. “okay, go on.”

“we’re going to japan,” jude blurted out, unable to contain his excitement any longer.

her eyes widened, her fork clattering against her plate as she stared at him in disbelief. “wait, what?”

“i booked us a trip,” he continued, his grin now fully stretching across his face. “to celebrate your album launch. you’ve been talking about japan forever, so i thought… why not?”

she blinked, her heart racing as she processed his words. “japan? like… actually?”

he nodded, his eyes twinkling with excitement. “yep. we leave in two days.”

without thinking, she launched herself across the table and into his arms, her excitement bursting out of her in a flurry of kisses. “jude, you didn’t!”

he laughed, wrapping his arms around her tightly, holding her close. “i did. anything for you.”

she pulled back just enough to look at him, her eyes shining with tears of joy. “i can’t believe this. i’ve always wanted to go…”

“i know,” he said softly, brushing a strand of hair away from her face. “and now we get to go together.”

she kissed him again, her lips lingering against his as she whispered, “thank you.”

“you deserve it,” jude murmured, his lips brushing against hers. “all of it. and now, we get to have some time for just us.”

they stayed like that for a moment, lost in each other, the excitement of the trip already buzzing between them. finally, she pulled back, a wide grin still plastered on her face.

“okay, i need to pack,” she said, already getting up from the table.

“oh no, you don’t,” jude said, standing up and pulling her back into his arms. “you’re staying right here”

she laughed, her arms wrapping around his neck as she leaned into him. “you’re terrible.”

“you love it,” he teased, kissing her softly. “besides, we’ve got two days. plenty of time to pack later.”

she sighed, knowing he was right but still feeling the urge to get everything ready. but as his lips brushed against her neck, his hands slipping under her shirt, she decided packing could wait a little longer.

“fine,” she murmured, her voice breathless, “but only because you’re distracting me.”

“good,” he whispered, his lips trailing down her neck, “that’s the plan.”

she could still feel the lingering warmth of jude’s embrace from earlier as they sat on the floor of his bedroom, surrounded by open suitcases. after dinner, they hadn’t even bothered finishing, too caught up in the excitement of their upcoming trip to japan. it was something they’d talked about for months—her dream destination, a place she’d always wanted to visit for the culture, the food, the fashion, and now, the two of them would get to explore it together.

she was still buzzing from the excitement, barely able to focus on packing as she sat across from him now, folding clothes with a distracted smile on her face.

"japan, jude!" she grinned, still giddy from his surprise. "i can't believe you did this."

he chuckled, watching her with that soft, adoring look that always made her heart skip a beat. “how could i not? you’ve been talking about it forever.”

“but still…” she leaned forward, her hands cupping his face. “thank you.”

his eyes softened, and he gently brushed his thumb over her cheek. “anything for you.”

they stayed like that for a moment, their foreheads resting together, their breaths syncing. the world outside felt distant, irrelevant compared to the warmth they shared in that little bedroom. he made everything feel so easy, so right. she didn’t want to hide that anymore.

“jude,” she started, her voice a little quieter now, “i’ve been thinking…”

he pulled back slightly, searching her eyes, sensing the shift in her tone. “what’s on your mind?”

she hesitated for a second, gathering her thoughts. “i don’t want to hide us anymore.”

his brow furrowed, surprise flashing in his eyes as he stilled, hands lightly resting on her hips. “what do you mean?”

“i mean…” she bit her lip, her heart pounding. “i’m tired of pretending like we’re just friends. everyone already suspects something, and i don’t want to keep this a secret. i want the world to know about us. i want to be with you—fully. no more hiding.”

he studied her for a long moment, his expression softening, concern flickering in his gaze. “are you sure? you don’t have to do this because of pressure or anything. i’m okay with how things are, as long as you’re comfortable.”

her heart melted at his words, at the way he always put her first. she smiled, her hand sliding down to rest on his chest. “i know you are. but i’ve thought about it, and i’m ready. besides…” her eyes twinkled with mischief, “i want you to be in my next music video.”

his face lit up, his earlier concern dissolving into excitement. “wait, what? seriously? i can finally be in one of your videos?”

“yep,” she grinned, loving the way his excitement bubbled up, the way he could never hide how happy he was. “i want you in the next one.”

“which song?” he asked, already running through ideas in his mind.

“breathe me,” she said, her voice soft and full of meaning.

his expression changed in an instant, turning tender and sentimental. “that’s my favorite,” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. “you know how much that song means to me.”

before she could respond, jude picked her up and gently tossed her on the bed, his arms wrapping around her as he buried his face in her neck, peppering her skin with kisses that sent a thrill through her body. “my beautiful, talented girlfriend,” he whispered against her skin, his voice warm and full of pride, “and now the whole world will know she’s mine.”

she laughed, trying to wiggle out from under him, her heart swelling with affection. “you’re so possessive.”

“you love it,” he teased, his lips lingering at the sensitive spot just below her ear, making her toes curl.

“maybe i do,” she admitted, her fingers threading through his soft curls, tugging lightly in a way she knew he loved. his breath hitched against her neck, and she felt a rush of satisfaction at the effect she had on him.

they stayed like that, tangled in each other, their suitcases long forgotten on the floor. jude’s hands roamed her sides, his touch sending warmth through her with every brush of his fingers. his kisses grew slower, more deliberate, each one leaving a trail of fire in its wake. she sighed into him, her body relaxing under the weight of his love, feeling the world around them blur into nothingness.

“jude,” she whispered, her voice soft, breathy. “what about packing?”

he grinned against her skin, his breath warm as he kissed the spot just below her ear again, his favorite spot. “forget it. packing can wait.”

she smiled, knowing full well they’d regret it later when they were rushing to pack last minute. but right now? none of it mattered. all that mattered was him—the way he made her feel like she was the only person in the world, the way he looked at her like she was everything he had ever wanted.

he kissed her again, this time on the lips, slow and deep, his hand cupping her jaw as he tilted her head back slightly. she melted into him, her arms wrapping around his neck, pulling him closer until there was no space between them. she could feel his heartbeat against her chest, steady and strong, grounding her in the moment.

“i love you,” he murmured against her lips, his voice soft, full of sincerity. “so much.”

her heart swelled, the words wrapping around her like a blanket of warmth. she pulled back just enough to look into his eyes, her thumb tracing his jaw. “i love you too,” she whispered, her voice thick with emotion.

he smiled, leaning down to kiss her again, and she knew—no matter what, they’d be okay. they’d face the world together, hand in hand, no more hiding, no more pretending.

just them. together.

the next two days blurred together in a mix of tangled sheets, stolen kisses, and whispered confessions. it was as if the world outside ceased to exist, and all that mattered was the two of them, making up for lost time. they hadn’t been apart for that long, but being in each other’s arms again felt like they were rediscovering something they’d been craving for weeks.

y/n spent her time meticulously double-checking packages, ensuring everything they needed for the trip to japan was in order, while jude would laugh at how organized she was, teasing her every time she opened her meticulously crafted itinerary.

“it’s been my dream forever,” she’d say, her eyes bright with excitement, “and you made it happen. my baby made it happen.”

he couldn’t help but smile at the pride and joy in her voice. she had been riding a high since the moment they got back together—he loved seeing her like this, full of light, full of excitement. the exhaustion from her long flight seemed to disappear in the wake of her adrenaline-fueled happiness.

the night before their flight, she could barely sleep. her mind was too busy buzzing with thoughts of their upcoming adventure, her excitement bubbling over to the point where she couldn’t contain it. just before dawn, she woke jude up by straddling him in bed, her knees on either side of him as she bounced excitedly.

“jude, wake up!” she whispered loudly, her hands on his chest, her grin wide.

he groaned, still half-asleep, but when he cracked open one eye and saw the look on her face, he couldn’t help but laugh. “what time is it?” his voice was groggy, heavy with sleep.

“time to go to japan!” she beamed, leaning down to kiss his forehead. “come on, get up! we have to get ready.”

he wrapped his arms around her waist, keeping her firmly in place, even as she squirmed on top of him. “you’re too energetic for this early,” he mumbled, but the smile on his face betrayed his words.

“come on, jude,” she giggled, leaning down further until her face was inches from his. “aren’t you excited?”

“i’d be more excited if i got a few more hours of sleep,” he teased, but when she pouted at him, he gave in, lifting his head to kiss her gently. “fine, fine. i’m up.”

they got ready in their sweatsuits, her braids knotted on the top her head, his curls wild and unruly, both looking far too casual for the excitement of the adventure ahead. they skipped breakfast, their — mainyly y/n’s — nerves too high for eating, and after a short ride to the airport and a whirlwind of travel logistics, they were on their way.

the first few days in japan felt like a dream.

jude watched her, amazed, as she lit up at every turn, her eyes wide with wonder, soaking in every detail of the places they visited. they wandered through bustling markets, she dragged him through every boutique she could find, and he snapped photos of her at every chance he got. she had insisted on buying a digital camera for the trip, wanting to capture every moment, every memory, and it hadn’t left his hands since.

“stop,” she laughed, playfully swatting at him as he pointed the camera at her for the hundredth time, snapping a candid shot of her mid-laugh.

“never,” he grinned, lowering the camera just slightly to catch her eyes. “you’re too beautiful not to capture.”

her cheeks flushed, a smile tugging at her lips as she playfully rolled her eyes. “you’re too much sometimes.”

they walked hand-in-hand through the streets of tokyo, exploring temples, visiting art galleries, and trying every food stall they could find. one evening, as the sun set over the skyline, they found themselves in a quiet park, surrounded by cherry blossom trees in full bloom. the petals fell like soft pink snowflakes, covering the ground in a delicate blanket, and she stood in the middle of it all, spinning slowly, her face lifted toward the sky, eyes closed as she let the moment wash over her.

jude, as usual, couldn’t help but snap a picture.

“you’re obsessed,” she teased when she caught him, her voice light with affection.

“can you blame me?” he said, walking over to her and pulling her into his arms. he kissed her gently, the soft petals falling around them like confetti.

their days were full of exploration, but the nights were intimate, a contrast to the busy city around them. they’d return to their hotel, collapsing onto the bed in fits of laughter or quiet exhaustion, and he’d hold her close, pressing soft kisses to her shoulder, her neck, her jaw.

one night, after a long day of sightseeing, they returned to their room, y/n still riding high on the joy of everything they’d seen. she was bouncing around the room, too excited to wind down.

“you’re like a kid on christmas,” jude said with a laugh, watching her flit around.

“i can’t help it!” she grinned, “everything here is just so perfect. i don’t want it to end.”

“well, we’ve still got a few days,” he said, walking over and wrapping his arms around her waist, pulling her against him.

she let out a soft hum, leaning back against his chest, tilting her head to the side to give him better access as he kissed her neck. “we should go to the baths tomorrow,” she said softly, her voice almost dreamy. “it would be so relaxing…”

“whatever you want,” jude murmured against her skin, his hands running up and down her sides, sending a shiver through her.

her breathing hitched slightly, her body responding to his touch. she turned in his arms, wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling him into a slow, deep kiss. their movements were languid, unhurried, like they had all the time in the world.

they made love slowly that night, the city lights casting a soft glow through the windows, illuminating the room in shades of gold and pink. every touch, every kiss felt more meaningful, more intense, like they were imprinting the memory of this trip into each other’s skin.

afterward, they lay tangled in the sheets, her head resting on his chest, his fingers lazily tracing patterns on her back.

“i’m so happy,” she whispered, her voice barely audible. “this trip, everything… it’s all perfect.”

he smiled, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “i’m glad. you deserve this.”

they drifted off to sleep like that, wrapped in each other, the weight of the world feeling light and far away.

the next morning, she woke up before him, as usual. the sunlight filtered in through the curtains, casting a soft glow on his face. he looked peaceful, his chest rising and falling steadily with each breath. she watched him for a moment, her heart swelling with love for this boy who had made all her dreams come true.

unable to resist, she straddled him again, just like she had done before their flight, her fingers gently tracing the lines of his jaw.

“wake up, sleepyhead,” she whispered, leaning down to kiss him softly.

he groaned, blinking his eyes open, a sleepy smile spreading across his face as he realized what was happening. “again?” he teased, his hands instinctively settling on her hips.

“can’t help it,” she grinned, leaning down to kiss him again, her heart light with the joy of knowing they had so much more time to explore, to make memories, to just be together.

and in that moment, nothing else mattered. just them, their love, and the promise of more adventures to come.

jude burst through the door of the karaoke parlour with a grin so wide it practically lit up the room. y/n was perched on his back, arms wrapped loosely around his neck, her laughter echoing in the small space as he carried her inside effortlessly. she had tried to walk, but jude had insisted, saying something about conserving her energy for the important things—like singing.

"i'm perfectly capable of walking, you know," she teased, resting her chin on his shoulder as her fingers played with the collar of his hoodie.

"oh, i know," jude replied, flashing her a wink in the mirror as they passed by. "but where’s the fun in that? besides, i gotta keep my girl close."

her heart fluttered at the casual way he said it, like it was the most natural thing in the world. and to him, it probably was. they had been inseparable since landing in japan, and with every passing hour, he found more ways to remind her just how much he adored her.

"we're supposed to be shooting a music video, not messing around," she said, her voice half-scolding but filled with warmth as she tightened her grip on him.

"who says we can’t do both?" he chuckled, adjusting her on his back as he carried her further inside, the neon lights reflecting off the polished floors. "besides, you look cute up there. the cameras will love it."

she rolled her eyes playfully, but the blush on her cheeks gave her away. jude always knew how to make her feel like she was the center of his universe, even in the middle of all the chaos.

they reached the private karaoke room, and her manager, waiting by the doorway, shook his head with an amused smile. "you two look ready. just be yourselves, have fun, and don’t worry about the cameras. this is the first scene, so let’s make it a good one."

"no problem," jude responded, setting y/n down gently. she slid off his back, her feet touching the ground with a light thud, but he didn’t let go of her. instead, his hand immediately found its place on her waist, fingers brushing the fabric of her shirt

“you ready?” he asked, his eyes full of excitement.

she smiled up at him, feeling the electric buzz of the moment. “always.”

and with that, they stepped inside the cozy karaoke room, neon lights casting a soft, colorful glow over everything. jude, ever the gentleman, let her lead the way before pulling her back into him, wrapping his arms around her from behind as they took in the vibe of the place.

the energy in the karaoke bar shifted as the lights dimmed further, casting a neon glow across the small space. the hum of excitement lingered in the air, and y/n felt her heart race in time with the music that was about to fill the room. this wasn’t just another part of the music video shoot—it was a reflection of them. and in a place like this, with jude by her side, the lines between acting and reality blurred effortlessly.

“okay, just be yourselves, have fun, and let it feel natural,” her manager reminded them with a smile before leaving them to their own devices.

as soon as the door closed, jude grabbed one of the microphones, his signature mischievous grin already in place. he was a ball of playful energy, and y/n couldn’t help but match his excitement. he tugged her toward the couch, pulling her onto his lap before she could even protest.

“jude!” she laughed, settling into him, her back pressed against his firm chest as his arms wrapped around her waist possessively.

“what?” he raised his brows innocently, the mic still in hand. “i’m just getting comfortable.” his fingers gently traced patterns along the curve of her waist, his warmth radiating into her skin even through the fabric of her clothes.

she rolled her eyes, half-heartedly swatting his chest. “you’re going to be a distraction.”

“that’s the plan, baby.” he leaned in closer, his breath warm against her neck, sending a delicious shiver down her spine. “besides, i know your song better than you do. someone has to carry this performance.”

y/n opened her mouth to respond, but before she could, the familiar beat of her song filled the room, and jude jumped right into the first verse, completely stealing the moment. his voice was loud and exaggeratedly dramatic, deliberately off-key just to make her laugh. and it worked.

she tried to hold it in, but his enthusiasm was too infectious, and she burst out laughing, her body shaking against him as she grabbed for the mic. “jude, give me that! it’s my song!”

but he held the mic just out of reach, his grin widening. “oh, you mean our song?” he teased, pressing a quick kiss to her temple before continuing to belt out the lyrics like he was performing a sold-out concert. “i’m doing you a favor, really. don’t want you to get tired singing the whole thing.”

y/n couldn’t help but laugh, settling back into his embrace as he sang the first verse, but when the chorus hit, she grabbed the mic back and joined in, their voices blending in a mix of playful harmony. jude’s offbeat delivery was charming, the kind of over-the-top ridiculousness that only he could pull off, while her smooth vocals carried the melody.

they were completely in sync, leaning into each other, both singing along to her words, their bodies touching in subtle but intimate ways. jude’s hand rested low on her hip, his thumb tracing small circles that sent warmth through her body. her fingers absentmindedly played with the curls at the nape of his neck as she sang, feeling the familiar comfort of his touch, the way his presence always seemed to calm her nerves.

as the lyrics flashed on the screen, jude continued to tease, taking over the mic every chance he got, his lips brushing against her ear as he whispered the words, his voice sending a thrill through her.

“i know you love it when i sing your songs, baby,” he murmured between verses, his breath warm against her skin. “can’t help myself.”

she shook her head, her smile softening as she glanced back at him. “you’re impossible.”

“you love it,” he shot back, his voice low, his gaze locking with hers in a way that made her stomach flip.

maybe she did. his energy was intoxicating, pulling her into his orbit without even trying. she turned slightly in his lap, her hands finding his chest as they both continued to sing, the playful atmosphere morphing into something more charged, more intimate.

jude’s fingers played at the hem of her shirt, his touches light and teasing, sending jolts of warmth through her body with every brush of his fingertips. the lyrics of her song spilled from his lips, but there was something about the way he sang them that made her heart race.

“you’re making this hard to focus,” she whispered, her voice soft and laced with affection as she leaned closer, her lips hovering near his.

he smirked, his hand sliding up to cup her face gently. “maybe i’m just giving you some inspiration.”

before she could respond, he pulled her closer, his lips brushing hers in a soft, lingering kiss that made her forget about everything else—the cameras, the crew outside, even the song playing in the background.

she deepened the kiss, her fingers curling into his shirt as she let herself get lost in him, in the way his hands felt on her skin, the way his lips moved against hers. it was the kind of kiss that made her feel like they were the only two people in the world, and she had to remind herself that they were supposed to be filming a music video, not getting completely caught up in each other.

when they finally pulled away, breathless, jude’s forehead rested against hers, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “see? told you i’d make it memorable.”

she bit her lip, fighting the smile that threatened to take over. “you always do.”

the second verse started, and y/n picked up the mic again, this time determined to actually sing her own song. she sang the words softly, her voice steady, and as she did, she could feel jude’s eyes on her, watching her with that soft, adoring gaze that always made her heart skip a beat. he didn’t need to say anything—his touch, his closeness, and the way he looked at her said everything.

when the chorus came back around, he joined in again, this time matching her tone more seriously, their voices intertwining perfectly. he pulled her even closer, his hand resting low on her hip, grounding her in a way that made her feel like nothing else mattered but the two of them.

they were wrapped up in each other, the music flowing around them, their voices blending together like they had been doing this forever. and in a way, they had. this wasn’t just for the cameras—this was them, this was real, and it felt perfect.

by the time the bridge came around, jude was back to being playful, his lips brushing her ear as he whispered the lyrics along with her, his hands exploring the curves of her body in a way that was subtle enough to stay out of the shot but still made her heart race.

as the final notes of the song played out, y/n turned to face him fully, her knees on either side of his legs, her hands resting on his shoulders as she smiled down at him, her chest still rising and falling with the remnants of their playful duet.

“you’re the worst,” she teased, though her voice was filled with affection.

he grinned up at her, his hands resting on her hips, his thumbs rubbing small circles into her skin. “the worst, huh? i thought i was your muse.”

“you are,” she admitted softly, leaning in to kiss him quickly, her lips barely grazing his. “but that doesn’t mean you get to steal my spotlight.”

he chuckled, pulling her closer so that her forehead pressed against his. “you’ll always have the spotlight, baby. i’m just here to support you.”

they stayed like that for a moment, the intimacy between them palpable as the world outside their little bubble felt distant and unimportant.

the music video crew could’ve been filming for hours, but y/n barely noticed. with jude by her side, everything felt like a dream—a perfect blend of laughter, music, and playful touches. every time she sang a verse, he’d find some way to distract her, whether by stealing the mic or trailing kisses along her jawline.

and when he wasn’t singing, he was watching her, his eyes never leaving her as she sang the words she had written, words that felt all the more special because he was there, right beside her.

the streets of osaka buzzed with life, the vibrant energy of the city wrapping around them like a warm embrace. jude and y/n strolled hand in hand, their fingers intertwined as they navigated through the crowd. the neon lights from the shops and street vendors painted everything in a kaleidoscope of colors, casting a soft glow over them as they walked.

jude’s arm draped protectively around y/n’s shoulders, pulling her close. every so often, he’d lean down and press a quick, affectionate kiss to her temple, his lips brushing her skin with a tender warmth. y/n’s head rested against his shoulder, her smile bright and carefree as they moved together through the bustling streets.

“this place is incredible,” y/n said, her voice filled with excitement as she took in the sights and sounds of osaka. she reached up to gently squeeze jude’s hand, her eyes sparkling with joy. “i’m so glad we’re here.”

“me too, baby,” jude replied, his tone soft and affectionate. “i wouldn’t want to be anywhere else, especially not without you.”

he guided her around a particularly crowded corner, the arm he sling over your shoulder guiding you, his touch firm but loving. whenever they encountered a bump or a tricky step, jude was quick to steady her, his concern evident as he made sure she was safe and comfortable.

“watch your step here,” he said, his voice filled with a mix of playfulness and care as he helped her over a small uneven patch in the pavement. his hand lingered on her waist for a moment longer than necessary, his touch a reassuring presence.

y/n chuckled, her heart fluttering at the way he always seemed to anticipate her needs. “i’m not going to trip, you know. but thanks for looking out for me.”

“always,” jude said, his smile warm and genuine. he wrapped his arms around her from behind, pulling her close and resting his chin on top of her head. “besides, i like having you this close. makes me feel like i’m doing something right.”

they continued their leisurely stroll, moving past street vendors selling everything from colorful trinkets to delicious-smelling street food. jude’s protective nature was evident as he scanned the surroundings, making sure no one intruded on their personal space. every now and then, he’d glance down at y/n, his gaze soft and full of affection.

as they walked, jude playfully lifted y/n off her feet, spinning her around in a circle before setting her back down gently. her laughter rang out, a clear, melodic sound that made jude’s heart skip a beat.

“jude, stop! you’re making me dizzy!” y/n laughed, trying to regain her balance as she looked up at him with a playful grin.

“just making sure you’re having fun,” he teased, his eyes twinkling with mischief. he reached out to tuck a stray lock of hair behind her ear, his touch tender and intimate.

“i am,” she said, leaning into him as he wrapped his arms around her again, their bodies pressed close together. “i’ve never had so much fun just walking around.”

they wandered into a quaint little alleyway, where the atmosphere felt more intimate and personal. the soft glow of paper lanterns hung above them, casting a warm, golden light. jude and y/n continued to walk, their bodies perfectly in sync, their shared smiles and stolen glances making every moment feel special.

at one point, y/n stopped to admire a small, handcrafted item at a street stall. jude watched her with a loving gaze, his hands tucked into his pockets as he observed her fascination with the delicate piece. he stepped closer, his presence a comforting shield as he stood beside her.

“you should get it,” jude suggested, his voice low and gentle. “it’ll be a nice memento from our trip.”

“you think so?” y/n asked, looking up at him with a soft smile.

“definitely,” he said, leaning in to press a kiss to her cheek. “anything that makes you smile is worth it.”

the vendor handed y/n the item with a warm smile, and jude watched as her face lit up with happiness. he couldn’t help but feel a surge of pride at the sight of her joy.

throughout their exploration, jude kept his camera ready, capturing every moment. “seriously, y/n,” he’d say, showing her a photo. “you look incredible. how do you manage to be so beautiful all the time?”

y/n would laugh, her cheeks flushing slightly. “you’re too much, jude. stop making me shy.”

“it’s true,” he’d reply, his gaze affectionate. “you’re always beautiful. i just want to remember every single moment with you.”

as the evening drew near, the city lights began to sparkle even more brightly, and jude and y/n found themselves at a charming little café. jude opened the door for y/n, his hand on the small of her back, guiding her inside with a loving touch.

“i think we’ve earned a little break,” jude said, his voice warm as he led her to a cozy corner table.

“i agree,” y/n said, slipping into the seat with a content sigh. she looked up at jude, her eyes full of affection. “thank you for making today so perfect.”

“anything for you, baby,” jude replied, his voice full of sincerity. he leaned in to kiss her softly, their lips meeting in a tender, intimate moment that spoke of their deep connection.

as they settled into their seats, jude’s protective instinct remained evident, but it was clear that his concern was born from love and admiration. with every touch and glance, jude made sure that y/n knew how much love he had for her.

the night’s air in osaka was filled with the tantalizing aromas of street food as jude and y/n found a cozy spot on the curb in front of a bustling food truck. the city’s neon lights flickered around them, creating a vibrant backdrop to their simple yet perfect moment.

they sat close together, their knees almost touching as they shared an assortment of delicious street food. jude held a skewer of yakitori, and with a playful grin, he offered it to y/n.

“here, baby, try this,” he said, his eyes twinkling with mischief.

y/n took a bite, her eyes widening in delight. “oh my gosh, that’s amazing!” she exclaimed, leaning in to give jude a quick peck on the cheek. “you did well.”

jude chuckled, his gaze soft and affectionate. “well, I guess it’s not just the food that’s amazing.” he picked up a piece of takoyaki and offered it to y/n with a teasing smile. “open wide.”

y/n giggled, taking the bite and savoring the rich, savory flavor. “you know, if you keep feeding me like this, i might just get used to it.”

“oh, I’m counting on it,” jude replied, his voice low and flirtatious. he leaned closer, brushing his lips against y/n’s ear. “i love taking care of you, baby.”

y/n shivered slightly at his touch, a smile spreading across her face. “you’re always take care of me,” she murmured, her cheeks flushing.

jude’s fingers brushed against y/n’s as he took a sip from his drink, their hands lingering together for a moment longer than necessary. he gazed at her with a look of adoration, his thumb gently caressing her hand.

“you know,” jude said softly, leaning in to press a tender kiss to y/n’s neck. “you look absolutely beautiful, even with street food smeared on your face.”

y/n laughed, her heart fluttering at his affectionate gesture. “oh, stop it,” she teased, playfully nudging him with her shoulder. “has anyone told you, you’re quite the charmer, “bellingham?.”

“i can’t help it,” jude replied, his eyes sparkling with warmth. “you’re just so perfect, baby. i can’t help but let you know how much i adore you.”

they continued to feed each other, their playful banter punctuated by affectionate touches and teasing kisses. jude would occasionally lean in to press a soft kiss to y/n’s temple or brush his lips against her cheek, making her heart race with happiness.

“jude, you’re making it hard for me to eat my food,” y/n said with a playful pout, trying to hide her smile.

“that’s the idea,” jude said, his voice full of affection. “i’d rather have you focused on me.”

as they finished their meal, jude wrapped an arm around y/n’s shoulders, pulling her close. they sat together, enjoying the warmth of each other’s presence and the vibrant energy of the city. jude’s fingers gently played with y/n’s hair as they watched the world go by, their hearts full of contentment and love.

the taxi ride back to the hotel was bathed in a soft, golden hue from the streetlights outside, the cityscape slipping past as jude and y/n shared an intimate moment. they were still wrapped in the magic of their music video shoot, the camera capturing every tender glance and playful touch.

as they settled into the back seat, jude pulled y/n close, their bodies pressed together in the confined space. her head rested on his shoulder, his hand gently caressing her cheek. the rhythm of their breaths mingled with the hum of the taxi, creating a cocoon of warmth and affection.

y/n leaned in, her lips brushing against his ear as she began to lip-sync the lyrics of her song, her voice a soft murmur against his skin. “breathe me, baby,” she sang for the camera, and the leaned in so her lips grazing his earlobe. “can you feel how much I need you?”

jude's breath hitched at the intimate touch, his eyes locked on hers as he cupped her face in his hands. “every word you sing,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion, “makes me fall for you even more.”

y/n’s eyes sparkled with mischief and love as she pressed a gentle kiss to his lips. “i’m so glad you said yes to being in this video,” she murmured, her fingers trailing down his chest. “it’s been perfect.”

jude’s smile widened, his lips finding hers again in a slow, passionate kiss. “anything for you, baby,” he said against her lips, his hands sliding to her waist. “you make everything perfect.”

the taxi swayed gently as jude’s hands roamed her back, pulling her further into his lap. y/n’s fingers threaded through his hair, their kisses growing deeper and more urgent with every passing second. the city lights flickered outside, casting a soft glow on their entwined figures.

“for the rest of my life, allow me to show you just how much I love you,” jude whispered, his lips trailing down to her neck, his breath warm against her skin. “you’re mine, and I’m never letting you go.”

y/n shivered at the heat of his words, her fingers gripping his shirt as she tilted her head back, offering him more access. “i’m yours,” she whispered breathlessly. “always.”

the taxi ride became a passionate, private moment where the world outside ceased to exist. their connection was palpable, their love evident in every touch, kiss, and whispered promise. as they finally arrived at the hotel, their hearts raced with anticipation, knowing they had shared a moment that was as intimate as it was unforgettable.

the night was drawing to a close as jude and y/n returned to their hotel, the city lights of osaka twinkling in the distance. the atmosphere in the hotel lobby was serene, a stark contrast to the bustling streets they had explored earlier. the final scenes of the music video were set to be filmed in the quiet, intimate setting of the hotel.

as they entered the elevator, jude and y/n positioned themselves in the corner, the camera crew ready to capture the last moments of their shoot. jude’s arm was wrapped around y/n’s shoulders, pulling her close as they began to sing the final lines of y/n’s song, “breathe me.” their voices harmonized perfectly, the lyrics echoing softly in the confined space.

y/n leaned into jude, her head resting against his chest as she sang the poignant lyrics. jude’s gaze was soft and adoring as he looked down at her, his fingers gently brushing her cheek. their intimate performance was filled with passion, their connection evident in every touch and glance.

“you don’t need no air” jude murmured, his lips brushing against her temple as he sang. “you can just breathe me, breathe me.”

y/n smiled up at him, her eyes shimmering with affection. “you make it so easy to sing this song.”

jude’s playful side emerged as he gazed at y/n with a mischievous grin. without warning, he scooped her up into his arms, lifting her effortlessly. her laughter rang out, a bright, melodious sound that filled the elevator.

“jude, what are you doing?” y/n giggled, wrapping her arms around his neck as he carried her.

“just making sure you’re comfortable,” jude teased, his voice warm and filled with adoration. “and maybe getting one last chance to show off my strong arms.”

“oh, really?” y/n playfully challenged, her eyes twinkling. “i didn’t realize you were so confident.”

“i’m always confident when it comes to you, baby,” jude said, his voice dripping with affection.

as they continued their playful banter, jude’s kisses grew more lingering. he pressed his lips to y/n’s neck, his breath warm against her skin. her eyes fluttered shut, a shiver of pleasure running through her.

the elevator doors opened, and jude carried y/n down the hallway, their laughter and teasing filling the space. the camera followed their every move, capturing their loving interaction.

as they reached their hotel room, jude kicked the door open with a gentle slam, his arms still wrapped around y/n. the room was bathed in soft, warm light, creating a cozy and inviting atmosphere.

“careful, baby,” jude murmured as he lowered y/n to the floor, his hands lingering on her waist. “i don’t want to drop you.”

“don’t worry, i trust you,” y/n said, her voice filled with affection. she leaned in, her lips brushing against his in a tender kiss. jude’s hands roamed her back, pulling her closer as their kiss deepened.

“this has been amazing,” y/n whispered against his lips, her eyes full of love. “thank you for making it so special.”

“anything for you, baby,” jude replied, his voice thick with emotion. “you’re my everything, you know that.”

with a final, lingering kiss, jude broke away just enough to look into y/n’s eyes. “now that the cameras are off and i i’ve got to show how much i love my beautiful, talented girlfriend. i think this next part should be for my eye’s only.”

y/n’s smile was a mixture of excitement and anticipation. “oh? and what do you have in mind?”

jude’s eyes sparkled with mischief and love. “you’ll see,” he said, his voice dropping to a sultry whisper. “but for now, let’s just say that the night is ours.”

as the door to the hotel room locked with a soft click, the final scene of their music video came to a close. jude and y/n remained in their embrace, their hearts full of the love and passion they had shared throughout the day.

with a final, affectionate kiss, jude guided y/n towards the plush bed, their laughter mingling with the gentle hum of the city outside. the world outside faded away, leaving them wrapped in their own little bubble of happiness, ready to enjoy the rest of their night in each other’s arms.

© PDRIESTA 2024

taglist — @sinners-98-world @stephiii29 @kcharlyy @landosgirlxoxo @judesthighveins @ilovelifes-world @cinderellawithashoe @imnyt @miniemonie2001 @lunamelona @bbgkoo @ts1mp0ne @angryflowerwitch @niahxo @httpstoyosi @deonn-jaelle @4ngrysgf @adarkskinarchives @thelightknight21 @fandomwarrior98 @tobesolonely123 @tmthethwa471

[kaerinio]

what's your underlying motif?

THE HOME

whether it’s your warm embrace, your unwavering reliability, your smile that says “welcome back”, your motif is the home. you're the equivalent to coming out of the rain to the fire on and your slippers waiting by the door. your uncanny way of making people feel alright, you’re treasured in these trying times. i respectfully request you take care of yourself, the world will never been as kind to you as you are to it. anne lammott said “lighthouses don't go running all over an island looking for boats to save; they just stand there shining” and though unconventional, lighthouses are inhabited and your cup runs over with generosity. because you probably don’t hear it enough, thank you.

tagged by: my precious, my beloved @nightstriumph (also oh my god THE MAAAATCH) tagging: @draconikia ; @messianique ; @homebehind ; @ircnwrought ; you!

[leclercmode]

big win ☁️ charles leclerc

summary: charles is the first home winner of the monaco grand prix and you couldn’t be prouder.

couple: married! charles x you

Y/N in the Ferrari’s Paddock

NOW: “A Moment I Will Never Forget” | Emotional Charles Leclerc On His Home Win | 2024 Monaco Grand Prix

comments ⬇️

user1 i love the way charles talks about y/n, i want a relationship like theirs 🥹😢💔‼️✨

user2 the respect they have for each other 😭😭😭

user3 while charles was there, shining with his love for y/n through the interview, all i could think of was "imagine being their future children and seeing such powerful and unbending love between your parents" 🥺

user4 @user3 u’re absolutely right omg 😭🥹🥺😢

user5 when a husband speaks about his wife with so much love - all women thank you!!!!!!!!!!!! because like… this is so SPECIAL to us.

user6 @user5 frrr!! like ??? i’m not even married, but i’m feeling so happy abt them!!!!

user7 ok but can we appreciate how he still has her present even in his work life? unlike other famous people that wants to keep their loved ones on much secrecy as possible. he’s so real and genuine for doing that!!!!

user8 wow imagine having a partner who loves you like he loves her.

ynusername has added to their story

charles_leclerc

Liked by ynleclerc, lewishamilton, and 3.139.681 others

charles_leclerc BEST DAY EVER ❤️❤️❤️

thank you for everything, i love you all ❤️🤍❤️🤍❤️

View all 29.390 comments

user9 congratulations, char 🤍

scuderiaferrari bravo charles!!! so proud ❤️

user10 best weekend everrrrr

user11 you’re the best, we’re so proud of youuu!!

user12 amazing race, charles!! i’m so happy for you and to ferrari.

ynleclerc YAAAAAY!! you did it, good job 😘‼️✨

charles_leclerc @ynleclerc you’re the main reason for every good thing that happens in my life 🤍

user13 @ynleclerc YOURE THE BEST YN

user14 @ynleclerc @charles_leclerc I LOVE YOU BOTH SM

user15 che giornata, charles!! sei nella storia di monaco!! 🇲🇨🇲🇨 (what a day, charles!! you are in monaco history)

charles_leclerc

Liked by ynleclerc, lewishamilton, and 2.349.928 others

charles_leclerc now a big THANK YOU for wifey, i don't know what i’d be without your immeasurable love and support. you're everything i’ve ever dreamed of and everything i could ever dream of having. you're the woman of my life, i love you.

View all 18.982 comments

arthur_leclerc i just love you guys so much

user16 i’m in love with her fr

user17 was here from 2017 and the GROWTH ✨ im just so happy for them

lewishamilton ❤️❤️

user18 charles is deeply in love with yn and she is deeply in love with him

user19 @user18 frrrr!! it’s wonderful to heart them gushing about each other

user20 @user18 and im deeply in love with them

user21 this kind of love makes the world go round

user22 i like that he adores her openly, so egoless. aaaaaa yn, keep him!!!!!!!!!

user23 3 years dating and 5 years married ✨ this is true love.

[hyunsvngs]

𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐚𝐫𝐲 - fem!chanlix x fem!reader

wc: 2.9k

cw: established poly relationship, porn with some plot, please note chanlix are gender swapped here!! 18+ SMUT MDNI.

a/n: and if you thought i’d see pride month without a juno wlw fic you’d be WRONG!!!! i hope you enjoy fem chanlix here because they are so sweetieful to me <3 as usual smut warnings under the cut!!

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

sw: oral, scissoring, lots of dirty talk, daddy kink, spit, kind of d/s dynamics (all are kinda switchy), squirting, some voyeur/exhibitionist undertones

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

sunlight through the curtains is the first thing you see when you wake up. with your head turned to the side, the first thing you notice is how warm it is - the toned, muscled body of one of your girlfriends sidled up to you doesn’t help, and when you finally turn to face in front of you, your other girlfriend is perched on your lap.

you can still remember your dream. it was a memory, almost, if not for the way your girlfriends looked like they do now. it was a sweet retelling of how they asked you to be theirs, officially - a year ago today - chan’s beanie pulled low on long, dark curls, her mouth twisted in a shy smile. “so, uh- haha, you’re welcome to say no! but, we would like it if you’d say yeah…” she chuckled, wiping her hands on her joggers. lix had only kissed your cheek sheepishly and held your hand over the table the entire time, honey-toned legs crossed in her pretty little sundress.

it was a sweet memory. funny, almost, to remember how they’d been so incredibly oblivious that it’s always been them for you.

however, you’re horny, embarrassingly so considering you’ve just woken up. you’re convinced lix’s little frame on top of you is enough to get anyone going, though. it has to be a fact.

“happy anniversary, bubby,” lix’s voice is quiet, but you still hear the way she’s tried to put that weird voice she does on to make you giggle. it works, and you snicker, hands moving to her waist. she’s always tiny on top of you, your little doll, eyes anything but innocent in her white dainty nightgown. her little hands move to your shoulders and begin kneading, as she always does, and she lets out a loud, ostentatious “mwah” when she pecks at your nose. your kitty loves to love, but you know better. she has ulterior motives. “ah, actually, we gotta be quiet. channie’s asleep.”

“no ‘m not,” a familiar voice responds, groggy with sleep, and you turn to look at the other love of your life. her long, curly hair drapes over her face, but you can see an eye open and staring at you, sparkling with glee. one palm, calloused from lifting weights, moves to brush over lix’s waist, and you feel her wiggle on top of you, satisfied. chan shifts, pressing a kiss into your cheek, and the feeling of her lips has you humming. “happy anniversary, beautiful girls.”

“wow, channie,” you giggle, voice still hoarse. it’s the first time you’ve spoken, and felix grins, her mouth widening from ear to ear. “so smooth.”

chan blushes, as she always does. “haha, baby, don’t make fun of me. it’s our anniversary.”

lix wiggles on your lap, and then she’s lying directly on top of you, her chest pressing into yours. “it is our anniversary,” she confirms, wet tongue poking out to lick at the skin of your neck. it makes you gasp and jolt, and chan only smiles fondly, pressing another kiss into your hairline. lix tries to catch her mouth with hers when she pulls away, but chan’s too quick. she huffs and turns to you instead. “let me eat your pussy. for our anniversary.”

“lix!” chan shrieks. “it’s 8 in the morning.”

“eat it,” you respond, pushing at lix’s head. she’s all too happy to be maneouvered, and chan tries to at least pretend she’s shocked when lix is on her way to make a home between your legs. you know she’ll be involved as soon as the moment comes. “i’m horny, lixie. will you eat it?”

“mm, i’ll eat it,” she nods dutifully. her little button nose is pressing at your sleep shorts now, earnestly nudging the fabric to the side to uncover your folds underneath. you’re already wet, you know you are - the sight of your love on top of you like an eager cat was a little too much to wake up to, and she eventually gets impatient and yanks your shorts to the side instead. she grins again. “woah, nice ‘n wet down here. from me?”

“from you,” you confirm, breathlessly, and felix sucks the pudge of your clit into her mouth as your reward. she never wastes time, batting the button over and over with the tip of her tongue, and you writhe with a gasp at the stimulation. you assume chan’s content to watch for now, her body warm against you, but she gets even closer and slides one of those firm hands up your shirt. felix looks up at you both from between your legs with wide eyes, hands moving to pull your thighs apart further for her. “oh, c-channie. channie, channie, look at her.”

“yeah, i know, baby,” chan responds, voice as strained as if she’s the one getting her cunt ate. you don’t doubt she will be after. chan’s fingers move to one of your nipples and tug hard just as felix’s tongue breaches your hole, filthy and insistent, and you reach down to grab at lix’s hair. the short, blonde mullet is soft between your fingers, and you can’t help pulling at it to hear her whimper into your folds.

chan leans over you. her hair covers both of you like a curtain, thick and curly, and you grasp her cheek with your spare hand to focus on her. you’re a little hazy from lix’s onslaught of pleasure, her tongue determined and fingers just as bad when they move up to your hole, but you try to focus on your eldest.

“ah, fuck, look at you,” chan murmurs, hand moving up. her thumb brushes over your bottom lip, and you suck it into your mouth. she groans. “oh, baby. c’mere. give daddy a kiss, won’t you?”

if it had been months ago, chan would be embarrassed, blushing over the way you and her girlfriend cry out the familiar nickname. instead, her eyes are half lidded as she descends upon you, looking every bit like your wet dream, tits heaving in her sports bra. chan barely sleeps in anything, and you want to just watch her - you know her thighs look delicious the way they’re exposed in her briefs, but her fat lips mouth at yours and you open your mouth obediently.

you’re free to moan into chan’s mouth. you do so, unabashed when felix’s tongue moves upwards to flick at your clit and two of her fingers finally, finally slide in. they’re only small but she curls them dutifully anyway, pushing in and in until she’s brushing over that spongey spot that makes your tongue curl. you pull away from chan with a wet noise to cry out, both of your hands moving to lix’s hair to keep her where you need her.

“grind on her fucking face,” chan says, firm. you have to listen. now that she’s more awake, you’re not surprised that she’s taking control of the situation, and you grip felix’s head in place with a sharp moan from her. it doesn’t take long for you to listen, ever the diligent girl for your daddy, and your hips start to grind against felix’s tongue and fingers. “how’s it feel, baby? is she eating it good?”

“s-so good,” you keen, and felix moans into your folds. her fingers start to fuck into you faster, bouncing against your g-spot, and your stomach starts to burn with your impending orgasm. “she’s gonna make me cum. daddy- daddy, channie, she’s gonna make me cum.”

“yeah? good girl, lixie,” chan coos, fingers brushing through your hair. the comforting motion makes you hum, and when felix slides a third finger in, the stretch has you squirming. chan’s eyes are fixated on where her girlfriend’s mouth meets your core, and she moans at the sight. “that’s it. stretch that pussy out, there’s a good girl.”

“fuck, i-it’s so much, it’s so much,” you babble, hips still working up a frenzy, and chan wraps your hair around her fist and pulls. combined with the feeling of felix sucking your clit into her mouth again, and her fingers hitting you just right, your pussy clenches up and gushes down to your girlfriend’s knuckles. “i’m c-cumming, i’m- i’m cumming, cumming, baby, kitty cat, g-good girl, fuck- fuck, my pussy feels so good, channie-”

chan slides two fingers between your lips to shut you up. it’s for the best, you assume, with the rest of the 3racha dorm still present in different rooms, and you suck obediently while you shake through your orgasm. it’s powerful, your thighs clenching with it, and felix waits until your shaking has subsided to slide her little fingers out.

“daddy, y’wanna taste?” she says, voice deep, and chan nods, lips parting. felix’s digits slide between chan’s lips and down, down, down, pressing on her tongue to the point she’s almost gagging. felix likes to pretend she has power like this, and you lay there breathlessly while your daddy sucks at your baby’s fingers. felix just smiles. “i’m so fucking horny.”

“mm,” chan smacks her lips against felix’s fingertips, nibbling on them playfully. you and felix both giggle. “delicious pussy. why don’t you rub yours against our baby’s tasty cunt, kitty?”

felix blanches. her fingers are still wet and her eyes widen as if it’s the best idea she’s ever heard. it probably is, and she nods eagerly as if the cogs in her head have finally started working.

“yeah. yeah. wanna- wanna rub my pussy against you, let me, let me,” felix rushes, yanking her nightgown over her head. she’s not wearing anything underneath, and the sparse freckles over her tummy have you fixated, little chest bouncing as she moves towards you. her cunt is soaked too, waxed clean and pretty pretty pretty, brown folds parting and sticking together with her wetness. she slings one lithe thigh over yours, and when she moves forward the initial touch of her clit against yours makes you whine. you’re still sensitive, wet with your cum, but you spread your thighs for her anyway. “‘s good, yeah? f-fuck, you’re so wet. cunt’s so fucking wet.”

“lix, you’re fucking filthy,” chan remarks, always affronted by how dirty her mouth gets. felix doesn’t care, grinning wildly as she grinds her pussy against yours, and the wet clacking noises make you blush. it’s messy, folds sliding together with every grind of yours, but you’re happy to just lay there and let her take, take, take.

chan finally pulls your shirt off too, impatient, and the jiggling of your tits as you get fucked against makes her groan. when she sits up to lean over where the two of you meet, you’re not expecting her to spit down against your already soaked cores, and you wail at the feeling of everything getting wetter. it’s so messy down there, and felix’s clit glides against yours with it.

lix starts babbling. she always does. “f-fuck, no, fuck, i’m so- i’m gonna cum, oh my god, bubs,” she’s wailing, tits bouncing as she starts to thrust harder, hips gyrating against you. you swear you can see the bite of tears in her eyes, but yours are half lidded too - you’re whimpering with every messy gyrate, trying to buck your hips up to get more of the sensation. “channie, kiss. kiss, kiss me, please, daddy, please, i’m gonna cum.”

chan grabs felix’s hair, yanking her hair back, and spits into her mouth. felix gasps, surging forward to kiss chan harder, messier, tongues darting against eachother. she’s getting closer and closer, legs starting to tremble against yours, and it only takes a nip of her teeth to lix’s bottom lip to have her falling over the edge. she grips at chan’s toned biceps, moaning freely into her mouth, pussy gushing over yours.

you can’t be disappointed that you didn’t cum again because when lix pulls away, there’s a cute faint blush underneath her freckles, fading down to her chest. she’s out of breath, nipples pebbled from her arousal, and it only takes a look between you both for chan to be pinned to the bed. she lays there, arms akimbo in shock, and you and felix slide in either side of her.

“oh, are you two done playing now?” chan grins. she’s being playful and you can’t have that. your hands move to grip at her sports bra, wrenching the front down, and her tits bounce freely. chan’s got big tits, round and full, and her nipples are dark and need to be in your mouth now, so you lean down to suck one into your mouth. “o-oh. oh, yeah, that’s it.”

you’re not shocked to see felix has attached herself to chan’s other nipple. you both lay either side of her, sucking and nibbling at her tits while you squirm and writhe for more, more, more, and you know chan will give you what you need. a quick slide of your hand beneath her briefs only confirms what you were suspecting - she’s drenched, folds slick with her wetness, and her clit peeks out with arousal.

“poor daddy,” you croon, finger sliding up to circle her clit, slick from her hole. she lets out a stuttery breath, and you can only look up at her from your position on her chest. chan looks so beautiful like this. her nose juts out sharply, lips pouty and kiss bitten, and her lashes are long where they rest against her cheekbones, eyes shut. “did we make you wait long?”

“ah- baby, you know i like watchin’ you both,” chan responds, voice shaky. felix only suckles on her nipple happily, sated to just wait to touch for now. you manage to wrangle chan’s underwear from her legs in the position you’re in, and one look at the trimmed patch of hair on her mound has you wiggling your way down, sharpish. chan leans up on her forearms to look at you, the prettiest, fondest smile taking over her features. “oh. oh, you’re daddy’s good girl, aren’t you?”

“always,” you respond, quick as a bat, because you genuinely are - most of the time. lix is the brattier one of you two, always biting and grabbing and being generally impatient, but even she seems to be on her best behaviour this morning, coming to join you between chan’s legs. chan lets her toned thighs fall apart, unashamed for you both despite the shame she definitely feels inside, and her folds part wetly.

you can’t help yourself. you’re sliding one digit into her hole almost instantly, and she seizes, head rolling back onto the pillow. she’s wet, extremely so, and her arousal slides messily down to your knuckle.

“i want in,” felix says, breathless. “you’re so messy here, daddy. mm, lemme-“

she dives in. she’s relentless with it like she was with you, tongue batting over chan’s clit while you fuck her with one finger. chan gasps, her pussy gushing, and grips the back of felix’s head in approval.

“ah. yeah, there we go, fuckin’- eat daddy’s pussy. y-you too, c’mon,” she grunts, yanking at your hair where your head rests on her thigh. when your tongue joins lix’s it’s even messier, both of your lips smacking against eachothers and the little button you’re working on. it makes chan whine this broken, strangled noise that has you sliding another finger inside of her.

chan reaches down, pulling her mound back, and the exposure of her clit fully to your mouths makes you and felix both moan. you know it’s more sensitive like this, and you switch to directly laving your tongue over the bud. your fingers crook inside of her, and you feel a shorter, smaller finger slide in next to you. felix’s tongue licks over your lips affectionately, swirling around the other side of chan’s clit that she can get to, and chan moans so loud you think the walls shake.

“i’m gonna cum, keep going, keep going,” chan mumbles, and when you look up at her her eyes are half lidded, rolling back into her head. she's leaning up on her forearms again, attempting to watch you, and you curl your fingers again to watch her gasp. her pussy is wet, and felix noses at your cheek until you turn to her. “fuck, kiss for me. kiss for me, babies, please.”

her own fingers come down to her clit and rub in fast little circles, and felix pushes her tongue into your mouth while you both finger fuck the eldest member of your lovely trio. it seems to be enough for chan. when you and felix switch to sloppy, open mouth kisses, the combination of her own fingers on her clit and yours and felix’s inside of her has her spraying her release down your forearms, messy and sloppy on your skin.

the feeling shocks you, and you pull back from them both, blinking rapidly at yours and her skin. it’s soaked, and lix only giggles, leaning down to lick up your forearm.

“ah, that’s- seriously, lix?” chan swats at her playfully, still out of breath. “you’re dirty. both of you. you’re menaces. minxes.”

“is that the plural of minx?” you mumble, gripping felix’s arm to lick her clean, too. chan only sighs, trying to chastise you both despite her sports bra still pulled under her tits. the sight makes you want round two. “mm, tasty. happy anniversary, who’s getting head next?”

chan sighs again. felix shrieks, but points at herself.

[greg-montgomery]

Friends to lovers with hotch. Bau!Reader has been pining forever but is deciding to move in after seeing Aaron and Beth be with each other. New guy also happens to be a single dad with a boy in jacks grade. Jack is not happy about another boy stealing his mom figure yk? Father son duo working together to get the girl.

Tbh idc what you write coz its always good. And im a sucker for jealous hotch ALWAYS

okay can i just say that when i saw this ask i got obsessed with the concept immediately!!! like that’s so cute???? also while writing this i was thinking “jack is such a little sweetie he wouldn’t have an attitude” but then i thought of this tiktok and remembered he can actually be salty af <33 LMFAOO

♡ ♡ ♡ ♡

“Buddy, what’s wrong?”

Jack hadn’t spoken a word the entire ride from school. Aaron was used to his bubbly sweet voice filling the car, telling him all about his day; so the silence was deafening.

“Nothing,” he replied, dropping his small bag on the floor and running to his room.

The truth was, Jack had been pretty moody lately and it was all because of you. Well, it wasn’t your fault of course, but it was your absence that had Jack throwing tantrums in a way he never used to before.

As Aaron’s best friend, your presence in his house, in his home, was a constant. Movies, dinners, board game nights…Jack had grown used to you. And he absolutely adored you.

When Beth came into Aaron’s life, though, things started to change. You were pulling away from him, from them. At first, Aaron thought that maybe you were jealous; and if that was true, he would drop Beth in a heartbeat and run into your arms. After all, she was only a distraction to him in order to get over you.

All those dreams of him were shuttered one day, when he had called to ask you if you’d join him and Jack for a movie night, only to be told you had a date: a date with the dad of one of Jack’s classmates. You told him the two of you met when you went to pick up Jack from school one day, and Aaron cursed the moment he had asked for your help. If he knew the dads there would be all over you, he wouldn’t have let you set foot into that damned school in the first place.

“Jack?” Aaron said, knocking on his door.

“Go away!”

“Jack, please talk to me. I want to help.”

There was a long pause before Jack finally opened the door and let his dad in.

“What did you do to her?” he asked with tears in his eyes.

“Buddy, what are you talking about?”

“Y/N. Why isn’t she your friend anymore?” Jack looked incredibly sad and it broke Aaron’s heart.

“We’re still friends,” he answered, softly. “What makes you think we’re not?”

“She’s never here anymore.”

“I know,” Aaron said. “But that doesn’t mean she’s not our friend anymore. We’ve just both been busier than usual.” He wasn’t technically lying, but he still felt bad.

“Why couldn’t you get together like they do in the movies?” Jack raised his voice. “Now she’s with Charlie’s dad. And she packs Charlie lunch and makes him sandwiches that look like dinosaurs like she used to do with me! It’s not fair, she was ours first!”

Well, that explained why he was so mad after school today.

Aaron couldn’t find any words to say, and how could he when he was just as jealous as his son? Jack was right; you were theirs first. And they’d win you back.

--

“And dad told me we’ll go get ice cream later with Y/N!” Charlie exclaimed, but Jack did not share his enthusiasm.

“Okay,” Jack answered, rolling his eyes.

“And maybe we’ll go to the movies after. She said she loves watching cartoons! She doesn’t think they’re boring like all grown ups,” the kid continued, not realizing he was making Jack upset.

“I know, we watch cartoons all the time together,” he replied.

Right next to them, their fathers had a separate conversation, but very much similar to theirs.

“The kid loves her already,” Charlie’s dad, Nick, said, watching you from afar. They were all waiting for you to finish your little chat with that teacher friend of yours, so they’d finally leave the school building.

“And how can he not, I mean she’s so great,” he added.

“She is,” Aaron agreed, though gritted teeth.

“I’ll take them for ice cream now so they can bond a little more. This girl loves ice cream.”

“Yeah, I know.” Who did that guy think he was? Thinking that any detail about you would be news to Aaron. Of course he knew you loved ice cream. He knew you better than anyone. Anyone.

“Sorry!” you said, walking fast towards their little group. “I hadn’t seen my friend in a while.”

“That’s alright.”

“It’s okay.”

Aaron and Nick talked at the same time, which ended in them sending annoyed glances to each other.

“Well, we better get going then,” you said with a smile.

As all of you walked out of the building, Aaron heard you telling something to Nick and Charlie. “Can you wait for me in the car? I’ll be back in a minute!”

To Aaron’s surprise you approached his car with one eyebrow raised. Oh no, you were mad.

“Y/N,” he said, but you cut him off.

“Why are the two of you being mean to Nick and his son?”

“We’re not mean to them,” Aaron said, but Jack’s voice was louder. “Because we hate them!” he said.

“Jack.”

“What? It’s true. You said that Mr. Nick is ugly and a jerk!”

“Jack, language!” his dad scolded him.

You turned your gaze to Aaron. “Is this true?”

He sighed, in defeat. “Jack, can you please get in the car? I want to speak with Y/N.”

“Fine,” he said, and followed his dad’s request.

“So?” you said when you were finally alone.

“So…I may have said some things about Nick.”

“Why?” your soft voice asked.

“Because, I can’t stand the thought of him with you. God, Y/N, I can’t do this anymore. I want you. I want you to be mine. I wanna be the one who takes you for ice cream and the one who brags about you to the other dads.”

“Aaron…”

“I understand if you don’t feel the same way-”

“Of course, I feel the same way, you idiot,” you said. “But then Beth showed up and I thought it was one sided!”

“Beth’s in the past.”

“She is?”

“Yes. She didn’t mean anything to me. It’s always been you,” Aaron admitted.

“Wow…” you said, placing your palm on your forehead.

“Yeah…”

“Well, I have two people waiting for me in the car right now. And I don’t want to just  blow them off.”

“I understand.”

“I’ll talk to Nick tonight. I promise,” you said, touching his hand. “Okay?”

“Okay.” Aaron smiled.

“She touched your hand,” Jack said with a smirk when his dad got back in the car.

Aaron stared at him through the rearview mirror with furrowed eyebrows, but Jack could read him very easily. So he just giggled.

--

“Ew!” Jack yelled, his face forming a disgusted expression at the sight of you and Aaron kissing.

“Hey, you got your wish!” Aaron told him. “You should be grateful.”

“You know what I think?” you asked.

“Hm?”

“That our little Jack is jealous because he’s not getting any kisses.”

“No!” he giggled, as you and Aaron chased him, ready to cover his chubby cheeks with sweet kisses.

[targaryenluvs]

Idk if you are taking requests currently, but if you are…

Could you write a similar fic to our little dove, where Coriolanus doesn’t kill Lucy. I would’ve loved to see more of them arguing over who gets to spend time with the reader, and all three of them spending time together.

Or maybe a different ending where Lucy takes reader to pick up katniss with her. And whilst Coriolanus is in the cabin lucy convinces reader to run away with her… but Coriolanus finds both of them and takes them to the Capitol with him.

OUR LITTLE DOVE,, ALT ENDING

pairings: dark!lucy gray x fem!reader, dark!coriolanus snow x fem!reader, coriolanus snow x lucy gray

summary: you reunite with your dear songbird after the games, but it seems the capitol has followed her home, and taken an interest in the two of you. but it seems lucy gray is willing to share you with a certain peacekeeper, even if you aren’t.

a/n: here’s for all who wanted a different ending! the full fic is here ( our little dove )this is just a detour for everyone who wasn’t happy with the ending! DONT READ IF YOU HAVENT READ THE FULL FIC!!!

the trek back to town had you dying. it usually didn’t take so long but with coriolanus’s arm practically glued to you, the sun beating down on your trio and your dress sticking to you? fainting seemed very fun right now.

the entire routine was rushed, food stashed, no goodbyes to your family nor friends, just lucy and coriolanus wanting you on the train asap. they’d sprung their plan of going back to the captiol on you quite abruptly once you reached town but at this point you had no hope in your body of escaping them. so you obliged and followed like a lost puppy.

being in the capitol was worse.

you were completely and utterly alone. coriolanus was busy running the country, lucy was always working and you always seemed to be stuck on your windowsill. staring out onto the streets as the world passed you by. stuck in a prison of marble and luxury.

at first you had to endure lucy and coriolanus’s never ending arguing, always over you. when you still had an inkling of freedom. “are you kidding me? you chose what she wore yesterday lucy. will you just back the fuck off?” lucy’s jaw was dropped open, “excuse me? she was my-” coriolanus’s head tilted back as he dragged his hands over his face, “oh my god how many times are you going to use that? who the hell got her here huh? who provides for all of us? sure as hell not you. now don’t make this any harder. she’s wearing the red dress.” you sat there the whole time, just waiting for someone to notice you.

it always led back to you. but apparently kidnapping you and uprooting your life wasn’t enough since after time the duo fed off of eachother, delusions enlarging. seemingly everyone was out to get you, be with you, but you were theirs. coriolanus wasn’t president long enough yet to go around killing people without raising suspicion and alert towards him and as much as people did respect him, he couldn’t exactly go around killing everyone who looked at you and lucy even if he wished to. so he settled for the next best thing. keeping you away from them, out of reach.

and here you ended up, alone.

you had everything you’d ever dreamed of yet it all meant nothing. you were a shell of your old self and the two of them knew it. but all they cared was that you were with them. whisperings of the president having two lovers were imminent, lucy gray the victor, and the other. the unknown. and you weren’t sure if they’d ever know you. if anyone knew who you were, what you looked like let alone your name. even the staff of your prison did what was necessary, nothing more nor less. food, water, changed bedsheets and drawn baths was all the interaction you had with people that weren’t corio nor lucy.

you wanted to die, anything was better than living the same day over and over. the little flickers of hope came in the form of broken promises whispered during the dark nights, barely heard over the heaving breaths originating from yourself and the other two. promises of people, of the sun and temporary escape from here. but you’d learnt not to believe them.

“sweetheart, it’s not good for you to sit there all day. come, eat.” coriolanus asked demanded from the doorway of your library. the book at your feet long forgotten. coriolanus led you to the dining room where lucy was already eating. “there you are baby. somethin’ wrong?” lucy’s eyebrows were creasing as she took you in, empty eyes, emotionless face, slumped shoulders. you were nothing like the girl from twelve.

y/n l/n. sweetheart to almost everyone. a smile on her face as she went about her day. opening up to people and allowing others to lean on her. making sure her friends were okay when she noticed the slightest shift in feelings. always the lover. the carer.

but the girl who stood in front of her was so different and it broke her heart.

but she knew if she wanted to repair you she’d have to let you go. and as the three of you cuddled together in bed, your soft breaths lulling coriolanus and herself to sleep, she knew it was worth it, as long as you were here.

how selfish! she thought, but at the end of the day.

you’re our little dove.

[shoot-the-oneshot]

SOULMATE

Lando Norris x Reader F1 as romance tropes Masterlist

If anyone asked Lando always knew he was going to be an F1 driver. It was his dream, his destiny. Not the words imprinted on his arm.

“At least he’s an F1 driver” were the words that appeared on his 16th birthday. At first, he was ecstatic it was proof not only he had a soulmate but he achieved his dreams. It wasn’t until he’d been at McLaren for a few years the words almost haunted him seeing the other drivers meet theirs and he was still walking down the paddock alone, well almost.

“At least you’ll know immediately when you meet her, mine says “hello” that could be anyone!” His best friend Max spoke seeing the dark look in Landos eyes watching Alex and Lily.

Lando scoffed shaking it off “And she'll only care that I’m a driver not about me.” That was the problem the longer you took to meet the worse his thoughts got.

“You don’t know that, she might just think you’re stupid,” at his friends' words Lando turned to glare at him who held his hands in surrender, “You say stupid stuff sometimes”

“You’re not helping you know.” Anything else Lando wanted to say got cut off by a new visitor.

“How’s it going gents, wait Lando what’s with the murder face?” George spoke as he joined the two men, the black Mercedes race suit a stark contrast with the orange of Landos.

“Lando is pouting watching the happy couple over there.” Max's thumb jutting over his shoulder towards the Williams garage and the other British driver understood while Lando tried to look anywhere but the the man now looking at him with pity

George knew how he felt, he felt like half of himself before he met Carmen. “Carmen has a friend in town for the race Lewis and I were going to all go to dinner why don't you come along and get out of your head for a while”

“Appreciate the offer mate but I don't think being a fifth wheel sounds that fun.”

“Lewis had a last-minute meeting he can’t make it now, you should come so Y/n isn’t lonely” lies George spoke before he thought, Carmen would kill him for this.

“He would love to text him the time and place! See you later George.”

Max shoved his friend who was silently thinking of an excuse so he could go home and drown himself in his sorrows so he was ready to go for the race.

“I'm not going,” Lando spoke as soon as they were alone and started walking again towards McLaren hospitality and into his drivers' room

“No, you’re not going home to sulk this dinner will be good for you, get out and socialize.”

“I don't need to socialize I’m fine where I am” the driver huffed stuffing his clothes into his bag ignoring the look his friend was giving.

“You like George and food this seems like a win-win to me!” Max spoke trying to convince him “And maybe the friend is hot plus you need to get out of this funk it’s depressing now go home and shave that god-awful goate and make yourself presentable”

Ignoring in insult Lando swung his bag over his shoulder and caved.

“Fine I’ll go but only to get as drunk as I can on George's tab” and maybe his friends were right and an easy night out would soothe the ache in his chest.

“I am so glad you’re finally here I’ve only been begging to get you at a race for years!” Carmen exclaimed from her spot on your bed while you picked through your suitcase for something the wear.

“Well this might be my last chance to meet Lewis so I figured I'd take it.” You joked, flashing the 44 hat you brought for the race waving it like a flag as she rolled her eyes at your behavior.

“Better not wear that to the garage George might feel offended.” Carmen sang a smile on her face showing she didn’t mean it

“Listen I love George but just like with Toto Lewis is first in my heart George second.” You laughed dodging the pillow she flung at you.

“Alright come on George will be here soon we can wait downstairs.” Grabbing her bag you followed behind her making small talk as you both waited for the Mercedes to pull up

You fake gagged as George immediately jumped you to open your friends' door with a kiss. “Y/n always a pleasure good to see you again.” He said giving her a quick hug while opening the back door for her to get in the car. Returning the sentiment

“I wonder if they have any shawarma at the restaurant” your friend spoke you could hear the smile in her voice as she teased you obviously payback for your comment earlier.

“Oh wow, that joke still hasn’t gotten old.” You deadpanned making George look at the both of you in confusion not getting the inside joke of your soulmate's words.

Choosing to change the subject you felt excitement filling you the closer to your destination you got

“George I cannot thank you enough for setting this up it’s a dream come true I’ve been watching Lewis race for years!” You smiled while Carmen laughed

“She’s been geeking out over meeting Lewis” she spoke as her boyfriend’s shoulders stiffened.

“Well about that….Lewis had a meeting but don’t worry I already took care of it everything is fine and I promise I’ll introduce you tomorrow.” He rushed out white knuckling the steering wheel as you deflated, you were disappointed but it wasn’t his fault.

“Who’d you invite?” You asked before he could answer he was already parked, he turned in his seat looking back at you.

“We’ve been friends forever… I’m sure it will be fine” You would’ve had more confidence if he didn't pause and have such a nervous smile on his face

Lando who was leaned against the building next to the entrance he’s pretty sure he’s accidentally scared off a few couples from entering with his brooding. He glances up hearing a car pull up his back suddenly straightened as if he was struck by lightning when the back car door opened.

His feet moved faster than his brain as he rushed to hold a hand out helping you out of the car.

A soft smile slid across his face uncharacteristically for his recent mood, but before he could dwell on it he locked eyes with you.

Shyly taking the offered hand you got out of the car slightly shocked by the turn of events not having expected George's friend to behave like that.

“Hi, I’m Y/N nice to meet you.” You spoke looking into a pair of awestruck brown eyes. “Umm hello?”

“Lando!” George shouted when you looked around the group when the other Brit failed to respond in choice of staring

“Lando yeah I’m Lando hi.” The man rushed out then mentally kicked himself when you nodded with a smile that made his mind go black again as you walked ahead with Carmen.

“Mate, what was that?” George spoke staring at the fellow driver whose face was covered with his hands “I don't know….” He groaned.

When they entered the restaurant you and Carmen were already seated Lando ungracefully jumped to the empty seat in front of you as if someone else would take it. Huffing out a smirk when you looked up at the sudden noise.

“Y/n this is Lando he drives for McLaren we grew up karting together along with Alex,” at the mention of Alex, Lando recalled the scene from that morning at deflated back into his seat.

“Nice to meet you I haven’t met to many of the grid yet so I’m glad to have started small.” You smiled across the table, still slightly in a mood he just politely nodded back

“You went golfing with Lily a few months ago didn't you?” George asked hoping to spark Landos' interest which worked flawlessly as the man perked back up.

“You like golf? I played in a tournament with the PGA guys for Netflix”

Out of all the things he had to brag about the Netflix cup is what he chose, god, Max was right he does say stupid stuff sometimes.

“You must be pretty good.” If Lando wasn’t proud of his previous answer his next one wasn’t any better. “Oh yeah, practically just hole-in-ones.” He smiled ignoring the look from the other driver, who tried to subtly yank on his sleeve to get his attention away from the two women who were giggling at his poor attempts at impressing you.

“Anyone who’s played golf with you knows that a lie pull yourself together” George spoke his tone hushed “I’m trying I don't know what’s wrong.”

The two men straightened up as if their little conversation never happened and looked over the menus. Lando who was reading over every sentence trying to collect himself.

“What in the world what is chicken shar-sharwarma chicken shar warma.” Lando stutters out thinking it was surely a typo.

George slammed his menu down on the table and looked over at Lando with the most disappointment he had ever seen on his face.

“What did I just say to you!”

“I’m sorry it’s confusing!”

“Chicken shawarma Lando it is not hard if you can’t say it don't order it!” George barked any rebuttal Lando had gets cut off by Carmens' loud gasp. Making both men turn.

“Oh my god!”

“I know he's a muppet” George who thought she was baffled by his friend just waved it off and went to change the subject before you spoke

“At least he's an F1 driver” Lando froze at your words swearing he felt a tingle on his arm where those very words sat. “Oh my god!” Carmen squealed in excitement at what she was witnessing.

“Plus he's pretty.” You lightly spoke still in shock at finding your soulmate who whined “See why wasn’t that part on there.” Lando threw his hands in the air wishing that’s what he stared at for years.

“Wait you think I’m pretty?” He smirked snapping back into the personality he was known for. His question made a flush appear on your cheeks and Lando is sure he just fell in love harder at the sight.

“Can someone tell me what’s happening?” George demanded seeing his girlfriend tear up and you and Lando doing whatever it was you two were doing.

Lando still on a high leaned his arm on the table rolling his white button-down sleeve to his elbow revealing the words you spoke, not taking his eyes off you the entire time.

“That George, was me meeting my girl.”

The rest of the dinner passed by in a whirlwind, all you could remember was the feeling of meeting your soulmate you never thought you’d say this but you’re glad Lewis had a work obligation or you wouldn’t be walking down the paddock hand and hand with Lando a brand new McLaren hat on your head.

“I’m still upset you threw my hat across the room.” Your words did little to dim the smile on his face, glancing at you from the corner of his eye.

“I’m sorry love, would a first-place trophy make it better?” He boasted feeling as if he was on top of the world with you by his side.

“Oh big ambitions today, huh, feeling good?”

“With you here, babe I'll be unstoppable, and once I win you have to throw out that dreadful hat I’m the only British driver allowed in your heart now.” He declared, his hand sliding down your arm to grab yours. Pulling you to a stop outside his garage.

“There’s the happy couple!” A new voice shouted from the sea of papaya. Max ran out, making Lando roll his eyes and you smile. You spent the last two days glued to each other so you knew all about his best friend.

“Finally so nice to meet you thank you for showing up and fixing this muppet!”

“I wasn’t a muppet, you muppet!”

“It’s very nice to meet you as well Max.” You interrupted the two before they could get started on the back and forth. Landos attention switching as you spoke threw his arm over your shoulder, a smug expression on his face getting to show you off.

“I know what lover boys words were but what was yours?” Max ashed almost bouncing on his feet in excitement. Lando groans immediately holding his head in your neck.

Rubbing your hand through his curls knowing this was going to be rough on him, you showed Max your other arm. “Mate you wonder why I said she probably thought you were stupid!”

Lando felt your head nodding in agreement making his shoot up to pout at you. “I’m sorry but come on it wasn’t your best moment neither was spilling wine all over the table.”

“He spilled wine! Come tell me everything.” Max gasped, pulling you away from Lando lacing your arm with his leading you down the paddock. Leaving the driver to trail behind the two.

A year later.

A hand came into your view as the car door swung open revealing your fiancé.

“For old times sake huh?” you teased refusing to the time he nearly tripped over himself to get to your door the night you met. Lando fondly rolled his eyes. “You act like I don't always get the door for you.” He bowed exaggeratedly pulling the large glass door open leading to the restaurant.

“Like how you acted like you were a golf expert?” Lando's jaw drooped in mock offense before collecting himself pulling you closer to whisper in your ear.

“Got a hole-in-one with you though didn't I?” You giggled hitting his chest as you reached the table. Lando left to greet George while you sat with Carmen and caught up.

Eventually, the men joined you both again, you only noticed when your chair was dragged to your right until you were pressed against Landos side, who held a menu for you to share. You smiled at his determination to keep you close.

Squeezing your arm which you now knew as his ‘watch this’ motion he winked.

“I think I’ll have the chicken shaworma chicken shar warma!”

“Mate not again!” George groaned while Lando laughed in mirth. Looking around the restaurant hasn’t changed a bit since the last time you were here and yet your entire life had, you now travel with your best friend around the world, and most importantly, found your soulmate

Hey guys we are back! After a very long break i got inspired to write again and while this one isn’t the best the other parts of this series are some of my favorites I’ve written so go check them out here but i do hope you all liked it

<< Charles Leclerc as brothers best friend

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[toji-sweetheart]

Do you think Toji and Shiu would be into somno? I feel like they really would be, especially if they've been away for so long on a job and had your consent.

As soon as they saw you laying in the sheets of their bed, they wouldn't be able to resist touching you. Missing you for so long, it would start simple. One leaving a kiss on your forehead and the other on your cheek. Fingers running down your arm and through your hair. Just enjoying being able to see and touch you again.

And then those fingers would slip under the shirt you're wearing (one of theirs of course) to start teasing you but they'd be stopped by you letting out a little moan in your sleep. Was that their names? Their pretty girl missing them so much, she's having naughty dreams about them? Best believe they're gonna start seeing how long they can get you riled up before you wake up. One at your breasts and the other eating you out. And then they're gonna make sure they act out whatever dream you were having, after they make sure you tell them what it is while they see how many times they can make you cum from their mouths alone.

18+ only content - mdni

the way I just sat and read this over and over again because wtf this is just so djkntrr I want to eat this ask lmaoooo I also ripped my fake nails off so I could type this faster

tags: fem reader + explicit smut + consensual somnophilia + some mxm action

Whenever Toji and Shiu both had to leave for a job your shared home felt hollow, and so did your chest. Coming home after work wasn't fun because they weren't there to greet you with hugs and kisses.

The only way you could see them was on FaceTime calls and that was rare so you opted to text both letting them know how much you missed their hugs and being snuggled between your hunky mans.

"Our pretty girl misses us." Shiu murmured lighting the end of his cigarette in the dark, the cherry end illuminating his face as he looked down at Toji's phone that was filled with your heart felt messages.

A particular passage caught both men's attention. "She gave us her permission to play with her if we get home and she's sleeping, not sure what we did to deserve her, but damn we're going to marry her."

Shiu couldn't agree more with Toji's statement.

You reread the message as you lay in bed wearing one of their shirts, you weren't sure whose it was nor did you care, it smelt like them both further hollowing out your chest as you wished they were home.

Lucky for you, your wish came true.

They both finished up earlier than expected and were able to head home, for sure breaking a few traffic laws to finally be where they wanted to be the most.

The house was silent as Toji unlocked the front door shutting it quietly as he and Shiu kicked their shoes off looking around for any sign of you and when they noticed that all the lights were off.

Making their way further into the house they stopped in the doorway of your shared bedroom to see you snuggled in the middle of the bed holding Shiu's pillow sleeping while tossing and turning.

Each move and twist hiked up the shirt you wore revealing more of your skin to them, something they missed touching and kissing.

Toji was the first one inside the bedroom perching as gently as he could on the edge of the bed to lean down and kiss your forehead as Shiu followed suit leaning down to peck your cheeks and jaw.

They watched you for a moment longer and began touching you, Toji trailed his fingers up and down your arm while Shiu moved to graze his palm up your thigh hearing you sigh softly and moan their names.

Shiu cocked his head with a smirk and looked at Toji.

He pushed the shirt up higher letting Toji finish bunching it up over your bare breasts to see your nipples harden from the cool air. Toji leaned down unable to help himself and drew the bud in his mouth.

Suckling softly while his fingers pinched and played with the others hearing you gasp as Shiu busied himself with kissing up your thighs until he reached your cunt where he placed a series of soft kisses all over before letting his tongue loll out and lick a wide stripe slowly.

Your eyes fluttered open the moment Shiu flicked your clit sending a shockwave of pleasure to shoot through you. "Toji...Shiu..." You groaned seeing them pleasuring you like it was their job.

Toji pulled away with a string of saliva to kiss his way up to your mouth as he slid his hand under your head. "Hi, princess. Miss us?"

There was no way you could answer when Shiu slid two thick fingers inside you with a wet squelch as he made out with your pussy making it a mess as you clung to Toji. "We missed you too, heard you moaning for us in your sleep, need us that bad? What were you dreaming about?" Toji asked with a slight chuckle.

Your face burned hot with bliss and at being caught having a wet dream about them. "Let her talk Shiu." He told his friend who didn't hear him, his hands were keeping your thighs apart as he devoured you like he hasn't had a good meal in years, he couldn't pull away.

He pulled back, his face slick with your arousal as you leaned up to kiss Toji and then Shiu tasting yourself. "Mhm, I dreamt that you two were eating me out at the same time." You confessed clinging to them both grateful to have your men home where they belonged.

Shiu ran his hand over your head pulling you closer as he kissed you deeply, pouring his emotions into the act making you lose your breath before he laid you back and spread your legs obscenely wide.

You watched with bleary eyes as he and Toji lay between your thighs kissing each one until Toji reached your pussy first tasting you with long licks that made your thighs quiver then you felt Shiu join in.

Their tongues glided against each other in a silent fight to make you cum as you humped their faces slowly while tugging on their hair. "So good please don't stop." You begged with a whine feeling pleasure build up intensely until your clit was throbbing and you were coming.

feedback such as comments and reblogs are highly appreciated, those kind words mean a lot and encourage me to do more writing ♡

[shesjustanothergeek]

The Gods We Can Touch Chapter Six: Salt and Blood

Masterlist of Series

Summary: The older twin of Prince Jacaerys Velaryon, you were a picture of the maiden, untouched and untainted by man's sins. At least, that was what Alicent Hightower believed when she held you in her arms moments after her old friend's labors. You were her shining light, her dream. Though you were never hers, she believed you were meant to be.

What will become of you as time passes and the Queen's shining light grows within the blackened darkness? Will her eldest son's morbid fascination with the light burn the realm? Or will her second son's obsession with the only daughter of Rhaenyra Targaryen change the course of the Seven Kingdoms as we know it?

Author's Note: Alright, everyone. This is the last time you'll see baby Aemond and the reader, so let's cherish it. In the next chapter, we will start where the show did with the characters aged up in Ep. 8. I'm very excited to write for adult MC. I'm not going to lie; I'm a bit worried about writing Aemond's inner dialogue, as I've never written for a male character who isn't obsessed with the reader, but I'm sure I'll do fine. I hope you enjoy this chapter!

Chapter Warnings: Alicent being delulu, parentified sibling trauma, and watch me make you feel even worse about Driftmark.

As you journeyed from the gloomy corridors of the Red Keep to the sulfuric atmosphere of Dragonstone and now to the sandy shores and scattered shells of Driftmark, an air of sadness seemed to cling to you wherever you went. You stood at the edge of a cliff, gazing down at the tranquil sea, overlooking the stone coffin that cradled your late Aunt Laena. Two deaths, each carrying its weight of sorrow, yet only one mourned.

You wondered what it would be like to die choked in flames like Ser Harwin and Lyonel Strong did. Would it be the same as suffering dragon fire like your Aunt? Most likely not. Hers was a swift burning of flesh from bones, while theirs was hours of agony and suffocation. 

Despite what your family claimed, the idea of dying to your own dragon’s flames wasn’t an appealing end to you. It didn’t seem noble like how stories explained it to be. It was horrifying to have your skin torched from your body, to feel the power of a thousand suns on your flesh. It would be excruciatingly painful, and you wished it upon no one, not even those you despised most. You would much rather meet the Stranger in your sleep. 

You barely settled into your new home on Dragonstone before your mother received the two ravens. One bringing news of Ser Harwin and the other of Laena, containing death in the ink. You consoled your mother and father as best you could, hugging and kissing and telling them that you loved them and were sorry. It was an impossible task to do, but you couldn’t help yourself. You hated seeing them so distraught and wanted to make them feel better. 

At night, you cried into your pillows in your now isolated bedroom until Jace and Luke entered, watery eyes matching yours. As the eldest, it was your job to hold your family together when your parents couldn’t, and it left you no time to properly grieve the loss of an Aunt and a father figure.

You felt terrible for your cousins Baela and Rhaena. To go to bed one night and wake up the next without a mother was a depth of grief you couldn’t imagine. You didn’t think you could live a life without your mother; you would die with her, and the ability of your cousins to continue without her was admirable as you observed their sullen faces streaked with tears. 

Your Great Uncle Vaemond spoke his sermon in High Valyrian, which was too fast and practiced for you to understand. You could decipher some words here and there, but ultimately, you were lost listening to a man you rarely met. You felt your mother straighten her stance from behind, her arms coming to circle the three of you in a protective embrace.

Vaemond’s eyes were on yours, Luke’s, and Jace’s, but everyone else was focused on him—on the coffin with Lady Laena’s face carved into it.

As your eyes wandered to the other people surrounding the funeral procession, fear struck you as you caught your eldest uncle’s eye. It wasn’t very comforting to see Aegon so soon. You had set it in your mind that you wouldn’t have to see him for many years, and yet, here you were, dressed in an obsidian and red-sleeved gown, pearls adorning the collar and your veiled headpiece. Quickly, you turned away, instinctually taking Jace’s hand in yours.

An air of stiffness surrounded your family that you weren’t blind to. It was always there, but now, more than before, you felt it. You thought it was childish to be so locked into familial drama when someone lay dead inside a casket. Though you didn’t remember much of the times you met your Aunt Laena, she still deserved the respect of putting these grievances aside. You knew you were part of it, but more important things were happening than what you suffered. 

The cries of your father sent waves of sadness into your heart, and with the sudden urge to get him to stop, you left the safety of your brother and clung to your father’s waist. He lifted you into his sea-worn arms and clung to your frail body as if it was the only thing that kept him from sinking into his grief. You rested your temple onto his shoulder, tears of empathy falling from your eyes as he pressed your head closer. 

Afraid of what would become of your father if you let go, you allowed him to crush you in his embrace for as long as he needed it as a scornful laugh broke through the tense atmosphere. You peeked from your position to see Great Uncle Daemon chuckling to himself with a shake of his head at what Vaemond said. You felt annoyance bubble inside you, solidifying your distaste for the man as the Velaryon guards clad in silver armor and blue seahorse sigils lifted the ropes and lowered your Aunt into the roaring sea. 

You didn’t leave your father’s side for the remainder of the day, not even when he slowly lowered himself into the sea with his sister as the cold, salty breeze swept through the evening. You wanted to speak with Aemond, if just for a small moment, but your family came first. They always came before anyone else, a fact that your mother instilled into the very fabric of your being.

Sitting atop one of the rock ledges near your father, you dipped your feet into the saltwater, dragging your toes to watch the water ripple and allow time to pass. It didn’t feel right to leave him alone. The image of him falling into the ocean as your Aunt played repeatedly in your mind’s eye. You were afraid in his grief, he would follow her. Only when your father’s squire, Ser Qarl, took your father from his place with his sister did you leave, joining the rest of the goers for the wake late in the evening.

Searching through the crowd of people for your mother and your brothers, you couldn’t find them. Alone with none of your family for protection, you felt fear pull at your chest. Your hands began to scratch at your arms and scalp, attempting to quell the insatiable itch. The fabric prevented you from doing so, and tears of fright soon began to collect at your lashes. 

From across the balcony, you saw a flash of green, a color that had never offered you comfort until now. Yet as quickly as you saw it, it vanished, leaving only a head of white promptly running down the stairs. You felt your heart drop into your feet as you watched Aemond run across the sandy dunes like he was running from you. 

The call of a dragon you never heard before screeched through the gray skies. It was mournful as if it were calling for a lost pet or child. In this case, it was a rider. As you looked up, you could see the vast shadow of Vhagar’s silhouette soaring through the clouds, flying in the same direction your uncle went. You felt your eyes grow wide with worry at the realization, wanting to chase after Aemond and warn him.

“Let’s get you to bed,” a tender, feminine voice came from behind you as you jolted in surprise. The tall figure of Queen Alicent stood before you, curly auburn hair pinned back into a magnificent updo and clad in her usual green and gold as she put a hand on your back. “Your mother already sent your brothers.” 

“Where is she?” you hastily asked. Aemond was no longer on your mind.

“I’m uncertain. Your father is off drowning his sorrow in his cups with his squire,” she answered in the same velvet voice you remembered her having, bitterness you didn’t understand laced in the undertone.

You felt offended by how the Queen spoke about your father. He was grieving. He was allowed to spend time with whomever he wished, doing what he wanted.

Alicent lifted her arm, wrapping it around your petite frame, and led you inside Hightide. It was not as cold or formidable as Dragonstone; its dark magic melted into the walls, yet it didn’t hold the warmth of the Red Keep. Still, you felt unwelcomed here, either by the place or its people. The pale stone walls were filled with bits and pieces of shells from clams, mollusks, and other long-dead shell creatures mixed into the mortar to make it stand the test of salty air. 

The Hall of the Nine, where you passed as Queen Alicent, led you to the guest chambers, where you held the Driftwood throne where your grandfather Corlys reigned. You recalled when you visited this place many years ago and how he went on about the many treasures from his sieges and conquests that decorated the room in all its glory. He and his wife, Rhaenys, sat in a heated discussion in front of the hearth.

Once you reached the door to your shared bed chambers with your brothers, Alicent turned to you. It was the first time you had seen her since what Aegon had done to you, and you felt tension. It seemed as if she wanted to speak, to say everything that had been bottled up since the revelation of her son’s transgressions, but she was unable to do so as tears choked her. Instead, the only words that came out were those she couldn’t say to her children. 

“I hope you can find the time to visit the Keep. Helaena asked when you would be returning, and it broke my heart to tell her you wouldn’t be,” she confided, stroking the thin black fabric covering your dark hair. “Aemond has turned inwards since you left, and Aegon has become crueler to him. It makes me wonder if he’s always been this way and that my love for him has blinded me from his transgressions.” 

You said nothing. The mention of Aegon’s name still felt like a blow to the stomach. “I hope you can find it within your heart to forgive my son for what he did to you and that we may yet be the family we were always meant to be.” Your tongue felt like lead as your breathing began to race, your chest rising and falling at a rapid pace as Alicent kneeled before you, a sad smile on her supple lips as she tenderly swiped your tear-stained cheeks with her smooth thumbs. 

“I love you, my shining light, my dream.” 

Leaning in, she took your small frame by your shoulders, kissing your forehead as one would do to their babe. You felt sick, nausea churning in your stomach as you quickly opened the bedroom door, hastily shutting it behind you in fright. 

It was all too much—Lady Laena’s death, Ser Harwin’s, seeing your father in shambles, and Queen Alicent’s steadfast belief that you should become a part of her family no matter what happened to you. The Queen desired to wed you and Aegon despite the horrors he committed. The realization that she genuinely didn’t see what your eldest uncle did to you as something that would permanently bar you from joining the union pierced your heart. You would much rather marry Aemond or Helaena, but having no ties to her seemed better.

Your brothers peered at you curiously from their beds as you clutched your chest, looking as if you ran the entire way here. They didn’t ask any questions, and you didn’t move to speak, loosening the ties of your gown and shrugging it off until you were only in your smock. You didn’t feel like changing into your nightdress in front of your brothers, deciding to climb into bed and shove your face into the pillows, refusing to cry in front of Jace and Luke as you fell into a dreamless sleep.

When Aemond learned of Lady Laena’s death, he knew it was a sign from the Gods that his time had come. The Seven had deemed this the moment to prove himself to everyone who doubted him and thought him useless without a dragon. 

Vhagar. 

The largest, oldest, and strongest dragon in the world was riderless. 

Aemond believed that once he gained the only thing he lacked, life would finally be what it should have been. He would make his father proud, shove all the taunts and jests from Aegon and his nephews back into their faces, and finally become a man you deemed worthy—your Mors Martell. 

As Aemond fled from the wake when the candles had long melted, he thought only of the ichor coursing through his veins. Dusk was upon the island, and the night’s wind blew harshly, strands of his silver-blonde hair covering his face as he climbed over the dunes. Vhagar was further from the castle than he initially thought.

“Fuck.” Aemond released a sigh of exasperation and scrambled across the uneven ground. 

When he came upon the dragon, he was in awe. Vhagar was as frightening as she was enormous—a giant, green-scaled, moving mountain that shook the ground and blew sand with every movement and breath from her powerful lungs. 

Taking advantage of Vhagar’s resting state, Aemond crept along the sparse grass, feeling each gust of air she created with her wide nostrils, blowing the sand into his face and ears. Anxiety was present in his gut, feeling a slight tremble in his limbs as he closed the distance, wrapping his hand around one of the many ropes draped across Vhagar’s scales. Suddenly, he felt the ground underneath him quake, and the head of the dragon lifted with a low rumble.

Vhagar observed Aemond with tired yet calculating amber orbs, double eyelids blinking. She grumbled as she bore her teeth to him. They were the size of a fully grown adult, sending a shiver down his spine. As if it were an act of divine intervention, Vhagar laid her enormous head back down, seeming disinterested in the young boy before her. 

If Lady Laena’s death wasn’t proof enough Aemond was fated by the Gods to claim a dragon, the most powerful beast in the world, laying its head in acquiescence certainly was. Blinded by his small victory, nerves still in his mind, he reached for the rope ladder again, only for Vhagar to raise her head and growl, low and deep. A snarl formed on her great maw as Aemond stumbled back in shock and saw the light of orange flames gather at the back of her throat. 

“Dohaerās!” (Serve!) he shouted instinctively, recalling the many lessons he observed in the Dragonpit as he felt the heat of fire on his countenance. “Dohaerās, Vagus! Lykirī!” (Serve, Vhagar! Be calm!)

With Aemond’s commands, the she-dragon relaxed, recalling her flames and closing her mouth. She purred to him like a cat, a sign that she approved his merit while standing in the face of death. Vhagar would allow the Prince an attempt to claim her, but he must prove himself before the eyes of the Gods, before the eyes of a dragon. 

Aemond took the ropes and climbed atop the mighty Vhagar’s back, positioning himself in the saddle and grabbing the reigns. 

“Sōvēs!” (Fly!) Aemond ordered, and Vhagar rumbled, raising her legs and shaking the sand from her scales. “Sōvēs!”

She obeyed, taking a few giant steps and flapping her great wings, pushing off from the ground and leaving a sandstorm in her wake. Though Aemond told Vhagar to fly, he still had yet to control her as she took to the night sky in a near-vertical position, catching him unaware. The force knocked him from the leather saddle, leaving him dangling in the air with just the reigns for purchase. Aemond screamed with fear, feeling as if his stomach lurched out of his body as he struggled against the whipping wind to regain control. 

She tested him as he grabbed the pommel, sat upright, and pulled the ropes to balance her. He felt like he was on a bucking horse, loosening, tightening, twisting, and turning to the left and right to steer her safely. Vhagar ignored Aemond’s movements and continued to fly like he wasn’t there, diving into the dunes of Driftmark before he reared her upwards, dragging her claws across the sand. He squealed in terror, blocking the debris that scratched his face as she soared over the sea.

Aemond knew he needed to prove himself to her, to show the war-hardened dragon that he deserved to ride her. Her chirps and groans from the day earlier called to him like nothing before, singing to the Prince in her dragon song of forlornness and isolation. Perhaps that was why he felt compelled to claim her. They both shared that feeling of loneliness deep within their souls, that same oddness in their families. The dragoness was too large to be held within any structure, leaving her in forced solitude, her only companions being her rider. Aemond was the only one, despite his Valyrian features, not to have a dragon. 

That would no longer be his story.

Aemond fortified his mind and will, putting his soul into his movements as he lifted Vhagar higher in the sky. He could feel the blood of Old Valyria coursing through his veins as the mighty dragon obeyed, leveling out her vast wings and soaring over Spicetown and back to Driftmark. He screamed with fear and joy as she flew with him in the skies, a bright smile he was sure you could see in Lannisport. 

Aemond had proven himself. He had shown himself and all who doubted and bullied him for not having a dragon that he was capable, that he was worthy. 

Everything was as it should be.

Perhaps you would allow him to kiss you again and spend the night in his embrace. Aemond had no doubt you would be proud of him as he listened to your assurances that he was brave, a dragon knight who you could trust with your secrets and protect you from enemies, and that he deserved your heart. 

Aemond landed Vhagar with a grace he hadn’t possessed before, climbing down the rope ladder on her side with windburnt cheeks. As soon as his feet touched the sand, he ran straight to the underground caverns of High Tide to wake you and explain everything.

“Jace!” 

You faintly heard a voice calling, sounding distant in your dream state. Ignoring it with a groan, you rolled over, trying to return to sleep.

“Jace, wake up! Someone stole Vhagar!”

This woke you from your sleep. You sat up to see Baela and Rhaena hovering over your brother’s bed. 

“We need to stop them!”

Jace and Luke quickly threw the covers off and stuck their feet into their slippers as you observed them curiously. Rubbing the sleep from your face, you yawned, begrudgingly following them. 

“You cannot steal a dragon,” you countered after a long silence in the pale stone halls, your voice laced with sleep. It felt like you had hardly gotten a wink. 

“She is my mother’s dragon! I was supposed to claim her,” Rhaena countered, tears collecting in her dark eyes. 

Yawning again as you followed a few paces behind your siblings and cousins, you rolled your eyes, wanting to bite with the remark, “Why didn’t you?” But you didn’t say it. The reason was apparent why she didn’t, and Rhaena didn’t need any more reason to be distraught.

They led you to the caverns of High Tide, stumbling in your sleepless state. They led to the beaches lit only by dim torchlight, your movements groggy and slightly annoyed. On the other end of the tunnel, Aemond appeared before you with a proud grin and windswept hair. You couldn’t help but mirror his expression, a contagious self-satisfaction that spread to you. 

He needn’t say it aloud. You could tell by how he carried himself, shoulders back, chin high, and a slight lift to his cheeks, that your uncle claimed a dragon—the mightiest one in the world, Vhagar. 

“It’s him!” Rhaena exclaimed, pointing an accusing finger at Aemond.

It didn’t deter him, countering with his head high, violet eyes flicking from you to your cousin. “It’s me.”

“Vhagar is my mother’s dragon!” she yelled, hurt as if this reasoning would change Vhagar’s fate. As you moved to Aemond, Jace grabbed your hand, stopping you with an anxious yet demanding look on his face. 

“Your mother is dead, and Vhagar has a new rider now,” your uncle replied, and you felt your brows raise in shock. You knew better than most of the cruelty he could commit, but after spending time with Aemond and seeing the softer, gentler, and kinder side of him, it took you off guard. 

“She was mine to claim!” Rhaena argued, charging toward him in a challenge. Your skin began to itch, and your breath quickened. 

The hatred felt at the funeral carried over into your brothers and cousins. Tension in the air crackled like a fire in a hearth, watching the yellow and orange flames slowly dwindle into embers until someone threw tinder to spark it.

“Then you should’ve claimed her! Maybe your cousins can find you a pig to ride,” Aemond sneered. “It would suit you.”

Your lips parted in empathetic offense as you looked from your uncle to Rhaena, tears of guilt and shame pricking at your eyes. You apologized about the pig, and you thought Aemond forgave you, but it seems he couldn’t let go of the hurt no matter how close you were. The feeling of joy for your uncle’s feat was as brief as your friendship.

With a surge of rage, Rhaena charged forward, attempting to push Aemond, but he swiftly countered, and she fell to the ground. You jumped back in shock as you covered your mouth, Luke standing beside you. Baela screamed, protecting her sister as she punched him across his face and Aemond yelped in pain. Without thinking, you went toward your uncle, fearful for his well-being in your heart, but he swiftly stood before you could reach him, returning the same swing to Baela. You gasped in horror and moved to the side, narrowly missing your cousin’s body from colliding with yours. 

“Come at me again, and I’ll feed you to my dragon!” Aemond snarled at the twins, and without warning, Jace ran to him with a shout, shoving your uncle in offended anger and smacking him across the cheek.

You screamed for them to stop as you watched Luke try to join the fray, but you held him back, scared that he would get caught in the crossfire. He was the youngest and the littlest, most likely to get hurt. You needed to protect what family you could. Aemond brought this upon himself with his words of arrogance, but that didn’t stop you from wanting to defend him, too.

The scene before you was violent, a flurry of white, black, and red running atop Aemond as Luke slipped from your grasp, all pummeling, kicking, and screaming at him as you cried for them to stop. He was helpless as he suffered blow after blow, and you felt your heart splinter. This wasn’t a fair fight. Without worrying for yourself, you jumped on top of Jace, pulling him back from your uncle and giving him a chance to defend himself. You felt like a betrayer, turning against your twin to save your uncle. Your brother grunted as you both fell to the ground, his body on top of you as you struggled to keep him from fighting. 

You and your siblings had fought before, but nothing like this. It was so vicious, filled with violence and want for pain, as Jace whipped his head back into yours, causing it to slam against one of the many jagged rocks across the ground, having you see stars. He went back into the brawl with no worry for your safety as you heard the unsheathing of a knife, your eyes blurry as you struggled to see the scene before you. 

“You will die screaming in flames just as your father did!” Aemond yelled, suddenly holding Luke by his neck with a rock in his hand.

“My father is alive!” Luke gasped in protest, flinging his arms and blood running down his face.

You needed to get up to protect Luke from physical harm and the threat of discovering your lineage. You didn’t believe Aemond would kill Luke. He was capable of violence, but he wasn’t a murderer. As you tried to move, your skull felt filled with sand, pulling you back down to the ground as you felt the warm trickle of liquid run down your neck. You blinked rapidly, trying to clear your sight and mind. 

Aemond spoke again to Jace, seeming to forget your existence and holding a sense of superiority. “He doesn’t know, does he, Lord Strong?” 

You forgot how cruel Aemond could be. Your stolen moments of reading and kisses in the night had closed your eyes to it.

“Aemond, don’t,” you mumbled, skull pounding as the excruciating sounds of your brothers and uncle’s shouts pierced your ears like needles. 

You blinked your eyes into focus, seeing Jace wildly swinging a knife at Aemond as you managed to kneel. Your brothers didn’t realize how dangerous what they were doing was, that a knife wasn’t something to use against someone who was armed with only a stone in hand. While Aemond was bigger and had more combat experience, a dagger would kill him. Being upset because someone claimed a dragon wasn’t worth murdering over. 

Reaching your arm out with a soft grunt, you grabbed Jace’s ankle as Aemond pushed him over, holding the same rock above his head as he did for Luke. You thought Aemond knew better than this. You gave him the perfect opportunity to run and get help now that Baela and Rhaena huddled into a scared, crying mess, but he was too far gone into his anger to see reason, blinded by it. 

“Aemond! No!” you shouted hoarsely, trying to stand but failing as your head pounded like a drumbeat.

He turned to you then, lowering the rock to his side as he stared at you with the sudden realization of what he had done. Your uncle was filled with a surge of superiority inside him. He couldn’t think straight, and when he happened upon the five of you, people he was always told that he was above, something inside him that lay dormant finally broke free. He knew he was always capable of violence, but felt remorse when he saw your bruised nose, tear-streaked cheeks, and blood dripping down your throat. 

Did he do that to you? 

Suddenly, Aemond was blinded, sand thrown into his eyes as he stumbled back and heard the yell of Luke, unimaginable pain soon following. You watched in horror as your brother savagely sliced into your uncle’s left eye, blood pouring and splattering across the ground. 

Aemond couldn’t remember if you were amid his attackers. He surveyed the bruised and battered bodies before him and realized what he had done as his stomach fell to his feet.

He hurt people, just like Aegon. You would never entrust your secrets to him. His hands committed violence, but his heart desired to tell a different story—one of a strong and noble prince who went through many trials and tribulations to prove himself worthy of the princess's heart.

All you could hear were screams. Screams from you, screams from Aemond as you crawled towards him, sobbing. 

“Aemond!” you cried as he doubled over, falling into your body as he screeched in pain. 

“It hurts!” he wailed into your chest, his free hand clawing into your back. “It hurts! Help me!” 

You trembled, arms struggling to keep yourself upright against his weight as the flurry of guards rumbled inside your skull like thunder. Unable to make out their words as they moved, it seemed like you were watching the world from outside your body, from the lenses of another, as Ser Harrold pried Aemond from your embrace.

It hurt. Everything hurt—your heart, stomach, muscles, and head. You weren’t sure who led you, Baela, Rhaena, Luke, and Jace to the Hall of the Nine as a flurry of people gathered, pushing and shoving as you clutched your skull. The room was so bright, so loud, as you heard your uncle’s screams. You felt sturdy arms grab you by your shoulders, roughly moving you as if you were nothing more than a doll, as it felt like your eyes were about to burst. Steel blue fabric blocked your eyes as you saw the hazy image of a seahorse stitched into the fabric.

“Father?” You reached out, small digits feeling along the fine silk until the texture of scruff scratched at your skin. Blinking, you saw the aged face of your grandfather, Lord Corlys, as he gathered you and your brothers behind him. 

Where was he, and where was your mother? 

You felt sick as people scattered around you like seagulls when they discovered a bloated whale carcass, all trying to see the injured Prince, who cried until the Maester poured Milk of the Poppy down his throat. It felt like when you accidentally drank the water from Blackwater Bay, like a cold, nauseous sensation that sent beads of sweat rolling down your spine. 

“I don’t feel good,” you whispered to Jace as you leaned into his side, clutching your head and gut. He paid you no mind, peering behind your grandfather to see your other one appear, bearing total weight upon his dragon-head cane. 

“How could you let such a thing happen?” Viserys questioned Ser Harrold, examining Aemond as you heard the sickening squelch of flesh and rattle of metal tools. “I will have answers!”

Despite it undoubtedly being a harrowing sight, you wanted to be by your uncle, to hold his hand through it, to feel his pain with him, but you couldn’t. You needed to be with your brothers. What they saw and experienced would haunt them for the rest of their lives. Luke had taken Aemond’s eye. 

“The princess and princes were supposed to be abed, my king,” the Lord Commander of the Kingsguard explained, shame woven in his words. 

Viserys wouldn’t allow his knights to show such carelessness, surveying each of them with critical eyes. “Who had the watch?”

“The young prince was attacked by his cousins, your grace,” Ser Cristion nonchalantly replied. His words angered you for reasons unknown, and you felt a lump rise in your throat. 

Viserys turned to the room, looking between the two Kingsguards on opposite sides of the family as he hobbled on his cane. “You swore oaths to protect and defend my blood!” he boomed in a way you hadn’t seen before. You were afraid he would direct his anger at you, Jace, and Luke, wrapping your arms around them like you were in any state to protect your brothers. 

“I’m very sorry, your grace,” Ser Westerling said, head hung low in unimaginable disgrace. You felt bad for him. There was no way he could have stopped this. He was doing his duty and serving his King. It was Ser Criston who should be blamed.

“The Kingsguard has never had to defend princes from princes before, your grace-”

“That is no answer!” your grandfather yelled at Ser Criston, causing a clap of pain to thunder inside your skull. 

You wanted to go to bed, sleep for eternity, and be awake to everything as it was yesterday. Your brothers and cousins unbloodied and Aemond dragonless and with an eye. 

“Where’s mother?” you noiselessly questioned Jace, leaning into his ear and almost losing your footing. You needed to stay strong for them. 

“It will heal, will it not? Maester?” Queen Alicent asked, velveteen voice quivering with pain for her poor son. Maester Kelvyn finished stitching Aemond’s skin, throwing the needle and thread into a bowl with your uncle’s fleshy, viscous eye. 

“The flesh will heal. The eye is lost, your grace,” his nasal voice replied matter-of-factly.

You were going to be ill. 

Quickly, you ran through the multitude of people, pushing past Lord Corlys and Princess Rhaenys, who tried to stop you before you vomited all the contents of your stomach onto a person’s unsuspecting shoes. The crowd gasped in revolt, those not close to you jumping back and clutching their chests in shock. You found yourself before the fireplace, basking in its comforting warmth as you leaned onto the hearth and looked at the unlucky soul you retched on. 

Perhaps the Gods had a twisted sense of justice as you saw the disgusted face of Aegon before you. You didn’t hide your amused smirk.

“Tend to the Princess!” the King shouted to the Maester, seeming to forget about his injured son and throwing his cane in your direction. 

A flurry of green came before pale gray, tenderly cradling your visage in her palms as if you were her child, inspecting it. You grabbed the Queen’s wrists and attempted to push her away as if her touch burned, but she resisted, struggling against your childish strength until she grabbed your shoulders. Her touch reminded you of Aegon as you burst into tears, muscles going limp and at Queen Alicent’s mercy. She turned your head in her grasp, examining you with the utmost care that made another wave of nausea through you. 

The crowd observed in anxious silence as Aemond turned to watch his mother treat you with the affection he wished to receive. Familiar hatred bloomed inside his heart, swallowing his dry mouth as he thought resentfully. He would still have his eye if he hadn’t been so concerned with you. 

“I want my mother.” you whimpered, lips quivering in fear as the Queen lovingly wiped the blood from your neck. 

The Queen released you from her grip as if you had struck her, chest heaving and wide brown eyes watering as she turned to her eldest son. Your mother was here; you didn’t realize it.

“Where were you?” she interrogated Aegon, smacking him upside down before he could answer. 

“Ow! What was that for?” he questioned, incredulously rubbing at the afflicted area grimly. You held no sympathy for him as you hugged your sides. 

“That was nothing compared to the abuse your siblings suffered while you were drowning in your cups, you fool!” she whispered heatedly so only he could hear, shaking his gangly body in rage. You looked at the Queen with confusion, thinking she had gone mad with grief when she said “siblings.”

As the grand Hall doors creaked open, a shaft of golden light spilled into the room, casting long shadows on the marble floor. With an air of elegance, your mother swept into the room, her silk gown trailing behind her. Following closely was Uncle Daemon, his formidable presence filling the space. Amidst the whispers and murmurs, your name and that of your brothers floated through the air, drawing your attention. Without a second thought, you moved toward her, the sensation of fingertips brushing your bicep as if a ghostly hand had tried to hold you back, sending shivers down your spine.

“Show me, show me!” your mother ordered you and Luke, softly running her digits across your body as you sobbed with relief. “Who did this?”

“They attacked me!” Aemond yelled before you could get a word out, leaning from behind his chair. 

You saw his wound on full display. An ugly crisscrossed row of stitches lined up his eye socket and onto his forehead, the flesh puckered and pink as it fought the infection. Your mother moved your face before you could stare any longer as a chorus of accusations from your brothers and cousins sang. You couldn’t get the image of his gash out of your head. 

“He was going to kill Jace! I didn’t do anything!” Luke loudly shouted as you scrunched your eyes with a painful wince.

“Enough!” you heard your grandfather yell, and you looked at him with helpless, watery eyes, but no one listened. 

“It should be my son telling the tale!” the Queen protested, fist pounding against her chest with conviction over the voices.

You continued to look at your grandfather in anguish, the King of The Seven Kingdoms, whom everyone ignored except you. “Silence!” he yelled, voice rattling inside his hollow chest as flem flew from his decaying mouth. 

The Hall went silent, quieter than the Stranger himself, as everyone looked at one another, stunned at the turn of events. People came here to mourn the loss of a daughter, an aunt, a niece, a wife, and a sister. Viserys looked at you and then at his son, his ivory staff sounding with every movement as you swallowed, the taste of bile strong. 

“He called us bastards.” you silently whispered to your mother, wiping the tears and snot from your face.

“Aemond, I will have the truth of what happened.” The King approached your uncle as he slumped into the armchair, stepping swiftly and with a newfound curiosity. “Now.”

“What else is there to hear?” Alicent questioned, clutching at her neck as tears threatened to spill. “Your son has been maimed, and her son is responsible.”

“Twas a regrettable accident,” your mother countered, moving her body to shadow the three of you from the onlookers.

“Accident?” the Queen repeated, astonished. “The Prince Lucerys brought a blade to the ambush! He meant to kill my son!” 

You realized the truth didn’t matter now. All that did was what people perceived it to be. 

“Twas my children who were attacked and forced to defend themselves!” your mother argued as she placed a comforting hand onto Luke’s shoulders. “Vile insults were levied against them!” 

Your grandfather turned from his son to the four of you as you inhaled a shuddering breath. “What insults?” he questioned, a dangerous lilt to his tone that you had never heard before as the Hall went silent. It raised the hairs on your arms. 

“The legitimacy of my children’s birth was put loudly to question,” your mother replied, her chin high yet holding a nervous waver to her voice. 

As she turned towards you, your mother’s eyes conveyed a silent but insistent demand to verbalize what you previously whispered. She wished everyone to hear these words from you—the compassionate and considerate eldest daughter known as The Gods’ Light among the common folk. With tears streaming down your cheeks and your chest heaving with emotion, you gazed at Aemond with a sense of guilt. You knew the words you were about to utter would carry an extraordinary weight. Both sides sought someone to bear responsibility for the turmoil, but you recognized the unspoken truth. 

At that moment, honesty seemed inconsequential. Aemond had suffered the loss of his eye due to Luke’s actions, and you keenly felt your failure to shield your brothers from harm. You would never fault at your duty again. 

“He called us bastards,” you confessed, lacking the anger and conviction of your siblings as you sniffled, refusing to look at Aemond. 

You watched as the Queen’s auburn tresses bounced with the slight affirming nod of her head, a look of disbelief and recognition crossing her face. At that moment, it became clear that she had informed Aemond about the deception, hardening your heart with betrayal. You had believed that she was different and loved you like family, and it stung to realize that she didn’t hesitate to spread lies that would hurt you.

“My children are to inherit the Iron Throne, your grace. This is the highest of treasons,” your mother reasoned, stepping forward to her slouched father as you attempted to reach for her hand to keep you hidden. “Prince Aemond must be sharply questioned so we might learn where he heard such awful slanders.”

As you gazed at your mother, her expression eerily mirroring that of Alicent’s, your lips began to quiver with unease. Was your mother implying that he should be subjected to torture? It seemed unfathomable. She couldn’t possibly be serious.

“Over an insult?” the Queen asked, shaking her head in disbelief. You knew she was trying to protect herself as you glared at the woman you once thought held the moon. “My son has lost an eye!”

“Tell me, boy. Where did you hear such lies?” the King seethed, face a hairsbreadth from Aemond as you whimpered.

“The insult was training yard bluster,” Alicent swiftly reasoned, eyes flicking desperately from her son to her husband. “The lot of boys. ‘Twas nothing-”

“Aemond,” your grandfather interrupted, ignoring his wife’s explanation. “I asked you a question.” 

Your uncle sat in solemn silence, his lone violet eye unwaveringly fixed on the ground while his father awaited his reply. Before he could utter a word, the Queen unexpectedly interjected. 

“Where is Ser Laenor, the children’s father? Perhaps he would have something to say on the matter,” she jeered.

Your grandfather turned, sparse brows scrunching together as he turned to Lord Corlys and Princess Rhaenys. “Yes. Where is Ser Laenor?”

“I do not know, your grace. I… could not find sleep and decided to take a walk,” your mother answered for them, smooth palms wiping across her crimson skirt.

The Queen let out a derisive laugh, her disbelief evident as she shook her head at her old friend. It was impossible to ignore the precise timing of Daemon’s arrival into the Hall of the Nine, trailing just moments behind Rhaenyra with her tousled strands of golden hair. Alicent bore the knowledge of her friend’s calculated machinations, even as Rhaenyra’s children stealthily slipped out of their beds to perpetrate the heinous act of maiming her son. She couldn’t dismiss the nagging suspicion that Ser Laenor was likely engaged in equally treacherous activities.

“Entertaining his young squires, I presume,” Queen Alicent sneered like before, making you feel the same deep-seated ire. 

As no one dared to voice their opposition to her words, a glint of silver caught your eye from the corner, revealing Ser Criston Cole’s silent laughter. Like Ser Harwin, you felt the urge to wipe that smug grin off his tanned face, even though you knew it was impossible.

“Aemond, look at me. Your King demands an answer,” your grandfather began, staggering before your uncle. “Who spoke the lies to you?”

Everything went silent; the roaring of the fire and the crashing of the waves in the darkness were all that could be heard in the Hall. You understood that whoever Aemond implicated might not live til the next morn. You felt your throat grow tight and struggled to breathe, clutching at your throat as you swallowed the acrid taste in your mouth. Queen Alicent told him as you recalled the time in Helaena’s room. It confused you at first why she would spread such gossip as she seemed to hold a tenderness for you. Claiming your brothers were bastards went without saying you were, but you realized that whatever contempt she had within her heart weighed far more significant than any affection for you. 

Some of you wished to shout that it was her, but you realized that was something Alicent would do without a second thought if the roles were reversed, and you did not want to be like her. She was wicked and cruel, just like her eldest.

“It was Aegon. He told Aemond to call us that,” you answered as every pair of eyes flocked to you. You didn’t like how close your grandfather was to him, afraid that he might strike him for the consequences of his mother. You felt your heart lurch into your throat as you gained the courage to speak the words aloud of all the bad things he did to you. “And he… he”

Before you could finish, your mother tucked you into her waist, kneeling and pushing your face into her shoulder. You tried to pull away from her when his hand rested on your head, the welt sensitive to touch. 

“Don’t,” she whispered into your hair, disguising it as a kiss. They deserved to know. Everyone needed to know what awful Aegon did to you. You wanted to move against her, but your mind was foggy and muscles weak.

“Me?” Aegon exclaimed with shock, wide amethyst orbs looking at you with a broken expression. 

“And you, boy,” your grandfather crept towards him, the rhythmic tapping of his cane piercing your skull like an ice pick. “Where did you hear such calumnies?” Your uncle refused to answer him as his gaze bore holes into your being. There was no remorse in your heart for him. “Aegon, tell me the truth of it!” Viserys shouted, causing you to flinch and cover your ears. 

“We know, father,” Aegon replied fearlessly, refusing to remove his stare from your quivering form. “Everyone knows. Just look at them.”

Feeling the stares from the guests, you admired your uncle for not implicating his mother like a coward, removing your body from your mother, wiping the snot from your lip. Let them look, you thought, inhaling a deep breath as you felt your mother bring you closer. They would stare at you for the rest of your days. It was best if you grew accustomed to it now.

“This interminable infighting must cease!” the King declared, banging his walking stick off the pale stone floor. “All of you! We are family! Now, make your apologies and show goodwill to one another. Your father, your grandsire, your King demands it.” 

You grimaced at his words, and though you loved your grandfather, having been his favorite granddaughter, you disagreed with him. You refused to apologize for your family trying to defend themselves, and the Queen couldn’t help but agree more. 

“That is insufficient,” Alicent said, gesturing to her son. “Aemond has been damaged permanently, my King. Goodwill cannot make him whole.” 

Aemond’s fingers dug into the wooden framing of the armchair, and your chin quivered at the thought of what he might be feeling. 

“I know, Alicent,” Viserys sighed, “but I cannot restore his eye.”

“No, because it’s been taken,” she sobbed, clutching at her chest, flicking her hair back in a manner that reminded you of Aegon. “There is a debt to be paid. I shall have the hand of her eldest to one of my sons. To mend the rift and unite the House of the Dragon once more.”

“Alicent,” your grandfather breathed in a warning, yet still turned to his daughter, having a hint of hope in his violet eyes.

You looked at your mother, shock overcoming any sadness you felt as she shoved you behind her skirts like a hen would do to her chick, too stunned to speak. “I refuse.” 

The Queen shook her head, a sneer curling her plump lips and wet cheeks. Rhaenyra was a selfish, wicked woman with no inclination of decency. Why couldn’t she see this would be solved if she returned Alicent’s rightful daughter to her? The Queen steeled herself to the belief that she would have to fight for her right to have you. She knew deep in her bones that you would one day be by her side.

“Then I shall have one of her sons’ eyes in return. The Princess is innocent,” the Queen declared with a desperate wave of tears. 

Aemond looked to his mother, face impassive, and senses dulled from Milk of the Poppy. He didn’t recall telling her about what you did for him, though it was very little. It felt like he was becoming a second thought to his mother, who seemed only to be scheming on how to insert his niece into their lives. Aemond realized then that he would always be second in his mother’s heart to you, and he felt hollow at the thought, the love that once filled it for his niece ceasing to exist.

“Do not allow your temper to guide your judgment,” your grandfather warned Queen Alicent. She said nothing as her chest heaved, brown orbs flicking between her husband and old friend.

Believing the matter finished, the King backed away, but Alicent wouldn’t allow this to be the end. She looked to her sworn protector, an apathetic expression on her visage. 

“If the King will not seek justice, the Queen will. Ser Criston, bring me the eye of Lucerys Velaryon.” Ser Criston looked to the Queen with a startled expression as Luke cried for your mother. “He can choose which eye to keep, a privilege he did not grant my son.”

“You will do no such thing,” your mother steadfastly declared, ensuring the three of you were behind her.

“Stay your hand,” the King commanded as the Queen shook with rage, desperately looking between her husband and sworn protector. She reminded you of a deer cornered in a vast forest, listening to the distant howls of wolves closing in for the hunt.

“No, you are sworn to me!” she yelled, finger pointing to her chest indignantly. All waited for the knight to respond, the Lord Commander slowly bringing his hand to the hilt of his sword.

“Protect your brother,” your mother whispered, never straying her eyes from the Queen. Without further instruction, you stood before Luke, gradually backing him away from the group of people unnoticed. You understood Alicent would not hurt you, as did your mother. 

“As your protector, my Queen,” Ser Criston replied with a wary head tilt.

“Alicent, this matter is finished. Do you understand?” your grandfather declared, seething, his face centimeters away from his wife before he addressed the room. “And let it be known that if anyone’s tongue dares to question, the birth of Rhaenyra’s children should have it removed.” 

Breathing a sigh of relief, you let go of Luke, coming to take your place beside your mother as she thanked the King. The unsheathing of a blade cut through the room as the form of Queen Alicent charged toward your family, startling you, the King’s ancestral dagger in her grasp. Luke screamed as she reached the four of you, but your mother stepped in her path before Alicent could enact her rage. 

Suddenly, a person shoved into you, disregarding your existence as you found yourself on the floor. You noticed how the stone seemed to ebb and wave like the flow of the tide. Lord Corlys appeared beside you, lifting you into his arms, securely bound around your torso as he took you into the circle of your cousins and brothers, your mother struggling against the Queen. 

“You’ve gone too far!” your mother admonished the Queen as tears burned her eyes. She pushed against Alicent, and she jerked against her, trying to get to your brother.

“I?” Queen Alicent exclaimed, voice thick with anguish as you attempted to push out of your grandfather’s arms, kicking your legs into his side. “What have I done, but what was expected of me? Forever upholding the kingdom, the family, and the law while you flout to do as you please?”

“Alicent, let her go!”

The Queen still poised the dagger to strike, its new path being that of the heir to the Iron Throne as your mother looked helplessly to the onlookers. No one made to separate the two as they all stared in shock, the fire illuminating their faces like wraiths of death. Landing a hard smack to Lord Corlys’s neck, he dropped you as you shoved through the onlookers toward your mother. She put her life for yours and your brothers, but who would put hers before theirs? 

“Where is duty? Where is sacrifice? My happiness and dreams? It’s templed under your pretty foot again!” the Queen sobbed, her form trembling with hurt and rage, everything that she bottled inside her for years. 

“Release the blade, Alicent,” Lord Otto commanded, a man you hadn’t met until this morn, but she paid him no mind, adrenaline coursing through her veins as she pushed against her old friend. 

“Wasn’t taking her, my only light, enough for you? And now you take my son’s eye, and to that, you feel entitled,” she confessed, tears making the Queen’s mouth thick with wetness as you shouldered your way to the inner circle of people. 

“Exhausting, wasn’t it? Hiding beneath the cloak of your own righteousness,” your mother interrogated, a bitter grimace on her sharp lips. “But now they see you as you are.”

Alicent stared at your mother with an enraged offense that wrinkled her brows as she felt fire surge through her, and with a loud cry, she unthinkingly swung your family’s ancestral dagger. You screamed, running to your mother as you pulled her back, seeing a gash on her inner arm that gushed with blood. 

“Mama,” you wept, tenderly holding her limb as if it would break. 

Dropping the dagger, Alicent took an instinctual step toward you, a blanched, horror-stricken expression across her round face. She longed to go to you, to dry your tears and stroke your head against her bosom like your true mother would, but she could not. The terror and fear in your wide brown eyes that resembled her own sliced through her chest and laid her heart and soul bare as she felt a small hand slide into hers. The Queen hoped to see you standing beside her and thought herself mad before she securely took her son’s fist.

Much like you, Aemond knew his parent needed him. “Do not mourn me, mother. ‘Twas a fair exchange,” he expressed with a maturity beyond his years. He turned to you, a violet gaze once filled with joy now devoid, hollow, and one less eye. “I may have lost an eye but gained a dragon.”

You wished Aemond hadn’t claimed one this way and felt a hiccup wrack your lungs as you cried into your mother, Jace, and Luke coming beside you. You sadly realized this was the end of the fleeting companionship you cultivated with your uncle. All the stolen moments of reading, ideas, philosophies, and aspirations you shared under the cover of privacy were nothing more than air the moment he ran across the dunes. You would have still cared for him without a dragon, as before, but his pride wouldn’t allow it, and now he stared at you with an eye that you knew far too well. 

Aemond hated you. He loathed you and your brothers with a fire that would never cease. This was your fault. He lost an eye because of you—because he cared about his bastard niece and had the foolish dream of becoming the man you loved. You did not deserve it. You were nothing more than a common girl born from sin, undeserving of your station. He would despise you for the rest of his days no matter how his heart screamed to have you by his side when darkness fell and all that was left was the ghost of your touch. 

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Happiness never lasts in ASOIAF. I'm going to miss writing for baby Aemond and reader. They were so cute! From now on it's going to be messed up young adults with severe mommy uses and mental illness. I'm not going to say who has which XD. Thank y'all so much for reading and I hope to see y'all in the next chapter!

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[keilanana]

𝑻𝒐 𝑫𝒆𝒇𝒚 𝑭𝒂𝒕𝒆

ᴏ. ʀᴇɪɴᴄᴀʀɴᴀᴛɪᴏɴ ɪs ᴀ ᴛʜɪɴɢ, ᴀᴘᴘᴀʀᴇɴᴛʟʏ

You find out reincarnation actually exists the hard way and sort of maybe go through the five stages of grief?

Your death comes to you in the most embarrassing way on your thirteenth birthday.

On your way home from school, you had decided to take the long route and found yourself walking across the edge of a bridge, arms held out to help you keep balance and your mind somewhere far away.

Unfortunately for you, though, your far away thoughts cost you your focus, so you failed to remember that it had rained last night, and the bridge was still wet from the storm's assault in result.

All in all, your realization came too late in the form of you slipping and falling into dark, deep, rushing water that sung with triumph when your form fell into its embrace and sunk into its depths.

Death didn't last long, luckily enough, but that was only because you somehow opened your eyes just after closing them in acceptance of your inevitable end.

Needless to say, when you woke up—expecting either the gates of Heaven, the fiery pits of Hell, or perhaps nothing—to find yourself staring up into the eyes of two women you had never seen before in your life, you were pretty confused.

One of the women, who just so happened to be holding you, for some reason, had [S/t] skin, long, [H/c] hair, and fox-like [E/c] eyes that stared down at you with such pure adoration, you nearly did a double take to see if maybe your eyes weren't working as well as they used to due to, you know ... dying.

The other woman was quick to take your focus from the other one, though, and that was probably because of the fact that she had horns and goat ears??

Maybe you were right about your eye sight, after all. It clearly must've had something wrong with it now, if you were starting to see people with horns and goat ears.

"[Y/n] ..." The whisper of your name makes you return your attention to the woman holding you, and she smiles down at you, emitting a sort of warmth that had you snuggling closer to her before you could even think of stopping yourself. The action seems to please her, because her smile grows and she pulls you closer, placing a kiss atop your head.

You hear the other woman chuckle, the noise fond and just as warm as the presence of the one holding you, and then watch her from the corner of your eye as she draws closer and slips her arm beneath you, wanting to cradle you as well.

"Welcome to our world, little one," you hear her say, and with their combined warmth, you can only keep your eyes open for so long before exhaustion consumes you once again.

(In the back of your mind, the horned woman's words echo; "Welcome to our world"—something meant only to be a greeting to the new being they've brought to life, yet despite this, you can't help but feel as though it also alludes to something deeper.

But for now, sleep comes first, and you promise yourself that you'll only feel semi-disappointed when you wake up and learn this was all only a dream.)

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

You're going to lose your shit.

It was not a dream. This is not a dream.

You end up balling your eyes out for hours. The two women you had thought to be mere figments of your imagination (your new parents, apparently) panic throughout the entire ordeal and do everything they can to get you to stop, but for as bad as you feel for making them worry, you just can't stop because you were dead you were supposed to be dead how is this even possible—

The only peace they get is when you're asleep, but even then, those moments can only last for so long before the nightmares—the memories have your eyes shooting open to fill with tears in seconds, and then the cycle starts all over again.

Your parents (no they're not they can't be yours and you can't be theirs oh god do they even know what's happened to you back home what happened to your body) are, understandably, very concerned. Since coming home, you've done nothing but cry and cry and cry, and nothing they do can get you to stop. They've already tried taking you to the doctor, believing for a horrifying moment that you must have been painfully ill, but the appointment only ended with the man—eyes filled with sympathy for the couple—telling them that you're actually perfectly healthy.

"I'm sorry, but I'm afraid that there isn't anything that I can do to help you," he'd said, your cries just as loud as ever and making the [E/c]-eyed woman holding you—Penelope Ophelia—gather you up from where you were sitting on her lap to rock you gently in her arms in a desperate attempt to soothe you.

"Really?" Penelope's lover, the woman the horns (that the doctor doesn't seem to notice, mind you), sent the doctor a pained, frustrated look. "Nothing at all?" she asked.

He only shook his and apologized again.

You don't know how long it's been, nor do you care. All you know is that you were dead, and then you weren't, and now all you've ever known most likely doesn't matter, because who knows if you'll ever see it again?

But then one day, as if your world couldn't be turned upside down anymore than it already has, you manage to catch Penelope's loud gasp above your crying, and then—

"Willow! I think I know why [Y/n]'s been crying!" she says, suddenly rushing over to you and lifting you up for a closer look at your head. "They have horns coming in!"

You hear someone—Willow, obviously—spit their drink out from the other room, and the shock you feel at Penelope's words turns out to be all it takes for you to finally stop crying.

'Horns'? Did you hear that right?

Clearly taking your stunned silence as a sign for whatever reason, Penelope begins to coo at you and bring you close to caress your head and kiss it, and—Oh. Oh.

You can feel them: the horns, small bumps on your head (for now), everytime Penelope's delicate hands brush over them. The movements are gentle and careful, obviously out of fear of accidentally hurting you and setting your constant crying off once more, and your mind is so caught up trying to piece together an explanation for—for all of this—that you don't even notice Willow coming into the room, a bright grin on her face as she takes in the small nubs growing from your crown and says:

"Would you look at that?" She laughs and takes you from Penelop's grasp to hold you up in the air like that monkey from The Lion King did. "Looks like I win the bet after all! Ay, little satyr?"

Willow laughs again when she sees her wife playfully roll her eyes, and you—for the first time since you've been brought to their home—remain silent while your entire world crumbles around you.

Satyr?

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

The Percy Jackson series was a gift to you from your grandparents on your eleventh birthday, and you've been obsessed with it ever since.

When you found yourself sighing over the boring, mundane life you lived, you would open the books and get lost in the world of Camp Half-Blood: imagining yourself as a camper, wondering who your Godly parent would be, and grinning at the idea of getting to befriend the main cast and join them on their adventures. While you were stuck inside doing homework, Percy and his friends were out fighting monsters and meeting Gods, and a part of you—the part that always longed for something more—would wish you could reach out and join them.

And now here you were, in a world clearly not like your own, and one of your new mother's is apparently a satyr.

(You are, too, but you're not really ready to process that just yet.)

It wasn't possible—it couldn't be possible. It's not like satyrs were only relevant in Percy Jackson, after all; there are plenty of stories out there that included the mythological race! You couldn't have possibly just so happened to get reborn into the world of the book series you've adored for two years! It just—it wouldn't make sense! Clearly, one of your new guardians being a satyr was a mere coincidence. Nothing more, nothing less.

"Chiron wrote to me, recently," sighs Willow as she plops down onto the couch Penelope had decided to read a book to you on. "Looks like the camp's satyr situation is a lot more serious than I thought, if he's sending me letters and asking me to help out again."

You choke on your own spit and have Penelope frantically patting your back before the woman can even respond to what her wife just revealed.

Then, when that whole ordeal's finished, Penelope lays you down in your crib after her and Willow take turns kissing your forehead, and now you're left alone to stare up at the canopy painted to the ceiling, losing yourself to your thoughts.

This ... isn't a dream. Yeah, that's been pretty obvious for a while now, but the assurance made your shoulders feel a little lighter. This isn't a dream and ... it's a lot.

You ... What should you do? You don't know how you got here, and you honestly doubt that there's a way out, so ... Again, what should you do?

Taking a deep breath, you close your eyes and decide, for now, to just go over what you do know:

1. You've been reborn (no duh, but sometimes you just have to repeat that to yourself to properly get it through your head).

2. Your 'parents' are two women by the name of Penelope and Willow Ophelia. Willow is a satyr, and Penelope (as far as you know) is a human.

3. Again, you've been reborn, and into the world of Percy Jackson of all places.

The bigger, more logical part of you kind of wants to start crying again. Out of literally anyone in the world—your world—why was this happening to you? Everyone you've ever known, all you've ever known, are suddenly gone, and all because you decided you wanted to walk along the edge of a stupid, slippery bridge.

It's just ... so frustrating. You were never perfect, you never wanted to be perfect, but you liked to think you were a good person, at least. What could you have done to deserve this? Who could have thought you deserved this?!

Yet, still, for as badly as you want to freak out (to cry, scream, break something) you can't deny that there's a small part of you—the part of you that always knew, even if you didn't want to fully admit it to yourself, that you could never conform to what society expected from you, that wanted nothing more than to just jump into the pages of your beloved books and live out the rest of your days in Camp Half-Blood, fighting monsters and challenging Gods—that feels just a little bit ... giddy about this. Because for as much your old family tried, for as much as they loved you, they just couldn't understand why you were the way you were; couldn't make you feel seen in the way Percy, Annabeth, Nico, and all of the other demigods did.

And, Gods, that was just the biggest part of it, wasn't it?

Even after everything they'd gone through—the ignorance of adults not willing to understand, the apathy of other kids who thought lesser of those not like them, the loneliness and confusion because you didn't know what was wrong with you—they had still found a place to belong. Found people to belong to. And ... and ...

And you wanted that. More than anything in the world, back then.

But this was not your world anymore. This was theirs.

And now that you've thought about it, you realize that there's one more thing you can add to the list of 'Things I Know':

4. You've been reborn into the world of Percy Jackson, and you've already read a step-by-step guide on how to live in it.

(That morning, when Willow comes into your room to bring you down for breakfast, her forest green eyes swell with tears.

Your smile was just as beautiful as her and Penelope knew it'd be.)

Next Chapter ->

[cameronspecial]

I Will Love It, Rafe

Pairing: Frat!Rafe Cameron x Reader

Warnings:  N/A

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 0.7K

Summary: Rafe wants to make their house a home for Y/N.

Masterlist

Being married to Rafe is the most amazing stage of Y/N’s life. She didn’t think he could’ve gotten more loving and attentive, but he did. When they moved into their house in the Outer Banks, he did the whole carrying her across the threshold thing and his husbandly duties didn’t stop there. He helped in every possible way to bring their house together and create their home. He gave his input on the paint colour, couch swatches, what style of furniture he wanted and anything else she would ask him. Even going as far as buying a few decorations he sees in the store and thinks she would like. Every time he would meet her with the same adorable nervousness of her not liking it, which she would always reassure him she does like it. This house is really starting to feel like theirs. 

Rafe knows Y/N has been dreaming of a built-in bookshelf in the room that is going to be their office and Rafe is dying to make that happen for her. Sarah took Y/N out for the day under the pretense of showing his wife the island that is now her home. This allows him to work on his project for her. He enlisted the help of Sarah’s pogue friends because he knew he wasn’t the most masterful with his building. He isn’t their biggest fan, but he can put their differences aside for the sake of Y/N. 

“We just have to nail the last top face frame rail and then we are ready to paint,” Rafe confirms with the others. Pope nods, “Yeah. Although, she won’t be able to put anything on it until after twenty-four hours, so I don’t know if you want to wait to show her.” “I think I’m too anxious to wait. I need to know what she thinks right away. What if she doesn’t like it?” Rafe frets, not seeing that he is holding the wood up crooked. JJ hits the back of his head, “Snap out of it. You aren’t holding it straight.” Rafe fixes his hold on the wood so that JJ can nail it into place. John B is the one to reassure his, hopefully, far-future brother-in-law. “Don’t worry, Dude. You said that she’s been showing you pictures of these bookshelves, so you know what she wants. Plus, she’ll just be touched by the gesture even if it isn’t exactly what she wants,” John B promises, slapping the husband’s back. “Thanks,” Rafe whispers. 

———

The big reveal is quickly approaching and Rafe feels the sweat on his palms. He wipes it off on the towel in his hand. The front door opens and he swears as he realizes he won’t have enough time to get cleaned up. He runs to greet the girls and is met by a questioning look from his wife. She sets the bags in her hand down, “What’s with the paint?” “Uhh, I’ve been working on a project for you, but I’m not sure I want you to see it,” he confesses, walking over to pick up the bags and kiss her. She returns the kiss, “Why don’t you want me to see it?” “Because I don’t think you will like it. So I’m going to have to take it down and pay a professional to make a better one,” he explains. He pulls out his phone to call the pogues back to take down what they had built not even twenty minutes ago. 

Y/N takes his phone out of his hand and makes him look at her. “You don’t have to do that. Just show me what you did. I’m sure I will love it, Rafe,” she comforts him, placing her hand in his. He lets out a breath and takes her upstairs to their office. He opens the door to reveal the labour of his day. Her eyes set on the bookshelves and she lets out a squeal. Her arms wrap around his neck. She kisses him on the cheek, “Rafe, I love it. This is incredible. Thank you so much. You are really making this place our home.” He gives her a kiss of his own with a massive grin. “You’re welcome, Angel. I would do anything to make you feel comfortable. I want you to love this space as much as I love you.” 

Taglist: @winterrrnight @loves0phelia

[avatarkv]

IV ! Mom, am I still young? Can I dream for a few months more?

✎ Synopsis ! You've been thrusted to carry the burden of the eldest after his passing. ( First | Second | Third | Fourth | Fifth )

Content & warning Jake sully x Daughter!Reader, Sully kids x Sister!Reader Neytiri x Daughter!Reader. Mentions of death and violence! (wc; 4070)

Song: Class of 2013, Mitski.

A mother’s love is of all things.  

“You start from here,” Her gentle hands moved across the cloth as she showed you how to make the first stitch, her voice encouraging as she patiently talked you through every step. You listened to her instructions, your tiny fingers following every gesture, but your mind drifted off to somewhere and Neytiri was well aware of that. 

"Mama, how much longer will this take?" You whined, your lips pursed in a pout as you discarded the rag. It was taking far too long for your liking and you were more than ready to be finished, but your mother's stern gaze was enough to stay put.

“Until you finally get it.” She sighed, knowing well that you wanted nothing but to run to your father and Neteyam. Neytiri could see clearly that you wanted nothing more than to train with them, learning all that Jake had to teach, and while she was relieved that you were so eager, she couldn't help but feel a little left behind.

You furrowed your brow as you looked down at the mangled fabric in front of you, feeling frustration coursing through your veins. "I don't like sewing," You sighed quietly to yourself, trying to undo the mess of stitches and start again from scratch.

A mother’s love could be quite petulant. Neytiri could feel the insecurity settling at the pits of her stomach, thinking about how his mate was doing a much better job at parenting. She was never able to keep you in one place, always wriggling uneasily on your chair and asking for the time so you can go, so she was often left with no other choice than to give into your demands and watch as you ran away from her.

It was silly, you were just a child– what child wouldn't want to be outside where the world was theirs to explore?

With another sigh, Neytiri placed a hand to your shoulder in understandment. She gave you a gentle squeeze,  “You know where your father is, go on.” 

A mother’s love could be fiery– burning brightly like a wildfire in her heart. It was a force that drove her to do anything she could to ensure the wellbeing of her children, even if it meant making difficult decisions that brought pain to herself.

When you once came home, battered and bruised, of course she did not relent. 

“What was the only thing I asked?” She carefully tended to your wounds, despite the frustrated tears streaming down your face. With a sigh of exhaustion, she reminded you in a rough whisper, “To be careful!” 

“I don’t let you run off with your father and Neteyam for you to carelessly train yourself,” She continued to scold you, “Now look at you, do you know how long these bruises will heal?” you hung your head low in shame, not wanting to meet her angry gaze. You felt guilty for making her worry and were immediately overcome with remorse.

“For this, you are not allowed to train for two weeks,” She said sternly, “Not until these heal, you understand?”

“But mama,” You tried to change her mind, but the look she gave was enough to let you know that she wasn’t going to tolerate any argument on the matter. You begrudgingly nodded your head in agreement with a frown. 

“I love you, ma’ite,” When you didn’t reply, her heart sank a little. She knew you would resent her for this while the duration of your punishment stretches on, but she was only looking out for you– besides, there was no way she was going to let you train all sore. You’d understand when you’re older. 

Neytiri would do anything if it means everyone would be safe. 

A mother’s love is of all things, but above all, the love she had rooted from no other else but her own children. 

When you once came forward with a present, she was curious. It wasn’t like you didn’t lend any gifts at all, if anything, you were the most thoughtful with giving; always coming home with trinkets from your training, colorful beads from a lazy stroll, or even rocks with the weirdest of shapes. But you were most excited with this one, a smile growing every second as you waited for Neytiri to grab the wrapped box. 

“What is this?” She had her eyebrow quirked up high in curiosity, a tiny smile fighting to stay suppressed.

“Open it, come on!” You squealed, trying hard not to open it yourself. 

“You made this?” She said, looking at the well-made shawl– actually, it was messy. The stitches weren’t as straight and there were holes larger than the others, a few smaller, but the ornaments sewn between the threads were no doubt from you. To her, it was the most beautiful thing ever; it was from you. 

“I did!” You beamed, chest puffing out proudly, “Well.. maybe I cheated a little. Grandmother helped me, but all the beads there are from me! See those?” You excitedly gestured to each and every trinket, going with great detail into how and where you got them. She asked questions along the way, marveling at how eager you were to tell her of your adventures. 

While you were keen on your work, her eyes were only on you, listening intently. 

“So.. do you like it?” 

Neytiri burst into a fit of giggles as she embraced you tightly, her head resting against the little space on your neck. “I love it, Ma’ite– I love you.” she whispered softly.

You returned the hug, “Does this mean I’m done with sewing?”

“Don’t push it.” 

It didn’t matter whether you were with Jake most of the time– she wanted to tell him how wrong he was to tell her you were a daddy’s girl. Neytiri received a shawl from you– a shawl. It’s safe to say that maybe you loved her a bit more than Jake. 

While her love was indescribable, there were no exact words for her anguish too. When Neteyam died, it was nothing but loss. No mother should have to bury their child. It weighed heavily on her– so heavy, a piece of her died along with him. Neytiri felt it in every pore of her being, a dull ache that could never be filled no matter how much time passed. 

Neteyam, her first born and first loss. 

The same anguish was apparent on you too and she wasn’t blind to that fact. 

You were carefully tending to the different herbs on the corner of your pod. You placed them in the mortar, crushing it with a pestle between your fingers and frowning with concentration. You had asked Neytiri if you could stay behind and help with chores and while she did need an extra pair of hands, it was also an excuse to get out from training for the day.

Neytiri knelt beside you, her grip on your hand preventing you from mashing the already mashed ingredients in the bowl. She looked into your eyes with genuine concern, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of your head. “What’s troubling you, ma’ite?” She asked softly. You sighed heavily in response while setting the bowl down slowly.

When you didn't answer, she asked again. “Neteyam?” Your breathing hitched and that was all the answer she needed. 

“It’s been over a month already,” You started, unable to look at her, “I don’t wanna mourn anymore. I don’t wanna cry– Tuk, she,” 

“I know. I heard.” You were struck with a wave of embarrassment as you abruptly turn to face her, realizing now that you weren't as silent as you had wished that night. You shook your head, trying to push down the shame. 

“I’m the eldest now and she’s tougher than me, it’s really a slap on the face.” 

Neytiri sits in front of you, taking both your hands in her own. She looks at you steadily with a piercing and gentle gaze, “Have you ever thought that maybe the reason why it isn’t letting you rest is because you haven’t mourned him properly?” Unable to process her words, you look up to her with a confused expression, beckoning her to continue. “All you have ever done is cry– blame yourself for what has happened. That is not mourning, you are simply wallowing in self-pity.” 

“It’s not easy,” You quickly interject, shaking your head with a hint of frustration.  

“And it’s not supposed to, but you’re here trying to stop yourself from feeling.” She soothes the skin of your hands with gentle rubs, trying to calm you down. “Have you ever visited him after what had happened?” 

She was met with only silence and again, it was all the answer she needed. With a heavy sigh, Neytiri gently pulls you closer to her, “Ma’ite, maybe it’s time you talk to him. You aren’t letting his soul rest either,” She whispers, “You’re making him wait.” 

“I’m sorry.” You murmur, burying your head into your mother's arms. Despite feeling a little embarrassed by the sudden display of emotion, you can't deny the comfort it brings. Neytiri holds onto you tightly, as if she too needed this moment just as much as you did. 

After a few more minutes, she nudges you softly, “I’m going to get more herbs,” With another kiss to your temple, she squeezed your shoulders and stood up. 

Neytiri’s words hit you hard– she was right. You have never put an effort to visit your brother, let alone talk to him. The realization was like a punch in the gut; while you were trying so hard to put as much space between you, Neteyam remained waiting. 

You had to talk to him, had to tell him everything before your heart could hold no more. It didn’t matter if he was angry anymore, nor if he would have blamed you for what had happened. You missed your brother– missed him like a little kid.

You stood up, taking your woven satchel– but before you could take another step out the door, Jake enters with a disheveled Lo’ak behind; it was clear that he got into a fight, the bruises on his face and body was enough to tell. “What was the one thing I asked?” Jake asks, scanning the area to check if anyone had followed them, “The one thing!”

“Look, dad. Ao’nung was picking on Kiri,” Lo’ak defends himself, his shoulders slumped in defeat. “They called her a freak.” 

“And you! Where were you? Weren’t you supposed to be training?” His tone is harsh and demanding, cutting off any chance to interject. Jake turns to you, livid,  “I catch you over here slacking off while this knucklehead is giving them a passage to kick us off the island– Jesus Christ, you’re the eldest now!” 

“I’m sorry, sir, this is my fault.” You replied, unable to meet his gaze. “I should’ve been keeping an eye on everyone.”

“Damn right. I catch a break for one second– one second!” He continued to berate and you could only hang your head low. “You’re supposed to be like Neteyam, but ever since we got here, all you’ve done is disappoint me. You disappoint me, __.”

“But I wasn’t just slacking, I was helping with–” 

“I don’t wanna hear it.” He immediately turns back to Lo'ak. He badly wanted to come to your defense, but something about Jake's steely gaze made him think twice. His lips quiver as he struggles against the urge to speak, feeling frustrated. “Go apologize to Ao’nung.”

“It’s not fair, dad! They were–”

He quickly dismisses him like he did with you, “Go make peace. I don’t know how, just go.” 

Lo’ak was the first to move, his footsteps heavy as he walked out. Before you followed, you glanced one last time at Jake, trying to look for any trace of remorse in his eyes. All you found was the same stoic expression. With a sigh, you trudged behind your brother.

Once you both were far enough from your Marui, you quickly grabbed Lo’ak’s wrist, stopping him from walking further. “Stay here,” 

He gave you a perplexed look as you firmly held him, “I’m supposed to be making amends.”

“I’ll do it myself so for once, stay here and  just do nothing.” Your mind was clouded, absolutely heavy from your father’s words. With another frustrated sigh, you let go of him. “What were you thinking?” 

“What do you mean?” His tone was laced with a mixture of guilt and defiance, shoulders tense. 

“You know damn well, Lo’ak.” The laugh that erupted from your mouth is menacing– mean. You grabbed his shoulders and spun him, forcing him to look at you. “You didn’t have to do that.”

He quickly shrugs your grasp away, his gaze downcast. Lo’ak couldn’t bear to even glance at you, not when you’re looking at him like that. It was so unlike you to be angry, usually you were the most patient– understanding. Right now, your eyes held nothing but exhaustion and it was like you were a different person yourself, morphing into someone he terribly misses. 

God, he misses his brother. Now that he’s gone, things are a lot worse– he didn’t even know that it was possible to feel more alone. There was no one who’d put on an effort to cheer him up despite him royally fucking up, no one to mess with his hair, or to stand up for him. With Neteyam, he was sure he understood him so well– with Neteyam, he was still a child. Lo’ak swears he also died that night, heart buried along his back at home. His younger self has not stopped crying ever since, shouting at him, asking, “It’s our fault again, is it?”

“You would have done the same,” He tries to reply with the same fierceness, but his voice is breaking. “Maybe if you were there, you would have even thrown in a punch too–” 

You spun him again irritatedly, “But I’m not like you. It’s different here, you understand?” Your voice was getting louder– growing absolutely desperate with every word. “You aren’t thinking!” That stunned the both of you and you couldn’t help but feel a nauseating deja-vu the moment it left your mouth. It was familiar, oh so familiar it hurt.

“What has gotten into you?” Before he could wait for a reply, you had already stormed off, leaving him right in the open.

It wasn’t hard to find Ao’nung, being the olo’eyktan’s son made him stand out easily. They were at the shore and unlike Lo’ak, you could see how they’ve gotten the end of the punches more badly. You tried not to visibly wince at the huge deep-purple bruise forming on his face and the others littered all over his body– yikes. 

You knew he deserved this. Ao’nung wasn’t the kindest ever since you had seeked uturu so you couldn’t help but feel a sense of satisfaction. Despite this, he didn’t relent. 

 “I’ll forgive you once you are able to ride an Ilu,” he said, and his friends snickered from behind, “But you still can’t, right? What would father do if he hears that none of the Sullys’ had gone out to apologize.” 

You clench your fists, digging your nails into your palms as they continue to ridicule you; you wanted to retaliate with the same harshness Lo’ak had, but you knew you had to keep composure. Oh Great Mother, the urge was strong. “All I have to do is ride an Ilu?” 

“Don’t bother,.” He scoffed, harshly jabbing his fingers into your chest, “You’re funny if you think that I’ll ever save you again– it would be one less freak from the clan.” Everyone broke out into a fit of loud laughter, taking turns in mocking you. 

“Consider us forgiven then.” You said firmly, pushing past them and marching towards the sea. 

He called for you to stay back, but you couldn’t just stop now– not when you have already mounted your ilu. The salty ocean air filled your lungs as you surveyed the horizon, the waves crashed on the rocks and it was evident that the water was fiercer. It should’ve been enough sign for you to pocket your pride and relent.

As you made the bond, you embraced the creature, trying to steady your breathing. “Just this once, please? Please, please. Save me from embarrassment.” 

It was a foolish decision to act out of spite, especially after you had been trying for well over a month with no success. You knew there was little chance that this time would be any different, but the impulse drove you forward and you just couldn't let go. As the ilu surged ahead with reckless abandon, you held on more desperately than before.

You were struggling to keep the creature in check. The strong waves made it even more challenging to stay on top of the situation, but you pushed ahead determinedly with an iron grip that was sure to leave your hands sore. Suddenly, your hard work seemed to pay off as the ilu started slowing down under your control, enough that you could relax a little. 

As you emerged from the water, you couldn’t help the shout escaping your throat as the other’s stood ready near their own ilus. Whether the smirk from Ao’nung’s face was of disbelief or if he had been genuinely impressed didn’t matter to you, all you could feel was a surge of pride burning through your skin. You flipped him off, peppering your ilu with much deserved kisses. 

“Come on, let’s go further,” You talked to her, encouraging her to keep moving forward, where she replied with an eager yip. 

You were absolutely thrilled– it had been a grueling month and the anticipation was nearly too much to bear. The thought of finally riding an ilu was almost too exciting for words. Although you preferred the forest, you’d be a big fat liar if you denied the beauty of Awa’atlu. You’ve been dying to explore– you felt like a kid again.

As you continued to ride forward, with not a thought in mind, you would not have expected to be found so easily.

It was almost night time and everyone was getting ready for dinner inside. Jake waited at the entrance of the Marui, sharpening his dagger as he waited for you.  He glanced around impatiently as he tried to ignore the spiraling  uneasiness in his stomach. 

“It’s getting cold, ma Jake.” Neytiri called for him, rubbing his back soothingly. “Wait for her inside, she’s probably on her way home.” She had noticed how anxious he was growing as the sun started to set and the dark night began to creep closer. It was even more obvious when he hadn't moved from his spot in front for hours already, frown deepening. 

“I failed as a father, Neytiri,” His voice emerged from his throat, strained and raw. He had done all he could, but it seemed that his luck had truly run out.  Now that he faced the truth of his failures, he was filled with bitter regret and a deep sadness for what could have been– of what he had to lose. “I look at them and I feel like I’ve already lost everyone.” 

Neytiri kneeled beside him, curling her arms around him in a comforting embrace. “You only did what you thought was best,” she whispered softly.

“And yet, I managed to make things worse.”  

“Just talk to them, ma Jake,” She gave him a stern look, squeezing his shoulders, “It hasn’t been easy for them either.”

“I know that, but–” The crackling of the line made Jake wince, but he could make out his daughter's voice beneath the static from the other line, and the urgency in your voice made his body jolt– a familiar dread that brought him back to that fateful night when you desperately called out for Neteyam. 

“Can someone hear me?”

The searing heat was unbearable, even when you were surrounded by nothing but water, it scorched your skin the same. The village was rising from the ashes of an unforgiving fire, the island surrounded by familiar ships. Your eyes mirrored the flames that engulfed the area and you were unable to look away— unable to move.

Your fingers frantically felt for the device tucked on your ear, pressing on its button, hoping someone would answer– pride be damned, you even hope that it would be your father. 

He stood up, instinctively grabbing the gun from his side, “__? What’s wrong, baby girl? Talk to me.” 

“Dad, Sir, a village!” Your voice nearly drowned out, inaudible from the deafening sound of waves thrashing towards you and your ilu. You were holding onto her for dear life as the salty water stung at your eyes, blurring your vision, “A village is on fire!”

“What? Where are you?” 

Neytiri stood sharply beside him, her eyes wide with fear as she desperately tried to hear your voice from the intercom. “Jake, what’s happening? Where is she?”

“I don’t know– I don’t know! I rode my Ilu too far. Dad, there are ships! Sky-people ships, plenty!” You spoke rapidly, your words tumbling out of your mouth faster and faster as the panic built up inside of you. You were becoming increasingly anxious, with every passing second more fearful than the last. “They’re here sir, they found us.” 

Jake’s heart plummeted there and then. 

“They’re hurting them– they have them at gunpoint, what do I do?” You continued to hurriedly talk, explaining the severity of the situation. It was nauseatingly terrifying, a sickening sensation that had taken root in his stomach and clouded his mind with nothing but overwhelming fear. “I– I have to do something, anything! Please, tell me what to do.”

“Listen to me, listen to Sempu alright?” His voice is gravelly, like he hasn't been able to catch a breath in what feels like days. Jake was desperate as he wanted to tell you this wasn’t about you proving yourself anymore, acting on behalf of your brother’s loss. This was solely about him wanting his sweet daughter back, safe and sound. “Don’t look at them, for the love of– please, get out of there now.” 

“But dad, I–”

“I need you back here, please baby girl, please.” 

However, you and him did not stand on the same ground, hearts paced on different pages. All you saw were the people; their safety and well-being had to come first and foremost. You had to save them, had to do something to avert the danger. They were innocent and above all, helpless. 

To Jake, all he could think was of you, his sweet daughter, caught in a wildfire. 

“This is an order, __. Turn back now,” It was the only thing he could do, instill authority in hopes it would make you deter. “I’ll alert Tonowari of the situation. It’s not a good idea to barge into face-first and vulnerable, you hear me? What are you gonna do with all their guns and people? Turn back. Now.” 

And it worked. Only now were you able to let out the breath you kept for so long, finally averting your gaze and looking down in shame. “I hear you, sir, I’m,” With one last look, you gulped. “I’m heading back.” 

“Good. Don’t let them see you.” 

As you reconnected with the Ilu, you pleaded it to take the lead and guide them both back home. You could feel her emotions racing through your veins, her fear undeniable as she witnessed others of her kind slaughtered mercilessly by the shoreline. The bond between you was overwhelming and unsteady, so much that it almost took all your energy just to keep yourself from dissociating from her.

Before you could submerge below the safety of the waters again, your ilu begins to bellow loudly in distress. Its body thrashes around, making it hard for you to hold on. “Mawey, mawey!”

More static could be heard from Jake’s intercom, the noise turning more and more deafening. He tried to make out anything from the sound, but all he could hear was white noise. You called out for him one last time, before the pager turned off.

“Jake, please, where’s my daughter?” 

When Neytiri lost her eldest, she didn’t think she’d lose another one so soon.

☆ mauve here! this was such a pain in the ass to finish, so hopefully i did this chapter justice !!!! i would love to interact w everyone here, so please don't hesitate to drop by my asks! i also accept requests <3 i would very much appreciate it. lots of love!

Tags: @eywas-heir @aonungsmate @cappsikle @dearstell @minkyungseokie @wwwellacom @aleracrovn @fangzyz @bobojojoba69 @alohastitch0626 @gcldtom @dumb-fawkin-bitch @navs-bhat @jo1818 @ladylovegood-69 @kahlowy @neteyamforlife @mochiivqi @heart-an0n @strnqer @abbersreads @historygeekqueen

© avatarkv, do not repost.

[imababblekat]

Scars That Bind

**WARNINGS**: implied ptsd, scarring, angst (but w/ happy ending)

~~~~~~~~

@httpvomitello ,"Hi Hi, how are you? So I was wondering if you could do a one shot with Donnie x f! reader who is his girlfriend. It would be after the event of the second film, where she helps with the fight and everything. However, she ends up with a big scar on her back, but she never got around to revealing it to the others because she was ashamed to show it, and because of that, in those weeks she almost didn't let Donnie touch her, whether it was a hug or a kiss. Until one day, he accidentally sees the scar, and after her explanation, he comforts her and things get better.

A/N: oh boy this is much longer than i had planned it to be! hope y'all still enjoy though! im just gonna go cry in a corner after having written this ╮(T▽T)╭

~xXx~

It had been weeks, and yet the events of the Kraang attacks still effected you. Effected your life. It hadn't been as often as early on, but you still had nightmares. Still awoke sweaty and fearful from a nightmare that played out way differently and more devastating than how the real battle had ended victoriously. Well, mostly victoriously. Yes, the four ninja brothers you had helped and fought alongside went home with some new scars that they would no doubt proudly brandish, but the one you took home made you feel anything but proud. Anything but strong like how the turtles felt about theirs.

The large, healed but still freshly ugly wound across your middle back would be a forever reminder of how things could have gone terribly wrong for you that day. You were lucky to make it out alive in the end, but you had not only been physically scarred, but mentally as well.

What if you hadn't made it out of that slippery situation? What if it had happened and then Donnie, your everything, wouldn't have even known, to busy off fighting the big bad boss? How could you leave him, leave everyone, so suddenly in your foolishness to be more than what you were? A fragile human, trying to be a hero like her mutated boyfriend who had been training to fight his entire life?

The near death experience left you thinking and imaging the worst nearly every waking moment, and it seemed to effect more than just your lonesome. It had started to effect your relationship with Donnie. You can't remember the first moment it happened, but you remember every other time you had rejected his touches. The poor man couldn't get a kiss from you, much less a hug, and he had no idea why. The hurt in his eyes always tugged at your heart strings, but not as much as if he were to find out about the permanent alteration to your body.

If he found out, he would surely blame himself for not being there to protect you. Something you wanted him to not do. He along with his super brothers had more pressing things to be worried about, not a single human when they had the whole of New York on their shoulders. Your horrific dreams of death had also instilled in you that very great possibility of just how much danger you truly were in being with them. Yes, it was something that you had all known. April, Casey, and even Vern were just as in likely danger simply by being friends with the turtles, but no one really realizes the weight of something till it comes crashing down on them. Like it had to you.

If one day something happened to you, you didn't want to leave behind a deeply heartbroken and changed Donnie. Making distance would surely make such a casualty easier to deal with if there was nothing no longer there right?

Right?

You chocked on a sob, eyes screwed shut with clasped hands against your reddened face. The staggered cry quietly echoed off your bathroom walls, the only other sound being the slight slush of water in the tub you had planned to get into before you had caught a glance of the cursed marking on your back in the mirror. Now, you sat on the edge, trying your best to reason with your recent actions, but your heart and subconscious knew the truth and would not let you get away so easily.

Images of Donnie's hurt face only a couple hours ago still projected freshly in your mind. The pain in his eyes when you stepped back from his open embrace and rejected his goodbye kiss before you departed for home. You've seen the genius sad before, but never had you seen him so dejected. Knowing that you were the cause, hurt even more.

"But it's for his own good.", you sobbed aloud.

Than why did it feel so wrong?

Suddenly, something had fumbled and hit the tiled floor loudly, causing you to nearly jump out of your skin as you swiftly turned on the edge of the tub to see the last person you wanted to in this exact moment.

There, standing in the entrance straight as a pillar and eyes so wide they might pop out of his head, was Donatello. He had come to return back your phone, that of which he had called deciding it was finally time to talk about your standoff behavior towards him when it rang from the lair lounge. Now though, a call to work out the reason was no longer warranted, the off color patch of new skin and flesh on your back still crystal clear in his mind.

"I. . .", Donnie faltered, one usually a dictionary of speech, now speechless.

You on the other hand, were much more reactive. Your heart picking up pace, as you were quick to grab your towel and wrap it around, stepping out of your forgotten bath and racing to get out of this situation.

"I-I wondered if I had forgotten that, thanks Don, you can go-"

You had tried and failed to push your way past Donnie after swiftly grabbing your phone off the bathroom floor, but the turtle in purple was much faster and had grabbed hold of your arm just as you entered the hallway.

"How. . .how long have you. . .", Donnie swallowed, still struggling to find the words.

You felt your heart drop in your chest seeing the agony in Donnie's knowledgeable gaze.

"Donnie, please. . .", you mutter barely above a whisper, lip beginning to quiver.

"When you said you went to the hospital to check on a friend, did you really go for yourself?", he questioned, brows furrowed as he looked down at you, but you were careful to avoid his gaze.

You tried to pull your arm from his grasp, but Donnie held firm. He wasn't letting you go this time.

"(Y,n), please, I'm just trying to understand."

"There is nothing to understand.", you gritted out, angry with yourself for the tears that threatened to spill once again.

"How could you say that? You have a-"

"I know!", you finally snapped, glare flashing up towards Donatello.

Said turtle was stunned, but soon relaxed his expression, slowly letting go of your arm to take a step back. You cursed yourself internally, looking back to your hallway's carpet and holding yourself tight. A moment of tense silence befell the both of you, neither speaking and both refusing to look at the other. Your heart ached, and so did his, but it was not you who apologized first.

With a tight throat, Donnie was first to speak quietly.

"I'm sorry. . ."

"Don't say that.", you thought to yourself, another stinging pang shooting straight through your chest. Fighting back the urge to cry, you shook your head, chancing a glance at your slumped boyfriend.

"No. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have yelled. It's just. . ."

Donnie looked up just as you looked down the hall, but your gaze was else where. It was a look he was all to familiar with, one he'd seen after terrifying incidents he and his brothers had experienced.

"Is that why you've been so distant?"

By that, you knew Donatello meant your scar.

The reference broke you, nodding as you started to sob and weep, new tears making new streaks down your face. Donnie muttered a quiet 'oh', opening his arms as you quickly crossed the short distance to fall against his plastron. The moment his strong arms wrapped around you, your heart had exploded, cries racking your body as you sobbed loudly, not caring if the neighbors heard. It had been so long since you had embraced each other, since you had been this close to the person you fell so deeply in love with, that the sensation of Donnie holding you felt as though you had finally returned home after an arduous journey across rough seas.

The entire time you cried Donnie stood cradling you, rubbing your arms softly and murmuring quiet whispers of "its okay" and "let it out" against the top of your messy hair. Neither of you knew how much time had passed, Donnie undoubtedly willing to hold you up if your legs no longer could, but soon you had calmed, only letting out shaking breaths and a few soft sobs here and there. Once you felt you had regained enough strength you gingerly used Donnie's strong plastron as leverage to push your self back, just enough to still remain close but also peer up into his worried gaze.

"I'm sorry Donnie. I never wanted to hurt you. I was so scared about how something happening to me would effect you, when I've been causing you that pain this entire time. I'm so, so sorry Donnie.", you choked out, feeling as though you were ripping off a band-aid and at the same time having heavy weights lifted from your shoulders.

"Oh, (y,n).," Donnie muttered, reaching up to move a strand of hair from your sticky, tear stained face. "I only wish I had realized sooner what you were going through. You shouldn't have faced this alone. I should have been there to help."

You bit your bottom lip, shaking your head slowly.

"No Donnie, that's exactly part of why I acted the way I did. I don't want you to blame yourself for what happened."

Donnie's grip on you tightened, a pit forming in his chest. That scar. It grabbed him by the throat and had him in a choke hold the second he stepped into your bathroom. When had you gotten it during the Kraang attack? Were you alone the whole time? How did you get such a wound?

Donatello had to be quick to stop his thoughts before they spiraled into picturing unsavory images of just how exactly you had been hurt. He hated it, this revelation that something seriously bad had happened to the person he loved and he wasn't there to do anything about it. If he'd lost you, he'd surely would have lost himself.

Leaning forward with tightly shut eyes, holding back his own tears for your sake, Donnie's lips pressed firmly to your forehead before slowly pulling back. His beautiful gold eyes found yours, a comforting smile gracing his features as you tiredly peered back at him inquisitively.

"Sorry, dove. I can't say that I won't, but I promise I'll try to as long as you promise me something."

"Anything, Donnie."

"Promise me that you'll always remember I'm here for you. That you can come to me about anything, and to please let me help fight your battles with you, just as you so bravely have done for me."

Your lips formed into a smile, the first genuine one in who knows how long. Your head fell against Donnie's strong chest once more, your arms squeezing him this time and feeling your soul being filled with a warm, positive feeling for once as the tallest ninja turtle returned your embrace with just as much love.

"I promise.", you spoke just above where Donnie's heart lay protected by plastron, the feeling of another gentle, loving kiss being placed against the top of your hair.

~xXx~

[totaly-obsessed]

Could you write for alessia where the reader gets badly injured during a match and alessia completely over reacts during trying to protect and look after reader

Hovering

Alessia Russo x reader Drabble & Request

-> Reader gets injured, Alessia loses it, and turns into a nurse

➳ Masterlist

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

Derby’s were always different matches than the usual – feistier, more brutal. There was a real passion behind it. And this game was no different. Arsenal against Tottenham, the north London derby. The training sessions were even more intense than usual, and the speech Leah gave in the changing room was terrifying. While the blonde couldn’t play, still out with her ACL, she was still a Gunner through and through – so she sat at the sidelines, shouting words of encouragement.

Standing in the tunnel you could feel the tension, it made you nervous. While most loved derby days, you didn’t – they were scary. Your lovely girlfriend knew it, trying to get you to sleep until three in the morning, whispering calming words into your ears as she rubbed your back in a soothing motion. Now, standing behind you, she rested her bigger hands on your shoulders – weighing your nervous body down.

The crowd was electric while walking in and through the entire first half where Less had scored a gorgeous goal – the halftime speech mainly consisted of encouraging words to further the lead by a goal or two. Everything was going fine until Arsenal was given a corner kick.

Steph was the one to take it – and now the only thing you remember was hearing Katie shout out a ‘you bitch!’ as you went down. Your entire face hurt as a metallic taste filled your mouth. Dazed you sat on the ground as everything escalated around you.

The medics were talking at you, pressing a towel against your nose, and lighting a lamp in your eyes as your conciseness started to fade.

It felt like a dream when you woke up in the medical room, surrounded by your teammates, who were quietly chatting amongst themselves. “Amore! You’re awake!” Your girlfriend sat up next to you, taking your hands into hers. Your eyes were hazy, the brightness of the room needing you to hold a hand in front of them. It was Kim who turned the light off, sitting directly in front of the switch for it.

“What happened?” Alessia nearly cooed at your croaky voice, feeling sorry for you. After looking at her a bit closer, you noticed tear streaks on her cheeks. With shaky hands, you reached out to wipe the new tears away, as she gave you a tight smile. “You jumped for the header, but got pushed into the goalpost by a Tottenham player.”

And just like that, the pain in your nose returned – as you went to touch it, Less caught your hands, taking them into hers once again. “Still made the goal though. And Russo got a red.” Kyra laughed as she remembered how your goal went in, going to hug you, just to see you lying on the ground, with a bloody nose and absent eyes.

With shocked eyes, you looked at your girlfriend, who looked way sheepishly. “W- What? Alessia?” Other than expected, the girls started cheering  - quickly stopping when their striker's angry gaze met theirs. Katie patted her on the back like a proud older sister, who had gotten her sibling into trouble. “Russo here can get feisty. Some nice yelling at the Ref, pushing players – Slapping a bitch…”

You nearly thought that you had misheard the Irishwoman. “You slapped someone?” The blonde knew that she really was in trouble now – so did everybody else as they quietly laughed. “Amore – she pushed you! You were bleeding a-and I couldn’t help myself so I- I…” She gave up, seeing your raised brow.

The team girls stayed for a while as a doctor came and explained your bruised nose, chipped tooth, and very annoying concussion.

Seeing your pain and Alessia’s longing eyes Kim decided to gather the team and go home, leaving the blonde on your bed at your side before she took you to your joined home again. “I was so scared, Amore.” Now it was your turn to coo, kissing her puffy cheeks, tasting the saltiness of her tears on your lips. “I know baby. But you didn’t need to get a red. I appreciate your protecting me very much, but it wasn’t needed.”

Alessia spent the rest of the evening hovering. Helping you in the bath, helping wash your hair, helping you get out, making dinner, helping you change, and helping you get ready for bed. And as much as you tried not to say anything, it felt suffocating.

“Alessia?” You were lying in bed by now, while Alessia ran through the room, trying to think of things to make your night better. “Hmm?”

“If you wake me up in the night – I’ll kill you.” Your girlfriend gulped nervously, hoping that you were joking.

After two hours of restless sleep, Alessia was still awake, she woke you up again. “I’m sorry Amore, but I need to check, you know that.” You did know that. But you were still annoyed.

Throughout the night she was met with various harsh responses to being woken up – but she handled them like a champ, knowing that you loved her – you were just tired and in pain.

Alessia couldn’t help but hover for the next days, having taken off from training as well.

While it was annoying, you wouldn’t change it for the world, enjoying your time together even if you weren’t feeling so well. the striker would never regret that red card, content to have you by her side, nursing you back to full health.

[romaritimeharbor]

I'LL SEE YOU WHEN I FALL ASLEEP. — The Tokito family's oldest child returns home.

— trigger & content warnings. contains spoilers for the infinity castle arc & takes place around/after the end of the manga, major character death, grief, self-hatred, survivor's guilt, etc.

— pairings & notes. hurt/comfort. kamado tanjiro, kamado nezuko & reader, but the fic is still muichiro-centric. reader is 16 and is gender neutral (they/them pronouns used). reader was a demon slayer. reader is muichiro and yuichiro's older sibling. 3.1k words.

— author's thoughts. suffer, manga readers :) anyways why are there so few platonic fics about mui and yui??? they are literally my sons. please. begging the kny community to write more platonic content about them sobs weeps cries /lh

       Morning sunlight kisses their skin tenderly, caressing their face with its reassuring touch, but it does nothing to soothe the dull ache in their chest.

       In the absence of all else, that dull ache perpetually remains—a constant, ringing reminder of their utter failures as a person. Of their failures as their family's oldest child. When they feel nothing, when all of their tears have run dry and left them with vacant emptiness, that dull ache remains still. When the tears fall endlessly, ever continuing regardless of how many times they try to dry their face, it remains still.

       Inconsolable, that is what they were. Wholly and truly inconsolable.

       'It wasn't your fault,' Tanjiro would insist over and over, because he knows not what other words he can say to them, because he knows what it is like. What else could he possibly say to ease their grief? He hasn't the slightest idea, because really... there is nothing. Nothing to say, nothing to do, other than sit beside them and let the grief come and go as it does—it is a nonlinear thing, grief. Tanjiro knows the process all too well. It will get better and then worse, before repeating the cycle again and again. He knows there is nothing he can do other than hold their hand throughout it all. There is no getting rid of the pain before it heals on its own time, so the words he chooses are 'You will feel okay one day.'

       'They wouldn't want you to linger on it,' Nezuko would say, but she also knew not what to tell them. She, much like her older brother, is not unfamiliar with the guilt they felt for simply being alive. She knows that feeling all too well. She does not recall much from her time as a demon—she has explained that those memories are more like a distant dream, something she cannot quite touch and can only catch brief glimpses of, rather than actual memories she can recall at will. Despite that, she knows it hurt when she discovered herself to be the only one who survived that day. It still hurts. Less, but it does. She knows not what to say to them, but she knows that time heals, so the words she chooses are 'You will feel okay one day.'

       Dew clings to the grass and leaves. The dirt squishes beneath their steps. A thin fog (a mist, they dare think, but the fleeting thought makes their stomach drop, so they do their best to rid their mind of it) has settled just above ground level, and they absently wonder if it rained the night before; it must have. They hadn't noticed.

       It would be borderline impossible to, with the night they had. Being perceptive of and attentive to minute details such as whether or not it had rained a few hours prior was not in the forefront of their dazed mind at the moment.

       (They did not sleep well, thoughts too preoccupied with the memories of what once was, of what could have still been.

       ...But the reality they dreamed of was not theirs, because they failed. They curse the world for plaguing them with such dreams—it was as if they were forced to peek into another universe, where they are happier now, helpless to snap their gaze away until whatever being tormenting them decided they had suffered enough. A punishment, that's what it was. A vile, awful, enraging punishment. Haven't they suffered enough?

       Though, maybe they should at least be happy for them in that alternate universe. At least they're happy somewhere.

       The thought is both comforting and devastating. Maybe if they hadn't been such a useless older sibling, they would be that joyful, too.)

       The trek up the mountain was not nearly long enough; they hardly had any time at all to gather their thoughts, to swallow back the growing lump in their throat, before a vacant home entered their vision. It has been vacant for quite some time now, but the sting of what happened there almost three years ago feels exceptionally fresh, knowing that the twin who survived that event was also long gone now. The slightly chilly breeze stirs around them, swirling a few green and brown leaves that their trees had begun to shed. It welcomes them home, brushing across their skin and causing goosebumps to raise, beckoning them closer.

       Fall will arrive soon.

       ...It has been some time since the nights have become safer to travel through. For the first time in thousands of years, demons were not a concern; the concerns now were more mundane. Animals, other humans, tripping over a tree root hidden by the darkness and getting wounded... yes, it has been quite some time since demons became a threat of the past. A few months, at the very least, but the pain of loss has grown no easier to bear. If anything, it has dug its vicious claws into their aching chest even further, threatening to tear open their ribcage and rip their bruised heart out at any moment.

       It wouldn't be anything they didn't deserve, if that were to happen. It would be better that way.

       ...Tanjiro would tell them off for thinking like that, in the nicest and gentlest words he could manage. Their brothers would, too. Though, they're relatively certain that both of their brothers would use much harsher words. The thought might've made them laugh under another circumstance.

       Even if they wanted everything to end already, they had no choice but to live, despite how much it pained them to do so. Maybe, just maybe, there will come a day in which living no longer feels like a knife to the chest.

       That's something to look forward to. The day when their heart will not stutter when they see this vacant house. The day where they will not think 'It should have been me.'

       Much to their surprise, there was no moss climbing up the headstones situated at the side of the house, and the grass was neatly tamed.

       Someone had been here recently, then.

       Sanemi? Giyuu? Perhaps Kanamori or Kotetsu. All options were equally likely; Sanemi, who they knew beyond a shadow of a doubt understood how they felt. Giyuu, who routinely paid respects to his fellow Hashira that fell in battle. Kanamori and Kotetsu, who may very well have died if not for their youngest brother's intervention back in the Swordsmith Village. They weren't quite sure who had been here (maybe they would ask around later, if for no other reason but to thank that person or those people), but... the gesture sent a wave of fresh tears to their eyes.

       They hesitate, frozen in place. Shaking hands rise to their chest, clasped together in a poor attempt to put an end the trembling, and they briefly consider leaving.

       It would be rude, though. To make the trek all the way up the mountain, to trick their beloved little brothers into thinking they were visiting, just to leave. They were never that cruel. Grief would not become their excuse for ignoring their brothers... or what was left of them, anyway.

       Ginko sits on their shoulder. She has grown quieter than the used to be, and they know the loss has also impacted her. Still, she isn't completely placated, and she grumbles, "Are you just going to stand here like an idiot?"

       "You've got working wings," they retort. "Go first, if you're so impatient."

       She huffs, batting her comedically long eyelashes as she turns her little head away from them petulantly. She does not leave their shoulder. Ginko has never been nice or pleasant—she was only ever nice to Muichiro, really. Everyone else, including them, would shown get her nastier side. Spoiled princess are the words they would use to describe her, personally... but she isn't heartless. She does not dare move forward before they do.

       (They know she isn't heartless. They still sometimes think about how weak and sick she became after the tragedy, and really, they were no better. She had slept by their side for weeks. Whether to keep them or herself company, they did not know, nor did they really care. She was their closest companion for the first few weeks, when they were too tired and absentminded to bother seeking anyone else out.

       What an odd situation to have been in, where their best company was the bratty crow that used to deliver their brother's mission assignments. It feels unreal to think about, but it is the truth.)

       Steeling their resolve, they move forward.

       In front of the four grave markers, they kneel, paying no mind to the wet dirt and cool grass sticking to their clothes. If anything, the cold is welcomed. Their flesh burns hot with the weight of their grief. The cold touch feels forgiving, welcoming. Ginko stretches her wings and delicately glides over to perch on top of her former master's headstone.

       Between the middle two stones sits their blade, sunk deep into the dirt, never to be touched again. Vines have begun ascending the half that still stuck out of the ground. It would be difficult to get it out, they think. Good. There it shall remain, never to be used again, a monument honoring their family and the sacrifices made to protect the world when the world never knew it was in danger in the first place.

       They sit like that in silence for a moment, a chill ascending their spine as the cool morning wind kissed the crown of their head and brushed through their hair.

       A moment passes. Then another.

       And finally, they manage something:

       "Hi," they say, voice coming out unsurprisingly meek and quiet. They're sure that if they tried to speak any louder, any clearer, their voice would crack and break. "Mama, papa, Yuichiro, Muichiro... I'm home. Again." It is at this point that their tone wavers somewhat. Their hands, now situated in their lap, immediately latch onto one another again in an attempt to steady themselves somehow. "Um, Tanjiro and Nezuko are here too. Or they will be. They just wanted to give me space first."

       Muichiro would be excited to see the two, they think. He always got along particularly well with Tanjiro, and Nezuko was the kind of child who had a very kind demeanor about her, so most people grew to like her even when she was a demon.

       They're hardly aware of the stinging in their eyes—it's a feeling they've grown very used to, as if it was their most natural state of being. It may as well have been. It's what they had become accustomed to feeling in the past months; it was either that, or a dreadful emptiness that made their entire body feel weightless, as if they barely existed. 

       It was always too little or too much.

       When would they be able to come here without crying?

       "I'm sorry," they choke out, folding in on themselves. Locks of their hair fall forward, forming a curtain around their face that hides their pitifully broken expression from prying eyes, and their forehead ever so slightly comes into contact with the damp dirt below. "I'm so— I'm so sorry," they weep, "I should have done more. It should— should be me buried, n— not you, not any of you—"

       There is a dagger stuck inches deep in their gut. It feels as if someone has twisted it, now, because as they speak through their cries, they remember that Muichiro was never buried. His body was never recovered. It only makes the hot tears stinging their cheeks pour out with more force.

       Buried in the spot the grave marked were only some of his personal belongings along with things he was known to like.

       There was nothing they could have possibly done to change what happened to their parents; it was just a stroke of terrible luck for the both of them that would not have been changed regardless of what they did differently, but in a hysterical state, there is no room for nuance. Grief blends together, and they can't think clearly enough to verbally distinguish between if they meant 'It should have been me' in reference the twins or for their parents.

       The answer was clear nonetheless. It hung in the air, ever present.

       It should have been them instead of Yuichiro that day.

       It should have been them instead of Muichiro that day.

       Would either of those outcomes have changed anything?

       If it had been them dying in Yuichiro's place, what would have happened that night in the Infinity Castle? Would both twins have died regardless, making their sacrifice utterly meaningless? Would only one have died, leaving the other to exist completely and entirely alone in the world? If they had died in Muichiro's place, would he be the one knelt before their grave, wishing it'd been him instead?

       How selfish of them to wish it had been them instead.

       How selfish of them to want their brothers to hurt like this instead of them.

       ...But they know that isn't what they're trying to imply. No, they would rather suffer this pain a million times over to spare their siblings the pain of having to feel it even once.

       What they wanted was to give even one of the twins a chance to live past twelve or fourteen; both died far too young, meanwhile they lived on. They had turned sixteen recently (or was it a while ago? They were uncertain; the days, weeks, and months had all blended together in a blur of agony). They had no choice but to keep living, to keep aging, when it should be their little brothers instead of them living on and growing up together.

       A soft hand on their shoulder causes their breath to hitch, and they adjust, peering upwards.

       Tanjiro is there now. 

       He's crouching down, fingers softly kneading their shoulder. When he sees that they're looking at them, his half-blind gaze softens, and he smiles.

       It makes their heart ache.

       "It's okay," he whispers, and they are suddenly hyper-aware of the gloss over his eyes. He must have heard them. 'Don't cry for me,' they want to say, but the words don't come out, and they know he would cry for them regardless of if they told him not to. "It's going to be okay one day."

       Ginko glares at him a bit. It's her least favorite rhetoric to hear—'It's okay.' She doesn't say anything, though. because he is not saying it to her, and if it comforts them even the slightest bit... well, she supposes she can tolerate it.

       A stifled whine manages to shove its way past their barely parted lips. They squeeze their eyes shut, hoping to stop the tears.

       It doesn't work, of course, and they can only break out into another sob.

       The boy's gaze is warm, too warm—it looks too much like their father's. 

       Tanjiro, ever the patient and kindly person that he was, sits there with them until their tears run dry. They want to cry more. They want to curl up into a ball and let the Earth take their body so that the pain would finally cease.

       They cannot, however. Their only choice is to sit up and continue forward, one day at a time.

       Straightening their spine, they sit up, turning fully to Tanjiro with tired eyes.

       "Do you feel better?"

       "No."

       He reaches out and squeezes one of their hands, face twisted in empathy. He doesn't seem to care about the dirt that has clung onto their palms. In silence, with only Tanjiro and Ginko at their side (more or less; the crow has yet to move from Muichiro's headstone, but her presence is enough for them), they sit.

       It's a few moments later that they register the sound of dirt squishing under someone's steps, and they turn their head.

       It's Nezuko. In her hands is a small basket.

       "I'm here," she says with a kind smile. She looks like her brother when she smiles like that, they think. Her gaze is just as warm as Tanjiro's is when her eyes land on them. "I brought rice balls and paper."

       ...Rice balls. She brought food.

       Nezuko was always adamant on pestering them about self-care in the first few weeks following Muichiro's death. 'He wouldn't want you to destroy yourself like this,' she had said at one point, a stern glare fixed on her face. 'Your brother being gone now is no excuse to neglect your health. Please eat, [Name], if not for him or for yourself, then for me. For Tanjiro. For everyone living who still loves you and worries about you.'

       Her tender, worried attentiveness almost makes them want to cry again, but they have no tears left to give

       On the rare occasion where they would not listen to her, she would get Sanemi, who would threaten to kick their ass if they didn't get themselves together. The threat of being beat up by the former Wind Hashira was usually enough to convince them, but they doubt that he ever would have actually done it—Shinazugawa Sanemi is many things. He is not a hypocrite when it comes to the matters of being the eldest sibling... not anymore, anyway. He was once, but he is not now. The grief he carries resonates deeply with theirs, and he was not taking particularly good care of himself, either.

       They should probably visit him one of these days. He might be in need of the company, though he would never say that out loud.

       "Paper?" they wonder quietly, hoarsely, head tilting to the side inquisitively. Neither sibling seems to mind the scratchiness of their voice. "

       Tanjiro's face then brightens. "Want to see who can throw a paper airplane the farthest out of the three of us?"

       Oh. Oh.

       "...I'm going to absolutely annihilate you both at that." Something stirs in their chest. For the first time in a while, the dullness fades somewhat, and there's a thrilling edge taking its place. Their eyes shift between the Kamado siblings. "I'm the one who taught Mui how to get so good at it. You don't stand a chance. You do realize that, right?"

       He grins. "We'll see!"

       For the first time in months, they feel something other than void emptiness or overwhelming grief.

       The wind rustles around them again, and they like to think that Muichiro is there, cheering them on from where they cannot see or hear him.

       ...But they do feel him, and that is enough for now.

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[theendisneat]

"I love you, I love you, I love you." [Dying in their arms]

Warings - Death, mentions of illness and injury, hurt/no comfort

Characters - Xiao, Childe, Kamisato Ayaka, Venti, Scaramouche/Wanderer

Word Count - 1410

Xiao

He held you in his arms. If he wasn’t so concerned with hurting you, even now when blood slid from your lips and down your throat, he would be crushing you against his chest. But his hands cradled your body tenderly, so softly he was practically hovering them around you, not wanting to taint your already dying body with his karma.

Tears gathered in his eyes, but he forced himself not to cry when you two made eye contact. He wanted to, archons he wanted to ball when he saw the light slowly dim from your pretty eyes, the eyes he was admiring not so long ago.

“Why?” He couldn’t help but whisper. “I could’ve protected myself.”

You opened your mouth, only for no sounds to come out on the first try. You swallowed harshly, the taste of blood making you want to vomit, but you didn’t even have the energy for that. “It was instinct.”

It was then Xiao finally let those tears fall. It was instinct? The instinct to protect him? You loved him that much? He hugged you closer, pressing his forehead against your own so he could hear your breaths, your shallow, dying breaths. You protected him, you loved him, and he loved you.

Slowly he kissed your cheek. “I love you.”

Your forehead. “I love you.”

Eyelids. “I love you. I love you.”

And finally, the lips that had taken their last breath. “I love you, so, so, much.”

Childe

Fighting beside you was a dream for him. Both of you engaged in the thrill of battle, taking out enemies side by side with equal grace and power. He loved it, loved seeing you in his domain, loved seeing you kickass. It put a smile on his face knowing his lover was like him, powerful.

But everything powerful eventually falls, and you did it for him. So caught up in the heat of the battle, a rush going throughout his whole body, he didn’t notice the one enemy that was creeping up behind to stab him through the heart, but you did.

You had pushed him out of the way, the sword piercing you like a hot knife through butter, right in the heart where Childe was meant to get hit. The sword was pulled back with a metallic whine as Childe saw red. He doesn’t remember what he did, or what was happening until his body hands were holding your head and pressing down on your heart.

He was mumbling reassurances, desperate pleas to stay by his side and do everything you’ve ever dreamed of doing. Hysterical nonsense was the only thing to be heard besides your quiet breaths and the drip of blood as it painted the field alongside the bodies of the other enemies.

You used the last of your strength to cradle his cheek, accidentally smearing your blood on his pale, flushed face, but neither of you cared. You mumbled out a returning ‘I love you’ as you body went limp and Childe screamed.

Kamisato Ayaka

You didn’t know the woman in front of you, but she obviously knew you with the way she flittered about your room. Was it your room? You couldn’t recall. The memories were hazy, and your limbs were heavy. 

Ayaka had never been more scared out of her mind when Thoma had dragged you home one day saying you had gotten in an altercation with the Tenryou Commision protecting an immigrant merchant and had lost your vision. You had been beaten, that was obvious enough, but what she was really worried about was the lack of vision, with only bad things to say about the condition of those who had lost theirs.

Ayaka was right in her worry as you began to deteriorate before her eyes. You stopped knowing how to get around the house, you lost recognition of some of the house’s staff members, you would wander around, eyes glazed and thoughts foggy. It was only about time when the memories of Thoma, and Ayato, and her started to fade.

You would lean away from her kisses, struggling to remember her name, and stayed in your room when moving became too difficult. Your body was going along with your mind, becoming a corpse right in front of your forgotten lover’s eyes.

When you took your last breath, you were too weak to lean away from Ayaka’s hands. They cupped your face gently, her delicate finger wiping away tears you didn’t know the origin of. The last thing you remember was the sound of her crying, her tears dripping on your face as she hovered over you, desperate to see some last spark in your eyes before they finally went out.

She whispered to your still body. Pleas of adoration for you to come back, to open your eyes and look at her with recognition and love once more, but you couldn’t, and she knew that, and it only made her cry harder.

Venti

Your head was in his lap, hair spread across his thighs haphazardly as he caressed your face with such gentleness it felt like a morning breeze. You could feel the pain anymore, the one that had traveled through your abdomen to your heart. It had been stabbing in tune with the beat of your heart, but now, laying here, it didn’t hurt so bad.

The feeling was leaving from your feet, limbs becoming numb. You tried to twitch your fingers to reach up to your beloved’s face. Tears had begun to slide down his cheeks, but a stoic, empty smile was on his face. Why was he crying?

“Are you alright, love?” You had no idea why it took so much effort simply to speak. Your mind had begun to fog, eyes, unknowing to you, had glazed over slightly, making you look like a doll.

“Yeah.” Venti murmured, trying to make his smile more joyful, but you could hear the lingering brokenness in his voice. “Everything’s alright darling.”

“Why’re you cryin’ then?” Venti heard the slurring of your voice and had to bite down a new wave of tears. He thumbed the skin under your eye, rubbing away any lasting tears of pain.

“I’m just so happy to see you again. You’ve been off on your adventures. It’s nice to see you back home ya know?”

Venti leaned down and kissed your forehead. “Why don’t you go to sleep darling? We can do something fun in the morning.”

“Okay.” You felt exhaustion settling in your bones, going limp entirely now. Black spots entered your vision as you felt your consciousness fade. “I love you.”

Venti let out a wet laugh. “I love you too.” And with one final kiss on the cheek, you were gone.

Scaramouche/Wanderer

“You can’t do this to me!” His grip was tight, almost too tight, but you had lost feeling in a lot of your body a long time ago and now a previously bruising grip became a comforting pressure. “You can’t fucking do this to me! Are you going to betray me too? HUH?!”

He couldn’t control himself as you simply sat there, wrapped in your blankets with a content smile on your face. You were leaving him. Didn’t you understand how much it would hurt, living everyday for the rest of eternity wishing you were there?

You had been sick your whole life. No doctor had ever lied to give you hope that you would live past twenty five and so you made the most of your time before you had to move on. Content with death since the moment of your birth, you strayed away from many relationships as they would benefit nobody but misery in the long run. 

But something about Scaramouche just pulled you in.

You gravitated towards him, and he to you. Caught in each other’s orbit you danced for however long you had left. Unfortunately, it just wasn’t enough time. Cradling Scaramouche’s cheeks with your weak hands, you swiped away the ugly tears that marred his beautiful face. Pulling him to your chest, you immediately felt his arms circle your waist.

He tucked his face to the crook of your neck as he cried, pleaded. “Please don’t leave me too. Please, please, please. I love you. I love you so fucking much.”

Scaramouche heard as your heart stopped beating, your chest staying still. Your arms fell limp from where they had wrapped around his shoulders in a loose hug.