#but no one has told me to do anything about it

[babyleostuff]

⸻ first date with hip hop unit

[ 🐚 ] where they would take their partner, what they would be like taking them out for the first time & what they would do to make them feel special

scoups

place: the aquarium

what they would do to make you feel special: is such an attentive listener and the way he keeps staring at you makes you blush so much (even if you usually don't blush, it's just the cheol effect) + at the end if the date you wonder if he paid even slight attention to the fish and whatnot (you could feel his stare on you for the whole time)

what they would be like taking you out: a shy mess, keeps ruffling his hair to occupy his hands with something (cuz he has to stop himself from grabbing your hand), the biggest gentleman out there

“oh, look at this one!” you pointed excitedly at one of the fishes that just swam by right in front of you. “it’s so pretty,” you cooed. 

you took a few steps to follow the small fish, forgetting that you weren’t there alone for a moment, too mesmerised to focus on anything else. it was nice to feel like a little kid once again, not having to worry about anything other than pretty fish and the shimmering blue and pink lights that made the whole place look like straight from a fairytale. 

“would it be corny if i said that you’re prettier?” suddenly, a deep voice pulled you out of your little bubble. 

“are you comparing me to a fish?” you fake-gasped and turned around, meeting seungcheol’s brown eyes that held a mischievous look that you grew to love so much, even though you hadn’t known each other for that long. 

his gentle laugh rippled through the air. “well, if you put it that way…”

you snickered and swatted his chest playfully. “i don’t think you’re supposed to say stuff like that on a first date, choi seungcheol.”

wonwoo

place: museum/ exhibition 

what they would do to make you feel special: takes candid photos of you (the morning after the date you get a message with the photos and a text saying “that’s how i see you” )

what they would be like taking you out: so so nervous, stutters, doesn’t know what to do with his hands, feels like he’s going to die at least five times

“click” 

you whipped your head around upon hearing the familiar sound, tearing your eyes from the painting after what felt like hours. but the exhibition wonwoo took you too was truly mesmerising, you had no idea how he found this place. 

“if you wanted to take a picture you could’ve told me,” you said, taking a step to the side. “i would’ve moved.” 

wonwoo lowered the camera, his hands slightly shaking, which in your eyes made him even more adorable than he already was. not to mention the fuzzy cardigan that made him look like the cuddliest teddy bear. 

“no, it’s… i wanted to take a photo of the painting and… and you,” he said with a gentle softness in his voice, blending in with the quiet hustle of people around you. 

“oh.”

mingyu

place: the funfair/ amusement park

what they would do to make you feel special: you know those games where you have to hit the targets to win the plushies or other stuffed animals? if you kept missing, gyu would miss as well, so you wouldn't feel like you were worse (he'd win once, though, because he'd really want to gift you a teddy bear)

what they would be like taking you out: tries his best to act cocky and smug but ends up tripping over his own feet, because he keeps staring at you too much

“i was so near, like one centimeter and i would’ve hit- oh my god, mingyu!” you exclaimed, stopping in your tracks. 

the man next to you landed on the ground with a thump, face first and all, for the third time in the span of the last two hours. 

“are you okay?” you gently placed the teddy bear your date had just gifted you on the ground, trying to keep it away from the dirt, and kneeled next to him. 

“this is really embarrassing,” he mumbled, leaning his forehead against the pavement. “i swear i’m not usually like this.” 

you shook your head, not really believing his words, because yes - maybe you didn’t know each other that well, but you’ve spent enough time together for you to know that kim mingyu was quite a clumsy person. 

“why do you keep tripping all the time?” you laughed, helping him up and brushing the dirt away. 

“you seriously don’t want to know,” mingyu answered, his face red as a tomato.

vernon

place: cinema + fast food place 

what they would do to make you feel special: buys you a small bouquet of your favourite flowers (you mentioned liking them once in passing)

what they would be like taking you out: not much changes in vernon's behaviour, completely chill and vibin' (mostly due to the fact that he's in such denial that you actually agreed to go out with him that he truly believes he's dreaming)

you stared at the small bouquet vernon was holding in his hands.

“uh, those aren’t your favorite right?” he asked when you didn’t say anything, and you didn’t fail to catch the note of disappointment in his voice. “i just probably messed up the names of the flowers. sorr-,” 

“how did you know these were my favourite?” 

“well,” he scratched the back of his neck awkwardly, “you said once and i remembered, and… yeah.” 

“i mentioned it like once,” you said, still too shaken that he remembered such a small thing to grab the flowers from his hand. “wait, aren’t you allergic to pollen? what are you doing holding a whole bouquet?” 

you took the bouquet and hid it behind your back. 

“it won’t kill me, you know?” vernon said with a smile on his face.

[sevikasbooyahh]

𝐒𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐤𝐚 𝐇𝐂'𝐬

Just random random headcannons about my wife <3

She makes lots of noises; grunts, sighs, groans. It’s basically a language that only you can understand at this point.

“Hmph,” she grunted with her usual grumpy expression. “You want cuddles?” She nods her head in response.

Snores but denies it. It’s like when you’re sharing a hotel room with your family and your dad’s snoring keeps you awake; staring at the ceiling. You’ve told her multiple times but she just doesn’t believe it.

“You kept me awake all night,” you said in disbelief as your utterly exhausted eyes met hers. “Uh-huh, how? Do NOT say because I was snoring.””You were snoring.”

But in all seriousness, she started sleeping on her side—the snoring was due to her sleeping on her back.

Doesn’t care for public affection, not that she won’t slip her arm around your waist or have her hand on your thigh once in a while—but it isn’t often.

(Saw someone else say this)—absolutely loves dad jokes. She won’t laugh at anything else but dad jokes.

“Hey babe,” you slid next to her on the couch. “Hm?””What days are the strongest?“ you asked. “I don’t know,” she shrugged. “Saturday and Sunday,” you started to smile. “Why?” She was slightly curious. “‘Cause the rest are weekdays,” she couldn’t even hold it before she burst out laughing.

Takes her mechanical arm off before she goes to bed because she doesn’t wanna hurt you.

Tough with everyone else but you, Jinx and Isha (they’re alive and well).

Isha made a cheerful noise as she raised her tea cup. Sevika sat across from her, hunched over the small table, teacup in hand. She pretended to drink from it, “Mm, nice.”

Perfers actions over words—for example, her version of an apology is by doing more of what she should’ve done in the past. If she wasn’t spending much time with you before, she’d immediately take it upon herself to fix her schedule.

VERY protective, especially when you’re at The Last Drop, nothing escapes her vision.

Once, this guy attempted to flirt with you but before he could get a word out, he was immediately met with a deadly glare from her. She pulled you closer towards her with a raised eyebrow, “You got something to say?” That sent him babbling in fear, “Uh-no, no, of course not!—“��Get out of my sight.”

Claims she’s not an animal person but will come home with a kitten she found on the street.

“It wouldn’t stop following me,” she said while avoiding eye contact with you. You knew she was lying.

Sometimes when she comes back from work she’ll just collapse on the couch. She’s a busy woman, alright?

Jinx cut her hair then made fun of her afterwards.

Jinx cackled after she looked at the final product, “Sweetcheeks ain’t gonna love you now, are they?” The older woman simply grumbled under breath, “You’re the one who cut it.””Yeah and I made it ugly on purpose.”

You ended up loving her hair anyway.

Secretly likes when you lay on top of her; loves seeing how comfortable you are

She’s always warm; your personal heater

Somehow gives the best hugs—bear hugs, but is so awkward with it

Takes the longest showers known to mankind; once she gets in, be prepared to wait about an hour. Meanwhile, half the time it’s just her staring at the wall.

Will let Isha climb her on rare occasions; sometimes the girl gets insanely hyper and is moving all over the place.

Says she’s “not fond of kids” but has a soft spot for them.

A little boy with blue-dyed hair walked up to her while she was outside one day. “H-hi, can you please sign this?” He asked in a soft-spoken manner, showing a drawing, offered with a crayon. She didn’t respond but took the paper and signed her name on the back. Internally, she was in disbelief that this boy looked up to her in some way. “Thank you!” He gave a big smile before running back to his group of friends, happily showing them the signature. A twitch edged at the end of her mouth.

[moonstruckme]

Pookie! I need you to write me something pretty please :)

Can you write Remus comforting a reader with an anxiety disorder when someone told them "there's nothing to be anxious about. You just want attention" ??? Pretty please?? Love you pookieeeeeee

Thanks for requesting!

cw: mean girl stuff, social anxiety

Remus Lupin x fem!reader ♡ 929 words

“Shh.” Remus holds you close to his chest, his hand moving up and down your arm now that your crying has slowed. “It’s okay. It’s just us, yeah?” 

“Yeah,” you echo, croakily. You’re glad you can’t see your boyfriend’s face, for fear you’d die of embarrassment otherwise. The looming insecurity of your day stands over you like a grim reaper. 

You arrived home from a friend’s birthday dinner to find Remus sitting on the couch, already marking the page of his book as he turned to you with a soft smile. 

“Hi, sweetheart. How was it?” 

You replied, through a laugh that turned into a sob halfway through, “Not great.” 

The dinner had been an event of foreboding for you since your invite. You’d been determined to be a good friend by not bailing, but actually going had confirmed your worst fears; it was loud, crowded, filled with people you didn’t know and didn’t fit with. Your outfit wasn’t right, the menu was daunting, and conversation swirled all around you about things you weren’t a part of. The fallout was basically inevitable. 

You perhaps waited too long to excuse yourself. You were sweating buckets and breathing around a lump by the time you did, whispering an explanation to your friend before locking yourself into a bathroom stall to talk yourself down. You’re sure she didn’t mean anything by telling the people sitting closest to her why you were gone—you don’t think she’d do it to gossip, and she’s never talked down to you about that sort of thing, at least not to your face—but by the time you returned one of her friends—a stranger to you, who’s name you can’t even remember—had formulated a fairly decisive opinion and dubbed you an attention seeker. 

You stayed only a little longer after that. Just long enough to avoid attracting more attention. And you worked yourself up well enough on the way home that all it took was one innocent question from Remus to send you crumpling into his arms. 

You’ve tried to steel yourself more than once, but any attempts at stoicism have been foiled by your boyfriend’s tender looks and whispered placations, which only make you cry harder. If you’re an attention seeker, Remus is your holy grail. Self loathing sits lodged in your throat like a stone. 

“Whose friend was it, again?” Remus asks, stroking your arm gently. 

You take a breath, trying to steady your voice. “Does it matter?” 

“I don’t mean it’s your friend’s fault, sweetheart,” Remus says. He’s all softness and patience, better than you could ever deserve. “I just thought you might talk to her, if you want to. She ought to know her friend is going around saying cruel things.” 

“She was there.” Your throat tightens at the memory. 

“Oh. Then I don’t suppose you need to say anything; I’m sure she’s already very upset for you.” 

You try to laugh, frustrated with yourself when it only seems to spur another wave of tears. “Rem. You’re biased.” 

“What?” Remus sounds genuinely surprised. “You don’t think she’s angry with that other girl?”

“She’s her friend.” 

“So are you.” His arms tighten around you protectively, chin bumping your head. “I may be biased, but the other girl was clearly in the wrong. There’s no excuse for the way she acted.” 

A dozen rebuttals fly about your head, but you keep your mouth shut. You don’t have the energy to argue. Unfortunately, Remus hears your argument in the silence anyway. 

“Sweetheart,” he says softly, “no one puts themselves through what you do for attention. You don’t choose to feel that way.”

You hunch your back, tucking your head underneath his chin. “I do get attention for it, though.” 

“That doesn’t mean you want it.” 

“But I—”

“Do you want it?” You can’t see Remus, but you hear the hardened edge to his tone. “Did you like it, when that girl called attention to you in the middle of the dinner?” 

Your voice smalls. “No.” 

“Right.” The gentleness returns. Remus puts his lips to your head. “I know you didn’t, dovey. So don’t torment yourself, please. She doesn’t know anything about you.” 

You push your lips together. He lets you chew on your next words for a while, his thumb swiping softly back and forth over your upper arm, the sleeve of your top shifting slightly with the motion. 

“What if…” You gnaw the inside of your cheek. Remus waits. “What if everyone thinks that?” 

“Mm. Well, for what it’s worth, I don’t think most people would. Surely not anyone who knows you, or anyone worth being around.” He takes a breath, thinking. “You can’t always control what people think. I know you say I’m biased, but anyone who thinks something like that really isn’t worth thinking about at all. You’ve got enough going through that head of yours, yeah?” He kisses your hair fondly. 

“I guess so,” you admit. 

“Yeah,” Remus decides. He pulls away to see your face, pushing hair away from your tacky cheeks. “I’d say so.” 

You wonder if you look as horrendously in love as you feel. You think you must, because your boyfriend’s expression softens impossibly further as he turns his head to give you a proper kiss. You feel raw but comforted, and suddenly, totally exhausted. 

“Let the bullies worry about themselves.” Remus gives you a tender look. “I’ll worry about you.” 

You let a small smile tilt your lips. “And what am I left to worry about?” 

“Nothing,” he says solemnly. “Think you can manage that?” 

“Nope.” 

“Mm. Well, try.” 

[enwoso]

YOU DID WHAT? | alessia russo x leah williamson

still part of the grumpy universe, just lovie’s not exactly in this. 🙃

grumpy universe masterlist

alessia sat on the edge of her couch, staring blankly at her phone. the house now quiet as you were tucked in bed, your soft snores barely audible through the walls.

alessia's heart was heavy with doubt as she re-read harrison's message for what felt like hundredth time.

(maybe) harrison | 'thank you for letting me spend time with her. i'll do my best to make it right.'

her thumbs hovered over the screen, debating whether to respond. how to response: a simple reaction to the message? a quick few word response? or just ignore it?

a part of her still reeled from the decision she had made — a decision which felt impossible to undo now.

a knock at the door startled her from her thoughts as she swiped off the chat with harrison, as she glanced at the clock: 8:30pm. it was leah.

she opened the door to find leah standing there, a bag filled with alessia's favourite snacks and an expression that immediately eased some of the blondes tension. but not all of it.

"i stopped on the way, got all your favourite snacks. you sounded like you could do with a few pick me ups when i called earlier" leah smiled, stepping inside.

"you have no idea," alessia replied with a faint smile, closing the door quietly behind her, the two not making too much noise in the hallway not wanting to wake you.

leah set the bag of food down on the kitchen counter, turning around to find the cupboard filled with small bowls — leah knowing the kitchen as if it was her own.

turning to face, alessia who was stood leant against the counter her eyebrows knitted together as leah took in her girlfriends tense expression. "all right, spill. what's happened?"

alessia hesitated, she hadn't told anyone of her thoughts and decision when it came to harrison all everyone knew was that he had been in contact. they didn't know that you had met your dad and spent the afternoon with him. 

alessia hesitated, her fingers tightening around the edge of the counter. "i- um." alessia paused, leah's look deepening before she continued, "lovie, she spent the afternoon with harrison"

leah blinked, her head tilting slightly to the side, "you did what? hang on, harrison? as in harrison, her dad harrison."

alessia nodded, avoiding her gaze, "alone?" leah asked as alessia immediately shook her head.

"no, i met him about a week ago see what his intentions were and then set up to meet him at the park and i took lovie with me and let him meet her there." alessia explained as leah looked on slight surprise in her face, "he is her dad. i thought it was the right thing to do"

leah stared at her for a moment, her shock evident, "so you met the boy who basically broke your heart and left you when you were pregnant to bring up a child when you were still young yourself and now, now he want to be in her life.. and for the record you said.. yes?”

“yeah” alessia admitted, her voice cracking as it filled with doubt. as leah looked at her pure confusion in her face, trying to wrap her mind around the whole situation. alessia had told her that harrison had been in touch but the blonde had never said anything else about it so leah thought alessia had just ignored him..

“why? and why now?”

“i don’t know, like i told you he messaged me out the blue. said he wanted to meet her and wanted to try and be in her life and lovie deserves to know her dad, doesn’t she?”

leah exhaled sharply, running a hand through her hair, “i get that, i do. i promise i do. but the way you told me he reacted back then..” she trailed off, shaking her head, “i just don’t want you, or tiny, getting hurt”

alessia’s chest tightened slightly, “you think i haven’t thought about that? about how he might just disappear again. but also what if he doesn’t? what if he really means it this time and he has changed?”

leah softened, stepping closer. “you’ve been the one holding everything together for the last four and a half years, less. you didn’t need him then and you definitely don’t need him now. but i know your doing this for tiny, and i’ll be here to support you if you need it but it’s okay to admit this scares you”

“it terrifies me,” alessia whispered, her voice trembling, “i don’t want to let him hurt her, but le she was so happy today and i don’t know what’s worse letting him in and risking it or keeping him out and not letting her have a relationship she might need.”

leah reached out, placing her hands on alessia’s hips, “you don’t need to figure it all out tonight. but whatever happens your not alone. you’ll always have me and so will tiny.”

alessia’s eyes welled with tears, “what would i do without you?”

leah smiled softly, “you’d survive but i’m here and i’m not going anywhere, i promise”

before alessia could respond, leah leaned in, kissing her with a gentleness that seemed to wash away her doubts even if it was only for a moment. the kiss was grounding, a silent promise that alessia wasn’t alone in this. when leah pulled back, she rested her forehead against alessia’s”

“i know this isn’t easy for you, to let someone into tinys life,” leah murmured, “but no matter what, we’ll figure it out, together.”

alessia nodded, her tears spilling over but her heart feeling just a little lighter, “together” she echoed. and for the first time that day, she felt like every could maybe be okay.

[angelfishe]

𝐒𝐐𝐔𝐈𝐃 𝐆𝐀𝐌𝐄 || 𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐍 𝐀𝐔

<< yandere VIP genshin men x reader >>

Character : zhongli, childe, ayato

When you enter the squid game to pay off your debt, you didn't realize your gonna be playing a life and death game as well meeting some old faces

Warning : slight mention of non-con intimacy

( This is something i wip out in the middle of the night sorry if it's bad )

# ZHONGLI

the owner of the liyue cooperation, a multi billion company

- You were married to him but got divorce because how possessive he was, he wouldn't let you go anywhere without body guards saying this world is dangerous. You will be better with him and you feel trapped inside the marriage so you eventually divorce him.

- the reason why you were in the squid game was because after the divorce you were staying with your mother who got herself in debt. So you take multiple jobs to pay off the debt, until a business man approaches you offering for you to play a game to pay off your debt.

- you manage to survive until the marble game where your partner decides to betray you, you thought you were gonna die until the soldiers of the game drag you into a luxurious room and In front of you was a man wearing a gold reindeer mask, he took it off revealing it's your ex husband

reader : "zho- zhongli"

Zhongli : " I told you my love, this world is a dangerous place and you would be safe with me, you don't need to worry about anything"

He proceeds to hug you

Zhongli : "I pay off your mother's debt as long as you promised you'll be mine again"

# CHILDE

A VIP that decided to play the game for fun

- you met him during the game the red light and green light game, you find it oddly weird that he seems to be enjoying it and as well having fun not bothering people are dropping dead.

- you manage to get along with him as well learning about his past and family, he seems to be fond of his little brother Teucer. He odly seems to recognize you ,Unfortunately he decided to sacrifice himself for you to live in the marble game.

- during lights out, you were dragged by the guards towards somewhere, you were struggling thinking you would die without saying goodbye towards your family, but instead you were put in a bedroom with a man in a red and black suit wearing a gold jaguar mask, saying if you want to leave the game you have to serve him in a way.

??? : "I'm surprised you don't recognize me and remember me"

Reader : who are you exactly

Childe : ( he took off the mask ) "it's me childe sweet heart, during childhood you and I were best friends and I promised you to marry you, don't worry sweetheart you don't have to worry about anything anymore cause after this let's fulfill the promised and get married"

#AYATO

Head of the most prestigious clan in the country as well the head of the yashiro prefecture

- former master of yours, you were his servant as well childhood friend but unfortunately stop serving his family because your grandfather has fallen with an Illness, you have to take care of him 24/7 meaning you to stop serving him. He tried everything to convince you not to leave but you still left.

- unfortunately the hospital bill has gotten worse and you eventually found yourself drowning in debt, until you were eventually invited into the squid game, unaware he planned this to happen, he's actually been stalking you looking for an opportunity to bring you back in his arms.

- you were Carried away by the guards when no one wants to partner with you, and you land yourself and kneel in front of a man with a gold owl mask. And he grabs your chin to look him straight to the eye and you recognize who's under the mask.

Reader : "master kamisato"

Ayato : "A clever girl manages to recognize me, that's my ( reader ) always able to recognize me"

Reader : why are you doing here

Ayato : "isn't't it obvious for you, I've been waiting for this moment for years and finally you're mine"

[hockeyboistrash]

operation get luke a girlfriend | l.h

summary: jack is tired of watching his brother pine over his best friend so he takes matters into his own hands to get you both to admit your feelings for each other. His plan, however, goes horribly wrong.

this idea popped into my and had to write it. I've never written for Luke so I hope I've done it justice. this one has been cooking for a while so I hope you enjoy. This is basically 4.2k words of best friends to lovers.

@star2fishmeg this one's for you 💖

You and Luke were best friends. You would do anything for each other. It could be after midnight but you would still pick Luke up after a roadie. Luke would ditch a game of Chel with his brothers if you were having a bad day, bringing you your favourite food and movies. Whenever asked about it the same three words would be spoken. ‘We’re just friends.’ No one was convinced though, especially Jack. Watching his younger brother pine after his best friend was painful to watch. He wanted nothing more than his brother to be happy. You brought him out of his shell. Luke was quite reserved around people unless you were his family so Jack and Quinn were surprised when he said more than two words to you the first time you met.

It didn’t faze Jack that Luke was dressed up to go to a party, only smirking at him as he got his stuff together. He saw the way your eyes lit up when Luke agreed to go to your party and how his brother bit his lip to try and hide his smile after you hugged him. It was obvious there was something more between the two of you and Jack hoped tonight one of you admits it. 

Luke wasn’t normally one for parties and he has a game tomorrow but when you invited him he couldn’t say no. The party playlist you curated was playing as he slipped into your apartment. It didn’t take long before he heard his name being called from across the room. “Luke! You came!” You shouted, flinging your arms around him while Luke wrapped his arms around your waist instinctively. 

“Of course I came. You asked me to come.” He mumbled, loud enough so only you could hear him. Luke was glad you couldn’t see his face, heat rising to his cheeks. 

“Well I appreciate it.” You told him, your lips tugging into a grin. “Let’s get you a drink.” You said, grabbing his hand and pulling him to the makeshift drinks table. Luke looked down at your intertwined fingers, liking the way it felt. He knew he shouldn’t though because you’re his best friend. Best friends aren’t supposed to miss the feeling of your hand in his when you let go. Luke missed the warmth of your hand in his cold one. He could shove them in his pocket to try and warm them up but he preferred the alternative, holding your hand. “Earth to Luke.” You waved your hand in front of his face, giggling as you brought him out of his inner spiral. 

“Yes. Sorry. Thank you.” Luke stuttered out. 

“Is everything okay?” You asked, eyebrows tugged into a slight frown, worried about him as he was a little distracted. 

“Everything's fine.” He told you, trying to cover up the fact he was thinking about holding your hand again. You weren't convinced though. You've known Luke for a couple of years now and you knew when he wasn't being entirely honest with you. You also know he likes to downplay everything. 

“I know it's easier said than done but you don't have to worry about tomorrow. You're going to defend like hell out there and win.” You said, giving his forearm a comforting squeeze. Luke loves your positivity. It's contagious and never fails to make him feel better. He knows that there's no way the team will win every game but you still tell him he will and he still goes onto the ice with a pep in his step. “Maybe you'll even score a goal.” You winked, your laugh was music to Luke's ears. He could kiss you right now. He wanted to kiss you but there's no way you felt the same about him so he buried those thoughts deep in his mind. He would rather bury his feelings than risk losing his best friend.

Your name was shouted from across the room before Luke could think of a witty comeback. You grabbed his hand and started dragging him with you. Luke’s eyes widened seeing the karaoke set up. “Not gonna happen.” Luke said, shaking his head vehemently. 

“Relax Luke, I wasn’t going to make you sing. I just- This is going to sound dumb.” You started, biting your lip slightly. “Basically I kinda agreed to sing one song on the karaoke machine with Maria but now I’m nervous and, I don’t know, I thought having you there would make it not as bad. It’s dumb I know.” You rambled. 

“It’s not dumb.” Luke mumbled. He was taken aback by your admission. You were one of the most confident people he knew. “I’ll be standing right here, cheering you on.” 

You grinned, thanking him before going over to your friend. She handed you a microphone as the start of the song began playing. Your eyes twinkled as they found Luke in the small crowd of your friends that was gathering. To him, it felt like it was just the two of you in the room. He was so engrossed in your performance that he didn’t notice he wasn’t the only one watching you intently until someone nudged him, his drink spilling over his hand. “They’re amazing aren’t they?” They shouted over the music, gesturing to you at the front of the room. Luke couldn’t quite put his finger on it but there was something about this guy that made his skin crawl. He grunted in agreement hoping he got the hint that he wanted to be left alone until you came back over. He didn’t.

Luke didn’t even get a chance to greet you before the guy next to him did. He didn’t remember you mentioning anything about a new guy in your life. You told each other everything. Your new friends, any potential boyfriends or girlfriends, anything that is going on in your lifes so he was confused when you greeted him. “Luke this is Scott, Scott this is my friend Luke.” 

‘Friend’ That stung a little. Luke wasn’t sure why though because it was true, you are friends yet hearing you introduce him to some guy, who you may or may not be hooking up with, as a friend caused an unfamiliar feeling to bubble inside. 

“I’m gonna head out.” Luke mumbled, leaning down so only you could hear him. He wasn’t in the mood to third wheel which is what it felt like to him. Luke only knew you and your roommate at this party and only came for you. 

“Oh, okay. Let me walk you out.” You said trying to hide the disappointment in your tone. You made the short walk to the front door, handing Luke his coat. “Thank you again for coming. I know you have a game tomorrow so it means a lot that you came.” 

“Of course I came. You asked me to come.” Luke shrugged. He could add so much more, he wanted to in fact yet there was something holding him back, maybe it was the rational side of his brain that knew if he continued speaking it would change everything. He wanted to tell you that he knew coming would make you smile and he loves your smile. He wanted to tell you that he misses you when he’s gone, wanting to spend all the time he could with you. 

“Well, I’ll be there tomorrow night, front row wearing number forty-three.” You told him, your lips turned up into a smile. It was contagious causing Luke’s to do the same. He loved when you wore his jersey. 

“See you tomorrow.” Luke said, giving you a quick hug. You didn’t let go though, leaning up to give him a kiss on the cheek. 

“See you tomorrow, Luke.” You said, turning quickly to the door and heading back inside the party. 

Luke stayed frozen in the hall, staring ahead. He didn’t miss the way Scott was watching the two of you. He must have watched you kiss Luke. You kissed Luke. On the cheek. Something neither of you have done before. The most you have done was hug each other but never kissed. Luke was glad you went back inside so you couldn’t see the blush creeping onto his cheeks. 

Luke wasn’t exactly sure how he made it back to his and Jack’s apartment but he did. It was like he was on autopilot. Locking the door behind him. Slipping his shoes off and hanging his coat up. “Luke?! Is that you?! You’re back early.” Jack called from his spot on the couch where Luke left him earlier in the evening. 

“Y/N kissed me.” Was all Luke said before heading to his room leaving Jack shocked.

“What the fuck.” He mumbled, surprised at his brother's confession. Jack immediately rang Quinn to inform him of the revelation, ignoring the time difference.

“This better be good.” Quinn greeted, sighing at being interrupted and wondering why his brother is still up so late.

“Hello to you too.” Jack said, rolling his eyes. “Thought you’d want to know Y/N kissed Luke.”

“What?!” He shouted down the phone. “Are you sure? When? What?!” Quinn was lost for words. He knew his brother was madly in love with you and that you were madly in love back, anyone with eyes could see that except you two. Their mom also picked up on it. 

“I don’t know. He didn’t elaborate.” Jack said. “It’s time though.”

“Jack, don’t.” Quinn warned, knowing exactly what he was on about. This wasn’t the first time he brought it up but Quinn was insistent that they shouldn’t meddle in their brother’s love life. Jack was bored of waiting for either of you to make the first move and decided to take matters into his own hands.

“Too late. The plan has been made. Operation get Luke a girlfriend is a go.” Jack said, ignoring his brother's concern and hanging up on him. 

-x-

Jack had a plan. It wasn't a great plan and Nico told him that at any opportunity he could. All he could do was shake his head at his teammates' antics knowing that once Jack had an idea there was no way to stop him. 

“We need to somehow find out if Y/N is dating this Scott guy.” Jack said, his voice low in case his brother walked in. They had just finished practice and were sat in their stalls in various states of undress. Jesper and Dawson leant forward, hanging on every word. 

“We could just ask them? Aren't they coming to the game tonight?” Nico suggested while Jack gave him an incredulous look, like that was the craziest idea he's heard. 

“Or we could invite them round to the team party and ask them about how their life is?” Dawson piped up. 

“Yes! That's it!” Jack exclaimed, making Nico roll his eyes because that was basically his idea, just more straightforward. 

“Won't Luke ask Y/N to come?” Nico asked. 

“Nah he's freaking the fuck out that he's ruined their friendship or something.” Jack told them. He finally got it out of his brother what had happened last night. That you were talking to this guy, Scott, and then you kissed him when saying goodbye and then you haven't messaged him about the kiss. Luke was convinced it was the end of the friendship he knew and loved. “So we gotta give them a little push.”

Nico shook his head, getting up to go to the shower just as Luke was coming into the locker room. “This is a terrible idea.” He mumbled, wanting no part of it. 

-x-

Your eyes lit up when you saw Luke leaving the locker room, your lips tugged into a smile just as bright. The Devils had just won so you're not sure why your best friend didn't look his usual happy self after a win. His eyes landed on you, surprised you're here and wearing his jersey. He made his way over to you, his strides large so it didn't take long for him to stand in front of you. 

“You still came?” Luke said, struggling to hide the surprise in his tone. He could feel his finger twitch by his side, the urge to tuck the stray bit of hair behind your ear strong.

“Of course I came. Did you not want me to come?” You asked, worried that you overstepped. You looked down at your shoes, wanting to hide from his gaze. 

“No, no. I'm glad you came. I want you to be here. It's just- I didn't hear from you all day so I didn't know if you were still coming.” Luke stuttered out, hating that the thought of him not wanting you here crossed your mind. “I want you here, Y/N.” He reiterated, silently pleading for you to look at him again. 

“I'm sorry I didn't message you today. I had a little too much to drink after you left and then I didn't wake up until midday. I thought you'd be too busy at that point so I didn't want to bother you.” You admitted, looking back up at him. Luke wanted to tell you that he's never too busy for you. It was on the tip of his tongue but as always his brother has the best timing.

“Y/N!” Jack exclaimed the moment his eyes landed on you. 

“Hey Jack.” You smiled at the older boy. “Great game tonight.”

“Thanks Y/N.” He grinned, not realising he was interrupting something or not caring. “You're coming to the team meal, right?”

“Team meal?” You asked, eyebrows furrowed. You looked at Luke hoping for some clarification.

“I was going to tell you.” He told you, rubbing the back of his neck. “The team is having a little get together next weekend and you're invited if you want to come.” Luke could kill his brother right now. He was going to ask you himself but now he’s worried you're going to think he didn’t want you there. The rational side of him knows he's just overthinking however ever since the kiss his thoughts have been in overdrive.

“I'd love to come. As long as I'm not intruding.” You said, biting your lip slightly, a nervous habit of yours. You always felt a little weird going to team events, official or unofficial ones, as Luke’s plus one because you weren't dating. That fact you were very much aware of. 

“You're not intruding, Y/N. All the guys would love it if you came.” Jack assured you. “Besides, we need someone to keep this guy in check.” He teased earning an eye roll and a playful shove from Luke and a giggle from you. 

“Well I'll be there.” You confirmed. “Do you need me to bring anything?” 

“Oh, errm, I think Cap is sorting all that out so better ask him.” Luke told you, trying to get you to leave for a moment so he could curse his brother out.

“I'll go and do that.” You said, spotting Nico across the corridor. You gave Luke's hand a little squeeze and smiled at him. “I won't be a sec.”

Luke watched you go over to Nico and Dawson, waiting until you were out of an earshot before scowling at his brother. “Why on earth would you mention the dinner when you know I haven't asked them yet.” 

“Didn't know you actually were going to ask them.” Jack shrugged. He was trying to hide the amusement this situation gave him. 

“Well I was and now Y/N's going to think I don't want them there.” He hissed, keeping his voice low so you can't hear them. 

“They're not going to think that.” Jack told his brother even though he knew it was no use. Once Luke had something in his head it was hard to change his mind. “Y/N is in love with you! It's so obvious but you refuse to see it.”

“We're just friends.” Luke insisted, trying to convince himself more than Jack. 

“Friends don't do what Y/N does. Friends don't kiss.” He pointed out. Luke clenched his jaw, trying not to make a scene. That was the last thing he wanted right now. All he wanted was for Jack to shut up, to stop him giving him hope knowing it'd only bring him heartbreak. Luke couldn't handle your rejection. 

“I'm not interrupting am I?” You asked, your smile fell when your gaze landed on Luke. You rarely saw Luke angry. You knew he got angry on the ice but this was different. The last time you saw him like this, eyebrows furrowed and jaw clenched, was at a bar and some creep was hitting on you, not taking no for an answer. 

“Not at all.” Jack said, slightly shaking his head at his brother before walking away, leaving the tension hanging. Luke was about to follow but you grabbed his hand, stopping him in his tracks. 

“Is everything okay?” You asked, willing for Luke to look at you instead of staring ahead. 

“Everything's fine, Y/N.” He hoped you would let it go. The problem with being best friends though is you know when something is wrong. 

“Luke, you don't have to keep things from me. I know something is wrong.” You said, searching his face for any reaction, the silence killing you. “D-did I do something wrong? Please tell me if I did something wrong.” 

“I-I'm sorry.” He had to get out of there. It broke his heart being the cause of your hurt but he didn't want to make things worse. “Jack’s my ride and I-I have to go.” Luke stuttered out before walking away to join his brother. 

“Luke, wait.” You pleaded softly but it was no use. He was gone. You didn't want to cause a scene so you willed the tears that threatened to fall to wait until you got home. 

“You alright, Y/N?” Nico asked, making you jump slightly not realising there were people still in the corridor.

“I'm fine.” You said with a forced smile. Nico saw right through it but he didn't want to bring it up. What he was going to do is kill Jack. He knew it was a terrible idea to interfere with Luke’s love life and now he may have ruined their friendship. “I better go too. Got a lot of work to catch up on. Great game tonight though.” You rushed out before hurrying to your car, wanting to put as much space as possible between you and the arena. 

The moment you got home you made a beeline to your room, ignoring your roommates calls. You threw Luke’s jersey off, the material feeling uncomfortable on your skin. You were spiralling, pacing the room as your mind went over every little detail from the past couple of days. One minute you were discussing summer plans and inviting him round to your party and the next you're kissing him. That's when the realisation hit. 

“You're home early.” Your roommate said, leaning against the doorframe. “Thought you'd be hanging out with Luke tonight.”

“He probably doesn't wanna see me ever again.” You mumbled, face down on your bed. 

“Don't be ridiculous of course he does. You're his best friend.” She sighed, sitting on the edge of your bed. “What happened?” 

“I kissed him last night.” You admitted, biting your lips slightly feeling nervous under your roommate's gaze. “And now I've ruined everything.”

“What makes you say that?” She asked and you told her everything. From the way you felt brave enough to kiss him on the cheek goodbye to not hearing from him all day. Then you told her what had happened at the rink. She listened as you spilled every thought and feeling you had without judgement. She let you get everything off your chest before chiming in. “It sounds to me that Luke is being stupid. He’s so in love with you that it’s kinda sickening sometimes. I swear he’s permanently got heart eyes whenever he sees you. Just give him a little time, you know how in his head he can get.” You nodded, taking in her advice knowing she was right. 

-x-

You weren’t going to come to the team dinner. Even though Luke has apologised for what happened after the game and you were talking again something felt off between you. It was like there was an elephant in the room that neither of you were talking about. Jack had texted you, persuading you to still come and so did Dawson and some of the other guys. That’s why you were standing in front of the door, finding the motivation to knock on the door.

Nico was the first to greet you, answering the door when you finally knocked. He took your coat, hanging it up on the coat rack by the door while you walked down the hallway to the living room where you were met with a chorus of hello’s. 

“Damn, Y/N! Got a hot date after that we don’t know about.” Dawson called from the breakfast bar, a drink in each hand. You couldn’t help but look down at your outfit, feeling a little self conscious. You knew he didn’t mean it in a bad way but now you were worried what you were wearing was a bit much. Luke wanted to assure you it wasn’t too much, that you looked beautiful tonight. Well to him you always did. 

“Nope. No hot date.” You told him, your eyes not leaving Luke as if it was him you were telling. They followed him as he excused himself to the kitchen, not missing the way blush dusted his cheeks. You decided to join him in the kitchen, wanting your best friend back and the only way that would happen is by talking to him. “Hey.” You greeted, making Luke jump slightly.

“Hey.” It was soft, like he didn’t want to ruin the silence. Your eyes raked over him, taking in every detail in case this was the last time you saw him. From his curly hair, which you enjoy running your fingers through, to his hands, which you miss holding.

“Please tell me if I read the situation wrong. That you didn’t want me to kiss you goodbye.” You said, your directness surprising Luke a little. “Because right now I feel like I’ve ruined everything.” You waited for an answer, the silence killing you. Your eyes flickered over Luke’s face looking for any reaction, willing for him to respond, but nothing. 

You took that as your answer, leaving Luke alone in the kitchen and heading out of the front door, grabbing your coat on the way. You didn’t care if everyone saw what happened. At this rate you would never see the team again. You didn’t stick around long enough to hear their concerned questions or to see Luke realise what you were saying.

“Y/N, wait!” Luke called after you, running down the street in a t-shirt and jeans. Even after everything you were concerned he was going to catch a cold or something.

“Luke, what are you doing? Where’s your coat? You’re going to get ill.” You rushed out, fretting over him. He hadn’t even noticed he didn’t grab his coat. That was the last thing on his mind, the first being you.

“I don’t care. I had to catch up with you.” He told you, pulling you to the side so you weren’t in peoples' way. “I’m sorry.”

“Luke-” You sighed but he continued, wanting to get everything off his chest.

“Y/N, I’m sorry I’ve been a shit friend recently. I’ve just been so in my head about everything and that’s not an excuse but I’m sorry. If anyone’s ruined anything it’s me.” Luke rambled. “You kissed me but I thought you were going out with Scott so I tried to put distance between us which was very stupid of me because I realised I hate being apart from you. I liked that you kissed me though.”

“Y-you did?” You asked.

“Yes and I wish I could kiss you back this time.” Luke said, cupping your cheeks with his hands. They were cold but you didn’t mind. It felt natural, like they were where they belonged. “If you want me to, that is.” He added, not wanting to overstep. You didn’t trust your voice to reply to him, to tell him yes you wanted to kiss him. That you wanted him to do that for the longest time. You leaned up, brushing your lips against his, an invitation for him to kiss you. It was soft, Luke wanting to savour every bit of it. Your lips were sweet from your lip balm, a fact he would remember for a long time. “I love you, Y/N, and I’m so sorry I was too chicken to do anything about it too.”

“Well you weren’t the only one who was scared.” You assured him. “I love you too.” Luke couldn’t help but smile hearing those words come out of your mouth. You leaned up to kiss him again, his cold skin touching yours making you shiver. “Let’s head back and get you warmed up.” You said about to walk back to Nico’s apartment when Luke stopped you.

“Or we could just go back to mine.” He suggested, not wanting to go back to everyone just yet. 

“Fine but you’re having a warm shower. I can’t have your mom or your coach kill me because you got sick.” You told him. 

“But it’d be worth it though.” Luke grinned and he was right. It would be worth it because you are in love with your best friend.

[motsimages]

My mom studied a masters in human sexology when I was a toddler and she taught me a kind of sexual education nobody else had around me. She told me that masturbating was alright and when it should be done (not in public), she told me not to trust adults that were friends of the family just because ("better get on the bus than on a car with them if they offer a ride, just in case" and she explained why). Friends with whom they had a great relationship, friends who had taken care of us right. We had a book for children that explained lots of sex-related things: from how to take care of yourself, what homosexuality is, what AIDS and other STDs are, how to tell an adult someone is abusing you, how to know if they are abusing you... Because there were conversations that she didn't fully know how to have but knew it was important that we knew. She also was always asking me if I had another adult with whom I could complain about her (i.e.: some other adult I could trust) and she gave me ideas: "you can speak to your aunt, or to this one friend", people she knew I liked and hang out with often.

When I was 5, a teacher called her to tell her that I would be a difficult teenager to manage because I said vagina and penis. And my mom said "well, I am a nurse and those are the right names for those body parts, she will learn the other words here at school. Maybe it will be the other kids who will be difficult to manage". You'll be surprised to know that my classmates were having their first kiss and their first boyfriend/girlfriend at age 12, and I didn't even feel the hormonal kick until I was 14. I didn't have the curiosity for certain behaviours because I knew about them already, so I only started wanted them when my body started wanting them. When that happened, she insisted frequently "Never do anything you don't want to do". She once catched me watching porn on the tv and all she said is "I don't want you to watch this now because you won't understand it right, you are too young". She wasn't even mad or made me feel ashamed. She understood my curiosity.

We also had a book about religions and she was ok if I had wanted to become part of some religion. She talked to me, and to every other child and teenager she met in a way we could understand about very difficult topics including domestic violence or death. Both her and my dad looked for movies that portrayed certain topics under a certain light (I clearly remember that we watched "Chasing Amy" recorded in a VHS from the TV).

As an adult, I do not feel shame or guilt around my body or my behaviours, whether they are sexual or not. I have friends that, at age 40, are still struggling with their body image, their desires and their needs.

And even if sometimes it has been difficult to me to understand what was happening to me, I could tell if something wasn't right.

The thing about sexual education, as op mentioned in passing unawarely, is that human being are sexual being by their very nature, and so, all of our relationships are sexual, even when actual sex is not involved in them.

I think there’s an argument to be made that protecting the children from relatively tame shadows of adults concepts actually makes things worse for them.

Like nothing is worse for me as an adult than the entirely unwarranted and unwanted sense of fear or scandalization from perfectly common stuff. And I don’t blame some wonderful TV show for using the word “fuck” or showing a nipple. My responses to those things are entirely constructed and cultural, and those shows are often doing me a kindness by giving me a context in which to safely re-examine them and my relationship to them.

And I just think actually there were a lot more opportunities to have a well adjusted outlook on life for the kids whose parents just told them what fuck meant.

[etherealrin]

♡.ᐟ sanrio rings!

how proplayer!rin accidentally reveals his relationship with you to the public

warnings: none // wc: 929

notes: my first post ever, hi LOL. ooc rin perhaps? female reader (reffered to as rin's gf)

rin forgets he even has the plastic ring on. so when he gets interviewed post-match and the cameraman zooms in on his right hand, which currently grips the microphone, he's a little confused.

"mr. itoshi!" the reporter exclaims, "what an odd choice of jewelry! and on the ring finger too, are you perhaps engaged?"

what? engaged? rin plasters a frown on his face, ready to go off at the woman.

"i have no idea what y-" rin begins, but cuts himself off. oh shit, he thinks. of course, on his ring finger sat the stupid little kuromi ring he had gotten with you in shibuya last week. his mind races back to the memory, and he groans internally.

"rin, please! let's get matching ones!" you squealed as you dragged him towards the staggering rows of gachapons deep inside the city's neon lit streets. the whole shop was filled to the brim with machine after machine, and one in particular had caught your eye. it was one containing comically large rings of sanrio character faces, ranging from cinamoroll to my melody to kuromi. "fine, if that's really what you want to spend 400 yen on," he had sighed. he knew you would somehow rope him into wearing the diabolical little accesory. "i really hope we get my melody and kuromi! y'know it's basically canon that they like each other, right?" you told him, laughing. "i hope you know i'm not familiar with any of the sanrio lore," rin began. "but- if it's with you, it's not so bad…i guess." the last part was barely audible. you pushed him toward the white machine, with a little "you first!"

to his fortune (or now his misfortune, he figured) he did indeed manage to obtain the black kuromi ring you had wanted him to wear. his attention then shifted to you. you were crouched down over the machine, and, wait…why were you performing a summoning ritual? you had pulled up my melody pictures on your phone and waved it around like a mystic. "you're silly," rin deadpanned. "but it'll work, watch this!" you shot back. the tips of your finger grasped the small wheel of the gacha machine and you turned it slowly. an opaque pink ball dropped out of the prize slot. "i did it! see?" you said smugly, giving rin a pointed look. "now you have to put yours on, so we match!" rin sighed, but he slipped the ring onto his finger, choosing the exact same placement you had done for youself. the right ring finger? "hey- you do know what this means right?" he asked you, a faint rose tinting his cheeks. you giggled. "it's a promise! we're now engaged under the laws of sanrio!"

"so? what's the news?" the reporter inquires again. rin snaps back to the present, having temporarily forgotten he was in a post-match interview and on nationwide live television. oh, you must be watching too, he realizes. itoshi rin could only come up with one explanation now: the truth.

"i got it with my girlfriend the other day, she wanted to match," he says with all air of nonchalance that he can muster. "girlfriend? mr. itoshi, you're in a relationship?" the reporter almost drops her microphone out of shock. rin feels his cheeks heat up, and he wants to smack himself for blushing on live television at the mention of you. "yes. i have been in one for quite a while now," rin starts. "and she's the sweetest, most stunning girl in the entire universe. now if you're done asking me about my private life, do you have anything for the real game? or are we done here?" "o-oh, yes…" the reporter babbles on about something he had done in the match and rin wraps up the interview at light speed, wanting to leave and to see you immediately.

when rin finally knocks on the door to your third floor apartment (and notices the glittery sanrio stickers plastered onto it) you open it almost instantly, with a finger pointing at his face. "i saw your interview," you say, dragging him into your living room where he promptly sprawls out on the sofa, hiding his face in his hands. "i can't believe you forgot to take it off, it's been three days!" you laugh. "but…it was cute. really, thank you. i know how hard it must have been to tell the whole world about us," "it was worth it, for you," rin says softly. he's a bit embarrased now. yet he's running his fingers through your silky hair now, twisting and turning it, his lilting touch teasing your exposed shoulder and making you giggle as if being tickled. you notice the kuromi ring, still sitting on his ring finger as if it was the most rightful place for it to belong. he grabs your own right hand, lining your fingers side by side with his, grinning a little at the pink my melody on yours. "hmmm, i love you too, rin" you reply to the boy. he pulls you closer and inhales deeply, breathing in your nectarine-like sweet perfume. "you should come to my game next week in my jersey," he mentions suddenly. "i mean there's no point in going through the agony of having lukewarm people online trying to guess who my girl is, i want everyone to know its you." you can't help but smile up at rin. his azure eyes shine with something fragile and genuine, love. you give him a soft, small kiss, and he sighs contentedly. "i'd love to," you promise.

a/n: if you've made it this far i luv u, this is inspired by the sanrio rings i got with my friend haha

[vettelsvee]

YOU SHOULD'VE SEEN YOUR FACE | Sebastian Vettel

Sebastian Vettel x Pregnant Wife!Reader

SUMMARY: Seb's wife is pregnant, but she hasn't told him yet since she doesn't seem ready. However, after he almost crashed pretty badly during a Free Practice session, she can't help but tell him in not the best way possible ↳ REQUESTED BY ANON: Okay but can you imagine Sebs wife being pregnant but she has not told him yet. He does some dangerous and bold move on a drive and she gets mad and scared and just some fluff when he finds out :)

WORD COUNT: 1804

WARNINGS: Curse words, mentions of anxiety, overthinking about Formula 1 crashes (?), pregnancy, Ferrari Seb in general (if you know, you know)

TAGLIST: @hc-dutch @raavadakedavra @coffeedestroyingperson @evey-kuznetskova @bowielovesyou @chaoswithus @isotopemylove @iceman-kazansky @gwginnyweasley @formula1-motogpfan @herdetectivetheorist @myescapefromthislife @regalbanshee [in case you wanna be tagged just tell me so i can add you!]

VEE'S NOTES: Hi guys! Finally back to posting fics! This year I don't only want to write more, but also establish some kind of writing routine because I've been dealing with anxiety over Christmas for some personal problems family related and found out that I missed distressing with writing. Also, thank you so much for all the support you've been showing me lately! Appreciate it a lot since I wasn't feeling very comfortable with my writing. Let me know your thoughts on this one <3 ↳ MAKE YOUR REQUESTS | LET'S TALK! | JANUARY UPDATE CALENDAR

© VETTELSVEE (2025). please, do not steal, copy or translate my works. thanks for reading!

Despite being quite far from the pit lane, you could hear nothing but the deafening roar of the engines, the clatter of tools on Kimi's car, and the curses of the race engineers at the constant stunts Seb had decided to pull during the free practice session.  

Your husband's red car seemed not just to race but to fly around the track. FP2 had started barely twenty minutes ago, but Seb had already come within inches of crashing into the walls far too many times after going off track more often than you could count.  

You couldn't deny that you had loved watching Seb race ever since you met and you learned he was a driver in one of the most dangerous sports in the world. Today, however, luck was not on your side, and anxiety was consuming you. The nausea, uncontrollable on its own, felt even worse than usual. Not to mention, you felt on the verge of a panic attack.  

"Are you okay?"  

You turned at the sound of Riccardo Adami’s voice, Seb’s race engineer. The Italian removed one side of his headset and covered the microphone to ensure the driver wouldn’t hear anything.  

"Yes, yes, of course," you replied hastily, forcing a smile and suppressing the urge to gag as you felt it rising in your throat. "I’m just a bit more nervous than usual today, that’s all."  

"Seb knows what he’s doing. Don’t worry about that."  

You nodded, but as soon as Adami turned his attention back to his screen, you rolled your eyes and did the same.  

"You know, sometimes he thinks that he’s a cat and has seven lives," you muttered under your breath. "Someone should remind him he’s in an actual Formula 1 car, not in a simulator."  

"Don’t worry, I’ll remind him in the post-session briefing," the engineer joked, flashing a smile before immersing himself back into Vettel's driving.  

You didn’t pay him much attention. Once again, you were entirely engrossed in both your husband’s onboard camera and the telemetry, even though you didn’t understand much aside from the fact that he was setting purple sectors, which was undoubtedly a good sign.  

You didn’t know much about the inner workings of the cars, but after so many years with Seb, you knew that the faster his times were, the higher the risks became.  

You were also acutely aware that your husband was pushing himself too hard in those moments.  

You began to tremble slightly, fidgeting with your hands in an attempt to calm your anxiety, but it didn’t work. Instinctively, and trying not to draw much attention, you placed your hands on your belly and prayed that your child wouldn’t give you any scares like his father was giving you.  

"Sector two in purple as well, Seb!"  

Even though the garage erupted into cheers and applause, you remained motionless. Instead, you couldn’t take your eyes off the screen, which now showed your husband’s car in full view.  

Your panic peaked the moment Seb lost control of the rear of his car and went off the track. You swore that if it hadn’t been for the sudden braking, he would have ended up in the barriers with a wrecked car and himself heading to the medical center because the crash would have likely exceeded the G-force limits.  

When Seb didn’t respond immediately, your heart stopped.  

"I’m fine, I’m fine..." Seb finally said in a disappointed tone. "But I can’t say the same for the car. I think it’s more damaged than it looks."  

"Can you bring it back, Sebastian?" Riccardo asked in a tone that was a mix of irritation and disappointment.  

"Yeah, no problem. Coming back. Sorry, guys."  

Just as no one on the team said anything to you, you, who had forced yourself to sit down because your legs were trembling too much and you felt dizzy, also remained silent until your husband returned and got out of the car.  

Seb removed his helmet, revealing an expression that was hard to decipher. You stood up carefully and approached him, trying to keep your composure. Without giving him a chance to say anything, you grabbed his hand and led him toward his driver room, ignoring Britta's protests to talk after interviews were done.  

"It could have been worse, right?" 

Sebastian closed the door behind him and turned to face you. You stood there with your arms crossed, visibly upset. Your glare alone was enough to tell Seb he was seconds away from one of your infamous scoldings.  

The problem? He had no idea why. You had never acted so strangely over something as common as a collision during a race weekend.  

“What the hell is wrong with you?!” you exploded, your voice filled with frustration. “Fuck, Seb, can you explain what that was all about?!”  

“What do you mean, what was that? I was... racing, like I always do, babe,” he replied cautiously, still clueless about what he'd done wrong.  

You, however, didn’t know what was bothering you more: your husband’s calm demeanor or the sight of a few Ferrari team members peeking through the window to catch the drama unfolding between the two of you.  

“You were so close to slamming into a wall, Sebastian, that’s what happened!” you shot back, yanking the curtains shut and flipping off the nosy onlookers. “Are you out of your mind or what?!”  

“Come on, love, I had it under control. What you saw on the onboard might’ve looked bad, but I swear it wasn’t as dangerous as it seemed.”  

“Not as bad as it seemed? Are you seriously telling me that?” you retorted, your voice trembling with anger. “Do you think driving is just like playing a video game now? Do you have any idea what it would’ve meant if you hadn’t reacted in time? Do you know what it would’ve meant for me and for—”  

You stopped yourself mid-sentence, refusing to continue.  

You knew your emotions were running wild because of your pregnancy hormones, but you forced yourself to calm down. Getting so worked up would only lead to a pointless argument with Seb and wasn’t good for you or the baby.  

“For who, Y/N?” Seb asked, stepping closer and gently taking your hands in his.  

“For... me! Who else?” you replied quickly. 

Sebastian didn’t know how to respond. He’d never seen you so distressed about his racing, and while he tried to stay calm, inside he was battling a storm of worry and confusion.  

“This stress isn’t good for me or for the situation you and, well... you’ve gotten me into,” you said, your voice cracking.  

“Y/N, babe, I swear I have no idea what you’re talking about. Fuck, I’m pretty worried about you right now with all this shit, but if you don’t tell me what’s going on—”  

“Damn it, Seb! I’m pregnant!”  

You looked down, tears streaming down your face. You clenched your fists tightly, furious at yourself for revealing such big news in such an emotional, unplanned way.  

Sebastian, meanwhile, stood frozen, his eyes wide in shock at the unexpected news. Slowly, everything started to make sense: your morning sickness, falling asleep all the time, constantly complaining about being tired, and the flimsy excuses you gave for not drinking wine, something you normally loved.  

He cursed himself for not realizing it sooner and for believing your weak justifications about bad leftovers being the cause of everything.  

“You’re... pregnant?” His voice was barely audible, almost afraid to say the words out loud because they didn’t feel real.  

You wiped your tears and sniffled, doing your best to meet your husband’s gaze without feeling ashamed.  

“Yes...” you said timidly. “I wanted to tell you in a special way... you know, by giving you a baby onesie in a box with the positive pregnancy test inside, but...” You shook your head and finally looked him in the eyes. “I thought you were going to die out there today and leave your child and me alone. The thought of losing you, now of all times, just...”  

“You’re really pregnant? We’re going to have a baby?”  

You nodded, and Seb couldn’t hold back his tears. He pulled you into a tight embrace and began kissing you tenderly. You melted into his arms, feeling an immense weight lifted from your shoulders.  

“I didn’t know how to tell you,” you admitted. “I swear I wanted it to be special, but seeing you out there today, thinking something could happen to you...” Your voice broke again. “I was terrified, Seb, like never before watching you race.”  

“I’m so sorry, love. I really am,” he said sincerely, cupping your cheeks gently and kissing you over and over. “If I’d known, I would’ve been more careful. God, love, this is incredible... This is the best news I’ve ever received.”  

“You’re not mad that I didn’t tell you sooner? You should’ve seen your face earlier...”  

“Mad? That you didn’t tell me sooner?” You shrugged, your insecurity showing despite your years together. Seb tilted his head, understanding this was one of your rare but extreme moments of doubt. “I’m just... in shock. I can’t believe we’re going to be parents...”  

Sebastian hesitantly touched your stomach, and you burst into fresh tears at the tenderness of his gesture.  

“Now you have to promise me something, Seb,” you said, playing with his hair as he knelt before you, leaving kisses on your belly.  

“Anything for you and our little one.”  

“You need to be more careful from now on. Stop thinking so much with your adrenaline and testosterone, and start using your brain more,” you said, trying not to sound too harsh. “I know Formula 1 and racing is your whole life, but I don’t want you risking it when we’re bringing a new one into the world. I’m eight weeks along, and we still have 32 to go assuming everything follows the perfect pregnancy script.”  

Seb stood and gazed at you, trying to convey the calm you both could only find in each other.  

“Love, I promise,” he whispered softly. “For you, for the baby... I love winning, but today, and even more so when our child is born, I’ll have won the second most important race of my life.”  

You frowned, confused.  

“If that’s the second, what’s the most important race of your life then?”  

He chuckled and scooped you into his arms, kissing you again as he laid you both on the couch behind you.  

“The race I ran for so many years to win your heart,” he murmured between slow, deliberate kisses that said more than words ever could. “After all those years trying to get you to go out with me in high school, and now we’re eight months away from having a baby... what else could it be, mama?”  

[purplereina11]

New Signing, New Beginning Part 2!

Mia Larsen was Barcelonas new summer signing

Alexia Putellas is a club legend who just can't seem to talk to her

Mia had a few good days in training, and it showed. Her confidence was up, she was walking out for today’s training with Keira, seemed to be a theme Alexia just ahead yet again. As ever near by but never felt the awkwardness she was slowly creating.

Alexia was having an internal conversation with her self hyping her up to make such a simple comment to Mia. She stopped suddenly turning and seeing that Mia looked a bit taken a back, with her sudden spin. Smooth she said to herself, before speaking “Alba couldn’t get that jacket”

“Oh?” Mia said softly Alexia falling in line with her, “How come?” Mia asked after a few beats of silence

“Couldn’t find in her size”

“Shame” Mia looked to Alexia and they held eye contact, when Alexia didn’t speak, Mia broke the silence, “Well..” she broke the eye contact, “Um i seem to be in there a lot lately so i’ll keep an eye out, what size is she?”

“She’s looking for small”

“Ok” Mia nodded pierced her lips together and broke out into a jog to get to training.

+

Mia was in Zara, shocker, after training she was with Julia and her little brother Diego who only agreed to come, as he was told they were going out for dinner after the shops. He didn’t take into account how long two women can stand debating over a top however.

Mia was looking at tank tops when Julia appeared with the pink jacket, “Hey, you know how i love your jacket, they have one small left-“

“Please don’t tell me you’re buying that” Mia gave Julia a dumbfounded expression, “Just borrow mine!”

“Oh” Julia shrugged, “I’ll go put it back”

Mia pointed, “Just leave it there” Mia carried on looking through for her size

“You buy a lot of clothes”

“Surprisingly Julia, living in England i didn’t have many warm weather clothes, i need practically a whole new wardrobe”

Julia sighed, “I best find Diego before he gets himself into trouble”

“Are you buying anything? I’m going to go pay”

“No i’ll just get him and meet you outside”

Mia smiled, “Ok, find out where he wants to eat i can’t be bothered for a 45 minute argument wandering around the same places”

Despite the conversation they still ended up having the same 45 minute argument before settling on the same place they always go.

“So how’s it going? The captain like you yet”

Mia chewing her food shook her head, “I don’t care if she doesn’t like me, you can’t put 22 women together and expect them all to get on, i think as long as we can communicate effectively about football then that’s fine”

“Your tune has changed”

“I’ve come to terms with it, when i don’t get any minutes in the games then come back to me, then i’ll be bothered again”

“She can do that?”

“She’s Alexia Putellas if anyone can she can” Mia shrugged, “I have the same few girls who i speak to, i’m good with that”

Julia looked at her, “Do you hate me that i followed her on Insta today”

Mia laughed softly, “No”

“She’s hot” Mia rose her eyes, “What? I have eyes”

“I’m going to be sick” Diego spoke

“Shut up and eat your paella” Julia said to her younger brother shoving the dish closer to him

Mia pulled a face at Diego about his bossy sister that he laughed at, “When you’re older you’ll understand why she’s grumpy” Mia nodded

“She’s horny and no man will look at her that’s why suddenly she’s decided she likes women”

Mia burst out laughing as Julia was embarrassed and amused all in the same breath by her 10 year old brother. “Diego! How do you even know that word?”

“I’m 10 Julia, i’m not a kid anymore”

Mia was laughing softly, “You’ll always be our baby”

“Gross”

Mia stood up leaning over the table to kiss his face, “You’re so cute”

“You’re pretty, and a nice person, your captain will see that soon”

Mia smiled, “You going to come some of the games?”

Diego nodded, “I’ll get mami to buy me a shirt with your name on and everything”

“I might even show up” Julia smiled never being a fan of football, all the shouting was unnecessary! She didn’t understand how people got so invested in people kicking a ball.

Mia moved her eyes to Julia, “You’re just coming to eye up the players”

“No”

“Yes” Diego agreed with Julia, “You don’t even know the off side rule, that’s like going to church when you don’t believe”

Mia chuckled, “He’s got you there”

+

Mia arrived at training she smiled at the little boy rushing around reception, he took one look at her and went all shy, “Mia” She looked to the receptionist, “No ones answering the locker room phone, can you tell Irene her wife and son are here for her”

“Sure”

“¿cómo te llamas?” Mia looked to the little boy holding his arms over his chest shy but was seemingly so curious of the new face at his mamis work he could over come it.

Mia crouched extending her hand, “Mia, ¿cómo te llamas?”

“Matteo” he shook her hand animately moving it up and down greatly.

Mia told him it was very nice to meet him and that she’d go get his mummy, but Matteo started a conversation. He told her how he was going to the zoo with his school and all the animals he was excited to see. And that he was even getting a packed lunch.

Mia rose to her feet as Irene’s wife introduced herself, “He’s never this chatty, he’s meant to be going today but Irene forgot to sign his permission slip, we both have to sign it”

Matteo took hold of two of Mias fingers took the slip from his mum and told her to wait there he’ll go with Mia then come back he was a big boy and could do it.

Mia laughed softly as he lead the way not giving her much of a say on the matter, “This way” she said to him gently when he turned the wrong way.

“Mami” Matteo spoke pointing ahead of him, “This way?”

“Yeah she’s this way” Mia spoke, “What other animals do you want to see?”

“T-rex”

“T-rex” Mia exclaimed, “I don’t think they’ll be in the zoo” she said with a smile, she got the dressing room, she looked around and Irene wasn’t there. She caught Marta’s eye, “Do you know where Irene is?”

“Yeah they’ve um, they’ve just gone into meeting room 1 if you’re quick you might catch them before they start” Marta got a shy little wave from Matteo when she waved at him, she’d watch this little shy boy grow up to see him happily with Mia was a surprise to her. He normally clung to Irene, Alexia or Maria would get a cuddle if they were lucky on a good day.

“Come on handsome” Mia spoke luckily the meeting room was only mere metres away his little legs not moving him with any pace. She didn’t want to interrupt them if they’d already started.

Mateo turned first pulling on Mias fingers, “Come on beautiful”

Mia laughed with Marta, “Oh wonder where you got all this charm from ay?”

Mia got Matteo to the door and knocked, she heard a come in and when she opened the door, she was met with the coaches and the senior players of the team all turned to look at her and she felt like a bit of a deer in highlights in that moment. Pere smiled, “Hola Mia what can we do for you?”

“Well” she smiled, “I have a little boy out here that just needs a moment of his mamis time if that’s ok”

Matteo stood pressed against Mias leg until he spotted Irene “Mami” Matteo waved the slip at Irene rushing around the table to her

“You a nanny now?” Maria smiled turning more in her chair to look at Mia who smiled.

“Side hustle” Mia nodded leaning on the door frame, “Lucia said if i do a good job i get some of his rice crackers” Maria laughed as for some reason Alexia didn’t want to show her amusement. It showed for a second before she repressed it again. “You think i’m joking” she stood up from the frame.

“You going with Mia back to Mami?” Irene kissed Matteos cheek placing him back down on the ground.

Matteo came around the table, “Come on then handsome” she smiled putting her hand towards him.

Mia smiled down at him, “I coming beautiful” Matteo reached up, “Mia hand, no reach”

“Oh sorry” Mia lowered her hand, “Let’s leave them to there meeting and get you back to Mami so you can go the zoo”

“Mia i want to see monkeys to”

“Oh of course, Monkeys are the best animal” Mia spoke as she shut the door and off they went.

+

Irene found Mia on the training field, “I just wanted to thank you for before” Mia furrowed her brows, “You didn’t have to bring him through like that, it was kind of you”

Mia smiled, “It was no bother” Alexia bent over near them fixing her socks, “Honestly can he come more often the amount of compliments he gave me” Mia laughed softly

“Lucia text when she dropped him off at school, apparently he didn’t shut up about his new friend Mia so I think you won’t have much choice about that”

Mia rose her arms as Keira approached, “Guess what” she said to Keira

“What?” Keira asked giving her a funny look wondering where this was going

“I’ve made my first new friend in Barca” Mia smiled proudly

“Sorry what about me?” Keira asked

“I knew you pre Barca”

“Who’s your friend?”

“Matteo” Mia pointed to Irene who was smiling, Mia seemed always so collected, but when she dropped that ever so slightly, which seemed to only ever be around Keira, she had a little silly side.

“He avoids me like the plague”

“Maybe its that permanent scowl you always have.. honestly its a wonder Laura even entertained you”

Keira dropped her mouth staring at Mias cheeky grin laughing in disbelief, “Rude!”

“Oh calm down grandma”

Keira pointed at her, “Not from you, I’m not accepting it from you of all people, what did you do last night Mia?”

“I went out for dinner with my cousins”

“Then”

“My Grandma taught me to knit” she muttered

“Exactly” Keira gave her a look, “And you can’t question Lauras taste when you dated Katie McCabe for three months”

Irene scrunched her face trying to place the name, “Is that.. the angry little Irish woman?”

“Please don’t judge me.. it was a lapse in judgment”

Keira began walking away backwards to the other side of the huddle, “She’s judging you” she smiled pointing at Irene, who was indeed judging.

Mia sighed placing her hands on her hips, “You don’t know me very well, but I promise I have taste”

Irene laughed as Alexia smiled. Irene had noticed how Alexia hadn’t taken her eyes of Mia but had yet to say a word and Alexia always had something to say usually. “I feel I need to know who your other exes are now, because so far with what I know, I can’t say I believe you”

“Tell them about the hummer Mia” Keira smiled calling across the huddle.

Alexia lowered her head chuckling at the look Mia was giving Keira, if looks could kill as they say, Pere smiled, “What’s this about a hummer?”

Mia put one foot to the side and lowered her head as she put her hands behind her back, she rose her head, “It’s not that interesting of a story if i’m honest..” she smiled

Pere laughed sensing her embarrassment and started the training session with a quick run down of what they were doing and what he needed from her.

The girls were told to separate over the pitch and kick the ball back and to each other, Mia scrunched her face as Keira came towards her motioning they were pairing, Alexia and Mia seemed to be in perfect sync as they kicked the ball and received it. Mia noticed every one else seemed to be having conversations with those around them. Bar her and Alexia. So she struck up a conversation about something surely Alexia would talk about, “That jacket your sister wants”

Alexia looked to her, “She still can’t find it, she’s got everyone looking for it” Mia smiled as she controlled a tricky ball from Keira, “Nice, good control” she felt her cheeks warm at the compliment from the multi award winning midfielder.

Mia sent the ball back, “I went to Zara yesterday after training”

“Do you have second job there?”

Mia laughed as Alexia chuckled at herself, “No” Alexia looked pleased with herself she made her laugh like Mia was the one who had a wall that needed breaking down, “My cousin, she came over with the jacket in a small, last one left” Alexia looked to her after sending her ball back over to Irene who seemed to be paying a lot of attention, “I convinced her to not buy it,” Mia jogged back to control the next ball from Keira and sent it back with one touch.

“Your control” Alexia waved her hand, “Crazy”

“I wanted to be a defender” Mia told Alexia a story she never really shared with people before, it was that interesting but she found herself telling her anyway as a way to make small talk, “But my coach at the time, said with my touch, I had to be a striker and in the box”

“Your coach right” Alexia nodded, “We’re excited to have you here”

Mia pierced her lips together, “Thank you.. anyway, I bought the jacket, I have it with me so you can give it to your sister”

“Gracias, she be very happy, I give you the money” Alexia hid her surprise that Mia did that for her sister, Mia did a touch that made Alexia turn away, “You’re just showing off now” Mia laughed just as the whistle blew.

+

Mia was in the canteen after training having something to eat alone, by choice, when Alexia approached, Mia rose her head. “Can I join?” Mia nodded Alexia sitting opposite her silently, Mia was having an out of body experience she was sat opposite the Alexia Putellas putting a straw into a juice box and sipping it like a child. She looked cute in her soft tracksuit and her hair down wavy. Made her somewhat hardness towards Mia soften. Mia lowered her eyes back to her sudoko when Alexia’s eyes darted to hers and she thought she got away with Alexia not catching her but she did. “Suduko no?”

“Si” Mia spoke filling another number in

“To complicada for me, I can’t do them”

Mia smiled gently raising her eyes, “They relax me”

Alexia rose her eyes, and the soft smiley Alexia Mia had watched her be with everyone else was finally sat before her looking at her with those sparkly eyes with the glint in them, that part was new. “Relaxing, no? Not possible” she laughed gently shaking her head

Alexia felt her stomach flip when Mia smiled at her as she rose her eyes looking at her, “Si possible” she nodded with a little laugh

Mia and Alexia didn’t stop smiling the entire time they spoke, they made each other laugh. Mia found it endearing the biggest name in women’s football was a tad awkward, held herself gently. She was softly spoken towards her like if she spoke to loud it would spook her. Because she had so much aura about her on the pitch, that’s where she was the Alexia Putellas. Confident. Assured. Knew herself. Maybe here she was being just Alexia. Because she seemed none of those things. She seemed, human.

A person despite previous opinions formed, was growing on Mia. Showing a different side.

+

Mia came out reception after the team meeting, Alba spotted her before Alexia did, “Ay” she called Mia smiled seeing Alba with the jacket on modelling it for her with a smile on her face.

Alexia turned to see Mia coming down the steps clearly amused by Alba, “Suits you”

“Gracias” Alba was a hugger. Mia not so much she just let the hug happen. Can’t say no to a Putellas after all. Practically royals of the game.

Mia smiled, “You’re welcome” Mia kept walking as Alexia opened the car door, to Mia that was a signal she didn’t want her sticking around for a chat

“Wait, i owe you money for it” Alba spoke

“Alexia covered it, you owe her not me” Mia called looking over her shoulder

“Ay free jacket” Alba grinned to herself with a laugh

Mia laughed when Alexia frowned at Alba back handing her sister in the arm, she got into her Granddads car as they were seeming to bicker.

+

Mia looked as she got a notification, then an email. Then another notification.

Alexia Putellas has started following you

Alexia Putellas has liked your post

Mia felt, weirdly vulnerable knowing Alexia was looking at her instagram and actively scrolling as the post she liked about her announcing her move to Barcelona was several posts down.

She wondered if she would ever get to the point she would trigger an email when she followed someone because she was big time like Alexia.

+

Alexia locked her phone and placed it down as she was at dinner with Irene. “So i have a question” Irene spoke looking to Alexia, “What’s your deal with Mia?”

Alexia furrowed her brows, “What do you mean?”

“Ale, you seemed to always be around her but never make the effort to talk to her, then three four weeks go by and suddenly you’re seeking her out to have lunch with her and apparently stalking her Instagram” she motioned to the phone now sat down

Alexia sipped her wine, “I don’t know how to be around her”

Irene furrowed her brows but in bounded Maria babbling about it was Ingrid’s fault she’s late and she was hogging the bathroom. Oblivious Maria greeted them both taking her seat and she froze when she saw the look Irene was giving Alexia.

“You don’t know how to be around her?”

“I can’t explain it” Alexia carried on, she was sure Maria would catch on soon enough she didn’t feel she needed to explain.

“Try” Irene prodded

“She doesn’t seem bothered by me, every other person they speak to me whether i want them to or not. They cling and they fuss and they want constant validation from me but her… she doesn’t do that. It’s like she couldn’t care less”

It was like someone switched a light on in Irene’s brain, she didn’t dislike Mia, “You like her”

“Who?!” Maria exclaimed, “Please catch me up, i could flick Ingrid for making me late and missing the vital information”

“Calm down” Irene chuckled, “It’s Mia”

Maria looked to Alexia, “You like Larsen? Gosh i sounded 12 then”

Alexia smiled looking down at the menu, “I find her intriguing we’ll put it that way” Irene and Maria shared a look

“Yet you won’t speak to her. Hardly.” She wasn’t even aware of Alexia’s Instagram stalking. Mapi flipped her menu not making eye contact with Alexia, the pair learned she’s more like to open up if you don’t pressure her or stare at her expectantly.

“I talk to her”

Irene smiled, “If we had a team dinner and we sat her next to you, you would happily sit in silence next to her all night”

“I don’t know what to say to her”

“Talk to her about clothes or skin care, her and Ingrid are always going on about that, honestly who knew you needed so many different face creams.” Maria rolled her eyes, “She was meeting Mia to go face cream shopping like who does that?“

Alexia laughed softly before they ordered their meals conversation halting as the waitress arrived, “Would you date Mia?” Irene asked, Alexia furrowed her brows at that question, “It was just a question” Irene held her hands up as she smiled, “You said yourself, she doesn’t seem bothered by you” Irene shrugged, “Maybe she isn’t impressed by La Reina”

“Then what makes you think she’ll want to date me?”

“That’s my point, she may date you.. for you.”

“I’m not that interesting” Alexia spoke sipping her wine, she looked as Maria’s phone pinged. “That Ingrid?”

Mapi opened the text, “She didn’t mention Mia if that’s what you’re digging for”

“I wasn’t, can we drop it now?”

Maria leant forward and whispered, “She is your type” she sat back up putting her hands up, “Had to be put out there”

“Did it?” Alexia smirked, even she found that funny

The girls had a lovely meal they were having a drink after there meal, Maria checked her phone, it was odd Ingrid hadn’t text she was home, she was only going out for an hour or so she told Maria.

She checked Instagram, she smiled seeing why she hadn’t gone home yet

Mia and Ingrid were talking about her first couple of weeks in Barcelona, how she was finding it. “Daunting coming into a team like this isn’t it, I remember by first couple of weeks, I’d just go home and sleep it was so overwhelming, new country new language new culture, trying to learn the Barca way” Ingrid smiled sipping her wine.

Mia looked up from her wine, “Did you ever get imposter syndrome, like you felt like you didn’t actually belong here?” Ingrid nodded with a soft smile, “I feel like they’re going to turn around any minute and tell me to get lost”

“I’m not just bullshitting you with this, and I shouldn’t be telling you this because Maria shouldn’t of told me.. but in there captains meeting, she said how Aitana and Alexia were singing your praises”

“Alexia surprises me”

Ingrid tilted her head, “Why?”

Mia seemed to hold her breathe as she thought, “I’m not asking for a fan fair or anything from her, but I just seem to get tips from her, and I know its how I’m perceiving it and she probably doesn’t mean to come across like it but I’m taking it as your shit, sort your shit out”

Ingrid smiled shaking her head, “I can hand on heart say, Alexia is a perfectionist and very very self critical, but she’d never push that on someone else, she just wants people to come into things trying there best and wants the best out of them.. she hates loosing, honestly, she was backing you hard in that meeting.”

Mia smiled, “I appreciate that but I will still think she doesn’t want me here”

“Mia” Ingrid tilted her head

A finger came out the side of Mia’s glass pointing at the door opened behind Ingrid, “You will learn very quickly I’m quite self critical to” Mia smirked seeing the face come through the door first, “You have a visitor” she sipped her wine as Irene and Alexia came inside behind Mapi who instantly reached over the table to squeeze Mias hand before hugging Ingrid and kissing her cheek.

“What are you doing here?”

“We were down the road having dinner, saw you were here, came to see how the shopping went?”

Mia leant on the table smiling, “You’ll be pleased to know you’ve got less room in the bathroom” Maria pulled a face at the bags under the table.

“How many face creams do you need?” Maria exclaimed, she pointed at Mia, “You are a bad influence”

Mia smiled shrugged and sipped her wine again, her eyes went to Alexia who was watching her, before Irene caught Mia’s attention, “Matteo said beautiful Mia would love the zoo, they had her favourite animal monkeys”

Mia melted, “He’s just adorable. Why can’t all men be more like him?”

Maria snapped her head so fast she went dizzy, “You’re straight!” She exclaimed

Mia sat up arms open slightly as Irene settle beside her Ingrid moving up one to let Alexia on the bench that side opposite Mia, “Wow.. when Keira told me you have to be gay and have tattoos to play football here I thought she was joking”

Maria laughed reaching to touch her arm, “Love is Love”

Mia giggled, “We’ll have to get you a flag with that on”

“I love flags”

“I’m not doubting you do” Mia smiled

“I’m going to go the bar, what do you want, Ale?” Maria asked Alexia who just pointed at Mia glass,

“Wines fine for me”

“Same again?” Ingrid smiled, Mia nodded, “We should of just bought the bottle” Mia smiled

“I’ll come with you, I fancy something different” Irene stood up with Maria as Ingrid turned on the bench to get out.

“Shall I just get the bottle?” Ingrid asked, “Would you drink that Ale?”

“What is it?” She asked then smiled when Ingrid pulled a face telling her she didn’t know

Mia held her glass to Alexia, “Try it”

Alexia looked to her it took a second but she took the glass and took a sip nodding her approval, “I’ll get a bottle then” she smiled and off she went to find the girls at the bar who shut up as soon as she got there, “What are you two up to?”

“Been to Zara today?” Alexia joked hands resting in her lap, looking at Mia who smiled ever so slightly looking at her, “You did didn’t you”

“Only because Ingrid wanted to go”

“Oh sure” Alexia shook her head, “Do you own any other clothes that aren’t from Zara?”

Mia scratched her face, “Got a bit of Barca stuff”

Alexia titled her head ever so slightly, “Please tell me you’re joking”

“I could tell you I was joking, but that would be a lie”

Alexia was laughing gently, “I’ll have to get myself to one and see what all the fuss is about, Alba is just the same”

“I’ll probably see you there” Mia joked Alexia laughed nodding knowing she probably would. And secretly hoping she did. “Bet you’re more of Passeig De Gràcia kind of girl huh?” Mia teased lifting her wine to her lips, Mia had walked down the street lined with all the designer shops on each side but hadn’t dared going into any of the shops

“You’re not funny” Alexia spoke with a smile that indeed told Mia and the returning Barca girls, she was in fact funny

Mia hummed tilting her head briefly, “If you say so” she sipped her wine, placing the glass back down.

Ingrid poured Alexia a glass, “Gracias” before she lifted her own glass

“Salud” They all clinked their glasses saying it several times to each other.

Mia looked at her phone as a text popped up, she read it on the front screen before opening it to read the rest, “Angry little Irish women?” Irene asked

“Honestly” Mia locked her phone, “You would think she’d get the message”

“When did you break up?” Ingrid asked softly

Mia seemed to have to think about it which gave them a clue of the time frame, “.. April”

“And she still texts?”

“And calls, and asks to FaceTime, a few times a day to, it had gone a bit quiet but now they’re coming to Barcelona for that friendly, she’s ramped up again wanting to meet up”

“Will you.. meet up with her?” Alexia asked sipping her wine, she was looking over Mia’s face, she was hard read

“No” Mia shook her head, “She had her chance, you don’t get to screw me over more than once”

The girls finished the bottle between them as they chatted and laughed, Alexia didn’t have much to contribute but she was at least laughing when Mia cracked a joke. Mia appreciative because sometimes she was the only one to. She felt maybe, the ice had been broken. It wouldn’t be as awkward, she knew there may always be that slight awkwardness due to the awkward soul that was Alexia in some situations, but slowly she was believing what Ingrid had told her earlier.

Mia got to the locker room the following morning, Alexia looked at the paper Mia picked up then to Mias face to see her reaction, “Irene said Mateo drew it for you” Mia smiled looking to where Irene sat and held the picture to her

“He was insistent that I gave it to you soon as I saw you”

Mia dropped her bag between her legs where she stood and the girls could see even though she never voiced it, she was clearly touched, she took some blu tack from a near by strategy board and stuck it in her cubby, before getting on with her morning to be ready for training. Afterwards she was shocked she had been picked to do media, with the queen herself Alexia Putellas.

Alexia sent a soft smile over her shoulder, “Don’t look so nervous, it’s fine” Never did Mia think she’d be thankful to have Alexia there for her but her calmness and composure as she walked in helped calm her. Alexia pulled the chair out for Mi

 before taking her own

“Gracias” Mia muttered sitting down, much to her surprise the first question was posed to her

“Mia, Welcome to Barcelona, you’ll have to excuse my English”

“La podemos hacer en español si lo prefieres.” Mia said with a shrug of a shoulder as she leant on the table telling the interviewer he could do it in Spanish if he preferred

Alexia as she pulled her chair in smirked looking to Mia, “Español? Si?” The interviewer tried to confirm

Mia nodded, “Si”

Alexia watched Mia the entire time she did her little bit in the media room, she fiddled with her hoop earrings as the next question was posed yet again to Mia, “What’s it been like these past few weeks in pre-season with some of the best players in the world, one of whom is sitting beside you”

Mia smiled as did Alexia, “Be nice” she spoke in a mock warning tone

“It’s a real honour” Mia started in a mock rehearsed voice before smiling, “No but seriously it has been an honour, like you say I’m sharing the grass with the best players in the world and I’ve just been trying to do my best and really take on board and soak up all the comments and advice” Mia motioned to Alexia briefly, “The team and players have been giving me, to be become a better player so I can contribute in my time here, its been an adjustment thats for sure like it would be to go into any new team but one with the stature and history of Barcelona brings with its own set of nerves, so just keeping my head down and focusing on pre-season to get a prepared for the season ahead as much as I can”

“Alexia, from your point of view how’s Mia been doing”

Alexia smiled as Mia mimicked her, “Be nice”

She laughed before speaking, “Shall I do mine in English?” Mia smiled nodding

“If you want to”

“Mia” Mia lowered her head briefly, it caught her off guard how much she liked the way Alexia said her name, she’d never heard her say her name before, “For sure, if you” Alexia paused briefly, “Pass her, it will be assist because 100% would be a goal, I tell her this in training, her touch crazy, how she control ball, incredible, I like a lot how she moves without ball also so I think she do well at Barca. We’re very happy she on our team”

Mia smiled timidly looking to Alexia looked to her, “Cheers, I’ll pay you later”

“100 euro no?” Alexia asked trying to surprise her smile playing along

Mia nodded as the room laughed, “Si”

Mia went on her daily Zara peruse after training feeling a lot better about how her captain felt about her, although as she was looking around she couldn’t help but giggle at the face she knew Alexia could give her if she knew she was here yet again.

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

Can not believe the response the last part got! Thank you so much!

No idea how many parts this will be but let me know if you want more! Also do we like the fake socials

Part 3

[deancasforcutie]

#literally this is the thing!! #Dean has not explicitly said the words ''please stop leaving'' #but he has tried very hard through his actions to express that #AND!!!! CRUCIALLY!!! BECAUSE DEAN IS ACTUALLY A PRETTY GOOD VERBAL COMMUNICATOR!! #he has ALSO!!! verbally expressed his desire for Cas to stick around using OTHER words!!! #not as explicit as ''please stop leaving and stay with me'' but absolutely conveying the same sentiment #what the hell do you think ''we're stronger together'' and the whole ''cursed or not'' speech were about???? #like Cas needs it to be more clear than that to Get It bc he does not understand how his constant absence HURTS #but Dean does not want to BE more explicit than he already is #bc he feels like he's been VERY direct on the subject already #he literally told Cas he needs him. TWICE. and has prayed that he needs him there with them at least once that I can recall #Dean thinks he's been EXTREMELY explicitly clear already!!! #and that Cas is constantly leaving bc despite hearing Dean's tacit request to stay Cas is REFUSING that request and doesn't WANT to stay #he keeps asking and getting rebuffed WHY would he be louder and needier about it when he thinks all it's going to get him #is the emotional equivalent of a slap to the face? #in no universe is Dean going to ask for something louder when from his POV he's already been begging for it and being refused like???? #this is one of those cases where neither of them is actually doing anything wrong #Dean is communicating perfectly fine it's just Cas is autistic and missing some subtext #Cas isn't wrong for prioritizing his missions when he doesn't understand that Dean wants him there as much as he wants to be there #they're just talking past each other and a deeper conversation or two would fix this problem for them #they just don't realize that conversation is necessary #bc Dean thinks he's been heard and understood and Cas is politely declining his request for more time together #and Cas is unaware that that's something Dean has been asking for at varying volume levels for years #and instead bc of his trauma feels compelled to ''earn'' his place in the family with feats of strength so to speak #no one is at fault for their emotional needs not being met it's just a miscommunication #unfortunately the fandom focuses super hard on only one part of that equation and thus the takes on it are so often Bad™ #and ignore Cas's motivations and role as a complex actor with his own trauma and emotional issues and blind spots #anyway they're losers I adore them both <3 (via @ilarual)

on a realer note i do think people forget that a huge part of the destiel equation is that cas won’t stay. like yeah we focus a lot on the fact that dean won’t ask him to, but cas never sticking around is a huge factor there

[kwoniele]

don't let them hear — choi subong

synopsis: lights off meant something a little different between you and the famous choi subong, also known as thanos.

genre: smut and fluff bc theyre js exes who want eo bad LOL. green flag choi subong... say WHAT 💜

warnings: afab reader, tease, fingering, nothing else honestly

author's note: this is the first time i have ever written on this account + since my social media detox so pls bear w me if this isnt exactly up to your standards ha ha ha... ily anyway not proofread! i wrote this when it was 3am leave me be.

"lights will be turned off in ten seconds."

in a moment, the lights will dim and the only thing shedding light in the room would be the giant pig dangling from the ceiling and choi subong's pale skin that's attached to yours. ever since he told you he would be joining you in bed tonight, you couldn't deny the fact you were thrilled. your drug-addict ex boyfriend shouldn't have excited you this much. let alone the fact you were waiting for him. 

"five, four, three, two, one." now, it was fully dark. 

you sighed in disappointment. you turned away from the side subong was and decided to sleep on your own. you knew you shouldn't have trusted him at all, yet you were gullible enough to believe he'd keep his promise. and he didn't. cause if he did, he would be beside you with his arms wrapped around your waist pulling you closer to him so that you could warm one another up.

"y/n?," your eyes abruptly opened, "are you still awake?" he actually did it. he actually kept his promise.

he actually came.

you decided to play the stubborn game and not answer. but you knew that he was aware you were definitely up. "don't want me here? okay señorita. i'll leave." his footsteps began to get quieter as he 'left'. you felt guilty and decided to let him explain himself. after all, it hasn't been long since that robot woman announced it was time for bed.

"fuck you." you turned toward him, expecting him to be halfway gone already. yet you met a choi subong sitting down with his arms trapping his knees while replicating footsteps that were leaving. "wow. double fuck you.'

"please, i know you want me here. so move over." he stood up and laid down beside you as his head automatically dug itself into your chest. "i don't give a fuck if you're going to go on some lecture about how i should have been here sooner, so don't waste your time." he pecked your collarbone before adjusting his position. "i'm here with you and that's what matters. okay?"

speechless is an understatement. you couldn't even be mad. you couldn't feel the slightest anger in you because he's right there. you could see his purple hair laying on your neck.

wait. something's wrong. something's missing.

"wait. choi subong. where's the necklace?" you used two fingers to tilt his head up so you could see his eyes. they're still as pretty as ever. fuck him for having such charming eyes. 

"gone. i threw it away when i saw you rave about how you were so much happier when you quit." he stared at you. waiting for you to say something. "what? do you want me to dig my hands into the toilet to retrieve it?"

"did you seriously… get rid of it? for me?" you sat up. tucking a strand of hair behind your ear before holding his hands. you noticed the tattoo he dedicated to you. the little heart with a sun next to it because he said that you were his ray of sunshine.

"of course i did. i meant it when i told you i'd fix myself as long as we crossed paths again, you know. i don't just make promises for the sake of—" shutting him up with your lips was probably your favourite thing to do. you missed this. you missed him. you missed feeling his lips perfectly match yours everytime you leaned in to him. 

"then i meant it when i told you i'd let you fuck me whenever, wherever. hopefully you take that damn opportunity now." he analysed your face before realising you were serious. he didn't even need to say anything. he just held your face by your jaw, kissing you rougher than earlier while gently laying you down on your bed.

he took off your pants and placed it just beside the bed, sliding your panties right after it. "fuck. how long have you been this wet, hm?" his middle finger glided itself from your cunt to your clit, using your slick as lubricant to teasingly insert his finger in your hole. "was it when i told you i quit? or when you kissed me? or better yet, since you saw me?"

"fuck, subong–" his free hand covered your mouth, preventing you from letting a noise out. 

"can you be quiet for me, baby? wouldn't want to let these jackasses know i'm fucking the prettiest girl here, would you?" you shook your head, agreeing that you should be dead silent. 

you didn't even notice that he snuck a second finger, fucking you with his fingers repeatedly until your were squirming and arching your back from the bed. "that's it, baby. do just that." his thumb flicked your clit, causing you to buck your hips on his hand. 

you don't know how he understood, but you mumbled against his hand that you were going to cum. his smirk was evident in the dark room which caused you to be pushed to the edge even more. "are you going to cum? hmm? is my baby finally going to cum for the love of her life?"

all you could do was nod. it was cute to him.

when you finally reached your release, he made sure to lick off all of your juice from his fingers. you watched him slowly suck on his ring finger while intensely staring at you. "i love you. don't leave ever again. i better be the only one you do this to."

"only for you, baby. just you and me. choi subong and future choi y/n. okay?

[loverboysturn]

✮⋆˙ newboy!matt and popular!reader have their first kiss !

read all newboy!matt writings here & find everything else here

note: this is obviously further down the timeline of anything else i have written for these two but i wanted to write something cute for them because everything else so far has been a lil angsty! after this the angst will continue tho..

for weeks now, you and matt had been spending more and more time together—hanging out after school most days, often spending time at his place with his brothers whilst you watched the three of them bicker, you’d take long drives around town, with no actual destination in mind, just the quiet hum of the car and the occasional glance between you. sometimes, you’d even sit in silence, both reading your books, each lost in them but still in the same space, just enjoying the presence of one another.

since you met him, there had always been something intense between you from the start, something neither of you had ever addressed. the lingering glances, the way it felt like the rest of the world was on pause when you were with him. you hadn’t said anything about your feelings for him, you couldn’t bring yourself to say it, afraid of the rejection because you know that would break you now, but you felt it, the pull towards him, you just prayed he felt the same.

tonight was no different, you were sitting on the floor of his bedroom, flipping through one of his books you’d grabbed off the shelf. matt was sat on the bed, his elbows rested on his knees, watching you as you read, his brow furrowed.

“you know” you say, not looking up at him. “i was thinking..you still haven’t told me what happened at your old school.”

matt winces, not because you asking him the question bothered him, but because he didn’t want to get into it all with you. not just yet.

“it got me to be transferred to your school, that’s all that should matter” he says, his voice casual, trying to play it down. “it’s not a big deal.”

you glance up at him then, a smirk forming on your lips. “yeah, sure. because people just get transferred to a new school for ‘no big deal’”

he rolls his eyes, leaning back slightly. “yeah, well i did.”

you close the book with a snap and set it down beside you, you were unconvinced. “i don’t buy it, pretty boy” you say, voice turning playful, almost flirty. “you have this whole mysterious tough guy act going on, and just give me a little time, and i’m gonna figure you out.”

“oh, are you now? what’s your plan of action then pretty girl?” he asks you, raising an eyebrow.

you smirk, slowly standing up. “i just want to see if all those rumors about you are all talk.”

he straightens himself up, catching the playful look in your eyes. “you sure you want to do that?”

you don’t hesitate, taking a step toward him, nudging his arm lightly. “come on tough guy, show me what you got.”

before he can react, you push him, gently but just hard enough for him to fall back on the bed. he laughs, not surprised, but impressed by your sudden act of confidence. the sound of his laugh sends a flutter through your chest, making your heart skip a beat.

“oh, it is so on now” he says, grinning as he moves quickly towards you, grabbing you by the waist and pulling you down onto the floor with him.

you let out a yelp, laughing, but quickly managing to squirm out of his grip, moving so you’re now on top of him straddling his chest, hands placed softly on his shoulders, pinning him down.

for a moment, you’re both frozen in place, completely caught in how the level of intensity in the room had switched, there was a feeling of something else, something neither of you had acknowledged yet.

you catch your breath as you instinctively lean in, your fingers curling against his t shirt, your eyes searching his face, your lips hovering just inches away from his, and you could feel your chest rise and fall quicker than usual. the playful energy between you had faded, leaving only unspoken tension that had been brewing for weeks.

matt couldn’t help it, he wasn’t sure who moved first, but before his mind could even catch up to his body, he was pulling you closer, lips crashing against yours. the kiss started slow, hesitant at first, like neither of you wanted the moment to end, it was soft, your lips brushing together in a way that felt more like an invitation than an action. as the world around you completely faded, the kiss deepened, growing more desperate, as if you had both been waiting for this for a long time, and now that it had finally come, neither of you wanted to let go.

your hands find their way into his hair, tugging him closer. you could feel his heart pounding against yours, and he pulled you in tighter, deepening the kiss so it was slow and heavy. his hands finding their way to your ass, squeezing it lightly.

then, suddenly, the door swings open.

chris walks in abruptly, “matt, have you see—“ his voice cut off as he takes in the two of you, and he pauses, blinking in disbelief. “well, well…”

before matt could even react, chris was already calling down the hall. “nick! get in here, you gotta see this!”

[puma-riki]

⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆ 𝒜 𝐻 𝓊 𝓃 𝒹 𝓇 𝑒 𝒹 𝒮 𝓁 𝑒 𝑒 𝓅 𝓁 𝑒 𝓈 𝓈 𝒩 𝒾 𝑔 𝒽 𝓉 𝓈

۶ৎ ʟᴇᴇ ʜᴇᴇꜱᴇᴜɴɢ x ꜰᴇᴍ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

୨ৎ 𝒮 𝓎𝓃𝑜𝓅𝓈𝒾𝓈 ~ Heeseung accidentally lets his secret slip in his sleep

𖹭 𝒢 𝑒𝓃𝓇𝑒 ~ Fluff a smidge of angst

𖹭 𝒲 𝒶𝓇𝓃𝒾𝓃𝑔𝓈 ~ Not proofread Heeseung has a bit of self-doubt (just a lil)

𖹭 𝒜 𝓊𝓉𝒽𝑜𝓇𝓈 𝒩 𝑜𝓉𝑒 ~ take this draft while I work on the next riki smau update. The next update is written so if it's not perfect I can't post it BEAR WITH ME. I got this idea from a TikTok abt ppls fiancée's being incredibly nervous before proposing and being painfully obvious about it LMAO

── .✦

Heeseung was exhausted.

He trudged through the door of your apartment, the door clicking shut behind him with a soft thud. The weight of the day pressed on his shoulders like a lead cloak he couldn't shrug off. His muscles ached from the hours of dance practice, and his throat was raw from recording in the studio. Even though the day had been long, his mind wasn't on the new choreography or the endless takes of content they had filmed.

It was on you.

As he slipped off his shoes at the door and padded into your room, his thoughts swirled. The small velvet box in his bag felt heavier than it should, tucked carefully between a change of clothes, and a water bottle. He dropped the bag onto the floor by the nightstand, staring at it for a moment before carefully pulling out the box.

He opened it, letting the dim light of the room catch the sparkle of the diamond. It sparkled like a fragment of a star

Is this enough?

The question struck him like it had every night since he bought the ring. Heeseung thumbed the velvet edges of the box, chewing on the inside of his cheek.

You're going to say yes... right?

He closed the box with a snap, shaking his head to clear the self-doubt. Heeseung loved you more than anything and he wanted this moment to be perfect for you-- a story you'd both tell for years. But as much as he tried, nothing felt good enough.

His mind replayed the day's events as he stepped in the shower, hoping the warm water would wash away his worries. Hours spent perfecting choreography, filming promotional content with the guys, then heading straight to the studio to work on their upcoming track. By the time they had wrapped up, it was already close to midnight. He'd pushed himself through the day, fueled by a mix of adrenaline and nerves, but as he went through his nighttime routine alone in your apartment, he felt the exhaustion set in.

Still, his thoughts were restless. He had written about a million things he could say to you, to lay his heart bare in front of you, and none of them felt right. His notes app was flooded with scrapped speeches and unfinished confessions.

You deserved a proposal straight out of a movie. Everything down to the time he popped the question, had to be perfect. He thought about proposing on New year's, but was he about to share what was supposed to be your guy's day with the whole world?

Absolutely not.

The place had to be stunning. Should he take you to dinner? One of the really fancy and expensive ones? Maybe not, that was too cliche.

The place you first met? Or maybe on a beach? No, it was too cold for the beach around this time of year. You'd probably like a smaller and more intimate place anyway.

But the scariest part was this:

Would you even say yes?

He was ready to wife you up the moment you laughed at one of his dumb jokes-- one that wasn't even funny-- and then you told him he was stupid right after, but you said it in a way that gave him heartburn.

He was ready, but are you? Did you even think he was husband material?

He had reached out to your family after he bought the ring. The gentlemanly thing to do was to get permission from your parents before he asked, of course, he would've married you whether they gave him permission to or not. They were enthusiastic about it. They had been sending him praise and encouragement over the phone since he last called, saying you'd definitely say yes and more than happy.

But they weren't you.

Heeseung groaned and covered his face with the towel he'd been using to dry his hair. He needed to go to bed.

Now showered and dressed in pajama pants and a sleep shirt, he tucked himself under the cool covers of the bed. Your side was empty, and he didn't like how cold it felt. He checked his phone.

1:03 AM

You had told him earlier today that you would be out late with your friends. Much to his disappointment, he would have to go to bed alone. He'd be asleep when you got home and probably be up before you for work.

Heeseung put his phone down on the nightstand to charge and turned to your side of the bed. His eyelids felt heavy, and his worries and doubts were starting to become muffled as he sank into the plush mattress.

--

1:47 AM

You quietly crept into your bedroom, heels in hand to make sure you made as little sound as possible. The apartment was quiet, save for the hum of the air conditioner and the steady rhythm of Heeseung's breathing. You glance over at the bed. He left his bedside lamp on, something he usually does when he knows you'll be coming home late. He's sprawled out on the bed, one arm thrown over his face as if shielding himself from dreams.

Your heart melts at the sight and a soft smile tugs at your lips as you move to the bathroom. The night had been fun, filled with laughter and stories from her friends, but this moment was your favorite part of the day. When you come home to Heeseung.

Once you freshen up, rid of makeup, and your pretty (but uncomfortable after a few hours) outfit, you turn off the bedside lamp and slide into bed carefully.

The mattress dipped under your weight as you tried to move as slow as possible to not wake him, although you knew how deep he slept after long days like this. Your gaze fell on him again, the dim light from the bustling city behind your window, casting a faint light on his face.

You reached out, fingers brushing back the hair that had fallen into his eyes. His chest rose and fell steadily and his body felt warm against yours as you moved closer. His face looked so soft, peaceful in sleep. His lips form a small pout as his cheek lays snugly against the pillow. A pout makes its way onto your face as you trace your thumb over the heavy shadows under his eyes.

Heeseung was always working hard. A little too hard. You could feel the stress radiating off of him the past 2 weeks. You'd boiled it down to him wanting to perform well with their packed schedule. Which is what it usually was, but you had heard that the group was doing just fine balancing everything and had every song and dance down to a T.

There was something else lingering on Heeseung's mind and you couldn't quite figure out what.

"My hard-working man," You murmur, hand resting on his cheek. "You need to rest more." You murmured again under your breath, squishing his cheeks gently between your fingers. He let out a soft snore in response, and you giggled, the cuteness aggression bubbling up inside you.

As you pulled your hand back, he stirred.. "Mmm... perfect." he mumbled, his voice thick with sleep.

You froze, stifling a laugh. "What's that, Hee?"

"...perfect... has to be perfect..."

You blinked, leaning in closer. "What has to be perfect, baby?" You whispered, brushing your fingers along his temple.

"...proposal.." he muttered, his brows furrowing slightly. "I dunno... if the rings enough... dunno if she'll like it.."

Your breath caught, eyes widening as you realized what he was saying. A flush crept up your cheeks, and you lips curled into a soft smile. "Oh, Heeseung," You murmured, voice barely audible. You seriously wanted to smother him he was so cute.

"She deserves the best... better than me..." His words slurred together, his hand that was resting on your pillow twitching slightly.

Your chest ached at the vulnerability in his voice, even in sleep. You grabbed his twitching hand and held it in yours, placing a kiss on the knuckle of his ring finger. Your thumb gently stroked his skin as you whispered, "You're already the best, silly. Nothing else matters"

"...What if she says.. no"

The words were so soft, almost a whisper, but they broke your heart a little. You leaned in, pressing a kiss to his forehead as you blinked back small tears that were starting to form. "You're such an idiot," you whispered against his skin. "I'd say yes to you a hundred times over."

Heeseung sighed in his sleep, his body relaxing against your touch. You laughed quietly to yourself, shaking your head. "My hard-working, overthinking man," Wrapping your arms around him and holding him close to your chest.

5:13 AM

Heeseung stirs awake, the soft morning light filtering through the curtains and painting the room in a golden glow. He blinks a few times, his eyes adjusting to the light, only to find you already awake and tracing the bridge of his nose with your pointer finger.

"Hi," he mumbled, his voice raspy with sleep.

"Hi," Your voice was so quiet, he would've missed it if he wasn't so close to you. A small grin formed on his face as his arm snaked around your waist, pulling you closer to him. "Were you watching me in my sleep, you weirdo?"

You smiled softly, a quiet laugh threatening to fall from your lips. "Maybe, You're cute when you're asleep."

"Oh, yeah?" Heeseung smirked, his hand slipping under your shirt to pinch your side, earning a squeal from you. "And what about when I'm awake?"

You squirmed in his hold, laughter spilling out of you as you tried to push his cold hand away from you," You're quite annoying actually."

"Rude." He mumbled, relenting and holding you tight against his chest. The warmth of his body and the steady beat of his heart grounded you, your earlier excitement now mingling with contentment.

"Why are you awake so early?" he asked, pressing his chin lightly to the top of your head as he began to play with the ends of your hair.

You shrugged, trying to act casual. "I couldn't sleep."

"Couldn't sleep?" Heeseung echoed, his fingers absent mindedly tracing patterns on your back, "Why not?"

"Just... thinking," You murmured, your cheeks warming at the memory of his sleep-talking confession just hours earlier.

He hummed, though his curiosity didn't press. The comfortable silence stretched between you until his voice broke it.

"Hey,"

"Hm?"

"If you could go anywhere in the world, where would you want to go?"

You pulled back just enough to meet his gaze, your face thoughtful for a moment as you looked off to the side and pursed your lips.

Cute.

Your face softened into a smile as your eyes met his. For a moment, his wide, doe-like eyes shimmered, gazing at you as if you had taken the night sky and laid it at his feet

"Anywhere, as long as I'm with you."

Heeseung blinked, his eyes wide for a split second before he let out a soft laugh, his hand coming up to squish your cheeks.

"You're so corny."

"Hey, you asked," You shot back, though your grin only widened when he leaned in to press a kiss to your forehead. Then your nose. Then your cheek and your jaw.

"I could also see you blushing" You giggled, face scrunched as he pressed another kiss to your cheek.

"Mmm.. I wasn't blushing." He mumbled into your cheek. His arm holding you impossibly closer to him.

"Yes, you were," You laughed, trying to squirm out of his hold again.

"Prove it then." He challenged pulling away from your face and holding your head close to his neck to prevent you from seeing his face.

"Hey!" Your protests came muffled against his skin and the pillow.

"Shhh, go back to sleep." You roll your eyes but give up anyway. The position you were in was comfortable and heeseung's warmth made your eyelids grow heavy.

"Hey, how do you feel about beaches in the winter?"

𝐏𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 (𝐎𝐩𝐞𝐧!)ᯓ★ | @jiiyen @yangjungwonnie @amoressb @sugarikiz @stvrriki

Send and ask or comment on any post of mine to be added to my permanent taglist >:3

𝐍𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐠𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧ᯓ★

[bringbackmaes14]

Ish? I mean the short answer is yes. I have a stepmom because my dad started dating her when I was 8 and they got married when I was 11 and they're still married over a decade later.

The more complicated answer is that it's weird to think of her as a stepmom? We've literally always called her our stepmom. My dad and my mom and multiple other adults have referred to her as such. But:

I've always called her by her first name; never mom or any variation of it. I know a lot of people do that with their stepparents but to me that just made it harder to cement her as a parent figure in my mind. Especially since I've got so many godparents that I call Aunt/Uncle [first name] and I've been referring to my actual blood aunts and uncles by their first names since I was like 17 (not to their faces, but in conversation with other people)

She never really acted like a parent? She made dinner and took care of the house and worked and provided our health insurance (still does that last one tbh) but when it came to guiding us through our growing up years and protecting us from our dad's abusive tendencies she just... didn't do anything? She was there to have fun with us and to be married to our dad (and honestly I don't know why bc it's not like he's gorgeous or wealthy or some bleeding-heart generous activist).

She told my siblings and I that we were her one chance at being a mom because she couldn't have any of her own and dad absolutely did not want to adopt after already having 4 bio kids that he supposedly cared about 2 weekends a month, so I know she considered herself to be in the stepmom role compared to myself and my siblings, but honestly she always kinda felt like a fun aunt or a much older sister.

And I mean ultimately I'm estranged from my dad and trying to cut him off completely and the only reason I'm hanging onto him by a thread is because my stepmom provides my health insurance and it's really good health insurance and I'm chronically ill, but that being said I barely see my dad and stepmom, and once I'm at the point where I legally have to get my own health insurance is when I'll cut them off. That or after my stepmom's funeral, whichever comes first (she has stage 3 or 4 (I don't remember which) breast cancer). Because I would most likely go to my stepmom's funeral. Regardless of whether I view her as a stepmom or fun aunt or whatever, I do love her. I just wanna stay as far away from my dad as possible at all times and they're a package deal so it's always a struggle :/

We ask your questions anonymously so you don’t have to! Submissions are open on the 1st and 15th of the month.

[s-brant]

Downburst

Trapped in King’s Landing with the Greens as they plot the usurpation after Viserys’s death, Y/N must navigate the fragile line between her loyalty to her husband and her contempt for his family. (or judas part six).

13k (18+)

Warnings: sexual content, strong language, fluff, angst, and death.

Y/N has been trapped in her and Aemond's bedchamber for hours.

No one has come to see her except for Nyla, her favorite handmaiden. Despite her pleas to the guard stationed outside her door, she is met with outright refusal to see her weeks-old daughter. There isn't much for her to do except pace around the room and nervously ramble to Nyla about what may be happening. In the past six hours, she has bathed, dressed, styled her hair, finished the blanket she was making for the babe before her labors began, and read a few pages of the book Aemond left on the table.

The braids secured to her head in complicated patterns keep her hair half-up, half-down and out of the way as she leans down to pick up a box of old letters from her parents. In this time of uncertainty, she seeks comfort in the love of those who brought her into the world. The letters date as far back as the first day she spent without them in King's Landing as a wife. The first one is from Rhaenyra, ever the attentive mother no matter how old her first and only daughter becomes.

She rifles through them until she finds the most recent one from Daemon. It is dated a fortnight before she gave birth and, as always, written in the family's native tongue to keep it from being read if it ended up in the wrong hands.

"Ñuha dōna riña,

Aōha muña vestās bona kesā rhaenagon sikagon aderī. Lo jaelā īlva naejot sagon paktot ao syt bisa, ao jorrāelagon mērī epagon. Aōha valzȳrys sȳrkta jurnegon tolī ao. Lo ziry gaomas daor, jikagon udir naejot Zaldrīzesdōron se kesan sōvegon bē Caraxes gō se vēzos ropagon ezīmagon se embar. Ao gīmigon iksan daor hae sacchārine hae Rhaenyra, yn gaoman bōsa naejot ūndegon ao arlī. Nyke krenyikhé umbagon syt se māzigon hen ñuha ēlī—"

"My sweet girl,

Your mother told me that you will begin your labors soon. If you want us to be beside you for this, you need only ask. Your husband best look after you. If he does not, send word to Dragonstone, and I will fly upon Caraxes before the sun falls into the sea. You know I am not as sentimental as Rhaenyra, but I do long to see you again. I gladly await the arrival of my first—"

The doors to their chambers are flung open, but the person who walks in is not the one she had hoped to see all day.

Seeing Alicent stride into their chambers, with the doors closing quickly behind her to prevent escape, makes her heart sink into her abdomen. Still, she refuses to accept this as defeat. She rises from her chair, holds her shoulders back with her chin high, and clenches her hands into fists at her sides. As far as she is concerned, this is an act of war. To imprison her in her own home...it is unthinkable.

Before the Queen can get a word in, Y/N asks in a sharp tone, "Where is my daughter?"

The sigh that Alicent lets out threatens to boil her blood.

"Please, you know that I of all people would never allow anything to happen to one of my grandchildren. So, if you fear she's been mistreated in any way—"

"She has been mistreated," the younger royal counters, taking a couple of steps forward to confront her face-to-face. "She is a weeks-old babe being kept from her mother against her will. Every pleading request I screamed through this door for her to be brought to me was met with silence and inaction. So, I beg of you, abandon the pretense. You are usurping my mother's throne and keeping my daughter as leverage for your cause."

This makes Alicent to stop for a moment.

The red-haired beauty takes this as an opportunity to steel herself for the arduous conversation ahead. Her palm flattens against the side of her green dress to soak up some sweat before she brings her hands together in front of herself, picking at her cuticles in a repetitive, compulsive manner.

"I know you will likely not believe what I have to say, but I have love for you. You are your mother's daughter. In a way, you are now my daughter too, I suppose. As you know, Rhaenyra and I were once the closest of friends. I myself said she'd make a fine queen the night my husband betrothed you to Aemond..." She trails off, looking down at the floor for a second before looking back up. "But I spoke with Viserys last night before he died in his sleep, and he spoke Aegon's name. He wanted him to be king, and I see no other choice but to honor his dying wish."

Y/N's face twists into an expression of bewilderment.

"You cannot believe that," she says. "My grandsire dragged himself, wheezing and weak on his deathbed, to his throne to declare for my mother as heir."

The two women stand across from one another, bisected by the window on the wall opposite the entrance that overlooks the courtyard, and neither wavers. Despite the turbulent emotions that dwell within them, they manage to stand strong against the tide of change cresting over them. With her pale hair styled as it is, the younger Targaryen princess reminds Alicent of her dear friend from many years ago. Time has changed both her and Rhaenyra, physically and spiritually, so she accepted that she would never have her closest companion back. Not in the way she had her as a girl. But when she looks at Rhaenyra's daughter, she almost sees her again. Almost.

It is for this reason alone that her demeanor softens as she walks forward to take Y/N's hand and speak to her once more.

"You may believe what you wish. I cannot take that from you, but whether you think it is right or not, Aegon will be crowned." There is a hesitant pause. "And you should consider yourself lucky I will not let my father get to him first. He'll advise Aegon to commit horrific acts of violence to protect his claim to the throne...Once he is found and brought to me, however, I will urge him to be merciful toward your mother, father, and brothers. They will be offered generous terms and need only bend the knee."

For a moment, she thinks she may have gotten through to Y/N. There is no discernible expression on her face other than shock, and she does not smack Alicent's hand where it squeezes hers.

Then, her features sour. Although she does not drop the hand entwined in hers, she does not hold it either. Her fingers turn lifeless and limp in Alicent's grasp.

"My father will never bend the knee to Aegon, and I do not know if Jacaerys will either. There is no such thing as mercy when dragons battle dragons. It is proven in Valyrian history, yet it seems that will become inevitable."

Unable to deny what she has said, too far gone in a mess of her father's making, Alicent lets loose a soft, tired sigh and gently releases her hands.

"Perhaps your father could be persuaded if he were under the assumption that you declare for Aegon as the true king at his coronation for the sake of keeping the peace. It will be witnessed by hundreds of the smallfolk on the morrow."

"And if I refuse? I would wager that I am worth more to you as a prisoner than I am hanged for so-called treason."

"You are my son's wife, a princess; you will not be a prisoner—"

Y/N cuts her off, her voice raising to a shout, "Then let me out!"

The moment of quiet that follows is charged with an energy too powerful for either of them to ignore. As Y/N's purple irises flare with a temper reminiscent of Rhaenyra's unyielding passion and Daemon's cold, seething rage, Alicent stands still before her. It is now that both women realize that nothing they say will change the other's mind. Despite the fondness they have genuinely formed through the marriage to Aemond, they now find themselves on opposite sides of the coming battle.

Picking at her nails again, Alicent speaks, and a sense of finality can be heard in her tone.

"My father would have me keep your babe from you until you agree to bend the knee. I, however, being a mother, find that too harsh. She will be brought to you within the hour, but you are not free to leave yet."

She turns on her heels and strides for the ornately carved doors, knocking to get the attention of the guard on the other side.

At the last moment, she cranes her neck to meet Y/N's eyes once more and says, "You will be at Aegon's coronation, standing beside your husband without protest."

A second later, the doors close behind her and lock the princess inside.

The babe has yet to stop crying.

All that can be heard in the bedchamber are the shrill wails of the infant girl brought to her hours ago by Nyla. It is bound to drive her insane. It does not matter what she does—feeding her, changing her, rocking or shushing her—nothing will suffice. Her head throbs from the mixture of stress and irritation. With one arm, she bounces Daenaera. With the other, she rubs the side of her head with her fingertips to keep the ache at bay. It doesn't work, however, and she is left with a pounding sensation in her skull that refuses to relent.

"Please, my love," she whispers in a soothing tone, "Muña iksis kesīr." Mother is here. "I may be frightened, but nothing will harm you under my watch."

The moment the last word escapes her lips, they are both surprised by the sound of the doors opening for a second time today.

Y/N, having just sworn to protect her daughter, quickly stands from the couch she had been sitting on uncomfortably to prepare herself. But there is no need. A glance at his face is all it takes for her to start walking across the room with tears flooding her eyes and the babe cradled against her chest.

"Aemond!" she calls out to him.

His eye hesitates for a second to raise and meet her gaze, but it does. Regardless of the emotions running rampant through him, the sight of her in tears is one he cannot ignore. Swiftly, they meet one another across the middle of the room, and he takes her into his arms without uttering a word. When she settles into his embrace, he can feel her trembling. All of that bravado his mother spoke of when she pulled him aside to inform him of their conversation is nowhere to be found. It only took one glance at him for her to let herself break apart.

And now, gently pressed between her parents, Daenaera's cries start to dwindle into a soft sniffling. For the first time in hours, both of his girls have found a moment of peace in his arms.

"I woke up, and you were gone!" Y/N exclaims between sobs. "They locked me in here and refused to let me see her."

"My mother said—"

"Your mother has gotten what she has always wanted, it seems." The words are harsh, but when she pulls away to look up at his face, her teary-eyed stare does not match them. "Even so, if it wasn't for her, Otto would have ensured that I be kept prisoner from our daughter until I bent the knee to Aegon and sent a raven urging my family to do the same."

His body turns stiff and still at this, and his face, as softened with emotion as he is capable of expressing, displays an unhinged ferocity that could frighten even the bravest of men.

"She did not tell me that."

Every word is said carefully, as if he fears speaking his mind too freely in front of her after all that has transpired since they last saw each other. It is clear that his grandsire has committed a grave error in holding their daughter against her will to sway Y/N's mind, but that is all she can gather, and it unsettles her. It took a long time, but he has become accustomed to sharing his thoughts and feelings with her. Since she found out she was with child, their relationship has blossomed into something neither of them could have seen coming. Something beautiful and rare in a realm where most noble women are content to be sold off by their fathers for the sake of survival.

Pushing this aside for now, she speaks in a quiet, eerily calm tone he recognizes well.

"If she is ever taken from me again, I will kill them all. I swear this to you." The look in her eye is crazed and wild, the reaction of a mother lashing out to protect her child. Not once does she let him escape her stare. "I'll leave with her on dragonback if I must."

"You will not leave with her."

It is an order, not a request. In any other moment, she would protest the notion that he has any authority over her, but she is too perplexed to speak right now. Thankfully, she does not need to. Instead, she watches him closely and tries to read him as he mulls it over in his head. After a moment, he shakes his head and tightens the grip of the hand resting on her waist.

"There will be no reason to...Leave Otto to me."

He is already pulling back to leave and confront his grandsire for what he has done, but the feeling of her hand around his wrist halts him before any distance can be made. With his back to her, he intends to yank himself out of her grasp, but then she yells at him. Somehow, her words manage to melt through his cold exterior and bring him back from the precipice of madness.

"No, don't leave us! She needs you!"

After a moment, the sound of Daenaera's slowed cries finally outmatches the ringing in his ears. Another couple of seconds pass, and he takes a heavy breath to steady himself before turning to face them. What he sees causes him to let loose a heavy breath. Tears shine in his dear wife's eyes as she holds their babe flush against her body with trembling hands. Her arms are so sore from bouncing and rocking the child all day that she can hardly stand it any longer.

Knowing this, Aemond reaches out and takes their daughter from her arms without hesitation. She squirms and coos at first, startled by the sudden movement, but calms down the second she realizes who is holding her. Still, he mutters sweet nothings against her head in Valyrian, inhaling the distinct, clean scent that somehow only infants have.

When his eye finds hers again, the first tear has fallen off her chin.

"And so do I," she says.

The hand hanging at his side raises to cup her face and wipe away the tracks of tears sliding down her rosy cheeks with his thumb. His touch is ever so slight, like a feather brushing against her skin. It is contrary to how he typically handles her with confidence and bold familiarity but welcome nonetheless.

"You have me," he responds, and he says it so softly, so gently, that she starts to believe it. In the face of everything that has happened and now will happen, she remains blinded by her devotion to him. "Kesā va moriot emagon nyke." You will always have me.

Y/N smiles through her tears, and Aemond is once again stunned by the fact that there is nothing that can make her appear less than perfect for him. She is pretty even when she cries. Yet, the tender moment is soon interrupted by her need for answers.

"Where did you go today? If you didn't know what was going on here, you must have been elsewhere."

In lieu of answering her question, he first decides to find a place to sit before starting this conversation. It would be awkward, he thinks, to stand here holding the babe while he debriefs her on the mission his mother sent him on this morning. He decides that the couch will do just fine, turning and walking toward it with one arm holding Daenaera and the other hand guiding Y/N.

After settling down on the couch, Aemond's hand finds its way to her waist. He pulls her close until she is pressed up to his side. The touch of his rough hand against her body is both comforting and familiar, his grasp on her almost desperate...as if he cannot bear to let her go. In one arm, he holds his wife. In the other, he holds his daughter.

There's a tense moment of silence, then he speaks. His voice is low, tinged with a hint of frustration.

"Mother sent me on an errand," he explains. "I left you to train with Cole as I do every day, but she had the guards intercept me on my walk to the yard. Father died, and, of course, Aegon was nowhere to be found. If anything can be counted upon, it is his appetite for fucking disease-ridden whores in Fleabottom rather than remaining with his wife and children for any longer than he's required."

She swallows thickly as he speaks, her hand braced against her chest. What she is bracing for, she does not know, but with all that has transpired today, she refuses to lower her guard. As much as she wants to have hope, to look on the bright side of things, she knows she must prepare herself for the cold bite of reality.

Aemond can feel her tension secondhand—a coiled rope ready to snap at the slightest pull of the thread that holds it together. He is painfully aware of how much he mislikes seeing her in distress. To see her bright, lively eyes dimmed by worry does little to mollify the anger that still roils within him from the thought of their babe being kept from her all day. To imagine the sound of Daenaera crying, her shrill wails piercing the ears of the handmaidens when all she wanted was to be with her mother...

"Go on," she says.

The expression on her face is unable to be read despite his best efforts. Yet, even as she forces a neutral expression, her body language tells a different story. Her shoulders are taut, her back straight, and her hands tightly clenched in her lap.

"I was sent to find Aegon," he says, his voice soft yet somehow firm. "Mother feared that Otto might find him first and urge him to put Rhaenyra and all of her heirs to the sword without offering a chance to bend the knee." As he emphasizes the word "all," he looks into her eyes, and for the first time in years, she sees fear when she meets his gaze. "I know it was not easy for you to stay here, alone, but if I did not find him first..."

One of the hands clenched into a fist on her lap reaches out to touch him, offering a sense of comfort as she rubs his back in a repetitive, soothing motion.

"Your grandsire would have me killed?" she finishes for him. "So he can hold our daughter hostage her entire life and indoctrinate her into supporting Aegon's claim?"

His eye is overflowing with a storm of emotions, a tumultuous mix of fear and madness. But when her hand finds its way to his back, his muscles involuntarily start to relax, the tension unknotting under her healing touch.

He nods carefully, and the act of doing so makes the words all the more real. "Yes," he says. "Now that my mother has gotten to Aegon first, it seems he intends to use our girl to ensure your compliance rather than strike you down outright."

"That much I gathered myself," she says sharply, then shakes her head in disbelief. A second later, she continues to prod him for answers. "So you found Aegon, then?"

"Yes," he replies. His hand clutches at the soft fabric of the couch as he speaks, his knuckles turning white with the force of his grip. He found his brother, but what good is that when the fate of his wife and daughter hangs in the balance? "I did. Otto sent Erryk and Arryk to find him. Find him, they did. Before they could bring him back, we saw Aegon running from the Sept. It took little effort to catch him while Cole kept the guards busy."

There's nothing she can do to soothe herself but take Daenaera from his arms and hold on tightly. Her tiny head is supported in the bend of her arm, and the little girl does not protest. Her father is still close enough for her to remain calm and satisfied.

He opens his eye and looks at her, his gaze intense beneath his brow.

"We brought him back to Alicent. She's having him locked in his chambers till morning," he explains, his eye boring into hers. "It will happen, ābrazȳrys." Wife. "Any chance of stopping it is gone...Aegon will be king. The best you can do is comply."

The words make her sick to her stomach.

Everything she has always feared is coming to fruition, and here she is, powerless in every conceivable way. Every word, every breath, every move she makes will be watched as long as she remains in the Keep. There will be no freedom, she realizes. Soon, this room will be her prison for the rest of her life. Never again will she soar the skies on dragonback and savor the cold wind against her face. Never again will she return to Dragonstone to kiss her mother and embrace her father. Her heart breaks at the thought of not being able to see her brothers again. If she had known what would happen, she would have spent far more time with them when they visited.

Her eyes glaze over at this point, her gaze far away and hazy. She is looking right through him.

His gaze softens when he catches sight of the discomfort on her pretty face. He reaches out and takes her hand in his, his fingers wrapping around hers with a tenderness that is so unlike him when it comes to anyone but her. He lifts her hand to his mouth and brushes a kiss over each of her knuckles. Then, he brings her hand against him, her palm over his chest, to feel the heavy beat of his heart in the hope that it may snap her out of her thoughts.

"It will be alright," he says even though he does not know if it's true.

Aemond brings his other hand up to cup her face, his thumb tracing over her cheek. If he could, he would take her away from all of this. To a world where it is just the three of them—him, her, and the babe. But he can't. For now, all he can do is offer her the comfort of her husband's presence. At least she knows that no harm will befall her as long as she remains by his side.

"Listen to me," he whispers, his voice stern in a way that instinctively compels her to hear him out. "You will attend the coronation at my side. You will do so not out of loyalty to Aegon but out of loyalty to me."

Tears well up in her eyes at the mere thought of betraying her mother, even if the support she will be showing is feigned, and she starts to shake her head as she cries.

"No." She tries to scoot away from him with the babe still cradled in her arm. "My love, I cannot. I cannot! Please, I want to go home! To Dragonstone! I want my mother—"

"Enough!"

His voice is sharper than the swift crack of a whip. The forcefulness of it makes her freeze, her body running cold as her instincts tell her to obey. He has commanded her with that same tone a few other times throughout their marriage, but never has it felt so chilling. If she didn't know any better, she would mistake that feeling in the pit of her abdomen for fear. Not of the unimaginable situation at hand but of him.

For all she talks, she crumbles beneath the pressure behind closed doors and calls for her mother like a frightened little girl.

"You will not leave my side," he all but growls the words.

His hand still grasps her face, his fingers digging deep into her skin. Of course, he never wants to hurt her, not if he can help it, but he refuses to let her withdraw.

"Cry if you must," he tells her. "I will not leave you here alone. Mourn tonight. On the morrow, you must pretend. You cannot let anyone other than myself see you this way. Do you understand?"

"No! I most certainly do not understand, Aemond! How can you ask this of me? How can you ask me to stand there and do nothing as they place my mother's crown—my birthright—upon his head?"

She continues to try and pull away from him, her body caving in on itself with sobs, but he holds her tighter the more she resists.

"Calm yourself," he warns her.

He has never seen her like this—broken and weeping and weak. It is jarring to see her so far removed from the willful woman he married. The woman who held a knife to his throat with a promise to kill the last time he laid a hand on her younger brother. He has never seen her this way and prays he never will again, not only for her sake but for his. To see her suffer is utter agony. It's not something he thinks he can endure more than this one time.

He threads his fingers through the overgrown strands of her silver hair, wrapping his arm around her shoulders. He lowers his voice, speaking as softly as he can to her now that he has taken a moment to compose himself.

"You have to think about Daenaera," he says, his mouth against her hair. "You are her mother. She comes before all else. She is your duty."

The sudden reminder of their daughter has the effect he intended. Her body goes still, the sobs that were tearing through her beginning to quiet. His fingers run through her hair repeatedly in an attempt to soothe her, and it seems to work. At least for the time being.

She goes silent for a long time, her breath ragged and uneven against his chest. When she finally speaks, her voice breaks from the endless sobs that have plagued her since she woke this morning.

"I don't know if I can..."

Aemond simply says, "You must."

For the duration of the jolting carriage ride to the Dragonpit, Y/N sits in silence with Aemond on her right side and Helaena to her left.

The only indicator of her emotions that he can pick up on is how she nervously twists her wedding band around her left ring finger, toying with it incessantly to give herself something to do in a moment where she is powerless. If not for her unwavering faith in Nyla, he would not have been able to convince her to leave their daughter behind for the sake of attending the coronation.

Not even his best attempts at placating her worked. It was only when the plain-featured, frail servant girl walked up to her, took her hands in hers, and promised her the babe would never leave her arms that she allowed the others to help her dress. And that was another battle entirely—the dress.

As he looks her up and down out of the corner of his eye, he must clench his jaw in frustration.

The only gown she would wear is, unsurprisingly, black. The neckline is embroidered with threads of red and gold hues, and the bodice covered in pieces of fabric fashioned to appear as dragon scales. The same unflinching tenacity that allowed him to fall for her now smacks him across the face, and he cannot be mad at her for it. In some twisted fashion, it endears her to him further. To see that she is not so easily conquered, not willing to go down without a fight, makes his stomach flutter like it had the night of their wedding. Even when it is he and his family that she opposes, he cannot help but admire her refusal to surrender.

Out of the blue, as though she has read his mind, Helaena speaks in her typical soft and whimsical tone.

"I quite like your dress. Dragon scales..." A small smile crosses her face, then she says a bit more resolutely than before, "Beware the beast beneath the boards."

Unsure of how to respond, especially seeing that most of the family ignores the strange things Helaena says from time to time, Y/N simply nods and reaches to entwine their hands.

"Thank you, sister," she whispers. "And I shall."

Before Aemond can warn her not to do so, to tell Y/N that she does not like to be touched and often flinches from physical contact, Helaena's smile widens a little as she allows her hand to be held. If he hadn't found his wife's existence confounding already, this would do the trick. He may never come to understand how, but she has a way with people and things that he does not. Mayhaps it is a blessing from the Gods. As if her beauty, wit, and strong heart were not blessings enough.

Before he knows it, the carriage comes to a gentle halt, and he is brought back from his thoughts by the sound of the smallfolk chattering within and beyond the walls of the Dragonpit.

As Helaena is aided in stepping out of the carriage, Y/N turns to him and says quietly, "I will comply. Not because I believe Aegon to be the true heir. Not because I want to. Not because I am not angry with your mother for supplanting mine own as heir. But because I love you."

This vulnerable admission makes him falter for a second, his frustration melting and his harsh features softening. It's the first time she has said it like that. She has called him "my love" many times, but this is the first time she has said those three words.

"I know..." he whispers, not quite ready to say it back.

All she can manage is a nod in his direction before she is ushered from the safety of the carriage by members of the Kingsguard.

Aemond follows closely behind her, his hand hovering over the pommel of his sword like a hound ready to attack as they are escorted into the Dragonpit. While they make their way through the room, following behind the rest of his family, he notes how the smallfolk stare at his wife with expressions of shock and awe. Their gazes linger, and whispers fill the air as they watch her walk through the parted crowd, the sun shining against her from behind to set her silver hair aflame.

The second he stares back at them, their eyes avert to the floor in what most would assume is a display of respect for the Gods that walk among men. A sign that years of propaganda intended to keep those with the blood of the dragon on a pedestal above the rest has worked. In truth, Aemond in particular falls victim to the illusion of Targaryen exceptionalism more so than his wife, but it does not blind him to the fact that these people in particular are not avoiding his gaze out of respect. They do it out of fear, and he cannot deny the sick sense of pleasure it gives him to witness that.

Quicker than she anticipated, they reach the platform where Otto, Alicent, Cole, and Helaena await their arrival, and Aemond silently offers his hand to her once they reach the small set of stairs leading up. She takes his hand gratefully and prays it may steady her for the nauseating turn of events that have come to pass. At the last step, his grip on her hand loosens like he intends to let go, but she does not let him. Her fingers, adorned with rings in a fashion reminiscent of her mother, close tightly around his as their hands fall back to their sides.

Even after they fall into place, standing in a line alongside his family, she does not let go of his hand.

Aemond's eye flits down to their joined hands, fighting the urge to raise his brows in surprise at the display she is giving everyone. Yet he does not pull his hand away. Instead, he gives hers a comforting squeeze.

As his gaze moves from their hands to her face, he notices the tightness in her clenched jaw and the tension in her stiff posture. He knows she is struggling to maintain her composure, to keep herself in one piece in the face of what might as well be the end of the world as she knows it. But he also knows that she is strong, fiercely so, and not so easily defeated.

Otto begins a speech to the people once they've all settled, his voice echoing in the wide-open walls of the room.

"Today is the saddest of days!" he shouts. "Our beloved king, Viserys the Peaceful, is dead!"

The sounds of shock and sorrow that reverberate through the room in the second after it is announced are surprisingly filled with emotion—as if these people knew him personally.

"But it is also the most joyous of days. For as his spirit left us, he whispered his final wish that his firstborn son, Aegon, should succeed him."

Otto's last few words act as a cue for the fanfare to begin and the guards to raise their swords together as they part the crowd, clearing a path for the soon-to-be king. Across the wide-open interior of the Dragonpit, sudden movement catches her eye from where she stands atop the platform. True to her word, she does not balk at the sight of Aegon appearing at the entrance to the room. Passing beneath the raised swords, he looks ahead with a blank expression in his eyes.

"It is your great good fortune and privilege to be here to witness this. A new day for our city. A new day for our realm. A new king to lead us."

Her hand does not grip Aemond's tighter, nor does it let go as they watch her eldest uncle make his way through the crowd acting like he is walking to his death. One would think he's to meet the hangman's noose atop this platform. It takes everything in her not to scoff at his attitude. Grandsire and mother dearest have placed him upon the Iron Throne, and he can't even pretend to care. Beside her, she knows that her husband is tense with anticipation of her doing or saying something, but she minds herself. She tries her best to be an obedient little wife, a puppet dancing on strings held tightly in the grasp of Ser Otto Hightower, and it is difficult.

Finally, Aegon has ascended the stairs to join them.

He comes to a natural stop before his mother, and she gently takes his face in her soft hands, guiding his head down until she places a kiss on the top of it. Once they have parted, all it takes is a firm look from Otto for him to sink to his knees with his back facing the crowd.

Septon Eunace is, of course, waiting for this moment. A moment that will surely go down in history, not as one of joy or triumph but of defeat. It signifies the end of a peaceful time. The reigns of both Jaehaerys and Viserys were without war and widespread destruction. The same cannot be said for what is to come.

Under her breath, she whispers, "Kostagon ñuha muña gūrogon arlī skoros iksis zȳhon lēda Perzys Ānogār." May my mother take back what is hers with fire and blood.

Aemond's posture stiffens at the sound of her quiet voice.

No one around them, save for Helaena, shall know what she just uttered except for him. Everyone else standing around them could not speak or understand the native language of their ancestors, and the crowd before them would not hear her even if she spoke in the common tongue. Few may have witnessed her moving lips, but only he hears her. Is it a threat or prayer? He does not know.

"May the Warrior give him courage," the Septon speaks aloud as he anoints Aegon with oil. "May the Smith lend strength to his sword and shield. May the Father defend him in his need. May the Crone lift her shining lamp and light his way to wisdom."

He then hands the bowl off to another in exchange for the crown. Not the crown of the conciliator. The crown of the Conqueror. Valyrian steel, fitted with a ruby at the center, gleams beneath the light as Septon Eunace takes the crown into his hands and turns to give it to Ser Criston Cole.

No doubt smug with the sweet taste of victory over her mother, Criston thrusts it into the air and declares, "The crown of the Conqueror, passed down through generations."

At the last moment, Y/N allows her hand to slip from her husband's clutches.

"Let the Seven bear witness," Criston proclaims as he lowers it onto Aegon's head. "Aegon Targaryen is the true heir to the Iron Throne."

With that, the young king, born anew beneath the weight of the steel sitting upon his brow, rises.

"All hail his Grace, Aegon, Second of his Name, King of the Andals and the Rhoynar and the First Men, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms and Protector of the Realm!"

The bells toll so loudly it threatens to rattle their teeth.

"Aegon the King!"

At first, there is silence, and everyone is unsure what to make of it. But then, most of the spectators packed too tightly into the room begin to applaud him. When he draws Blackfyre from its sheath, there is nothing Y/N can do but look ahead at those who cheer with tears shining in her eyes. To her left, she sees Alicent looking at her from the corner of her eye with a face of disappointment. Her stifled cries must have drawn her proud gaze away from her eldest son, now anointed before his subjects and crowned king.

"Worry not, child, he will spare your mother," Alicent whispers under her breath.

Before she can turn to watch her son raise his sword in triumph, Y/N says softly, but not weakly, "It is you who ought worry."

A look of horror flashes across Alicent's face.

The sound of the crowd roaring, chanting, and clapping for her son does little to distract her from the conviction with which those words were spoken. But she doesn't have the chance to respond. No, because the floor beneath the crowd explodes with a cloud of debris that hangs in the air and causes Y/N to stumble back in surprise.

She almost trips over her own feet, but a pair of strong hands quickly snatch up her waist to keep her upright. Her back hits his chest, a solid wall behind her that does not flinch at what she now realizes is a dragon bursting through the floor of the pit.

Aemond stands stock-still, his grip on her waist tight as the dust and debris settle. For a moment, his heart is in his throat, his mind fighting to process what just happened. And then, as the dust clears, he sees it—a dragon with crimson scales and copper horns. The beast shakes off the dirt and rubble, gazing around with a glare that promises violence should anyone dare to approach.

Before the rest of them can catch a glimpse of the woman perched in the saddle atop the she-dragon's back, his wife says with a wavering tone of shock, "Rhaenys..."

"Seize her!" Otto commands, pointing at Y/N.

Not willing to risk it, he has Ser Criston Cole haul her from her husband's arms and drag her up before Meleys—a shield to protect Alicent and King Aegon's fear-stricken forms from the threat of dragonflame. It is a stroke of genius that infuriates her equally as much as it impresses her. The only people left to keep Aemond from rushing after her are Septon Eunace and Otto himself, who manages well enough on his own to block him by ordering him to protect Queen Helaena.

Meleys advances until she is far too close and unleashes a furious roar that blows Y/N's hair off her shoulders. Still, she doesn't look away. She knows Rhaenys well enough to know that she will not slaughter them outright, especially not with her standing front and center.

The Queen Who Never Was remains silent when their gazes meet. She does not have to utter a word. Even with the smallfolk fleeing in terror for the doors to the Dragonpit and Otto screaming for them to be let out, everything is understood. Everything left unspoken can be felt like a current of energy buzzing between them, and the tears streaming down Y/N's cheeks are more powerful than words could ever be.

Then, as quickly as she burst through the floor, Meleys retreats, claws digging into the ground beneath her to help her turn around and take flight.

All they can hear over the sound of the injured and dying scattered across the broken floor is the sound of wings flapping in the sky.

Y/N picks at her lip as she sits outside the small council chamber six days after Aegon's coronation. It's easy to hear the muffled sound of voices within, but hearing what exactly they're saying proves to be a great deal more difficult.

The aftermath of what happened in the Dragonpit was chaotic. As soon as Meleys flew off, Aemond rushed from Helaena's side to where his wife stood before them all. Seeing that there were still people watching, he couldn't grab her face in his hands and pull her to him. Public displays of affection have never been his forte. At most, they hold hands or he keeps his hand on the small of her back as they walk. Ignoring the eyes that followed him with every step he took, he held both of her hands in his and looked her over to see if she was alright.

Knowing him too well, she said before he had the chance to ask, "I am unharmed." Her hands squeezed his. "Lykiri, ñuha zaldrīzes." Calm, my dragon.

The entire carriage ride back to the Keep, he did not let go of her. Sweet reassurances were whispered in her ear—in Valyrian, of course, to prevent Aegon from overhearing and taunting him for it later—and she managed to stop crying after a few moments.

Once they arrived, Aemond made sure to help Y/N down, keeping her close to him, not wanting to let go for fear of what may happen if he did. He saw his brother lingering nearby, and they shared a knowing look. Aegon nodded toward him in a silent expression of concern.

"Come," Aemond said, his grip on her tightening as they trailed after Alicent and Otto.

The very second they crossed the threshold into the Keep, he pulled Ser Criston aside to entrust him with the task of escorting her to their chambers.

"No," she retorted and pulled on her husband's arm, "I want to go with you."

"I do not want you to hear what I have to say to my grandsire, ñuha dōna ābrazȳrys." My sweet wife.

A look toward Criston showed he shared the prince's opinion as he nodded and said, "Such words are not fit for the ears of a highborn lady with delicate sensibilities."

It took all the strength she had not to roll her eyes at the implication of his words, and she simply ignored the knight in favor of looking up at her husband.

Aemond said, "I simply wish to settle this matter myself."

And she obliged.

Even now, as she sits and awaits the end of the meeting when her husband will finally be free to leave with her, she does not know what happened after Criston escorted her to Maegor's Holdfast. Whatever he said, it must have been enough to put Otto in his place regarding his treatment of her since Viserys died. The older man made it clear in his expression that it isn't something he goes along with happily, but Alicent is now the one who oversees his wife when Aemond is not present.

The freedom she was once afforded has been ripped away in the blink of an eye. Being the daughter of the enemy, she is under constant supervision. Alicent's orders appointed Criston Cole as her "sworn protector"—prison guard, more like—and he stands beside her now.

With a glance at him out of her peripheral vision, she gathers that he cannot hear what is being said in the small council room either, and it leaves him visibly irritated.

"Do you think Otto has reached Dragonstone yet?" she asks suddenly. "He left three days ago. Surely he must be there by now..."

There's a moment of hesitation, but he eventually responds.

"You know as much as I do, Princess. We can only pray for his safe return. There's no telling what Daemon may do."

To this, she cannot help but chuckle in amusement, and it becomes apparent now more than ever that she is, in fact, the daughter of the rogue prince.

"Mind your tongue, Ser Criston," she says with a haughty air of authority much like her father. "Prince Daemon."

The knight can do none else but swallow his pride. She is, after all, his superior, and she is right. Only in the privacy of his conversations with Aemond and Alicent can he speak freely.

"Apologies, my lady, for my lack of...formality."

The doors are flung open.

Aemond steps out of the small council room, his face set in a cold expression. His hands are clasped behind his back, but they are clenched tightly. The meeting had gone just as he knew it would.

He turns his gaze to Y/N, and a slight relaxation settles within him. Seeing her waiting for him is like taking a breath of fresh air or feeling the wind against his face when he rides the skies atop Vhagar, and it doesn't come a moment too soon.

"You are dismissed, Cole," he says as he walks past.

The act itself is a silent command for her to follow, and she does. His presence is a vast step up from that of her sworn sword. At least her husband is smart enough not to taunt her at a stressful time like this by speaking ill of her father.

They remain quiet on the walk to their chambers. It has become routine for them to make this walk in silence after he leaves meetings with the small council, to wait until nobody can overhear to speak about what may happen next as they wait for word from Otto and his men. It's a sense of structure she cannot help but cling to amidst the constant uncertainty. And, at the very least, she is thankful that Aemond trusts her enough to confide in her still. Even though everyone else regards her as a spy behind enemy lines, he doesn't. Not yet.

When the doors to their chambers close behind them, his emotionless facade disappears. With only her to witness it, the anger and frustration he feels come to the surface.

"What happened in there?"

Just as he opens his mouth to speak Nyla makes her presence known before she can be found out by the prince and accused of trying to eavesdrop.

"I am sorry, your Grace," she announces her presence with a dip of her head and moves away from where she'd been warming bathwater by the fire. "I will leave at once."

Aemond considers this, then decides against it.

"No. Finish your duties, girl." A sharp look from his wife, a reminder to treat her more kindly, makes him pause for a moment before finishing a touch softer. "You may leave once the bath is filled for my wife."

"Thank you," Y/N adds.

Aemond takes his time to undo his leather doublet, the tension in his shoulders visible under the fabric before he unceremoniously yanks it from his body. He rolls his shoulders a couple of times to relieve some of the stiffness, craning his neck until he hears a slight cracking sound that is swiftly followed by a sigh of relief. His annoyance is plain to see when he tosses the doublet on the couch.

Her eyes track his every movement, and the sound of Nyla's humming in the background filling the gaps of silence during which they don't speak.

He tells her, "Iksan issare jittan naejot jelmāzma mōris naejot mazverdagon iā dīnilūks rȳ Daeron se mēre hen Barāthēon riñi." I am being sent to Storm's End to arrange a marriage between Daeron and one of the Baratheon girls.

"Sīr skoro syt issi ao ribazmoqitta?" So why are you frustrated?

The only part she leaves out is a taunting reminder that Borros Baratheon's father swore fealty when her mother was named heir all those years ago. Hopefully a marriage pact with a third son is not incentive enough for oaths to be broken. But, still, in another language or not, she'd rather not argue in front of Nyla.

"Kesrio syt issa doru-borto, se ziry gaomas daor gūrogon ziry." Because he is stupid, and he does not deserve it.

"Nūmāzma jēda ao ūndegon va." About time you caught on. She says the next sentence in the common tongue, not caring since Nyla has no context for it, "You speak of something we already know."

Y/N comes up behind him and slides her hands up his back, feeling the warmth of his skin through his clothing. The sensation of her touch makes his eye flutter shut in appreciation, and his mouth tilts up at each end in a slight smile. Slowly, her hands descend until they reach the hem of the plain shirt that sits at his hips. It would be inappropriate to undress him in front of a servant, so she opts for slipping her fingers underneath his shirt to massage his back. It's easy to tell just from an exploratory touch that his muscles are tense from the stress of the week since Viserys died.

"Naenie kessa sagon mundagon skori pōja kepa morghūljagon." Many would be sad when their father dies. A pause. "Nyke āryon daorun." I feel nothing.

It is no secret that King Viserys favored his firstborn daughter over the rest of his children. She always knew this. She saw it in how he cared for her mother—or, perhaps, the glimpses of Aemma he saw in her mother—but to see the impact it had on the rest of his children firsthand colors all of those fond memories of him in a bad light. Flaws and all, if her father were to die today, she would weep and mourn him as most would someone so close to them. But her husband does not mourn his father. Not in any way she recognizes as being normal.

Her thumbs dig into the muscles on either side of his spine at the southernmost point of his back.

"Tis understandable," she says softly. "Ziry gōntan daor ivestragī ao gīmigon zirȳla sȳrī." He did not let you know him well.

For a while, they remain this way, standing in silence as she massages his back for him and he lets out little sighs of relief to show his gratitude. They are so focused on this, trapped in their own world, that they don't notice Nyla preparing to leave until she is standing at the door with one hand on the handle and the other holding the empty bucket brought to warm the bathwater.

It is Y/N who sees her. All she needs to do is nod once to dismiss the girl, and she is gone before Aemond can open his eye. The only thing that alerts him to this is the sound of the door closing in her wake.

The hands massaging him stop in their tracks.

"Come with me," she instructs. "Let's clean up before you leave."

Their footfalls are quiet as she leads him from the couch to the large, copper tub filled with hot water. A familiar aromatic scent invades her nostrils, bringing a smile to her face because Nyla remembered her favorite bathing oil and mixed it into the water before she left. Soon, their clothes are left in a messy pile on the floor that another servant will have to collect after dinner, his eyepatch discarded next to them, and they sink into the steaming water together.

Aemond settles with his back against the tub, one hand still holding hers as she steps in and sits in front of him. Her hair falls down her back with the ends soaking in the water. There's no sign of her typical braided hairstyle today, so he wastes little time in grabbing the small pitcher set aside for them and using it to pour water over her head. One hand guides her head into a tilted-back position until her hair is fully saturated and ready to wash with her precious lemon and lavender soap from Lys.

One time, as a small girl, Daemon gifted her a bar of it after he visited with Laena from Essos. She may not have known for certain that he was her father at that age, but she cherished the gift regardless. For the years since, the soap has been delivered to her by ship every moon.

"You were right," she says.

His hands work the soap through her hair and rub her scalp the same way she did to his back.

"About?"

"About Aegon. He is unfit for the role that has been thrust upon him."

There's an obvious tone of resentment to what she says, and it's a sentiment he shares, although the cause of it is different. For him, he resents Aegon for being born first. For having everything he has ever wanted handed to him and turning his nose up at it. For her, she resents Aegon for the actions of his scheming grandsire and his mother who happily played along. For letting them use him to steal his sister's birthright. For Aegon, all he ever wanted was someone to love him, and if that love couldn't be found within his family, he would seek it elsewhere.

"You should see him in the council meetings," Aemond says. "He hasn't a clue what to do. Just sits there like a confused child while the rest of us talk."

She hesitates for a second before pointing out, "Perhaps that isn't such a bad thing..."

His silence is a signal for her to elaborate.

"If he is as unfit to rule as we think, it may be a good thing to let him sit aside while those better suited for the job do the heavy lifting. That is if you consider any of the traitorous fools on that council to be fit for the job."

He goes still.

"We have been through this, ābrazȳrys. I had no hand in what my mother and grandsire did..." Wife.

"But you do not care. If anything, you curse the Gods for not making you the firstborn son so you could have been the one they crowned in her stead."

In response to this, he just sighs and reaches for the pitcher to get the soap out of her hair. It takes a couple of rinses for it to sit in the form of bubbles at the surface of the water, but it eventually washes out.

"Wash my hair?" he asks, not wanting to acknowledge what she said if it means quarreling with her before he leaves. "Do not worry, I wouldn't dream of stealing your special soap. You may use the other one on me."

Wordlessly, she reaches to take her favorite soap from his hand and moves to crawl onto his lap.

The water sloshes with her movements, and when she straddles his hips, she can feel his cock half-hard against her. With the changes that have wreaked havoc on her body in the aftermath of pregnancy and childbirth, she questioned whether or not he would find her as attractive as he once did. Needless to say, it pleases her to know that he still cannot resist the sight of her bare body before him.

Those strong, callused hands find purchase on her plush hips to keep her in place and prevent her from leaving now that she has gotten so close to him. He closes his eye, breathing in deep, and allows himself to relax against the hard wall of the bathtub. He listens as his wife washes his hair, the small splashes and the soft scent filling the air. Her hands are gentle as she works. Her touch is tender and reverent. In truth, Aemond finds her touch to be soothing. Any anger that sparked from what she said is softened by the feeling of her body pressed against his.

"Ao jurnegon sīr gevie hae bisa," Y/N whispers. You look so beautiful like this. "Lēda daorun naejot ruaragon aōha laehurlion hen nyke." With nothing to hide your face from me.

She dunks the pitcher into the bath to collect enough water to rinse the soap out. Her fingers run through his hair with every pitcher she carefully pours over his head. It isn't until she puts it to the side and wipes the water from his face that he opens his eye to look at her. When he does, she is staring at him longingly—as if he is not a cold, disfigured man who most women turn away from. It is not lost on him that he isn't the easiest person to love. If anything, he has always been painfully aware.

"Se ra jaelan naejot gaomagon naejot ao..." he trails off. The things I want to do to you right now...

Their faces inch closer and closer with each passing second, and before they meet in the middle, she murmurs, "Tōma tolī tubissa." Five more days.

His lips are soft against hers. The instant they touch, she can feel the hands on her hips squeeze to absentmindedly pull her closer. She presses a palm to his chest and feels the hard pounding of his heart as they deepen the desperate kiss. He follows her lead, chasing her whenever she pulls away with a hunger that sets his blood aflame.

"So sensitive," she croons and grinds against him.

The feeling of his cock sliding against her wet folds elicits a soft moan from the back of his throat. It takes a few seconds, but he manages to control himself and uses the hands on her hips to keep her from moving again.

"No. We have waited this long."

"Five days might as well be an eternity, Aemond, I want you now..."

If he were standing, he's certain what she just said would make him weak in the knees, but it won't make him throw caution to the wind and fuck her when her body is not ready for it. He shakes his head and lifts one of his hands to grab her chin, forcing her to pull away enough to let him see her face.

Gods, he looks handsome right now, she thinks. With his hair wet and unbound, it falls around his face in a way she only sees in the privacy of their bedchamber. Then, there's that sapphire gleaming in his scarred eye socket. There's something about his beauty that is so haunting, so unusual, so statuesque. The very image of ethereal Valyrian beauty.

He looks into her eyes as he says, "It will pass quicker than you expect. The very moment those days are up, I will do everything I've dreamt of doing these past five weeks."

She wraps her arms around his shoulders and warns him with an exaggerated pout, "Do not tease me."

His response is immediate.

"Not a tease, a promise."

As he says this, the door to their room creaks open, and a nursemaid stands in the entryway. The babe's cries are enough to capture the attention of both parents, who abruptly cease their playful banter to look at the servant standing with her eyes averted from their naked bodies. Her face is flushed a deep shade of scarlet. As soon as she realized what they were doing, she turned her face away.

"I'm sorry to disturb you, Your Graces, but she keeps crying and we are running out of ways to soothe her. I was told to ask if you would like to try."

Sighing, she scoots off of his lap.

"Bring her, then. I shall take her."

The girl nods, trying to summon the nerve to intrude on their private affair, then walks from the door to the bath. Y/N reaches out to take the babe into her arms, shushing her as she cries and cradling her little body to her chest. The servant does not dare to look at Aemond One-Eye. No, her gaze remains fixed on the floor where his eyepatch sits. What might he do if she looks at him in this state? She does not wish to stay and push her luck.

"May I please be dismissed, Princess?"

"You may."

The speed with which she scurries off has Y/N fighting the urge to laugh, but she maintains enough self-control to wait until the door shuts before erupting into an uncontrollable bout of giggles.

"Stop it," Aemond says, his mouth twitching as he stifles his laughter. "Quit laughing at me, woman."

"Skoros gōntan gaomā naejot mazverdagon zirȳla sīr zūgagon hen ao?" What did you do to make her so scared of you?

Seeing her like this—laughing with her hair wet and their babe nestled into her chest, little hands grasping at her skin—is how he imagines the smallfolk feel witnessing the otherworldly presence and power of the dragons when they fly over the city.

"Mayhaps it is because of this"—a gesture to his face—"Most ladies, noble and common alike, are frightened of me," he muses, stating it like it is an unavoidable fact of life because it is. Ever since that day at Driftmark, people have treated him differently. He adds the next part with a soft smile, a rare sight for most who know him, "Excluding you."

"Those ladies are fools. What happened with your eye makes you no different than any other man, not where it matters," she states. "You are a Targaryen prince, Vhagar's rider no less, and what are they?" A scoff escapes her. "Frightened hens, that's what they all are."

The mere sound of their voices going back and forth lulls Daenaera into a calm, sleepy state. Her mouth hangs open, and drool coats the shoulder her face is smushed against. His girls truly are a sight to behold. He leans back against the bathtub, his eye still fixed on them with a look of disbelief.

How did this happen? How did the arranged marriage that he dreaded blossom into the overwhelming feeling tugging at his heart right now? It's such a foreign feeling. He only ever felt it as a child, when his mother fought for justice on his behalf after his eye was so brutally taken, yet even that was different. The type of love he felt for his mother that day does not hold a candle to what he feels for his wife every waking moment.

The prince cannot help but smile, watching in awe as she rocks their little girl in her arms, careful to keep her above the surface of the hot water.

He reaches out to gently stroke the soft wisps of silver hair growing from Daenaera's head. Slowly, the hand touching the babe's head moves up the length of Y/N's arm and keeps moving until he cups her cheek. Seeing that he cannot make himself say it any other way, he says it in Valyrian. The words that have remained on the tip of his tongue since he first saw her holding their child finally break free.

"Avy jorrāelan."

The words have an instant effect. She falters and almost loses her breath, her gaze fixed on him as her heart hammers in her chest.

"Say it again," she whispers, each breath coming in quick succession.

The distance between them wanes little by little until all that stands between them is their newborn daughter, and she can feel the heat of his exhales clouding against her face.

Softly, he tells her, "I love you."

She cannot tell if it's the heat from the water in the tub, the warmth of his body, or the passion in his words that makes her press her thighs together to satisfy the ache between them.

"Again," is her one-word plea, whispered against his lips only a second before they converge in a kiss.

It's nothing too passionate. Of course, they know that she is holding their babe between them, so it is a sweet, slow kiss. One that does not rouse the child from her half-asleep haze but still contains all of the affection and feeling a more heated kiss would have. After the better half of a moment, she pulls away to hear him say it again.

He is reluctant to part from the kiss, but when he does, he moves to whisper in her ear.

"Avy jorrāelan," he repeats. In the heat of the moment, he lets his lips graze her earlobe before drifting down her neck, planting a trail of chaste kisses against her skin. But before he can advance any further, he stops at the feeling of the babe's head brushing the side of his face. He then tilts his face down to plant a sweet kiss on her as well. "Se Avy jorrāelan, zaldrītsos." And I love you, little dragon.

Y/N lets out a breathless chuckle, her chest still heaving from the rush of adrenaline his confession and the subsequent kiss brought her.

"I never would have taken you for a man that swoons over an infant."

Aemond chuckles softly at her questioning his affection for their daughter. He runs the bar of soap over his chest, lathering his skin with it and scrubbing until he feels sufficiently clean. The sweet scent of it hangs in the air. It reminds him of all the times he has smelled it on her in intimate moments much like this, and it warms his heart to think that this will be another fond memory for him to look back on the next time he smells it on her.

He hums in response to her question, rubbing the soap down his arm.

"What do you expect me to do? Hate her?"

As she passes the child, squirming at the sudden disturbance of being moved from one parent's arms to the other's, she rolls her eyes at him.

"No, of course not. I always knew you would make a fine father one day. At least, better than Viserys was." As she coats her skin with the soap, he follows the movement of her hands cupping her breasts and caressing down her soft stomach. "I just...I did not expect you to fall in love or care for us the way you do. Tis a rare thing for people of our station."

He is quiet for a second or two before answering her.

"I did not expect it either."

Once they are both rinsed off and clean from any stubborn suds that wish to cling to them, she gets out first to lay the babe down on their bed. Knowing her parents are near and fed with a tummy full of milk, Daenaera does not cry as she had with the nursemaids. She finds enough comfort in the soft feather mattress to drift off into a light sleep while her mother dries herself. The linen cloths were left folded beside the bathtub for her, courtesy of Nyla, and after they are done, she hangs them out by the open window to dry in the sun.

With her help, he dresses in his typical leather ensemble in preparation for the journey to Storm's End.

Fortunately for the both of them, flying is far quicker than traveling by land or sea, so it should not be long before he returns to her. He fastens the buckles that hold his doublet together as she wraps the belt around his slim waist, checking to ensure it is secured before attaching his sheathed sword. This is a practiced routine they have gone over countless times. Day after day, she helps lace his boots and buckle his belt. Not because she is his wife and it is expected of her to serve him, but because she wants to. It's a small act of service, but it shows him how much she truly cares.

Next, he sits on the couch and lets her help him with his hair.

They told the servants not to bother them until dinner, but she could manage his simple half-up style herself. On days when she feels particularly lethargic, she forgoes her intricate braids for something quite similar that only takes a few minutes. But, she decides without asking him, she will braid the hair pulled back from his face rather than tie it off. It's nothing compared to the magic Nyla works when weaving her hair into complex patterns each morning, but the simple braid holds more securely than it would be tied back. Seeing that he will be flying for hours, she thinks it best to prevent it from becoming a mess.

When he leaves, she is there to walk him to the stairs—with Ser Criston following her every step like a shadow.

"Sagon ȳgha, ñuha jorrāelagon," Y/N says softly, touching her forehead to his for a moment. Be safe, my love. "Kesi sagon umbagon syt ao." We will be waiting for you.

In her dreams, Y/N floats in a churning swell, abandoned and left to the mercy of the open sea with a storm overhead. Saltwater burns in her throat with every dip she takes beneath the surface. When the waves crash, she is sent tumbling beneath the surface with nothing but dark water surrounding her. It isn't until the current calms, only for a second, that she may kick her way back up. Strands of hair stick to her face as she tilts it toward the sky and sucks down breath after frantic breath of air. No matter how hard she heaves, it isn't enough to get her through the next wave that pulls her under.

Beneath the surface of the water, she cannot help but try to breathe once the pressure from holding her breath becomes too great, which causes her to inhale a mouthful of water into her lungs. Her legs and arms flail in a desperate bid to save what will be inevitably lost.

But, as she struggles, she sees something crashing into the water not far from where she is.

At first, the bubbles in the water obscure her vision and keep her from squinting to see with the salt of the sea burning her eyes, but it isn't long before she can make out the shape of a body. A man—no—a boy. Now that she sees him, she no longer wants to make it to the open air. Her lust for survival is dimmed by the confounding sight of a young boy with no visible injuries sinking into the depths. Those flailing limbs now move her in his direction, desperate to save him before he disappears into the dark that lingers below like the ever-present shadow of death.

It feels as though her chest may burst as she swims for him, and she knows she is running out of time, but she cannot bring herself to abandon him. He looks no older than her brother. It's a thought that propels her through the water faster. She can't stop thinking...I must reach him. I must save the boy and give him the very last bit of air in my lungs. The harder she tries, the further he drifts away, and there isn't anything she can do but scream into the yawning void of the open ocean.

She wakes from the nightmare with a gasping inhale. Her hands claw at her throat and chest like they had beneath the surface of the water, but when she opens her eyes, she is sitting upright in her bed. The hand clutching her throat instinctively reaches for the other side of the bed, for Aemond, yet no one is there. It takes another few seconds of panicked searching before she remembers when and where she is. Before she remembers that her husband left to fly to Storm's End.

She glances at the position of the moon visible through the opened window and deduces that it is the hour of the wolf. Morning is coming soon, but the moon is still high, and it will be another few hours before Nyla comes to wake her.

Every breath she takes is labored and heaving, but she slowly begins to feel better. Being grounded to reality by the scent of the dying flames in the hearth, the pressure in her chest and throat eases. In another moment, she will forget the suffocating sensation of drowning that startled her so deeply, and knowing this helps calm her even more. It is strange to navigate these frightening feelings without Aemond, though. It used to be her mother whose arms she crawled into after a nightmare, but then she became a wife. He would always be there to wrap his arms around her and shush her as she cried. Now, she is a mother with a child of her own, and there is no one around to soothe her but herself.

To her left, Daenaera rests in her cradle.

Ever since the incident after Viserys died, Y/N has refused to allow her to sleep anywhere other than beside their bed. Her sleep is interrupted as a result, but there's no amount of sleep worth more than knowing her daughter is near.

The sound of Y/N's footfalls on the floor is near-silent. It is precisely what she needs to check on the babe without waking her. Daenaera is swaddled in a blanket made for her by her mother, and she appears to be in a deep slumber. A cauldron sits on the floor beneath the cradle. Although plain and unassuming, it holds the dragon egg Rhaenyra sent when news broke of her only daughter's pregnancy. One of Syrax's clutches, she assumes. It has yet to hatch, which has worried her husband sick. After what he endured as a child, he is quite fearful of what her life may be like as a Targaryen without a dragon. But having been born without hatching a dragon of her own, having to risk her life in claiming hers, she does not worry. There is no way a child of hers and Aemond's blood, even if she is unlucky in hatching her egg, does not claim a dragon one day.

For some strange reason, she feels drawn to the egg tonight. So, she kneels down as quietly as possible and reaches for the handle of the heated cauldron. Just as she sets the lid down, the sound of someone knocking—banging, actually—on the doors to their chambers draws her attention away.

"Hello?" she calls into the darkness. "Whoever you are, quit making such a racket. You'll wake my daughter."

The door creaks open only enough to allow the same nursemaid who interrupted her and Aemond in the bath to peek her head in. Freckles smatter her pale face like splotches of brown paint, and her red hair is pulled back from her face, hidden beneath a head covering all of the servant girls wear as part of their uniform.

"What is it, Edyth?" Y/N asks with an exaggerated sigh.

"I apologize for disturbing you, Your Grace, but it is a matter of great urgency. Ser Criston Cole is here with me. I feared your modesty may not be protected at this time of night, so he has permitted me to speak for him."

This piques her interest enough to make her stand from where she knelt beside the cradle. Her stomach churns with anxiety as her mind runs through every possible reason she could be summoned at such a late hour. If Daenaera weren't here with her, she would assume something happened to her, but that clearly is not the case. That only leaves...

"Aemond," she thinks out loud, looking to the servant girl to confirm her suspicions. "Something has happened with my husband, hasn't there?"

All Edyth can offer in response is a frantic nod, and it takes less than a minute for Y/N to throw her robe on to meet her at the door.

"Stay and watch after Daenaera until I return. Do not take her from this room. Do you understand?" The nursemaid nods once more in response. "Good."

With that, the princess is gone.

Ser Criston walks alongside her, his armor abandoned in favor of the comfortable clothing he sleeps in at night. It seems that he too was roused from sleep to respond to what she can only assume is a terrible emergency involving her husband. She soon realizes, though, that she does not know where they are going and turns to Cole for guidance with a look of confusion. Part of her still feels as though she's trapped in the nightmare with the storm, sea, and the drowning boy. Trapped in the place between being asleep and awake, her body sways with exhaustion with every stumbling step forward.

After they have traversed enough halls for her to recognize where they're going, she realizes they are heading to the small council chamber...in the dead of night.

As he opens the door, her view of the room is blocked by him walking in front of her with one hand on the pommel of his sword. Her heart nearly bursts from her chest from the anticipation that has built within her since Edyth first poked her head into her room, mind racing with every outlandish possibility regarding why she has been called here.

Yet, there Aemond is.

There everyone is—Alicent, Aegon, and the rest of the council excluding the Hand. Since he is delivering terms to her mother at Dragonstone, it would be impossible for him to return in time to deal with whatever issue has arisen. Her husband stands next to his brother's seat at the table with his head down and his hands behind his back. The closer she gets, the more unnerved she becomes at the sight of him. His hair is wild—obviously, he flew through a storm, and it dried in the wind as he made the journey home—and his utter refusal to look at her...

She hurries across the room to him, with each pair of eyes around them following her there.

"You aren't hurt?" Y/N asks as she cups his face between her hands and lifts his head so she may look at him.

There's a drawn-out beat of silence that follows her question, and it feels like everyone in the room watches the pair with bated breath.

It is Alicent who speaks first.

"No, sweet girl," she says, though it sounds as though she may weep. "He is not hurt."

"Then what is the matter? Edyth made it sound like..."

Taking a look around the room for reassurance only makes her stomach sink even more than it already has.

Aegon sits at the head of the table with a vacant expression, likely exhausted and heavily drunk given the time of night. Alicent stares at her with such guilt present in her wide, doe eyes. Grand Maester Orwyle and the others, who were no doubt woken from a night of good rest like the royal family, all look varying degrees of horrified. It seems that she is the only one who does not know what has happened, and she can't stand it.

She turns to her husband, her hands sliding from his face to hold onto him by his shoulders.

"Aemond?"

Aemond tenses up at the touch of her hands, and the tension in the room has become palpable and thick. So much so that she doesn't look away from him until he tells her what is wrong.

"What is it? Tell me, please."

He slowly looks up to meet her eyes.

"Your brother..." he starts, then stops for a second to take in a deep breath.

No matter how difficult this may be, he doesn't avert his gaze from hers. He holds it, hoping that she may be able to see the shame he has locked away inside of himself to avoid being seen as weak in front of the others, and keeps talking even though he knows the truth will damn him to a fate worse than death. A fate wherein he is the object of her hatred from this point forward.

"Lucerys is dead."

Her eyes well up with tears at the thought, her head shaking erratically as if doing so will make the news any less true. Suddenly, images from the nightmare flash inside her head, and she realizes that she was being warned of this as she slept. By who or what, she does not know, but the image of the sea dragging him under was not one she conjured. The faceless boy now has the familiar face of her little brother. In a way, he felt like a child of her own with how she always doted on him and let him sleep in her bed when he had his own nightmare.

Just when she opens her mouth with the intent of asking how it happened, as well as how they all discovered this before her, Aemond confesses.

"I killed him."

omg omg it’s so fun to be back with this story it’s getting so dramatic! please let me know your thoughts on this chapter and show it some love if you enjoyed it!

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