#here have a mountain with his braid down

[autumnblooms]

When he wakes up from a five hour nap on the forest floor and smells like sun warmed grass 👀

[itsmrshamilton]

Just Tattoo Of Us | LH44

Summary: Y/n & Lewis give a tattoo tour for GQ

a/n: I've rewritten this like 10 times

"Hey GQ, I'm Lewis Hamilton-"

"And I'm Y/n L/n-Hamilton. And we're here to give tattoo tours!" You looked over at Lewis on your left to smile at him.

"Ladies first." He murmured to you. You grinned and turned to the camera. Sweeping your braids over your shoulders, you sat up straighter on your stool.

"Where do I start? I think I've got well over 20 tattoos. I once got 5 in one month which were all impulsive decisions but I've never regretted a tattoo!" You exclaimed happily.

Lewis raised an eyebrow at you and smirked slowly. "Even the one on your l-" Your hand was quick to slap across his mouth

"Lewis, hush up. Hush up right now!" You threatened him as he giggled mischievously. He placed a hand over yours then proceeded to lick your palm in retaliation. "Ew!" You squeeled.

When he finally released your hand, you gathered yourself.

"Okay, so let's start with my oldest." The camera zoomed in on your left arm. "This is my hall of fame. Or my arm of fame. All the cool things I did in my twenties and thirties are memorialised here. I have a plane for the time I went skydiving, mountains for my longest hike, vines for the time I fell into vicious poison ivy - it was not a fun month following that. I have a trident for the time I went scuba diving and nearly drowned - fun times. Next to that I have the cutest fish I ever saw in my life. They came up to me and I felt like a proper Disney princess-"

"She is a princess." Lewis interrupted smiling warmly at the camera. The screen captured your goofy smile as you became flustered. 10 years with your husband and not a day went by without him flirting with you.

"Simp! Get on with the video!" Yelled Miles from behind the camera set up. You laughed at his antics as Lewis turned to him with mock annoyance and glared at him.

"Mind your business, Miles!" He returned.

The director motioned for you two to carry on with the video.

"Moving on. I have more bits and bobs on this arm, but we don't have much time." You said brushing your hand up and down the length of your arm. The camera followed your movements.

"I really love your sleeve. Every time I look at it, I'm reminded of all that you've accomplished, and it makes me happy to know that I was included in some of the stories." Your husband said to you. You felt your heart melt in your chest and drop down into your stomach to transform into a million butterflies. The camera focused on his love sick smile.

"Thank you, love. Okay, your turn. You already did an old video with GQ once, yeah?" You asked him.

"Yeah, in 2018."

"Okay, then start with all the tats you've got since then. Don't forget my favourite!" You waggled your eyebrows at him.

"Oi," he laughed, "keep this pg." You laughed and raised your arms in mock surrender.

"Yeah! There are kids watching!" Miles yelled again.

The camera captured a slow-mo of Lewis' bare arms and legs. His blue sleeveless top and white shorts allowed for you (and the viewers) to freely ogle his limbs. His muscles rippled and flexed as he moved to get comfortable on his stool.

"By the time I was 40, I had most of my upper half covered in tattoos," he laughed softly. "but I had left my left arm free for a super special sleeve." The camera captured his left arm, which was quite different from his right as it had many colourful tattoos as well as 5 beaded bracelets on his wrist.

"You've all seen the clock tattoo at the top, me and my dad. Under that, you've got my boy Roscoe, who unfortunately is no longer with us. I got this tatted when he began to get more sick and the vet warned us he would not last it til the end of the year." Lewis' voice cracked a little as he spoke. The camera showed the image of the tattoo - roscoe's sweet face, his nose imprints and his pawprints. "I wanted him to see it before he left."

Your eyes were glossy as you watched your husband speak. The loss of his best friend shook your little family, and his presence was sorely missed every day. Coco's passing had affected Lewis badly but Roscoe's really knocked him down and there was a time when you were worried that he might not emotionally recover.

"Under that, we've got a sapphire stone and a double rainbow, both in colour, for our first daughter. I got these the day she was born, after making sure Y/n was okay and settled at home of course. Hands down in my top 3. I didnt even feel a thing, I was so estatic." You both laughed at that.

"He actually told me he was popping out to run errands then two hours later came back with fresh tattoos! I was so shocked!" You said to the cameras grinning.

"You were more prepared for the next two tattoos though." His brown eyes crinkled as he grinned at you, reaching for your hand to hold.

"Oh, yeah. Definitely. Our daughters love the tattoos dedicated to them. They call them their Daddy's Special Stickers." You smiled fondly at every memory that contained your three little girls tracing and colouring in their father's tattoos. They often begged Lewis to draw a replica of their birthstone and name representation onto their arms so everyone could match. You had the initials of their first names as well as flowers below your c-section scar. The tattoo wasn't perfect due to the stretching and contracting of your skin around the area but it was still a beautiful tattoo.

"I've got an emerald and an arrow for my second daughter, as well as a pearl and a maple leaf for my third. It seems random from the outside, but i promise it makes sense." He laughed softly. "The funny thing is that all my girls have personalities that match their tattoos which makes me feel even happier about my decision to get them!"

"Yeah, Lewis has a big head because of this. So many family members were worried about the decision to get a tattoo on the DAY of your child's birth, but once our girls started talking and walking, everyone shut up. It was like he predicted it." You chimed in.

"The next tat after that is a garnet stone with a lion. That's for my little boy. He was born prematurely so I wasn't yet ready to get the tat and I wasn't sure if it was the right one but after he survived a week in the NICU, I knew I had picked the perfect pieces once again." He sighed happily as he reminisced on how it felt to hold his tiny baby boy for the first time at the hospital.

Your eyes were glossy once more but you couldn't help but quip, "See how his head grew a centimeter larger there?" Your voice trembled slightly and you tried to laugh without accidentally sobbing. Lewis' own glossy eyes met yours and he removed your hand from his grasp to pull you into a side hug, kissing the side of your head. Miles ran on-screen to give you both one big group hug and you all sniffled and laughed together.

The birth of your youngest child was traumatic and nerve-wrecking (literally). You were so grateful that you had your loving family there for support. Miles may have been the most annoying out of all of Lewis' friends but he was also the most loving. He had become your brother and best friend too.

"Okay, get out of here. You stink." You joked as you pushed him away and dabbed at your eyes.

Lewis and Miles laughed. Miles went back to stand off camera. "I love you too, Y/N"

"Alright. Can we have a round of rapid fire questions? You will ask your partner a question based on your tattoos and they will point out an answer. First example, Lewis, what is your favourite tattoo on Y/n?"

Lewis turned to you, and this time, his eyes shone with mischief. You grinned naughtily at him, knowing what he was thinking. On your honeymoon, you had gone to a tattoo parlor for new tattoos. Lewis had somehow managed to convince the artist to let him have a go at tracing your tattoo. The initial placement you had thought of was on your shoulder, but Lewis jokingly suggested he do it himself at the top of your inner thigh. Deliriously high on your love for this man, you agreed. And it was done. Lewis sat beside your table as you lay on your side with your left leg propped up and tattooed the word "mine" to the top of your right thigh, centimeters from your thong. You were wet the whole time.

"Um, I think she knows the answer to this one." You both giggled like teenagers. "My second favourite, is this one." He lifted your conjoined hands and kissed your ring finger which was adorned with heavy diamonds.

Keeping eye contact with him, you slid off your rings to reveal his initials tattooed to your ring finger. He smirked sexily as the camera zoomed in to capture the details. L.C.D.H carved in his handwriting in black ink. You squeezed your legs together in response to his look. It was becoming difficult to remember where you were. The internet would definitely have a field day with this video.

"Y/n, your favourite tattoo on Lewis?" The director asked.

"Besides the ones that represent our kids? Hm, this one right here." You traced the tattoo of a lipstick stained kiss on the inside of his left wrist. It was fairly new, about 2 months old. It was in the shade of your favourite lip combo.

"I like this one too." He murmured. "My turn again. If you could only keep one of your tattoos, which would it be?"

You immediately pointed to your collarbones. Thanks to your corset top, the camera was able to pick up the tats. "This is what I call the pathway to heaven. It's the tiny paw prints of my childhood pets as well as all the senior fosters that passed in my care." The image on screen was of black paw prints of cats and dogs that led to your heart, starting from your collarbone. You got your first paw print at 17 as your first tattoo and when you decided to foster animals you discovered that senior animals were more likely to spend their last years at shelters and you couldn't have that. 15 foster babies later, one paw for each sweetheart, and you had your pathway to heaven. The heartache of losing a pet was difficult but seeing their joyful faces made the pain easier. You hoped you weren't done adding to the collection.

Lewis had heard the stories about this design and the pets many many times, but he felt his heart grow bigger. Your love was endless, and that made you more beautiful in his eyes. He didn't know how he went half his life without knowing you. You were his everything, and you knew him like nobody else did. Every second spent with you was equivalent to a year in any spiritual eternal paradise to him.

"What's your next tattoo going to be, Lewis?" The director asked him. Lewis nearly didn't hear him as he was still daydreaming about you.

"Mine? Uh-"

"Maybe Y/n's whole face on your face." Miles suggested then cackled at himself. You snorted.

"Yeah, I've already made being her husband my whole personality. Might as well commit." He joined in on the joke, grinning at the camera.

"Oh my gosh, I would love that." You said. "Let's book the appointment now!"

Everyone in the studio laughed with your trio.

The scene cut to the two of you.

"Thank you GQ for having us. This was the Hamiltons' tattoo tour."

• • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • •

a/n: I really like this version of Y/N & Lewis. I think I might carry on with their family? Should I?

Dont forget the interact before you leave! Thanks for reading.

[tallulah477]

Hunting the Tawtute

Kinktober Day 19: Threesome

Pairing: Neteyam x Fem!Human!Reader x Lo’ak

Warnings: AgedUp!Neteyam, AgedUp!Lo’ak, Dark!Neteyam, Dark!Lo’ak, ***NON-CON***, Dub-Con, Primal Kink (Hunter/Prey Kink), Oral (female receiving and male receiving), P in V, Fingering, Handjob, Breath Play, Dirty Talk, Size Difference, Belly Bulge, Alien Genitalia, Slight Knife Play, Multiple Orgasms, Bukkake, Hair Pulling, Slight Humiliation, Slight Thigh Riding, Knots/Knot Play (but no actual knotting), Marking Kink/Biting

Word Count: 5.4K (of pure self-indulgent fantasy)

A/N: I don’t even know what to say about this. This one kinda like so fucking much got away from me. It’s like I went crazy, blacked out, and this happened. Hopefully some of you guys will like it too as much as I liked writing it.

Summary: When the Omatikaya raid an RDA outpost, you just barely escape the carnage with your life. You're stumbling through the forest when they find you, and the dark grins on their faces make shivers run down your spine. You try to run, but they’ll catch you - they’re little beautiful prey. 

Extra: Pretty, But Not Stupid

**PLEASE READ THE WARNINGS - DON'T LIKE, DON'T READ**

Translations:

Tawtute -  Human

Mountain Banshee - Large, dragon-like aerial predators

Sevin - Pretty

Vrrtep - Demon

Paskalin - Sweet Berry (term of endearment)

The ground is shaking underneath you as you run, booming with the force of the explosions and gunfire racking the now nonexistent RDA outpost. You can still hear the screaming, both war cries and cries of terror, echoing through the forest as your tired legs carry you further and further away. 

You’re gasping for breath, heart feeling like it's going to pound out of your chest as you sob. You hated the RDA, they were mostly all power hungry assholes anyway, but some people in the outpost were good - innocent people who fled Earth just to get away from the horror there, only to be met with a fate possibly crueler here. All the cooks, cleaners, and medical professionals who just wanted a chance - all dead within minutes of the start of the emergency alarm that blared through the base. If not by the explosions, then currently being picked off without mercy by the Na’vi. 

You’re lucky to even be alive right now. 

You shake your head, trying to ignore how your heavy, panicked breathing is fogging up your mask and how you can barely see through your tears. You need to keep going. You can’t think about it now. Can’t think about the carnage you're running from and the people you’re leaving behind. You need to find safety. 

You run a little further, trying not to trip on any more upturned roots. You fell over one a little ways back, and your ankle protests the more weight you put on it, but the fear of being found and killed keeps you going. You quickly round another tree and stop, bracing your hand on the bark of the massive trunk and lifting your hurt ankle up a bit just to relieve the pressure for a moment. Your eyes hurriedly scan the area, trying to keep an eye out for danger you wouldn’t even be able to defend yourself against. Even if you did have some kind of a weapon (which you don’t, you barely had enough time to sprint away with your life as it was, let alone grab any kind of form of defense), you wouldn’t be able to win against the strength and prowess of one of the natives anyway.

A sharp gasp leaves your lips when your eye catches movement a few trees down from you. There’s a male Na’vi standing there, long braids still swinging around his shoulders from his abrupt movement, and he has an arrow notched and pulled back, strong muscles and chest bulging behind the bow as he steadies the arrow - the arrow that’s pointed directly at you. 

“Wait!” You yell, hands instinctively coming up to protect your face as if they could ever stop the Na’vi sized arrow. “Wait! Please, don’t shoot!”

The male stops, curious amber eyes locked on your trembling figure, and to your complete shock, he lowers the arrow. Why isn’t he killing you? The Na’vi kill humans on sight, they don’t hesitate. You should have been dead the second he saw you. But you’re not. He lowered his arrow, and for a brief moment relief and hope flood your chest. 

“I mean you no harm,” You call, voice shaking. “Please, don’t k-kill me,”

The male tilts his head at you and you watch cautiously as he puts his bow away, reattaching it to his back, before reaching up to touch his throat. From this distance you can just see the outline of a necklace. A throat comm, you think. He has his fingers pressed against the buttons and you can’t hear what he’s saying, but you see his lips moving as he talks to whoever is on the other line. 

A dark smirk curls at his lips as he speaks. He’s looking directly at you and whatever hope you had disappears as dread fills your entire being. 

You are going to die. 

You can’t stay here, staying still even as he’s watching you is a risk. If you’re going to die, you’re at least going to go down trying to live. 

You turn to run, making it just a few steps away from the tree before the canopy bursts above you, a roaring shriek piercing your ears as a large blue and purple mountain banshee descends down towards the forest floor. You scream, falling back on your ass as the dragon-like animal lands just feet from you, the wind from its strong wings beating over your body and making your hair whip around your face.

The banshee’s rider descends from its back, landing on the ground with a thud and disconnecting his neural queue from the animal. He stalks towards you, golden eyes gleaming behind a few loose braids falling in front of them, and he grins, long pointed canines biting into his bottom lip.

“Where you running to, sevin tawtute?”

With another terrified sob, you scramble to your feet. The second Na’vi’s low chuckle, despite being fairly quiet, rings loudly in your ears, and you can hear the footsteps of the first’s getting closer and closer to you each second. 

“Don’t do it,” The second warns, and you don’t even have the mental capacity to realize that he’s speaking to you in English. You’re already spinning and darting away in the opposite direction. 

You run as fast as you can through the dense Pandorian forest. They’re chasing you, you can hear their footsteps pounding against the forest floor behind you. They mock you, first just making quick yipping and whooping calls, communicating with each other in a way you would never even begin to understand. And then they switch to your language.

“Better run faster, human!”

“Getting tired already, baby?”

“Can you feel my breath on the back of your pretty neck?”

“We’re going to get you!”

Your sobs get louder, terrified as you try to push yourself harder. They sound so close, like they’re right behind you, like they could just reach out and grab you. But they don’t. They’re playing with you. They’re faster than you, their legs significantly longer than yours and more adept at running and navigating the forest terrain. They’re letting you keep going on purpose, finding glee in your terror and enjoyment in chasing their prey. 

Your ankle is aching, pain shooting from the twisted limb, and your running is quickly turning into panicked hobbling. You can’t do it anymore. Can’t do it - they’re going to get you. Without thinking, you dive under a slightly uprooted tree - the tilt of the base giving you just enough room to crawl under the trunk, thick roots caging you in and separating you from the two male Na’vi. 

The second you make it through, there’s a burst of movement as the long haired male slides in front of the opening, long arm sticking through the roots and reaching for you. You whimper when his fingers brush your mask and you try to scoot yourself further back against the dirt, but there isn’t much room. 

“Come out of there,” He says, voice soft like he’s trying to coax you out, but the underlining reverb of a growl taints the attempt. “It’s dangerous under there,”

“Yes, tawtute,” The other says, long legs visible from behind his brother’s upper body. “Much safer out here with us,”

You can’t help the anger and frustration that wells inside you as you hear the absolute lie they are trying to tell you. 

“Bullshit,” You spit.

The long haired male removes his reaching arm and peers at you through the roots, eyes alight with mirth. “Oh, you hear that, brother? Our little vrrtep has a mouth on her,”

The other male chuckles and squats down to peer at you through your self imposed cage. “And what a pretty mouth it is. Can’t wait to see what else it can do,”

Your eyebrows scrunch together in confusion. That sounded . . . suggestive. That couldn’t possibly mean what it sounded like, right?

“What do you say, sevin? Want your gorgeous lips wrapped around my cock?” He asks, playful fingers lifting up the front of his loincloth slightly as if to tease you. And then, suddenly, there’s a new fear taking over. 

They don’t want to catch you to kill you - they want you. 

“My name is Lo’ak,” He continues, lifting his hand from his loincloth to wiggle his fingers at you in greeting. Five fingers, you notice. “You know, just so you know what to scream out later when I’m fucking you,”

More tears well up in your eyes, cascading down your flushed cheeks. “P-please. Don’t hurt m-me,” You beg, wide eyes pleading with the large blue men holding you hostage to show you mercy. “I’ll leave! I promise! You’ll never see me again,”

“She begs so beautifully already,” The other male says, nudging his brother’s arm. “She’s gonna sound so good when she’s crying in pleasure. Go ahead and try it out for me, paskalin. Let me hear you say it: Neteyam,”

Neteyam looks at her expectantly, golden green eyes dark from where his pupils have nearly completely taken over. 

“Fuck you,” You hiss. You try to put as much malice and ferocity in your words as you can muster, but Neteyam only grins at your curse.

“Yeah, tawtute. That’s the idea,”

Lo’ak suddenly moves, shifting over to the side of the tree and you panic at the abrupt movement, scrambling over and pressing your back against the roots on the opposite side just to be as far from him as possible. 

“Come on out, baby,” He purrs, eyes hooded as he stares at you. “Don’t you want to take a ride? Feel some big alien cock in your pretty, tiny pussy?”

You open your mouth again to shoot some more choice expletives at him, but all that comes out is a scream when the roots behind you rip and a large hand grips at your hair, dragging your body from its hiding spot and into the dimming light of the forest.

Neteyam hauls you up on your feet, fist tangled in your hair keeping you from running and grabs one of your swinging arms, pinning it behind your back. Lo’ak steps in front of you, tall and imposing at nearly twice your height, but you still try to fight, fight for your life and your freedom, and your hand smacks as hard as it can against his hip.

It doesn’t do anything to him obviously, you’re not even sure if he felt it, but all the fight leaves you in an instant when the large knife the size of your forearm waves in your face.

“You’re gonna be a good girl for us now, okay?” He says, tapping the glass of your mask with the tip of his knife as if he were trying to boop your nose. The tip of the knife travels down your neck, over your collarbone, and towards the center of your chest. If you were able to think correctly, you would be amazed at the control he has over the blade to not let it cut you despite your chest heaving with your frantic breathing. “Stay still now,”

The knife travels towards the valley between your breasts, taking the neck of your t-shirt with it and pulling it down and down until Lo’ak just cleanly slices through the whole front of it. Neteyam releases your arm now that you're not fighting against them anymore, but still keeps a firm grip on your hair. The ruined shirt slips from your shoulders and Lo’ak brings the knife back up to hook underneath the band of your bra, slicing through the material like it was paper and pushing the remnants of that off of your body as well. 

“Such a pretty little thing,” He muses, running the flat of the blade across one of your exposed breasts, the cool metal making you shiver as it presses against your heated skin. Lo’ak twists the knife and places the very tip of it at your nipple. The sharp edge makes you gasp, the bud starting to harden immediately at the feeling and you can’t help but feel mortified when you feel wetness pool in your panties. 

Lo’ak’s nose twitches, a wicked grin pulling at his lips as his large amber eyes catch yours, but it’s Neteyam that digs the metaphorical knife deeper, furthering your humiliation and making your face burn.

“Aw, is the cute little tawtute getting wet for us? We can smell you,” Neteyam laughs, dragging your head back further so he can get a good look at your face. “Look, brother. Look how flushed she’s getting,”

“You think that flush is going all the way down here?” Lo’ak asks, the tip of the knife leaving your nipple to tease your clit over your shorts.

“Rip them off and find out,” Neteyam suggests, and you start to wriggle again in his unrelenting grasp. 

“Wait!” You shout. Your neck is still craned up towards the sky, so you only feel rather than see Lo’ak undo your button and zipper. “Wait, please. I’ll do anything,”

“Yeah,” Neteyam agrees, looking down at your pleading face. His fingers latch onto one of your hard nipples and pulls on it, eliciting a sharp gasp from your plump lips. “You will,”

In an instant, Lo’ak yanks your shorts and panties down and Neteyam moves behind you to kneel on the forest floor, one knee pressing into the ground while the other acts as a stabilizer, foot flat against the ground. Neteyam’s grip on your hair is released as he grabs you by your hips instead, pulling you up to sit on his thigh, bare pussy pressing against the bulging muscles. 

The feeling of his muscles tensing under you makes more heat pool in your stomach, and your pussy is wet and sticky already as you squirm against him. Your legs fall on either side of his and even with him kneeling your feet still can’t touch the ground, toes just barely brush against the grass and only if you’re actually stretching to reach it. But the additional stretch just makes you push your cunt harder against his thigh and you whimper, not knowing what to do or how to move.

Neteyam wraps a restraining arm around your chest, trapping one of your arms under his and grabbing onto your other bicep, his large hand practically spanning the entirety of your upper arm and pinning it down. His other hand moves up to his mouth, long middle finger sliding between his lips, licking the long digit and pulling it out when it’s wet and glistening in the setting sunlight. He brings his wet finger to your core, dipping it between your folds and circling your clit. 

“So wet already, tawtute,” He whispers, lips brushing against the curve of your ear.

You whimper as he rubs you, dipping his finger down lower to gather more of your wetness and dragging it back up to tease small circles around your pulsing nub. When his fingers trail down again, it's to press at your entrance, and you can’t help the whiny moan that escapes you as his finger slips easily inside your leaking hole.

Lo’ak’s been watching you this whole time, crouching down to get a good, clear look at your glistening pink cunt, and the sight of his brother’s finger sliding inside of you prompts him to have some fun of his own. He stands, fingers moving quickly to untie his loincloth, the material loosening and sliding down his legs, flittering to the ground below him.  

You’re distracted, Neteyam’s finger is rubbing against your gummy walls, sliding in and out effortlessly while his thumb plays with your clit, so you don’t realize what’s so wrong with Lo’ak’s body until he’s directly in front of you - naked pelvis and even more naked center only a foot away from your face. 

Your eyes widen as you look at it, confusion written all over your face as you stare at the empty, flat space where his member should be. Lo’ak laughs at the bewildered look on your face and Neteyam mouths at your shoulder to hide his own grin. 

“Don’t worry, pretty girl,” Lo’ak says. “I’ve got plenty of cock for you. It’s just hidden. I’ll get it out for you since you're a little tied up.”

His fingers reach down to rub at the empty space and you watch in fascinated awe as he plays down there, fingers pressing in harder and sliding against the hidden slit you hadn’t seen before. His fingers dip inside, eyes closing in pleasure for a moment before they flick back open, sultry hooded orbs locked on your own. 

“What the f–ahh!” You cry, eyes squeezing shut, back arching in pleasure against Neteyam as another of his fingers pushes inside you. They’re long enough on their own, the combined thickness enough to feel like a cock inside you already. 

When your eyes open again, they lock immediately on what’s happening between Lo’ak’s legs. There’s something poking out from the slit and it takes your scared and pleasure hazed brain way too long to realize it’s his cock. It’s just the head peeking out, the mushroomed lavender tip like a bright, slick beacon between his dark blue thighs. He grins when your mouth falls open at the sight, fingers dipping back into his wet slit and pulling out another inch.

Every inch of his cock has your eyes widening, the long and hard length now fully unsheathed and bumping against his belly. Blue skin and even darker stripes litter the shaft, small bioluminescent freckles scatter towards the top and lead to the light purple tip. A fleeting thought has you thinking it's pretty, the colors blending in beautifully with one another, but when you see the textured bumps decorating the entire length, the panic hits you again.

“Let me go!” You scream, fighting against Neteyam’s hold, but hold is firm. “It won’t fit! You can’t! It won’t fit!”

“That’s why we have to stretch you out first,” Neteyam mutters, mouth pressed against your shoulder. His third finger nudges at your entrance and you stop breathing when it pushes against your already stuffed hole. The stretch is intense, your small body struggling to take the invasion as his long finger pushes in beside the others. His thumb rubs lovingly at your clit, distracting you from the stretch and working up the pressure starting to build in your belly. 

Lo’ak strokes at his cock, shuffling forward until the weeping tip of it is inches from your face. 

“You wanna taste it?” He asks, his other hand gripping onto the bottom of your mask. 

You whimper, terrified at the prospect of him pulling your mask off, but can’t get out anything more than a stuttering, “P-please,”

“Be a good girl and hold your breath for me,”

There’s a loud hiss of air as the seal around your face breaks, and then you can’t breathe. Can’t even make a sound when he pulls the mask halfway up your face to free your mouth, letting the bottom of it sit below your nose as he pushes his fingers into the hinges of your jaw to pry your mouth open. 

The lavender tip of his cock pushes between your lips, the underside dragging along your tongue. You can feel every bump and ridge as it pushes in further, the texture both unusual and intimidating as it slides against the warm wet muscle. 

And then it’s gone, your mask replaced and the burst of oxygen rushing into your lungs makes you feel even more lightheaded than without having any oxygen at all.

“Good girl,” Lo’ak coos, hand once again gripping the bottom of your mask and leaning down to press a sweet kiss against its glass. 

Neteyam’s fingers are still working themselves in and out of your stuffed pussy, and you see Lo’ak’s ears twitch a second before you even hear it: the horrible squelching sounds your pussy is making as it rocks against his three fingers.

“Such a good girl,” He grins. He stands up, holding his cock steady and pulling your mask up again, the hiss of air mingling with the wet sounds coming from your drenched cunt. “Let’s go again,”

His cock pushes inside of your mouth again, barbed length sliding against your tongue and nudging the back of your throat. You gag, choking from both lack of oxygen and Lo’ak’s thick cock, and you can barely register the light and strangely sweet taste of his precum as it coats your tastebuds. 

Neteyam’s fingers are ruthless inside of you, curling and dragging against your gummy walls with skilled expertise and his thumb is practically a blur on your clit. When Lo’ak replaces your mask and air once again fills your lungs, it's only there for a second before you’re screaming and gasping, the coil in your stomach almost too much to bear as it tightens, threatening to rip you apart when it snaps.

Your screaming is cut off again when Lo’ak lifts the mask away, shoving his cock harder and deeper into your mouth until the glass of your mask is pressing against his pelvis and his cock has slipped down your throat. Your eyes roll into the back of your head as you take it, legs shaking against Neteyam’s thigh. When it's replaced this time and air is once again allowed into your lungs, Neteyam’s teeth latch onto your shoulder, sharp canines digging into the tender skin. The bite brings about a sharp pain immediately followed by a flood of intense pleasure - your body jerks in his hold, shaking violently as the coil in your belly snaps. Your pussy clenches around his fingers, gushing against his hand as your orgasm rips through you without mercy. 

“Fuck, you’re so pretty,” Lo’ak grunts, fisting his cock with one hand while checking to make sure your mask is secure with the other.

You mumble a weak reply, but the words don’t make sense, they don’t even sound like real words to your own ears - and your ‘not words’ turn into a forlorn whine as Neteyam pulls his fingers from your still pulsing pussy. 

He tilts your upper body to the side, sliding most of you off of him except for your leg still draped over his thigh at the knee while your other foot presses onto the ground, leaving you spread wide. His free hand falls behind you, somewhere around his hip where you can’t see, and then something large and round shaped is nudging between your folds and prodding at your entrance.

“No,” You mewl. “Won’t fit,”

“Shh, be quiet, ma sevin tawtute,” He grunts, pressure pushing at your hole as he starts forwards. “It will fit,”

You take in gasping breaths as the pressure intensifies, dripping hole resisting the push as much as it can before relenting to the large male Na’vi’s wishes and the thick mushroom head of his cock pops inside. Neteyam groans when he breaches you, unwrapping his arm from your upper body and gripping both of your thighs with his large hands, hauling you up and in the air as he stands up.

Your back is pressed tightly against his chest, thighs spread open and vulnerable to Lo’ak’s hungry gaze as gravity pushes you down further on his brother’s cock. You whimper loudly, hands desperately gripping at Neteyam’s forearms as he impales you on him. The bumps on his cock drag without mercy against your sensitive walls, and your right leg shakes in his grip from the overwhelming intensity. 

It feels so good, so devastatingly good inside of you, the barbs and ridges sliding just right against your gummy walls and you toss your head back with a silent scream as he bottoms out, tip nudging against your cervix.

You’ve never felt so full before. It feels like he’s all the way in your stomach, cock barreling through your important organs and rearranging your guts just to make enough room for him to fit. You chance a look down, letting out a wailing cry that’s half pleasure, half horror when you see the large bulge protruding from your abdomen. 

“Fuck,” Neteyam moans. “She’s so tight,”

Lo’ak grins mischievously as Neteyam lowers his mouth to the side of your neck, pressing gentle kisses there as he starts to rock into you. One moment he’s in front of your face, sending you a cheeky wink when you gasp as the cock inside of you hits just the right angle to brush against your special spot, and then the next he’s crouching down, textured tongue lolling out of his mouth and licking against your swollen clit. 

You squeal at the feeling of his rough tongue, textured similarly to that of a cat’s, lapping at the sensitive nub. 

“T-too much!” You cry. You can’t close your legs, Neteyam’s hands holding them firmly open as he thrusts harder inside you, and your hands push against Lo’ak’s head, but he doesn’t budge - large head staying put while his tongue continues to swipe against the sensitive bundle of nerves. 

When Lo’ak decides he’s had enough, he lifts his head, trailing kisses up your stomach starting just above the disappearing and reappearing bulge in your belly and up your chest, tongue laving over the swell of your breast and latching onto your nipple, sharp teeth nibbling on the hard bud as you yelp.

His lips wrap around it, suckling on it for a moment before pulling off with a pop. 

“You taste so good, baby,” He murmurs, reaching down to play with your clit. “Like the sweetest little treat,”

“Feel so good, paskalin,” Neteyam grunts, lifting your body up and slamming it back down on his cock to fuck into your harder. “Snug little pussy squeezing me so well. You were made to take Na’vi cock, weren’t you?”

“Oohh my goooooood,” You moan, eyes rolling back into your head from the overwhelming stimulation. “C-can’t t-take i-itt,”

“Sure you can,” Lo’ak teases, face so close to yours that in your haze all you can see is his bright golden eyes. “Didn’t you hear what he just said?”

Neteyam’s thrusts are getting sloppy, moans and grunts a constant source behind you, and he hisses a quick “Fuck, take her,” at his brother. Before you know what’s happening, you’re suddenly pressed against Lo’ak, chest pressed tightly against his and Neteyam releases one of your thighs in favor of gripping your hip. Lo’ak’s hand cradles your released thigh instead, keeping you steady against him as his brother uses his new found leverage to pound into your tight cunt. Your arms instinctively wrap around Lo’ak’s neck, holding on for dear life as you moan and whimper loudly with the cool glass of your mask pressed against his collarbone. 

You can feel the knot in your belly tightening again, and you can’t think about anything other than how impossibly full you feel and how good the ridges and bumps on his cock feel as they scrap and drag inside of you. Neteyam’s grip turns bruising, fingers digging into your hip and thigh as he fucks you harder. 

“Who’s pussy is this?” Neteyam growls, mushroomed tip pounding into your cervix. “Go on, tawtute. Say it!”

“Neteyaaamm,” You moan. “Please, please, please,”

Distantly, even through your hazy, fucked out brain, you can feel something thick and round prodding at your entrance, bumping and stretching you out even more with each thrust. You cum, sobbing as you contract tightly around him, body shaking in Lo’ak’s hold as his large hand rubs up and down your back soothingly. 

Neteyam pulls out of you with a tortured groan and your eyes flutter shut, pussy still contracting and squeezing and wanting - wanting his long, hard length inside of you again, wanting it splitting you open, and now that it's gone, you can’t believe how empty you feel.

Lo’ak lowers you gently to the ground, resting your exhausted body on the soft moss. You feel the way he pulls your thighs apart again, settling himself between them, what’s left of the setting sunlight filtering in behind your eyelids getting blocked as he hovers over you. 

“Stay awake, vrrtep,” He says, smacking your thigh lightly to wake you back up. Your heavy eyes peel themselves open, watching as Lo’ak braces one hand above your head while the other guides his cock to your core. You whimper as he drags the head of his cock through your dripping folds, teasing the tip against your clit before running it down your slit and lining it up with your entrance. “It’s my turn,”

The slide is easier this time as he pushes in, but still no less intense. Your tired and overstimulated body tenses at the intrusion, tightening around him as he spears you open with his thick girth. 

“Such a pretty demon,” He moans, pleasure shooting through his veins at the feel of your tiny body hugging his cock like it never wants to let him go. “Tempting us the way you did,”

His hips start up a gentle tempo, rocking inside you to help you get used to his size and letting you feel the pleasurable drag of his barbs against your oversensitive walls. 

You whine, denying his comment. “D-didn’t do anyth–”

He silences you with a sharp snap of his hips, upping the rhythm of his thrusts and leaning down further so his pubic bone grinds against your clit with each thrust. Already you can feel another orgasm barreling towards you, threatening to rip you apart the same way his cock is splitting you open. 

“Fuck!” You squeal, back arching as your pussy squelches between your bodies. “Oh my god, fuck!”

“Say my name, baby,” Lo’ak grunts. “Wanna hear you moan it,”

“Looo’aaaaak,” You moan, bliss clouding your judgment as your hips buck into his in return. 

Out of the corner of your eye you see Neteyam, standing just to the side, watching as his brother fucks your very soul from your body as his hand strokes along his raging length. Your eyes catch on something unusual towards the base of his cock -  a thick, round bulb that shouldn’t be there and he smirks as he sees you gaping at it, hand stroking down to the base and squeezing the thick engorged knot of tissue tightly, moaning at the sensation.

Lo’ak thrusts in you harder and you feel that same thick, round ball bumping at your entrance that you felt when Neteyam was fucking you. The same bulbish ball of tissue that must be the same as the one you're looking at right now.

“Great Mother,” Lo’ak groans, face scrunched up in pleasure. “I wanna knot you so fucking bad,”

“Don’t,” Neteyam growls, jerking forward as if to pull his brother away from you, but Lo’ak curls his body around yours protectively, a deep hiss of warning ripping from his throat as he bares his teeth at his brother. 

Neteyam freezes, hands up in surrender but he glares at the brother inside you all the same. “Don’t. We don’t know if her body can take it yet.”

Lo’ak grunts, resuming his thrusts. “I know. Just back off,”

His cock pounds you relentlessly, kissing your cervix and his hand reaches down to caress the bulge in your belly. He presses down on the bulging bump firmly at the same time that his teeth sink into the still unmarked side of your neck, making you scream, the blissful agonized cry echoing through the forest as you cream all over his cock.

He pulls out, groaning woefully like his brother did, and fists his cock furiously, aiming the leaking tip directly at your puffy, spent pussy. Neteyam does the same, crouching low and close, stroking his cock beside you as he aims for your chest. 

They cum within seconds of one another, shooting hot, thick stripes of pearly bioluminescent cum all over your body, covering your chest and lower half with their release. 

You can barely feel your body anymore, can’t move a single limb on your own, and, despite not having any use of anything, your body won’t stop shaking - oversensitive and overstimulated and completely satisfied in a way you never thought you could be. 

“Ready to head home, sevin tawtute?” Neteyam asks, breathing heavy as he recovers from his orgasm. He just came but his eyes are still dark and sinful, looking at you like he wants to eat you whole. Your exhausted eyes flick to Lo’ak only to see the same desirous expression. 

There’s a feeling of dread in the pit of your stomach as you close your eyes, listening to their dark chuckles as your body forces you to rest. The last thing you hear before you drift off to sleep is a low, deep voice say . . .

“You’re ours now,”

Extra>>>

**Special thanks to @pandoraslxna for the prompt!

Taglist: @eywaite @loaksulluyswife

[maybe-its-5sos]

Dad (All Might Headcanon)

Requested: No Idea: What Toshinori would be like as your dad!

He's the softest sweetest dad!

He just wants to keep you happy and safe

He also wants to make you super proud!

He's absolutely wound around your little finger....what ever his baby wants, his baby gets! "Daddy, I wanna go to the zoo!" Toshinori having just sat down after an exhausting day of fighting crime "Of course dear, get dressed and lets go!" "I want that big bear plushy!" "okay!" he smiles reaching for his wallet.

He'll let you style his hair all you want. The mountain of a man will sit in front of the couch while you climb his back like a jungle gym, putting in cute hair clips and braiding it! "Daddy what do you think?" you cheerfully ask giving him a little hand held mirror. "I look fantastic, you should be my stylist, pumpkin!" He grins proudly, flipping his loose hair.

He'll absolutely play pretend and take part in tea parties, tiara and all... tho he had to have the chairs be made sturdier so he didn't flatten them with the power of them cheeks.

Lets you use his capes as blankets.

He always makes you walk towards the inside of the sidewalk. Tho when you're really young, he wont even let you walk at all and carries you around.

He would hold your hand at every doctors appointment! Knowing that you hate the hospital issued bandages because their industrial strength-, skin removing-, soul ripping-glue, he brings his own to make for a less fussy appointment.

He also does a full monster check in the house before putting you to bed. "Yep, no monsters there!" he says getting up from the floor after looking under you bed. "What about in there?" you ask pointing at the slightly open closet, hiding under your blanket. "Nothing in here either!" he smiles, after shuffling some clothes and looking around. He closes the door.

He'll read you bedtime stories and tucks you in. And yes, he gives all the characters voices.

Absolutely will let you sleep in his bed if you have a nightmare ("don't fear, why? Because I am here!" he says groggily with a smile), or even if you're just super fussy about going to bed.

He'll spoil you without making you a brat. He explains to you that not everyone can afford everything you two have. It absolutely warms his heart when you want to donate a bunch of toys to the less fortunate!

He doesn't expect you to ever become a hero, he just wants you to do whatever you love doing. Plus he doesn't want you to put yourself in unnecessary danger.

Kinda gives him a heart attack when you come home from school telling him that you want to be a hero like him. He won't try to change your mind (too hard) tho. He might try to sway you a bit, but gives up when he realizes that you're just as stubborn as him.

If you get hurt, that man is there with a first aid kit before you even realize you got hurt in the first place. "dad it's just a scratch." your roll your eyes as the large man cleans and puts an obnoxious bandage on your wound.

When you get older (teenager and so on) ya'll will absolutely have dinner/movie nights. Toshi loves spending any time with you that he can, especially when he can no longer be in his larger form

He thinks he isn't the cool dad anymore, but you constantly have to remind him that he's the best dad you could've ever ask for, plus now he doesn't take up 90% of the couch, so honestly you prefer it.

You're the light of his life and you'll never know how much your good ol' dad truly loves you.

Masterlist

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With love,

-K

[rivendell-poet]

Hihi! Can I please have headcanons with the fellowship and Thorin's company having a short (like 5 feet) human s/o. And they be part of the fellowship/company, please? Please take as much time as you need!💕

Hello again! Here's your fill for thorin's company and a short reader. Again, the height isn't specified - but I used 4'9" and 5'0" respectively on height comparison charts. Last one was platonic, this one is definitely romantic - hope you enjoy!

*･༓˚✧❝𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐧'𝐬 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐚 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐭 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫❞‧͙⁺˚༓˚✧ « headcanons »

○ Thorin ○ Fíli ○ Kíli ○ Dwalin ○ Bofur ○ Bilbo ○

GN!Reader | No TWs | Wordcount : 1k

𝐓𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐧

�� He’s unusually tall for a dwarf, so is actually around your height. It’s a pleasant surprise for him and you don’t miss the satisfied grin on his face as he realises it.

✧ Doesn’t believe height should have to be a huge factor in most things, but doesn’t deny it’s nice to have the human he’s in charge of not be incredibly taller than him.

✧ It also means that when he gives you his cloak, something in him hated your shivering, it actually fits very well.

✧ Teasingly asks why you look surprised as you realise it’s not very small on you.

✧ Very relieved that he can give you proper dwarvish steel and armour, even when you aren’t sure you’ll find a set.

✧ Drags you into Erebor’s armoury to make sure there’s something for you, and there’s a second of silence as he checks your measurements. You both hope the blush on your faces isn’t too obvious.

✧ Thorin is also grateful you’re not much taller than him, because it makes it that much easier to dip you.

✧ And he can give you a quick kiss without needing to ask you to bend down.

𝐅𝐢𝐥𝐢

✧ You’re still taller than him, but not by an uncomfortable amount. And he’s completely fine with that.

✧ He still greets you with the same bow he greets Bilbo with, except this time there’s a wink.

✧ Doesn’t particularly care that you’re human and not a dwarrowdam - he can still love you just as well.

✧ It also means when he gives you one of his knives it still fits perfectly in your hands. Which means that, when he can make you a knife, he only has to worry about making it worthy of you and not about proportions.

✧ Sometimes tries to braid your hair standing up, if he’s got nothing better to do, but often asks you to sit down so he can do something more elaborate.

✧ (Is secretly sad that he can’t give you surprise kisses if you’re not already bending down.)

✧ Very excited to show you the jewellery still in the mountain.

✧ Both because he thinks it looks beautiful, and because you have a bet the majority won’t fit you.

𝐊𝐢𝐥𝐢

✧ Is the one who gets teased the most, out of the company. He’s also the one who’s most obviously in love with you.

✧ Kíli is almost late to his bow when he first sees you, instead staring for a bit too long before hurrying to dip down alongside his brother.

✧ Also the dwarf who most easily puts away his pride when he asks you to kiss him. You have to dip slightly, but in the second you do his eyes completely light up as you close the gap.

✧ Still big on hand-holding, even though he needs to have his arm slightly up for you.

✧ Really enjoys you braiding his hair, finds it very relaxing and almost completely leans into you when you do it.

✧ Is also happy to braid your hair, although that requires a little less spontaneity and a place for the two of you to sit together.

✧ Has a specific tug on your hand he uses to signal that he wants a kiss. It’s adorable, and also very obvious because he always starts blushing.

𝐃𝐰𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐧

✧ If anyone is going to be taller than you, it’ll be Dwalin.

✧ Although he’s very grateful that he’s not massively taller than you - that at most it’s an inch or two. Because otherwise he’d be missing out on so many of his favourite things.

✧ He’d be missing out on seeing your smile so clearly, he’d be missing out on looking easily into your eyes as he says he loves you, he’d be missing out on easily being able to kiss you. The list goes on.

✧ Dwalin is one of the least obvious with his affections to you, but to almost everyone else in the company he’s obviously smitted.

✧ Makes a conscious effort to be gentle around you, although you reassure him he doesn’t have to be.

✧ You like his height because it makes it much less awkward for him to pick you up off your feet and twirl you.

✧ (But he’s probably strong enough to do that even if you’re a lot taller.)

𝐁𝐨𝐟𝐮𝐫

✧ An inside joke between the two of you is that, with the hat, you’re the same height. Of course this isn’t actually true unless he’s wearing a top hat.

✧ Which he does get, after Erebor is reclaimed. It’s just tall enough - and perfectly fitted - although depending on the height difference it does start to look comically tall.

✧ Doesn’t mind the height difference at all, it doesn’t stop him from admiring you.

✧ It does, however, make him leave a lot more ‘mess’ around his workspace in the form of wooden blocks.

✧ He can then easily kiss you when on them (although denies it if asked by anyone but you).

✧ Just tall enough to be able to dip you - and is very happy about this fact.

✧ Also grateful you're not much taller, because it means the toys he sometimes makes can still fit easily in your hands and he doesn’t have to adjust them.

✧ (He certainly would adjust them for you, however.)

𝐁𝐢𝐥𝐛𝐨

✧ Largest height difference of any characters here. Would not let that stop him in any way.

✧ Except perhaps a little frown at the fact it’s harder for him to kiss you whenever he wants.

✧ However, he’s completely fine with walking up to you when you’re not busy and doing puppy-dog eyes.

✧ “Can I have a kiss, my love?”

✧ Is sad about the fact he can’t dip you. Doesn’t know how to feel about the fact you can - and do - dip him.

✧ He enjoys it overall, he can actually initiate the kisses. (And is ok with being gently moved around, in the appropriate context.)

✧ Winces the first few times you come into his house and he sees you almost hit your head on the beams. Covers a lot of the ceiling in fabric and pushpins until he can get a more permanent solution.

✧ Hides behind you when there’s a mild conflict. But goes in front of you to protect you if there’s ever any actual danger.

A/N : Hope you enjoyed! I also have one for lord of the rings - although it's a lot more platonic - and it can be found here. Thanks again for requesting <3

thank you for reading *･༓˚✧ Taglist : @celestialhole / @starwars2222 / @withasideofmeg / @nilintakan / @recordofragnarokfan2 / @ferns-fics / @fleurdemiel-145 ✧ wish to be tagged?

[bloodreinasbathwater]

Where Kings Land

Part 1

Jacaerys Velaryon x Stark! Reader

a.n: I finally get the hype about Jace. This right here is one fine man. the hair, the freckles, the big nose. ALL of it. this is part 1 of the miniseries for House of the Dragon, and it's my first time writing outside of the regular asoiaf series. Enjoy and please lmk what you think!!

Warnings: manipulation, not proofread, yelling, cursing? talk of beheading and treason.

Word Count: 4,900

masterlist link

summary: In the harsh lands of the North, where winter's bite is ever-present, a tale of duty, desire, and deception unfolds within the ancient walls of Winterfell. Y/N Stark, sister to the absent Lord Cregan, finds herself caught in a web of political intrigue as the realm teeters on the brink of civil war.

...

The heavy wooden door slammed behind her with a resounding thud, echoing through the granite corridors of Winterfell. Y/n Stark—sister to the Lord of Winterfell, Cregan Stark—strode purposefully down the hallway, her frustration evident in every step. The torches lining the walls cast flickering shadows across her face, highlighting the furrow of her brow. She yanked her fur cloak tighter around her shoulders, warding off the perpetual chill that seeped through the ancient stones. The servants scurried out of her path, lowering their eyes as she passed. Y/n barely noticed them, her mind occupied with the litany of tasks that lay before her. The castle, a sprawling behemoth of grey stone and timber, was a living, breathing entity, and Y/n felt the weight of its responsibilities press down on her.

Cregan, her brother, was a warrior, a leader born to the battlefield. He thrived on the thrill of the hunt, the clash of steel, the shouts of battle. The day-to-day running of Winterfell, the endless paperwork, the constant negotiations, the delicate dance of alliances and diplomacy… these fell upon his shoulders. He was a silent force, a steady hand guiding the ship through the turbulent seas of politics and power.

Reaching the grand hall, Y/n paused, her gaze sweeping over the gathered lords and ladies. Their conversations buzzed like a hive of bees, their laughter echoing off the vaulted ceiling. She longed to be amongst them, to share in the joy of a feast, to ease the burden of her thoughts, but the weight of the impending winter hung heavy on her heart.

The biting wind whipped around Y/n's face as she ascended the final steps to the maester's tower. The air was thick with the scent of parchment and old magic, a familiar and comforting aroma despite its inherent chill. Inside, the room was bathed in the soft glow of a single lantern, casting long shadows across the piles of scrolls and tomes that littered the floor. Y/n's boots clicked against the stone floor, a sharp counterpoint to the rustle of the raven that perched on the window sill, its beady eyes fixed on her with an unsettling intelligence. The bird was a harbinger of news, always, and today, its arrival had filled her with a sense of foreboding dread.

“You've got ravens in your hair,” the maester, Alyn, said with a dry chuckle, his voice raspy from years of whispering secrets into ancient texts. He was a frail figure, his fingers gnarled and stained with ink, his eyes filled with a wisdom that seemed to encompass the entirety of the world. She brushed at her hair, dislodging a stray feather that had become entangled in its braids. 'They know I'm coming for them,' she said, her voice tight. 'They always seem to.'

Alyn nodded, a knowing glint in his eyes. 'King's Landing sends more than its fair share of worries north,' he said, gesturing to the table in the centre of the room. It was an imposing piece, carved from ancient oak, the surface groaning under the weight of a mountain of sealed parchments. Y/n sighed, letting the weight of the responsibility settle upon her shoulders. Every one of those scrolls contained a new burden, a new demand, a new headache she would have to unravel. The North had always been harsh, a land of unforgiving winters and fiercer people.

'What's the news, maester?' she asked, her voice barely a whisper.

Alyn shuffled through the pile of scrolls, his gaze searching for a particular one. “They're now threatening us with dragon fire, my lady,” he stated solemnly, the chain around his neck clinking softly.

Y/n's eyes narrowed as she surveyed the pile of letters that lay on the table before her. Her jaw clenched, her anger rising like a tide. “Burn them,” she commanded, her voice sharp and decisive. “Burn all the letters. We will not answer, nor will we cower.”

Alyn's eyebrows rose in surprise, but Y/n's resolve only grew stronger. “Prince Jacaerys should be here any day. We will make good with the Blacks.”

Maester Alyn leaned back in his chair, studying her face. 'Are you certain, my lady? This is a dangerous game we play. The Green's dragons—"

“Are no more fearsome than the winter that forged us,” Y/n cut him off. She moved to the window, gazing out over the frost-covered courtyard. “My brother may be in the north of the Wall, but we will not be cowed by southern threats.”

Her words echoed through the frigid halls, carrying with them a resolute determination that belied her youth. “You are right, my lady,” he said at last.

Y/n turned to him, a flicker of gratitude in her eyes. “Thank you, Maester Alyn. Please, have the letters burned. We must prepare for the prince's arrival. We’ll show him true Northern hospitality. And maester," she added, a hint of a smile playing at her lips, "make sure we have plenty of that strong northern ale. We'll need it for the toast when we pledge our support to Queen Rhaenyra."

Maester Alyn nodded slowly, understanding dawning in his eyes. He reached for the candle on his desk, ready to carry out her orders. "As you wish, my lady. there's one more," he said softly, holding out a sealed parchment. "It arrived separately... and it's addressed to you personally."

Y/n hesitated, then took the letter. The seal bore the three-headed dragon of House Targaryen, but something about it seemed different. More... personal. With a swift motion, she broke the seal and unfolded the parchment. Her eyes scanned the contents, and her face hardened.

"It's from Aegon," she said, her voice tight. She began to read aloud:

"My dearest y/n,

The silence between us cuts like shards of Valyrian steel, slicing through my soul. Do you remember the stolen moments in the godswood, under the watchful eyes of the old gods? The promises we made beneath the heart tree?I await your reply to our ravens with bated breath, much as I once awaited your stolen glances across the great hall.

But make no mistake, my white wolf. Your beauty will not shield the North from my wrath should you choose wrongly. Aemond grows impatient and Vhagar hungers for blood. With one word, we could reduce Winterfell to nothing but ash and bone.

Remember this, my sweetling: fire destroys ice. And dragons do not forgive.

Choose wisely. Choose me.

Yours in fire and blood, Aegon Targaryen, Second of His Name, King of the Andals and the First Men, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms, and Protector of the Realm"

y/n’s hand shook as she finished reading, her knuckles white where she gripped the parchment. The maester watched her, concern etched on his weathered face.

"My lady," he began cautiously, "what—"

"Burn it," Y/n interrupted, her voice cold as the Wall itself. "Burn it with the rest." She tossed the letter onto the pile, her eyes blazing with a fury to match any dragon's flame.

…

Amidst the icy grip of the winter, the last traces of sunlight had long since disappeared beyond the horizon when a thunderous beating of dragon wings shattered the bleak silence. Y/n stood in Winterfell's snowy courtyard, her chilled breath leaving clouds in the frigid air as she looked up to witness the dark shape descending from the sky.

With ethereal grace surprising for its size, the dragon landed with a resounding thud and steam rising from its scales as they met the frosty ground. As its rider dismounted, y/n found herself frozen in place, her carefully prepared greeting dying on her lips.

Prince Jacaerys Velaryon strode towards her, his Valyrian features softened by Stark coloring. Dark curls framed his face, windswept from the flight. But it was his eyes that caught y/n off guard - soft and kind, yet holding a depth that spoke of burdens she had yet to find out.

For a moment, the world seemed to fall away. Y/n's heart raced as she stood before the prince, a stranger yet somehow familiar. She couldn't explain the sudden pull she felt towards him, as if they shared a connection beyond words. But at the same time, fear and doubt crept in, questioning if this was all just a dream or a cruel trick of fate.

Jacaerys approached, his movements as graceful as the dragon he rode. His brow furrowed slightly at her silence. He glanced around, perhaps wondering if he'd made some misstep. Finally, he bowed low, breaking the spell. "Lady Stark," he said, his voice a low, warm timbre that sent a shiver down her spine. " I am honored to meet you. And I thank you for your hospitality."

Y/n blinked, suddenly aware of the eyes of the entire courtyard upon them. She straightened, pulling her mask of cool composure back into place. "Prince Jacaerys," she replied, her voice steady despite the turmoil within. "Winterfell welcomes you. Please, come inside where it's warm. We have much to discuss."

As she turned to lead him into the castle, Y/n caught the prince studying her with curiosity. She lifted her chin, meeting his gaze with a challenging look of her own. Whatever this feeling was, she couldn't afford to let it distract her. The fate of the North hung in the balance.

Yet as they walked, she couldn't help but be acutely aware of his presence just behind her, like the warmth of a flame at her back in the cold northern night.

…

The Brown Room lived up to its name, with rich walnut paneling and fur-draped chairs that spoke of comfort in the face of long northern nights. Y/N led Jacaerys inside, the scent of beeswax candles and old parchment greeting them. The fire crackled in the hearth, casting dancing shadows across the cluttered table where ledgers and letters vied for space.

Y/N gestured to a high-backed chair. "Please, sit," she said, her voice steadier than she felt. She reached for a decanter, the crystal cool against her fingers. "Would you care for some wine, my Lord? It's a Dornish red – my favorite one."

Jacaerys settled into the chair, his eyes roaming the room before settling on Y/N. "Thank you, my lady. And please, call me Jace."

As she poured, a drop of wine escaped, staining the cuff of her sleeve crimson. Y/N barely noticed, too aware of Jace's proximity, the warmth radiating from him in the cool room.

"What did you wish to discuss, my lady?" Jace broached softly, accepting the goblet with a nod of thanks.

Suddenly, the room felt stifling. Y/N's heavy fur cloak, a necessity in Winterfell's drafty halls, now seemed unbearable. She shed it, draping it over the tall oak chair behind her. The firelight caught the silver direwolf clasp as it settled.

"Our support," Y/N replied, forcing herself to meet Jace's gaze. His eyes, she noticed, were flecked with gold in the candlelight. She swallowed hard and continued, "We have two thousand men. Strong northern fighters. We call them Winter Wolves."

Jace leaned forward, interest piqued. "Winter Wolves? An apt name, I'd wager."

Y/N allowed herself a small smile. "Indeed. They're as fierce as their namesake and twice as loyal." She moved to the table, rifling through the papers until she found a particular map. As she spread it out, the familiar scent of ink and parchment helped ground her.

"Here," she pointed, "is where we've gathered them. They await only my brother's word - or mine, in his absence."

Jace stood, moving to study the map. His arm brushed Y/N's as he leaned in, and she caught a whiff of leather and something else - perhaps the lingering scent of dragon scales. Jacaerys studied the map closely, tracing his fingers over the different markings and symbols. He was impressed by the precision and detail of the Winter Wolves' gathering points.

"Your brother must be a formidable leader to have gathered such a force in such a short time," Jace remarked, straightening up and turning to face Y/N.

"Yes, he is," Y/N said with pride.

"This is... more than we dared hope for," Jace admitted, his voice low and warm.

Outside, a wolf howled in the distance, a lonely sound that seemed to echo Y/N's inner turmoil. She squared her shoulders, pushing away the unwelcome feelings. Jace's brow furrowed as he studied Y/N's face. "My lady, are you well? You seem... flushed."

Y/N startled, realizing she'd been staring. She tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear, painfully aware of the dampness at her temples. "I'm fine, my- Jace," she corrected herself. "I was... under the weather a few days ago. Nothing serious."

Jace's eyes softened with concern. Jace's hand hovers near Y/N's elbow, his fingers poised as if ready to reach out and catch her. She can feel the warmth radiating off of his skin, and she can sense the electricity between them, even though he's not quite touching her. "Perhaps you should sit. We needn't discuss everything tonight."

The gentleness in his voice made Y/N's heart flutter. She sank into a nearby chair, Jace following suit. He leaned forward, elbows on his knees, giving her his full attention. His eyes were pools of liquid silver, soft and caring as they searched Y/N's face.

"Tell me," he said softly, "how are you truly faring? It can't be easy, managing the North in your brother's absence."

Y/N's carefully constructed walls began to crumble under his earnest gaze. "It's... challenging," she admitted. "Especially with the constant stream of demands from King's Landing."

Jace's expression darkened. "Ah, yes. I've heard whispers of Aegon's... correspondence."

Y/N couldn't hide the flash of frustration that crossed her face. "Correspondence," she scoffed. "Threats, more like. Your cousin seems to think he can bully the North into submission."

"My cousin," Jace said, his voice low and intense, "forgets that winter roses have thorns." He reached out, this time taking Y/N's hand in his. The touch sent a jolt through her. He gave her hand a gentle squeeze before releasing it. "You needn't face this alone, my lady."

Y/N found herself lost in his eyes, warm and sincere. "I... thank you, Jace," she murmured.

A log shifted in the fireplace, sending up a shower of sparks. Jace glanced at the flames, then back to Y/N, a mischievous smile playing at his lips. "You know, where I come from, they say the dragonfires pale in comparison to the warmth of a northern welcome."

Despite herself, Y/N laughed. "Is that so? And how does our hospitality measure up?"

Jace's thumb traced circles on the back of her hand, his touch feather-light. "Oh, it exceeds all expectations, my lady. Though I must confess, I find myself most warmed by present company."

Y/N felt her cheeks burn, but for once, she didn't mind the heat. A small smile tugged at the corners of Y/N's lips as she gazed into his captivating eyes. "You're quite the charmer, Prince Jacaerys."

"Only when properly inspired," is all he replied.

…

The pale light of dawn crept over Winterfell's stone walls, casting long shadows across the frosted courtyard. Y/N stood in the stables, her breath visible in the crisp morning air.

Her fingers, slightly numb from the cold, worked methodically on the leather straps of her horse's saddle. The familiar motions were soothing - tighten, adjust, check, repeat. The rich scent of hay and horse sweat mingled with the earthy aroma of leather oil.

As she worked, Y/N caught herself glancing repeatedly towards the castle, anticipation building in her chest.

The sound of approaching footsteps made her heart quicken. Jace appeared in the stable doorway, silhouetted against the brightening sky. He stifled a yawn, rubbing sleep from his eyes. Y/N noticed the slight disarray of his dark curls and felt a sudden, inexplicable urge to smooth them.

"My lady," Jace greeted, his voice husky with sleep. He cleared his throat, offering a sheepish smile. "You're up early."

Y/N felt the corners of her mouth twitch upward. "The North waits for no one, Your Grace," she replied, handing him a set of reins. Their fingers brushed, and Y/N pretended not to notice the warmth that spread from the point of contact. "Are you ready for an adventure?"

As they set out, the rhythmic clop of hooves against cobblestone gave way to the muffled thud of earth. The misty woods enveloped them, tendrils of fog curling around the horses' legs. Droplets of dew clung to Y/N's eyelashes, refracting the weak sunlight into tiny prisms.

Y/N led the way, her posture relaxed and confident in the saddle. She navigated the invisible path with ease, ducking low-hanging branches and steering around hidden roots. Behind her, she could hear Jace's horse snorting softly, its rider muttering gentle reassurances.

"I can hardly see the path," Jace called out, a note of uncertainty in his voice.

Y/N twisted in her saddle, catching Jace's eye with a mischievous glint in her own. "That's because there isn't one," she replied, allowing a rare, playful smile to cross her features.

The forest was a symphony of morning sounds. Birds trilled their dawn chorus, their songs echoing through the mist-shrouded trees. Small creatures rustled in the underbrush, sending leaves skittering across the forest floor. The earthy scent of damp soil and pine needles filled the air, punctuated by the occasional whiff of wild mint when Y/N's horse trampled a hidden patch.

Hours seemed to pass as they wound their way through the increasingly dense forest. Y/N found herself hyper-aware of Jace's presence behind her. She could feel his eyes on her back, and fought the urge to glance over her shoulder more often than necessary.

Finally, they came upon a rocky outcropping. Y/N dismounted with practiced grace, her boots sinking slightly into the damp earth. She patted her horse's flank, murmuring soft words of thanks. From the corner of her eye, she watched Jace dismount, noting the slight stiffness in his movements after the long ride.

Jace stretched, rolling his shoulders to ease the tension. His brow furrowed as he surveyed their surroundings. "My lady," he began, a hint of amusement in his tone, "I hate to question your expertise, but this looks suspiciously like a dead end."

Y/N's laugh echoed off the rocks, startling a nearby bird into flight. "Patience, Your Grace," she said, her eyes twinkling with secret knowledge. "The best treasures are often hidden."

She reached out, taking Jace's hand in hers. His palm was warm against her cool fingers, and she felt a flutter in her stomach at the contact. Pushing the feeling aside, she led him towards what appeared to be a solid rock face.

As they drew closer, a narrow opening revealed itself, barely visible unless one knew exactly where to look. Y/N squeezed through first, tugging Jace along behind her. The passage was tight, the rough stone scraping against their shoulders. Cool, damp air enveloped them, carrying the faint mineral scent of underground water.

Jace's breath was warm on the back of Y/N's neck as they inched forward in the dim light. She was acutely aware of his presence, of the way his chest occasionally brushed against her back in the narrow confines.

Suddenly, the passage opened up. Y/N stepped aside, allowing Jace to fully enter the cavern. She watched his face intently, savoring the moment his eyes widened in awe.

Sunlight streamed through an opening high above, illuminating a spectacular waterfall. The water, tinted an ethereal light blue by minerals in the rock, cascaded down in a thunderous rush before crashing into a pool below. Mist rose from the impact, creating tiny rainbows where the light hit just right.

"By the gods," Jace breathed, his voice barely audible over the roar of the falls. He turned to Y/N, wonder written across his features. "It's incredible."

Y/N felt a warmth bloom in her chest at his reaction. "Welcome to my secret place," she said softly, suddenly feeling shy. "Not even Cregan knows about this."

Jace's gaze softened as he looked at her, something unspoken passing between them. "Thank you for sharing this with me," he said, his voice low and sincere.

They settled on a smooth rock near the pool's edge, close enough that their shoulders nearly touched. The mist from the falls cooled their skin, a welcome relief after the long ride. Y/N pulled out a small bundle from her saddlebag - bread, cheese, and a flask of sweet northern ale.

The conversation lulled, replaced by the constant rush of the waterfall. Y/N traced patterns in the damp sand with a stick, her eyes distant. Jace watched her, noting the slight furrow in her brow.

"A copper for your thoughts, my lady?" he asked softly.

Y/N looked up, a rueful smile tugging at her lips. "Just thinking about duties," she said. "They never seem to end, do they?"

Jace nodded, understanding in his eyes. "The burden of our birthrights," he agreed. "Sometimes I wonder what it would be like to be free of them."

"Free," Y/N echoed, the word hanging in the mist between them. She sighed, tossing the stick into the pool. "Cregan writes often of my duties. He's pressuring me more and more to find a husband."

Jace's expression shifted, something unreadable flickering in his eyes. "I... I apologize if I'm intruding, but may I ask why you haven't? Surely you've had no shortage of suitors."

Y/N met his gaze, finding unexpected comfort in the warmth she saw there. "Because I want love," she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. "I want a simple life, filled with moments like this." She gestured to the cavern around them. "But how can I promise forever to someone when tomorrow is so uncertain? How can I build a life amidst a war?"

Jace was quiet for a moment, considering her words. "Love in wartime," he mused. "It's not an easy path, but perhaps... perhaps it's the very thing that makes the fight worthwhile."

Y/N felt her heart quicken at his words. "And what of you, Prince Jacaerys? What does your heart seek in these troubled times?"

Jace's gaze softened as he looked at her. "I seek a partner," he said quietly. "Someone to stand beside me, not behind me. Someone who understands duty but hasn't lost sight of dreams." He paused, a slow smile spreading across his face. "Someone who knows the value of secret waterfalls and stolen moments."

The air between them seemed to crackle with unspoken possibility. Y/N felt drawn to him, like a moth to flame, but held herself back. This was not the time, not with so much at stake.

"It seems we both seek something rare and precious," she said, her voice thick with emotion.

Jace nodded, his eyes never leaving hers. "Perhaps the gods will be kind," he murmured.

…

The iron-bound gates of Winterfell groaned open, admitting Y/N and Jace as the sun dipped below the horizon. The air was thick with the scent of pine and woodsmoke, punctuated by the sharp tang of approaching frost. Their horses' hooves clattered against the worn cobblestones, the sound echoing off the ancient stone walls.

As they dismounted, Y/N felt the day's exertion in her muscles, a pleasant ache that spoke of adventure and freedom. She caught Jace's eye, noticing how the fading light caught the silver threads in his jerkin, making them shimmer like starlight.

"Jace," she began, her voice low and tinged with an emotion she dared not name, "today was—"

"Lady Y/N! Lady Y/N!" The frantic shout shattered the moment like a stone through ice.

Y/N's transformation was instantaneous and mesmerizing. Her shoulders squared, chin lifting as if an invisible crown had settled upon her brow. The softness in her eyes hardened to flint, sharp enough to cut.

"What is it?" she demanded, her voice crisp as a midwinter morning.

The guard skidded to a halt before them, his breath coming in ragged gasps. "My lady, there's been... an incident. You're needed urgently."

Y/N nodded curtly. "Lead on," she commanded, then turned to Jace. "Your Grace, I must attend to this. Perhaps we could speak later..."

Jace stepped forward, close enough that Y/N could smell the leather of his riding gloves and a hint of something spicy—cloves, perhaps. "If you'll allow me, I'd like to accompany you.”

Y/N hesitated, then inclined her head in agreement. They followed the guard, their footsteps echoing through Winterfell's torch-lit corridors. The warmth of the castle was a stark contrast to the chill outside, yet Y/N felt a different kind of coldness settling in her bones.

They entered a small, dim room that reeked of fear and desperation. A man knelt on the floor, the rattle of his chains a counterpoint to his broken sobs. In the flickering torchlight, his tear-stained face looked ghastly, almost skull-like.

"What has he done?" Y/N's voice cut through the room like a blade.

The man looked up, his eyes wide and pleading. Y/N's voice sliced through the tense atmosphere like a blade, her words sharp and filled with accusation. The man shrunk back in his seat, his eyes wide and pleading as he desperately tried to defend himself.

"My lady," he stammered, "I beg you... I was only going to King's Landing, to pledge myself to King Aegon, my children. Is that such a crime?" His voice trembled with fear and uncertainty, his hands shaking as he awaited her judgement.

Y/N's gaze bore into him, seeking any sign of deceit or treachery. Observation seemed to be her weapon of choice, and she wielded it with expert precision. Y/N's lips thinned. "If you wished to leave, you could have done so freely. We do not hold men against their will in the North. Or have you forgotten our ways so quickly?"

The guard cleared his throat, the sound like gravel underfoot. "There's more, my lady. He attempted to steal half the winter rations and one of our best horses. Caught him in the act, we did."

The man's sobs crescendoed. "You can't behead an innocent man!" he wailed, his voice cracking. "You and Lord Cregan, you'll be the death of House Stark! The North will remember this betrayal!"

Y/N stood motionless, but Jace saw the almost imperceptible tightening of her jaw, the slight tremor in her clenched fists. The room fell silent save for the man's ragged breathing and the soft hiss of the torches.

Her grip tightened on the hilt of her sword, her knuckles turning white as she struggled to keep her composure. Jace watched as Y/N stood motionless, her face a mask of stoic determination, but he could see the anger burning in her gaze.

"Send him to the Wall," Jace suggested, his voice a low rumble that seemed to vibrate through Y/N's chest. "It's a harsh sentence, yes, but one that allows him to redeem himself in service to the realm."

Y/N turned to him, her eyes unreadable in the dim light. "Or I could let him go," she mused, her voice barely above a whisper. "But then, what message would that send? That theft and betrayal go unpunished in the North?"

"Take his fingers, my lady," the guard interjected. "It's an old punishment, aye, but effective. He'd bear the mark of his crime, but keep his life and limbs... most of them, at least."

Y/N closed her eyes briefly, and in that moment, Jace saw the weight of the North resting on her shoulders. When she opened them again, they gleamed with resolve.

"You've given me much to consider," she said, her voice steady as the foundations of Winterfell itself. "I'll not make this decision in haste. Guard, take him to the cells. See that he's fed and given water. I'll pass judgment when the sun rises."

As the guard led the prisoner away, his pleas fading down the corridor, Y/N turned to Jace. The torchlight cast dancing shadows across her face, highlighting the sharp planes of her cheekbones and the weariness in her eyes.

Jace moved towards Y/N, his tall frame casting a shadow over her. She could feel the heat emanating from his body, a welcome warmth against the coldness that had nestled in her chest. He spoke gently, never breaking eye contact with her. "You carry your burden with grace, my lady," he murmured, his voice deep and soothing.

Y/N held his gaze for a moment, allowing herself to bask in the comfort of his words. But as quickly as it had come, the moment passed. She took a step back, "Grace," she echoed, her voice barely above a whisper. "Grace is a luxury, Your Grace. In the North, we survive on harsher virtues."

Her eyes, once warm and inviting, now held a wintry gleam. The soft curves of her face seemed to harden, as if the very stone of Winterfell was seeping into her bones. With those words, Y/N turned away, her cloak swirling around her like a shroud. As she walked deeper into the shadows of Winterfell's halls, Jace was left with the unsettling feeling that he'd glimpsed not just the Lady of Winterfell, but a portent of the harsh days to come.

The torches guttered in a sudden draft, and for a moment, the corridor was plunged into darkness. When the light returned, Y/N was gone, leaving behind only the echo of her words and the lingering chill of premonition.

...

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[justlillythinking]

idk where to put requests bc i barely ask for stuff on here but basically my idea was this. neteyam x human reader that is hella funny. friends to lovers type thing where he feels his responsibilities and stress slip away when hes with them. kiss kiss love confession type thing. gn or fem would be cool mookie

neteyam x human!reader imagine

1.7k words

warnings- sfw, mutual pinning, soft fluff, a little angst ? love confessions

also while writing this it was inspired by in love with you by erykah badu and boogie nights/all night by erykah badu

hanging out with the sullys is always interesting, from going on ikran rides to sneaking on missions. when lo'ak says that you should all go on a ride right before eclipse, neteyam is fast to object.

"come on bro, you know dad is going to slaughter us if we are out at eclipse, lets just go tomorrow."

spider huffs before jumping on lo'aks ikran. god, my brother is such an ass, sometimes i just want to slap him so hard he can't feel his face for a week. i give neteyam a look, us both understanding that the only way to keep our stupid brothers in line is to follow them and keep them safe. he helps me up onto his ikran and we take off after spider and lo'ak, soaring in the calm sunset.

after flying for 10 minutes, spider and lo'ak land somewhere in the floating mountains, neteyam and i follow after them. when we touch down, neteyam picks me up and sets me down; something he loves to do to remind me he’s 3 feet taller than i am.

“fucking skxawng”, i mutter under my breath. before i can even turn around to shoot him a dirty look, he picks me up by my waist with one hand, laughing at me kicking him.

“what was that you just said?” he asks, still laughing at me.

i shoot him the dirtiest glare possible, “ i called you a fucking skxawng, skxawng. now put me down before i rip your braid out.”

neteyam laughs and sets me down, walking away like i huff. we both eventually walk over to spider and lo’ak, sitting beside them and admiring the forrest. we all talk and joke around, laughing about stupid jokes and talking about rumors. we eventually get on the topic of crushes, me teasing spider about his growing crush on kiri, neteyam rolling his eyes like lo’ak complains.

“cuz, come on, that’s my sister i don’t need to know that you want to bang her bro. how would that even work anyways, a human and a na’vi??”

i sigh to myself, knowing what lo’ak says about a human being with a na’vi is true and that neteyam and i will probably never grow to something more than just being friends.

little do i know, neteyam is having the same thoughts, wanting and wishing we could be more than friends, when in reality he knows that kissing me is probably off the table because of my exopack.

the conversation between all of us dissipates as we quiet down, all thinking about different things. i stand up and brush my legs off before saying we should head back so we can be home before eclipse. neteyam agrees while our brothers sigh with “do we have too” and “just like 5 more minutes i swear.”

we eventually all start walking back to the ikrans, lo’ak and spider racing each other. neteyam and i trail behind, talking and shoving each other and laughing. i look at him, the sunset shining on his beautiful blue skin and as it gets darker outside his freckles start shining. i realize that my feelings are futile, but it’s hard to be around the most kind, loyal, protective, beautiful man and not get attached.

i sigh, realizing i have gotten caught up in my own head again. when i look back up at him i see him with a sad smile.

“what’s wrong?” i ask.

“it’s nothing.”

“well it’s got to be something, you’re not usually sad for no reason.”

he sighs and says, “really, it’s nothing. we should try to walk faster so we get back before eclipse.”

he starts walking faster towards the ikrans, making me jog to catch up. i grab his hand and stop walking.

“neteyam, please, don’t keep stuff from me. we are best friends, and when we first became friends you promised to always tell me what’s bothering you.”

“stop digging y/n, i don’t want to talk about it right now. i just want us to laugh and talk like usual right now.”

“just tell me so that i can help you and we can go back to normal.”

“i don’t want to talk about it.”

“nete please-“

“fucking stop y/n, i’m not going going to talk about this with you.”

i stand there shocked, not used to him getting angry. he walks off and i follow after him, confused as to why he’s so mad. i know i shouldn’t have pushed but it’s not like him to be so sad.

when we get back to the ikrans lo’ak and spider immediately notice that something’s off, seeing the look on neteyam’s face. when spider and lo’ak look to me i shrug and shake my head. it’s awkwardly silent before neteyam clears his throat and says, “ y/n, how about you ride with lo’ak and spider rides with me tonight.”

lo’ak and spider both whip around and look to me, about to complain about how it’s never been this way when i just shake my head. spider raises an eyebrow at me but walks over to neteyams ikran anyways. i walk to lo’aks, waiting for his to grab me by the waist to help me but he doesn’t. i climb up, and go to hold onto his waist, but i stop and hold his shoulders.

neteyam and spider take off first, lo’ak and i soon after. we sit in science for a little before he asks, “so what happened?”

i sigh, “he just seemed off. he’s been more distant and sad lately, but i guess that’s just a journey of him becoming a man.”

“yeah well he has been stressed out about the whole ‘becoming a man and choosing a mate’ thing. it’s not like there’s not 20 girls that would die for him to stick it in them,” he snickers.

“ew come on lo’ak that’s disgusting.”

“i mean, i know who im choosing when i become a man.”

“the hottest girl who wants me, duh cuz. i mean that’s skxawng has always been picky, but now it seems like he’s trying to always want what he can’t have.”

“what do you mean?”

“come on cuz, you can’t be that blind. did you notice when he started getting all whiny earlier?”

“no? i mean after we talked i guess?”

“and we talked about what...”

i pause, trying to remember.

“ummmmm we talked about how you wanted to bang that girl we saw that was healing you and neteyam’s dumb asses, we talked about how spider is never going to find a na’vi that wants his tiny ass but let’s be honest, him and kiri totally have something going-“

“no you fucking skxawng we talked about humans and na’vi, then neteyam got all whiny and shit.”

i pause, “so?”

“so who is the human that neteyam spends all his time with?”

i stop.

“you’re saying that neteyam likes me?”

“YES THATS WHAT IVE BEEN SAYING AND YOU CLEARLY LIKE HIM TOO”

i blush and laugh, “ lo’ak, there’s no way he likes me. you said it yourself, he was like 30 hot girls lined up for him.”

“he totally does like you-“

“he totally doesn’t-“

“but you like him anyways. that’s the point, it doesn’t matter if you believe me or not because we all know that you two like each other.”

we ride back home in silence, i think about what he has said. could it neteyam actually like me too? is that why he didn’t want to talk about it with me? i wonder what would even happen if he did, it’s not like we could mate.

when we land at home, i get of lo’aks ikran and thank him for telling me. i walk to my tent and lay down, thinking about how this could change everything. i should probably talk to neteyam about it instead of just mulling it over by myself.

i decide to get up and go talk to him, even though i’m scared that lo’ak could be wrong. i mean, what if i talk to him about it and tell him i like him when he doesn’t even like me back? i stand by his family’s tent, not sure if i should go it on not.

while i’m standing there thinking, i don’t notice that neteyam walked up behind me. he taps me on the shoulder and when i turn around i see that it’s him.

“hi.”

“hey?” he says, nervously scratching his neck.

“i think we need to talk, i was about to go in and ask for you.”

“i told you i don’t want to talk about it-“

“lo’ak told me you have a crush on me.”

he stares down at me with wide eyes. i can see his cheeks turn purple as he blushes and he opens and closes his mouth, trying to say something. i grab his hand, my small one grabbing on to 3 of his fingers. i walk us over to my tent, thankfully lo’ak must have gotten spider to stay away for a little.

when we go inside my tent, neteyam looks so nervous that you would think i’m trying to shoot him. he starts rambling, “ listen i don’t know why lo’ak would tell you that because i don’t have a crush on you i mean, you’re my bestfriend that would be kind of weird right? i mean not to say that you’re not funny or pretty, because you definitely are but even if i did like you, i mean how would that even work, i’m na’vi and you’re human and we probably would even be able to kiss because of your exopack and-“

i cut him off, “neteyam, i like you.”

“you do?”

“yeah, i do.”

“but why me, why not lo’ak? or anyone else?”

i look at the floor, “because i don’t want lo’ak. i want you. i want your smile and how funny you are. i want to talk to you and go on your ikran with you. you understand me like no one else. i see you nete.”

i feel a his hand on my chin, guiding me to look up at him. he hugs me, my forehead on his chest.

“i see you y/n,” he says, kissing the top of my head.

[iliketangerines]

Hey, Tangerine! Love your x Reader fanfics! They're sooooo addictive! I'm wondering if you could write afab!reader x Fujin? I don't think you've written him yet!

Here's my request: Already in a relationship together + they're in a meadow together to forget about their troubles + reader sings him a song w/a beautiful voice, which Fujin loves + he's soft & fluffy & caring w/them, even during sex.

like an angel

a/n: i'm so glad you like my fics!! i've written them a few times, but you definitely sent this in when i had none lol

pairing: fujin x afab!reader

warnings: nsfw (MDNI), pussy eating, pussy drunk

you sit behind Fujin, his head dipped low as he dozes off, and your fingers gently comb through his hair and separate the strands to style the soft strands

the both of you were in a meadow, a slight breeze blowing through the landscape, and beautiful mountains surrounding you on every side

the trees whispered with the soft wind, and in the distance you could hear birds chirping every so often as you hummed along with their song

the two of you lay in the middle of the meadow, surrounded by flowers and sunshine, and the two of you had basked in the warmth of the sun while eating lunch

now, your fingers move through his hair slowly, making sure each strand was the extract width and length and that no strays ever slipped out of your fingertips

you try and remain gentle, stopping your humming every so often to focus on styling his hair and adding in various flowers before continuing again

tapping on his back, you tell him you’re done, and you hold up a mirror for him to see

he smiles at the sight and looks to you, thanking you for fixing his hair, and he leans toward you to give you a soft kiss

a small laugh escapes you as he kisses you, but you grab onto his shoulders nonetheless as his hands encircle your waist, bringing you even closer to him

he hums into your mouth, slightly pulling back and resting his forehead against yours, and you breathe in his scent, like the mountains and the ocean spray

Fujin mumbles that he should properly thank you for braiding his hair, giving you a small coy smile as his hands squeeze at your waist

you let out a breathy laugh and says that he doesn’t have to, that you wanted to do his hair, but he places a gentle hand onto your chest and tells you that he wants to thank you as well

his hands play with the hem of your shirt, fingers skimming the skin of your stomach, and he slowly draws your shirt up, kissing every inch of your skin that it reveals

you sigh, a slight smile playing on your lips, and you prop yourself up on your elbows to watch him, and he looks at you with a half-lidded expression as he mouths at your skin as if it tasted of the freshest fruits

he closes his eyes to take in every sense of you, your softness, your gentle breaths, your sweet taste, and he only opens his eyes to watch your face as he pushes your shirt above your chest and wraps a lip around your nipple

you look at him with a droopy expression, lips slightly parted as you stare down at him, and he closes his eyes once more to ravage  your chest

Fujin swears that you make the prettiest noises, especially as his tongue flicks over the sensitive nipple while his other hand rolls and lightly pinches the other between his fingers

you gasp and whimper at his touch, always so sensitive and reactive for him, and he thinks that he could worship you forever like this

tasting your skin with his tongue, hearing your voice echo in the air, feeling your pleasure roll through your body, it’s an addicting combination, a drug he doesn’t think he could ever get rid of

nor does he want to either

he hums and opens his eyes just enough to remove your nipples from his mouth and see the consequences of his actions, your nipple puffy and swollen

licking his lips, he switches over to the other nipple to give it the same attention, and his hands simply adjust to make sure the other never went without attention

you whine and breathe out his name, bucking your hips upwards to try and get him to move, but Fujin doesn’t budge, simply lapping at your skin

he would move on soon enough, but he wants to enjoy every part of you first

his mouth is relentless, lapping and licking at your nipple before moving onto to kissing every inch of your skin, sucking light hickies into the expanse of it

never once does he stop moaning, his hips grinding involuntarily into the blankets as he tastes you, and he groans and finally moves downward, kissing down the length of your stomach

kissing the slight pudge, he tugs at your bottoms, standing up on his knees to properly take them off of you and watch the reveal of your thighs

as soon as he’s pulled them off of your feet, he hooks your legs over his shoulders, kissing at the inside of your thighs and slightly sinking his teeth into the soft flush

he’s nearly dizzy with how your plush thighs surround his head, and he kisses and licks at every inch, desperate to have all of you

his fingers tighten their hold on you, just enough that the fat of your thighs spill between them as he places the flat of his tongue against your pussy, licking up the length of it

the tip of his tongue presses into your needy clit, and it makes your breath hitch as you finally lay yourself back down onto blanket, arms too shaky to hold yourself up anymore

you resist letting your fingers hold onto his styled hair, and you grip onto the blanket to try keep your grip on reality as he practically makes out with your pussy

he’s loud, uncaring of the noises he makes, and it barely matters with how his hearing is muffled, your thighs squeezing his head to try and bring him in closer

his tongue ravages you, flicking your clit back and forth before lapping at it firmly, and his arms only manage to drag you even closer as he dips his head low so that he can fuck you on his tongue

he grinds his nose into your clit, his tongue fucking into your, and Fujin can’t help but moan at your taste, sending vibrations rumbling through you

you whine and say that you’re close, that you’re going to cum soon, and it only spurs the god further onto dig his tongue deeper into your and grind against your clit much harsher

digging his fingers into the plush of your thighs, he leaves finger-tipped bruises and moans into your pussy, desperate to have a taste of your nectar

your back arches off the floor, and your hands fly up to his hair, tugging at the strands and messing up the flowers and carefully braided locks as you cum

however, Fujin doesn’t care, not when this was the best possible outcome, you writhing underneath him and whining his name like a prayer

he could never get enough of you, and he laps at your pussy, needy to get every single drop he could out of you

finally, he lifts his head up and blinks at you, asking if you were okay, and you frown, saying that you had messed up his hair

Fujin laughs and says that you can fix it later, but for now he wants to taste you again

with that, he dives back in, and you moan to the high heavens your prayers of his name

[azrielsdove]

Love and Loss: Ch. 2

Warnings: Angst, Su*cidal Thoughts ?, More Angst

Ch.1 | Ch.3

***

You sunk farther into the bath, allowing the hot water to cover your head. It was quiet under the water, peaceful. Your mind was blank, numb. You wished you felt anger, sadness, heartbreak, anything. Yet there was nothing there. Just a lonely, silent, emptiness.

You pushed back above the water, drinking in deep gulps of air. You liked to stay down until your lungs were burning, the pain breaking up the numbness. You stared across the water of your bath, watching the ripples extending from you. You may stay in here all day, reheating the water as needed. It was better than being out there.

Rhysand wouldn’t talk to you. He wouldn’t even look at you. Mor had taken him away to his room after his world shattering confession. You remained on your knees in the spot he was, your hands still out like they were holding his. Even Amren was shocked into silence, for once not having anything to say. The quiet in that room had felt like it was crushing you, convincing you that you were dying.

Azriel ended up breaking the frozen fear surrounding everyone, kneeling down next to you and grabbing your hands in his. You had looked at him, eyes wide in shock, no words coming to mind. He had simply nodded, pulling you up with him. He took you away from the townhouse that night, flying you up to his room at the House of Wind. He wasn’t sure you wanted to be in the one you shared with Rhys.

He placed you into his bed, carefully wrapping the covers around you. You knew he sat in a chair by the bed the whole night, watching over you. You didn’t sleep a single second, staring off into the darkness instead. When morning came Azriel tried to talk to you, finding you unwilling to move or speak. You were a shell, an empty being of who you once were. Az was patient, helping you out of bed, feeding you, forcing you to bathe. You moved at his will, never arguing. Truthfully, that only made it worse.

It had been weeks since Rhys came back from Under the Mountain, and you hadn’t spoken a word. You knew the cursebreaker he called his mate, Feyre, was engaged to the High Lord of the Spring Court. You also knew how much pain and sorrow that brought him. He was hurting, heart broken for a female he barely knew while his wife wasted away into nothingness beside him.

You pushed your head back under the water, considering the idea of not coming back up this time. How nice it is, floating under the water. Much nicer than watching your husband of 150 years pretend you never existed. You closed your eyes, tilting your head farther back in the water. Your lungs screamed for air, the only reminder that you were still alive. You felt calm, at peace.

You heard a sudden muffled shout from above the water and two strong arms were coming down, ripping your body out of the bubble you had created. You gasped and coughed as your lungs took in the air they so desperately needed, a voice much too loud in your ear.

“What are you thinking?! What are you doing?! Can I not even trust you to bathe alone anymore?!” The voice was frantic, angry. A warm towel was wrapped around your body, hands cupping your face. You were forced to look up at Azriel, panic all over his face. “Talk to me!” He shouted, hands tightening on your face.

You just stared at him.

He sighed in desperation, leaning his forehead against yours and closing his eyes. “Please. You can’t live like this. I need you to come back.” He whispered, the plea you had heard from him so many times recently. You wished you could, you wished you could break out of the nothingness in your heart. You wanted to come back stronger, fight for your husband, show him what he was losing.

But you couldn’t.

Azriel pulled away, picking you up and carrying you to the bed. He grabbed some of your clothes, dressing you as gingerly as he could. He braided your hair back, having taken the time to learn to make sure you would be as comfortable as possible. Always your greatest friend, Az was. He gave you a tea to drink, you dutifully finishing the cup in front of him. You did everything he asked, trying to hold on to some sort of routine. You didn’t notice the signs of exhaustion on Azriel’s face as he tucked you in, setting you up to sleep. You didn’t notice the tears that slid down his face once you closed your eyes, your breathing steadying off as rest overtook you. You especially didn’t hear the whispered “I love you,” as he pressed a kiss to your head.

***

Azriel POV

He couldn’t take it anymore. He understood that the mating bond could destroy someone, and he understood Rhysand was struggling. What he didn’t understand was how he allowed his wife to become this horrible empty shadow of herself. How could he not bring himself to care? Why was Azriel the only one taking care of her, everyone else tending to the poor, sad, High Lord?

He burst into the study, Rhys hunched over the maps on his desk. He looked up to see his friend walking in, giving him a smile. A smile. The bastard could smile, fake or not, and his wife was dying of heartbreak down the hall. Rhys caught on to the rage expelling from Azriel quickly, standing to face him. “To what do I owe this pleasure, Brother?” He quipped, testing if this anger was at him or not.

It was.

Azriel couldn’t help the slight shake to his voice when he spoke. “She is fading, Rhys. I am doing what I can to keep her body alive, but her mind is going.” His shadows were swirling over him and the High Lord, agitated. “Do you know where I just found her?” He shot at the unmoving male in front of him.

Rhys scoffed. “Surely I don’t know.” His no-care attitude about the whole situation pissed Azriel off even further. How can he act like it’s her fault the Cauldron mated him to someone else? Why is he punishing her for something outside of anyone’s control?

“She was under the water in her bath. Rhys, if I had gotten there seconds later I would be here to tell you to plan a funeral.” Azriel saw the flash of pain in Rhysands eyes, a small hope that he hadn’t completely abandoned her. Az latched on to this, stepping closer to the other male. “She hasn’t spoken. She doesn’t fight, she doesn’t argue anything. She takes everything that happens, no reaction.” He sighed, shadows calming down around him. “You need to talk to her.”

“No.” Rhys said, turning back to his desk. The anger rose back up in Azriel, How did he not care?!

“Why not?” He demanded, refusing to leave this study until he found anything that may help her.

“I don’t want to see her.”

“What did she do to you? What did she do wrong? Why are making her suffer?!” Azriel yelled, temper rising higher.

Rhys whipped around, dark power swirling around him. “She did nothing,” he snarled, “she is perfect. That is the problem. How do I look at my wife of 150 years and tell her I can’t be with her anymore?”

Azriel stepped back, stunned. “Feyre is set to marry someone else. You would throw away all those decades of marriage for a female who isn’t even yours?” His words were deathly quiet, bringing the thoughts out that Rhys was trying to hide.

A terrible silence swallowed the room, Rhys sinking back into his office chair. He buried his face in his hands, all the power from a second ago gone. He looked worn down, half of who he used to be. Azriel couldn’t help the pang of regret in his heart from yelling at him.

“I don’t know how to approach her. So much happened Under the Mountain, and I don’t want her to no longer want me due to it.” He looked up to Azriel with shining eyes. “How am I supposed to explain all the terrible things I did?”

Azriel stepped closer to his friend, placing a hand on his shoulder. “She never stopped loving you, Rhys. She’s hopelessly devoted to you, willing to be by your side through anything. She can handle it.” He said comfortingly. Rhys nodded and looked back at the ground.

“I will talk to her tomorrow.”

***

Reader POV

You woke up, waiting patiently for whatever breakfast Azriel had for you today. You were a little surprised that he wasn’t already by your side when you woke, but you knew he had a life outside of caring for you. A knock at the door had you looking over, sliding under the covers to walk over and open it.

Your heart stopped as you looked into the eyes of your husband. “Hi,” he said softly. You stood there unmoving, staring at him. For the first time in 50 years he was back in front of you, talking to you. “I, uh, have a lot to apologize for.” He said, rubbing the back of his neck. “Walk with me?” He held his hand out, waiting for you.

You paused for a second before complying and placing your hand in his. He held on tight, like you were his lifeline and he was dying. You walked next to him as he took you through the halls of the house, heading towards your favorite balcony. The two of you had spent many nights out here, gazing at the stars and being in love.

Things were so different now.

He pulled you outside, closing the double glass doors behind you. You looked down at the blanket he had spread on the ground, your favorite meal on top of it. Your eyes found Rhys’ again, a sheepish smile on his face. “I wanted to cheer you up.” The smile fell, regret taking its place. “I never should have allowed you to hurt for so long.” You felt a stir of emotion in your chest at the distraught look on his face. Your hands found his, giving them a gentle squeeze. You pulled him to sit next to you on the blanket, reaching down to taste the meal he prepared.

You gave a soft hum at the delicious taste on your tongue, feeling a little more whole with Rhys at your side. He was watching you, taking in your appearance. It had been so long since he had been able to study you in more than old memories. “I’ve missed you.” He whispered, waiting for a response. You looked at him for a long moment, taking in the male who was your everything.

“I missed you too,” you said back, voice extremely hoarse. Rhys looked caught between a smile and breaking down into tears. You moved closer to him, holding his hands in yours. He looked down at your joined hands before pulling you into him, wrapping his arms around you.

And he cried.

He cried and cried, holding you like he would never let you go again. “I am not who I used to be,” he sobbed into your neck, “I did terrible things down there.” He pulled back and looked at you, your hands coming to cup his face. “I did so much bad down there, just to come home and continue doing it to you.” His voice was small, broken.

“It is okay, my love.” You whispered, wiping his tears away. “I am still here.”

“Barely!” Rhys shot out, arms tightening around you. “Az told me how he found you, in the tub. I was letting you suffer, all for someone the cauldron said I was fated to.” He shook his head. “It doesn’t matter what the cauldron says. You are the only one for me.”

Your heart grew, feeling beginning to flood through you. The love you you had so desperately missed brining you back to life. You leaned forward, pressing a soft kiss to his lips. “I love you always Rhys.” You felt him smile against you, holding you closer and kissing you again.

The two of you stayed out there for hours, kissing and sharing sweet words. You felt the broken pieces of you coming back together, healed by the love pouring from your husband. You knew you could help each other recover from what had happened, that everything would be okay as long as you were together.

***

Here’s chapter 2!! please let me know what you think so far <3

[flowerandblood]

The Fall from the Heavens (24)

[ canon • Aemond x Strong • niece female ]

[ warnings: kissing, angst, anxiety, a lot of half-truths ]

[ description: A cool distance turns into friendship and more when two children see that they can find refuge and understanding in each other. However, naïve dreams collide with the reality in which every event has consequences and what once could have been love becomes a dark, newly painful obsession. Angst, sexual tension, obsession, violence, madness, very dark Aemond. ]

The story in this series is an alternate reality from the oneshot Stay and love, leave and die, in which Aemond reads the letters his niece has sent to him over the years. They are the same characters and it shows what would have happened between them − I have changed the background story from their childhood slightly for the sake of the plot.

Characters & Series Moodboard Lady Strong Moodboard Aemond & Lady Strong Moodboard Aemond & Lady Strong Childhood

Author note: For the purposes of this story, Lord Rodrik Arryn had a son and an heir, who in turn has a son of his own, to whom our Lady Strong was betrothed.

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

Next chapters: Masterlist

_____

After Alys' words and her warning, she ran out of the fortress feeling her heart pounding fast, a cold sweat on the back of her neck − it occurred to her that every servant she passed could be someone who would end her and her husband's lives.

Do not return here.

Look after yourself.

Trust no one.

As she left the walls of Harrenhal she noticed Larys Strong standing at a safe distance from her dragoness, propping himself up on his staff, a smile on his face that was sure meant to seem heartfelt and comforting.

"Your Grace. I wanted to say a proper farewell to you and your husband." He said in a calm, gentle voice, which, however, only made her more uncomfortable. She looked over her shoulder as she heard someone's footsteps and was relieved to see the figure of her husband walking towards her through the gates of the stronghold.

For a moment she felt wonderfully relieved to see him, but then she noticed the expression on his face, how pale he was, his gaze blank, his lips tightened, his gaze directed towards the Lord of Harrenhal.

"− Aemond − I must −" She muttered, grabbing his arm, wanting to speak to him before they flew away, wanting to pass on to him what she had heard from Alys.

"− not now − we are leaving immediately − my Lord −" He said in a cold, matter-of-fact tone that sent shivers through her.

She knew something had happened, something that frightened and angered him, but she didn't know for what reason − his silhouette did not even stop at her words, his eyes did not even bestow a single glance on her.

He was afraid.

Had Alys warned him too?

Was that why he wanted to leave Harrenhal as soon as possible?

Somehow comforted by this thought, she nodded in front of Larys Strong, heading immediately towards Larax, who was watching them vigilantly from afar, anxious and tense. She climbed up onto her saddle and, not wanting to stay there a moment longer, had her head high into the sky.

It wasn't until the wind blew her hair tied up in a braid and she sunk between the clouds that she felt relieved, the grim silhouette of the walls and fortress of Harrenhal fading away until it finally disappeared completely into the distance over her shoulder.

She swallowed hard as she caught sight of the mighty figure of Vhagar soaring upwards in the distance, higher and higher, approaching them like a giant, dark, flying mountain.

As she flew over them Larax was much calmer than the first time, having been used to her scent and presence after travelling for hours the day before.

Even though she was about to see her mother for the first time in months, even though she was flying towards hope she felt terrified, her throat squeezed in anxiety, for some reason a cold sweat ran down the back of her neck.

I saw in my dream a river of blood taking the shape of a dragon's head wearing a crown.

I saw red flooding everything around me.

She pressed her lips together, thinking of Helaena saying something similar to her then, after she wanted to take her own life.

From the mingled blood will emerge a dragon’s crown.

She wasn't sure what this words might have meant.

Who was this prophecy referring to? Was it about someone's birth, or perhaps someone's death? Her marriage to her uncle? Was something about to happen that would change everything?

It terrified her that so much depended on whether she could convince her mother that war might be avoided.

Their journey to the Eyrie was far shorter and more pleasant than the one from King's Landing to Harrenhal, the sun shining high above their heads. She, unlike her husband, who had to fly high over the peaks, could dash on Larax between the crevices of the mountains.

When she finally caught sight of her grandmother's ancestral stronghold in the distance she felt heat filling her chest, a premonition that what they were about to do would change everything.

She landed at the bottom of the valley among the fields, knowing that they both had a way to walk to the top anyway. Vhagar took a moment to take her place right next to Larax, her large paws hitting the ground, causing dust and ashes to rise all around them.

She moved towards her husband as soon as she saw him slip down the ropes from her back to the ground, ordering loudly for Vhagar to stay calmly in place.

"− uncle −"

"− we'll tell them you're expecting my child −" He said suddenly, looking at her at last, his gaze dark, grim, sharp, weary. She blinked quickly, feeling her heart begin to pound like mad, and shook her head in disbelief at what he was suggesting.

"− what? − Aemond, we can't lie, not now −" She muttered, moving behind him as soon as he began to walk ahead, towards the trail that led them up the hill to the fortress itself.

He avoided her gaze, for some reason he couldn't look her in the face.

Why?

"− they must agree to our terms − I will not discuss my decisions with you −" He said in a tone from which she felt rage and discomfort − she stepped in front of him and smacked his chest with her palms to stop him. He actually stood in a half-step, looking at her with furrowed brows, furious, his jaw clenched.

"− you will − you don't know them as well as you do − Daemon can sense the lie, he will see it in your eyes − do you think that once they understand that you are manipulating them they will agree to whatever conditions you set for them? −" She asked with anger and disbelief that he dared to suggest that they would lie to her family and destroy everything they had managed to build up to that point.

What was happening to him?

She saw that he swallowed hard at her words, as if something in what she had said had made him snap, his face even paler than when they had flown away from Harrenhal.

"− that fucking witch − what did she say to you? −" He muttered wearily, as if he could barely get anything out of himself. She swallowed loudly, not knowing what she should answer him.

What if her prediction frightened him even more?

What if it makes him change his mind at the last moment, make him say they were returning to King's Landing immediately?

She thought, horrified, that she could reveal to him only part of the truth.

"− that we should not return to Harrenhal − that I should watch out for myself and trust no one −" She mumbled, looking at him uncertainly; she saw that something had changed in his expression, his lips had pressed together in a thin line, his eyes had glazed over.

Wanting to soften her words and the tension that reigned between them she walked over to him and touched his upper arms, stroking them reassuringly with her palms, looking straight into his empty, dark eye.

That look frightened her, but she knew, she felt, that he needed her now − something in him was screaming that he was dying inside, but she didn't understand what was the cause of it.

"− husband, what happened? − if you have doubts, let's discuss everything − but please don't close yourself in the fortress of your mind −" She mumbled pleadingly, feeling for some reason tears under her eyelids, some strange conviction that he was distancing himself from her, when just at night his lips, his hands caressed her so wonderfully, so tenderly.

He looked at her as if hesitating, his lower lip trembling slightly, his nostrils twitching in uneven, accelerated breathing. His gaze softened as she took his face in her hands, his eyelids closed as her thumbs began to stroke his wind-cold cheeks.

"− uncle − look at me − I am your ally − I always have been −"

"You're your parents' child too. Just like me. What will you do when one of them demands the other's head?" He asked lowly and his eye opened; she saw something unsettling in his gaze, some glint that told her he was distrustful again, that he was hesitant again.

Why?

How could he doubt her after all this time?

"− I will never agree to this − despite what your grandfather and your mother did to me, I will not agree for them to be harmed if you assure me to do the same − you know that I am not driven by revenge − and you? − you are the one who constantly doubts me, however, ever since I appeared in King's Landing you have been the one to let me down − yet I remain faithful to you − I chose you, uncle, when will you understand it? − when will you understand that there is no other way for me but by your side even if I come to burn? −"

She asked in a trembling, breaking voice, angry and disappointed that although she had proved to him so many times the sincerity of her feelings, he still demanded more from her.

But what had he given her in return?

How had he proved that she could trust him?

Their nuptials had been an expression of his love and desire, but she had never heard from his lips what he himself had planned and whether he stood by the words of the letter he had written to her before he flew away to Storm's End.

She saw that his eyebrows arched in pain, his eyes turned red and glassy, his body tensed all over as if he was trying to fight what he felt because of her.

He looked at her as if some part of him was wishing he could see the shadow of a lie in her eyes, his face expressing the enormity of some kind of weariness and helplessness from which she felt her heart squeeze.

She drew in a loud breath as his large hand rose to the height of her face, as his fingers took the unruly strands of her hair from her face, his thumb running over her cheek down the side of her jaw.

"Can I kiss you?" She asked in a whisper, exactly as she had then, that day − she knew he felt something intense at her words, she could see it in the way he took in a breath, in his gaze that grew soft and hot, in his lips that parted in some subconscious reflex, betraying his desire.

Their lips clung to each other as soon as he leaned in, his hum of satisfaction echoing in her throat as she threw her hands around his neck, his arms embracing her waist. She pulled away from him with a quiet, soft click, combing her fingers through his soft, long hair, feeling her lower abdomen squeeze as the words he'd also said that day burst involuntarily from his lips.

"One more time."

This time her kiss was more greedy and wet, her lips pressed into his, parted invitingly, the tips of their tongues licking each other lazily making them both breathless. She felt something warm against her cheek and only after a moment, again and again sinking into the softness of his lips did she realise it was his tears.

He was crying.

"I love you." He whispered between one kiss and the next, stroking her hair and back with his wide, rough hands. "I've always loved you."

Something in the way he said it, in his trembling, broken voice, in the depth with which those words left her throat, and the fact that he had referred to her confession just after their first nuptials made her let herself weep quietly as well.

She didn't believe she would ever hear it from his lips and she had come to terms with it.

That was just the way he was.

So how scared must he have been, what was happening in the depths of his heart that such a confession had left his mouth?

"− I feel that some weight has crushed you, my beloved − it covers you like a heavy black cloak − but I am by your side − I am with you − trust me − I know how to speak with them, I know them −" She mumbled pleadingly, holding his face in her hands. She heard something between a moan and a sigh leave his throat, his forehead pressed against hers.

He gave in.

"− will you be by my side even when all is lost? − even if there is nothing left but darkness? −" He whispered in a helpless, low, trembling voice, and she felt his question and the way he said it deep in her heart, which clenched all over. Even so, she smiled, her fingertips running over his skin.

"− yes − don't go the path I could not follow − let me stay by your side − if I am to leave this world, I want to die in your arms −" She said softly, warmly, her words like a sigh. She felt his fingers tighten on the material of her leather coat, his hot, uneven breath framing her face.

"− so be it − fall with me −" He breathed out before his lips clung to hers in a deep, hot, sticky kiss filled with so many feelings that she felt her voice get stuck in her throat.

He had made a decision, whatever it might be, and her heart hoped that he had decided to trust her and follow her.

Wherever she would lead him.

They moved ahead, heading towards the fortress they could see in the distance − she noticed out of the corner of her eye that he threw her a surprised look when he felt her small hand slip into his, tightening on his fingers.

He pressed his lips together as he looked at her, squeezing her fingers in his before he let her go, not wanting any guard to see it.

They walked the path to the top of the mountain side by side in silence, escorted by the eyes of the guards standing over their heads. Only when they reached the fortress gate itself did one of them, presumably their commander, address them.

"Who comes here and with what matter?"

"Prince Aemond and his wife are coming to meet Prince Daemon and Princess Rheanyra." Her husband replied coldly; it did not escape her or the man standing on the walls above them that he had not called her Queen.

Only when she looked into the distance did she see the silhouettes of two dragons, blood red and gold, shimmering in the sunlight.

They had arrived.

Her mother and her stepfather were indeed ready to listen to them.

After a while, the gates of the stronghold opened before them, and they were led inside; she had only been in the Eyrie once before, in the company of her mother, and even then the place had made a great impression on her.

Unlike the Red Keep, the Eyrie was a stronghold built of mountain stones, making the fortress inside seem much cooler and more spacious, the windows in the walls much smaller, created for defensive purposes so that archers could not take them as their target.

The Eyrie was a defensive stronghold almost impossible to conquer even with dragons − its lords could defend themselves in it for months, hiding from the flames deep in the underground of the mountain with larders filled with supplies.

She was snapped out of her reverie by the figure of a man she recognised with difficulty, and at the sight of whom her husband stopped, furious, refusing to take any further step towards him.

The grandson of Lord Rodrik Arryn, the father of her grandmother, Aemma, Ronnel Arryn, heir of the Eyrie appeared before them in an ornate blue tunic reaching his knees, despite the smile on his lips, a coldness shone from his eyes.

She thought with pain that she barely remembered him as a child. He was weepy and angry whenever he lost when they played, so she and her brothers had to let him win once in a while to calm him down.

As then, he had light, curly hair, although as a child he had been slightly plump now he had grown, clearly choosing an attire that best emphasised his muscles.

Her would-be betrothed.

She saw the way her cousin looked at her uncle, the corner of his mouth lifting in a mocking smirk when he finally glanced at his black eye patch.

"My Prince. My dear cousin. My aunt and her husband are already waiting for you." He said in a soft, low tone, pointing with his hand in the direction they were supposed to go. She nodded, smiling warmly, feeling the enormity of the awkwardness of this meeting – she heard her husband move behind her, tense, not taking his eyes off him.

Ronnel led them to one of the chambers, which was apparently used for council. When he opened the door the first thing that caught her eye was a huge circular table, behind which stretched an entrance to the balcony, the entire room shaped like an ellipse.

An involuntary sigh left her lips when she saw her mother, Rhaenyra rose from her seat, looking at her and only her, her father's crown of pure gold on her head.

"My child." Mumbled her mother, her Queen, walking towards her, and she immediately ran to meet her, falling into her arms. She tightened her fingers on her back, feeling her familiar, wonderful scent, the smell of home and safety, of everything that was so close to her, and that she had lost and thought she would never regain again.

Her mother let go of her and took her hands in hers, uncovering her wrists, her thumbs began to stroke and trail over her scars, evidence of what she was trying to do.

"My only daughter." She muttered with regret and pain as she looked at the pale lines on her skin, clearly imagining what she must have felt when she undertook this desperate act.

"I'm well, mother. My Queen." She muttered and bowed to her, reminding herself of who she was, stiffly not bowing to Aegon or using the titles he believed were due to him as King.

However, he never punished her for this.

She remembered then with a rapidly pounding heart about her husband and turned over her shoulder – her uncle and father looked at each other from afar, standing on either side of the room, Daemon grinning in a way that was disturbing to say the least.

He was mocking him, wanting to provoke him, she knew that.

"I would like to express my gratitude to you for being willing to listen to us. I know the suffering and humiliation all this has caused you. I pray every night that the gods will welcome my prematurely deceased sister into the heavens." She said in a voice trembling with emotion, her mother swallowed hard, lifting her chin high, wanting to maintain her dignity and not lose her temper. She nodded, showing her that she accepted her condolences and the apology in her heart.

"Let's sit down." She said calmly and took her seat at the table first, she sat on the other side, however neither Daemon nor her uncle moved from their places.

They both had their daggers and swords at their belts, ready for whatever the conversation might bring.

Her mother grunted loudly, trying to remain solemn and calm, glancing at her half-brother then at her. She placed her hands in front of her on the table top, in an involuntary reflex playing with the ring on her middle finger that she had inherited from her mother.

"My husband has conveyed to me that my brother-usurper wants to pact over the succession of the throne he himself has unlawfully taken. I must admit that this is a quite ridiculous situation." She confessed in a trembling voice filled with grief, fatigue and the humiliation she had carried on her shoulders since that ill-fated supper.

She glanced over her shoulder at her uncle-husband, who was looking at her expectantly. She swallowed loudly at the thought of him not even uttering a word.

He was letting her speak.

He had decided to trust her.

She turned back to her mother and drew in a loud breath, gathering her courage.

"My uncle, Prince Aegon, had no choice. His mother is deeply convinced that her husband, my grandfather, and our King, revealed his final will to her before he died. She mentioned to my husband about the Prince who was promised, about Aegon's dream. I think she misunderstood him, mother, I…" She fell silent as she saw her Queen turn to Daemon, clearly shocked by something she had heard, her father looking at her with his lips clenched.

They knew something.

"Mother?" She muttered uncertainly. Rheanyra gave her a quick, uncertain look, her chest rising and falling in accelerated, heavy breathing.

"Aegon the Conqueror's Dream. A Song of Ice and Fire. This is the prophecy my father spoke to me about. Whatever Alicent heard, it did not apply to her firstborn son." She said with certainty and thrill, as if something had suddenly become obvious to her.

"You mean to say that our father only conveyed the contents of this prophecy to you, but you don't believe my mother that he could have passed on to her that he changed his mind regarding the succession?" She heard her husband's angry, frustrated voice behind her. She turned to him, looking at him pleadingly, but his black gaze was fixed on his sister.

Rhaenyra drew in a breath and twisted restlessly in her seat, Daemon standing at her side shifted from foot to foot, frowning an eyebrow at the sound of his tone.

"Calm down, nephew. You are speaking to the Queen."

"She is not my Queen." Her uncle hissed, looking at Daemon with a look as if completely overwhelmed by madness, her heart starting to pound like mad as her father's hand went to the hilt of his Dark Sister.

"That's enough. We have met here because Aegon realises, as you do Mother, that his and your children's rights to the throne will be challenged, and the war will not end with your death." She said quickly, her mother throwing her an anxious, chastising look, as if she were looking at a small child.

"Are you undermining Jace, my firstborn son's right to the throne?" She asked in an embittered, trembling voice. She swallowed hard, feeling she had to do it.

She had to force them to agree.

"He's a bastard, mother. Like me, Luke and Joffrey, he cannot inherit the throne. Will you cut off my tongue for those words? Will you deprive me of my head, father?" She asked drily, looking at her mother and then the father – their faces expressed shock and horror that she dared to say it out loud, her husband stirred behind her back, anxious.

"We just lie and lie and lie until in the end we ourselves don't know where the truth is, but it is there somewhere, always, and sooner or later none of us will be able to deny it even if we beheaded all the men in the Seven Kingdoms."

"How dare you say such a thing? Your father, Laenor Velaryon acknowledged you and your brothers as his heirs. He gave you his name, recognised you as his child in the eyes of the Kingdom." Her mother muttered with a voice full of disappointment, anger and regret from which her heart squeezed.

"But the whole Kingdom knows, mother. Even if Jace were to sit on the throne after your death, his lineage will not be forgotten. Are you prepared to die knowing that neither he nor his children will ever be safe? That, like my uncle's coronation, his coronation would also be challenged by lords across the Kingdom?"

She asked, tired and terrified at the turn this conversation had taken, the things that were leaving her lungs, but she realised at last that everything she had said was true.

"I know what humiliation you experienced, mother, and how much suffering you endured. Believe me that I did too. I, too, do not believe my grandfather would change his mind on his deathbed. I did not and do not recognise Aegon as King, nor have I ever called him that or given him the honour he deserves.

However, if we do not find an agreement, war will break out not only in the Realm, but in our family. This is what King Viserys wanted to prevent at the last supper before his death. Mother, after all, you are siblings. Your brother, though a traitor, extends his hand, he is ready to relinquish the crown he stole from you."

Rhaenyra looked at her with her lips clenched, pale, tears of pain, grief and despair in her eyes, for here was her own daughter trying to say to her that she should give up her inheritance, something she was entitled to by all rights, something she had been preparing for all her life.

She glanced over her shoulder at Daemon, who was looking at her impassively, frustrated – she knew that gaze and she knew he was furious, but he did not speak, making it clear to her that the final decision was hers alone.

This was her crown.

Her throne.

And he, as always, stood faithfully by her side.

Her mother swallowed hard, turning towards her, fiddling with the fingers of her hands, clearly nervous.

"I can consider the terms my husband has conveyed to me, but I also have my conditions. I will agree that it is your children who will inherit the Iron Throne, and you will be named as ruler-regents only if there are two kings, and you will be one of them.

You and your husband will share the power of the Kingdom equally and neither of you will sit on the throne or wear the crown. Aegon the Conqueror's crown and my father's crown will be kept in the treasury.

In addition, my husband and I will sit on the Small Council, and deprived of their seats will be your grandfather and Alicent. In addition, Otto Hightower will be stripped of all other functions and privileges and will reside under our oversight in King's Landing.

Jace will inherit Dragonstone as my first-born son. If no male heir is born to you, the official heirs will be the children from my and my uncle's marriage, pureblood Targaryens."

She looked at her mother in disbelief feeling her heart pounding like mad, a cold sweat running down her back.

I will agree that it is your children who will inherit the Iron Throne, and you will be named as ruler-regents only if there are two kings, and you will be one of them.

She wanted her to be not her husband's queen, but another independent ruler at his side.

In some subconscious, involuntary reflex, she turned over her shoulder to look at her husband's face – his healthy eye was open wide in shock, his figure all tense. She saw him swallow hard, glancing at her out of the corner of his eye, and then he nodded uncertainly and slowly.

He agreed.

She looked again at her mother, who was looking at her brother with her lips tightened – a quiet sigh of relief left her lips when she saw her Queen also nod.

"Pass on my words to my brother. Let him know that this is not just about my pride, but about the welfare of the Kingdom and our family. That I respect my father's will and hope that he will do the same."

She said in a breaking voice, from which she felt a squeeze in her heart, a grief at the thought that her mother, her Queen, for her and her family's sake, had to give up what was rightfully hers, what she had dreamed of all her life.

In her eyes, it testified to her greatness, to her maturity, to her loyalty to the affairs of the Realm.

She would make a fine Queen, she thought with regret.

Her mother grunted loudly, trying to calm herself, and straightened up in her seat.

"You are surely exhausted. My cousin has prepared chambers for you where you can rest to set off on your return journey as we will tomorrow morning. Let us have supper together. I have been separated from my only daughter for too long." She said matter-of-factly, glancing at her brother.

She wanted to respond already, knowing full well that her uncle had no intention of remaining in this place for a moment longer, however, he was the first to speak, startling her.

"No." He said coolly. "We'll spend the night in Dragonstone."

[wangxianficfinder]

Fic Finder

Oct 16th

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1. Hello! I would like to reread a story but forgot the title. It’s a fix-it I think lan zhan was thrown back in time in CR study arc and wei ying saw it because there’s a light and he hear a shout then Lan Zhan was unconscious. Thank you so much

FOUND? in a dream, i was home by thelastdboy (M, 25k, WangXian, POV LWJ, Canon Divergence, Post-First Siege of the Burial Mounds, Time Travel Fix-It, Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Cloud Recesses Study Arc, Different First Meeting, Getting Together, Friends to Lovers, Sentient Burial Mounds, CSSR and WCZ Live, Families of Choice, Protective LWJ, Everybody Lives, Temporary Character Death, Grief/Mourning, Cloud Recesses Shenanigans, WWX Leaves the Yunmeng Jiang Sect, Golden Core Reveal, Fluff, Developing Relationship, Wen Remnants Live, WQ Lives, WN Lives, No Sunshot Campaign, BAMF WWX)

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2. Hi I saw someone ask this here but never saw the fic. I'm looking for a fic, It's where lwj leave the sect gives money and valuables to the wen remnants and lxc ask for rabbit as some kind of compensation. Op said some girls were braiding lwj hair by the end being vain and lan sect saw this. Thank you so much I hope you help me

FOUND?🔒Unpack Your Heart by Terri Botta (Isilwath) (T, 22k, wangxian, Romance, Everybody Lives, Canon Divergence, LWJ Has Feelings, Protective LWJ, Burial Mounds Settlement Days, LWJ Stays at the Burial Mounds, Burial Mounds Ensemble as Family, Wangxian in Love, YLLZ WWX, Lan Clan Elders are Assholes, Minor Transgender Character, Qiongqi Path Divergence, LWJ loves his bunnies)

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3. hi there!!! this is for the next fic finder. i am looking for a twt threadfic which had wwx and lwj as academic rivals. i really don't remember much of it except there was a moment where lwj says smth really mean to wwx after he got lesser marks than him, and wwx starts crying a bit (???) and lwj is like Oh No What Have I Done. that was the last update that i read and idek if there's more or not. can anyone help?

thank you everyone!!

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4. I am trying to find a Fic where Lan Zhan goes to Lotus Pier to ruin them for being rejected. He learns that Wei Ying never rejected him but Madum Yu did. She is punished and Lan zhan asks Jiang Yanli permission to marry Wei ying.

FOUND? Warrior Prince by QteCuttlfish (M, 3k, WangXian, Threats of Rape/Non-Con Angst with a Happy Ending, Omega Verse, Omega WWX, Alpha LWJ, Implied Mpreg, Not Canon Compliant)

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5. Hi! I’m looking for this modern college E fic where WWX is like a tatted punk and he overhears that LWJ is basically a sex god who didn’t do seconds. He hears that LWJ is into a guy in his department with last name Wei and confronts him. They bone and he sees that LWJ has a nip piercing and a tattoo that WWX designed a while ago tysmia

FOUND? So I love you because I know no other way than this by Trueredhearts (E, 20k, WangXian, Modern AU, CSSR and WCZ Live, College/University, Tattoos, Nipple Piercings, Genital Piercing, Law Student!LWJ, Engineering Student!WWX, Childhood Friends, Explicit Sexual Content, Graduate School)

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6. Hi 👋 a ff where lan Zhan give wei Ying name wei Wuxian. Wei Ying lock BS in her mountain. Wei Ying Sect leader. BM all clear. JC lock his parents. Save XY . Wei Ying make JGY Sect leader of jin . Yiling best city. Control world . Slap Tham in there language. @richie-234

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7. Hello I'm looking for a fic where wwx is a god, a prince to be exact. He meets lwj while visiting. I think they get betrothed but lwj does not know his real identity. I think by the end wwx and his entire family came down an while they were in line he was waving at lwj.

FOUND? cloudy autumn heaps the sky by anatheme (T, 23k, WangXian, Fantasy, Universe Alteration, Secret Identity, Dragon LWJ, Fox WWX, Strangers to Friends to Lovers, Timeline What Timeline, wwx is a little older here, wwx piling gifts on lwj and encouraging hoarding tendencies, Sharing a Bed, Literal Sleeping Together, Arranged Marriage)

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8. Fic finder plz!

LQR owns a cat cafe and LWJ and LXC are like very pretty ragdoll cats and WWX is this gremlin sphinx cat that eventually wins over LWJ.

LQR isn’t happy about this though and has JC keep WWX locked up so he can’t come and bother LWJ but it all ends happy. I’ve tried searching cat LWJ and cat WWX and nothing comes up. Help! 😭😭

FOUND! allopatry by Anonymous (T, 4k, WangXian, Modern AU, Cats, not in a catboy sense they're actual cats, wwx's propensity for annoying lqr transcends species, codependent cats as a catalyst for, lqr + jiang sibs friendship) I searched cat Cafe 🐈 😻

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9. Hi! I'm looking for a fic similar to one I read called play fighting where Lan Qiren had adopted Wei Wuxian and they grew up together. Or like where Wei Ying ends up growing up in the Lan sect and he and Lan Zhan are like childhood friends or super close growing up.

FOUND? 藍色的花，紅色的蘭 {Lan se de hua, hongse de lan} by Admiranda, AshayaTReldai (M, 45k, WIP, WangXian, Orphan WWX, Friends to Lovers, Childhood Friends, wwx raised in the lan clan, softer lqr, Good Uncle LQR, Good lan clan, Good Older Sibling LXC)

FOUND? 🔒 Life is Like a Stranger by through_shadows_falling (T, 69k, wangxian, Kid Fic, Child LWJ, Child WWX, First Meetings, Canon Divergence, Cute Kids, Orphan WWX, Autism Spectrum, Fix-It, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Alternate Canon, POV LWJ, Growing Up Together, WWX raised at Cloud Recesses, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Puberty, Growing Up, Coming Out, teenage angst, Wet Dream, Pining, This fic gets a little raunchier as the kids become teens, But it won’t get too explicit, Slow Burn, Friends to Lovers, Spanish Translation, Brief mentions/moments of WWX kissing others in chapter 22 but only on the cheek, also characters kiss WWX on the cheek in chapter 23, but his real first kiss is with LWJ, Перевод на русский | Translation in Russian)

FOUND? 🧡 All will be well when the day is done by abCEE (T, 76k, WangXIan, Canon Divergence, Fix It, Not Jiang Family Friendly, JFM & YZY Bashing, Fix it for our main characters, Time Travel, Butterfly Effect, Madam Lan Lives, No Sunshot Campaign, Artistic License, Unreliable Narrator, JC Bashing, non-yunmeng WWX, Accidental Baby Acquisition, Good Uncle LQR, OOC, WangXian Get a Happy Ending, WWX gets the love and care that he deserves from the very beginning, WWX Isn’t Adopted by the Jiangs, verbal and physical (c/o Zidian) abuse from YZY)

FOUND? safe here with me by xcourtney_chaoticx (G, 3k, WangXian, Family Feels, Good Uncle LQR, WWX Goes to Gusu, Fluff, Childhood Friends, Friends to Lovers, Food Issues, Endgame WangXian)

FOUND? soft-hearted by sarahyyy (G, 6k, wangxian, alternate universe, childhood friends, hurt/comfort, getting together, first kiss, wedding fluff)

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10. Hello! I'm looking for this wangxian fic I don't remember the name, but it's based on a song by Olivia Rodrigo, there is no happy ending between wangxian 💔

FOUND?🔒 drivers license by AG1234VL (T, 11k, WangXian, WangMian, WWX/Other, Breakup, Hurt No Comfort, slight comfort, Non-Chronological, Song fic, Crying WWX, Driving, breakup weight gain, Lots of Crying, Angst, Modern AU, Homophobia, from lqr, wangxian breakup)

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11. Hi, I'm looking for a fic i read some time ago but i can't seem to find. Basically the great sects had isolated themselves for sometime and WRH still tried to burn CR but the Lan won that war , alone i think, and like they demanded a war prize/hostage/concubine? and YMJ with the other twos support , i think, sent WWX for the Lan's leader LWJ who was surprised by WWX's very feminine and very much marriage robes. So the Jiang and the Jin and the Nie got it wrong but LWJ lets him stay, I think it's been a while and they fall in love for real and LWJ reveals that his brother has been in a coma for some time. Anyway WX went to the Crowd hunt the Jin are trowing and YZY got very angry at like WWX being at her level socially, the spouse of a sect leader and then WX went home and LXC woke up and that's all i know because the fic had like 26/28/20 something chapters in total and it was a WIP and only one or two chpaters left till it was done. I don't know if it is still a WIP. @secretartquotes

FOUND? golden when the day met the night by glitteringmoonlight (Not rated, 95k, slow burn, sugar daddy LWJ, light, angst, fluff, developing relationship, eventual smut, WIP)

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12. Hello, thank you for your page.English is not my first language, so I'm using a translator .Wei Ying is a web novel writer, from a fairly prestigious academy. The web novel he writes is quite popular. He was hired for a reality TV show/music competition as a translator. In the end, he also ends up as a contestant because there are not enough competitors. Every week he tells the public to eliminate him because he's just there as filler. Lan Zhan, I think he's a music coach in the reality TV show @lilassoleil

FOUND! 🧡 I Don't Want to Debut! by countingcr0ws (G, 56k, WangXian, Modern AU, Reality show, Idols, Actor LWJ, Forced Contestant WWX, Tencent's 2021 Idol Producer)

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13. Hello! First, I really love the work you do. I'm looking for a fic I read and can't find it anymore. So it's Modern AU, set in high school. Wei Ying is a cheerleader who likes wearing skirts and Lan Zhan is athletic. They didn't like eachother if I'm not wrong but had a contractual relationship like fake dating(I think). The fic had beautiful fan art and in one of them Wei Ying wore a crop top and a cheerleader skirt. Thank you in advance. @mamaladeskies

FOUND! drop the game by martyrsdaughter (E, 28k, wangxian, modern, romantic comedy, fake/pretend relationship, sports, cheerleaders, flirting, sexual tension, dom/sub undertones, compulsory heterosexuality, crossdressing, dub con, under-negotiated kink, consensual non-con)

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14. The fic has Jiang Cheng preserving Wei Wuxian and Jiang Yanli's body, a magical plant and coffin used. this was a oneshot on ao3. but Wei Wuxian definitely had and older sibling vibe when he got suspicious on what Jiang Cheng was doing. @eclipse-summer

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15. Hey, kinda a weird req, but I’m trying to find this wangxian fic where WW pretty much manages to get a dildo stick in his butt, and then he an LW have to go to the hospital to get it removed. Think it was modern au. Tysm for the help!

FOUND? can you feel it by lanzhancore (E, 5k, WangXian, Modern AU, Awkward Sexual Situations, Established Relationship, Hospitals, Slice of Life, Fluff and Humor, Idiot Lovers, Crack Treated Seriously)

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16. Hiii, for the next fic finder, there was a wei ying/lan zhan fic where they had a relationship around shibari + bondage and nhs tricked wy into walking right up to lz at a party and asking him to tie him up - it turned out that lz had always been super exclusive he had just been pining for wy from afar and agreed to do it and the rest is beautifully written, emotionally literate history. I read it about 17 thousand times but didn't bookmark or download it like a fool!! If its been deleted, does anyone know if the author is fine with people privately sharing? @lockandkeay

FOUND! Ember burning low by wanderingflame (E, 62k, WangXian, LXC/NMJ, BDSM, Dominant LWJ, Submissive WWX, Bottom LWJ, Kink Negotiation, Kink Exploration, Sensation Play, Kneeling, Rope Bondage, Aftercare, Non-Sexual D/s scenes, Non-Sexual Submission, Oral Sex, Anal Sex, Public Scene (Non-Sexual), Minor Retrograde Amnesia, safe words, Use of Safe Words, JC is not the most understanding when it comes to BDSM, Orgasm Delay, Porn with Feelings)

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17. Hi!! Hoping that you can help me coz I’m really desperate rn 🥹🤧. I’m looking for a Xichen x Jiang Cheng fanfic where they had a daughter but lxc didn’t know cos he was in seclusion after the death of meng yao and when he got out of seclusion he help this little girl on the streets and the girl brought him to lotus pier to thank him and that’s when he found out the girl was Jiang Chengs daughter. 🥹 I’ve been looking for this everywhere but I can’t find it, please help me 😭🙏. Thank youuu @zosansss-blog

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18. Hiiiii! I hope you all are well! Boy it’s been a long time since I was here. I finally learned how to bookmark so I was not losing track *that* much, but today I was bored and tried to channel my inner MY/JGY and read at work. (Without logging to my account because i don’t want to give my co-workers another reason to think I am crazy).

But back to reason, i need your help lovelies. I am looking for a fic. LQR can read music and he bumped into NMJ and he heard the Turmoil song. He thinks LXC is poisoning him so he goes and ask WWX for help and basically it was a major Canon Divergence. That is where i had to close the tab. I would really appreciate all the help. THANK YOU!!

FOUND? Polyphonic by nirejseki (Not Rated, 14k, NMJ/LXC, WangXian, LXC & LQR & LWJ, WIP, odd abilities, Family Drama, Investigations)

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19. Hi! I'm looking for a fic where the best way I can describe it is WWX has a magic sex toy that is keyed into his own body which LWJ then confiscates and later uses not knowing it's keyed to WWX. I believe it's during the CR arc but not sure how the fic was tagged so haven't been able to pull it up and I don't remember much beyond that. Thanks for all you do!

FOUND? 🔒 The Golden Cutsleeve by syrus_jones (E, 77k, WangXian, Crack Treated Seriously, Fluff and Crack, Humor, Aged-Up Character(s), WWX POV, WWX is a gremlin, Internally Screaming LWJ, No Sunshot Campaign, First Times, Accidental Sex, Masturbation, PWP, Porn with Feelings, WWX experimenting with things he shouldn’t like always, Happy Ending, Porn With Plot)

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20. Hi! Thank you for your hard work! I'm looking for 2 fics today, but I really want to find the first one. A) It's arranged marriage fic, LWJ is some sort of royalty. After the wedding (I think?) WWX is sent to live in a separate palace (?) He and the Wens (I can't remember why they're there) start a farm to make money (and have food?) to fix up the palace which I think was in some state of disrepair. Eventually he LWJ notices and starts to send gifts and such. I feel like there's something about a dragonfruit? But maybe that's a different fic?

B) The second one I'm looking for is a modern mob au, wwx asks lwj to watch a plant and then disappears for a year, or something like that. I'm sure I probably found it on here, but I must be overlooking it @iluvshikamaru

Hi! 20a is definitely sowing seeds in the cold palace! Thank you so much, it was driving me crazy!

20b is not lightning in a bottle, but it was a delight to read so ty for the suggestion! I seem to remember that jc shows up to kidnap lz at some point, and that lz was also part of the mob/mafia but has retired from it?

20A)

NOT FOUND! The Legend of Moonflower by JJSIN2020 (E, 135k, wangxian, 3zun, A/B/O, Emperor LWJ, LWJ FUCKS, he has a whole harem of male omegas so of course he does, Alpha LWJ, Omega WWX, Beta LXC, Omega JC, Omega XY, Omega XXC, omega SS, Omega OYZZ, Beta NHS, Mpreg, Wolves, Angst with a Happy Ending, Imperial China, Character Death, Fighting, Blood)

FOUND! 我的皇后是農民 | sowing seeds in the cold palace by sweetlolixo (E, 84k, WangXian, Imperial Palace, Emperor LWJ, Imperial Consort WWX, Farmer WWX, Angst, Romance, Wingman LJY, Wife-chasing-LWJ, Arranged Marriage, Best Boy A-Yuan)

20B)

NOT FOUND! lightning in a bottle by bigbabyjeno (E, 10k, WangXian, Modern AU, Photographer LWJ, Wedding Crasher WWX, Erotic Palm Reading, Fluff and Smut) fun fact I remembered the fic and that it was a ficus plant and the fic came up when I searched ficus 🤣

FOUND! See What I've Become by Vamillepudding (T, 24k, WangXian, Mob, YLLZ WWX, Hurt/Comfort, LWJ Needs a Hug, Sickfic, Protective WWX)

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[mountkennedie]

Straggler

Kili Durin x human!reader

Summary: An au where everyone lives happily in erebor and kili is in love with you (lucky)

Warnings: ONLY TWO uses of y/n, and fluff ofc

A.N. i love kili and he loves me tbh.

Bagginshield mention lol.

Also: -ê khi love: my one love and Ghivashel: treasure of all treasures

Kili is 4'8, Reader is around 5'4

"You look beautiful in the sunlight," the dwarf beside you said. You jumped, you swore when you left this morning, and you didn't have any stragglers. However, here you are, with Kili Durin on your tracks. You weren't going to lie, you enjoyed the princes company, if only he gave you a warning beforehand.

You all had been thriving in Erebor upon a year now. Now that things had settled and riches distributed, everyone was able to return to a simpler life. Ori began exploring crochet after mastering knit. You enjoyed going on walks around the mountain, and Kili enjoyed you.

You looked down to him and furrowed your eyebrows, unsure if you heard what you thought you did. "I said um," he began to look sheepish, "you look beautiful in the sunlight, Y/n."

"Thank you," you bowed your head in appreciation, then began to continue your stroll when he said, "Wait!" He grasped your forearm, "may I join you this morning?" He gave you a warm smile in addition to the sweet eyes you could hardly resist.

"You already are KIli," I told him, returning the smile. "But sure, why not." He wasted no time in meeting you at your side. "I really love the view," your gaze followed over the trees and valleys and into the overwhelming beauty of Middle Earth. After being on the year-long quest and exhausting final battle, you can finally appreciate the scenery you're surrounded with. It sends waves of peace over you that you only wish to bask in until the end of time.

"So do I," he whispered. But instead of looking at the young rising sun over the horizon, his gaze on you didn't falter. To an onlooker, it would look as if his sight upon you had grown more intense.

You, of course, noticed this. "Kili, I'm serious!" You playfully shoved him to the side. You let laughter spill from your lips, and he joined you. You paced forward slowly, "you know... would you ever like to see it all?" Your voice matched your vision, very distant.

"All..?" He asked you whilst meeting your speed.

"Of middle earth. Would you ever want to see the entirety of our world?" You spoke quietly, thinking of how you would answer that question. In all honesty, you would. But not for a long time. You needed a couple of years before venturing on your next quest, and with the knowledge you now know, you would not want to go alone.

"I see the entirety of my world every day," he spoke softly. He stopped walking and looked at you. You halted and looked at him. He had a gentle smile on his face. Crossing the short distance, you stood before him.

"Must you always be a flirt?"

Looking up into your eyes, "I must," he mused.

"And why is that, Kili?"

"Y/n, -ê khi love, I think you know," he took your hand in his. He held you like you were the rarest treasure, and for how he was looking in your eyes, to him you were.

"Kili..." You were speechless. His eyes were studying every movement your face made, trying to learn as much as possible about what you were thinking. But you saved him the trouble, "amrâlimê." You had so desperately wanted to give that name to him. You smiled so brightly, and he returned it. It was debatable who out shined the other.

"Really?" He couldn't contain the excitement he felt inside. All the talks with his uncles about how properly court had finally paid off. He knew he needed to meet with Thorin and Bilbo as soon as possible, but it could still wait until he completed the courting tradition.

"So does that mean we'd give each other the braids?" You felt like a child for asking that question, but being human, this was new to you. Thorin had conveniently told about the practice yesterday.

"It does! It does, indeed." He reached back and released his shiny brunette hair for the silver clip he had installed and turned his back to you. You don't think you've ever seen him so eager. Upon picking up some strands, you heard your lover sigh deeply. If only you were a dwarf, to fully understand this significance. You've noticed Fili's braids. Maybe he's waiting on his turn since.

When you finish the braid, you let your fingers run through the rest of his locs, as if hypnotized. He turned to look at you, tears in his eyes. His hand took yours and placed a lingering kiss on the back of it. He did not break eye contact during the small gesture, and it sent waves of emotion through you. "Your turn, ghivashel."

His gentle tone woke you from your thoughts. You gasped a little and smiled. You turned your back to him and sucked in a breath, beyond excited to receive a braid of your own.

After finishing his portion, you hear Kili release an uneven breath. You turn around to see him with tears in his eyes. You don't ever think you have been gazed upon in such a way as he is gazing now. Eyes wet with tears, but full of passion and love that could never be shown to anyone other than his One.

You held his face in your hands and looked deep into those eyes. He leaned his forehead up to rest against yours, and you closed the gap. The feeling surging between the two of you could never be measured. Without a word, you both aimed for each others lips, a final collision to seal tradition.

It was languid and slow but full of life. Pulling away, you both looked each other in the eyes. "If only I could tell you how many nights I've laid awake... waiting for this moment, -ê khi love." His eyes looked over your face as if taking it all in for the first time. Not getting enough of every inch it crossed over.

"You will never have to wait again."

[ghuleh-draws]

quick sketch of water!dew reporting for greenhouse duty in his overalls for @crimsonclergy’s birthday!! Please read the adorable ficlet that inspired it here!

most devastatingly precious though, is the two little braids his long hair is twisted into, split down the middle and laying on his chest, tied with mismatched colored elastics. mountain can’t help but pick one up and brush his thumb over a plait, “cute...” dew rolls his eyes but doesn’t hide his smile, “i figured i have the whole get up so, fuck it, why not go all the way?”

[suuuupernovaaa]

'ampi

‘ampi [English] vtr. touch

Anonymous Request: I would like to request and fic about neteyam and his fem!na’vi mate who is super badass and independent in public but in private she is super clingy and beyond head over heels for him.

In public, no one would know how deeply you care for your mate. In private, you can't keep your hands off Neteyam.

Adult Neteyam. 1,067 words.

Since I was young enough to form memories, I had loved Neteyam Sully. I had loved every single thing about him. His smile, his laugh, his stubbornness, the way he teased and always supported his younger siblings, the way his body moved just like his mother's, his gentle and nurturing nature... every single thing.

Ewya smiled down on me, and allowed me to keep Neteyam as my own. Having never been shy, I confessed my love when we were only fifteen years old. Though we were torn apart for a time, I knew that he would return to me, and I was confident that we would be together.

I was right.

Immediately upon Neteyam's return to the forest, I reaffirmed my affections for him, and he claimed me as his mate before Ewya. It was the most joyous day of my life, and every day since then had only been better.

The only person who knew the depths of my feelings was Neteyam, because he was the only one who needed to know. It was not for anyone else's eyes or ears.

But I knew that he knew, I loved him.

--

Neteyam watched as his mate mounted her Ikran and swooped off of the mountain, out of sight in a flash.

"Damn," Lo'ak huffed next to him. "She's so fast."

They had caught up with her just in time to see her disappear into the clouds. Neteyam felt a familiar pride, radiating in his chest with a comfortable warmth.

"She is the fastest in the clan - the fiercest, too."

Lo'ak couldn't argue. No woman seemed to compare to Y/N. Not only was she fast, but she was impossibly strong, accurate with a bow, and the most reliable hunter they had.

Though many men would have sought her hand, Neteyam was lucky enough to claim it.

Neteyam could still remember the shock he had felt when she had said plain and simple, "I love you, and I will wait for you," when he had announced he was to leave five years before.

He was sure she would not wait. Not because he didn't trust her, but because he knew how desirable she was. Not just for her beauty, but for her immense skill and confidence. She was quiet, and strong, and it would have been a feat for any man to claim such a woman.

When he returned, he sought her out immediately, and she stated matter of factly that she was so glad he had returned, and she had, of course, waited for him.

It took a while before Neteyam understood the depths of Y/N's love. Though it was hard for her to show affection in public, when they were truly alone, she was almost an entirely different person.

She had never touched him, that he could remember, in anyone else's presence - but once they were alone, she could not keep herself off of him.

It sent chills up his spine to think of it.

Her hands running over his chest, braiding his hair, while she pressed soft kisses into his neck.

It made it more special, that she would only touch him when they were alone, that she would only say 'I love you' if no one else could hear.

Never had it bothered him that she was so reserved in front of the clan - it only reassured him of how much she loved him, in a way. There was an entire side of her reserved just for him.

Neteyam hopped onto his Ikran, and followed where he knew his mate had gone.

--

I dismounted thirty minutes later, quite far from home, in a cave that only 'Teyam and I knew about. It was small, moss covered, and we had left blankets and a stash of food here for when we wanted to escape.

Eyng flew away, but I knew he would be nearby when I needed him.

I had just laid down on the pile of blankets, when I felt the familiar flap of Neteyam approaching. He dismounted, and ran the few steps over to the bed, and dove on top of me.

I let out a peal of laughter, and threw my arms around him.

"Alone at last," Neteyam murmured, his face in the crook of my neck.

We lay there for a while, holding each other, listening to our heartbeats in unison.

We talked about normal things - hunting, seeing our families, the newly mated pairs back at Home Tree. It didn't matter what Neteyam and I discussed, I was always happy to simply be talking with him.

"Do you know, Neteyam, how much I love you?" I asked after our conversation lulled to a comfortable silence. I was laying with my head on his chest, his arms around me, our legs intwined. The sun was beginning to set, and I was thinking we may stay the night here again.

"Tell me again," he said, with his lips against my hair.

"You are my first thought in the morning, and my last at night. I would do anything for you, Neteyam Sully. I would harm anyone who might try to harm you first, I would do anything to keep you safe... When you were gone, I would sometimes cry at the thought that you may be in danger and I was not there to protect you."

I propped myself up on my elbow to look down at him.

"I would be lost without you, my beloved. Absolutely lost. You are my reason for... everything."

Neteyam gave me a sweet, warm smile. "I do not deserve you," he said, and I scoffed.

"I'm the lucky one. Everyone is jealous, you know?" I teased. "They are jealous that I am with the most handsome man our clan has ever seen."

Neteyam laughed, the sound like chimes to my ears. "Ridiculous. Did you know that Marek and Ur'av both intended to make you their mate, before I returned? And surely more."

I rolled my eyes. "Idiots."

Neteyam was really laughing now. "Idiots," he agreed, and pressed a kiss to my cheek.

Sometimes, it felt as if my heart might burst with so much love.

"Let us stay here tonight, beloved," Neteyam said, "I want to be alone as long as we can."

I placed my head back on his chest. "Forever, if we can," I agreed with a sigh.

It would not be long enough.

[sunsetchicane]

cowboy like me [LN4]

lando x fem!reader

word count: 8.2k

summary: The one where you work on a ranch and it’s everything you know. There’s nothing that can come between you and your love for your home. Not even a handsome stranger who seems to pull the best out of you.

warnings: slight angst, some fluff, horses!, brief sexual innuendo, a singular swear word, and one [sad] kiss.

author’s note: hey! hi! hello! this is my first fic on here (omgggg 🤭) so please, please, please let me know your thoughts/comments/questions! might write a second part to this…thoughts??[xoxo elle]

~~~

Buxton Ranch has been in the Buxton family before Montana even became an official Union state in 1889. Land wasn’t simply a commodity or property back then; it was life or death. William T. Buxton and his wife, Mary Anne, put their boots down on this land along with their four children and they’ve never left. They fought their way over the mountains, survived the unbearable, and have reaped the benefits of their resilience for over a century and a half.

Willamina T. Buxton I, my boss, is the great-something granddaughter of William T. Buxton I. Her father, William T. Buxton VII handed over the ranch to her on her 30th birthday a few years back. The controversy caused ripples through the entire community because even though Willamina is Mr. Buxton’s first born, the ranch has always been handed down to the eldest son. Willa is the first woman to ever have ownership of the ranch.

My family hasn’t been in Montana nearly as long as the Buxtons. My mom and I moved out here in the spring the year I was born. My father skipped out before my mom could even hold herself upright in her hospital bed after laboring with me. She tells me that we came here to Montana for a fresh start, and what better place to go than where the sky is bigger and the air is pure. The mountains became our safe haven, our buffer from the rest of the world and, more importantly, our history. It’s easy to forget up here, to allow your mind to rest. I’ve never been at a loss for why the Buxtons came and never left. Sometimes, in the dark of my room, I pretend that I really am a Buxton, that I truly belong.

However, when the sun breaks across the mountain peaks and the world comes alive once again, I’m forced to realize that I don’t belong to the Buxton dynasty. I simply work for them.

My alarm blares to my right, causing me to shoot upright. With fumbling fingers, I seek for the power button of my alarm clock. When I finally find it and shut off the hellish noise, I fling my legs over the side of my bed. With the heels of my hands, I rub the sleep from my eyes. The world around me is painted in a deep blue, still fast asleep and undisturbed by my alarm. I envy it as I rise from my bed and get ready for the day.

Silently, I pull on my bootcut Wranglers and a light green long sleeved button down. My belt and beat up old boots complete the ensemble for the moment being. My next stop is the bathroom where I brush my teeth and comb my hair. Tying my hair off into a low braid so it’ll sit right under my hat takes only a couple minutes. I’ve been wearing my hair the same way to work every day for the past seven years.

Once I’m done in the bathroom, I make my way to the kitchen where a pot of coffee is automatically brewing on schedule. I toss a few eggs into a pan as well as two pieces of bread into the toaster. The breakfast of champions and me every single day. After crushing a cup of coffee and my plain breakfast, it’s time to head out. Instead of living on-site with the rest of the ranch hands, I still live with my mom. I’ve been wanting to move out to the ranch for over a year now since I finished college, but the possibility of breaking my mom’s heart stops me from even mentioning it to her.

Glancing at the clock, I know I have plenty of time to spare, but I start to pack up and head out the door anyway. I enjoy being early to the ranch. It’s peaceful and serene before it wakes and rises. Grabbing my work jacket because the winter’s just turning over to spring, my chaps, and my lunch sack, I head out the door. My mom and I share an old, sunburnt orange Chevy truck that just barely runs. I toss my things into the bed of the pickup before sliding into the worn out driver’s seat. As I slide the key into the ignition, I send up a quick prayer that she turns over. When I press the key forward, the engine roars to life. Prayers have been answered this morning and I hope it’s a good omen for the rest of the day.

The drive to Buxton Ranch is short and sweet, all dirt roads and drifting grassy fields. The radio sounds quietly and the engine hums loudly, but everything else is completely still. A distant light orange is just starting to brush the very edges of the horizon in the east. Nature is starting to reach out and stretch its sleepy limbs.

As I pull up to the place where I always park near a stretch of fence, I see a figure dressed in shadows leaning over the wood a few yards away. Once I’ve tossed the pickup into park and yanked out the keys, I jump down from my seat so I can walk over to her. She’s always out here before everyone. Sometimes I see her, most times I don’t. When I do, it feels like fate, like there’s something about today that’s meant to happen this way. Or maybe it’s just Willamina Buxton.

“Good morning, y/n,” she rasps without glancing over at me. Crossing my arms, I lean over the log fence and take in the view. I don’t think there’s a better view in all of Montana than that from Buxton Ranch.

“Good morning, Willa,” I answer quietly. Her brother, Wyatt, was my best friend growing up. She’s only 12 years older than the two of us, but somehow she seems infinitely older and wiser. She’s been a role model for me. We grew closer after Wyatt left for college a few years back. Of course he came back in the summers to visit, but he never stayed long. He wasn’t born for this life. Instead of horses, he dealt with horse power. He always wanted to become an engineer for Formula One. When the opportunity came to go overseas to study in England and intern at McLaren, he hadn’t even thought twice. One day he was here, and the next he was gone.

I struggled with feeling abandoned for a while, but I came to terms with it quickly. I realized that dreams were meant to be chased and he was incredibly fortunate to get this opportunity. I was also chasing my dream, I just had to go down the street instead of across an ocean. We keep in touch, calling frequently and texting nearly every day, but it’s not the same. I miss him.

“Heard from Wyatt recently?” Willa says quietly then takes a sip from her mug of iron black coffee.

“Not in a couple of days. Seems busy,” I mumble. Wyatt’s leaving is a bit of a sore spot for Willa. She wanted him to stay on the ranch and in the family business. Her asking about him is a bit of an anomaly.

She hums, then pauses, then sighs. “Lots to do today. We better get going.”

And just like that the work day starts.

I tend to the horses right away, leading them out into the corral so I can wash out their stalls from over the weekend. I give each of them fresh hay and fill up large troughs of water for the more temperamental ones. Then I lead them one at a time back into their stalls and give them a thorough once over to check how they’re doing.

The last one I have to put away is the youngest of the group. He came to us only last year, unbroke and wild as the river. He’s a black Morgan stallion, sleek and athletic. He’s larger than your typical Morgan, with rippling muscle, and a proud face. He’s beautiful. We call him Jupe.

“Jupe,” I coo kindly to the untamed stallion. “Come on, Jupe.”

He casts a look over his back at me telling me everything I need to know. Sighing, I toss myself over the fence and into the corral. With my palms raised up and in front of me, I show him the leather lead in my hand as I walk over to him slowly.

“Come on, Jupe, we gotta go back inside. I cleaned up real nice for you, boy. Fresh hay, new water, you’re living the five star life, buddy,” I say while creeping up on him. He doesn’t move, but simply tracks my movements with his black eyes. Nerves claw at my stomach as I approach him. Reaching out slowly, I praise him and repeat his name over and over. Finally, I slide the clip of the lead around a loop in his bridle. But there’s no relief yet. I still have to get him into the stables without incident.

“Good boy, Jupe,” I say, reaching out gently to stroke his nose. He pushes at my hand playfully. A surge of pride washes over me. Maybe the two of us are finally making progress. Jupe lets me lead him out of the corral and back to his stall with ease. Today really is my day.

“Thank you,” I whisper to the stallion as I slide the lock shut on his door. Jupe’s head hangs over the short door, his head coming down to level with mine. Patting him gently, I pull a couple sugar cubes from my pack. I hold them up to him on my flat palm and he slurps them up gratefully. A smile that I can do nothing to stop breaks across my face. I’m gonna saddle him up one day. And maybe that day is sooner than I’d anticipated.

“Only you would give that stubborn Morgan a treat,” I hear a familiar voice say. I whip around in disbelief as the tone and inflexion registers in my mind.

“Then again, maybe the two of you have bonded over your mutual stubbornness.” Wyatt hardly gets the words out before I’m taking his arm in mine and wrapping him up in a hug with the other. We laugh as we sway side to side. My hat careens to the side of my head as I hug him and I know I must be getting him all sweaty and dirty, but I can’t find it in myself to care about vanity at the moment. Wyatt’s back.

“Surprise!” He says when I finally let go of him. He’s wearing a bright smile as I pull back. Wyatt reaches up and straightens out my hat for me.

“I can’t believe you didn’t tell me you were coming!” I say while smacking the back of my hand against his shoulder. “I would’ve gotten off work and…”

“No, you wouldn’t have,” he laughs as I slide past him to finish up sweeping this side of the stables.

“You’re right,” I laugh along with him while I sweep. He knows that I love my job too much to step away from it. I hate missing a day and he knows that.

Wyatt takes a seat on a stack of unused hay bales that I’ll have to load back up. He chats with me about school and England and McLaren. I don’t know much about Formula One, just what I picked up on from Wyatt constantly chatting my ear off about it. Most of the stuff that Wyatt has told me, however, goes way over my head. What I do know is that this boy is an engineering genius and McLaren is lucky to have him now as a full-time employee. They offered him a job straight out of university. He’ll be living full time in the UK. My stomach twists at the thought.

“So, what do you have going on for the rest of the day?” Wyatt asks after I’ve finished sweeping. I place my hands on top of the broom and lean my chin over my fingers.

“Riley and I were going to take down that rickety south fence and…” I start to say while mentally checking my to-do list.

“Sandy’s helping Riley with that,” Wyatt says matter-of-factly. I cast him a questioning look to which he simply blinks at.

“Alright. Then I have to go to the cattle and check on all of the pregnant…”

“Louise has that covered,” Wyatt informs me while picking at his nails. What is he getting at?

“Why…well, then I have to…” I begin, trying to move away from things that he could possibly know of.

“Go riding with me and my friends!” Wyatt exclaims while hopping off the hay bales and clapping his hands together. “Wonderful idea.”

My jaw drops. There’s no way that he’s trying to make me skip the rest of the day to go riding. Not after we just had a conversation over the fact that I would never do that. That I could never do that. I have an obligation to be here, to get things done.

“Wy, you know I’d love to, but I’ve got work to do,” I say firmly while walking over to hang up my broom. Jupe huffs and brays at Wyatt as he walks briskly over to me.

“No you don’t. I made sure of it,” Wyatt says while grabbing my hands so I have no choice but to stand in front of him. “Willa’s told me to inform you that if you’re found working this afternoon, there’ll be severe consequences.”

At that, I know I have to oblige with Wyatt’s request. If Willa gave the all clear, there’s no reason for me to try and argue. One thing about the Buxtons is they’re nearly as strong-willed as the horses they hold. Not to mention it would be incredibly rude of me to not accept Willa’s generosity. This doesn’t stop me from letting Wyatt know exactly how I feel about him pulling me away from my work. I do so in colorful language the entire walk over to the house.

“You don’t even want to go riding with me, you just want me to be your guide,” I feign an accusation as we approach a small crowd of people on the large front deck of the Buxtons glorious ranch home. I see a few ranch hands and two other men that I don’t know, who must be Wyatt’s friends.

“You are the best guide out here.” His backhanded compliment earns him an eye roll. As we approach the house, he tells me to wait for a second while he calls over his friends. Their heads turn quickly to the two of us when Wyatt calls to them. They say hasty goodbyes to the staff they were chatting with before walking over to Wyatt and I. One is tall and pale, with pale eyes, and pale hair. His cheeks are flushed a slight pink from the chill that still hangs in the spring air. He looks lively and excited, his eyes bouncing around from one thing to another at lightning speed.

The other man is shorter with cropped, dark, curly hair. His hazel eyes are sharp and brilliant against his tanned skin. As he draws nearer, I can tell that he’s very physically fit. He’s wearing a tight long sleeve shirt that hugs his arms, brand new boot cut jeans, and a shiny pair of boots that have obviously never been worn. His eyes, unlike his friend, don’t wander while he walks over to us; they stay trained on me. A small smile falls across his pretty pink lips as he finds me watching him swagger his way over. He’s attractive.

“Never seen a British boy in cowboy boots before,” I say when they stop in front of us, glancing down at the brunette's footwear. When my eyes flick up to his, he still hasn’t stopped looking at me. Clearing my throat, I extend a hand to the blonde.

“Hi, y/n,” I introduce myself while shaking his hand.

“Mitchel,” he says, his accent is sharp and acutely German, which takes me by surprise. I nod, casting him a warm smile. I watch as Mitchel’s eyes flick to Wyatt over my shoulder. Following suit, I catch Wy smiling like a fool and a slight blush that I don’t think has anything to do with the weather coating his cheeks. When he sees me looking at him, he quickly crosses his arms and looks away. My smile widens. Mitchel drops my hand and then stuffs his back into his pockets.

“Y/n,” I say to Wyatt’s other friend who has a bit of a staring problem. He takes my hand in his slowly.

“Lando Norris,” He says crisply, his accent confirming my previous assessment. “Nice to finally meet you, y/n.”

His name catches in my mind, as if I’ve heard it before but I can’t place it. Wyatt must have mentioned him at some point, but for the life of me I can’t remember what about. A moment passes and our hands stay held together in the space between us as I try to place him. My eyes scan over his face and catalog his freckles and scars and the way his eyes sparkle when he smiles. When it dawns on me that I’m now the one with a staring problem, I swiftly pull my hand from his. Briefly, his jaw clenches.

“Finally, huh?” I take his previous statement and run with it. Turning my back to Lando, I glance over at Wyatt. “Just what have you been saying about me?”

“All good things, all good things,” Wy assures me while coming up to clasp me on the shoulder. He leans into me with a big smile that makes my stomach churn at the thought of what he’s actually told his friends. What does Lando think of me? Why does it matter what Lando thinks of me?

“Well,” I say quickly, trying to shake the thought of Lando from my head. “I suppose we should get going if we want to be back by sundown.”

The three boys nod their heads in agreement. The four of us walk over to the stables. Wyatt and Mitchel walk slowly behind me as they chit chat and laugh. Casting a glance over my shoulder at them, I watch as their shoulders bump together and their fingers brush intentionally. I bite my lip to keep myself from smiling. Wyatt’s alway had a hard time with romance and partnership just because of where we grew up and the hate he received for simply being himself. Seeing him this way, happy and smitten, makes me feel proud. It affirms that his leaving was necessary in so many ways.

“How long have you been working here?” Lando’s voice pulls me from my thoughts. My attention slides over to him. He’s come up to my left, his hands folded behind his back. His eyes are wide and curious as he looks at me. I can’t help but feel like I’m being analyzed.

“Seven years. But I’ve been on the ranch all my life. I took riding lessons from Willa and then became fast friends with Wyatt,” I tell him while pulling my eyes from his. Returning his gaze seems difficult, so I keep my eyes trained on the stable. He hums in acknowledgement of my response. I can feel his eyes on me still.

“Do you work at McLaren with Wyatt?” I ask my new acquaintance. He chuckles to himself a little, his pretty eyes squinting from his large smile.

“Yeah, you could say that,” he says, making me feel like I’m missing something. I scoff at his vague response, but don’t press the issue. If he wanted to explain himself, he would. His aura is interesting. He seems so sure of himself, completely at ease with who he is. It’s captivating.

We make it to the entrance of the stable and I instruct Lando and Mitchel to take a seat while Wyatt and I saddle up the horses. It takes us a while to get everyone ready for the trail ride, but with every passing minute, the more excited I get. Wyatt and I used to go out on the trails all the time. During the summer as teenagers, we would stuff our packs full of camping supplies and go for days at a time. Those memories are my most cherished possessions, things that I will never forget. Now whenever I take others up there, I feel as though I’m bearing a part of my soul to them.

Once we’re done getting everything ready, Wyatt leads his and Mitchel’s horses, Rudy and Molly, outside with Mitchel in tow. This leaves me alone with Lando. My stomach twists nervously when I feel his presence looming to my right.

“Ever ridden before?” I ask while petting Luna, a beautiful sorrel tovero paint. She’s older, but strong and steady, a good horse for a beginner.

“Yeah, loads,” Lando says while joining me in stroking Luna. I cast him a critical glance. If he sees it, he ignores me. Rolling my eyes, I really can’t tell if he’s being serious or not. It’s important to know what you’re doing while working with large animals. I make the mental note to keep him in my line of sight at all times while riding.

“Oh, good. Then you’ll be good to lead Ms. Luna out? She’s yours for the day,” I tell him while handing over the reins. I watch his adam's apple bob and his eyebrows lift slightly before nodding and accepting the reins from my hand. When his fingers brush over mine, goosebumps run across my arm. Quickly, I pull my hand away and turn towards Beau, my stallion for today. Fiddling aimlessly with his bridle, I wait until the steps of Luna and Lando have disappeared before releasing a breath. Leaning my forehead against Beau’s neck, I sigh at my stupid behavior. Am I really so touch starved that I get goosebumps at my finger brushing against his? That’s sad.

I take Beau’s reins in my hand and start leading him out to the waiting pack of boys. Just as I’m about to exit the stables, I look over at Jupe. He’s looking at me like he knows exactly what’s going on in my mind.

“Don’t give me attitude,” I tell him.

He just blinks at me.

Beau and I join everyone. Wyatt’s running Mitchel through the basics while Lando watches on. He’s pretending to not be listening by petting Luna and quietly talking to her, but I still catch the way he glances over when Wy demonstrates something. I walk around and do a quick double check on everyone’s gear before returning to Beau’s side. With the ease of muscle memory that I don’t think I’ll ever lose, I toss myself up and onto the saddle. Wyatt assists Mitchel into his saddle before climbing into his own. Lando glances over at me before sliding his foot into the stirrup and attempting to pull himself up. He looks out of his depth and slightly awkward as he hauls himself onto the saddle seat. Biting back a laugh, I click my tongue and squeeze my legs a little to get Beau to move for me. The two of us saunter up next to Lando. His easy continence is long gone, replaced by nerves and uncertainty. His hands shake as he grabs onto the reins incorrectly.

“Here, like this,” I correct while reaching out to his hands. My fingers pry his anxious fists open and fix where he’s holding the leather cord. I’m surprised to find calluses littering his palms, a mirror of my own. I maneuver his palm to rest in the right way so he doesn’t agitate Luna. I can feel Lando watching me as I touch and hold his hands. I’ve done this a hundred times when teaching lessons, but this is the first time that I feel an uncomfortable blush creeping onto my cheeks. Lando’s presence has me off axis, spinning out of my routine. I’ve known him for maybe an hour and he’s already getting under my skin.

“Just trust Luna, she knows the way,” I say quietly as I pull away from him. He bites at his lip but nods along with my words. Smiling as warmly as I can, I leave his side to ride up to Wyatt. However, I can’t help but glance back over my shoulder at him. He’s not looking at me, thankfully. Instead, his eyes are trained on his hands as he flexes them on the reins the way I showed him. His focus is endearing, almost cute.

But when his eyes rise to find mine, I snap my head forward in hopes that he didn’t catch me staring at him. The last thing I need is to develop some sort of childish crush on a stranger that I’ll never see again after a few days. I just have to keep my head down and my thoughts off of him.

“Time’s wasting!” Wyatt calls to me, letting me know that everyone is ready to go. Nodding, I take the lead while Wyatt falls to the back. We keep Mitchel and Lando between us so they don’t get caught straying off the path.

Going out for a ride is one of my favorite things. I love going into the mountains, walking along the thin paths, and enjoying the earth. As we go, I hear Mitchel and Wyatt quietly chatting at the back of the pack. However, once we get to the treeline, their voices fall away from my earshot. My senses are overcome by our surroundings. The budding trees are gorgeous as they filter the sunlight into sultry beams that fall onto the new grass along the sides of the gravel path.

“Beautiful,” I hear Lando speak for the first time since we left. I’ve been distracted thankfully, leaving me free from his effect on me. Now, though, I find myself turning to the side to look at him as he comes up next to me. I’m surprised to find him staring at me instead of the lively forest that hems us in. A thought that he might be making a comment about me instead of the scenery flashes through my mind. Quickly, I shove the absurd thought away and chalk it up to wishful thinking.

“It is,” I agree, giving him a small smile. He chuckles a little before turning to look around him. Suddenly, I’m acutely aware of him. Somehow he adds to the already perfect scene around me. His hair is being ruffled by the slight, cool breeze, which also lends his skin a gorgeous pink flush. Bright hazel eyes track the swishing branches and fluttering wildlife. His muscles are on display as he engages them to ride Luna. He looks less stiff than he did earlier, as if he’s finding himself at ease here. The idea makes me giddy. I find myself agreeing with Lando’s previous assessment. Beautiful.

“See something you like, cowgirl?” Lando laughs when he catches me staring at him yet again. My eyes go wide and my mouth parts as I scramble for a proper response, a defense, anything. There’s just something about him that makes it nearly impossible to look away. I think I’d like to be able to see him a lot more.

“Cowgirl?” Is all I can come up with. It’s not an inaccurate title, but the way he said it made it sound different. It was tacked onto his question almost like an endearment, or a tease. I laugh a little at his choice of words and the way it sounds in his accent.

“I see a lot of things I like, cowboy. You’ll have to be more specific,” I challenge. This successfully pulls a proper laugh from him. It’s the type of laugh that sends birds flying frantically from their perches and the creatures hidden in the grass scurrying away. It’s impossible to not laugh along with him. My heart flutters and I have to hold on tighter to my reins so I don’t fall off the saddle.

“I may be a lot of things, but I am no cowboy,” he corrects. I nod while continuing to laugh.

“I could have told you that,” I confirm while adjusting my hat.

“Oh really?” Lando says, urging me to explain myself. He tilts his head to the side while his mouth pulls into a closed lipped smile.

“If the brand new jeans and boots didn’t give you away, then you’re riding definitely does. You ride stiff as a board,” I inform him while glancing down at his boots and jeans. His denim clad thighs are tight around Luna’s middle, tense muscles visible through the fabric.

“Alright, teach me then,” he says, his free hand coming to rest on his hip. “Cowgirl.”

I roll my eyes at his words once again, but am resolved to help him nonetheless. There’s nothing like going out and being able to ride properly. I want to ask him why he lied to me about his experience with riding, but I don’t want to bruise his ego any further. Trying something new is challenging enough, and if he’s willing to learn, then I don’t want to jeopardize that.

“Keep sitting up straight, but relax your body. Your hips should shift back and forth in the seat a little. Don’t fight what feels natural. Just watch me,” I tell him. His eyes slide slowly from my face down to my hips. I watch as his eyes track my hips back and forth just slightly with Beau’s steps. Lando’s breathing goes uneven and his bottom lip disappears between his teeth. He’s staring at me like there’s nothing else he’d ever want to look at. It makes my heart race and nerves flutter in my stomach. I hadn’t really thought about the more sensual implications of having him watch my hips, but it seems rather obvious now. However, I don’t really mind the way he’s looking at me, or the way his focus is completely attuned to me. Selfishly, I really wish he wouldn’t look at anything else ever again. But that can’t happen.

“Eyes up, cowboy,” I tell him after a few more seconds of letting him watch. “Go ahead.”

Clearing his throat, he shifts a little in the saddle before settling in to do what I asked. I don’t miss the way he avoids looking me in the eye, as if he’s embarrassed. Have I flustered him? The thought makes me just a tiny bit proud. He doesn’t seem like the type to be flustered easily. He sits up straight and attempts to relax his body. His lower half starts to shift the right way, looking more natural and less jerky than before. Indulging myself, I watch for a few more seconds. I bite the inside of my cheek as he rocks back and forth in the saddle. My mind goes wandering to places that I shouldn’t be thinking about with a man I’ve only known for a day. Less than a day. And yet, I can’t stop myself.

“Maybe we’ll make a real cowboy out of you yet, Lando Norris,” I tell him after I’ve noticed improvements. His focus fractures and he looks over to me.

“I think I’d like that,” He shoots back, a sly smile accompanying his words. The look twists my stomach into nervous knots. There’s something about him, something intangible, that draws you in. Maybe it’s charm or charisma, or maybe it’s just the way he was made. Whatever the circumstances or reasons are, it’s not fair. I feel as though I have hardly a fighting chance to ward off any sort of desire that’s bubbling to the surface. I want to keep getting to know him; I want to teach him anything he asks; I want to never let go of the way he makes me feel.

The walk back to the ranch grounds is much faster than I would have liked. Lando chats with me the entire way back about this and that. He’s smart and funny and my chances of not having a crush on him grow slimmer with every passing minute I spend with him. When we get back to the stables, I find myself taking much longer than I normally would to put everything away. Mitchel and Wyatt decided that a fire would be the best way to end the night, so they ran out to get it started while Lando and I finished up with the horses. He tried his best to help, but kept getting distracted by visiting all of the stalls.

“Who’s this?” Lando says as I finish putting away the last saddle. I say a quick goodbye to Beau before heading down to the last stall near the open barn doors. Lando is standing in front of Jupe’s stall, his arms crossed over his chest. I stop next to him, leaving an appropriate amount of space between us, even though I want to come up right next to him and press my shoulder to his.

“This is Jupe. He’s our newest. Bit ornery, but a good boy,” I say while reaching my hand out to pat Jupe’s head. He brays at my touch, but doesn’t pull away. I give him a quick kiss on the nose and coddle him a little. Positive reinforcement does wonders.

“My turn,” Lando says from behind me. Astounded, I turn my face toward him. He’s insinuating that he wants me to kiss him. My brain short circuits at the thought. He’s just standing there with his arms still crossed over his chest and a stupid smile playing across his handsome face. I scoff at his joke, trying not to let on how much it affected me.

“Careful what you wish for, you might end up with a stall of your own,” I jab back. However, keeping him here doesn’t seem like the worst idea in the world.

“Being praised, kissed, and ridden by you? Sounds like these guys are living the dream,” Lando says. My jaw hangs loose as his words hit me like a freight train. Shock courses through me, leaving me beyond speechless. Is he being serious? Who says things like that? I blink at him, unsure of how to continue. I can’t lie and say that the images that popped into my head when he spoke were entirely unpleasant. If he’s being serious, there’s a lot to consider here. I could deny my feelings and spare myself the heartache. Or the alternative, which is letting my emotions get the better of me. This would mean that in a few days after spending time together, I would have to deal with heartbreak and come to terms with the fact that I’ll maybe never see him again. Or maybe I could, if there’s something really here. Maybe I have to give into hope for once. There’s never really been anyone who I’ve put ahead of my goals or dreams. I’ve never been tempted to stray from my path by anyone. Sure, I’ve gone out with guys, had a boyfriend for a while. But if something didn’t line up, I made cuts so my life would fit together how I needed it to. Suddenly now, as I stand here in this stable with a man I met only hours ago, I’m finding myself bending my rules for the first time. I don’t think I’ve ever been more scared in my whole life.

“Alright, cowboy,” I say while taking a tentative step toward him, I’m ready to play this little game of his. His hands have fallen to his side, so I gently slide my fingers into his. Shining eyes lock onto mine. His tan skin is set aglow by the dying sunrise, highlighting the ridges and curves of his face. I want to memorize every freckle, every line, every corner of him. I’m lost in the way his hand feels around mine and in the way he’s looking at me, and I don’t ever want to find my way out. One of his fingers comes to the front of my hat and pushes the brim up. He draws closer now, his face mere inches from mine. His jaw flexes and his large neck muscles twitch with tension as he dips his head down just enough for his lips to hover over mine.

“We have a fire to get to,” I finish my earlier thought in a whisper. With hooded eyes, I look into his wide ones. Smiling smally, I step away from him. Adjusting my hat back to its original place, I begin walking out the door. Lando is hauled after me with my hand still grasped in his. Giddiness takes me over as I walk hand in hand with him towards the fire pit near the house. My small smile breaks into a much larger one as I pick up my pace, breaking into a jog. Lando’s hand clasps around mine tighter as he adjusts to the new pace. A laugh bubbles from my chest as I bring my free hand to hold onto my hat as I run harder. A sense of carefreeness has corrupted my usual serious disposition. Rarely do I feel as free as I do now. Lando’s lightness has infected me, and I can’t help but fall in love with how it’s buoyed my spirits. It feels like the first hit of a drug; it’s the type of high I’ll be chasing for the rest of my life.

As we approach the house, I can hear Wyatt’s laugh ring out from around the corner to the back. Just as we’re about to turn that last corner, Lando’s arms reach around my waist, stopping me from moving another inch. His chest hits my back with no small amount of force, tossing my hat from my head. I’m bent over in his arms as both of our laughs pull the last threads of air from our tired lungs. He hauls us both upright and my head falls back against his shoulder. I suck in a deep breath of the cool, dusk air. It cools me from the inside out. A feeling stirs deep in my stomach as I stare up into the sky while basking in the feeling of Lando’s arms wrapped around me.

Belonging.

It’s something I’ve been chasing my whole life; a sense of knowing where I belong and who I am. And now I feel as though I’ve finally found it: a home; a place to belong; a knowledge of exactly who I am.

Once we’ve regulated our breathing, I break out of his arms. Leaving them isn’t what I want, and as I pull away, I immediately feel much colder. However, we have to accompany Wyatt and Mitchel before they grow suspicious. Carefully, I pick up my hat, but don’t place it back on my head.

“Are you coming?” I ask quickly, tossing a glance to Lando over my shoulder. He shakes his head with a smile, but follows me around the corner without a word. Wyatt’s eyes find us over the roaring fire he’s built. Mitchel is seated right next to him on a log, a thick blanket spread over their laps. Between the warmth of the fire, the blanket, and the present company, I know that the nighttime chill won’t be able to touch me. As I approach Wyatt, he reaches to the side to pick up another blanket with a couple beers and s’mores supplies stacked on top. I accept it with a quick thank you before plopping down on the log next to them. Lando saunters after me, slowly taking a seat to my right.

“Hold this?” I ask while placing the blanket onto his lap. Gently, I set my hat down behind me, then reach over my shoulder to grab the end of my braid. I pull the elastic from the end and go about undoing the braid.

“So, Lando, how was the ride for you?” Wy asks as he brings his beer to his lips. My eyes are on the fire as he speaks, my mind slipping out of focus for a brief moment while I concentrate on my hair. But I’m aware of the fact that Lando doesn’t answer. When I turn to look at him, I find his eyes already on me, following my fingers as they finish pulling out my braid. I run my fingers through my roots to shake out the nasty hat hair that I undoubtedly have.

“Lando?” Wyatt laughs.

“What?” Lando says as he snaps out of his dazed state. His eyes go wide as they shift over to Wyatt who’s chuckling to himself. A goofy smile breaks across Lando’s face as Wyatt restates his question.

“I think I might have to switch professions,” Lando says, his eyes flicking down to me. The fire is lighting his skin with a warm glow. The flames flash lazily in his glossy eyes.

“I think it would be best for you to stick with McLaren,” I joke while cracking both of our cold beers. With a small smile, I hand over one of the bottles to a slightly offended Lando. Laughing to myself, I nudge his shoulder and click the neck of my beer to his. The liquid is cold and fresh against my lips, sending the perfect chill cascading down into my neck and chest.

“Yeah, mate, I think it’s best if you stay in the cockpit rather than the saddle,” Mitchel adds. “Play to your strengths and all that.”

The cockpit? As in the cockpit of a Formula One car? The realization hits me with all the grace of a drunk elephant. Lando Norris; I recognized his name earlier because Wyatt works as an engineer for a driver named Lando Norris. A Formula One driver named Lando Norris. With wide eyes, I stare forward into the fire. Every possibility that I’ve just dreamt up has suddenly become nothing but a fantasy. My body tenses as it physically revolts against my idiocy and naivety. Reality settles into my bones and I have to chide myself for being so stupid to ignore it for as long as I have. Not only did I ignore it, but I created a work of fiction where maybe we could end up together.

“Shit,” I hear Lando breathe next to me. His face is one I don’t recognize, one of seriousness. For the few hours that I’ve known him, which feel more like years, I haven’t seen him lose that little spark that makes him so him. Now it’s nowhere to be seen. He didn’t want me to know that he was a professional driver, one of the most elite in the whole world. It stings because I don’t understand exactly what his intentions were and it allowed me the space to concoct some seriously messed up notions. There’s no way that anything could happen between us now. It’s hard enough to maintain a friendship of years over an ocean with an engineer; imagine trying to hold together a relationship with a driver across continents and seas that constantly change. However, I can’t justify being angry with him. It is his life to be in the public eye constantly. If he came out here to not be recognized for a while and to be treated like just a normal guy, then who am I to deny him that. I just wish he would have given me the opportunity to do that with knowing who he really is. Now I’m stuck with feelings that I know won’t go away in a hurry and thorough embarrassment.

The rest of the night passes monotonously. Wyatt and Mitchel are wrapped up into their own little world, so they hardly notice the ever eroding gap that suddenly formed between Lando and I. We chat a little, but it’s not the same anymore. Roasting marshmallows has suddenly become my new favorite thing because it gives me an excuse to not look at him. I know that if I do, I’ll start to adore his curly hair and the scar over the bridge of his nose and the way that he looks right into your soul with his pretty eyes. I know that if I dare to look at him, I’ll start to believe in fiction once again. That’s not something I can allow; I won’t be the person who falls in love with the idea of something they can never have.

I won’t be the person that falls for someone they can never have.

Wyatt and Mitchel bid us goodnight before walking hand in hand into the house. Envy flares in my chest, jealousy turning my heart an ugly shade of green. The crackling of the dying fire and the rustling of wind through the grass and trees are the only things that greet my ears. Usually, I would be incredibly fond of this quietness. But now, it simply feels like a life sentence of silence. And once again, as the world turns to night, I feel the loneliness creep in at the edges. The night chill has crept into my fingers and toes, slowly creeping inward.

“I’m sorry,” Lando’s voice is gravelly from lack of use. “I should have…”

“You should have,” I agree. My voice isn’t harsh or condescending, it’s soft, softer than I’ve ever heard it. “I understand, though. I just wish I had known before…”

My voice trails off and gets blown away with the smoke that floats lazily into the atmosphere. Clouds have collected across the sky, cutting the stars from our view. With a melancholy heart, I can’t help but admit how fitting that is. I suppose we really weren’t written in the stars. We are the opposite of destined.

Lando’s hand wraps around my cold fingers, but instead of warming me, it burns. The kiss he leaves on my knuckles feels as though my hand was dipped into the embers of a fire. Blinking back the prick in my eyes from impending tears, I watch his face fall into a frown. I hate the way his eyebrows are creased in the middle and the concern that’s painfully evident in his stubborn eyes. It’s not the look I wanted from him tonight. It’s not the face that’s become my brand new favorite. It’s not Lando.

“How long are you staying for?” I find myself asking. I have to know how long I’ll have to endure his presence. But what’s worse: having him here and knowing I can’t have him, or watching him leave and knowing that I’ll never have him?

“We leave on Monday,” he says. Just for the weekend then. I’ll only have to see him on Monday and then I’ll be free of him. I know he’ll torment me in my sleep, when I see someone walking down the street who looks a little like him, when I look at Luna. I’ll never truly escape him.

“Alright,” I mumble. A beat passes without any more conversation. Then Lando’s hand is slipping under my hair and around the side of my neck. My head turns toward him, his touch unprompted and sending a wave of goosebumps across my skin.

“I’m sorry, but I have to know. Just once and then we can put it away forever. Alright?” He’s closing that gap between us, both physically and emotionally. His face slows as it hovers in front of mine. My breathing has ceased and fear has seized my heart. Is this the right thing to do? Or will it make it worse?

“Alright,” I find myself agreeing without thinking. Maybe I have to know, too, if this is everything I think it is; if this really is everything that I’m losing.

His kiss is light at first, lips just barely brushing mine. It’s soft and gentle as he uses his hand to bring my face closer to his. When his lips are fully on mine, my mind bursts into stars and streams of color. He kisses me with quiet passion, slow and strong. That belonging that I felt when he had his arms around me flares back to life in my chest. His fingers flex under my jaw, holding onto me tighter like he’s scared I’ll slip out of his grip. Which I am. When we break away from our first and last kiss, I feel as we filter through each other’s fingertips. We’re lost now, never to be found.

A crack in my chest sends me to my feet. Tears suddenly blur my vision.

“Goodbye, Lando,” I find myself saying, my words taking every bit of strength I have left. As I turn away from him for the last time, I find myself wishing I'd have said no to his kiss. As I walk away from him for the last time, I know now that I’m losing the one real thing I’ve ever known.

The truth is he isn’t a cowboy like me.

[bouncybongfairy]

Spring Has Sprung

Neteyam Sully x Avatar!Reader

Summary: Neteyam invites you to visit a naturally occurring water spring that he spotted while on patrol. Things of course get heated.

Word Count: 2.0k

TW: Smut.

<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3

You were watching Neteyam cutting wood and stacking them into neat piles. Sitting on a tree nearby, feeling a bit like you were invading his privacy. The sun was shining down onto him through the thick branches of the trees. He was breathing hard and seemed to be aggressively doing his work. Like he was taking his anger out on the wood. He threw his ax down next to his last pile, resting his hands on his hips and letting his head tilt back. Once he was looking up, he saw you sitting on the tree above him. Smirking, he starts to climb up to accompany you. 

“You could have come down and said hi,” he said, still breathing hard. 

“Didn’t want to interrupt your focus, seemed like you were working really hard,” you said, picking a small twig out of one of his braids. 

“Do you have any plans tonight?” he asks. 

He made you so nervous, he wasn’t the type of person who said things half heartedly. Always making eye contact and speaking very confidently. Such a strong presence that at times you felt the need to avert your gaze. The two of you grew up together and are still really close. That being said, you noticed in the past couple months things were shifting. Your feelings were starting to develop romantically, which scared you. In fear that the bond you’d made as children would be soured by hormones or impulse. You couldn’t speak for him but there were times when you thought he felt the same way. Being more touchy or having conversations that weren’t exactly platonic. He set his hand on your knee, bringing you back to reality.

“No, why?” you asked. 

“I found a really deep pool of water when I was on patrol and wanted to show you, if you’re open to that,” he suggested, so you agreed and then parted ways. 

For the rest of the day all you could think about was nightfall. Excited to see what this adventure would bring. Helping your mom start the fire and make dinner felt like it took a eon. You are the oldest of 4 younger siblings so during supper you tried helping as much as you could. That was a big reason you and Neteyam got along so well. The stress of being semi responsible for all your kins mistakes made it easy to find common ground. You were so nervous that you didn’t have much of an appetite. After helping clean up and excusing yourself to go to The Hallelujah Mountains. It made you feel a little better knowing that wasn’t entirely a lie. You were meeting him at the tree, you just wouldn’t be staying there. Neteyam was already there with his Ikran, kicking around pebbles that were on the edges.. He immediately noticed you coming down and greeted your Ikran, petting her head. He explained that it wasn’t too long of a fly from here, as you went to remount your Ikran he pulled you up onto his. Wrapping your arms around his waist as he flew, holding on tighter whenever a sharp turn was made. You rested your cheek against his back and enjoyed the scenery. You weren’t out flying at night often so seeing the night sky and wildlife was truly amazing. As promised, it didn’t take long until you were landing. 

You were really impressed by what you saw. It was a natural clear water spring. The water was sparkling and was so blue it looked pigmented. Tsawksyul and Melon Trees  surrounded it, keeping it relatively hidden. As you admired, Neteyam raced past you. Jumping into the pool of water, not only splashing you but showcasing how deep the water ran. You took off anything you didn't want to get wet and followed suit. The water was cold but not bone chilling. 

“Amazing right?” he asked, swimming towards the edge. Resting his arms on the outside of the pool. 

“More than amazing,” you say, swimming over towards him. That was when you noticed all the bruises and cuts littered across his arms and chest. 

“What happened,” you asked, pointing out all the injuries. 

“Depends on what you’re talking about,” he says, letting his head drop back now resting against the outside edge of the pool. You were treading water right in front of him, running your finger along the healing gash on his bicep. 

“This one?” you asked and without opening his eyes, he began to explain what happened. 

“I was on patrol when an explosion happened, it spooked my Ikran and I went falling. Luckily a tree broke my fall but it also did some damage,” he explained. 

“And here?” you asked, running your finger over his jaw where a clean scar was. 

“My dad told my brother how he used to grow hair on his face. You know when he lived on the star he was born. Lo’ak and I were trying to imitate how he shaved with his hunting knife. I got nicked pretty bad,” he chuckled, feeling slightly embarrassed about the memory. 

“Is it weird? Knowing your dad came from the Sky People?” you asked, now holding on to his shoulders. That way you could just float next to him in the water. 

“Sometimes. Especially because we’re fighting an entire war against them,” he sighed. 

You sat in comfortable silence for a while, not even noticing how close you’d drifted together. Bodies pressed against one another, you were taking in all the little details you’d never noticed before. Like how promodent his cupid's bow was and how muscular his arms really were. He looked so relaxed, almost like he was sleeping. Chest steadily rising and falling against yours. You laid your head on his shoulder and in kind, he rested his cheek against the top of your head. The sky was super clear and the stars were sparking so beautifully. There was hardly any wind, which allowed the two of you to stay in the water without being cold. You were dealing with a lot of inner turmoil. Wanting to ask if he had any love for you with all you had. However the fear of rejection was almost paralyzing. You admired so much about him, his intelligence, hunting skills and of course his looks. It made you feel insecure, like he looked past you when it came to things like romance. Using your arms to hoist yourself out of the pool. Grabbing your knife, you cut a melon off the tree. You heard Neteyam come out of the water and approach you from behind. 

“What’s wrong?” he asks. 

“I have a lot on my mind,” you say, sitting on the edge of the spring. Letting your feet soak in the water, him doing the same. 

“Tell me,” he says, playfully leaning over and bumping his shoulder into yours. 

“I really like how close we’re getting,” you say, avoiding eye contact. He leaned his head down in front of you. Playfully making the point that he wanted you to look at him. 

“Good, me too,” he smiled. 

“Is that all you feel? Are you happy being close or do you feel like we could be closer?” you ask, regretting the words even before they rolled off your tongue. He jokingly closes the gap of space between the two of you. As relieving as it felt not to be rejected right away, the suspense of an answer was drowning you,

“Neteyam..” you whine, taking a big bite of the melon. He waited until you were done chewing to grab your chin, making you look at him. 

“You have juice all over you,” he laughed, dipping his hand into the water and wiping your mouth and neck. Both laughing, you wrap your hands around his wrist as he continues washing the stickiness from the melon off.

Eventually the laughs died down and instead of his entire hand brushing over your face, only this thumb was tracing your lip. 

“Is this close enough?” he asks gently, leaning and catching you into a kiss. 

He holds your face with his hands, weaving your lips together. When the two of you went to face each other, your bodies fell back into the water. This didn’t stop the encounter, only deepened it. The front of both your bodies were pressed together. Your hands were playing with his hair. He was running his hands up and down your body slowly, like he was trying to memorize every curve. Pressing yourself against his bulge caused a low moan to vibrate off his lips. You take the beaded top you were wearing off. As you do so, he lifts you slightly so your chest is just barely out of the water. He stared at you for a moment, admiring your beauty before turning his attention back down. He takes one of your nipples into his mouth, sucking and flicking his tongue. He was switching back and forth, like he couldn’t decide which one he liked more. Becoming rougher, testing the limits of your body. 

You dip your head back, hair becoming soaked in water. The adrenaline pumping through your veins made you feel unreal. Like an out of body experience, not able to process what was happening. As much as you thought about how this would go, you never thought it would be like this. So passionate and beautiful. You started making out until your lips were swollen and tender. He pulls away and climbs out of the spring. Reaching for your hands, he pulls out shamelessly watching as the water runs off your body. He lays down in the soft thick grass growing near the spring. Pulling his shorts down and exposing himself. You straddle his lap, rubbing yourself against his shaft. The two of you are moaning from the friction. He pulls you down so that your lips are hovering over each other; every once in a while catching each other in a sloppy kiss. He lines himself up with your entrance, staying still and allowing you to sink down at your own pace. 

For a while you stayed still, adjusting to the size of his length. In between kissing, you liked looking down and seeing the pleasure written all over his face. Once the sting from his size went away, you slowly started rocking your hips. You impulsively pull your braid over your shoulder. At first you thought Neteyam might be hesitant to tsaheylu but he did the same with his. After connecting, you watched his eyes dilate at an alarming speed. It was such an intense rush, being able to feel exactly what he was feeling without communicating at all. Like the breath was completely taken out of your body and replaced. Like the two of you were existing as one being and the feeling was intoxicating. He sat up, resting his back against one of the melon trees. Rocking your hips back and forth while making intense eye contact. His mouth was hanging open and eyebrows furrowed. His hands were covered in calluses so when he ran his hands up your things it would scratch you a bit. 

You could tell he was getting close from how vocal he was becoming. Both of you were covered in sweat and breathing heavily. He wraps his arm around your waist, switching the position. Even though he was now in more control, he still was gentle while maintaining his strength. The amount of love you felt coming off him was overwhelming, enough to bring tears to your eyes. Wondering how a moment you were so worried would be careless could be so full of passion and comfort. Both of you were close, pressing his forehead against yours as the two of you came. Both of you were bucking your hips at your own erratic paces, riding out the high. Moaning and whining as the overwhelming pleasure flooded your bodies. Feeling completely exhausted he pulls out and lays down on the grass next to you. Pulling you into his arms before the two of you fell asleep.