#i think i said i was going to do this last year and never did it bc i tried to put too much effort in. like a fool | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

joemama-2 · 1 day ago

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velvet lies

pairing: gojo x fem reader synopsis: crippling debt and possible evictions have ruined you. working two jobs with no downtime, and a five-year-old son, you really don't know the meaning of taking a break. after continuous questions about his father, you have decided to finally let your son meet his dad. only thing is, he has no idea said son exists. and to top it off, you have not a single clue about what kinds of things will transpire from this sudden revelation. wc: 7.4k (shorter chap woop) tags/warnings: 18+ MDNI, smut, fluff, romance, alcohol, classism, mom! reader, lying, abuse, MAJOR angst, slow burn, exes to lovers, (mentions of) cheating, scandals, death, blood, drugs, drama, family drama, miscommunication, blackmail, unhealthy coping mechanisms , depression, manipulation series masterlist < previous chapter < next chapter

Year: Early 2018

He hasn’t been answering your phone calls. Or your texts. A growing sense of anxiety and worry forms in your gut. You've trained yourself to push down the more insidious thoughts that threaten your already deteriorating relationship. It’s been a long day for you. From work, to your annoying mother, and now to your M.I.A boyfriend. You wanted to relax at home with a movie and soothing music, maybe even food. However, it’s been hard to eat for the past few weeks.

The last place you wanted to be was at some house party with snobby people who probably never have realized the true meaning of a dollar. The music is loud and the blue lights do nothing but further annoy you, reminding you of just how much you hate parties. Pushing through the throngs of people, either too drunk to high to give your rudeness a huff.

It’s not hard to spot him, but the sight makes you dig your nails into your palms. Feeling bile rise in your throat when a girl—one you’ve never seen before—is getting too close and personal with your man. And worst of all? He’s not even pushing her away. He’s obviously drunk. Still, you assumed he would have that much decency to push back flirting advances from random girls. He always did.

But things have been changing recently, slowly but surely. Ever since that happened.

Your feet work quickly, forcing yourself to stay determined and not break down and cry right now. You’ve been doing too much of that. “Satoru.” You call out, voice loud and firm enough that he swivels his head to meet your eyes on just the first try. The girl does so also, head tilting in a scrutinizing way that you hate. “Are you drunk?”

The tint on his cheeks is proof enough. But so is his lazy grin. “What do you think?”

The girl giggles, leaning into your boyfriend’s arm. Watching her do so sends a wave of fury down your spine. You would have stepped in if it weren’t for Satoru finally being a decent man and pulling away from her. “Sorry, you gotta go.”

“Excuse me?” The girl huffs, scowling in disgust. “For what? I thought we were having a good time.”

So, they were together the whole night, huh? They probably would have stayed together if you didn’t make an appearance. What if they would have taken things further? What if Satoru imitated something? You can already feel the familiar tingle at the back of your throat, turning around and heading back for the door. He follows, grabbing your arm in an attempt to stop you. “Y/N—“

“Don’t.” You grit, yanking your arm away and pushing your way back out to the front of the large house, ignoring some of a drunken couple’s protests as you ruin their make-out session. When you make your way onto the sidewalk, you feel a more insistent tug at your wrist that causes you to face him fully. Meeting his glazed-over eyes with your own teary pair, biting down on your quivering lip. “Why didn’t you answer your phone? Why are you ignoring me?”

He sighs, running a hand down his face when he lets go of you. “I’m not ignoring you, Y/N. I’m sorry, I should have told you I’d be out. But it was last minute.”

A scoff falls from your lips. “Last minute, huh? Is that what you call it? Hanging around some random girl and acting like you don’t have a worried girlfriend waiting for you?”

“Y/N—“

“Did you cheat on me?” You ask, voice cracking. Your tears now flow freely down your face, eyes red. The expression you adorn does nothing but break his heart. He hates seeing you cry, he always has. And the small, sober part of him is cursing at himself for being such a jackass tonight. But the dominant, drunk side wants no part of an argument tonight.

“No, I didn’t. I’d never.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“I don’t know what you want me to say, Y/N.”

“I want you to be a good boyfriend for once!” You croak out, pushing him back by his shoulders. “Y-you know what I’m going through, you know how hard it’s been. And what do you do? You go out and party, you don’t tell me, and I find some random girl all up on you. And then you smiled like it was funny. D-do you know how much you’re hurting me even more, Satoru?” The trembling of your voice pokes at his heartstrings.

Satoru stares at you, his expression faltering. For a moment, you think you see guilt flicker across his face, but it’s quickly replaced by something colder—defensiveness. “I didn’t mean for any of this to happen, alright? I was just...blowing off steam.”

“Blowing off steam?” you repeat, your voice rising as fresh anger bubbles in your chest. “You call this blowing off steam? Ignoring me? Letting some girl throw herself all over you? You’re unbelievable.”

He rakes a hand through his hair, frustration clear in his movements. “What do you want me to do, Y/N? Stay at home and sulk all the time? I can’t—” He stops himself, biting his lip, but you know what he was going to say.

“You can’t what, Satoru?” Your voice cracks again, but this time it’s laced with more rage than sorrow. “You can’t deal with me? With everything I’m going through? You promised you’d be there for me. You said we’d get through this together.”

“I am here for you!” he snaps, but the slight slur in his voice takes the edge off his words. “But you’re acting like I can’t breathe without you questioning every little thing I do. I’ve been going through shit too, Y/N.”

You suck in a shaky breath. “That’s not fair,” you whisper, your fists clenching at your sides. “You know it’s not. If I didn’t care—if I didn’t love you—I wouldn’t be here, trying to fix this.”

He exhales heavily, his shoulders slumping. “I didn’t cheat on you, Y/N. I swear I didn’t. But I—” He hesitates, his gaze dropping to the ground. “I don’t know how to handle all of this, okay? It’s a lot.”

Your breath hitches, his words cut deeper than he probably intended. “You think this isn’t a lot for me too?” you ask, your voice trembling. “I’ve been trying so hard, Satoru. To hold on. To be strong. For both of us. But you’re slipping away, and I don’t know how to bring you back. I know how to handle things just as much as you do.”

He looks up then, his blue eyes clearer now, filled with something that looks almost like regret. For a brief second, you think he might apologize—might say the words you so desperately need to hear. But instead, he shakes his head and says, “Maybe we just need some space.”

The world tilts beneath you. His words echo in your mind, louder than the music still blaring from the house behind you. “Space?” you repeat, barely able to say the word. “You want to take a break?”

“I don’t know,” he admits, his voice quiet, almost defeated. “I just...I think we’re both hurting each other more than we’re helping.”

You laugh bitterly, wiping at the tears streaming down your face. “No, Satoru. You’re hurting me. You’re the one who stopped trying. You’re the one who’s giving up.” He flinches at your words, but he doesn’t argue. And somehow, that hurts even more. You shake your head, stepping back from him. “If space is what you want, then fine. But don’t expect me to be here waiting when you figure yourself out.”

You turn and walk away, your heart shattering with every step. This isn’t how you imagined the night would go. It isn’t how you imagined your relationship would go. But as you leave him standing there on the sidewalk, you can’t help but wonder if this was inevitable all along.

The same song begins to play. Because soon, his arms are wrapping around you before you even know it, shoving his face into the side of your neck. “No, no, I-I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that. I’m drunk, okay? Please don’t leave, please. L-let’s just go home, my parents aren’t there. Please, Y/N. I’m sorry.”

And like a broken record, you give in. Because the broken part of you still craves him. His touch, his comforting hugs, his words. His everything. You feel like a puzzle with pieces too big or small to fit, some pieces lost. But with Satoru, he makes them fit. He finds those pieces of you; the ones you can’t find yourself. In a way, you know things are failing and falling apart.

But you’re laying back in his bed, feeling the constant vibration of your phone. Texts from your mother and you have no doubt she’s blowing up your phone about the way you snuck out and demanding to know where you are. It’s interesting, you’re twenty-one but she treats you like a kid. All because you still live with her.

Your heart feels heavy, your stomach twisting with nausea and you’re not even the drunk one. His hands hold your teary cheeks, meeting your gaze with watery ones of his own. Combined tears wet his pillow until there’s no more to give out. He’s been crying with you, but sometimes it feels fake.

“Did you cheat on me?” You ask again, whispering in a shaky tone.

His lips purse and he shakes his head. “…no, I didn’t. I told you, I’d never.”

You search his face, looking for cracks in the foundation of his words. His sorrowful eyes, flushed cheeks, and trembling hands—all of it feels sincere, but it doesn’t feel like enough. Not so much anymore. “You’re sure?” you whisper, your voice barely audible over the pounding of your heart.

“I’m sure,” he says, his voice soft but firm. “I swear to you, Y/N. I’d never do that to you. Never.” His thumb brushes away a stray tear on your cheek, and for a moment, the warmth of his touch almost convinces you.

Almost.

You close your eyes, exhaling shakily as his hands cradle your face. You want to believe him. You need to believe him. But the doubt lingers like a shadow, clawing at the edges of your mind. “Then why do I feel like I’m losing you?” you ask, your voice breaking.

Satoru flinches, his hands momentarily faltering before steadying again. “You’re not losing me,” he says quickly, almost desperately. “I know I’ve been...different lately, but it’s not because I don’t care. I just—” He pauses, his gaze dropping as if searching for the right words. “I don’t know how to handle this, Y/N. I don’t know how to be what you need right now. There’s so much and I…” his voice trails off, fearing he’s saying too much and it’ll only make you feel worse. Make himself feel worse.

Your chest tightens, his confession cutting deeper than you expected. “I don’t need you to have all the answers, Satoru. I just need you to try. To be honest with me. To stop shutting me out. You…you’re the only one—you’re all I have right now.”

“I’m trying,” he insists, his voice cracking under the weight of his emotions. “I swear I’m trying. But it feels like...like no matter what I do, it’s not enough. And I hate it. I hate that I’m hurting you.”

The rawness in his voice pulls at something in you, making it harder to keep the walls around your heart intact. You open your eyes, meeting his gaze. For a moment, the vulnerability in his expression mirrors your own. “I don’t want to lose you, Satoru,” you say softly. “But I can’t keep doing this. I can’t keep feeling like I’m the only one fighting for us.”

“You’re not,” he whispers, his hands tightening slightly on your face as if afraid you’ll slip away. “You’re not, Y/N. I know I’ve messed up, but I’ll do better. I promise. Just...don’t give up on me. Please.”

The plea in his voice, the tears in his eyes—they’re enough to make the broken pieces of your heart shift, trying to fit back together even if they don’t quite align. Against your better judgment, you nod, letting out a shaky breath. “Okay,” you whisper. “But this is your last chance, Satoru. I mean it.”

“I know,” he says, his voice barely above a whisper. “I won’t mess this up. I promise.” But Satoru isn’t the best at promises. He’s only good at making them for others, not keeping them for himself.

As he pulls you into his arms, holding you as if you might vanish, you can’t help but wonder how many more promises you’ll let him break before there’s nothing left of you to give. But for now, you let yourself sink into his embrace, hoping—maybe foolishly—that this time will be different. Because he’s all you have. All you know. He knows you inside and out—the way your voice wavers when you’re holding back tears, the way your hands fidget when you’re nervous, the way you laugh like it’s the only thing keeping you from breaking. And you know him just as deeply. Every freckle on his skin, every scar that tells a story, every mole you’ve discovered in moments of intimacy. You’ve memorized him like a favorite book, reading him over and over until the lines blur but still feel familiar.

You two are like each other’s canvases—painted with touches, kisses, and shared memories, even the messy ones. Every fight, every tear-streaked night, every whispered “I’m sorry” adds another layer to the masterpiece that is you and him. But lately, it feels like the colors are running, bleeding into one another until the picture is unrecognizable. And you don’t know if you can fix it, or if you even should. Never did you think that things would change so much, and all because of one failed situation.

What a weak body you have, what a weak person you are.

He holds you tighter, his fingers threading through your hair as if grounding himself in your presence. “You’re everything to me, Y/N,” he murmurs, his voice so quiet you almost don’t catch it. “I know I’ve been a mess, but I swear I’ll fix this. I’ll fix us.”

But his promises feel like paint on a waterlogged canvas—fading, smudged, and far too fragile. Still, you nod, letting the comfort of his warmth lull you into silence. Because no matter how fractured you feel, no matter how much the doubt weighs on your chest, he’s all you have. You can’t handle the thought of facing everything alone now, can’t handle the thought of not having someone to hug you when you burst down in tears.

You hate the way things are now, but you’ve sunk too deep into him. And him the same. Over time, you feel like he will retract his hold from you before you do so yourself. You can almost feel it coming, one way or another. It’s why you’re holding him tighter, pressing your body deeper into his. Because you know you wouldn’t be able to do it yourself. Awaiting the inevitable hurts so bad. Knowing that no matter what, your end is visible. You can see the finish line just a few yards away. It’s like a race, and you’re letting Satoru win. Envisioning him running his long legs to the checkered line with a smile on his face like he’s happy—relieved. You don’t want to hold him, that’s the last thing you want to do. However, you’re being as selfish as you can be right now. Before every privilege is stripped from you in a cold manner that will leave you shivering for warmth. But his presence is something. And for now, that’s enough to keep you here and sane.

Little did you know, you'd win that race before he did. You just needed that little push. He's the hare, and you're the tortoise.

You stay in his arms, the steady rise and fall of his chest beneath your cheek a constant reminder of the closeness you’ve always shared. It feels almost like an illusion, the peace between you both. But underneath, there’s a tension that hasn’t quite loosened, a thread pulled tight between the two of you, holding you close but threatening to snap at the slightest tug. His grip tightens, his fingers threading into your hair, pulling you closer as if trying to fuse your two worlds together. The quiet hum of the room feels almost suffocating now. Your phone continues to buzz with your mother’s increasingly frantic texts, but you can’t bring yourself to care about that right now. Not with Satoru’s breath warm on your neck and his hands gently caressing your skin. Not when it’s easier to let him hold you in this fragile moment of peace.

You close your eyes, your fingers curling around the fabric of his shirt. The quietness stays for a long moment, But when he speaks, it’s almost a whisper, like he’s afraid of the truth that might spill out.

“I’ll try. I’ll be here for you, Y/N. I swear it.”

You wonder if you can truly believe him this time. If you can let yourself hope that things might really change. But the doubt is a familiar companion, lingering in the shadows, waiting to remind you of the cracks in his promises. Still, for tonight, you let it go. You let yourself sink into him, giving into the small piece of comfort he offers, hoping that maybe, just maybe, this time will be different.

You wake up in a cold sweat, dried tears staining your cheeks. Your stomach feels sensitive, nails already digging into your palms so hard that the skin is growing red and prickly. Every emotion you felt from that dream—nightmare—whatever it was feels ten times more real. You don’t know why you’re having these weird dreams about something from years ago.

But it still hurts all the same, nonetheless.

You still feel hollow, drowned, and ready to pour your heart out into your pillow. But it’s morning and time to get up for bed. Christmas Eve is in three days and you’re just counting down until when you won’t have to go into work. Going through your routine, getting Koji ready for the day, opening the door for Sana. Leaving your place of solitude, it feels like you barely even lived through this morning.

The chill of the morning air hits your skin as you step outside, tugging your coat tighter around you. The weight of your dream lingers, like a fog that refuses to lift. You keep telling yourself it was just a dream, just a memory from a time you’ve tried so hard to bury. But it clings to you like a ghost, whispering doubts into your ear, even as you force yourself to move through the motions. you can’t help but glance up at the sky, the gray clouds reflecting the heaviness in your chest. Christmas Eve is in three days, and you can’t wait to take a break from not just work—from everything.

If only escaping your past was as easy as flipping the calendar to a new year.

Satoru texts you around the 2-hour mark that he’ll be going over to your place soon to see Koji and bring the gifts he got. You let Sana know of the change, she replies back with a simple ‘okay!’

You sigh, willing yourself to forget about the drama your life entails, and focus on your work.

However, another thought is creeping in through the door, and this time—it’s not such a bad one. You feel a fluttering sensation in your gut, holding back a peal of stifled laughter as the memory of last night makes its presence known. After the whole shirt incident, Suguru stayed. He kept his word about not making anything weird, and you two ended with a simple chat and a movie. It felt nice.

Of course, there were hints of lingering peeks, that strange tension tossed up in the air that neither of you fully addressed. But it’s fine, it didn’t mean anything at the end of the day. Although, when it was time for him to leave, you did have a second of hesitation about whether you should hug him or simply say goodbye. He decided for you when he carefully opened his arms up, you followed suit.

Inhaling his scent felt heavenly. Manly, but also feminine at the same time. An earthly scent that felt like hints of incense. The memory of his embrace lingers like the faintest trace of his cologne, warm and comforting. It wasn’t just the way he held you—it was the way he made you feel. Secure. Understood. Like you weren’t just surviving, but living, even if just for that moment.

You haven't hugged a man in so long. You forgot how good they hug.

You shake your head, a small smile pulling at your lips despite yourself. It wasn’t anything. It shouldn’t be anything. Suguru’s always been like that—gentle, kind, and just a little too perceptive for his own good. He knew exactly when to stay and exactly what you needed without you even having to say it. Still, you can’t ignore the way your heartbeat picked up when his arms wrapped around you, the way your cheek brushed against his shoulder, and how your fingers had almost lingered a little too long against his back. It felt natural, but also entirely new.

Suguru’s presence was so easy, so effortless. It felt like slipping into an old favorite sweater, soft and familiar but with a spark of something you couldn’t quite place. You’d been so wrapped up in keeping everything together, in pushing through every day for Koji’s sake, that you’d almost forgotten what it felt like to be seen.

You wonder if Satoru holds the same longing you do.

You shake the thought away as quickly as it comes. Don’t think about him. There’s no point in overthinking any of this.

“Hello, you must be Koji’s father.” Sana greets Satoru who stands in the doorway. With him, two armfuls of gifts. Even more on the floor next to his feet.

Simply nodding and looking over her shoulder to see Koji eating his lunch. “And you’re the babysitter.” Without much else, he carefully pushes past her, bringing in the gifts. “Mind getting the rest? Thanks.”

She nods, grabbing what was left on the floor before bringing it in, closing and locking the door. When she turns back around, Koji is in his father’s embrace. She smiles at the scene. “Ms. Y/N told me you’d be coming. He’s been good so far, he’s just eating his lunch now.”

“That’s good to hear,” Satoru replies, pulling away from his son. Doing a quick scan of the place before his eyes land back on the young woman. “How long have you been watching my son again?”

“A couple of years.”

He hums, walking closer to her. “And you’re how old?”

Sana blinks, surprised by the question. "I'm twenty," she says cautiously, her polite smile wavering slightly under his scrutiny.

Satoru raises an eyebrow, his gaze sharp but unreadable. "Twenty, huh? Pretty young to be taking care of kids."

“I’ve been babysitting since I was sixteen,” she replies, straightening her posture. “I’m studying early childhood education, so it’s not just a job to me. I care about Koji.”

His expression softens a fraction, and he glances back at his son, who’s happily munching away at his sandwich. “He does seem to like you,” Satoru admits, his tone less probing now.

“He’s a great kid,” Sana says warmly. “Very smart, just like his mother.”

That earns her a faint smile. “Yeah, just like his mother.” He crosses his arms, leaning casually against the counter. “So, Y/N told you I’d be stopping by today?”

“Yes, she mentioned it when I got here this morning.”

Satoru nods, tapping his fingers against his forearm thoughtfully. “Good. Thanks for helping out today. I know it’s probably not easy juggling school and babysitting.”

“It’s manageable,” Sana replies, sensing a subtle change in his demeanor. “Koji makes it worth it.”

Satoru’s gaze lingers on her for a moment longer before he straightens up. “I’ll take over from here. You can go ahead and clock out early if you want.”

“Oh, are you sure?”

“Yeah,” he says, waving her off. “Enjoy the rest of your day. I’ve got this.”

Sana hesitates briefly, glancing at Koji, who’s still blissfully unaware of the conversation. “Alright then. Have a good evening, Mr. Gojo.”

As she gathers her things and heads for the door, she feels his eyes on her. It’s not hostile, but it’s assessing. Like he’s trying to gauge something about her. She doesn’t dwell on it, though—whatever it is, it’s not her place to question. “Oh!” She turns around as if she just remembered something. “Ms. Y/N leaves a list. It’s taped to the—”

“I don’t need a list to take care of my son.” He cuts her off smoothly, his one eyebrow raising. “Thanks again, have a good day.”

She falters, once again caught a little off guard. This is her first time meeting him, and while she’s of course seen the articles and comments about the drama surrounding the small family, she has no bias. In fact, she sympathizes greatly with you for going through all this alone. As she’s leaving the apartment, she can’t help the small opinion of Satoru that he’s already given her.

He’s so intimidating!

After she leaves, Satoru focuses back on his son—this shitty apartment. He hasn’t explicitly voiced his opinions out to you—of course you already know what they are. And as you said before, it’s all you could afford, and Koji’s happy. However, he can’t stop himself from grimacing at the so-called ‘decorations’. This place needs some serious revamping.

“Hey, buddy?”

Koji looks over, wiping his mouth. “Yes, Papa?”

“When you’re done eating, want to help me with something?” And Koji doesn’t need to be told anymore. He loves helping—especially his mother and father. So he nods excitedly, practically scarfing down the rest of his sandwich. Bubbling with giddiness only a child could have.

Satoru chuckles at his son’s behavior, heart warming. This is the first time he’s doing something festive with Koji. The bitter part of him tells him that he could’ve had more chances to do so if it weren’t for your cowardness. But he shoves that away, focusing on the jolly joy the holidays can bring.

Today was more tiring than usual, with the cafe gaining more attention, there’s been rush after rush after rush. You can handle it, but that doesn’t mean it won’t wear you down by the time you clock out. And your day isn’t even done yet. Slugging your way to your front door, lazily opening it with your key. Tossing your coat on the nearby rack, your bag with it.

“I’m ba—”

You sniffle. One. Twice.

A pinecone-y scent fills your nostrils. Which is strange because you know you have no candles that house that aroma. Confusion, but wariness takes over your senses. Following the sound of laughter down the hall until you’re standing in the living room.

The sight you see is more than startling.

Your eyes dart around in a frenzy, landing on one new thing after the next. The small, simple Christmas tree you’d put up last week? Replaced by a towering, impeccably decorated monstrosity with shimmering lights and a star that looks like it came straight out of a luxury catalog. It barely even fits in the room. Luckily, the small picture ornament of you and Koji is still there. But it looks so out of place.

The garlands you’d strung across the walls? Gone, swapped for lush, sparkling ones adorned with oversized ornaments. Even your modest stockings have been replaced with personalized velvet ones embroidered with gold thread, hanging perfectly above a faux fireplace setup that definitely wasn’t there this morning.

It’s like a winter wonderland exploded in your living room, and you’re not sure whether to laugh or scream.

Koji is sitting on the couch, giggling as Satoru playfully pretends to tangle himself in a string of fairy lights. Your son’s laughter is contagious, but you can’t shake the growing irritation bubbling inside you. When Koji notices you, his eyes brighten even more. Gaping and rushing over to your leg, hugging it. “Mama! Mama! Look what Papa and I did! It’s so pretty and there are so many presents!”

There is. There’s a lot of presents. Practically stacking on top of one another under your refurbished tree. Hidden somewhere in the splurge are the gifts Suguru got for you and Koji.

Gulping, you feel your throat tighten. You feel nothing but overwhelmed. But in the face of your son, you can’t exactly show that. You force a smile as you ruffle Koji’s hair, trying to push down the irritation clawing its way to the surface. “Wow, it’s… definitely something,” you say, your voice strained but managing to sound somewhat amused for Koji’s sake.

Satoru, now untangled from the lights, looks up from the couch with that boyish grin of his. “Do you love it or do you love it?” he asks, gesturing to the extravagant decor like he’s unveiling a masterpiece.

You blink at him, incredulous—but still attempting to keep yourself calm. “What… what happened to the decorations we already had?”

“Oh, those?” He waves a dismissive hand. “Let’s just say they weren’t really up to par. I mean, come on, Y/N. That tree you had? It was like something out of a Charlie Brown Christmas special. I couldn’t let Koji’s holiday spirit suffer like that.”

Your jaw tightens, the forced smile threatening to slip. “So, you just… decided to replace everything? Without asking me?”

He stands, brushing off invisible dust from his jeans as if the weight of his decision is nothing. “You were busy, and I figured you’d appreciate coming home to something nice for once. Besides, look at Koji—he’s thrilled!”

Koji tugs at your sleeve, his wide-eyed excitement piercing through your annoyance. “It’s so cool, Mama! Look at all the shiny ornaments! And Papa let me pick out the star!” Your son runs over to show off a few of the many, many presents he has. Showing extra excitement for the heavier and larger ones. “Papa says it’s magical. I want to have a magical Christmas every time, Mama.”

The words, innocent but heavy, almost make you physically kneel down. You feel your chest tighten, your throat closing up even more. The lump that forms is difficult to swallow down. The implication of Satoru’s and your son's words feels a bit degrading. And you don’t blame it on Koji, he means nothing malicious. But for some reason, being faced with the physical line of difference between you and Satoru, watching your son’s face light up in a way that you’ve never seen before…

It reminds you that your enough has never been enough. Each Christmas, it’s dull. Your Christmases aren’t magical. Your life isn’t.

You feel the weight of it all crashing down like the oversized star on the new tree is pressing on your chest. Satoru's extravagance, Koji's innocent excitement, and your own feelings of inadequacy swirl together into a storm you’re barely holding back.

Your forced smile falters, but you quickly kneel to Koji's level, brushing his hair away from his glowing face. “It’s beautiful, sweetheart,” you say softly, voice trembling but steady enough to reassure him. “I’m glad you had fun with Papa.”

Koji beams, and for a moment, his joy is a balm to your frayed nerves. “It’s pretty, isn’t it, Mama?”

You bite the inside of your cheek. “So pretty.” Standing slowly, your hand lingers on Koji’s shoulder. “Really pretty,” you repeat quietly, not committing to anything. You can feel Satoru watching you, his casual demeanor only adding to your irritation. The worst part of it all is that it seems like he genuinely has no idea what he did wrong.

In hindsight, maybe he didn’t. It wasn’t his intention to make you feel like a shitty mother, but Satoru is good at pointing out the differences in his own ways.

When Koji bounds back to the pile of gifts, you finally let yourself meet Satoru’s gaze. “You really didn’t think to talk to me about this?”

His grin fades just a fraction, replaced by a look of confusion. “What’s there to talk about? I wanted to do something special for Koji. And let’s be honest, Y/N—this is special.”

“It’s not about the decorations, Satoru,” you snap, your voice low but sharp. “It’s about you making decisions without considering how I might feel about it. Again.”

He tilts his head, the glower returning, though it feels sharper now. “You’re overthinking this. It’s just Christmas decorations, Y/N. Look at Koji—he’s happy. Isn’t that what matters?”

You clench your fists, the tightness in your chest threatening to spill over into something you can’t control. “You don’t get it, do you? This isn’t just about the decorations. It’s about you coming in here and acting like everything I do is subpar. Like I’m not enough.”

The words hang heavy in the air, and for a moment, Satoru’s expression falters. But he recovers quickly, shoving his hands into his pockets and leaning against the arm of the couch. “Y/N, no one’s saying that. You’re reading too much into this. I just wanted to make things nice for Koji, that’s all.”

Your laugh is bitter, and it catches even you off guard. “Right. Because your version of nice is always the right one. I’m just the placeholder until you decide to step in and fix everything, aren’t I?”

Satoru’s eyes narrow slightly, the playful spark he had with Kojidimming. “That’s not fair.”

“Isn’t it?” you counter, your voice breaking despite your effort to stay calm. “You swoop in with all your money and your grand gestures, and I’m supposed to just smile and be grateful. But do you even realize how hard I’ve worked to give Koji a Christmas he’ll enjoy? How much I’ve sacrificed just to keep things normal?”

His silence stings more than any retort could.

Koji’s laughter in the background feels distant now, muffled by the sound of your own heartbeat pounding in your ears. He’s too distracted with the tree, his presents, everything. You inhale deeply, trying to steady yourself, before forcing a calmness you don’t feel. You won’t fight in front of him.

“I’m going to get changed,” you mutter, not waiting for a response.

As you leave the room, Satoru calls after you, his voice softer but no less exasperated. “Y/N, come on. Don’t make this into a bigger deal than it is.”

But to you, it already feels like a chasm. One that grows wider with every passing second.

You shut your door, leaning against it with your forehead. Breaths coming in short, hands trembling slightly. Biting your quivering lip, you maneuver your body to change into your uniform. All the while, tears are getting on your hands and clothes. Accidentally, you let out a small, broken whimper.

Quickly, you place a palm to your mouth, stifling and quieting your soft cries. Once you’re done changing, you fall back onto the bed. Curled up with knees drawn to your chest, as the burden of your own self-consciousness rains down on you. The room feels suffocatingly small, your emotions clawing at your throat, demanding to be let out.

The tears come harder now, soaking into the fabric of your uniform as you press your hands to your face, muffling the quiet sobs. You hate this—how easily Satoru gets under your skin, how he makes you feel insignificant without even trying. You thought you were past this. Past him. But somehow, he always finds a way to remind you of all the ways you’ve fallen short. Or at least, all the ways he makes you feel like you have.

There’s a soft knock on the door.

“Y/N?” His voice is muffled through the wood, quieter than usual as if he’s trying not to disturb you. “Are you okay?”

You don’t answer, biting down on your lip to keep from making another sound.

“Look,” he continues, his tone hesitant. “I know I upset you. I didn’t mean to. Can we just… talk?”

For a moment, you consider staying silent, letting him stew in his own discomfort. But the tension is too thick, and you know Koji is just down the hall. With a shaky breath, you push yourself to your feet, wiping at your face in a futile attempt to erase the evidence of your tears. Wiping your face and straightening your clothes, you open the door. “I have work.” You mutter, expertly enforcing a placid emotion. “Will you watch him?”

Without waiting for a response, you walk past him. But he grabs at your wrist, instinctively you pull away. “Stop, just stop, okay? Let’s not fight. We’re adults, we can talk this out. I don’t mean to make you feel less than, I just wanted to make Koji happy.”

“And do you think he’s not happy with me?” You snap back, looking up at him. Feeling your vision already beginning to blur. “Do you? Do you think he’ll be happy with you? I-Is that it?”

Satoru’s eyes widen slightly at your outburst, and for a moment, he doesn’t respond. The air between you feels like it could snap under the weight of everything left unsaid. His hand hovers near his side, as if he wants to reach out again but knows better now. “No,” he says softly, his voice steady but lined with regret. “That’s not what I meant. Koji is happy with you. He loves you more than anything.”

“Then why do you keep acting like what I do isn’t enough?” you whisper, your voice trembling as you maintain eye contact with him. “I’ve been doing this alone, Satoru. Every scraped knee, every fever, every night when he cries because he’s scared of the dark—I’m there. Not you. Me. So don’t you dare come in here, throw your money around, and act like you can just fix everything with some… Christmas wonderland.”

“But you didn’t let me come in sooner, Y/N.” He replies, exasperation in his voice.

“I know that, and I’m sorry. I know I fucked up…”

“Then stop getting mad at little things.”

Your fists ball up, your expression growing firmer by the second. But so is the need to cry again. He’s right, everything he says is right. It’s your own fault that you’ve been forced to handle everything alone. But, don’t your feelings matter just a little bit in this situation? Is he allowed to just come in and fix up everything you have? What he thinks is a mess, it’s something that holds significance to you. What he thinks is a little thing, it’s a big one in your eyes.

So while this scenario is blowing up into something bigger, your decorations are something you have control of. You only have control over so many things in your life.

He exhales slowly, rubbing the back of his neck. “I’m not trying to take anything away from you, Y/N. I swear. I just… I wanted to give him something special. Something I never had growing up.”

It makes you feel even more guilty. You can’t find it in you to say anything else, turning back around and walking to the living room. “Goodbye, Koji. Mama will see you later.” Giving him a brief hug and kiss, you hurriedly grab your coat and purse, exiting your apartment just as fast as you came.

Unbeknownst to you, Koji is left staring at the closed door. His head tilting in curiosity, while a frown pulling at the corner of his lips. He looks up at his father when he enters the living room again, the two owning matching guises. “Why’d Mama leave so fast? I wanted to show her the drawing we did.” The white paper in his hands pictures three figures. Each one smiling, the smaller boy in the middle holding hands with his two parents on either side of him. He even drew blue snowflakes.

There’s a red heart around them with the words My family! at the top.

Satoru stands there, staring at the door you just closed, feeling the weight of Koji’s innocent question settle on his shoulders. He sighs, running a hand through his hair as he glances down at his son, whose big, curious eyes are filled with disappointment.

“She’s just tired, buddy,” Satoru replies, crouching down to Koji’s level. His tone is softer now, more measured, as he tries to mask the turmoil bubbling under his calm façade. “She’s been working really hard, you know? Grown-up stuff.”

Koji’s frown deepens, his little brows furrowing. “But we worked hard too! We did the tree and the presents and everything!” His tiny hands gesture to the decorated room, his frustration clear. “Mama’s s’posed to be happy.”

Satoru feels his chest tighten at the words. He places a hand on Koji’s shoulder, squeezing gently. “She is happy, Koji. She just… needs some time, that’s all. Grown-ups can be funny like that.”

Koji looks down, fiddling with his fingers before glancing back up. “Is it my fault?”

Satoru’s heart aches at the question, and he immediately shakes his head, pulling Koji into a firm hug. “No, not even a little bit. You didn’t do anything wrong, Koji. Don’t ever think that, okay?”

Koji nods slowly against his father’s shoulder but remains quiet. Satoru pulls back, cupping his son’s face in his hands. “Mama loves you so much, Koji. More than anything in the world. Don’t ever forget that.”

“Okay…” Koji mumbles, still not entirely convinced. He inhaled deeply, then spoke again. “Do…does Mama love you too?”

The question catches him off guard, putting an even bigger weight on Satoru’s shoulders. He should’ve expected it, Koji is a curious kid who still doesn’t completely grasp the complexities of his parents’ relationship. Satoru smiles faintly, kissing Koji’s cheek. “Mama has a lot of love.”

The answer satisfies Koji. For now.

Satoru ruffles his son’s hair. “How about we finish that drawing? We’ll save it for her when she gets back.”

Koji perks up slightly, nodding. “Okay! But you gotta color inside the lines this time, Papa.”

Satoru chuckles, relieved to see even a small smile return to Koji’s face. “Deal. But only if you promise not to make fun of me if I mess up. I’m sensitive.”

Koji giggles, taking his father’s hand to lead him back to the small table. As they sit down to continue their drawing, Satoru steals a glance at the door again, his smile faltering for just a second.

He’s trying—he really is. But he wonders if it’ll ever be enough. It’s like no matter what he does, you don’t like it; and vice versa. He’s being as understanding and nice as someone in his situation can be. At times, he feels he’s being even too nice to you. He knew things wouldn’t be easy, but he wants to spend time with his son. Make up for all the lost time, and even the littlest moments. It’s almost a little bit unfair of you to throw the fact that he has money and you don’t in his face like that. He didn’t ask to be born rich. Just like you didn’t ask to be born…like that. You’re the adults in this situation, there’s a kid involved. So truly, he wishes he could just have a single conversation with you that doesn’t feel anger-surged or bitter. Of course, it’s hard because of what has happened before, but there’s a time and a place, is there not?

Whatever. He’s more than happy to color with Koji and do whatever the little boy asks while you have your own moment. Satoru knows best of everyone else you like having space. And while many years have passed and his feelings for you have grown less than savory, he stills wants to respect your wishes after an argument with him.

He can’t help but think the obvious, though. Is it even worth attempting to mend whatever little shards of semblance there is left with you?

Probably not. Because after all, he’s here only for Koji.

Right?

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willowsnook · 1 day ago

Text

Comfort

request from @itznotsophia

lando norris x sainz!reader

I’d be insane not to love you

—————————————————————-

Happy tears streamed down your face as you watched your brother cross the finish line in Mexico. He needed this. Your whole family had flown out to the race, and you celebrated together in the garage before heading out to watch him on the podium.

This was the first race you had attended this year due to your hectic work schedule. Honestly, ever since you graduated high school you had only been able to make it to one or two races a season due to school or work. Right after graduating college, you took a job in investment banking in London. Your friends claimed you were a workaholic, but you loved being busy. You were living the big city career girl dream that you had always had.

Because of all this, watching Carlos take the win while you were there was even more special. He spun you around after the podium, and you laughed in his arms.

“My good luck charm,” he said, kissing the top of your head. “I’m glad you could come for this weekend.”

“Me too,” you said, smiling widely. You were the baby of the family, being 6 years younger than Carlos and the two of you had always had a special relationship despite the age gap. He really was your best friend.

Everyone headed back to the hotel to change and then head out for dinner. You changed out of your Ferrari jacket into a cuter outfit for dinner and then for what you assumed would happen afterward. Once you had freshened up, you headed down to the lobby, not seeing any of your family.

You looked around but only saw your brother’s friend and fellow driver, Lando, walking towards you. It had been a long time since you had been around him, and he definitely grew into himself over the years. You remembered when Carlos was at McLaren, you found him funny but very immature, so you never really gave him the time of day even though he followed you around like a lost puppy. He was a boy back then, but this was a man.

“Carlos had to head over there early to make the reservation time, so he tasked me with taking you,” he said once he reached you, with an easy-going smile.

“Wow, my Uber driver is professional? Lucky me,” you teased, and he chuckled. He hovered nervously near you, and you could tell he was deciding whether or not to give you a hug, so you made the decision for him, wrapping your arms around his shoulders. “It’s good to see you Lan.”

“You too, y/n,” he replied, stepping back with a tint of pink on his cheeks. “Shall we?”

You took his arm and followed him out the door and into his car that had been pulled up. You caught up over the car ride to dinner, and he peppered you with questions about your job and living in London.

“You should hit up Max and Pietra to hang out sometime,” he said and you shrugged, looking out the window.

“There your friends Lan,” you said. “Do you think I don’t have any friends?”

“I just know that you’d like them,” he defended. “I’m sure you are friends with everyone you meet.”

You smiled at the compliment and agreed to text Pietra when you were back to grab a coffee or something. You and Lando were the last to arrive, and he beat you to the seat next to Carlos, throwing you a cheeky smile over his shoulder. You rolled your eyes but sat beside him, across from Rebecca. Dinner was full of conversation and laughter, and your heart felt full.

After everyone finished up, the group headed to a nearby club to actually start celebrating. There were tons of paparazzi at the entrance, and you fiddled anxiously with your hands. This is something you did not miss about being around your brother. Lando was sitting next to you in the car and grabbed your hand to make you stop fidgeting.

“Just stick to my side yeah?” He said, and you nodded. Pulling to the front, he got out and handed his keys off before coming to your door. You let him take your hand and move into his side, his arm holding you close as he shielded you from the flashes. You smiled appreciatively at him once you made it to the group.

“Thanks Lan,” you said and he smiled back. Your brother was watching this interaction like a hawk but you missed seeing Rebecca elbow him in the ribs to get him to stop. Grabbing her arm, you dragged her to the bar to get a drink.

“So Lando huh,” she teased and you rolled your eyes.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you hummed, refusing to look at her.

“Carlos said that he still looks at you like he did back when you were 19.”

“No he doesn’t,” you argued. “He is my brother’s best friend and that’s all.”

She gave you a small smirk, clearly not believing you, and you groaned before handing her a shot. “No more talking about him.”

An hour later you were very tipsy and jumping around dancing with your family. You were too drunk to notice that Lando had been watching you while sipping on his drink, half listening to Carlos. Carlos however, did notice.

“Are you serious mate?” He asked, and Lando’s attention snapped back to your brother, who was glaring at him. “Eye-fucking my sister in front of me?”

Lando’s face blushed a deep red. “I am not.”

Carlos raised an eyebrow skeptically. "Right. And I'm not a Formula 1 driver."

Lando sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Look, I'm sorry. I know she's your sister. I just... I can't help it. She's amazing, Carlos. She always has been"

Carlos's expression softened slightly. "I know she is. But Lando, be careful. She's not just some girl you can mess around with. She's family."

"I would never hurt her," Lando said earnestly. "You know me better than that."

Just then, you stumbled over to them, giggling. "What are you boys talking about so seriously? It's a party!"

You threw your arms around both of their shoulders, oblivious to the tension. Carlos shot Lando a warning look over your head.

"Nothing important, hermanita," Carlos said, and you turned your attention to Lando.

"Dance with me?" you asked, holding out your hand. Lando hesitated for a moment, his eyes darting to Carlos, who just rolled his eyes and stalked away towards Rebecca.

"I don't know if that's a good idea," he said, but you could see the longing in his eyes.

"Come on, Lan. It's just a dance," you insisted, grabbing his hand and pulling him towards the crowd.

As you moved together to the beat, you felt the heat between your bodies intensify. His hands reached your waist, and you turned around, leaning your back into his chest. Feeling his breath hot on your neck, you turned your head up to look at him. His pupils were blown wide with desire,e but you knew he was holding back.

“You are asking for your brother to literally rip my head off,” he complained and you laughed loudly.

“Tell me you don’t want me,” you said, turning your whole body back to face him.

“You know I do,” he said huskily. Moving on your tiptoes, you pressed your lips gently against his, and you smirked against his lips as you heard your name being angrily called out.

“I’d start running now,” you told Lando as his eyes widened seeing Carlos marching towards the two of you. He gave you one last kiss before peeling off.

“Dios mio y/n,” your brother said, putting both his arms on your shoulders to shake you. “Remember what I told you when you were 18? No F1 drivers!"

“I’m not 18 anymore Carlos,” you said in a singsong voice to him. “But don’t worry, we don’t even see each other outside of you.”

“Keep it that way,” he said sternly.

The next morning you woke up hungover and embarrassed. You dug Lando’s number out of your contacts list and shot him a quick text apologizing to which he replied you can kiss me anytime ;)

—————————————————————

Life went back to normal when you got back to London with the exception of talking to Lando more. You had been casually texting, and you started to look forward to the end of your workdays to hear about his day.

After the Brazil race he had been radio silent. You had sent him a text right after, telling him to keep his head up and that he still was amazing but he had only liked the message. Honestly, you didn’t think much about his silence; you had only just reconnected, so you were very used to life without Lando Norris in it.

The following week, you had finally texted Pietra and met up with her for happy hour. It had been a long time since you had seen her, having met her through Lando all those years ago. The two of you spent hours catching up before he came up.

“Have you heard from Lando?” She asked while you were getting out your purse to pay your tab.

“Not since before the Brazil race, why?” You asked, meeting her worried eyes.

“He had mentioned that you guys had been talking more after Mexico, so I hoped he would reach out to you after Brazil.”

“Is something wrong?”

“I’m not sure,” Pietra said, biting her lip. “He hasn’t really been responding to Max and hasn’t been on any of the games. Max is worried. Could you call him or something?”

“Why me?” You asked, surprised. Pietra didn’t say anything for a minute, clearly battling with something internally.

“He’s different around you,” she finally said. “I think he might actually answer if you call.”

Her words sat with you the rest of the night, and as you were getting ready for bed, you decided to give in. You leaned against your headboard and hit the Facetime button, prepared to be declined. Right at the last ring, Lando’s face filled your screen, and your heart sank. He looked terrible. Dark circles around his eyes and messy hair. He was also lying in bed, but you could tell you hadn’t woken him up.

“Hi Lan,” you said softly.

“What’s up?” He asked, tiredness evident in his voice.

“Just calling to check in with you,” you said.

“I’m fine.” He replied shortly.

“Try again," you countered. He didn’t say anything for a couple of minutes and you waited out the silence.

“Okay, I’m not fine,” he said sighing. “I haven’t been able to sleep or eat much really.”

“Did you have dinner?” You questioned and he shook his head.

“I don’t have an appetite. I don’t want to talk about Brazil. Can you just talk to me about your week?”

You nodded and started to fill him in on everything that happened the past week and getting to catch up with Pietra. While you were talking, you put in an UberEats order to his place after getting his address from Max. He listened intently to you, making more comments as time went on, and you were happy to be a distraction.

“Are you coming to Vegas?” He asked and you shook your head.

“No, I’ll be at Qatar though.”

“Okay,” he said pouting. You could hear his doorbell ring in the background and he excused himself for a minute. When he came back, there was an unrecognizable look on his face as he picked the phone back up. “Did you order me food?”

“Mm-hmm,” you hummed, scrolling through social media on your phone. “You need to eat.”

“What’s next, going to stick Carlos on me to drag me out of my place?” He asked and you looked over at him.

“That’s not a bad idea,” you said and he groaned.

“I wish you were here,” he said quietly and you gave him a sad smile.

“Me too.”

——————————————————-

Qatar was very exciting for Ferrari, but your own celebrating was dulled because of what happened during Lando’s race. You followed Rebecca to your brother’s driver's room when he got back, and he was in mostly good spirits, but Carlos was usually positive about everything.

When the three of you were finally heading out, you ran into Oscar who was looking for Carlos. The two men talked quietly, and you were only able to pick up bits and pieces.

“…he won’t talk to anyone…could you try?”

“yeah…what hotel room is he in?”

Oscar said goodbye and you looked quizzically at Carlos.

“What’s wrong?”

“Lando is just being hard on himself as usual,” he replied casually but you could tell that it was worse than normal. The car ride to the hotel was silent, as your brother was worried about his friend. Once you go there, you started to head to your own room, but Carlos stopped you.

“Why don’t you just come with me?” He asked and you nodded, following him to the elevator.

Carlos knocked on Lando’s door, and you stood out of the way while trying to assess the situation.

“Hey man, I just wanted to check on you,” Carlos said.

“You didn’t need to, I’m fine,” Lando replied but the tremble in his voice told you otherwise. Carlos stepped to the side, and the second Lando saw you, his face crumpled.

“Oh Lan,” you murmured, closing the gap between you and wrapping your arms around him. He buried his head into your neck, letting out small sobs and you felt your heart breaking.

“It’s all my fault,” he cried and you rubbed his back soothingly.

“It’s not your fault Lan,” you whispered. “It was just unlucky. The season isn’t over.”

“It feels like it is,” he said, holding on to you tightly. Carlos mouthed that he was going to go and you nodded a goodbye before gently guiding Lando back into his hotel room, closing the door behind you. He reluctantly let go of you, wiping at his eyes with the back of his hand. You took in his disheveled appearance - he was still in his race suit, hair messy, and eyes red-rimmed from crying.

"Let's get you cleaned up, okay?" you said softly. Lando nodded, letting you lead him to the bathroom. You turned on the shower and helped him out of his race suit. Under normal circumstances, this level of intimacy might have felt awkward, but right now your only concern was taking care of him.

"I'll be right outside if you need anything," you told him. He gave you a small, grateful smile before stepping into the shower.

While Lando showered, you busied yourself tidying up the room and ordering room service. You knew he probably hadn't eaten anything, he clearly has gone straight from the debrief to here.

His phone rang, and you peeked to see that Max was calling. You answered, feeling like Lando wouldn’t mind.

“Hey Max, it’s y/n,” you greeted.

“Hey, how is he?” Max asked, concern lacing his voice.

“Not great but getting better,” you told him. “I just ordered room service and he’s getting cleaned up.”

“Good, try and get him to join me on Tarkov when he’s done, I think it might help,” he said.

“I can do that,” you replied.

“Thanks for being there y/n, you mean a lot to him,” Max said softly.

“Of course, I’ll talk to you later.”

It didn’t take much convincing to get Lando to join the stream, though he kept his camera off, which you appreciated. You sat on his bed behind him, reading a book you had gone to get from your own room. Every once in a while,e he would turn to look at you, a small smile gracing his face.

When it hit midnight you were dead tired and started to gather your things to leave.

“Can you stay?” Lando asked quietly.

You hesitated for a moment, your heart racing at his request. "Are you sure?" you asked softly.

Lando nodded, his eyes pleading. "Please. I just... I don't want to be alone right now."

You set your bag back down and gave him a small smile. "Okay, I'll stay."

Relief washed over his face as he turned back to his game. You settled back onto the bed, trying to get comfortable. After a while, Lando finally logged off and joined you on the bed, lying down next to you but keeping a respectful distance.

"Thank you," he murmured into the darkness. "For everything today."

You rolled onto your side to face him. "That's what friends are for, Lan."

He was quiet for a moment before speaking again. "Is that what we are? Just friends?"

Your breath caught in your throat at the question and his eyes bored into yours.

“I don’t know,” you answered honestly. “Are we?”

“I’d be insane to not want more with you,” he admitted.

Your heart raced at Lando's admission. You reached out tentatively, gently cupping his cheek with your hand. "Lando, I..."

He leaned into your touch, his eyes fluttering closed for a moment. When he opened them again, they were filled with hope and vulnerability, making your chest tighten.

"I want more too," you whispered. "But I'm scared. This could complicate so many things - your friendship with Carlos, my relationship with my brother, your career..."

Lando nodded, understanding in his eyes. "I know. Trust me, I've thought about all of that. But y/n, being with you... it would be worth it. You're worth it."

He inched closer to you on the bed, your faces now just inches apart. "We could take it slow," he suggested. "Figure things out together. I need you by my side.”

Instead of answering with words, you leaned in and pressed your lips to his. The kiss was soft and tender at first, but soon grew more passionate as the two of you gave in to your feelings for each other.

“You have to tell Carlos though,” you said as you pulled back and Lando rested his forehead against yours groaning.

“You’re lucky I’ve been waiting for this,” he said pouting, pulling you into his chest. You enjoyed the peacefulness of the rest of the night before the inevitable chaos would occur the next day.

#f1 imagine #f1 x reader #lando norris #lando norris x reader

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the-badger-mole · 2 days ago

Text

Clouds, Fog and Mists

The scholars and archeologists that Aang had been working with had come out of their museum basements and dimly lit studies with a wealth of Air Nomad histories and artifacts that had been lost during the war. Aang now had access to recipes he hadn't tasted in years, scrolls that gave historical context to the things he had just begun learning at age 12, and objects he had never seen, but was excited to learn the use of. At 22, he was just now learning that the Air Nomads had a variety of subcultures and customs he'd never encountered, even though he had visited every Air Temple that existed back then.

"Did you know..." became as common to his vocabulary as "hello" and "custard tart". Every day, he approached his wife with some new bit of lore he'd learned.

"Did you know that the Southern Air Nomads had a Festival of Remembrance?" he'd excitedly asked as Katara was hanging the laundry out to try. She was only half listening while she tried to keep Bumi, their nearly three year old son out of the basket of wet sheets, but she gave a polite hum of encouragement.

"For a whole week," Aang continued needing no further prompting, "no one was allowed to play music or speak. They even wore velvet over their feet so their footsteps wouldn't be too loud. Then, at the end of it, there was a huge party! Loud as anything with music and plays and games. I think I remember going one of those ending parties, but I didn't know about the vow of silence before it."

"That's fascinating, sweetie," Katara said, rubbing her heavy belly with a look of discomfort. She was seven months along with their second child, and this one was very active. "Bumi, last warning. Do not touch the clean clothes!"

"Okay, Mommy!" Bumi said before swatting at one of the sheets Katara had hung on the line. She sighed and turned to her husband.

"Can you take him?" she asked. "I'm tired, and I'd like to take a nap after I finish this."

"Oh," Aang said reluctantly. "I was going to have an afternoon session with the Acolytes. I'm dying to tell them what I've been learning."

"Aang, please?" Katara sagged tiredly, taking Bumi's hand and pulling him away from all her hard work.

"Alright," Aang sighed. "I'll watch him for a bit. Come on, Bumi! Let's go practice some air katas! I want you to be ready when your airbending kicks in!"

-:-:-:-:-:-

All Air Nomads were airbenders. That's what Aang had always been taught. He had to account for late bloomers, of course, but at age four, going on five, if Bumi was going to be an airbender, there would've been signs by now. Kya was a lost cause. She had started waterbending just before her second birthday, and despite the fact that her father was the Avatar, there was no chance that she would inherit the ability to control more than one element.

"Well, maybe it's not true that all Air Nomads were benders," Katara said with a shrug. "After all, not every Water Tribesman is a waterbender, and not everyone in the Earth Kingdom is an earthbender."

"It's different," Aang insisted. "The monks told me that all Air Nomads were benders because we have a unique connection with our spirituality." Katara didn't quite manage to hide her annoyance from him.

"Then explain our kids," she said. "Unless you're the first Air Nomad in history to have children with a non-Air Nomad, someone somewhere got something wrong." Aang went quiet after that. He had no response.

"Just because the Air Nomads may have had children with people from other nations doesn't mean that their children were Air Nomads," an acolyte named Qiao said. She was one of the most apt and studious of Aang's Air Acolytes, and they had spent many hours together pouring over the newly discovered texts. Sometimes, Aang thought that she had a better grasp of Air Nomad culture than even he did.

"I suppose....I suppose that's true," Aang said thoughtfully, taking a sip of his tea.

"The Air Nomads were mostly not monogamous," Qiao pointed out. "I'm sure there were a lot of Nomads who had understandings with their lovers from other nations. Especially among the Air Acolytes of the day."

Aang pondered that for the rest of the day. Then the next. Then the rest of the week before he finally approached Katara. He found her by the fountain with Kya and Bumi. Kya was busy making imperfect little shapes with the water while Katara was teaching Bumi how to put his hair into a warrior's wolf tail.

"You look just like your uncle Sokka," she laughed, pressing a kiss on her son's cheek. "I bet you'll be a great warrior just like him, too." That twisted Aang's gut uncomfortably. He cleared his throat to get Katara's attention.

"Hey, sweetie," he said.

"Hey," Katara smiled at him. "We're just about to have story time. Do you want to stick around for How Umiak Rowed Her Boat to the Stars?"

"Oh, um..."Aang shifted uncomfortably on his feet. "Sure. I was just...thinking of something."

"Yeah?" Katara raised her brow at him. "What?"

"I was just thinking of how all the Air Nomads were benders." Katara didn't bother trying to hide her disgusted snort or the rolling of her eyes.

"Okay, and?" she huffed. "Did you draw any new conclusions?"

"I can't have been the only Air Nomad to have children with someone from a different culture," he said. Katara stared at him blankly for a long moment.

"I told you that," she responded finally. "It's just now sinking in?'

"No, I understood you," Aang told her. He kicked at the ground. There was a loose pebble under his toe and he focused on rolling it back and forth. "It's just...well, the Air Nomads, they weren't strictly monogamous."

"Monogamous," Katara scoffed. "That's a big word for you." Aang bristled a bit at that, but he took a breath and let it go.

"I was just reading," Aang said with a shrug. "It occurred to me that maybe because the Air Nomads weren't monogamous, they just didn't bring their non-bending kids into the Air Nomad society." Katara looked up at Aang with her eyes wide.

"That's awful!" she said. "So because their kids didn't bend the right elements, they had to be cut off from one of their parents?"

"No, I'm sure it wasn't as bad as all that-" Aang started to protest.

"What exactly are you saying, Aang?" There was a dangerous edge to Katara's voice. A warning.

"Nothing, nothing!" he scrambled back, tripping over his tongue, trying to call back his words, and cursing himself for trying to bring up the subject without a plan. Katara eyed him coldly. She was angry and trying not to show it.

"It's time for lunch," she told her children. "Let's go inside and fix something to eat."

"But Mommy," Bumi protested. "I want to hear about Umiak!" Katara turned to him with a tight smile.

"That's okay, sweetie," she said. "I'll tell you while you help me fix lunch." With one last scowl at Aang, she took Bumi's hand and swung Kya up onto her hip and went inside.

-:-:-:-:-:-

Aang felt vindicated when it was discovered that he and Qiao were right. The Air Nomads would often leave non-airbending children with their non-Nomad parents. Sometimes the Air Nomad parent would stay with their non-Nomad partners and build a life with them and their children (something he made a note to tell Katara about). Then it was discovered that they were only partially right.

Some of the Air Nomads stayed and raised mixed heritage families. Some left their non-airbending children behind with their non-Nomad partners. That was expected. Reasonable, even. What Aang was not expecting, however, were the accounts of non-airbending children being given away. Some were adopted, and those adoptions were traceable through documents and letters. Others were sold. Those transactions were traceable, too. By most accounts, those children went into indentured servitude and many of them learned trades and were able to start businesses once their indenture was up. Aang tried to focus on the positives. Katara, however, was horrified.

"What right did they have to sell those children into...into slavery?" she demanded hotly while they were getting ready for bed.

"I'm sure it wasn't that bad," Aang insisted. "After all, the Air Nomads wouldn't have put children into situations where they could've been hurt."

"Yes," Katara sneered. "I'm sure their new owners were very gentle with their exploitation."

"That isn't fair!" Aang protested. "Do you know how difficult it would've been for those kids to live among the Nomads?"

"Probably about as easy as it's been for our kids." Katara glared at Aang meaningly. He felt his cheeks heat as he looked away, pretending not to understand.

Bumi was going on eight now, and Kya was five. They were both old enough to ask questions about why it was so difficult for them to move around their own home. Katara and the Acolytes had an easier time being adults and able to maneuver obstacles that short legs and small hands couldn't without help, but it was still a regular challenge to get around the Air Temple for them. Aang was in the process of building a complex near Republic City where non-airbending Acolytes could live and learn with more ease, but it wouldn't be ready for anyone to move into for another year or so. It would be safer for children with no airbending ability, too. Aang glanced over at Katara from the corner of his eye, at the soft swell of her stomach, already showing signs of pregnancy at her second month.

-:-:-:-:-:-

Tenzin was the last of Aang's children with Katara, and the only airbender. When he was almost one, he airbent for the first time, and Aang couldn't stop celebrating for an entire week. When Tenzin was two, the first of the burial mounds were discovered.

Archaeologists working at the mostly restored Northern Air Temple found it at the base of the mountain. There were several layers to the grave, suggesting generations' worth of use. Most of the bones were small. Infant and toddler sized. The largest bones were about the size of an average eight year old. The bones were all jumbled together, as if they had been tossed in a heap. Some of them wore the clothes they were buried in, but most of the bones were too broken to hang on to any frabric. There were also no signs of any shrouds or anything indicating that they had been given any of the customary funeral rites of the Air Nomads. The fact that they were found at the base of the mountain in itself was unusual. All the different groups of Air Nomads had their own unique funeral customs, but one thing that remained the same was that they were laid to rest as close to the sky as possible.

When the first reports of how the children came to be at the base of the mountain came out, Aang was certain it was the rankest propaganda. None of the Air Nomads, no matter how stringent they were about non-airbenders living among them, would ever harm a child. For a while, he seemed to be right, as all the proof was from secondary and tertiary sources.

"Lies the Fire Nation used to justify genocide," Aang said confidently.

"But how did the children get there?" Katara asked. Aang had no answer for her. Yet. There must have been a good one, though. Maybe a plague had run through the Air Temple, forcing them to bury the bodies at the bottom of the mountain to prevent contamination, or something equally tragic. Aang began talking to the archaeologists about giving the bones a proper burial as soon as they could be sorted. The count at that time was 700 bodies in the pile and there were still so many more to go.

A few months after that, the oldest of the Air Nomad accounts were uncovered. It went back a good 300 years, and it spoke about a surplus of infants born without the gift of airbending. There were too many to be disposed of the normal ways, and many of the non-bending parents were unwilling or unable to raise the children themselves. The anonymous monk wrote of a meeting to discuss the crisis. They wouldn't be able to care for so many that couldn't get around the temple, or travel with the Nomads. There was a food shortage. A water shortage. An everything shortage. So the head monk suggested giving the children to the air. That had been the first time the practice had been recorded, near as anyone could tell. But some of the bones were older than that.

That's what they called it. It sounded lovely. Poetic even. In practice, though, the babies were carried to the edge of the temple grounds and held in the air. A short prayer was said for the souls of the children, and then they just...let go. They were so high up, they probably couldn't hear the children hit the ground.

The public began to call them the Fog Children. They were babies born to Air Nomad parents, but without airbending abilities themselves. People clung to the term and it soon spread all over the world in hushed whispers. Aang hated it. Katara hated it. It was the only thing they could agree on by that time.

"It isn't fair!" Aang bemoaned. "It's like people are using it to justify the Fire Nation killing all the Air Nomads."

"If it bothers you so much," Katara said after she'd put the kids to bed, "then speak up! Condemn what they did."

"I do!" Aang insisted. He had protested, loudly that all of the Air Nomads shouldn't be judged by what one fringe sect did.

"Not just them," Katara said. "All of it. It's just like with the Fire Nation. Remember what Zuko said? You can't expect to move forward without acknowledging the past. All of it was wrong. The Air Nomads treated their non-bending children as if they had no value. Condemn the adoptions and abandonings and the selling of the children!"

"How is it my responsibility to make up for all of that?" Aang demanded.

"You're the only one left," Katara reminded him, trying to be gentle. "I'm not saying you have to call the Air Nomads monsters. They did something wrong. They were human. You can acknowledge that and commit to being better than that."

"How?"

"Start with your children."

It had been a frequent argument between Katara and Aang how Aang treated their children. Bumi was 13 now, well on his way to becoming a man. Kya was 11 and Tenzin was five. Often, Katara would quiz Aang on his children- what Kya's favorite color was, or the name of Bumi's best friend. Aang could admit that he was correct about Tenzin more often than the others, but it was only because Aang had so much he had to teach his youngest. Katara should've understood that. After all, there were things she did with Kya that she couldn't do with Bumi or Tenzin.

"It's not the same," Katara told him. Aang could never remember why, though.

For the next year or so, Aang spent much of his time doing damage control. He did his best to separate the practices at the Northern Air Temple and the particular sect of Air Nomad culture that grew around it from the rest of the Air Nomads. Every criticism of the culture was met sharply by Aang's rebuttals and justifications. Penning article after article espousing the virtues of the Air Nomads at large became his full time job, and obsession. It took him two weeks to notice that Katara had left with all three of his children, and another month for him to find the letter Katara had left in his bedside table telling him she was seeking a divorce.

He got Tenzin three months of the year. It was all he could manage, being completely unused to parenting alone. Aang taught his son what he could of airbending and the Nomad philosophy he could in that time, and did his best to ignore the people whispering fog children in the same breath as his oldest children.

#HAPPY NEW YEAR #atla #anti kataang #anti aang #air nomad critical #air nomad lore #a lil' sprinkle of aang salt to kick 2025 off #poor kya and bumi #although since it's canon that they aren't known to be aang's kids in lok the whispering probably stopped pretty soon #especially after their mother remarried and they became known for their connection with their stepfather #zutara #a lil' sneaky sneak zutara in the tags #fan fic

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waayoutofline · 1 day ago

Text

4 times you surprised Abby + Bonus

Pairing: Abby Anderson x F!Reader

Prompts: Fluff with a sprinkle of hurt/comfort, past toxic relationships, Cook! Reader, vulnerable Abby.

Summary: Four times you surprise Abby in your relationship.

WC: 2,8K

Warnings: None.

Abby hasn’t had a long dating history, which isn’t surprising in a world as broken as theirs. Survival didn’t leave much room for things like love. She’s had her flings, moments of stolen intimacy, but they never lasted. People came and went, and she’d learned to accept it. Relationships, if they even could be called that, weren’t always kind or healthy—but they were what they were. What she was used to.

So when you and Abby finally started dating—after months of stolen glances, shy smiles, and a tension that buzzed between you like an incoming storm—she couldn’t help but be surprised. What was it about you that made her hope for something more?

1. Talking About Her to Your Friends

Abby didn’t mean to eavesdrop, really. She was on her way to the gym when she remembered she’d left her bag in your room. She knew you were with your friends, so she decided to sneak in quietly.

But as she approached the door, she heard her name.

“So, how’s life with your lover girl?” one of your friends teased, and Abby froze.

Her pulse quickened, a mixture of curiosity and anxiety rooting her in place. She shouldn’t listen, but she couldn’t stop herself. She braced for your answer, her heart sinking as she prepared to hear the usual: She’s strong. She’s built. She’s hot. A bit stubborn. Overwhelming at times.

And sure, she was those things. Her body was a testament to her survival, her strength, and her discipline . She worked for it and was proud of it. But deep down, she longed to be seen as more than that. And her character was strong and she has been told about how troublesome it could be alongside her dry humor and sarcasm.

“Well…” Your voice was hesitant, shy. She could almost picture the way your cheeks would flush. “Gosh, she’s amazing. She’s so intelligent and kind—she talks about literature in a way that astonishes me every time.”

Abby’s breath caught in her throat.

“She’s gentle, in this really soft way. You should see her with dogs. It makes me want to get her one.”

Her chest tightened, warmth blooming in a place she hadn’t let anyone touch in years.

“Don’t forget attractive,” one of your friends chimed in, grinning.

You laughed, your voice flustered. “Well, of course. She’s gorgeous.”

“Look at you, all smitten,” someone teased, and your laugh grew quieter, softer, as if you didn’t mind being called out.

Abby’s heart was pounding now, but it wasn’t from nerves. She felt her legs move before she realized it, retreating back down the hall with her bag in hand, her cheeks hot, her lips curling into a smile she couldn’t fight.

Manny didn’t let her hear the end of it when he caught her grinning like a lovestruck fool all day.

2. Meeting the Family

Holiday time was around the corner. Usually, it didnt really mean much for everyone, but for the sake of trying to live in this forsaken world, some did their best to try and regain some normalcy.

Even Isaac, workaholic and not really an empathetic, allowed some of the recruits and workers to go out of their shifts earlier to spend some time with their remaining families.

It could be great. If you actually had one.

Abby usually just stayed at the gym, pushing herself. The burn of her muscles being preferable at the though of how alone she really was.

But she really wasnt anymore. No, you were with her now.

One night, out of nowhere, you asked her to have dinner with you and your mom. Abby blinked, caught off guard.

“What?” she asked, towel in hand as she dried her hair.

“My mom and I usually do something this time of year. I think she’s tired of me rambling about you and wants to officially meet you,” you said, your tone light and teasing, as if it wasn’t a big deal.

But it was a big deal. No one had ever invited her to meet their family before. No one had ever seen her as someone worth bringing home. Too conscious of her own lack of family.

“No pressure,” you added quickly, though your eyes softened in that way that made her heart ache. “If you don’t want to, it’s okay. But I think she’d really like you.”

“I… I’d like that too,” Abby said at last, her voice almost too quiet to hear. “What should I bring?”

You smiled, stepping closer and gently tugging the towel from her hands to help dry her hair. “Just you, beautiful.”

Abby let out a shaky laugh at your cheeky grin, rolling her eyes to hide the way her cheeks blushed. “Flatterer.”

Dinner was warm in a way Abby hadn’t experienced in years. Your mom fussed over her like she’d known Abby forever, asking about her favorite foods and piling extra servings onto her plate.

It was strange and wonderful—this sense of care. Abby couldn’t remember the last time someone had made her feel this… domestic. Cared for. Hers died at a young age after all, she didn’t remember any kind of motherly care.

And when your mom pulled out the box of polaroids, Abby couldn’t stop laughing. Even as you protested in the background, trying to snatch the photos away, she soaked in every story your mom told—every glimpse of you as a child, every memory that shaped the person she was falling for more deeply than she thought possible.

3) The little things

Abby has always been independent. She prided herself on it—her ability to handle things, resolve problems, and shoulder her burdens without leaning on anyone. It wasn’t always easy, and yes, sometimes it felt lonely. But that loneliness was a price she was willing to pay. Dependence, to her, was a weakness, and she had no room for that.

But then you came along. And somehow, without even trying, you chipped away at her walls.

It wasn’t dramatic. It wasn’t about grand gestures, no flashy declarations. It was the little things—the quiet moments and unnoticed details—that left her feeling undone.

Like the time you took her gym towels, washed them, and neatly packed them back into her bag. She’d blinked in surprise, holding them in her hands, wondering how you’d known she’d forgotten. You hadn’t even mentioned it, just smiled when she realized.

Or the way, after a grueling patrol, she’d find a sticky note on her makeshift fridge. Your familiar handwriting scrawled something simple—a heart, her name, a quiet reminder to eat. Beside it, there was always a container of her favorite dish. She’d sit there and eat it, alone but feeling more cared for than she ever had before.

Then there were her hair ties. She’d spent half a morning cursing under her breath, looking for the ones that always seemed to vanish. When you finally spoke up, you’d said, “I put them in the little box on your nightstand so you don’t keep loosing them.”

And at times, when she didn’t really have it in her to face the morning, you gently encouraged her to push forward. You’d quietly ask if you could braid her hair. Abby usually was adamant from letting anyone touch it, but there was something about the way your delicate hands moved through her hair that left her in a trance.

Your fingers worked carefully, threading through her scalp with a tenderness that eased the weight she carried. She found herself humming softly as you worked, the tension in her shoulders melting away with each gentle stroke.

It was so small, so simple, but she’d stared at you for a moment, the words catching in her throat.

It amazed her how you always seemed to notice the things she needed before she did. You didn’t make a show of it, didn’t ask for thanks or praise. Taking care of her came as naturally to you as breathing.

Afterward, life seems all that brighter. Easier to breath, knowing that she could count on you.

4) Getting her vulnerability

The anniversary of her dad’s death was closing in like a shadow. Abby felt it in the air, in her nightmares, in the way her body refused to let her rest.

Night after night, she woke up shaking, clutching at her chest, and every time, you were there—soft whispers, steady hands, holding her like she wasn’t coming apart at the seams.

But she hated herself for it. Hated waking you, hated seeing the concern in your eyes, hated the thought of you realizing just how much of a mess she really was. People had left for less.

And maybe you would, too.

Many people, both lovers and friends, had been uncomfortable with the ghosts of her past—her dad, her losses, the weight she carried. They either tiptoed around it or distanced themselves when it became too much. She didn’t exactly blame them.

But you faced it with her. You didn’t try to fix her or tell her to “move on.” You just stayed, listened, and made her feel like she wasn’t broken.

You stood by her, with no pressure, no expectation, no need to “make her better.”

“You don’t always have to be the strong one,” you told her one night, after she tried so hard to stop her body from shaking after one particularly harsh dream.

It was something no one had ever said to her before, and it stuck with her. It gave her the strength to turn around and look at you while tears started down her cheeks, the darkness not managing to conceal them entirely. But it was alright.

You were there.

“Was it about your dad?” you whispered, not pushing but encouraging. Silence filled the space the question left.

“No.” She finally answered, her voice unsteady in a way that she loathed. “We…we were on a patrol, and when I came back everything was destroyed. Burned to the ground. And you were….” Her words stuck, her lower lip trembling ever so slightly. “You were gone. You were…g-god, you were—“

Almost immediately, you hugged her, cradling her head to your chest. You were soft and warm, the steady beating of your heart thumping under her ear. It was almost scary, how comfortable it was.

“I’m right here,” you murmured softly, your hand gently running through her hair. “Hear my heart. Focus on my breaths. We’re together, Abby. We’re okay.”

The words settled over her like a balm, though the ache in her chest didn’t fully ease. The images from her nightmare still lingered—haunting, visceral, unshakable. But your presence, your warmth, gave her something solid to cling to. A light in the darkness.

“I hate it,” she finally whispered, voice raw. “I hate that I can’t protect everyone. That everyone seems to just…go eventually. And that I can’t do anything about it.”

You pulled back just enough to meet her gaze, your eyes soft as you wiped away her tears. Your touch was gentle, your expression firm but kind.

“Abby, you don’t have to carry the world on your shoulders.”

She shook her head, her brow furrowing in frustration. “But what if I lose you? What if I can’t stop it?”

“You won’t lose me,” you said firmly, your hands cupping her face. “And even if the worst happens, it’s not because you failed. It’s because the world is cruel sometimes. But no matter what, I need you to know that you’re not alone in this.”

Her lips quivered, another tear slipping down her cheek, but she didn’t look away. For once, she let herself be seen—completely, raw and exposed.

“You don’t have to be strong all the time, Abs.” You patiently reminded. “It’s okay to let someone else carry the weight sometimes.”

You continued, your voice steady. “You have me.”

Abby let out a shuddering breath, and for the first time in what felt like forever, she allowed herself to truly let go. She melted into your embrace, burying her face in your neck as the last of her resistance crumbled.

You stayed like that, holding her through the quiet sobs, through the silence that followed. When she finally spoke again, her voice was soft, almost a whisper.

“Thank you,” she said. “For staying.”

You pressed a kiss to her temple, your hand still running soothingly through her hair. “Always,” you replied. “I’ll always stay, Abby.”

BONUS

+) Not minding her overprotective nature

Everyone knows Abby is a deeply loyal person. She wants her loved ones to be safe more than anything, and she is willing to do anything for them. That usually manifested as her being slightly overprotective at times.

With you, it happened more often than not. She would step in at the slightest sign of you having any issue. Usually, she did it through small gestures that were partly unconscious to her. Like knowing your schedule by heart and accompanying you to your room late at night with a secure hand on your lower back. Happily listening to your rambling while still keeping an eye out.

Watching over you in every room came naturally to her.

She was particularly tense when you, as the executive chef, asked for permission to assist in a supply run and gather some materials. Abby always insisted that you only go when she was available. She didn’t trust anyone else to take care of you like she did.

The most dramatic displays of her protectiveness came when you were confronted by recruits making greedy demands.

“Back off,” she practically growled, appearing behind you like a shadow. The person usually stammered, probably not conscious of who your girlfriend was until her imposing frame stood threateningly in front of them.

Afterward, she turned to you, all the aggression melting away as she gave you soft eyes. “You good?”

You couldn’t help but chuckle. “Yeah, I’m good.”

And you meant it—being with Abby made you feel safe in a way you never had before.

You weren’t exactly “on the frontlines” material. You arrived at the WLF when you were pretty young, and after going through everything, even the sight of a gun left you uneasy. So when Isaac saw your cooking abilities, he allowed you to stay at the base under the title of side-line cook. You eventually rose through the ranks, and that was that.

You preferred dealing with narcissistic soldiers over facing those vicious creatures. In a way, you grew accustomed to being pushed around, even though you knew how to defend yourself. But that all changed when you met Abby.

Standing at 5’9 and with a build that seemed crafted by the gods themselves, it was safe to say people left you alone after associating with her. So, even if you knew how to stand your ground, you enjoyed being protected by her.

You didn’t mind when she walked ahead of you during runs, her broad shoulders shielding you from any threat that could come your way. When she insisted on carrying the heavier bag or checking your gun a couple of times before leaving—just in case.

Not even when she glared at anyone who looked at you for more than five seconds in a way she deemed unacceptable.

You didn’t mind any of it because you knew it came from a strong sense of caring. That’s who she was. She cared deeply.

So, whenever she hovered near as you collected some herbs just a little outside the perimeter of the stadium (an area kept clear of infected), her eyes following your every move, you didn’t roll your eyes or brush her off. Instead, you smiled softly, glancing up at her as she leaned against a tree, arms crossed.

“You don’t have to watch me like a hawk, you know,” you teased lightly. “This is a pretty safe zone.”

She shrugged. “Doesn’t mean I’m not gonna keep an eye out.”

Setting the basket down, you stood and moved next to her, gently nudging her to sit. She understood your intentions—she always did—and with her back against the trunk of the tree, she made space for you to settle between her legs, resting against her.

“I know,” you said, leaning into her warmth. “And I appreciate it.”

Abby’s expression softened, the tension in her shoulders easing slightly. “You don’t think I’m… too much?”

“Not at all,” you said, glancing back at her and managing to place a soft kiss on the side of her jaw. “You make me feel safe. That’s never too much.”

She didn’t say anything, just looked at you with that quiet, steady gaze that always made you feel like you were the center of her world.

And when she reached out to embrace you, resting her head in the crook of your neck, her touch so gentle, you knew you wouldn’t trade her protectiveness for anything.

#fanfic #abby anderson x reader #tlou #canon universe #abby the last of us #abby x reader #abby anderson #one shot #fluff #hurt/comfort #established relationship #reader insert

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elizabethminkel · 1 day ago

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hi i read your article on fanfiction culture changing and it reminded me of a comment i got on a fic in 2023. (i was going to say this year/recently but then i checked and wow time moves fast) it was phrased like i wasn't ever going to see it. which is weird bc there were only 2 other comments both of which i'd responded to. it was written almost to an audience that did not include me. idk what that says about the "culture" but i enjoyed your article!

Aw <3 thank you so much! (If anyone hasn't read it yet, this is in reference to "The Endless Appetite for Fanfiction.")

That's super interesting, and definitely relates to this broader ~thing~ imo. My first thought is about the (significant?) rise in people putting fic reviews on Goodreads. That's definitely part of the overall context collapse—and deeply annoys me!!—but it does make me think about the concrit conversation, and how fandom post-LJ has largely shut down critical discussion of fic, which was not a rarity back in the day. (I'm not opening that can of worms now lol.) Like, I have sympathy for the Discord fic book clubs, because you should be allowed to say whatever you want about a fic in private! But I feel like that needs to be just one component, especially if you have a lot of positive things to say about a work.

Funnily, I got a comment somewhat recently that felt, at least in one bit, like it was addressed more to the world than to me. It was a really nice comment! But I showed it to a friend in my confusion (and then just replied like it hadn't struck me as odd). I've also received comments in the last few years on older stories in which the commenter acts like I've long departed from my fandom—when I've published new works as recently as a few weeks prior, and post on my (linked from my AO3 profile) tumblr daily. Which seems related, too—like, me, the fan, is still right there, very easy to see?

I do think there's something to be said about depersonalization across social media, and the way people collapse "content creators" with their "content" (to be clear, I'm not calling fic writers or fic either of these things, but part of this whole situation is that a lot of readers are thinking of them that way). Like, the creator economy is structured to encourage people do that, even. And of course there's great commentary here on tumblr dot com and elsewhere about how people talk to strangers in ways they'd never dare to in real life. I mean, the digital disconnect led to plenty of...issues...back in the day, even when fandom and fanfic weren't as bifurcated as right now.

Anyway, I think this is all swirling together...and like, it's not great! (Haha this is like how I ended the article. "This sucks! ¯\_(ツ)_/¯") But thanks again for your message—this topic has so many interesting, if depressing, facets!!

#fandom #fansplaining #fanfiction #social media #asks #revoltinglesbians

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dwobbitfromtheshire · 3 days ago

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When Steve invited Nancy, Jonathan, Argyle, Robin, Vickie, Eddie, and Chrissy over for New Years, he really didn't think it through. They were all coupled together, and Steve wasn't. Even Argyle brought his current lover to the party. Steve had quickly disappeared into the kitchen and cursed.

"You're so fucking stupid, Steve," he told himself.

Sure, he was happy by himself, but he also liked romance. . .he liked being with people, especially with people he cared about. The dating game had been depressing for him since spring break. The minute he took off his shirt, suddenly, they needed to leave. He even thought he got lucky once when he almost hooked up with a guy. Steve had taken off his shirt, and the guy looked at his scars, softly said "ew" before making an excuse to leave. It had been quite hurtful, so Steve just decided to stop trying, and he hated it because while he was happy that he had his friends, his family, he was also lonely. He loved spending time with Eddie and Chrissy, too, but they just reminded him that he didn't have a partner. Steve couldn't decide which one of them he was jealous of.

"Hey, big boy," he heard Eddie's voice.

Steve turned around to find Eddie and Chrissy standing in the doorway of the kitchen.

"Are you alright, Steve?" Chrissy asked.

"Uh, yeah. . .I just really didn't think this through," Steve said. "I don't have anyone to kiss at midnight."

"Well, hell, I'll kiss you," Eddie said, waving his hand at him.

"What about Chrissy? She won't have someone to kiss," Steve said.

"Shit, yeah, that's true," Eddie frowned.

"We'll both kiss you!" Chrissy exclaimed rather cheerfully.

"How?!" Steve and Eddie asked.

"Well, Eddie will take one corner of your mouth, and I'll take the other," Chrissy said.

"It could work," Steve said thoughtfully and then tried to make a joke. "Yeah, okay, but don't go falling in love with me. . ."

Eddie and Chrissy shared looks of amusement before looking back at Steve.

"Too late," they said.

"What?" He asked.

"Oh, come on, I thought we were obvious," Eddie scoffed.

"We did keep inviting you out on our dates, and we kept asking you if you wanted a sleepover," Chrissy said. "And then you stopped hanging out with us for a while."

"Yeah, we assumed you weren't interested," Eddie shrugged.

"But I - I thought I was getting in between your relationship with Chrissy," Steve said.

"That's exactly what we wanted, sweetheart," Eddie said.

"But - I, uh, - both. . .at the same time? I never thought - ," Steve said, and he ran a hand through his hand. "I didn't know which one to choose, and I never thought I could choose both."

"There's nothing stopping you," Chrissy said as they moved closer to him.

They stood on either side of him, basically locking him in.

"My dating skills might be a little rusty," Steve blushed. "It's been pretty disastrous over the last few months. No one's really wanted to look at me, let alone touch me. One guy went literally went ew when he saw my scars."

"And you think Chrissy and I know what we're doing? I haven't dated anyone, and the last relationship Chrissy was in was arranged by her mother. We're all figuring things out," Eddie said, and then what Steve had said sunk in. "Wait. . .what guy said ew to you?"

"It doesn't matter," Steve said, blushing as Eddie wrapped a comforting around his shoulder.

"Give me a name, Steven," he said softly. "I'm just going to talk to the guy."

"Yeah, but I feel like you're not going to use your words," Steve said frowning.

"You can't kill him, Eddie," Chrissy giggled.

"And why can't I?" He asked.

"Because you just got off the murder charges over spring break, I don't want you to go to jail," Chrissy said.

"Oh, so, when I want to kill a guy, I have to stand down, but when I tell you not to kill a guy, I'm supposed to just let you pout about it for a month," Eddie said and waved his hand at her. "Ah, double standard."

Eddie flashed his dimples at Chrissy as she laughed.

"Who did you want to kill?" Steve asked.

"Andy," Chrissy said.

She started playing with the buttons on Steve’s collar. He had his button-up done all the way up to hide the scars around his throat.

"You should have just let her kill him," Steve said.

"Yeah, well, I think it's a possibility. I think she might be scheming with Nancy," Eddie said.

"I am," Chrissy said with a giggled.

All of her focus was now on Steve’s shirt. She was popping it open one by one, and Steve didn't stop her from going all the way down. . .curious at what they would say. Finally, Chrissy had it opened, exposing his torso and his scars. Her fingers trailed down from the scar around his throat to the scars on his lower abdomen.

"You're beautiful inside and out, Steve," Eddie breathed, tucking a hair behind his ear. "I think you forget that I have scars too."

He grabbed Steve’s hand and brought it underneath his shirt, letting Steve feel it. Chrissy brought her lips to Steve’s throat, kissing his scars gently. Eddie did the same, burying his head into Steve’s neck. Steve’s eyes fluttered, and he moaned as Eddie's hand went to the scars on his stomach. . .right above the belt. God, it felt like he was being devoured. . .in a good way, though.

"Shouldn't we save the kissing for midnight?" Steve gasped as Chrissy nibbled at his skin.

"That's only for the lips," Eddie whispered. "Doesn't mean we can't kiss you anywhere else. . .big boy."

"Hey!" They heard Robin yell. "You're going to miss the ball dropping!"

Steve hurried to button his shirt up and tuck it back into his pants as he rushed back into the living room after the others.

"You missed a button," Robin said in amusement and then grinned. "Slut."

"Definitely," Steve laughed.

"Chrissy's lipstick is all over your neck," Robin said and then looked over at Eddie. "And if Eddie was wearing lipstick?"

"It would be there, too," Steve blushed.

"Happy for you, dingus," Robin said.

"You're about the miss the ball dropping, Robin," he said.

"Oh, right!"

3. . .2. . .1!

Eddie and Chrissy kissed Steve on the corners of his mouth just like they said they would. It was so soft. . .so gentle. . .so perfect.

"Happy New Year," Eddie and Chrissy said, taking his hands in theirs.

"Happy New Year," Steve whispered, a smile on his face and a twinkle in his eyes.

He had been happy before, but he was happier now, and maybe it had something to do with being wanted twice. . .not just for his body, but for who he is. Yeah, a Happy New Year, indeed.

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misshuntereevee · 2 days ago

Note

This had been in my draft since forever. I'm gonna put it here, if you have a better idea of how to write this story, please go ahead! If not, feel free to toss it.

Zayne x mc. His pov when he had to move away and study to become a doctor and finally seeing mc again when he becomes her primary physician. Bc i feel like he had a crush on her when they were kids. And in the story mc said she finally meets her childhood friend after she met her primary physician or something like that

Thank you in advance! <3

₊˚｡ ❆ ⋆⁺₊❅. & isn't it just so pretty to think; all along there was some invisible string tying you to me? i fucking love this prompt thank you! ♥ i hope this is okay, i did make it a continuation of that one zayne memory where he gives her an ice seal.

prompts open.

The second he saw you again, he knew he couldn't lie to himself any longer. Time, he had figured, would ease his crush on you. His attraction to his childhood friend.

But the second you stand in front of him with that adorable smile, a little tooth poking out, he knew he was screwed. You were not textbook. In fact, you were everything but textbook. And that's what Zayne was used to. Zayne liked order. Zayne liked playing by the rules. Because the rules are there to protect you...right?

But it's addictive. Even if he'd tried to imagine how you'd look now, he'd never come close to the perfection you are now to him. How you laugh, how your nose and eyes crinkle when you do. And the color of your eyes. He's sure a million artists could try, and never replicate the exact shade of your hue. Lips so kissable... So when you join him at lunch because he's the only one with room at his table -- he's too shocked to say much. You're here. Not only are you here, but you remember him!

You're giggling as you recount the story of him giving you a snowball at you at the seal exhibit. Back then, you thought he'd been teasing you by making a sculpture of the snowball the seals had just thrown at you. He'd made it out of his Evol and you still have it.

He doesn't widen his eyes or respond physically, but he's not sure whether to laugh or cry at the fact you didn't realize it was supposed to be a seal. It was supposed to be cute and impress you. But you thought it was a snowball! And thought he was making fun of you!

Finally, he closes his eyes, shaking his head with a laugh. You finish the rest of your meal together, and you aren't sure why he keeps giving you a look that is on the verge of smile -- but holds back. When the meal is finally over, he offers to walk you to the cab.

Outside, he's mesmerized by you. Suddenly embolden, he realizes he can't let you think he was making fun of you any longer. He needs to show you what it was supposed to be.

"Can I show you something? Stick your hand out."

You furrow a brow at him, but you trust him. You stick your hand out, palm up. He places his hands over it in a dome...and then you feel it. Icy tendrils on your palm. But besides being cool to the touch, they don't hurt. That's intentional.

When he pulls his hand back, an ice seal sits in the palm of your hand and you beam at it. "Something to put next to the snowball you gave me? That's so sweet!"

He mutters something, but you don't quite hear him. You lean in closer, a hand resting on his forearm casually. (Casually to you, but his heart is racing in his chest. He's a cardiologist and even he's concerned about the effect you have on his heart.)

"What was that?" You ask him, leaning in.

He's going to have a heart attack. With a exhale, he repeats it: "You can throw the last one away. It's..."

He pauses, his eyes closing. "Just... this one is better."

And as he walks away, leaving you at your cab, you smile down at it -- and then realize. It's better... because it's what it's supposed to be this time. Your mouth is almost on the floor. He was trying to make something cute all those years ago...

But as you continue to grin down at the new seal, you know you're never throwing out the first one, even if he probably wants you too. No, because you have a feeling... something started right now.

And as he heads home, he also thinks about how happy he is to have a reason to see you again, even if it was just to correct that past mistake.. he should have never given her that snowball-looking seal. But looking out the window, he realizes... maybe the snowball made sure you didn't forget him.

Maybe he's grateful for the ugly thing.

#doctor zayne #zayne x reader #lads fanfiction #lads fanfic #dr zayne #l&ds zayne #lads zayne #lnds zayne #love and deep space zayne #zayne and mc #zayne fluff #zayne love and deepspace #zayne imagines #zayne x mc #zayne

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uhhlifeig · 2 days ago

Text

First Love - Jan. 1st - word count: 300 - @wolfstarmicrofic

Remus sighed, propping his legs up on his desk in his office. Teaching Defense was a wonderful job, but he was always tired after every class.

He closed his eyes, hoping to catch a nap during his free period, but the moment he did, he saw him.

Sirius Orion Black.

Sirius didn’t appear as how he did in his mugshot; he appeared as how Remus remembered him from all those years ago, young and beautiful and happy.

“Hey,” fake Sirius said, smiling. “How are you, Moony?”

“You know how it is,” Remus muttered. “After all, you go through the days with me.”

“Yeah, well,” Sirius said, sitting down on Remus’s desk. “How’re you holding up, Moons?”

“I- not well, to be honest. Real you has escaped, and I dunno what to think anymore, Pads,” Remus sighed. “I want to believe that real you is innocent, but he’s a killer, for Merlin’s sake. I just want to be held again, Pads,” he sniffled.

“Oh, Moony,” Sirius sighed, reaching out, as if to touch Remus. He pulled his hand away at the last second. “I’m sorry. It’ll get better.”

“Will it, though?” Remus cried. “Sirius, you were my first- and only- love. I think I still love you, but-” he cut off, hiccuping. “How can I do that when you killed Prongs and Lily and Wormtail?”

“It’s alright, Remus,” Sirius soothed. “You’ll work it out. I promise. Even if you don’t, I’ll always be here for you.”

“But I don’t want this version of you!” Remus sobbed. “I want the real you, but he’s never coming back to me because he’s evil! It’s been twelve years, Pads, but I still love him. Why?”

“Remus,” Sirius said sadly, getting up. “I can’t help you. I’m only your imagination, after all.”

And he vanished.

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morgana-larkin · 2 days ago

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Alright my fellow horny tumblr peeps, here's some smut to start the new year with part 2 of Mommy dearest! So here it is and it's incredibly fluffy and smutty. Not edited in the slightest and I hope you like it!

On another note: I keep getting an error message when trying to update my Lisa masterlist so imma split up Melissa and Chessy fics instead of putting them together.

Part 1

Mommy Dearest - Part 2

Warnings: Teasing, Smut, mommy kink

Words: 5.55k

You and Melissa are sitting on the couch and she pulls you in for another kiss. She pulls back when you both hear a groan and you look beside you to see Becca there covering her eyes.

“Ever since you two got together last week, you do nothing but kiss.” Becca complains.

“And what exactly do you do when you go see your boyfriend, play pretend?” Melissa asks her daughter.

“I’m not kissing my daughter’s best friend in front of said daughter.” She says and Melissa smiles at her daughter’s reaction.

“Said daughter doesn’t have to stay at the house or in the room.” Melissa tells her.

“You invited me to stay for movie night, the movie is still playing.” She says and points to the tv that was indeed playing a movie.

“I forgot that there was a movie playing.” You say and Melissa smirks.

“So did I.” She says and you pull her in for another kiss.

“I’m out.” Becca says as she gets up and grabs her bag. “I’m gonna go have sex with my boyfriend.” Becca tells you and Melissa quirks an eyebrow at her.

“Careful, I’m still your mother and definitely know guys who can kill him without a trace.” Melissa tells her and then Becca huffs before leaving. “I sometimes forget how much like me she is.” Melissa tells you before she pulls you in for a kiss. She gets you to lay on your back, on the couch while she gets on top and she continues making out with you. She pulls back when you start moaning and you whimper. “I would love to go further but I want to take you out on a date first.” She tells you and you huff.

“You’ve had all week to do that.” You say and she moves the strands on your face out of the way. “You didn’t do that and now I want to go further with you.” You tell her and pull her in for a kiss. She pulls back after a few seconds and you groan.

“I’m still going to take you out on a date first, tomorrow night.”

“We’ve known each other for 4 years.” You complain and she giggles.

“Yes but I want to know you more personally.” She says and she boops your nose.

“You know you can know me more personally if we have sex.”

“Nice try.” She says and she sits up. You sit up as well and she wraps an arm around you and she pulls you close to her. You push her backwards and you end up getting her on her back and you go to kiss her neck and Melissa giggles. “How horny are you?” She asks and you look at her.

“I’ve never had sex because I keep thinking about you. I’ve been wanting to do this with you for 4 years.” You tell her and kiss her neck again.

“Well I promise we can do it after our date tomorrow.” She tells you and you reluctantly pull away.

“Pinky promise?” You ask her while holding out your pinky. She links her pinky with yours with a smile.

“Pinky promise.” She says. You then immediately go and kiss her neck and she laughs. “What did we just talk about?” She says and you pull back.

“You said no sex, you never said anything about teasing.” You tell her with a mischievous smile and then go back to kissing her neck.

“Oh you’re going to be the death of me.” Melissa says.

“I like kissing and teasing you.” You tell her and she smiles before pushing you back.

“If you keep teasing me then I’ll take you right here, but I’m trying to be respectful enough to my daughter’s best friend.” She tells you. “As well as you deserve someone who’s willing to take you out on a date first.” She adds and you pout.

“Why do you have to be so perfect?” You complain and she giggles.

“Just common courtesy to take a pretty girl out on a date before ravishing her until she can’t walk.” She says seductively and you feel your mouth dry and pussy extremely wet. “Did I leave the pretty girl speechless?” She asks with a slight tease to her voice.

“So you want to tease but make me wait?” You ask her and she nods.

“I mean you want to tease me as well.” She counters and you think about it.

“Ok, how about we see who folds first tomorrow night?” You tell her and she quirks an eyebrow at you.

“I think you’ve already folded.” She tells you.

“I said tomorrow night.” You tell her.

“Ok, I’m listening.”

“We go on a date but let’s tease each other to see who folds first.” You suggest and she smiles.

“I like this idea, ok, it’s on.” She says and you shake hands with her to seal the deal.

You spend the rest of the night cuddled up on the couch together before Melissa calls it a night and she goes to her bedroom. You decide to get ready for bed and then head to the basement to turn in for the night.

“Mom!” You hear as you’re having breakfast with Melissa the next morning.

“In here, honey.” Melissa says and then you see Becca walking in, looking a little flustered.

“Mom, Will’s mother is in town and wants to meet me tonight.” She tells Melissa.

“Well you two have been going out for a year so it’s not surprising.” Melissa tells her daughter.

“I’ve never met my partner’s mother before.” She says as she sits down in a seat beside Melissa.

“Just be yourself, honey.”

“Well you’re supposed to say that because you’re my mom.” Becca says and then looks at you.

“What are you looking at me for? Your mom is my first partner.” You tell her and then Melissa holds your hand while facing her daughter.

“Just be yourself and if she doesn’t like you then that’s her problem.” Melissa explains to her.

“What if she doesn’t like me and makes Will break up with me?” She asks.

“Jeez Bec, the only times you were this stressed was when we were studying for exams.” You tell her and she groans.

“If she doesn’t like you and Will breaks up with you because of her then that’s their loss not yours. But just be yourself and also see if you want to put up with that side of the family as well.” Melissa says and Becca nods.

“Ok, thanks.”

“Did you already have breakfast or do you want something to eat?” Melissa offers.

“I’ll go make myself breakfast.” Becca says and gets up.

“Do you not like my cooking anymore?” Melissa asks her daughter.

“You know I like your cooking but it’s just breakfast. I’ll always let you handle dinner.” Becca says.

“Oh speaking of dinner, Y/n and I are going out tonight so if you still have a boyfriend tonight then you might want to stay at his place.” Melissa tells her and Becca’s eyes widen.

“Do you have to keep traumatising me?!?!” Becca complains and then quickly goes into the kitchen.

“She’s taking this better than I thought?” You say and Melissa laughs before she continues eating.

*A few hours later*

“I can’t believe she won’t say where she’s taking you.” Becca says as she’s helping you pick out an outfit. “It would make this a whole lot easier.”

“You know what would also make this easier?” You say to her. “If you weren’t her daughter. That way you would help me dress up slutty but cute.”

“Dude, my mom already can’t keep her hands off of you. So even if you dress in a long shirt and sweatpants then she’ll still want to do you.” Becca says and you chuckle. “But if you want to dress a bit slutty, then how about that almost skin tight pink crop top that shows off your cleavage and those high waisted black shorts that stop just at your belly button? That outfit got you a ton of kisses at that party.” Becca tells you.

“Not a bad idea.” You tell her and go find it. You change into it as well as put on your best push up bra and then show her the outfit. “What do you think?” You tell her.

“Like you’re trying to get laid.” She says and you smile.

“It’s perfect then.” You say and then go to your makeup table.

“Now sit still.” Becca says as she picks out eyeshadow to match your outfit. “I think pink eyeshadow and then a little black wing tip would be perfect.” She says and you nod. She picks out the perfect pink and applies it before putting on the eyeliner. “Would you stop moving your eyes?” She tells you with annoyance. “I remember how it was putting on your makeup for that party.” She adds and you smile.

“But I made out with so many girls so wasn’t it worth it?” You tell her and she rolls her eyes.

“I guess.” She adds a bit of mascara, blush and then some lip gloss. “There, I think you’re done.” She says and you look in the mirror.

“It’s perfect, thank you.” You tell her and she smiles.

“You’re still my best friend, even if you are going to be doing my mom tonight.” She says and you smile at her.

“And I’ll tell you absolutely nothing about it.” You say and she shakes her head.

“And I thank you for that.” She says. “Now let's finish up with your hair.” She adds and you nod.

Becca makes her way upstairs where Melissa is waiting on the couch.

“Bye mom, have fun tonight.” Becca says and then she instantly regrets saying that.

“Hey, honey, come here for a second.” Melissa says and she makes her way over to her daughter. “I do want to thank you for your support. Still being her best friend and still wanting me to be your mom.”

“Well I love you both and I’m happy that you make each other happy.” Becca tells her and Melissa hugs her. Becca hugs her back and then realises the time. “I gotta go meet his mom right now.” Becca says into the hug when Melissa won’t let her pull back.

“Alright, fine. If he breaks up with you though then I’ll break his car lights.” Melissa tells her and Becca smiles at that.

“Or I’ll borrow your bat and do that myself.” She counters and Melissa smiles warmly.

“That’s my girl.” She says and then Becca goes to the door.

“By the way, you look great.” She tells her mom then leaves.

“Hey Melissa.” You say after Becca leaves and Melissa turns around. Melissa is frozen in place after she eyes you up and down and you walk up to her. “What do you think?” You ask her and she swallows after a second.

“Oh fuck, I might fold first tonight.” She says and you smirk before you look at her outfit. She’s wearing black leather pants and a green tank top that gives you an amazing view of her big cleavage and of her arms as well.

“I don’t know, I’m feeling like I might fold soon.” You tell her and she smirks before she wraps an arm around you and leads you to her car. She opens up the passenger side door for you and you get in after giving her a kiss.

She takes you to a moderately nice place and looks at you. “If I went any nicer then I wouldn’t be able to wear my leather pants.” She says and you smile.

“And that would be a tragedy.” You joke and she laughs before she gets out.

“Exactly.” She says and then closes the car door. “Under Schemmenti for 2.” She tells the front door person and they check before a waiter comes and seats you. They bring you to a booth and you sit across from Melissa and look at the menu.

“I’m surprised you didn’t take me to an Italian restaurant.” You tell her and she chuckles.

“We both know they can never match my cooking.” She says with a wink and you blush before looking at the menu again. The waiter comes a few minutes later and takes your order before leaving you be.

“So I’ve wanted to ask, it seems like you don’t like Becca’s father so why did you marry him?” You ask her and she takes a couple seconds before answering.

“I was young, I met him when I was 19 and we got married 3 years later. He was charming at first and we had a lot in common, plus he was a firefighter.” She says and you smile. “We didn’t plan on having kids but then I got pregnant with Becca a few years later and this other side of him showed. He was against having kids even though I was pregnant and I made the decision to keep the baby and he didn’t like that. We fought a lot and then I asked for a divorce finally when she was 6 years old and we officially divorced a year later.” She tells you and you nod.

“Have you seen him since or has Becca?” You ask her and she shakes her head.

“I was giving him updates on her life for the first year after he left but he still wasn’t interested in her so I finally stopped talking to him.” She says and you listen to everything she says with interest.

“Must have been hard raising her by yourself, even when you were still with him.” You tell her.

“It was worth it. I love her more than anything and I would do anything for her, and I’m thankful that she loves me back and made a great friend.” She tells you and you blush.

“When did you start dating again?” You ask her and she takes a moment to think about it.

“I think she was 13 and she started hanging out with some friends a lot so I started opening myself up to dating and went on quite a few.” She says and you lean back a bit.

“And when you say quite a few, do you mean like 5 or 10 dates?” You ask her and she quirks an eyebrow at you before replying.

“I mean more like close to 30.” She says and you widen your eyes. “But it wasn’t in one year, it was in the span of 8 years.” She explains and you think about that.

“But that would make her 21 when you stopped dating.” You say and she nods. “She’s 22.” You say and she nods again. “Did you not go on any dates in the past year?” You ask and she shakes her head.

“I didn’t feel like dating again as this cute h/c -haired girl that kept coming over, started catching my attention.” She says and you blush. “I always thought you were cute but in the past year I developed an attraction to you.” She says and you smile.

“I’ve been attracted to you since I first met you.” You tell her and she smiles. “I remember you put down one of the boxes of her stuff and turned around and we locked eyes for the first time. That was the moment I knew what my type was but the more I got to know you, the more I realised that it was an instant crush I had and not just attraction.” You tell her and then you feel a foot touching your ankle and your eyes widen.

“You’ve been wanting me for 4 years then.” She says and you bite your lip when she starts trailing her foot up and stops at your knee. The waiter arrives at that moment with the food and she doesn’t move her foot back at all. She keeps moving her foot up and down and never goes higher than your knee. You know your underwear is already ruined and Melissa knows it too with how flushed your cheeks are.

You start eating your food to try and ignore how her foot is making you feel and she stops for a few minutes.

You instead slide into conversation about questions that she has about your life and you answer them while also thinking about ways to retaliate to her earlier teasing.

“Ya, I’ve always loved kids but then I chose to be a teacher instead of something else. I had an amazing elementary school teacher who cared about her job and her students and I thought I could be like her when I grow up.” You tell her and she smiles. “I see you’re the same way with your students. You may be a badass with a rough exterior but you have a heart of gold. It shows with your daughter and your students.” You tell her and she nods.

“I’ve always wanted to work with kids as well. I know how hard these students have it, I see it every year. So I try to do everything I can to make their lives a bit easier or to put a smile on their face.” She says and you smile. “I know the other teachers do it as well. Barb knows it the best, she’s been teaching there for 30 years and she’s seen countless students come and go. She once told me that if she makes even one student’s life easier then she’s happy.” She adds.

You then move your plate to her side of the table and go to sit beside her. She immediately moves over but still gives you a confused look.

“It’s silly to sit away from you instead of right beside you when you’re so perfect.” You tell her with a shrug and she chuckles before rubbing your back and then going back to eating. You then switch to eating with your non-dominant hand and then move your hand to her thigh and you see her immediately widen her eyes before looking down.

“So that’s why you moved, to get me back for earlier.” She says and you wink at her.

“Well that and I also get a better view of your boobs from this angle.” You tell her and she snorts. You then get a notification from your phone and go and check the email. “Well look at that, I just got an interview for a teaching position at Abbott Elementary School on Tuesday.” You tell her and she looks at your phone and sees you’re right.

“3rd grade teacher? I heard that the teacher was leaving after the year was over.” She tells you. “Her class is a couple doors down from mine.” She adds and you smile.

You then move your hand back on her thigh then move it up and stop just before you reach her centre and she jumps at that.

“You’re playing dirtier than I did.” She says and you can hear her breathing getting heavier.

“That’s because I love to win.” You whisper in her ear before you gently bite it and she whimpers.

“Are you all done?” The waiter says and you turn to look at him with a smile and you nod. “Was it to your satisfaction?” He asks.

“It was amazing.” You tell him and your hand is still moving up and down near Melissa’s centre and she’s trying to control her breathing.

“Will you be having dessert or would you like the bill?” He asks.

“Just the bill, please.” Melissa squeaks out and you smirk at her before looking towards the waiter.

“One bill or two?” He asks.

“One bill.” Melissa says after you look at her as you didn’t know what to say. The waiter nods, takes your plates and leaves. “As much as I’m enjoying your hand there, I do have to get my wallet to pay.” She tells you and you hum.

“Say you fold and I’ll stop.” You tell her and she groans softly before she grabs your hand and holds it before she gets her wallet out from her big purse. She’s able to get it out just in time before you place your other hand on her thigh and she glares at you but she doesn’t back down.

The waiter comes back and she gives him her card after she looks at the bill. He comes back after a few minutes and gives her card back and she has enough brain power to put it back in her wallet and put it in her purse.

“Have a good night.” The waiter tells you both and then leaves after you wish him the same. You get up after passing your finger quickly over her clit and she lets out a small squeak. You got to give her credit for not folding after teasing her hard for 10 minutes. You follow her out and back to her car but she traps you between her and the car before you open the door.

“You played very dirty in there.” She tells you with a lower pitched voice and you shiver slightly.

“I’m surprised you didn’t fold.” You tell her and she hums.

“I almost did, I wanted to. But the thing is, I like winning too.” She says and presses herself up against you and you feel her boobs squished against you and you let out a gasp. “But I don’t want to give anyone a free show here so how about we take this home and continue there?” She says and you nod.

After 2 minutes of her driving you realise the huge advantage she has for being the driver. She can tease you all she wants and you can’t do a thing as she has to focus on the road.

“I should have drove.” You say when her hand is on the inside of your thigh very close to your dripping centre and you hear her chuckle. You get home after a long tortuous 8 minutes and you quickly get out before you fold.

“I’m surprised you didn’t fold.” Melissa says after you walk in. Before you reply she pins you against the door and you widen your eyes. She then takes one of your hands and places it on her chest and you feel the top of her breasts and you let out a breath. “If you fold then you can feel both of them all over without anything covering them.” She says and then your dissolve crumbles.

“I fold.” You say and quickly capture her in a kiss. She stumbles a bit at the unexpected kiss but quickly regains her balance and smiles into the kiss at hearing you fold.

“Let’s go upstairs.” She says and quickly brings you to her bedroom. She closes the door and you immediately take her tank top and bra off as soon as she turns around. You place your hands on her breasts and squeeze them a few times before placing your mouth on a nipple and she lets out a moan.

She pulls you off her nipple and kisses you hard and gets you to walk backwards until you fall on the bed with a ‘oomph’. She climbs on top of you after taking her pants off and you see her there in just her underwear that has a noticeable wet spot and you smile.

“Like knowing how wet you made me in that restaurant?” She asks and you nod proudly. “I almost wanted you to fuck me right there in the booth.” She says and you squirm. “Wanted you to have your fingers deep inside me while I try not to make any noises.” She says and you bring your hands to her thighs. “You know your crop top and shorts are cute but I would really like to see what’s underneath.” She tells you and you nod your consent.

She takes your top off and sees your push up bra and she quirks her eyebrow in amusement at your attempt to fluster her more. She then unclips your bra and takes a nice long look at your full chest on display and she licks her lips. She unbuttons your shorts and takes them off along with your underwear and you gasp at her sneakiness. Before you complain, she takes her underwear off and gets back on top of you and you just admire her completely naked and see her very wet pussy that you just want to touch.

She places her hands on her breasts and you squirm a bit at hearing her moans that are coming out of her mouth due to her pleasuring herself on top of you. You then sit up, slap her left hand away and place your mouth on her nipple and start sucking. She giggles when you slap her hand away but it quickly turns into a moan when you start sucking. She quickly places her hands in your hair to keep you there and encourages you on.

“Yes, keep sucking. You love my big tits don’t you baby? Suck on my tits all you want, get mommy all nice and wet.” She says and you widen your eyes at the nickname she gives herself. You realise that it turns you on and wrap your arms around her waist and bring her closer to you. “Oooh.” She squeaks out at you moving her closer and then she smiles. “Do you like that? Being mommy’s baby?” She asks and you nod while still sucking. “Give mommy’s other tit some attention.” She tells you and you obey and switch to the other one. She brushes some hair out of your face with her hand and she bucks her hips when you lick and suck at the same time and lets out a gasp. “Do that again baby.” She says while heavily breathing and you do the same thing. She can’t wait any longer after that and pulls your mouth off of her and kisses you. “I need you to fuck me right now.” She tells you and you easily slip one finger in her.

You slip two more in and she starts moving her hips, bringing herself pleasure with your fingers. You watch as she has her mouth wide open, eyes closed and she leans her forehead against yours. You realise at that moment that you’re in love with her and you’re more than ok with that. She moves one hand to cup your cheek and wraps her other arm around your neck to keep you close. Her breathing suddenly gets heavier and you feel her legs start to shake. You move your fingers to match her speed and she gasps at more pleasure she’s getting. She suddenly brings you into a kiss and you pull away and attach your lips to her neck.

“Oh god.” She gasps out at the immense pleasure and you smirk against her neck.

“Is mommy gonna come?” You ask her and she whimpers.

“Yes, don’t stop.” She says and then you feel her clench around your fingers and her whole body tense up. She grips you tighter with her hands and throws her head back as she comes hard. She slows her hips down on your fingers before stopping and you pull them out gently and lick her juices off. She looks at you licking her fingers and smiles at you moaning.

“Should have had you sit on my face.” You say and she lets out an airy chuckle as she comes down from her high.

“Have you ever fucked yourself with a dildo?” She suddenly asks you and you shake your head. “Do you want to be fucked with a dildo?” She asks and you think about it.

“Will it hurt?” You ask her.

“That depends on how many fingers you’ve used to masturbate with.”

“2 is the max.”

“It’ll hurt a little, but the pain goes away after a few seconds and then it feels really good.” She says and you think about it before nodding.

“Ok but go slow.” You tell her as she gets up. She grabs the strap and her smallest dildo from the closet and puts it on before getting back on the bed. She spreads your legs and instead brings her mouth to your clit instead of the dildo. She licks and sucks on your clit to get you more wet, like you aren’t already dripping before she gets on her knees in between your legs. She puts some lube on it that she brought from her closet and then aligns it with your centre. She looks at you and you nod before she slowly enters you. You start gasping at getting stretched out and she grabs both of your hands and you squeeze her hands. She enters you completely and stays still for a few seconds.

“You ok baby?” She asks and you nod after a second. She starts moving slowly and you gasp at the sensation and close your eyes. She pumps in and out of you a few times before you wrap your legs around her. You wrapped them around a bit too high and she falls down on top of you.

“Ow.” You squeak out and she stays on top of you.

“You alright?” She asks you and you nod.

“Keep going.” You tell her and she starts pumping in and out of you again. You start moaning out at the sensation and she smiles before she starts sucking on your neck. You feel your orgasm start building and you breath heavier. “Mommy, kiss me.” You tell her and she immediately pulls back from your neck and starts kissing your lips.

You then squeeze her hands and she can tell your clenching around the dildo as she has to go harder to keep moving. She pulls back from your lips just in time to hear you gasp out as you come. She pulls out of you carefully before she takes the strap off. She throws it somewhere and then she lays down next to you and pulls you close to her to help you calm down.

“So how was your first time?” She asks when she sees your breathing at a regular pace again.

“Well I don’t really have a lot to compare it to.” You tell her and she laughs. “But I’ve never felt this good after masturbating.” You tell her and she hums. “How was it for you?” You ask her.

“Oh god baby, you made me come hard.” She says and you smile before you move your head off her arm and place it on her chest. “Already using my boobs as a pillow?” She asks and you nod before you fall asleep.

The next morning she gives you one of her long shirts to wear when you ask for one and you put your underwear on. You both go to the kitchen and she starts the coffee machine and you wrap your arms around her waist. She leans into your touch before she turns around and gives you a kiss. She makes you back up towards the counter in the middle and places her mouth on your neck before she slips her hand down and circles your clit. You feel your orgasm building quickly and then Becca comes in and she hears you moan out.

“Nope.” She says and then walks right out and to her room.

Melissa pulled back from you and you both stared at each other before bursting out laughing.

*Tuesday Morning*

“You’re gonna be great.” Melissa tells you as she brings you to the office for your interview with Ava. You make it to the office and she gives you a quick kiss to help you calm down.

“Woah Melissa, no idea you had a hot girlfriend. But I’ll need you to keep the kisses down as I have an interview with someone in a few minutes.” Ava says as she comes in.

“I’m the someone you’re interviewing.” You tell her and Ava looks between you and Melissa before sighing.

“Ok, come on then.” She says and she closes the door and sits down. She sees Melissa glaring at her before she walks out to the break room and Ava takes a deep breath before looking at you.

“I GOT THE JOB!” You yell out as you enter the break room and immediately hug Melissa. Everyone turns to look at you as you hug Melissa and sees her surprise face turn happy.

“I knew you could do it.” She says and then Ava comes in.

“Gave your girlfriend the job as she might survive here since she’s with you.” Ava tells Melissa.

“Girlfriend?” Janine asks and everyone looks at Melissa.

“Yes she’s my girlfriend, so youse be nice unless you want a bat to your headlights.” Melissa tells them and you sit on her lap with a smile.

“I gotta go as I’m going to take Becca out as an apology for when she walked in on us.” You tell here and then give her a kiss and walk out.

“Had a good weekend Melissa?” Jacob asks while trying not to laugh.

“Maybe.” Melissa says and then takes a sip of coffee with a smile.

Taglist: @esposadejoyhuerta

@imaginesmultifandoms

@idonothingalldays-blog

@sexysapphicshopowner

@dvrkhcld

@lilfartbox1

@ricejucie

@unicorniusfallapatorius

@a-queen-and-her-throne

@sleep-deprived-athlete

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@morgananyx

Let me know if you want to be added!

#melissa schemmenti x reader #melissa schemmenti x oc #melissa schemmenti x you #melissa schemmenti fanfic #melissa schemmenti #x reader #fanfic #abbott elementary #lisa ann walter #law

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mamiobesssionfics · 3 days ago

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A New Year’s Beginning

Rhea Ripley x Reader

Summary: A drunken New Year’s Eve leads to something you never expected.

The sunlight that crept through the curtains felt like an ambush.

You groaned, squeezing your eyes shut to hide from the brightness and the pounding in your head.

The ache in your temples was nothing compared to the strange warmth next to you. You peeked out from under the blanket and froze.

Rhea.

She was sleeping beside you, the sheet tangled around her legs, her tank top slightly pushed up, her dark hair spilling over the pillow.

Her back was to you.

You sucked in a sharp breath, your heart racing faster than it had any right to after the amount of alcohol you’d consumed last night.

What had you done? You weren't even at your place.

You slid out of bed as quietly as possible, wincing when the floor creaked under your weight.

Your clothes from last night were scattered across the room, and you snatched them up quickly, praying she wouldn’t wake up.

“Going somewhere?”

Her voice was rough, a blend of sleep and amusement, and it stopped you in your tracks.

You turned slowly, your clothes clutched to your chest like they could shield you from her eyes.

She was sitting up now, her arms crossed, one eyebrow raised. And she nearly gave you a heart attack.

“I was just...uh…” You tried to find an excuse.

“Leaving?” she guessed, her lips quirking into a smirk. “Bit rude, don’t you think?”

“I wasn’t trying to be rude,” you replied, your voice barely above a whisper. “I just thought...maybe I’d overstayed my welcome.”

Rhea swung her legs over the side of the bed, the smirk softening into a warm smile.

“Relax, mate. You’re fine. Sit down before you fall over.”

You did, sinking onto the edge of the bed, your head in your hands. “I’m so sorry if I did anything embarrassing last night. I don’t usually drink that much.”

“You were pretty drunk. But you weren’t embarrassing.”

“I wasn’t?”

She tilted her head, as she came around the bed and sat next to you.

“Well, unless you count confessing your feelings and kissing me.”

“I—I did what?” You stared at her, your mind blank.

Her smirk returned, though it was softer now, almost shy.

“You told me how you felt. That you’d liked me for ages. Then you kissed me.”

“Oh my god,” you groaned, burying your face in your hands. “I’m so sorry, Rhea. I didn’t mean to—”

“Why are you apologizing?” she interrupted. Her voice had a surprising gentleness to it. “I didn’t stop you, did I?”

You glanced up, your heart stuttering in your chest. “What?”

She shrugged, a faint blush creeping across her cheeks, you noticed.

“I wasn’t exactly upset about it. I’ve felt the same way for a while now. Guess it just took you getting drunk on New Year’s Eve to bring it out.”

Her words hung in the air, and you blinked at her, trying to process what she’d just said. Were you dreaming?

“You feel the same?”

“Yeah, I do,” she admitted, her gaze steady despite the pink on her face. “And if you remember anything about that kiss, you’d know I kissed you back. How do you think you ended up here?”

“I…I didn’t think you’d ever feel that way about me.”

“Shows what you know.” She gestured toward the doorway. “Now, come on. I’m starving, and I make a mean breakfast.”

She headed for the kitchen, and you followed, still half in disbelief but smiling all the same.

As you watched her move around the kitchen, cracking eggs and flipping pancakes like it was second nature, you felt a warmth settle in your chest.

“This is the best start to a new year I could’ve asked for,” you said softly, more to yourself than to her.

She glanced over her shoulder, her smile stunning.

“Well, stick around, and maybe it’ll get even better.”

"Is that a promise?" you asked and she playfully smiled back.

When she set a plate of pancakes in front of you, she leaned down to press a quick kiss to your temple.

She leaned down to kiss your cheeks, but you moved so her lips met yours as you stood up.

"Eat first. I'm hungry." she said when she pulled back and you groaned a little.

But you were hungry, so you did as you were told.

The new year had only just begun, but with Rhea by your side, you were certain it was going to be the best.

#rhea ripley fanfiction #rhea ripley imagine #rhea ripley imagines #rhea ripley x reader #wwe fanfiction #wwe fic #wwe imagine #wwe raw #rhea ripley #rhea ripley fanfic #rhea ripley smut #wwe rhea ripley #mami rhea #rhea ripley x fem reader #wwe rhea ripley x reader #rhea ripley x you #rhea ripley x y/n #rhea ripley x female reader

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watarfallar · 1 day ago

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Incorrect quotes because I'm rewatching Wild Life

Scar: Hey Grian, check out this funny .GIF I found! Grian: It’s pronounced “jif”. Scar: Huh? Grian: “Dot jif”, like the peanut butter. The creator said so. Scar: That’s dumb, it’s Graphics Interchange Format. Grian: The P in .JPEG stands for “photographic”, but I bet you don’t say “J-pheg”. Scar: “P” on its own isn’t pronounced like “F”, that’s totally different! Grian: It’s exactly the same! Scar: Name one word that starts with “G” pronounced like “J”. Grian: Gentrification. Scar: Shoot, should have thought of that. I was just in San Francisco. Grian: For your logic to be consistent, you’d have to say “skuh-bah” (scuba) or “lah-seer” (laser)! Scar: Yeah? Well, you’d have to say “J-pej”! Scar: …Wait, “laser” is an acronym? Grian: Light Amplification by Stimulated Emission of Radiation. Scar: Huh. Didn’t know that. Scar: You’re still wrong, though. Grian: You just hate me because I’m right. Scar: I just hate you in general. Grian: You mean in “geh-neral”? Scar: Ugh, I’m “joing” to kill you!

Grian: Someone’s trying to break in. Call the cops! Scar: loads shotgun I got this. Grian: Last week you fell up the stairs, what do you mean-

Scar: Okay, Grian, you were right! I was… Less right!

Scar: Grian, wake up! Grian, half asleep: Five more minutes… Scar: You’ve been in a coma for two years! Grian: … Grian: Okay, two more minutes…

Grian: Shut it Scar, I only shook your hand because I had to. We will NEVER be friends. Scar: Lets survive this together! Grian: I HOPE YOU DIE.

Scar: What’s your biggest fear? Grian: I am incredibly arachnophobic. Scar, under their breath: You don’t want spiders to get married?

Grian: chokes on something Scar: Jeez, Grian, don't die on us. Grian: Don't tell me what to do, I'll die whenever the hell I want!

Grian and Scar are texting Grian: Who are you? Someone changed the names in my phone. Scar: What did they change my name to? Grian: Chosen One. Scar: Don’t change it back. Grian: BUT WHO ARE YOU?!?! Scar: I’m the chosen one.

Scar: Are you mad? Grian: No. Scar: So sharpening your knives at 3 in the morning is just a hobby?

Grian: Alright, listen up you little shits. Grian: Not you Scar. You’re an angel and we’re thrilled you’re here.

Scar: According to the footage here, you shook the vending machine and when the shake alarm went off, you punched the glass and broke it. Grian: …I was hungry.

Grian: Don’t you have any dignity, Scar? Scar: Uh, no.

Grian: Do you want this handful of moss? Scar: Why would I want a handful of fucking moss? Grian: Damn, you could’ve just said no.

Scar: Your problem is that you’ve got no common sense. Grian: I’ve got plenty of common sense! Grian: I just choose to ignore it.

Scar: I’m serious! They’re watching me! They’ve even got an agent following me! Don’t you believe me? Grian: Look, it’s not that I don’t believe you… It’s that I don’t believe you and I don’t care.

Scar: Grian keeps forgetting which WiFi network they're supposed to use. Scar: So I renamed ours to "Grian, use this one" to help them out a little.

Grian: Please, Scar, after everything we’ve been through together. You can’t do this. Grian: I’m sorry Scar. Grian: I’m begging you. Don’t do it. Scar: It has to be done. Grian: Scar: Grian: Scar: Places +4 Uno.

Scar: Does immaturely insulting me make you feel better about your sad single life? Grian: It actually does.

Grian: Amazing! Scar, your just like Sherlock Homeless! Scar: IT'S HOLMES!

Grian: I taught the dog a new trick. throws ball Fetch! Dog: just stands there Scar: He didn’t do it. Grian: I taught him to ignore social conventions and think for himself.

Grian: What the hell is wrong with you? Scar: I have this weird self-esteem issue where I hate myself but still think I’m better than everyone else.

Grian: Do you have a superpower? Scar: Yep! It’s hindsight. Grian: …that’s not going to help us. Scar: Yes, I see that now.

Grian: You’re giving me a sticker? Scar: Not just a sticker. That is a sticker of a kitty saying “me-wow!” Grian: I’m not a preschooler. Scar: Fine, I’ll take it back- Grian: I earned this, back off!

#grian #gtws #incorrect quotes #desert duo #scarian #enjoy💜💜💜

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kckt88 · 3 days ago

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Scorched Hearts XXII

Summary:

'We loved with a love that was more than love - Edgar Allen Poe'

As the family gather for a wedding, Valaena and Alicent come to blows.

Warning(s): Four Year Time Skip, Angst, Drama, Language, Mild Violence/Threats, Arguements, Brother/Sister Incest, Wedding, Celebration, Alcohol Consumption, Uncle/Niece Incest, Kissing, Fingering, Oral Sex, P in V.

AEMOND x O.C Niece

Word Count: 6929

A.N - Last Chapter!!

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the House of The Dragon or Fire & Blood characters nor do I claim to own them. I do not own any of the images used.

Comments, likes, and reblogs are very much appreciated, do not copy/post to other sights without my permission.

Tag List - @jasminecosmic99 @kaelatargaryen @yesterdayfeelings-blog @immyowndefender @0eessirk8 @darylandbethfanforever9 @killua2dot0 @msassenach @xcharlottemikaelsonx

The door creaked open slightly, and Valaena stood in the doorway , her violet eyes soft but bright with curiosity.

Inside, Jaehaerys stood in front of a tall mirror, his hands fumbling with the intricate embroidery on his sleeves.

His usually composed face was a mask of nerves, and the maids hovering nearby exchanged quiet glances, unsure whether to step in or retreat.

Valaena stepped inside, closing the door behind her. “You look like you’re going to throw up,” she said, her voice laced with amusement.

Jaehaerys turned to face her, his expression half-wrought with panic, half-exasperated. “I’ve never been so nervous in my life. What if I stutter? What if I say the wrong thing?” His hands twitched as though they didn’t know what to do with themselves.

Valaena approached, her steps measured and deliberate. Her presence alone seemed to calm the room.

She placed a reassuring hand on his arm and smiled. “It’s natural to be nervous on your wedding day,” she said warmly.

He huffed a soft laugh. “What was your wedding to my uncle like?”

Valaena smile turned slightly mischievous. “Which one—the first or the second?”

Jaehaerys blinked, caught off guard. “You got married twice?”

“We did,” she confirmed with a playful tilt of her head. “The first was in the tradition of our house, though in a way that was very much our own. The second was in Qarth—a small affair, though no less meaningful.”

Jaehaerys seemed to relax, curiosity momentarily replacing his anxiety. “I never knew that” he said, then hesitated before adding, “I want to thank you—and Uncle Aemond, of course. If it weren’t for the two of you, and my mother and father, I wouldn’t be getting married today.”

“You are most welcome,” Valaena replied, her tone warm. Then, she tilted her head slightly. “Will your grandmother be in attendance?”

A shadow of sadness crossed Jaehaerys’ face. He shook his head. “I-I’m not sure, I don’t think she agrees with my choice of bride. Targaryen’s and our queer customs, she calls it.”

Valaena scoffed lightly. “Sometimes our blood calls to its own. It has always been this way.”

“She just doesn’t understand,” Jaehaerys murmured.

“No, she doesn’t,” Valaena agreed, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder. “But let’s not dwell on such things. Today is about happiness-”

“You’re right,” he said, straightening slightly as if to banish his lingering doubts.

“Good,” she said, her smile returning. “Now, while your mother tends to your bride, I brought you something.”

From the folds of her cloak, she produced a small, intricately carved box. She handed it to Jaehaerys, who opened it with careful hands.

His face lit up as he revealed a silver clasp shaped into two-headed dragons, their forms styled after Morghul and Shrykos, their heads entwined as if in eternal unity.

“Your bride has a matching one,” Valaena said, her voice soft.

Jaehaerys ran his fingers over the smooth silver and looked up at her. “Thank you,” he said, his voice filled with quiet reverence. “I shall treasure it always.”

Valaena took the clasp from him and stepped forward, pinning it to the front of his cloak with practiced ease.

She smoothed the fabric with a maternal touch, then stepped back to examine him. “Now, I think you’re ready,” she said with a smile of approval.

Jaehaerys took a deep breath, squaring his shoulders. “Time to get married,” he said, his voice steadier now, though a flicker of nervous energy still remained.

“I’ll see you down there,” Valaena said, moving toward the door. But as her hand touched the handle, Jaehaerys called out to her.

“Wait!” he said, his brow furrowing. “Just how did you get the High Septon to agree to this?”

She paused, turning back with a sly smile. “Surely you know of the Doctrine of Exceptionalism, set forth by Old King Jaehaerys?”

“Of course,” he said with a nod, “but I heard the High Septon was resistant to my marriage to Jaehaera despite the doctrine.”

Valaena's smile widened, her eyes glinting with amusement. “It was a joint effort between your mother and myself,” she said. “Best you don’t know the ins and outs, but let’s just say your mother found her inner dragon.”

Jaehaerys chuckled, the sound easing some of the tension in the room. “I can imagine.”

Valaena inclined her head. “And now, you should focus on the task at hand. Your bride awaits.”

With that, she gave him one last encouraging smile and slipped out of the room, leaving Jaehaerys alone with his thoughts—and a heart full of hope.

Valaena moved briskly through the Red Keep, her gown whispering along the stone floors as she made her way to Alicent’s chambers.

When she entered, the atmosphere was subdued, the room aglow with the warm light of the fire.

Alicent sat in an armchair near the hearth, fiddling with the seven-pointed star pendant that hung around her neck, her expression distant.

“Are you seriously just going to sit in here,” Valaena asked, her tone sharp but not unkind, “while your grandchildren are getting married?”

Alicent took a deep breath, her fingers stilling on the necklace. “They are twins,” she said softly. “I don’t—”

“You don’t what?” Valaena interrupted, stepping closer. “Agree with it?”

Alicent drew a deep breath, steadying herself. “I can’t stop thinking of Helaena and Aegon, and how unhappy they’ve both been in their marriage.”

“Oh, you mean the marriage you forced them into?” Valaena’s voice was laced with venom. “Because you didn’t want Helaena marrying Jace? Let’s not pretend you’re some tragic figure here, Alicent.”

“That’s not—” Alicent began, her voice faltering.

“Not true?” Valaena snapped. “Of course it is. You’ve spent your life hiding behind your so-called faith and duty, but at the end of the day, you’re nothing more than a hypocrite.”

Alicent’s lips tightened, and her tone sharpened. “I did what I thought was right for my family. For the realm.”

“No,” Valaena shot back, her eyes blazing. “You did what was right for you. You enjoyed the power, didn’t you? Being the Queen, bending everyone to your will. You forced your own daughter into misery just to spite my mother.”

Alicent’s eyes narrowed, her grip on the pendant tightening. “That is not true. I have always done my duty”

“Your duty?” Valaena sneered, stepping closer, her voice rising. “Is that what you call it? Forcing Helaena into marriage with that drunken whore of son you raised”

Alicent’s hand trembled as she pointed a finger at Valaena. “You think you’re so clever, don’t you? but you have no idea the burden of duty I have carried—”

“Burden of duty?” Valaena cut her off, her voice a furious roar. “Don’t make me laugh! Your burden was sitting on a throne you were never meant to have, manipulating everyone around you with your simpering piety. You call it duty, but it was always about control. Your father taught you well, didn’t he?”

Alicent’s face twisted with rage. “You have no right to speak of my father!”

“I have every right!” Valaena snarled, stepping so close their faces were inches apart. “He used you like a pawn, and instead of breaking free, you became just like him. A schemer. A manipulator. Only you cloak your cruelty in the guise of virtue, hiding behind that ridiculous seven-pointed star like it absolves you of everything.”

Alicent stood abruptly, her eyes flashing with anger. “You know nothing about what I’ve endured!” she hissed. “You weren’t there when your mother flaunted every rule, every expectation, while I was trapped, doing what was expected of me!”

Valaena scoffed, her expression sharp as the edge of a blade. “-You and my mother were once friends, and you grew to resent her because you did what was expected of you, while she trampled all over duty with her pretty foot.”

Alicent’s breath hitched, and her eyes narrowed as the words struck a deeply buried chord.

For a fleeting moment, her composure faltered, and her mind was dragged back to that fateful night on Driftmark.

The firelight had flickered in the hall, casting shadows over the scene of chaos.

Aemond sat near the hearth, his face a grim mask of pain as the Maester stitched the torn flesh where his left eye had once been.

The memory burned like a fresh wound, but it was nothing compared to the fury that had surged through her veins when Viserys had risen from his seat—not to defend his maimed son, but to refuse her demand for justice.

His focus on the insult against Rhaenyra’s children, and preserving his delusion of peace, requesting apologise and gestures of good will to one another as though Aemond’s suffering was a mere inconvenience.

The dagger had felt heavy in her hand as she charged toward Lucerys, her vision red with rage, her heart pounding with the need to balance the scales.

There was a debt to be paid. But Rhaenyra had risen to meet her, a shield between Alicent and her intended target, and their struggle had been seared into Alicent’s memory.

“It’s truly exhausting, isn’t it?” Rhaenyra’s voice had cut through the chaos, her words as sharp as the blade they wrestled over. “Hiding beneath the cloak of your own righteousness?”

The phrase echoed in her mind now, like a cruel spectre from the past, and Alicent’s grip on her seven-pointed star necklace tightened. She blinked rapidly, her lips pressed into a thin line, as she forced herself back to the present.

“Careful, Valaena,” Alicent said, her voice trembling with suppressed anger. “You speak of things you couldn’t possibly understand.”

Valaena’s lips curled into a smirk, her confidence unwavering. “Oh, I understand plenty,” she said

Alicent’s face flushed. “You have no idea what it’s like to sacrifice everything for the sake of others. To bear the weight of a crown you never asked for.”

Valaena leaned in, her voice low and cutting. “I know exactly what that’s like. But unlike you, I won’t let bitterness consume me, the point is that Jaehaerys and Jaehaera chose each other”

“They’re twins!” Alicent spat, her voice rising. “It’s unnatural!”

Valaena’s eyes narrowed dangerously. “Unnatural? What’s unnatural is you sitting here, wallowing in self-pity, instead of being there for your grandchildren. You claim to care about them, yet all you’ve done is judge them for embracing the customs of their house. Customs you benefited from when it suited you.”

Alicent drew herself up, her tone icy. “You think you know everything, don’t you? Your arrogance is astounding.”

“And your self-righteousness is exhausting,” Valaena shot back. “You sit here pretending to be above it all, when all you’ve done is meddle and destroy. Admit it, Alicent—you’re jealous.”

Alicent’s eyes widened, her face paling slightly. “Jealous?” she whispered, her voice faltering.

“Yes,” Valaena pressed, her voice softer now but no less pointed. “Jealous of the freedom they have. The freedom you were never allowed”

For a moment, silence stretched between them, the fire crackling in the hearth the only sound. Alicent’s shoulders slumped slightly, and she looked away, her voice barely above a whisper. “Perhaps I am.”

Valaena exhaled sharply, some of the tension leaving her frame. “Please don’t punish them for your regrets,” she said firmly. “Be there for them. Show them you care, even if you don’t understand.”

Alicent sighed deeply, her shoulders slumping slightly. “I don’t know if I can.”

Valaena’s expression hardened again. “As future queen, I order you to attend that wedding. Because if you don’t, I swear to every single one of the Seven that I will make your life a living hell.”

Alicent blinked, then a faint smile tugged at her lips. “You truly are blood of the dragon. I can see why Aemond is so drawn to you.”

Valaena raised an eyebrow, clearly caught off guard. “Not the response I was expecting.”

Alicent shrugged slightly. “Nothing else came to mind.”

“So,” Valaena said, folding her arms, “are you coming to the wedding?”

Alicent exhaled, her lips twitching into a reluctant smile. “I don’t have much of a choice, do I?”

“Not exactly,” Valaena said with a sly grin.

“Then I suppose I’ll be there,” Alicent said, her voice soft but sincere.

“Good,” Valaena said firmly, turning to leave.

As she reached the door, Alicent called out to her. “Valaena.”

She turned back, her expression questioning.

“Do you think my grandchildren will be happy?” Alicent asked, her voice tinged with vulnerability.

Valaena smiled gently. “Like I said, they chose each other.”

Alicent nodded slowly, a faint smile crossing her lips. “I’m glad you chose Aemond.”

“So am I,” Valaena said with a soft smile, before stepping out and closing the door behind her.

The air in Aemond and Valaena’s chambers was bustling with activity as she stepped inside.

Aemond stood at the centre of the chaos, his sharp voice ringing out as he corralled their four-year-old twins, Vhalarr and Vaelarra.

“Behave,” he said firmly, his eye narrowing in warning. “And absolutely no mischief today, do you understand?”

Vhalarr looked suitably chastised, while Vaelarra giggled, her small hands clutching the hem of her father’s tunic as if testing his patience.

On the bed, Aemon sat quietly, fiddling with the clasp of his cloak, his small brows furrowed in concentration.

Nearby, Elaena sat cross-legged, her nimble fingers weaving Daenys’ dark hair into an intricate braid.

Rhaegar stood at the edge of the room, arms folded behind his back in his usual composed manner, watching Elaena braid with a small smile tugging at his lips.

Valaena clapped her hands sharply, drawing everyone's attention. “Right, are we ready?”

Aemond turned to her, his stern expression softening instantly as his gaze swept over her. “Ao jurnegon gevie ābrazȳrys,” he murmured, his tone filled with admiration. (You look beautiful, wife.)

Valaena smiled, smoothing down her dress and stepping closer to him. “Hae gaomagon ao ñuha gēlenka zaldrīzes,” she replied, her voice equally tender. (As do you, my silver dragon.)

Aemond leaned forward, pressing a lingering kiss to her lips, a moment of calm amidst the bustling energy of their chambers.

A sharp knock interrupted them, and the door creaked open to reveal Lirri and Arro.

“Lirri, you look beautiful,” Valaena said warmly, her tone genuinely appreciative.

Lirri blushed deeper, glancing shyly at the ground. “Thank you, my lady.”

Aemond cleared his throat, his expression returning to its usual focus. “Right, we definitely need to get going.”

Valaena nodded, stepping over to Vhalarr and taking his small hand in hers. “Come, little one. And remember, behave.”

“Yes, Muña,” Vhalarr replied sweetly, though his mischievous twinkle persisted (Mother).

Aemond took Vaelarra’s hand, who offered him a mischievous smile but walked obediently beside him as they prepared to leave.

The family filed out of the chambers in a small procession, their footsteps echoing through the stone halls of the Red Keep.

The air was thick with anticipation and excitement as they approached the carriages waiting in the courtyard.

Once everyone was seated inside the carriage, the door opened unexpectedly and Alicent stepped in, her expression calm and composed, though her light blue dress betrayed a deliberate effort for the occasion.

“Room for one more?” Alicent asked, her smile warm.

Aemond blinked, clearly surprised, but quickly recovered. “Of course,” he said, gesturing to the empty spot beside him.

Alicent stepped in gracefully, settling herself next to her son.

As soon as she sat down, Vhalarr clambered onto her lap, his energy undiminished.

“Muñāzma!” he exclaimed happily, he launched into an eager stream of chatter, sharing his childlike excitement about the day ahead (Grandmother).

Alicent’s face softened as she listened attentively, her hand gently smoothing his dark hair.

Soon the carriage began to move, the younger children still talking excitedly throughout the journey to the Grand Sept.

The wedding of Jaehaerys and Jaehaera was a spectacle of beauty and love, filled with the grandeur and sacred traditions of House Targaryen and the Faith of the Seven.

The Great Sept was adorned with silken banners of red and black, each fluttering softly in the warm breeze that carried the scent of roses and dragon fire.

The aisle was strewn with petals, a blend of crimson and gold, leading to the altar where the High Septon awaited.

Jaehaerys stood tall, dressed in resplendent black and red, his cloak fastened with the two-headed dragon clasp gifted by Valaena.

When he glanced toward the crowd, his eyes widened in surprise. Sitting beside Aemond was Alicent.

She caught his gaze and offered a warm, smile, raising her hand in a wave. Jaehaerys smiled back, his heart swelling at her support.

Jaehaera was a vision in silver and pale violet, her gown embroidered with flowers, her hair adorned with delicate silver chains and pearls that shimmered in the light.

The ceremony commenced with solemn reverence. The High Septon’s voice rang clear as he bound their hands with a ribbon of gold and silver, weaving it in a slow, deliberate motion.

“We stand here in the sight of gods and men to witness the union of man and wife: one flesh, one heart, one soul, now and forever,” the High Septon proclaimed, his voice echoing in the stillness of the Sept.

The crowd, a mix of lords, ladies, and family, watched with rapt attention as the High Septon declared, “Let it be known that Jaehaerys of House Targaryen and Jaehaera of House Targaryen are one heart, one flesh, one soul. Cursed be he who would seek to tear them asunder.”

Jaehaerys and Jaehaera’s voices joined in harmony as they recited, “Father, Smith, Warrior, Mother, Maiden, Crone, Stranger.” The conviction in their tone resonated deeply, a testament to their love and dedication.

Jaehaerys then spoke, his voice steady and warm, “I am hers, and she is mine. From this day, until the end of my days.”

Jaehaera followed, her voice soft but unwavering, “I am his, and he is mine. From this day, until the end of my days.”

Finally, Jaehaerys declared, his violet eyes fixed on Jaehaera’s, “With this kiss, I pledge my love.” He leaned in, their foreheads brushing briefly before their lips met in a kiss filled with promise and devotion.

The gathered crowd erupted into cheers and applause, the sound reverberating through the Sept like the roar of dragons. The moment was one of pure joy, and even the gods seemed to smile down upon the union.

As they parted, Jaehaerys and Jaehaera beamed, their faces alight with happiness.

Hand in hand, they turned to face their family and friends. Valaena smiled warmly, her fingers intertwined with Aemond’s, while Aegon gave a hearty cheer from his seat beside Helaena, who dabbed at her tears with a silken kerchief.

As the bells of the Great Sept tolled in celebration, the newlyweds walked down the petal-strewn aisle, ready to face the future together.

The reception in the throne room was a glittering affair, filled with the warmth and grandeur befitting the union of Jaehaerys and Jaehaera.

The hall was resplendent with banners of black and red, shimmering in the golden candlelight, as laughter and music echoed against the high ceilings.

Lords and ladies mingled, their cups brimming with wine, the scent of roasted meats and honeyed treats wafting through the air.

Queen Rhaenyra stood proudly at the head of the room, her goblet raised high, her voice clear and commanding as she toasted the newlyweds. “To Jaehaerys and Jaehaera, my beloved niece and nephew. May your marriage be filled with love, strength, and the wisdom to overcome all that lies ahead. Let us all drink to their happiness and prosperity!”

The gathered lords and ladies lifted their cups in unison, echoing her words, “To Jaehaerys and Jaehaera!” The room erupted in a chorus of cheers and applause as the couple exchanged glowing smiles.

Rhaenyra then clapped her hands, summoning the musicians to play. The gentle strains of a harp began, followed by the melodic notes of a lute, filling the room with a soft, romantic tune.

Jaehaerys extended his hand to Jaehaera, who accepted with a shy yet radiant smile, and the newlyweds took to the centre of the throne room for their first dance.

Their movements were graceful and intimate, as though no one else existed in the room. The world fell away as they danced, their eyes locked, and their faces alight with love. The crowd watched, mesmerized, until the music shifted, and others joined in.

Rhaenyra and Daemon swept onto the floor; their bond palpable as they danced closely together.

Aemond, standing by the edge of the crowd, finished his cup of wine and extended his hand to Valaena. “Care for a dance, my love?”

Valaena looked up at him with a teasing smile. “You hate to dance.”

Aemond smirked, a glimmer of warmth in his eye. “I don’t mind dancing with you, ābrazȳrys” (Wife).

Valaena laughed softly, her cheeks tinged pink as she took his hand. Together, they stepped onto the floor, moving with surprising ease to the music.

Aemond rested his forehead against hers, his voice a low murmur, “Avy jorrāelan” (I love you).

Valaena cupped his face, her thumb brushing his scarred cheek, and kissed him softly. “Se avy jorrāelan, valzȳrys” (And I love you husband).

As they swayed gently to the music, Valaena placed her head against Aemond’s chest, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat soothing her.

Aemond, his hand protectively on her waist, whispered, “How did you convince my mother to attend the wedding?”

Valaena tilted her head, a sly smile tugging at her lips. “What makes you think it was anything to do with me?”

“Because I know you,” replied Aemond with a knowing look.

Valaena huffed a quiet laugh. “I might have had a few words with her.”

Aemond chuckled. “Well, whatever you said, it worked. I’m sure Jaehaerys and Jaehaera are thankful for it.”

Valaena’s gaze softened. “Mayhaps when given a choice, love has a chance to blossom more freely.”

Aemond nodded his head in agreement. “A notion our son and daughter seem to have taken to heart.”

Valaena turned and saw Rhaegar and Elaena dancing together. Their hands were clasped tightly, their eyes locked as though they were the only two people in the room.

Valaena smiled. “Ahhh young love.”

Aemond’s expression turned more serious. “I think I need to exchange a few words with our children. I do not wish to be a grandsire just yet.”

Valaena laughed. “Are you sure? I think you’d make a wonderful grandsire.”

Aemond chuckled, leaning closer. “Perhaps. But while my seed can still take root inside you, I think I’d like to wait a little longer before I’m granted the title.”

Valaena smirked. “What makes you think I want more children? We already have six. We’ve performed our duty, generously so.”

Aemond’s eye gleamed with amusement. “Don’t play coy with me, ñuha dōna. I know you’re with child again” (My sweet)

Valaena’s eyes widened slightly. “H-how?”

“Well, aside from the obvious lack of monthly bleeding, you have that mother’s glow about you,” Aemond said, his tone teasing but affectionate. “And you’ve been quite sensitive during our love-making”

Valaena’s lips curved into a soft smile. “I believe I am almost three moons gone.”

Aemond reached down, his palm resting gently against her stomach. “Another blessing to be cherished.”

“I just hope it’s not twins again,” Valaena muttered.

Aemond laughed heartily. “I agree. The twins we already have are quite the handful.”

As if on cue, a commotion drew their attention to Vhalarr and Vaelarra. The twins were giggling mischievously as they dropped a spider into a noble lady’s hair, causing her to scream in alarm.

Valaena sighed, exasperated. “You get Vaelarra, and I’ll get Vhalarr.”

Aemond smirked. “As you wish, ābrazȳrys.” (wife).

He strode off after his daughter, who squealed and darted away. Vhalarr, feigning innocence, waited until his mother approached before bolting in the opposite direction.

Valaena shook her head with a laugh, the chaos a perfect reminder of the love and life they had built together.

Later that night, the celebrations had drawn to a close, and the Red Keep was cloaked in the stillness of night.

The children were finally asleep, their youthful laughter and antics replaced by peaceful silence.

Valaena sat brushing her hair in front of the mirror when Aemond entered the room, his expression alight with mischief.

“I have a surprise for you,” he announced, stepping closer.

Valaena raised a brow. “At this hour?”

“Trust me” He extended his hand, and with a smile of curiosity, she took it.

Before long, Silverwing and Vhagar soared through the dark skies, their wings cutting through clouds that shimmered faintly in the moonlight.

The world below was silent, a tapestry of shadowed forests and rivers. Valaena followed Aemond’s lead, her excitement growing as they approached the familiar silhouette of their cabin by the sea.

As they landed, Vhagar and Silverwing settled nearby, their great forms creating gentle ripples in the sand. Aemond dismounted and helped Valaena down before guiding her toward the cabin.

“Aemond, what have you done?” she asked, laughter in her voice.

He grinned, covering her eyes with his hand. “No peeking.”

She allowed herself to be led, the cool night air brushing against her skin. The door creaked open, and Aemond guided her inside.

“Ready?” he murmured by her ear.

At her nod, he removed his hand.

Valaena gasped softly, her heart swelling at the sight. The cabin, which had fallen into disrepair over the years, now looked as it had in their happiest memories.

The wooden beams gleamed with fresh polish, the furniture was repaired and arranged with care, and thick furs and blankets adorned the bed and chairs. A warm, lived-in feeling filled the space.

“I’ve had men working on this for a good few months,” Aemond said, watching her reaction closely. “I wanted it ready for our anniversary. What do you think?”

She turned to him, her eyes shining. “It’s wonderful, Aemond. Truly.”

His lips curved into a satisfied smile. “While I get the fire going, why don’t you take off your riding leathers and get into bed? Relax for a bit.”

Valaena laughed softly. “I like the sound of that.”

Aemond pressed a kiss to her forehead before moving to the hearth. He crouched and began arranging kindling, but his task was repeatedly interrupted by his gaze wandering to Valaena.

She was unfastening her riding leathers, her movements unhurried. A soppy look crept onto Aemond’s face as he watched her, entirely enraptured.

By the time Valaena slid under the thick fur covers, she noticed Aemond still wrestling with the fire, his focus split. “Are you going to light that fire, or shall I?”

He chuckled and finally got the flames to catch. The fire crackled to life, bathing the cabin in a warm, golden glow.

Satisfied, he stood and began removing his sword and belt before pulling off his riding leathers.

Soon, he stood bare before the fire, his silver hair catching the flickering light.

As he moved to climb into bed, Valaena smirked. “Ah, you’re forgetting something.”

Aemond scoffed, shaking his head in amusement. Reaching up, he removed his eyepatch and set it on the bedside table. “Is that better, my love?”

“Much,” she said softly, her voice full of affection.

Aemond slid into bed, pulling Valaena close, her head against his chest, her hand splayed over his heart.

His fingers gently combed through her dark hair, and she sighed contentedly, the rhythm of his heartbeat soothing her.

“I had almost forgotten how peaceful it is here,” she murmured.

“I could never forget,” Aemond replied, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “This place holds a lot of memories.”

“Do you remember,” she began, her voice soft and distant, “how desperate we were when we conducted our own Valyrian wedding ceremony in front of that fireplace?”

Aemond’s hand, which had been idly stroking her silver hair, paused. His violet eye softened as he looked down at her. “I remember it vividly,” he said. “After Aegon had been crowned king, I thought I’d lost you forever.”

“I felt the same,” she replied, her voice tinged with lingering sorrow. “I thought we would be doomed to face one another in the skies, upon dragon back”

Aemond’s arms tightened around her instinctively, pulling her closer as if to shield her from even the memory of such a possibility. His voice was steady but filled with emotion. “I would have fallen on my own sword before allowing that to happen”

A tear slipped down Valaena’s cheek as she whispered, “Blessed we are then, that things didn’t end with fire and blood, and the dragons dancing.”

His grip on her became almost protective, his lips brushing her forehead. “All it took,” he said, his tone carrying a mix of dry humour and sincerity, “was us faking our deaths.”

Valaena huffed a small laugh, the sound bittersweet. “It was drastic, but it worked in the end.”

Aemond’s smirk returned, faint but genuine. “It sure did. The realm is at peace and you, my darling, are carrying our seventh child, and I’ve never been happier.”

Valaena let out a soft groan, burying her face in his chest. “Gods, are we crazy for having another?” she asked, though her voice was more amused than distressed.

“I don’t know,” Aemond replied, tilting his head thoughtfully. “I’ve always fancied us as the new Jaehaerys and Alysanne.”

Valaena pulled back slightly, her brows shooting up in mock horror. “Tell me you’re joking. They had thirteen children!”

Aemond’s lips curved into a mischievous smirk. “But my love,” he said, his voice dropping into a low, teasing whisper, “you know how much I enjoy knowing that my seed has taken root inside you.”

Valaena laughed, a genuine, melodic sound. “Oh yes,” she said dryly, “I’m well aware of how much you enjoy it.”

Aemond leaned down, nuzzling her neck with affection. His voice was a tender murmur against her skin. “Seeing your belly swell, knowing that a piece of me is growing inside you—it’s the greatest joy I’ve ever known.”

Her laughter faded, replaced by a deep, unspoken love in her eyes as she gazed up at him. He captured her lips in a kiss, one that was both passionate and tender, pouring every ounce of his devotion into it.

“I can’t wait any longer,” Aemond whispered, his voice rough with need. “I want you, Valaena. I need you.” His hands moved to her hips, guiding her closer to him, their bodies pressed together in a way that made his desire almost unbearable.

Valaena’s breath hitched as she felt the heat of his arousal against her, her own body responding to his touch. She reached up, threading her fingers through his hair as she kissed him back with equal fervour, her heart racing with the anticipation of what was to come.

“Then take me, Aemond,” she whispered against his lips, her voice trembling with a mixture of love and desire.

Aemond gently covered her body with his as he sucked and licked at the delicate skin of her neck, leaving red marks in his wake.

Valaena moved her head to the side and moaned loudly as she felt Aemond’s teeth nipping at her skin.

Ooo A-Aemond” exclaimed Valaena as he moved down her body, nibbling her at her skin as he went.

He paused at her breasts, his tongue taking turns to swirl around her rosy nipples.

“I can’t wait for these to fill with milk again-” groaned Aemond as he pressed his face into the soft pillowy mounds.

“Me either” replied Valaena softly, she knew Aemond enjoyed tasting her mother’s milk, but she enjoyed the closeness and also the relief he would give her, as nursing often left her full and sore.

“So beautiful” whispered Aemond as he lowered himself and pressed a series of gentle kisses to her stomach.

“T-t-tickles” laughed Valaena as the ends of Aemond’s long silver hair swept across her skin.

“Hmmm”

“Aemond” gasped Valaena as she felt him move lower.

“Such a pretty cunny " breathed Aemond spitting on her before he ran the flat of his tongue up Valaena’s soaked slit, from bottom to the top, tasting her.

“Oh, my god” moaned Valaena her eyes rolling into the back of her head.

“That’s it my sweet. Let me hear you”.

“YES! It feels so good. Don’t stop. Aemond. Please” begged Valaena.

"Delicious" purred Aemond as he began lapping at Valaena, running his tongue along every fold.

"More" panted Valaena. "Please. I need more”.

Aemond inserted two fingers, sliding them in and out of her slick wet folds.

“Oh, fuck" whimpered Valaena; her chest heaving.

Aemond’s fingers were soaking wet as they continued to pump in and out of her tight heat.

“I can’t wait to get my cock inside you. I don’t want to wait any longer, come for me” moaned Aemond.

Gods his cock was so hard, it was almost painful.

Finally, he felt Valaena’s inner walls start to flutter around his fingers, squeezing them. Her back arched taut as a bow, and she screamed her release.

Aemond pumped slowly and lapped at his wife whilst she came.

Soon her tense body went slack and pliant, her chest heaving with every breath.

Aemond slowly moved up Valaena’s body, pressing kisses to her soft body as he went, until he reached his desired destination.

“Kostilus issa jorrāelagon” whispered Valaena as she writhed against him (Please my love).

Aemond couldn't wait any longer. He surged forward and sheathed his hard cock into Valaena’s soaked cunt causing her to shriek in surprise.

“That’s it, take all of me” moans Aemond as he begins to move.

Valaena can’t think of anything but the deep penetrating thrusts that greet her, causing her to wail and moan, causing tears form in her eyes, before running down her cheeks.

Aemond wanted to fuck her hard, but he knows he can’t, he doesn’t want to harm the babe.

But she’s testing his restraint as he feels her clenching around him.

“YES! YES! AEMOND! I CAN TAKE IT. HARDER. PLEASE” screams Valaena.

“FUCK!” shouts Aemond.

Aemond lifts Valaena’s legs onto his shoulders and wrapped his arms around her thighs, squeezing them together as he thrust his cock a little harder into her soaking wet cunny.

“Aemond! I’m going to come. Oh, fuck!” screamed Valaena.

“That’s it baby-come for me” exclaimed Aemond as he felt her clenching on his cock.

His wife always looked amazing when she came. Her head thrown back in pleasure, her eyes alive with lust, and her pale skin shining with sweat.

Aemond could feel the tension in his abdomen, but he didn’t want to come. Not yet.

“I love you-I fucking love you” groaned Aemond as he moved Valaena’s legs off his shoulders and manoeuvred her onto all fours, she whimpered as his cock slipped out, but he bent forward to press a series of kisses to her glorious arse, his hands kneading the soft flesh.

“P-Please Aemond” begged Valaena, her voice slightly muffled as she pressed her face into the soft fur blankets.

Aemond stuck his finger in his mouth before he ran it over her puckered hole.

“Is this alight?” breathed Aemond.

“Y-Yes. Put it inside me. I can take it” whimpered Valaena.

“Tell me-Tell me if it’s too much” replied Aemond as he slowly pressed his finger inside her.

“Ooh Aemond, yes. Please. More” babbled Valaena as he moved his finger in and out before adding a second.

“Your doing so well-my darling” moaned Aemond as he moved his fingers inside his wife, his other hand taking his cock and sheathing himself inside her once again, his eye rolling into the back of his head.

Valaena arched her back and screamed as Aemond thrust into her, the sound of his hips slapping against hers echoed through the air.

“Fuck-that’s it” moaned Aemond, his fingers still curling inside her.

“P-Please. Valzȳrys” whimpered Valaena (Husband).

Aemond removed his fingers and grasped hold of her hips, thrusting a little faster then he was before, his stomach muscles tensing.

He then took hold of her hair, twisting his fingers in the messy braid before he slowly pulled her backwards, her back colliding with his sweaty chest.

Aemond held Valaena tight too him as he fucked her, his cock reaching deep inside her.

“Give it to me ñuha zaldrīzes” pleaded Valaena her head lolling back onto Aemond’s shoulder (My dragon).

“Give me another-come for me again” whispered Aemond as he slid his hand over her stomach and used his long fingers to stroke her pearl.

“Oh-yes-oh” moaned Valaena as her peak suddenly erupted, her hands tangling in Aemond’s hair as she pulled him in for a messy kiss.

Aemond could feel the tension building in his abdomen again, as he thrust his cock inside her.

“I want you to come on my cock again, but not like this-” muttered Aemond as he once again withdrew from her wet heat and laid on the blankets.

“-Aemond” exclaimed Valaena breathlessly.

“Ride me baby” replied Aemond as he manoeuvred Valaena on top of him.

His hand moving to his cock, rubbing it along her folds before she sunk down and completely engulfed him.

“Oh” gasped Valaena as she rolled her hips against Aemond’s.

“That’s it ñuha nūmio, take it. Take all of me” (My pearl).

Aemond placed his hands on her hips and marvelled at his wife as she rode him.

Valaena dug her nails into Aemond’s chest as she moved her hips against his, his cock hitting the sweet spot inside her perfectly.

“A-Aemond” moaned Valaena as he moved his hands to her breasts, rolling her rosy nipples between his long fingers.

“Let go baby, I can feel you clenching around me again” exclaimed Aemond.

Valaena’s thighs began to burn, as she felt another climax approach.

“AEMOND” screamed Valaena.

“I’m going to fill you with my seed-”

“Y-yessss Aemond, I want it-I want you-” babbled Valaena as he moved her back onto the bed his cock never leaving her warmth as he moved inside her, chasing his own end.

“God. I love you- I love you-” groaned Aemond as he exploded. His cock throbbing and twitching as he finally spilled his seed.

Aemond jolted awake, his hand instinctively reaching for the space beside him, only to find it empty.

Blinking groggily, he scanned the dimly lit cabin. The fire had died down to embers, and the bed was colder than it should have been.

“Valaena?” he called softly, his voice thick with sleep.

No answer.

He glanced toward the door and noticed it was slightly ajar, moonlight spilling through the gap.

Quickly, he swung his legs out of bed and tugged on his breeches, his concern growing with each passing second.

He stepped outside into the cool night air, the soft sand of the beach shifting beneath his feet.

The sight of her standing near the shoreline brought a wave of relief. Valaena was wrapped in a fur blanket, her dark hair glinting in the moonlight.

Both Silverwing and Vhagar hovered nearby, their massive forms looming protectively, their eyes glowing faintly in the dark.

Aemond made his way to her, the sound of the waves lapping against the shore blending with the gentle rustle of the wind.

He slipped his arms around her from behind, pulling her against his chest. His chin came to rest on her shoulder, his warmth enveloping her.

“What are you doing out here at this time of night?” he murmured, his voice a mix of concern and tenderness.

Valaena leaned into his embrace, sighing softly. “I just felt a little nauseous,” she admitted. “I thought some fresh air might help.”

Aemond’s hand slid gently to her stomach, resting there with a protective warmth. “Is it the babe?” he asked, his voice low and soothing.

“Yes,” she replied, her tone laced with a faint weariness. “But I’m sure I’ll be fine soon.”

Aemond hummed in response, closing his eye and allowing the sound of the waves to wash over them.

He felt the gentle rise and fall of her breathing, her body relaxing slightly against his as the peaceful moment stretched between them.

After a few minutes, Valaena turned in his arms, her fur blanket still draped around her shoulders.

Her violet eyes searched his face, shimmering in the moonlight. “Will you love me, Aemond, until the day I die?” she asked softly, her voice almost a whisper.

Aemond’s expression softened, his gaze unwavering as he cupped her face. “No,” he said, his voice steady and filled with conviction. “Much longer than that, Valaena. Much longer than that.”

Her lips curved into a soft smile, tears glinting in her eyes as he leaned in, brushing her lips with his own.

The kiss was tender, timeless, and full of unspoken promises, as if it held the answer to every question the world might throw at them.

When they parted, Aemond pressed his forehead to hers, their breaths mingling in the cool night air.

Together, they turned to gaze out at the sea, their dragons at their side and the horizon stretching infinitely before them.

Whatever trials had come before, they had faced them together, and whatever lay ahead, they would face it the same way.

For in that moment, there was no animosity, no politics, no crown.

Just a man and a woman, their love as eternal as the stars that watched over them.

The End.

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