#one day i am going to make sun bread

[arkon-z]

Some of my favorite parts of worldbuilding:

inventing new idioms that reflect the culture and aren't just translations of the idioms we know

creating a language

new holidays

new cultural mannerisms and ideals so i'm not just writing another 'planet of hats' race

inventing new foods and then challenging myself to cook them with real ingredients

[cxnsolatio]

TAG DROP!!

CHARACTER & GROUP TAGS

✚ | ❝ you're standing in the wings ; there you wait for the curtain to fall ❞ { c / donquixote doflamingo }

✚ | ❝ silent screams laughing here ; dying to tell you the truth ❞ { c / donquixote rosinante }

✚ | ❝ not alone with a dream / just a want to be free ; with a need to belong / i am the clansman ❞ { c / monkey d. luffy }

✚ | ❝ teach me the art of war ; for i shall bring more than you bargained for ❞ { c / roronoa zoro }

✚ | ❝ but brutus wasn't kind / wasn't strawberries that were red ; he wasn't cutting bread ❞ { c / eustass kid }

✚ | ❝  just for a second a glimpse of my father I see ; and in a movement he beckons to me ❞ { c / usopp }

✚ | ❝ i see the ghosts of navigators but they are lost / as they sail into the sunset they'll count the cost ❞ { c / brook }

✚ | ❝ but a ghost lives in my veins ; silent the terror that reigned marbled in stone ❞ { c / sanji }

✚ | ❝ nowhere left to run ; navigator's son / chasing rainbows all my days ❞ { c / bepo }

✚ | ❝ face up ; make your stand / and realise you're living in the golden years ❞ { c / shachi }

✚ | ❝ say goodbye to gravity and say goodbye to death / hello to eternity and live for every breath ❞ { c / penguin }

✚ | ❝ can i tempt you? come with me / be devil may care ; fulfill your dream ❞ { c / ikkaku }

✚ | ❝ unknowingly blessed and as his life unfolds / slowly unveiling the power he holds ❞ { c / tony tony chopper }

✚ | ❝ you watch the world exploding every single night ; dancing in the sun / a newborn in the light ❞ { c / nico robin }

✚ | ❝ they dared to go, where no one would try / they chose to fly where eagles dare ❞ { g / straw hat pirates }

✚ | ❝ when it comes to the time are we partners in crime? when it comes to the time ; we'll be ready to die ❞ { g / heart pirates }

OTHER TAGS

✚ | ❝ and the ship it sinks like lead into the sea / and the hermit shrives the mariner of his sins ❞ { v / contemporary }

✚ | ❝ we fly a flag in some foreign earth ; we sailed away like our fathers before ❞ { v / ??? }

✚ | ❝ can i play with madness? the prophet stared at his crystal ball ❞ { crack }

[adw520]

cant sleep because i cant stop thinking about how the mechanic was a bit of an asshole to me for no reason when i got my car finally taken in

[darthteeth]

URGENT!!!Help Abdul Salam Al-Anqar and his family get through this war in Gaza!!!

(URGENT) THEY ARE AT €3,445 OUT OF €50,000 GOAL

I was asked by @nader5555 to make this, if u cannot donate please please share this post. Copy pasted from a message i was sent:

"Only a Few Hours Left Before We Enter Our First Year of War, Genocide, Starvation, and Displacement A Final Plea from the Heart of Hell: Save Us Before Hope Dies 💔🔥 I am Abdel Salam, and I have nothing left but words written by a trembling hand ✍️. The war has not only destroyed our lives; it has taken everything from us. Our home, which was once our refuge, is now a pile of rubble 🏚️.

My car, my only source of livelihood, was destroyed in a sudden strike 🚗, and the work that sustained us is now a distant memory 💼. Today, I live in an endless nightmare. Under a sun that burns everything in its path 🌞🔥, my family and I sit in a worn-out tent, a tent that shields us neither from the summer heat nor the winter cold ❄️. Insects 🦟 invade the place, diseases consume our bodies 🩺, and my younger siblings cry from hunger and thirst 🍞💧. We have no clean water or a crumb of bread to ease our hunger. Each passing day deepens the weight of this hell we live in.

My Daughter Eman is Dying from Malnutrition 😨 My daughter Eman suffers from malnutrition; I have nothing to feed or treat her with. The deterioration of her health is killing me slowly. Every glance in her eyes, every pain she endures, crushes my heart 💔. How can I explain to her that what was once our hope has now turned into nothing but a mirage? The Night Only Adds to Our Pain 🌙 The night does not bring us rest; it only adds to our pain. We sleep on hard ground, feeling the cold in every bone of our bodies 🥶, with nothing but pieces of cardboard 📦 to cover us. My wife Aya cries in silence 🥺 as she watches our daughter’s future fade before her eyes. My mother Eman suffers from illness and needs urgent medical care 🩺💊.

My Father Ahmed is Sick with Cancer and Needs Emergency Treatment My father Ahmed, who is sick with cancer, needs emergency treatment outside Gaza, and the cost of his treatment is at least $10,000, not including accommodation. As he suffers from severe pain, I cannot provide the treatment he needs due to our dire situation.

My Siblings Are in Constant Suffering ⚰️ My brother Omar was unable to continue his studies due to the situation. My brother Nader could not take his high school exams, and my younger brother Mohammad suffers from brittle bones and needs treatment we cannot afford. Every day we live brings us one step closer to the end. Death surrounds us from every side: if not from hunger 🍽️, then from illness 🦠. And if not from illness, then from the despair that devours our souls. Where is Humanity? Where is the World? 🌍💔 We want to leave the devastated Gaza Strip to escape the machinery of destruction and killing and the severity of hunger and poverty. The cost of travel for each person is $5,000, and we are a family of seven members, bringing the total cost to $35,000.

Where are the compassionate hearts? Are you waiting for us to disappear into the depths of this suffering? Are you waiting until death takes us before you act? We are drowning, and we don’t have enough strength to scream for help 🆘. Will you let this cry go unanswered? 😭 Your donation today is our last thread of hope. With the little support I received, I was able to buy a simple phone 📱 to reach out to you. But the bitter truth is that what I and my family need is much greater. We are not asking for much; just enough to save our lives from this hell 🔥. Every donation, no matter how small, could be the difference between life and death for us 👐. Don’t Let Us Disappear in the Darkness of Suffering 🌑 Don’t let our story end here. Be the light that guides us to salvation 🕯️✨.

With every tear, with every pain, I write this final plea to you, Abdel Salam."

taglist

@butchniqabi @xinakwans

@batekush

@appsa

@nerdyqueerr

@butchsunsetshimmer

@biconicfinn @stopmotionguy

@t4tvampireisms

@strangeauthor

@bryoria @shesnake

@legallybrunettedotcom

@lautakwah @sovietunion

@neechees @evillesbianvillain @antibioware

@akajustmerry @dizzymoods

@ree-duh @neptunerings

@explosionshark

@heritageposts

@ibtisams

@schoolteacher

[asunflowerana]

07:15 AM — Miya Atsumu

summary: you have plans with your family, but your clingy husband thinks otherwise.

The chip of birds visiting the orange trees outside gently awakens you. With your eyelids half open, you can see them through the bedroom window, the sun’s rays helping to clear the vision. You smile as you spot two brown ones with yellow bellies, chirping at each other as if in casual conversation.

You have been waiting for this Saturday. With your sister-in-law’s help, you finally set up a family picnic in the cherry tree square for today, accompanied by your husbands. It’s been a while since you last saw them, and now that you and Atsumu have returned from a vacation trip, it’s the ideal time to rejoin.

Tsumu tried to pretend he didn’t miss his brother, but everybody knows he’s the neediest twin. You even had to cook an onigiri in the middle of the Bahamas, just to quit his whines about the spicy food.

Now thinking of food, you remember you still need to pack the picnic basket. Knowing Osamu, he’ll bring a lot of homemade food — you’re already salivating with the thought —, but you still want to contribute with some snacks and drinks. Maybe bring a cool lemonade and mini croissants from the bakery across the street. Tsumu loves the bread there, especially those stuffed with cream cheese and ham.

You slowly lift your torso, supported by your elbows as you try to check out the time on the nightstand's clock. 07:00 AM. Alright, you now have fifty minutes to pack things, take a shower, get ready, and wake up your sleepyhead husband.

 Let's do this.

“No.” A pair of strong, familiar arms tighten around your middle, preventing you from leaving further.“Go back to sleep.”

There he is. Looking like a sleepy child, your husband snuggles into you, pressing his nose on the back of your neck. You can feel his calm breathing hitting your shoulder, and by the constancy, he’ll end up falling asleep soon again.

It’s amuzing how, even unconscious, he misses your presence.

His bear hold at least allows you to turn your body in his direction, facing the man you grow to love each day that passes by. You adore every single detail of him: his chubby cheeks pressed again the pillow, his disheveled blond hair, his thick eyebrows that look adorable when he frowns or raises in awe, and even his half-open mouth, a gap for the drool that slowly comes out of it.

Honestly, you could admire him for the rest of the day. 

But you need to go.

“Tsumu…” You murmur, pressing a kiss on his nose. “We need to get up, baby.”

He whines, tucking his head into the valley of your neck without breaking his grip on your body. You chuckle in response, preparing yourself to deal with his childish side. 

Sof lips are pressed into your skin. “No, we don’t.”

You sigh, hands making a path toward his scalp, and you start kneading his locks. “Yes, we do. We have a picnic with Samu and his wife today, remember?”

“Let’s ditch.”

You giggle at his proposal, and he raises his head to face you with a lazy smirk. Atsumu loves to make you giggle.

“G'mornin .” He mumbles flirty, getting closer to join your lips in a slow kiss, his warm hands caressing around the length of your back. There’s nothing better than a good morning kiss to start the day, that’s what he always says.

“Mornin’ baby.” You peck his lips one more time before parting, and he gazes at you with so much love, that you wonder if you’ve ever seen someone look like that to their partner. You lower your hand to caress his face, making him close his eyes in delight, leaning into your touch to enjoy the most of this heavenly feeling.

But his pleasure doesn't last long.

“Now, how about we get ready for the day?”

“Why do we have to go?” He complains with a frown paired with a small pout, pressing his forehead to yours.

“Because we haven’t seen them in a long time, baby. Don’t you wanna see your brother?”

“We’ve seen each other before, one more day won’t hurt anyone.” He protests, holding you closer and catching your lips in a stolen peck. “I want to be with you.”

“But we already spend every day together.” You counter.

“And that’s why I married ya. Now, can ya please let me enjoy my wife in peace?”

You can't hold back your laughter, not believing the husband you got, but accepting your defeat nonetheless, there’s no way you can beat Atsumu when he's like that.

And it's not that bad. Your original plan may be ruined, but in the end, you definitely won’t regret spending more time in your husband’s arms.

© asunflowerana 2024 — all rights reserved.

[judespoets]

𝙨𝙪𝙧𝙥𝙧𝙞𝙨𝙚 | 𝙟𝙪𝙙𝙚 𝙗𝙚𝙡𝙡𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙝𝙖𝙢

𝙨𝙪𝙢𝙢𝙖𝙧𝙮: you haven’t been feeling good. but what happens when jude connects the dots?

𝙥𝙖𝙞𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜: dad!jude x fem!reader

𝙬𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨: signs of vomit/ throwing up

You and Jude start your day early, around 6:30 AM. The sun is just beginning to rise, casting a gentle glow through the curtains of your cozy home in Madrid. You nudge Jude gently, the both of you smiling as you hear the soft murmurs of your two-year-old son, Caleb, waking up in the next room.

You slip out of bed, heading to the kitchen to start breakfast and prepare Caleb's lunch for nursery. The kitchen is warm and inviting, filled with the aroma of freshly brewed coffee. You expertly slice fruits, spread peanut butter on bread, and pack a healthy lunch for Caleb. Meanwhile, you hum a cheerful tune, occasionally glancing at the photos of your happy moments on the refrigerator.

Jude, still a bit groggy but smiling, makes his way to Caleb's room. He opens the door to find Caleb standing in his crib, wide-eyed and giggling with excitement. "Good morning, champ!" Jude says, scooping him up into his arms. He changes Caleb's diaper, tickling him slightly to keep the little boy's spirits high.

Once dressed, Jude helps Caleb into his favorite little football-themed outfit, a gift from one of his teammates.

They join you in the kitchen, where you had set out a nutritious breakfast for them.

Caleb babbles happily as you feed him pieces of fruit and yogurt.

Jude pours himself a cup of coffee, sharing a quick kiss with you and exchanging smiles filled with love.

"Good morning, my loves! Did you sleep well, Caleb?" You asked, smiling widely.

"Mornin', Mommy!“ was what Caleb babbled.

"He was so excited to wake up today. I think he knew it was nursery day." Jude told you, softly kissing the back of your hand

"He's been looking forward to seeing his friends. Here, let's get some breakfast in you both." You said as you started feeding Caleb again.

You sit at the kitchen table, Caleb in his high chair, eagerly reaching for his food.

You suddenly felt a wave of nausea wash over you. Putting your hand over your mouth lightly, trying to steady your breathing.

“You okay, baby?” Jude asked next to you, putting his hand on your thigh.

“I don’t know if just don’t feel so good right now.” You answered, looking at him.

“Okay, go lay down i’ll get Caleb ready don’t worry. Should I cancel training?” Jude asked you.

“No, no. It’s not an emergency. You go to training. You’ll take Caleb to nursery on your way, please? I’ll go lay down some more. Thank you babe.” You said, kissing Jude and Caleb, standing up and walking up the stairs with your slightly shaking legs.

“Come on, buddy. Let’s get you washed up and going.” Was the last thing you heard from downstairs before falling into a deep slumber under your sheets.

———

Jude turned the key in the lock, gently pushing open the door with Caleb in his arms. The house was shrouded in darkness, and he carefully navigated the familiar path to the living room, his eyes gradually adjusting to the dim light.

"Shh, buddy," he whispered to Caleb, who clung to him sleepily. "Looks like Mommy's still resting."

He set Caleb down, and the little boy toddled off to find his toys. Jude made his way to the bedroom, opening the door slowly to check on you. You were still curled up under the covers, your breathing deep and slow. He could see the pallor in your face even in the low light and felt a pang of concern.

Quietly, he backed out of the room, closing the door softly behind him. Back in the living room, Caleb had already begun to scatter his toys across the floor. Jude smiled tiredly at the sight, then headed to the kitchen.

He quickly prepared a simple dinner, heating up some soup he had made the night before. He wanted to keep it light for you, knowing you wouldn't have much of an appetite. Once everything was ready, he brought a tray to the bedroom, nudging the door open with his foot.

"(Y/N), love," he whispered, placing the tray on the nightstand. "I've got some soup for you."

You stirred, your eyes fluttering open. You gave him a weak smile. "Thank you, Jude. You didn't have to."

"Of course I did," he replied, sitting on the edge of the bed and brushing a strand of hair from your face. "How are you feeling?"

"Still not great," you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper.

Jude's heart ached seeing you like this. "Do you want me to call the doctor?"

"No, I think I just need to rest," you said. "Thank you for taking care of everything."

Jude leaned down and kissed your forehead. "I'll handle it. You just focus on getting better."

You gave a small nod, your eyes already closing again. Jude quietly left the room, closing the door behind him. Back in the living room, he found Caleb busy with his toys, his giggles a comforting background noise.

Jude settled on the couch, keeping one eye on Caleb and another on his phone, ready to call the doctor if your condition didn't improve. He found it weird since you’ve been fine this whole time.

Later, you descended the stairs slowly, your empty soup plate in hand.

You moved carefully, trying not to disrupt the fragile equilibrium you had maintained throughout the day. Your stomach churned uncomfortably as you approached the living room, where Jude and Caleb were playing.

Jude glanced up, his face lighting up with a smile that quickly faded into a look of concern when he saw your pallor.

"Hey, how are you feeling?" Jude asked, rising to meet you, his hand gently touching your arm.

You gave a weak smile. "Still not great. I thought the soup might help, but..."

Suddenly, a wave of nausea hit you, and you instinctively covered your mouth, your eyes wide.

The scent of something — perhaps a lingering whiff from Caleb’s snacks or Jude's cologne — made your stomach rebel.

Jude, noticing your distress, quickly ushered Caleb to his feet.

"Caleb, let's put away the toys for a bit, okay? Mommy needs some quiet time," he said, his voice calm but urgent.

Caleb, sensing the seriousness, nodded and began gathering his toys. Before Jude could turn back to you, you rushed to the nearest bathroom. Jude followed closely, his worry deepening as he heard you retching.

He found you kneeling by the toilet, pale and trembling. "I’m here, (Y/N)," he said softly, rubbing your back in slow, comforting circles. "It’s okay. Just let it out.

You groaned between bouts of vomiting, the smell that had triggered your nausea still lingering in your mind.

Finally, the retching subsided, and you slumped back against Jude, who handed you a glass of water he’d fetched from the sink.

“Thanks,” you whispered, your voice weak. “I don’t know what came over me.”

“Probably just a bug,” Jude said, helping you to your feet. “Let’s get you back to bed. You need to rest.”

You nodded gratefully, leaning on Jude as he guided you back upstairs, his concern for you evident in every careful step.

As Jude helped you back upstairs, his mind raced with worry. He laid you gently on the bed, arranging the pillows to make you comfortable. As he did, he noticed you wincing slightly, your face still pale.

"Baby, do you remember what smell made you feel so sick?" Jude asked gently, brushing a strand of hair away from your forehead.

You thought for a moment, your brow furrowing. "It was… I think it was the smell of Caleb's peanut butter sandwich. It just hit me all of a sudden."

Jude's eyes widened slightly as a thought crossed his mind.

He recalled the last time you had been this sensitive to certain smells. It had been when you were pregnant with Caleb. Could it be happening again?

"My Love," he began cautiously, "do you think there’s a chance you might be pregnant?"

You blinked, the question catching you off guard. "I… I don't know. I suppose it's possible. I’ve been feeling off for a few days now."

Jude nodded, his concern mingling with a glimmer of excitement. "Maybe we should get a test, just to be sure."

You managed a small smile, your hand resting on your stomach. "Yeah, I think that’s a good idea."

Jude squeezed your hand reassuringly. "I'll run to the pharmacy and get one. You just rest, okay?"

As you closed her eyes, Jude leaned down and kissed your forehead. He felt a mixture of worry and hope as he headed out the door, ready to find out if your family was about to grow.

Back in the living room, Jude quickly tidied up, clearing away the remnants of Caleb’s snack and any other potential triggers for your nausea. He found Caleb sitting quietly on the couch, sensing the unusual tension.

"Dad, Mommy okay?" Caleb asked, his big eyes filled with concern.

Jude knelt down beside him. "Mommy's not feeling well right now, buddy. I need to go out for a bit to get something that might help her feel better. Can you be a good boy and stay here quietly until I get back?"

Caleb nodded solemnly. "I can do that."

Jude gave him a reassuring hug before grabbing his keys and heading out. The drive to the pharmacy felt longer than usual, his mind racing with possibilities. Once he arrived, he quickly located a pregnancy test and made his way back home, his heart pounding with anticipation.

When he returned, he found you dozing lightly, your breathing steady. He set the test on the nightstand and gently woke you up.

"Baby, I got the test," he whispered, helping you sit up slowly. "Do you feel up to taking it now?

You nodded, your eyes meeting his with a mixture of anxiety and hope.

Jude helped you to the bathroom, steadying you with each step.

After a few moments, you emerged, the test in your hand.

"Now we wait," you said softly, your voice trembling slightly.

Jude wrapped his arms around you, holding you close as you sat on the edge of the bed.

"No matter what, we'll face it together," he whispered, kissing the top of your head.

You sat in silence, the seconds ticking by slowly. Finally, you glanced at the test, your eyes widening.

"Jude... it's positive," you breathed.

A flood of emotions washed over Jude as he hugged you tightly, tears of joy and relief mingling with the worry.

"We're going to be parents again," he whispered, his voice choked with emotion.

You smiled through your own tears, feeling a renewed sense of hope and strength. "Yes, we are."

You stayed like that for a while, holding each other.

[death---dealer]

koba x reader pls pls he doesn't get enough love compared to caesar

We love 1 ( One ) Bonobo on this Blog. I really hope this is good, I'm the worst with trying to pick apart new characters to write for AAAA.

Title: End Of Day. Fandom: Planet of the Apes. Pairing: ( Slightly, just a tease haha. ) Implied Koba x Reader. Words: 3K+ ( How? I don't know don't ASK ME. ) Rating: T ( Mentions of aggression, animal abuse. ) Summary: Your favorite thing to do? Annoy Koba. ( I am bread crumbing here. Someone eat my bread crumbs and ask for MORE. )

●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・●・○・

Koba was sure to make sure you knew your place. From the moment you stepped into the Colony, with every move you gave, every word you either said or signed, every breath you took was accounted for, almost painstakingly so. It wasn’t your fault you were found by Caesar’s army, half dead and dragged back, nursed to health by some lovely Chimps wearing intricate face masks, that in your heated haze of injury, looked remarkably like medical masks.

It wasn’t your fault that Caesar offered you refuge after you explained the circumstances that left you almost dead; you were turned on by your fellow group of Humans for expressing the opinion that maybe… The Apes were not so bad, maybe they were just trying to survive much like you all were. Bad choice of opinion to have in a group of people who were terrified of the sun. Rather than just letting you out with you opinions, they ended up beating you to a bloody pulp, taking all the things you had scavenged for, and left you in the woods. Fear made Humanity turn against itself, and that was your clear cut example. 

So, that’s how you found yourself where you sat. Perched rather comfortably in front of the fire of the Colony, taking in grace the way that the flames roared in front of you. You could see Caesar and Maurice from your position, signing away without any caution. What were they talking about? You had no idea, the heat from the fire resulted in the warping of the air around you and the signing looked blurred. You had just wrapped dinner up, enjoying the regular assortment of Fall dishes.

Some fish, an Elk caught by Caesar’s hunting party earlier in the day, more nuts than there were berries; just a circumstance of the weather. All things you enjoyed, but not as much as you enjoyed antagonizing your favorite Bonobo. Tilting your head at that thought, you took a moment to glance around the Colony. Speaking of the devil, Koba was nowhere in sight. He usually sat himself along with Caesar and company for meals, taking in some refuge to talk about strategies about the human camps that were too close to the Colony. Koba always suggested just attacking. Caesar always shot him down.

Koba would then look at you like Caesar’s reasoning was solely your fault. You’d stare back at him, unnerved and knowing that if he were to do anything to suggest harm to you, Caesar’s fist would come down on him again. Metaphorically, of course. Apes together are strong, apes do not kill apes. 

If you could record the interactions between Caesar, Koba and yourself, it would make for some good Reality TV. You laughed at that to yourself, knowing that no one else around you was going to understand unless you explained in detail what you were talking about. You had patience for many things, but explaining brain-rotting TV to the Colony was not on your bingo-card, at least this evening.

Shifting your body just a bit, you pulled the sleeves of your shirt down to encase your forearms and let your eyes trail back around so you were looking at Caesar and Maurice again. The Orangutan must have noticed your stare, giving you a slight gesture with the move of his head. Smiling at him, you fell pensively into the flames in front of you and how they moved. Admittedly, there wasn’t much to do when you were by yourself, when Koba wasn’t around. He was seated drama for you, and at least you got the pleasure of communicating verbally when with him, even if it was all aggression and arguments. You recalled in almost vivid detail your first spark of aggression from him. It wasn’t the absolute mad-dog stares he gave you when you finally emerged from the medic portion of the Colony. Or when you sat for the first communal dinner, not sure of the etiquettes. You imagined he complained to Caesar the entire dinner about your mere presence. Oh, no no. He avoided you deviously then, and tried his best to do that going forward. Out of sight, out of mind for Koba though he admittedly found himself a bit obsessed with the hatred he had for you. It was all humans, but now it was streamlined to just you for the time being. 

You were placed in a delicate situation of circumstances. The streamline had to have started when you accidentally mistook him for a Chimpanzee. The absolute animosity as he went off the rails, telling Caesar things like how stupid you were to not know the difference, how you didn't belong there, how you were too human for any of them and needed to know your place and that Caesar needed to do something about you before you tore down the Colony with ignorance. 

It was an honest mistake, you tried to explain in the moment. It wasn’t your fault once again that… Chimpanzees and Bonobos looked remarkably similar. The only times you had seen either were in Zoos when your were a child! Koba did not look too kindly on either and absolutely tore into you in broken English and a few signs at the mention of a Zoo falling from your lips. A place, to him in his resolute mind, that meant nothing but torture and was just a means to keep them in cages, away from actually experiencing life, only getting glimpse from the hands of humans. He hated it, he hated how loosely you had talked about it. He hated you. You were tentative to leave the conversation, more offended than anything at the fact that he got angry at your ignorance and didn't even offer the chance for you to explain yourself or apologize. 

You apologized to Caesar later that night after dinner, who took the apology as sincere and who gave you a bit of insight about Koba as a piece of mind; sensing that maybe you needed the information to make your own judgment about his friend and not just ones based on pretenses. The years he spent in facilities after what happened with his mother and caretaker from the TV stunt he did. He was literally being tortured again and again at the expense of Humanity's gross negligence and sadistic curiosities. Caesar explained his scars - all of them against his arms, legs, his face and his eye. 

With each word the Ape King told you, your heart sank a bit more in empathy. No creature, as nefarious as Koba acted or not, deserved such things and it opened a door for you to be a bit more accepting and understanding that his bias towards Humans, towards you, were rooted in deep fear and alienation. Caesar told you to never take what Koba said to heart, Koba was bred to fear, bred to run from any notion that Humans could be good and nothing you were going to do or say would save him from that. You nodded in quite understanding to Caesar. 

And that’s how you fell into your enjoyment of annoying him. You had tried to be kind to him multiple times with no avail, each time mentally beating yourself up at the fact that Caesar had warned you that goodwill was not going to be reciprocated or appreciated. So, you began to give it back to him just as hard as he gave to you. It was a fun game, most of the time. Koba usually got caught by your bitter remarks towards him and he’d stand down before aggression really bubbled to the surface and he’d do something to garner the wrath of Caesar. Instead, you opted into the enjoyment of staring at each other during breakfast, mid-day meals when they happened, and dinner. You found it mildly endearing the way that he complained to Caesar that things around the Colony were starting to smell like humans. Starting to smell like you. 

You chuffed at that and smelled your sleeve. It smelt like the creek you washed it in. You had no idea what that comment was about. You were just as smelly as the rest of them, actually more than you really cared to admit, for your own tastes but that was down to the Simian Flu taking the advantages of showers and soap from you. If he was going to say something mean, he needed to do it about something you had no control over and that’s how you ultimately kept yourself rather level headed in the game you had going with Koba. He took offense to your personal issues without really knowing the deeper meaning, if there even was one.

Every step you took was full of intent to Koba. Every blink you had was full of malice to Koba. Every breath you made was just the worst to Koba. It meant you were still alive. All everyday activities were scrutinized, and you just had to laugh at that. How much he despised you to the point of obsession. You’d joke around with him and imply that maybe he didn't hate you, that maybe he actually really liked you, but that was taking it a bit too far and you wondered if that was going to be the straw to break the camel's back, to get him to actually lurch at you out of defense. The sun had set at least half an hour ago, your back now feeling the chill as the brisk air of the ocean came rolling over the land. Always at the same time of day during the Fall, always right at bed time and you found yourself wrapped in many pelts just to cope. Maybe he got busy, you thought to yourself and began willing your body to get enough energy tohead back to the nest that Caesar was so gracious to offer you for as long as you wanted to stay. A voice absolutely tore you from whatever state of consciousness you were floating around in, reminiscing about when you arrived, thinking longingly about the things you left behind from the Flu… Whatever they said, you made the assumption that they were not talking to you. Why would they? You were just minding your own little--- Ah, the voice spoke again, you noticed the gruff nature, the harshness inflicted into each of the words. Koba. And he was asking you what you were still doing out, sitting by the fire. You really had no excuse and looked over your shoulder at him, raising an eyebrow at wonderment at where he had been for dinner. You had no entertainment.

“I’m sorry, I can’t hear what you’re asking me over your loud breathing sounds.” You were referencing the huffing he often had around you, the anger palpable from his body at the release of your comment. He sauntered towards you, your internal primal instinct being that of fear but you just peered up at him when he was right next to you, arms apart in defense, legs holding himself to look larger, more intimidating. It surely worked, the gait he used coming towards you put your heart into a skip and it felt like it was sitting in your throat with realization.

You’d never been alone with Koba- you always had your buffer. Caesar, usually, had the easiest time taking his friend down from the ledge, but Maurice has taken his due diligence, as well as Blue Eyes when Koba said something about you he didn't agree with, who very much like his father, told you not to take anything Koba said about you seriously. “Caesar…” You narrowed your eyes as he began to speak, already aware that his one good eye was more than good enough to see you in impeccable detail despite the only light source being from the bonfire that was slowly dying. “Has you waiting for Koba?” “I’m honored you think I’m waiting for you.” Rolling your eyes at the audacity of his statement, you stood up. He was only an inch or so taller than you when he was bi-pedal, but the fact that he was pure muscle as compared to your very slinky form of human was enough to give you a slight pause as you considered sizing him up teasingly. He’d probably think it was a real threat from you and tear your face off. Quickly, you decided against it and muttered to him, “Move. I want to go to sleep.” He didn't. You sighed, rolling your eyes again and tried to move past him but with every step you took to the side, he followed suit. You didn't have any excuse to wait for him by the fire--- IF!! That was what you were doing, which it definitely was not. You simply lost track of time and didn't move. Good justification, you patted yourself on the back and looked at the Bonobo in front of you.  A part of your heart shifted. You had been close to him plenty of times, usually when he charged at you before Caesar had to tell him to back off. But, now, this close and without any movements, you really got a good look at his face and how… How almost sad he looked. 

The scarring on his face against his natural skin was jarring, so bleak and faded from years, his bad eye was ghosted with white but you swore it was looking right into yours with the intensity of his gaze. The fragment of empathy you always had towards him surfaced. You felt a tiny urge to reach up and lightly trace th--- Oh my GOD what were you thinking? You blinked that thought right out of your mind and stared at him again, focusing on the expression of his face rather than the minute details. It was perpetually as grumpy as ever, his expression. But it was often capsized by a look of anger or annoyance, depending on how he felt that. Anger when you said or did something stupid, annoyance when you were just hanging around for no reason. In this case? A little bit of both, but more annoyance. Swallowing softly, you felt your fingers twitch as Koba’s gaze pierced you like a thousand knives.. “Why are you so late?” You muttered finally, your breath expanding onto his face from the mere proximity. Koba scoffed at you, now returning you the absolute pleasure of having his breath in your face before dropping to all fours and heading to the left to pick some food before bed. Your eyes followed his movements, always mean and hard, but maybe that’s just how he felt he needed to hold himself after what he had been through. “Not… Human business.” That was a fair and valid point, and in most instances, you would leave it alone but you decided to push, having not gotten enough stimulation from him during the day. “Well, we really missed your cheery attitude. I had to eat all by myself, no Koba staring longingly at me.” There was sarcasm leaking through every pore of your being. Koba bit into an apple; his canines shone in the light of the flames of his action. The bite he took was large, chewing just as roughly as he had bitten into the fruit. “Had... things to do.” “Like what? Bring me with you next time so I can start to annoy you on your outings. I get bored here.” Koba growled ever so slightly. He didn't like being questioned by anyone, especially by you. It felt oddly like an interrogation. And the suggestion? He’d rather gouge out his other eye than take you with him, anywhere. Well, not that… He’d take you with him. If it meant he could beat you to an inch of your life, his fists taking relished silence in how they’d crush your ribs, how they’d beat you to submit to him, how he’d bring your face closer by holding your hair and make you admit all your ignorant human mistakes. Submit, submit! That idea lingered in his brain before he forced it back out. No, no. He did not want you to submit like you had submitted to Caesar, a topic of conversation that Koba did not enjoy. A topic of conversation that Caesar denied, being in any sort of advancements with you, being intimate with you. Koba was just making accusations to get you to go away. 

“No.” You tilted your head at his answer, the fact that he didn't give you anything snappy in return like he so often did before he turned, picking a few more pieces of fruit up and trailed away. You watched him in shattered silence. He had to be up to something, you figured as his figure disappeared into the darkness, towards the nest he had made for himself so many years ago. You wanted to follow out of loneliness, now left to your own devices for the rest of the night but you stopped yourself. He’d probably bark at you for following… Tell you to back off, maybe even snarl at you in the typical Koba fashion. But, he wouldn’t do anything, Caesar would make sure of it. He’d sit in petulant aggravation as you bothered him about the details of your day. You thought about that and weighed your options. A few seconds later, your feet were pattering on the ground as you followed him, talking once Koba was in range of your hearing. You could see his shoulder tense, figuring he was out of the woods with your relentless chattering. He never understood that about humans, how absolutely grating the small talk was. In fact, Koba sometimes took solace in the mere idea of ripping your lips off. Then you couldn’t talk back, couldn’t ask him things, couldn’t address him. He liked that idea. He liked that idea a lot. He didn't bother to turn towards you as you trailed next to him, Koba’s feet taking him a few steps ahead of you. He’d refuse to walk side by side with you as he took to leading.

 “Seriously though--- Where were you today?” Koba growled in frustration at the sound of your voice. Yes. Very, very annoying the concept of small talk with humans. With you.

[hoes4lino]

🍓 Fields 🍓 | LMH

WARNING ⊂✦⊃ This story contains nsfw content as well as mentions of alcohol; minors please don’t interact, please beware of what you consume online.

Genre: College au, fluff, angst

Summary: He was madly in love, she just wanted to live in peace. What happens when one of the most popular guys in college falls in love with the dork who no one knows?

Word Count: 23.5k

Reading Time: approx 2hrs

Authors Note: In this fic I’m combining two of my favorite things in this world… soccer and leeknow ^•^ y’all should know that Im a hoe for romantic fics, so this was enjoyable to write even though it took me many sleepless nights to finish this. This is my first time writing such a long story, so hope you enjoy!!! <3

It was 3 am and you were already feeling today wasn’t going to be a good day. It all started when you abruptly woke up from what was supposed to be a 30-minute nap, just to look at the clock and realize it was 1:07 am… you overslept 6hrs since you got home.

All sweaty and thirsty, you brag yourself out of bed and opened the shower, while letting the cold water adjust to a warmer temperature you opened your Macbook to check what assignments you had to do for the day.

You internally cursed yourself as you blankly stared at the assignment, <what if I say my grandma died> you thought, as you tried to find a reasonable excuse to give your professor. You had no problem in speedrunning a few designs, however knowing your teacher you rather do nothing than give him some sloppy drawings <he is going to kill me> you cried <thats it, Im failing, im never graduating> as thoughts filled your head, you heard a notification pop in your phone, startling you.

Hello Cornell University!

Today we love to announce the beginning of autumn sports! Please join us tomorrow at the field for the first soccer game of the year!

Go Bears! 🐻❤️

You scoff at the notification. Since you moved for college, you didn’t take the time to make friends or meet any new people in general, you missed Korea and even though you were now at your dream college, you didn’t feel like you fit in here, the cultures were just too different and it made you feel off place, you didn’t like the people here, none of them seem to have manners or have some sense of respect towards others everyone was self-centered, the thing that made you scared to talk to others. You decided to go unnoticed and just stick to the friendships you had back in Korea. Although pulling up to the game and meeting a few people didn’t sound bad, you were a very passionate soccer fan, and meeting people with the same interest sounded exciting.

— — —

It was now 6 am, you had your first class at 8:45 am, and you finished doing your designs although they weren’t your best you were proud of how decent they looked, you grabbed the pieces of paper and placed them carefully into your folder trying to keep them at neat as possible, you thought of making yourself a cup of coffee, however, you decided to take a nap before your class started.

The way the sun rays gently touched your face and the birds sang beautiful background melodies was a warning that you were late to class. Eyes fully opening in panic when you read on the clock that it was now 8:28 am, you had about 12min to get to your class, quickly putting on a denim skirt, some Adidas forum, and a cute top, you rushed to grab your bag and left the dorm running. While running through the now-empty hallways with a piece of bread in your mouth, you brushed your hair and sprayed some perfume on yourself, trying to get yourself as decent as possible. As you were about to turn a corner you crashed with a firm body on the other side, making you stumble and crash yourself onto the floor.

Ashamed of yourself you just stood up and continued running, giving you the curiosity to know who that was and what they said while you left running. Luckily you made it to your class, maybe 5 or 8 minutes late but your teacher was the type to give you a few minutes to settle before he started his lesson in the morning. The class was going by pretty fast you were already in your 3rd period of the day, you went to your architecture class and your professor was impressed with your designs, you explained to him that you rushed through them, however, he seemed to have taken it in a good way.

"It’s ok y/n, I just graduate from college as well, I'm also a victim of procrastination" he whispered as he left a breathy chuckle, in that moment you realized Mr. Hyunjin and you had an age gap of 4 yrs, you two were pretty much alike, if he was your classmate he would be your best friend. At that moment you wondered how he got his teaching degree that fast "However, please do your drawings in time, although this is amazing I can see some of the lines are a little sloppy" he grinned at you as he handed back your drawings "I will Mr. Hawng" you grabbed your stuff; as you were about to leave when he stopped you once again in your tracks "Y/n, you should go to the soccer game today, its a big event and I have noticed you haven’t adapted yet to the environment" you slowly nodded as you gave him a small grin "I will think about it".

You thought of the proposal as you walked to your engineering class, everyone was talking about the game, was our team that good or was it just full of pretty faces and popular boys? Guess we will have to find out at the game. Your thoughts are abruptly interrupted when someone decided to sit next to you, you usually sit alone in this class so you would lie if you said you didn’t feel nervous "Look its miss hit and run" You blink confused a couple of times as you stare at the brunette boy sitting next to you, his cat-like eyes, sharp nose, and plump lips made your heart skip a beat <Is this man-made by the greek god's wtf> he scoffed as you didn’t say anything back at him "thanks to you I was late to my morning class" he rolled his eyes, you could feel your cheeks turning bright red at the embarrassment "I’m so sorry, I was running late to my class" you mumbled as you tried to hide your face in between your books, he scoffed once again. The rest of the class was spent in uncomfortable silence, both of you were working on whatever assignment the professor assigned, however, you couldn't ignore the glances he would give you from time to time.

The bell rang and you tried to leave as soon as possible, quickly packing up your stuff "Do you have Instagram?" he asked before you could get up, he wants your insta? hell no... no one from here followed you and honestly you didn't want them to find your user either "I don't use social media, sorry" With that you left as fast as you could, to you those words meant nothing, for Minho that was like a dagger stabbing his heart, he knew you used Instagram he saw you on the app during the class, that's why he went for it and asked you, second, you have no idea how much courage it took him to ask for it. Minho is not the type of guy to be nervous around a girl however with you… it felt different.

— — —

Once school was over, you went to the nearest Starbucks and got yourself your favorite refresher, however, you couldn't help to ignore the group of girls in there, they clearly went to Cornell as they proudly wore the red hoodie with the mascot on it, they were probably going to the game, however, they seemed to be talking about you "She is the girl I saw Minho with today at class" a blond girl whispered with a tone of disgust "What are the chances of Minho fucking her?" a brunette girl replied, making one of the girls hysterically laugh "Girls lets be for real, look at her and now look at me" She paused as they examined you "You think Minho would downgrade that bad" she said in a sassy tone "hmm I dunno Vanessa... she is pretty solid, and definitely top of my class" the blond girl was quickly hushed as she saw the glare of her friend "Angie if you don't learn how to shut the fuck up, I will kick your ass" <Lord please get me out of here> you thought, as the girls kept gossiping behind you, you don't know what the deal with Minho is, but you definitely didn't want to do something with him, he just sat next to you for a class and now you got people gossiping about you? worse to say, they thought you two fucking? "Y/N" the Starbucks employee yelled, taking you out of your thoughts, you grabbed your drink and left, noticing how that little friend group looked at you up and down, maybe today was a bad day to wear a denim skirt, people will think you a hooker or something. "y/n... so that's her name," Vanessa said under her breath as she watched you walk away.

On your way home you couldn't forget the interaction at Starbucks and wonder who were these girls and why were they targeting you, knowing that you were a topic of conversation at the moment made you sick to your stomach. As you pass by the campus you can hear all the cheering and music coming from the field, tempting you to take a small peak at the game. When you got closer you hid somewhere in between the bleachers and watched, what felt like 10 minutes turned into watching the whole game, but what can you say both teams were competitive and it felt like watching a world cup final. People started to leave and you decided to wait for all of them to leave, you wanted to wander around the field once everyone left. Minutes pass and it was starting to get dark, the field seemed to be now empty so you left your hiding spot and walked around it while listening to "Good Days" by sza. The music instrumental combined with the beautiful scenery of the field with the vanishing sunset gave you a feeling of euphoria, captured by the scene as you stare at it mesmerized, you didn't acknowledge the presence approaching you.

"Fancy meeting you here" Startled by the sudden voice, your instinct was to throw hands, quickly throwing the refresher you had in your hand with half its content in it. The juice splashed all over the boy's face, leaving him with shock showing in his face. "I- I'm sorry," you stare at him scared "I swear I didn't mean to, you just appeared and..." You were quickly hushed as he opened his eyes, looking at you with pure anger "You just dirtied my shirt" he said in annoyment "I have another game tomorrow" he sighed in frustration "Give it to me, I have a washing machine and a dryer at my dorm, let me wash it for you" your voice stuttering here and there, unlike you Minho was enjoying this, seeing the way your eyes trembled and the way you tried to collect yourself to solve this more professionally "Ok, then..." he paused as he was about to take his shirt right there "WAIT" you stop him, your hands grabbing his forearms as you pulled them down with the shirt "Don't take your shirt here" you flustered "Just follow me to my dorm, it will take 30 minutes max and you can clean yourself" you suggested, you just wanted to be done with the shirt incident and never seen him ever again.

— — —

The walk to your apartment had to be the most awkward moment of your whole life. Once the two of you reached your door, you realized the type of person you were dealing with "Hope your roommate doesn't get the wrong idea when I get in" he said in a rather suggestive tone while he glare at you with a smirk, you sighed "I don't have a roommate, I rather live alone in silence" you said annoyed opening the door, making him chuckle "That's some valuable information right there" he said as he closed the door and quickly took his shirt off "where is your bathroom, so I can take a quick bath" you turn around to give him the directions when you were surprised with his honey-toned chest and flat stomach <Lord almighty> it seemed that after all you were right when you said he was built by the greek gods, however, you knew the game he was playing and you were def not forming part of it, so you shook all those thoughts away and took him to your bathroom, where you also explained to give how the washing machine worked and with that, you left him in there.

Now in your mind, you were recreating every single moment of your day. First, you crash into someone this morning, that someone being Minho, one of the most handsome guys you have ever seen, captain of the soccer team, popular and most likely a fuck boy based on the gossip of those girls at Starbucks, and now he is in your house... taking a bath... things can't get any worse at that moment if you told your friends they would swear you are creating some type of kdrama shit in your little delusional head, however, all this was real... which made you sick.

You stood up from your couch with a sigh, deciding to switch to more comfortable clothes and start your assignments, while you waited for Minho to leave. Going to your room you picked up a pink spaghetti strap tank top and your favorite silk white shorts accompanying it with fluffy socks and your pink slide slipper, then you left the room and made your way to the kitchen, reheating some leftover Gimbap from the previous night.

"Ahhh~" Minho teases "So this is what it would feel like dating you, taking a shower after a rough day, to find you in your little pajamas warming up some food for us" At that moment you couldn't focus on his words, as he was getting closer to you with his wet brunette hair and wearing nothing but a towel... YOUR TOWEL... Once he was a couple of inches apart from you, you looked into his eyes and started laughing, at that moment you didn't know if you were laughing at his words, at the whole situation, or out of nervousness.

"And here I thought I was delusional" you chuckle relaxing "Also what are you doing with MY towel" You emphasize the word as he looks down to stare at it "I gave you another one, you were supposed to use that one... not mine," you say in frustration, now you will have to wash it, the water bill was looking crazy at that moment "I liked the texture of this one better, plus I also liked the scent" you scoff at his words and took your food out of the microwave "Whatever, just dress up and leave my house," you said as you pushed him away of your way and sat on your comfy couch, placing your food on the coffee table and picking up the tv remote "So you are just going to let me go like that?" he said with a dumbfounded face, you look at him confused "ermm... yeah? you are only here cause I spilled my drink on you, don't abuse the invite, I could have hit and run like I did this morning" you said as you blankly passed the channels on the tv.

He scoffed, at that moment he didn't know why he felt disappointed, as if he was hoping for more, for you to invite him and have a bite of your food, an invite to sit there with you and watched whatever shitty show you were watching, he walked to the bathroom and took his cloths out of the dryer, he dressed up and even though he was ready, he didn't want to leave that bathroom cause that meant leaving your house.

The reality was that he had been liking you since freshmen year, the moment he saw you at the welcoming party was like you caught his mind, since then he's been in denial of accepting his crush on you. He knew you were shy and that you were good at drawing, he always paid attention to every little single detail of you, he would often find himself looking for you in crowded places knowing that you hated them, he hated every single thing about being in love with you, yet he always craved being loved by you; in the inside, he wanted to worship you, have you in his arms every morning, cook your favorite meals, go on silly dates with you... he would party and fuck around to see if you would leave his mind someday... yet he was never lucky, the only thing that would clear his mind was soccer, he loved the adrenaline, the intensity, and the beauty of the sport, in his head he would often compare his love for soccer with his love for you, the only difference was that one was more realistic than the other.

When he caught you today mesmerized with the field, he felt like you stole his heart for a second time, the way your eyes shined under the sunset, the way the breeze moved your hair, and the way your smile brought warmth to his heart, he felt like it was the day to do something about it, get closer to you. The moment you offered him to come to your dorm, his heart was beating so fast, he has never been this nervous before, and yes maybe he has been in a bunch of girl's dorms before but for some reason, yours just felt special.

He stepped out of the bathroom with a heavy heart, ready to say his goodbyes and leave your life for once, however, he didn't expect to find you knocked out on the couch, the sight of you sleeping peacefully made his heart skip a beat, making him mad at himself for being this down bad. He slowly walked to your sleepy figure, he grabbed a fluffy blanket you had on the couch and wrapped it around you. The next thing he remembers he was on his knees analyzing your face, he has never been this close, and the temptation to kiss your plump lips was bigger than anything, however, he held himself and instead planted a sweet peck on your cheek, with a smile on his face he made sure to leave quietly.

— — —

The next morning you slowly opened your eyes and sat on the couch, you blink a couple of times trying to remember what happened last night, the tv was off and you had a blanket on top of you... <When did Minho leave?> You ask yourself, due to the tiredness you don't remember a single thing. It was a Friday morning, and you had no plans for the rest of the day as you didn't have any lectures till the afternoon, however, you hated staying at your dorm the whole day so you decided to get ready and go for a refresher and then to the library. Today you decided to go with a simple purple sundress and your white Converse accompanied with a white tote bag.

You would lie if you said you didn't feel self-aware the moment you walked through the campus, a bunch of eyes staring at you, confused you tried asking someone around you what was going on, however, you were too scared to approach someone.

"So are you the girl Lee Minho was lucky to pull or is he just a pass time?" a girl with blond hair and lovely eyes said as she approached you "Excuse me?" you raised an eyebrow "I'm sorry, it's just that rumor is spreading like a wildfire" she chuckled while she gave you a warming smile "I'm rosé" she extended a hand in front of you "I'm y/n" you shook her hand while smiling "ermm do you mind telling me what this rumor is about? I'm really confused" she chuckled "Of course, let's go get something to drink first" she smiled grabbing your hand.

"So there is this girl Vanessa and her group of minions," she said while she proceed to take a sip of her drink "She is Minho's ex, however, she seems to not let him go" She paused "He dated her out of pity, she would always go around bugging him all day until he gave in, they broke up because she got jealous of the female soccer managers and threw a fit that expelled Minho from soccer finals... They still hook up from time to time when Minho loses his mind with the alcohol" She rolled her eyes and laughed "And about your rumor..." She pulled her phone out of her pocket and opened Twitter to show you a thread made by Angie one of Vanessa's minions.

"Angie saw you and Minho together after the game... she also saw how he was about to take off his shirt right there" She cringed as she showed you the video Angie took from a long distance... at that moment you could understand the rumor as in all honesty, it did seem like you two were about to hook up.

"That's a misunderstanding, he scared me so I threw my drink at him..." you mumbled, "Well... it doesn't end like this..." She then pulled a second video of you two walking to your dorm at night <Oh Jesus... People think we fucked> your eyes opened in panic... you went from no one to a hot topic in two days... "Yeah... but don't worry, Minho always handles these types of rumors" She reassured you "He is my brother's best friend, so I know what happened" She caressed your arm to ease your nerves "Thank you rosé" You smile "Don't worry I got you, also you can call me Rosie" She grinned at you, her pearly white teeth showing, she was truly gorgeous.

"Do you mind who is your brother, I have never seen you around... but that might just be cause I don't know anyone here" You took a sip of your refresher "My brother is Lee Felix, we like inseparable" You could tell she admired her brother by the way her eyes light talking about him "We have seen you around, but girl you are unreachable, matter many people have been trying to approach you, but everyone is intimidated by you" She laughed.

"That's why everyone calling Minho a lucky bitch, you have no idea how many people would kill for you" When you heard those words your mind went blank... do people think that about you? at that moment you felt mad at yourself for isolating yourself when you could be out there having fun with new people. "There's gonna be a party tomorrow night, be there or be square," The blond girl said as she stared at you with lovely eyes, after that you two talked until you had to leave for your class, today you could say you made your first friend ever.

— — —

It was around 8 pm that same Friday when you spotted Minho, peacefully walking with his headphones on, you slowly approached him to confront him about the rumor "Hey" you touched his shoulder giving him a warm smile, he froze at your sudden apparition "Miss me already?" he said with a smug face "No, I want to talk about the rumor... I talked with this girl Rosé and she told me you usually deny these rumors so-" You were interrupted when he started laughing "Why would I deny it? it's just an innocent rumor we both know it's not real and that should be enough" You couldn't believe your eyes at that moment, the audacity he had to say he wouldn't do it... that was an innocent rumor, you scoff "I'm sorry... innocent rumor? People out there think we fucked" you scoff once again "Ok and? what's the big deal if you know it's not true" his body stiffed as he stood straight glaring down at you.

"You don't know how it feels walking into a place and having a bunch of people talking behind your back? calling you a whore, a pass time?" you crossed your arms and looked around trying to remain calm.

"Knowing Im the hot topic of the day because of you makes me sick" your tone raising without you noticing "You are making a big deal out of nothing y/n" It was Minho's turn to raise his voice, he was about to say something when he got interrupted. "Y/n everything alright?" you turn to see Mr. Hwang "Oh Mr. Hwang" you nervously laughed "Everything alright, thanks for asking" he gave you a charming smile making Minho want to puke right there "I wanted to talk to you about something, do you have a minute? he asked ignoring Minho, which pissed him off even more "yeah sure" you smiled "Let's go to my classroom then," he said and you obediently followed him completely forgetting about Minho. He stood there, body burning in jealousy.

Minho needed to clear his mind, he didn't want anger to control his feelings, but every time he remembered the way that guy talked to you and even the way he looked at you, made him wanna punch his guts, he knew you weren't his but he wanted you all to himself and that's how he ended up in the soccer field kicking the ball as hard as he could and running as fast as he could until his legs gave up.

The roller coaster of emotions drove him insane as he ran behind the ball, thinking that you might like that guy was his final stroke as his legs gave up and he landed on the soft grass of the field, tears rolling down his eyes as he couldn't understand why he felt this way towards someone he barely knew. After he lay on the grass blankly staring at the stars for like an hour he decided to try and let you go, he grabbed his phone and Tweeted that the rumor was fake and to leave you alone, he threw his phone beside him and closed his eyes.

— — —

The next day you noticed Minho publicly denied the rumor, you felt so grateful to him, a warm smile adorning your face, and you kept it a mental note that you would thank him if you saw him.

The party was today and you doubted if you should go or not but after talking with your best friend Eunchae, she convinced you to go and that's how you find yourself wearing a silk black dress with a slit and your favorite heels, for the jewelry you went with a pearl necklace and long gold earrings and for makeup you went with something natural but cute, once your hair was done you grabbed a small bag and left your dorm.

At the party you meet up with Rosé, who you quickly lost as she joined her brother and a couple of other friends, they all disappeared into the crowded place filled with warm bodies, you weren't ready for all the chaos yet; so you made your way to the bar to get a few drinks and maybe lose up enough to start dancing with people, you were feeling yourself for the first time in years, you never thought you would enjoy this; but at that moment you felt that enjoy was not enough to describe how much you were loving this party.

The taste of the bitter alcoholic drink you were consuming plus the music and neon lights of the club made you feel as if everything was in slow motion, maybe the vodka of your drink had finally begun to hit, and you could also feel the temperature of your body rising, your eyes moving in all directions inspecting the people in the room; that's when you spot him.

Lee Minho, wearing an all-black outfit, his shirt was tight enough to give his body justice, plus it had a zipper he kept half opened exposing a bit of his chest, you could see the way girls drool over him and to think you got to see more than that the day he went to your apartment.

His brunette hair and plump lips, for some reason today you felt tempted by them for the first time, the way his cat-like eyes shined under the neon lights... yeah you acknowledge he was handsome, made by the Greek Gods as you would say, however, you were never captive by his charms like today... was it the alcohol? was it because of your previous interactions? You don't know what possessed you to stand up from your seat and made your way towards him.

Once he spot you the smile he had on his face faded away, at that moment you felt he didn't want you there but the way he looked at you gave you a hint that he wanted you there more than anyone. You smiled before approaching him, a giggle escaping your soft lips "I saw that you denied the rumors..." you trace as you study his face "Thank you" you finally said after a pause. At that moment you could see how Minho's body language changed, he went from relaxed to stiff in a matter of seconds "No problem" he said with no expression at all.

This was the first time you saw him this cold towards you, you couldn't quite decipher what was wrong so to lift the mood you grabbed his hand and brag him with you towards the dancing floor "y/n what are you doing" he said as he quickly walked behind you, At this moment he could feel the warmth of your hand touching his, everything was moving in slow motion for him, he was going to treasure this memory forever.

"I don't want to dance alone... I'm shy but with you, I feel like I can be myself" You grin at him as you glare at his deep brown eyes, if this was some kdrama Minho would have kissed you by now... he didn't know how much he would last this "cold treatment" act he was trying to play on you.

"I thought you didn't like our dating allegations, this will just add fuel to them" he scoffs rolling his eyes "Come on... you are Lee Minho" You emphasize his name "Do you really care about those rumors?" he didn't say anything, the tension was increasing creating an uncomfortable environment between the two of you; but you are y/n and you won't give up easily.

Die for you by the weekend started playing and you decided to screw it and let the music guide your body. Minho just stood there watching the way your hips moved to the rhythm of the song, the way you would throw your head back exposing your cleavage, he felt like you were inducing him, putting a spell under him, the way you smiled as you were having fun... he was falling for your act.

Once the music changed he realized he was hypnotized by you the whole time, but what made his blood boil is that he wasn't the only one as he spot more than a few staring at your body, at that moment out of instinct he placed a hand on your waist and pulled you closer to his body, the contact and the warmth of his chest against yours made your stomach tingle.

A few minutes passed and he had his neck in the crook of your neck as you both danced carefreely, he would constantly pull your dress down as it kept rolling up from all the grinding and movement.

Both of your hearts pounded excitedly there was something about this moment that felt special like it was meant to be, however, you were starting to get tired as you weren't feeling the music with the same energy you started. You gently pushed Minho away thank him for the time and left to sit somewhere in the club.

Minho's heartache as you left him, he wished he could stop time so he could enjoy more of your warmth, but he couldn't do anything and he knew it, you didn't belong to him and that's why he let you go.. he stood there watching your figure disappear between the rest of the bodies "HEY MINNIE" a voice squeaked behind him and he knew exactly who it belonged to as the girl hugged his arm... it was going to be a long night for Minho.

It was around 2 am and the party continued, you were pretty tired your social battery drained hours ago, you sat at one of the chairs at the bar and scrolled through your social media, waiting for Rosé to be done so you both could call for an Uber.

"Hey pretty" You look up to see an unfamiliar face, the man was really good looking and you could tell he had more than a couple of drinks by the way he would hiccup from time to time, by his body language you knew he wanted to hit on you and that he was rather desperate, making you uncomfortable.

"Hey" you tried to be friendly either way "You are y/n right, I’m Jake, I think you are really cute" he got closer placing a hand behind your back, at this moment you panicked you had no way of escaping his grip and it was making you feel uncomfortable, also with all the drinks you had you were feeling tired "Thank you so much and nice to meet you, but I gotta go" you nervously chuckled trying to push him away.

"Come on baby… don’t leave without giving me a kiss" With that he leaned dangerously close to your face trying to steal a kiss away from you when he abruptly got pushed away, startle you looked behind to see a rather pissed off Minho "Leave her alone" he hissed at him and grabbed your hand, quickly walking you to the exit "Wait… Minho, I need to wait for Rosé," you said mumbling "Don’t worry, Felix got her" you relax knowing that she was safe with her brother.

— — —

The walk to your apartment was rather comforting than you expected, you thought the walk would be awkward like last time and filled with silence, however, you didn’t expect Minho to be the type of guy that’s easy to talk to… well what did you expect he pretty popular for a reason.

Maybe was the alcohol lingering in the air or the impulsive thought to let him inside and see what would happen, but you never expected that after the first encounter, you would let him into your apartment again.

"It’s pretty late…" you trace looking into his dark eyes "The college staff might give you a warning if they find you" Although you tried to sound as stable as possible your voice started cracking as you finished your sentence.

He opened his mouth as if he was about to say something, however, he quickly stopped in his tracks and slightly smirked "Sure" he smiled as he stepped inside the dorm and took his shoes off.

"I’m pretty tired so I’m going to change into something more comfortable," you said as you dropped your bag in the living room "Make yourself home, I will try to see if I can find something comfortable for you to wear" he looked at you as you walked around the dorm, all he could think of is how close he was but so far at the same time.

"Don’t" he quickly regretted saying that when you turned around to look at him confused "You don’t want comfy cloth?" you questioned, his cheeks lightly blushing… gosh is it the alcohol? he was going to make a mental note to never drink near you ever again "No… no… that’s not what I mean…" he traces shyly, you laugh at seeing him in this condition, where was the snarky, confident man you knew?

"Your dress" he spoke again after collecting himself "You look really pretty in it…" he paused walking closer to you with a smirk and dark eyes "Please don’t take it off yet" his hand moved closer to your face to readjust your bangs.

Once again you don’t know if it was the alcohol or the sinful thoughts you been having about him, but the urge to kiss him was unstoppable.

The way he looked at your lips with those dreamy eyes, with a soft hand resting on your cheek… everything at that moment felt perfect but you just met him a couple of days ago, that made you uneasy, but as your faces got closer and closer by the seconds you couldn’t help but let it happen; you closed your eyes in anticipation but then you came to the realization, that you are not about to kiss with the love of your life, this is Lee Minho… one of the biggest fuck boys in your college… is it worth it risking a night with him and then be the topic of conversation the next day?

You quickly moved your head to the side of his neck "Woah that tequila got me messed up" you laugh awkwardly as you backed away "Maybe on another occasion you get to see me with another pretty dress" You winked and went inside your room as quickly as possible.

Minho was left dumbfounded in the middle of your living room, he cursed himself for being too obvious and too desperate… he was scared you knew his true feelings, however, he is not the type of guy to stress over a crush so he shook his thoughts away and decided to wait for you in the living room while he watched something on the tv.

"Fuck" you mumbled as you struggled to zip your dress off, you had no trouble putting it on, but it seemed like the zipper got stuck on the fabric at some point, you walked around the room questioning what to do <C’mon y/n… you live alone if he wasn’t here what would you do…> stress quickly overtook you as you got more and more desperate trying to get rid of the dress <I guess I could cut it> you thought as you spotted a pair of scissors in your table <But its channel… I went on bankrupt to get it> you cried internally <They better make better quality zippers next time> you sigh in defeat.

Shyly you walk over to your door, the faint sound of the tv getting louder as you are slightly open the door "Ermmm Minho" you said quietly in a whisper, surprisingly that was loud enough to get his attention "Yeah" he said his gaze not leaving the screen in front of him "I need your help" this time he turned around with a confused look "The zipper is stuck… can you help me?" you said sounding defeated.

He hummed in agreement scared that if he used his words he would make his excitement obvious, you grabbed his hand and led him into your room, it was the first time he ever saw it, the scent of lavender and vanilla that surround your room smelled just like you, he studied the room spotting a bunch of books all over the floor.

"Don't mind the mess" you say "I have been busy with work" You sigh as your turn your back and moved your hair exposing the zipper of your dress "Don't worry about it, out of all the girl's rooms I have been, yours is the most exciting to be in" he mumbled as he focused on zipping the dress down; you blushed at his comment although you try to not mind it.

"Really? Usually, boys like it when a girl's room is clean," you said as you hold your dress by the chest so you don't flash him, he hummed at your response "A clean room doesn't tell much about you... a messy room feels more intimate," he said looking at the surroundings "by the bunch of books in the floor I can tell you use them often" he paused scanning the room one more time "And..." you could feel the tone in his voice change to a teasing one "by the panties laying on the floor" you look to see where he was pointing at "I can tell you left in a rush that you couldn't pick them up"

Your eyes widen in embarrassment and you could feel your cheeks burn "MINHO" you squealed hitting his chest, Minho chuckled treasuring the moment, everything about this felt intimate, helping you with the zipper, being in your messy room, the way you turned bright red out of embarrassment, he wanted this to turn part of his daily routine and maybe it was because of the alcohol or because of the euphoria of the moment but he wished he could just throw you on the bed and worship you in every single way, however, he shoved his thoughts aside and continued helping you.

He placed a hand on your bare shoulder, and his warm palm sent chills down your spine "Hmmm" he furrowed his eyes and tighten his grip on your shoulder "You weren’t joking when you said it was stuck" he scratched his neck trying to think of a way to get it out "Oh c’mon, you are a man it shouldn’t be hard for you" you spat, desperation getting the best of you.

An airy chuckle left his lips ticking your neck "Now that was a little sexist coming from you princess" you scoff at the pet name his been giving you "Just please take it off, I'm getting hot" you cried "Alright, but don’t blame me if it breaks" he raised his hand before readjusting his position to zip the zipper down.

After what seemed 2 minutes of struggle, he pulled the zipper as hard as he could, not realizing the brute force he used; the zipper snatched in less than a second, your dress falling to your ankles as fast as the light; both of your bodies tensed, you because you realize you wore your black lace undies just in case you brought someone home, on the other hand, Minho tensed as he realizes he messed up and that you were wearing no bra.

"I-" he paused trying to collect himself "I’m sorry" he almost screamed as he threw a pillow at you and turned to look away, you couldn’t help but burst out laughing at the situation, if this would have happened while you were sober it would’ve been a different story, however, the alcohol roaming around your blood made you feel more carefree "YAHH" you screamed in between laughs "You are the one who ripped my dress off, I should be the one throwing pillows at you" you grabbed the dress from the floor to cover yourself and picked up the pillow he threw at you and started attacking him with it.

The room was filled with giggles and pillow feathers as you randomly started a pillow fight. During one of your attacks, Minho was quick enough to turn you around so you would be under him, the sweat forming on his forehead and the dim lights of your apartment made it a delightful sight.

"What? Already falling for me" he smirked as he got slightly closer to your face testing the waters, you scoff and smiled back hanging your hands behind his neck "You wish" You moved one of your hands to his face and traced his features like if he was some type of sculpture "However…" you quickly stopped yourself from continuing before you made a mistake "However?" he whispered as his eyes looked from your eyes to your lips back to your eyes, one of the hands that was resting besides your face moved to grab the side of your waist and slightly massage it.

You parted your lips contemplating if the words that were about to come out of your mouth would be worth it "fuck it" you mumbled as you closed the gap and gently kissed his lips.

You can’t describe the feeling of his lips on yours… they are soft… really soft and warm, it felt like you were on cloud 9, as your lips parted a faint moan left his lips in complaint "I wanna taste you" you whispered in his ear, his eyes quickly turned dark in lust and the smirk planted on his face could only describe his satisfaction at that moment.

Were you going to regret it tomorrow when you were completely sober with a hangover? yes… definitely but it's Lee Minho when do you get the chance to get laid by such a man? FUCK IT.

Once again you pushed him down your lips, this time the kiss being rough and desperate, moans leaving in between kisses "You don’t know the mistake you are doing" he mumbles in between the kiss, you parted your lips to look into his eyes and smile at him innocently "I know what I'm doing" you took your arms off his neck and move them to reveal a little bit of your cleavage.

You were teasing him and he knew, the bulge on his pants being an indicator he was enjoying it "fuck" with no warning he grabbed your hands and placed them on top of your head, one of his hands grabbing them down while the other stopped him from crushing you, his lips went back to yours, his tongue dancing along with yours, bitting your lips here and there, you spread your legs unconsciously making him smirk as he placed his leg in between your thighs and pressed into your panties, which by the second were getting wetter and wetter.

You swore you could get drunk on the wet kisses he was leaving all around your neck and cleavage, they were so addictive and the way he would force you to make eye contact or else he would stop had you on the edge. He made his way to your ear and bit it while you tried your best to not grind on his leg.

"You are getting too desperate princess" he whispered while gently caressing your wrists his been holding this whole time, he placed a chaste kiss on your lips "It’s time to stop" your eyes widen at his words… stop?! does he really want to stop??? did you do something wrong…

"Why?" You questioned as he was getting up "D-did I do something wrong" The panic in your tone scared him "No princess, of course not" he said while he hugged you and caressed your hair "I don’t get it.." you trace trying to hold back your tears from embarrassment "You are drunk… we are both drunk… I don’t want to take advantage of the situation" you pulled away from the hug and look into his eyes trying to see if he was joking, but to your surprise he wasn’t, he was straight up serious <A fuck boy who doesn’t want to fuck> you thought as he grabbed your hand "You should go to bed, it's pretty late princess" he stood up and guided you to your bed, he planted a kiss on your forehead before leaving "Sweet dreams princess, don’t forget to include me in them" he chuckled as he closed the door and left you with no words in your bed.

— — —

Two months passed and you and Minho became really good friends, both of you seemed to collectively agree to never talked about that night ever again; although there was some tension lingering between the two of you, you decided to ignore it, mostly because Vanessa has been sending you threatening notes from time to time; she believes you have no clue who those notes come from but it couldn’t be more obvious; the situation was more annoying than scary.

Another reason why you and Minho kept things as they are is because of soccer, he is busy with practice you barely see him, and only during your engineering class and parties rosé makes you tag along.

You have also been busy with your self-development or that's what you call it. You have made a bunch of new friends, mostly thanks to Hyunjin, he is supposed to be your professor but you truly appreciate the soft spot he has for you "I have been in your place" he told you once when he invited you for a quick treat, since that day you understood that he is helping you do things he wished he did during his college career.

So far you are loving the new version of yourself and you rather focus on yourself than on anything else.

— — —

"YAH MINHO" you squealed as you land harshly on the soft grass. It’s been a week since Minho begged you to join him at one of his soccer practices.

You scoffed as he screamed at the tv "This players are ass, I could beat them any day" You shoot at him but quickly regretted your words as he gave you a death glare "Don’t you dare insult my idols like that, I bet your ass won’t last a minute in a game or worse a second at a practice" you took that as a challenge, one that you regretted the day after; since then his been bugging you around with it so you finally cave in.

"Told you" he continued to laugh historically "You are too pretty to last a minute in a soccer practice" he smirked while he walked to you to help you.

You roll your eyes at his words and stood up yourself, rejecting his help, you walked towards your backpack "Woahh quitting already" You could feel the quirkiness in his tone as he followed behind you.

"You wish, Im just getting started" You took a ponytail out of your bag and turned around to face him while you do a medium ponytail.

Minho has been trying to hide his feelings for you, but it's the bare minimum you do that gets him flustered, the way your soft hair moves as you tie it and little details in your face like the mole in your bottom lip that makes him wanna kiss every single inch of you.

A loud smack is what snatched him out of his thoughts, he looks at you blankly while caressing his cheek "What the actual fuck y/n" he says in amusement which you only blink innocently in return.

"I asked you something and you never replied so I found out a good smack would kick you back to your senses" You smiled as he looked at you offended.

"I would beat your ass right now but that’s something I��m saving for another occasion" You could sense the double meaning behind his words but you shrugged it off "Other occasions will it be" you chuckled "Anyway back to what I was saying" you roll your eyes knowing he didn’t hear a word of what you were saying.

"Why do women's sports shorts have to be shorter than men’s sports shorts" You looked down at your legs "You are wearing Nike Pros, those are supposed to make you feel comfortable while moving" you scoff "Comfortable?!?!" you paused to look at him in disbelief.

"How am I supposed to feel comfortable when I feel my ass is bare naked" Out of instinct Minho tilted his head to check you out, making you hit his chest "YAH LEE MINHO" You gave him a death glare as he swung his hand in the air in defense.

"I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to my body just moved," he said in panic, his ear turning in a faint shade of red "Whatever let's just start this practice" You pushed him and walked towards the center of the field.

After the hours passed you felt how your body was dragging you down to the grass, the cold and soft grass touching your skin, sweat dripping down your face as you tried to control your heavy breath.

The feeling of the cold breeze touching your body and the sight of a sky covered with stars felt so euphoric, a moment you wished to be trapped in. It was a feeling you haven’t experienced before, you were used to exercising but this felt different; it felt comforting… safe.

"This is a vulnerable moment for a soccer player" Minho whispered next to you, trying not to ruin your moment.

You turn your face to see him, his sharp features being hit by the soft moonlight, breeze moving his hair lightly "Tell me more" you whispered back.

Even though Minho couldn’t see your face he knew you were smiling, he could feel it in your tone "Once your legs give up to the point your body brags you down to the grass" he trails, debating whether he should turn his face to face you "That’s when you know, you did your best, that's the moment you realize you can rest from all your hard work, it’s like a prize you know?" He turns to face you, your eyes were wide looking at him, he could see the shine of the stars in them.

"A prize" you raise an eyebrow "But what if I feel like I didn’t do my best?" he chuckles "It’s a prize because it's a feeling that lets you clear your mind, you may lay down in the grass feeling like a piece of shit but when you get up, you feel like you can rule the world" he chuckles when he sees your face even more confused "Forget it, you won’t get it," he said as he sat down.

"This is going to sound crazy but I think I do" You copy his movements and sat "It’s weird but I feel refreshed…" you mumbled as you stare at the stars.

As you both stay there in awe a shooting star flew across the sky "Woah" you both said in synchronization, turning to face each other and laughing "Make a wish" he said as he went back to stare at the stars "You should make one too" you closed your eyes to make your wish "I already did" he mumbled as he stared at you.

To this day he hates himself for loving you the way he does. After that night at your apartment, he tried to distance himself, he wanted to take things slow, he wanted you to know him for who he is not for the fuck boy image he won over the years. He wanted you to be madly in love the way he was, he wanted you to crave his attention the same way he did with you.

"What did you wish for?" You broke the silence slightly opening your eyes "It’s a secret if I tell you I might jinx it" you scoff in annoyance "Not fair, now Im curious" You closed your eyes again "Just finish your wish and let’s go, It's getting chilly" He stood up to grab your belongings and get ready to leave.

— — —

The days keep flying by, and Minho’s company became something of your daily life; no matter where you were or the time, he would find a way to be there. At first, you thought it was who he was, pretending not to care about others but secretly wanting to be with them; but as you progressively got closer to him, you noticed the special treatment he would give you from time to time.

Your friendship anniversary was getting closer as yellowish colors started to paint the trees. It was a chilly night on the October breeze when he mentioned it to you "Isn’t it crazy, how it has been almost a year since the morning you ran into me"

You never took track of time the same way Minho did, he would remember every single date he considered special or worthy of remembering.

"Can’t believe so much has happened during that period" you said in a nostalgic tone, remembering how you met, the rumors, the day you became known because of a boy's attention.

That day on your way home, you scrolled through your phone, looking at all the silly videos and pictures you took with your friends and Minho. You wonder what would’ve happened if you hadn’t crashed on Minho that day… would you still be unknown? Would the two of you eventually meet?

All the what if’s started to give you a headache, so you threw yourself in bed and decided to go on a slumber sleep.

— — —

The way his soft lips left wet kisses all over your neck was a delight to your soul and body, the faint whimpers that left his mouth as if he was begging you for more, you opened your eyes, looking at the brunette boy on top of you.

You couldn’t see his face but everything felt a little too familiar, you moved your hand to squeeze his hair, giving light tugs that would gain soft moans from him "Can I" his voice was raspy and soft there was care in his tone.

You just nodded as he slid a hand under your pajama shirt and teased your boobs, drawing circles around your nipples but not touching them, his lips too busy with your lips as his tongue explored yours.

A loud moan escaped your mouth as he suddenly pinched your nipple, a smirk forming on his lips "Please let me fuck you till you scream my name" he whispered in your ears while nibbling it; you just nod at the sensation, you wanted him to do more than teasing, he was making you desperate and he knew it… both of you knew it by the way you crossed your legs in search of some friction "Easy princess, let me worship you" he moved back to your lips, the room being filled with wet noises coming from them, his hands moved from your boobs to your legs, separating them as he left your lips once again.

His body was now kneeling in between your legs, your body temperature rising even though you were wearing shorts and a t-shirt. His soft hands caressed your thighs as he made eye contact with you, the crazy feeling about all this was that you couldn’t see his face clearly, which made you even more desperate. "May I take it off" he signaled at your shirt, there was something about him asking for consent that made you feel a pool of butterflies in your stomach, you slightly nodded, suddenly feeling aware of the situation.

The smirk that adorned his face suddenly softened as he stared at your body topless "Fuck" he mumbled to himself as he dived into his chest, his mouth wrapping automatically on one of your nipples as he played him with the other one with his hand. The way his tongue would move up and down on your nipple would make you squirm in place, There was something delightful about the way he would aggressively suck on your nipple but would leave kisses on them whenever you made a sound of complaint.

As he kept working on your tits with his mouth, one of his hands slid down to tease the band on your shorts, hand sliding even deeper to touch your pussy lips, his middle finger moving up and down your folds dispersing the wetness all over your core. "Please" you begged through moans as your hips unconsciously moved to grind on his finger "Say my name and you have it" he teased biting your lips, you cried in frustration you didn’t know who he was, suddenly he slipped the finger inside you making you moan loud as the sensation "Please" you cried "Say my name" he kept whispering in your ear as he trusted his finger inside you painfully slow.

You squirmed underneath him tears falling down your cheeks as you tried to find his name in the back of your head, a second finger was inserted slowly stretching you out "Please let me fuck your cunt senseless" he begged "Say my name y/n… please" he sounded just as desperate as you, at least you knew he was also being tortured.

The torture continue as you felt his boner on your thigh, his position switching so he could give ghostly kisses on your clit, your hips buckled up at the sensation, his nose hitting that spot you needed him to work on, a moan came out of both of your mouths "Please say my name" he kept repeating, frustration overtaking you as you start to cry "Please just fuck me" you cried grabbing his hair so he would look at you "PLEASE" you cried even harder, your head going blank by the second "MINHO PLEASE FUCK ME"

Suddenly you jumped out of your bed, hitting yourself on your night table "OUCHH" you hissed as you curled yourself up in the bed, then you remembered your dream, the obvious wetness you felt between your legs being the evidence that you did have a wet dream about Minho.

You cringe at yourself as you turn to face the ceiling… what was happening? where you developing feelings for him? <Nah… I don’t think so…> You told yourself <Maybe it’s the hormones… I haven’t been laid in a while> you laugh it off as you get up from your bed to take a shower and clean yourself, however, you still felt unease at the dream you just had.

— — —

After that dream you decided to take a hot shower, and wash away all the sweat and thoughts from your head; however, the shower didn’t quite help you forget about the dream or Minho.

Suddenly your bell rang shrugging you off from your thoughts, quickly you closed your shower and wrapped yourself with your towel, you weren’t expecting any visitors since it was a Sunday night. You looked through the peephole and spotted Minho… looking a little beat up?

"Gosh, Minho what happened" you spat quickly as soon as you opened the door, distress in your tone as he falls in your arms. He was struggling to keep up with weight so you grabbed him and tried to walk him towards your couch.

"I lost my match" he groaned grabbing his head and squeezing his hair "Easy there…" You grabbed his hands stopping him from hurting himself; he gave your hands a light squeeze and sighed.

His pupils were dilated and his eyes looked rather red and watery, was he crying? Was he drunk? maybe both… you were quite confused trying to figure out his state "Were you drinking?" you questioned as you stood to pour him a glass of water.

He was silent for a bit collecting his thoughts "I usually don’t make a big deal when I lose…" he trace as he shifted on the couch, his arms and legs spreading across the couch, head falling back with a sigh. You knew this wasn’t the right moment but the sight of him manspreading in your couch with his soccer uniform was quite a view.

"But" he trailed once again before pausing "Vanessa" he sighed, the tension he was putting on his words was sending you over the edge, couldn’t he get straight to the point "She is making my life impossible" he groaned, you walked back to couch placing the cup of water in the table and sitting next to him "What’s wrong? Is she following you around again? I thought she got a boyfriend…" You were honestly startled at the mention of her name, Vanessa started dating Lucas a couple of months ago, he was the captain of the soccer team and a really handsome and extremely popular guy. "That’s the problem" he placed his hands on his face in frustration "She is only dating Lucas to be "closer" to me" he quoted the word with his hands while rolling his eyes.

"Today Lucas found a letter she was planning to give me… confessing her feelings" The more he talked the more you could sense anger in his tone "He got sooo pissed off and placed me as a sub player for today's match" he sat down and looked into your eyes in disbelief "ME A SUB PLAYER?!" He scoffed "I’m literally the star" he spat quickly grabbing the cup of water and taking a sip.

"Worst part he placed me in the last 10 minutes of the game when we were losing 1-3" he placed the cup back on the table.

"He thought I was gonna pull a hat trick of my ass and save the game, but ofc I didn’t" This time he sounded disappointed rather than mad "At the end of the game the coach scolded me for "poor performance" he quoted his words, then scoffed before leaning back against the couch.

"I felt like shit, useless" he paused "Yah Lee Minho" You grabbed his shoulder which got no reaction from him, seeing him vulnerable like this made your heart shatter in pieces. You knew how much Minho treasured soccer and the sacrifices he does for that sport, seeing him like this because of selfish people made your blood boil.

"I thought a couple shots of alcohol were going to make me feel better" he paused, silence filling the room "but it didn’t" he turned to look at you with a soft gaze, eyes threatening to shed tears as he made eye contact with yours. Soft big eyes that could hold the galaxy in them, Minho treasured them, your eyes were like the door to your soul he could tell what you were thinking by just looking at them, he admired them.

“Then I thought of you” He gave you a warm smile before softly chuckling “It instantly made me smile. So I thought I might gave you a visit” He looked around your apartment before fixing his gaze on you once again.

“It’s…” He paused choosing his words carefully “It’s been a while since I last came here” You chuckle “You are right” Deep down you knew he was trying to switch the conversation, although you wanted to comfort him you figured the best way to do it was by giving the company he needed.

“Although we don’t speak of the last time” You raised your hands in defense, it was his turn to laugh at your actions.

“Now…” You said softly “If you don’t mind, I’m gonna go change. You took me by surprise” If you hadn’t pointed out that you weren’t wearing clothes but a towel Minho would’ve never noticed.

His eyes quickly glanced down, taking into his view a couple of water droplets laying down in your cleavage, your wet long hair dripping down on the couch. His eyes darkened and a shade of crimson red sparkled in his ears.

He cleared his tone “I… ummm sorry for interrupting your bath” He touch his neck in embarrassment. He opened his mouth to say something else, probably another apology so you stopped him. You placed a hand in his bicep to comfort him “Don’t worry about it, I’m here for you” You gave him the most sincere smile Minho has ever seen in his life, a shock of excitement rushing down his body to his… you know.

If you could manage to give him a boner with your smile, he can’t imagine with your body. Minho wasn’t a fan of sexualizing you, he adore you too much to not feel guilt. However he is only human after all.

“I’ll be back. Feel yourself at home” you nudge him with your elbow before getting up and disappearing to your room. He just sat there in the middle of your living room contemplating his life choices, he knew he was at a very vulnerable state, not only emotionally but also physically. He could feel the shots of vodka he took before rushing down his body. One thought let to another and that’s when he decided that if he was going to fuck it up, it was going to be tonight.

He prepared a mini speech in the back of his head, ready to blurt it out once you stepped a foot out of your room. The adrenaline sobering him up as the seconds passed by. What fell like an eternity you finally opened the door to your room, coming out in a set of black silk pijamas. He could feel his dick throbbing in his pants as he saw you walking out <Keep yourself together Minho> He mentally cursed himself.

“Sorry for the delay, I couldn’t find my fave pj’s so I had to stick with this one” you walk over to the kitchen looking for something to eat. Minho just looked at you wondering how you could be so nonchalant about it. Like it wasn’t a big deal… well… it wasn’t… but considering he was fucked up and you we wearing a set of silk pijamas the smoothly hugged your curves was making him even more insane.

“Are you craving something” You ask reaching to the top shelf in your kitchen, trying to grab your favorite snacks “I can ask delivery, I only have leftovers and-“ Your breathe hitched as you could feel his warm body behind you.

“Here” He turned you around and gave you the bag of chips you were struggling to get “T-thank you” you grabbed them and placed them in the counter next to you. However he didn’t move, your body being pressed against the counter. Although he wasn’t fully close to you, the way he looked at your lips drawn you closer to him without even noticing.

“Y/n” he placed a hand on your cheek “I… I have something I been wanting to tell you for a while now” His cheeks blushed in embarrassment, he has never confessed to anyone before and he had no idea what the outcomes could be in this situation. “I been crushing on you for a while now. I been trying to swallow my feelings but I can’t. It’s gotten to the point that I can’t look straight into your eyes cause I’m afraid I will make a mistake” He stopped to analyze your face, he looked into your eyes and found an expression he has never seen before… it was unreadable.

A knot started to form in his throat as breathing suddenly became a hard task for his body to do. You notice his body shaking and placed a hand in his chest and moved your other hand to fix his bangs “Minho… I” you laughed softly “I been feeling the same for a while now. Although I never saw you as something more than a friends, recently you been in my mind lately” The smile that adorned his face in that moment was the most stunning thing you have seen in your life. The way his eyes would wrinkle from his big grin. Minho was just to precious for you to ever harm.

Both of your bodies started to unconsciously get closer to each other like magnets, his face centimeters away from yours “Can I…” You could feel his breathe hitting your lips as he spoke, his eyes never breaking contact with yours as he placed one of his hands on your waist and the other in your hair “May I kiss you?” Something you loved about Minho was his gesture of asking for consent. You didn’t have a big dating history but the few guys you dated never asked you for permission to kiss you or anything else.

You nodded afraid that if you used your words it would expose your excitement. His lips were soft on yours, his movements delicate as if he was savoring the moment, studying every single line in your lips. A soft gasp left your lips as his tongue tapped your bottom lip asking for permission to go in.

It’s been a while since you and Minho kissed on that night, but the fact that now you were both sober… well half sober in case of Minho, however, kissing him sober felt like a whole new world. The way the butterflies erupted in your stomach and the warmth of his hand left a huge impact on your body.

As the kiss started to get more desperate more needy, Minho lifted you up and sat you on the counter, making room for his body in between your thighs. His boner slightly pressing into your pussy, A moan escape your lips in between kisses, the gripped you had in his hair tightening. He groaned as he bit your lip in lust, his eyes opening to look at your face and smile “Do you mind if I mark you” Here we go with the butterflies again, your stomach doing black flips “You can do whatever you want as long as I can do same” He smiled into your neck before biting the soft flesh, you whimper trying to hold back your moan. You were really ticklish and hated when people touched it, however, this felt different a hundred times better.

As he kept leaving wet kisses in every spot he could find. You could feel your stomach rumbling around, you tried to ignore it, however, as it progressively started to get louder you couldn’t anymore. Pushing him off slightly, cheeks burning in embarrassment “I’m hungry” you said with puppy eyes, the room bursting in laughs as his stomach proceeded to groan as well.

“Let me treat you then” He smiled as he helped you down the counter. You didn’t knew he was a great cook, the way his hands cut the vegetables in such a skillful way “You are giving Husband material right now” You joked as you continue to stare at him. He hated the way you could say such words in such a nonchalant way, not knowing the way those words impacted his body, your words going straight to his heart and down to his dick… he couldn’t help it.

He sighed as he placed the knife down looking at you, a smirk forming in his face ready to tease you “Marry me and I will show you how husband material I can be” His dark eyes never left yours, threatening you to stare away, however, you weren’t going to let him win that easily “You wish” you scoffed looking back at your phone, he chuckled “Say’s miss wet panties” You choke on your saliva at his words- how can he be this imprudent?! “Excuse me” you move your gaze back to his, the smug on his face giving you butterflies “I could feel it while we were kissing, your shorts don’t leave much to the imagination” He said as he proceeded to cut the vegetables. Your face turning crimson red as you tried to hide yourself “YAHHH” you threw a piece of potato as him, making him chuchas “Easy there princess, shouldn’t throw food at the possible father of your children” Your eyes widen… this man was really something else. You laugh “Lets not get too ahead of ourselves, you just confessed, are you still drunk?” you tease him, he hummed “I don’t know, want to test it out? See if I make any mistakes” You knew what his words meant and even though it was very tempting all you were craving right now was some good food.

The rest of the night went smoothly, both of you ate and watched shitty shows on your couch, both of your bodies cuddling under your soft blanket. Maybe this was the beginning of you adventures with Minho.

———

It’s been exactly a week since Minho asked you to be his girlfriend. It was a random Friday when you opened your locker to get your math book a letter with little cat drawings falling down to your feet. When you opened it you were greeted with Minho’s hand writing inviting you to go to the field that night.

As you walk anxiously around the field, you look around trying to spot him. Suddenly a hand grabbed yours startling you, in reflex you tried to punch whoever grabbed you but they acted on time and stopped your hand “Easy there Princess” he chuckled. Relief showered down your body as you see him laughing in front of you.

As you scolded him, he grabbed your hand and walked you through a path you have never seen before. You could see lights at the distance, curiosity rising in your head as you kept asking questions; however he never replied he just kept quiet till you reached your destination.

It was a tree house, it wasn’t too far from the field and it was hidden in the tiny forest next to the field, you have never been in one before. He grabbed your hand and told you to trust him. Once there he told you the story about the tree house and how its special to him and his family. Butterflies ran through your stomach at the thought of being the first girl he has ever brought there, it made you feel special. The house was adorned with fairy lights and comfy blankets, a bottle of wine and snacks being placed on a small table. He played your favorite movie, however, out of nowhere it started glitching and the small movie projector turned off. You sighed in disappointment, turning to see Minho. Your eyes widen and your jaw dropped as he was suddenly carrying a ring.

“M-Min… what’s this?” Your brain couldn’t process what was happening at that moment, a million thoughts running through your mind “A-“ you paused “Are you asking me to marry you?!?” Your voice increasing in a high pitch as you talk, you were scared, wasn’t it too soon?! he could see the panic in your face and decided to speak before you decided to hit and run like the first time you met.

You got pulled out of your thoughts as his laugh filled the room “No silly” he grabbed your hand and placed the ring on your finger “It’s a promise ring” He placed his hand on your cheek so your gaze was fixated on his “Every time I think of my future you are in there, and its driving me crazy to the point you won’t leave my mind” The more he spoke the more embarrassed he got, you could see the way his face turned into a light shade of red and the way his voice trembled “I know I’m being too cheesy and I can guarantee you I won’t be able to sleep in peace tonight… but you know” He took a deep breath “I will be able to sleep at peace tonight knowing that you are my girlfriend” He took a second to analyze your face before speaking again “Y/n… would you be my girlfriend?” He tilted his head and smiled, the gesture reminded you of a curious kitten and it made your heart melt. You quickly squealed and wrapped your hands behind his neck stealing a kiss from him “I hope that answer your questions” You say as your lips separate from each, just to reunited a second later. Since then everything has been going smooth, however, its been just one week so you didn’t want to jinx things.

Your doorbell rang and you opened your door to find a big teddy bear behind it.

“Surpriseeee” Minho screamed as he shoved the teddy bear to your arms “Happy one week princess” He tried to kiss you but couldn’t because of the teddy bear in between your bodies “Im gonna do a mental note to buy a smaller one next time” Both of you chuckled as you placed the bear on your living room couch.

“I didn’t knew you were coming today” You softly kiss his lips smiling “My plan was actually to take you out for dinner, but I got assigned a house project” His smile slowly faded away, disappointment taking over his tone “Soo I decided to buy you a small gift” You laugh as you stare at the big ass bear sitting on your couch, you wonder if it would fit in your bed. “I’m still mad Im trapped with the project though… it was last minute too” He cried “Worst part Is that I have to work with Angie and someone else. Working with Vanessa’s minion is definitely hell” He dramatically threw himself into your couch hugging the bear.

“Angie? Damn that’s tough” you sat on his lap and planted your face on the crook of his neck “You got this though” you left a kiss on his cheek and smiled fondly at him. “You sure know how to make my day princess” He sighed “Well I gotta go, I love you so much” He gave you a peck on your lips before exiting your apartment.

— — —

It was around 4pm when your phone started exploding with messages.

Rosie <3 : Y/N

Rosie <3 : Y/NNIE~~~

Rosie <3 : MY PRECIOUS Y/N PLEASE REPLY

Rosie <3 : BITCH IF YOU DONT ANSWER THAT GOD DAMN PHONE

Rosie <3 : WHY DO YOU EVEN HAVE ONE?

What do you want? : Y/N

Rosie <3 : Would you go to Jennie’s party with me tomorrow night?!?! Pleaspkeapelaopslepalplsssss

I don’t know…. : Y/N

I made plans with Minho : Y/N

Rosie <3 : Y/N NOOOO THEY GOT YOU, I KNEW YOU ONCE YOU SHOWED ME THE RING.

Rosie <3 : BUT ITS SATURDAYYY.

Rosie <3 : ITS GIRLIES NIGHT

sigh… I will think about it : Y/N

Rosie <3 : THANK YOU LORDDD

Rosie <3 : let me know latest tomorrow afternoon

Rosie <3 : ttyl~~

Byeeeee <;3 : Y/N

You stared at your phone thinking how Minho would react if you suddenly ditch him, technically both of you planned this outing. Switching plans on him out of nowhere was definitely not looking good.

You could hear a faintly ding from your phone as you started to drift away from your sleep, eyes heavy you started to search for you phone without moving your head. You groaned as soon as you saw the time, it was already 10pm. You had no idea when you had fallen asleep, all you remembered was watching south park and eating some leftovers. As you progressively started to wake up you opened the notification that initially woke you up.

It was an unknown number and an image was attached, you raised an eyebrow in confusion as the picture started to load. Your heart dropping immediately to your stomach as you stare at the picture.

It was Minho kissing a girl. You immediately zoomed into the picture, hoping it was all a joke, however, it was not. He was wearing the same clothes he wore today, one of his hands was on the girls chest while the other grabbed her arm. You tried to figure out who was that girl in the picture, your heart dropping once again as you figure out it was Vanessa, you always thought you didn’t have to worry about her; after all Minho seemed to hate her, however, you couldn’t deny she was gorgeous. She was a straight up barbie, plus she was Minho’s ex… what if after a week of dating you he realize he loved her? that he wanted her?

Tears started falling down your cheeks, a knot forming in your throat as you desperately cried in your bed. Your phone flew away across the room as you looked at the bear he gave you “YOU TOLD ME YOU LOVED ME” you punched the bear before throwing it across the room like your phone. You honestly couldn’t believe it yet… while you were sleeping daydreaming on your next date he was kissing some other chick. You stared at your promise ring. As much as you wanted to you couldn’t take it off, you wanted all this to be a joke a set up… but the evidence was water clear. One final tear rolled down your cheek as you took the ring off your finger, you tried to throw it in your garbage but your heart wasn’t strong enough for that, so you opt out to place it in your night table.

That night you cried yourself to sleep, hoping it was all a bad dream.

———

The next morning you are woken up by the sound of your doorbell, whoever was behind that door was definitely desperate to go in. The ringing sound embedded in your head, making you annoyed.

You look through the peephole a wave of emotions attacking you as you see who was behind that door… a knot formed in your throat and tears threatened to fall. You backed away from the door as quiet as possible, trying to make no sound so he would think you weren’t home. The audacity he had to come to your house after cheating on you last night. Maybe the project thing he mentioned you was a lame excuse to go see Vanessa.

You go back to your room ignoring the continuos ringing from the doorbell. You pick up your phone from the floor to find 100+ notifications from Minho, he probably found out he got caught and tried to explain it to you. You weren’t feeling it today, you wanted to forget everything. So you texted Rosé confirming that you were going to the party, whats the best way to fix a broken heart without alcohol?

Two hours passed and Minho finally gave up trying to contact you, he called, texted, passed letters through the opening of your door. For a moment you thought he was not giving up. You knew he left once you heard Rosé’s voice on the other side of the door, you could hear her scolding Minho; telling him to leave you alone for once. He tried to explain things to Rosé, however, she never replied to anything he said.

You got startled when you heard a knocked on your door “Y/n its me~”By the tone in her voice you knew she was trying to distract you. Her voice was sweet and playful. You opened the door to find her with food in her hand “I grabbed something to eat before coming here” She lifted the bag, a big warming smile adorning her face.

Both of you were having a good time eating the food she bought and gossiping around, it was just some quality girl time, last time you had one was a couple days before you and Minho started dating. You didn’t knew how much you missed it till now.

“I don’t really wanna touch the topic between you and that asshole” She exhaled as she thought of her words carefully “But… I think you should listen to him… I mean… he looks too heartbroken for it to be something he did willingly” She finally lifted her head to look at you “His eyes looked tired, he looked like a mess… I have never seen him like this before… He definitely did not sleep last night” She laughed softly trying to lighten the situation.

“I know… I know… but I don’t know how to feel about all this, I want to hear him out but my ego won’t let me” You sighed picking up the dirty dishes “Now lets start getting ready for tonights party, I’m trying to get white girl wasted and have fun” You laughed making Rosé laugh along with you, however, She felt uneasy… she knew how much you hated parties and every single word that just came out of your mouth, wasn’t something you would say in your daily, but she is your friend and supports you 24/7, so she got up from the couch and ran out to you “WOOOO PARTY IN THE USAAA” She screamed while jumping up and down around you.

You took a long bath, it was comforting and relaxing. The way the warm water wrapped your body, you sometimes wishes you could live in your bathtub, it was just too good to be true. You got out and checked yourself in the mirror, you felt hot. Your boobs, ass, curves, everything was perfect to your eyes. You smirked thinking that this is what Minho lost, maybe and you weren’t perfect like other girls but you loved yourself and that’s what mattered.

You grabbed a purple silk dress, it wasn’t the type of dress you would wear considering how short it was and a v neckline that punctuated your cleavage. Rosé made you bought it the moment you both saw it at a store “Save it for a special night” she teased as she brainwashed you to buy it. You never expected to use it but it was too pretty to not get it.

You wore your favorite pearl dress and some sutil earrings, you wore your favorite pair of high heels and call it a day, you came out of the bathroom Rosé’s jaw dropping as she saw you.

“GIRL” She squealed “YOU ARE TOO GOOD TO BE TRUE” She started doing a happy dance “Let me do your makeup and hair and off we go to party land” The excitement in her voice made you forget everything, Rosé was the type of person that could make you feel better in no time, you were really grateful for meeting her.

The moment both of you stepped inside the party everyone’s eyes were on you. You two shared a knowing look and dashed to the bar to get some drinks, giggles and squeaks taking over your conversation as the alcohol ran through your system. Pink Whitney was your weakness, every time you drank it you couldn’t stop, it wasn’t because it was tasty even though it tasted way better than most alcohol, but it was because it made you feel sober making you drink more, but more you drink it, the more fucked up you got.

Two hours passed and you lost track of how many shots you have chugged down, you were currently playing beer pong with Jennie and other friends when you felt the urge to use the restroom. Politely you excused yourself and walked towards the bathroom. What you saw shouldn’t have hurt you the way it did. It was Minho… kissing someone but this time it wasn’t Vanessa, it was some other girl you have never seen before. The way he pinned her against the lonely hallway and placed his knee in between her tights… the sight was enough to sober you up, your heart shattering like a crystal figure that had been slammed against a wall; you were for real done with him.

“You guys lasted more than I imagined” Her voice drew shivers down your spine, you turn to face her, trying to hide your tears “Me and my girls bet that you guys would last 2 days” She laughed looking at you, you felt pathetic “Don’t feel bad though, he is a fuck boy he is meant to play with girls” She faked a pout and caressed your hair “Vanessa, I don’t know whats your deal but leave me alone” You unintentionally raised your voice catching Minho’s and the other girl attention.

“Shit” Minho mumbled under his breath “Y/n wait” he said as you started running away from there, he tried to follow behind you but was stopped by the girl he was kissing, Vanessa turned around to look at your figure disappear between all the bodies, a smirk adorning her face.

You cleaned your tears before telling Rosé that you were calling it a day, you didn’t want to ruin her fun so you didn’t mention the incident. As you walked out of the party you crashed into someone, your eyes widening.

“Mr Hyunjin?” You said in surprise, he chuckled at you “Hey y/n, leaving already?” He looked stunning, his long blond hair and casual attire gave you butterflies, you were used to see him in his typical teacher attire, at some point you thought he had no fashion taste by the way he dressed but now you understood that just his class attire. “Yeah…” You softly exhaled trying to hide your disappointment “May I ask why you are at a student party” You raised an eyebrow in curiosity, the sight making him laugh “Jennie and me went to the same high school, we are really close friends. However due to early degree, I have to keep it professionally” The smile in his face never faded away as he talked “Do you mind telling me how you got your teaching degree that fast?” He laughed again at your curiosity he find it really cute “Sure, but its a long story, why don’t we go somewhere else to talk?” That was an offer you couldn’t deny, specially tonight.

He knew he had no right to be jealous right now, but seeing you walk away with Hyunjin made his blood boil. He carefully followed you guys to a cafe. He sat far enough for you guys not to notice him but close enough to see the way you would laugh at his jokes, how you would often touch him here and there and the glances he would give your chest while you laughed.

Maybe it was the alcohol, maybe it was the jealousy that ran through his body, but the moment you excused yourself to the bathroom he found himself walking towards Hyunjin.

He was sketching something on a napkin when Minho grabbed his shoulder giving it a squeeze “Took you long enough” He said nonchalantly as he kept drawing, not bothering to turn around to see Minho “You and your pretty mouth, you swear you are better than everyone” He groaned gaining a laugh from Hyunjin “I don’t think I’m better than everyone” he paused to look at Minho “I just think Im better than you” His smirk was Minho’s last stroke, he lifted his fist ready to punch him when Hyunjin catch it “I gave you time to not mess it up, but you are Lee Minho” His face didn’t have an expression at all, Minho couldn’t understand how he was so well collected while he threw poison at his face.

“I always knew about your little crush on her. I sacrificed my feelings for you, cause I’m a teacher and I need to keep things professional. However, I’m not gonna let you hurt her. I know how hard it was for her to be the person she is now, I’m not letting you ruin that” He started to squeeze his fist and aggressively moved it out of his face. Minho stood there dumbfounded at Hyunjin’s confession.

Minho and Hyunjin had a complex background story, they both met at summer dancing camp. Although both had so much in similar they never clicked, often turning everything into a competition. When he went to college and found out he was one of the architecture teachers he felt sick to his stomach. Hyunjin and him had a gap of 3 years, how come he already be a teacher when he was just starting a carrier. This only made Minho more jealous.

His thoughts were interrupted when Hyunjin spoke again “She is coming, you have the option to leave or face the reality” He smirked once again as he saw the troublesome look in his face, however what he didn’t expect was a tear to run down his cheek “Please take care of her” He said in defeat, a faint smile painted on his face.

Now this was something Hyunjin never expected from Minho, he knew him as the guy who would fight against him till the last breath, seeing him this vulnerable broke something inside him. “Sorry I took so long” You said as you sat down on your seat.

“Minho you idiot” he cursed to himself, so low you couldn’t hear it, at least you didn’t catch on it. He closed his eyes and sighed in frustration.

You were confused as to why you were walking towards the field with Hyunjin, he said he had something to show you, however, there was nothing to see when you were there. He grabbed your hand and placed it in his chest “I know I’m your teacher and this is wrong even though we both adults” He spat as he stared deeply into your eyes “But please concede me one kiss” He looked at you almost begging.

You look down at his lips, you would lie if you said it wasn’t tempting to steal a kiss from them… however it felt wrong and not because he was your teacher but because of Minho. You couldn’t believe yourself after all he did to you, but something deep inside you still believed in him.

While you seemed to be caught in thoughts, Hyunjin spotted Minho behind you staring at the two of you, no expression in his face, however his eyes were dark and his hands were pressed against each other.

Hyunjin smirked and got closer to you, Minho doing the same, Hyunjin knew what he was doing, his plan was to provoke him. Fight for you.

He wrapped a hand around your waist making you gasp in surprise “Hyunjin” you said softly “Shhh just play along” He whispered against your ear, you couldn’t tell why he was doing this until he spoke again “He is watching” You immediately understood what he was doing, you smiled at him “I will” Hyunjin was left dumbfounded at your words “I will kiss you” You finished, he looked at your eyes in panic “Y/n you don-“ His words were interrupted as you planted a kiss in his lips, they were just as soft as Minho’s but maybe a little bigger, however, the sensation didn’t even compared to Minho’s.

A hand grabbed your arm and snatched you out of his grip. “Minho” You said as you panted. “So you decided to fight” Hyunjin smiled proudly “Go ahead and don’t mess it up” He said nonchalantly as he walked away, leaving you alone in Minho’s arms.

It was a chilly night, the breeze hovering over your bodies. Both of you stood there without saying a single word to each other. His body was tense just as yours was. Should you be the first one to talk, tears starting to form in your eyes. He could hear you sniffing so he turned you around to face him.

He had an angry expression in his face which pissed you off but also made you feel guilty “I know I have no right to be jealous or mad right now” He finally spoke looking into your eyes “But I would be lying if I said im not mad or jealous right now” He got closer to you “Y/n… the picture they sent you last night was a set up…” He began to explain “I was doing the project when she came, she tricked me, I was trying to pull away but Jesus Christ she has a strong grip” You lowly chuckled at the playful tone on his last phrase “However today… I did kiss that girl willingly” Your heart once again dropping to your stomach “I was drunk, which is no excuse I know, but I was trying to forget everything. I was trying to forget the fact that I had lost you because of the plan Vanessa set up” He paused, his heart broking as he saw your eyes full of tears, your head staring down at the grass “I was on my 15th shot of the night, when the girl approached me… her scent reminded me of yours. Levanter and Vanilla” He whispered “One thing led to another… Im sorry” He started to cry “I’m so stupid… Im sorry” He kneeled in front of you crying.

You didn’t knew what to exactly do in that moment, forgive him? Comfort him? Leave him there? Screamed at him? You wanted to do all of those options but you didn’t have the heart to do any of those.

“L-let’s go to my apartment” Although you felt you were going to regret it, it was the only thing that crossed your head “Don’t think anything about it, Im just getting chilly” You extended your hand to grabbed his.

The walk to the apartment was silent from somehow comforting, you opened the door and led him inside. He sat on your couch while you brought a bottle of vodka. “You trying to poison me?” He said playfully trying to lift up the mood, however you weren’t feeling it “If we are going to talk I need to take few shots first”

———

You don’t know how you ended up in this situation “Teasing me with this little dress” He slid a hand up your dress and played with the band of your panties “You knew what you were doing every time you bend and moved sensually whenever I was near” He whispered in your ear, gently nibbling it. “Minho” You called out his name softly, his lips interrupting yours with a kiss. It was hungry and lustful, wet noises from the kiss hovering all over the room. Last thing you remembered was shoving down a shot of vodka before kissing him and now you were here.

He was on top of you in your bed, your hands pinned down as he kissed your body up an down. The faint light of your fairy lights being the only source of light in the room. His knee was firm against your pussy, your dress rolled up with all the movement. “You look so pretty” He almost moaned at the sight. Your messy hair, your legs exposed, your white panty on full display, and the way your dress struggled to cover your tits. Minho was drunk in you, he wanted to drink you dry. “We have made a lot of mistakes tonight…” he said in between kisses “Please lets make one that we won’t regret” moved to kiss your neck, softly biting it leaving faint marks in it “Fuck” you gasped in delight “Minho do whatever you want, any mistake I do with you ends up being the best” You could feel his smirk growing against your neck.

Next thing you felt was his nose pressed against your clothed clit, you moaned gripping his hair, he laughed “Patience princess, I want to take my time with you” He kissed your inner thighs up and down, kissing everywhere around but where you wanted him the most.

You felt shameless as you lifted your hips trying to find some type of friction. He just giggled before taking off your panties painfully slow. The cold breeze blew against your pussy making you whimper “Fuck I love it when you whimper” He placed his face closer to your pussy and blew gently on it, mesmerized by the way he impacted your body.

The feeling was mutual though, you could see the way his pants tighten the more he got aroused. Once his tongue was playing with your clit you lost it. It felt like you were on the clouds, his tongue was soft a warm, the slurping noises making you even more aroused. He grabbed your free hand and intertwined it with yours. His thumb caressing your hand as a gesture of comfort. You loved this man so much he didn’t understand.

With his other hand he slowly started stretching you out, one finger, two fingers, three… you gasped, body lifting up as he added a fourth finger. He kissed your cunt and your inner thighs trying to soothe you. “You got this princess” He slowly started to pump in and out of you, being as careful as he could, not wanting to hurt you in any way.

You threw your head back as you could feel your high approaching, moans getting louder and louder by the second. Minho closed his eyes and hummed in delight, his mouth attaching once again to your clit, listening to your pretty moans like it was his favorite song “Min-Minho” You breath hitched as you couldn’t hold back anymore “Go ahead Princess, show me how well I treat you” You came all over his finger and face, your face crimson red as you rode out of your high, embarrassment showering you over.

You could hear his soft chuckle as he kissed you, his tongue dancing with yours. You could savior yourself through his tongue. He sat you down as he glare at you, eyes dark in lust. A whimpered left your lips as he sucked the same fingers that were inside you, sucking them dry in front of you not breaking eye contact. “Fuck you taste so sweet” He was driving you insane. You moved towards him, taking what was left of you dress, your boobs falling free. You could see him salivate over them as he stared at them shamelessly.

“You have no idea how many times I have pictured you naked” He said groping your boob, his finger flickering your nipple. You couldn’t hold it anymore, your hand traveling to his belt, taking it out in a split of a second. Your hand unzipping his jeans as he helps you get rid of them.

You could see his dick through his boxers, a stain of pre cum visible at the tip, you leaned to his stomach and planted few kisses. His whimpers were a melody to your brain.

Removing his boxers, his dick sprung free, you leaned down to give the tip few kitten licks, teasing his slit while applying pressure to it. He groaned as he tightly tugged your hair. A moan escaping your mouth sending vibrations down his dick.

“Fuck… Princess… I don’t think I can resist if you continue” His voice was unstable as he tried to form words inside his head “Please let me fuck you” You raised your face to look at him, smiling as you kiss him wrapping your hands around his neck “I should be the one begging you” You tease, gaining a scoff from him.

He stood up to pick up his pants in search of a condom “Fuck” he closed his eyes, he gave the one he had to a friend who needed it at the party, he turned around to you disappointed “It will be another night Princess… I don’t have one on me right now” His voice was soft and filled with disappointment.

“Fuck me raw” He turned to face you, looking at your innocent face like you hadn’t just spilled one of the most lustful thing. You bat your lashes at him as you sat down like an obedient puppy in front of him. You tilted your head “If you want ofc, I’m under birth control” The way his cock throbbed at your words drove him crazy.

In a split of a second he was on top of you again, his mouth playing with your nipples as he teased the tip of his dick in your folds, he rub small circles around your clit with his tip, drops of pre cum falling down your folds. “Minho please just fuck me” You cried “I always forget you are impatient Princess” He chuckled, sending vibrations down your stomach. The pool of butterflies you were feeling at that moment. You were willing to forget everything that has happened in the past just to have him next to you every day.

He slowly started stretching your cunt with his tip, you groaned in pain, the fingers definitely did not prepared you well to take him in.

Once he was fully in he waited for your sign to keep going. A soft whimper leaving your mouth as you gave him the green light. He started slowly pumping in and out of you carefully.

As he started to feel pleasure as well he couldn’t help but fasten his pace, your eyes fully cloth as you moaned his name “Bet Hyunjin wouldn’t make you feel like this” You don’t where this is coming from but you like the way he talked dirty “Neither any other bitch could take my cock the way your cunt does” He placed his face in the crook of your neck panting. Shivers rolling down your spine “Fuck. The way your cunt squeezes my cock” He threw his head back in pleasure “Let me fuck you like you’re mine” He reposition himself, a hand next to your head while with the other he applied slight pressure on your neck.

He stopped thrusting you, gaining a moan of complain “Princess if you want me to continue I need you to look at me while I fuck you” You could feel your cheeks burn in embarrassment, although you were desperate. You nodded at his command and he continue with his task. His fast pace, the pressure on your neck and his dark eyes piercing yours, it was all too overwhelmed to handle, tears falling down your eyes as you moan.

Seeing you in this state made Minho crazy, you were like this because of him. His cock starting throbbing inside you as you started to uncontrollably squeeze him “Fuck Princess” He moved his hand from your neck “Min” You gasped for air “Im close” You cried out as you grabbed his hair and pulled him for a kiss. “Lets cum together then” he whispered in your ear, he moved his hand to your clit and started rubbing circles in it, while his pace started to move faster. You moaned in his ear as he felt your cum washing over his cock and spilling down your bed sheets. You knee he was close when his thrust became sloppy and he started to slow down, he was about to pull out to cum im your chest when you stopped him “Please breed me” You begged in his ear, he came almost automatically, his seed spreading in your inside “I hope your birth control doesn’t work” He said as he rode out of his high, his cock softening inside of you.

He wrapped you in a warm hug “I’m going to clean everything and then leave, you need space to think” You were disappointed at his words, although you did needed to think things over, you didn’t want to think now. You grabbed his arm “Please stay tonight…” you say softly afraid to be rejected “You can leave in the morning, but please don’t leave when Im sleeping” You mumbled as you cuddled on his chest. He chuckled softly while he played with your hair “If you say so… If it was up to me, I wouldn’t leave your side eve again” With that both of you closed your eyes and drifted to a peaceful sleep.

———

A month passed and you and Minho were keeping things as friends. After all the drama that happened both of you agreed to be friends again before trying things out again. Although it was hard to keep things friendly when you had a bunch of friends who would constantly tease you. At parties they would put both of you in situations were you had to kiss each other for a dare or go in a small closet for 7 minutes. Childish games that you never thought you would be playing in college. Everything seemed to be good, Minho got a restraining order for Vanessa, she had no other choice but to transfer colleges. The pissed off face she had the day you said bye to her was definitely the highlight of the year. Although her friends apologized to you, you didn’t want to know anything about them so you agree with them to forget about each others existence.

As to Hyunjin, he started dating Rosé, it was the biggest plot twist of you life “The moment I saw him at the party I was on my knees” She squealed as she hugged a pillow “And he is a teacher…” You widen your eyes <It can’t be…> You thought as you waited for her to spill the name “Mr Hwang Hyunjin” She moaned taking you by surprise “SO HOT” She pretended to faint dramatically in your bed, making you die of laughter. Gosh you loved that woman so much.

Life was good although it felt incomplete, yeah Minho was your friend but you wanted him to be more than that, however, you didn’t want to rush things so you decided to give it time. Wait for the perfect timing to come.

———

“Nice game Lee Minho” You tease as you hug him “Thank you thank you miss y/n” He chuckled “I scored all my goals in your name, so we can say this was a two person job” You laugh at his words “How considerate of you” You faked an awe face and laughed. It was the end of the autumn sports season, Minho and his team won states and everyone was celebrating “Shouldn’t you be there celebrating? you were the mvp” You raised an eyebrow looking at him “Nah… I rather stay here and watch the sunset with you” You looked at him in admiration, even though he was all sweaty and messy you couldn’t help but find him hot “I love this field” You say out of nowhere. He turned to face you, intrigued by your words.

“Most of our adventures occurred here” You laugh at your cheesy words cringing at yourself, however, to Minho your words got to him, his eyes fixated on your smile as you stare vaguely at the sunset.

His lips soft against yours, his hand on your waist while the other is in your hair “Min-” you said surprised as you broke the kiss “Is it too soon if I ask you if I can be your boyfriend” Butterflies rushed to your stomach at his words, your cheeks matching the pink tone on his.

You kissed him and smiled through the kiss, breaking the kiss once again to stare into his brown eyes “I hope that answers your question” You both smile and stay there in silence appreciating each others company while the sun slowly disappeared through the landscape of the field.

——————————————————————

Authors Note: Let me know if you guys find any typos, I didn’t spell check most of the fic and I wrote most of it at 2am, Also suggestions are appreciated 🙏

Hope you guys enjoyed~

[earth4angels]

𝐃𝐢𝐬𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐨𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐲

𝐨𝐥𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐡𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: when she saw him, she was only twelve with a bag of bread crumbs for her birds in the park. she thought he was beautiful and funny, he saw the world differently and there was never a moment he didn’t show her the beauty of it , she just didn’t think just how much pain he held inside.

𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬: character death, blood, bullying, mentions of murder, gun violence, depression, hurt & comfort. childhood friends to lovers (kinda). miscommunications.

You first met Oliver Hide on a spring day, which ended up being a gloomy day. You did not mind, you loved to take walks after school to feed the birds at the park. It was always quiet, chirping and the low sounds of the wind was all you heard so when you found a boy around your age with his knees pressed against his chest, you stopped.

To question was wrong, but you couldn’t help to wonder why was he so sad? Why was he crying? You figured it was best to leave him be, your parents taught you to never meddle into anything that didn’t concern you. This was also a stranger.

As you backtracked, the leaves announced your departure. You winced when you saw the stranger’s head snap up from the bundle of sadness to look directly at you.

You offered a small smile filled with embarrassment, “I’m sorry.”

The stranger sniffed, wiping his eyes fast before he got up. His voice groggy, raspy from the crying he had released. “Ts’ alright…”

You opened your mouth and closed it again. You shouldn’t, you really should go home and get home before dinner but you just didn’t like the way this boy’s face was filled with so much anguish. The look did not fit him.

To hell with it.

You bit your lip before you spoke, “Are you… are you okay?”

He paused from grabbing his backpack, his eyes shaking. You saw the mental battle he was going through, the way he swallowed, or how his hands began to fiddle.

You knew better than to meddle into things that did not concern you. Mentally you slapped yourself, “I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t-“

His hand went up to stop you, “No! No it’s okay. Thank you.”

Your eyes met his again, and for some reason your heart broke at the sight of him. His eyes were blood shot, his nose red by the constant rubbing. You felt the need to hug him, to give him your comfort bunny that helped you when you felt sad.

“Do you.. do you know what helps me?”

He sniffed, the sleeve of his sweater wet yet he cleaned his runny nose. Timidly, he shook his head so slightly you almost missed it.

“Henry. My plush bunny. My mom gave me him when I broke my arm from doing cart wheels. I cried a lot but when I held him. I felt better.”

The stranger smiled with secrets you wanted to know. “That’s nice.”

You nodded with enthusiasm, you saw the way the sadness began to leave his face. So you took steps closer to him, extending your hand out with a smile on your face. You had succeeded in making his smile look more alive.

“I’m y/n! What’s your name?”

He was taller than you, his hair was nicely combed to the side with slight curls at the tips. His eyes were very pretty and you knew then, it looked better when it was filled with happiness. His hand met yours in an warm embrace, your palm smaller and warmer than his cold, bigger hand.

“Oliver. But, you can call me Ollie,” he spoke with a smile, a genuine smile that made him blush with the longer he held your hand.

You continued to smile, matching his. With your hand in his, and the sun peeking out the clouds, you felt a friendship bloom.

At the age of 12, you befriended a broken boy, who often climbed into your window to lay in your bed and whisper why he was so afraid of being alone. You made a promise one night as both of you laid side to side, watching the glowing stars you had pasted on your ceiling.

“For as long as I am alive, I will always be your friend Ollie.”

Ollie held your hand that night and with a shaky breath he pressed a kiss on the front of your hand. “Do you promise?”

You faced him, flicking his forehead, you giggled when he whined softly, “I pinky and double promise. Crossing my heart if I die, I will never leave you Ollie. I promise.”

From then, the friendship grew. Every day was a new adventure, and having you by his side made Ollie happier. He did not think so much about the problems at home or how his parents constantly neglected him. He was just glad he had you, the most prettiest girl with a bright smile and words that filled his heart with warmth. Every day, was another reason piled in his list to why it was so easy to love you.

Ollie Hide, was in love with you. And he never knew just how much you loved him. The feelings of rejection and a possible outcome where it can ruin an already beautiful friendship was all they could think of. The feelings stayed bottled inside as though every touch and every bonding experience only intensified the feelings felt deep within.

One night, as you guys finally had a sleepover, now both in freshman year of high school — you broke a news that hurt him completely. Your father had been given the opportunity to work abroad, meaning you had to leave for an year or two. That meant, leaving Ollie who was suffering yet again in quiet.

As you broke the news to him, you watched as he began to tear up. He was never afraid to cry in front of you, and you never belittled him, he was important and he made you feel comfort more than anything in the world.

“Whe-When?” he whispered, his heart felt as it stopped beating. He wished then, that when they had done surgery on his heart they made the option of feeling anything go away. His heart began to throb in such an agonizing way, he began to breathe heavily.

You wrapped your arms around him, never letting him go. That night as you cried into each others arms, you made another promise. One that was going to haunt you forever.

“Hey doofus,” you said sadly. Your heart breaking when he sniffled yet he hummed, acknowledging you. “Promise you will never forget me.”

Ollie pulled away, his tears running his pale cheeks, “How can I?”

You placed a hand on his cheek. Perhaps both of you were too young to understand how the universe worked but you knew your heart best, and down beneath all the doubt, you knew that it will always belong to Ollie.

Ollie leaned towards your palm, his eyes watching you. At 14, both of you felt the first heartbreak. And two days later, as he watched your parents drive you away from him, he cried like never before. The one thing that held him strong, and stopped all the thoughts in his head that called him useless, unwanted, a disgrace.

Ollie Hide, began to change. He lied in every text message he sent you, every video he sent you, he lied. He told you how sophomore year was amazing, and how many friends he had. He never once told you how they mocked him, the loner boy. The daddy’s boy from a weird dad.

He never once told you how he cried every night, and when he ended up in the hospital again due to stress. Rash, who noticed the symptoms, begged his father to check him in with a therapist. Ollie was silently begging to be seen again. His light was gone, you weren’t there to hold him, to distract him with your non stop rambles how the stars had a story.

You never doubted him. You never asked questions because you trusted him. He would never lie. However, Ollie from the good of his heart did not want to burden you. So he continued to lie, even when social media came for him and made him into a joke, he filmed videos of himself with a smile on his face.

You never doubted anything. But, Ollie… was not himself anymore. The longer the days went, the more his mental health declined. Rosa was gone, and it was as if every important person kept leaving him. His father deep lost in his work to avoid the issues at home never questioned him.

On the summer before Junior year, you had come back. You ran to his house and what you saw made you stop dead in your tracks. Ollie had grown out his hair, and what was his neutral, warm colored clothes, was now all in dark. His eyes had lost the shine, the spark that you had fallen for. In his eyes, he was dead, the eyebags were visible.

“Ollie?” you whispered, unsure.

He turned around slowly, refusing to believe you were there. There you stood, in your hands held a gift for him and you were beautiful. His eyes scanned you, his heart beating fast.

“Y/n?” Ollie questioned, his steps stumbling towards you before he ran towards you where he wrapped you into his arms. You began to sob as you tighten your hands around him.

“I’ve missed you.”

You laughed as tears rolled down your cheeks, “I have missed you doofus!”

“Yo! Ollie! Come on.”

You raised your head from his chest, noticing a boy standing a couple feet away. This boy gave your heart a tug, like a piercing sharp pain gutted you. He raised all the flags in your head.

Ollie swallowed, letting you go, he slightly smiled. You knew better, this smile was fake.

“I’ve gotta go, I’ll see you later?” Ollie asked, he was walking backwards, his eyes avoided yours now. You began to question his behavior, his appearance, where was the Ollie from a year and a half go?

You only nodded, your throat constricting. He left, his steps stomping on your confused heart. Something was wrong and you did not know what it was. Yet, you knew if there was something, Ollie would tell you. He never lied to you.

The summer ended, and you hardly saw him. There was always a different excuse, but you knew. Rob was always in the picture, and whatever he did, murdered the kind, pure heart your bestfriend carried.

“I don’t know why you can’t see it Ollie!” you screamed at him one afternoon after school. You only watched Ollie as he bit into his nail, his hand rubbing his neck in anxiety.

“See what? I don’t understand…” he spoke softly, igniting the fire you held inside. You were angry over the fact your bestfriend was changing and he himself could not see it.

You sighed annoyed, and you began to laugh in disbelief, “How?! How can you not see what’s going on?! You haven’t spoken to me all summer! You barely even acknowledge me!”

Ollie bit the inner skin of his cheek, his heart breaking. He couldn’t harm you, he couldn’t make you a target. He did not want the bullying to get to you just because you were his friend. You did not deserve that. You deserved more. You were more important than his needs. He needed you. He needed to tell you, to yell how much he loved you. How every letter, every photo you guys together he kept in a box where he could go through every night before bed and wonder what could be.

He did what he knew best, avoided the situation. “You know nothing Y/n. Please go home.”

You scoffed, shaking your head, disappointed, hurt and sadness swallowing your heart, you stepped away from him.

“You promised Ollie,” you reminded him. A tear finally slipping out your socket.

He looked down, he bounced on his feet, the anxiety eating him. He never once made eye contact, knowing that if he did, he would never let go.

“I’m keeping a promise,” he muttered, “So please, leave me alone.”

He turned and walked inside, leaving you outside with your second heartbreak and occuring non stop questions. Inside, Ollie slid down towards the floor, he began to sob. He was going to protect you with all he could. That was the promise he made to himself.

You never found out about the bullying Ollie suffered, and it was a shock. But, it also didn’t help that you avoided the shadowed boy. You stuck to yourself, ears plugged in as music blasted through them.

On a cloudy day, you went to your class. Natalia, who was a friend you met through Ollie two years ago, laughed about something funny she saw on a tv show. You feigned a laugh, your eyes scanning for a certain boy. Enough was enough.

You were going to snap some sense into Ollie, whether he liked it or not, but you were not going to lose him. As you settled in class, you forgot about Ollie, immersed into the debate your classmates were going through.

You pulled out your phone and sneakily, sent a message to the one that held your heart.

I am not letting go Ollie. Meet me after school by the treehouse.

As you and Ollie built your friendship, you built new places to hang out, and that included an abandoned tree house you found one day as you walked through the woods. Ollie, being the kindest boy offered to check it out first. Since then, the treehouse was your secret hide out.

You never received a response. You knew he had gotten it though and so you hoped, this was going to change his way of acting. Class was peaceful, of course not without Jack making loud comments about the lesson that had your teacher rolling her eyes every two seconds.

As you giggled over the comment your teacher said you heard a loud bang. Loud bangings. You jumped, your classmates became silent then. You couldn’t hear anything then. Until, yelling and scared chatters hit your ears. Something was happening.

Your teacher smiled as she kept the peace, “Alright guys, it’s probably nothing, stay here. Let me check it out.”

A ping had arrived to your phone then and as you pulled your phone to check the notification, you heard the sounds of glass shattering. You turned to look at Natalia who held the same expression you held — fear. This was a shooting.

Your teacher acted fast, she moved in a way you never seen her act before. She commanded the class to move underneath the desks, away from the windows that overlooked into the classroom. She shut the windows closed and had every single one of you quiet down.

You held onto Natalia’s hand, the fear reaching your ears as you began to hear the thumps of your heart. What felt like an eternity, you begged to be given a chance to see your family again, you did not want to die and not be given a opportunity to declare how much you loved Ollie Hide. You needed to tell him.

“We can run outside!” Jack whispered, panicked that no one was coming for them. Your teacher leaned against the door, watching over you all, her eyes trembling yet she never faltered.

“You stay there Jack! All of you!”

Jack began to mutter in fear, another round of bullets was heard. You began to go into a state of panic, your brain was beginning to go into a daze. Natalia hugged you, as she whispered something you did not understand.

All you could think of was Ollie. Was he okay? Did he make it outside? Did he survive? Is he hiding? As your brain wondered. Jack and your classmates ran outside, all of them swallowed by the fear of dying if they stayed in the classroom. Your teacher shouted, her voice was ignored.

“Stay here girls, please don’t leave until someone comes to get you. Promise me?”

“Don’t go!” Natalia shouted, “You can be killed!”

Your teacher who you admired, and you found to have been the kindest to help you out when you needed it, smiled. A tear slipped her eye, “I have to try and save as much as I can — stay here okay? I’ll be back, I promise.”

It was as if, promises were meant to break.

As you and Natalia hid underneath the piles of chairs and desks, you heard screams closer than usual and multiple shots. You knew better than to be hopeful. Your classmates, ones you were joking with earlier that day, some of them were never going to graduate high school. They will never be parents, or have a dream come true, they will never ever know the pain of loss, or the feeling of loving someone so hard they forget the world spins. They will never have a chance to live.

You released a shaky breath as you held onto your friend. Your brain going over a prayer. If you make it out alive you were going to punch Ollie in the face and kiss him. You will make every moment worth it.

As you say there, you heard the door open. You closed your eyes, leaning your head towards Natalia. If you were going to die, you will die recalling a memory you treasured the most.

“Ollie?” you whispered one night, your voice quiet as both of you hid under the house you built out of blankets. At a distance you heard David arguing with Rosa again.

Ollie swallowed, his breath coming out in shaky wisps.

“Yeah?”

“When we’re older, promise we will still be friends?”

Ollie smiled into the shadows of the dark, he pulled you close, his skinny hand ruffling your hair as he released a sad chuckle, “You will never get rid of me.”

When you heard nothing but the gasp of your friend, you opened your eyes. You recalled that promise, your heart breaking in tiny pieces as you faced the barrel of the gun. Your eyes met with a certain pair that never failed to make you feel flutters in your stomach.

As Ollie, your best friend, your first love, held the gun with tears in his eyes, you released the first sound since the first gun shot. A loud sob.

Ollie looked at you and then at Natalia. You were sobbing now, your hands covering your mouth as you took him in. Your funny, bright bestfriend who joked about the smallest things, and looked after everyone than himself.

The gun didn’t fit him, he wasn’t the shooter. You refused to believe that. Ollie squeezed his eyes and when he reopened them, he looked different. You did not know who he was.

“Clear?!” Rob screamed from across the hall. Ollie said nothing before he shouted back.

“Clear!”

You scrambled to reach him, Natalia held you back. Ollie looked back at you, his eyes dark, lost. He was warning you to stay back. You choked on a sob again as you watched him go, his white sneakers filled with blood. You catched a glimpse at Rob, covered in blood, who said something and left to go the opposite direction.

You refused Natalia’s hold, “I have to get him! It can’t be him Nat…”

“You’re gonna be killed if you go y/n! You can’t go.”

You cried, “I have to try, that’s my bestfriend Nat… I can’t loose him.”

Your feet moved on its own as you ran down the hall towards the staircase, your mind blocking the scattered bodies of your classmates, you refused to believe it was real. It was a dream, you kept repeating.

Your feet hurt as you ran, but you needed to save him. You needed to get to Ollie. As soon as your feet crossed the door to the staircase you heard sobbing, mutters that were in gibberish. You had found him.

“Ollie…” you whispered.

Ollie gasped as he stood up. He began to shake his head, his muttering becoming more unstable, you could not understand him. You stepped closer as he put out a hand, his other hand loosely held onto the shotgun.

“Please… Please save me.”

You cried as you stepped closer, another step closer to reaching him.

“Take it Y/n… please. I can’t…. I don’t… I’m scared. I can’t die…”

Ollie finally looked at you, his eyes filled to the brim with tears, your heart broke once again. Your bestfriend, your first love, lost in his pain.

“Give me the gun Ollie…”

As he was handing you the gun, you heard the rushed steps of feet running up the stairs. The fear you held began to boil again. Finding yourself locking eyes with Rob, who held nothing but anger in his eyes, you didn’t realize the panic Ollie’s eyes went through.

Rob wasted no time but to shoot, and you were too late to run behind the door. The bullet shot through your lower stomach. At first you felt as you fell into a large comforter, and then you saw a flash of white. What you felt next was something that left you wheezing in non stop pain, the bullet has implanted itself in you. Your life was slipping and you just felt regret.

You recalled every promise you made with Ollie. The moments you had with your parents, and your friends. The laughter you shared with them, the cries you gave even if it was over a silly thing. All these memories and emotions flew through, and as you laid on the floor, wheezing through the pain, your heart slowing down one beat at a time. Your hand reached over to Ollie’s. You couldn’t find him, just how you couldn’t find the pain he was going through.

Ollie fought with Rob, and he almost won, if it wasn’t for the rail that threw him over the staircase. He just had one thought, what could have been if only he spoke with honesty of what he was feeling.

As both of you laid in different parts, the life slipping away from your fingers. Your heart’s beated slowly together, as if it was reuniting one last time. And for a moment it did, because the moment you allowed the white cloud wrap around you, Ollie smiled as he felt the warmth of your laugh wrap around him.

The two teenagers were rushed to the hospital, Natalia cried as she ran with you both. She was not going to reveal what had happened. She couldn’t, she knew and believed Ollie was not evil but she also couldn’t hurt you.

As nurses and doctors rushed to work in bringing your hearts back to life, the teenagers that laid in different rooms felt the soul bond loosened. The nurses spoke in sadness how the hands laid loosely over the bed, as if they searched for each other.

As Rash, the doctor that bonded with Ollie more than anyone, worked on a CPR on Ollie, he watched with tears in his eyes how neither of you responded. The dead line on the screen mocking him. And finally, after minutes, the line curved slightly.

The doctors that worked with you, all screamed in relief as you also responded back to life. Rash knew, just as with how Ollie talked of you, both of you were soulmates. He knew that nothing, not even death was going to rip both of you apart.

You had gained another chance at life, and you knew you were going to make every second of it count.

Natalia who watched as one came to live, then the other, sobbed loudly. Her mother wrapped her into her arms. Natalia had decided then, she was never going to reveal Ollie as the one shooter and as another classmate that survived was alive and responding, he recalled of the horrors that happened.

He spoke of the shooters, how he saw one shoot through his friends with no remorse screaming how they deserved it, and the other, the quiet boy who shoved the extra bullets into his pockets and shot through the walls instead. His eyes blinking away the tears that fell.

As the sun peeked through the windows, a chance to recover the lost time. To fix what was broken, was edging you awake. You woke up groggy, moaning that the sun was too bright. As you rolled over you found the mop of curly hair by your side.

You got up confused, till you realized it was a dream you had. You believed in the signs, warnings, how the universe will warn you of these butterfly effects. Since you had come back to town, you noticed the changes that your best friend has been going through.

You knew then, what could happen, whether it’s death or not, be prevented. As you reached over and laid a hand on the pale cheek of your bestfriend who softly snored away, you made a new promise.

“I will guard you with my life, and I promise to show you life is worth living.”

ollie nation tag list: @hxtd @mckennah123 @cieraerickson8 @oroborosfeast

natties angels permanent list: @yohanseyebrowmole @mthrgs29

[sunsetchicane]

cowboy like me [LN4]

lando x fem!reader

word count: 8.2k

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

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

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

~~~

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And just like that the work day starts.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You don’t even want to go riding with me, you just want me to be your guide,” I feign an accusation as we approach a small crowd of people on the large front deck of the Buxtons glorious ranch home. I see a few ranch hands and two other men that I don’t know, who must be Wyatt’s friends.

“You are the best guide out here.” His backhanded compliment earns him an eye roll. As we approach the house, he tells me to wait for a second while he calls over his friends. Their heads turn quickly to the two of us when Wyatt calls to them. They say hasty goodbyes to the staff they were chatting with before walking over to Wyatt and I. One is tall and pale, with pale eyes, and pale hair. His cheeks are flushed a slight pink from the chill that still hangs in the spring air. He looks lively and excited, his eyes bouncing around from one thing to another at lightning speed.

The other man is shorter with cropped, dark, curly hair. His hazel eyes are sharp and brilliant against his tanned skin. As he draws nearer, I can tell that he’s very physically fit. He’s wearing a tight long sleeve shirt that hugs his arms, brand new boot cut jeans, and a shiny pair of boots that have obviously never been worn. His eyes, unlike his friend, don’t wander while he walks over to us; they stay trained on me. A small smile falls across his pretty pink lips as he finds me watching him swagger his way over. He’s attractive.

“Never seen a British boy in cowboy boots before,” I say when they stop in front of us, glancing down at the brunette's footwear. When my eyes flick up to his, he still hasn’t stopped looking at me. Clearing my throat, I extend a hand to the blonde.

“Hi, y/n,” I introduce myself while shaking his hand.

“Mitchel,” he says, his accent is sharp and acutely German, which takes me by surprise. I nod, casting him a warm smile. I watch as Mitchel’s eyes flick to Wyatt over my shoulder. Following suit, I catch Wy smiling like a fool and a slight blush that I don’t think has anything to do with the weather coating his cheeks. When he sees me looking at him, he quickly crosses his arms and looks away. My smile widens. Mitchel drops my hand and then stuffs his back into his pockets.

“Y/n,” I say to Wyatt’s other friend who has a bit of a staring problem. He takes my hand in his slowly.

“Lando Norris,” He says crisply, his accent confirming my previous assessment. “Nice to finally meet you, y/n.”

His name catches in my mind, as if I’ve heard it before but I can’t place it. Wyatt must have mentioned him at some point, but for the life of me I can’t remember what about. A moment passes and our hands stay held together in the space between us as I try to place him. My eyes scan over his face and catalog his freckles and scars and the way his eyes sparkle when he smiles. When it dawns on me that I’m now the one with a staring problem, I swiftly pull my hand from his. Briefly, his jaw clenches.

“Finally, huh?” I take his previous statement and run with it. Turning my back to Lando, I glance over at Wyatt. “Just what have you been saying about me?”

“All good things, all good things,” Wy assures me while coming up to clasp me on the shoulder. He leans into me with a big smile that makes my stomach churn at the thought of what he’s actually told his friends. What does Lando think of me? Why does it matter what Lando thinks of me?

“Well,” I say quickly, trying to shake the thought of Lando from my head. “I suppose we should get going if we want to be back by sundown.”

The three boys nod their heads in agreement. The four of us walk over to the stables. Wyatt and Mitchel walk slowly behind me as they chit chat and laugh. Casting a glance over my shoulder at them, I watch as their shoulders bump together and their fingers brush intentionally. I bite my lip to keep myself from smiling. Wyatt’s alway had a hard time with romance and partnership just because of where we grew up and the hate he received for simply being himself. Seeing him this way, happy and smitten, makes me feel proud. It affirms that his leaving was necessary in so many ways.

“How long have you been working here?” Lando’s voice pulls me from my thoughts. My attention slides over to him. He’s come up to my left, his hands folded behind his back. His eyes are wide and curious as he looks at me. I can’t help but feel like I’m being analyzed.

“Seven years. But I’ve been on the ranch all my life. I took riding lessons from Willa and then became fast friends with Wyatt,” I tell him while pulling my eyes from his. Returning his gaze seems difficult, so I keep my eyes trained on the stable. He hums in acknowledgement of my response. I can feel his eyes on me still.

“Do you work at McLaren with Wyatt?” I ask my new acquaintance. He chuckles to himself a little, his pretty eyes squinting from his large smile.

“Yeah, you could say that,” he says, making me feel like I’m missing something. I scoff at his vague response, but don’t press the issue. If he wanted to explain himself, he would. His aura is interesting. He seems so sure of himself, completely at ease with who he is. It’s captivating.

We make it to the entrance of the stable and I instruct Lando and Mitchel to take a seat while Wyatt and I saddle up the horses. It takes us a while to get everyone ready for the trail ride, but with every passing minute, the more excited I get. Wyatt and I used to go out on the trails all the time. During the summer as teenagers, we would stuff our packs full of camping supplies and go for days at a time. Those memories are my most cherished possessions, things that I will never forget. Now whenever I take others up there, I feel as though I’m bearing a part of my soul to them.

Once we’re done getting everything ready, Wyatt leads his and Mitchel’s horses, Rudy and Molly, outside with Mitchel in tow. This leaves me alone with Lando. My stomach twists nervously when I feel his presence looming to my right.

“Ever ridden before?” I ask while petting Luna, a beautiful sorrel tovero paint. She’s older, but strong and steady, a good horse for a beginner.

“Yeah, loads,” Lando says while joining me in stroking Luna. I cast him a critical glance. If he sees it, he ignores me. Rolling my eyes, I really can’t tell if he’s being serious or not. It’s important to know what you’re doing while working with large animals. I make the mental note to keep him in my line of sight at all times while riding.

“Oh, good. Then you’ll be good to lead Ms. Luna out? She’s yours for the day,” I tell him while handing over the reins. I watch his adam's apple bob and his eyebrows lift slightly before nodding and accepting the reins from my hand. When his fingers brush over mine, goosebumps run across my arm. Quickly, I pull my hand away and turn towards Beau, my stallion for today. Fiddling aimlessly with his bridle, I wait until the steps of Luna and Lando have disappeared before releasing a breath. Leaning my forehead against Beau’s neck, I sigh at my stupid behavior. Am I really so touch starved that I get goosebumps at my finger brushing against his? That’s sad.

I take Beau’s reins in my hand and start leading him out to the waiting pack of boys. Just as I’m about to exit the stables, I look over at Jupe. He’s looking at me like he knows exactly what’s going on in my mind.

“Don’t give me attitude,” I tell him.

He just blinks at me.

Beau and I join everyone. Wyatt’s running Mitchel through the basics while Lando watches on. He’s pretending to not be listening by petting Luna and quietly talking to her, but I still catch the way he glances over when Wy demonstrates something. I walk around and do a quick double check on everyone’s gear before returning to Beau’s side. With the ease of muscle memory that I don’t think I’ll ever lose, I toss myself up and onto the saddle. Wyatt assists Mitchel into his saddle before climbing into his own. Lando glances over at me before sliding his foot into the stirrup and attempting to pull himself up. He looks out of his depth and slightly awkward as he hauls himself onto the saddle seat. Biting back a laugh, I click my tongue and squeeze my legs a little to get Beau to move for me. The two of us saunter up next to Lando. His easy continence is long gone, replaced by nerves and uncertainty. His hands shake as he grabs onto the reins incorrectly.

“Here, like this,” I correct while reaching out to his hands. My fingers pry his anxious fists open and fix where he’s holding the leather cord. I’m surprised to find calluses littering his palms, a mirror of my own. I maneuver his palm to rest in the right way so he doesn’t agitate Luna. I can feel Lando watching me as I touch and hold his hands. I’ve done this a hundred times when teaching lessons, but this is the first time that I feel an uncomfortable blush creeping onto my cheeks. Lando’s presence has me off axis, spinning out of my routine. I’ve known him for maybe an hour and he’s already getting under my skin.

“Just trust Luna, she knows the way,” I say quietly as I pull away from him. He bites at his lip but nods along with my words. Smiling as warmly as I can, I leave his side to ride up to Wyatt. However, I can’t help but glance back over my shoulder at him. He’s not looking at me, thankfully. Instead, his eyes are trained on his hands as he flexes them on the reins the way I showed him. His focus is endearing, almost cute.

But when his eyes rise to find mine, I snap my head forward in hopes that he didn’t catch me staring at him. The last thing I need is to develop some sort of childish crush on a stranger that I’ll never see again after a few days. I just have to keep my head down and my thoughts off of him.

“Time’s wasting!” Wyatt calls to me, letting me know that everyone is ready to go. Nodding, I take the lead while Wyatt falls to the back. We keep Mitchel and Lando between us so they don’t get caught straying off the path.

Going out for a ride is one of my favorite things. I love going into the mountains, walking along the thin paths, and enjoying the earth. As we go, I hear Mitchel and Wyatt quietly chatting at the back of the pack. However, once we get to the treeline, their voices fall away from my earshot. My senses are overcome by our surroundings. The budding trees are gorgeous as they filter the sunlight into sultry beams that fall onto the new grass along the sides of the gravel path.

“Beautiful,” I hear Lando speak for the first time since we left. I’ve been distracted thankfully, leaving me free from his effect on me. Now, though, I find myself turning to the side to look at him as he comes up next to me. I’m surprised to find him staring at me instead of the lively forest that hems us in. A thought that he might be making a comment about me instead of the scenery flashes through my mind. Quickly, I shove the absurd thought away and chalk it up to wishful thinking.

“It is,” I agree, giving him a small smile. He chuckles a little before turning to look around him. Suddenly, I’m acutely aware of him. Somehow he adds to the already perfect scene around me. His hair is being ruffled by the slight, cool breeze, which also lends his skin a gorgeous pink flush. Bright hazel eyes track the swishing branches and fluttering wildlife. His muscles are on display as he engages them to ride Luna. He looks less stiff than he did earlier, as if he’s finding himself at ease here. The idea makes me giddy. I find myself agreeing with Lando’s previous assessment. Beautiful.

“See something you like, cowgirl?” Lando laughs when he catches me staring at him yet again. My eyes go wide and my mouth parts as I scramble for a proper response, a defense, anything. There’s just something about him that makes it nearly impossible to look away. I think I’d like to be able to see him a lot more.

“Cowgirl?” Is all I can come up with. It’s not an inaccurate title, but the way he said it made it sound different. It was tacked onto his question almost like an endearment, or a tease. I laugh a little at his choice of words and the way it sounds in his accent.

“I see a lot of things I like, cowboy. You’ll have to be more specific,” I challenge. This successfully pulls a proper laugh from him. It’s the type of laugh that sends birds flying frantically from their perches and the creatures hidden in the grass scurrying away. It’s impossible to not laugh along with him. My heart flutters and I have to hold on tighter to my reins so I don’t fall off the saddle.

“I may be a lot of things, but I am no cowboy,” he corrects. I nod while continuing to laugh.

“I could have told you that,” I confirm while adjusting my hat.

“Oh really?” Lando says, urging me to explain myself. He tilts his head to the side while his mouth pulls into a closed lipped smile.

“If the brand new jeans and boots didn’t give you away, then you’re riding definitely does. You ride stiff as a board,” I inform him while glancing down at his boots and jeans. His denim clad thighs are tight around Luna’s middle, tense muscles visible through the fabric.

“Alright, teach me then,” he says, his free hand coming to rest on his hip. “Cowgirl.”

I roll my eyes at his words once again, but am resolved to help him nonetheless. There’s nothing like going out and being able to ride properly. I want to ask him why he lied to me about his experience with riding, but I don’t want to bruise his ego any further. Trying something new is challenging enough, and if he’s willing to learn, then I don’t want to jeopardize that.

“Keep sitting up straight, but relax your body. Your hips should shift back and forth in the seat a little. Don’t fight what feels natural. Just watch me,” I tell him. His eyes slide slowly from my face down to my hips. I watch as his eyes track my hips back and forth just slightly with Beau’s steps. Lando’s breathing goes uneven and his bottom lip disappears between his teeth. He’s staring at me like there’s nothing else he’d ever want to look at. It makes my heart race and nerves flutter in my stomach. I hadn’t really thought about the more sensual implications of having him watch my hips, but it seems rather obvious now. However, I don’t really mind the way he’s looking at me, or the way his focus is completely attuned to me. Selfishly, I really wish he wouldn’t look at anything else ever again. But that can’t happen.

“Eyes up, cowboy,” I tell him after a few more seconds of letting him watch. “Go ahead.”

Clearing his throat, he shifts a little in the saddle before settling in to do what I asked. I don’t miss the way he avoids looking me in the eye, as if he’s embarrassed. Have I flustered him? The thought makes me just a tiny bit proud. He doesn’t seem like the type to be flustered easily. He sits up straight and attempts to relax his body. His lower half starts to shift the right way, looking more natural and less jerky than before. Indulging myself, I watch for a few more seconds. I bite the inside of my cheek as he rocks back and forth in the saddle. My mind goes wandering to places that I shouldn’t be thinking about with a man I’ve only known for a day. Less than a day. And yet, I can’t stop myself.

“Maybe we’ll make a real cowboy out of you yet, Lando Norris,” I tell him after I’ve noticed improvements. His focus fractures and he looks over to me.

“I think I’d like that,” He shoots back, a sly smile accompanying his words. The look twists my stomach into nervous knots. There’s something about him, something intangible, that draws you in. Maybe it’s charm or charisma, or maybe it’s just the way he was made. Whatever the circumstances or reasons are, it’s not fair. I feel as though I have hardly a fighting chance to ward off any sort of desire that’s bubbling to the surface. I want to keep getting to know him; I want to teach him anything he asks; I want to never let go of the way he makes me feel.

The walk back to the ranch grounds is much faster than I would have liked. Lando chats with me the entire way back about this and that. He’s smart and funny and my chances of not having a crush on him grow slimmer with every passing minute I spend with him. When we get back to the stables, I find myself taking much longer than I normally would to put everything away. Mitchel and Wyatt decided that a fire would be the best way to end the night, so they ran out to get it started while Lando and I finished up with the horses. He tried his best to help, but kept getting distracted by visiting all of the stalls.

“Who’s this?” Lando says as I finish putting away the last saddle. I say a quick goodbye to Beau before heading down to the last stall near the open barn doors. Lando is standing in front of Jupe’s stall, his arms crossed over his chest. I stop next to him, leaving an appropriate amount of space between us, even though I want to come up right next to him and press my shoulder to his.

“This is Jupe. He’s our newest. Bit ornery, but a good boy,” I say while reaching my hand out to pat Jupe’s head. He brays at my touch, but doesn’t pull away. I give him a quick kiss on the nose and coddle him a little. Positive reinforcement does wonders.

“My turn,” Lando says from behind me. Astounded, I turn my face toward him. He’s insinuating that he wants me to kiss him. My brain short circuits at the thought. He’s just standing there with his arms still crossed over his chest and a stupid smile playing across his handsome face. I scoff at his joke, trying not to let on how much it affected me.

“Careful what you wish for, you might end up with a stall of your own,” I jab back. However, keeping him here doesn’t seem like the worst idea in the world.

“Being praised, kissed, and ridden by you? Sounds like these guys are living the dream,” Lando says. My jaw hangs loose as his words hit me like a freight train. Shock courses through me, leaving me beyond speechless. Is he being serious? Who says things like that? I blink at him, unsure of how to continue. I can’t lie and say that the images that popped into my head when he spoke were entirely unpleasant. If he’s being serious, there’s a lot to consider here. I could deny my feelings and spare myself the heartache. Or the alternative, which is letting my emotions get the better of me. This would mean that in a few days after spending time together, I would have to deal with heartbreak and come to terms with the fact that I’ll maybe never see him again. Or maybe I could, if there’s something really here. Maybe I have to give into hope for once. There’s never really been anyone who I’ve put ahead of my goals or dreams. I’ve never been tempted to stray from my path by anyone. Sure, I’ve gone out with guys, had a boyfriend for a while. But if something didn’t line up, I made cuts so my life would fit together how I needed it to. Suddenly now, as I stand here in this stable with a man I met only hours ago, I’m finding myself bending my rules for the first time. I don’t think I’ve ever been more scared in my whole life.

“Alright, cowboy,” I say while taking a tentative step toward him, I’m ready to play this little game of his. His hands have fallen to his side, so I gently slide my fingers into his. Shining eyes lock onto mine. His tan skin is set aglow by the dying sunrise, highlighting the ridges and curves of his face. I want to memorize every freckle, every line, every corner of him. I’m lost in the way his hand feels around mine and in the way he’s looking at me, and I don’t ever want to find my way out. One of his fingers comes to the front of my hat and pushes the brim up. He draws closer now, his face mere inches from mine. His jaw flexes and his large neck muscles twitch with tension as he dips his head down just enough for his lips to hover over mine.

“We have a fire to get to,” I finish my earlier thought in a whisper. With hooded eyes, I look into his wide ones. Smiling smally, I step away from him. Adjusting my hat back to its original place, I begin walking out the door. Lando is hauled after me with my hand still grasped in his. Giddiness takes me over as I walk hand in hand with him towards the fire pit near the house. My small smile breaks into a much larger one as I pick up my pace, breaking into a jog. Lando’s hand clasps around mine tighter as he adjusts to the new pace. A laugh bubbles from my chest as I bring my free hand to hold onto my hat as I run harder. A sense of carefreeness has corrupted my usual serious disposition. Rarely do I feel as free as I do now. Lando’s lightness has infected me, and I can’t help but fall in love with how it’s buoyed my spirits. It feels like the first hit of a drug; it’s the type of high I’ll be chasing for the rest of my life.

As we approach the house, I can hear Wyatt’s laugh ring out from around the corner to the back. Just as we’re about to turn that last corner, Lando’s arms reach around my waist, stopping me from moving another inch. His chest hits my back with no small amount of force, tossing my hat from my head. I’m bent over in his arms as both of our laughs pull the last threads of air from our tired lungs. He hauls us both upright and my head falls back against his shoulder. I suck in a deep breath of the cool, dusk air. It cools me from the inside out. A feeling stirs deep in my stomach as I stare up into the sky while basking in the feeling of Lando’s arms wrapped around me.

Belonging.

It’s something I’ve been chasing my whole life; a sense of knowing where I belong and who I am. And now I feel as though I’ve finally found it: a home; a place to belong; a knowledge of exactly who I am.

Once we’ve regulated our breathing, I break out of his arms. Leaving them isn’t what I want, and as I pull away, I immediately feel much colder. However, we have to accompany Wyatt and Mitchel before they grow suspicious. Carefully, I pick up my hat, but don’t place it back on my head.

“Are you coming?” I ask quickly, tossing a glance to Lando over my shoulder. He shakes his head with a smile, but follows me around the corner without a word. Wyatt’s eyes find us over the roaring fire he’s built. Mitchel is seated right next to him on a log, a thick blanket spread over their laps. Between the warmth of the fire, the blanket, and the present company, I know that the nighttime chill won’t be able to touch me. As I approach Wyatt, he reaches to the side to pick up another blanket with a couple beers and s’mores supplies stacked on top. I accept it with a quick thank you before plopping down on the log next to them. Lando saunters after me, slowly taking a seat to my right.

“Hold this?” I ask while placing the blanket onto his lap. Gently, I set my hat down behind me, then reach over my shoulder to grab the end of my braid. I pull the elastic from the end and go about undoing the braid.

“So, Lando, how was the ride for you?” Wy asks as he brings his beer to his lips. My eyes are on the fire as he speaks, my mind slipping out of focus for a brief moment while I concentrate on my hair. But I’m aware of the fact that Lando doesn’t answer. When I turn to look at him, I find his eyes already on me, following my fingers as they finish pulling out my braid. I run my fingers through my roots to shake out the nasty hat hair that I undoubtedly have.

“Lando?” Wyatt laughs.

“What?” Lando says as he snaps out of his dazed state. His eyes go wide as they shift over to Wyatt who’s chuckling to himself. A goofy smile breaks across Lando’s face as Wyatt restates his question.

“I think I might have to switch professions,” Lando says, his eyes flicking down to me. The fire is lighting his skin with a warm glow. The flames flash lazily in his glossy eyes.

“I think it would be best for you to stick with McLaren,” I joke while cracking both of our cold beers. With a small smile, I hand over one of the bottles to a slightly offended Lando. Laughing to myself, I nudge his shoulder and click the neck of my beer to his. The liquid is cold and fresh against my lips, sending the perfect chill cascading down into my neck and chest.

“Yeah, mate, I think it’s best if you stay in the cockpit rather than the saddle,” Mitchel adds. “Play to your strengths and all that.”

The cockpit? As in the cockpit of a Formula One car? The realization hits me with all the grace of a drunk elephant. Lando Norris; I recognized his name earlier because Wyatt works as an engineer for a driver named Lando Norris. A Formula One driver named Lando Norris. With wide eyes, I stare forward into the fire. Every possibility that I’ve just dreamt up has suddenly become nothing but a fantasy. My body tenses as it physically revolts against my idiocy and naivety. Reality settles into my bones and I have to chide myself for being so stupid to ignore it for as long as I have. Not only did I ignore it, but I created a work of fiction where maybe we could end up together.

“Shit,” I hear Lando breathe next to me. His face is one I don’t recognize, one of seriousness. For the few hours that I’ve known him, which feel more like years, I haven’t seen him lose that little spark that makes him so him. Now it’s nowhere to be seen. He didn’t want me to know that he was a professional driver, one of the most elite in the whole world. It stings because I don’t understand exactly what his intentions were and it allowed me the space to concoct some seriously messed up notions. There’s no way that anything could happen between us now. It’s hard enough to maintain a friendship of years over an ocean with an engineer; imagine trying to hold together a relationship with a driver across continents and seas that constantly change. However, I can’t justify being angry with him. It is his life to be in the public eye constantly. If he came out here to not be recognized for a while and to be treated like just a normal guy, then who am I to deny him that. I just wish he would have given me the opportunity to do that with knowing who he really is. Now I’m stuck with feelings that I know won’t go away in a hurry and thorough embarrassment.

The rest of the night passes monotonously. Wyatt and Mitchel are wrapped up into their own little world, so they hardly notice the ever eroding gap that suddenly formed between Lando and I. We chat a little, but it’s not the same anymore. Roasting marshmallows has suddenly become my new favorite thing because it gives me an excuse to not look at him. I know that if I do, I’ll start to adore his curly hair and the scar over the bridge of his nose and the way that he looks right into your soul with his pretty eyes. I know that if I dare to look at him, I’ll start to believe in fiction once again. That’s not something I can allow; I won’t be the person who falls in love with the idea of something they can never have.

I won’t be the person that falls for someone they can never have.

Wyatt and Mitchel bid us goodnight before walking hand in hand into the house. Envy flares in my chest, jealousy turning my heart an ugly shade of green. The crackling of the dying fire and the rustling of wind through the grass and trees are the only things that greet my ears. Usually, I would be incredibly fond of this quietness. But now, it simply feels like a life sentence of silence. And once again, as the world turns to night, I feel the loneliness creep in at the edges. The night chill has crept into my fingers and toes, slowly creeping inward.

“I’m sorry,” Lando’s voice is gravelly from lack of use. “I should have…”

“You should have,” I agree. My voice isn’t harsh or condescending, it’s soft, softer than I’ve ever heard it. “I understand, though. I just wish I had known before…”

My voice trails off and gets blown away with the smoke that floats lazily into the atmosphere. Clouds have collected across the sky, cutting the stars from our view. With a melancholy heart, I can’t help but admit how fitting that is. I suppose we really weren’t written in the stars. We are the opposite of destined.

Lando’s hand wraps around my cold fingers, but instead of warming me, it burns. The kiss he leaves on my knuckles feels as though my hand was dipped into the embers of a fire. Blinking back the prick in my eyes from impending tears, I watch his face fall into a frown. I hate the way his eyebrows are creased in the middle and the concern that’s painfully evident in his stubborn eyes. It’s not the look I wanted from him tonight. It’s not the face that’s become my brand new favorite. It’s not Lando.

“How long are you staying for?” I find myself asking. I have to know how long I’ll have to endure his presence. But what’s worse: having him here and knowing I can’t have him, or watching him leave and knowing that I’ll never have him?

“We leave on Monday,” he says. Just for the weekend then. I’ll only have to see him on Monday and then I’ll be free of him. I know he’ll torment me in my sleep, when I see someone walking down the street who looks a little like him, when I look at Luna. I’ll never truly escape him.

“Alright,” I mumble. A beat passes without any more conversation. Then Lando’s hand is slipping under my hair and around the side of my neck. My head turns toward him, his touch unprompted and sending a wave of goosebumps across my skin.

“I’m sorry, but I have to know. Just once and then we can put it away forever. Alright?” He’s closing that gap between us, both physically and emotionally. His face slows as it hovers in front of mine. My breathing has ceased and fear has seized my heart. Is this the right thing to do? Or will it make it worse?

“Alright,” I find myself agreeing without thinking. Maybe I have to know, too, if this is everything I think it is; if this really is everything that I’m losing.

His kiss is light at first, lips just barely brushing mine. It’s soft and gentle as he uses his hand to bring my face closer to his. When his lips are fully on mine, my mind bursts into stars and streams of color. He kisses me with quiet passion, slow and strong. That belonging that I felt when he had his arms around me flares back to life in my chest. His fingers flex under my jaw, holding onto me tighter like he’s scared I’ll slip out of his grip. Which I am. When we break away from our first and last kiss, I feel as we filter through each other’s fingertips. We’re lost now, never to be found.

A crack in my chest sends me to my feet. Tears suddenly blur my vision.

“Goodbye, Lando,” I find myself saying, my words taking every bit of strength I have left. As I turn away from him for the last time, I find myself wishing I'd have said no to his kiss. As I walk away from him for the last time, I know now that I’m losing the one real thing I’ve ever known.

The truth is he isn’t a cowboy like me.

[lovezella]

The Witch Westeros

CHAPTER ONE - sneaking in a castle

disclaimer:

I do not own House of the Dragon nor the Scarlet Witch and her powers. Credits to Marvel and Stan Lee.

gif not mine, I got it from pinterest.

this fanfic does not follow the plot of the series nor its books. storyline belongs to me.

note:

as promised, here's the chapter two! i am so sorry for leaving this ff discontinued but i lost my motivation in writing and continuing it, so i hope y'all forgive me😭 and ofc, the suggestions for the love interest is still open! that's all, thank you xx

warning:

mentions of wound and blood but that's all (i think) NOT EDITED!!

Rhaenyra Targaryen paced around her chambers with a frown on her face. She was angry, sad, and betrayed. Her son, Lucerys, has been missing for three days and no one knows where he is or if he is alive. His dragon, Arrax, arrived wounded at the castle without his rider this morning and Rhaenyra’s paranoia grew. Her eldest son Jacaerys wouldn’t rest and flew with his dragon all day to look for his brother. Rhaenyra had soldiers roaming around King’s Landing and where he was last discovered, in hopes that they would find him.

Her son Joffrey’s name day is to be celebrated tomorrow but she couldn’t find it in her to celebrate while her second born son was out there missing. Alicent had suggested to have a gathering in honour of Joffrey’s name day, despite the young prince’s protest of not wanting to celebrate without his elder brother. Her father, Viserys, couldn’t have a say about it since he’s currently bedridden because of some sickness— that her uncle Daemon seems so sure that it was the greens’ doing.

Rhaenyra sat on her bed and sighed. She hoped that her son was alive, if not, she prayed for the one who caused his death that would receive her wrath.

-x-

You were used to not getting enough sleep in the past. Often staying up, staring at the ceiling and thinking of your family and ‘what ifs’ invading your mind. However, tonight was different. You shifted on your side, pulling your blanket up to cover you more as you pondered the events that can occur tomorrow.

When you saw a floating body on the waters yesterday, you never imagined it would be a prince. Maybe a commoner, a soldier harmed from a war, or even a pirate—do they even exist in this world? Hell, you don’t know,— but a prince? If you were to waltz into the castle with the young prince who was declared missing, you might—no, you will get into more trouble.

You let out a groan, rubbing your face tiredly. There goes your plan to lay low until you find a way to go back to your universe. Sighing, you gave up trying to sleep and went down to the kitchen, hoping baking will help you ease your nerves.

Tomorrow is going to be fun.

-x-

Lucerys Valeryon woke up with the sun beaming on his face, the distinct sound of the waves from outside and the fresh smell of bread making him realize where he was. He winced as he sat up from the soft bed he laid, rubbing his torso and arm where a cloth wrapped around his wound. He looked down and softly sighed, seeing the blood seeping on the cloth. Lucerys mustered up the strength to stand up and walked to the kitchen, ignoring the shooting pain on his muscles each step he took.

The sound of footsteps snapped you out of your thoughts and you looked up, seeing the young prince you took in last night staggered in.

“Dear, you should be in bed!” You fussed, meeting him half way and guiding him on a stool. You tsked, grabbing another cloth to rewrap his wounds. “How are you going to heal if you are not resting?”

Lucerys shook his head, “I’m alright, my lady. I don’t think I can handle being in bed for too long.”

“Such a stubborn boy,” You sighed, focusing on your task in hand. Lucerys didn’t reply but stared at the dozen plates of bread and dishes on the table. You finished wrapping his arm and torso with a cloth and saw his gaze at your table.

Your face flushed from embarrassment, “I…I cook and bake when I’m nervous.” you explained, throwing the bloody cloth away, “It helps me get my mind off of things.”

Lucerys smiled lightly, thinking of his brother who does the same thing with training when he wants a distraction. “There’s no need to be ashamed, my lady. My brother does it too. He drowns himself in training to distract him from his duties or well…everything.” You stare at him with a light smile, seeing the warm look on his face as he talks about his brother.

You stood up to fetch him breakfast, grabbing two plates from the table which consisted of scrambled eggs and bacon and a piece of butter toast— all you made from scratch. Since this period is lacking supplies you needed to cook, you decided to just conjure some from your magic. No one would know, and if they do, you can just erase their memories. Easy as a pie. You placed the plates on your living room table since you can’t eat at the kitchen table, and pushed Lucerys’ food to his side. Lucerys stared at the plate in front of him with a confused look on his face.

“My lady, I do not mean to offend you, but…what exactly is this?” He asked, hesitantly picking the fork up.

You chuckled and waved a hand, “Don’t worry, Luke, you didn’t offend me. That is scrambled eggs, bacon and butter toast.” You hoped it was enough for him as you were sure he eats more grand foods growing up.

“That is quite…peculiar.” Lucerys raised an eyebrow, “I have never heard of such a meal.”

You paused as you were about to take a bite. Shit, you forgot people from this era are used to eating just bread, fruits, and wine in the morning. “It’s a traditional meal from my home.” you quickly came up with an excuse, “Meals like this are common when we break our fast.”

Lucerys accepted your answer and took a bite of his food, eyes widening as he chewed. “This is delicious!” he exclaimed once he swallowed. “I should visit your home country if the food is as delicious as this.”

Not knowing how to reply, you just chuckled and nodded. You both ate breakfast in silence, caught up with your own thoughts to make a conversation leading to an awkward silence. You cleared your throat, “I was thinking that we should visit the castle once they finished the celebration. In that case, we would not be causing a ruckus and you can get to your family safely.”

“My lady, if I may,” Lucerys started, “I…I want to attend my brother’s name day.” You purse your lips at his words. You had figured he would say that and already formed a plan to sneak you both in.

“I can make it happen—” You said, and the young boy’s eyes widened in delight, “—But we have to do it discreetly.”

“And how, my lady, are we going to do that? I thought only invited high borns are allowed to attend? Are you a high born, my lady?” Lucerys couldn’t help but ask. Your house doesn’t exactly scream noble or rich to him, but he wouldn’t say it out loud. Although, from your looks, posture and manners, some can mistake you as one.

You chuckled, seeing the curious look on his face. You know he doesn’t mean any offense, he’s young and it’s normal for him to be curious. “No, but I can be very convincing.” You winked, subtly making your eye flash red. Lucerys didn’t seem to notice but trusted your words enough. After all, you did save him.

“We leave tonight, is that alright?” You asked, gesturing to his wounds. Lucerys nodded furiously, excited to see his family.

-x-

The moon shined bright and the streets were alive as ever for the celebration of the prince’s name day. Lucerys and you strode to the castle with hoods up to cover your faces. As you approached, a wheelhouse passed through the open gates before it snapped shut. Knights stood by the side; one was staring at you and Lucerys with a suspicious look.

Lucerys tugged your hand, “Perhaps we should just leave. We won’t be able to cross them.” his eyes nervously looking anywhere but the knights.

“It’s alright.” You squeezed his hand and walked confidently to the knights. “We’re here for the gathering.” you said with a smile.

The knight scoffed and said, “High borns only, lass. Your kind is not allowed here. I’m not letting you in.”

Lucerys glared at his offense but you tugged his hand, silently telling him to stay down.

“Oh, but you will.” You tilted your head, your iris turning red and with simple magic, the knight was under your control. “We are from House Maximoff, will you let us in?”

“Of course, my lady.” The knight said in a monotone voice. He shouted orders and before you knew it, the castle gates were open.

[gingerteawrites]

Drabble: Summer dates

Where Nanami is the most attentive to you.

A/N: I’m so glad to bring you this new drabble. I’ve been thinking a lot of more characters to write about on the blog, but as always, Nanami comes out on top. I have not edited this very thoroughly, so, apologies if it’s a bit clunky.

Please feel free to suggest ideas you would like me to write about, as well as characters from various anime and games you would want to see. I truly love reading your thoughts more than anything.

Content: fluff, established relationship, Nanami X reader. Reader is described in a more feminine manner but no pronouns used.

You and Nanami did not go out together nearly as much as other couples. Between your jobs/studies, jujutsu, and the general fatigue that adulthood seemed to be tied with, most weekends were spent at home, where you shared soft touches and home-cooked meals.

This weekend, however, Nanami had decided that you deserved to get out of the house for things other than just work obligations. As you ate breakfast beside each other, he explained how he planned a day outside for you two.

“This spot has very good pastries. And I know you’ve been wanting to explore the new shopping district in Roppongi,” he said, his voice a smooth rumble, enveloping you in its warmth as you felt your heart squeeze in affection.

“You didn’t have to,” you said, your lips forming a light pout as you reached out to squeeze his hand. He smiled at you and pulled your chair closer to his in one swift motion to deliver a feather-light kiss to your lips “Of course I had to. You deserve everything, my love.” He whispered against your lips, and if you had not been sitting already, you would have crumpled to the floor with the way it made your knees go weak.

With the summer heat hitting Tokyo in insistent waves, you settled on wearing a light sundress that fit snugly at the top and sprawled out until your knees, which had caused you to almost not make it out of the house with the way that Kento had squeezed your waist and kissed your exposed neck, mumbling about how beautiful you looked.

Nanami had ditched his usual suit and tie for a pair of loose white slacks and a brown polo shirt. He locked the door behind the both of you and as you stepped into the sweltering heat, you squinted your eyes at the bright sun. But before you could even comment on its intensity, Nanami pulled out a parasol from the bag he carried, splaying it open above your heads.

His eyes met yours with a knowing look, and you smiled back in silent thanks.

Walking through the streets hand in hand made you feel all giddy. Nanami had never been one for PDA, feeling that Gojo invaded his personal space enough. But being with you had caused him to want to feel a part of your body at all times. Knowing you were in his hold put him at ease, like he could protect you if anything came up.

You finally made it to Roppongi, exiting the train station with the rush of other people out for the weekend. Lunch consisted of cold noodles and refreshing shaved ice, and you bought pastries to eat as a dessert for dinner later in the evening.

“I saw a new bread recipe online, I think it’s called focaccia?” You said as you exited the bakery “I’ll try my hand at it tomorrow.”

“I am sure it would be perfect. We can use it to make sandwiches.” He smiled at your enthusiasm, carrying the conversation toward what to include in the following week’s work bentos.

Your eyes wandered a bit, gasping in excitement when you noticed a new stationery shop in the square, which Nanami gladly led you two to, entering the store with the tune of a small bell’s jingle. You were browsing their sticker collection when Nanami’s phone buzzed in his pocket.

His eyebrows knit at the intrusion, and his finger immediately went to reject the call, wanting to focus all his attention on you. But you, noticing the caller ID insisted on him picking up the video call. He turned away from you and pressed the green button.

“Nanamiiiiiiiiiiiin” Yuji’s voice greeted loudly, with a wide grin pulling at his lips, causing Nanami to wince slightly at the boy’s energy. “Fushiguro you owe me, see? He actually picked up!” He snickered, flipping the camera towards a scowling Megumi.

Nobara peered from behind Yuji, gripping onto his shoulder and pulling at it roughly so she could see the screen better “Oh! Are you in Roppongi!?” she exclaimed, immediately recognizing the surroundings. Yuji’s own eyes went wide, as he brought the phone closer to his face “Oooooh, Nanami-san is enjoying himself without us!” the boy added.

Nanami grunted lightly, raising an eyebrow at his students’ shenanigans “If you all don’t have anything to say, I’m hanging up,” he announced.

You snickered lightly at the scenario unfolding before you, but accidentally dropped a roll of washi tape you had been examining. It rolled towards Nanami’s feet and before you could bend down to pick it up, your man beat you to it, causing you to inadvertently come into view on the video call.

“Is that Y/N-san??” Nobara asked, catching a glimpse of your face “You look so pretty today!” she said, and Yuji greeted you enthusiastically. “I told y’all not to call. See, they’re probably on a date.” Megumi scolded his mates, lips pressed together.

You waved at the group, Nanami moving aside so you took most of the screen. “Hi everyone, I hope you’ve all been enjoying your break,” you said, the melody of your voice prompting them to go on about their summer break activities.

You chuckled when they explained their antics, revealing that they had grown bored and bet on which one of their teachers would pick up the phone off-duty. Surprisingly, even the ever-available Ichiji had turned off his phone, causing the students to almost lose all hope.

Nanami watched your face as you effortlessly conversed with his students, his initial irritation easing, replaced by a fond look. You eventually waved your goodbyes, not wanting to neglect your date.

“Sorry for interrupting,” Megumi said sheepishly. “I’ll send you a picture of me trying on that shade!” Nobara added. “You should try the revolving sushi! Byeeee!” Yuji waved off, before cutting the call.

“They completely forgot I was even here,” Nanami commented, slipping his phone back into his pocket. You chuckled at his words, your hand finding his as you softly intertwined your fingers.

“Shall we get the kids some souvenirs?” You asked, tilting your head as you looked up at your lover. He melted under your gaze, a small smile gracing his features as he brought your hand to his lips. How could he ever say no to you? “Of course my love.” You did not realize just how weak this man was for you.

[gabessquishytum]

Reclusive writer Dream has always liked swimming in the ocean near his home.

One day however as he is walking along the beach, he sees a bit of a commotion—what looks at first like a game of tag or chase.

As he gets closer he sees what it is.

A couple of teenagers are playing keep away, laughing and throwing something back and forth while a third tries to get it away from them.

One of them catches the third, and holds him, and the other dangles the brown thing—is that fabric?—in front of him.

As dream gets nearer he realizes it isn’t a game. The third, still held fast, turns to Dream with huge, teary brown eyes. He’s spitting mad but scared too.

Dream snatches the brown fur from one of the kids and tells them off. They go running off down the beach, one of them snapping that it isn’t fair, that they found him first.

And Dream turns to the young man who is left. He looks around 17 or 18. He’s beautiful, his skin sun-kissed and warm, and his gaze is fixed on the fur in Dream’s hands.

Dream finally looks down at what he’s holding.

It’s a selkie’s skin.

Rumor has it, keeping a selkie’s skin means the selkie is bound to you. Destroying it makes it yours forever.

“Give it back,” the selkie bursts out and Dream immediately hands it over. In a flash, the boy darts into the waves, vanishing under them.

Dream assumes that’ll be the last of it, but the next time he brings his writing to the beach, there’s a solitary figure in the waves again.

Soon he knows his name, hob. Soon, hob’s always hanging around, swimming with Dream, listening to him read his stories and following Dream’s every move with a fetching, bashful blush on his cheeks.

Despite himself, Dream thinks of him all the time. He imagines bringing hob home to his seaside cottage and showing him the human things that fascinate him. Hot water. Bread. Fire. He imagines spreading hob out in his bed and tasting him, hearing him beg for more. And he hasn’t forgotten how soft and lovely his skin was…

This is such a lovely au, I am so so fond of selkie Hob!!! All soft and brown and velvety. Warm and a little plump to keep him a safe in the sea. No wonder Dream can't stop thinking about him...

Hob is endlessly curious about the human world. He's grown wary of adopting his human form and leaving his skin out on the beach, since that previous incident - but he'll gladly sit on the sand with Dream, holding the skin in his lap and asking a hundred questions. Dream tries to answer all of them and brings all kinds of small gifts for his friend. Hob begins to trust him totally, and even allows Dream to touch his skin briefly for a second time. In turn, Hob teaches Dream to dive deeper, to hold his breath for longer, and to swim faster. Hob still swims rings around him though. He does have flippers.

One day Hob tells Dream that he'll have to consider marriage soon, as he has now come of age. It's then that Dream realises - he wants to marry Hob. It even occurs to him that he could steal his friend's skin and entrap him into marriage. But he knows that he would hate himself, even if having Hob forever might be worth it... the sensible thing to do is offer marriage properly, and see what Hob thinks of the plan.

Fortunately Hob was literally hinting that he wanted Dream to propose marriage the whole time, so he's pretty receptive to the idea. Receptive enough to let Dream push him back into the sand dunes and kiss him breathless.

All of the locals who see Dream’s new young husband are going to gossip like crazy. Hob is a little odd, but sweet, and utterly devoted to his husband. No one can imagine where Dream picked up such a pretty little treasure.

And in their little cottage, Hob’s skin lays in pride of place across their marriage bed, freely available for Hob to take should he wish. It's also available for Dream to stroke and caress. He'll never get over how soft it feels... nor will he get over good it is to caress Hob. Hob loves all the human things that Dream shows him, but the best thing of all is the way Dream fucks him and makes him cum over and over and over. He's a very spoiled and contented selkie-husband indeed.

[harry-on-broadway]

Italian Sun

A/N: Felt inspired after yesterday’s pictures so here’s some unedited rambling. Enjoy!

***

It had only been a week, but you were already grappling with your new reality.

The reality of Harry being at home, at last.

Home, for now, was the Italian villa you all often decamped to when you had a few weeks off. He’d been making plans for the end of tour since the holidays and while specifics had changed, one thing had remained consistent: he wanted to spend time in Italy, relaxing and catching up with all of his family and friends he’d neglected for the past two years.

“Neglected? Don’t you think that’s a little dramatic?” you teased when he first brought up the idea. “We’re literally driving home from your mother’s house.”

“You know what I mean,” he’d said, his face scrunching the way it did when he felt like his words were being misconstrued. “I’m just never around and when I am I feel like I’m so behind. Like…like I’m watching the season finale of a show I’ve never seen before. Everything’s different when I come back.”

“I’m not.”

“That’s what you think.”

“Oh?”

“It’s the little things. You cut your hair. You found a new coffee you like. You started listening to a new podcast. And I’ve missed it all.”

When he put it that way, your heart broke. He rarely complained, knowing that the life he was living was envied by many. But you felt for him, hearing how hard this was on him. “Well, start putting together a guest list. I guess we’re all going to Italy in July.”

Which is how you found yourself rooming with Harry’s closest friends and family in the week following the final show of Love on Tour, sharing meals, memories, and adventures with everyone. The extra glow coming off of Harry didn’t go unnoticed by you and you could feel happiness and contentment radiating off of him when he snuggled in close to you each night.

Today was the last day that everyone would be all together before the group started to head out, leaving you and Harry alone. He’d wanted the final day to be the best yet and had planned an itinerary filled with boating and sunbathing and, according to him, the best Italian dinner yet.

You had to give him credit. It was the best day yet. Games were played, naps were taken, and the picnic basket of cheeses, breads, and meats that Harry himself had packed was delicious. But the day also came with an added perk for you.

While almost everyone had donned swimwear for the occasion, displaying all sorts of skin, Harry took it to another level. His shirt was hanging precariously on his body, a single button keeping it from being blown away, and his swim trunks had been rolled up and pulled low on his hips (to avoid tan lines, he explained).

And the hat.

The fucking hat. A bright pink bucket cap, with the word ‘Daddy’ written across the front, that someone had thrown onstage in Australia. He’d said he picked it up as a joke, but the fact that he’d held onto it across countries and time zones, made you think otherwise. You saw how he carried himself with an extra hint of swagger when he wore it, and you hated to admit it, but something stirred inside of you when you caught a glance of him, hat and all, driving the boat with all of the ease of a seasoned pro. You prayed no one could tell how that scene affected you.

Now, with dinner on the horizon, you were trying to put those steamy thoughts out of your head and focus on what you should wear. You’d narrowed it down to two brightly colored dresses, when you felt two hands cover your eyes.

“Guess who?”

“Hmmmmm,” you pondered. “Could it be my boyfriend? You know, the guy who organized this magnificent trip after breaking records worldwide for the past couple of years?”

“He sounds like a catch.”

“He’s not that bad. He’s easy on the eyes.”

“Easy on the eyes, huh?” Harry moved his hands down to your hips and spun you around so you were facing him.

“Yeah, and he looks even better when he’s half-naked, driving a boat.”

“Mmmm.” Harry’s hands moved lower so that they were resting on the cleft of your ass. “Must have been pretty hot.”

“Oh, yeah, super sexy. I wish I could have jumped him right there. Especially in that hat.”

“Wait, what,” Harry laughed, breaking whatever character he’d been playing. “Are you serious?”

You shrugged. “What can I say, there’s something about that whole scene that really turned me on. And, sex on a boat sounds kind of fun. Shame we couldn’t try that out.” Harry swallowed, his throat bobbing as he processed what you said. “Harry?” you asked after a moment. “Are you still with me?”

“Yeah, I’m just trying to think why the fuck I thought it would be a good idea to invite everyone on this trip. I could’ve been having sex on a boat.”

“It’s not a boat but we can still have some fun,” you whispered, fingers delicately trailing down the exposed skin of his chest.

“Yeah?”

You nodded and Harry darted across the room to shut the door to your suite, trying to tear his shirt off at the same time. “Slow down, baby,” you said. “We’ve got time.”

Harry took a deep breath, calming himself as he nodded and opened his arms for you. His hands skated over your body, much of your skin already exposed thanks to your swimsuit, before they landed on your jaw, tipping your head back to bring your lips to his.

You felt heat course through your body at his slightest touch and were amazed that he was still able to elicit this reaction from you. You felt your nipples stiffen through the flimsy material of your swimsuit when Harry’s already sizable erection brushed against your thigh and you couldn’t stop thinking about feeling him inside of you.

“Bed, now,” Harry panted when he broke away from the kiss, and you backed up until you could feel the mattress behind your knees.

You fell backwards, bouncing slightly when you landed, and when you raised yourself up onto your elbows to find Harry, he had already dropped to the ground, his hands nimbly shimmying your swim bottoms down your legs. The garment discarded somewhere in the room, you felt Harry’s lips on your ankle, then up your calf, then at the inside of your knee. You knew what this was building too, but that didn’t stop you from letting out a gasp of surprise when his lips finally found your center.

“Oh fuck,” you moaned, voice barely above a whisper for fear of alerting the rest of your party to what you were up to. You threw your head to the side, trying to muffle the sound of your pleasure with the pillow.

Theoretically, the two of you were due downstairs for dinner in roughly a half hour, but Harry showed no urgency as he slowly licked at your core, speeding up, then slowing down right as you were about to topple over the edge. It was hard to focus on anything but the feel of him between your legs. You reached down, hand moving blindly until your hands found purchase in his hair. The sensation of his soft curls between your fingers grounded you as you bucked up against his lips, wanting even more than he was already giving you.

“Is this good?” he asked.

All you could manage was a breathless moan as his fingers slid inside, easily undoing you. You opened your eyes and tried to catch your breath as Harry appeared over top of you licking his fingers clean with a satisfying pop. “That really turns me on,” you finally wheezed out.

“What? That?”

“No, the fact that you remember what works for me. It’s just something about the way you care for me. You always act like you don’t remember anything and you have no clue what’s happening, but that’s not true H. You always remember what matters.”

You could see something burning in Harry’s eyes as you said that, not quite desire, but something close. “I’m always going to care about you,” he said, the words laced with emotion. “Nothing is ever going to change that.”

“Show me,” you said.

He rolled on top of you in one easy motion, and you opened your legs, giving him space to settle in. He kissed you, furiously, but nowhere near enough. You needed to feel him all over you, every inch. Skin on skin, nothing between you.

“What the hell are these shorts still doing on you?” you whined, fingers digging into the fabric of his tiny trunks.

“I could say the same about this,” he all but grunted, struggling to undo the tie of your bathing suit top.

Free of obstructions, you all were able to lay together and take in the moment. You weren’t surprised when Harry buried his nose in the crook of your neck, inhaling and savoring the moment. It was something he’d made a habit of doing in recent months, after noticing that you’d changed body wash in his absence. He was upset at first, saddened by yet another detail he’d missed, but after that, he’d started to take more time to observe and remember every little thing about you.

After a few seconds, you felt his lips on your neck as he kissed his way to your mouth, and you could feel him smile into the kiss.

“Got time for one more?” he asked with a cheeky grin.

“Why stop there?”

“I think you might be overestimating my abilities, love.”

You pressed a kiss of your own to the spot right under his ear that you knew got him going. “You’ve never let me down, H.”

Without warning, he was inside you. He often paused upon entering you, giving you a moment to adjust and a moment for him to center himself. But today, he did no such thing, rocking back and forth in a steady rhythm. You made no effort to stop him either, tilting your hips up and pressing your heels into the small of his back to drive him further inside. The room was nearly silent, just the sound of your bodies moving in time broken by occasional panting, or the soft moans Harry stifled against your chest.

You glanced at him as he continued to drive into you. His eyes were shut tight and his forehead was wrinkled in concentration. It was the look he often wore when he was focused on not coming undone prematurely. Always the gentleman, he made every effort to ensure you were taken care of before he handled his own needs, but the rare occasions when he fell apart first drove you wild.

There was something so attractive about watching a man who was always in control, always looking out for others, come undone, something you’d once told him, earning an eye roll. You could tell he was nearing the edge as his thrusts became more frenzied and less rhythmic, while the wrinkles in his brow deepened.

You brought your lips to the shell of his ear, nipping at the skin, before soothing the bite with a kiss. “Let go,” you whispered in his ear. “For me.” You could feel his hesitation, so you played the ace you had been holding this whole time.

“Daddy.”

His whole body shuddered as he emptied inside of you, your orgasm following close behind. He collapsed, his entire body weight resting on top of you.

“Give me a sec,” he said. “I just—fuck.”

You chuckled lightly. “That good, baby?”

Harry shook his head in disbelief, as he lifted off the bed and padded to the bathroom, returning with a damp cloth. “Fucking amazing,” he muttered, as he moved to help you clean up. “Didn’t know that was uh, something you were into. You know, the daddy thing,” he added, trying to sound casual.

“Can’t say I am, but something about that hat just really got to me. Maybe something to think about in the future though?”

“For sure,” Harry said. “I mean, I’ve scheduled plenty of sex for us as part of this break.”

“So when do you leave again?” you teased.

Harry pinched your thigh lightly. “Not soon enough apparently.”

You leaned forward, grabbing him for a kiss. “It’s always too soon. But I’m happy to have you while I can.” You looked at the clock on the bedside table. “And I think all of your friends want to see you too, which means, we have to get ready. Now.”

“I’ll start the shower.”

“Harry!”

“What? It’s a time saver and a water saver.”

You rolled your eyes. “Remember, your friends will let us have it if we’re late.”

“Yeah, yeah. They’re getting a free vacation so they’ll keep quiet if they know what’s best for them.”

“Oooh, tough guy.” You grabbed your towel and headed to the bathroom, hearing Harry say something behind you. “What did you say?” you asked, turning around to find him standing there holding his hat from earlier in the day.

“I said I have to remember to send a thank you note,” he added quietly.

“To who?”

“Whoever threw that fucking hat on the stage. Never imagined it would get me laid.”

[deedeeznoots]

Let’s Go to Malaysia, Yeah?

➺ Characters: Nanami Kento, Fem!Reader 

➺ Word count: 2.7k

➺ Genre: Smut, Fluff, Angst 

➺ Content: It’s smut so MDNI!! Specifically: Slight voyeurism (there’s no people around but you’re both outside), Oral (reader receiving), PiV, Creampie, Use of the word “wife” a lot, angst at the end because I don’t believe in happiness

➺ A/N: I thought about this on a random Thursday night at 1 AM and couldn’t rest until I wrote it into existence. 

➺ Synopsis: You and your husband Kento Nanami go on a beach trip in Malaysia and have some fun in more ways than one~

The sound of chirping birds and ocean waves wake you up from your slumber. Still groggy, you instinctively reach for Nanami, but the bed comes out empty. Rubbing your eyes, your vision lands on the open windows, the sun slightly blinding you from the view. Though it would be nearly impossible to miss completely, the bright yellow sand standing in contrast to the deep blue ocean was a sight to see. Turns out, renting a small house by the beach in Malaysia was an amazing idea, something your husband came up with. Speaking of…where was he?  

Hearing some commotion from outside the bedroom, you put on your robe and leave to follow the source. There, you find your beautiful husband making breakfast in the kitchen. Shirtless, the morning sun reflects off his back as he cuts up fruit. God he looked good, you thought. 

Moving quietly, you swiftly hugged him from behind. He jumps up a little in shock before going “Good morning, darling”.

You giggle at his reaction and simply go “Hi Kento...” and leave small kisses on his back as he continues cutting fruit. Eventually, he drops the knife and turns around, looking you straight in the eyes.

 “…yes?” You question jokingly. He doesn’t say anything, only giving you a small kiss on your lips. You had other plans though, and grabbed a hold at the back of his neck, deepening the kiss. Nanami groans in response, but doesn’t protest, lifting you up and placing you on top of the counter. As he slowly grinds himself between your legs, you joke “it’s so early…”. Your husband simply laughs and says “it’s never too early for my wife…”. As your tongues continue to intertwine, you begin to remove his pants when—

Ding

The toaster. The sound snaps Nanami out of what he was doing and he begins to remember his original plans for the kitchen. Lifting you up again, this time to help bring you back down to the floor, he tells you “Let’s not waste breakfast” with a laugh. 

Somewhat disappointed, you comply anyway as you were a little hungry and Nanami did work hard to prepare it for you two. Sitting on the table, Nanami puts down a plate of toast and syrup with a side of fruit. You weren’t sure if it was because it was made by someone you loved, but it was possibly the most delicious meal you ever had. The bread was perfectly toasted, with the syrup acting in perfect juxtaposition to the crunchy exterior of the toast. The fruit was no joke either, perfectly cut into symmetrical shapes and acting as the perfect side to your meal. God, it was amazing. Your husband was amazing. 

“…Baby are you listening?” Nanami’s voice snaps you out of your daydreams. “Huh…?” You ask, staring at him blankly. Shaking your head, you go “Oh… I’m sorry honey haha I was too focused on this amazing breakfast”, your voice slightly muffled from the food in your mouth. Your husband just laughs and goes “I was just asking if you wanted me to bring anything while we go on our walk”. 

“Oh! Let’s bring the chairs so we can watch the ocean for a bit” you say, excited. Nanami nods and you two continue making small talk over breakfast regarding your plans for the day, enjoying each other’s presence along with the beach view through the large window in the living room. 

“Man, that was a good breakfast! Thank you so much for that… you’re getting really good at making bread by the way” you say as the both of you walk around the beach. “Thank you, anything for my wife” Nanami chuckles, of course. Your husband always told you he’d give you the world, and you believe him. Why wouldn’t you? He shows you every day, and this day was certainly no exception. 

The sand is hot against your feet as you and your partner find a place to set your chairs. Looking around, you point to an empty spot close to the ocean “what about there?” you ask. Nanami just nods and takes your hand to walk you both to the spot. You set both your chairs down as Nanami puts up the umbrella for both of you. He also offers to help you put on your sunscreen. 

“Sure! Let me just go get it” you respond. 

It started out innocent enough. You feel the slight cool of the sunscreen as your husband rubs the cream onto your skin. He started with your arms, being oh so diligent to make sure your skin was fully protected. He started again with your back, once again not missing a single spot. Once he got to your shoulders, however… that was a different story. Something about it felt more…sensual, and both of you felt the change in mood. 

While rubbing the sunscreen on your shoulders, Nanami decided to begin kissing your neck. The warm kisses sent a cold shiver down your spine and you jumped up. “H-h-hey! What are you doing?” you ask, shocked. Your dutiful husband simply hums into your neck and continues kissing your most sensitive spots. Once the initial shock smoothed over, you got more into it. Leaning into his soft kisses and letting out soft moans as he continuously abused your neck. Not too much though, you were in public after all. 

Well…kind of. See, one of the main draws of picking this specific spot to go to was because of how far it was from the public area. There was  likely no people for miles, making it the perfect spot for you and your introverted lover to do all kinds of fun (in lots of different ways, of course). Still, anyone could theoretically walk to this side of the beach with no issue, but why would they? There was clearly nothing to see here. 

Except I guess…a man in between his wife’s legs eating her out like she’s his last meal. “K-Kento! We’re in public!” you yelp out in between (now much louder) moans. “Shhh… it’s okay” he shushes, the vibrations of which are felt on your pussy, causing you to moan louder. “N-ngh, God— don’t stop!” you moan out, which simply makes your lover laugh. Pulling away, with only a string of his saliva working to connect the two of you, he goes “Careful honey, we are in public, remember?”. Frustrated, you grab him by his hair and lightly push him back between your legs. You were careful not to actually hurt him, of course, and you thankfully didn’t receive any complaints from him, as he simply goes back to looking up at you while sucking on your clit, at the corner of your eye, you can see the sunscreen, now carelessly tossed to the side.

Right. This started with sunscreen. What happened with that? 

Right… after finishing lathering your shoulders he began getting to work on your legs. You were still lightheaded from having his lips on your neck, so you didn’t pay much attention while he continued rubbing the lotion on you. At one point though, he suddenly stopped. Confused, you’re about to ask him what’s wrong when he hushes you with a soft kiss. You comply, and are so zoned out that you don’t even notice Nanami beginning to remove the bottom half of the bathing suit you put on. “…May I?” he asks for your permission with his soft voice. Unable to deny him in the state you’re in, you nod. From there, he began kissing down your body. From your shoulders, to your breasts, to your stomach until finally, he made it there. 

Which leads you back to the predicament you’re in now: where you’re a moaning mess as your husband makes out with your pussy. Like always, Nanami is diligent. Making sure to catch all your sweet spots and to pay extra mind to your clit. He worked slowly, but don’t worry, he was definitely getting the job done. “P-p-please…I’m close, I’m so close please Kento please”, you spit out through incoherent moans. Nanami doesn’t say anything, he simply flattens his tongue against your clit as your orgasm continues to build up. When you finally get there after a few seconds of riding Nanami’s tongue, you’re only able to see white for a while. Breathing heavily, your legs begin to tremble as you zone out, staring wide-eyed into space.

Nanami is seemingly unfazed, however, as he simply pulls your swimsuit back up and gives you a chaste kiss on the lips, allowing you to taste a bit of yourself. He holds your hand tight and says “Let’s rest for a bit and then let’s go swim, ok?” He smiles innocently, as if he didn’t just give you the best orgasm of your life just a minute before. Slowly snapping back into reality, you kiss your husband’s hand and go “o-ok…”, still out of breath from what just occurred. Nanami let you take your time to cool down, showering you in affirmations of how beautiful you were and how he was sorry but  simply couldn’t resist you.

Eventually, you’re able to calm down enough to make your way to the ocean. Your legs still wobbly, you’re the perfect target for splashing. The cold water hitting your skin as your lover cruelly splashes water on you “Kentoooo…stop it! Haha!” You laugh as you splash him back, getting his hair wet. Getting serious for a second, he simply mutters “You’ll pay for that, darling”, before swiftly picking you up and spinning you around. Letting out a goofy scream, you go “Baby wait— you’re gonna drop me! Haha!”. To your surprise, he actually does drop you in the water. You were fine with this, as this gave you leverage to grab onto his leg and pull him down with you. Letting out a yelp, he lets out a hearty laugh as he falls into the water with a splash. “I win! Jerk!” you say in between laughs. 

Though, he  simply goes quiet and looks deep in your eyes. He lightly grabs your face and gives you a deep kiss. Pulling away, he whispers a soft “I love you”. Flushed, you’re about to say you love him back when you feel another cold splash against your face right and your husband’s laughter “…but you’re so cute when you’re mad!” He exclaims, standing up. “Hey! No fair! We were supposed to have a sweet moment!” You yell out as you climb up his back, forcing him to give you a piggyback ride. One he complies to, of course. 

After having your fun, the both of you dry yourselves off outside before going back to your small vacation home. “I’m going to catch up on some reading darling, there’s some books I really need to finish”, Nanami tells you as he starts to enter the room. “Alright, I’m just gonna take a shower and then I’ll join you” you respond. He nods as he closes the door behind him. You had other plans, of course.

You were going to join him.  

Though…it wasn’t going to be for reading. You still had to pay him back for his stunt at the beach, after all…

After your short shower, you enter the shared bedroom of you and Nanami. There was nothing out of the ordinary, except for the fact that you were wearing nothing but a towel. 

“Darling…” your husband looks up, taking off his glasses. “Aren’t you going to put some clothes on?” He asks, but you could feel it in his voice, he was getting riled up. You got him right where you wanted him. 

“Hmmm…I don’t know darling,” you say, teasing him “I think I like things exactly like this”, as you finish your sentence, you drop your towel, showing off your naked body to Nanami. You climb on top of him and sit on his lap. He was hard. Why wouldn’t he be? His gorgeous wife was sitting naked on top of him. He simply smiled as you brought your face closer to his, your lips nearly touching. “While I appreciate the sentiment darling…” Nanami grabs your wrists as he flips you over on the bed “…it seems you forgot who’s in charge here”. He now stood on top of you, his large frame hovering above you as he brought himself closer to kiss you. Finally, your lips touch and the both of you get to work removing all of Nanami’s pesky clothes. You were thankfully already taken care of, so things were much easier. 

Finally fully naked, Nanami lines himself up against you “I’m sorry baby…” he starts, “I know we usually do foreplay first but I need to be inside of you right now”. His dick is in perfect alignment with your pussy, where even through the smallest movement by you, you could have him inside. You’re just as desperate for him as he is for you, so you just nod and go “it’s okay… I’m already wet enough for you, see?” you say as you dip your fingers into your pussy before pulling out, showing Nanami proof of your arousal. He simply exhales a sigh of relief as he begins to enter you. Starting slowly, as to not hurt you, he starts with shallow thrusts until he’s all the way in. 

Finally inside, he picks up the pace, looking you in the eyes the whole time. “God— you’re gorgeous you know?” he says in between thrusts, though you’re too fucked out on his cock to be able to pay much attention. You simply moan as you’re forced to take his dick over and over again. This makes him stop, and he looks at you. Before you can ask him why, he goes “Say it, darling”. “Say wha—“ you are cut off, “Say you’re gorgeous”. 

“That—that’s so embarrassing Kento…” you reply. It did make you feel a bit shy to say affirmations with a dick inside of you, but Nanami didn’t budge, he simply kept looking at you until you said the words. “Okay…I’m gorgeous, the only one for you” you smile, it did feel good to say, but Nanami’s thick cock thrusting in and out of you right after you said it probably helped in that regard. 

You began to feel the pit in your stomach grow, and you knew exactly what it meant “K…Kento… I’m gonna cum…” you moan out. Nanami softly kisses your wrists in response and says “yeah…me too darling, let’s finish together, yeah?”. 

You both do just that, moans and grunts filling the room as you both reach your high. “I love you baby… I love you so much” Nanami moans out as he kisses you through your orgasms. 

After you’ve both calmed down, Nanami pulls out and lays next to you. “Come here, darling~” he coos, pulling you towards him for cuddles. “I meant it you know, when I said you were gorgeous…you should say it to yourself more often” he whispers in your ear. You simply smile and give him a kiss on the cheek “Yeah…I’ll make sure to try. I love you baby…” your eyes meet his, and it’s almost like you can see the whole world through only his eyes. He gives you a deep kiss and as he caresses you to sleep he goes “I love you too, my beautiful wife”. 

You groggily wake up to the walls of your room, a very different sight to the vacation home you were just in. It’s dark, with no windows open, and if you opened them, you likely wouldn’t be greeted to the soft waves of the ocean. What just happened? You think. Was I dreaming?

You instinctively reach for your husband’s side of the bed. It’s empty, of course. Still groggy and with possibly the worst headache of your life, you get up and make your way to the kitchen. 

You make your own breakfast. A sad combination of stale cereal and milk.

It’s the reality of course, but one you’re still unable to accept. In this reality, there is no beach view, there is no cold ocean to splash in, there are no birds to wake you up, and most importantly there is no Nanami. 

What is there though…are two tickets to Malaysia. Looking at them, the dates stand there bold, almost as if to mock you… spelling out the day you’ll forever hate the most. 

NOV. 1ST, 2018

Yeah…that’s right.

You two were never able to make it to that trip, were you?

-

A/N: Like Nanami? He’s also mentioned in this fic!

[thesimcalledclem]

FIRE AND BLOOD (CHAPTER TWO)

Warnings: Eventual Smut. Targcest. S!sterw!fe. Dubious consent (You know all the drills atp if you've gotten this far into the tag.) OC FIC, if that isn't what you are into, then kindly don't read.

I DO NOT GIVE PERMISSION TO UPLOAD ANY OF MY WORKS TO ANY OTHER SITES.

────── ☾ ──────

The days following my confrontation with Mother blurred into a numbing routine of endless preparations. Seamstresses descended upon my chambers, their arms laden with bolts of fabric and intricate embroidery. They measured and pinned, their fingers deftly transforming me into a porcelain doll adorned in silks and jewels. 

Lessons with Septa Nysterica intensified, her lectures on courtly etiquette and wifely duties droning on like a persistent hum. I sat through them with a vacant expression, my mind elsewhere. I had no interest in learning how to manage a household or appease a husband. All I craved was the freedom to fly, to feel the wind in my hair and the sun on my face. 

The news of Rhaenyra's impending arrival only added to the chaos. The castle buzzed with activity, servants scurrying to and fro, preparing for the arrival of the heir and her family. There were whispers of alliances and betrayals, of hidden agendas and simmering resentments. 

I took no joy in any of it. I sat through the lavish dinners, pushing food around my plate, my stomach churning with anxiety. I forced myself to engage in polite conversation, my smiles masking the bitterness that gnawed at my soul. 

Each night, I lay awake in my bed, staring up at the canopy overhead. I thought of Solayre, her scales gleaming in the moonlight, her roar echoing through the skies. I longed to be with him, to feel the rush of flight, to escape the suffocating confines of the Red Keep. 

Weeks turned into a month, and still, the preparations continued. The announcement of my betrothal to Aegon was met with a mix of shock and intrigue. The court buzzed with gossip, the whispers growing louder with each passing day. 

The celebratory feast was a lavish affair, the Great Hall overflowing with guests. I sat beside Aegon on the dais, our thrones elevated above the crowd. The air was thick with the scent of roasted meats and sweet pastries, but the smell of food only made me nauseous. 

I had barely eaten in weeks, my appetite waning with each passing day. The thought of being forced into a loveless marriage with Aegon had robbed me of my joy, my will to live. 

Aegon leaned towards me, his voice a low murmur in my ear. "Mother is considering force-feeding you," he said, his breath reeking of wine. "I suggest you stuff some bread down before she intervenes." 

I angled my body away from him, his drunken scent repulsive. "I am not hungry," I said, my voice barely audible. 

I forced a smile as another lord approached the dais, bearing a lavish gift for our betrothal. I accepted it with a gracious nod, my heart heavy with despair. 

"Doesn't matter," Aegon said, pushing a plate of food towards me. "Eat." 

I looked up at him, my eyes locking with his. "I am not hungry," I repeated, my voice firmer this time. 

He raised an eyebrow, a mocking glint in his eyes. He lifted his goblet to his lips, taking a long swig of wine. "So, you've chosen starvation as your weapon of defiance," he said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "That's a ghastly way to go. I'd rather be burnt alive." 

I seethed, his words cutting deeper than he could possibly know. He had guessed my thoughts, my darkest fears. 

"You have to eat," he continued, his tone softening slightly. "She will force you, and that will not be pretty for you. Because she will make me do it." 

He shrugged, as if the thought of force-feeding me was a mere inconvenience. I glared at him, my anger rising. I wanted to scream, to throw the plate of food in his face, to unleash the fury that raged within me. 

But I held my tongue, my jaw clenched tight. I knew I couldn't win this battle. Mother would get her way, one way or another. 

I picked up a piece of bread, my hand trembling slightly. I brought it to my lips, the dry texture scratching my throat as I forced it down. 

Aegon watched me with a satisfied smirk. "That’s a girl," he said, patting my hand. 

I recoiled from his touch, my stomach churning. I would eat, but I would never give them the satisfaction of seeing me break. I would endure this ordeal, this sham of a marriage, for as long as I had to, and the worst part was, I knew that no matter how hard I fought, I couldn't change my fate. I was bound to Aegon, bound by blood and a twisted sense of duty.  

The feast continued, a blur of faces and voices. I smiled and nodded, pretending to be happy, pretending to be in love. But inside, I was dying, my spirit slowly withering away. 

Aegon, to his credit, didn't gloat or revel in my misery. Instead, he subtly pushed food my way, urging me with silent gestures and the occasional pointed look. He otherwise ignored me, his attention focused on the endless stream of well-wishers and sycophants who flocked to our table, eager to offer their congratulations and bask in the reflected glory of our impending union. 

I ate, not out of hunger, but out of a desperate desire to avoid another confrontation with Mother. I forced down bites of roasted meats and sweetmeats, the flavors blending together in a sickeningly sweet concoction. I sipped wine, the alcohol doing little to numb the pain in my heart. 

I could feel Aegon's eyes on me, watching my every move. I knew he was assessing my compliance, gauging my willingness to play along with this charade. I wanted to defy him, to throw the food in his face and scream my denial. But I knew it would only lead to more punishment, more humiliation. 

So, I ate, my stomach churning with each bite. I smiled and nodded, my lips forming empty platitudes. I played the role of the happy bride-to-be, even as my soul withered inside. 

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Mother descended upon us like a bird of prey. Her long hair, adorned with pearls and amethysts, brushed against my shoulder as she leaned in close to Aegon. 

"Has she—" she began, her voice low and urgent. 

But Aegon cut her off, his voice weary but firm. "Yes, Mother," he said, his eyes meeting mine for a brief moment. "She ate." 

He drained his goblet, the wine sloshing over the rim. Mother nodded curtly, her eyes narrowing as she surveyed me. I could feel her gaze piercing through me, searching for any sign of weakness, any hint of rebellion. 

I met her stare with a blank expression, my face a mask of indifference. I had learned long ago that the best way to survive Mother's scrutiny was to reveal nothing, to give her no ammunition to use against me. 

She turned away, satisfied for the moment, and rejoined Otto at the head of the table. Aegon leaned back in his chair, his shoulders slumping. 

"You're welcome," he muttered under his breath, his eyes fixed on the goblet in his hand. 

I didn't respond, my gaze drifting towards the open window. The moon hung high in the sky, its silvery light casting long shadows across the courtyard. I longed to be outside, to feel the cool night air against my skin, to escape the stifling atmosphere of the feast. 

But I was trapped, a prisoner of my own circumstances. I was a Targaryen princess, bound by duty and tradition. I had no choice but to play the role that had been assigned to me, to marry the man I despised, to become the queen I never wanted to be. 

The feast dragged on, an endless parade of courses and toasts. I smiled and nodded, feigning interest in the inane chatter of the courtiers. I sipped my wine, the taste bitter on my tongue. 

As the night wore on, the revelers grew more boisterous, their laughter echoing through the hall. Aegon, fueled by alcohol and a perverse sense of amusement, became increasingly animated, his jokes growing bawdier, his laughter louder. 

I watched him with a mixture of disgust and pity. He was a lost soul, drowning his sorrows in wine and women. He was a puppet, dancing to Mother's tune, his every move dictated by her ambition. 

I wanted to shake him, to scream at him to wake up, to see the truth of his situation. But I knew it was futile. He was too far gone, too consumed by his own demons. 

As the feast finally drew to a close, I excused myself, pleading exhaustion. I retreated to my chambers, my heart heavy with despair. I shed my elaborate gown, the heavy silk a suffocating reminder of my gilded cage. 

I crawled into bed, my body aching with fatigue. But sleep eluded me. My mind raced, replaying the events of the day, the weeks, the months leading up to this moment. 

I had been betrayed by my own mother, forced into a union with a man I loathed. I had been stripped of my identity, my dreams, my future. 

The day of Rhaenyra's arrival dawned bright and clear, the sky a brilliant expanse of blue. A sense of anticipation hung in the air, a palpable tension that permeated the castle walls. Servants scurried about, their faces etched with a mixture of excitement and apprehension. 

I had risen early, determined to steal a few precious moments of freedom before the day's events unfolded. I had made my way to the dragon pit, my heart pounding with anticipation. Solayre greeted me with a rumbling purr, his golden eyes gleaming with affection. 

We took to the skies, soaring above the city, the wind whipping through my hair. The world below seemed to shrink, its problems and anxieties fading away. For a moment, I was free, unburdened by the weight of my impending marriage and the political turmoil that swirled around me. 

But as we circled back towards the dragon pit, a dark speck on the horizon caught my eye. It grew larger with each passing moment, resolving into the unmistakable silhouette of a ship. Then another, and another. 

Rhaenyra had arrived. 

My heart sank as I guided Solayre back to the pit. I knew I had to hurry back to the castle, to shed my riding clothes and the lingering scent of dragon. I couldn't let Mother catch me in such a state, not on this of all days. 

I dismounted Solayre, my legs trembling with a mixture of exertion and anxiety. I gave her a quick pat on the snout, promising to return soon, then hurried towards the castle. 

As I rounded a corner, I nearly collided with Aegon. He stood in my path, his arms crossed, his expression a mask of annoyance. 

I groaned inwardly, my frustration bubbling to the surface. "Aegon, let me pass," I said, my voice tight with impatience. 

He raised an eyebrow, his eyes raking over my disheveled appearance. "Mother has been searching for you," he said, his voice dripping with disapproval. "I knew you'd be here." 

I sighed, wiping the sweat from my brow with the back of my hand. "Headed to a pleasure house?" I retorted; my voice laced with sarcasm. "Don't let me stop you." 

He ignored my jibe, his gaze hardening. "Our half-sister is en route," he said, his voice clipped. "We've had a raven. I've been sent to fetch you." 

"I can make my way back alone, thank you," I snapped, trying to sidestep him. 

"Ah, I'm sure you can," he said, his voice dripping with condescension. "But I don't want to hear Mother's complaints, so you'll come with me." 

I glared at him, my anger rising. I hated being treated like a child, especially by Aegon. But I knew he was right. Mother would be furious if she found out I had been riding Solayre, especially on the day of Rhaenyra's arrival. 

I reluctantly fell into step beside him, my gaze fixed on the ground. We walked in silence for a while, the tension between us palpable. 

"You know," Aegon said, breaking the silence, "you're not making this any easier on yourself." 

I groaned inwardly, but glanced over at him as we walked in step. "And how would you have me make this easier?" I retorted, my voice laced with bitterness. 

He let out a sigh, as if dealing with my defiance was an endless chore. "Stop being so obstinate," he said, his tone laced with annoyance. "Stop fighting us all at every turn." 

"How are you so resigned to this?" I questioned, my voice lowering to a hushed tone as we turned a corner. "I know you don't want to marry me or become king. I know it's all mother and her plotting." 

We traversed the east wing of the castle, the echoing footsteps and the flickering torchlight amplifying the tension between us. Aegon laughed, a bitter sound that held no humor. 

His eyes slid over to me, a mixture of pity and amusement in their depths. "I am more accustomed to not getting what I want than you are, sister," he said, his voice low and raspy. "I have known this would be the outcome as soon as Heleana was married off. If it wasn't going to be her, then it would be you." 

I stopped walking abruptly, a scoff escaping my lips. He slowly turned to face me, his expression unreadable. 

"She will be displeased—" he started, his voice drained and weary. 

"What of your wants?" I cut him off, my voice rising in frustration. "Beyond whoring and getting drunk, don't you have any?" 

He stared at me for a moment, a flicker of something unidentifiable in his eyes. Then, with a sigh, he grabbed my wrist and pulled me along the corridor. "I do not want another dramatic lecture from her," he said, his voice tight. "Let's go." 

I reluctantly allowed him to lead me, my mind racing. I couldn't fathom how he could be so accepting of this fate, so willing to sacrifice his own desires for Mother's ambition. Did he truly have no dreams of his own? 

As we continued down the corridor, I stole glances at Aegon, trying to decipher the emotions hidden behind his carefully constructed facade. He was a master of disguise, his true feelings buried beneath layers of arrogance and indifference. 

But I knew him better than anyone. I had seen the glimpses of vulnerability, the flashes of anger and resentment that he so carefully concealed. He was not as apathetic as he pretended to be. 

We reached the Red Keep's grand entrance hall, where a flurry of activity greeted us. Servants rushed past, carrying trays laden with food and drink. The air buzzed with anticipation, the whispers and murmurs growing louder with each passing moment. 

"She's here," Aegon said, a hint of grim satisfaction in his voice. 

I nodded, my heart pounding with a mixture of dread and curiosity. I hadn't seen Rhaenyra in years. I wondered how she had changed, how the years of exile had hardened her. 

We made our way to the throne room, where the court had gathered to welcome the returning princess. As we entered, all eyes turned to us, the whispers and murmurs reaching a crescendo. 

I could feel the weight of their stares, their judgments. I straightened my back, lifting my chin in defiance. I would not let them see my fear, my uncertainty. 

The two of us walked side by side toward the Throne where our mother Alicent and Heleana, Aemond and Otto all stood, waiting for Rhaenyra to enter the throne room. 

Alicent's sharp eyes passed over me, noticing my tousled hair and no doubt able to smell the sulfur on me. She opened her mouth to scold me, but Aegon spoke first. 

"She was only visiting Solayre," he said, his voice drawn and precise. My head swiveled to him, but I schooled my expression into one of indifference. He caught my gaze, a silent message passing between us. "She did not take flight," he added, a subtle emphasis on the last word. 

Alicent's eyes narrowed, but she said nothing. She knew better than to challenge Aegon in public, especially not with Rhaenyra's arrival imminent. The tension in the room thickened, a palpable energy that crackled in the air. 

I could feel Rhaenyra's presence before I saw her. It was like a shift in the atmosphere, a sudden chill that swept through the throne room. All eyes turned towards the entrance, where the doors swung open to reveal the returning princess. 

She stood tall and proud, her silver-gold hair cascading down her back like a waterfall of moonlight. Her eyes, the same violet hue as my other siblings, were filled with a fire that had only intensified over the years. She was flanked by her three sons, each one a mirror image of their father, Harwin Strong, though none of us would ever admit that out loud. Those boys were bastards. 

A hush fell over the court as Rhaenyra and her sons made their way towards the throne. The air crackled with unspoken tension, the weight of history hanging heavy in the room. 

I watched Rhaenyra with a mixture of awe and apprehension. She was everything I wasn't: confident, assertive, unafraid to challenge the status quo. I couldn't help but wonder what she thought of me, of my impending marriage to Aegon. 

As she approached the dais, her eyes met mine. For a fleeting moment, I saw a flicker of recognition, a spark of kinship. But it was quickly replaced by a mask of cool indifference. 

She curtsied before Mother, an act of pure political respect, devoid of the warmth and camaraderie they had once shared. It was a stark reminder of the chasm that had grown between them, a chasm filled with bitterness and betrayal. 

"You are welcome here, stepdaughter," Mother said, her voice smooth as silk, yet laced with an undercurrent of malice. She used the term "stepdaughter" deliberately, a calculated jab meant to undermine Rhaenyra's legitimacy and remind her of her precarious position. 

Rhaenyra took it in stride, her expression remaining impassive. She showed no sign of annoyance, no flash of anger in her violet eyes. She was made of ice, it seemed, her emotions carefully concealed beneath a glacial facade. 

She tilted her head slightly as she rose to her feet, her gaze sweeping over the assembled courtiers. Then, she spoke, her voice clear and resonant, echoing through the silent hall. 

"Skorkydoso iksos issa kepa?" she asked, her words spoken in High Valyrian, the ancient language of her ancestors. “How does my father fare?” 

 It was a language she knew Mother did not understand, a subtle power play meant to assert her superiority and remind everyone of her rightful claim to the Iron Throne. 

The room fell into an awkward silence, the courtiers exchanging uneasy glances. Mother's face tightened, her jaw clenching in frustration. She had been outmaneuvered, her authority challenged in her own court. 

After a few moments of tense silence, I spoke, my voice strong and unwavering. "Īlva kepa iksos se ēdrugī, ziry iksos ēdrure," I answered Rhaenyra in fluent High Valyrian. “Our father is tired and rarely wakes.” 

Aegon's hand shot out, his fingers digging into my wrist in a painful warning. I ignored him, my gaze locked with Rhaenyra's. A flicker of surprise crossed her face, followed by a hint of approval. 

"Ziry vestragon issa mandia iksos sȳrī versed isse īlva ānogar," Rhaenyra said, her voice melodic and resonant. "Your command of our mother tongue is impressive, sister." 

A small smile tugged at my lips. "Nyke excel isse issa studies, aōha dārōñe," I replied, my voice clear and confident. "I excel in my studies, thank you, Princess." 

I tried to ignore the daggers my mother glared at me, as well as Aegon's painful hold on my arm. I could already feel bruises forming, but I refused to give them the satisfaction of seeing me flinch. 

Rhaenyra's lips curved into a knowing smile. "Nyke kostagon ūndegon bona," she said with a light laugh, her eyes twinkling with amusement. “I can see that.” 

Then, she turned her attention to my mother, who had schooled her expression expertly before Rhaenyra could see the flash of anger that had crossed her face. 

"I would like to see my father," Rhaenyra said, her eyes fixed on Mother. "My sister tells me he rarely wakes." 

Alicent nodded, her face a mask of grief and regret. "The king rests," she said mournfully, her voice thick with feigned sorrow. "His illness causes him great pain." 

I heard Aegon scoff under his breath, a sound of cynical amusement. He knew as well as I did that Mother's concern for Father's well-being was a carefully crafted facade, a performance designed to elicit sympathy and deflect attention from her own machinations. 

Rhaenyra's gaze remained steady, her eyes piercing through Mother's charade. "I understand," she said, her voice carefully neutral. "But I would still like to pay my respects." 

Mother hesitated for a moment, then nodded reluctantly. "Very well," she said. "I will have someone escort you to his chambers." 

A flicker of a grim smile crossed Rhaenyra's face, revealing a hint of teeth. "I can make the journey myself. This is my home." 

The unspoken challenge hung in the air, the first volley in a power play that had been years in the making. Rhaenyra gathered her skirts and turned, motioning for her boys to follow her. They all did, but the eldest, Jacaerys, met my eyes for a moment before turning to follow his mother. The look was calculating and discerning, a silent claim staked. I felt Aegon stiffen beside me, his grip on my arm tightening. He had noticed it as well. 

Rhaenyra's departure signaled our own dismissal. Aegon, his grip on my arm now a vice-like hold, dragged me from the throne room. The courtiers parted before us, their whispers trailing in our wake. 

Once we were in the relative privacy of the hall, Aegon and our grandfather exchanged a knowing glance. Before I could pull away and make my escape, Aegon pulled me into a darkened alcove, the heavy tapestry curtain muffling the sounds of the bustling castle. 

"What was that stunt you pulled?" he hissed, his fingers digging into my arm again. I winced in pain and wrenched my arm free, his touch leaving a burning sensation on my skin. He towered over me, his imposing figure casting a shadow over my own. 

"Stunt?" I retorted, my voice laced with indignation. "She spoke a language our mother cannot understand. If anything, I helped her." 

He shook his head, nostrils flared, his face contorted in disdain. "You made her look like a pretender," he hissed, pulling the tapestry curtain further down to shield us from the prying eyes of servants and nobles passing in the hall. "And what was that look from the bastard?" 

"You mean your nephew?" I admonished, my voice sharp. 

He scoffed, his hand shooting out to grab my face, his thumb pressing painfully against my cheekbone. His actions were a wretched mirror of our mother's, a chilling reminder of the cruelty that ran in our blood. 

"You had better wake up and realize there are sides to be chosen," he whispered, his voice low and menacing. "And yours is tied to mine, little sister." 

"Let go of me," I demanded, my voice shaking with a mixture of fear and anger. 

He tilted his head, his lilac eyes boring into mine. I saw the malice and disdain there, a reflection of the darkness that lurked within him. He held me there for a moment, his grip tightening, a silent demonstration of the power he held over me. 

"I will do with you what I want," he whispered, his voice a chilling caress against my skin. 

Then, as quickly as he had seized me, he released me, his hand dropping away from my face. He turned and strode out of the alcove, the tapestry swinging closed behind him, leaving me alone in the shadows. 

I leaned against the cool stone wall, my chest heaving with unshed tears. The encounter had left me shaken, a stark reminder of my vulnerability in this world of power and ambition. I was a pawn, a prize to be bartered and traded, my own desires and dreams irrelevant. 

I touched my cheek, the skin still stinging from Aegon's grip. I had always known he was capable of cruelty, but this was a new level of malice, a darkness that I had never seen before. 

I closed my eyes, trying to steady my breathing. I had to compose myself, to present a strong facade to the world. I couldn't let them see my weakness, my fear. 

I took a deep breath, steeling myself for the challenges ahead. I would not be broken. I would not be cowed. I would find a way to survive this, to carve out a life for myself, even in the shadow of Aegon's looming presence. 

The soft chatter of children playing and the rhythmic click of needles filled the air in Heleana's solar, creating a soothing counterpoint to the turmoil that raged within me. My elder sister and I sat side-by-side, embroidering tunics – one for Aegon, the other for Aemond. It was Heleana's idea, a gesture of sisterly solidarity in the face of my impending, unwanted marriage. We were stitching miniature versions of their dragons, Sunfyre and Vhagar, onto the sleeves, each stitch a testament to the complex tapestry of our family ties. 

Heleana, as usual, was silent company. It was a quality I cherished in her, a quiet understanding that transcended words. We could exist in comfortable silence, the unspoken bond between us a balm for my troubled heart. 

But after a few long moments, she broke the tranquility. "It is not so bad being married," she said, her eyes lifting to meet mine over the fabric she held close to her face. 

I let out a deep sigh, the knot of tension in my chest tightening. "You got the easier of the three," I replied with a grimace, pulling the needle and thread through the thick fabric of Aegon's sleeve. "Aemond and you have been a calm match. I'd have preferred Daeron at this point." 

A soft smile touched Heleana's lips. "He will most likely ignore you," she said, her voice gentle. "Be thankful he is preoccupied with whores and wine." 

I swallowed down the bile that rose in my throat at the thought of the man I was soon to marry. He was a fool, a drunken, lecherous fool. "Is it wrong of me to have wanted more?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper. "Happiness? Peace? Freedom?" 

Heleana set the stitching down on her lap, her gaze filled with a sadness that mirrored my own. "We are women, Clem," she said, her voice heavy with resignation. "We do not get to choose, dear sister." 

Her words echoed the sentiment Mother had expressed just days before. It was a bitter truth, a stark reminder of the limitations placed upon us by birth and tradition. We were pawns in a game played by men, our destinies dictated by the whims of kings and the machinations of power-hungry advisors. 

A wave of despair washed over me, threatening to drown me in its depths. I felt trapped, suffocated by the expectations and obligations that surrounded me. I longed for the freedom I had once felt on the back of Solayre, soaring through the skies, unburdened by the weight of the world. 

Just as the darkness threatened to consume me, a small, chubby hand reached out and wrapped around my neck. I looked down to see Maelor, Heleana's youngest son, gazing up at me with wide, innocent eyes. The same eyes they all shared, that strange violet hue that I had longed for my whole life. 

"Play with me!" he exclaimed; his voice filled with childish delight. I couldn't help but smile, the warmth of his embrace melting away some of the ice that had encased my heart. I scooped him up onto my lap, his giggles filling the room with a much-needed lightness. 

"Of course, my darling," I said, nuzzling his soft cheek. "What shall we play?" 

He pointed to a pile of wooden blocks on the floor. "Build a castle!" he declared, his eyes shining with excitement. 

I set him down and we began to construct a magnificent fortress, our laughter echoing through the solar. For a brief moment, I forgot my troubles, lost in the simple joy of playing with my nephew. 

As the afternoon wore on, we continued to embroider, our conversation drifting from idle chatter to more serious topics. We spoke of our hopes and fears, our dreams and disappointments. We shared stories of our childhood, of the days before the weight of the crown had settled upon our shoulders. 

For the first time in a long time, I felt truly seen, truly understood. Heleana listened without judgment, her empathy a balm for my wounded spirit. She didn't offer solutions or platitudes, but simply held space for my pain. 

As the sun began to shift to early afternoon, casting long shadows across the solar, Maelor grew tired and curled up on my lap, his tiny hand clutching my finger. I stroked his soft hair, a sense of peace settling over me. 

The serenity of the afternoon was shattered by the sudden flurry of activity as Heleana's ladies maids entered the solar, my own trailing behind them, their arms laden with gowns that Mother had undoubtedly chosen for us. The sight of the elaborate dresses was a stark reminder of the impending call to the throne room, a summons that filled me with a sense of dread. 

"Why must we go to this hearing?" I complained, my voice echoing in the now quiet room as Maelor and Jaehaerys were whisked away by their wet nurses. My question was directed at Heleana, but it was Roslin, my own lady-in-waiting, who answered. 

"You are in the line of succession, Princess," she said, her voice gentle but firm. She began to untie the laces of my gown, her fingers deft and practiced. 

I sighed, the weight of my unwanted position pressing down on me. "But why now?" I pressed, my frustration mounting. "Rhaenyra has just arrived. Surely, this can wait." 

"This entire hearing is for Rhaenyra's son, Princess," Roslin said softly as she peeled the previous dress off of me and opted instead for one of deep green velvet. I was tiring of these green gowns I had been forced to wear my whole life. Heleana ignored the talk between Roslin and I as they dressed her in a soft gown of gold silk that flattered her beautiful silver hair. 

I inhaled sharply as I was laced into the too-tight, too-stifling gown, but I didn't let the matter drop. "What about the boy?" I demanded, even though he wasn't a boy any longer, only a few years younger than I was. 

"They call into account the Prince's claim for his inheritance," Roslin mumbled while she adjusted the tightness of the corset before she turned to braiding the crown of my hair. “For Driftmark, Princess.” 

"Those bloody liars," I exclaimed loudly and angrily at being deceived about the true purpose of Rhaenyra's sudden appearance back at the Red Keep. "I swear no one tells me anything." 

This caught Heleana's attention. She tutted and walked over to me, taking over for Roslin and beginning to finish braiding the crown of my hair, leaving the rest loose. 

"Such foul language, sister," she admonished with a small smile. I rolled my eyes at her, the gesture a familiar dance between us. 

"It's frustrating," I retorted, my voice tight. "I'm treated like a child, kept in the dark about matters that directly affect me." 

Heleana's smile faded, replaced by a look of understanding. "I know," she said softly. "But it is the way of things here. We are women in a man's world. We must learn to navigate the shadows, to glean information where we can." 

Her words were a bitter echo of my own thoughts. I had always chafed against the constraints placed upon me, the expectations that I should be docile and obedient. But I was a Targaryen, with fire in my blood and a dragon's spirit in my heart. I yearned for more than a life of embroidery and courtly gossip. 

I sighed, resigning myself to my fate. "I suppose you're right," I said, my voice heavy with resignation. "But it doesn't make it any easier." 

Heleana finished braiding my hair, her touch gentle and soothing. "No," she agreed, her voice barely a whisper. "It doesn't." 

We stood there for a moment, two sisters bound by blood and a shared sense of frustration. We were both trapped in a gilded cage, our wings clipped, our voices silenced. 

"Will you go find Mother and ask her where Dyana has gotten off to? She was supposed to get the children ready for bed before the hearing." Heleana's request broke the momentary peace in the solar, and I nodded, turning to Roslin. 

"Where is my mother?" I asked, knowing she had spoken to her before bringing us these horrendous dresses. She sighed, gathering up Heleana's and my discarded gowns. "She is in your brother's chambers." 

"Aemond?" I asked hopefully, but she shook her head. 

"Aegon's then?" I clarified, and she nodded. I rolled my eyes and left out of the door, traversing the east wing to where my brother's chambers were. A wave of frustration washed over me. I didn't want to deal with either of them, but duty called for me as it always did. I quickened my pace, my footsteps echoing through the silent corridors. 

Reaching Aegon's chambers, I opened the door without knocking, my irritation overriding any sense of propriety. I strode past his large solar and into his bedchamber, only to freeze at the sight that greeted me. 

Aegon stood by his bed, his usually impeccable appearance disheveled. He was clad only in a sheet, held loosely around his waist, his bare chest exposed. His eyes, usually cold and calculating, were red-rimmed and filled with a raw vulnerability I had never seen before. It was clear he had been crying. 

Our eyes met, and I was momentarily paralyzed by the intensity of his gaze. It was a look I had never seen from him before, a mixture of pain, longing, and something else I couldn't quite decipher. 

Mother, who had been standing a few steps away from Aegon, turned at the sound of my entrance. Her eyes widened in surprise, then narrowed in disapproval. 

I stumbled over my words, my voice barely a whisper. "Heleana sent me to find Dyana," I managed to say, finally tearing my gaze away from Aegon. "She was supposed to dress the boys before the hearing." I saw Aegon wince slightly as I spoke the servant girl's name. A chill ran down my spine. What had I interrupted? 

Mother remained uncharacteristically silent, her eyes darting between Aegon and me. Then, in a move that shocked me to my core, she stepped towards me and pulled me into her arms, embracing me tightly. 

I froze, my body rigid with surprise. Her touch felt foreign, almost repulsive. My arms remained stiff at my sides, my eyes wide with confusion. I glanced at Aegon, seeking an explanation, but he only looked away, his jaw clenched. 

Mother's embrace lingered, her grip tightening as if she were trying to hold on to something slipping away. A wave of nausea washed over me. I had never seen Mother like this before. She was always so composed, so in control. To see her unraveling like this, her carefully constructed facade crumbling, was both unsettling and deeply disturbing. 

Finally, she released me, her eyes red and swollen. "Go," she said, her voice hoarse. “And tell Heleana that we will be there shortly." 

I nodded, my mind reeling. I fled the room, my footsteps echoing in the silent corridor. I didn't look back, afraid of what I might see. 

The questions swirled in my mind, unanswered and unsettling. I felt like I was caught in a web of secrets and lies, a tangled mess of emotions and hidden agendas. 

The throne room, once a place of joyous celebrations and grand pronouncements, now bore a heavy, somber atmosphere. The air crackled with unspoken tension, each breath a whispered echo of the court's collective anxiety. I stood between Heleana and Aegon, a prisoner flanked by reluctant guards. He had avoided me since our earlier encounter, his usual arrogance replaced by a haunted look that clung to the corners of his eyes. I couldn't shake the image of his raw vulnerability, the tears he had tried so desperately to conceal. 

Otto Hightower, our grandfather, the Hand of the King, stood before the assembled nobles, his voice commanding attention. "Though it is the great hope of this court that Lord Corlys Velaryon survive his wounds," he began, his tone grave, "we gather here with the grim task of dealing with the succession of Driftmark." He settled onto the Iron Throne, a stark reminder of the power he wielded in my father's absence. His cloak, a rich tapestry of woven deep almost black green, pooled around him, its weight a symbol of the burden he carried. 

"As Hand, I speak with the King's voice on this and all other matters," he continued, his words echoing through the chamber. "The Crown will now hear the petitions." A pause, heavy with anticipation. "Ser Vaemond of House Velaryon." 

Otto's voice, though aged, carried the authority of a man accustomed to command. The room held its breath, the silence broken only by the soft rustle of silk and the clinking of armor. My mother, Alicent, stood beside Heleana, her face a stoic mask, her posture rigid. The weight of the moment pressed down on us all, a suffocating blanket of unease. 

I longed to escape, to flee from the suffocating formality and the undercurrents of political intrigue. But I was trapped, a gilded bird in a cage of my own making. I could only watch as the drama unfolded, a spectator in a play where my own fate hung in the balance. 

Ser Vaemond stepped forward, his bearing proud and defiant. His aging silver hair was pulled back from his face, revealing the sharp angles of his cheekbones and the deep lines etched by years of duty and hardship. His dark skin and piercing dark eyes spoke of his Velaryon blood, a lineage as ancient and proud as our own. He was every bit the lord he claimed to be, his presence demanding respect. 

"My queen," he began, his voice resonant and clear, "My lord Hand. The history of our noble houses extends beyond the Seven Kingdoms to the days of Old Valyria. For as long as House Targaryen has ruled the skies, House Velaryon has ruled the seas."    

His words painted a picture of intertwined destinies, a reminder of the ancient bond between our two houses. It was a powerful opening, an appeal to tradition and blood ties that resonated with the gathered nobles. 

"When the Doom fell on Valyria," he continued, his voice tinged with a hint of sorrow, "our houses became the last of their kind. Our forebearers came to this new land, knowing that were they to fail, it would mean the end to their bloodlines and their name."    

His words hung in the air, a stark reminder of the fragility of power, the ever-present threat of oblivion. The room seemed to darken, the shadows lengthening as the weight of history pressed down upon us. 

"I have spent my entire life on Driftmark defending my brother's seat," Vaemond declared, his voice rising with passion. "I am Lord Corlys's closest kin, his own blood. The true, unimpeachable blood of House Velaryon runs through my veins." 

He paused, his gaze sweeping over the assembled courtiers, daring them to challenge his claim. A murmur rippled through the crowd, a mix of agreement and unease. 

Beside me, Aegon shifted restlessly, a sound of boredom escaping his lips. I turned to him, my eyes narrowing. His jaw was clenched, his hands trembling slightly. They had kept him sober for this event, and it was clear he was struggling to maintain his composure. 

Our eyes met, and for a fleeting moment, I saw a reflection of my own misery in his gaze. We were both trapped, both pawns in a game we didn't want to play. 

But as quickly as the connection had formed, it was broken. Aegon turned away, his attention drifting back to the proceedings. I was left alone with my thoughts, the weight of the moment pressing down on me with renewed force. 

A wave of anticipation swept through the throne room as Rhaenyra's voice rang out, cutting through the tense silence like a Valyrian steel blade. "As it does in my sons," she declared, her tone regal and unwavering, "the offspring of Laenor Velaryon." 

Her words hung in the air, a challenge to Ser Vaemond's claim, a bold assertion of her own sons' legitimacy. The court held its breath, sensing the shift in power dynamics, the clash of wills between two formidable figures. 

"If you cared so much about your house's blood, Ser Vaemond," Rhaenyra continued, her voice laced with a subtle accusation, "you would not be so bold as to supplant its rightful heir." Her gaze remained fixed on him, her eyes burning with a righteous fire. "No, you only speak for yourself and for your own ambition." 

A slight huff escaped Mother's lips, a barely audible expression of her disapproval. I kept my eyes downcast, the tension in the room palpable, my own pulse echoing the quickened heartbeat of the realm. 

"You will have a chance to make your own petition, Princess Rhaenyra," Mother interjected, her voice sharp and controlled. "Do Ser Vaemond the courtesy of allowing his to be heard." She stood tall; her arms crossed protectively over her chest. 

Vaemond turned to face Rhaenyra, his posture radiating smug arrogance. "What do you know of Velaryon blood, Princess?" he sneered, his voice dripping with condescension. "I could cut my veins and show it to you, and you still wouldn't recognize it." 

His words hung heavy in the air; a venomous barb aimed at Rhaenyra's heart. The room seemed to shrink, the suffocating silence amplifying the animosity between them. 

"This is about the future and survival of my house, not yours," Vaemond continued, his voice rising with each word. "My queen, my lord Hand. This is a matter of blood, not ambition." He paused, his gaze sweeping over the assembled nobles, his eyes burning with a fierce determination. 

"I place the continuation and survival of my house and my line above all," he declared, his voice echoing through the chamber. "I humbly put myself before you as my brother's successor... the Lord of Driftmark and Lord of the Tides." 

A tense silence followed his proclamation. The weight of his words, the gravity of his request, hung heavy in the air. The fate of Driftmark, a crucial stronghold for the realm, rested on the decision that would be made today. 

Otto nodded slowly, his expression thoughtful. "Thank you, Ser Vaemond," he said, his voice measured. "Your petition has been heard." 

All eyes turned to Rhaenyra, the room buzzing with anticipation. The game was afoot, the lines drawn. The future of House Velaryon, and perhaps even the realm itself, hung in the balance. 

My grandfather spoke once again from his stolen throne, his voice echoing in the tense silence. It was in those rare moments, where the fate of our house hung in the balance, that I longed for my father's presence. I wished he could be here, strong and resolute, to stop this farce, to quell the rising tide of ambition and greed. I yearned for him to sweep me away from this world of politics and scheming, to allow me to live my life beyond the shadow of the Iron Throne. But it was a futile wish, a fleeting dream. My father was a ghost, a mere whisper of his former self, his life ebbing away with each passing day. 

"Thank you, Ser Vaemond," Otto declared, his voice cutting through the silence. "Princess Rhaenyra, you may now speak for your son, Lucerys Velaryon." 

Rhaenyra stepped forward, her expression a mask of controlled anger. Vaemond's audacious claim to her son's inheritance had clearly struck a nerve. 

"If I am to grace this farce with some answer," she began, her voice dripping with disdain, "I will start by reminding the court that nearly twenty years ago, in this very..." 

Her words were abruptly cut off by the creak of the massive double doors swinging open. A shaft of sunlight pierced the gloom of the throne room, illuminating the figures that stood in the doorway. A collective gasp swept through the court, a ripple of shock and disbelief. 

At the head of the procession stood the Kingsguard, their armor gleaming in the light. But it was the figure behind them that captured everyone's attention. My father, King Viserys, once a towering presence, now a frail and broken man, shuffled into the room. 

"King Viserys of House Targaryen, the First of His Name, King of the Andals and the Rhoynar and the First Men, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms and Protector of the Realm," the herald announced, his voice echoing through the hushed chamber.    

My father hobbled forward, his back stooped, his steps unsteady. His once-handsome face was ravaged by illness, his skin stretched taut over his bones. A mask covered half of his face, concealing the ravages of his disease. He leaned heavily on a cane, each step a testament to his diminished strength. 

I could feel the shock emanating from my siblings beside me. Mother's mouth hung slightly open, her carefully constructed composure momentarily shattered. But it was Rhaenyra's face that held my attention. Her eyes, usually so cold and calculating, were now filled with a raw, unadulterated love. He had come for her, for his beloved daughter, the one he had always favored. 

A pang of bitterness pierced my heart. He had never looked at me with such tenderness, such warmth. I was just another daughter, a spare, an afterthought. 

Otto slowly rose from the throne, his face a mask of shock and disbelief. I tried but couldn't ignore the small grunts of pain that escaped my father's lips as he made his way towards the throne. Each step seemed to take an agonizing effort; his body wracked with pain. 

The room was silent, the only sound the soft shuffle of his feet and the ragged rhythm of his breathing. The weight of the moment pressed down on us, a suffocating reminder of the fragility of life, the inevitability of death. 

His gaze swept past us, his children, a fleeting glance that held no recognition, no warmth. It was a dismissal, a silent confirmation of our insignificance in this moment. My eyes flicked to Mother, expecting to see her usual stoic mask, but instead, I was met with a look of profound empathy. Her face, usually so composed, was etched with lines of pain and sorrow. Tears welled up in her dark hazel eyes, a testament to the depth of her commitment for the man who was slowly fading before us. 

I wanted to dismiss it as a farce, a performance for the benefit of the court. But I couldn't ignore the raw emotion in her eyes, the genuine anguish that twisted her features. For the first time, I saw Mother not as a calculating strategist, but as a woman grappling with the impending loss of her husband and the only power or control, she had ever had for herself. 

But any flicker of sympathy I felt for her was quickly extinguished by the sight of the love and adoration that shone in his eyes as he gazed upon our half-sister. It was a look I had never received, a look that spoke of a deep and abiding bond. The realization that I was, and always had been, a spare, a mere footnote in my father's life, pierced my heart with a jealous bitterness. 

I schooled my expression, forcing my features into a mask of neutrality. I would not let anyone see my inner turmoil, the maelstrom of emotions that threatened to consume me. 

With a final, agonizing effort, my father reached the foot of the dais. His back was hunched, his limbs trembling with the strain. I could see the dread in his eyes, the knowledge that this climb, this simple act of ascending the steps to his own throne, might be beyond his weakened body. 

He paused, his gaze fixed on the ground, as if gathering his strength. "I shall sit the throne today," he declared, his voice a raspy whisper that echoed through the silent hall. 

Otto, realizing the futility of protest, nodded in deference. "Your Grace," he said, his voice heavy with resignation. He stepped down from the throne, his cloak swirling around him like a shroud. He crossed the dais to Mother's side, his presence a silent offer of support. 

My father turned his gaze towards the steps, his face a mask of grim determination. He took a hesitant step, his body swaying precariously. A collective gasp rose from the court, a shared intake of breath as we all witnessed his struggle. 

Ser Erryk Cargyll, a member of the Kingsguard, stepped forward, his hand outstretched to assist the king. But Viserys waved him away, his voice a stubborn rasp. "I will be fine," he insisted, his pride refusing to yield to his weakened state. "I will be fine." 

He took another step, his body straining with the effort. He glanced down, his eyes focusing on his feet, on the treacherous climb ahead. And then, with a sickening lurch, the crown tumbled from his head, rolling across the marble floor with a hollow clatter. 

I closed my eyes, a wave of anguish washing over me. The sight of my father, once so powerful and majestic, reduced to this pathetic state, was almost too much to bear. 

From the corner of my eye, I saw Daemon Targaryen, my uncle, step forward from his place among the courtiers. He moved with a grace that belied his reputation as a rogue prince, his silver-gold hair gleaming in the sunlight that streamed through the high windows. 

He knelt beside the fallen crown, his long fingers closing around it with a hesitant touch. He lifted it, his gaze fixed on his brother, a complex mix of emotions swirling in his violet eyes. 

"I said I am fine," Viserys rasped, his voice weak but defiant. 

He looked up, his eyes widening in surprise as he saw Daemon standing before him, the crown held aloft. For a moment, time seemed to stand still, the two brothers locked in a silent exchange that spoke volumes. 

Finally, Daemon spoke, his voice soft but firm. "Come on," he said, extending his hand. 

Viserys hesitated, his pride warring with his exhaustion. But then, with a sigh of surrender, he reached out and took Daemon's hand. 

I watched with a throat thick with emotion as Daemon helped his brother up the steps, his every movement a testament to their shared history, their complex bond of love and rivalry. 

When they reached the throne, Daemon gently placed the crown back on Viserys's head. Then, with a final, meaningful look, he stepped back and returned to his place beside Rhaenyra. 

The weight of the moment pressed down on me, a crushing burden of sorrow and regret. I had wasted so much time resenting my father, envying Rhaenyra's place in his heart. 

"I must... admit... my confusion," my father's voice, though raspy and weak, echoed with a surprising strength, cutting through the tense atmosphere. "I do not understand why petitions are being heard over a settled succession." He paused, his breath hitching in his chest, but his eyes remained resolute. 

"The only one present... who might offer keener insight into Lord Corlys's wishes is the Princess Rhaenys." 

All eyes turned to Princess Rhaenys, the Queen Who Never Was. Despite the passage of time, she retained an aura of regal beauty. Her silver-streaked hair was pulled back in an elegant chignon, her once vibrant violet eyes now tinged with a hint of melancholy. The lines on her face spoke of a life lived amidst hardship and loss, yet her posture remained proud, her spirit unbroken.    

She stepped forward, her gaze unwavering. "Indeed, Your Grace," she affirmed, her voice carrying the weight of her lineage. "It was ever my husband's will that Driftmark pass through Ser Laenor to his trueborn son... Lucerys Velaryon. His mind never changed. Nor did my support of him."    

A wave of murmurs rippled through the court, a mixture of surprise and anticipation. Rhaenys had spoken, and her words carried immense weight. 

"As a matter of fact," she continued, a sly smile gracing her lips, "the Princess Rhaenyra has just informed me of her desire to marry her sons Jace and Luke to Lord Corlys's granddaughters, Baela and Rhaena. A proposal to which I heartily agree."    

Her declaration was met with a hushed silence. The implications of this union were clear: a further consolidation of power within Rhaenyra's line, a strengthening of her claim to the Iron Throne. 

A soft noise from my left drew my attention. Aegon, his lips curled into a smug smile, was barely containing his laughter. I was taken aback by his sudden change in demeanor. He had been so sullen and withdrawn just moments before. Now, his eyes sparkled with a cruel amusement, as if he relished the chaos that was unfolding. 

My attention snapped back to my father as he spoke once more. "Well... the matter is settled. Again," he wheezed, his voice strained but resolute. "I hereby reaffirm Prince Lucerys of House Velaryon as heir to Driftmark, the Driftwood Throne, and the next Lord of the Tides."    

The room erupted in whispers, a cacophony of reactions. Some nodded in approval, others shifted uneasily in their seats. But it was Vaemond's reaction that cut through the noise like a thunderclap. 

"You break law... and centuries of tradition to install your daughter as heir," he spat, his voice venomous. "Yet you dare tell me... who deserves to inherit the name Velaryon. No. I will not allow it." 

The temperature in the room plummeted. Vaemond's defiance hung in the air, a challenge to the King's authority, a spark that threatened to ignite a conflagration. 

"Allow it?" my father wheezed, his anger fueling a surge of strength. "Do not forget yourself, Vaemond." 

Vaemond trembled with barely contained rage. "That is no true Velaryon," he snarled, his eyes burning with hatred, "and certainly no nephew of mine." 

The words, spoken with such venom, pierced the heart of the matter. The age-old accusation, the whispered rumors that had plagued Rhaenyra's sons for years, were now laid bare before the court. They were bastards, born of adultery, their claim to the Velaryon name a lie. 

The tension in the room was suffocating, a palpable darkness that seemed to seep into every corner. I felt Aegon stiffen beside me, his hand clenching into a fist. The fragile peace that had held the court together was crumbling, and the consequences were impossible to foresee. 

 Rhaenyra's protective instincts flared, her maternal fury a tangible force as she shielded Lucerys from the storm brewing before them. The boy, sensing the danger, retreated behind his mother, his young eyes wide with fear.  

"Go to your chambers, you have said enough." My sister tried to reaffirm her standing, to recover some form of control.  

"Lucerys is my true-born grandson." He took a steadying breath. "And you... are no more than the second son of Driftmark." 

Viserys's voice, though weakened by illness, still commanded authority. His words, a mix of exhaustion and unwavering determination, sliced through the chaos, reminding everyone present of the true lineage at stake. The room hung on his every breath, the weight of his declaration settling heavily upon Vaemond's shoulders. 

"You... may run your house as you see fit... but you will not decide the future of mine. My house survived the Doom and a thousand tribulations besides. And gods be damned... I will not see it ended on the account of this..." 

At Vaemond’s words all went still, I could see then anger the venom behind this man. It made me want to cower. 

Daemon, ever the lurking shadow, watched the proceedings with a cold, calculating gaze. His silence was more menacing than any outburst, his predatory stillness a stark contrast to the turmoil unfolding around him. His dark violet eyes flicked from Vaemond to Rhaenyra's children, the threat hanging in the air. “Say it.”  

Vaemond, cornered and desperate, made a fateful decision. His gaze darted between Daemon and Rhaenyra, his defiance battling with a flicker of fear. In a final act of desperation, he unleashed his venomous words, spitting them at Rhaenyra with a hatred that chilled the room. 

"Her children are BASTARDS!" He screamed the word so close to Rhaenyra, and so full of hatred. The were hushed whispers and I heard Aemond let out a whoosh of air behind me. "And she... is... a whοre." Vaemond finished. 

The silence that followed was deafening, shattered only by the gasps of shock and disgust. Aemond's sharp intake of breath echoed through the stillness, a testament to the audacity of Vaemond's accusation. Helaena, beside me, shifted uncomfortably, her sensitivity attuned to the discordant energy that now permeated the room. 

I couldn't tear my eyes away from the scene unfolding before me. Viserys rose to his feet, his fury evident, but my attention was drawn to Daemon. He moved with a chilling grace, closing the distance between himself and Vaemond with a predator's stealth. 

"I will have your tongue for that." I heard my father command, his voice strained from the effort it took to stay standing. Viserys's command to remove Vaemond's tongue was lost in the horrifying spectacle that followed. Daemon's sword flashed, a swift and brutal arc that separated the top half of Vaemond’s head from his jaw. The sickening thud of his body hitting the floor, the spray of blood that painted the room in crimson, it all seemed to happen in slow motion. 

I let out a choked cry of horror, burying my face in Aegon's shoulder. The world around me dissolved into a blur of screams to disarm Daemon and chaos, but I clung to my brother, seeking refuge from the gruesome reality. To my surprise, he didn't push me away. Instead, his hand found my forearm, his grip firm and reassuring. 

Daemon's voice, laced with a chilling satisfaction, sliced through the lingering shock. "He can keep his tongue," he declared, a cruel smirk playing on his lips as he leaned casually on the blood-soaked blade. The gruesome evidence of his deed dripped onto the pristine marble floor, a stark reminder of the violence that had just unfolded. 

My grandfather's voice, though weakened, boomed with a righteous anger. "Disarm him!" he commanded, his words echoing through the stunned silence. Yet, even in his fury, there was an undercurrent of despair, a weariness that seemed to seep from his very core. 

I remained huddled against Aegon, my face buried in the crook of his shoulder. I inhaled deeply, trying to steady my racing heart. The metallic scent of blood mingled with the familiar scent of my brother, a strange and unsettling combination. I felt his hand gently squeeze my arm, a silent reassurance amidst the chaos. 

Daemon's response was swift and dismissive. "No need," he said, sheathing his sword with a practiced ease. The sound of metal sliding against leather was oddly final, punctuating the end of the gruesome spectacle. 

Aegon's touch drew me from my refuge. His hand tapped my arm, not gentle any longer but firm and demanding of my attention. I reluctantly lifted my head, my gaze following his towards our father. Viserys, his face pale and drawn, swayed on his feet. A soft groan escaped his lips as he collapsed back onto the Iron Throne, his frail body succumbing to the weight of the crown and the burden of his grief. 

"Call the maesters!" my mother's voice rang out, sharp and urgent. She rushed to his side, her skirts swirling around her ankles. I watched as she knelt beside him, her cool composure momentarily shattered. Her words, laced with desperation, pleaded with him to stay. It was a raw and intimate display of vulnerability, a glimpse into the depths of their complex relationship. 

My grip on Aegon's arm loosened as I witnessed the scene unfold. My father, once a towering figure, now seemed small and fragile, leaning heavily on my mother for support. It was a poignant tableau, a stark reminder of the relentless passage of time and the inevitability of mortality. 

Sir Erryk stepped forward, his strong arms offering a steady support as my father was helped from the throne. The descent was slow and labored, each step a testament to his failing strength. A wave of sadness washed over me, a profound sense of loss that seemed to echo the waning light in my father's eyes. 

The aftermath was a blur. My mother, her composure regained, swept Helaena and me from the blood-soaked throne room. The air crackled with unspoken horrors, and my grandfather's hand trembled on my shoulder as he ushered us towards the Sept. 

Inside the hallowed chamber, bathed in the cool light filtering through stained glass, we were expected to pray away the visions of Vaemond's brutal demise. To beseech the Mother for peace. But I had no faith in these painted deities, these silent idols who had witnessed countless atrocities and offered nothing but hollow comfort. 

"We are above these mortal gods," I muttered under my breath to Helaena, my voice laced with bitterness. Her eyes snapped open, her fervent prayer interrupted. A flicker of unease crossed her features. 

"Not in here," she pleaded, her voice a hushed whisper. "Do not do this in here." 

I sighed, rolling my eyes in defiance, but lowered my head in a pretense of reverence. The Seven had never answered my prayers. I'd spent a lifetime kneeling before their altars, pleading for respite from the pain, the loneliness, the gnawing sense of wrongness that haunted my every waking moment. Yet, nothing had changed. 

Helaena's voice broke the silence, her tone shifting to that ethereal cadence she adopted when the Sight took hold. It sent a shiver down my spine. I'd learned to heed her prophecies, their accuracy unnerving. 

"This is only the start," she murmured, her eyes clouded and distant. "It will begin with a dance. It will end with one as well." 

Her gaze met mine, her pupils dilated, her expression vacant. A chill swept over me. I reached out, touching her cheek, my voice thick with concern. "Sister, should I get the maester?" 

She blinked, startled, and recoiled from my touch. Her aversion to physical contact was a constant source of sadness, a reminder of her isolation. 

"Whatever for?" she asked, her voice flat, the Sight's grip receding. 

I hesitated, searching her face for any lingering trace of the prophecy. But Helaena had already withdrawn, her gaze fixed on the altar, her lips moving in silent prayer. I lowered my hand, a knot of dread tightening in my chest. The dance had begun, and I feared the steps we were all destined to take. 

As if the forced prayer hadn't been enough of an ordeal, my ailing father, miraculously resurrected to a state of command, decreed a family dinner. And so, Helaena and I were once again subjected to the rituals of courtly presentation. We were adorned in matching gowns of shimmering gold silk, the fabric clinging to our forms with an almost indecent intimacy. Our hair, styled identically, was braided simply across our crowns, the rest cascading down our backs in a show of contrived sisterly unity. 

The gathering took place in the smaller, more intimate dining hall, a relic of a bygone era when we all resided under one roof. The air crackled with unspoken tension, a palpable reminder of the recent violence and simmering resentments. Helaena and I sat side-by-side, my hands clasped tightly in my lap, my fingers picked at my nail beds until blood welled beneath the skin. 

My sister and grandfather exchanged pleasantries, their smiles strained, their laughter hollow. At the opposite end of the table, Aegon and Aemond engaged in a stilted conversation, their words carefully chosen, their eyes darting nervously towards the other occupants of the room. 

Rhaenyra and her sons sat with their intended brides, a tableau of forced alliances and uneasy truces. Baela and Rhaena, perched beside Luke and Jace respectively, seemed remarkably at ease, their interactions with their betrothed filled with genuine warmth and laughter. I envied their effortless camaraderie, their apparent comfort in the roles they were expected to play. 

My own betrothed, meanwhile, materialized behind me, pulling out my chair with a flourish. He swatted my hand away from my bleeding cuticles, his reprimand silent but unmistakable. 

I opened my mouth to protest, but the doors swung open, silencing the room. We all rose as my father, a frail specter of his former self, was carried in on his chair. His eyes, sunken and weary, scanned the assembled faces, a flicker of something akin to hope crossing his features. The tension in the room intensified, each of us bracing for the storm we knew was coming. 

As we settled into our assigned places, a palpable tension hung in the air like a suffocating shroud. I bit the inside of my cheek, the discomfort manifesting physically as a nervous tic. My father, a fragile figure propped between my mother and Rhaenyra, surveyed the room with weary eyes. Rhaenyra had subtly shifted closer to Daemon, creating a space for our father, a tableau of forced unity that did little to ease the underlying discord. My gaze flickered between them, a cynical observer of this carefully choreographed facade. 

"How good it is... to see all of you tonight..." My father's voice, raspy and strained, echoed through the silence. He paused, gathering his strength, before finishing, "Together." His eyes met my mother's briefly, then shifted to Rhaenyra and Daemon. 

I lowered my gaze, my fingers resuming their relentless assault on the tender flesh around my cuticles. The silence stretched, heavy and oppressive, until my mother's voice broke through, gentle but insistent. "Prayer before we begin?" 

My father nodded, a pained sigh escaping his lips. "Yes." 

I kept my head bowed, but my eyes remained open, fixated on the tiny beads of blood that bloomed beneath my nails. My mother's voice filled the room, her words a hollow recitation of empty platitudes. 

"May the Mother smile down on this gathering with love. May the Smith mend the bonds that have been broken for far too long. And to Vaemond Velaryon, may the Gods give him rest."    

Her voice faded, but I remained unmoved, my heart hardened against the hypocrisy of it all. I longed to escape, to flee from this suffocating display of forced harmony. 

My father's voice, heavy with the unspoken weight of his illness, cut through my thoughts. "This is an occasion for celebration, it seems. My grandsons, Jace and Luke, will marry their cousins Baela and Rhaena, further strengthening the bond between our houses."    

He paused, his breath hitching in his chest. "A toast to the Princes and their betrothed." 

"Hear, hear!" Daemon's voice boomed, a jarring counterpoint to the somber atmosphere. We all raised our glasses, the clinking crystal a discordant symphony. 

My mother's voice, cool and composed, pierced the momentary cheer. "A toast as well to our own Prince and Princess who will be married before the season has ended." 

My gaze snapped up to meet my father's. A flicker of recognition passed between us, and he nodded, a ghost of a smile gracing his lips. "To our own Prince as well." 

But I was not acknowledged, my existence overlooked once again. An afterthought, as always. A wave of bitterness washed over me, threatening to drown me in its icy depths. I wanted to scream, to shatter the illusion of unity, to demand the recognition that had always been denied. But I remained silent, my anger simmering beneath the surface, a volatile force waiting to be unleashed. 

I took a long, deep swig of my goblet, letting the rich arbor red wine cascade down my throat, its fiery sweetness a momentary distraction from the simmering tension in the room. I felt the warmth spread through my veins, a welcome counterpoint to the icy dread that had settled in my gut. 

"Well done, Jace," Aegon's voice, laced with a hint of mockery, broke through my reverie. "You'll finally get to lie with a woman." I sighed, slumping further into my chair, wondering how much longer we'd be subjected to this charade. 

"Let us toast as well," I interjected, raising my glass towards Lucerys. "To Prince Lucerys, the future Lord of the Tides." The young boy's face lit up with a grateful smile, and I felt a genuine warmth towards him, a flicker of empathy amidst the suffocating atmosphere. 

"You do know how the act is done, I assume?" Aegon's relentless teasing continued, his voice low and suggestive. "At least in principle? Where to put your cock and all that." 

I cringed, regretting my momentary engagement with the conversation. I took another sip of wine, the thought of such intimacies sending a shiver down my spine. I turned to Helaena, hoping to find solace in her conversation with our grandfather. 

But Aegon, Baela, and Jace were locked in a hushed, heated exchange, their whispers laced with barely concealed animosity. I tried to tune them out, focusing instead on the intricate patterns woven into the tablecloth. 

Suddenly, a clatter of cutlery startled me. I looked up to see my father struggling to his feet, his face contorted in pain. 

"It both gladdens my heart and fills me with sorrow to see these faces around the table," he began, his voice raspy and weak. "The faces most dear to me in all the world... yet grown so distant from each other in the years past." 

He paused, taking a labored breath, before continuing. "My own face... is no longer a handsome one," he chuckled, the sound hollow and tinged with sadness. "If indeed it ever was. But tonight... I wish you to see me as I am. Not just a king... but your father." 

His gaze lingered on Rhaenyra, a complex mix of emotions swirling in his eyes. Then he turned to us, the 'cast offs', the 'spares', his expression softening with a melancholic tenderness. "Your brother," he said, nodding towards Daemon. 

He looked at my mother, and I followed his gaze, my heart aching at the raw pain etched on her face. "Your husband," he continued. 

Finally, his eyes rested on Jace and Luke, a flicker of pride shining through his weariness. "And your grandsire," he finished, his voice thick with emotion. "Who may not, it seems... walk for much longer among you." 

He sighed, tossing his heavy golden mask onto the table with a resounding thud. "Let us no longer hold ill feelings in our hearts. The crown cannot stand strong if the House of the Dragon is divided. Set aside your grievances," he pleaded, slamming his staff against the ground for emphasis. "If not for the sake of the crown... then for the sake of this old man who loves you all so dearly."    

His voice trembled, and I felt a lump form in my throat. He struggled back into his chair, aided by my mother, who gently replaced his mask. 

Rhaenyra rose, her cup raised in a gesture of reconciliation. Her voice, clear and steady, cut through the heavy silence. "I wish to raise my cup to Her Grace, the Queen. I love my father. But I admit that no one has stood... more loyally by his side than his good wife." 

Her words hung in the air, a challenge and an olive branch. The room held its breath, waiting to see if this fragile peace would hold or shatter into a thousand pieces. 

My mother's gaze locked with Rhaenyra's, a complex tapestry of emotions flitting across her face. Regret, love, and a lingering trace of resentment warred within her, each sentiment as palpable as the next. "She has tended to him with unfailing devotion, love, and honor," she admitted, her voice thick with conflicting emotions. "And for that, she has my gratitude and my apology." 

I stared at my mother in disbelief, my head tilted in bewilderment. Her words, laced with a genuine remorse, resonated through the tense silence. It seemed that even she, the architect of so much discord, was capable of acknowledging the truth. 

My mother visibly wrestled with her emotions, her face a canvas of inner turmoil. Finally, she rose, her gaze unwavering. "Your graciousness moves me deeply, Princess," she said, her voice steady. "We are both mothers, and we love our children. We have more in common than we sometimes allow." 

My jaw slackened. Was this a turning point, a glimmer of hope amidst the darkness? 

"I raise my cup to you and to your house," my mother continued, her eyes meeting Rhaenyra's. A pregnant pause hung in the air before she delivered the final blow. "You will make a fine queen." 

The tension in the room dissipated slightly, replaced by a cautious optimism. Even Rhaenyra, ever guarded, allowed a flicker of a smile to grace her lips. We all raised our goblets, the rich red wine flowing freely, its warmth a temporary balm for our weary souls. 

Aegon, beside me, drained his glass and rose, weaving his way between Baela and Jace to reach for the carafe. I watched with disinterest as he refilled his goblet, exchanging words with Baela. 

Suddenly, Jace slammed his fist on the table, the sharp sound jolting me from my reverie. Aegon returned to his seat, a flicker of annoyance crossing his features. All eyes were on Jacerys, as he stood there with hardened eyes and a set jaw. Aemond rose from the table, his one eye set on Jace. I looked over at Aegon for an explanation and he shrugged unhelpfully. Jace stood there for a moment, his smile strained and forced, then he playfully punched Aegon's shoulder. 

"To Prince Aegon and Prince Aemond," he announced, his discomfort evident. "We have not seen each other in years, but I have fond memories of our shared youth. And as men, I hope we may yet be friends and allies. To you and your families' good health, dear uncles."    

He raised his glass, his gaze fixed on Aegon. My brother, his plans seemingly thwarted, offered a stiff smile in return. "To you as well," he replied, his voice carefully neutral. 

Aemond, clearly disappointed by the lack of confrontation, slumped back in his chair, a petulant scowl marring his features. 

"Beware the beast beneath the boards," Helaena murmured beside me, her voice laced with a cryptic warning. I glanced at her, her eyes distant and unfocused. A shiver ran down my spine. 

Then, to my horror, she stood, her goblet raised. "I would like to toast to Baela and Rhaena," she announced, her voice echoing through the hall. "As well as my younger sister, Clemyncia. They'll all be married soon." 

Her eyes flicked to mine, her words carrying a weight that seemed intended only for me. "It isn't so bad," she continued, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "Mostly he'll ignore you. Except sometimes when he's drunk." 

I felt my cheeks flush with embarrassment as Aegon groaned, burying his face in his hands. The room erupted in laughter, the tension momentarily broken. Helaena, seemingly oblivious to the awkwardness she'd caused, swayed slightly, her eyes glazed with a drunken haze. I gently guided her back into her seat, avoiding Aegon's furious glare. 

"Let us have some music," my father's voice, weak but insistent, cut through the merriment. A ballad filled the room, its melancholic melody a stark contrast to the forced gaiety of the evening. I closed my eyes, the music washing over me, a bittersweet reminder of the fragility of this newfound peace. 

I twirled the empty goblet in my hands, my gaze drawn to the dried blood encrusted beneath my nails. The forced merriment around me felt like a cruel mockery, a suffocating performance I longed to escape. A surge of rebellion coursed through my veins, a primal urge to shatter the facade, to unleash the chaos that simmered beneath my carefully constructed composure. 

A gentle tap on my shoulder startled me from my dark reverie. I turned to find Jacaerys standing beside me, his hand outstretched, a hopeful smile gracing his lips. I hesitated, my eyes flicking between his hand and his face, before reluctantly rising from my seat. Aegon's gaze burned into my back as I followed Jacaerys to the cleared space behind the table, a mixture of anger and possessiveness swirling in his eyes. 

"Do you know a pavane?" Jacaerys's voice was hushed, barely audible above the din of the hall. 

I shook my head, my lips forming a silent 'no'. 

"Just follow my lead then," he whispered, a mischievous glint in his eyes. 

And then we danced. We danced as we had as children, our movements carefree and uninhibited, our laughter echoing through the hall. For a stolen moment, I allowed myself to shed the weight of my royal burdens, to revel in the simple joy of the dance. I felt Aegon's eyes on us, his anger a palpable force, but I refused to let it dampen my spirits. 

As the dance slowed, our hands intertwined, our bodies moving in graceful synchronicity. I caught Aegon's eye, his expression a mask of barely contained fury. I quickly averted my gaze, focusing on Jacaerys as he raised our joined hands above our heads, our bodies close, our breaths mingling. 

The spell was broken as my father, his pain evident, was carried out of the hall by his guards. Jacaerys and I disentangled, our moment of carefree abandon abruptly ending. He lingered by my side, his gaze following my father's retreating figure with a mixture of concern and pity. 

The aroma of roasted meat drew my attention back to the table. A servant, bearing a platter laden with a suckling pig, made his way around the room. To my horror, he placed it directly in front of Aemond. My mind flashed back to the cruel prank our nephews had played on him years ago, presenting him with a piglet instead of a dragon. A nervous laugh escaped my lips. 

Lucerys, seated beside Aemond, noticed my reaction. A smirk played on his lips as Aemond, predictably enraged, slammed his fist on the table, silencing the musicians. 

"A final tribute," he declared, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "To the health of my nephews." 

He raised his glass, his eyes cold and calculating. "Jace... Luke... and Joffrey. Each of them handsome, wise, hm..." He paused, drawing out the suspense. "Strong." 

"Aemond," my mother hissed, her disapproval evident. But he continued, his words a thinly veiled insult to the legitimacy of Rhaenyra's sons. I felt Jacaerys tense beside me, his anger palpable. 

"Come, let us drain our cups to these three... strong boys." 

Aegon, ever the instigator, raised his glass, his eyes locked with Jacaerys in a silent challenge. 

"I dare you to say that again," Jacaerys growled, his voice low and menacing. 

Aemond feigned innocence. "Why? 'Twas only a compliment." 

He sauntered towards Jacaerys, his smirk widening. "Do you not think yourself strong?" 

The room exploded into chaos. Jacaerys lunged at Aemond, his fist connecting with his jaw. Luke, quick to defend his brother, charged forward, but Aegon intercepted him, pinning him to the table with a vice-like grip. 

"Jace! Luke!" Rhaenyra's voice cut through the pandemonium, her fury barely contained. 

"That is enough!" my mother shrieked, her words a desperate plea for order. Helaena, sensing my distress, reached for my arm, her touch surprisingly comforting. 

Aemond, unfazed by the punch, shoved Jacaerys to the floor. He landed near our feet, his eyes blazing with rage. Guards intervened, restraining him before he could retaliate. Luke, struggling in Aegon's grasp, hissed and spat, his young face contorted in a mask of fury. 

My mother berated Aemond, but he merely shrugged, a smug smile playing on his lips. "I was merely expressing how proud I am of my family, Mother," he retorted, his gaze returning to his nephews. "Though it seems my nephews aren't quite as proud of theirs." 

The situation threatened to escalate further as Jacaerys broke free from the guards. But before he could reach Aemond, Daemon stepped between them, his hand raised in a gesture of restraint. 

"Wait, wait!" he commanded, his voice firm. 

"Go to your quarters," Rhaenyra ordered, her voice laced with authority. "All of you, now." 

Daemon turned to Aemond, his eyes cold and menacing. Aemond, sensing the danger, reluctantly obeyed, his smirk fading as he retreated from the hall. My mother rushed to Rhaenyra's side, offering words of comfort. 

Helaena, with a dismissive wave, sent me on my way, her attention clearly elsewhere. I turned, my path diverging from hers as she headed towards the chambers she shared with Aemond. 

Alone, I trudged back to my own rooms, the weight of the evening pressing down on me like a physical burden. My fingers absently tugged at the braids that adorned my hair, a nervous tic born of frustration and anxiety. A sharp pain shot through my scalp as I pulled too hard, and I hissed in annoyance. 

I pushed open the heavy doors to my chambers, my foot instinctively kicking them closed behind me. The familiar scent of beeswax and lavender, a comforting constant in my life, did little to soothe the turmoil within me. I closed my eyes, my fingers working to unravel the intricate braids. 

But another scent, subtle yet unmistakable, cut through the calming aromas. It took a moment for my senses to identify it, and when they did, a chill ran down my spine. 

Arbor red.  

Wine. 

My eyes snapped open, and there he was, sprawled across my bed, a goblet of the crimson liquid in his hand. Aegon's lips curled into a cruel smirk as he caught my gaze, his eyes glinting with a predatory amusement. 

"Hello, sister," he purred, his voice a silken threat. 

My hands stilled, the braid half-undone. "You can't be in here, Aegon," I said, my voice surprisingly steady despite the fear that clawed at my throat. 

He tilted his head, a mocking laugh escaping his lips. "Can't I?" 

He rose from the bed, his movements languid yet purposeful. I instinctively took a step back, but he continued his advance, closing the distance between us with an unsettling grace. He reached for my hair, his fingers gently taking over the task of unbraiding it. His breath tickled my neck, sending a shiver down my spine. 

"We are to be married within the week," he murmured, his voice a seductive whisper. "It is not as if your virtue is in question." 

His touch was surprisingly gentle, but it carried an undercurrent of danger, like a serpent coiling around its prey. I stood frozen, trapped between fear and a morbid curiosity. 

"It is improper, brother," I said, my voice tight, wincing as he tugged a bit too forcefully at a stubborn knot in my hair. The pungent aroma of wine clung to him, a testament to his inebriated state. He chuckled, his breath hot against my neck as he finished unbraiding my hair, his fingertips trailing down the sensitive skin, leaving a trail of gooseflesh in their wake. I stepped forward, putting some distance between us, and turned to face him. 

"Not a soul will question what I do with you," he declared with a drunken wave of his hand, his arrogance as palpable as his intoxication. I crossed my arms defensively, my eyes widening in alarm. Why was he here? Did he intend to...? The thought sent a shiver of fear down my spine. He seemed to sense my apprehension, and his laughter boomed through the room, a harsh, discordant sound. 

"Calm yourself, I'm not here to force you," he said, as if the whole situation were a hilarious jest. I shook my head, my anger rising. 

"Then why are you here, brother?" I demanded, my voice laced with a newfound defiance. "Have the brothels barred your entry? Or has mother forbidden you?" The words tumbled out before I could stop them, fueled by a reckless impulse to provoke him, to shatter his smug facade. 

But his reaction was swift and brutal. In an instant, he was upon me, his long fingers encircling my throat, his grip tightening with each passing second. 

"Watch your tongue, girl," he growled, his voice low and menacing. His fingers flexed against the delicate skin of my neck, cutting off my air supply. I froze, my eyes wide with terror, my hands instinctively reaching for his wrists. 

He tilted his head, his face inches from mine. "What did the bastard say to you?" he hissed, his breath reeking of wine. "What is he plotting?" 

Confusion warred with fear. "Who?" I managed to rasp, my voice barely a whisper. 

"The one you were dancing with like a lovesick fool," he snarled, his grip tightening further. "What does he want with you?" 

I blinked, my mind racing. "Nothing," I stammered, struggling to breathe. "He asked me about dances, so I wouldn't be embarrassed. He spoke of nothing else, Aegon." 

His eyes narrowed, a possessive fury burning within them. His fingers flexed again, a silent threat that sent a wave of panic through me. I felt lightheaded, my vision blurring at the edges. 

And then his grip loosened, but the terror didn't abate. He drew my face impossibly close, our breaths mingling, the warmth of his skin a stark contrast to the icy dread that gripped my heart. I could see every detail of his face – the flecks of gold in his lilac eyes, mirroring the ones in my own, the individual lashes framing his gaze. His thumb rested on the pulse point at my throat, a subtle reminder of his power, of my vulnerability. I inhaled sharply, the air rushing into my lungs, and he smirked, a cruel, triumphant expression that twisted his handsome features. 

"He cannot have you," he slurred, his words heavy with a possessive fury. I nodded frantically, desperate to appease him, to escape this terrifying intimacy. 

"Aegon—" I began, but he cut me off, leaning even closer, his lips brushing against mine as he spoke. 

"I despise you, you know that?" His voice was a venomous whisper, each word a poisoned dart. "I have always hated you." 

I tried to pull away, but his grip on my throat, though no longer choking, held me captive. His proximity was suffocating, his presence a toxic cloud that threatened to consume me. 

"You are venom, just like our mother," he hissed, his nose brushing against mine. 

"Please, Aegon—" I pleaded, my voice a strangled whisper. 

He closed his eyes, inhaling deeply, savoring my fear. "It is fitting that you are her mirror image," he murmured, his voice laced with a perverse satisfaction. "A pretty little viper." 

His words stung, a cruel echo of the insults I'd endured my entire life. I was trapped, not just physically, but emotionally, ensnared in a web of familial dysfunction and resentment. The darkness that had always lurked beneath the surface of our gilded world threatened to engulf me, and I was powerless to resist. 

"I am not our mother," I managed to choke out, my voice a desperate plea for recognition, for separation from the toxic legacy he sought to impose on me. 

But my words only fueled his twisted amusement. He chuckled, a low, guttural sound that sent shivers down my spine. His eyes, devoid of their usual charm, held a glint of cruel satisfaction. 

"No," he agreed, his lips brushing against mine once more, a tantalizing torture. "You are so much sweeter." His voice dripped with a mocking sweetness that turned my stomach. "Which is almost worse." 

I struggled against him, my desperation growing with each passing moment. "Aegon, please, let me go," I begged, my voice barely a whisper. 

He held my gaze, his eyes boring into mine, a silent battle of wills playing out in the suffocating intimacy of our proximity. His lips remained pressed against mine, a mockery of affection, a cruel reminder of my powerlessness. 

Then, with a sigh that seemed to release a lifetime of pent-up resentment, he pushed me away. My body stumbled backward, my hands grasping for purchase on the edge of my writing desk. I stood there, panting, my heart thundering in my chest. 

"For now, sweet sister," he said, his voice a chilling caress. "For now." 

With a final, cruel smirk, he turned and swept out of the room, leaving me alone in the aftermath of his disturbing intrusion. The half-empty goblet of wine, abandoned on my table, served as a bitter reminder of his presence, its lingering scent a mockery of the sanctuary I once found within my chambers. 

I sank to the floor, my legs trembling beneath me. The darkness that had always danced at the edges of my life now threatened to consume me entirely. I was trapped, not just by Aegon's twisted desires, but by the suffocating expectations of my birthright, by the relentless machinations of a court steeped in blood and betrayal.