#the first time I read it I looked at my cousin and went ‘YOU WILL NOT BELIEVE WHAT THIS BOOK JUST SAID…’

[luci-in-trenchcoats]

Barlen

Summary: The reader is visiting Beau's family for Christmas for the first time...

Pairing: Beau x reader

Word Count: 2,200ish

Warnings: language

A/N: This is a little continuation of Bad Day but it's not necessary to have read that prior to understand this fic. Happy Holidays everyone!

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Beau tugged nervously at the collar of his thick burgundy cable knit sweater across the room. Even from a distance, you could see the flush of his cheeks as he was spoken at by his uncle.

“Uncle Cal was talking shit about you coming, you know.” You turned to the left, Emily standing there in a quiet corner of the kitchen sipping on a small glass of white wine. She must have misunderstood your staring because she was quickly shaking her head. “Dad totally said I could have a little cause it’s Christmas-”

“I don’t care if you have some wine, Emily. What exactly do you mean Cal was talking shit about me?” She faked a wave over to Beau when he tried to urge her over, using exaggerated hand gestures likes she was caught up in a deep conversation with you. “Leaving your father to fend for himself, hm?”

“Yup. Last time I talked to Cal at Thanksgiving he was riding my ass about not having enough extra curiculars for college. Or a boyfriend. And for liking you.” 

“Sounds like a dick,” you said, Emily smirking as you took a long drag of your beer. “Beau warned me he’s the family busybody.”

“Yeah but like,” she said, reaching behind you and grabbing a sugar cookie off a tray, “He really doesn’t like you. Rory, that’s my freakishly tall cousin that’s at his girlfriends, well Cal is his dad’s dad and Rory said his grandpa was calling you a slut on Facebook cause he thinks you broke up my mom and dad which is so not true but…yeah, that’s the boomer mentality you’re dealing with. Oh, plus he hates you for being younger than dad so there’s that too.”

“I’m thirty four years old, not a child,” you grumbled, hiding the desire to shoot Cal a dirty look. Emily saw through it though, munching on her cookie with big brown eyes. “Em, you don’t think I’m too young for your father do you? Or-”

“Um, you can stop right there.” She caught your hesitation and rolled her eyes. “You’re both adults and I know you and dad were just friends when my parents were together. Shit, you used to babysit me.”

“I know but I wouldn’t blame you if you thought…” She threw her head back, muttering a curse under her breath. “I’m sure Cal isn’t the only member of your family that’s been hesitant of me.”

“They like you a hell of a lot more than mom.” You blinked, furrowing your brows. “Come on, Y//N. She left dad at his low. No one bats an eye at your age except for the dinosaur over there and trust me, I know dad wasn’t looking at you like that until way after my parents divorced. It wasn’t until after everything with the camp and Avery and you were taking care of me here and you went up to Montana for work that you guys were together.” 

You reached back and took your own cookie, chewing on it slowly. “Well…it made your dad feel better to have someone checking in on you and your mom while he was in Montana figuring out what to do.”

“And then he went on leave for three months to move back here for a bit and suddenly you were moving up to work for him when he went back.”

“You moved back there too if I recall,” you said, Emily smiling at you. “What?”

“I’m just saying, dad is…not the most emotionally available man…but he’s getting there and I know it’s because you have that something my mom doesn’t. So if Cal gives you shit, I got your back.”

“Oh, Emily, you’re as protective as your father,” said an older woman with graying hair and a gentle smile. “I already told Cal to leave Beau alone or I’d make good on that promise I made when I was thirteen.”

You looked between them, Emily smirking. “Cal teased Grandma about a boy she was dating, like relentlessly, and one day she said-”

“I’d bust his balls with a bat if he ever spoke that way about someone I cared about again,” she said, giving Cal a look across the room that could kill. “Especially when it comes to one of my boys and their wives.”

You choked on the beer in your mouth, Beau’s mom smacking you on the back as you coughed violently.

“Arms up, dear, there you go,” she said as you raised them, still coughing as she hit you harder than any woman in her seventies had any right to. You took a deep breath and lowered your arms, rubbing your chest as you caught your breath. “Emily, be a dear and go rescue your father from Cal. Tell him I need his help in the kitchen.”

“But then I’ll get stuck talking to him,” she whined.

“Well…call him a boomer and start talking about tik tok and he’ll just get confused and go have a smoke outside.” Emily sighed but went off across to the far side of the house, Beau’s mom wearing that same mischievous grin you caught on his face and Emily’s. “Don’t get me wrong. I love my big brother but he can be a bit of a dickhead. Beau’s too kind of a soul to tell his uncle to go fuck a cactus.”

You smiled, her arm looping through yours. “I hope I didn’t scare you with that wife comment.”

“No, not at all,” you said, his mom eyeing you up and down with a hum. “Beau and I have only been dating-”

“My boy was broken,” she said as you caught Emily reluctantly join her father and Cal over in the corner. You gave Beau’s mother your attention, her face softening. “And then he broke more and when he started to heal, Emily getting hurt broke him even more and you know him, he hides these things so well. Now…that boy over there is forty six years old and he talks about you like he’s fourteen and has his first crush. He healed the right way with you so you two kids, you do whatever you want to and I’ll deal with Cal, got it?”

“Yes, mam,” you said as Beau approached, heaving a sigh of relief.

“Thank you,” he breathed out, his mom slipping away with a smile. “I thought you needed help?”

“Heaven’s knows why’d you’d think that, Beau,” she said, humming as she skirted out of the kitchen and off to the family room. Beau looked back at you, tilting his head with an adorable confused look to his green eyes. 

“Your mom simply orchestrated an undercover op to get Emily to rescue you. Apparently I’m not as scary as your mom when I ask her to do such things,” you said, Beau smiling.

“Ah, well, she’s got grandma superpowers. You’re just a little detective. So not scary.”

“So not scary,” you said, Beau taking the beer from your hand and taking a sip, interlacing your fingers in the other. You let him lead you to the front of the house where you slipped on your boots and light jacket, Beau popping his feet into his dark brown leather cowboy ones. He opened the front door with a few fingers, tugging you out to his parent’s front porch on the outskirts of Houston.

“I’m sorry I keep leaving you alone in there to fend for yourself,” he said, leaning against the railing, passing the beer bottle back to you.

“Hey, we live in Montana. Your family misses you. I don’t mind sharing.” He smiled, looking out at the dark field across the street. You ducked under his arm, Beau wrapping his own over your shoulders, briefly kissing your temple. His sweater was soft against your cheek, his sharp inhale of your perfume making you wrap your arms around his waist and turn into his side.

“S’funny. This place doesn’t feel like home anymore.” You glanced up at him, Beau smirking and brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. He’d done that move a hundred times over but your breath was catching in your throat tonight as he grasped your chin, bringing your lips to his. He kissed you slowly, gently, like he had all the time in the world to devour you.

“You can’t just short circuit my brain like that you know,” you mumbled, Beau laughing against the column of your neck.

“But it’s one of my favorite things to do.” He peppered kisses up and down your jaw, playing your like a instrument he knew better than the back of his hand. You bit your bottom lip when he ghosted over your ear, hot breath fanning your skin. “Close your eyes, darlin’.”

“Beau, your parents are literally on the other side of that door,” you said as he chuckled. 

“Trust me.” Slowly you lids fluttered shut, Beau’s warmth leaving you. The deck boards creaked although you felt his presence, and smelled his pine and musky cologne, nearby. “Keep em’ closed.”

“Alright, alright,” you murmured before he was kissing you again. “Barlen…”

“I love when you call me that,” he whispered, touching his forehead to yours. There was an undercurrent of tension in his voice, your lips parting. “Did you know I never asked Carla to marry me? She just told me it was happening and I was okay with that because it was all part of her plan and I loved her. And now…I know we’ve talked about the somedays but…”

“Are you scared I’ll hurt you?” you asked quietly, his head nodding once. “Why?”

“You’re so young and beautiful, darlin’. You have no clue. A family with me…you won’t have a normal-”

“Beau. You’re forty six, you’re ripped and so not old. I will never not want you and we could both die tomorrow so do what I always tell you. Relax and trust me.”

“Last chance to change your mind.” You shook your head, tilting your chin up in search of his lips. He met them, cupping your cheek as he took you in. “Open your eyes.”

When you peeled them open, Beau knelt down holding a square black velvet box in his hands.

“Will you-”

“Yes, Barlen,” you grinned, Beau chuckling. 

“Not even gonna let me ask?” 

“I’m excited, sue me,” you said, Beau raising to his feet and opening the box, shaking his head at you as he slid a ring on your finger.

“Want to get married?” You eagerly nodded your head. “Even if you have to deal with Cal?”

“I’m a detective, babe. I can handle a seventy eight year old stuck in the past,” you said, Beau wrapping you up in his arms and hosting you up. “Careful old man. Wouldn’t want you to throw a hip.”

“Eh, watch it troublemaker,” he teased, nipping at your jaw. Your legs went around his waist, Beau setting you down on top of the railing but not releasing you. “So. How long have you known I was planning to ask?”

“Questioning my investigative skills?” you hummed, Beau eyeing you up and down. “I’ve suspected since the fall when we had that kids talk. But I knew for sure when your mom slipped the beans and called me your wife in the kitchen.”

He muttered a curse under his breath, those big green eyes watching you with curiosity. “So you knew what I was doing when we came out here.”

“Most likely,” you said, running a hand over his head, brushing a stray strand that’d fallen over his forehead. “S’okay you got nervous. You’re getting better at the talking thing, you know.”

“What did I do to deserve you?” he said softly.

“Well you are a good kisser, Mr. Barlen.”

“As are you future Mrs. Barlen,” he teased, laughing when a giggle left your lips. “Doesn’t have the same ring to it.”

“Barlen, darlin’,” you said, Beau grinning wide. “See, we’re all set.”

You both jumped when the front door burst open, Emily standing there with an exhausted sigh, staring at her father. She raised her eyebrows, Beau rolling his eyes. “Yes, she said yes, little Ms. Impatient.”

“Thank god. He’s been this close to a coronary all day,” she said, turning to go back inside. “Grandma says we can’t open presents until you get your chicken shit ass in gear and ask so can we go do that now?”

“Welcome to motherhood,” said Beau, shaking his head at her. “We’ll join in a minute.”

Emily left, leaving you to smile up at Beau. “Wow. I never knew your mom had such a potty mouth. She’s always been so sweet.”

“Oh, she can swear like a sailor all she wants but heaven forbid I cuss in front of her.”

“I think it’s a mom thing, hun,” you said, Beau rolling his eyes when you heard knocking at the window. “We better get back in there before the whole family is ragging on you.”

“They can wait,” he said, holding you close to his chest. “Right now, the only present I want is you, darlin.”

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[daily-all-for-the-game]

"Why does Roland think you're tying me down?"

[maidragoste]

The Decision

Daemon Targaryen x Velaryon!Reader, minor Harwin Strong x Velaryon!Reader, Rhaenyra Targaryen x Velaryon!Reader

Again another AU with the reader of The Sea Dragon, The Clubfoot and The Green Queen (you don't need to read it to understand this one shot because this story starts LONG BEFORE the canon of that universe).

Summary: When King Viserys announces that he plans to marry you, you make a decision to avoid becoming the king's wife.

Now you can read this bonus!

TW: This is NSFW (if you don't like it you can read only the Rhaenyra and Harwin parts)

I was dying to share this with all of you so I hope you like it!

If you want to read more of this Reader and Daemon, don't hesitate to let me know in the comments or in my inbox 🤭

REBLOGS, comments and likes are always greatly appreciated 🥰🥰💖💖

Disclaimer: English is not my first language so I apologize for any mistakes. Also this is my first smut so sorry if it's weird to read.

You felt your heart hammering as you waited for the king to make his announcement. Your stomach wouldn't stop spinning and you have no idea how you still hadn't vomited up what you had for breakfast.

With every passing second you have to keep yourself from running out of the council chambers. You couldn't stop looking at your father, a part of you wanted to take his hand and ask him to get you out of here but you didn't trust him anymore. You were in this situation because of him. You always knew that your father is a proud and ambitious man but you never thought that his ambition would be greater than his love for you. If your father really loved you he wouldn't have sent you to the king's chambers. He wouldn't have made you start wearing dresses that showed more skin for your visits with him. Gods, you wanted to hit your father so badly, you wanted to wipe the smile off his face because both he and you knew what Viserys was going to announce. Everyone knew it, you noticed that Otto Hightower was trying to hide his annoyance from everyone, the only one who seemed unaware of the tension in the room was Rhaenyra.

“I have decided to take a new wife,” the king began and you noticed how he and Rhaenyra exchanged a look. You were surprised to see your cousin nod as if she was permitting him to move on. Did Rhaenyra know? Did she approve of this? “I intend to get married,” he continued, this time looking at you and your father. You forced a smile as you dug your nails into your palms, feeling helpless for being in this situation “with Lady Y/N Velaryon before spring.”

Your eyes met Rhaenyra's purple ones. There was none of the love or fun you usually saw. Now she was looking at you with a mixture of pain and fury. The pain in your stomach got worse. Nyra had never looked at you like that. This shouldn't be happening.

It was obvious that she didn't know that her father was planning to marry you. You wanted to scream, you wanted to hug her and tell her that this wasn't what you wanted, that you weren't trying to steal her mother's place, that you would never do anything to hurt her.

"Rhaenyra" the king called her but the princess left the chambers anyway. You couldn't take this anymore so you went after her, ignoring your father's calls.

You followed the princess. You could feel the fabric of your dress sticking together due to perspiration, you didn't know if it was because of your nerves or because you were practically almost running after Rhaenyra. It was uncomfortable but right now you didn't care. You needed to clear things up with her. You couldn't stand that she hated you.

"Nyra" you called when she finally stopped. You two were in the gardens, in front of the heart tree. Where more than once you had Rhaenyra lay with her head in your lap while you sang her any song she wanted. Where you two used to stay out in the sun complaining about the septa's lessons while you combed her hair. This tree has so many good memories and now you fear there will be no more.

"How could you?!" she yelled at you furiously. She couldn't believe how you had been by her side, comforting her, accompanying her in her grief, remembering the stories the both shared with her mother so that later you went behind her back to conquer her father. When her father told her that he needed to take another wife she thought it would be Laena Velaryon. Not from you. Never from you. You were supposed to be hers.

"Please, Nyra, don't hate me" you begged and grabbed her hands desperately, pulling her closer to you "I swear I didn't want this but my father" you shook your head and forced yourself to continue talking trying to ignore the knot in your throat "I'll find a way to fix this, I promise" you kissed her hands.

The princess studied you for a few minutes. She needed to check that you weren't faking this just to avoid her anger. Your eyes seemed to be glazed over from the tears you were holding back and your hands clung to her desperately.

“I believe you,” she finally said and you sighed in relief.

"Thank you", you said with a shaking voice

This time it was Rhaenyra who kissed your hands and rested her forehead against yours. You closed your eyes feeling at peace for a moment knowing that she didn't hate you.

"I won't marry your father, Nyra. I promise."

If it weren't for the fact that she was now the heir to the throne, Rhaenyra would have told you that you would run away with her, that the two of you would go together on your dragons and travel the world together, and that you didn't need a husband, that if you wanted her, she would take you as a wife. But now she had obligations, she couldn't abandon everything for you even if her heart screamed for her to do so.

After clearing things up with Rhaenyra you went to your chambers. Of course, your father was waiting for you, he scolded you for your abrupt departure but he left you alone once you told him that you had managed to calm the princess's annoyance. Being alone you decided to put your plan into action, first you took a bath with the purpose of relaxing and getting rid of any trace of nerves you had before, then you put on one of your simplest dresses and placed a hooded cape on top to hide your hair. You were leaving the castle and you didn't need anyone to follow you.

You successfully slipped away and headed out into the streets in search of Harwin. You knew that today he had to stand guard on the streets of Flea Bottom. A girl in your position shouldn't be here but you didn't care. You needed to talk to him as soon as possible.

“Harwin” you called him when you finally found him.

“Lady Velaryon, you should not be here,” said the guard, gently hugging you by the shoulders and taking you to a corner further away from the people.

It felt bad to hear him call you in such a formal way when for weeks he had been calling you by your name or “sunshine”, the nickname he had given you. You remember like it was yesterday when you kissed him for the first time after he explained to you that the reason he called you that was because you brightened his days every time he saw you.

This sudden formality was like a slap in the face and he confirmed what you already feared.

“You know,” you declared sadly.

“My father told me,” he admitted, releasing you. You weren't surprised since Lyonel is on the council and had been present at this morning's meeting. You suspected that Harwin's father thought it would be best for him to find out from him rather than from someone else since you were sure that Lord Strong and your parents knew about the meetings between you and Harwin. You thought it was no secret that he was courting you, but apparently, not everyone knew because otherwise, Viserys would not have chosen you as his wife. Or maybe he knew but didn't care.

“This doesn't have to change what's between us,” you said as you stood on tiptoe to have his face closer to yours. “I don't want to marry the king. I want you” you whispered against his lips but without touching them. Harwin had to control himself from closing the small distance between you and kissing you. “Make me your wife,” you asked before capturing his lips with yours.

You froze when Harwin walked away from you.

“I can't,” he whispered and closed his eyes to avoid seeing the disappointment on your face.

“I thought you loved me” In your voice there was more anger than sadness but your body language was different, you found yourself hugging yourself trying to comfort yourself. You were disappointed.

“I do,” he stated firmly, opening his eyes so you could see that he spoke sincerely. “I love you. If it were any other man he would fight for you but…”

His silence told you everything. He loved you but it's not enough to face the king.

“You're a coward,” you spat and left the way you came.

You didn't really think Harwin was a coward but you were hurt by his rejection. You felt stupid to believe that whatever Harwin felt for you would be bigger than any coherent thought but you can't blame him after all any intelligent person would be afraid to go against the king's wishes and steal his fiancée…

But all was not lost, you knew someone well who was not afraid of Viserys and could help you. It was a desperate move and your parents would think you were an idiot for this but you refuse to be the king's wife. You had seen how as the years went by and with each pregnancy, Queen Aemma deteriorated. You didn't want the same thing.

You wrote to Daemon. You told him that the king wanted to marry you but that you were seeking to avoid this marriage and that you needed his help. You waited anxiously for his response while you had to feign excitement every time someone talked about your wedding preparations. Luckily it didn't take that long for a crow to arrive with the rogue prince's answer. There were no reassuring words in his letter, the only thing the scroll said was "Come to Dragonstone."

And that's what you did. Nobody suspected when the next day you went on the back of your dragon since everyone knew that there was not a day in which you did not disappear for a couple of hours to go flying with Nightwing.

"My prince, Lady Y/N Velaryon!" The guard announced your arrival before letting you enter the chambers where the prince was staying.

Daemon, who had seen you approach with Nightwing from the window, had his back turned but turned to look at you. He hasn't seen you in months. Your hair was longer and you seemed to have changed the way you dressed. The blue dress you were wearing seemed to have more cleavage, it wasn't anything scandalous enough for the court to talk about but it did draw attention.

"It's good to see you, Y/n" Daemon stated making you smile. You were sure that this was the first sincere smile you had given in days.

You waited for the guard to leave. Once you heard the sound of the door closing, you began to walk towards the prince without haste, trying to show as much confidence as possible. Normally you wouldn't be nervous around Daemon but you hadn't seen him in months and he was the only person who could help you. You didn't want to ruin this.

*I'm wondering the same. These months without you were boring "You weren't lying or trying to sugarcoat it to achieve your goal, it was simply the truth. Every time he leaves court you wish for his return.

"You still didn't come after me" Daemon held back his smile when he saw the surprise in your eyes.

He liked seeing that look in your eyes. Every time he brings you something new from his travels, every time he teaches you a new move in the training yard, every time he asks you for his favor in tournaments. How he had missed seeing you. He wouldn't tell you but he had missed you these past few months. So imagine his fury when after so long the first news he receives from you is that his brother plans to marry you. You are too much of a woman for Viserys. His brother wouldn't know what to do with you. You would spend the rest of your life bored. Daemon couldn't allow it.

"I didn't know you wanted that," you said, snapping him out of his thoughts.

"I invited you to go with me on my next trip, didn't I?"

Before Queen Aemma's death, when you helped Daemon put on his armor for the tournament you complained about the lengthening of his travels. The prince's response was to invite you to go with him next time. You were so excited to accompany him on his trips that you didn't wait for the tournament to end to ask your parents for permission. But then Aemma died and you didn't dare leave Rhaenyra.

You laughed. “That wasn't a trip, Daemon. Viserys exiled you.”

"And now he will exile you" he mocked, making you irritated but you quickly forgot about your irritation when Daemon placed his hands on your waist and pulled you closer to him, leaving your bodies pressed together. You should be uncomfortable with this but you're not. "You understand? Right? You know what you were asking for when you asked me for help?" He asked, studying your reaction. He needed to see that you really understood what you were about to do. This was your time to repent. But he didn't find uncertainty in your eyes if not desire, you looked at him with pure desire.

"I know," you responded, trying to ignore the flutter of emotion you felt at the intensity of the prince's gaze. You should be against doing this after all your reputation would be ruined but deep down you always wanted to have even a little bit of Daemon.

In reality, there was always a tension between the two of you. More than once you two ended your fights in the yard more irritated than you were before you started because after so much friction, touching, and sweat you both wanted to do something else that you couldn't. You didn't want to be the other woman and Daemon for once wanted to make things right with you. He hoped that one day Viserys would annul his marriage to Rhea Royce to take you as his wife. That day never came but that didn't matter anymore.

"You will take me as your second wife" While you spoke your eyes couldn't help but stop a couple of times on his lips.

Daemon tilted his head a little and gently brushed aside a strand of hair to whisper in your ear "I'll do it. If you want that" you shivered as you suddenly felt his breath on your neck. It doesn't take long for you to feel his warm lips against your skin. You unconsciously stretched your neck, leaving him free to continue spreading more kisses. With each kiss, you felt your body warmer. You can't help but wonder how his lips will feel just as good on another part of your body. “People will talk about us,” he warned, snapping you out of your fantasy.

You knew what Daemon was referring to, not only would it be a scandal if the king's fiancée married another but also if that other is Daemon Targaryen, the king's brother, and an already married man. People who don't understand his family's customs won't think your marriage is legitimate, and if you were to have children with him people would probably think of them as bastards. Also, the court could compare your marriage to one of Maegor Targaryen's many marriages. The kingdom would talk a lot about you two, even your family's name and respect could be damaged by this. Your father might never want to speak to you again in your life and your mother would be disappointed in you. You had thought about all this at night before receiving the prince's response. And yet you were determined to go ahead with this.

“Are you worried that the court will call you Second Maegor? Because I'm sorry to inform you but they already call you that” you said, managing to make Daemon laugh a little. You smiled when you heard him but your smile was soon replaced by a gasp as you felt his teeth biting into your neck.

“A wife shouldn't make fun of her husband,” he said making you roll your eyes, knowing that he wasn't serious and just wanted to mess with you. “If you marry me, this will not be just a marriage in name.”

You weren't an idiot. It wasn't enough for you to just marry Daemon. Viserys might still want to annul the marriage if he saw that you were a virgin but if it was known that Daemon had already had you then the council would tell the king that he should take another wife.

You walked away from him. “Are you afraid of taking me as your wife? You keep walking around instead of ordering them to start preparing everything for the ceremony. “The prince could see the challenge in your eyes and he loved it.” I'm not a little girl, Daemon. I know what I'm getting into by marrying you."

And those words were enough for Daemon to finally join his lips with yours. There was nothing soft about his kiss, not like Harwin's. This kiss was hungry, you felt like he was devouring your mouth but you weren't far behind either, taking him by the neck, pulling him closer to you. It seemed as if neither of you two could get enough of the other. Finally giving free rein to the desire the both felt for a long time. You felt his hands trying to untie the back of your dress so you walked away from him with heavy breathing.

“Ah, ah, ah,” you hummed, now placing your hands on his chest, hoping to keep a little more distance. “You can't have me until we're married,” you declared, looking at him mischievously.

“You're so fucking annoying” Daemon complained and tried to kiss you again but you pulled your face away with a teasing smile. "Good. But then you won't leave the room until I'm done with you,” he warned you and he gave you a little squeeze on your waist before leaving, determined to prepare everything in the shortest possible time.

Daemon thinks he'll never get tired of this. See how you move on his cock, how focused you look with every jump you take in search of your pleasure, how you open your mouth and let those sinful sounds escape when you finally find your sweet spot, and above all the feeling of your cunt squeezing his cock.

Hearing Daemon's groan overwhelms you. It overwhelms you because, for the first time, you realize that you have power over him. It's too much to hear him say your name like you're a god while you're riding him. See how hungry he is for you, how he can't seem to get enough of you, how he can't go a minute without his mouth on you, without biting or sucking on your neck, without having his hands touching you. By now your body was covered in hickeys, marks, and bruises leaving the trace of your crime on display. You're sure that tomorrow when the maids came to help you dress they would be horrified to see the mark of Daemon's palms on your thighs after he held you for what seemed like hours while he devoured your cunt over and over again.

Your husband noticed that you were starting to get tired but you still didn't want to stop, not when you were already so close to cumming again but you were too proud to ask him for help.

“Let me take care of it,” he said, stopping to suck on one of your nipples.

He knows how stubborn you are so he didn't even give you a chance to refuse when he lifted you off his cock. You groan against his neck as he pushes you down onto his cock again. He begins to move you up and down as if you weighed nothing.

"Faster" you demanded with heavy breathing, feeling dissatisfied with the pace of his movements.

Daemon doesn't hesitate to follow your orders and makes you bounce faster. His grunts and moans do nothing but send heat to your core. You feel your legs tremble at the speed and depth of his thrusts. You want to have your share and leave your marks on your husband too but you can't focus as much time on biting or sucking on his neck when he's fucking you so good. You sob when you finally feel the knot in your stomach release and you cum on his cock.

Suddenly one of his hands leaves your waist and pulls your hair, stealing a gasp from you, making you stop hiding your face in his neck and thus trap your mouth again in a messy kiss.

"You take me so well," Daemon gasped against your lips, feeling your warm cunt not stop squeezing his cock.

The sound of skin slapping only increases the temperature of the room. Like the groans and gasps. Neither Daemon nor you were trying to be quiet, it was more like you were both competing to see who could make the other louder. You should be embarrassed and try to be quieter, that's what a good lady would do but you couldn't care less what people thought, not when you felt so good. And while you felt how Daemon filled your cunt with his seed a petty part of you couldn't help but think that you were hoping that this would reach Viserys' ears, that one of the servants would write to the king to inform him of the spectacle you and Daemon were putting on so that Viserys wouldn't want to have anything more to do with you.

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[deliciousangelfestival]

He's A Killer

Summary: She’s known among her family and friends for being single, and everyone worries about her. Determined to prove them wrong, she finally makes her first move, only to discover that the person she likes is dangerous.

The second part : He's The Sweetest

Main Masterlist || If you enjoy my work, please consider buying me a coffee on Ko-fi 🙏🏻

Thank you to everyone who has read this chapter. Leave a comment and Reblog, please. I'd love to hear your thoughts. ❤️

The emergency room of St. Grace Medical Center buzzes with activity. Doctors and nurses move swiftly, handling patients with precision. Voices blur together in the chaos, and the sharp scent of antiseptic fills the air.

You're inside the medical storage room, scanning shelves for the supplies the doctor requested: syringes, tubes, and medication vials. Besides, you is Clara, your co-worker and friend, busy sorting through trays.

"I told you I had that family dinner, right?" you say, picking up a pack of syringes.

"Yeah, how was it?" Clara asks, not looking up from the tray she's organizing.

“Dreadful. Dreadful. Dreadful,” you reply, shaking your head in exasperation.

Clara glances at you, a smirk forming. "Wow, three times? That bad, huh?"

The memory flashes through your mind: Sunday, family dinner. You sit across from your aunts, who seem more interested in your love life than the meal.

"Your mom’s worried about you, you know," one of your aunts says between bites. "She didn't tell you because she's afraid of hurting your feelings," another aunt adds. "You’re already over 30; the clock is ticking." "My friend’s son works at the oil company. I could get his contact if you want. He’s a good catch."

Back in the storage room, Clara's voice breaks through your thoughts. "Well, you probably won’t like this, but your aunt’s kinda right. I mean, bestie, I’m only saying this because I care about you."

You hum, trying to keep your focus on entering patient data into the system. Clara means well, but the topic is starting to get old.

“Honey, you’re a great friend and an amazing co-worker. Everyone here relies on you because you’re so reliable. You know why?” Clara’s voice softens as she leans in. “Because you’re single. You don’t have someone waiting for you, or someone to hang out with on Saturdays and Sundays.”

You freeze for a moment, glancing up at her with raised eyebrows.

“Please, go out and talk to someone," she continues. "You've been single for way too long. You deserve some love, girl. It’s not like you need to get married right away.”

Clara shudders, as if the thought gives her chills. “No, not at all! Just, you know, make friends first?” She winks playfully before gathering a tray of supplies and heading out to assist the doctor.

Alone in the storage room, you sigh, leaning against the counter for a moment. Clara means well, but every time someone offers to introduce you to someone, it irks you. You know you’ve been single for a long time—your whole life, really—but it’s not that you don’t want a relationship.

It’s complicated.

You've seen too many relationships fall apart. Your parents, your aunts, your cousins—all their stories weigh on you. The cheating, the abuse, the constant reminders from your cousins: “Don’t get married.” It’s no wonder you’re hesitant.

But what stings the most is finding out your father, who you always thought was a devoted husband, had cheated on your mom. That betrayal shaped your fears. You don’t want to end up like her—trapped in a painful, one-sided marriage.

Part of you is scared of commitment, scared of getting hurt. But another part of you craves it—a real connection. The irony of it all is that the same aunts pushing you to settle down are stuck in abusive marriages themselves. It’s almost comedic, in a sad, twisted way.

You shake your head, pushing the thoughts aside as you gather the last of the supplies.

🐼🐼🐼🐼🐼

Working at ER felt like living in a whirlwind. You rarely went home, often staying for almost 24 hours at a time. The chaos of patients coming in with life-threatening injuries, doctors shouting orders, and the constant rush to save lives left you drained but fulfilled. When you finally had a day off, there was only one thing you looked forward to—visiting the zoo to see your favorite animal: the panda. 🐼

You’ve always had a soft spot for pandas. Something about their calm, slow movements and gentle nature soothed you. The baby panda, in particular, had become your little escape. Watching it tumble around, clumsily explore, or nibble on bamboo always brought you a sense of peace. You had its appearances memorized on your schedule since it wasn’t allowed out every day.

Today was one of those rare days off, and you made your way to the zoo, excited to see the baby panda. But when you arrived, the mood shifted. A zoo employee stood in front of the panda enclosure, addressing the crowd of disappointed families.

“Sorry folks, the panda viewing has been rescheduled. We have made an announcement on our social media last week—we worked on it all night, without sleep.”

You rolled your eyes at the comment. Without sleep? Try handling an ER at peak hours. Annoyed but resigned, you sighed and checked the next available viewing time. As the crowd started dispersing, one person caught your attention.

A tall man stood at the panda window, his broad shoulders slumped in disappointment. He sighed deeply before turning around. That’s when your eyes met. It wasn’t intentional, but the sudden connection caught you off guard. Quickly, you bowed your head and hurried away, feeling your cheeks warm from the brief moment.

The next day, you returned to the zoo, and this time, the baby panda was out. You joined the crowd, eager to see your favorite animal. The baby panda was as adorable as ever, tumbling clumsily around its habitat. You found yourself smiling, the sight of it immediately calming your busy mind. But as you glanced around, you saw him again—the tall man from yesterday. He was also watching the panda, just as captivated as the rest of the crowd.

The panda display ended too soon, and just as you were about to leave, the sky opened up and rain started pouring. The panda enclosure was far from the main entrance, and there was no shelter nearby. Luckily, you always carried an umbrella. As you received a message from the hospital calling you in for an emergency, you saw other visitors quickly opening their umbrellas and leaving one by one.

Soon, it was just you and the tall man left in the rain.

You noticed him glancing at his watch, pacing back and forth like he was debating whether to make a run for it. His indecision made you smile. He clearly wasn’t prepared for the weather. Without thinking much of it, you walked up to him, holding out your umbrella.

“Ehm,” you said, voice slightly raised over the sound of the rain. “Want to walk to the gate together?”

His eyes flicked to the umbrella in your hand before he gave you a small smile. “Thank you,” he said, stepping under it with you.

The walk was quiet, the sound of the rain drumming on the umbrella louder than any conversation you might have had. It should have felt awkward—after all, you were strangers—but the rain filled the silence. He stayed close to your side, even leaning a little toward you to make sure you weren’t getting wet. You noticed his left side was already damp, but he didn’t seem to care. Is he a gentleman? you wondered as you both continued walking.

When you finally reached the entrance, you closed your umbrella. The man pointed toward the parking lot. “My car’s pretty far,” he said, glancing toward the rain-soaked lot.

“I’ve got to go too,” you replied, showing him your phone. “I booked a car from the app. It should be here soon.”

He nodded, still standing close. You hesitated for a moment, then held out the umbrella to him. “Here. Take this. It’s better than running through the rain.”

He blinked in surprise, looking down at the umbrella. “How do I return this to you?”

You smiled, shrugging lightly. “It’s alright. I have more. But… if you really want to return it, you can find me at the hospital E.R. St. Grace Medical Center.”

His lips curled into a small smile, a flash of warmth in his eyes. “Alright then, the hospital. I’ll remember that.”

Before he could say anything more, your car pulled up. You gave him one last smile, ducking into the back seat, and as you drove off, you couldn’t help but wonder if you’d see him again.

🐼🐼🐼🐼

The night shift at St. Grace Medical Center had just begun, but unlike most nights, the ER was unusually quiet. A handful of patients sat in the waiting area, the usual chaos replaced by a lull. The soft beeping of monitors filled the air, interrupted occasionally by the rustle of paperwork or a distant cough.

Clara, your ever-observant co-worker, stood beside you, arms crossed, her brow raised in curiosity. "You look different tonight. What’s going on?" She tilted her head, smirking slightly.

You paused, your lips twitching into a small smile. "Well… I met this guy when I went to see my favorite panda."

Clara’s smirk grew wide. “Ah, the fluffy black and white mammals. So, what makes this guy more special than your favorite animal?”

You were about to answer when a loud commotion broke out near the entrance. A drunk patient stumbled through the doors, yelling incoherently, bumping into chairs, and causing a scene.

“Perfect timing,” you muttered under your breath.

Clara groaned. "Here we go."

You both rushed over to try and calm him down. He was clearly in no state to be reasoned with, slurring his words and swaying dangerously as he tried to grab hold of another patient’s wheelchair.

“Sir, you need to sit down,” you said, holding up your hands in a calming gesture.

The man blinked at you, confused, then suddenly lunged forward, trying to grab your arm. Panic surged through you, but before he could make contact, a firm hand caught the drunk man's wrist.

"That's enough," a deep voice said from behind you.

You turned around, startled to see him—the man from the zoo. The one who borrowed your umbrella. He stood tall, his grip firm but not aggressive as he guided the drunk man back into a chair. The drunk patient, surprised by the sudden interference, mumbled something incoherent but didn’t resist.

Relief washed over you, and you let out a shaky breath. “Thanks. That could’ve gotten ugly.”

He gave you a soft smile. “It’s quiet here,” he said casually.

You quickly shook your head, eyes widening. “Don’t say that! You’ll jinx it.”

He chuckled at your reaction, then glanced down at your name tag. “Y/N, huh? Nice to meet you. I’m James Barnes, but most people call me Bucky.”

You blinked, feeling the warmth of his smile seep into you. "Nice to meet you too… Bucky."

He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a familiar item—your umbrella. “Sorry I’m late returning this. Thanks again for letting me borrow it.”

You grinned, feeling a bit of your usual humor return. “Hey, as panda lovers, we have to help each other out, right?”

As soon as the words left your mouth, you wanted to dig a hole and hide in it. Did I really just say that?

To your surprise, Bucky laughed—a genuine, warm sound. “You’re right. We do.” Then, as if to return the favor for your kindness, he pulled a folded piece of paper from his jacket pocket. “Actually, I have something for you.”

You furrowed your brows, confused, until you unfolded the paper. Your eyes widened in disbelief—it was a VIP ticket for a face-to-face panda experience, something you had only dreamed about.

“What? How did you get this?” you asked, astonished.

Bucky smiled, a little mischievously. “I’ve got some connections.”

Before you could fully process what had just happened, Bucky waved and left the hospital. As soon as he was out of sight, Clara whistled softly behind you.

“Well, well, well,” she teased, her tone dripping with amusement. “Is someone making panda dates now?”

You rolled your eyes, though a blush crept up your cheeks. "It’s not like that, Clara."

“Mm-hmm,” she hummed, her eyes twinkling. “I’m sure it’s all innocent.”

The next day, you found yourself back at the zoo, clutching your VIP ticket nervously. And there he was again—Bucky, standing near the entrance, waiting for you.

“Hey,” he greeted you with that same easy smile.

“Hey,” you replied, feeling the familiar flutter in your chest. The two of you walked together into the building, and soon, the moment you'd been waiting for arrived: you were face to face with the baby panda.

Both of you were silent as the tiny creature waddled toward you. The panda was as adorable as you had imagined, its soft fur and curious little eyes making your heart melt. Bucky stood next to you, just as captivated. When the panda let out a small squeak, you both exchanged a glance, wide-eyed, before grinning like kids.

As you held the baby panda for a brief moment, you felt all the exhaustion from your long shifts melt away. It was like a small pocket of happiness you hadn’t realized you needed. You could hear Bucky chuckling softly beside you, clearly sharing the same sentiment.

“Why pandas?” he asked softly after a while, turning to look at you.

You shrugged, smiling. “They’re just… calming. Whenever I’m tired from the hospital or life, looking at them helps. It’s like all the stress just melts away.”

Bucky nodded thoughtfully, his gaze still on the baby panda. “I get it. My job is… well, it’s tiring. Dangerous too. But seeing animals like this, being cuddled, living peacefully—it helps. Makes me feel like there’s still good out there.”

You glanced at him curiously, sensing there was more he wasn’t saying. “Sounds like a tough job,” you said carefully.

Bucky smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “Yeah… it can be.”

It's his turn to hold and cuddle the baby panda, and the sight is nothing short of heartwarming. The little creature, with its round face and soft, fuzzy coat, snuggles into his arms as he cradles it gently. Bucky’s eyes light up with a mix of joy and awe, his broad smile breaking through his usually composed demeanor. He chuckles softly, a sound that resonates with warmth, as the panda nuzzles against his chest, completely at ease.

There’s a brief pause, the kind that feels heavy with something unsaid, as he shifts his gaze from the panda to you. The moment stretches out, filled with unspoken tension.

Then, suddenly, he turns toward you, a hint of awkwardness creeping into his expression. “You know… if you’re not busy sometime, maybe we could grab a coffee? Or dinner, maybe?” His cheeks flush slightly, as if he’s unsure how his invitation will be received, but the sincerity in his eyes reveals his hopefulness.

Your heart skipped a beat. His voice was casual, but there was a hint of nervousness behind it, which made it all the more endearing.

You smiled, warmth blooming in your chest. “I’d like that.”

His face lit up, the awkward tension lifting. “Great,” he said, looking almost relieved. “I’ll, uh, message you then?”

“Yeah,” you replied, feeling the beginnings of a connection you hadn’t expected. “I’d like that a lot.”

🐼🐼🐼🐼

Your relationship with Bucky started innocently enough, bonding over your shared love for pandas and animals. What began as casual conversations about your common interests slowly grew deeper. The two of you spent more time together, texting throughout the day, meeting for coffee, or watching movies late into the night. It wasn’t long before you started spending nights at each other’s places. The closeness felt natural, and his easygoing demeanor made you feel safe.

Clara, of course, couldn’t resist teasing you about it. One evening during a shift, she shot you a knowing look. “You know,” she began with a smirk, “you should introduce him to your family. I bet his shadow alone could shut them up.”

You laughed, rolling your eyes. "One step at a time, Clara. I don't want him to run away after meeting my family."

Over time, your relationship with Bucky deepened, and intimacy followed. You spent nights at his apartment, and he did the same at yours. The affection between you two was comfortable and warm. Bucky worked as a contractor, which sometimes took him out of town for a while. That’s why, one day, he handed you the key to his apartment with a smile.

“Keep it,” he said. “Just in case you need to check on Alpine.”

Alpine was his cat, a fluffy white ball of fur who quickly won your heart. You adored her, and it was easy to see why Bucky did too.

One day, on your day off, you decided to spend the afternoon at Bucky’s place. It was quiet and cozy, perfect for unwinding after a long week. His salary as a contractor must be high enough that he can afford this house.

Alpine was curled up on your lap as you sat on the couch, absentmindedly stroking her soft fur. The gentle purrs coming from her were soothing.

Suddenly, Alpine’s ears perked up, and before you knew it, she jumped from your lap and padded over to the bookshelf. You watched curiously as she stretched her paws toward one of the shelves.

“What are you up to, little one?” you murmured, getting up to see what had caught her attention. As you reached out to move a book, you heard a soft click. Before you could react, the bookshelf started to shift, revealing a hidden door.

Your heart raced as you hesitated for a moment, but when Alpine darted through the opening, you knew you couldn’t just leave her. Steeling your nerves, you stepped inside.

The room you entered was nothing like the cozy, homey apartment you knew. Your breath caught in your throat as you took in the scene before you. Guns lined the walls, various types of explosives were neatly arranged on shelves, and papers filled with detailed information were pinned to a whiteboard. It looked like something straight out of a spy movie—except it wasn’t a movie. It was real.

“When I finally make a move, turns out the man I like is a killer,” you whispered, your voice trembling slightly as you picked up Alpine and quickly backed out of the room. You closed the secret door, your mind racing.

What do I do now?

You paced back and forth in the living room, your heart pounding in your chest. Your thoughts spiraled as you tried to process what you had just seen. Finally, in a panic, you grabbed your phone and dialed Clara.

After a couple of rings, her voice came through, light and cheery. “Yo, girls, what’s up?”

You swallowed hard, still clutching Alpine close to you. “Clara…”

“Yeah?” Her tone shifted slightly, sensing something was off.

You whispered into the phone, your voice shaky as you held Alpine close to your chest, “I think my boyfriend is a hitman."

Taglist:

@thezombieprostitute

@scott-loki-barnes

@mostlymarvelgirl

@missvelvetsstuff

Extras:

[zephyrrr101]

Not like her

Pairing: Daemon x niece reader

Warning: Targcest/incest, DUBCON?, size kink and breeding kink light, mention of somnophilia, slight manipulation, fingering, p in v, unprotected sex, first intercourse, sweet Daemon, Daemon being a soft uncle hubby.(Because I simp) All ASOIAF warnings. MINOR DNI (but do with hungry bitches care?) also not proof read. High Valyrian translation might or not be wrong.

You looked around the Throne Room which had now was filled with hoards of people, All the nobles have made there way to King’s Landing to attend your sider sister, Rhaenyra’s wedding to your cousin Ser Laenor Velaryon. It was a match made out of convenience, you had known that.

Father had not told you much, nor had your maids and lady companions, all having been sworn to silence by your father. But it didn’t take much for news to not get to your ears. Red Keep was never able to keep gossips.

Apparently, Rhaenyra had been seen beyond the walls of Rad Keep during hour of wolf with someone in unseemly situations. There were no proofs that anyone had, but it had been enough for your father to set this betrothal to push the rumours away.

They weren’t rumours.

It was your sister’s sworn shield who had been the man who Rheernyra had shared her bad with that night. She had spoke to you of this a week after, since you broth were always close, your mother’s death bringing you even closer. You did not mind. Several lords went around having bastards, women too laid with men before marriages, you knew of it, why must Rhaenyra be kept from something she wanted But your sombre mood was not for your sister’s situation. Rhaenyra was strong and she welcomed things in her life with courage, even this marriage. Your issue was that your father, after he had talked with Rhaenyra, had a conversation with you too. You will be wed by the next year to a man of your father’s choosing. He did not seem to want another one of his daughters going and finding trouble.

You had hoped your father would give you the same liberty of choosing your husband that was given to Rhaenyra. You would not had minded choosing, you weren’t picky. You were a second daughter, getting many in a good family was always supposed to be your job. But you would have rather preferred if you could have a little bit of choice in it.

Thank you, Rhaenyra, I love you. But you fucked it up for me, Fuck you.

“Something on your mind, sweet niece?” You turned to Daemon who sat on your right. You were given the seat beside the Queen Alicent, not your preferable place, things between you and Alicent were awkward. She was your sister’s friend turned step-mother. You didn’t talk much, it was weird.

You sighed, turning to your uncle, who had come back from his trip to Stepstones a few days back. He had proven is determination when it came to the barren land. He had won it and now with your father’s blessings looked after the protection of Westros from there, visiting the place some times. “Father is setting up my betrothal.”

Daemon frowned, you could tell he was not happy, Daemon had been a constant in your and Rhaenyra’s life even of he was banished half of the time, more to you. While Rhaenyra had your father, you had your uncle. “Who?”

“I cannot say,” You fiddled with your cup of wine, you had lost your focus, drifting off in solace of solitude. “Father has not told me. But he says I will be wed by this time next year.”

Daemon did not reply. And you turned your attention to middle of room, Rhaenyra and Laenor had started to dance. You tipped your cup up, finishing your wine in one go you did not notice anything after that.

You did not notice how Daemon’s hand clenched around his cup as he glared at anything he could see, how his lilac eyes would fall over you, locking at your distressed race, how he counted each line that marred your forehead, how your tongue had slipped out of your mouth to catch the stray drop of wine and how licked it, your red tinged tongue moving over your lips wetting them. And you certainly did not notice the way he gripped Dark Sister’s pommel when Ser Harwin had come to ask you for a dance and you had agreed, leaving with the large dark haired knight.

No you did not.

You danced with other lords but again found Your way to Ser Harwin, or he did to you.

He spoke something to you, learned down so only you could hear him, Daemon could only imagine how he would be taking in your scent of jasmines, such a calming fragrance.

You nod.

He could not hear you from the distance but he had been around you for a lot longer to imagine how sweet your laughter must be in Strong knight’s ears.

This was it.

Daemon slammed his cup on the table, gathering attention of a few people around him and walked away, his brother’s cautioned words, blurred in his ears.

Ser Harwin was telling you about his tales of City Watch, how he sometimes sees the most hilarious things. Your favourite being the one where a certain lord was hit and thrown out of a pleasure house by one the workers and Ser Harwin had found him crying drunk with a bruised cheek. You had not noticed Daemon’s presence until he asked Ser Harwin if he could have a dance with you.

Who was he to say no to a seasoned warrior and dragon rider who could burn him to ashes if declined what he wanted.

“Ziry issa?” Is it him? Daemon asked you, you had well spotted the frown on his face and anger that was flowing in his lilac eyes. Something you could not comprehend.

“Skoros?” What?

Daemon takes your hand his, you let him guide to where ever he wants to, which happens to the farthest part of the dancing area, lesser people are here and you understand that whatever it must be that he wants to speak of he doesn’t want other to hear.

“Harwin,” He looks away from you and you follow his eyes, finding them on your father. It takes a moment for you to realise what he is asking.

“gimin daor,” I don’t know. You sighed. “It doesn’t matter does it, kepus? I must trust Father in his choice.”

“Your father’s choice?” He whispered, you could feel his breath tickling on your neck. “Look at this choice of his. Laenor is a good man but he will bore your sister senseless. And let us not forget his tastes.”

“It’s not that I don’t wish to marry, kepus,” You mutter, you suddenly found his doublet more interesting than the music or the dance. “But...”

Daemon hummed, his hand softly drew circles on the small of you back, you felt a shiver going through you.

“I understand politics but... I’d rather not be used as a pawn for gain without my say. At least without me knowing who I will be tied to for my whole life. I love my father, I really do,” you sighed, your eyes fell on your father and Alicent sitting beside him in a green dress. This wedding looked more like a disaster. “Look how miserable Alicent is. I do not wish to be another Alicent, kepus.”

Daemon listened to every word that left your mouth keenly. He embedded all of them in his very soul. His niece, his sweet and young niece who had been nothing but kind to him despite everything he might have one that could have hurt her. Even when his brother had sent him away for giving a moniker to his dead nephew all those years before. She had come to say good bye to him. Told him how she did not care for a boy who she didn’t even knew and wished him a safe journey, His little doll who always came to him when she didn’t like the braids her maid would put in her hair and have him redo everything.

I do not wish to be another Alicent, kepus.

And he imagined you, sitting beside some very aged lord, with life span of no long than a few years, who didn’t seem to be caring about anything but the cup of wine in his hands, children standing beside you and one in your hands, all while you looked sullen.

No. He couldn’t let it happen, Not when he knew how marriages like that ended up being.

He smiled at you, one his hand grabbing yours and other one caressing the soft skin of your cheeks, He looked at you with such intensity, with such fondness that you couldn’t help but feet the heat crawling up your neck.

“You won’t end up like her.” He told you and you knew better than anyone that his words were not hollow. It was an unsaid promise.

The wedding did turn out to be a disaster. Rhaenyra’s sworn shield had murdered Ser Joffrey Lonmouth, an event which had led to a rushed marriage between Rhaenyra and Laenor. As soon as the chaos erupted, your uncle had pulled you away towards the doors of the hall since you both were closer to it than the royal table.

The stress had caused your father to collapse and another thing had come to light some disease was eating him alive and now he had lost his arm.

In all, the day had been a like riding a wild dragon.

From what you could tell it was past midnight. And you could think of nothing better than trying to put yourself to sleep. It hadn’t taken much too. As your head hit the pillow and darkness engulfed you.

You had been sleeping deeply and peacefully. The tiring and stressed moments of the wedding had lulled you like an infant after having drunk a tummy full of milk.

You could not understand what it was that had woken you up. You felt hot. Surely it wasn’t winter and days in King’s Landing were hot sometimes but not so much to cause her such bother. Though it was not enough to cause you to get out of your sleepy reverie.

You let out a whine when you felt something moving over you leg and your shoulder, making you pull your leg away and shake your shoulder to put whatever was causing you discomfort away. The point between your legs felt wet, making you a bit worried about your moon blood but you were too far gone in sleep to care.

It was the wine you had drank like water before going to sleep. Curse the fucking thing.

It was a sound, something like a chimes that hit each other when wind flowed, that made you snap out of our daze a little bit. You forced you eyes your to open as much as they could which wasn’t a lot. You were drunk and sleepy. But you could recognise that voice and figure even in your blurred sight.

“Kepus?”

Daemon smiles at you. There were very few people who had seen him really smile genuinely. You were one of them. But this smile was different. There was something different about it. You couldn’t comprehend it.

Daemon hushed you, his hand softly laying you back again, It was then when you slowly started to come to sense. He was hovering over you and you felt his other hand between your legs, right on your...

“Kepus, what are you doing?” You almost shrieked, understanding what was going on, “Kepus, what—"

“Be quiet, sweet girl,” Daemon whispered, and leaned down, his lips falling on your cheeks, so, so close to your lips. His fingers circling your cunny, a place that was not supposed to be bare to anyone but your husband. “You didn’t want to be a pawn, right?”

“But-but Daemon—” whatever you were thinking of saying was long forgotten when you felt his his finger entering you, your breath hitched at the foreign sensation. “We shouldn’t.” You whispered, you weren’t sure if you had spoken it or if it was in your mind only.

“And why?” His voice low, you felt as if you were speaking of some centuries old secret with him. “I promised you that I wouldn’t let you be married just like this. I will keep my promise, sweet niece.”

“Daemon,” you whispered, your denial was dying on your lips with him adding another finger in you, his thumb rolling around your nub and his lips on your neck. He hummed and those were the sweetest vibration you had ever felt on your skin, a shiver passing from the junction of your neck and shoulder to your core. Some cold wind had not caused this. This you know. It was him, your kepus who did this.

Your hands went to his shoulders, bare shoulders, he did not have his tunic on. Your skin touching his warm one. He was always warm. Like a dragon. “Please,” you gasped feeling his fingers go deep in you and you squeezed his shoulders.

His fingers moved faster in you, his teeth biting at your ear, “Is this what you are asking, sweetling?”

If only you knew what you wanted. Whatever it was, you didn’t want to let go of this feeling. “Yes-fuck-kepus!” You moaned feeling his fingers curl in you. And then another on being added.

“Don’t worry,” Daemon kissed your forehead, and you realised how really small you were in front of his tall stature. Even laying he could easily reach you forehead when his fingers were far down. “Kepus will take care of. Always.”

You knew he would. Mayhap, it was that fact that you had not called out for someone.

You felt your lower abdomen clenched, you weren’t sure it was. It felt as if someone was pulling at it but from inside. And somehow it felt good too. “Kepus, Kepus, there...”

“I know, sweet girl,” his fingers moved in you even more faster, and that was all you could feel. “Let go. Just let go.”

His thumb softly pressed on your nub and you gasped.

Something washed over you, something ecstatic. You felt free. Just like when you were on dragon back.

You panted, feeling as if you were knocked out of breath. Maybe you were. You look at Daemon, as he softly pulls his fingers out of you, putting them in his mouth, you couldn’t help the heat on your face when you remembered that it was your arousal that he was happily sucking off his fingers.

You looked at him in daze, everything seemed hazy for a few moments. Daemon leaned over you, his knuckles brushing your cheeks before his lips dropped on yours.

They were surprisingly soft, you had always imagined him having a hard touch but here he was, touching you as if you were made of glass, that you would break at the slight wrong caress. You felt his tongue on your lips, and you opened, letting his soft muscle of his mouth melt into yours.

You let him do what he wished to for some moments, unaware of what you were supposed to do but it didn’t take you long to catch up and you moved your tongue against his, you felt losing breath by every moment though nothing seemed to matter. It was heaven where Daemon was taking you. And you did not want to fall down from there.

“Fuck!” You heard Daemon curse as he parted from you, and his lips fell on your jaw and something hard rubbing your core. Your hips bucked up, unconsciously and you moaned. “Stop doing that, sweet girl,” Daemon spoke, his lips were moving down and down from your jaw to your neck, his hands pushing the sleeves of your slip down, his mouth leaving wet trails between your breast.

“kepus,” you were too lost. Your uncle looked like one of those Gods of Old Valyria. So beautiful, his burnt skin like stars on the dark sky. Your hands wrapped around his arms, feeling his full strong muscles, your finger traced the healed wounds, you felt your inside twist and turn. “kepus,”

Daemon pulled away, his eyes were dark, almost pitch black, he was sat between your legs. When did that happen you weren’t aware. You chest heaved as you took each breath greedily and watched his hands moving to his breeches’ laces, pulling them and he shed off them off. You eyes were on him, whole of him and your breath hitched.

So lost in the sight of him you didn’t know when he came back and kissed you, until his cock rubbed into you and you moaned. “Kepus,”

“Shh. It’s alright.” He whispered, his hips moved, you could feel him even when he wasn’t inside you. “Fucking hells, you are wet. You want this just much, don’t you?”

You didn’t get to answer him, feeling his head on your entrance, at this moment.

“This will hurt, sweetling.” Daemon kissed your forehead, his hands brushed your cheeks and hair just like when he wanted to comfort you at any peril of your. “but it will become better. I will make it all better.” And with that he pushed inside you, slowly, and you felt yourself stretching around him as he moved in slow, sucking in breath sharply and curses leaving his mouth, all faded to you.

He wasn’t lying when he said to would hurt. “kepus,” Your nails dug into his shoulders and he kissed your cheek with caressing your head all the while.

“Good girl, such a sweet girl, taking my cock so nicely.” You could hear his groans loud and clear even when he was speaking softly and slowly. “so tight, so firm. But you will take it, won’t you?”

You didn’t answer but hid your face in his neck, tightening your hold on him. You felt tore apart, yet you didn’t want to let go. “so big, kepus,” you whispered as he continued to bottom himself inside you and he kissed your neck saying words of praises.

It felt like hours when he stopped, Daemon by then had bit on your neck several times, you felt as if you’d had bled, but there was no worry about it. He won’t hurt you. You knew.

“Open your eyes, love,” He whispered and you did, he was just a hair width away from you and you could look at his eyes so clearly, his pools of lilac, light than that was your. You wished to have his eyes in your childhood.

He kissed you again and you kissed back. You couldn’t have enough of his mouth on yours, the taste of yourself and the wine mixed in both of your mouth was so sweet to you.

“Come to Dragonstone with me,” His forehead touched yours. Both of you were breathing each other in, “Take me to husband and I will take to you wife, in tradition of our house. You won’t be like her. Ever.”

You won’t be like her, he said. And you knew he was true to his words. He will be. He will not. Not like Alicent.

Not like her.

“Avy jorraelan, Kepus.” I love you, uncle.

Daemon smiled. It was the most beautiful sight you had ever seen in your life. “Avy jorraelan, donus rinus.” I love you, sweet girl.

Daemon moved in you, slow at first, so deep, you moaned at each stroke, every time his hips met yours, you couldn’t help but cry out first in discomfort and then in pleasure.

His lips descended upon your breast, taking your nubs in his mouth, he suckled at one like a babe hungry for their mother’s milk, his other hand playing with your other and his hips pushing into yours. You couldn’t hear anything but his grunt and groans and your moans and whimper.

Daemon held your legs, putting them around his waist. If you thought he was deep before, he was reaching way inside you.

“This cunt, your cunt was made for me, sweet girl. Look how good it take me. Even when you were asleep. Getting wet for me. It knows it’s mine. You know that too, don’t you?” you ought to feel humiliated and offended at such words. Being owned by some was not something you liked. But the way Daemon said it only made you clench harder around him making him groan, “fuck, yes. Yes, you do.”

“Yes. Yes, Kepus.” You whimpered at his fast pace inside you. Lost in the world of pleasure you were, you couldn’t hold your noises anymore. But of course you uncle would remedy it for you, putting his lips on yours, drinking every single sound in which left your mouth.

You clenched, your hands in his hair, pulling at them, feeling the tugging feeling as before in you. Daemon knew it all well.

“Going to give you my seed and you will swell with our child, sweet,” Daemon muttered in your ear. You felt yourself liking the prospect. Even imagining it in your head as your uncle rutted in you.

Our child.

“Yes”, you nodded, kissing his neck, “a babe, Kepus. With your eyes. I love your eyes.”

“Whatever, my sweet girl wants.” He grunted and you clenched on him again.

“Fuck, kepus.” You moaned, you were sure by now you had scratched his back bloody. “I... I feel it. It hurts.”

“I know, sweetling,” he muttered, “Let go. Just like before. Let it go.”

It wasn’t long you felt the same bliss wash over you and you felt warmth fill you in. Daemon’s seed, you knew it was as you both panted. Daemon stopped moving inside you after a few more strokes, but he did not pull out. He lowered himself to your bed and pulled you on him.

You rested your head on his chest, some silver hair, rubbing against your cheek, you took in the scent of his sweat, his skin glistening under the moonlight that fell in your room.

You felt him pull the sheet over the both of you, his hand running over your hair and exhaustion began to take over you. Your eyes drooped but you kept blinking the sleep away.

“Sleep,” Daemon kissed your head and you fell asleep just as quick as you had woken up, you hands wounded around his neck.

You prayed it not to be a dream.

[kamaluhkhan]

LONG HOT SUMMER NIGHT

pairing: luke castellan x fem!poseidon!reader word count: 8.4k chapter summary: it's the summer solstice and olympus is throwing a party! thalia notices the tension between you and luke, poseidon gives you some relationship advice and you punch the god of desire in the face. warnings: angst! jealous reader. lots of drinking. complicated relationships. reader dealing with ptsd + survivor's guilt (post-titan war). mention of injuries + blood. creepy guy pushing reader to hook up. ending is a bit steamy but no actual smut. spoilers for the entire pjo (book) series. no betrayal (au where chris was the one who sided w kronos and led the titan army) so slightly ooc luke <3 also reader is in a band called the midnight sirens and is born on the summer solstice! author's note: thank you so much for all the love for part 1!! summer is almost over and this is very much a summer series BUT summer's not over yet !!! hope y'all enjoy this one too and thanks 4 reading 💙

part 1 | series masterlist

♪: long hot summer night by jimi hendrix

mail to: 

Luke Castellan Camp Half-Blood, Half-Blood Hill 3.141 Farm Road Long Island, New York 11954

LUKE! 

I’m sitting in my kitchen right now, watching Percy make us blue blueberry pancakes and hoping he doesn’t burn down my kitchen while doing so. I caved and agreed to take him to Disneyland while he’s here and breakfast was part of the deal, but I think I might regret it later. 

We went surfing yesterday. It was Percy’s first time, but he was (unsurprisingly) amazing at it. I still can’t get over how beautiful the beaches are and the waves — gods, the waves are unreal. You’d seriously love it here. It’s like every day is summer. You have to come visit. PLEASE come visit!!!!

- [your initial]

P.S. The band and I are working on some new music, which means I won’t make it to camp again this summer. I’m sorry ;( Fingers crossed I’ll make it next year. 

P.P.S. hi luke! happy to report that i did not burn down my sister’s kitchen. anyways, can’t wait to kick your ass in sword-fighting this summer. xoxo, percy

THREE YEARS LATER 

the first time you visited olympus, you had been sent on a quest to retrieve zeus’ stolen lightning bolt, bringing luke and charles beckendorf along with you. you had missed the summer solstice deadline, but still tried to reason with the king of the gods when presenting the symbol of power, maybe calling him out once or twice along the way. before zeus could strike you down for your boldness, poseidon stepped in. the war between them was averted in fear of a much larger, looming threat; an ominous introduction for what was to come in the next chapter of your life.

another time, the gods debated whether or not they should kill you, some seeing you as a threat to their future. that was the day you accepted your destiny, not wanting your brother percy or your cousin nico to deal with the weight of the great prophecy. 

your last visit to olympus was on your 18th birthday, after helping to defeat kronos and his army. you made the gods swear to stop neglecting their kids and to allow all demigods, regardless of whether their parent was an olympian or not, to have a home at camp half-blood; to treat their children as children rather than heroes as pawns in their twisted games.

needless to say, it’s quite strange, being back here under very, very different circumstances, where the gods invited camp half-blood’s senior counsellors and staff to join in their summer solstice festivities.

it’s not every day you’ll be invited to a party on olympus; you’re determined to have a good time, to have fun. there’s already an abundance of music, dancing, food, or alcohol, and the night is just getting started.

you’re happy to be there with new and old friends, but you’re ecstatic when you see that thalia grace is there, too. 

“immortality looks good on you, t!” you compliment, raising your voice slightly over the music.

thalia preens, and you bask in her silver glow. 

“bet you wish you took the gods up on their offer, huh,” she teases. then, her eyes widen. “oh - shit! it’s your birthday! happy birthday!” 

thalia tackles you with another hug; even after all these years, she still smells like pine trees. she grabs two goblets of honeyed wine and hands one to you as you catch up. you eagerly gulp the sweet drink, until you’re reaching for another while listening to her stories about adventures she’d been on with the hunters of artemis. 

about halfway through her story about fighting off a manticore during a snow storm, a nymph appears with a platter of the ripest of fruit – sweet plums and fresh figs, tantalising pomegranates, succulent grapes and crisp apples. 

“oh my gods, this is the best apple i’ve had in my entire life!” thalia exclaims after indulging in a taste, herself giddy from a few goblets of wine. “where’s luke? he’s gotta try this — he’s always reminding us to eat more fruit. luke!” 

you hadn’t kept track of luke, at least not on purpose. you assumed he’d been off partying with van or his siblings, and, probably, avoiding you. wherever he was, thalia calls his name twice more and, like a ghost, luke appears. 

“i’m here, t.” luke’s voice is a deep, steady rumble floating above the music. his cheeks are slightly flushed, either from the heat or the drinks. likely both. “what’s up?”

“you need to try this.” thalia shoves the apple in his mouth before luke can respond. 

luke takes a bite, and some juice drips down his chin. you, in a honey-soaked haze, think about running your tongue over to catch it, but he beats you to it, wiping it away with the back of his hand. 

probably for the best.

“holy shit. yeah, it’s good.”

thalia, a sparkle in her eyes, urges you to try it as well. from across the makeshift triangle the three of you had formed, luke tosses the apple your way. you catch it effortlessly, and sink your teeth into it. 

you’ve almost overwhelmed by the burst of flavor. the fruit is just the right amount of tart to balance out the sweetness, and it’s damn near the best crunch you’ve ever experienced.

“good is an understatement,” you say after another bite. a distant memory crosses your mind. “i wonder if these are the same ones we almost got killed by a hellhound for.” 

thalia shakes her head, laughing in disbelief. “all because luke said we needed more vitamin c.”

“i was just looking out for us!” luke guffaws. “how was i supposed to know that persephone owned an apple orchard in connecticut?”

you pat his shoulder, the three of you smiling at the memory. “let’s call it an honest mistake.”

“well if annabeth had been with us by then, i’m sure that she wouldn’t have made that same honest mistake.” 

“okay, but she’s the daughter of athena —”

you let luke and thalia slip back into their playful bickering as if no time has passed. you listen and continue eating that glorious apple, enjoying how the golden glow of your shared past fills whatever distance might have grown between the three of you. 

somewhere down memory lane, luke’s amber eyes flick towards you.

“hey, you’ve got some….” without another word, luke suddenly reaches over to brush away a trail of juice with his thumb before sticking the finger in his mouth to savour the taste. he holds your gaze as he does so, and you feel a familiar kind of heat rush through your body — not from alcohol or summer sun, but from luke. 

it’s such an intimate gesture that you almost forget that you’re at some extravagant party on mount olympus, where gods and half-bloods and a whole bunch of other mythological creatures are celebrating the start of summer by essentially getting drunk together, until thalia clears her throat. 

“okay, well, seems like the two of you might want some alone time.”

luke’s cheeks grow more flushed than before, and his eyes widen as if realizing what he’d done.

“oh, we don’t need —”

“we’re not —”

you and luke both stumble over your words; thalia just smiles knowingly. 

“i’m gonna go flirt with that nymph,” she announces, pointing across the grand marble pavilion.

“i thought — doesn’t artemis sort of frown upon that sort of thing?” you ask.

“she makes exceptions on holidays. besides, i’m her favourite. you guys have fun.” thalia winks at you and walks away.

you glance at luke and, gods, there’s so much history between you. 

the time you jumped into an ocean full of sirens to save luke from drowning? you have a scar running down your forearm where one of them scratched you as you struggled to get luke towards the surface. 

or when you took turns holding up the sky while on a quest to save lady artemis and defeat the titan atlas? it’s evident in the matching streaks of grey that you each have running through your hair. whenever you see your reflection in the mirror, you remember how you couldn’t save your cousin bianca di angelo earlier that day, and how nico has had to grow up without a sister because of a promise you broke.

how about when you, luke, and one of your best friends were sent on a mission to destroy the princess andromeda, the headquarters of kronos’ army? only the two of you survived, and sometimes you can still feel luke squeezing your hand pike he did during charles beckendorf’s burial shroud ceremony while you both cried.

or when luke took a sword between the ribs for you because he, somehow, knew the one spot the curse of achilles left you vulnerable? he can only slouch for so long before the bones there start to ache.

so, yeah. there’s way too much history, and so many tangled threads, and now really isn’t an ideal time to unravel it all. 

“i’m gonna go find my dad,” you blurt out and disappear into the crowd with no real intention of finding your father. 

the once sweet apple now tastes rotten on your tongue; you rid yourself of it in exchange for some more wine. you’re determined to have fun — no pain or heartache or grief. 

you’ve all had enough of that for three lifetimes. 

summer — age 14

“sorry your birthday was ruined.” 

luke exhaled sharply when you pressed a disinfectant-soaked cloth to the wound on his leg.

“hold still,” was all you mumbled in response, brows knitted together as you wrapped the cut in gauze. 

once you were done with his leg, you moved on to luke’s hands, burned by poisonous acid. the four of you had run into a hydra earlier that night. you managed to wound it enough so you could all get away, but not before a few injuries were sustained. 

you were uncharacteristically quiet as you worked. you only met luke’s gaze to warn him before pouring some nectar on his wounds. you let luke hold your hand, tightly, as the liquid dripped through his fingers and down to yours, first right, then left. the pain was instant, seering almost as much as the hydra acid, but it was over quickly. the last thing you did was bandage each hand before getting up. 

“i’m…i’m gonna check on thalia and annabeth. i’ll take first watch.”

luke caught your hand before you got away.

“wait. you’re bleeding.” he pointed to the cut on your brow. you had been so preoccupied in making sure everyone else was safe that you let crimson liquid drip down your face. it probably stung, too, based on your grimace.

luke wiped away the blood with his sleeve, used nectar to disinfect the wound, and dressed it with a fresh bandage, working silently as you did.

“it’s still your birthday,” luke finally said once he was done. “you get some rest; i’ll take first watch.”

you gave him a small, strained smile before checking on the others. 

later that night, you stayed up with luke anyways. 

seemingly out of nowhere, you handed him your portable cassette player. luke stared at it for a moment, unwilling to comprehend just what you were offering and, more importantly, why. 

you and luke had grown accustomed to sharing things: flannels, socks, makeshift beds and scavenged food. but this —

it was your aunt’s. 

you never met your mother, who’d left you as a baby, and of course, poseidon was too busy tending to his underwater kingdom to step in as a parent. your aunt raised you as her own. and then you lost her, too. 

you kept her cassette player buried deep in your bag with some mixtapes she had made and ones you’d stolen throughout the years. when it wasn’t your turn to keep watch, luke would sometimes catch you with headphones on, looking up at the stars. 

luke liked to think he knew you well; all those subtle elements that made you — the crack of your knuckles, the cadence of your voice, the slope of your nose, the dreams of your childhood. engraved in his own personhood. bones and all. 

and, still: he didn’t know you, not entirely. 

you’d only allowed luke to listen with you once, maybe twice. he’d never forget what it was like: knees pressed together and heads just as close to keep the wires from stretching too far; you gushing about the magic of jimi hendrix, recounting memories that echoed through gentle guitar riffs; luke yearning for one more song to play, for another a wistful smile of yours to appear. luke, wishing to linger in your private oasis a beat longer before you pushed him out again and closed the door behind him. 

the one lock luke couldn’t crack: your grief, and how you carried on so buoyantly despite its weight.

well, there you were, presenting the key to luke as an offering. a sacrifice for something luke would never ask of you. 

“this….” luke swallowed the lump in his throat, refusing to look at you. he turned the device over in his bandaged hands, the metal smooth, though well-worn. “you can’t just —”

leave. you can’t just leave. you can’t just —

“hey.” 

your hand over his, forcing him to stop spiralling and look at you. 

right away, luke regretted it. a small sliver of him, however delusional, had hoped that you were joking. 

you weren’t. behind you, there was an empty space where you had previously wedged your sleeping bag. your backpack was already strapped around your shoulders, fully packed. 

“i need to leave, luke. we can’t stay together. it’s too dangerous.”

“you don’t need to —”

“there’s more of us, now,” you interrupted, pulling your hand away to rest on your thigh. “four demigods together isn’t ideal. we’ve been attracting more monsters. more deadly monsters.”

“that would happen, anyways. it always has whether it’s the four of us, the two of us, or….” 

luke stopped his sentence short, not even wanting to give you the idea to go out on your own, even though you’d probably been thinking about leaving for some time. 

you made reckless decisions sometimes, but this didn’t seem to be one of them.

“well, it’s happening more.” your voice was steady, too steady. luke imagined you rehearsing just what to say to counter the inevitable backlash. 

luke shook his head. “i’d be dead if it weren’t for you.”

“you almost died because of me,” you clipped. you lifted a hand to touch the bruise on luke’s jaw, but let it drop just as quickly. “you know that children of the big three cause more trouble. maybe we managed it when it was the two of us, but now, there’s more to consider. a child of poseidon and a child of zeus, travelling together. it’s like we’re asking to be killed. it’s too dangerous.”

“that’s our life,” luke snapped. “you can’t just run from it.” from us.

you faltered, looking back to where annabeth and thalia were sleeping peacefully. 

oh. he must have said that last part out loud, too. 

“you know i’m right,” is all you said.

luke could only shake his head again. because, fine, you weren’t entirely wrong. it was more dangerous — but it was danger luke hoped you’d all face, together. 

“i’ve made up my mind,” you added, an anchor in the sand.

“don’t leave.” luke’s words came out as a prayer. if he offered something, maybe you’d stay.

you paused to take a shaky breath. “this isn’t goodbye, luke. i swear to poseidon…fuck, i swear to all the gods that this isn’t goodbye.”

luke couldn’t speak. there were tears bubbling in his throat, threatening to spill. 

“so, keep this for me,” you whispered, once again placing your hand on top of luke’s. his fingers gripped your cassette player tightly, like it was the only piece of driftwood leftover from a shipwreck, keeping him from sinking into the cold, dark nothing. “you’ll give it back when we see each other again.”

a promise. 

“fine,” luke conceded, though he wanted to scream at you. he wanted to argue like little kids — petty, loud, meaningless, back and forth until tears streamed down cheeks and throats were raw. 

but, you were leaving, one way or another. luke didn’t want this shared memory to be tainted if it might be your last.

“you have to take this, then. give it back when we see each other again.”

luke removed the chain from around his neck, the one that held the key to his childhood home. he placed it around yours, instead.

he didn’t need the key now, but his mother had given it to him when he was six. before he knew what it meant to be the son of hermes, god of thieves. 

call him sentimental, but luke had kept it. just in case he ever got lost. 

“if you’re ever back in connecticut, you have a home.”

“yeah, okay.” you smiled softly. 

it fell just as quickly. 

“take care of them,” you told him. “of yourself, too. i’ll see you again when it’s safe.”

luke didn’t ask when it would be safe, because the truth is that it might never be.

“because you want your cassette player back?” luke joked, instead trying to lighten the mood, to capture one last moment of brightness.

you laughed softly to not wake the others. 

“yeah. that too.”

you pressed your forehead to his, something you hadn’t done since you were kids. 

“i’ll see you again,” you repeated.

without another word, you got up and jogged away. luke shut his eyes, refusing to see you become nothing but a shadow. 

(you looked back several times, but he couldn’t see through the darkness.)

now

call the gods out on their bullshit (you encourage it), but if they have one thing going for them, it’s that the olympians know how to throw a party. 

the night grows darker, yet somehow becomes more lively. demeter and persephone had supplied a generous amount of fresh, decadent fruit, and dionysus an even more generous amount of wine. apollo starts a karaoke corner and you’re just tipsy enough to agree to sing a duet with him in order to break the ice. apparently, he’s a big midnight sirens fan and had seen your band when you headlined at glastonbury festival. you smile to yourself, imagining your bandmates’ faces if you told them that the god of music had watched you perform.

as you hand the microphone to a giggling dryad, the sound of your name washes over like gentle waves on a shore.

“if it isn’t my sweet, summer child!” your father brings you in for a hug and an ocean breeze engulfs you — salt and sand and sun. 

“hi dad,” you exhale as you pull away. 

you hadn’t seen each other in a while, but poseidon looks the same. he’s dressed in a turquoise hawaiian shirt and birkenstocks with a crown of seashells on his head. there’s a cocktail umbrella in his glass, a slice of pineapple wedged onto the rim. you’re about to ask him how he managed to secure a pina colada and where you might find one, too.

“that was quite the performance!” poseidon takes an eager sip of his drink, green eyes sparkling like sea glass in the sun. “i must tell you: your newest album is all the rage in atlantis. the nereids and merpeople can’t seem to get enough of it and, truthfully, i find myself playing it on repeat as well. you’re quite talented.” 

you try not to let your shock slip through, instead smiling and asking how things are in his underwater kingdom, but you’re….touched at your father’s unexpected praise.

the gods aren’t perfect, and your father is no exception. they’re divine beings who have time to conceive children, but not to raise them. there’s a long history of them abandoning, mistreating, and manipulating their own offspring. of course, being the prophecy child, it became practically impossible for your father to ignore you; you’re sure that being dubbed the saviour of olympus gives him bragging rights with his immortal family. even with their sworn promise to change, it’s impossible not to resent the gods in some ways. 

still, you feel comforted by your father's presence at times — when you catch the perfect wave on your surfboard, for example, or when you sit on your fire escape during a storm after a bad day. it’s been like that pretty much all your life: poseidon there in spirit, not in practice. despite everything, he’s watched over you, and percy, throughout the years.

and here poseidon is now, grinning at you like you’re his pride and joy. 

“enough about aquatic politics.” he pats your shoulder enthusiastically after telling you about the struggles of keeping humans from overfishing. “i came over to wish you a happy birthday. and to give you this.” 

poseidon reaches into the pocket of his shirt and hands you something you’d long thought gone: a leather cord with several clay beads and a silver key.

“i found it off the california coast,” he explains. “i kept meaning to get it to you, but i suppose time has a way of getting away from us, immortal or not.”

a warmth grows in your chest as you run your thumb over your old camp necklace, bright and full. it had fallen off one day when you’d gone surfing, and you assumed it was lost to the ocean. you'd been given a fresh leather cord when you arrived at camp earlier this summer, but it felt empty. hollow.

“thanks, dad.” 

you smile at him as you put on the necklace; it feels like coming home. your father then asks you about your summer so far.

you tell him all about your life as of late, until you catch a glimpse of luke with van on a marble bench at the other end of the pavilion. van is sitting in luke’s lap, and they lean over to whisper something in his ear before kissing his cheek. 

you freeze mid-way through your sentence.

sensing the shift in mood, poseidon frowns. he turns his head to follow your gaze.

“ah.” poseidon turns back to you and clears his throat. “now, i don’t mean to pry, but i saw you earlier with the castellan boy.”

you flush at the fact that your moment with luke was witnessed by your own father. “dad —”

“did you know in ancient greece, throwing someone an apple and having them catch it is considered a marriage proposal?”

“i’m pretty sure that was disproven,” you scoff.

poseidon raises an eyebrow at you, clearly amused. “which one of us was actually there, hm?” and though you roll your eyes, you can’t argue with that. “i just wanted to know if there was a wedding happening in the near future.”

you almost choke on the last remnants of your wine. “dad.”

“i’m kidding. i’m kidding! mr. castellan seems otherwise occupied.” 

“yeah, it does seem that way,” you grumble.

poseidon puts a hand on your shoulder, firm but reassuring. “regardless: if you find someone who would go to tartarus and back with you, someone who would fight alongside you every step of the way, you hold on to them. there’s only so much time you mortals have on this earth.”

you sigh — easier said than done — but your father is trying, so you manage a nod.

“i’ll keep that in mind.”

“now, i better go — ” poseidon looks over your shoulder, where the air behind you starts to feel staticky. “it seems a disagreement is brewing between zeus and hades. they always get into it whenever dionysus makes the wine a bit too strong. brother, put away the lightning bolt —” and he rushes away to prevent another divine conflict from arising.

left to your own devices, you venture over to the food table, finding an array of fresh and dried fruit, breads, cured meat, fresh oysters and, of course, more wine. you grab a goblet and a few dried figs.

“careful, i heard dionysus made the wine extra strong tonight,” someone warns, creeping up beside you. the voice is soft and alluring, and you feel something tug at your heart. 

you do a double take when you turn to them; the person is devilishly handsome, a golden aura paired with a golden smile. 

(you will soon find out that the god flirting with you is the son of ares and aphrodite, the latter of which takes the appearance of whoever the onlooker loves. as it turns out, her son appears in the same way. 

all this to say: it doesn’t mean anything that this god looks like luke castellan to you. 

it doesn’t mean anything at all.)

“i’m eros.”

“hey. i’m —”

“i know who you are, savior of olympus.” eros winks at you. “i just never realized you were so beautiful.”

your cheeks heat up as you take a sip of your drink.

oh, shit. 

okay. the literal god of desire and pleasure is flirting with you. 

you’re flattered, really, and maybe the wine has gotten to your head, but you’re not eager to turn him away.

“well, i’ve definitely heard about you, and the rumors do not do you justice,” you quip, painting on a flirtatious smile.

eros puffs out his chest, clearly pleased. 

over the next few minutes, you decide that eros can hold a decent conversation, asking you the classic first date questions about your likes and dislikes, and he’s cute enough that you wouldn’t mind things going further. 

(he might be a god, but he’s no luke. you push that thought away, and force yourself to flirt with helios. eros. right, eros.)

eros leans in close, pretends to listen to you, lets his gaze drop every so often to the deep v-neck of your shirt.  

“no way! 13 going on 30 is a classic,” you argue. you nudge your shoulder into eros’s playfully, and let the contact between you linger. eros, the inspiration for cupid himself, has angel wings, and you feel them brush softly against your burning skin. 

“it’s totally overrated!” eros exclaims. “also, the childhood friends to lovers trope gives people false hope.”

“it’s not false hope. it’s about the buildup to their happily ever after,” you reason, swallowing some wine to dislodge the lump in your throat.

eros shakes his head. “trust me, baby, it’s all about the instant attraction. that’s where the excitement is.” 

he’s so close now, you can smell the sharp alcohol on his breath. not wine, but something stronger.

“oh? what do you mean by that?” you lean impossibly closer, trailing a finger down his chest.

eros smirks, placing a hand on your thigh. “want me to demonstrate?” 

not even a second after you whisper a yes, eros crashes his lips onto yours, and you will yourself to kiss back. he slides his tongue in your mouth, runs his hands over your body. 

you’re making out with the god of desire and passion, so, objectively, it’s a good first kiss: soft around the edges and firm where it needs to be.

sure — you feel nothing, no real spark, but it’s almost enough to fill the hole in your heart in the shape of a certain son of hermes. 

the son of hermes who has moved on and is in a loving relationship with a perfect emotionally available partner. 

so, it’s fine. 

this, this thing with eros, is fine. 

you’re fine.

eros pulls away first, but keeps a hand on your cheek.

“let's get out of here.” 

he grabs your wrist before you have a chance to answer. you stand up, let him weave you through the crowd towards the stairs of the pavilion. apparently, his room is just through the garden. 

as he tugs you along, he looks back at you, smiling. under the glow of the stars, eros looks just like luke, except it’s becoming harder to ignore that he isn’t luke and that makes you feel all sorts of nauseous. your camp necklace weighs on your chest and, in particular, the silver key that you’d kept for all those years burns through your skin. 

lightheaded, you pull away from eros’ grip just as you reach the top of the stairs and place a hand on the column next to you to steady yourself.

eros turns around sharply. “what is it?”

“i changed my mind, actually. let’s just…keep talking here.”

eros grabs your wrist again, his grip tighter than before. “don’t be a tease.” his tone is ever-so-gentle, but there’s an edge behind his words. 

this time, your voice comes out more assertive. “i just changed my mind. that doesn’t make me a tease.”

“come on, baby, don’t you wanna experience what real passion is? this is a once in a lifetime opportunity that a million girls would kill for. you’d be an idiot to pass it up.” he brags, and you’re this close to breaking this guy’s nose, god or not. 

“i don’t care,” you snap, struggling to break free from his grip. “and i’m not your baby.”

“okay, whatever,” eros rolls his eyes, but quickly plasters on an arrogant grin. “we’ll go somewhere private and i’ll call you whatever you want.”

he manages to drag you down two steps as you strain against his iron grip, now almost cutting off your circulation. your heartbeat quickens and you feel dizzy. finally, you grab onto the railing for leverage and use your strength to rip out of his grip, forcing eros to stop in his tracks.

“what is it now?” he snaps, whipping his head around once more. 

he looks nothing like luke, now.

“just stop, eros.”

“listen,” he starts, speaking to you almost mockingly, like you’re a naive little kid. so much for being the savior of olympus. “trust me, i know what people want, so you don’t have to be shy. i promise to be the best you’ve ever had —”

“eros, is it?” the rest of the party is in full motion, but here’s percy, giving eros one of the most intense death stares you’ve ever seen. percy, your little brother who talks to lonely fish at the aquarium; who, if you cut open, would bleed blue m&m’s; who would never let anyone, god or otherwise, hurt someone he loves. “i’m gonna have to ask you to let go of my sister.”

“mind your own business, kid,” eros hisses. “we’re kinda in the middle of something.” he tries to move you down another step, but you stand your ground.

annabeth, no longer the scared little seven year old you, luke, and thalia found behind a dumpster, is also glaring at liam from the top of the stairs. one of her hands rests firmly on her belt, where she keeps her dagger. 

“i’d back off, if i were you,” she warns. “wouldn’t want to cause a scene.”

“just mind your own business,” eros snarls.

“they said leave her alone,” thalia asserts, walking over once she sees what’s happening. “and you don’t wanna mess with us, trust me.” she clenches her hand into a fist.

“who the fuck are you? her bodyguards?” 

“just let her go,” percy orders. “my sister can do a lot better than a minor god with a major god complex.” 

eros growls, baring his teeth at percy. “you impertinent little shit.”

as soon as eros lunges for your brother, you tug one of his wings towards you, hard. he whips around and you take the opportunity to punch him in the face. he doubles over, golden ichor gushing from his nose.

“i’d be careful if i were you, baby,” you seethe. “you wouldn’t want to go up against the demigods who led an army against kronos and won. unless, of course, humiliation is a kink of yours.” you laugh humorlessly at the way eros scowls at your words. “to each their own,” you continue. “but i’m not in the mood to fuck an entitled creep with angel wings to compensate for his tiny dick. you better fucking respect that, and leave us alone while you’re at it.”

eros’ flirtatious smile is long gone, replaced with the kind of anger only entitled, self-important jerks have when they don’t get what they want and they’ve taken a few blows to their ego. 

call it stupidity or arrogance, but his only response is a punch delivered right back to your face. 

you hear a crack upon impact, and pain radiates from your nose. you stumble, but percy manages to reach out and catch you before you fall down the stairs. he holds you as thalia and annabeth create a barrier between you and eros. you hear them shouting at eros over the music, but their exact words don’t register.

you lick your lips, tasting blood. your ears are ringing, and everything is suddenly all fuzzy. percy tries his best, but you slump your body weight into his and he almost topples over.

“i’ve got her.” luke’s calm and measured voice cuts through the chaos. you feel a strong, familiar arm wrap around your waist to steady you. “from what i remember, you were too much of a coward to even step foot on the battlefield, so i’d listen to her if you know what’s good for you.” in a haze, you guess that luke is directing his sharp words towards eros, before turning to the others and instructing: “you guys take care of this — find clarisse if you need back up.”

somehow, you find yourself over in a small secluded temple, sitting on a window bench overlooking the clouds as luke sits next to you.

like most of olympus, the building is made of marble with gold accents; this one has roses engraved on the walls, and the space smells like flowery perfume. it’s much quieter than the pavilion, though you can hear laughter and music in the distance. it’s cooler, too, but not by much; even without all the body heat, you're left with sticky summer air, and luke’s breath on yours, sweet with wine and ripe fruit, as he carefully examines your injury.

you feel your head spinning all over again. maybe it’s the alcohol, or the adrenaline, or the fact that the two of you haven’t been this close in a while — probably a dangerous mix of all three. 

you know (from trying not to but ultimately not being able to pull your attention away from him after all) that he’s had a few drinks as well; it seems like the two of you ignore each other best when you’re sober.

“thought the curse of achilles would protect you from nosebleeds.”

“guess it doesn’t protect against —” what did percy call eros? “ — minor gods who have major god complexes,” you recite.

luke looks slightly amused. “that’s a shame,” he hums. “would have been nice to get one birthday without being injured.”

a smile creeps onto your face, despite the dull ache from your nose.

“you remembered.”

“of course i remember,” luke almost scoffs like the mere suggestion of forgetting what day you were born is an insult to his very character. he meets your gaze, and you could melt when he offers you that lopsided smile of his, painfully familiar. “happy birthday, aquagirl,” and it’s the softest he’s spoken to you in a while. just like old times.

he remembers. 

somewhere within him, luke holds on to fragments of you.

he wipes the blood off your face, the sleeve of his silk white button-down now stained crimson. “how’s your hand?” he asks. 

you flex your fingers. “it’s been better,” you answer, your knuckles slightly aching. “totally worth it.”

“i guess all those years away didn’t change anything. still willing to put a god in their place, huh?”

all those years away. 

the reminder feels like a stab to the heart, and you’re worried that it might burst the comfortable bubble you and luke had drunkenly stumbled into. 

thankfully, luke continues:

“the kids really take after you.”

he says as a joke, mostly, but there’s a sincerity in those deep brown eyes of his, too. something you also hadn’t seen from him in a while. 

the kids, who you’d in some ways raised together when monsters were trying to kill you and the gods didn’t care enough to stop it. 

the family you and luke had built together despite being born into the world of greek tragedies. 

“as if annabeth wasn’t threatening to pull the dagger you gave her, skywalker,” the nickname rolling off your tongue with ease. “besides, they’re not kids anymore.”

“yeah.” he pauses. “neither are we.” 

luke’s fingers trace your camp necklace, brush against your collarbone. the breath hitches in your throat.

here you are again, at the edge of something real and very scary, and you fear luke is going to push the two of you over. 

but he doesn’t. instead, luke suggests, jokingly: “maybe we should start a fight club at camp.” 

you take that as a good sign: like you, he’s hoping to preserve the playfulness between you before everything else seeps in and ruins it. before you’re brought back to the present, where you’re practically ignoring each other.

where you’re fine, but really. 

you snort. “chiron and mr. d would love that.”

“like they’d ever find out!” luke explains. “you know the first rule of fight club —”

“don’t talk about fight club,” you finish together. 

luke laughs, even though it’s not that funny. you laugh, too. 

and that’s the thing that really, truly gets you. 

try as you might to ignore it, some days it’s hard to forget the pain and heartache and grief. 

you still feel like your life is a battlefield; you still see the ghosts of everyone you couldn’t save even though people call you a savior; you still have those scars, inside and out, that seemed healed but ache every once and a while. 

but that isn’t all. 

sometimes it hurts more thinking back to the good times and knowing, deep down, you can never go back.

summer — age 13

“ugh — you think with all their power, the gods could help stop global warming,” you groaned, swatting away a mosquito that tried to land on you. “do you think they have air conditioning on olympus?”

“oh, for sure,” luke quipped. he gave you a lopsided smile, his curls sticking to his forehead, drenched in sweat. 

it was the summer solstice, the longest and the hottest day of the year so far. the two of you had found a perfectly good hideout, but luke insisted that this place would be worth the move. 

he’d been leading you down side streets for what felt like forever. the sun had already set, and you were very close to passing out from the heat, until luke finally stopped at a door behind an alley, with a sign reading CLOSED FOR RENOVATIONS. 

luke knelt down to do whatever son-of-hermes lock magic he had to do to get the door open. he flipped a switch, and you winced at the sudden overwhelming brightness. 

the destination was different than the hideouts you usually sprung for: those small, hole-in-the-wall type places. instead, this space was big and bright, filled with arcade games and fun posters and neon colours. the type of place a kid might have a party or where a group of normal teenagers might spend their friday night. 

“what…what is this?”

“you thought i forgot, didn’t you?” luke smirked at you. he sat down on the colourful carpet, taking out some snacks, a small plastic bag with coins, a wrapped box, and a plastic blue crown, and gestured for you to join.

you did, in fact, think that luke had forgotten your birthday. 

birthdays were bittersweet for children of gods, who were constantly reminded that any year could be their last, their youth cut short by monsters or prophecies or a fatal flaw. all the two of you usually did on either birthday was split any sweet treat you could get your hands on. 

it wasn’t a big deal, really, to skip that tradition of yours. there were much more urgent things to worry about, like finding food and water and shelter, and not being devoured by monsters. 

you did think it was strange that luke hadn’t so much as said happy birthday to you all day, but you knew that he loved you.

(like a friend loves a friend. nothing else, no matter how much your stomach fluttered at the thought of him.) 

“i wanted to surprise you,” luke explained once you claimed your spot next to him. he reached over to place the crown on your head. “i found this place a few days ago during a food run. it reminds me of where we had your —”

“eighth birthday party, yeah.” you smiled at the memory of running around and feeding quarters to every machine and trying every game, of your classmates singing happy birthday to you off-key before you all stuffed your faces with sickly sweet confetti cake. 

truthfully, you never thought about having another celebration like that again.

but, it was five years from that faded childhood memory, and luke was presenting you with something you didn’t even realize you had needed: the chance to be a kid again.

“so,” luke got up, a wide smile on his face. he held the plastic bag in one hand, extending the other to you. “which do you wanna play first?”

you started with space invaders, then moved on to dragon’s lair and pac-man. you took a break before street fighter ii so that luke could ceremoniously light a candle and present a cupcake that had been tossed around in his bag (but you were still very, very grateful for), along with fresh batteries for your portable cassette player. he had made you a mixtape too, though you couldn’t figure out how. 

your last stop was a photobooth. you vowed to keep those pictures — a collection of you and luke together, smiling bright and colourful, goofing off and laughing — for the rest of your life.

now

those moments from past summers are like popsicles melting in the sun: tangible for a limited time before leaving you with a sickly sweet mess of what once was. 

you think about what happened earlier, how percy, annabeth, and thalia stepped in to protect you, still the brave kids you had once known so well. how luke is here with you now, taking care of you so tenderly even after you’ve silently agreed to give each other the cold shoulder. 

maybe luke is right. maybe all those years away didn’t change anything. 

except — once you leave this temple and the alcohol leaves your system, it won’t be the same. 

none of you are kids anymore, if you ever even were. 

“why’d you go for eros, anyway?” luke asks, breaking you away from your thoughts. he removes his sleeve from your nose since the bleeding seems to have finally stopped.

“you really wanna know?”

“yeah. most gods are assholes. and you’re…” luke places a hand close to your leg, pinky finger brushing your thigh. “you.”

“i went for eros because….well, honestly, i don’t think i cared who it was, as long as they made me forget you,” you admit, because what did you have to lose. you probably have a broken nose, you definitely have blood on your shirt, and your time with luke is running out. 

luke’s eyes darken. his fingers start to play with the hem of your shorts. 

“did it work?” his voice is a whisper, but he’s close enough that he’s crystal clear.

“no.”

it’s hard to determine who leans in first, but soon enough your lips are on luke’s — messy and urgent. noses bumping together, teeth clacking against each other. he cradles your face in his hands, and you move to straddle his waist. you taste wine on his tongue, and maybe a hint of sweet pears, but it’s overwhelmed by the salty, metallic taste of blood stained on your lips. when you run out of air, you pull away. it’s clearer now: you’re not dizzy from the alcohol or adrenaline, but dizzy from him. luke’s gaze is heavy on yours as he traces your top lip with his thumb.

“luke,” you whimper, itching to kiss him again. 

“you’re still bleeding.”

luke wipes away the blood with his thumb. before either of you can do or say anything more, there’s an echo of footsteps on the marble floor. a flower nymph, there to leave an offering and let you know that, while aphrodite encourages acts of love, she prefers it doesn’t happen in her place of worship. 

you realize that aphrodite also might not look so fondly at you kissing someone else in her place of worship after publicly rebuking her own son.

luke untangles himself from you, and you know that he’s been jolted back to reality, too. 

and, just like that, another moment has melted away.

your father was right. time has a way of slipping away for us, immortal or not.

summer — age 18

“hey, you awake?”  

“yeah,” you replied softly. sleep hadn’t been easy, in the days and weeks and months leading up to that final battle with kronos and his army. 

and once it was all over? 

you rested your head on luke’s shoulder, sword discarded at your feet and armour half-removed, as argus, the hundred-eyed security guard of olympus, drove a school bus with a dozen or so demigods back to camp.

“why’d you turn down their offer?” luke whispered.

oh.

"why...why do you ask?"

"i don't know." luke paused. "just curious, i guess."

you closed your eyes and replayed that moment on olympus when you refused the gift of immortality. the look of shock written on the gods’ faces. and on luke’s.

“i don’t care about living forever,” you told him bluntly.

forever seemed too long, especially for someone who was prophesied to die at 18.

you tilted your head up to meet luke’s gaze, and his messy curls brushed against your forehead. evidence of the battle was clear on his face: caked-on dirt and blossoming bruises and dried blood. 

behind him, outside the bus window, the world was flying by. a child who had fallen off their bike being comforted by a friend. two people sharing an mp3 player and a pair of earbuds. an elderly couple walking their dog.

“you once told me that this was our life,” you continued, gesturing towards the weapons and battle-worn kids, some quiet, others crying, many injured. “what if it didn’t have to be?” 

luke furrowed his brow. “do you mean….are you talking about leaving?”

you shrugged. running from monsters for your entire childhood then being the child of the great prophecy was a lot.

a break might be nice.

there was so much about the world, the one you’d fought and bled to protect, that you wanted to experience. 

maybe something closer to a normal life.

“would you ever leave camp?” you wondered, not really answering luke's question. 

“no,” luke replied instantly. his fingers started fiddling with the beads on his necklace. “i can’t just walk away, not after everything.”

“yeah, i get that.” and you did; you really, truly, did. the guilt of wanting to leave camp curled in your stomach like a venomous snake. you took a shaky breath. “let’s talk about this later, yeah? i’m tired, and we have the rest of — ”

the rest of the summer slipped away in the blink of an eye. gone, before you even had a real chance to say goodbye.

you closed your eyes and held on to luke, as if gripping his arm would anchor you to something you weren't ready to let go of, but in some ways needed to move on from.

it was no use, though. 

by the end of august, you’d be gone too. 

now 

you learned early on that the curse of achilles doesn’t protect you from hangovers.

you wake up the morning after the celebration on olympus with a deep, throbbing pain lodged in your temple and an uncomfortable swirling in your gut. parties and late nights at bars are common on tour, which means migraines are, too, so you have a routine to make sure you’re not out of commission for too long.

except this time, the aspirin and blue gatorade and dry toast don’t work. the sting in your brain and uneasiness in your stomach doesn’t go away, even after a few days. you haven’t been able to sleep, either.

desperate for a cure, you consult lou ellen, head counsellor of the hecate cabin, who you’d unexpectedly grown close to in the past few weeks. she mixes something for you, while asking if there’s something that’s been weighing on you.

you couldn't keep it in anymore; you tell her about the summer solstice and luke.  

later, with nothing but your thoughts and percy’s snoring occupying your time post-curfew, you grab your phone and flip it open, deciding to finally reach out to luke, when you get a text from him.

luke is already on the beach when you arrive, looking out onto the water. 

“hey,” you greet as you sit next to him on the sand, but not too close. “i was actually about to text you —”

“did you tell anyone that we kissed?” he interrupts. you can’t quite read his expression as he waits for you to answer.

“no, i didn’t,” you lie. “would it matter if i did?”

“well, i mean, word travels fast around camp, and i don’t want van finding out. it’s not like it meant anything.”

the throbbing in your brain becomes a sharper sting, the uneasiness in your stomach a tidal wave of nausea.

“it didn’t?” you hate how fragile your voice sounds, compared to luke’s stoic demeanor.

luke shrugs. “i mean, we were both drunk and the thing with eros happened…we just got caught up in the heat of the moment.” 

“you’re saying there’s nothing between us, then? nothing?” the word tastes bitter in your mouth.

luke turns away before he answers. “no. nothing.”

“then what about last summer?” you demand. you force yourself to keep it together, your tone firmer than before. “i guess that didn’t mean anything, either.”

“y/n…” he sighs. “i don’t know what you want me to say. we’re barely even friends anymore. you come back here, after all this time, after so much shit happened, and expect us all to drop everything to fit you back into our lives. but, you don't. whatever you came here for, it's not here for you. there's nothing to go back to. we moved on. i moved on, and i can’t deal with you —" 

“got it,” you snap, already turning to walk away. “loud and fucking clear, luke.” 

it’s not like it meant anything. we’re barely even friends anymore.

you replay luke’s words as you crawl into bed, holding back tears so as to not disturb percy. finally, you swallow a generous amount of whatever concoction lou ellen had brewed up for you.

drifting off into your own sleep, you decide that you don’t love luke anymore. not as a friend, not as a.....

nope. 

according to luke, there's not even anything to go back to.

nothing.

nothing.

[maidservant-hecubus]

My father is an Ashkenazi Jew. His parents were first generation Americans. Their parents escaped the pogroms in Russia and Ukraine and came to find their American dream. They fought in wars and opened businesses and assimilated and my generation barely has a few words of Yiddish between us. My mother is as much of a WASP as it gets. American Revolutionaries and Signers and some household name civil war feature players. Not old money, but old America and undoubtedly white. I'm patrilineal. Not a Jew to a lot of Jews. Not a Jew to a lot of my Jewish family. Even though i was raised Jewish. Even though I look like my father. Even though i got enough of something in my DNA to get asked "What are you?" more often than not. More often than I'm just accepted at face value as "white". When i was little we lived in an Irish Catholic neighborhood. Like the 5-10 kids in every family sort of Irish catholic neighborhood. The kids calling me a christ killer and refusing to play with me because they heard it from their parents sort of irish catholic neighborhood. For some reason my parents tried to send me to the catholic school down the street. I lasted less than a week because i didn't understand their rituals and their language and they found out my father was a Jew and they couldn't have a christ killer in their midst. I was just sad i didn't get to wear the cute plaid skirt anymore. So i went to the public school and my well meaning shiksa mother who never converted but learned the Chanukah prayers and helped cook Seder dinners came to the school to teach the class about Chanukah. She taught them songs and all the kids got dreidels and had so much fun spinning the top for chocolate coins. It was nice to feel normal. A few weeks later a boy in a higher grade attacked me on the way to the bus and smashed my art project (we had made pig noses from solo cups to celebrate reading charlotte's web) into my face and called me a filthy jew. I didn't understand, i was more upset to lose the project i was so proud of. Other things happened. Things I wont talk about because putting them in context would doxx me. But a million reminders that i wasn't one of them. I wasn't welcome because i was Jewish. My parents divorced. My mother left. Far away so I'd only see her a handful of times growing up. And I went to live with my Dad in a city that seemed like it was overflowing with Jews. Everyone knew my holidays! In public school the teachers looked like my family and had familiar sounding names. We had the high holy days off just like christmas or easter. We sang Chanukah songs in the winter recital and nobody's mom had to come teach them to the class. Finally I belonged! My friends and cousins started planning for their b mitzvah celebrations and i asked for my own. I asked to go to hebrew school so i could be more like the people i belonged with and celebrate the things i loved about myself and them. "But you're not jewish." My father would say. This was news to me. The christ killer. The filthy jew. But a 10 year old has little power over their lives. So i didn't go. I didn't have a bat mitzva while my cousins had theirs. It was okay because i still belonged more than i ever had. But i was still jewish enough to keep the holidays and pray and fast and get sent with a box of matzo to my WASP grandmothers for easter, and have matzo packed in my lunch to eat in AP algebra in 7th grade and get asked if I'm a "Yid" by the teacher. And still to this day not know if it was endearment or insult but by then I knew even in this magical city being a Jew wasn't always safe. in highschool I tried to take hebrew lessons with a friend in a similar situation as me. She was also hungry to reconnect. I don't remember why the classes or the friendship fell through, but they did. My next "friend", a goy raised catholic from another neighborhood, liked to accuse me of being money driven when i picked up a penny on the sidewalk or tried to ask who was going to pay for the zine's she wanted to publish.

 "What are you?" I'd get asked a lot on the street by curious strangers, "Where are you from?" "Are you Italian?" Always Italian. I never really understood that, but its become code in my head for "You look like you're white but something about you is very not white and I just can't place it, so Italian seems safe and polite." I'm not here to unpack the Italian part of all that. I don't even know what I'm unpacking for myself by writing this except I've been sick for days and I'm so tired and this is all that my foggy brain can wrap itself around. Later I'm an adult and on my own and getting bloodwork done. The Nurse is a black woman and so sweet to me. She can tell I'm nervous about the needles because I've already stumbled through my apologies for my herd to find veins. So she distracts me with small talk. Where do i live? I tell her. She looks worried for me. Tells me that it used to be a nice neighborhood before white people took it over and she warns me like she's my own mother to be careful because they aren't safe. I doublecheck the skin she's putting a needle into. Whatever she sees isn't white. I love her for it. For a moment I belong there with her. She doesn't ask what I am or where i'm from, but she knows what i'm not. I'm the only one keeping the holidays with my family. We celebrate Passover because I go home to my fathers and cook the dinner and print out the Haggadah and lead the Seder to the tune of my drunk catholic stepmother eating my food and telling me i'll never be a jew. She's more of a jew than I'll ever be because she grew up in a jewish neighborhood and her friends were all jews and she married a jew and i was just playing pretend. I stopped going home for holidays and they stopped observing anything except Christmas. I marry a goy. "Is he a jew?" is the first thing my father asks and he's disappointed when i say no. He's abusive, i run. I end up living in the attic of this older old money WASP couple who need a live in house sitter. They're pillars of their church and they know someone from the WASP side of my family very well and its a funny coincidence and they think i belong there. I know from their divest from Israel bumper stickers that i don't. Then they find out I consider myself Jewish and i see the light in their eyes die and its replaced by something hard and disappointed. Now, while writing this, i can laugh about being the jew in someone's attic. But then, it was only a few months after that they started coming up with excuses for why I needed to move out. I did, their excuses never manifested into reality. I got married again. A jew this time! a Jewish medical professional liek grandma always wanted. She's a convert and her ex was a rabbinical student. I think maybe i'm home finally. She has to understand. I'm not Jewish enough for her. We don't keep holidays at home because i'm not a jew. I cry every year when pesach comes and goes and i haven't recited the plagues or eaten matzo piled high with horseradish. She insists on putting up a christmas tree. She turns abusive. I run.

I'm alone now and no longer in that magic jewish city. I'm far away and surrounded by mega churches and cows and the bagels suck and people quote the bible at me like some call and response that i don't have the cheat code for and I don't belong here at all but i'm finally finally free to light my menorah and recite the plagues and study torah with the group i found here on tumblr who love and accept me even though i'm patrilineal. Oct. 7th happened a few weeks after I moved here. I worry about my family back home and i think no one will look for Jews here among the cows and mega churches, so I can be a safe place for them to run if things get bad again. But i still don't fit in here. I don't look right. The last name I have now is common here and too white for whatever people see when they look in my face. I get interrogated about it a lot. But i learned quickly how to smile and say "have a blessed day". I hide my menorah when maintenance comes to work on my apartment. I flew home last month. Just for a visit. I've never been away from home this far or this long. And I'm the type that covers nerves and anxiety with chattiness, so at the airport i made a for-now-friend while we both waited for the plane to board. She's Puerto Rican. We talk about our lives. Our families. Her twin sister and i go by the same nickname and so we're family now. We talk about food. So much food and how much we love cooking and how important food was at home. "Are you Italian?" she asks as we're stepping through the hatch into the plane. Why always Italian? I wonder for the millionth time in my life. And I freeze up for a moment between fighting my carry-on over the gap and terror that I'm about to see the light go out behind her eyes and i'll lose this for-now friend. "No," i laugh but its not a real laugh and i see the concern in her face as we squeeze through the aisle because she can hear the apprehension in my voice, "I'm Jewish." And something strange happened because her face lit up and she smiled and said "No way?! You guys have GREAT food!"

[littledovesnow]

the president's wife

what happens when some rebels try and get back at coryo >:-)

a/n: angst angst angst!!, read the prologue (?) here

content warning(s): mentions of death, kidnapping, kind of canon level violence???

“Are you almost ready, my love?” Coriolanus asked, walking into the bedroom as he finished closing the cuff links on his wrists.

You nodded, walking out of the closet with a pristine pair of black stilettos in your hand, red bottoms causing a grin to spread across your husband’s face.

“Going for the vintage heels tonight?”

“Only for the most special of occasions.” You smiled, taking his hand as you stepped into the shoes. “Are you ready for your party, President Snow?”

Coriolanus’ eyes lit up when you called him that, following you out into the foyer. “More ready for the after party with you.”

You lightly slapped him on the chest, looking up at his hair. “I do wish you grew your curls out again. That’s one more thing that District 12 took from me.”

Coriolanus sighed, running a hand through his blonde locks. He had decided to keep the shorter hair from his first days back from his Peacekeeping stint, stating it made him look more professional.

“Yes, but it’s less to grab onto.” You had replied when he first brought the idea up to you. That alone almost made him grow the curls back out, but once you two discovered that it was even more fun with a buzz on the sides, the style stayed.

“Did you ever hear back from Tigris?” You asked, stepping into the black town car that was going to take you to the party.

Coriolanus had extended an invitation to his cousin to the inauguration party, but she was out in District Four with Fabricia, not due back in the Capitol for another couple days.

“She said she would try and make the earliest train back, but I haven’t heard if she’s made it or not.”

You hummed, looking out the windows as the Capitol citizens made their way to the Citadel, hoping to get a glimpse of the new First Couple. Little did they know, said couple was riding alongside them.

Coriolanus looked you up and down, hand moving to your thigh and giving it a squeeze. “You okay?”

“I am, just nervous. You know I don’t like crowds.” You had a dislike for large crowds ever since you were a young girl, having seen your father shot by rebels during what was supposed to be a routine drill.

“After tonight, you’ll not have to worry about large crowds.” Coriolanus promised you, ready to give you anything and everything under the sun.

Smiling at him, you leaned over to press a kiss to his lips, making sure the red lipstick you wore wasn’t noticeable. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.” Coriolanus whispered, car coming to a stop outside the front entrance of the Citadel.

-----

You had been introduced to dozens and dozens of people, you weren’t sure you even remembered who anyone was by the time you and Coriolanus were able to have a moment of peace.

There had been endless congratulations to the new President and First Lady, with handshakes and some hugs following.

Coriolanus took a sip of the posca in front of him, gesturing to the bar. “Why don’t you go ask for some champagne, I made sure they had some on order for tonight for you.”

A man after your own heart, you squeezed his hand before heading over to the bar, smiling at the bartender. “Champagne, please.”

“Ah, you’re the reason we have cases in the back.” The bartender smiled, popping the cork on a fresh bottle.

You smiled, thanking the man for the glass of bubbly. “Was champagne not a common drink with the last president?”

“No, his party-goers and visitors often went for posca and morphling over anything else.” The bartender, Gus, you read on his nametag, continued to pour drinks while talking to you. “But it seems like you and President Snow will have your fair share of pocsa and champagne, I presume?’

“Not really, Coryo doesn’t really drink unless it’s a social event.” You spoke, watching as Coriolanus was pulled into a conversation with some other politicans. “What else do you-”

You froze when you felt the telltale pressure of a gun barrel to your side.

“Move, speak, do anything to alert anyone and I’ll shoot.”

Swallowing, you looked over at Gus, who simply looked at your predicament and froze, as well, half-dry whiskey glass in his hands.

“Good.” You braved a look at the voice talking, seeing an unfamiliar man with sun damage on his face. If you had to take a stab at it, you’d guess he’s from District 11. “You’re going to follow me out the back, casually. As to not alert that husband of yours.”

“The president. You mean the president of Panem.” You whispered, regretting it as you felt the gun push harder into your side.

“Shut up.”

You braved one last look at Gus, who was about to speak when a gunshot rang out, your eyes growing wide as you saw blood stain his white shirt.

-----

Coriolanus was mid-sentence with some politicians trying to get money for District Four when he heard an all-too-familiar sound hit his ears.

People ducked for cover, screams were let out, and several Peacekeepers rushed over to Coriolanus to escort him out of the room.

He looked at the bar, heart racing when he saw you weren’t there. “Where’s my wife?” He asked, head swiveling to look around. “Did you see where she went?”

“Sir, there’s still a threat, we’ve got to move.” A Peacekeeper said, urging Coriolanus out of the room.

Unable to fight back against the increasing-number of Peacekeepers, Coriolanus was ushered into a saferoom of sorts, though nothing felt safe without you next to him.

“What the fuck happened? Where is my wife?” Coriolanus demanded, this was not how he predicted he’d be spending his first night as President.

One brave Peacekeeper spoke up. “We’re unsure of her location at the moment but-”

“What do you mean you’re unsure of her location? You better find her or your family will be wondering where you are in the morning.” Coriolanus threatened, eyes dark with rage and terror.

Peacekeepers raced out of the room, and Coriolanus collapsed into one of the seats along the wall, head falling into his hands.

He was going to lose you before you two even had a chance to live.

Heart hammering in his chest, he shot up when he heard the door open, Peacekeepers walking into the room. “There’s a bartender in the infirmary, Sir. He’s asking to speak to you.”

“Why would I-”

“He said he saw who took your wife.”

Coriolanus said no more, instead following the Peacekeepers down to the infirmary, trying to get the uneasy feeling out of his system.

Gus, who had miraculously survived a shot to the stomach, wasn’t really expecting the Peacekeepers to bring him President Snow, but he watched as the blonde followed two men into the room.

“Mr. President, I- I think some rebels broke into the party. They didn’t look Capitol, and I believe I saw one of them had a gun.”

Coriolanus immediately dismissed the Peacekeepers from the room, following them to the door and closing it.

He spun and looked at Gus, who was shaking a like a leaf. “You’re going to tell me everything you saw and heard up until they shot you. You’re going to help me find my wife, and I promise you, you will not have to worry about working again.”

Gus nodded, swallowing his nerves. “She- she was asking about what other drinks we had behind the bar. These two guys came up and I thought they were just guests, some past presidents had invited people from the Districts, I thought that’s what they were.”

Coriolanus felt his blood pressure rising by the second but urged Gus to continue.

“I didn’t know what they were going to do until Y/N stopped talking, and when I looked up I saw the run rammed into her side. I think- I think they went out the back exit.”

Coriolanus thanked Gus before darting out the door, leaving the Peacekeepers running after him.

-----

You looked around the dingy room, the only light coming from an oil lamp in the corner. “Where the hell am I?”

“Oh, she lives.”

You turned to try and get a look at the men who abducted you, though it was hard to make out any features in the dim light. “Where am I?”

“Don’t worry about that.”

Swallowing, you took a deep breath, crying out when you tried to stand. You looked down, seeing blood dripping from a large gash on your leg.

“Oh, yeah you sliced your leg when you fell.” The man nodded to the rather sharp-looking scythe to the side of you.

The door opened, and your head snapped up to see two more men walking into the room, one of them dropping their jaw when they said you. “The President’s wife?! You’ve just signed our death certificates!”

Feeling a dull ache in your head, you watched as the man who presumably kidnapped you from the party held his hands up, lazy smile on his face.

“Not a worry, once Snow sees we have his wife, he’ll pay anything to get her back. We’ll be able to start harvesting faster than ever.”

“You are from 11, what do you want with me?” You asked, ignoring the throbbing pain in your leg.

“Oh, smart little bitch you are.” The main ringleader smiled at you, a handful of teeth missing.

“You see, when your dear little husband signed his name on the last bill passed in the Capitol, he took away a third of our pay. For what? Some hospital?”

You remained silent. Coriolanus had signed onto a bill that would help women’s health, a step in the direction of the fertility research he wanted to fund.

“There’s little we can do with what we made before, Mrs. Snow.” The man sneered, making a face when he said your name. “Now? We’re already starving out there. We had to do something to make him notice.”

“But abducting his wife?!” The most reasonable out of the three asked, arm shooting out to point at you. “Couldn’t, I don’t know? Blow something up?”

The men started arguing with each other, taking their attention off of you.

You took their quarrel as a chance to limp towards the door, not getting far from the immense pain you felt radiate from your leg. It was more than just a cut, you were sure of it.

-----

Coriolanus looked out the window, sun peaking over the mountains. He still had no idea where you were, and with each passing hour he feared for your life more.

“Coryo!” Tigris ran over to her cousin, enveloping him in a hug. “I came as soon as I got off the train, what happened?”

“Rebels, they have Y/N.” Coriolanus rasped, and Tigris’ frown deepened as she saw how worked up her cousin was. His hair was a mess from tugging at it, bags under his bloodshot eyes, once-pristine shirt was now wrinkled. “I have Peacekeepers out in all the Districts, the Capitol is being combed through.”

“They’ll find her, Coryo. They will.” Tigris said, hugging her cousin again. “They’re checking each train car as they come into the station, they’ll find her.”

Coriolanus nodded, looking back out over the skyline of the Capitol, knowing you were out there somewhere.

-break-

You were on a train, you heard the squeaking of the brakes as it came to a stop. “Where are we going?” You asked, tending to your now sore wrist, a result of stumbling off balance when you tried once again to walk on your busted leg.

“They’re searching all the cars. They’re going to find us.”

The ringleader didn’t think this far ahead, not planning on shooting Gus at the bar when he snuck into the party. Not planning on alerting the Peacekeepers as soon as he did.

“Fuck, fuck, uh, we have to run.”

You heard the knocking on the door, before the train car’s rusty door was slid open by Peacekeepers, who immediately fired their guns at the three rebels.

“Alert President Snow, we found his wife.”

You started to cry, wanting nothing more than to see Coriolanus after the last few hours.

-break-

Coriolanus ran through the halls of the hospital, Tigris hot on his heels.

“Where is she?!” He yelled, eyes frantic.

“Last door on your left, Mr. President.” The commanding Peacekeeper saluted the young man, nodding at Tigris as she followed her cousin.

 You looked up from the long line of stitches on your leg when you heard quick footsteps growing nearer, before you saw an all-too-familiar head of blonde hair come into view.

“Coryo,” you sighed, struggling to sit up, face contorting in pain.

“My love, take it easy.” Coriolanus rushed over to your side, pulling you into his arms. “I’m here, it’s okay, you’re safe.”

You cried into your husband’s shoulder, dam finally breaking. “I- I was so s-scared, they had guns and- and I know that guns inherently aren’t that scary. But, Coryo, they- they were going to make you pay ransom!”

“I would’ve, I would’ve paid anything to get you back to me.” Coriolanus mumbled, forehead pressing against yours. “You’re the most important thing in my life.”

Tigris cleared her throat, and you looked behind Coriolanus to see the older Snow. “You’re back!”

“I’m back, but we’re going to catch up later. You need to rest, and you need to sleep.” She said, latter half of her statement aimed at her younger cousin.

You smiled at her, watching as she left the room and closed the door once more. “I’m sorry I ruined the party, Coryo.”

Coriolanus made a noise in the back of his throat. “You didn’t ruin it, gorgeous. Those rebels did, though I heard they were already taken care of.”

Nodding, you weren’t sure if you’d ever get the image of their dead bodies out of your head. “What are you going to do to their families?” You asked quietly, knowing vengeance was in store for them.

Shaking his head, Coriolanus sat on the edge of the bed, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. “Don’t worry your pretty little head over that, just focus on your health.”

-----

a/n: i love angst with a fluffy ending, it is my favorite. also i told you titles are my kryptonite i cannot do them right

[thesparkling-diamond27]

Meet me under the mistletoe

Fiyero Tigelaar x Reader

Summary: Five times your boyfriend is clueless and the one time he uses his brain to figure it out

A/n: I’m in the Christmas spirit so I figured I would write something with Fiyero and Christmas🎄🎁. I hope you like it!! I also added the Harry Potter theme for Christmas because that’s what my family is doing this year, so you get a little snippet of what my family and I do for Christmas :)

You hate winter.

You hate the change in weather.

You are more of a summer girl and love to bask in the warmth of the sun and feel the cool breeze through your hair. You hate the frigid, icy cold air that makes your hands hurt and causes your nose to run. You hate how the sun set several hours earlier in the day, making it seem like midnight by eight. You hate how dead the tress look and the absence of flowers.

But there is one thing that you do love about winter and it’s Christmas.

Coming from Emerald City, Christmas is a big holiday and especially for your family. Your family goes all out every year with the decorations, the food, desserts presents, etc. It’s no wonder that their love for the holiday passed on to you and when you arrived at Shiz that didn’t change.

Every year during Christmas time, your room gets turned into a winter wonderland, you bake a bunch of Christmas cookies, listen to cheesy Christmas music, and even set up a medium sized Christmas tree in the corner of your room.

Your family does different themes for Christmas each year and (this year you’re doing harry potter and you’re so excited) they ship off a box full of decorations for you to use for your room.

Your roommate went home for the weekend for their cousin’s birthday, so you asked your boyfriend Fiyero to help. It was Friday, and he was still in his 4:00 class, so you figured that you can lay out all the decorations on top of your bed, so that you two can start right away once he gets here.

You just placed the star of your tree carefully on a nearby chair, when you noticed a small brown box with an envelope taped on top. Must be from mom and dad you thought.

You carefully pulled the envelope off the box and opened it up to read it. It said,

Hello Dear,

I hope this box brings you good cheer before you come back home for Christmas. We left a little extra something in the box for you and Fiyero. We hope you like it!

Love,

Mom and dad.

For me and Fiyero? You thought. But what could they have gotten for me and Fiyero? You had a bunch of questions that could only be answered with opening the small brown box.

You picked up the brown box to reveal a leafy green plant with white berries attached to a neatly tied bow. The bow was attached to a string so you slipped your fingers through the loop to get a better look at the plant.

After close examination, you realized that your parents gifted you mistletoe for you and Fiyero. You blushed at your parents gesture.

Your parents never sent you something like this, since you and Fiyero started dating a few months ago, and this was your first Christmas with a boyfriend.You felt a little embarrassed that your parents initiated for you and Fiyero to kiss, but you found the gesture sweet nonetheless.

Your eyes lit up as you thought about hanging it up somewhere before he arrived. Maybe above the door. No you thought. You’ll never get him to stay there. You thought about putting it on the tree, but soon realized that that would be a terrible mistake. Then your eyes landed on a particular spot and you thought it might not be too bad. In the middle, but not too obvious that it would give away your intentions.

…

The door slowly opened and you looked up, after placing an ornament on the tree, to see Fiyero.

“Hey Princess.” He said before walked over to you to place a kiss on top of your head.

“Hi.” you said with a smile. “How was class?”

Fiyero rolled his eyes, “Boring as always.”

You laughed at his response.

“But I’m glad that’s over, so that now I can spend some time with you and help you decorate your room.” He looked at my bed, “Is this what your parents sent you?”

“Yup.”

“Oztastic! Where do I begin?” He said enthusiastically.

“You can help me with the tree, but first…”

You walked over to your bed and grabbed a Santa hat before walking back to place it on Fiyero’s head. Once it was secure Fiyero jokingly posed like a model.

“And how do I look?”

“Eh.”

Fiyero showed feigned shock.

“I am shocked, appalled, flabbergasted-“

“I’m just kidding.” I interrupted, “You look handsome.”

“That’s more like it.” He said with a smile.

Fiyero kissed me softly before he grabbed some ornaments to help me with the tree.

….

Fiyero and you made pretty good progress in a short amount of time. You two finished decorating the tree, added some lights around the room and scattered some decorative trinkets. You even had time to take a break for some hot chocolate.You took the last sip of your hot chocolate and rose from your bed.

“Alright it’s time for the last decoration.”

Fiyero groaned from his position on your bed, but you ignored him and grabbed the garland that was sitting on the nearby chair. It was red, green, yellow, and blue to represent the different Hogwarts houses.

“It’s just one more.” You said.

You wanted to hang this now, so that you two can be officially done with Christmas decorating. However, you also wanted to see his reaction when he saw what was hanging up above from where you wanted to hang the garland.

Fiyero caved after seeing your pleading eyes and he joined you near the balcony doors. You slid the ladder towards him and he stepped up, so he could begin to hang the garland.

Your eyes watch the back of his head as he inched closer and closer to the mistletoe. Any moment he’ll see that plant and look back at you with a smirk, before planting a kiss on your lips. He got close and closer until his eyes finally landed on the plant.

But instead of turning around with a look of mischief, he paused before continuing to hang the garland. That was not the response you were expecting nor hoping for. Didn’t he see the mistletoe?

Fiyero quickly finished his job and he jumped off the ladder with a proud smile.

“The garland is done and now I think I deserve to be awarded.” He said with a smile.

“With what?” I asked curiously.

Fiyero walked slowly towards me. Maybe he did see the mistletoe and he wanted a kiss as an award.

“With cuddles.”

And before you could say anything he grabbed your hand and dragged you to your bed. You have always loved being in Fiyero’s arms, and it was one of your favorite places in the world. But you couldn’t help, but feel disappointed that he didn’t kiss you after seeing the mistletoe.

—————————

“Alright class that is enough for today. We’ll pick up where we left off on Wednesday.”

We all thanked Dr. Dilamond before exiting out of the room and to the hallway. You and Fiyero walked hand in hand through the Christmas decorated hallways. A smile graced your face as your eyes looked upon the school’s festivity. It was nice to know that Shiz loved Christmas just as much as you.

Fiyero and you reached the courtyard and you noticed a hot chocolate station. You figured it would be just what you needed to fight the bitter cold.

You tugged at Fiyero’s hand and suggested for you two to walk to the hot chocolate stand. Fiyero smiled in agreement and the two of you waited in the short line.

As you waited, your eyes wandered to a couple off to the side. The boy motioned above them where a piece of mistletoe was hung. The girl giggled before she brought the boy into a simple and sweet kiss. You tried to hint to Fiyero about the mistletoe and you were still confused why he did nothing after he saw the mistletoe the other day.

“Hey Fiyero look at the couple over there.”

Fiyero looked over and smiled at the happy kissing couple.

“Cute.” He said before turning back to the line.

“Don’t you see what they’re standing under?” You said as you tried to keep his attention on the couple and specifically the mistletoe.

Fiyero squinted his eyes before recognition appeared on his face.

“Oh isn’t that the plant that’s hanging above the balcony doors in your room?”

“Yeah.” You said with hope.

“Thats cool.” He said. And that was it.

It was your turn to get hot chocolate, so you let Fiyero take care of it, as you stared longingly at the couple who just pulled away from each other. You wish Fiyero understood what you were implying, but he didn’t seem to be getting the hint.

—————————

Finals were coming up, so Fiyero, Boq, Glinda, Elphaba and you decided to form a study group. You all were currently in Galinda’s room and taking a break from your studies.

Galinda was decorating her room with Christmas decorations, Elphaba and Boq were discussing about what had recently happened in Munchkin land, and you were currently curled into Fiyero’s side on Galinda’s bed.

You giggled as Fiyero tickled your neck with kisses. He pulled away and looked down at you. His eyes were filled with pure love and adoration and he sent butterflies in your stomach.

“Have I ever told you how beautiful you are princess?”

“Only every day.”

“Well in case I didn’t tell you today-“

Then Galinda came near her bed.

“Excuse me.” She said and sent me a wink. You gave her a confused look, but then she hung a familiar plant above her bed. Above Fiyero and you. Mistletoe. Galinda walked away like nothing happened and continued decorating her room.

You looked at Fiyero expectantly. You waited for him to kiss you, but instead he said,

“Now where was I?”

You swallowed your disappointment and tried to put on the best smile you could muster.

“Telling me I’m beautiful.” I reminded him.

“Oh right.”

He told you you were beautiful, but you didn’t hear him. You wanted to tell him that he should have kissed you, but you said nothing. You didn’t want to make a big deal out of something so small.

—————————

You figured that you had one more shot at getting Fiyero to kiss you under the mistletoe. Fiyero wanted to spend time with you after he hung out with his friends, so you decided to sneak into his room, since you knew he never locked it (which you always scolded him for).

However, it was times like this where you were glad he didn’t lock his door. It made sneaking in easy. You were glad his roommate was out with Fiyero because you don’t know what excuse you would have come up with to try to explain to him why you were sneaking into their room.

You shut the door behind you and you made your way to his balcony doors. Then you placed the mistletoe above the double doors. He’ll instantly see it when he walks in and he’ll recognize that it’s in the same spot that it is in your room.

The door opened and it was only Fiyero. His roommate wasn’t with him.

“Where’s Charlie?” You asked.

“He went with John to the dining hall.”

You nodded in understanding. Fiyero began to walk up to you, but he paused when he noticed the mistletoe. You inwardly cheered triumphantly.

“Did you put that there?” He asked

“Maybe.”

“Hmm.”

He was now standing in front of you and he placed a piece of my hair behind your ear.

“Why did you put it there?” He said with a smile.

“I figured your room could use some festive cheer.” You said as an excuse. You didn’t want to spoil the moment and the way it looked like it was going, it looked like he as going to kiss you. Which is what you wanted.

However, instead he grabbed your hand and lead you to his bed.

“Thank you.” He said, “You always know how to bring happiness into my life princess.”

I smiled at his words, but I still wanted him to notice.

—————————

Fiyero was working on an assignment for Dr. Dilamond’s class, while he was waiting for Galinda, Elphaba, Boq, and you to arrive. However, his mind was only focused on you.

He couldn’t help, but think that something was off. You acted like your normal, sweet, brilliant self, but he couldn’t help but think that something was bothering you. It wasn’t easy to notice, but after a few months of dating, Fiyero was able to notice different quirks about you.

Like how your tongue peaks out in the corner of your mouth whenever you’re concentrating hard. Or how your eyebrows furrow when you’re concerned. Fiyero noticed that your smile hasn’t been reaching your eyes lately and this concerned him.

Fiyero wanted to make sure that you were okay, but at the same time he felt like it was his fault. He couldn’t explain why he felt this way, but he just did. Call it intuition.

“Fiyero!”

Fiyero looked up from his already forgotten assignment and he was met with Galinda and Elphaba shortly behind her.

“Fiyero! You’ll never guess what happened!” Galinda said in a giddy and excited voice as she sat in front of Fiyero (Elphaba sat next to her).

“What happened?” Fiyero said. A part of him couldn’t care less what she had to say, but he knew that ignoring her would be rude. He met her through you and although she wouldn’t be his first choice for a friend, she actually was a nice girl to be around.

“James purposefully dragged me under the mistletoe, so that he could kiss me! Isn’t that so cute! I was so—“

“Mistletoe?” Fiyero interrupted. Why did that name sound familiar? He thought.

“Yeah the plant.” Elphaba said.

Fiyero’s mind immediately went to the plant that was hanging in his and Y/n’s room. Is that the plant they’re taking about?

“What does it look like?” He asked.

“It’s a green plant that kind of dangles down and it has white berries as well.” Elphaba answered.

“Sometimes the berries are red” Galinda added, but Fiyero wasn’t listening since his brain was on overdrive. It seemed like mistletoe was used for kissing? Y/n hung that up in her room and in my room Fiyero thought. So does that mean— , but Fiyero wasn’t 100% sure.

“What is mistletoe used for?” Fiyero asked.

“Well two people stand under it and then they kiss. The custom originated from the Emerald City, but it then migrated to the Upper Uplands with the help of Persephone Thomas.” Galinda said.

Y/n was from the Emerald city, which would explain why she would carry on the custom in her room and not me Fiyero thought.

“And when someone hangs one up on purpose?” Fiyero asked.

“It’s because they want to be kissed!”

That was all Fiyero needed to hear before he started to grab his belongings and walk out of the library.

“Hey where are you going I thought we were going to study?” Galinda shouted, but Fiyero continued walking.

He had something to take care of first.

—————————

Fiyero didn’t come to your study session today, which was strange. According to Galinda he was the first one there, but then all of a sudden he left abruptly. Which was odd. Where would he be going?

You got a lot done during your study session. Elphaba helped you immensely with your literature essay and Boq had some wonderful insights for your history project. Galinda was also quite helpful with Dr. Dilamond’s assignment.

You had just finished your study session and decided to go to Fiyero’s room to make sure everything was alright with him. Yes he never really cared for his studies, but it’s not like him to just leave like that. Something must be wrong you thought.

You approached Fiyero’s room and knocked. Silence. You knocked again just to be sure. Silence. You put your hand on the door handle and slowly twist the knob. The door slightly cracked open. You roll your eyes at the fact that the door was unlocked. He really needs to start locking his door you thought.

You opened the door fully and checked for anyone inside and it looked like Fiyero and his roommate Charlie both weren’t there. You kind of wished Charlie was here because then he could have given you an idea about where Fiyero could be.

You were about to walk out and admit defeat when you noticed a folded piece of paper on Fiyero’s bed. Curious, you walked over and opened it up and read.

Come to your room princess. I have a surprise for you!

Surprise? What surprise you thought. You wasted no time and walked out of his room with the note in hand. You walked down a couple of hallways before you were in front of your door. With bated breath you opened the door and the sight made you gasp.

It was like you were in a winter wonderland, but with plants. A plant wonderland. All around the ceiling there were green plants hanging like branches and you took a step closer to get a better look at them. And that’s when you recognized the familiar white berries that made this plant stand out.

It was mistletoe.

There was mistletoe everywhere and it brought a smile to your face. Was this the surprise Fiyero was talking about? Speaking of Fiyero where was he?

Suddenly you felt two hands on your shoulders and you quickly turned around to see your boyfriend with a beaming smile on his face.

“Hello princess.” He said the teasing tone.

You turned your body so that you can completely face him.

“Did you do all this?”

He simply shrugged his shoulders as if he didn’t know what you were talking about. Your eyes then trailed down to something behind his back.

“What’s behind your back?” But he ignored you.

“Galinda told me something very interesting today.” Fiyero began.

He was avoiding your questions and he seemed to have something prepared, so you played along.

“Did she?”

“Yes. She brought up how people hang up mistletoe, so that they can kiss someone and usually it’s their significant other. It’s an emerald city custom, a custom that is not practiced in Winkie country.”

This piece of information surprised you. This whole time you thought he knew about what hanging mistletoe meant, but now that appears not to be the case. That would explain why he never kissed you all those times you dragged him under the mistletoe or hinted at the notion.

“Which is why I didn’t understand any of the hints my girlfriend sent my way. Every time she brought me under the mistletoe or showed me the plant, I thought nothing of it. But after Galinda’s words, a few words from other students and some thinking.”

“Oh you actually used that brain of yours.” You joked.

Fiyero laughed at your joke and nodded.

“Yes I used my brain princess and I realized that all this time my girlfriend wanted to be kissed. And as her boyfriend it is my job to make sure that her wish is fulfilled…so…”

Fiyero finally revealed what was behind his back the entire time. It was a branch of mistletoe, but instead of white berries like all of the other plants hanging around the room, the berries were a bright ruby red. He hung the mistletoe above both of you, so that the plant can be used for its purpose.

“Well…” Fiyero prompted.

You waisted no time in wrapping your arms around his neck and bringing his lips down to yours. Fiyero returned the kiss and when his hands wrapped around your waist you realized why you love him so much.

He never ran out of ideas to make you feel loved and you fall in love with him more and more each and every day. And ever since that fateful day, he never failed to meet you under the mistletoe.

[planetpedri]

hey queen! Could you do a angst of Pau cubarsi? Pau and reader having an argument before going to his family gathering. Pau’s sister noticed that reader is quite upset and talks with Pau about it. When they return home, they’ll talk about it and everything! 🫶🏼

Coming clean — Pau Cubarsí.

Pairing: Pau Cubarsí x Fem!Reader

Summary: An unresolved argument with Pau had ruined your whole night. Luckily for you, Irene is right there to help you get Pau to come clean.

Word count: 1.17k

Disclaimer/s: arguing , angst to resolved ending.

A/N: it’s 3:45 am and i can’t sleep so here is this! + hi Bea! how about you try to end a fucking post w out it ending in a kiss???🤦‍♀️

The car ride to Pau’s parent’s house was silent. No music, no talking, just pure and tense, silence. The lingering anger from the argument that had only happened ten minutes ago was still fresh.

Even when you arrived, at least a foot apart, you still hadn’t talked. You separated from each other instantly; Pau finding his cousins and you wandering around aimlessly.

Irene watched as you arrived, she could sense that something was off when instead of finding her or her parents, you milled around the food table.

She pushed off the counter she was leaning against and made her way towards you. When Irene called out your name, you plopped a grape into your mouth before turning to face her with a forced smile.

“Irene! Hi!” Your expression falters when you see the way she was looking at you—pity. “What?”

“Let’s go take a walk, yeah?”

Your eyes dart to Pau, who was busy conversing with his cousins. “Okay, yeah. Where to?”

Looking around, the girl points to the back door. “My mom’s flowers started to bloom, want to take a look?” Subtle. Very, very subtle, Irene.

Lips pulling into a thin line, you nod. Irene spins on her heels and marches her way towards the door. You pass Pau, but he doesn’t bother looking in your direction, though you knew he saw you by the tick of his jaw.

Trying not to scoff, you take a deep breath and follow Irene out the door. The spring air hits you comfortingly and the view of Mrs.Cubarsí’s flower garden brings a genuine smile to your face.

“It’s really improved since the last time I was here.” You comment, bending down to sniff one of the vibrant flowers.

Irene hums in agreement. “So, what happened with you and Pau?” When your head snaps in her direction, she chuckles. “Sorry, I just noticed you two were unusually distant and you looked upset.”

You let out a quiet, “oh!” Before you continue. “We argued. It’s a communication problem.” You wave your hand as if to dismiss the problem, but a butter taste lingers on your tongue.

“Okay… tell me about it? Pau is usually an open book, or at least, he used to be.”

You snort at the last part. “Used to be, yeah. Not anymore. For some reason, he’s been holding things back recently, and oh! Yesterday, I went to hold his hand and he—well, he pushed his hand back into his pocket.” You point at the house, though not directly to wherever Pau probably was. “Him avoiding affection? Not normal.”

Irene’s forehead creases in confusion. Pau had never, not once, refused to show you affection. In fact, he was always seeking it out. “Okay, yeah, weird. What did he say when you tried to talk to him?”

You couldn’t help but scoff, “he said that I was ‘reading too much into things’ and that I was, ‘being dramatic’. I’m staring to think—“ Your mouth clamps shut, you couldn’t say that.

Giving you a look, Irene urges you to continue. “Think..?”

“That he’s..” You run your hand over your mouth, “that maybe he’s falling out of love. It’s stupid, I know, but I can’t help but assume, y’know?”

Frowning, Irene nods in understanding. “He loves you, i’m sure of it. He’s just being difficult. Maybe you two should leave early, talk it out?” She pauses, “or I can give him a talking to.”

Your eyes widen, “no! No. Do not talk to him, i’ll figure it out. Just.. need to figure out what to say first.”

“Let’s go back to the party and you contemplate while we stuff our faces, perhaps?”

“That sounds like a brilliant idea.”

When the gathering was over and Pau was driving you back home, you play with the hem of your skirt. “Pau?” You speak quietly, not sparing him a glance.

Pau turns in your direction momentarily, offering you a short, “hm?”

“Can we talk.. please?”

No matter how upset, or annoyed Pau maybe be, he couldn’t resist the pleading tone in your voice. “I guess.” He answers, “what do you want to talk about?”

“Why you’re upset with me. I mean, before our argument. Clearly I did something to hurt you, or maybe you just..” Your voice fades into nothing, scared to speak.

“Just what?” He doesn’t comment on the parts before that, so you know you definitely did something wrong.

You pick at the lace harder, “I know it’s probably me reaching, but, I just thought that maybe you are like—“ You were tripping over words, too embarrassed to speak them out loud. Forcing yourself to come clean, you take a breath, “maybe you were falling out of love.”

The car lurches to a halt, right at a red light. Pau’s head whips in your direction, “what? No! Jesus, baby, no! Not that! I love you, I do.”

His words of reassurance made you feel a sense of relief, but still, your theories about upsetting him were only becoming easier to believe. “I love you too, but, my question still stands. What did I do to upset you, and how do I make it right?”

As Pau begins to drive again, he sighs. “The other day, when we were having dinner with the guys and their girlfriends, why did you lean away from me when I tried to kiss you?”

You did that?

Genuine surprise takes over your face. “Wait, what did I do? Shit, Pau, I didn’t even realize.”

His bottom lip tugs between his teeth as he turns into your driveway. “Are you sure? Because it felt intentional.” His words had bite to them, whether he meant to or not.

“Seriously, I would’ve never done that intentionally. Is that why you’ve been so withdrawn?” You frown, leaning your head back against the headrest and unbuckling while Pau parks.

He nods shamefully, “sorry, I just got upset. I was being a dick when I should have just talked to you about it. I’m sorry.” He couldn’t meet your eyes, to annoyed with himself to face you.

“Pau.” You sigh out, “look at me.”

He does just that, meeting your eyes with a pained look. “I’m sorry.”

“I know. You can’t do this again, though.” You give him a warning tone, “and you owe me, big time.”

Nodding, Pau grabs your hand, giving it a tight squeeze. “After my next game, we should go on a date. Anywhere you want to go, i’ll take you.”

Tapping your chin, you ponder the idea. “How about a movie night? I want alone time, and you will be watching every movie I chose, got it? Oh, and please bring snacks.”

A smile forms on Pau’s lips, causing one to grown on yours. “Anything you want. Make a list, i’ll stop by the store on the way here.”

Sitting up and gathering your things, you nod. “Will do! Goodnight, I love you.”

“Goodnight, I love you.” Pau leans over, meeting your lips in a soft kiss.

likes , comments , and reblog’s are all appreciated. lmk if you’d like to be tagged in future pau posts.

DTS , @halfwayhearted @ar4ujos @sakashq @joaoflms @hrts4havertz @spidybaby @unx100to !

[aphroditelovesu]

Valyrian Heritage | Yan!Mom Rhaenyra Targaryen, Yan!Dad Laenor Velaryon

— summary: Being the only legitimate child of Rhaenyra Targaryen and Laenor Velaryon is not an easy task and you have learned the truth the hard way.

❝warnings: is not compatible with canon, Reader is referred to as having classic Valyrian characteristics, mention of violence, insults to the Velaryon brothers, and yandere platonic relationships, messy writing.

❝ 🐉 lady l: I don't know if it was good and I apologize for that. This imagine focuses more on the drama and I would love to write a sequel if anyone wants! Good reading and drink plenty of water. Love you all.

❝word count: 1,877.

Princess Rhaenyra Targaryen's screams could be heard throughout most of the Red Keep.

The princess had gone into labor over two hours ago and everyone was looking forward to the birth of Rhaenyra and Laenor's first child. Even though some had different motives and some were more selfish than others, anxiety could still be felt.

After what seemed like days of excruciating pain, a loud sound of crying was heard inside Rhaenyra's room.

''Shh...'' Rhaenyra whispered to the crying baby in her arms, trying to calm them down. She had no experience with this, however, this was her first child.

But she loved them. Oh, and how she loved them. Rhaenyra never thought she could love someone as much as she loved her child the first moment she held them in her arms.

She knew she would do anything for them.

Laenor entered the room at the exact moment the baby finally stopped crying and was about to fall asleep. Rhaenyra looked at him sternly and her husband was silent.

He approached silently and Rhaenyra handed him the baby.

''They are beautiful.'' Laenor whispered, moved. They looked exactly like their parents, the very definition of a valyrian. A few silver strands, its father's nose, its mother's skin, and beautiful dark purple eyes when they opened their eyes for the first time.

''They are.'' Rhaenyra confirmed, sitting down again. She was very tired and wanted to rest for a while.

''What's their name?'' Laenor murmured, looking fondly at the baby in his arms. So perfect, his child was so perfect.

Rhaenyra thought for a few minutes and then smiled, ''(Y/N) Targaryen.''

Laenor faced his wife and smiled in agreement, ''(Y/N) Velaryon.''

Rhaenyra smiled at her husband. Yes, Velaryon and Targaryen. It didn't really matter as this child was the product of both sides and she knew she would care for and protect them no matter what.

It was with these thoughts and the comfort in knowing that her child was being well looked after by the drooling father who cooed lovingly at the baby, that Rhaenyra finally allowed herself to fall asleep.

Later that day, Rhaenys and Corlys went to visit (Y/N). Laena could not be present, unfortunately, but she had sent a letter congratulating her brother and cousin on the birth of their child. Rhaenys had this letter with her when she entered the room with her husband.

Rhaenyra was holding her baby protectively and Laenor was glued to her side, arms crossed and staring at Alicent suspiciously.

Alicent had also entertained the idea of meeting her grandchild and Rhaenyra didn't seem willing to let her stepmother get her hands on her child.

''Let me see my grandchild!'' Corlys said excitedly and approached the protective mother. Rhaenyra looked at him for a few seconds, sighed and handed the baby to her father-in-law.

''They look like you, Laenor.'' Rhaenys commented after picking up her grandchild. Laenor smiled proudly.

In fact, (Y/N) looked like him even though they were so young. Laenor was sure that when they grow up they will be just like him. A powerful feeling took over Laenor's body. And he smiled even more at that.

Pride. He was completely proud.

Alicent approached Rhaenys, ''Let me see them.'' She said softly but firmly. Rhaenys hesitated a little, but let Alicent take her grandchild.

Rhaenyra was alarmed and Laenor placed a hand on her shoulder, trying to reassure her.

It's okay, Alicent would never dare do something with so many witnesses. Rhaenyra's shoulders relaxed a little but there was a tension present.

Alicent rocked the baby in her arms lovingly, smiling at them. They were beautiful, she thought. A pang of envy rose within the Queen. She wanted (Y/N) to be hers.

She blinked in surprise. That was it? But it was and Alicent knew it. Part of her knew that Rhaenyra wouldn't be a good mother to (Y/N) and she wanted to prevent future disappointments for them.

"They need to sleep." Rhaenyra said suddenly, standing up with her husband's help. Alicent looked at her skeptically and reluctantly handed (Y/N) over to Rhaenyra.

Rhaenys watched Alicent carefully and Corlys looked suspicious. The Queen was forced to retreat.

For now.

"I need to go see Aegon." Alicent stated to no one in particular, "But I will visit (Y/N) again with Viserys later."

Rhaenyra's only response was a slight nod, but she wasn't really paying attention.

Under the watchful eyes of the three Velaryon's present, Alicent left the room with hesitation and disgust.

As you grew, everything changed and it wasn't just your growth.

But family intrigues.

You had been the only legitimate child of the marriage of Rhaenyra Targaryen and Laenor Velaryon.

Everyone knew that Jacaerys, Lucerys and Joffrey were bastards and sons of Harwin Strong. There was no denying it, not when you were Laenor's legitimate child, not when you looked exactly like him.

Not even Viserys had any arguments for that. And Alicent, Criston and Otto always made sure of reminding Rhaenyra about this.

Jacaerys' birth was a stab in the chest for Rhaenys and Corlys. And a triumph for Alicent.

You were only a year older than Jace, but you loved him deeply. It didn't matter that Jacaerys was different and this difference became even more visible after he grew up.

It didn't matter because you loved him. You loved Jace, you loved Luce, and you loved Joffrey. You loved all of your younger siblings and defended them fervently when their appearance was brought up. You constantly fought with Aegon and Aemond about it.

You got along well with Alicent and Viserys' children, your aunt and uncles. Mainly Helaena. You adored her, so sweet and so kind and she loved you fervently in return. It was very common for you to be together.

One day, you were in your room reading a book that Rhaenyra gave you and Aemond ran into your room. You dropped the book and got up in a hurry.

''What happened?'' Your voice was serious and Aemond blinked and pulled you into a hug, seeking comfort.

''They gave me a pig!''

You frowned, ''W-What?''

''Aegon, Jacaerys and Lucerys!'' Aemond held you tighter and every word that came out of his mouth was full of hatred. ''They said they were going to give me a dragon and they brought me a pig!''

Oh. You squeezed him back, trying to comfort your uncle.

''I'll talk to them.'' You stated and Aemond muttered a thank you under his breath, squeezing you as if his life depended on it.

When you scolded Aegon and your younger brothers, Aemond could be seen smiling creepily in the background.

You loved your entire family, your paternal and maternal grandparents, your parents, your uncles, your aunt, your brothers, all of them. And being a Velaryon and a Targaryen was amazing, but you felt trapped sometimes.

Trapped by your family.

You were often seen as the anchor of your family. What held them all together.

And you always agreed with that. Many of the fights that occurred you had to get involved in to separate both sides and as you grew up, you noticed it even more.

You realized that your family would never truly be reunited. And you found that out the hard way.

It was during the funeral of Laena Velaryon, your late aunt. You didn't spend much time with her but you felt sad. You stayed close to your grandparents and your father the whole time, trying to comfort them for the loss of their daughter and sister. They felt immensely grateful to have you there.

You have finally met your great-uncle, the infamous Daemon Targaryen. The Rogue Prince.

He was everything the stories said. You felt uncomfortable with his strange looks in your direction and clung even tighter to your father who noticed Daemon's looks.

Laenor looked at Daemon suspiciously and pulled you away. Neither you nor your father noticed Daemon's eyes darken.

You lay in your room, trying to fall asleep when you were called to Driftmark's main hall after an accident involving your uncles and brothers. It wasn't until you found out what happened to Aemond that you knew all was lost.

You gasped in horror when you saw Aemond's face. Mutilated and missing an eye.

You approached him, under the burning gazes of those present. Alicent was furious and Viserys did nothing.

Your heart skipped a beat when Alicent stole Viserys' dagger and stormed off to try and gouge out Lucerys's eye in revenge. Your mother got in front and she was cut off.

You watched in horror at the cut and the way the blood dripped onto the floor. Aemond hugged you tighter and said everything was fine for his mother. It had been a fair exchange, he had lost a eye but had gained a dragon.

You knew the eye story wouldn't end there and you had confirmation years later.

You were stroking your mother's hair while she was being stitched up by the maester. You agonized every time the needle penetrated her soft skin and did your best to try and ease her pain.

Rhaenyra appreciated your concern and kissed your cheek after scolding your brothers.

Laenor entered the room and you hugged him, ''My child... I'm glad everything is okay with you'' He whispered against your hair, squeezing you tightly.

''I'm fine, dad. Mom is the one who's hurt.'' You mumbled. Laenor hugged you for a few more minutes and let you go, he turned and looked at Rhaenyra.

''I'm sorry for what happened to you and our children.'' Laenor took a deep breath and took a chair next to her. You stayed silent watching your parents interact.

Rhaenyra shook her head, ''It's not your fault.''

''No, it's not but I can't help but feel guilty. I've been neglecting you and Jace and Luce and Joffrey. And I regret that.''

Rhaenyra reached out and touched his arm, ''It's not your fault.'' She repeated again, with more firmness in her voice.

''I hate that I'm not the husband you needed, the father our children need.'' He whispered, ''I hate the way the gods made me.''

Your heart sank and you went to your father's side, hugging him. He smiled weakly at your affection.

''I don't hate.'' You mumbled.

''Neither do I.'' Your mother stated, ''You are a good and honorable man. That's something rare.'' They smiled and you felt lighter on that tragic day.

''I'm going to change. I will become a better husband and father.'' Your father said and pulled you into his arms, you smiled and hugged him back. Rhaenyra got up from her chair and walked over to you. She wrapped her arms around you and hugged you too.

You stayed for a while hugging your parents, feeling grateful for the peace that dominated your heart for a few minutes.

Because you knew it wouldn't last. Not when the next day a tragedy involved your entire family.

Dragons roared and storms broke out in the tragic night.

[dilfl0v3rss]

Tattoo artist Connie and ony??? This is y/n first tattoo and they’re real nervous so con and ony gotta help them relax 🤭

might end up tattooing their name on that pus- nvm…

i love love love thisssss😩

first ink

cw: needles, smuttt

word count: 2.4k

never in your life did you plan on getting a tattoo. it was too scary and you absolutely hated needles. if your mom didn’t get it done when you were a baby, you doubt you would’ve even had your ears pierced. you were getting older though, and the sight of the pretty art of your friend’s bodies swayed your judgement. you became very infatuated with them, always running your fingers along them when they were with you.

“girl just go get one. tired of you caressing my stomach like i’m pregnant or sum” sasha sighed, rolling her eyes as you laughed. “sorryyyy. it’s just so pretty” your friend put her hand on top of yours, squeezing it as she looked deep into your eyes. “i love you so ima touch your hand as i say this. you need to stop being pussy and get some ink. you look like a child.” you rolled your eyes, yanking your hand from under hers as she laughed at you. that was your last straw. you told her that day that you will finally get a tattoo, making her jump for joy as she called up two of the best artists she knew.

as the two of you walked in the shop your eyes instantly met the light brown orbs of a tall man. “buenos tardes ladies. what can i do f’yo-…oh hey sash” the man came across the counter he was standing at, giving sasha a side hug before outreaching his hand towards you. “hola mami, my name’s connie. you must be y/n” he gave you a kind smile, his gold grills shining in the light before he gave you a light peck on your hand. “boy move she here for some ink, not a pregnancy scare” connie rolled his eyes, lifting his hands in surrender before walking deeper into the shop. thats when another man came out from the curtain in the back.

“wasgood sash” the man said as he walked towards his booth before sitting in the spacious chair. “this her?” he mumbled. sasha pushed you up towards them. you haven’t said a word since you got here. too in awe at the beauty of these too men. “don’t talk much do she?” connie chuckled as him and ony continued to look you over. sasha knew how you got when you met new people so she didn’t try to push you to speak. instead she wrapped her arm around you while she did the talking. “this my girl right here. she never got any shit done before other than the piercings in her ears and that was when she was a baby so i need y’all t’be real delicate with her ‘kay?”

ony and connie shared a look, eyes widening as they realized that sasha was telling the truth. there wasn’t a single thing on your body other than your small stud earrings in your ears. “yea we gotchu. come sit while i set up.” ony said, getting up from the chair to let you sit down. the sound of sasha’s phone ringing brought your attention to her. “what….girl call your mother….ughhh why i gotta do it?…whatever whatever bye” you gave her a confused look as she carried an annoyed look her her face. “i gotta get my cousin from summer school, her bad ass. i’ll be back right after i take her home ‘kay?” you gave her a wide eyed look, her cousin lived almost an hour and a half from where you were. your fear was clearly showing on your face. you couldn’t get a tattoo alone.

as if reading your mind sasha gave you a tight hug whispering in your ear. “girl i’ll be right backkkk. don’t be scared. jus breathe and focus on something else, you’ll be fine” with that she gave the two men behind you stern looks, pointing her acrylic finger at them as she spoke. “behave yourselves. it’s her first time” ony and connie both gave her quick nods before she went out the door. as ony set up his stuff you slowly sat down in the chair waiting for him. “so it’s your first time huh ma?” he said, noticing your nervousness as he looked up at your pretty face. “mhm”. your response made him chuckle as he got up from his seat next to you. “what you gettin and where you want it”

you showed him your desired tattoo, making his eyes widen as he looked at the photo. “you sure?” sasha told you that this was an easy spot so you listened to her, nodding your head quickly as a reply. ony gave you a small smile before turning towards connie, who was in one of the other chairs scrolling on his phone. “baby turn some music on. it’s quiet at hell in here”.

baby? you turned your head towards ony’s face, your quizzical look making him chuckle. “sasha ain’t tell you?” you shook your head. “of course she didn’t” before ony could speak again, the sound of psa by kay flock started to play. making ony and connie rap along to the lyrics as they continued on with what they were doing. “so what you getting mami? a butterfly?” connie asked, inked hand rubbing on his boyfriends durag covered head. “she getting a thigh tat, cute lil sun” connie nodded his head as he listened, looking at your legging covered thighs. “well y’know you gotta lose those right?” he said, pointing to the fabric. you had totally forgot, eyes widening as you internally sighed. today was not your day.

“i mean…we don’t mind, could close up the blinds and lock the doors so it can seem like we closed right now. since sasha won’t be back for awhile and ion want you just sitting here waiting f’her” you thought about his words. they seemed like nice, respectful guys. and if sasha trusts them then you knew they wouldn’t do you wrong. “okay” your soft voice made the both of their heads turn to you, making you shy away and put your gaze on your lap. “so she does speak” they both say.

~about an hour later~

“listen mama, if you don’t calm down i can’t get started. i can’t tattoo you while you shaking like this” ony said softly as he watched you twitch away from the needle for the fifth time. you had no problem taking your pants off and letting them put the stencil on you, but as soon as you heard the machine start you couldn’t get it together. “he’s right mami, y’gotta relax for us ‘kay. we not gon hurt you”

you were trying, you really were, but your body just wouldn’t relax. and you weren’t helping them either, ony was ready to pass out from the sight of your ass making your thong practically disappear. and connie was trying his hardest to make his hard on as least noticeable as possible at the sight of your teary eyes staring up at him. your pretty hands gripping his tightly as you tried your best to be calm.

“what we gotta do t’help you relax huh? you want a snack?” connie asked, smiling softly at you as you nodded your head eagerly. ony got up from his seat behind you, walking towards the back to grab you some fruit snacks. “sit up and eat em. ion want you choking or nun” he said as he passed you the packet and walked back behind the curtains. you sat up on your knees as you tried your best to open it, but your hands were too sweaty from how nervous you were. connie saw you struggling so he helped, looking down at your pretty eyes as he slowly opened it. you didn’t even notice, too focused on his pretty light brown eyes as he slowly took a fruit snack from the packet.

on instinct you opened your mouth, not knowing what came over you as you slowly sucked on his finger after he put the small miniature orange in your mouth. “you want sum else t’help you relax mami?” you couldn’t help but nod your head yes. these men were fine, and you were desperate to relax. “pa c’mere! she said she need our help to relax” ony made his was to his boyfriends side, smirking down at you as he realized what he meant. “oh we can help you with that real good”

before you knew it you were laid back in the chair, this time with your back on the end of it as connie eagerly ate your pussy on one side, and ony fed you his long dick in your mouth on the other. “that’s right ma, keep suckin it jus like that. don’t you feel better? no more shakin and cryin” ony’s words went straight to your core, making your arousal increase as you began to leak onto connie’s face. “taste so good mama, you like when he talks t’you like that huh? talks to me like that too at home. y’wanna come home wit us baby?” you instantly replied with a “mhm”. the vibrations of your voice sending ony over the edge as he shot his thick ropes down your throat.

“shittt you suck me so well mama. you gon let connie make you feel good, gon let him fuck you?” as he spoke connie began lining himself up with your entrance, rubbing his inked hands all over your stomach as he waited for you to reply. “y-yes” you said in a small voice, turning the both of them on more as connie slowly sunk into you. the stinging stretch of his dick making you whine as you tightly gripped ony’s arm. “we know mama, s’okay we here” ony coo’d at you, helping you relax as he gave connie the signal to speed up. before then he was pounding you into the chair, long light brown dick pulling loud moans and cries from you as ony stood behind him, whispering dirty words in his ear as he’d occasionally kiss up and down his boyfriends neck. his eyes never left yours as he did this, controlling the tempo of connie’s thrusts without having to lift a finger.

“there you go pretty boy. makin her feel so good” connie’s eyes were closed as he focused on the words of the man behind him. “i wanna cum in her” he whined as ony gave you a small smirk. he knew the sight of them was driving you crazy so to pleasure you further he slowly gripped connie’s neck, turning his head towards his to give him a sloppy kiss. your pussy clenched at the sight, making connie whimper into ony’s mouth as he picked up the pace of his thrusts. “m’finna cum, you want papi t’cum in you mami?” his deep voice rang in your ears, pushing your release closer as you moaned out at loud “yes”

with that connie spilled his seed deep into you, his thrusts halting to a stop as he made sure to keep you full of him. you watched ony whisper something in his here, making connie slowly pull out of you before ony took his place. “gonna make me feel good too now, that okay baby?” you quickly nodded your head yes, but he wanted more. ony teased you, rubbing his tip all over your wet clit to make you whine. “let daddy hear that pretty voice. want y’to talk me through it like i did connie” connie helped you up as ony spoke, kissing your neck as his boyfriend waited patiently in between your legs. “listen t’him mami. or he won’t give you what you want” your brain was clouded with pure lust right now as you finally replied to the man in front of you. “want you t-to fuck me”

“that’s a good girl”

~a couple hours later~

“alright all done pretty girl” ony chirped as he began to wipe the last bit of ink off your freshly done tattoo. “she’s still asleep” connie chuckled out as he sat in the chair with your pantsless body on his chest. as soon as they finished fucking you, you fell asleep so they woke you up to ask you if you still wanted the tattoo and you said yes, and who were they to deny a pretty thing like you especially after you were so good for them.

as you stirred awake you noticed you were still in the chair, a warm blanket draped over your body. you went to get up, but were stopped by a little stinging pain in your leg. “she’s up pa” connie said as he watched you from one of the couches in the waiting area, a bag of chips in his hand as he watched his show. “heyy pretty girl, we ain’t wanna wake you so we just put the blanket on t'keep you from getting cold. want some water?” you eagerly nodded your head yes as you reached for the water bottle in ony’s hand. before you got to grab it he pulled it back towards him. “lemme hear that pretty voice baby” a shy smile planted onto your face as you looked up at him. “can i have some?” a smile spread to ony’s face as well, his big inked hand transferring the bottle into your much smaller one. “good girl”

as you drank the water, connie made his way towards the two of you, a small smirk on his lips as he looked down at you next to ony. “you not gon look at your new ink?” he said. you had honestly forgot, but excitement bloomed in your stomach as you slowly moved the blanket from your thigh. there sat the beautiful sun you asked for, prettily wrapped up along with something else you didn’t see in the picture. there sat an infinity symbol in the middle of the sun with two letters in the spaces. an o and a c.

“you said you wanted t’come home wit us right? if you gon be ours you gotta rep us.” connie said before him and ony pulled up their shirts, the same infinity symbol showing on their sides with each others initials and yours in the spaces. your mouth dropped to the floor at the sight of the pretty tattoos, stomach doing flips in excitement as you realized what you had gotten yourself into.

“you ours now mama”

[russellsppttemplates]

Straight from the heart (Lando Norris)

It takes a bad race for Lando to notice how much he has neglected your relationship, and he can only hope he can fix it

Note: english is not my first language. I was fighting the other piece I was writing so I jumped to this one and I did something a little bit different (* cough cough * longer) and see how it goes! I'm not sure how good this is (or how much you will want to kill me), but I promise this has a happy ending!! 🥹🫶

Thank you so much to everyone who likes and reblogs, your feedback is appreciated 🤍 and I'm taking requests so if you have any ideas or concepts you want to share, feel free to do so as I'll try to get to them the best I can!

my masterlist

Tw: relationship struggles, curse words

Tag list: @myloverjk-blog @hiireadstuff @c-losur3

The result on the screen was not the one you hoped. Lando had a wonderful race, but a mixture of bad strategy calls, dark rain clouds appearing on the sky with only a couple of laps left to finish the race and the wrong tire compound made him lose a good number of places, cars overtaking him in the last seven laps.

"Is the race over?", you mother asked as she stepped inside the living room, carrying the curtains she had left out to dry and proceeding to hang them back in their place.

"Yes, just now", your father said as he adjusted the volume on the TV, "let me help you, darling", he offered, getting up and standing beside your mum in case she got out of balance.

"Are you going to call Lando?", your mother asked once her squinty eyes read the position he had finished in. Even though the prescription glasses were on the table, she insisted she didn't want any mishaps after she accidentally dropped her last pair while she was gardening and one of your younger cousins found a rusty frame a couple of months later when he was over.

"I'm not, I don't think - he's flying back tonight and the timezone is so different, I don't want to bother him", you blurted defensively, making up excuses as you went along with your answer, "he's doing the interviews, and I'm sure the debrief will be long and torturous - he will need his rest to fly back", you stated as you got up, "I have to check on the project I handed in on Friday, the professor said he would post the grades around this time and if we want to appel, we have to do it right away - I'll be in my bedroom".

The subject was an open wound that stung everytime you so much heard a mention of it, let one having to seem completely okay with it when it ripped through your heart.

The calendar on your wall is full of stickers, both with notes, urgent matters and things you couldn't forget. It's the last stretch, you tell yourself, one more week and then it's done and you'll have a well deserved break.

A knock on your door catches your attention as you reply with the allowance to let whoever is on the other side in, "is something wrong?", you asked. Lately, the negative side of your mind was the first one to speak.

"That's what I want to ask you - that conversation we just had downstairs was not your usual self", she sighed as she pointed to the living room, "I've noticed you haven't mentioned him much, but I don't want to intrude or offer my help because I know you don't like meddling", your mother looked for your eyes before you could fully focus on the wooden floor.

"Things have been rough between us lately", you sighed, "Lando is keeping me at a distance, and I don't know the reason why, mum", you shrugged, "I don't know if it's because I've known him all my life and the comparison is so profound, but it seems he only cares about racing and his friends, and I'm nowhere in the mix. We rarely call eachother, no texting - I know the triple headers are intense, but all I got from him were reactions to my stories and a little video from Max where he's in it and said something to me", you recalled, "I can't be the only one making an effort, can I? Either he realised where this is going and we catch it while we can, or I don't know where this is going, I don't know where we're going".

Your mother's heart broke as she saw you allow the tears you had held on to fall freely, your sleeves bunched up on your hands to wipe them, "and have you talked about this? A long, grown-up and serious conversation?", she mused.

"We have barely been with eachother, mum!", you whispered shakily as more tears got caught on your throat.

"Couples go through phases, darling - do you think me and your father was all smooth sailing?", she tried to get you to smile as she brushed your hair while she hugged you, "you need to talk to eachother, seriously and let it all out, nothing is off limits because that's how you'll get to where you need to".

You kept your head on your mother's chest, accepting her comforting hold despite being an adult. A mother's hold was truly the best.

You hoped she was right and this was something that would pass. A rough patch that you and Lando would work through a look back on with a sense of accomplishment.

This wasn't how you and Lando end, is it?

.

Max and Lando headed for the plane as soon as they left the race track, having made prior arrangements to had their luggage there waiting for them once they arrived. Max was the first to sit down and get himself comfortable on the seat, texting his girlfriend to let her know they were leaving.

"Y/N hasn't called or even texted me, nothing", Lando mumbled, "didn't she watch the race? Doesn't she know that I need her?".

Max weighed in the good and the bad that his next few words could do. He could either be honest and encourage his best friend to finally come to his senses, or keep covering the lie and perpetuate the suffering and miscommunications.

"This is not how I wanted to do this - truth be told, I never wanted to have to do it", Max rambled off.

Lando was quick to notice that there was more to it than just this instance, "you know something - she's my girlfriend, Max, if something is happening, I deserve to know", he said in an antsy tone.

"Are you really so blind to it? Have you not noticed it yet? Damn it, Lando, I've been on your side, trying to clean it up and now I'm questioning it", Max declared as Lando only grew more confused.

"What am I missing Max?", Lando snapped, even catching his own self off guard at the reaction he had.

"Mate, think about the last couple of months and whether or not you have been a good boyfriend, or even the boyfriend Y/N deserves", Max offered.

Lando wasn't expecting that answer or point of view.

The last couple of months roll through his memory as if he's watching a movie and when he tries to select the moments he spent with you, he finds himself struggling to gather any at all. He can't remember any of the times you spent together, and considering his memory isn't that bad, it could only mean those moments didn't even happen. Thinking about it, he can remember the last time he held you in his arms, just the two of you.

"Fuck!", Lando shouted, punching the arm rest.

"Glad you figured that one out almost all on your own", Max tsked, "do you really think you deserve any interaction from Y/N? Thought so", Max muttered. He didn't like the situation his friends found themselves in, and he certainly didn't feel any joy in the words he told Lando, but the truth wasn't always easy to hear.

"Seems Y/N doesn't think so either", Lando mumbled, "do you know anything? Has she told you anything?".

He wasn't sure he deserved to know, but he needed to.

"The last time I spoke to her she didn't say anything - you know how Y/N doesn't want to bother anyone with her things and getting information from her is harder than solving the world's problems -, but P and her talk here and there", Max reasoned, "she obviously won't tell me all the details but from what I can tell, Y/N has really taken a toll because of this, P is always quite upset whenever it comes up", Max offered. Quite upset wouldn't cover it, so much so that, unbeknownst to Lando, the last couple of time Max's girlfriend couldn't join them for their plans was an orchestrated excuse from her to avoid being in the same room as the McLaren driver.

"Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!", Lando groaned into his hands, "how could I not realise this was happening?".

"You want the honest, blunt truth?", Max asked and Lando nodded, "I know it's your job, but lately, it's all been about racing, and I think you've neglected Y/N ", Max offered.

McLaren had a one hundred and eighty degree turn lately. From struggling to get their cars in the points, the team had managed to turn things around to the point where P5 and P8 was considered a bad weekend for them.

With the new signings, Quadrant had grown exponentially and it had naturally drawn him to spend more time on it, and it seemed to have alienated everyone in his life that wasn't directly a part of those.

It wasn't intentional, but it didn't mean that it didn't hurt. And by the looks of it, the person Lando loved and cared about most was also the one he hurt the most.

They both sat in silence as the British drive thought about all of it. Things got so good that he didn't look back, he worked his hardest and gave every piece of himself to the cause and the new territory he was paving. Being on the podium was a common feature for him, and the race win was there, up for grabs and he wanted it. Yet, he had been dazzled by it and had let himself fly higher, his characteristic "both head and feet on the ground" posture no longer present and resulting in a degree of neglection for the things and people thay mattered to him.have always been important to me.

"How did I push away the most important person in my life and I'm just now realizing this?", Lando asked, not really expecting an answer, but rather to let out all the frustration that boiled inside him, anger soon following at his late realisation, "what's worse is that I've only come to realise this because you had to tell me - stupid, stupid, stupid".

"I don't know what you want me to tell you, mate, and frankly there isn't much I can, but look on the bright side: now you have a chance to fix it", Max tries to comfort Lando.

"What if it's too late? What if Y/N doesn't want to be with me anymore?", Lando voicesd his deepest fear. What if the anger had finally got to you and you wanted to call it quits?

"Wouldn't you be able to understand that? I don't think that is the case - I've never seen two people who love eachtoher more than you two, it's as disgusting as it it lovely most times. And even though she might feel angry or hurt, I believe she has it in her to forgive you", Max states.

"I hope you're right", Lando sighed as he tapped his phone, his finger hovering over your contact.

"I wouldn't do that", Max chirped, "you should rest before diving into anything about that topic, and today has had too many emotions as it is. Tomorrow is a new day for you to think about it", he advised.

With his head on the headrest, Lando went over everything that occupied his mind, allowing the heavy sinking feeling to settle in. To a degree, he deserved the discomfort he felt. Shame, guilt, frustration, remorse, embarrassment, overwhelm, sadness.

What if he had destroyed the thing that made him the happiest? If I managed to single out the person who loved him for him?

.

Lan 🧡

Hello. You were probably expecting a text or a call, but the last few days haven't been easy and I needed to ground myself a little. We really need to talk, Y/N. Do you think we can grab lunch today?

It irritated you how quick your heart was beating the minute you saw who sent you the text after you submitted all the projects that you had left. Battling an inner fight of whether or not you should answer it, you decided to so it. Rip the band-aid off, Y/N.

To Lan 🧡

Hello... We do urgently need to talk. I'm on my own today - where do you want to go?

Your tone was cold and unusual when you compared it to the older messages, filled with hearts and the pet names you had for eachother.

We can go to that café by the marina, the one with the paninis you really like.

Yes, we'll meet here at one pm.

Do you want me to pick you up?

No, I'll walk.

Your sunglasses are good enough to hide the nervous gloom on them as you walked to the marina. There is no script or guideline to go about this lunch other than honesty and finally admitting everything you were feeling. It could go either way and, truth be told, you believed it would go down the way it was supposed to.

Stepping on the wooden path to the small café's outside area, you looked for the boy whose arms were where you used to feel safe.

Lando chose a table that overlooked the water, the warm sun shinning and bringing out the blue of it. It would be a big conversation, and while the café wasn't crowded, he never knew how things could pan out so he went for the most demure spot.

When you take a proper look at him, it surprises you. His eyes are not shiny like they usually are - there's a dark hue surrounding them along with sadness.

"Hey", you utter out to grab his attention.

The moment he faces you, you feel naked despite the summery dress you have on. All vulnerabilities exposed for the person who knows you best and who can read you like the back of his hand.

"Hello, hi", Lando cleared his throat, "how have you been?".

Setting your bag on the chair, you shrugged, not ready to engage in casual chit chat.

"Do you already know what you are having?", he wondered.

"The italian panini and iced tea", you mumbled after looking at the menu he handed you, "have you ordered yet?", you mused before calling the waiter to do so.

The silence between you after the waiter left the table was painful and hard to digest. You avoided looking at his colourful eyes - once you did it, breaking down would be in an instant.

"We really need to talk, Y/N", Lando says.

"Do you want to go first? Or shall I?", you asked bitterly, accepting his silence.

The waiter comes back with your orders. The café doesn't have a big menu and it's mostly empty, so the service was quick, "I hope you enjoy it - Bon appétit!", he interrupted the tension filled moment.

"I recognise I need to apologize to you for all the things I did without realizing it an-", Lando was cut off by you.

"Let me stop you there before this derails", you stated, "I'm here to have a serious, grown up conversation, so I'm not going to sit here and listen to dusty and beaten up childish excuses".

If the ground could sink him into it, Lando would've accepted it gladly.

"It's a start that you have realised that something was wrong, but you can't excuse yourself like that, Lando. Not when this situation has taken proportions that you can't fanthom - you can't get away with being sorry for not noticing what you were causing", you argued.

Lando gave you a nod, "I'm still not sure about all the things that led us to this point and what it entails, and that's why I wanted you here. I don't want to be blind to it anymore - I want to get all of it so all the pieces make sense in my head. You probably won't believe it, Y/N, but I'm so lost in this. I feel like I've lived a parallel universe for the past couple of months", Lando added all in one go.

"When did your feet come back to the ground?", you mused, "when did you feel like maybe things weren't the way they should be?". The curiosity was killing you, and the answer could very well do the last stab.

"When I lost all of those places in the race", Lando gulped, "I expected you to call and to hear your comforting words, and they never came. Max was the one to bring my mind to the matter", he admitted and you could see he was the opposite of proud of his own actions, "How I've been the worst boyfriend in the world and how I deserved that you didn't call - hell, I'm not even sure if I deserve that you're here today and willing to listen to what I have to say".

It's difficult to maintain a tough appearance and pretend that his words don't affect you, but alas, you keep your armour on.

"That afternoon was a struggle for me, Lando. I wanted nothing more than to call you and hear your voice, silence your cornerns and negative thoughts, let you know that you're the best driver out there and that a bad race doesn't define you. That it wasn't your fault and that you shouldn't beat yourself up because of it, that I was still so proud of you and how you handled things and that nothing could keep me from shouting to the rooftops. But you didn't deserve it, my dignity has been punched by your actions day in day out for the past couple of months and I couldn't take it anymore".

"I need you to hear things from your side, I need to know your perspective so I can understand what I did wrong and if I'm able to fix it still", Lando asks desperately.

"We should start from the beggining then", you laced your hands on top of the table after taking a bite of your panini, "I think it was at the end of the last season - at the time it didn't seem like it, but looking at it now, it was the start. I even took some time off and travelled with you so we could enjoy your break, then I came back for university. It's never easy, I know, but up until then we never had any issues with it - even if it was a bloody run, we made time for eachother. Then, you barely texted, let alone call - but all relationships hit rough patches and I thought that it was ours. Then Christmas came around and we finally felt like us again, there were no work or uni commitments, and it was bliss. After that, life happened again and I couldn't find a way to spend time with you - there was always a Quadrant video to film or a meeting or some event. You, Max and Martin went to Bali, and despite the fact that I didn't have any exams and could easily do university stuff remotely - like I do everytime - you didn't even think to ask me if I wanted to go or if I had planned something for us in the first place. I just took it for granted that you would spend it with me, but when P showed me the photos I looked like a fool and an ungrateful friend and girlfriend because I stayed back, Lando. I never felt so humiliated. Max had his girlfriend and you didn't, you ignored me as if I didn't matter to you", you breathed out. Ruminating was one thing, talking about it out loud was another. The latter angered you less and hurt more.

"I'm sorry", Lando murmured and you were quick to shoot it down.

"I don't need you to apologize now, Lando. What I needed was for you to make a decision then, one that considered me and what I wanted", you sighed, wiping a stubborn tear that got out, "after that, I just watched you pull further and further away, and I tried to get closer, work things out, but you wouldn't let me in. You floated and floated and I stayed here, both feet glued to the ground as I watched you go higher and higher. You were never like this, letting things get to your head wasn't something you ever did, but it happened. You alienated me in such a way that for this triple header, I didn't hear your voice once unless it was from the TV or the McLaren social media. You only wanted to call when you needed comfort, and it hurts that it took Max to help you see things the way they are", you state as tears fell uncontrollably down your cheeks.

Apart from your earlier bite, both wooden serving boards look full and no one made a move to go further.

"You told me time and time again that you would always be there for me, but when I was the one needing a cuddle and reassuring words, I was all alone in my bedroom, crying because of you. When you said you'd be there for me, I guess you failed to account for the fact that you can't protect me from yourself.. Because what hurt me these past couple of months was you", you declared, sniffling and, finally, looking into Lando's swollen and tear-filled eyes.

The tears Lando has been holding back fell. He was angry with himself, at how he had done the one thing he promise not to do to you. He made you hurt, he was the reason you were in pain and he couldn't keep you from feeling it.

"I wish I could tell you there was a reason behind it and that it all has some justification, but there isn't and I can't lie to you. I was propelled from the results and the promise that this could be our year - my year - and everything else faded away. I know it's not any help, but I'm not proud of what I did, and definitely not proud of the way I made you hurt - I wish I could turn back time and do it differently", Lando confessed.

"I needed you, Lando", she bit back.

Lando couldn't find any words after that and once you began eating the now cold panini, he followed your movements, granting you the quietest meal you ever shared with him. Lando was playful, loud, cheery and giggly on any other day. As much as it nagged you that your words were the ones to dim that light, you had to put yourself first. Someone had to.

"Can we walk along the marina?", Lando asked once you finished eating, earning your nod to his surprise.

You both get up, Lando paying for your meal at the front before you left the establishment. You walked along, looking at the luxurious boats and yachts before you found a part of the wall that you was comfortable enough to sit on, remaining in silence as you watched a couple of people unlock their yachts and sailing away.

Lando wanted to say something, to prove to you that he was sorry and that he still loves you more than anything, but the fear of saying the wrong thing and hurting you even deeper was not something he wanted to risk.

"You're going to break up with me, aren't you?", Lando voiced the biggest worry on his mind since he left his apartment.

"I walked here, so I had time to think about all of this, and all I could think was that I was going to meet you there, be reminded of all the pain you made me feel, and then we wouldn't see a solution to this. And on my way here, it got harder because I passed by the shop where we always go for croissants, and then that park where I tripped and you carried me home because of my bruised knee even though I could walk just fine, the bench where that lady asked if Mila was our daughter when your brother visited. And when I arrived at the café and saw you, I knew there was no way I could do it", you half smiled.

"I struggled to see what was happening, and I didn't see what was clearly in front of me, and I know I can't undo all of the crap that I've made", Lando pointed out, "but I can say that I love you, Y/N. I love you even more than when I asked you to be my girlfriend, which I never thought was possible, but everyday I love you a little bit more. I know I won't be able to love anyone the way I love you and, honestly, I'm not sure who I am without you, because I've turned into a person I don't recognise anymore and I'm afraid that if I don't have you around, this is the real me, and I don't like it. You make me a better person - since day one! I'll love you forever, but I also understand that you don't need this pressure in your life and that you want us to be over. I deserve that", Lando mumbled.

As much as the idea of not being with you hurt him, he knew it didn't equate to the pain he caused you hence why he deserved it if you dumped him.

"You're making it so hard", your groaned rubbing your temples, "It would have been so much easier if you had told me that you didn't care about this, that you didn't care about me anymore".

"That's never going to happen, Y/N", Lando assured you.

"It would be so much easier if I told you to fuck yourself off, wouldn't it?", you chuckled and Lando got to see a small glimpse of the world's best smile, "but I can't do it - I do think, though, that we need to take some time, for both of us to work on our own things", you suggested.

"I get it, you can have all the time and space you need, Y/N", Lando nodded, "would it be too much to ask if I asked you for another shot?", he wondered as you quirked an eyebrow, "I know you just asked me for some time, and I'll give it to you, but I'm not going to let you entertain the thought that I don't care about you or that I don't love you any longer. I'm still the same person you met all those years ago and I want to remind you why you fell in love with me in the first place - if that's even the case", he blurted, "please".

"Slow steps, okay?", you mused with a small small.

"Is it still the case?", Lando picked up where he left off, "are you still in love with me?".

"If I wasn't in love with you and if I didn't love you, trust me, I wouldn't be here", you smiled, squeezing his hand in yours on top of the warm stone.

.

Over the last couple of days, you felt lighter. University was finally over for the semester and you could rest, and the whole situation with Lando was better. Even though it hurt to tell him all of those things and see his reaction, and even if Lando still had a lot to make up for, you had to admit you didn't expect to feel like this right away. The right path was being trailed and you couldn't feel more at peace with it.

So far, he kept his respectful distance, which didn't mean that you didn't know he was there. Two days after you met him in the marina, Lando sent you a bunch of flowers to your doorstep, your mother being the one to bring them up to your bedroom since she was arriving from work as the delivery man was about to knock on the door, smirking when she saw who it was from.

You were getting ready to go out for a picnic with Lando. The sunny day invited you to go out and Lando seemed to think the same, sending you a quick text with the location and plan ideas.

"Where are you off to?", your mother asked as she noticed you looking for your hat, "you look very nice, dear".

"Lando invited me for a picnic", you offered her a smile despite the butterfly feeling on your tummy.

"I'm glad you're working things out, Y/N - I know how much you care about him. And even if he hurt you, he's doing the work to get you back - a lot of men would just give up, but not Lando", your mother nudged. She always liked him despite her initial concerns when he moved up the racing ladder and the toll it would take on you. For a brief moment, she was upset that she had been right, but she never lost the hope that the young man dating her daughter would fight for them and for her. For you.

"I'm not sure how long I'll be out, but if I'm not home for dinner, don't worry too much", you added, waving at her before closing the door.

You drove yourself to the park, politely declining Lando's offer to pick you up. As you followed the directions, you spotted Lando under one of the trees, seemingly battling with the corner of the picnic blanket.

"Hey, need help with that?", you called as you approached him, noticing his flustered face at getting caught.

"Hey! It's fine, it's fine", he dusted off his shorts, "I didn't fold the corner properly, never mind iron this", he grumbled.

"We're going to sit on it, I don't think we needed it ironed", you smiled, setting your small backpack on the blanket and occupying the space that wasn't covered with glass containers and pape bags, noticing the logo of your favourite bakery and the sweets shop near Lando's apartment.

"So, I baked these - who knew my oven works, hm?", he joked as he pulled out some granola bars that smelled delicious, "Jon did give me the recipe, but I made them! He says they don't have any harmful raw ingredients in them so there's no danger if they're not cooked properly".

"You could've told me to bring something too", you sighed, "you had all this trouble and I'm just going to sit here and eat it", you reasoned.

"I think we've gathered that I deserve all this trouble, even though I didn't mind doing it - I think I finally get it when people say they find baking relaxing, even if I just threw some oats and syrup on a bowl with nuts and chocolate", Lando shrugged.

You smiled at his antics, "this looks lovely, Lan - thank you", before you grabbed a paper napkin to grab the food.

Lando's heart did a little backflip at the pet name - when he thought about it, he can't remember the last time you called him anything other than his name.

He wiped the thought away as he noticed you get one of the paper bags, "It was no trouble, but I did have to make sure the lady at the pastry shop knew I was the next in line because there was this lady, you should've seen her, she was, like, eighty? I don't know, maybe more than that, and she was very posh and very proper and she was trying to cut in line! Then she started saying something in French and I was like 'no can do, madam! I need to get these croissants for my girlfri- for Y/N because they're her favourites' - I bet she wanted to get them first but I did!", he dramatised the scene, earning your loud laugh. How much he missed that sound.

"Seems like it was a little troublesome, though", you teased. Inside your chest, your heart beat fast at his efforts.

"You're worth it", he smiled before taking a bite of the granola bar, "not to toot my own horn, but for someone who eats pre-prepared meals, this is amazing! Try these!", he offered, forming a shell with his hand before he brought it up to your mouth.

For anyone else, this would be just another set of cute behaviours, but for you, it carried a sense of intimacy you hadn't felt in a while. Taking a bite of it and chewing, you had to admit the balance of the nutty taste and the chocolate was on point, "it is good, Lan! You should make granola bars more often - might even make a side business out of it!", you smiled.

"Charles has some ice-cream, there's alcohol from the other guys too - me? Granola bars", he smiled, eating the rest of it and looking at you. He would never be stupid again. He would never take you for granted. Never ever.

The conversation flowed once you started eating, mainly pointing out the new swings in the park or the pretty blooms that were showing up, and even though you weren't acting like you would had it not happened, it was comfortable and Lando had definitely put some effort into this.

"Thank you for this, Lando", you smiled after you helped him clean up the supplies, making sure he wouldn't have any spills and trouble taking the rest home.

"It's alright, really", Lando mumbled as blood rushed to his cheeks, "it wasn't much, but I wanted to make sure you remembered I'm still in and that I love you more than anything", he smiled, closing the basket and getting up with it to walk back to the car, "which actually brings me to an invite I want to make you", he went back to mumbling again.

The invite was a risk, he knew it. After all, it was the reason that got your relationship here in the first place. Yet, he wanted you there and he thought it would be good. Adding to it, it would be the way that he could make sure he was able to see you as it would be a busy day.

"What is it?", you asked as you walked with him.

"The day after tomorrow, we're going karting - Max and P are coming over for a few days, they arrive tomorrow - and I was wondering if you wanted to join us", he invited, "I know it's not the best environment to be in given al-", he started rambling.

"I'd love to go, Lando", you assured, touching his arm confortingly, "I might need a ride though, if you don't mind doing the detour", you pointed out.

"It's fine, of course we'll pick you up!", he smiled, happy and excited at your answer.

"That's me", you nodded to your mother's car, unlocking it with the key, "thank you so much for this, Lan, I appreciate it a lot", you smiled, raising your stance so you could kiss his cheek, "will you text me the details when you know, please?".

"Yes! Absolutely!", he gave you a big smile again, "until then, Y/N!", he waved.

As Lando walked back to his car, there was an extra spring up on his step, a new found energy and a smile that insisted on not disappearing from his lips.

Little by little, he was slowly getting you back.

.

"Why are we going this way?", Max asked as Lando took the first exit on the roundabout, "isn't the track that way?".

Lando couldn't contain his smile, "we're going to pick Y/N up first".

Max and Pietra exchanged a look before rhe blonde woman spoke up, "you finally came to your senses?".

"P!", Max scolded.

"It's alright, Max - she's not wrong", Lando added, "but yes, I have, and I'm working on it, respecting her but making sure she knows how much I regret it, how sorry and how bad I feel that it happened and how I'm trying my hardest to make sure it does happen again", Lando turned around once he stopped at the red light, "Thank you for looking after her when I didn't, P. I know you have been a good friend to her, so thank you for that", he added.

"She didn't deserve what you did to her, but I'm happy you figured it out and that you're working on it - I don't say it too often, but if you two ever broke up, I would consider that true love isn't a thing, what you two have is something else entirely", she smiled.

"Excuse me?!", Max dramatised, "what did you just say?".

"Did I lie, Max? Who was it that came home in a nervous fit without any fingernails because they bit all of them off after Lando realised what happened? The same person who couldn't even sleep because of it? Who was it, hm?", she quesioned her boyfriend.

Lando chuckled at his friends, thinking that they really had been made for one another, "you two make me look like the sanest person inside this car", he shook his head, pressing the pedal and turning into your street.

There you were, the person he was sure was made for him too. Your outfit was simple, consisting of black jeans, black trainers, a shirt sleeve polo and a cardigan on your arm.

"Hi guys!", you greeted, getting inside the car and kissing Pietra's cheek before putting your seatbelt on.

"Why don't I get a kiss?", Max pouted.

"Because you stink, that's why", Lando chirped in, "all ready to go back there?", he mused, sending you a wink from the rear view mirror.

Blushing, you nodded before looking at Pietra again, accepting her hand in yours as she gave it a squeeze. For the whole drive to the track, you engaged light conversation, mainly listening to the plans they had for the clips they were filming before they raced eachother since you and P would happily drive around in the karts just to pass the time.

For the first segment, you stayed on the stands, watching the team get the equipment ready.

"How have you been, Y/N?", Pietra asked as she handed you a bottle of water she had gone to her and taking a sip of her own.

"I've been well - university is finally done with and I can actually have a thought that doesn't involve it", you giggled, "and Lando is home", you offered.

"Now, I wasn't going to be so blunt, but that is the subject I wanted to get at", she raised her eyebrows playfully.

"He's... Goodness, he's Lando again, my Lando", you sighed happily, "surely, it still stings a little and we need to work through our issues, but we're trailing our way through them. Learning our ways together - it's a bit like falling in love again and it's such a good feeling", you blushed at your admission, "it's doing us well and we're going with it, and not out of it", you smiled.

"Y/N", Pietra cooed, "you have no idea how make that makes me! It's so good to see you so happy and hopeful", she squeezed your arm, "I was ready to avenge you on him, by the way, Max did us both a favour in telling him, because I was sure what I wanted to do to Lando was considered a crime and I'm a good person", she raised her hands defensively.

Once the boys were done, Max waved at you to come down and meet them, giving them the time to get your equipment ready.

"Come here, I need to make sure you don't fly out of your kart this time", Max called his girlfriend after she was fully equipped to go on the single seater.

You finished the makeshift hairstyle before you looked for the helmet, finding it in Lando's hands, "come here, big head, I'll help you put it on", he smiled.

As you approached him, you could see his sudden nervousness at having you so close to him, hands setting the helmet on top of your head and then pulling in on, "Look who's talking", you mumbled quickly before it was all the way in, his fingers gingerly touching your neck as he did the strap buckle.

"All good for our speed daredevils?", Max joked, getting an instant slap from Pietra before he got up.

"Does it feel safe, Y/N?", Lando checked with you, making you wiggle a little to make sure you were strapped tightly enough, making you flash his two thumbs up.

"Ready, set, go!", Max yelled before you and Pietra went off, happily driving on the track despite not extracting the full potential out of the kart.

"You and Y/N seem well", Max offered as him and Lando took a break before they joined you back at the track.

"I don't think I'll ever stop feeling this guilt on my chest, it's like a weird weight that sits here and gets heavy every now and again", Lando explained, "but I think we're going in the right direction, and I'm going to spend every day of our lives making sure it never happens again. Y/N will never doubt my love or affection for her. I just want to make her happy now that she knows I know how much I screwed us up".

"I'm proud of you, man", Max tapped his back.

"You're what?", Lando asked, a little flustered at his bestfriends words.

"I'm proud of you, Lando - you're dealing with this in such a good way! I'm not saying I doubted you would, but seeing you actually do it and make it happen in such a grown up, loving and accountability filled way makes me proud of who you became. As much as I joke about it, what P said in the car was true - you and Y/N are it. Whenever I think about what endgame is, you two are the first thing that comes to mind", he admitted.

"Thanks, mate", Lando replied earnestly.

After a couple of laps from you, you saw the boys joining you in the track, making you assure that whenever they lapped you, you made a Mario Kart like noise, always managing to get a smile and a headshake from Lando and Max.

Once you were done, Max and Pietra volunteered to take all of the supplies back to the storage room.

"Did you enjoy your day, Y/N?", Lando asked as he approached you.

Surprising him, you nodded before you hugged him, "I haven't been this happy in a long time", you cuddled him, letting your head rest on his chest and letting yourself feel enveloped by his arms after the initial shock wore off.

"I'm glad", Lando uttered out before he composed himself, "I just want you to know that I could fulfill all your dreams and that there I'll never do anything to hurt you again. I'm well aware of all shit I've done and put you through, and how accountable I am for it. I just want to make you happy", he chuckled, "I don't want anything else in this world other than to make you happy, to show you how much I love you and that I want make this work, I want to make us work", he let out in such a serious and intense tone that you could feel a knot forming your throat, "you were my first love and I want you to be my last, Y/N".

"Lan...", you gasped softly, "I know it hasn't been good for you, but I just need a little bit more time to put it behind me, once for all", you added.

"I know, and that's alright", he mumbled against the top of your head, "I just wanted you to know that it is coming straight from my heart - everything I do, I do it for you", plucking up the courage to press a kiss there.

You closed your eyes and basked in the feeling, "two Bryan Adams references in the same sentence from the guy who used to DJ? You impress me, Lando Norris", you giggled and teased him playfully, feeling the rubble from his own laugh on his chest.

"I'll make sure to impress you everyday that we're alive, Y/N Y/L/N", he promised.

And he intended to keep it.

.

Lando invited you to his apartment for a cosy night in, thinking the plans over and over while he waited for you to arrive.

The delivery service was faster than he expected so he wrapped the takeout boxes in all of the kitchen towells he had so they would help retain the heat while you weren't there yet.

The whole apartment was tidy, he had your favourite blanket on the sofa and the TV had your favourite shows ready to stream in the background as you hopefully shared a comforting meal.

Your acceptance to come to his place made Lando feel very pleased with the way you were trailing in your relationship. He had been able to correct his mistakes and make you happy again. Even though there had been moments where he seemed to forget, he now knew that you had always been and will always be a priority in his life. He had never been in love with anyone else, and he was sure he would always be in love with you until his last breath.

A knock on his door pulled him out of his thoughts, heading up to the door to open it, "Hello hello! Come in", he gestured as you stepped inside, pecking his lips on the way - a few days prior, you had kissed him out of nowhere when you went to the bookshop and you swore he looked like a cartoon, all wide eyes and blushy cheeks.

Lando assured you you wouldn't leave the house and it would be just the two of you, so you hadn't bothered to put together a proper outfit, opting to wear a pair of leggings and an old Quadrant hoodie.

"I wasn't sure if I should bring anything, so I stopped by the sweets shop to get some of these hard candies, apparently they're very trendy now", you giggled sweetly as you set the bag on his hands so you could take your trainers off.

"You didn't have to, but thanks! We'll do a taste test after dinner - which is here by the way", he guided you to the living room.

Unravelling the mountain of kitchen towells, he had you sit down before he opened the containers, handing you a plate after you chose a bit of each of the dishes he ordered, "thank you, Lan", you smiled, sitting criss-cross on the sofa and waiting for him to do the same before you started eating.

"These are really good, have you tried them? They're new on their menu and when the guy explained it to me, I thought you'd like it", he pointed to one of the bite sized pieces.

"They are! They're not too heavy on the seasoning and they're really nice when you dip them in this sauce - try it!", you offered him the small cup.

"Is this going to be like the time you made me dip my spring rolls in that other sauce you claimed was the best thing in the world?", he asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Just try it, Lan!", you insisted, getting one from your plate, dipping it in the sauce and taking it up to Lando's mouth, your hand under the chopsticks in case some of it fell on his clothes.

Lando chewed it before nodding and humming in satisfaction, "is it good", he admitted with a smile after he wiped his lips.

Once you finished eating, you helped Lando bring everything back to the kitchen, saving the leftovers on his fridge, washing the plates and putting them away.

"You didn't have to help, I could've done it myself", Lando nudged before he laced your hand in his and pulled you back to the living room, "do you want to watch something?", he asked.

"There's this new Disney movie I haven't watched if you're up for it - or any of the shows we usually watch, I'm not picky", you answered quickly.

"Disney it is", he smiled sitting down and resting his arm on the back of the sofa, hoping you'd sit next to him and cuddle him.

You shuffled around before grabbing the fluffy blanket, pulling it over your legs and tentatively closing the distance between you, taking the plunge and taking a spot on his chest.

Once the movie was playing, Lando's arm dropped to wrap around you, lulling you closer to him and rubbing your arm.

"I can hear you thinking, and I'm sure you're not thinking about that little goat", you nodded to the screen.

"I'm watching the movie, I swear - and he's quite funny actually! He's also Mila's favourite character, at least he was last week", Lando chuckled, "but I was also thinking about us", he admitted.

"You were?", you turned to look up at him, wanting to know more.

"You do know I will apologize for what I did until the end of our lives, don't you?", Lando reflected out loud.

"Lando, stop it, it's forgiven and forgotten", you offered.

"Is it really?", he asked, a small smile breaking his way into his lips.

"It is, it's behind us now", you kissed his clothed chest.

"I will never forget it, though. It doesn't matter how many times you tell me to forget it or that you've forgiven me", he let out a shaky sigh, "I don't think I will, I hate myself for what did to you, the hurt that I caused you".

"Lando, let's not talk about it right now - not now, not ever. It's a part of our story, yes, and we learned from it, but I don't want to to remember every day. We are good now, and I don't want you to torture yourself with something that is out of your reach and that you can't change", you told him sternly, now sitting back against the sofa so you can face your boyfriend, "Promise me we won't mention this again, Lando".

"You're right", Lando agrees, "Okay, you're right, I promise, Y/N", he stated with a smile.

Your delicate lips peck his quickly before you go in for a second kiss, longer and more intense this time, and you both got lost in eachother.

You couldn't change what happened, but you could learn from it and work everyday to make sure it never happened again.

Lando was crazy about you, about who he was when was with you and how you made him feel, and you felt the same way about him.

"I love you, Lando", you smiled after you pulled away, resting your forehead in his.

"I love you forever, Y/N", he whispered, sealing his promise with a peck and bracing himself, "I'm never taking you for granted, and maybe this is a big gesture and I'm not sure how much this fits our new way - new patch? It's not a patch if we want it to last forever, right? - anyway, I would like to ask you to move in with me", Lando stated, "it doesn't have to be tomorrow or right away, we'll do it when you're ready! I just- I spend so much time of the year away as it is, and I don't want to cut the short time even shorter when it comes to you, so this way we'll be together for a bit longer - even if it's just at nightime and we can intertwine our legs or I can warm up the bed for you", he rambled on and you were sure he wouldn't stop anytime soon.

"Hey, hey! Lando, baby", you cupped his face with your hands, "look at me", you smiled as you straddled his lap, your thighs on each side of his and keeping you from fully sitting on him, "good now?".

"Well, since you're already there - sit, please", Lando added before he allowed himself to stress about your answer.

"I don't want to squash you", you mumbled.

Laying his hands in your thighs, he pulled you down, "I said sit down", he spoke sternly despite the playful glint on his eyes, "it's my home after all, I get to make the rules".

"Oh, I thought it was our home, but maybe I misread th-", your playfulness was cut short as your boyfriend flipped you around, your back hitting the soft sofa cushion with a yelp.

"You're moving in? For real?", he asked.

"Yes, baby, I'm moving in", you cupped his cheek, pulling him for a kiss, "I love you".

"My love, I'm going to spend everyday reminding you how beautiful, how strong", he started kissing your face with every word, "how kind, how amazing, how sexy, how hot, how smart, how kind, how incredible you are", he stopped just above your lips, "how all mine you are - I love you Y/N, forever", before he kissed your lips.

[liv2post]

Professors and Plants

Severus Snape x Herbology!Reader Wordcount: ~2.4k Summary: You're the new replacement for Professor Sprout and one day you require someone to plant-sit for you.

Read here or on ao3

Severus was struck the first time he saw you enter the Great Hall for breakfast at the start of the new term. You were Professor Sprout’s replacement as well as her cousin, but most people wouldn’t have thought the latter due to your appearance. Your dark robes resembled his and you donned a pair of boots with yellow thread sewn into the tops of the soles. What really stood out was your hair. It was snow white, transitioning into black at the bottom third of your hair length like a gradient. Your eyes met his and held his gaze for no more than a second as you took the last available seat that happened to be at the opposite end of the head table.

Despite your dark appearance, you were perfectly amicable and polite with the other teachers, even Lockhart, but you weren’t one to ever start conversations with any of them, preferring to keep more to yourself unless someone wished to converse with you. 

The first time he talked to you was that same day before classes would start tomorrow to get a proper read on you. 

“Hello, Professor Snape,” you greeted mildly, turning away from a Sopophorous Bean plant to face him as he barely clicked the door to the greenhouse behind him.

“How do you know my name?” His eyebrows furrowed and his soft baritone voice floated through the air.

“I know your first name, too. We went to school together, but you were older. I graduated just before you took over for Professor Slughorn.”

“I see…”

“Is there something you need from me?”

“Dittany leaves. Surely, Pomona left a plant or two in your care.”

“She most definitely did. Will a standard 16 oz jar’s worth do?”

“Yes.”

You smiled softly, retrieving a mason jar and a pair of snippers, and began trimming the fuzzy green leaves of one of the tall dittany plants that sat in the corner. “Did you and Pomona have any arrangements?” you called back to him.

“Arrangements?” Snape repeated, his eyes flicking over a decorative succulent whose pot was shaped like a mushroom before looking back at you. 

“Given our positions, I imagine you and I will be supplying each other with inventory and remedies or what have you. I was just wondering if you and Pomona had any arrangements that made each other's lives easier or more efficient work-wise. Do you like your ingredients bottled a certain way? Are there certain things you find yourself running out of more often than others?”

“We didn’t have any specific protocols established. Pomona was annoyingly protective of her plants,” he stated coolly. “But…now that you mention it, my store of wormwood tends to fluctuate. The younger years can be…unapologetically wasteful.”

“Noted. I will try to remain well-stocked on wormwood. And by the way,” you screwed on the jar lid, the glass filled to the brim with leaves—not so compactly that they were squashed inside, but certainly not leaving much wiggle room either, “I’m not as crazy a plant lady as my cousin is. Minerva tells me you're quite competent at your job and it sounds like I can trust you so…if you ever need to grab something feel free to come and go through the greenhouses as you please. I just ask that if I happen to not be present to leave a note citing what you took and the quantity. Y’know, for proper record keeping ‘n all. If I know what I have then I know what I can still provide you with.”

Snape nodded lightly. “Yes… That sounds practical enough.”

“Good,” you hummed, handing him the mason jar, your fingertips just barely brushing as he took it from you. “Glad we understand each other."

______________________________________________________________

Duties aside, you and Professor Snape got along rather well. He respected your need for notes and wrote what he took crystal clear, signing them off with “S.S”. You delivered ingredients he’d sent for in a timely manner, ensuring they weren’t overly compacted or bottled improperly. He returned the courtesy when it came to any potion meant to help your plants’ growth, sometimes brewing them fresh rather than giving you a bottle that had sat on the shelf for months at a time. Sometimes he’d add a sarcastic little comment on the notes about a student or a certain DADA teacher who you’d both found to be pretentious. 

From the notes blossomed more sociable interactions. Despite being separated by multiple floors, your classes were within the same vicinity of the castle’s layout, which meant, more often than not, you’d run into him when descending down to meals as he ascended up. You’d walk with each other, and talk a little bit, whether it be about incidents in the classroom or happenings informed to the both of you from the Prophet. The conversations would continue at meals where you’d start sitting next to one another. You didn’t get to know each other beyond a collegial level until around early November when the temperature started to get colder every day and the leaves were a vibrant wash of yellow, orange, and red. Your open-door policy on your greenhouses remained the same, but you had clarified that if he ever wanted to have tea or escape the chill of the dungeons, that open-door policy extended to your warm and cozy office. One day he knocked and when you opened the door he simply stated, “It’s cold,” before you promptly held the door back further, allowing him entry. 

You’d drink tea often, sometimes while the both of you graded, passively enjoying one another’s company as you did so, sometimes sitting on the couch or chairs and having direct conversations with one another. You compared each other's schooling experience with one another, gaping at the fact that he knew so many curses and had even invented a few spells. He confessed that it was actually Lockhart’s position he wanted, not to teach potions. 

“I didn’t take you for a Hufflepuff when I first saw you,” he admitted one afternoon.

“Was there anything else to take me as, Severus? My being here was not only to satisfy the Herbology teacher role, but also to fill the Head of Hufflepuff spot.”

“Of course, just outwardly…you didn’t seem the type. And the students have joked that your creatively witty chiding ought to have landed you in Slytherin.”

You exhaled quietly. “My whole family is mostly Hufflepuff with a few Gryffindors sprinkled in, but even so I understand my general dark attire and reticence made me a bit of a black sheep amongst my peers. I can’t really disagree with you much on that second point. All I can say in my defense is that my loyalty is sharper than my tongue. If you ever need a reminder that I am indeed a Hufflepuff, know that I am always wearing this.” You rolled up the left sleeve of your dark robe to reveal a beaded bracelet around your wrist, each bead yellow with black text stamped in on the sides, spelling out “HUFFLEPUFF.”

An unexpected, incredulous smirk tugged on Severus’s lips. “You really wear that all the time?”

“Only when I’m not bathing or sleeping. My sister made it for me after we got sorted. We, unfortunately, were not placed in the same house… Don’t look at me like that!” you chuckled at the mostly feigned repulsed expression regarding your sibling's sickly sweet behavior. “I happen to like this bracelet, thank you very much!”

“Who knew under your robes was something so garishly bright,” he sneered playfully.

“You’re not as slick as you think either, Severus. Don’t think I didn’t see that Slytherin scarf beneath your cloak at the last Quidditch match,” you eyed him knowingly. He parted his lips to refute but found he had no argument and grumbled while blushing against his tea cup.

______________________________________________________________

“Pardon me, Professor Lockhart, but could I speak to you for a moment?” 

The DADA teacher replied with an “Of course, dear” as he followed you to a spot off to the side from the entrance of the Great Hall after you had finished lunch one Friday afternoon. Severus eyed the both of you as he himself was slowly exiting the Great Hall as well. He slowed his pace down significantly as he floated through the corridor so he could pick up on what you two were saying. You had never willingly started a conversation with Lockhart before.

“...going to be gone this weekend. Leaving tonight, actually…

…take care of a few plants…? I left instructions in Greenhouse 4…”

“...ourse I can! Watering a few plants should be easier than defeating a vampire or two…”

You wanted Lockhart to plant-sit for you this weekend? That actually stung him a bit. Why wouldn’t you ask him to plant-sit for you? He was perfectly capable of doing so and he knew your greenhouses like the back of his hand. Did you not actually trust him like you claimed to?

He kept silent on the matter, his expression remaining impassive as he saw you off to the midnight train in Hogsmeade that same night. 

“See you Monday, Severus,” you bid softly, lightly patting his upper arm before stepping off the platform and disappearing into the night on the train until it was no more than a dot in the distance.

Severus didn’t trust Lockhart to do what was asked of him. Not one bit. Unless it was DADA-related or stroked his ego directly, the man couldn’t be bothered to accomplish what was asked of him. He imagined the fool would pass off the task to a student. Severus unlocked Greenhouse 4 the next morning and found the instructions you had left behind for Lockhart. They were simple and bullet-pointed, detailing exactly what to do and where he could find what. All that was asked of him was to spray a batch of Alihotsy plants with a germinating solution that sat on the third shelf in the supply cabinet, rotate them out of the sun at three o’clock each day, place them back at dawn, trim the matured leaves and store them in a jar. “Eventually to be delivered to our amazing potion master,” it noted, making him smile.

Severus kept a watchful eye on Lockhart that first day. Lockhart remained in his office until lunch, and after that made a trip down to Hogsmeade, no doubt to drink and find some entertaining company. At 2:45, Snape went up to Greenhouse 4 and confirmed that nothing had been moved from when he entered there this morning, the germinating solution still sitting in the exact same spot. He sprayed them all heartily and shifted the plants to a shelf away from the sun’s sight. A few leaves had matured so he gingerly snipped them from the stem and placed them in a standard mason jar. He also noticed several snails trying to sneak their way into some Potted Mandrake and disposed of them as well as repaired some worn netting protecting the Shrivelfig that was meant to keep out aphids.

He came by Sunday morning and treated the Alihotsy the same, making sure to place them in the sun at dawn so they had absorbed plenty of light by mid-afternoon. Once again, Lockhart hadn’t even bothered. 

______________________________________________________________

You returned Monday morning while everyone was at breakfast. Upon stepping into Greenhouse 4, you sighed in relief when it looked as though your plants had indeed been taken care of in your absence. You smiled pleasantly when you noticed some protective netting had been repaired, a task you planned on getting to when you had returned, but your smile broadened even more when you noticed a muddy boot print on the ground, one that did not at all belong to Professor Lockhart.

“Thank you for taking care of the Alihotsy this weekend,” you said to Lockhart who happened to be passing by the door that led down to the kitchen as you had come back from retrieving a snack that would substitute breakfast.

“Huh? Oh!” The man quickly recovered. The look of confusion lasted not even a second before plastering on a smile. “Yes, it was nothing! You can always count on me, Y/N!” he winked. You nodded once, drifting away from the man in favor of walking alongside the potion master who was breezing by in the same corridor.

“Hi,” you greeted. 

“Welcome back,” he replied, hiding his delight at your return. 

“Did anything interesting happen while I was gone?”

“Not particularly, though I was tempted to push Lockhart down a flight of stairs multiple times.” 

“Aren’t we all,” you laughed.

He walked with you all the way back to your office, select words hanging on the tip of his tongue until finally, he couldn’t hold them back anymore as you pushed on the handle of the door.

“Lockhart didn’t take care of your plants,” Severus blurted. 

“Oh?” Your hand slipped from the handle to face him with feigned curiosity.

“I didn’t trust him and…was proven correct when he ignored the task and instead spent his time in Hogsmeade, so I took care of them,” he explained carefully.

You smiled sweetly at him, lacing your fingers together in front of you. “I know, Severus.”

His breath caught in his throat. “You do?”

“Mhm. Truthfully it wouldn't have been the end of the world had those plants gone a couple of days without treatment, but I wanted to see what Lockhart would do and how he’d react to receiving false praise. I can’t say I’m surprised by the results, really. He’s as phony as ever.”

The potion master smirked. “Quite.”

You took a small step forward, stood on your tippy toes, and pressed a kiss to his forehead, making him flush pink when you pulled back and looked at him with twinkling eyes. “Thank you for taking care of my plants, Severus,” you murmured, affectionately squeezing his shoulders, before slipping inside of your office. Severus stood frozen in shock, his heart drumming in his chest before he managed to stop his brain from short-circuiting further. Without warning, he entered your office as well—you did have an open door policy after all—where he received another kiss. And another. And another…

He should plant-sit for you more often.

[boxbug]

A Canary’s Final Flight

My piece for @trafficzine 4th edition! Get it for free here! 200 pages of excellent art and fics, incredible work from all participants and from the mods especially!! huge shoutout to the mods for real

Process notes under the cut! (I struggled a lot so it's a bit of a novel)

So the entire process was a Ride. I knew when I picked this prompt that I was going to have a hard time, because Jimmy’s final death had been illustrated a billion times over by extremely talented artists. But I had a Vision of the snapshot of the second before the impact, when everything is still but you know what’s about happen. It was very much inspired by the clip of Fog by Jabberwocky, bu the thing is, they have the advantage of all the build up of the fall, and that’s when the trouble started.

This was my first version, and obviously it wasn't working. And I was trying so hard, with so many iterations! Small wings, big wings, no wings, different poses, less backgrounds elements. I'd done compositions were everything seemed peaceful but something is Wrong, but it wasn't working this time.

So instead I focused on what rendering I'd like to do - I tried a painterly approach, for that visceral feeling, but it wasn't working either (but hey, I did keep the red sky, so, progress)

At this point I'd been doing back and forths for weeks and I was just as lost as at the start. Now that's my tip for people who make art of any kind, in situations like that, stop thinking about how you can make the best piece possible, and think about you can have fun with it (because when you aren't it's visible). And for that was, 1 - going back to using ink and pen nibs and doing way too detailed inking, and 2- looking at Dave McKean's covers for Sandman (which, funnily enough, was also a reference for my previous trafficzine piece)

And from there I was actually going somewhere! Between the jagged rocks, the red sky, and the increased verticality with the borders, I had hit the vibes I wanted.

I did some experimentation with the border, and even though I really liked the bad boys I drew they were taking too much away from the lonely desolation, so I actually used Red (Unecessary Redstone)'s idea of all of Jimmy's worldy's possessions scattered on the ground post impact, with the idea to make it looks like the central image is his grave being dug.

(and yes for a short amount of time the were supposed to be clock markings on the sun, but there was already enough going with the wings so I scrapped that) (also fun fact the reason why the wings aren't fully material but more ghostly is because my toddler cousin was watching me draw the very first draft and asked why he didn't just use his wings and i went :( so the wings are a metaphor now)

So from there I found a bunch of picture and took some myself, cut and assembled everything together, added shadows in all the appropriate places, and repainted some elements so that everything would look better intergrated (some of the wheats are basically 100% handpainted, the cardboard as well). This took a suprisingly long amount of time, but I was done!

Well I wasn't expecting to have that much to say, but I hope if you're still reading, it was at least interesting!

[fantasyescapes17]

Spinsters do not Need Chaperones (Part 1)

Chaperones are for beautiful young girls. A plain older woman like you, with neither fortune nor youth to recommend her, is hardly in danger of losing her virtue. You've long resigned yourself to always being the supporting role in someone else’s romance. 

But could it be that love and marriage have not disappeared entirely beyond your reach? This spinster may capture the heart of an eligible bachelor yet, if only she makes the right choices…

Genre: Seventeen hiphop unit x female! reader (alternate plots and endings for each member) Regency!AU (Sort of Bridgerton-esque but we keep it PG).

Word Count: 6.3k+

Series Masterlist here

Part 2 coming soon!

The carriage rumbled down the cobblestone streets, past fancy tea parlours and luxurious shops that only the most elite of London society could afford to frequent. You barely had time to glance at the names of the shops before they whizzed past you. The carriage was going at break-neck speed. 

You seized the armrest and looked over at your travel companion and aunt, Lady Beaumont. 

“Perhaps, my dear aunt,” you said shakily as the carriage hit a particularly painful bump on the road, “we might ask the driver to slow down?”

Lady Beaumont turned to you sharply. Her crinkled eyes and face resembled that of a vulture’s- curved and without compassion. You almost flinched when she glowered at you. 

“Don't be silly! We are already running very, very late!” Lady Beaumont scolded. 

“Yes, but would it not increase our tardiness if we were to have an accident on the way?” you pointed out.

Your hand was squeezed tightly by the young woman seated beside you. Julia Beaumont was Lady Beaumont’s only daughter and an innocent and sweet young girl of nineteen. Her big eyes were wide and she looked worried. This was your cousin’s first time in London among elite society. Julia had been kept sheltered and protected by her mother all her life and, as a result, was both naive and full of wonder.

The carriage rolled up at the large Beaumont house in the middle of London. It had barely come to a full halt before Lady Beaumont leapt out at a speed surprising for her advanced age, and started barking orders at the servants. 

“Come take the trunks inside-quickly now!” she yelled at the porter. “Send the dresses up to the bed chambers urgently, we have barely an hour to prepare ourselves for dinner with the Chois- did you not hear me? I said send the dresses up first!”

You left the poor servants to handle Lady Beaumont’s wrath. Instead, you pushed past and went up the front stairs, smiling brightly at the head housekeeper who was waiting in the foyer. 

“Mrs. Milly!” you greeted the older woman happily. You had known the housekeeper for years, having lived in London and this very house during your formative years. She had always been kind to you. 

Mrs. Milly smiled at you brightly. “It is wonderful to see you again, Miss Beaumont. Have you been well?”

You sighed and glanced back to make sure your aunt was out of earshot. “Suffice it to say that I am happy to be back in London. But I have no time to tell you everything- we are about to be quite late to dinner with the Choi family and I fear my aunt will explode in flames if she discovers us chatting. I promise to speak to you properly tomorrow, Mrs. Milly.”

Mrs. Milly nodded and handed an envelope to you. “Of course, Miss Beaumont. I only wanted to give you a letter that arrived for you this morning.”

You took the letter with surprise. “A letter? But I had not informed anyone I was coming to London, except for…”

“Miss Kim. She delivered it personally and insisted that I give it to you as soon as you arrive, without a moment's delay,” Mrs. Milly replied.

You grinned. “Of course, who else would write to me but my dear Miss Kim? I shall read it immediately.”

“Don't let Lady Beaumont see you.”

You hurried up the winding staircase towards your usual bedchambers. The large London Beaumont house had been your grandfather’s while he was alive, and had been passed down in your extended family for generations. You spent many of your innocent childhood years playing in these vast halls, ignorant of strange adult concepts like inheritance and the entailment of ancestral estates which meant that the Beaumont house would never be fully yours. You were, and would always be, merely a guest here. 

But heavens, it felt like home. 

You hurried to dress for dinner. Your aunt would come upstairs any moment and scream at you if you did not seem ready. But as the handmaids helped tie up the laces of your gown, you couldn't resist the urge to rip open the envelope from Miss Kim and scan its contents. 

My dear Miss Beaumont,

I was so delighted to learn that you would be in London today, that I simply could not resist the urge to write to you with my most recent news- my dearest friend, I am engaged to be married! 

Mr. Park has asked for my hand and I have accepted him. We are to be married by September, here in London. I know that Lady Beaumont is unlikely to remain here beyond August, but I must beg you not to return to the countryside with her and instead stay with me in London to help me prepare for my wedding. I insist upon it most fervently- I shall not be married unless my dearest friend is in attendance! 

I know you must be confused. You would have expected my engagement to be with a certain Mr. J. In that regard I can only say that I have put Mr. J behind me and I will tell you the details of what has occured when we meet in person. 

Come to mine for breakfast tomorrow. Mingyu and Mama are eager to see you as well. 

Yours,

Miss Kim. 

You stared at the letter in shock. Miss Kim, despite being two years younger than you, was your closest friend in the world. You had both attended the same private seminary for girls in London during your teenage years and bonded strongly through a shared hatred for etiquette lessons and delight in tormenting your governesses. There was really nobody alive that you trusted and adored more than Miss Kim. 

You had never doubted that she would marry, and marry well. Miss Kim was blessed with the excellent genes that ran in the Kim family. She also had a charming personality and a bountiful dowry of thirty thousand pounds. She would have almost any man she set her heart upon. 

It had been your understanding that she had set her heart upon Mr. Jeon Wonwoo. Miss Kim had been waxing eloquent about her admiration for the handsome and mysterious gentleman that she was courting over the summer, so her sudden engagement to someone else- a Mr. Park whom you had never even heard of before- was very surprising to you and you couldn't understand it. 

You had to respond to her letter immediately. You had just turned over the paper and were searching for some ink when the door to your bedchambers opened and Lady Beaumont entered. 

“Are you ready for dinner yet?” your aunt demanded. You quickly stashed your friend’s letter between the folds of your dress and nodded. 

“Yes, of course, Aunt.”

“Come outside. I wish to speak to you alone.”

Lady Beaumont disappeared down the corridor and you sighed, forced to follow her downstairs where the carriage was waiting to take your family to dinner at the Choi manor. Your aunt turned to you suddenly with an anxious expression. 

“I expect you to be very thoughtful about your behaviour tonight,” Lady Beaumont said in a low voice. 

You blinked at her. 

“I’m afraid I don't understand,” you replied. Your aunt held no particular fondness for you, you knew that. She had been forced into the role of your guardian by the unexpected death of your parents. But you had still been brought up in a noble family, attended one of the most prestigious girls’ seminaries in London and been out in polite society for many years. Surely there was no reason to suspect you could not behave yourself at a  dinner?

Your aunt sighed. “Don't be intentionally obtuse. You are old enough to understand- you are practically a spinster now. You know perfectly well why it is so important that our dinner with the Choi family be a successful one.”

You did know, but you couldn't pass up the opportunity to force your Aunt to explain herself to you. Perhaps in saying it aloud she would recognise how manipulative she sounded. 

“Remind me, dear Aunt,” you said lightly. 

“The moment your uncle, Lord Beaumont- passes away, the Beaumont estate will be lost to us. It is entailed, you know, and there are no near male relations to inherit it according to the terms of the entailment. Oh! How unfair that the home which you and Julia have grown up in must be taken away from you due to some ancient rules about inheritance by male primogeniture!”

You simply blinked. You had heard your Aunt complain about this before. Hearing about the terms of the estate's entailment did not bring you any joy, but it was hardly news. The latest generation of the Beaumont family consisted only of daughters- you and your cousin Julia. Neither your late father nor your uncle had borne sons. 

“Yes, I know,” you replied. 

“Once your uncle passes, the estate shall be inherited by his distant relations- the Chois, and in particular their eldest son Mr. Choi Seungcheol. You, I and poor Julia shall be put out on the streets quite immediately! You understand that the only way to protect ourselves from the terrible consequences of this entail is for Mr. Choi to marry our dear Julia. At least then, the Beaumont estate will remain in our family.”

You pressed your fingers to your forehead. You had known what she planned even before Lady Beaumont explained it to you. It was her grand scheme for Julia to marry Mr. Choi Seungcheol so that the Beaumont estate was not lost to some distant relations. You could sympathise. It was not easy to accept that the estate your family had possessed for generations would so easily be handed to a complete stranger. 

“I am conscious of your intentions, dear aunt,” you told her patiently. “I cannot think what my behaviour has to do with it.”

“Julia is young and beautiful and has many charms to recommend her to Mr. Choi, but we must do our best to encourage the match. I shall contrive ways for them to spend more time together, but they must be chaperoned. I shall expect your support in this regard.”

You blinked at her. “You want me to chaperone Julia? I thought your presence would be sufficient, aunt, why does Julia require another chaperone?”

Lady Beaumont frowned. “I may be old but I am not ignorant to the ways of youth. Mr. Choi will hardly be able to court Julia properly if her mother is always hanging about. The presence of parents puts a damper on romance. No, it must be you who chaperones them and you must encourage him to pay attention to her. Julia is too young and foolish to handle Mr. Choi with delicacy- and there is simply too much at stake.”

You raised an eyebrow. You didn’t look forward to chaperoning your young cousin about her courtships, but it was a small sacrifice to make. At least Lady Beaumont was conscious that her own presence would not be conducive to the proposed  romance. You had to give your aunt some credit for her self-awareness. 

“Yes, aunt, if that is what you wish. I will be happy to chaperone Julia and encourage Mr. Choi to court her in whatever way I can,” you replied. 

“Yes. We can only hope that in contrast to you, Julia will look young and pretty and lively and manage to capture Mr. Choi’s attention,” your Aunt added bluntly. 

The underlying insult did not go unheard. You were clearly too old and dull and plain to pose a threat to Julia. You tried not to be offended. Being in your late twenties and possessing only a paltry dowry meant that spinsterhood was bearing heavily upon you. You would not be attractive to rich, well-bred bachelors like Mr. Choi. Lady Beaumont was correct to think that Julia was the better  bet. 

“I shall try my best to bring Julia’s charms into contrast,” you replied tiredly. 

“I also hear Mr. Choi has a younger brother named Vernon. He is not due to inherit anything at all, so we must ensure he does not set his sights upon Julia. That would be quite disastrous. You must keep him safely at a distance,” your Aunt pressed. 

You raised an eyebrow. “You have many expectations, dear aunt.”

Lady Beaumont bristled. “This is your obligation to our family. You failed to secure a rich husband while you were young and somewhat pretty, despite your uncle spending so much money to have you educated at a private seminary in London. Now you must at least do your best for your cousin.”

“I will always have Julia’s best interests at heart,” you promised. 

“Good. Let us hurry- Julia! Julia, are you ready to leave? The carriage is waiting for us outside, we haven't a moment to delay!”

—--------------------------------------------------

The letter from your friend Miss Kim was still tucked into the folds of your dress and you had a few moments of leisure to think about it as the Beaumont carriage rumbled down to the Choi manor. 

What could have possessed Miss Kim to abandon her courtship with the mysterious Mr. Jeon and become engaged to somebody entirely new? You were flooded with a mixture of curiosity and concern over what had changed your friend’s heart in a matter of weeks. You were also worried about this new character Mr. Park and his intentions- although Miss Kim had a very protective older brother to guide her in such matters. Mingyu would never have permitted her engagement to someone who was unworthy of her. If this Mr. Park had managed to obtain Mingyu's approval, he must certainly be a good man. 

“What do you think Mr. Choi is like?” Julia asked you anxiously, as the carriage approached the Choi residence. 

You looked down at your younger cousin and thought for a moment about her question. “Oh- erm… I am afraid I haven't had the pleasure of his acquaintance, Julia. I am told the Chois do not spend much time in London since they are mainly in the shipping trade in Portsmouth. But I have heard Mr. Choi described as an intelligent and capable gentleman.”

“Do you think he will like me?”

You smiled at her reassuringly. “Of course, Julia; you are quite the pretty picture. Only be a little careful with your manners and I am sure Mr. Choi will be blinded by your charms.”

Julia blushed, pleased, and turned to look out of the window with a little smile on her face. Your cousin was the perfect picture of youth and innocence- just the sort of thing men liked. It was difficult to imagine that Mr. Choi Seungcheol (whatever his personality and preferences) could not be persuaded to fall in love with her. 

The carriage rolled to a halt outside the Choi manor. 

Your family was greeted at the entrance of a sizeable mansion by the elderly Mrs. Choi. She was, as per your information, the widowed mother of Mr. Choi Seungcheol and Mr. Choi Vernon. She was a tall, statutely lady with greying hair and a naturally graceful manner that you couldn't help but admire.

“Lady Beaumont, what a pleasure to make your acquaintance at long last,” Mrs. Choi welcomed your aunt with great warmth. She then turned to smile at you and Julia. “And these must be your lovely daughters.”

“My daughter, Julia- and this is my niece,” your aunt replied quickly. “It is wonderful to meet you as well, Mrs. Choi. We were most gratified by your invitation to dinner.”

“My sons and I have been wanting to make your formal acquaintance for so long, but it was not possible since we are very rarely in London. My eldest son is quite busy in the shipping business in Portsmouth, as I have told you before. But now that we are here, I simply could not allow the opportunity to pass.”

Your aunt smiled brightly as your family was guided into the manor’s foyer. The Chois had a lovely manor, but it was not quite as splendid as the Beaumont house. 

“It is a pity indeed that Mr. Choi Seungcheol cannot find time with his shipping business to attend the social season in London,” your aunt said, with a sly undertone, “for surely it cannot be easy to find a wife of good breeding in Portsmouth!”

You tried not to cringe. Did your aunt have to be quite so obvious about her intentions and talk of marriage even before sitting down? But Lady Beaumont would feel no shame, and surprisingly, Mrs. Choi took the comment in good humour. 

“I agree- I have been encouraging Seungcheol to spend more time among the ton, and it is time he thought about marriage and settling down. But men will rarely allow themselves to be rushed into such things,” Mrs. Choi added as she led you all into the large dining parlour. Two gentlemen were seated at the table and they both rose quickly and quietly to greet your family. 

“Lady Beaumont, please allow me to introduce my sons- the elder, Seungcheol and the younger, Vernon.”

You had to drop into a polite curtsy and keep your eyes low as Lady Beaumont introduced you to the Choi brothers. When they invited you all to sit at the table, you were able to get a good look at the two brothers who sat across from you at the dining table. 

Mr. Choi Seungcheol was a tall, broad-shouldered man. He had dark hair, dark eyes, and was as classically handsome as one could possibly expect from a man in his thirties. Yet there was something mysterious about him. He had a strong aura- one that radiated a sense of charismatic authority. 

“Do you spend much time in London, Miss Julia?” Seungcheol asked conversationally once the initial introductions were completed, and everyone had taken their seats at the table. 

You glanced at Julia. Your cousin was staring at Seungcheol like a deer caught in the headlights and her mouth opened and closed wordlessly. You quickly picked up on her distress and jumped in to save the conversation. 

“My cousin Julia has not yet had the advantage of a full social season in London- she has only just made her debut,” you replied quickly. 

Seungcheol’s dark eyes turned to you. 

“I see. And yourself, Miss Beaumont?”

You blinked- Mr. Choi certainly had excellent manners to enquire after you and not focus on his potential bride. “I have spent plenty of time in London, Mr. Choi. I was educated at a private seminary here, and have attended many social seasons.”

Mr. Choi nodded. “And do you like London very much?”

“London has many things to recommend it, and I have been fortunate to make some good friends here. Is my understanding correct, Mr. Choi, have you not had the liberty to spend much time here?” you enquired politely.  

“I am afraid business keeps me mostly in Portsmouth during the social season,” Seungcheol replied simply. “My brother Vernon is in London often for his studies- although I doubt you would have found him at social events organised by the ton.”

You finally had an opportunity to turn and look at the younger Choi brother. Vernon was seated to your left, and although there was a slight resemblance, he looked quite different from Seungcheol. Vernon’s hair was a lighter brown and his eyes were much softer and kinder. He didn't have the same force of personality as his brother- indeed, you had almost forgotten that he was there. Vernon radiated a sense of calm and quiet self-assuredness that you found quite pleasing. 

“May I ask what you are studying, Mr. Vernon?” you enquired politely. 

Vernon nodded, his brown eyes meeting your gaze easily. “Of course, Miss Beaumont. I am currently pursuing the study of law at Oxford.”

“Oh! It must be very difficult,” you commented. “I imagine the study of a serious profession like that requires much hard work and intelligence.”

Vernon only gave you a humble smile in return.

“Oh-yes, Vernon is very intelligent,” his mother chimed in. Mrs. Choi seemed to enjoy talking about her sons. “We are indeed very proud of Vernon and hope that he will become a very successful barrister- but he has many years of study left for that.”

You nodded. “I wish you the very best for your studies, Mr. Choi.”

“Thank you,” he replied pleasantly. 

Lady Beaumont spoke up- she had enough of you dominating the conversation and was now determined to turn it towards her daughter Julia- poor Julia, who still looked terrified and had barely touched her dinner. 

“Julia has been studying music lately,” Lady Beaumont interrupted in a rather obvious attempt at a  segue. “She has become quite the accomplished pianist for her age.”

Mrs. Choi smiled. “Is that so? We have a small pianoforte in the drawing room. You must play a little for us after dinner, Miss Julia. My sons and I are all quite fond of some good music.”

Julia swallowed. 

“Say yes,” you mumbled to your cousin, reaching under the table to squeeze her hand. 

“Y-yes,” Julia squeaked out. “I-I shall be delighted to…”

The dinner went on pleasantly enough. Other than a few pointed remarks from your aunt about how Mr. Choi would surely not find a bride in Portsmouth (which, to Seungcheol’s credit, he handled quite graciously) and another incident in which Julia dropped her glass from nerves (Vernon was kind enough to immediately pick it up for her and gesture for a servant to tidy up the mess) the dinner passed among pleasant small talk about London, the shipping business in Portsmouth, and a little light gossip about the ton. 

The group retired to the drawing room after dinner and Julia was persuaded to sit down at the pianoforte to play some music for the Chois. You volunteered to stand next to your cousin on the pretext of turning the pages of her music, and leaned down to whisper to her. 

“Are you all right?” you whispered to Julia as she played. “You have been very quiet and anxious.”

Julia blinked up at you. Her fingers tripped momentarily and she hit the wrong key but she recovered quickly. “Oh cousin, isn't he quite scary? I find him rather intimidating!”

You blinked down at her. “Mr. Choi Seungcheol? He seems very well-spoken. I found him quite mature and reasonable.”

“But the way he glares…”

“He has a somewhat serious appearance,” you admitted. “But he is the head of his family and from what I have heard, has expanded his shipping business quite single-handedly. Men who carry a lot of responsibility are sometimes a little solemn in their manners, you know, but it is not so bad.”

“I hope you are right,” Julia muttered. “But I am quite scared to talk to him. You must not ever let me be alone with him.”

“You will always be chaperoned,” you promised her. 

“His brother Mr. Vernon seems very nice. He was kind enough to help me when I dropped the glass. Alas, he is a law student and I am sure mother would never approve.”

“She certainly wouldn't,” you muttered. “Mr. Choi Vernon is a second son and he will have to marry a woman that comes with either a handsome dowry or an inheritance- so I would not put any hopes there, dear Julia.”

Julia sighed. “Yes, all right. I did not find him particularly charming either, only that he seemed less scary than his brother.”

“You will be fine,” you promised her. “Only try not to worry and be true to yourself. Do you need me to continue turning pages?”

“No, you may sit down.”

You left your cousin to handle the piano and joined your aunt and Mrs. Choi in their conversation. Lady Beaumont looked quite elated, and you were almost afraid to take your seat and find out had excited your aunt quite so much. 

“Oh my dear niece; but, you must hear this! Mrs. Choi has been very gracious to invite you, me and Julia to spend the autumn at their estate in Portsmouth!” Lady Beaumont cried. Her eyes were bright with delight. “Is that not incredibly generous of her?”

Your stomach clenched. “Oh- yes, Mrs. Choi, that is very generous and kind.”

Mrs. Choi smiled. “Not at all! I shall be very glad of the company. Portsmouth is certainly nothing compared to London, but it is a lively enough place to spend the off-season,” Mrs. Choi replied graciously. 

Lady Beaumont beamed. “Indeed, and we shall be very happy to accept-”

“Aunt,” you interrupted her quickly. The letter from your close friend Miss Kim was still tucked inside the folds of your dress. “I am sure it will be a wonderful visit for you and Julia, but you may have to excuse me for I have other engagements in London.”

Your aunt turned to you sharply. “What nonsense! What engagements can you possibly have?”

“My dear friend Miss Kim is to be married-”

“And? What do you have to do with her marriage?” your Aunt demanded. 

“She is my dearest friend-”

Mrs. Choi interrupted the scolding that you were about to receive from Lady Beaumont with a kind and patient smile. “Forgive me, Miss Beaumont, I was not aware that you were closely acquainted with the Kim family.”

“Miss Kim and I attended school together,” you replied with a grateful smile to the older woman. “Her family was kind enough to host me at their London home during the social seasons and to sponsor my debut among the ton after my parents passed. I have attended the last few social seasons as Miss Kim’s companion and I am greatly indebted to her family for their kindness to me.”

There was a hint of sympathy in the look Mrs. Choi gave you. Perhaps she had just been reminded of the fact that you were an orphan. She also gave a surprised look to Lady Beaumont. 

“Indeed! I was not aware that Miss Beaumont had to rely on the Kims to debut in society and attend the social season in London,” Mrs. Choi replied. 

Lady Beaumont looked flustered at the implication that she had not done enough for you as a guardian. “Well yes, naturally- Julia was still a young child and I could not leave her behind to chaperone my niece, so we permitted her to debut while under the temporary guardianship of the Kims. Not that it helped her any, she still never managed to secure a husband.”

Mrs. Choi’s eyes widened. “Surely Miss Beaumont can still-”

“Nonsense, she is quite the spinster now and I see no further use in her staying in London,” Lady Beaumont replied while glaring at you. “London is hardly going to produce any new husbands for you at this point. You had better come with us to Portsmouth.”

You clenched your fists. “Aunt-”

Mrs. Choi interrupted softly. “I would not wish for you to break any engagements you may have with the Kims, Miss Beaumont. But if you are able to join us, you will be most warmly welcomed in Portsmouth.”

You felt a sudden wave of gratitude and respect for Mrs. Choi, and you nodded at her. “Thank you very much, madam.”

“The song Julia is playing is most delightful. Your daughter is a very accomplished pianist, Lady Beaumont!” Mrs. Choi said.

Your aunt smiled, a little placated. “Yes…”

—-----------------------------------------------------

You awoke early- earlier than your aunt or Julia- and dressed quickly for breakfast with Miss Kim to demand answers about your dear friend's sudden engagement. It would have alerted Lady Beaumont if you had called for the carriage, so you decided to walk instead. The weather was pleasant enough, and the Kims’ home was not too far away. 

You were just strolling past a shop window and admiring a pretty pair of shoes (that you certainly couldn't afford yourself, but perhaps you could persuade your Aunt that they would look nice on Julia), when you found yourself face-to-face with a tall gentleman. 

“Oh!” you cried, quickly taking a few steps back to avoid bumping into the man. 

“My apologies,” he said, looking down at you. The voice was familiar, as was the face that looked up at you. “Are you all-”

“Mr. Jeon!” you recognised him. 

He paused and his dark eyes scanned your face quickly. Mr. Jeon Wonwoo was quite unmistakable, even from a distance. He had piercing dark eyes and was always impeccably dressed in dark coats that hinted at the musculature underneath. It was difficult to decide whether Mr. Jeon was handsome or terrifying- perhaps it was  a mixture of both, really. 

“Miss Beaumont,” Mr. Jeon greeted you in his usual slow, deep voice. There was no smile on his face. “I am surprised to see you here. I was not aware that you were in London.”

You cleared your throat and nodded politely. “Ah- yes, I arrived only yesterday evening.”

“Are you staying with the Kims’, as always?”

You were surprised that he could mention the Kims so casually after what you had learned about Miss Kim’s engagement. You tried to gauge his expression- but Mr. Jeon Wonwoo’s expression was akin to a brick wall. 

“No, I am staying at the Beaumont manor, as I have come with my aunt and cousin,” you replied patiently. Could it be possible that Mr. Jeon had not even heard the news of the engagement himself? You decided to test the waters. “But I am on my way to the Kims’ for breakfast now. Perhaps you would care to join me?”

The corner of Wonwoo’s lip twitched- ah. He did know of the engagement, he was only putting on a careless front. You felt almost triumphant in managing to extract some emotion from this famously mysterious man. 

“I am afraid I am otherwise engaged this morning,” Mr. Jeon replied stiffly, “but thank you for the invitation.”

“Of course.”

“Good day, Miss Beaumont.” 

“Good day, Mr. Jeon.”

He walked away and you paused in the street for a moment to glance after his disappearing figure. You did not know Mr. Jeon very well- naturally, your acquaintance with him was only as the gentleman that was courting your friend. Yet you couldn't help but find Mr. Jeon almost amusing. The man regularly went to a great amount of care and effort to hide his emotions, and it seemed almost a shame. 

You continued on to the Kims’ manor. The butler greeted you at the entrance, clearly expecting your arrival. You were guided into the breakfast parlour, where you were promptly attacked by Miss Kim. 

“My friend!”

Miss Kim had engulfed you in a warm hug before you even had an opportunity to look around the room. You stumbled backwards and laughed, delighted to see her after many weeks apart. 

“Miss Kim,” you replied, returning her friendly embrace. “I am very delighted to see you but indeed, you must allow me to breathe.”

She released you and beamed. “I am so happy to see you! Did you get my letter?”

“I did indeed, I was quite shocked to hear-”

You were interrupted by the voice of Mr. Kim Mingyu, who was seated at the dining table a short distance away and flipping through the morning paper. He was dressed in a very fashionable blue coat and looked up at you with twinkling eyes and his usual boyish, charming smile. 

“Sister, surely you can allow Miss Beaumont to sit down and have a bit of breakfast before you begin haranguing her. Good morning, Miss Beaumont,” he added with a smile in your direction. 

You smiled back at him, as Miss Kim took your arm and led you to the breakfast table. 

“Good morning, Mingyu. I hope you are doing well?” you asked. 

“I expect I will be a great deal better now that you are here. My sister has been driving us all quite mad since some time now, and we shall be more than happy to hand her over to your generous care,” he replied cheekily. 

You laughed. “I shall be glad to take her from you, Mingyu.”

“And I insist that you do not leave again for such a long period, for she has become quite unbearable in your absence. My mother and I insist you share responsibility for the monster you have helped create.”

You laughed. You knew Mr. Kim Mingyu all too well- from his rather awkward and gangly teenage years until he became the present handsome and charming bachelor. You would not pretend that you had not had your fair share of attraction towards Mingyu in the past- but you had long matured out of those childish attractions and had instead  come to respect his good character and regard him as a valuable friend.

“I am here now, Mr. Kim, so you may return to your paper,” you told him with a smile. 

Mr. Kim nodded. “Much obliged.”

Miss Kim ushered you to sit down and generously piled your plate full of food from the breakfast table as she spoke in a rapid, eager tone. 

“You must meet Mr. Park at once, you will adore him. He is such a wonderful and handsome gentleman and he is so charming, he says the loveliest things and I am quite smitten with him. I know you do not believe in silly things such as love at first sight and perhaps it was not quite that, but I must tell you that I was very sure soon after meeting him that this was the man for me.”

“Slow down,” you told her with a laugh. “Who is this Mr. Park? What do we know of him?”

“He has a large estate in Derbyshire that he has only just inherited from his late uncle. He enjoys horse riding, and hunting, and is excellent at cards-” Miss Kim went on eagerly. 

You nodded. “Yes, but what do we-”

“Let me pour you some tea- oh no, the pot is empty. Marie! Marie! Can you bring us some more tea, please- oh, where has this maid got to…”

You watched in surprise as your overly excited friend rushed out of the room to procure more tea. She was certainly very enthusiastic- far more enthusiastic than she had ever been when she was courting Mr. Jeon. You turned to Mingyu and gave him a meaningful look. 

“Mingyu…”

He looked up from his paper. “Yes?”

“What do we really know of this man?” you asked pointedly. 

Mingyu smiled softly and folded the newspaper closed. “You are thoughtful to be concerned, Miss Beaumont, but there is no need. I have had Mr. Park thoroughly investigated. He is who he claims to be. I have watched them and as strange as it is, he really does seem to be quite the perfect match for my sister. He is able to match her high energy and passionate feelings in a way I have not seen any other gentleman achieve.”

You winced. “I suppose you mean Mr. Jeon.”

Mingyu sighed. “Yes, that courtship is quite at its natural end. Thank goodness they never got quite so far as for him to propose.”

“Is Mr. Jeon all right?”

“He certainly wouldn't tell me if he wasn't,” Mingyu replied with a sigh. “I cannot pretend to know whether or not the man is heartbroken, but I do believe that it was for the best. I am afraid Wonwoo was not a very good fit for my sister. Time will heal his wounds eventually.”

You nodded. There was some wisdom in Mingyu’s words. “Yes- and if you say Mr. Park really is such a perfect fit for Miss Kim-”

“He is.”

Miss Kim returned along with a maid carrying a pot of tea and sat down beside you with a huge smile. “Shall I invite Mr. Park for tea tomorrow? Will you meet him then?” she asked eagerly. 

You bit your lip. “I would love to, but… I am afraid my aunt wants me to go to Portsmouth for the autumn with her and Julia.”

Miss Kim’s face fell. “No! Surely you cannot, you must stay in London!”

“I am afraid Julia needs me, my aunt is trying to encourage a match between her and Mr. Choi Seungcheol. Julia will be in need of a chaperone-”

Your friend scoffed. “A chaperone? It is quite outrageous for Lady Beaumont to demand your time and attention now, when she never even bothered to come to London for you when you were in need of a chaperone. Miss Beaumont! You cannot mean to tell me that you will miss my engagement ball and wedding to go to Portsmouth of all places?”

You sighed and sipped your tea. “Believe me, friend, I have no great interest in going to Portsmouth. But there is an obligation to my family… I will try to persuade my aunt to let me stay in London for a while longer.”

Miss Kim pressed your hand desperately. “You must. And if you are in Portsmouth at the time of my wedding then I shall hire someone to kidnap you and bring you to London.”

You laughed. “I shall come quite willingly.”

You leaned back in your seat and listened patiently to Miss Kim gush about her first meeting with Mr. Park- how she had met him at the Michaels’ grand ball at the start of season and he had captivated her attention from their first dance. 

It appeared that you had a very difficult decision ahead of you. Should you follow your family to Portsmouth or stay in London? Either way, you would surely have a very interesting few months ahead of you. 

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